#and I search for the longest fics that too angsty

[balletfilmss]

DISTANCE MAKES THE HEART GROW ANGRIER

✸ pairing: jason grace x daughter of minerva! reader

✸ summary: you don’t know anything about jason anymore, except for the fact that you hate him for leaving

✸ warnings: kinda angsty…BUT I SWEAR THERE’S FLUFF AT THE END!! hurt / comfort type, & i think i swore like twice whoopsie

✸ notes: this might be my longest fic yet, hello? i mean, that’s not saying much but STILL

you didn’t know much about jason grace as of lately. it was true that there once was a time that even the smallest of scratches on his skin weren’t a mastery to you, a time when you knew him better than you knew yourself.

until six months ago, when he disappeared without a trace and left you all alone.

as a daughter of minerva, you’d never had many friend to begin with aside from the two praetors of new rome, for your skills and intellect set you apart from your fellow members of the legion and as leader of the first cohort, you were high up in the ranks anyways.

but now, six months later, you found yourself filling the post of second praetor not because you wanted to, but because you had to. the weight of the world had fallen upon your shoulders in only a fortnight

then, percy jackson had appeared.

you’d given him the position you held graciously, but it did nothing to repair the damage done that caused you to be emotional and physically strung out beyond relief.

you didn’t know much about jason grace anymore, except for the fact that you hated him, and unlike reyna, would not be welcoming him back with open arms when he arrived at camp jupiter as percy said he would.

and arrive he did, aboard a flying warship with three other demigods you’d never seen in your life.

while percy, reyna, and the rest of the legion welcomed them in with open arms, you were nowhere to be found.

jason’s eyes scanned the crowd over and over again and each time failed to find just the face he was looking for.

ever since his memories had been returned, the son of jupiter had been driving himself crazy with anticipation to see you again.

the curve of your soft lips and spark in your eyes; the flex of you muscles as you fought and the amused quirk of your brow when you inevitably won. he remembered it all and he missed it all so much that he thought it just might suffocate him. to him, every minute without you was another minute closer to asphyxiation.

fortunately, even after six months, you were still the same girl he had always known. the same one who would tie her shoe laces with two loops instead of one and always had to step out the door with her left foot first.

the same girl who knew him better than himself, and who he knew just as well.

so when he walked into your typical getaway spot, you couldn’t really say you were surprised.

hidden and tucked away in the corner of the new rome library you sat, a book you could’ve even say the name of propped open in front of you just in case someone came in and you needed to look occupied.

you hadn’t read a word since you’d gotten in there, for your brain was too busy reeling with thoughts about the boy who was now sliding his way through the front door to the library in search of you.

you heard footsteps enter the otherwise pen-drop silent room and darted your eyes to the page of your book, resting your face in your hand and letting hair fall over your face in hopes it might cover you up and by some miracle, conceal your identity.

but unfortunately for you, jason would know you anywhere.

he stopped in his tracks when his eyes fell on you, his darling girl hiding away in a corner, trying to disguise herself from the world. you weren’t in your official centurion getup like everyone else, but instead jeans and a purple camp jupiter t-shirt that exposed the four lines scored across your arm.

four years. four years that you had known jason, and four years that had been stolen from him just like that.

“yn?” he uttered, asking even though he knew for certain that it was you.

you didn’t answer, just flipped the page of the book you weren’t reading. it bruised his heart a little bit, but he expected nothing less ever since your absence at the welcome party.

he walked closer, testing the water in hopes that you’d at least spare him a glance up. when you didn’t even give him that much, he crossed the room fully until he was standing in front of the table you sat at.

“i braced myself when reyna told me you were mad, but i didn’t expect for you to ignore my existence entirely,” he told you after the silence became too much to bear.

with a huff, you snapped your book dramatically shut and looked up at him, avoiding eye contact and making yourself seem as uninterested as you could possibly scrounge up.

for the first time in months, you took in the beautiful sight that was jason grace. he looked almost the same, with his starry eyes and pretty smile. except he was dressed in a eye-stabbingly bright orange shirt that read camp half-blood on it and was seemingly a size too small, considering how it distractingly hugged his biceps a little too snugly.

he still looked like him, but if he was masquerading around as someone he wasn’t. a son of zeus and not jupiter. a quest leader and not a praetor. a teenage boy, not a soldier.

“library’s closed, and you don’t have authorization to override that rule anymore,” you told him bluntly. “or did you forget how to read, too?”

“okay, ouch,” he nodded, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans to stop himself from fidgeting. but that was the girl he knew: assertive and naturally bossy, for lack of a better word. a true leader, just like himself.

“i’m trying to read, leave,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes off of his.

“i know you’re not reading that,” he rolled his eyes, knowing that you didn’t see it became if you had, he would’ve been chided.

“yes, i am.” you insisted, reopening the book.

“sweetheart,” he sighed, pushing the cover shut again and pointing to the bleary title. “it’s in italian. which if i remember correctly, you don’t speak.”

your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but you were mad at him, gods damn it, and you were gonna act like it.

slamming the book down, you pushed yourself to your feet and began towards the door, not giving him the decency of another word.

poor jason didn’t know what was going on. he didn’t know why you were acting this way or why he didn’t get the overwhelming joy of you running to his arms like annabeth had percy’s. no, instead you ran off at the mention of him and refused to meet his eyes.

he’d lost six months with you, and briefly lost the memories of all four years of you, there was no way he was going to lose you now too.

the fear of losing you— all of you— for good had a grip on him so tight that it made him catch your wrist with his hand before you could leave, and the touch of your skin against his sent a refreshing shock through his senses. one chance was all he needed to make sure you didn’t slip through his fingers again.

“don’t go,” he said. “please. i— i don’t really know what’s wrong, but i know that i want to and that i want to fix it.”

for the first time again, your eyes met his. but where his were soft and concerned, yours were glassy and inflamed.

“you don’t know?” you glowered loudly, voice echoing in the silent and empty library, eyes holding angry tears. “jason, you left me! and for months, i tried to figure out what was wrong with me that made you do it, until everyone reminded me that it doesn’t matter what i think or how i feel, because there’s people to take care of and responsibilities to handle.”

jason stared at you, all the things he’d planned to say suddenly lost as he processed your broken words.

“and yeah, i know now that it was all juno, but by the time i was told, everything had already changed too much.”

“too much?” he questioned, looking down at you like a wounded puppy and yanking on your heartstrings.

it wasn’t his fault, none of it was. the involuntary leaving, the memories being wiped, the identity shattering feeling of being an amnesiac. it was all juno and her twisted plans and jason was just a victim of it, and you knew that.

but he had forgotten you once, so what would stop him from doing so again? or worse, what if he had gotten all these memories of you back and the fresher version of his mind had decided that you just weren’t worth it anymore? maybe you never were.

you were just protecting yourself, your heart.

at first when he left, you’d prayed every night he’d come back, wished on every shooting star and dandelion. but then you were forced to accept that no, he wasn’t coming back and somebody had to step up. you had to step up.

it hurt so hard to have your life flipped upside down and take on more than you could even imagine, you just couldn’t do it again.

who’s to say that the minute you let him back in, he wasn’t going to be ripped right away again?

“too much.” you restated. “before percy showed up, i was filling your position and holding my own. all while people either asked me what happened to you or looked at me like i was some poor, little wounded deer, and helping reyna keep everything from falling apart, and with fucking octavian breathing down my neck! and the whole time i couldn’t think of anything but you, and your stupid…you!”

you groaned and shoved your face in your hands to hide the tears that had already started falling, the frustration becoming too much.

slowly, jason put a hand on your shoulder and pulled you into his chest, to which you let yourself slowly collapse into his embrace, your hands the only barrier between your face and his chest.

he wrapped his arms around you carefully like he’d done many times before, rocking back and forth as a silent attempt to calm you. he felt a little guilty for enjoying the feeling of you in his arms again, given the circumstances.

“i’m sorry,” you whimpered into the cotton fabric of his ugly orange shirt. “it’s not your fault. and you don’t deserve to be yelled at or ignored. i’m so sorry.”

“it’s okay,” he murmured into your hair. “i’m sorry for letting you think there was ever anything that could make me want to leave you. and, i’m sorry for not remembering everything sooner.”

you must’ve looked pretty damn rough for him to be apologizing that his memories were stolen by a goddess.

“you really remember?” you whispered into his chest, scared that if you said it too loudly the answer might change.

“yeah,” he answered, picking his head up off yours and tapping the back of your head to draw you out of his chest.

you didn’t go far, looking up at him while still in his arms, tear-streaked face and all.

“there she is,” he mused. “there’s my pretty girl.”

the frown on your face deepened at that, purely because your face was surely red and covered in tears, and he decided to compliment it anyways.

“everything? you remember it all?” you sniffed.

“everything.” he confirmed. “like how this is where you go when you’re stressed,” he dipped his head down and kissed your cheek.

“and your favorite color’s light blue,” he kissed your other cheek. “and you prefer mystery books to romance,” your forehead. “and i even remember the time i tied your shoe for you and got kicked in the face in exchange.” your nose.

you were eye-to-eye now, drowning in oceanic blue surrounding his blown-up pupils.

a small giggle passed your lips at the last anecdote, pressing a nostalgic smile onto your lips. “i missed you,” you admitted.

“i missed you too,” he said. “can i have a kiss now?”

you smiled and pulled his face to yours, capturing his familiar and dearly missed lips with your own. after all the fussing and fighting you’d done, he could have as many kisses as he wanted.

[c0smoshit]

I wanna live ○°•

⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ≫ Solid Snake/fem!reader

⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕝𝕠𝕥 ≫ Someone pays you a visit after Shadow Moses...

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ≫ smut! vag penetration, fingering, finishing inside (yeah he is infertile) also slightly angsty and fluffy too!!

⋆ ࣪. 𝔸/ℕ ≫ of course my longest fic had to be one about mgs, anyways, I really enjoyed writing this😭

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥 ≫ 6.278

⋆ ࣪. part I / part II ࣪.⋆

Hour after hour

Day after day

Weeks till months.

Your brain could still make a solid image of his face, the cold breeze of Alaska and, of course, the thrill you felt there.

It all seemed like the perfect dream.

A normal girl like you, surviving the most action movie scenario that could've had happened.

But it did right?

And you surely weren't alone.

His deep voice some days waking you up from another familiar dream, the tender slip of the sun, grazing your skin as you looked down and saw his hand moving along it. You couldn't get your mind off him, not even the last words you had heard of him.

"Maybe it's time I live for someone else"

"Someone else?"

"Yeah"

"Someone like you"

Mind sloppy, your eyelids stayed closed just a few seconds ago, hand reaching out for you to see your watch.

18:00 pm

What did he even mean by that?

You could only wish he felt the same way as you did now, frustrated with whatever was going on after Shadow Moses. It really wasn't fair.

Reaching out you looked at the serene wind moving the leafs of the trees softly, quietly tickling them as you scratched your forearm. You saw a tiny squirrel submerge inside it's homemade hole and it made you felt warm despite the chilly weather of autumn.

Frecuently you thanked the demands your job had to offer.

At first, having to practically hide yourself from humanity wasn't a really attractive option, but without anyone to really care for anymore it was pretty much a welcome invitation to a better lifestyle.

Of course you missed the warmth of people, seeing kids laughing as they played on some parks. But it really wasn't a big deal after all you had been through now.

A sound you really couldn't distinguish, it either was a branch falling right on your door or some wild animal trying to break in. For you, living in the outskirts of a practically unpopulated neighbourhood surrounded by miles and miles of trees it was something pretty normal.

However you soon figured out the rustle of some boots so you guessed you had some unexpected visitor. So, quickly readying your gun and placing it hidden on your hip, you carefully opened the door.

"Yeah, I was right"

Wait

"Pretty hidden spot ain't it?"

Wha-

His lips moved, his hair was still as short and dark as the last time you saw him, hell he was even wearing some dark clothes. But his bandana wasn't laying on his forehead anymore.

Your hands held the doorknob tighter as you finally figured out what was happening and most importantly, who was standing tall and proud in front of you that exact moment.

How did he even-

"Snake"

You mumbled out, finally snapping out of it and opening the door wide open. You saw his eyes trailing down your figure, as if he was searching for some kind of change, but he saw none just as you did.

You both stayed silent before you akwardly beckoned him inside, feeling goosebumps already forming on your bare arms as the chilly afternoon breeze seeped into your skin.

Fumbling over your hall, he stepped into your living room, small but cozy, his eyes searched for two cups, two pairs of slippers anything that could be shared.

Yet he found none.

Your table was a bit messed up from your paperwork but the rest of the room was pretty tidied up, he found those little details cute about you.

"What are you searching for hmm?, I ain't got no one hiding here sir"

You said with a sarcastic voice as he turned around to look at you, his face painted with a smug grin at your comment and you finally got to take in his state.

He was freshly shaved, his hair looked even better than before and he was wearing normal clothes, not the skin tight suit you got used to see. It was such a pleasant sight.

He didn't look as tired as he did inside those cramped up cold walls, searching desesperately for the so aclamed "Metal Gear".

He was just passing by, that's all.

"Your home looks pretty nice"

His compliment should've warmed your heart up, but there was quite other big reason why it was beating so fast. You lured him to sit down on the couch, sitting beside him right after.

"How did you even know where I lived?"

You asked with a surprised tone, yes he was fucking Solid Snake, it still amazed you the way his tricks worked not only inside espionage engaged missions.

He grunted before responding.

"There's a ton of info the coronel hasn't given you"

"The coronel gave you my location?"

You asked even more taken aback, first, how did he get such an important information so easily and second why did he want to pay you a visit here?

"What, you aren't happy to see me?"

He joked, and you furrowed your eyebrows in response, of course you were, you almost felt as if your soul had travelled outside your body the moment you made eye contact with him once again.

"Of course I am, but-"

You cut yourself off before responding, his eyes searching yours as you fiddled with your hands that where now placed over your lap.

"Why have you come here? After all this time..."

He placed his hands between his legs, bending his back a bit foward as he looked at the wall in front of you. Taking a deep breath before opening his mouth.

"I've tried to leave it all behind, everything. Shadow Moses, Liquid, all the people I had to kill..."

"But I just, can't with you"

You stayed silent at his words, your hands gripping the couch as you stared at him, looking at his profile as he still wouldn't face you.

"Do you want a drink?"

You didn't know why, but your mouth automatically opened to say those words. Maybe to cut the dense tension that had already formed in the air or just for you to take in all what was happening now.

He nodded his head and you noticed how he quirked his brow but a second later you saw him with a more serene face so you guessed it was a good option for the both of you.

Making two warm teas your head spinned and spinned, travelled over all the memories and asked and asked.

. . .

"Figured out jazmine would be the best option"

You added as you sat back down on the sofa, resting your left side against it as you looked directly at him right now.

His face was facing you as he took the hot cup between his hands and his mouth opened, yet yours did too.

"Hey-"

"You're-"

You both where still as indecisive as always, however you couldn't help to feel nostalgic about the confidence you seemed to have back in Alaska.

I mean, It really was a life or death situation so you were able to even joke with him, flirt, whatever your mind came up to.

But now?

It was a whole different story, he was sitting on your couch, drinking your tea and talking to you. The simple thought that he was back with you, that he actually searched for you as you did for him made you stutter around him.

"Thought I'd never see you"

Surprisingly, you were the first one to talk, and by your words it really struck him. You both were really desesperate for this moment.

"Don't forget my words"

"I do want to live up to someone"

You locked eyes with him, all the past and present tension starting to break up. All the emotions that time hadn't let both of you express were coming off strong right now.

And he was being serious.

When you both had survived, limping on each other, reaching your way out from the coldness of the snow and dry weather, you did take his words into your naive hands, backing them all up inside your heart.

And by the simple flow of your blood, they were starting to spill into your guts.

After all the days you've spent wondering about him, trying to finally put your feelings aside and start a new page, he was back here with you.

"Sna- David."

You corrected yourself yet his name felt a bit bitter on your tongue, you were already used to call him by his code name.

"I just- It's been months and just seeing you here is very overwhelming"

Your hands moved, eyes darting across the room as you talked about everything you had kept to yourself.

His icy eyes pierced through your face, however, they were still as soft as ever. As tender as his hands held your hand as he guided you around, contrary from his strong and rough demeanour.

They were calloused, your brain reminded you as he took your right hand between his own.

"I tried everything to forget, because I know this isn't fair for either you and me"

Your head tilted, fair?

What was even fair about the world you two had to live in, all the fighting and all the stress you had to carry over your shoulders just to make happy a few world leaders.

You remembered his words, how he wanted to live, how dead and life meant the same difficult story to him, yet he prefered to live rather than die without trying.

His mindset was a strong yet a naive one, he didn't know why he was still taking orders, why he killed his father or why he didn't seem to forget someone like you.

"I don't want to take the risk to go on other wars and die on you"

Your mouth dried up, he was totally right. Nevertheless, he could say the same about you, you both were involved in all of this and it wasn't easy.

His head then turned around so you couldn't see his dreadful expression then your hand met his shoulder, getting him to look at your face again.

And when he saw your smile, the warmth coming off not only from your hand but from your eyes, your words, your voice. It was starting to him dizzy.

"You aren't "dying on me", if so, I will be there to slap you back to life if necessary"

He chuckled, you both did, a little joke helped mend the thick air around your bodies.

Your hand then travelled to his arm, sitting closer to him as you desesperately seeked all the sensations you once felt.

"I do want to live up for someone too, I've been alone for quite a while now"

"And if it's gotta be with the same man who taught me all about Alaska's fauna, I'm so down for it"

You finished off as you stared at him and for the first time you saw a glint on his eyes, so precious and pearl-like. Not even killing all fox-hound off made his breath hitch as your words did.

Maybe he was finally feeling it, maybe this was the quickest route to happiness he longed for.

"I'm sorry if I-"

His eyes quickly snapped to your red face, finally taking in how close you two actually where as your body moving further from him on the couch gave him a cold shiver.

Desesperate for your heat.

So, as many times as before, he let himself flow with the ambient, him being the one to approach you, watching as your face came closer to his own.

And finally it happened, the moment you two were so needy for, not letting your minds even cross that scenario just for the sake of professionalism.

Lips melting into each other, you two weren't even touching each other as he parted from the softest kiss you had felt in your life. And it was coming from a man that has been through almost everything dealing with violence.

Silence comfortably seeped through your room, his mouth hungry for more as he had discovered this new feeling of love, lust.

19:40 pm

The sun had already started to set through your window, bathing yout face in a way that seemed too surreal for him. He had always found you attractive, cute, but seeing you this way made his heart ache even more.

He then really took in your clothes, wearing nothing but a loose shirt and some shorts paired with same coloured socks on your feet.

His arms wrapped around you as he pulled you into a very needed hug, it wasn't the first one you had shared but it definitely had some new feelings incorporated. Your breathing slowing down as you felt the rise of his chest against yours, drowning your thoughts into his steady heartbeat.

"I've waited way too long for you"

His eyes flinched open at your words before cussing at himself for keeping both you and him waiting. It happened so casually, so naturally it felt too good.

"I'm here now"

His forehead rested against yours, your hands still resting on his shoulders as you looked into his eyes, seeing the dying red sun on his iris.

He looked so peaceful, you had dreamt of seeing him like this, home and without any stopping a nuclear war stress visible on his frown.

Without the need of anymore words, you spilled your thoughts into his mouth, melting into a deeper kiss as you leant your body foward. His arms were still around you as you wrapped your own slowly around his neck.

Taking the first step yourself you climbed into a welcome lap after a while of kissing, your tongue begining to search his own when-

"Hmm?"

You looked into his eyes and you found doubt crossing them, he looked sideways as he parted from you before speaking.

"This is too straight foward"

He said and even when his words were confusing you found adorable the way he was out of breath, a slight pinkish tint painting his cheeks as he spoke.

"But I do want this"

You whispered out, your left hand laying on his cheek as you got him to look at you once again.

He couldn't help it, those eyes looking at him, begging him to please continue. It messed with his brain, looking back at your lips as you bit them softly before looking back into your eyes and seeing the security, love and lust inside them.

"I want you"

You mouthed into his lips, letting him choose if he still didn't want to take things this way as you had lowered your face into his, not closing the gap once again.

. . .

The sun had set just a few minutes ago and you parted from his lips as you lifted yourself a bit from his lap, earning an unsatisfied growl from bellow. Turning off the lamp next to the sofa creating a soft orange glow in the salon, not too strong to iluminate all of it but at least you could distinguish his face.

You turned around, forced by two calloused hands to sit back down on his lap, silenced by a hungry mouth that intended to finish what you had started.

Inside his head he saw the glint of your skin with this new added light, seeing how a thin layer of sweat had started to cover it in a delicious manner. It only added fuel to his deep desires of just kissing you, biting you, smelling you.

"You look too cute"

Your sudden voice alarmed him, making him face you with that hot blush still resting on his cheeks not giving any signs that it was going away in a while. However he just bit back a chuckle, smirking as he lowered your head to meet his lips once again.

At this point you had lost track of time yet you both still remained with the same clothes as before.

His right hand resting on your back while the other grabbed your thigh as you adjusted yourself on his lap, opting to just wrap your legs around him as he laid back into the sofa, careful not to crush your ankles in the process.

He felt your hands slowly make their way into the start of the half zipped biker jacket he didn't care to take off yet. Sensing your signs, he let you take it off as your lips traveled souther until they softly met his adam apple.

He really felt embarrassed by the way your only kisses were making him feel so hot under his skin.

With his jacket off and your hands exploring his chest within his loose shirt he too started to play with you, feeling up your back and down with big palms as you were busy kissing and nuzzling his neck.

Shuddering by his administrations you took a step further, peeling your shirt off as you revealed your comfy cotton creamy bra. You were starting to kind of regret all of this, you weren't wearing nice clothes, hell your shirt had some dirty spots from cleaning or cooking, you couldn't remember.

"So pretty"

You took in his words before the feeling of his hands laying on your bare skin now, dangerously close to the underside of your breasts as you looked down at him and saw that look of adoration in his eyes.

But you saw something more in them, permission.

"They don't bite"

And by your words, he slowly, really slowly it was starting to make you desesperate as you thought it was his way of teasing, placed his warm palms on your breasts.

They really shouldn't feel that good.

As weird as it sounded your mind started to wander off to how would they feel while you were on your period or even when you took off your bra after a long day, soothing away the pain.

You sighed, closing your eyes as you took in all the sensations, you could feel how tense he was, practically oogling at them it seemed like the first time he was doing this.

But your hands trying to take off his shirt distracted him, chuckling a bit before helping you out, throwing it on the ground the same way you did with your own.

Seeing his chest in all his glory you couldn't help but trace your hand over a scar he had on his left breast, seeming like a bullet wound. He took your hands from it, kissing it before turning your attention back to him.

His stealth skills really gave him advantage not only on the battlefield as he silently undid your bra, only taking notice of it when it was already peeled off from your body.

"Where have you been hiding these"

His comment made you turn redder than you already were, stretching your spine as you now felt his hands touching you properly. His kisses travelling down your neck as a string of saliva united you and his lips.

"Been waiting for this so long"

His roughed out voice made your mind forget the moment he had laid you down on your back on the sofa, his mouth kissing and almost biting your neck.

Wringling your hips he had to keep you grounded as your legs now where at his sides, whimpering as he kissed the spot right bellow your ear.

You could feel everything, the glide of his bare chest against yours, the warmth of his mouth, the tickling sensation of his breath. God you almost fainted when his hand found your nipple, pressing his thumb into it before massaging it around.

"Snak-"

"Call me David"

Right, david.

Liquid wasn't behind your asses anymore.

Shuddering his name his tongue rolled over your left nipple, massaging the other one with his right hand as you gripped his hair. Kind of missing his bandana but glad you could finally see his brows too.

The room was filled with silence and the sound of your shuddering breathing mixed with his own, the moon keeping sight of all of your sins tonight.

If he had known how good you'd sound, he would've done this much, much sooner. He craved you, he needed someone to take care of his needs, sick of just having to hide himself and work for others.

He needed you

And it wasn't only a need, he had felt this way for a long time already. Hell, he hasn't had any time for himself ever since he joined the fox unit once again.

He swore he was going to die without buring his face into a woman's legs once again.

His hand creeped downwards till he found what he was searching for, only to be interrumpted by some shorts. You quickly nodded your head, letting him take them off.

His hand smoothed unnecesarily slow over the skin of your thighs, making you shiver as you begged him to stop his teasing although he really hadn't that intention yet.

"You want this right?"

Sighing, you took his face in between your hands, feeling the smoothness of his aftershave having an effect on his skin. Locking eyes.

"After all the talk we've had, you're still asking for consent?"

You giggled but it really was another sign that attracted you more to him.

"Of course I want you, I've wanted you ever since I met you David, or should I say Snake"

You kissed his ear after muttering his code name, feeling how that little gest made him get all stiff in your arms again, relying on the soft groan that escaped his lips. You smiled greedily, now noticing how aroused he actually was, pressing against your knee.

Groaning he lifted himself up from you a bit, looking with blown out pupils the way you were sprawled bellow him, in nothing more than a pair of messed up panties. He closed his eyes tightly at the sight of seeing you so frustrated and wet, just from him.

Your feet palming him through his pants brought him crashing back down to reality, eyes shooting open to watch the scene. Your lip in between your teeth and your foot deliciously moving up and down his erection, you swore you felt him twitch.

"Playing dirty huh?"

Your half lidded eyes and smirk looking up at him, your chest glistening from his saliva.

His hand then swated your feet off him and now it was his turn to make you all messy and hot like he was.

"Spread your legs out for me sweetheart"

So with his chest heaving he opened your legs for him with big hands keeping them apart. It wasn't a secret that he had to guide all his movements on the battle, however, you were kind of impressed he did too in bed.

His right hand made contact with your inner thigh, head lolling back on the couch as he reached your through your panties, feeling all the slit that had acumulated there pretty much ever since you sat down with him on your sofa.

The arch of your back, your shallow breathing and the way you would flutter your eyes closed in such a beautiful way made him want to already skip foreplay.

Rubbing his fingers up and down your panties he saw the way your hips squirmed by his touch with lidded eyes. He pictured you taking him right there, begging him to please cum with you as your legs trapped him in a jail he wanted to be a prisioner for a long while now.

"Touch me please"

Your words gave him all the green lights he needed, diving right in as he took your panties off, helping you lift your butt and sliding them off your thighs.

He was enthralled with you, feeling softer than he could have ever imagined on lonely nights, sounding way prettier and getting into such a delicious dance with him.

You were slowly empting his sane bar.

His fingers were welcomed back into your heat, almost rolling his eyes back into his skull at the warmth, all the mess you had already got yourself into.

"Already this wet?"

Blushing you turned your head away from him, your arms resting by your sides as you avoided his stare.

"Cmon sweetie, look at me"

But still you wouldn't budge, still too embarrassed to look at him, were you really that messy down there?

"That's it"

He praised when he heard your muffled moan against your palm as he circled your clit, squeezing your cheeks with his other hand as he turned your face to look at him.

Hips halting upwards, he forced them down as he watched you squirm under him, taking your palm off your mouth so he could hear all your sweet whimpers being spilled into the lustry chilly night air.

"That good huh?"

He muttered into your neck as he fastened his movements on your clit, your eyes tearing up as you nodded your head, scratching the back of his hair approvingly as you felt him almost purr into your neck by your sudden contact.

"Gonna stretch you out, yeah? Want me to?"

"Y-yeah, yes"

You coughed as your voice had broken up a bit, feeling a smile forming against your neck in the process.

The pad of a finger began testing the waters, sliding around your entrance as he watched your face, seeing your mouth hang open, eyes closing. Tenderly making his way inside he kissed your mouth, swallowing every moan spilling from your lips as he had freed your hand now, feeling it caress his back as the other one still laid by his head.

The kiss was the slopiest one he had yet given you, sliping his tongue in between yours and the roof of your mouth as he started to move his finger.

The air had gotten even hotter and before he had noticed, your hand had crept inside his pants, caressing him through his briefs as you tried to get some "revenge".

"Mmhp"

Separating from you he let out a low moan, halting his movements for a brief moment as he got used to your soft hand on him, wanting nothing more than your touch.

You were playing the same dirty game he had started yet he couldn't "lose" to you.

So he sped up his movements, biting off a chuckle as he heard your surprised gasp, adding another finger to the stretch as he felt your walls hugging him tightly.

Your hand did wonders too, shuffling him off his pants and briefs as they now pooled right bellow his cock as it sprang free now. You cussed yourself you couldn't even glance at him because of his shoulder blocking your view, however, you could get a pretty solid idea of how it felt against your hand.

And god did it feel heavy.

Playing with his tip you saw his eyes flutter as he now laid his chin on your chest, shutting them close as he tried to focus on your pleasure.

"I'm the one here that's pent up and wet but how about you?"

"You're as hard as a rock"

You whispered the last words into his ear as you brought his head back into you, his nose resting against the headrest.

"It's been a while"

His voice was muffled but you could sense that he was bashfull, pumping him as fastly as he was fingering you, you both had finally became silent, fueling yourselves off the sounds that escaped your mouths.

You felt yourself getting closer, his mouth taunting you with kisses as a mere excuse to shut himself up. Pumping your hand up and down his hips tried to follow your lead, unable to stay put.

"Tell me whenever you're close"

His groggy tone vibrated inside your ear and that mixed with the feeling of him all over you made the coil that was slowly brewing inside your tummy fasten itself.

"Wanna fuck you so bad after this, so warm"

You could no longer see his face as his words were kind of muffled by the sofa and his own groans. You felt him twitch in your hands, his own fingers picking up the fastest pace you had felt yet.

"Dave- I think"

Your words were cut off as you felt yourself tighten, searching for your imminent climax as you clinged into his back, your hand no longer pumping him.

He was rutting into your leg like a dog in heat, kissing all your sweet spots he had come to know by this short period of time.

"Cum for me love, I know you can"

That was all you needed, practically screaming his name as you tilted your hips upward, head laying down on the sofa as your eyes closed shut.

His fingers kept pumping inside of you, driving you through your orgasm as he shushed you softly, caressing your cheek with his other hand as he rested himself up in his elbow.

The aftermath of his ministrations really tired you up still, as soon as you felt him rocking slowly into your leg you knew what you both really needed. He took off his pants, almost stepping on them as they fell to the ground.

"Woah, already ready for round two?"

"It's not a round two if you haven't even cum"

Your heated words were soon forgotten inside his head as you had now pushed him into his back, climbing back down into his lap. But now, feeling all you against all of him.

He was standing tall and proud by your stomach and you couldn't help yourself but take a good look out of the scene. You placed your hand right on your belly button and on top of his angry red tip, smiling at the hiss that left his mouth.

"You're gonna reach this deep"

Your words came out unexpectedly as his eyes turned almost white from how far they had opened, looking down with you as he admired the view, such a beautiful one.

"You think you can handle me being, that deep inside you?"

He puncuated his last words by grabbing a hold of both of your cheeks, squeezing them after giving them a soft pat.

He knew what he was doing.

He fucking knew.

But you loved it.

This side of him, his raw part, the one he didn't have to fake for anyone, his true feelings and needs. He was making you see red, rubbing your ass so smoothly, practically motioning you to sit on him already.

So you did, hovering over him with your hands placed securedly on his shoulders as he held your back tenderly with his right hand while his left rested on your hip, helping you down.

Wait, hold on, wait-

"Snake- I mean David, fuck, I forgot protection"

You went over to scramble off him but his hands kept you secured into his chest, not letting you go anywhere as he rubbed your back trying to get you to listen to him.

"Don't worry about that, I can't become a father even If I wanted to"

"Huh?"

Your eyes searched his face, looking into them as you saw a ting of pain inside them.

"You know all of my father clonation shit, I'm sterile, I'm not trying to lie to you y/n"

Right, you know remembered the talk you had with Otacon one day, explaining to you all of the "enfants terribles" project and hell was it terrible.

"Right, sor-"

His lips were on yours before you could even mutter a single apology, his left hand begining to move yourself against him once again as he sensed you pulsing down there. A good sign, he thought.

So you parted from him, getting into the real fun as your lips started to take him. Feeling his head pop in a little too fast, you whined out, a stretchy tingle of pain visible in your face as you stopped.

"I'm a patient man, be careful"

However, you could see that he wasn't. Biting his lip as not only his eye twitched the more you sunk down.

You repositioned yourself, a hand on his chest while the other still grabbed his shoulder for support. Finding the right angle it felt like it would never end, both of you closing your eyes as you savoured the moment. He knew if he opened them and saw you trying to fit him in, he would've busted right then and there.

"Fucking hell"

That's when he knew he was all the way inside, your butt touching his legs as you took a deep breath his eyes not leaving your face for the slightest moment.

"I don't want to be just your fuck buddy"

A confused groan left his lips.

"I know you will have to leave after this, but please, don't let this be a one time tension reliever"

He toon your cheek into his hands, rubbing it softly as he tried to find the sweetest voice he could utter out.

"I'll find you, I promise, I will come back here"

You felt a tear fall down your cheek, you felt connected to him, in a deep and far from understanding way.

"It's difficult now, I know, but I'll find you y/n"

His skin was yours, every breath you took was his, everything.

So with that said, you began moving, him immediately responding with a low groan at your sudden movement.

You felt full, not only in a sexual way, but your heart was full too. Crying out, not from pain like he would've thought but from pleasure, from the way you loved him so dearily, from having him beside you once again.

"I miss-ed y-you"

Your words were cut off everytime you bounced off his lap, your words being more than enough for him to want to coddle you up, so he did.

Grabbing your back he pulled him into you, hearts beating into each other fastly as your nipples rubbed against the expanse of his broad chest.

"I missed you too- hmpmh"

His own voice even cracked when you tightened up on him, feeling the wash of a brief overstimulation against him.

His cock rubbing all the right spots inside you making you hug him tighter, fuck him faster and kiss him deeper.

His hips began pushing into your own movements, making your vision blurry from all the pleasure he was giving you.

"You like that huh?"

"Please more Dave"

No more words were needed for him as he picked up a brutal pace within your cunt, hips pistoning into your own making you see starts.

He was spilling all of the words unsaid into you, all of his piled up feelings into your womb, eyes almost crossing when you had tightened up. Your arms digging into his back you were reduced into a stupid mess by now, blabbering his name as you bounced up and down almost automatically now.

"I'm pretty close... fu-fuck sweetheart"

He groaned out as his hands kept a bruising grip on your hips, basically doing all the work for you. And you could feel it.

The way he had become even bigger inside you, his tip pushing your fungy spot all over and over again, your name spilling out of his mouth out of the blue often. He felt as if he was going to explode so soon yet he wanted to drag you down to hell with him too.

"Cum with me... pl-please"

Your tear stained cheeks begged him so badly, so cutely to just cum, just for you. Almost the same vision he had imagined earlier, your mouth red the same tone as your cheeks as you pleaded.

"Please Dave- I... ngh! Need it"

Your voice pitched up as he drove himself so deliciously into you, he wanted nothing more than to fill you, to see it dripping out. Pumping himself inside of you he stayed there as ropes of white had began to paint your insides, your own climax washing all over you as you felt his arms pull you into him once again.

Chest heaving into each other, panting into each others ears like animals you tried to regain concioussness after the extreme pleasure you had recieved.

"Feeling alright?"

Hearing your voice he opened his eyes to see you in the most ethereal way he had ever seen you. Your hair sticking into your forehead, teary eyes looking out for him and trembling limbs on his lap.

You were absolutely spent.

And it was all his fault.

However, he did look like and angel too. The afterglow of sex lingering on his skin as he tried to regain his breath which he did pretty quickly, his body soaked up in sweat and his loving eyes, pupils blown wide.

"Better than ever"

He smiled so sweetly, so cutely you just felt the need to squeeze his cheeks like a granny, nuzzling his nose as you both giggled.

With a sigh you laid into his chest, forgetting the gushy sensation in between your legs, feeling it dripping down his legs. His arms wrapped around you like a blanket, not letting the chilly air of the air cool you down.

You let out a hiss as he repositioned himself, enhancing both of your overstimulations on the process.

"Shit, right, sorry"

You smiled at his rushed apology, but he quickly brushed it off you as he slipped out of you, whining out into his neck at the loss of contact.

"Lets get you cleaned up"

And with those words and your stolen answer from his sudden movement, picking you up from the sofa and starting to walk into what he thought was the bathroom.

[twstbookclub]

Inked Blossoms

Summary: Jamil didn't think much of you when he received a flower basket. You were his new neighbor running a flower shop—nothing more, nothing less. So, why can't he stop coming by after visiting you once? POV: 2nd Person Pronouns: Gender-neutral Admin/Writer: Cressa🦋 Tags: Tattoo Artist x Florist AU, Tattoo Artist!Jamil, Florist!Reader, Fluff, Romance, Angst, No happy ending, sorry folks, Mentions of Blood and Self-harm, Use of Flower Language, Jamil's POV Word Count: 4, 025 Main Reference for Flower Meanings: Boeckmann, C. (2023, November 17). What does each flower symbolize? The Old Farmer's Almanac.

And I thought the Riddle fic I wrote is my longest one 💀 I actually had this plot in mind in the same month as I thought of the Riddle fic, which was back in April of last year. I only put in one link here, but I fact-checked every flower I used in this fic with other sources. Admittedly, when I wrote this, I received some heartbreaking news that morning and I cried my eyes out. I may or may not have projected those feelings into this and incorporated my previous experiences here. To all the Jamil stans, I'm so sorry that my first fic of this guy is long and angsty. I hope you all enjoy, though 💕

Jamil stared at the flowers on his parlor’s doorstep. Pink peonies and coral roses filled the twine basket, along with a purple flower that he didn’t know the name of. The arrangement emphasized the purple flowers, while there were a few peonies mixed in with the roses. What piqued Jamil’s curiosity were the leaves that lined the edges of the basket. He squinted, subconsciously leaning down to peer at the blooms at his feet.

“... Is that basil?” He mumbled, confused about the inclusion of a familiar herb. It was something he often used in his cooking, particularly when he was roommates with Kalim back in high school. That boy’s palate was too refined for anything bland and ready-made, so Jamil always had to cook with spices and herbs. It came to the point that the smell stuck to his clothes, even after a thorough wash in the laundry. Not just his clothes—even his hair. He already had a meticulous process with his hair care and bejeweled braids, so it was a nuisance.

He shook his head, before he took the flower basket in his hands. The blooms jostled a little, and a gentle hand pushed a peony back in place. Something nagged at Jamil to look to the left, for some reason. When he turned his head, the sign of the shop next door caught his attention.

“A flower shop, huh.” That was new. Jamil vaguely remembered this lot being sold recently, but he never thought it’d be turned into a store like that. It used to be an antique store owned by an elderly woman. She minded her own business, despite the weird and judgmental looks he received for the henna tattoos that decorated Jamil’s tan hands and arms.

Jamil’s eyes darted from the cursive letters of the sign to the flowers and plants displayed behind the glass walls. The name of the shop was painted on one of the walls in gold—above some of the artful arrangements of red roses, white carnations, and calla lilies. There was a shift of color behind them, and he narrowed his eyes again for a better look.

Someone was tending to the flowers. He could vaguely make out the color of their hair and the verdant apron over a white polo shirt. With the large bouquets in the way, Jamil couldn’t see a face. Sighing and shaking his head, he walked into his tattoo parlor with the flower basket in his arms.

If all his time in the city taught him anything, it was that nothing in this world was free.

Still, Jamil couldn’t help but wonder what the purple flowers were. They reminded him of tulips, but the petals were thinner and pointed at the tips. The stamen was visible, too. It was a stark contrast to the blooming tulips he knew: blunt-tipped and oval petals without the stamen being visible. He made a mental note to search about them once he went home.

Jamil found out that the purple blooms were called crocuses, and he wound up finding a website detailing the meanings of every flower imaginable. The flowers replaced the lamp that used to be on the table next to his bed. Every morning, he’d wake up to the colorful arrangement in a vase with his mind stuck on the meaning of each flower.

Maybe he should see what the florist was like. If they were like the antique shop owner from before, then Jamil would just remain polite and ignore them whenever he could.

On a slow and quiet day in the parlor, Jamil flipped the sign and locked the door. He shoved the key in his pocket, while his eyes drifted to the flower displays and bouquets through the glass walls. A blur of white and green moved behind them, but he still couldn’t put a face to the florist.

Jamil would have to see if he was curious enough to put a name to that face, too.

A chime echoed in the store once he stepped inside, and an onslaught of fragrance hit him. He noted that it wasn’t as powerful as the smell of spices, ones that he can taste from the scent alone. Still, it was strong enough to leave him a little lightheaded.

“Ah, welcome!” A voice rang through the back, behind an open door that led to what Jamil assumed was a small greenhouse. Sacks of fertilizer and clay pots filled with flowers peeked out of the metal shelves. The sight was obscured by a green apron, stitched with the same cursive letters of the store sign.

Charcoal gray eyes met lively, cheerful ones. The gloved hands that gripped the door frame were smeared with soil, maybe even fertilizer. Dirt smudged your cheek, but his gaze drifted to your lips. Your smile—too bright to be natural—was difficult to look away from. Something churned in his chest the longer he looked at it.

“Oh,” you mumbled, which made Jamil look back into your eyes again, “you’re my next-door neighbor. Hi! I hope you like the flowers. I’m, uh…”

A sheepish chuckle left your lips, making Jamil’s heart lurch. He resisted the urge to scowl at the feeling. He just met you, and he’d rather not make a bad impression. The tattoo artist came to your store to meet you like a proper neighbor, not to antagonize you.

“I came by to say hi, and you weren’t there. I had to get the shop ready and all, so I decided to leave the basket and hope that it stays there—” You sighed, took off one of your gloves, and ran a hand through your hair— “and I’m rambling. Sorry about that.”

Jamil watched you, anxious and fidgety, and he suppressed a smile. There was something amusing about how you acted like a mouse: squeaking and retreating at any sign of danger. Although, he highly doubted that you saw him as a threat.

You were just… shy. You talked a lot, but you were shy.

“It’s fine,” Jamil raised a hand and smiled, practiced and polite, “and I appreciate the flowers. Thank you. It’s a beautiful arrangement—you have a way with bringing out their natural beauty.”

He probably laid it on too thick. It was a habit at this point: butter up people to ease them, to let their guard down. Jamil merely planned to meet this florist to satisfy his curiosity. He never considered the option of befriending this person, much less engaging in a long conversation with you.

Your face lit up, as if something dawned on you in that moment. Chuckling, you stretched out the hand without the glove and gave him your name. It was followed with a cheerful, “It’s nice to meet you! I hope we can get along, um…”

“Jamil,” he shook your hand with that same, practiced smile, “Jamil Viper. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He noticed your eyes dart towards his hand and arm, inked with the traditional motifs and patterns of his homeland. Under the sunlight that streamed through the glass, your eyes seemed to sparkle. Your mouth parted in a silent, “Oh.”

“That’s so pretty,” you blurted out and continued to stare at the henna tattoos. Jamil simply watched you with wide eyes, but the surprise disappeared in that same instant. Your voice, loud and happy, filled the silence of the room.

“The amount of detail here is amazing, and—Oh, there’s even more tiny patterns inside another pattern. That’s so cool!”

Even though this much praise usually annoyed Jamil (it reminded him too much of Kalim), he found himself flustered. A faint warmth spread across his cheeks as he watched you marvel at the tattoos. You raised a hand, probably to trace the design with a finger, when you paused.

Your smile was frozen on your face, as if you caught yourself doing something embarrassing. Your own cheeks flushed in shame, before you pulled away with a nervous giggle. Jamil almost laughed at how ridiculous you looked at the moment.

He ignored the small voice in the back of his mind that called you cute.

It was supposed to be a one-time encounter. Jamil only visited your flower shop to see the person who opened a new business next to his tattoo parlor. He wanted to see whether this new neighbor of his was going to be tolerable or otherwise. One meeting was enough to deem you tolerable; someone that Jamil could politely wave to if you two happened to pass by each other.

So, why was he looking at a bouquet of irises and white jasmines right now? Why was he standing in your store on a Sunday morning?

“You’ve been coming a lot here lately.” Your voice rang from the back, much like how Jamil first met you. He looked over his shoulder to see you admiring the other flowers with a small smile.

“I don’t mind, really, and it’s nice to have you here. I just didn’t expect you to come here almost every day,” you clarified with a chuckle as you approached him. The telltale flush of your cheeks already told Jamil about how embarrassed you were to confess that. He watched you caress one of the petals of a hydrangea with a gentle look.

For a weekend, it was surprisingly quiet here. People flocked to your store during its first week, and Jamil observed all this in the comfort of his parlor. The window provided a clear view of what was going on, so he didn’t need to go outside. You became frazzled in a matter of moments—running around and arranging the flowers yourself—and that amused Jamil. Just a bit.

Still, you smiled throughout that hectic week.

Me neither, Jamil wanted to say. Instead, he answered, “It’s another slow day in my shop, so I decided to visit. I suppose it’s become a habit whenever I have nothing else to do.”

You chuckled, and Jamil pretended his heart didn’t skip a beat. He ignored the twitch of his lips, curling into a small smile. Oblivious to the look the tattoo artist gave you, you continued to admire the flowers.

“That’s fine with me. Besides, I like your company.”

Your shameless honesty was going to be the death of Jamil. The tips of his ears grew warm, and he tugged his hood over them. He already concluded that you were a thoughtful and considerate person after spending some time with you. You prepared tea and cookies, ones you yourself baked, every time he visited. Careful hands arranged the flowers by meaning and color, which already said enough about you. Being a florist sounded just right for someone like you.

Jamil briefly wondered what flowers you’d give him if you wanted to give him a bouquet.

He cleared his throat, mimicking a cough, before he shifted his attention to the irises and jasmines again. Ever since he searched the meanings of the flowers in that basket, he couldn’t help but be curious.

“Can you tell me what these mean in flower language?” He asked, glancing at you from behind his hood. Whether you found this action odd or not, you didn’t comment on it.

With a curious hum, you leaned over to look at what Jamil referred to and smiled wider. You replied, “Ah, irises can mean wisdom, faith, trust, valor, and hope. As for white jasmines…”

You raised an eyebrow at Jamil with a mischievous grin. He didn’t dare entertain the thought that you were being adorable from the action alone. He didn’t dare hope that the gesture actually meant something.

“They can mean sweet love, and the person who receives them is seen as friendly and pleasant.” You paused, before you suddenly left Jamil’s side and reached for the adjacent wall of flowers. Before Jamil could say anything, you already extended a white bloom under his nose.

Wide-eyed and bewildered, he stared at the flower in your hand. It somewhat resembled a rose in full bloom, but the petals were shaped differently. Another amused laugh echoed in the room. You took his hand, inked with intricate patterns that crawled his skin like vines, and placed the flower in it.

Jamil realized that it was a gardenia. This species of flora grew in some part of the botanical garden of his high school. He was only familiar with it because he used to pass by the area to relax, preferably alone.

“I think this suits you, though.” You hummed and returned to the counter with a spin of your heel. Jamil watched you wordlessly as you disappeared into the greenhouse. From where he stood, the tattoo artist saw pink and white camellias peeking through one of the shelves. He nearly jumped when your head popped out of the door frame.

“Oh, and can you help me carry some of these pots around? They’re pretty heavy, thanks!”

It was only until Jamil got home that he searched for the meaning of the gardenia. The bright laptop screen glared at him as he entered the keywords in the search bar. He clicked on the first result and—

Jamil stared at the words with darkening cheeks. His mouth became dry, and his tongue was tied into knots. His hand slammed the monitor shut, before he abruptly stood up and left for the kitchen. He needed some water. He needed to not think too much into things. You were going to be the death of him, Jamil swore to that.

Still, the words were already seared into his memory: you’re lovely.

Jamil found himself visiting you whenever he could. You always asked for his help whenever heavy labor was involved. If it was anyone else, he would’ve felt annoyed. With you, it was just an excuse for Jamil to stay longer.

Fleeting touches, subtle glances, and shy smiles—it was like your own language. Not a single word was exchanged, yet it felt like you said more than Jamil could comprehend. He didn’t miss the moments when your hands lingered too long over his. He would be a fool not to notice that a cookie jar and a box of teabags sat on the counter each time he visited.

For the past year, you’d give him a single flower every day without fail. One time, after the usual tea, it was a morning glory. Another time, when you were particularly homesick and Jamil stayed to chat, you gave him a hydrangea. When he visited your house and took care of you when you became sick, you gave him a yellow lily the next day. He always brought them home, but it came to the point that a mishmash of flowers in a vase brought color and life to his workspace. It sat under the window, where it bathed under a patch of sunlight. He even considered buying another vase due to the sheer amount.

You gave him all kinds of flowers, but he’d never forget the first gardenia he received from you.

“That looks out of place,” one customer pointed out while Jamil prepared the needle. He already knew what he was talking about, but the tattoo artist still followed his line of sight. A soft smile stretched from one ear to the other, and he didn’t bother hiding it.

Without looking away from the flowers, he answered, “They’re gifts from a friend. It’s the only place I can think of where they can be cared for.”

He ignored the sly, knowing grin on the customer’s face. Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, Jamil gestured towards the chair and continued to prepare everything he needed for this job.

One sunny day, your storefront was crowded more than usual. Jamil paid no mind to the crowd as he pulled his hood over his head. Inked hands grabbed a bundle of flowers, tied with twine, from the table. They were placed far from the vases that decorated the parlor; just to avoid confusion. His eyes fell on the gardenia he drew on the back of his hand. Jamil added that some time ago, maybe around the past month. Still, it made him smile.

Jamil locked the door, then he instinctively looked at the flower shop. His heart stuttered at the sight of the flowers amongst the crowd. The vibrant and lively blossoms were like a splash of color against the dull tones of the city. What used to be gray pavement and monochrome buildings seemed to come to life with just a few flowers.

He blinked his surprise away, before he gripped the bouquet in his hands. The thrum of his heart and the sweat on his palms weren’t something foreign to Jamil. He always felt like this at the thought of you, even Kalim noticed the change in his friend when he visited once. Your smile flashed in his mind, and his own lips curled into a small one. His feet led him to where he knew you were.

Past the flower shop; past the crowd that lingered at the storefront; past the fresh flowers that gathered against the glass walls. Jamil’s feet grew heavier with each step, as if lead hit the concrete and left faint cracks behind. He stepped through the iron-wrought gates with a soft exhale. His grip on the flowers tightened. He considered going back to the tattoo parlor.

In the end, he thought he’d regret it if he backed out now. Blades of grass grazed his sneakers as he walked through rows of stones. Names were etched into each one, a reminder of who they were to the loved ones left behind. Charcoal gray eyes looked straight ahead. He didn’t bother looking at any of them.

It had been a year since that day, but he still remembered where you were.

Grass crunched under his feet as he stopped in front of an unassuming headstone. Engraved in the stone was your name—funny how he never knew your surname until the funeral. You never told him when you introduced yourself, and he didn’t pry. He even imagined you with his surname at some point, but…

Jamil swallowed the lump in his throat. He crouched on one knee and laid the bundle of flowers on your grave. The tattoo artist made the effort of arranging the colorful blooms in a way that you would. At least, how he remembered that you would.

He stood with his hands in his pockets, and he stared at your gravestone with that same lump in his throat. A sigh rang in the empty cemetery. A cool breeze carried the hustle and bustle of the city. The laugh that used to plague Jamil’s everyday life here was missing. It was gone for months now, but he could still hear it clearly in his head.

“Hey,” Jamil mumbled, clenching his hands into fists, “it’s been a while. I’m sorry I only visited today. It… took me some time to come to terms with what happened. Regardless, you deserved an earlier visit.”

No answer, Of course, there was no answer. You’ve been dead for quite some time now. That was an understatement, considering that a year has already passed.

Jamil’s stomach churned, and an insufferable heat filled his chest. His eyes stung. His nails pierced into the skin of his palms. The lump in his throat seemed to grow bigger, and he found it hard to breathe. Memories of your smile, your laugh, and the time he spent with you and your flowers overlapped in his mind.

He dug his heels into the dirt as he gritted his teeth. The sting behind his eyes grew worse. It was hard to breathe, and he found it harder to speak. He somehow forced the words out with a broken heart, pieces scattered along the ashes of what was left of you.

“You idiot,” Jamil choked out as his vision blurred with tears, “you could’ve called me to help you. How was I supposed to know you were still sick? How was I supposed to know you needed to carry that ridiculously huge flower display across the street? How was I supposed to know that car would lose control and—”

Jamil looked up to the sky with a clenched jaw, teeth clacking and shaking his skull from the force. He wanted to scream. He wanted to curse whatever deity existed in this world. He wanted to forget how you looked, pale and bleeding on the street, that day. He wanted to erase that memory of you until his heart bled out and his voice croaked its last scream.

“—they haven’t found the driver. Everyone who knew you petitioned to keep the shop in your memory. Someone else took over, too. You don’t have to worry about your flowers anymore.”

Since that day, whenever Jamil looked at the ink that adorned his hands and arms, all he remembered was your loud voice and bright smile. Your praise and astonishment echoed in his head like a broken record player. He couldn’t count the amount of times he tried to scrub them clean from his skin. If that didn’t work, he scratched at them until he bled and the patterns were hidden under that shade of red.

In hindsight, Jamil thought that was idiotic of him. Love turned anyone into idiots, anyway.

Sighing, Jamil forced the tears back and looked down at your gravestone. If he tried hard enough, he could imagine you smiling and laughing again. The image of you, lifeless and still on the road, would become a scar that faded with time. He hoped it would be.

“I thought of giving you baby’s breath,” Jamil began as the lump in his throat returned, “along with forget-me-nots, and blue salvia. It would be a horrible contrast, but I also thought of adding pink carnations.”

He paused, before bitterly chuckling to himself. “I don’t have your skills, though. You were always amazing with flower arrangements. I couldn’t hold a candle to you, and I rarely tell anyone that. I didn’t want to give you something that was less than perfect—you deserve more than that, so I settled with sweet peas.”

Jamil knew he was talking to himself. He always found it ridiculous how anyone talked to the dead, even if he understood the necessity to respect the ones who passed. This one time, he understood why people did this. Jamil just couldn’t bring himself to accept the circumstances that led to that revelation.

“They mean goodbye in flower language, but I prefer the other meaning. Maybe, in another life, I would’ve bought you flowers for a date. I was thinking of asking you on a date before. Did you know that?”

Another bitter chuckle. Another shaky breath.

“I was supposed to ask you that day. I finally found the courage to try, and what did I see? You…” The words were stuck in Jamil’s throat. He couldn’t force the words out this time. The clamor outside and the harsh slam of his parlor door echoed in his memories. He didn’t want his last memory of you to be your dying breath. He’d rather not remember that at all.

Jamil shook his head and continued, “I apologize for that. What you need to know is that I like you. I may even go so far as to say I love you, and I’m sorry I never told you earlier. I hope you can forgive me for that.”

The tattoo artist sat down in front of your headstone. He didn’t care if dirt and grass stained his jeans this time. He reached out to trace the name etched into the stone, with the same hand where the inked gardenia peeked out of his sleeve.

“I like your flowers. I like all of them. I still keep them with me. I wish I told you that sooner,” Jamil mumbled, voice cracking at the end. A tear rolled down his left cheek and dripped into the soil. His shoulders shook in a silent sob as he breathed his last words to you.

“Thank you for a lovely time. I’ll never forget you.”

[fushiglow]

a short fic for the prompt: gojo, megumi + last embrace

i wrote this yesterday so i'm hoping the fortuitous timing is a good omen. time to bring this baby boy home 🖤

thank you for enabling my angsty ass, @miidnightzone, i really enjoyed writing this — hope it hits the spot for you too! i really ran away with this one. it's about 1.5k words and i'm quite proud of what i achieved with it, so i might upload it to my ao3 at some point. we'll see!!

content warning: angst

‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened, I’m sor—’ ‘It’s alright, Tsumiki.’ The girl was near hysterical — and who could blame her when her eight year old brother had disappeared in the middle of the night wearing only his Keroppi pyjamas? Satoru pinched the bridge of his nose in a fruitless attempt to quell the pain behind his eyes. It had been a big jump — probably the longest distance he’d ever attempted to teleport in a single leap — but when the children’s nanny had called in the early hours of the morning using the number dedicated for emergencies, he’d had little choice but to make it. ‘You didn’t do anything wrong.’ Satoru smiled at Tsumiki in a way he hoped was reassuring. It felt more like a grimace to him. ‘So there’s no need to apologise, is there?’ Cheeks shining with tears, the little girl took a great shuddering breath. Then, faster than Satoru could blink, she stopped crying— —and a pleasant smile found its home on her features instead. It was downright disturbing. Not for the first time, Satoru wondered where Tsumiki had learned such behaviours; how he was supposed to make himself feel safe to the child. ‘Tuck yourself back into bed,’ he said, as softly as he could manage. ‘By the time you wake up in the morning, Megumi will be home safe and sound. Alright?’ Tsumiki gave a tight nod, but hesitated when the children’s nanny placed a hand on her shoulder. Fingers fisting into her pyjama top, she looked at Satoru with wide glassy eyes, searching for something he wasn’t sure he could give her. The Fushiguro siblings were particular about physical contact, starved of it and yet reluctant to seek it out for themselves. Megumi would scratch and hiss if Satoru even dared to ruffle his hair, but Tsumiki seemed to yearn for it even if she didn’t know how to ask for it. The problem was, Satoru didn’t know how to offer it either. These days, he barely even knew how to exist around other humans without Infinity, let alone how to comfort a child with tender affection — how to cradle a small body to his chest and whisper soothing reassurances and make himself soft and warm and safe. Satoru didn’t know how to be a home, but he could track cursed energy better than anyone else. Offering Tsumiki one last grimace, the man with the Six Eyes made himself useful the only way he knew how.

The children’s nanny had been worried about kidnappings — Zen’in sneaking into the compound or something equally ridiculous — but Satoru thought it much more likely that Megumi’s disappearance was related to the little green frogs adorning his pyjamas. Dimly, he realised it probably should have aroused his suspicion when Megumi took a sudden interest in the character after learning about the Ten Shadows. Rather, after Satoru had taught him about the Ten Shadows. Shaking fears of the worst from his head, he searched with renewed focus. Not that it was hard to follow the trail of an eight year old with poor control over his cursed energy. Megumi's residuals were all over the place, tracking all the way — as expected — to the edges of the Gojō estate and beyond. Even without the Six Eyes, it was easy enough to find the boy in the light of the full moon. When he did, however, Satoru needed a moment to piece together what exactly he was looking at. Traces of Megumi’s technique were everywhere, a blot of haphazard shadows over the terrain — like one of the finger paintings he’d brought home from school — but there was no sign of a struggle with a curse. No sign of anyone else either. Only the unique residuals of shadow shikigami. Perhaps the most telling evidence of what had happened, however, was Megumi himself. There were no visible injuries on the boy, save for the dried blood trickling from his left nostril. As Satoru suspected, then. He crouched down next to the boy sprawled out in the dirt, taking in the slow rise and fall of his chest. It was exhaustion, plain and simple, but it was still shocking to see Megumi in that state. What had possessed him to sneak out in the middle of the night and tackle the challenge unaided was beyond Satoru. ‘Does it bother you that much to rely on me?’ he wondered aloud. The response came in the twitch of a nose. Opening one bleary green eye then another, Megumi blinked up at Satoru with a disgruntled expression on his face. All at once, he seemed to recognise the man. ‘Gojō.’ No honorific. He really was out of it then. ‘Look.’ Megumi elaborated no further. Instead, with monumental effort, he raised two trembling hands to touch the tips of his thumbs and forefingers together. Finally, he mumbled the command. ‘Gama.’ Summoned from the shadows — strong in the light of the full moon — a tiny frog sprang forth. Something strange swelled in Satoru’s chest. The feeling caught in his throat, escaping as a gasp rather than the shout of excitement it felt like it wanted to become. He watched the creature hop once, twice. It gave a weak croak before immediately dissipating, bleeding back into the shadows. When he looked at the little boy again, Satoru was smiling. What was truly miraculous, however, was the fact that Megumi was smiling too. It was just a tiny upwards curve of the lips — barely even enough to qualify as a smile — but it was something Satoru had never seen on the boy before. It faltered when the nosebleed started up again.

Megumi had pushed himself too far — or perhaps exactly far enough. Though his cursed energy reserves were well and truly depleted, the fact that he’d managed to summon the frog at all spoke of his growth. Not for the first time, Satoru felt a rush of anticipation for the sorcerer that Megumi would one day become. Strong enough to stand with Satoru. Not just strong either. Yaga would probably scold Satoru for praising Megumi and then scold Megumi for good measure, but Satoru couldn’t help feeling impressed by the tactical intellect the boy had already shown at such a young age. His potential was boundless. ‘Full moon, huh? Smart kid.’ Megumi merely grumbled in response. Looking at the boy, barely able to raise his head off the ground, Satoru understood what was about to happen. It didn’t stop him from asking the question, just in case. ‘Any chance you can stand up?’ When Megumi didn’t even turn to look at him with that dead-eyed stare of his, Satoru sighed, giving in to the inevitable. He reached out, hands hovering over the boy before he snatched them back, hesitating. He didn’t know how to do this. ‘Megumi, I’m going to carry you. Is that alright?’ No response. Satoru swallowed, tentatively reaching out again. ‘I’m going to touch you now, okay?’ The boy didn’t say yes, but he didn’t say no either. Setting his jaw, Satoru slid his hands under the little body on the ground. Despite the fact that Megumi was as limp as a rag doll, Satoru found it surprisingly easy to hoist him into his arms. Whether that was because the boy was particularly light for his age or simply because Satoru had never held a child before, he didn’t know. When he got to his feet, a head of wild black hair dropped onto his shoulder and Satoru's stomach gave a strange lurch in response. He felt stiff, awkward, with one hand tucked under Megumi’s thighs and the other hovering uselessly at his back. He even started to panic a little. Because as the moment stretched on and Satoru found himself frozen in place still, it started to become painfully clear that he wasn’t built for this. No, Gojō Satoru was built for blowing things up and crushing things down and sometimes doing both things at the same time. The fingers suspended at the place over the boy’s heart were the same fingers capable of levelling an entire city. They were weapons. Could they really be trusted to hold this little life?

Megumi probably didn’t know what he was doing when he reached around Satoru’s neck, clutching at the uniform on his back with small fists. He was probably delirious with exhaustion — probably hallucinating that he was in the arms of his father, perish the thought. Still, Satoru found that it settled him all the same. The weight of that small body pressed against his suddenly felt like a comfort — because he'd almost forgotten that hugs were warm. He let his fingers fall onto the boy’s back and pulled him in close. — It was the first and last time Satoru held Megumi. The only time — because this? The body of a boy he loves in his embrace, strong and tall and brimming with power? This isn’t Megumi. It feels like him, looks like him, sounds like him — but Satoru has been deceived by a devil wearing someone else’s skin before. There are no little hands grabbing at his back, no soft black curls tucked into his neck. The shadows scattered across the ruined landscape are unfamiliar. This isn’t Megumi. The man with the Six Eyes makes himself useful the only way he knows how. Gojō Satoru falls back and raises his weapon.

if you wanna submit a prompt or request, head over to my retrospring — make sure to read the guidelines first!

[stranded-labyrinth]

Do you by chance have any soul crushing fic recommendations?

soul crushing, huh?

jokes aside i've made a few fic rec lists that are essentially the entirety of my good bookmarks LMFAO. i don't usually tend to go for fics that are hurt no comfort or major character death, so i'm afraid outside of the bounds of what i've already posted, i don't have much that's soul crushing. i'll throw these few at you and hope for the best; some of them are really only soul crushing because of the POV they're in, not so much the way the story itself ends

Where They'll Never Hear Us Scream by Cynthia_Cross

Will steps out of the hospital elevator to find himself in the basement after the fall. He searches for Hannibal.

Oil Spill by nbcravenstag

Will calls Hannibal in a panic after he sleepwalks and ends up in the woods. Hannibal finds him and gets him home safely, but there are more than just nightmares and exhaustion crawling around in Will's mind now, and Hannibal begins to realize that perhaps he pushed too far.

Sultinys by GracefulFalcon

Sultinys is the Lithuanian word for broth, typically made with some type of meat/bones, root vegetables, and spices. Hannibal cannot eat anything outside of a liquid diet because of his abdominal wound, so Will makes him soup. It does not go very well.

Hosanna in the Highest by Cynthia_Cross

During the fall, Hannibal receives the brunt of the injuries, which leaves him unable to care for himself. Will discovers how much he enjoys taking care of him.

You're Looking Like I Feel by McRibFarewellTour

Will’s been out of prison for a week, and Hannibal still hasn’t heard from him. Needless to say, he does not find this acceptable and decides to take action.

The Longest Night by nbcravenstag

During their first fight as a couple, Hannibal moves a little too fast, and Will just... flinches.

Hannibal has to face the music and take responsibility for the mistakes he's made and the trauma he's inflicted. Angsty, fluffy, softly smutty, and a happy ending to make everything okay again.

i could also throw antiheroblake and Cynthia_Cross' entire list of AO3 works at you but that would make a long list LOL. hope you enjoy :]

[purpleyin]

Time for an angsty many years post-Crooked Kingdom Kaz whump concept. More of a not!fic style but I hope it's still enjoyable🖤

all the nightmares I’ve had

Years after Kaz gets his revenge, Pekka Rollin's family is killed in a tragic accident. It has nothing to do with Kaz or the Crows but Pekka is convinced Kaz is responsible. Pekka is deep in his grief, reckless and has no fear for what he could lose any more, Inej's threats to himself forgotten. He surprises Kaz, and his touch aversion works against him, so Pekka does manage to take him down along with the help of some chemicals. Kaz had made progress on that, less guarded and covered up these days, but if there's one person guaranteed to take him right back to the barge mentally it's Pekka touching him. Pekka gets him into the coffin so easily after that, buries him six feet deep, but he doesn't just want to kill him. He sets up a way that Kaz won't run out of air down there. No, it will be dehydration that kills him as he slowly starves down there too. He's groggy from the drugs and injured from the scuffle with Pekka but he knows well enough he has no way out this time because it isn't locks he can pick that trap him, instead an oppressive mass of earth bearing down on him, gravity itself working against his escape. Even those who try to pull off such tricks as entertainment often die trying, so Kaz has no hope he can evade this when the circumstances here are designed to kill. As he comes back to more himself, the dawning reality is so much harder to deal with. Being left for dead is his worst nightmare happening all over again, despite that it isn't the barge, it's still too close. He won't call out via the spout in case Pekka is listening, waiting for him to beg - he won't give Pekka that satisfaction. Pekka won't have been foolish enough to bury Kaz where anyone else would overhear any cries for help anyway. Pekka's hubris is much the same as Kaz's was, abandoning the simple solution of a quick death because he wants him to suffer as long as possible, for it to be fitting. Just how long Kaz can last is partly a matter of willpower, how long he can remain calm and hang on to the will to live. Hope has never been something Kaz put much stock in but he clings to the hope that people will miss him, that they will care to look for him, that he will be found in time, not forgotten down here as he grows groggier again with lack of water. To distract himself, he stews on plans for his own revenge once he gets out of this, until it becomes too hard to think properly and the old fears creep back into his hazy mind. Water starts to seeps in from rain down the air spout, leaving him wet and cold and losing any remaining faith that he will get out of this nightmare. The Crows don't know Kaz is missing until the next day and they spend over a day searching the city until Jesper finally gets a feeling drawing him towards Black Veil island, hoping desperately that the incredibly rare mineral he's sensing there is indeed from Kaz's rather unique wedding ring Inej got him on her travels. They scour the cemetery for the exact source, silent as the grave once they find the freshly dug ground someone had tried to pack down harder, now sodden with the night's rain as well. Inej is the one to spot the strange pipe coming out of the ground. "He's still alive," she proclaims, and Jesper just hopes she's right about what it means. Inej starts scraping back soil in swathes with her knives, while the rest of them go to locate some metal Jesper can fashion into shovels. The time spent digging up that grave feels like the longest time of Jesper's life. When they pull Kaz - pale and wet and shaking but alive - from the coffin, Jesper is witness to the most public display of affection he's ever seen by Kaz and Inej. Kaz clings to Inej like she's his lifeline to the living, though Kaz is careful once again to not touch any skin. Jesper has to look away, giving them their privacy as best he can, until the moment passes and Inej turns to ask Wylan for the water bottle they brought along.

When Kaz seems a bit more focused, Inej asks “Pekka?” with her voice like a knife. “Pekka,” Kaz confirms sharply, but his eyes taking on a dark far away look, staring past them all in a way that worries Jesper. Inej leaves abruptly, with murder in her eyes, so it falls to Jesper and Wylan to cautiously help Kaz to the carriage. They're careful to keep their touches firmly over Jesper's coat that they help the shivering Kaz into, in case their proximity might trigger him like it used to. They go back to the mansion, setting Kaz up in the guest room they all know is really his anyhow. Kaz is quiet, no smart remarks and no refusal of the help they give, accepting any comfort they can provide him that isn't touch. Wylan brings up a pot of hot, very sugary tea and so much food. The tray placed on the side of the bed is laden with far more than he could possibly eat, but every item is a favourite of Kaz's; foods Kaz would deny caring one jot for but anyone observant enough would know to be true. Jesper waits by his side, wishing he could hug Kaz, however briefly, to feel him solid and safe in his arms, but he doesn't dare ask right now. Being there is hopefully enough. With Jesper watching over him, Kaz sleeps, curled up in the layers of soft, warm blankets they gave him that he'd normally scoff at and turn down.

When Kaz wakes, Jesper's heart skips a beat in anticipation as Kaz reaches out his hand as if to touch him, only for that hope to be dashed as Kaz snatches his hand back suddenly, not able to complete the intended action. Kaz scowls, looking down at the floor. But then he says something that surprises Jesper, “Thank you, Jes.” Kaz's gaze shifts to looking down at the bed covers as he says it, a discomfit evident in the tension of his shoulders and the tight grip of one hand on his other in his lap. “You don't need to thank me, you podge.” Jesper replies, exasperated but fondly said nevertheless. “This is what we do, we look out for one another.” Kaz simply nods and Jesper decides now is a good time to fetch more food and drink, to leave Kaz to his thoughts for a bit.

Inej comes back in the evening, her clothes freshly changed and the scent of the cleaner she uses on her knives trailing in her wake. She only says "It's done" to the room when she appears suddenly, no one needs to ask what. Then she climbs onto the bed with Kaz, prompting Jesper to quickly leave them be. The newspapers the next day don't show the gruesome detail of a man taken to pieces in a depiction of any sort for that would be far too improper, but they spare no words to describe the unexpected downfall of a once barrel boss practically forgotten and by now only remarkable in his manner of death. That morning, when they take up a tray of food and the paper, he sees Kaz smirk, for the first time since they rescued him, at the sight of the headline.

[naturepointstheway]

My 10 Longest Fics on AO3 As of May 30, 2024

So out of curiosity, I went to my AO3 works (username there is HathorAroha, which was my old username before I changed my tumblr url to my current one), and sorted my works by word count, and here's the top 10 longest ones so far in order from biggest:

Of Ghosts and Carols - Beauty and the Beast - G - No Warnings Apply - 39,379 words (multi-chapter) A few days before Christmas one year, Prince Adam, already turned selfish and bitter by his past and by his now-deceased father, is visited by an Enchantress who foretells his visitation by three ghosts who will show him his past, present, and what may be in his future if he does not learn to try to open his heart again to love now that his cruel father is dead.

30 Days of Beauty and the Beast: One Line, Different Character - Beauty and the Beast - T - No Warnings Apply - 33,758 words (multi-chapter, but all just one shots if that makes sense) As the title suggests, thirty one-shots for thirty days where I take a single line from the movie spoken by one character, and give it to someone else, however likely or unlikely. Characters and other tags will be added as each one shot is added day by day. One-shots' lengths vary from tiny drabbles to long ones, and I'll aim to be mostly fluffy/non-angsty. Take note, I said "mostly".

Snowflakes, Witches, and Eternity - Frozen/Snow Queen Crossover - G - No Warnings Apply - 27,767 words (multi-chapter) One afternoon, an unexpected blizzard carries little Anna and Elsa to the Land of Oz. The sisters are separated, with Elsa lured into the Snow Queen's embrace and Anna lost somewhere in Oz. While Elsa stays in the Snow Queen's castle, Anna searches Oz for her beloved sister, whose heart has been turned to ice. Anna must find Elsa before it is too late and she loses her for good.

Beauty and the Fourteen Prompts - Beauty and the Beast - G - No Warnings Apply - 18,535 words (multi-chapter, but a series of one-shots) A collection of my fanfic responses to the 14 writing prompts in @tinydooms' #BATB14fics writing challenge for January 2019 on Tumblr. I am doing it out of order of her list of prompts, going with which ones are inspiring me most first, and leave the rest for later. Even if "later" is two years later! See Chip's excitement over a new writing desk (very grown up indeed!), the village baker's thoughts on Belle's remarks on his job, and more! And that's all my multi-chapters (I tend not to like doing multi-chapters because i get bored way too quickly XD). Now it's ALL one-shots, and of COURSE my first ever explicit fic ends up being the biggest of them all. Why. Why. *shrugs*

Manes, Magic, and Pleasure - Cats the Musical - E - No Warnings Apply - 9400 words - Tuggoffelees (Mistoffelees/Tugger)

Misto gazed up at him with a rapturous, untethered grin full of pure joy, his eyes sparkling like a moonless, clear sky. Beautiful, phenomenal, magical. Tugger couldn’t help but press a kiss on his soft cheek and one more on his temple, paws still interlaced with his."

Just shy of a whole year after the last Jellicle Ball, Tugger discovers one day that Mistoffelees is ready to go farther with their relationship, despite his worries about overwhelming him with the sensations. At the end there is trust, so much trust, and so much love.

6. House and Home and Security - Life is Strange 2 - T - No Warnings Apply - 8193 words Hours after leaving prison behind forever, Sean finds himself at Daniel's new home, a house he can never feel is his, no matter how much Daniel insists it's his home too whenever he needs it. And there is a strange, forgotten feeling both alien and familiar, one he has nearly forgotten over the last fifteen years he had spent in a prison cell. And how is it that Daniel is already so grown up, a young man of twenty-five years?

7. On the Breath of a Storm - Life is Strange - T - Major Character Death - 8011 words - Pricefield (Chloe/Max) - Alternate Timeline "Our" Max, the Max of our timeline, leaves a note behind on the offchance that the alternate timeline with Chloe in a wheelchair will continue without her. Alternate Max "awakes" to the letter, and is forced to face what has happened to Chloe. A storm still approaches the bay, unseen and all warnings from this strange Max not of this world unheeded.

8. And So the Little Wolf Outlived the Big Wolf - Life is Strange 2 - T - No Archive Warnings (read the trigger warnings in the tags though!) - 7923 words - Lone Wolf Ending It is seven years since Sean's death at the border, and the day Daniel has dreaded since then has come: the day he officially outlives his older brother. On the night of Daniel's seventeenth, Sean comes to him in a dream and makes him promise to call someone, anyone, just so he isn't alone anymore.

9. I'm Somewhere, You're Somewhere, I'm Nowhere, You're Nowhere - Life is Strange - T - Major Character Death - 6214 words - Alternate Timeline - Pricefield

Maxine Caulfield wakes up after a night of partying it up and clubbing for her eighteenth birthday to discover a text on her cellphone:

"Max, it’s with a saddened heart I have to tell you Chloe passed away last night, 21st September, at 11:30pm."

She resolves to visit Chloe one more time, like the hypocrite that she is.

10. The Mute and the Maine - Cats the Musical - T - No Archive Warnings apply (read the tags for trigger warnings, however) - 5744 words - Tuggoffelees (Mistoffelees/Tugger)

Troubled by Demeter's words about Mistoffelees, a mute cat mostly outcast by the tribe, Tugger takes it onto himself to have a talk with Misto, and let him know he is not alone. [Originally posted on Tumblr] [Based on Lindsay Chambers' Mistoffelees from the very late '80s/very early '90s in a Zurich production.]

[oldfangirl81]

Fic Idea

spoilers S7 Ep6

Angsty, Hurt/Comfort

Okay this popped in my head as I was trying to fall asleep. During the episode Chim sees Buck from inside the restaurant looking for him. Mom asked if Chim would even know anyone who was calling his name.

Now I'm horrible remembering years but started thinking what characters he's known the longest. I think it would be Tommy.

But it wouldn't be 2024 Tommy he remembers.

So change it that Tommy is searching too. Maybe he finds Chim instead of the Lees. But things get said that drag up the past.

This hits all the things Tommy still carries with him. Like he knows he is changed but seeing Chim look at him as if he is his past version would hurt.

Maybe he even falls back into some unhealthy habits trying to push Buck away. Who won't let that happen. It boils over into a big angst crying scene where Buck reassures him everyone knows he's grown from that other version of him.

Maybe Chim and Tommy have yet another heart to heart on the subject. Including this time a protective talk about dating Buck. Which Chim also gives Buck about dating Tommy.

[aeivyen]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by: @noodyl-blasstal thanks so much for thinking of me! Tagging: @the-barista-district

1. How many works do you have on A03?

I have only the one on AO3, I just started my account there not too long ago

2. What's your total A03 word count?

My wordcount is 78,284! It's one of the longest fics I've written in a long while

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Nowadays it's pretty much TAZ all the way down, but there's some old stuff I have on this blog that's WTNV adjacent and a couple things for The Arcana mobile game (playing in the setting with OCs, as is a preference of mine in general). I haven't locked up the deep archives of Marvel and Ranger's Apprentice and fuckin' Leverage, but I'm not gonna help you find them either

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

The only one I have on AO3 is Virtue and Vice, but the most popular fic I can find on here is Firelight and Beach Nights 1 & 2

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I love to respond to comments when I get them! I find them very encouraging and I will talk your ear off (or type your eyes off? is that a good perversion of that phrase? lol) about my Thoughts if you let me

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't know that I really have any with angsty endings? Most of my angsty ones are the ones I wrote alongside my rp with @the-barista-district as tie on/lead ins to that storyline

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

Virtue and Vice has an ending that I'm really proud of, I feel like I managed to go full-circle on their story and end with a lot of potential and hope for the future. It's a story that became about growing up and choosing your family and who you want to be, and I lived in it for a year.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I have not and would cry (then delete the comment, bc fuck'em) if I did

9. Do you write smut?

I have written smut, yes. The stuff that's publicly posted is not my best (many years old now) and I won't link it, but it's all appropriately tagged #fanfic and #nsfw if you want to go searching (why?)

10. Do you write crossovers?

It has never occurred to me to do so. I'm generally more comfortable doing OC insert fic (with the exception of some TAZ stuff. Rping has helped me to figure out Kravitz so I'll write him sometimes) and I wouldn't know how to go about a crossover in that sort of niche

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I'm aware

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

*shakes magic 8 ball* Signs point to no

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

I haven't, but I've rped a bunch and I feel like that's similar in some aspects I guess. Just, yanno, not really a finished fic out of it

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Taakitz is the one I gravitate towards, though I can also be persuaded by a Taagnus and a Blupjeans

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I've got a Taakitz fic on the back burner where Krav is a ghost but there's a time-recursion aspect and he thinks he's the one being haunted for a bit. I'd like to finish that but my brain has decided I'm doing something else (it's a fun something else)(still debating if I'll post)

16. What are your writing strengths?

I enjoy the characters and relationships that I build. Some are stronger than others, but I feel like I can generally get to a point where they're believable, and different dynamics can shine through. I love to get bogged down in the "where's the difference between what they're willing to say/do, and what they're actually trying to communicate", "how do they feel and how do they think they feel"

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I have to agree with Noodyl here and say that tense is hard, POV is difficult (staying as close as I want the narration to feel is the part that gets me more than head-hopping). Getting into established characters is especially difficult (hense, OCs)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I think it can be cool and have considered many times adding Spanish to things, pero no hablo ni escribo mucho en español (heh)

19. First fandom you wrote for?

One of my earliest is from the Ranger's Apprentice by John Flanagan, hidden deep in the archives of redacted where I shall not link the general public

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

There's been a lot of stories I love and a lot I've lived in over the years, even from the before tumblr times. Especially from those times. I'm just going to say Virtue and Vice again bc it's recent and I love it and I'm not linking to anything from my teenage years bc yeeesh

[applejee]

I posted 17,813 times in 2022

That's 80 more posts than 2021!

151 posts created (1%)

17,662 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@celeryw

@pishposhbagosh

@blas-ph-emy

@lemontongues

@ officialspec

I tagged 3,777 of my posts in 2022

#dc - 1,160 posts

#batfam - 683 posts

#just us - 204 posts

#csm - 180 posts

#sandman - 178 posts

#q - 143 posts

#batman - 132 posts

#timkon - 104 posts

#cute - 103 posts

#goncharov - 94 posts

Longest Tag: 118 characters

#burning the receipt so you can keep the kid you were handed for a weekend who is painfully cute and a cool little dude

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

who’s ready for

See the full post

68 notes - Posted December 6, 2022

#4

Hi! Any recs for timkon, or kon centric fics? It only tends to be in the background/implied in batfam centric fics that i read, but i keep seeing you post about timkon and 🥺🥰 I’m catching feelings about it

i’ll be real... im glad u asked bc i read So much timkon ♥ sorting by kudos for timkon is hard bc yeah... its so often background..... kon deserves better!!!!!! so here are some stories u should definitely read, by some lovely authors whose works i am absolutely normal about:

- everything by @batfam-chaos​ especially this one. kon is injured and tim panics my beloved... their stuff is *chefs kiss*

- everything by @lemontongues​ especially this one! slowburn in kansas.... their 2021 whumptober is very kon-centric as well!

- everything by @mindshelter​, this one in particular makes me CRAAAZY

- composed of us by @starlikeknight​ which so far is tim centric BUT itll be eventual timkon and its already amazing so you know the timkon will be too

here are some others i like, found in my bookmarks:

- Gonna Be A Better One (A Thousand Miles To Your Door) by Traincat

- Leap, Fall, Fly by malcyon

- A Night In by Musafir

- Three Little Words by timkons

- please don't live in fear by murmurare

- time flies by by Laroyena

- shenanigans’ timkon my beloved

sadly, i read less kon-centric fic simply cause i am so obsessed with tim my little guy, my poor little meow meow, but again there is good stuff out there. u may have to search excluding timkon on ao3. REGARDLESS,

this is everything i can find off the top of my head, really. trust me theres so much more out there i adore (like the pretending to be a gold digger wip, or the catfishing fic, or the hannah montana-style identity shenanigans fic, or this one astolat fic, or the one where dick picks up kon as a cop and tim on the phone asks if he’s cute, or any of the countless other stories out there) so definitely go and have a search!! yeehaw!!!!! hope that helps!

96 notes - Posted January 22, 2022

#3

omg omg i just BLEW through your dc fics (showstopping. incredible. magnificent) and AH TIM and was wondering do you have any Tim-centric fic recs? with that GOOD angst? no pressure or anything, thanks for all your hard work 💕💕💕💕💕

omg anon 😳😳😳😳 thank you im so glad to hear it <3

also FYCK YES IM HERE TO GIVE OUT ANGSTY TIM FICS. first and foremost u should probably jsut go thru my entire bookmark tag with tim drake but i will pick and choose the best for u here, i hopeu enjoy.

also fair warning all these may include, to some degree, violence, torture, child abuse, implied or referenced non con, etc, due to the fact these are very angsty and filled with hurt and comfort and lots of whump, so pls read the tags!

A Meditation on Railroading by eggmacguffin

this one is the best. i love it. @eggmacguffin blew it out of the PARK with this once ive reread it an absurd amount of times. tim's dad leaves him in atlanta so he makes his own way home, runs into jason, and shit happens. also, read ALL their other tim fic ok. u wont regret.

buried birds by envysparkler

have i told you to read everything by envysparkler? read everything by envysparkler. her shit is the BEST. buried birds is one of my faves, as tim is buried alive in a coffin and jason rescues him. luv it

Grilled Cheese by crumpetz

hooooooo 8k of pure tear inducing deliciousness. i reread this constantly for the catharsis. makes me cry everytime. cw for graphic injury

Echoes of You by SilverSkiesAtMidnight

wherein tim dies, is resurrected, and jason is the one to find him fresh out the grave. trauma times two electric boogaloo! check out their current wip and recent works as well!

best laid plans by Valkirin

ra's steals tim away at the same time as jason, freshly unearthed from his grave. Shit Happens. LOVE valkirin’s stuff

The Return by lurkinglurkerwholurks

essential reading. what happens after batman's brought back out of time. read all their other tim fic if u havent yet

It's Not That Funny by Ionaperidot

tim becomes joker junior! uh oh! tim's brain is scrambled by the joker and ra's and he and jason maybe become serial killers and highly codependant but they slowly heal and rejoin the family. so good. cw for graphc violence and so much more, check the tags

On the Way Home by ignesfatuis

little wolf shifter tim is kidnapped, then rescued, and stays with the waynes to heal while he cant shift back. chicken soup for the soul

Fussing Over Scars by maychorian

platonic soulmate au! i cried. check out all of maychorians stuff for more tim angst!!

Dangerous and Noble Things by destiny919    

tim is kidnapped by ra’s, and four years later the bats rescue him, and whaddaya know! he comes with a sister <3 love it. they have a bunch of other tim fic too!

more behind the cut!!

now theres a ghost in the back of this room by CosmoKid

tim helps an abused kid and comes to some Revelations of his own

whumptober 2021 by CosmoKid

just read all of it. chefs kiss. cosmokid has a lot of angsty tim fics and u should read them all

Bristol Kids by Anonymous

See the full post

109 notes - Posted January 30, 2022

#2

reminded seeing the collection of the batfam fic survey i voted in (which is fun and exciting, ill be checking some of those out later!!!!!) of some of the batshit collections people have requested my works be added to.

straight up some of you need to just use the bookmark function because it is beyond offensive to have your fic added to a collection titled “dumb bullshit to satiate my escapism”. like, really? obviously i rejected that one, and ive rejected a few others just because. that’s not what collections are for.

do people forget collections are public? do people forget that you see a list of collections a work is in directly under the tags? i’m honoured to accept my works into collections titled “fics i love”; “fics i’ll reread until the end of time”; “fics with good stephanie characterisation”—these are compliments, and things like “robin vs red hood” collect specific tropes and AUs together that ao3 may not have the tags for yet. they serve a function

i dunno, i think collection use has got a bit out of hand. im complaining on main because this keeps happening and at one extreme it’s offensive (dumb bullshit??) and at the other extreme there already exists a function for tracking it (“fics i have read”?)

respectfully, i think some people may benefit from bookmarks and bookmark tags. for one, you can tag nigh limitlessly, and search them on your bookmarks page using both the tags and the notes. also, most importantly, you can make them private. want to leave a note for yourself as to why you didn’t fully enjoy a fic? remind yourself of something that triggered you? want to simply keep track of a fic you didn’t enjoy as much as others? private bookmark, and the author never has to know.

this is a little bit of a rant but when i have rejected my works being added to collections multiple times it adds up, lol.

202 notes - Posted September 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

since i cannot find the masterpost i initially used to obtain all these extensions initially, here’s a list of privacy extensions i use in conjunction with firefox! i’ve included a link to each of them which is very easy if you use firefox. pls use firefox. brave is also good for privacy. there are others out there so do your research, and again, please for the love of god, switch from chrome if you can xx

–

Bypass Paywalls Clean - bypasses paywalls. v helpful. this one isn’t verified by firefox however

Decentraleyes - this helps to prevent websites from tracking you and blocks requests

Don’t track me google - stops google from lengthening urls theycan track you with. godsend

DuckDuckGo Privacy Essentials - blocks tracking, enables https where possible, overall a good and helpful extension

Facebook Container - isolates facebook in its own container so its much harder for them to track you. always a bonus

HTTPS Everywhere - does what it says!

Privacy Badger - blocks trackers, similar to some of the others listed. can never have too many

Shinigami eyes - if you dont have this enabled wyd? marks trans friendly accounts as green and transphobic ones as red, or other colours based on your preference. makes blocking very quick and easy! not verified by firefox, but just as essential as the rest

uBlock Origin - basically an ad blocker, the best of the bunch; also prevents a lot of tracking and coin miners too

–

if you have any privacy extensions you use or find useful, feel free to reblog with your own suggestions!

248 notes - Posted January 18, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[yoonieper]

I posted 55 times in 2022

39 posts created (71%)

16 posts reblogged (29%)

I tagged 46 of my posts in 2022

Only 16% of my posts had no tags

#yoonieper updates - 19 posts

#bts - 14 posts

#bts smut - 13 posts

#bts fluff - 13 posts

#bts scenarios - 13 posts

#bts imagines - 13 posts

#bts fanfic - 13 posts

#bts angst - 10 posts

#bangtan sonyeondan - 9 posts

#bts fan fiction - 8 posts

Longest Tag: 32 characters

#please ignore everything you see

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Daydream | KNJ

One man’s daydreaming is another man’s day.

✿ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

✿ Genre: smut, angst, a tiny bit of fluff, pretty much pwp 

✿ Rated: M for More 

✿ Warnings: A little spice over the phone, handjob, oral (f. receiving), little bit of spanking, this is a tad bit emotional

✿ Word Count: 5.6k 

✿ Summary: It’s late and he has work to do, but for some reason he can only think about you. He misses you so much and after so long, maybe it’s time to pay you a visit?

✿ Author’s Note: Fun fact, this is based off a dream I had a while ago. The part that mattered only lasted for like a second and the rest of the dream was nonsense but ayy I got a fic out of it~ This was supposed to be posted a year ago, I’m so behind omg 🤡… In reconciliation, I will let y’all know that there mayyyy be a part 2, but not in the way you expect so keep an eye out :3

No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much :D

See the full post

281 notes - Posted June 13, 2022

#4

His Majesty | KNJ

Come and serve your King.

・❥・ Pairing: King!Namjoon x Maid!Reader

・❥・ Genre: smut, angst, a tiny bit of fluff

・❥・ Rated: B for Bow 

・❥・ Warnings: cheating, oral (m+f receiving), clothes are ripped, bondage, spanking, exhibitionism, unprotected sex (this the past, but not you <3), joon’s a little too hot in this one, get your fans ready

・❥・ Word Count: 9.6k

・❥・ Summary: His majesty was always fond of you. Little glances here, longing touches there, it was obvious something was going on. When the Queen left the kingdom for a little while, it was finally time. He could finally have you the way he wanted. 

・❥・ Collab: This is part of @erotikkook Kingdom collab! My first collab piece, yay! Thank you so much Levi for finally giving me a reason to write this lol! Please check out the other stories as well! 

・❥・ Now Playing: Earned It by The Weeknd

・❥・ Beta: @xxxanimangxxx thank you so much for reading this so quickly 😭 

・❥・ Author’s Note: HA! I’m back already (hehehehe)~ This was meant to be posted for Joonie’s bday, but things happened… Anyway, fun fact, I got this idea when me and my sister were discussing frozen fanfiction, in particular a very snacky older Hans brother. I owe a lot of these ideas to my sister so shout out to her who helped me come up with this 😩✊🏽 I hope to post a less angsty Joon fic in the near future *hint hint wink wink something might be in the works* :,) Anyway enjoy this y’all ;)

No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much :D

See the full post

985 notes - Posted November 5, 2022

#3

Snow Blanket | MYG

The warmest place is in your arms.

❅ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

❅ Genre: friends to lovers, fluff, smut

❅ Rated: C for Cozy 

❅ Warnings: Yoongi is a cutie boy in luv, y/n is deep in her feels as well, very fluffy, yoongi’s a little subby, handjob, oral (m + f receiving), a little hair pulling, unprotected sex (don’t even think about it <3)  

❅ Word Count: 9.5k

❅ Prompt: “Snowed in and huddled for warmth.” 

❅ Summary: Yoongi decided to join you on your ski trip and as a snow storm starts moving in, you retreat back to your cabin, only to find out the heater’s broken. With the storm blowing over and the temperatures beginning to plummet, it only makes sense to search for warmth in every possible way. 

❅ Thank you: Thank you so much @jamaisjoons once again for the banner~

❅ Now Playing: Sweet by Cigarettes After Sex 

❅ Author’s Note: Another one that was part of an event that was meant to be posted a year ago~ Didn’t get to edit this as much as I wanted to, but please enjoy this softness, this literally melted my heart tryna write this so I hope you guys like it! I love Yoongi so much y’all don’t even understand 🥲

No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much :D

See the full post

991 notes - Posted December 2, 2022

#2

Chronicles of My Witchy GF | JJK

We made our own magic.

✵ Pairing: Jungkook x witch!Reader 

✵ Genre: fluff, smut, crack

✵ Rated: W for Which Witch?

✵ Warnings: little bit of weed smoking, lots of cheesy lines (babies in love), Jungkook accidentally eats something he shouldn’t (twice), lots of crying (in the good way), this shit gets nasty, mentions of food play, masturbation (m), dry humping, thigh fucking(?), pillow fucking, tiny bit of breed kink (it’ll make sense later lol), accidental facial, oral (m + f recieving), throat fucking, face sitting, lots of cum (a lot!), unprotected sex (be smart y’all <;3)

✵ Word Count: 31.8k (get snacks :’D)

✵ Summary: Just Jungkook and a few cute tales about his witchy girlfriend~

✵ Now Playing…: Freaky Deaky by Tyga & Doja Cat, Lay it Down by Steelix, Under the Influence by Chris Brown 

✵ Betas: Thank you so much to the amazing @jessikahathaway and @xxxanimangxxx for looking over this monster fic so quickly <;3!

✵ Author’s Note: This fic is so unserious yall, I don’t know how I ended up writing this 😭 I had plans for a Jimin fic, but I started this hoping to get it done quickly, but this turned out a lot longer than I thought it would be :’) Anyway, I thought I would experiment a little with this type of formatting for this fic~ Hope y’all enjoy, and Happy Halloween! This couple is so cute and has so much drabble potential (I got ideas~)! P.S. Made the banner myself and I’m tryna get better, hope y’all like 😅

No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much :D

See the full post

2,008 notes - Posted October 31, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Helping Hand | JJK

Sometimes all you need is a helping hand.

♡ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (also a teeny bit of Jimin x Reader)

♡ Genre: Roommate AU, Best Friend AU, Best Friends to lovers, Smut, Fluff, Angst???? 

♡ Rated: D for Down Bad 

♡ Warnings: Lotte concert 2019 Jungkook, PTD concert black swan Jimin (yes these are warnings), Y/N needs some dick, jk is also pretty down bad, mentions of past substance abuse, mentions of depression, mentions of character death, very brief and vague mentions of su*cidal thoughts, this fic is heavy and horny please beware, jk a lil bit of a dummy, masturbation, semi public sex(ish), grinding, car sex, cumming in pants, fingering, oral (m + f receiving), overstimulation, protected sex (follow they lead kiddies), gets cute towards the end I promise~ 

♡ Word Count: 23.4k

♡ Summary: A double blind date was your suggestion. Everything about it should make him happy, but this sinking feeling just won’t go away. All he wanted was to get it over with. 

♡ Now Playing…: X by Tinashe, Backseat by Khalid, and Good Days by Sza 

♡ Author’s Note: A story from the vault of the 2020 works I started but never published! This was meant to be posted on Valentine's Day, but life got in the way so I’m just posting it now instead of keeping it for another year. Let’s just pretend 🤡 Happy Valentine’s Day to all the couples out there, and for all my singles, we’ll get ‘em next year 😩✊🏽 Also a big thank you to @kth1 for the graphics and @jessikahathaway for reading over this for me! 

No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much :D

See the full post

4,324 notes - Posted June 7, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[jackluvsdaniel]

I posted 2,540 times in 2022

That's 2,540 more posts than 2021!

294 posts created (12%)

2,246 posts reblogged (88%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@monsterrae1

@loveyourownsmiilee

@lostinabuddiehaze

@eddiediaaz

@spotsandsocks

I tagged 2,191 of my posts in 2022

Only 14% of my posts had no tags

#buddie - 821 posts

#eddie diaz - 353 posts

#evan buckley - 308 posts

#all queued up - 270 posts

#911 spoilers - 178 posts

#fic rec - 155 posts

#buddie wip - 123 posts

#buddie fic - 122 posts

#oliver stark - 94 posts

#seven sentence sunday - 84 posts

Longest Tag: 101 characters

#no ma'am i cannot use my phone to tell your phone to email me a file that is located on your computer

I sent 1 gift in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

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122 notes - Posted July 28, 2022

#4

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140 notes - Posted August 25, 2022

#3

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176 notes - Posted August 11, 2022

#2

Not speculation exactly, but definitely spoilers for 6x04

Your Heart is the Softest Place | Buddie | 1.5k | ao3

Eddie is wiping down the counters and debating the wisdom of another beer before bed when his phone chimes with a new text from Karen. 

Karen: Came home to my wife and your man drunk and maudlin at my dining room table.  

Eddie rolls his eyes. Karen was fully on board the Buck and Eddie train and wasted no opportunity to poke and nudge at Eddie in the hopes that he’ll finally give in and do something about his “angsty, epic schoolboy crush.” Personally, Eddie thinks she’s just hoping for better gossip on their wine nights. 

Eddie: What’s going on? 

Karen: I have no idea. Buck was mumbling about fathers? I’m too tired to deal with two of them, Eddie. I poured Buck into an Uber and sent him to you. 

Eddie: Ha, thanks for that! I’ll handle Buck. Good luck with Hen. 

Karen: 😠 

He snorts and slides his phone back into his pocket. Grabbing Buck’s favorite turtle mug from the cabinet, he gets the kettle going and grabs the peach ginger tea Buck has them all obsessed with. It’s definitely too late for coffee and obviously Buck doesn’t need a beer, but something warm and soothing before bed can’t hurt. 

Eddie knows Buck has been struggling. Everyone at the station can see it and most of them think he's having a hard time with losing Lev. He is, but Eddie knows that’s only part of it. Buck has been floundering for months, but he’s not talking to Eddie about it. If he’s drinking it out with Hen, maybe he’s ready to share what’s going on in his head. 

He hears keys scratching at the lock and hurries to open the door. He can’t help the grin when he opens the door to a disgruntled Buck, glaring moodily at the keys in his hand. 

“Hey Buck.” 

Buck raises his head and Eddie’s breath catches. Buck’s eyes are red rimmed and sad. Karen said they were maudlin, but that’s so unlike typical drunk Buck that Eddie is shocked to see it. 

He reaches out and wraps a hand around Buck’s, pulling him into the apartment. He leads him right into the kitchen and nudges him towards the table while he gets a cup of tea ready. Buck stays silent he whole time, ramping up Eddie’s worry. He places the mug down in front of Buck and sits. 

“Buck,” he says, unsure of how to start but stops when Buck grimaces and won’t meet his eyes. 

“I can’t be a father. Hen’s right,” he mumbles, reaching for the tea.  

Eddie sucked in a sharp breath and grabbed Buck’s reaching hand. He kept his grip strong and hoped it was comforting Buck. 

“What the hell are you talking about? Why would Hen say that?” 

Buck’s eyes widen and he shakes his head. “No, not...I said that wrong, but...” 

“But what, Buck,” he asks. “Because from where I’m sitting, you’re a great father.” 

Buck’s head snaps up, searching Eddie’s eyes. Eddie sits calmly and waits, letting Buck see exactly how serious he is about this. With a quiet sigh, Buck drops his eyes and pulls his hand away to grab his mug. 

“I met with my friend today. The one I was telling you about?” Eddie nods and stands to make himself some tea and give Buck some space work through his thoughts. 

“He and his wife, they’ve been trying to have a baby and it’s just not happening for them.”  

Buck takes a deep, shuddering breath and everything just spills out. All of the soul searching he’s been doing. The self-help books and saying yes to opportunities and searching – he’s always searching for something. He explains the favor – sperm donation – and how he ran to Hen for advice. 

“God Eddie, I want to help them. I do. But Hen’s right...I’ll have to walk away and how can I do that? Can I see that kid grow up and know they’re not really mine...and just let go? But it’s an opportunity, right? And it would make them so happy.” 

And Eddie...Eddie is panicking. He’s leaning on the counter for support and trying to breathe but his mind is spinning. Because how can he ask Buck not to do this? This amazing, generous gift he could be giving these people - if he really wants to do it, can Eddie even try to talk him out of it? Does he have any right to have an opinion here? 

The thing is, Eddie knows Buck. He understands the heart of him in the most knowing and intimate way a person can. And he knows this will destroy Buck. If he gives them a child and walks away, he’ll never be able to live with himself. 

Buying some time, he grabs his tea and moves toward the doorway. “Come on,” he says, nodding his head towards the living room. “Let’s get comfortable and talk about all of that. You’ve been holding back for a while, huh?” 

“I guess,” Buck says unhappily as he follows, dropping down to sit in the center of the couch, leaving Eddie pressed close when he sits next to him. Eddie has no objection to that and presses their shoulders together in support. 

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184 notes - Posted October 10, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

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434 notes - Posted July 27, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[assaily]

I posted 3,173 times in 2022

That's 2,185 more posts than 2021!

25 posts created (1%)

3,148 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@sharkneto

@non-plutonian-druid

@big-tees-and-short-skirts

@kdangerfblog

@ancientstone

I tagged 1,548 of my posts in 2022

#tua - 840 posts

#tua s3 - 206 posts

#the umbrella academy - 160 posts

#five hargreeves - 129 posts

#tua art - 98 posts

#art - 79 posts

#tua s3 spoilers - 56 posts

#tua fic - 42 posts

#shark fic - 31 posts

#pluto art - 31 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#you guys forced the capitalist machine to move in such a way as to provide better and more affordable accommodations to autistic and nd ppl

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Five raised his glass to the rafters. “I’m home,” he said simply. “I’d like to take the time to enjoy that, y’know.”

Diego watched him pour another drink, suddenly understanding him. He’d been gone a long time, lost in a really terrible place that probably never felt like home unless he could somehow forget he was the last soul on Earth. ‘Home’ meant a lot to him.

When Five’s glass was ready again, Diego raised his own, still half-full. “To being home,” he said.

That earned him a smile, a real one that managed to soothe the crease in Five’s brow and make him look so incredibly young in its sincerity, and so incredibly old in its deep gratitude. He raised his glass and clinked it against Diego’s. “To finally being home.”

~-~

Or; Five gets kidnapped and it goes wrong (for the kidnapper).

Oh hey look something new. :)

43 notes - Posted November 9, 2022

#4

Five is now a permanent resident of the Hotel Oblivion.

The rooms are crap and the service is definitely sub-par, but at least his siblings are safe, right?

-

Guys it’s the secret HOb fic that’s been rolling around in my head for a year. Heed the tags, Five angst and whump ahoy!

65 notes - Posted April 9, 2022

#3

Hey! I hope your day has been going well!! I was just wondering if you have any recommendations for whump/angsty five hargreeves fics?

I do have a few suggestions from my never ending search for good five fics. Mostly these are just my bookmarks from the last few months.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40268679/chapters/102041718 by @clementineofmine is very good so far, the whump is quietly lurking in background and occasionally reminds you it's there with little jabs to the face. Good stuff.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40331880 this one is nearly the same vein but I adore it. Simple oneshot, very good, don't know the author's tumblr sorry.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39036603 more a domestic fluff and hurt/comfort but very good. The horror thinks five is neat, the fic.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38427829/chapters/96037309 I don't think I've gotten around to finishing this one myself, but the chapters I read were fantastic. Five attacks his siblings and they almost die, and Five almost dies from the guilt.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36352795/chapters/90631132 this one is. So Good. So good I got distracted and just spent the last half hour reading the last chapter again bc damn. Good angst, good whump, good family dynamics, Five is fuckin losing it in this one and it's great.

Quick fire of things I've been reading lately (heed tags):

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38498392/chapters/96219220

https://archiveofourown.org/series/2241834

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40560738/chapters/101618292 which I'm not giving enough credit here, this one is actually really good too

Of course there's also @sharkneto and his amazing fics and @jbd302020 who writes excellent whump and angst as well.

70 notes - Posted August 5, 2022

#2

Five was a surprisingly functional person when he was under a world of stress. Take that away from him, however, and all of his little malfunctions came popping out of the woodwork like termites, eating away beneath the façade. For all the bitching he did about being an adult, he was very much still a child

-

I wanted to write about apocalypse habits, but it turned into Luther and Five fluff. I regret nothing, please enjoy the fruits of my labor. :) <3

81 notes - Posted April 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Ooooooo....a prompt ask....let me see if you wanna try this one?

"I wish you would write a fic where Diego tells Five, "Don't move. For the love of God, Five, please, do not move."

😂

For you, i give you fluff!

-

Five’s nap had turned a bit too warm for him a while ago, but he was too comfortable to do more than shift his arms to find the cooler, open air.

“Don’t move,” Diego said, sounding entirely unalarmed despite how quickly his warning came. The command was almost gentle, his voice low and nearly affectionate, filled with a quiet, gleeful mirth that made Five peel his eyes open despite how gritty they felt. He’d only been asleep for maybe an hour and a half.

It had taken so much to find sleep in the first place, he almost wanted to rage at being woken up again.

The sun had set since Five had fallen asleep, the tv behind Diego stuck on an endless dvd intro loop, the movie having ended some while ago and no one had turned it off. Five squinted at it, trying to remember when he’d fallen asleep. He and Luther had started some high-concept space flick that, while interesting enough to keep Five’s attention, had been tediously long. The last few weeks of sleepless nights caught him hard and fast, and Luther’s warm, solid body had lulled him into a sense of safety like nothing else seemed capable of.

Diego was standing between him and the tv with something small and boxy in his hands. It made a loud mechanical click that took Five an extra long second to place the nature of.

“What are you doing?” He hissed, already knowing the answer.

 He could see Diego’s teeth flash in a grin, the rest of his expression still hidden in the dim light “For the love of God, Five. Please, do not move.”

Luther snorted in his sleep, his bulk shifting like an earthquake next to Five. One of his arms was draped heavily around Five’s shoulder, and as Luther roused, it curled and tightened over his stomach. Luther sleepily squeezed Five flush against his side, sighing as he woke fully. “What?” he croaked.

Five’s mind had decided to fuck off for the duration of him being squeezed like a teddy bear, the shock and rush of the touch and pressure just enought to stave off the indignity. Five had the time to silently acknowledge that this was weirdly pleasant before the humiliation of it caught up.

The shutter on the camera clicked again, from somewhere in the darkness to the left of the TV, Five could hear Klaus snicker. That was where he drew the line, head snapping to the sound of his brother’s laughter.

“Oh shit!” Klaus laughed, guffawing loudly as Five appeared in front of Diego in a flash.

Diego tried to save the camera, he really did. Five had to give him credit for the effort. By the time he got his hands on it, they were both winded from the tussle, Diego begging for mercy as Five smashed the thing all in one go.

Klaus was on the floor nearby, wheezing with laughter. Luther kept trying to ask him what was happening; Five suspected he probably wasn’t going to get an answer.

“Come on, Five, that was my nice camera!”

“Serves you right,” he replied, then looked back at Luther. “I fell asleep at the ice planet, can we restart there?”

Luther blinked at him, shocked into silence for some reason. Diego shifted his shoulder so he could look up to Five from where he’d been pinned. (Absently, Five was aware that he wasn’t really pinning Diego, so much as he’d pinned him long enough to get the camera and Diego let him stay perched on his back after the fact.)

“You– You want to keep watching?”

Five shrugged, sliding off Diego and porting himself back to his place on the couch. “The plot line about love transcending time and space,” he waved his hand to illustrate the vagueness of his interest. “I’d like to see how they finish that.”

A lamp near Klaus flicked on, basking the room in warm light. Twilight had settled outside, and no one else had been through to turn the lights on. “What’re we watching?” Klaus asked, tripping his way around the coffee table to flop himself next to Five on the couch. His arm fell over the back of the couch and Five fought to keep his body from going as stiff as cardboard at being abruptly boxed in.

“If it’s the movie I think it is,” Diego said, giving Luther a look Five didn’t understand. “Then it’s too smart for you, Klaus.”

Klaus scoffed at him. “I’m not here to be entertained, Diego. I’m here to fall asleep watching some stuffy movie with my stuffy brothers.”

“We’re watching Interstellar,” Luther answered flatly. “It’s my favorite movie.”

“Oh of course it is, you big nerd.” Klaus reached over to pat Luther's shoulder. 

See the full post

196 notes - Posted May 14, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[ramzawrites]

requesting an angsty fic where reader is schlatts kid and they have the same features as him, namely the horns so people avoid them because of what schlatt did, it leads to reader hating their horns and cutting them off/ ripping them out and someone finds them crying, covered in blood with their horns just on the ground or smth, set after schlatts death btw

A Painful Reminder - Dad!Schlatt and Reader - Part 1

Part 2

GN

Pairings: none

Characters included: Quackity, Niki, (mentioned) Schlatt, (mentioned) Techno

Warnings: self harm (destroying own horns with a blunt object), mention of blood, abondenment, depression, cursing

Series: an angst request!

Summary: Y/N is the child of Schlatt and after his death tried their best to deal with the grief. Hoping to connect with people only to painfully realize that their horns are a painful reminder to everyone for Schlatt’s rule and therefore try to stay as far as possible from them.

Words count: 2428

Authors Note: I hope this is fine! I struggled a bit with it and I think you can tell, I apologize for that. I’m honestly not that good with angst but if you enjoy it I’m happy!! Please give me feedback on how to get better at angst :o

I love you guys and please take care of yourself 💙

After Schlatt died and Pogtopia effectively won the war against Manberg only for the nation to get blown up by Wilbur, the people tried their best to rebuild with the help of Tubbo as the new president.

There was a new sense of hope that swept through the nation. They all suffered greatly to get to this place but this was a turning point for most. A time for healing. A time for rebuilding what was lost. A time for grief.

While Y/N spent most of their time building up their own home inside L’Manberg, they were struggling a lot with grief.

They mourned for the loss of the only parent they had in their life, Schlatt.

The president of Manburg, the tyrant that died surrounded by his enemies inside a van. The only parent of Y/N.

The relationship between the two was complicated to say the least. Deep inside they still loved their father but he brought so much pain and even bloodshed on people that they couldn’t in good conscience support him.

For the longest time they tried their best trying to persuade him, that he would change his way but he never listened. Either too full with his own ego or too drunk to care. The last straw that broke the camel’s back for Y/N was when Schlatt ordered Tubbo’s execution.

The emotions they felt while they yelled and wailed at Schlatt to stop this madness was still fresh in their mind whenever their thoughts lingered back to that day. Quackity had to  physically restrain and pull them back on Schlatt’s orders.

It was the moment they realized that there was no way for them to reach Schlatt anymore. He was set in his way and nothing could change that.

After their death to Technoblade’s blood lust during the festival, they ran away and spoke with Tommy. Y/N didn’t want to kill Schlatt but they saw in Pogtopia a chance to stop him. Make him see what he has done. Make him responsible for his actions.

Only this never came to pass. Schlatt died inside a dirty van. A heart attack or a stroke. Y/N didn’t know, nor did they care. He was dead either way.

While everyone was rebuilding and trying to fall back into a normal day to day life. Y/N was lost. They didn’t feel particularly close to anyone nor did the other seem to trust them. Their eyes were always drawn towards Y/N’s horns resting on their head.

During Schlatt’s rule they became somewhat of a symbol. A symbol for himself, for pain, for blood, for tyranny. So when Y/N walked around town the others couldn’t help but stare at these oh so similar horns that reminded them of a past best forgotten.

It made Y/N unsure of themself. It was a physical proof of their connection to their father. It was a double edged sword. In the past they loved that they inherited similar Hybrid traits like their father but now it was the reason why everyone seemed to avoid them.

The people wanted to move on but these damn horns pulled them back whenever their eyes fell on them. Y/N wasn’t stupid. They noticed this pretty fast.

Hell, if anything the funeral was the best proof for that. Bad tried his best to keep everyone under control and have a proper funeral but everyone was too busy celebrating. Talking about stealing his bones. Destroying a picture of him.

All while Y/N sat in the back. They had hoped they could use this funeral as a way to finally say goodbye, let go off the pain and regret but all this chaos just made them realize that the people will never properly accept them due to their relation with Schlatt.

Schlatt may have put all of the people through a horrible and unforgivable time but he effectively snuffed out any chance for Y/N to live a normal life between these people. This legacy of his for Y/N stung almost deeper than all the time he insulted them or flat out ignored them. It made them wonder if he ever realized what he did to his own child. Even if he did Y/N wasn’t sure he cared enough to do anything about it.

Y/N wrung their hands as they stood in front of Niki’s and Puffy’s flower shop. The money ready in their hands so this transaction could happen faster but even so they were too nervous to step in.

After some mental pep talk they finally slowly pushed the wooden door open. To their horror it begun creaking which made them wince. There was no way Niki hasn’t noticed them walking in seeing how she stood at the counter but still Y/N didn’t want to put more attention on themself than they absolutely had to.

“Oh.” Was all Niki said. She almost sounded disappointed. Y/N realized that she probably would have happily greeted anyone else coming into the shop but them.

Their eyes were glued to the ground. As they suddenly became overly aware of their horns, it felt like their weight increased immensely. Almost as if they tried to press down on Y/N. It made them feel as small and worthless as possible under the gaze of other people.

Y/N put the money on the counter as soon as they reached it “A full bouquet of purple hyacinth, please.”

“Alright.” Niki immediately moved away in order to make the bouquet ready. Though Y/N didn’t watch, they were now staring at the wood of the counter. Following he natural lines of it with their eyes as they patiently waited.

After a few minutes Niki placed the flowers in front of Y/N which pulled them out of their thoughts and made them look up. Niki forced a smile on but she still looked almost stern. Soft crevices building up as her eyebrows formed a painful frown.

“This is too much.” Niki begun pushing some of the money back towards Y/N but they shook their head.

“It’s a tip.”

Picking the flowers up into their arms they tried to put on a genuine smile before turning around to walk out of the shop.

Before they exited the shop they could hear Niki say a soft “Thanks.”

That was basically how every conversation with anyone went. Only short and the most necessary words. At first Y/N tried to start genuine conversation but they soon noticed how the others wouldn’t react. Just trying to get as fast as possible through this conversation. Their eyes always directed on Y/N’s horns.

After Y/N placed the flowers in front of Schlatt’s grave, like they did every week, they made their way towards the river.

Sometimes they would spend their time there since it’s a bit farther away from the city, so it was rare to see someone else hanging out there. Y/N mostly used this place to fish in peace. If they fished anywhere near the others their stares and frowns weighed too heavy down on them.

As they sat at the bank of the river, preparing their fishing line, their eyes fell unto their own reflection.

Dark circles adorned their eyes from their countless restless nights. Only falling asleep after hours of crying.

They couldn’t help but put the blame on their horns. Their god damn horns. Y/N hated them. Hated them so much. What would their life be like without them? Would the others still eye them so incredibly cautiously? Would they give Y/N a chance? After all Y/N was vocal about the fact that they didn’t support any of Schlatt’s decisions. For the longest time they tried to help the others through the hard times!

Yet, now as he was dead, they only showed Y/N the cold shoulder. If it wasn’t Y/N themself then the reason has to entirely lay on the horns. It was a too strong reminder of Schlatt.

A sob escaped Y/N’s lips. Tears now falling down their cheeks onto the green grass. No one was around so they didn’t mind crying loudly like this.

It was just so unfair. They did everything they could and yet all they reaped was disdain from the people and in a sick twist Y/N couldn’t even fault them for it. Whenever they saw their own reflection, their own eyes would be drawn to their dark horns after all.

Back in the day they were always happy looking at them but now they were the reason for Y/N being abandoned by everyone. They used to be somewhat good friends with Quackity due to his position as Schlatt’s Vice President and even he ignored them as soon as Schlatt was dead.

They had no one and at fault were these stupid, ugly horns.

Y/N let the fishing rod fall to the ground as they continued staring at their reflection. Trembling as they sobbed. Feeling so lonely with no way out.

What could they do? Put on a hat? There is no hat big enough to hide their horns. No, the horns had to go. There was no other way.

Shakily their hand snaked through the grass towards the water. Slowly submerging it into the ice cold liquid as the hand continued searching for something. As their hand landed on a stone that fit perfectly in their palm they held it in front of their face. Inspecting it.

As if to test it they softly tapped the stone against the tip of their horn. Their head moving with it. It felt weird. It didn’t hurt, of course, but it was still a weird feeling as the soft vibration traveled through it.

Letting out a shaky breath they reached back with their arm. The stone in an iron grip.

They hated this.

They hated everything about this but what could they possibly do? What could they do to get a proper chance at a normal conversation with Niki while buying flowers? A proper chance to talk with Quackity again, the man who was right there with them as all the bullshit happened.

All they wanted was a real chance to connect with people.

Y/N let out a sobbing scream as the stone collided with their horn, ripping off a good part of the tip.

It softly splashed into the water. Getting stuck between rocks, slowly rocking with the water stream.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore.” They stammered between sobs as they once again pulled their arm back in order to strike the horn again.

Again.

Again.

And again.

Their arm and hand hurt from constantly colliding with the hard material. A huge headache was now spreading through their head as they were sitting between broken pieces of what used to make up their horn.

But they weren’t done yet. The other side had to go as well.

With every new blow their whimpers would increase as well. At first a result of their hopelessness but it soon turned into an expression of pain. But they couldn’t give up. They had to keep going.

They had to get rid off this legacy Schlatt left them with.

After a particularly harsh blow they suddenly felt something warm slide down the side of their head.

Letting the stone fall down onto the ground they frantically stared at their own reflection in the water. It was blood.

Shocked they let out a shaky laugh. As much as it hurt and was horrible to look at, there weren’t any rest pieces of the horn resting on their head. So they picked the rock back up and with a blood curdling scream they slammed it into the other horn again, trying to get rid of the rest properly.

And it worked.

They were light headed from the pain, bleeding and crying but the horns were gone.

They were finally free of the curse.

“Finally.” They mumbled to themself only to finally take the time to rest and cry. They cried their god damn heart out. It was as if all the stress from the last couple of months finally jumped off their back.

Y/N’s back hit the soft ground as they slammed back, staring at the leaves up above them. Dancing with the wind and only occasionally giving away to the sun that was shining down on them.

Dark red blood staining the green grass. Their eyes growing heavier the more they continued to cry and hyperventilate. This pain is nothing. From this point on everything has to get better. It has to.

There was an audible gasp.

It wasn’t Y/N but they were too tired to look where it came from.

“Y/N? What the hell did you do? What happened? By Ender you are bleeding!” it was a male voice. Quackity? They weren’t too sure. Too delirious to tell.

Strong hands fell on their arms and pushed them up in a sitting position. Their head rolled back and they finally looked into Quackity’s pale face. So, they were right after all.

One of his arms went around their back in order to hold the crying Y/N upright as he took a better look at the wounds.

“I have to get you to someone who knows how to make healing pots. Maybe regeneration? Hell if I know. Did you do this? Your hands are covered in blood.” He was frantic.

Y/N shakily moved their hands up in order to grab Quackity’s hand that was holding their head in place and pushed it away from them, smearing his hand with their own blood “Don’t worry. I freed myself. The horns are gone. Now, you guys don’t have to be reminded of him anymore. We can all finally live in peace. No more reminders to him.”

Quackity’s eyes widened. His mouth opened up in an expression of pure shock. He hated that he could tell immediately what they meant exactly. After the war he did avoid them as much as he could. As Y/N said they, or rather their horns, reminded him too much of Schlatt and he needed time to heal but he never imagined this could lead to this.

He felt incredibly guilty. Realizing that he never really thought about what everyone’s behavior did to Y/N.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. We’ll find a way to help you.” His arm went under Y/N’s legs and with some straining he managed to get back up, holding them in his arms. Y/N leaned their head against Quackity’s chest, staining it with their blood in the process.

“See. It’s already working.” They whispered just before passing out.

“Fuck.” Quackity had to find someone who knew how to heal them as soon as possible. Jogging back into the city calling frantically out for help.

[feraltuxedo]

Three Fics Tag

I was tagged by @copperplatebeech in this fun little game, in which I'm supposed to name my most popular fic as well as two "hidden gems." I love analytics and statistics, so I'm all over this.

Though I'm already struggling with the first prompt. Going strictly by hits, my most popular story is my recently completed historical AU All My Heart Is Yours. This fic is not quite a retelling of Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre, but it is decidedly inspired by it. Set in the Victorian period, it's the story of young tutor Aziraphale, who ends up working for the moody and mysterious Mr Crowley in his enormous country house in the middle of nowhere. It' all the gothic angsty romance you expect from a story such as this (with a happy ending, of course, and smoothing out many of the plot points in the original story that just don't sit right with modern readers such as myself)

But with other metrics taken into account, I would have to choose my kid fic AU Fledging, which has more bookmarks and kudos, but fewer views. Fledging was my first and only foray into kid fic, and it's the story of two young single parents trying to navigate the complexities of raising preteens while also dealing with schoolgate politics, financial issues, loss, and trauma. It's much darker than many of my other stories but, I hope, in a very realistic way. And of course there is, as always, a happy ending for everyone involved.

These two are also my longest stories, and obviously it's easier for works with 20+ chapters to accumulate hits simply by being at the top of tag and search results for longer. So for my two "hidden gem" prompts, I want to highlight two shorter works of mine that I really love, but that haven't quite had the same chance to shine.

The first one is Party Policy. This is a pub AU set in a small town during a general election. I truly indulge in the political aspect of it, both with regards to election campaigning and also the general undercurrent of social and class politics that has a habit of sneaking into my stories. In this one, all of that is right on the surface and in the plot. This fic is not at all popular in terms of numbers, and I think - apart from the sheer British-ness of it - that it's because it's a sequel to my earlier (and much more popular) pub/student AU Recommended Reading. So getting to Party Policy requires the reader to have gotten through that earlier work first, and that, I admit, is a bit of a commitment. Hopefully one people think worth making.

The second "hidden gem" I want to mention is First Thing In The Morning. It's the first and so far only AU in which I've experimented with dual POV and dual timeline writing, with part of the story set in the modern day, and part of it set in 1990. It's part high school AU and part exes reconnecting, and I really enjoyed writing Aziraphale and Crowley both as teenagers and as middle-aged men, and thinking about how their lives developed, and how their experiences shaped their personalities over the decades. Cocky troublemaker Crowley becomes a responsible but somewhat anxious adult, while nerdy, introverted Aziraphale turns into a confident and successful author with a pronounced bastard side. The aforementioned political undercurrent is strong in this one, too, since the 1990 chapters are set during a black spot in the history of British LGBT rights, the Section 28 era. And while this story is very much on the lighter side, with barely a sprinkle of angst, this context simply cannot be ignored and is perhaps another reason why this gem remains a little hidden.

I tag @tawnyontumblr, @moondawntreader, and @ladyspock7

[oikadori]

A/N: No one asked for this but I really wanted to write some angsty fic...so this is the outcome of listening to Callum Scott and Conan Gray for three full days asfkasjk sorry this is the longest thing I’ve written Hope you like it!

Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

Summary: He was your best friend and she was perfect, but still you fell for him

Genre: angst, unrequited love 

Warnings: self-doubt, insecurity, swearings 

Now playing: Dancing On My Own, Heather 

WC~2,6K

You should already be used to hear it, but every time Atsumu let out a booming laugh you couldn’t help staring at him with dreamy eyes.

“Oi, Y/N!  Are you even listening to me?” his hazel eyes open, looking at you playfully.

“Yes, I’m hearing you, and no, it wasn’t as funny as you think” he frowns, pushing you from your chair almost making you fall if it wasn’t for his quick grip on your forearm, “You asshole!”

“Why so harsh on me today, sweetheart?”

Yo feel your stomach twist at the nickname, making Atsumu smile at the way your cheeks get a dark red.

“Because you were a total dick with those poor girls” he sighs, tired, stretching his arms behind his head, “You could’ve been nicer, you know?”

Biting your lip, you remember the teary eyes of those girls as they ran away sobbing after they had told him their love confession. Would you have the same luck if- No, no way you had a crush on him.

“They have a crush just on my looks, it’s annoying”, he spits, “Why do you care so much anyways?”

“I…-” he looks at you with curiosity as you carefully think your words, “-I guess I would feel horrible if I were them and confessed”

“Don’t tell me you have a crush on someone Y/N”

“Of course not, all of you ,men, are idiots”, he place his hand on his chest with a wounded look, making your eyes roll, a smile tickling your lips, “Now, hurry with your homework, you’re stealing my lunch time”

He reaches for his bag, taking out his lunch box to hand you the extra Onigiri he had. You smile fondly even if it is not the first time he brings you food during your study sessions.

He was your best friend, yet his gestures never failed to dazzle you.... Maybe you do have a crush on him.

 ///

You enter the gym with a tired look, a yawn slips pass your lips before sitting on the bleachers, you plug your earbuds and take out an unfinished assignment from your bag. The second years wave at you, Atsumu sticking his tongue out, you wave back before locking eyes with him and returning the gesture, making the setter grin.

The next time you lift your eyes from your work, you open them wide before taking off your earbuds to listen to the scene in front of you.

A girl wearing the team’s jacket enter the gym alongside the captain, making it feel as if the time stop. The team look at them in surprise as she bows.

“I’m eager to be your new manager! I used to play but-” she points at her wrist with a shy smile,” I got pretty bad injured so I hope I can be helpful here”, you advert Atsumu’s gaze, making your heart flinch a little.

“I’m Miya Atsumu, setter, I haven’t see ya around before” the girl looks at him with an eager look, leaning closer, a happy smile on her face as Atsumu stands still, the smirk on his face fades as she erases the gap between them. ‘The hell is she doing?’

“Oh, I know you! The star setter, guess what they say about you is truth-”, you wait for the usual compliments girls told him all the time, your lips curve up a little remembering Atsumu’s usual reaction at them, “-your serves are truly monstrous, your technique is impeccable”

His eyes glimmer with curiosity and you notice the light blush on his cheeks as he gives her his best smile. In all the years you’ve known him, you’ve seen him flirting with girls, hooking up with one before getting another, but this…this was different.

You stand up before properly thinking what you are doing. You haven’t felt jealous before and you didn’t have the right for it, but an overwhelming despair sets the pace of your feet as they move towards them.

“I used to be a setter myself but-“

“Hey, Tsumu, see you after practice to finish our chemistry homework?” you peek your head between them, making the girl take a few steps back, a surprise look on her face. Atsumu looks at your innocent smile and blinks.

“Y/N, I told you not to call me that in practice-” he whispers to you, hiding it with a few coughs, “Uhmm, sure” the couch calls them and he waves at you before jogging off with the new manager to line up with the rest.

Your eyes linger on them a few more seconds, he laughs with her, making you furrow your eyebrows together, noticing just now, how beautiful she was.

///

“You still look like crap”

“Shut up, Samu!

You stand between the twins near the main door of the cafeteria, watching Atsumu run his hand through his hair multiple times as he stares at his reflection on one of the windows ‘All that… for her?’

A voice that comes from behind you, makes Atsumu look over your shoulder with a nervousness you haven’t seen before.

“Tsum Tsum!”

He gasps at the sight of her, the short dress she is wearing frames her figure perfectly, and you can’t help to look at your own clothes wondering if you couldn’t have dressed more casually.

You remain silent as she reaches for his hair and ruffles it friendly, the display in front of you feels surreal, suddenly your limbs are numb and your eyes can’t seem to drift away from Atsumu’s happy smile as he grabs her wrist to kiss her hand.

“You look stunning”

“What a gentleman – Oh, hey ‘Samu and-“

“Y/N” the words come sharper than you intended, the girl just let out an innocent giggle

“I’m so sorry! I don’t get to see you a lot in school, you’re in the advanced classes, right?”

“Y/N is a genius, they wouldn’t allow me to play if it wasn’t for her”, Atsumu says pointing at you with pride while his other hand rests on the small of her back guiding her to your table. A lump forms on your throat, making it impossible for you to reply, you  manage to pull an empty smile.

On the table you are silent as ever, nodding at all the conversations the second years try to include you in. Your mind is already far away, wondering all the possibilities that could happen if you were brave enough to confess right there, right now, but the sight in front of you snaps you to reality again.

Atsumu lips gets stained by some red sauce and before you can point it out, she licks her thumb before pressing it on his lips. His cheeks turn bright red and his jaw slightly slacks open.

“How is that you aren’t already dating? It’s been almost three months since you are all over each other” Suna casually says

Three months indeed, and she entered more and more in their small circle. But how could you stop it when she was just…so lovely?

 Atsumu stayed until much later in practice but still you chatted together. Late night texts, becoming in late night calls to check up on each other.

‘I want to ask her out. Fuck, I want her so badly, but what if she rejects me, Y/N!’

‘Tsumu, you’re Japan’s top high school setter. Believe me, she won’t reject you’

Now you want to hit your head against the nearest wall, remembering your stupid words.

“Would you say yes if I ask you out?” 

“I would say yes to more than that” the table falls dead silent at her words as if they waited for the next scene of a movie.

 Suddenly Atsumu press his lips against hers with ferocity, she pulls the collar of his shirt, deepening the already heated kiss. You almost choke on your water, earning a concern look from Kita, you find yourself standing up violently before rushing to the restroom.

You close the door behind you before looking at yourself in the mirror, ‘I could have never competed with her’. You bite your lip, and shut your eyes tightly, your hands grasping both sides of the sink, you let your head fall forwards, eyes fixed on the white of the porcelain as they water.

“Y/N, are you okay?” you stiffen at the soft female voice coming from the other side of the door, “Do you need help?”, you let out an humorless laugh. ‘A sweetheart with everyone, huh?’

“I-I don’t feel good, it’ll better if I head home. Please tell the others, I had an emergency or something” your throat feels extremely dry all of sudden and your voice comes out shaky.

“Oh! I can take you home-“

“I’ll rather go alone! I don’t know if I’m sick and I’d hate to…infect you. Thank you, tho”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes”

“Okay…text me when you get home!”

When you hear the footsteps fading away, you wait a few more minutes to walk out the restroom, just to find Atsumu talking cheerfully, his eyes filled with adoration for her. He didn’t even look at your direction as you left the cafeteria, and in that very moment you realized he would never look at you that way.

 ///

“Where is Y/N, I haven’t seen her in years?”

“I think she is tutoring some first years”

“Oh” Atsumu finds himself looking at your usual spot on the bleachers, he barely got to see or talk to you in the recent weeks. 

You’ve been missing his calls on purpose. Since that dinner, you had to put all your energy to smile at him when he waved at you in the corridors as he held her hand. It had been almost a month of hearing him talking about how gracious she was and weeks of looking how they made out on the couch in the end of the library or against one of the gym’s walls.

You thought that if you put distance with him, you’ll manage to get over that soreness that felt heavy on your chest each time she made him laugh. But no matter how many extra classes you took or how many first years you tutored, your mind always came back to Inarizaki’s setter.

The sky was dark by the time you finished tutoring the last first year, he bowed at you and you gave him a brief smile before locking the classroom. You handled the keys to your teacher and walked out of the building.

The cold wind hit your face, making you shiver, you search for your jacket in your bag, finding only a scarf. Atsumu gave it to you. You haven’t used it in a while now, but the cold was too much to bear with for your thin uniform. You place the material carefully around your neck, caressing the fabric begore sighing, watching your breath fading into the air and start walking.

“Oi” his voice makes you turn instantly, and you catch him jogging to you, “It’s fucking cold out here!- Uh, you still have it?” he points at your neck with a cheeky grin.

Atsumu looks extremely handsome like this, a little pink on his nose and cheeks and the few lights highlight the hazel of his eyes. It makes you gulp before replying.

“Of course, I do. It was my first two-digit birthday!”, he laughs remembering the chaos you both made by that age, you smile a little before looking at him with concern, “What are you still doing here? Something happened?”

“No! I-I just wanted to walk home with you, like we used to” he looks at the ground and sighs, “I know you’re busy, but I missed ya” the words make your heart warm even when you can’t stop shivering, “You are freezing” he takes his volleyball jacket and place it over your shoulders

“No, I’m fine, really. You should-”

“Stubborn as always. What am I supposed to do with your freeze corpse?”, you huff, putting the jacket on as he starts walking.

“What about your girlfriend?”

“She already left, don’t worry she knows you’re my best friend, she won’t act bitchy at you” you just nod and start walking alongside the setter, not caring about the sting that ypu just felt in your heart.

The walk is long and awkward, Atsumu finally getting hit by the way your friendship had changed. Your brief answers and forced smiles make him more and more annoyed, becoming more silent with each minute.

You didn’t have the energy to keep up with his drollery, each time you looked at him you just felt the urge to be held by him and tell him the painful truth: You didn’t have a crush on him. No.  You loved him.

“What is wrong with you?” he says, suddenly stopping.

“Excuse me- “

“If you don’t want to be friends with me anymore, just say it! Jesus!”, his exasperated tone makes your eyes narrow, “-But don’t have me fooling around, worrying about you for almost a month” your mouth twitches downwards as you realize your indifference had hit a spot on his pride. 

For a solid minute you don’t hear anything, you just stare at him with a flood of thoughts rushing through your head until you manage to pull one of them out into a dry whisper.

“We shouldn’t be friends anymore- “his clenched fists loosen, and he watches your lips carefully, “I can’t do it anymore – thought I could but…is too much”,

The crack of your voice makes you stop for second, giving you time to gain a little bit more of air before feeling again as if you were drowning.

“I can’t be friends with you anymore, because I want you!… The worst part is that she is so FUCKING perfect!” your arms move in the air letting out all the feelings you had bottled up.

“I thought I could brush away the feeling, but I realize – I  love you, Atsumu” his mouth opens slightly not able to produce a sound as your arms fall to your sides, a tear streaming down your cheek.

You take his jacket off, the cold air embracing your body, but you can’t care less. He motions to you, but you lift your hand, stopping him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would it have changed anything?” his silence tells you all you needed, making your heart clench, “That – That’s what I though…It’s okay, really. I wouldn’t choose me either” your breath becomes irregular and you bite your lip, capturing a sob, “This is my fault, falling in love with you…If being friends makes you happy, I-I will do my best to be your friend, then”

Atsumu was usually selfish with the things he wanted and proud about the things he made but seeing you there, shivering with red eyes and swollen lips, made his heart ache.

And he couldn’t be less proud about the things he was about to say.

“You were right before. We shouldn’t be friends anymore. I do not want to deal with you being in love with me and my girlfriend”, you hiccup, fixing your sore eyes on his, “You made things so fucking complicated, it’s better to end this now”, he hiss, gritting his teeth, waiting for you to storm out.

 But when he feels your cold lips on his cheek, he bites his bottom lip harshly.

“Sorry, I never meant-”, ‘To fall for you’, it takes all his will power to not envelope you in his arms, so he only turns his face away, hearing your sobs. He loved you but not the way you did. “-to mess us up”

You walk away quickly, tears running down your cheeks as you press your hand firmly against your lips, drowning the uncontrollable sobs. Atsumu stands there watching you disappear into the coldness of the night, shutting his eyes tightly, understanding, he had lost his best friend.

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