#but I imagine it to be a relatively fluffy fic as well

[quibbs126]

Has anyone yet done a fic about Dark Cacao and Second Watcher falling in love, but it’s around the time Dark Choco’s a baby? Like, these two are getting to know each other and sort out their feelings, and it also features Dark Cacao as a new single dad, and the fic also has tiny Dark Choco shenanigans

I mean I think that’d be a neat idea. And also given that one picture we have of a baby Dark Choco being held by what looks to be a young Second Watcher, you could assume that he’s one of the people put in charge of taking care of the young prince, and that gives an easy opportunity for the two characters to meet and spend time with one another (Second Watcher and Dark Cacao I mean)

Though I suppose there’d then be the question of where Dark Choco’s other parent is at this time. Though I suppose you could also just as easily say Dark Cacao is a single parent, as in he’s quite literally the only parent of Dark Choco, whether he was baked or he just was manifested one day or something

[caseylovefics]

One Year Of Jikook Recs: 2023 - 2024

Over the last year, I've read a lot of Jikook fics, some old and some new. Many of them are explicit, FYI but this is a list of everything I bookmarked that I thought, at the time, would be worth sharing eventually. I believe there is something here for everyone here. Huge shoutout to all of these incredible authors - if you like something on the list or have any recommendations, give them some love and let me know!

Friends To Lovers:

Burn for You (50616 words) by Charmander Bachelor Jungkook and whipped Jimin have a turn in the relationship after a third party helps them...connect.

Friendly Favours (76125 words) by dontknowwhatimdoing Jungkook asks Jimin to fake date him and that sucker is dooomed. In the best way. So many adorable scenes and scenarios.

i remember thinking i had you (44676 words) by mrsmorality Unrequited love Jimin is hard and Jungkook kinda annoyeding but still cute.

Nevermind (81173 words) by rkiveink Jimin and Jungkook were best friends but haven't spoken in years. Jungkook, now recovered, helps Jimin while he mourns a close friends from his band who passes away. It's a very raw and honest fic. I found it refreshing to read something like this after a series of super fluffy fics, though in the end this is also soft in it's own way.

Run Into Sin (85356 words) by eumorious Kinda friends/roommates who are going broke and struggling to meet rent enter a porno competition to make money. You can imagine where this goes next and yes, it's raunchy and still domestic at times. Would recommend.

No Homo (75666 words) by snatchim This is just crack up. So funny and still funny even when the no homo joke is done to death. Jungkook convinces his homophobic best friend to do some 'no homo' acts after a spontaneous threesome. Who knew all you needed was a threesome to get a boyfriend these days?

what am I, darling? (18960 words) by paliampelo Heartbreakingly well written unrequited love from Jimin. Jungkook flits around from person to person until he finds his hyung's lips surprisingly irresistible. I really love some of the dialogue in this and the first kiss scene is just *chefs kiss*. You wouldn't believe how many times I read that shit.

Hybrid Fics:

Devil Dog (151164 words) by Charmander Uggggh why is everything they write so amazing? I think I read this like 2-3 times in the last year. Hybrid Jungkook and human Jimin who has a sick up his ass but has a wonderful character arc. Fantastic read. Recommend this to everyone!

I See Summer in Your Smile (28115 words) by frenchfries4life Oooof. Jaguar hybrid Jungkook is sliiick ya'll and I love how relatively transparent his character is in this fic, and it still works. Definitely recommend this for anyone who needs to be eased into the hybrid world, though this one kinda blends with some ABO themes.

Fantasy/Magical/Demon Fics:

NIGHTSHADE BLAZE (131143 words) by carameLIZed_suga I truly believe this is a MUST READ for every Jikook fan. With the amount of recognition it has, I would be suprised if you haven't read it honestly. It's just so so so good. Probably the third or fourth dragon fic I've read, but definitely my favourite so far and probably the fic I've re-read the most.

Soul To Sell (43003 words) by carameLIZed_suga Demon's Jimin and Jungkook have been fighting and thirsting over eachother for years and it is a wonderful spectacle to consume. Super hot...and devilishly well paced for those of you who are impatient readers. At this point just read all of caramelized suga if you like a couple of their stories.

you love me, you love me not (164358 words) by melodrunkcherry In a series of unfortunate events, witch Jimin makes a love potion for Namjoon and Jungkook drinks it. They're at a witch school, coven thing. I can't fully remember this but it was enchanting and a very fun read.

you shine in this pitch darkness (161271 words) by tinymiminie Demon Jungkook rarely visits earth, but when he sees Jimin's colourful soul and fluffy hair, he's whipped. This is a different take on demon Jungkook that was enjoyable to read. Jimin is just a ball of squish and Jungkook an evil puppy.

ABO:

Bloom In Rebellion (189138 words) by infinitetwinkles This fic had refreshing world building and themes that was nice to see in the ABO world. Read this really quickly and wish I discovered this author sooner!

everything you do (i want to do it with you) (10113 words) by serendiplini Sickeningly sweet friends to lovers. Tae is so done with their shit and I love it.

A Tale of a Lonely Pup (51325 words) by Vitamin_PJM Angsty true mates fic set in university that is super cute!

The Rogue (226263 words) by Allnighter_Friend Oooooo if you haven't read this. Read it. Just trust me. I devoured this fic and it just gives you all the feels. Jimin is standing in as the leader of his pack while his father is sick. There are rogues in the forest and when out on a hunt with the crew, they catch said rogue, Jungkook. Many good twists and turns and some good enemies that actually do bad. Unlike those soft enemies who are kinda just...there.

Broken (before I met you) (36611 words) by peachywritten Soft. So soft and cute at the heart. Good pacing.

(k)not stuck (11550 words) by carameLIZed_suga Raunchy neighbour/nemesis read that was also pretty funny.

A Tale of Amber and Honey (74960 words) by carameLIZed_suga Old friends to lovers with some well deserved angst in ABO world. Really enjoyed this!

chasing dusk, catching dawn (17221 words) by carameLIZed_suga First ever fic I've read featuring and enigma wolf. Really primal hunt-and-be-hunted dick-swinging competition and a bit violent in the good way if you can handle it.

Harder Than a Diamond (21652 words) by carameLIZed_suga Another raunchy fic. Probably less violent than the one above but crime boss Jungkook is always a win.

Clueless with a Pinch of Chilli (35000 words) by Vitamin_PJM Their friends set Jimin up on blind dates after he gives up on Jungkook. Jikook are two idiots who deserve each other and are cute and clueless in the process.

In A Rut (21935 words) by Gylliweed Jungkook struggles with violent ruts and Jimin helps coach him through it. Really like how this was approached.

The Gathering (43406 words) by Gylliweed Every year trials are completed and the winner can ask for whatever they want. Jungkook and Jimin are both gunning for the win when they start catching feeeeelings. Damn I loved this one. Ate it up like a sweet apple pie.

Fragile (68881 words) by Neoneun_na I don't remember this super well but I do remember it being soft. Good feels.

The Courage To Live (128832 words) by infinitetwinkles Timid Jimin and caring Jungkook. Classic dynamic and story.

There for You (29788 words) by Ocean_View_Song Softmore Jimin is pining for senior Jungkook who gets possessive when a threat arises. Very cute and we love a good jeonlous story.

To Hurt and To Heal (40587 words) by rinnieluv Solo mama Jimin comes across Jungkook when on the run and so the story unfolds. Touching connections and cute pups.

Nepenthe (81318 words) by cakeandruin Jimin is an omega who goes against the packs norms but meets an alpha werewolf who can transform, unlike him. Everyone is scared of Jungkook and they live on the outskirts of the pack together in the woods. It's a domestic and sweet story, would probably even call it a classic ABO.

your fingerprints on my heart (5850 words) by nimy Jimin thinks alpha Jungkook can't stand him, but the cutie is misunderstanding the dummy's intentions. Nice, quick read.

Other Fics:

Sunflower (152054 words) by merryasoul Enemies to lovers fic that I waited to read. Me. Waiting. Patiently to read this because it was so good. I remember stumbling on this and staying up all night to read the first chapters that were out because the great characters and details captured me and the build up over years with Jikook really hooks you. I seriously recommend you read this if you haven't already and give the author some loove.

soft animal (46729 words) by paliampelo Jungkook has amnesia after a car accident. We all know the first original Jikook amnesia fic and I think this is a nice one too in its own way.

the joy of sex (31410 words) by decompositionbooks Roomates fic - Jungkook makes love in his room and seems like a sex god and Jimin is curious. Solid.

Top Chooks (17177 words) by carameLIZed_suga Rivals to lovers fic where Jimin and Jungkook play gay chicken at a party. Hilarious and hot.

And thats a wrap!

If you made it to the end, thank you for reading. I tend to pile up fics in my bookmarks and wanted to clear them out somehow - I've decided, this will be my approach going forward so stay tuned for the next one.

[changbinsboiledegg]

awh i really love your comfort fics! is it okay if i request where skz s/o is deaf? sorry if that's weird but you don't have to do this if you don't want too :)

also please remember to take care of yourself before i find you and eat you

Nooo it’s not weird at all. I have a deaf relative so I don’t find it weird. Also thank youuuu! Feedback means a lot to me! :,) I WILL TAKE CARE OF MYSELF, I don’t wanna get eaten yet. You do the same though!!!! 🫶☺️

GN Deaf! Reader X SKZ

Warnings: reader is deaf. Some have hearing aid mentions, others the reader is just rawdogging it bc… well, idk. Variety?, two members get confrontational to defend reader. Mostly just fluffy moments skz would have with a deaf s/o.

Note: I’m not deaf myself, I’m just basing this off of my relatives experience and what I’ve researched so please let me know of any inaccuracies! I want to be as respectful as possible. Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy and as always, if no one’s told you today, ily! 🫶

Bold = words said in sign language.

Italics = notes app, written notes, or text messages.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎��︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Chan

“You look great.” Chan carefully signed, making sure you saw.

You smiled at his compliment and signed back, “thank you. You too.”

Chan reached for your hand, taking it in his and leading you over to a bench in the park you two met up at.

He sat down after you did and shifted to face you, raising his hands as he prepared to sign again.

“What do you want to do today?” You could tell all he wanted to do was make sure you’re happy and having fun.

You started to sign back, but wasn’t sure just how much sign language he knew, so you pulled out your phone and typed your response in the notes app.

‘There’s that amusement park that I’ve been wanting to check out?’

Passing your phone to Chan, he read it and smiled, nodding when he saw you were looking at him.

“Me too.”

Lee Know

You and Minho were in a busy café when someone had bumped into you and immediately got annoyed and started to yell at you, “get out of the way!”

You were unaware, already having had gotten over being bumped into but this person harshly grabbed your shoulder to make you look at them.

You read their lips, feeling frightened that someone was this upset when they were the ones who bumped into you.

Minho immediately stepped in between you and this angry person and calmly but sternly glared down at them, crossing his arms.

“You’re seriously yelling at a deaf person for something you did? You look stupid and you sound stupid.” Minho spoke, but you were of course unaware of what was being said.

You looked back at the line, seeing you and Minho were about to be next to order and tugged his sleeve. He looked back at you, giving you a small smile as the angry person quickly left.

“We are next.” You signed, then nodded towards the counter. Minho put his arm around your shoulders as you two walked up to the counter once the person in front of you had finished ordering.

Changbin

You read the lyrics Changbin wrote, trying to imagine the melody, while also feeling his feelings in his words.

You were always the first one to read any lyrics Changbin wrote— even if you weren’t near. He’d wait for you.

Changbin had his body facing you, watching your fascinated expressions before handing back the page he wrote the lyrics on.

“I just read song of the year.” You texted him with a grin. Changbin opened the message and immediately grinned with you.

“Thank you.” He said out loud before realizing his mistake. He quickly started to text an apology, as well as the ‘thank you’ he meant for you.

But you put your hand on his and stopped his typing. You began to type a new message.

“I understood you.”

Changbin felt silly for panicking at a simple mistake. Of course you understood. If it wasn’t a complex sentence and as long as he enunciated his words, you could read his— or anyone’s lips when talking.

“Sorry.” He signed, to which you shook your head with a smile.

Hyunjin

Hyunjin had his head in your lap, enjoying the quiet as he read a book while you played with his hair, on your phone.

He occasionally hummed out a tune, flipping the pages and glancing up at you every now and then to see if you were still doing alright with his head on your lap.

You scrolled through social media, still absentmindedly playing with his hair. Hyunjin paused his reading just to admire you and it took you a second to realize he was looking directly at you, a fond smile on his face.

“What?” You asked, slowly so he’d understand.

Hyunjin gently grabbed your hand that was in his hair and placed a kiss on the palm of your hand.

“Nothing.” He mouthed slowly, enunciating the word and waiting a few seconds before returning to his book.

You placed your hand back in his hair before leaning down to kiss his forehead.

Han

“You would not believe the day I just had!” Jisung started off, rambling about his day and pacing back and forth, occasionally throwing his hands up as he vented.

You watched on, not saying a word as you read his lips here and there but nothing made sense as you couldn’t hear a thing he said nor could you grasp the context of what it was he was rambling about.

“I went to the exit but they still wouldn’t let me in because I didn’t have clearance even though I’m— oh shit, I’m so sorry, I totally forgot!” Jisung abruptly stopped when he saw you in your confusion.

He fumbled for his phone and quickly typed up everything he just vented to you about, handing you the phone.

He sat beside you as you read the entire rant about his day for a solid ten minutes before finally handing the phone back to him.

“I’m sorry.” He signed an apology, mortified that he momentarily forgot you were deaf in the midst of his frustrations.

You pulled out your phone to type a message, laughing a little.

“It’s okay, it happens.” Once he read that, you typed another message, “I love you, dork.”

Felix

“Hello, love. I made you lunch. It’s in the container in the fridge, just remember to heat it up first! - Lix”.

It was the first sticky note— of many, that you’d see during the day. Felix usually left sticky notes before he left with different messages on each.

You got up and got ready for the day, adding that note to a secret box where you kept every note he’s ever left you, unbeknownst to him.

You saw his next note on the bathroom mirror, immediately smiling when you read the words.

“I don’t have to see you to know you look breathtaking ;) - Lix”.

You took it off the mirror and continued getting ready, walking to your closet door and seeing another note.

“You look amazing in anything you wear. Don’t overthink your outfit. <3 - Lix”.

You felt your heart flutter, choosing an outfit and adding the sticky notes to your box.

You were ready to head out, making sure your hearing aids were on properly and saw another note on your front door.

“Have a great day, love. I’ll see you tonight. You look so amazing right now and I’m so proud of you. - Lix”.

This note, you placed in your wallet to help you get through the day.

Seungmin

Seungmin always had his notes app open when you were with him, just in case there was something he wanted to say that he hadn’t learned to sign yet.

One hand around his phone and one around your shoulders as he held the door open for you, entering the restaurant you were eating at.

Once you two were seated, the waiter came to your table, asking, “what would you both like to drink?”

“Water for me and,” Seungmin looked at you as you pointed to the drink you wanted. The waiter wondered why you weren’t being verbal and asked you again.

Seungmin sighed, wondering if he should tell the waiter you were deaf or let him figure it out on his own.

“And for you?” The waiter asked, clearly trying to get you to talk. You didn’t hear him, having moved on to what meal you were going to order.

Seungmin tapped your hand, catching both yours and the waiter’s attention and signed, “He’s being pretty rude, don’t you think?”

The waiter didn’t understand what Seungmin had signed, but it was then he knew now why you pointed at what you wanted, rather than being verbal. You nodded slowly at Seungmin, a bit confused since you hadn’t realized the situation.

“I would like to request a new waiter, please.” Seungmin politely told the waiter after.

I.N

You had originally wanted to surprise Jeongin with his favorite takeout and was excited to bring it to him and ear with him.

The problem was, your hearing aids batteries died in the middle of ordering, leaving the world around you silent.

The cashier was getting impatient, repeating the same question as you were panicking.

“One second…” you spoke out loud, hoping it came out right. You texted Jeongin the situation, your surprise now spoiled, and within a matter of a few seconds, he called you.

“Wait, I’m going to text you.” You spoke again, shaking and typing the words, “I’m putting you on speaker phone. Please order and answer the questions she asks.”

The cashier tried her best to keep her irritation in check, repeating what you had ordered prior to him calling you.

Jeongin listened carefully, his mouth watering when he heard the names of the food being listed.

“That sounds right.” Jeongin smiled, hearing the register ringing up. He stayed on the phone as he heard you pay and move out of line to wait for your order.

“Thank you.” You frowned, wishing it could still be a surprise for him. Jeongin hung up and immediately texted you.

“No, thank you. I know you meant it as a surprise, but I’m happy either way.”

You smiled a little, feeling a bit more cheered up. Jeongin started to type again, a new message appearing,

“Even without food, I’m still grateful to just be with you.”

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Note 2: Y’all, I firmly believe if skz had a deaf s/o, they’d for sure learn sign language. You can’t tell me they wouldn’t.

[em-sars]

My Top 10 (actually 9) Dramione Fic Reccemmendations:

I am not a terribly avid reader of angst-filled fics (sorry, Manacled fans). This list will be mostly romcom / fluffy, major slow burns, and Draco POV. I have included a few more serious fics, but they are just so well written / interesting, that they made my list. Without further ado, and in no particular order, my Top 9 Dramione Fics:

1. To one one's surprise, and not being overhyped at all (I'm completely serious), is Draco Malfoy and the Mortifying Ordeal of Being in Love. This one needs no description due to its popularity, so I will only add to the hype. I have always been a fan of adventure-romance (e.g. Romancing the Stone, Princess Bride, Stardust, Love and Monsters, Shrek, A Knight's Tale, and, not to get repetitive, The Lost City), but this was the first fanfiction I read with such dedication to an interesting, funny, and, at times, suspenseful story. I also love seeing Draco fall first and his unreliable narration in Hermione's feelings for him. I adore the characterization of / relationships between characters (not just Draco and Hermione) as well as the way the author develops the existing magic system. It is definitely a slow burn with misunderstandings. I'm not a big fan of misunderstandings after they are together because I think it's lasy, and I will stop reading it. In this fic, however, the author makes sure that the 'will they won't they' isn't over done.

2. A Cosmology of Blacks, Malfoys, and Assorted Individuals. This one is in process, but updates are consistent, and I am hooked. Draco POV only. Not only does this fic have the best name, it also includes many anecdotes of Black history (particularly focused on Narcissa, Andromeda, and Bellatrix) while also tying in a romance plot. The story begins with Andromeda confronting Narcissa, and the Black family to be reunited. Draco meets Hermione again for the first time post-graduation, but something is wrong with Hermione's magic. They slowly become friends and Draco develops feelings. This one is on the angsty side, but it's nothing dark or war-based. It is decidedly cosy. I absolutely love any fic that casts a parallel between Andromeda and Ted and Draco and Hermione (I also love supportive Harry who compares them to his parents).

3. The Disappearances of Draco Malfoy. This is another popular one that deserves the hype. This one was outside my comfort zone as it is fairly heavy on the angst. BUT I think it is a really imaginative retelling of DH. If you are unfamiliar, the author rewrites the end of HBP wherein Draco accepts Dumbledore's offer of help. He is then forced to accept the protection of people who hate him and whom he hates. This is a true Enemies to Friends to Lovers story. It has a mixed POV. This story is full of mystery, suspense, plot twists, romance, and angst. This is another one that explores the magic system in an interesting way.

4. It Happened in Egypt is another romcom adventure fic. It is funny, mysterious, and action-packed. In this story, Hermione is in Egypt on a 'holiday' and runs into Draco who is drunk and has been robbed (no wallet or wand). As the author says, this fic is a love story to the Nile and Egyptian Mythology. Great for history lovers. And while this story is a relatively quick burn, there is still a major chunk of mutual pining.

5. Scary Partner Privilege is another in progress piece, but it is so creative. It is Draco POV. He and Hermione (a no-nonsense-to-the-point-of-rudeness cop) are paired as elite aurors. Each chapter is a different case like in Brooklyn 99 or other cop shows with the overall plot of their tumble into romance. This Hermione is a complete BAMF, and Draco is a darling.

6. Distance is a split POV fic. Hermione is a new Unspeakable and Draco is an auror who hasn't been given a real case. They end up teaming up to investigate a mysterious magical figurine. Another adventure fic set in the Indus Valley. Such a fun concept. Another one that is a good read for history lovers.

7. Lavender Scones and Second Chances is the final in progress story I have on this list. This story is mostly here for vibes (cosy) because the research that brought them together is more periphery than anything. But it is still a sweet story that I am excited to watch develop.

8. Love and Other Historical Accidents is Jane Austen meets Harry Potter. Hermione and Draco get sent back to the late Georgian / early Regency period in magical Wiltshire. Lots of classic Austen tropes and plot lines. It is an established dynamic between them, and Draco is already in love with Hermione.

9. Soft As It Began is a unique story wherein Harry vanished the day after the Battle of Hogwarts. Almost 5 years later, Hermione, with help from Draco (they are investigative journalists), travels around Europe looking for him. This story plays with the story of The Three Brothers and the Deathly Hallows. I just love all the characterizations in this fic.

[princessxt]

Hiya! Can we please get a Dean Winchester and Daughter Reader fic? It can be as however long as you want.

Hiii, omg this is my fist imagine, I hope you like it🤍

You can make a request in the comments or by asking me a question!

You can see the list of who I write about here

like and follow to encourage me to keep posting<33

You look like Dean Winchester in this light

Pairing(s): Dean Winchester x Daugther!Reader

Gender: Fluffy?

Warning: None

——————♥︎♥︎——————

I turn from side to side in bed, trying to fall asleep again, after waking up scared from a nightmare.

It's been a week since my life changed completely. My mother had been murdered by a spirit, my father, who my mother told me was dead, appeared saying that he hunts demons and other supernatural things with his brother. And now I'm here, in a any roadside motel with them, who are my last living relatives.

Knowing that sleep wouldn't come again, I get out of bed, feeling the cold breeze hitting my body. I put my feet in slippers and go to the dresser, grabbing a soft, warm coat. Before opening the bedroom door I see that they are 2:53 am. I leave the room and huddle inside my coat in the cold air. I close the door and go to the soda machine, taking 2 cans of Coca-Cola. I sit on the stairs and open the can of soda. I watch the cars passing by. down the dark road and I see one of them entering the motel parking lot. A couple gets out and goes to the reception, leaving a few minutes later. They go up the stairs and look at me sideways, but soon enter a room. I drink the cold liquid from the can and I think about everything that happened in the last few days, still trying to understand everything. I was so focused on my thoughts that I didn't notice that Dean had left his room, which was next to mine.

"Did you lose sleep too?" He sits next to me, breaking me out of my thoughts.

"I woke up from a nightmare and couldn't sleep again." I pick up the can of soda that was still unopened and hand it to him.

"Want to tell me how it was?" He opens the can and takes a sip. I take a deep breath and start to remember the dream.

"It was with my mother. I was in a house. It was dark and I heard her screaming, calling my name and asking for help. I tried to scream back while I opened the doors of the house looking for her. My voice wouldn't come out, and when the doors opened, the room was empty. When I finally find her, she stops screaming. I arrive too late to save her." I look at the road, avoiding eye contact with Dean. Our relationship was strange, we didn't know how to behave around each other. We could even be father and daughter, but we'd only known each other for a week, and under troubled circumstances.

"I'm sorry" He says after a few minutes, breaking the awkward silence. I just shrug.

"I know we don't know each other very well. But I want to try to do this right. I want to try to be a father. The father that I wasn't to you when you were growing up. I want to be, from now on, the father figure that I I never have. It's going to be difficult, I'm sure of that, but I'm willing to face a lot of things to have a good relationship." He speaks and I feel his gaze on me.

"My mother always said that I am a very difficult person to deal with." I finally look at him. Even though I didn't want to admit it, I looked like him. His dark blonde hair, his green eyes reminded me of mine. Sam had noticed earlier, while we were on the road in Dean's '67 Impala, that our tastes were similar. He liked classic rock. and he loved crude jokes, just like me.

"I can handle this. You'll also have to work hard to like me." He gives me a little push with his shoulder, making me laugh.

"I saw a 24-hour snack bar near here. Want to have a late-night snack?" He gets up and looks at me from above. I agree and get up too.

"I hope there's pie and cheeseburgers there" We headed towards the Impala, and got in, heading to the snack bar, which wasn't far away.

I may not have noticed, but Dean smiled the entire way, realizing that in addition to gaining a new reason to fight evil, just to ensure I have a better future, he would have the chance to do better than his father did with him and his brother, giving his all to make me happy, and putting me as a priority in his life.

[phoeebsbuffay]

Imagine Anakin Skywalker heals your wounds… especially after a tough day. By doing so, he is healed from his own shadows.

Warnings: short fic; drama, angst; emotional intimacy…

Warnings 2: fluffy endings.

Recommendations: “Video Games” by Lana del Rey.

***

Anakin’s been having troubling days, you know it. You try your best to comfort your husband, lending him an ear. And the general appreciates every effort you pay by doing him so.

However, he’s been so focused in his own growing resentment toward the Jedis and the anger that has been boiling within him that he didn’t realize you’ve been struggling with your own demons.

Out of the clonic wars, you’ve been going through a war yourself. Old insecurities come every time your plans don’t succeed, when relatives knock at your door with criticism sharp as knives, pleased to blame you for whatever’s been going on in their lives.

You’ve been married for nearly six years and as much as you’ve tried to step away, you know you couldn’t. The reason for it lies in your old attachment to the family you grew with, your inner child trying to heal from such wounds. But there’s your work too. You feel overwhelmed by how you are treated.

There are also the friends you lost for the war, the ones who don’t care about how you’ve been fairing since you’ve married—although few would know you have wedded a Jedi, but the ones who do are out of your grasp.

You begin to wonder if you are enough. It’s not as if you feel helpless when it comes to everything. You don’t wield the Force, you are not part of the politics world. What are even you?

Anakin’s been out for a while to protect the chancellor, so you have no clue what’s about to happen… or what would happen had he not been plagued by a very realistic view of your melancholy.

Quickly, he rushes back home, ignoring the Chancellor’s pleas. And to your dismay, Anakin finds you crying at the couch, heart breaking for the aforementioned reasons—but aching for him, craving for his comfort.

“My love? What’s the matter?”

“Anakin!”, you stand, trying to recompose yourself. “I thought you would not come home until…”

“No, no. This isn’t about me”, he is urged to go after you, promptly pulling you against him, holding your face with his hands, his own eyes tearing when seeing how your wounds came to the surface. “I’ve sensed something was going on. Please forgive me for not realizing this earlier…”

“It’s okay. This all happened whilst you were gone anyway”, you say as you are engulfed in his arms. “But you…”

“No. This isn’t about me”, says he firmly. “I will not leave you bleeding, I will rock you in my arms as I did before I left.”

Carefully, he leads you upstairs.

“Come, you need a shower.” Anakin speaks softly, but seriously nonetheless. “I won’t leave you ever again. Fuck this Jedi Order, fuck the Chancellor.”

You had just sniffed a bit when his words caught you off the guard.

“Ani…” You are brought to the shower, but you are so perplexed you don’t realize he’s preparing shower all the whilst tossing his clothing off. “What are you saying?”

As he comes to you, standing right behind you as he helps undress you too, you comprehend there’s been too much going on.

With both of you.

Threatening the domestic peace.

“I’m saying I’ve been away too long. I heard your silent screams. How your heart whispered “don’t go” , rioting against the imposed loneliness”, the way he reads your intensity so well freezes you.

Anakin side smirks at you. Now standing before you, he raises your chin and, holding it gently, says:

“I know my wife well. You shouldn’t underestimate my power, Y/Nickname.”

“I thought by hiding well, I wouldn’t trouble you. I mean…” And here you burst out at long last all that was well hidden, but improperly buried within.

But words are dissolved in the form of your tears, although Anakin needs not to hear them to understand you.

However, when soothing you, helping healing your emotional wounds, he realizes everything else has little importance.

Yes, he doubled his powers, but what importance are these when you are hurt? Yes, he’s built a great reputation in the war, but who cares about it when you’ve been fighting yours on your own? No. This would end, and to end this tonight releases the burden Anakin, formerly expected to fill the heavy role of the chosen one, has been carrying for years.

As you two move to be under the shower, every tear is wiped away when water comes clean over you. He holds you close, reassuring you in every possible way that he’s not leaving you anymore.

Not now.

Not ever again.

“Besides”, Anakin whispers. “I married you because of who you are. I was attracted to your y/c hair, your y/c skin, your y/c eyes, and not to mention your smile.”

He smiles when you give in and smile too. Your eyes are closed, your face is buried against his chest. His hands are going up and down your back, gently stroking your hair.

“But what captured my heart”, the Jedi proceeds, not realizing he’s finding the balance all the whilst light comes to the surface of his speech, “was your kindness, your good will towards every one you love. Your wit, your sharp brain. Yes, you are a very smart woman, Y/N. Remember when you listed every history of each of Coruscant’s countries? I could never do that!”

You chuckle fondly at the memory. You start to calm yourself, pleased to going back to your stable emotional self. At least for now.

Anakin senses the same, but he doesn’t quit with his work with you. Now, he’s more determined to fight away your insecurities.

“You have a peculiar sense of humor, I give you that, but so what? Even when you are shut in yourself, however shy you can be, you are friendly, lovely, loyal. You’ve been so helpful to me, Y/N”, and here is when he’s starting to get teary himself. “You are not just my lover, my wife, but my best friend.”

There is little need to say anything at all. You cast him a loving glance. Holding his face with both of your hands, you tiptoe and kiss his lips. Anakin holds you back, returning the kiss slowly and passionately.

It seems everything is solved. At least for now…

***

When Anakin wakes the next day, he’s taken aback by your absence on your side of bed. Quickly, he dresses and goes after you, unwilling to waste any more time.

However, every riot comes to silence when he finds you on the hills, meditating the way he taught you to. His own anxiety dying away, he slows his pace, eyeing you with the utmost care.

The male Jedi finds you at peace, part of the wilderness as wind blows against you. You may not be a Force user, but it’s clearly in you. Anakin remembers telling you about it.

“Every one is sensitive to it”, he told you, a side smirk displayed on his lips. “If you had the patience, dear one, I’d gladly teach you.”

“I’ll leave that to you. You know I don’t belong to this Jedi stuff”, you remarked lazily.

Nonetheless, he taught you many ways to use Force in your favor, especially when anxiety strikes you.

He sighs, though. When watching you in such a serene scene, his own nerves come down. Anakin’s own thoughts drift apart in some sort of dissociation.

He has his own hurting to heal, and though he feels better, the Jedi wishes to…

“I know you are there”, you break the silence between you two. You stand and move to where he is. “Why didn’t you come to me, Ani?”

Anakin sweeps away his troubling thoughts to concentrate in you. As he goes to where you stand, you notice a strange stark between you two: where he dresses black, you opt for red with details in white.

Reading your thoughts, Anakin says:

“I was merely watching you, love. You seemed in peace. But now I see you are overthinking… what’s it, darling?” He strokes your face, all the whilst pulling you closer. “My wild little thing.”

“You are the only one who sees that way”, you whisper, resting your forehead against his. “But I worry over you. Why are you dressing dark robes, sweet love?”

“They are practical, is all”, Anakin tries to move away from the topic. “I always saw you who you truly are and never shied away from you.”

You raise your eyes and Anakin, when contemplating them, is instantly drowned in you.

“I am taking you as who you really are.”

One moment of silence. Clouds start to tremble into one another. Wind howls louder now.

“There is evil in me”, he furrows his eyebrows, avoiding your eye contact as he speaks his thoughts out loud. “There is a winter coming that I have no strength to pull myself away from.”

To his dismay, you are comprehensive.

“You are not evil, Anakin Skywalker. You are misunderstood by others, but not by me.” You touch his face gently, bearing the sweet sensation his soul equals yours in a gentle harmony. “We are not simple creatures to be easily defined by others. We are more than that.”

“How can you say that after all the things I’ve done?”

You raise his face so his eyes meet yours.

“We live in days of war, my darling. But you are my peace. Allow me to be yours too.”

Anakin melts in a smile. Resting his forehead against yours one more time, his arms now hold you possessively.

“You are, Y/N. Maker knows you bring me such fortitude, joy and many other good things I am unworthy of…”

“Shush”, you quiet his darkness, softly so. “Let us not welcome any sort of agony here. I love you for who you are, not for what others want you to be, Anakin.”

When his eyes stare in yours, you see how easily they dance in between two irises: blue… and yellow. But you are not frightened. You remain there, locked in his arms.

“You have conviction”, so judges him.

“Yes”, you affirm. “You are my conviction.”

“I fucking love you, wife”.

And by saying that he kisses you. As you return the kiss, every rain falls over you, but no thunder finds way to break through the clouds that rumble in the skies.

***

• Epilogue

He watches you sleep peacefully, face buried in his chest. Anakin smiles at such sight as his hand plays with your curls.

“It’s you. It’s all for you, everything I do is for you”, he whispers.

As if you capture his words, your lips curl upon a smile. Anakin chuckles lightly, pressing a kiss on top of your forehead.

It rains outside, but it’s brighter on the inside. Sun isn’t setting on paradise, not anymore. And just after this contemplation, he holds you closer, decided to go back to sleep.

This is not a dream, but what’s the need to wake up from it?

[vi-trying-to-survive]

Hey, I know you have finals right now (wishing you the best on those, I know you’ve got this!!) but I just thought I would make a request before I forgot about it lol. Obviously, it’s a Stephen Strange x female reader fic because I love him <3 Maybe one where it’s almost Christmas time but that’s not necessarily important I just love the winter lol. But the main part of the story is that they are playing Mario Kart extremely early in the morning (aka they still have their pajamas on, which is the best way to play Mario Kart) and both of them are competitive but in a friendly and loving way?? And some super cute and fluffy ending that I’ll let you decide because I can’t think of one and I trust you entirely :) anyways, hope all is well and that you do well on your exams!!!

Stephen Strange x f!Reader

Summary: Stephen and Y/N keeping up with Christmas traditions (basically what it says in the request :) )

Warnings: None, just fluff :))))))

A/N: Hope you guys like it !! I'm sorry I've basically been MIA also though, but I'm trying to write more now :')))) Also if you have any ideas or think I could improve my writing in anyway do let me know :)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Y/N) groaned as the sunshine streamed through the windows, caressing her face, willing her to wake up, as she tried to fight it, stuffing her face into the fluffy pillows, but eventually failing and flipping over, granted there was not much effort to it. Blinking her eyes, she rubbed slightly with the base of her palm, trying to get rid of the sleep that had formed as they focused on the room that surrounded her, the blurred edges becoming sharper and more visible. She yawned deeply, stretching her arms out a little, before leaning back into the mattress, soft and springy, sinking into the warm embrace of the man that held her comfortably, somehow still in deep sleep, inhaling the familiar scent of pine wood and spice that always stuck to him. Feeling him stir a little at her movements, she was quick to lace her fingers in his dark locks, gently brushing through any tangles, slowly lulling back to sleep. Turning her body to face his she couldn't help but admire him, so at peace when he slept, the lines along his face relaxed and almost non-existent, lips parted ever so slightly, as his chest rose up and down calmly. She found herself smiling affectionately at the sight of him, knowing that it had always been hard for the man to relax, first neurosurgery then the mystic arts and now a protector of the multiverse, he never seemed to be able to give himself a break, at least until her was asleep, it was like seeing an entirely new side of Stephen so relaxed and nonchalant. She wished that he would give himself that more often, for his own sake, but he never listened, always putting the world before himself, honourable but relatively self-destructive, so she figured the least she could do was let him sleep in for another hour or so, and it wasn't like they had any pressing matters to attend to.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Honey, hurry up already or I'm going to start it without you", she called tauntingly, waving the multi-coloured controllers in the air, not needing to turn around to imagine the exasperated look on his face.

"Oh my- Would you stop I am getting food for you and me", he frowned, tapping his foot impatiently, almost spilling the milk over the edge of the bowl. He was usually against cereal, claiming that it's not a food for an adult, but there were exceptions. Capping the carton swiftly, he balanced the two matching bowls and mugs unsystematically in his arms, nearly letting everything fall over in his hurry to reach her.

She could only grin in delight as she started counting backwards, "Three, two-", knowing how much it annoyed him, which was only confirmed by groan as he got closer to her spot on the couch.

"Okay, stop", he huffed out, freeing his arms as he placed the food on the coffee table, plopping down and grabbing his controller out of her hold, "I'm here".

"Just in time", she teased, waggling her finger at him in a disappointed manner, before shovelling a spoon-full of the probably unhealthy sugary cereal into her mouth, savouring the tooth-rotting taste and adjusting her grip around the controller.

He rolled his eyes, running a hand through his dark locks as he leaned back onto the plush velvet pillows that were splayed along the seat, "Yeah, yeah, just start the game and then we'll see who's talking".

"If you say so ?", she sang out, confidently hitting start, unable to help the way her smile grew wider as the familiar music rang out, almost bursting in excitement.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He bit his lip hard, unable to feel it as his heart raced with adrenaline, whispering under his breath, "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon", his fingers flying along the controls, gaze fixated on the bright colours on the screen, before it all went blank and revealed the scoreboard. He fell face-flat onto the fluffy pillow, partly hoping to suffocate himself so he wouldn't be able to feel the embarrassment that he did now. How was it that he Stephen Strange, neurosurgeon and master of the mystic arts, was unable to ever beat his fiancé at Mario Cart.

"Ahahahaha, YES", jumping up and down on the couch cushions, she caused him to shake around with her, as she waved her arms in air, performing a terrible victory dance, exclaiming, "I am triumphant once again". On another day, he probably would've made fun of her for it but at the time he was wallowing in too much self pity for that.

He sat up, swiping a palm across his face contorted in confusion, "I never understand, you always win at the last second".

"It's called being the queen of Mario Cart", she smirked, giving him an affectionate poke on the arm, to which she got no response but a pout from the sorcerer, which was pretty uncharacteristic from the man who always needed the last word.

She shook her head, chuckling as she moved closer to him bumping her shoulder against his and letting her head drop onto his shoulder, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck, "Awwwww, are you upset". She placed a soft kiss on his skin, the heat radiating off him warming up her lips, hoping to get an answer, and yet he still kept to his pact of silence.

"You are such a big baby", she huffed crossing her arms, slinking down onto the side of the armrest, glaring at him.

A sudden thought came to her mind and she grinned maliciously at him, which he took no notice of, "If you won't talk to me I guess I just have to use extreme measures", before raising her fingers to his sides, tickling aggressively, breaking his stoic manner as he burst into laughter. She moved closer to him, to get a better angle at tickling, causing tears to brim at his eyes and her to giggle along with him.

"Okay, fine you win, just stop", he managed to admit defeatedly even with his hard laughter, raising his arms in the air, like waving a white flag at her, pulling her into his lap, still smiling, "I love you". He rested his hands gently on her waist, fiddling with the hem of her sweater, humming softly as her fingers twirled around the strands of hair on the back of his neck, watching her lovingly , before pressing her closer to him, joining their lips for a sweet kiss.

Pulling away, she nestled herself comfortably in his hold, enjoying his warmth, whispering "I love you too", as she pecked his cheek affectionately.

[dutchvanwinkle]

Mr Van der Linde Pt. 5 - Dutch x Reader

Hello again darlings! I hope those of you celebrating Easter / Ramadam / Passover are having a wonderful weekend, did you know this overlap only happens three times every century? How cool is that!! Whether you're observing a holiday or not, it's now time for us to all come together and fantasize about daddy Dutch :)

I would apologise for the wait between this chapter and the last, but I did say this fic would be relatively slow in updates. I wrote a good chuck of this chapter then decided I hated it, took some time away from it, came back, then realised it wasn't as bad as I'd made out in my head lol. It's a pretty fluffy one tbh, and even if it's not as long as the previous one I hope you still enjoy!

It's on ao3, too!

Summary: Your relationship with Dutch deepens when you spend more time with him after a stressful week.

Word count: 6,471

Content warnings: smut, mildly creepy dutch

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8 | PART 9 | PART 10

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

Despite everyone’s knowledge of the end of the academic year, not one of your group of friends took the responsibility of arranging the flat for you to all live in together for second year. So, once again, you and Karen were in the same one - with John, Abigail, Sean, and Javier across the hall in theirs. You didn’t mind much; you were all too deep in the habit of leaving your flats unlocked anyway so the others could wander in should they please. It was dumb, but you hadn’t been robbed yet and imagined that’s what it would take for you to change your ways. 

Abigail had made extra dinner and you were the first to claim the portion, skipping across the hall and ambling in with a grin on your face. The two of you ate and chatted with the TV filling the background noise. Karen had joined not long after, and the three of you found yourselves sprawled on the sofa, tired from a full day.  

Second year was noticeably harder, no more easing you into university life – the theory and assignments were tough. However, thanks to your hard work in the previous semester it wasn’t an impossible leap. It had been for some, Javier regularly coming around in an attempt to inconspicuously copy your coursework.  

Just as you were mentally preparing yourself for the next day, the last before the weekend, your phone buzzed. 

Naughty girl. 

Dutch. You cleared your throat, pausing a moment before opening his message. He hadn’t taken any liberties with his possession of your phone number, and your inbox had been decidedly empty since the last time you saw him. 

?? 

Was this the old-person way of flirting? Was it sexting? Hopefully, your response would allow room for clarification. 

I was just in my photo gallery. 

Oh. You smiled to yourself. Another message. 

I almost dropped my phone. 

Sorry, won’t happen again. 

It better happen again, miss. I’ve already made good use of it, and now I’m in need of more. 

Good god, the thought of him pleasuring himself to a photo of you brought heat all over your neck. “I’m just gonna use your bathroom,” you stood up to excuse yourself, getting no response from your friends. 

Once inside, you looked around, knowing full well it was empty and quickly flicked the lock on the door, before pulling your top over your head. Glancing over your reflection in the mirror, you tried to figure out the best angle that’d reveal enough but not too much. 

Eventually, you got an angle you were happy with, only your jaw in view and your tits on full display. You cropped the photo (including your bottom half was a bit too much, right now at least) when his name appeared in your notification bar again. 

Too far? 

Bless him, he could see you’d read his message but left him without a response for ten minutes. Without giving yourself time to chicken out, you sent the picture to him. 

Sorry, I was distracted. 

He read it instantly, and it took a full minute before you could see he was typing. Then the dots disappeared. Then reappeared. Then disappeared again. You smiled to yourself, pulling your top over your head and flushing the toilet for good measure, before venturing back out and returning to the sofa. Dutch finally decided on what to say once you’d made yourself comfy. 

Come see me this weekend. 

If only. A weekend being fucked repeatedly was just what you needed, exhaustion already settling into your mind thanks to your busy schedule being back in action. Unfortunately, said schedule was exactly why you couldn’t. 

Can’t, sorry. I’m working tomorrow and Saturday. 

Fuck work. I’ll pay you. 

“What are you smiling at?” 

You glanced up, Karen looking at you inquisitively, Abigail taking her attention off the TV in turn to see what the fuss was. 

“Nothing?” you said casually. 

“You’ve been grinning at that phone of yours for five minutes.” 

“I have not been grinning.”  

She raised a brow, the look on her face turning to intrigue. 

“Please tell me it’s a guy. Or a girl. Or anything with a pulse,” Abigail pleaded, and you tutted while Karen cackled. 

“I’ve told you I don’t have time for that crap! Besides, I’m perfectly fine as I am,” you said defensively, folding your arms and ignoring the buzz of a message on your phone. 

“We all need a good screw now and again,” Karen said plainly, Abigail nodding in agreement. 

Don’t we just. “Oh, and Maquire is providing that service well enough for you, is he?” 

She shot you a glare, and as she was about to retort the main door opened, the man himself trailed by Javier and John. 

“Yeah, alright,” John said, his phone held up against his ear while he set the bag of shopping on the counter. 

“Hello ladies,” Javier greeted you all, beginning to put away their communal shop which was pathetically void of nutrients and taken up mostly by cans of beer. 

Sean pulled off his boots, hopping a little before it gave and sighing proudly when it did. “Any of you want a drink?” 

You shook your head, as did Abigail, but Karen held her hand out. 

“Ah, that’s why I love ya,” he grinned, handing a can out to Karen who scoffed in disgust before snatching it from him. 

“Okay, fine, yeah. I can do that. See you later,” John said, hanging up his call and letting his phone drop into his pocket. 

“Everything okay?” Abigail asked while John played tetris stacking the beers in the fridge. 

“Yeah, just my dad. He’s coming down this weekend.” 

That got your attention. Surely not - 

“Says Tilly’s been angling to see the city. He was just checking I was free to spend time with them.” 

“Aw,” Abigail sat up, “will we get to see them?” 

John shrugged, and your phone buzzed again. 

I’m serious. read Dutch’s previous message to you, followed by his most recent one: Looking forward to seeing you. 

You neglected to respond just yet, not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself. That man worked fast.  

“Where are you gonna take them?” 

“God knows. Knowing Dad,” John sat down beside Abigail, “he’ll have already drafted up a full itinerary.” 

You smirked at the thought, a warmth growing in your chest. 

- 

Dutch was fond of John’s friends. They were a decent bunch, and he’d been glad to see their familiar faces when he and Tilly arrived in the city the next morning, dropping their bags at the hotel before coming to visit John’s flat. He reminded himself repeatedly not to comment on the lack of cleanliness students seemed to thrive in. 

It was nice to see John, along with Javier who he’d watched grow up with his son. Abigail was extra friendly, and thanks to a little birdie he understood why. She was a nice girl. They were all nice. But the one he wanted to see the most was unfortunately yet to descend on the flat despite John’s assurance that everyone swings round all the time.  

“I’m going out for a cigarette,” Dutch announced, departing the flat and being met with the doorway to yours opposite him. He tried his luck, finding it unlocked, and mentally chastised you for being careless. He wasn’t sure which room was yours, though he thought it a good enough excuse to have wandered into the wrong flat should anyone ask. Two of the doors were ajar, and after a peek, he found them empty. The flat was quiet, and he decided there was no harm in trying the closed ones. He knocked on the next door, getting no response and so pushing it open. 

Dutch smiled to himself as the air entered his nose; it smelled just like you.  

Thanks to the strange layout, he could see the end of your bed and a slight bump under the duvet where your feet lay. “Tut tut,” he hummed as he took a couple of steps in, “you really should keep it locked – oh.” 

His brows pulled together as his voice died in his mouth at the sight of you fast asleep and bundled up in your bed, completely flat out. He debated waking you but was distracted by seeing the inside of your room for the first time. A little nosy never hurt anybody.  

Hands in his pockets, he observed the pictures up on your wall and smiled fondly at the ones including his drunken son. Then, he glanced over the perfume bottles lined up near your small desk mirror, then to the books and paper laid out beside your laptop accompanied by an empty mug from the previous day. It was then that he turned his attention back to you, hair ruffled with one arm out of the covers. 

Dutch sat on the edge of your bed and brushed a strand of hair from your peaceful face. It was enough to make you stir, and you cranked your eyes open. He smirked as he observed your expression, going from alarmed to relaxed when you realised it was him, then back to alarmed when you realised it was him.  

“You really should lock your flat, and your door,” he greeted. 

You rubbed your eyes, wondering if the man had come to visit you in a dream though it felt undeniably real as you remembered your conversation with John the previous day.  “Or perhaps,” you said around a yawn, “strange men shouldn’t let themselves in and sit on my bed.” 

“Strange men?” Dutch looked mildly offended. “I’d hate to know what you do with familiar men.” 

“Very funny,” you grumbled, pulling the covers up to your neck. “What time is it?” 

“Ten thirty. I didn’t think you were one to sleep in late.” His hand rested on your lower leg, and the added pressure was soothing and lessened your motivation further for starting your day. 

“I’m not. But I’ve got a long day today, so I’m treating myself,” you shut your eyes and felt Dutch shift his weight on the bed. You felt his warmth over you before you felt the kiss he pressed to your cheek, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sweetness of it. It awoke other unsavoury sensations that you usually repressed in the morning. 

It was as though he sensed it, brushing his hand up your leg and moving to kiss your jaw, an added tenderness compared to its predecessor. You sighed contently, the comfort of Dutch’s soft chuckle reaching your ears. There was no option but to give in, your eyes fluttering open as you shifted onto your back, allowing Dutch to manoeuvre himself on top of you. His face filled with pride, but when he moved in to kiss you, you put your hand up as a barricade.  

“I haven’t brushed my teeth,” you explained, and he huffed a laugh. 

“I could care less. But, if you insist,” his hand travelled further up the path of your body, cupping your breast as his lips tended to your neck instead, which you bared for him gladly. 

“Was it really worth coming all this way?” you asked, lazily watching him trail his lips around your skin. 

“Of course,” he said, hardly breaking his path, “need I remind you of my lack of interest in desiring a thing. I prefer -” 

“- to have it, right.” Dutch smiled up at you, and the tardy realisation hit you that you were now finishing his sentences. “How was the drive up?” you asked quickly, hoping to alleviate any teasing forming in his mind. 

“Just swell,” he answered, trailing his hand underneath your pyjama top to knead your breasts. His fingers moved gently in circles, testing your tenderness as they neared your nipple and lightly tweaking the now erect buds. Then his mouth came down over the fabric, and he sucked one into his mouth, leaving a wet patch behind that he eyed fondly once he was done. 

“You know,” you set up on your elbows, craning your neck to look at the door, “I really should lock my door. Just in case.” 

Dutch placed his palm on your chest, applying pressure until you lay back down. “No no, you want to leave it unlocked, then you leave it unlocked.” 

“I’m serious,” you attempted to sit up again but damn he was strong, “John lets himself in all the time.” 

“Does he,” Dutch hummed, moving his head down to suck your nipple in again and released, “I ought to teach the boy some manners.” 

“Dutch, it’s not funny. Let me lock the -” 

As you tried to sit up Dutch applied his full weight onto you and mouthed at your neck while all the air was knocked from your lungs. Strong and heavy. It would be a comfort if you could only breathe, and grumbled incoherently at your body’s response to being trapped by him despite the danger of the situation.  

“Now,” Dutch cooed, lifting his head and running his thumb along your chin, “don’t you worry. I’ve been fit to burst since you sent me those pictures.” 

“I thought you -” 

“I did, but it’s not the same.” With that, he eased off slightly as you gradually accepted this was a risk you’d just have to take, and wrapped his hand around your inner thigh to shift your legs apart. “Huh, looks like I’m not the only one.” 

You frowned down to observe what he was looking at and were met with the moist material of your pyjama shorts. “Goddamnit.” 

Dutch chuckled while he trailed his fingers up and down your mound, and it wasn’t long before you were grinding up in time with his movements. He always seemed to know the exact pressure and pace you wanted, and often reigned it back some so as to keep you frustrated. You were about to ask him to get on with it, considering the risk and limited time you had before your day started, when he removed his hand to undo his jeans and pull out his frustrated-looking cock. The man didn’t even look at you, nor give you any warning, before moving your shorts to the side and sliding right in. And curse your body once again, allowing him the smoothest of passages. 

A sigh of relief left him, the sort one would make when sinking into a hot bath. He stayed there a moment, nosing at your neck and brushing his palm down your flank to your shorts, the fabric of which he bunched up in his hand. At least you weren’t wearing any underwear he would inevitably steal. 

“How could this not be worth the journey,” he mused, and you realised he was in fact talking to himself. Still, you sighed out a laugh. 

Dutch moved his torso off yours, straightening up to grab your outer thighs in each hand. His grip was tight, bruising almost, and he held you right where he wanted you as he pulled out and began thrusting in a slow, deep rhythm. His head tipped back, and you stayed watching him, the euphoric pleasure seeping over his face enough to keep you lubricated down below. It truly was nice to know you were the cause of such a response. Well, your body, at least. 

“Now,” his heavy gaze met yours, and he leaned forward to plant one hand on your headboard and left the other gripping your hip, “let’s get to it, shall we?” 

There was no room to answer before he deepened his thrusts, his thick cock thoroughly filling you. He was perfectly anchored to the bed and you, and being leant forward slightly enabled him to brush over the plush, pulsating spot inside you repeatedly. Swiftly building up your impending orgasm, you thanked your accommodation for not giving you squeaky beds despite their questionable quality.   

Dutch’s grunts sounded at the same time as his thrusts, his lips pressed together to limit any other noise and you did the same, quiet gasps leaving you on occasion. “You gonna come for me, pretty girl?” he asked through a laboured breath. 

“Mhm,” you answered and wrapped your legs around him, pulling him further in and it was the last bit of motivation he needed to fuck you into your mattress until silently you came, back arching and hands gripping the duvet beneath. Dutch continued to fuck into you while your orgasm ebbed away, and you bore through the over-stimulation until he pressed his hips as far forward as he could, filling you up as you felt his cock twitch inside you.  

Your breath evened out while he dropped his head forward to run a hand through his hair. “My memory did not do you justice.” 

“That right?” you tilted your head in amusement and he hummed his agreement while slowly pulling out and doing a poor job of catching his spend. Guess you’d be changing your sheets today.  

“Mind if I use your bathroom?” he asked and you gestured to the door to your ensuite in agreement. While he was there, you pulled some wipes out from your side table and cleaned yourself up. 

“What have you got planned for today?” you asked as he ventured back in, doing up the fasten of his belt. 

“Probably get some food, walk around and see what we can find,” he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, gesturing to your fire alarm that was tactically covered by a sock. “You really are a naughty girl.” 

You snorted a laugh and sat up, while he leaned on your desk and cracked your window open to blow the smoke out. “Are they not going to wonder where you are now?” 

“I told them I was going for a cigarette.” 

“Huh, smart.” 

He raised his brows in agreement as he took another drag. “What time are you working until today?” 

“Late,” you shrugged. “I’m on until close.” 

Dutch tutted. “Well, my hotel isn’t far from your work, so you may as well stay with me. I’ll wait up.” 

“I don’t recall telling you where I worked.” 

He smirked, tapping the ash out the window. “You didn’t.” 

“Then how -” 

“I have my ways. I can be rather resourceful when I want to be.” 

“No shit,” you scoffed, ignoring the slight creepiness of him having that knowledge. “But no, thank you, I’ll be too tired.” 

“The hotel bed is very comfortable.” 

“I said no. Besides, you have Tilly with you,” you said, Dutch shifting his position to be half-seated on your desk. 

“She has her own room.” After a final drag, he stubbed out his cigarette and flicked it out your window. He walked over and sat on your bed again, taking your hand in his. “Just consider it?” 

“Fine,” you acquiesced, “I will see how I feel after my shift.” 

“That’s my girl,” he said, a pleased smile forming on his face and moved in to kiss your cheek before standing. “Be sure to say bye before you head off.” 

“Whatever you say,” you rolled your eyes, and with that, he departed, and the urge to shower became urgent. 

You had ten minutes to spare after getting washed and dressed, and couldn’t find anything to busy yourself with so you ended up visiting John’s flat after all. Your friends were all there when you entered, Tilly offered you a hug, and Mr Van der Linde greeted you casually when you entered the flat, like he hadn’t been pounding into you less than an hour ago. 

“Here she is,” John smiled, “you feeling better?” 

Dutch’s expression hardened so fast you could feel it, and you grumbled internally at John once again unintentionally putting his foot in it. “Yeah, fine,” you said quickly, “just needed some sleep.” 

“Perhaps you should skip some lectures and catch up some more,” John teased. 

“You’re actually going?” Javier scoffed from the sofa, taking his attention away from Tilly’s phone where she appeared to be showing him a video. 

“You know I have to,” you deflected, walking over to sit on the arm of the sofa beside him. 

“Eighty percent, you can stand to miss a few.” 

With a playful tilt of your head, you raised your brows accusingly. “Not worth getting into the habit.” 

“Get me a copy of the notes?” he asked sweetly, smiling up at you and taking your hand in his to place a kiss on the back of it. As always, you could never resist, nodding your understanding with a smirk. “Ah, Mr Van der Linde -” Javier’s expression dropped as he look at the man in question, “don’t tell my pa, okay?” 

Before he could respond, Sean decided to get a word in. “My da doesn’t mind me not going, says it’s better I don’t get my head filled by those pompous academic types. N-no offence, Mr Van der Linde,” he held his arms up placatingly. 

“Now, why would I be offended by that?” he asked, genuinely, though Sean visibly began to sweat. 

“No reason! No reason at all -” 

“And on that note,” you cleared your throat, deciding to save Sean before he inevitably fell further into his self-made hole. “I should get going. Nice to see you both again,” you said, mainly to Tilly, and hoped Dutch’s devious expression in response wasn’t as noticeable to anyone else. 

- 

If another person asked you to make a cocktail, you’d scream. It’s a Friday, do these people not know how filled to the brim with students this place was? You weren’t even sure why you offered cocktails at this stupid hour; everyone was too inebriated to even appreciate it, and who needs to spend extra on a drink when they’re out to get as plastered as they can, anyway? Just order a shot and be done with it - 

“Whiskey old-fashioned, please.” 

You turned, half-ready to lose your job for punching a patron and were met with a smiling Dutch on the other side of the bar. 

“Seriously?” you gestured around yourself, both as to why he’d ordered that and why he was there in the first place. 

“Why not?” 

“It’s busy,” you grumbled, making an exasperated show of preparing the glass. 

“Fine,” he chuckled, “just a double on ice will do.” 

You offered him a grateful smile, scooping a few ice cubes out of the tray.  

“Do you always speak to customers that way?” 

“Only the annoying ones,” you shrugged. 

“I’m in half a mind to tell your manager,” he raised his brows, leaning on the bar in a way that enhanced his arms as his burgundy shirt stretched around them. 

“Do that and I’ll ask you for ID. You forget I also have the power to withhold... other things,” you slid the drink over to him, and as you were about to announce the total, he handed you a twenty. “It doesn’t cost that much.” 

“It’s a tip.” 

“No,” you lamented, refusing to be his charity case, “it all goes in a pot anyway.” 

“Consider it an apology for my being a difficult customer,” he answered immediately. “And as a sweetener, so you don’t withhold your oh so generous offerings.” 

You tutted and placed the change to sit stubbornly in front of him on the bar. “I -” your attention was pulled to someone new coming up to the bar, “hold on a second.” 

After pouring out two vodka cokes for them, you returned to Dutch. “Where’s John and Tilly?” 

“John’s back at his flat, I think, and Tilly’s sleeping at the hotel,” he sipped at his drink, and you smirked as he tried to hide that this whiskey was not as fancy as his palate was used to.  

“Will Tilly be alright on her own?” you asked. 

“Of course. I plan to return soon anyway; I just need to pick something up first.” 

“What do you need to – oh,” you realised what – or rather who – he was referring to. “I haven’t agreed to come back with you. Besides, I’m still working.” 

“When do you usually finish?” 

“When everyone leaves,” you narrowed your gaze at him accusingly. 

“Ah,” he hummed in amusement. “It appears to be quietening down.” 

He was right. The crowd was certainly beginning to thin out, and you hoped that in true student fashion, they would all leave to go somewhere busier once they noticed. “I still haven’t agreed.” 

Dutch’s response was the inching of his fingers closing to yours, brushing them over your own secretively. “I would really like you to.” 

“I’m really, really tired, Dutch.” 

“That’s fine, you can go straight to sleep,” at the raise of your brows, he continued with a smile that inched on his face, “I mean it.” 

“I could be a while,” you excused yourself further. 

He finished the last of his drink, pausing a beat before finishing it. “Just text me when you’re done. Otherwise, I’ll stay here until everyone else has left.” 

“Okay, alright,” you rubbed your brow, supposing it couldn’t be too bad if you did just go there to sleep. By now, your trust in him had grown to the point where you believed he would’ve put all the measures in place to ensure the two of you weren’t caught. “I’ll text you.” 

“Good,” he said, pleased, and stood. “I’ll be going now, then.” 

“You mean you don’t want another one of those?” you pointed to his empty glass. 

He gave you an almost weary look, and a laugh slipped from you. 

“I’m only kidding.” 

He shook his head, and for the briefest of moments your heart skipped as you saw his rare, genuine smile. 

“See you later,” you concluded the conversation. 

Dutch folded his jacket over the arm and offered you a secretive wink. “I look forward to it.” 

- 

It was another hour before the bar closed, and you swiftly grabbed your bag from the back room, pulling your phone out to message Dutch at the earliest opportunity. 

You opted for waiting outside, a small way down the street in case any of your colleagues caught you swanning off with an older man who’d visited the bar. He didn’t leave you waiting for long. 

“That was sooner than I expected,” he greeted you, and on the short walk to the hotel, you answered his questions about how your shift went. 

“This is an expensive hotel,” you slowed on the approach, and Dutch rested his hand comfortably on your lower back. Somehow, you always seemed to forget just how rich he was. 

“You think they won’t let you in?” he teased, and you nodded genuinely. “Relax, darling.” 

That worked. Your body softened involuntarily, and walking in with him felt natural, easy. What you’d expected otherwise you weren’t sure, still hyper-aware of how you must look to a passer-by at this moment. Or perhaps they didn’t care. Dutch certainly didn’t. 

The two of you took the lift, walking down the well-decorated hallway until Dutch stopped and swiped his card on a door. You let out a breath once inside, kicking off your shoes and sitting on the edge of the bed without a second thought.  

“You and Javier seem to have an interesting relationship,” he commented, untying his shiny black shoes and placing them neatly by the door. 

“What do you mean by that?” you asked defensively. 

Dutch shrugged casually, clearly a façade. “You seem close. I wondered if there was anything there.” 

You scowled at him, too tired for this line of questioning. “Obviously not -” you paused, remembering yourself despite your newfound anger. “Well, we might’ve had a drunken kiss on our first week, but it didn’t progress beyond that.” 

“Hm. I thought as much.” 

“What is wrong with you?” you said sharply, “why would you ask that?” 

“I was only curious,” he held his hands up before unbuttoning his shirt. “I didn’t realise it was a crime to ask.” 

“It’s not. You’ve no right to be jealous.” 

“Who said I was?” he asked, leaning into a chuckle and it only aggravated you even more. 

You huffed out some of your anger. “It’s pretty obvious. I’m not stupid. And you’re not as good at hiding things as you think.” 

His face altered from unbothered to mildly entertained. “I don’t see why you’re getting so defensive. It was only a question.” 

Your mouth opened to let a retort pass through, but none came. The fucker wasn’t wrong, he had only asked. In your exhausted state, you questioned whether you’d read too much into it, and frowned at the ground while rubbing the stress from your brow. Keeping so much contained was a problem in times like this, when emotions escaped out into the world. “I don’t - I just -” you began, feeling yourself getting worked up. 

“Okay, alright, darling. Come here,” Dutch sat beside you, opening his arms and you tucked yourself into the warm embrace. 

“Sorry,” you sighed quietly, “this is why I didn’t want to come. I get grouchy when I’m tired.” 

“I can tell,” he teased, but the kiss placed on the crown of your head balanced it out. “You’ve been sick, John said?” 

“Not sick. Just tired this week, that’s all.” 

Dutch paused, tightening his arms around you. “It doesn’t look like you’re going to have any time to rest in the near future.” 

“I’ll take a weekend off work at something,” you mumbled, almost on autopilot as it wasn’t the first time you’d been berated for being too much of a try-hard. 

“Why do I get the impression you’re lying?” he asked gently, and your responding laugh was mirthless. “I like most things about you, except this.” 

“Except what?” you asked, resting your head on his shoulder to catch his eyes. 

“This incessant need you have to work yourself to fatigue. It’s unhealthy.” 

“It’s temporary,” you insisted. 

“If you would only let me -” 

“Don’t you dare offer me money again.” That was a place you’d never go to, a sense of pride far too strong to accept his help. You could do it. You just... need to complain occasionally. And maybe have someone that could help alleviate the stress using tried and true methods. “Wait, you said most. What else don’t you like about me?” 

He paused, as though he hadn’t expected that question. “I suppose how little time I get to spend with you.” 

“That’s a cop-out.” 

Dutch laughed, releasing you from his embrace and standing to continue getting undressed. A feeling resembling awe settled in your body at how proudly he stood, in only his underwear, while finding a pair of joggers to wear for bed. He hooked his thumbs into the band of his pants but paused, slyly looking over his shoulder at you. You swiftly averted your gaze. 

“You’re allowed to look, I don’t mind,” he said with amusement, and you only looked back once you’d heard his underwear come off and joggers come on. You were far too tired to go another round, but you feared your body would decide otherwise if you caught a glance of him fully nude. “Here,” he passed a plain t-shirt to you, “I suspect you don’t have anything to wear.” After you took it, his face fell slightly. “Not that I mind you sleeping with nothing on.” 

You rolled your eyes at his teasing, for whatever reason wanting to get dressed where he couldn’t see. “Does the hotel have spare toothbrushes?” 

“Sure, in the bathroom,” he pulled back the cover of the bed and got in, clasping his hands over his stomach. “Help yourself to whatever.” 

You did, brushing your teeth, washing your face, and changing into Dutch’s t-shirt. It was clean, but it still held his underlying scent. He was in the same position when you re-entered the bedroom and lifted the covers for you to get in. “Thanks,” you said, laying down and marvelling at how soft the bed was, a yawn escaping thanks to your newfound comfort. 

Dutch reached over and flicked the switches above the side table, turning off all the lights except the lamp next to him. Then, he brushed the back of his knuckle tenderly over your temple, and it took all you had to fight an immediate descent into sleep. You took the opportunity to shuffle closer to him, and he extended his arm so you could lay on his chest while he was propped up a little against the headboard. “Get some sleep, now,” he said, his voice a quiet rumble in the low light of the room. 

As you melted into him some more, the bare skin of his chest warm and soothing, he put on his glasses from the bedside table and picked up his book. “Aren’t you sleeping?” 

“I’ll sleep better if I read a little first. Don’t mind me, though.” 

“Okay.” You pecked his lips, and once you were re-settled on his chest sleep came easier than ever. 

- 

The gentle motion of fingertips slowly grazing the middle of your back was the first sensation to greet you upon awakening, and you blinked your eyes open to the hazy filter of morning sun through the window. You were nestled comfortably into Dutch, still using his chest as a pillow and glanced up, finding the man himself in somewhat of a daydream as he looked out the window. He noticed the small movement, though, and offered you a warm smile. “Morning.” 

“Morning,” you half-yawned, stubbornly closing your eyes to nestle further into his chest. How he was more comfortable than the bed itself you weren’t sure. 

“Sleep well?” he asked. 

“Like a log. You?” 

“Just fine. You’re nice to wake up to.” He placed his palm flat on your back, holding you to him. 

“You aren’t so bad yourself. What time are you seeing John today?” 

“I think we’re going for a late breakfast; I suppose whenever he’s ready. We have a bit of time, if you want anything brought up to the room?” 

“No, no, I’m okay. Thanks though. Actually,” you shifted up onto your elbow, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and internally deciding you preferred Dutch’s hair in the morning, a little messy from the night. “I wouldn’t mind using that shower.” 

“Be my guest,” he said politely. It was nice to lay like this with him, you’d expected him to have his hands all over you as soon as you’d awoken, though perhaps he was tired. If anything, he was more reserved than usual, and you hoped he wasn’t beginning to have second thoughts. You knew better than to question him first thing in the morning and moved to a seated position before swinging your legs off the bed.  

“Appreciate it.” You picked your clothes up from their crumpled heap on the floor and carried them into the bathroom with you before having the most glorious shower you’d had in some time.  

Checking your phone once you were finished, you realised you’d been in the bathroom for a full thirty minutes. Whoops. 

“Sorry,” you said as soon as you opened the door, Dutch seated on the bed, now dressed and rolling up his sleeves. “That shower was a little too nice.” 

The smile Dutch offered you was warmer, more awake, and more like himself than he had been previously. “Good,” he offered out his hand which you promptly took and pulled you towards him to stand between his legs, and he wrapped his arms around your lower back. “I’d say you’ve earned it.” 

You chuckled easily, glad to find out nothing was wrong, and he simply hadn’t woken up yet.  

“What time are you working?” he asked, while you ran a hand through his hair and settled it on his shoulder. 

“Early afternoon. I’m off tomorrow, but I’ve got work to do – what time are you leaving?” 

“About midday. Don’t worry about it,” he placed a kiss on your sternum, “I’d prefer it if you rested instead.” 

“I’ll try,” you nodded with a snort. 

“I would like,” he stood up, holding your hands in his, “to see you more frequently, if possible.” 

“I’d like that,” you looked up at him, and the deal was sealed with a kiss. “I’m not sure exactly when, but -” 

“We’ll work something out. I have your number,” he said conspiratorially, an alluring half-smile making him even more irresistible than he already was. “But I fear Tilly will be up soon, I don’t want her catching you on the way out.” 

“Good call,” you agreed, breaking out of the embrace to pick up your bag and double-check you hadn’t forgotten anything. “Have a good weekend.” 

“We will,” he pulled you in for a kiss, one that was tender and slow and left you a little breathless once you’d parted your lips from his. “Thanks for coming to stay with me.” 

“I’ve got to do my part for the community,” you shrugged, and his face dropped into playful annoyance. 

“Oh, that’s how it is?” 

You laughed, edging towards the door though he managed to pat your ass in reprimand before you were out of reach. “I might add this to my volunteering work on my CV, come to think of it.” 

Dutch laughed heartily, pressing his tongue into his cheek and shaking his head. “You truly can be a wicked woman.” 

With a proud, final smile, you stepped forward for a kiss goodbye then opened the door, checking the coast was clear before stepping out. At the risk of Tilly hearing you, you offered Dutch a simple nod before departing, which he returned. 

It wasn’t a short walk back to your accommodation, but it wasn’t long, either. The weather was good, and you were thankful it’d been nice for Dutch and Tilly’s visit up. It wasn’t lost on you that there was a slight spring in your step, every meeting with Dutch making your heart feel that extra bit lighter, and life feel an extra bit more accommodating. After last time, you’d attributed it to the sex, to the rush and release that was a rarity in your everyday. But perhaps it was him, and while this newfound feeling was a nice one to experience, the low hum of guilt and the prospect of where this avenue of exploration would lead you left a slightly bitter taste in your mouth.  

There was a possibility that Dutch’s philosophical suggestions were imprinting on you, but you actively decided not to dwell on the many possibilities and instead focus on that, for now, you had something that made your chest grow warm and your breath seep from your lungs. Perhaps this was what you were missing, a way to dispel your worries and fears even for a short while. And perhaps, on some level, this was something you deserved. 

[matchstickdolly]

So long, farewell! 💜 I won't be posting from this account anymore. To close it out, here is a roundup of my Lucifer fan works, as I think that's how most came to find me here.

You will need an AO3 account to read most of my stories; it's relatively easy to sign up if you don't have one. Though I'm gone from here and elsewhere in the Lucifer fandom, I will continue to read comments and attempt to reply to them, so please consider sharing these fics and commenting your thoughts on AO3!

LONG READS (20,000+ words)

A Refraction of Light

314k words. My giant post-S3 canon divergence that spans Earth, Hell, and Heaven. If you didn't like Lucifer's Netflix era (the last three seasons) or wished there were more power couple vibes for Deckerstar, you might enjoy AROL. Though I finished it in 2020, after S4 had aired, I think it works quite well as a S4-S6 fix-it for those who'd like one.

In Sorrow Thou Shalt Bring Forth Children

210k words. The 50 female-focused "blip" years Lucifer's finale conveniently left out, also several post-S6 chapters. Heavy angst surrounding family and spiritual trauma but aims to be cathartic by acknowledging pain. All that said, more humor and Deckerstar than you'd probably expect, given the CW tags.

Reins Series: Try My Reins and My Heart & As Certain Dark Things Are to Be Loved

35k words when read together. Porn with feelings/plot. Fun, sweet kinkiness that should be read in order. Dominant!Lucifer because I struggle to see the Devil otherwise and because Chloe deserves a fucking break in the care of her sex god beau.

In a Similar Vein

21k words. Funny, sweet, and absurd S1 divergence wherein Chloe becomes (very wrongly) convinced that Lucifer is a vampire. Alas, it is missing the last chapter.

Chloe KNOWS

20k words. Funny, sweet, sexy S2 divergence in which Chloe accidentally gets a devil reveal when she stumbles upon an ageless Lucifer in vintage pornography. Oops.

MEDIUM READS (5,000 to 20,000 words)

If the Shoe Fits & In the Family Way

14k words when read together. Alternate post-5B/S6. Feel-good, funny, fluffy, even sexy. Godifer and Mrs. G being good partners, parents, and Improvers of the Universe. If you need a sweet, positive fix-it for the end of Lucifer, these fics might fit the bill.

Rebound to You

12k words. Feel-good, funny, sexy AU where Lucifer is still the Devil, but he and Chloe didn't meet as in canon. Instead, they meet a couple of years later, after Lucifer has naturally gotten a phone and Chloe has divorced Dan and is now resorting to dating apps to meet people. Features a fun gimmick of Tinder-like chat logs (used sparingly, I promise).

Something More & Pump It Up

11k words when read together. These two canon compliant fics won't seem like they go together at first, but I promise they do (thematically). Both are pre-canon and about the subtle ways in which Lucifer and Chloe are an amusingly great match. They just haven't met (yet) to know it! The first story is sweet and about Jed and Chloe's relationship; basically a character study of Chloe as told from Jed's POV. The second is a bit of a sex farce about Lucifer watching Hot Tub High School after settling in L.A., but it's also porn with plot or at least a character study.

Not to Mii

10k words. Lucifer sticks around at the end of S3's "The Last Heartbreak." One thing leads to another, and you get strip Mario Kart. I promise it works.

The Fine Line Between Desire and Fear

10k words. Feel-good and silly post-5A divergence featuring a haunted mansion on Halloween. Almost solely Deckerstar-focused but also imagines a future where Michael is trying to redeem himself and earn Ella's affection; the only problem is that he's afraid...of a lot, actually. The irony!

Sweet and Sour

10k words. A comical Michael/Ella fic based on the 5A trailer. Turned out to be rather in-character for many aspects of Michael, so it holds up, I think.

Now That's What I Call Big Devil Energy! Series: Big Devil Energy & Satan's Got a Heart On

9k words when read together. Funny, sweet chaos. Lucifer being a completely over-the-top Devil in love.

All You Can Play

9k words but really more like 3k if you want the finished part of the fic. (First chapter can stand alone; don’t read past it if you don’t like unfinished work.) Chaotic humor, sex farce. Canon compliant missing scene wherein I will tell you not to hate the player (me) but the game (S3). The reason Lucifer isn't there to protect Chloe at the end of 03x04? He's with Lexy, the judge's soon-to-be ex-wife. This is that story. Featuring Chuck E. Cheese.

Bound by Iniquity

8k words. Dark 5A canon divergence from Maze's POV. Her dirty dealmaking with Michael backfires, big time.

Get Thee Behind Me

7k words. Porn with plot/feelings. Lucifer and Chloe try anal sex for the first time. Feel-good comedy ensues.

Baptized by Desire

7k words. Dark but sweet S3 divergence. Lucifer comes to believe he really is a delusional human while he's in the psychiatric hospital in "God Johnson."

Hells to Betsy

6k words. Answering the question of how Chloe afforded a large three-bedroom townhouse in L.A., especially once Maze moved out. Come on! Detectives are paid well but not that well!

Darkest Before Dawn

5k words. Sweet, funny, sexy wing fic. No wing oil, but there's a barrel of crude oil and Dawn dishwashing liquid. This is not an ad.

SHORT READS (<5,000 words)

The Dotted Line

4k words. Porn without plot. Lucifer is attracted to Chloe in anything, even undies from Target.

Checked Baggage

4k words. Porn with light plot. What if Chloe took up Jana's offer for a threesome, partly out of spite? Bisexual chaos that is still ultimately very much about Deckerstar.

Winging It & Made in His Image

4k words when read together. Both are chaotic sex farces that wax on about the Devil's dick. They must be read in order.

Reefer Gladness Series: Flying High & Baked with Love

3k words when together. Sweet fluff. Established Deckerstar getting high together.

Lunch at the Y

3k words. Porn without plot. Roughly set in a better post-5A world where Lucifer eats Chloe out in a dressing room because of course he would. That's a love language.

Those Who Favor Fire

2k words. Porn without plot. Roughly set in a better post-S3 world where Deckerstar have gotten their HEA and have been together for some ten years or so.

My God's House Has Many Rooms

2k words. S6's "happy" closeout is creepily vague to me. This story explores a horrific what-if.

Raising Hell

1k words. Porn without plot. An ode to the blowjob.

Use My Words Against Me

1k words. All dialogue, pure chaos. Caught up in yet another scandal, closeted Republican Senator Olin Graham asks the Devil for a favor. You'll only appreciate this if you know enough about American politics and aren't a fascist piece of shit. Sorry not sorry.

Earthly Delights on Borrowed Time

666 words. Post-S4 reimagining where Lucifer and Chloe are making things work.

The Perfect Help Meets

666 words. Dark, canon compliant one-shot about Lucifer's angst/depression as he tries to make things work with Eve, all while he's in love with Chloe.

Other Stuff

A softness came from the starlight and filled me full to the bone — Lucifer meets the comic A Softer World. Inspired by an old post by @casimania that can be found here.

General Fanvids — Deckerstar being painful and/or lovely, plus some Trixie because I love her character.

S6 Critical Fanvids — Just me making sense of S6's plot, which I cannot read as anything other than incredibly dark and anti-choice.

Crack Fanvids — Pure comedy and chaos.

Lucifer Season 6 Time Travel Visualizations — Lucifer S6 uses time travel without clearly laying out how it works. I made two visualizations to help explain the possibilities: one for the loop existing in a single timeline and another for the loop causing or being a part of many/parallel worlds.

Lucifer S6 Wiki — After Lucifer Season 5B and S6, I started digging into the writers’ interviews to understand what the hell had gone wrong. You'll find their answers to a lot of common S6 questions here. They’re real, er, interesting Hollywood folk, to say the least.

[stardust9905]

Hunter x Princess!Reader {Multi-Ch. Fic}:  "It’s Always Been You" [Part 2]

Synopsis:  Hunter has been hired to be your personal royal bodyguard for a few months now.  Amidst navigating secret crushes and the social pressures from your parents, regarding both Hunter’s and your own behaviours, things go sideways at one of the castle’s formal events.  Coming from a sheltered life, how will you cope and escape with Hunter?  Will you ever tell each other how you feel?  How will your parents react afterwards if you do?

WARNINGS:  Mentions themes of classism and racism (against Clones).  Mentions of misogynistic views of princesses’ behaviour.  Reader is fem!coded, and referred to with the pronouns “she/her”.  Reader wears a dress. Slightly suggestive mention of knife play (by Reader in a daydream); however it could also be interpreted as admiration for Hunter’s knife skills.  Slight angst and jealousy from Hunter.  Canon-based violence (blaster fire and hand-grenade).  No use of "Y/N". Mostly fluff throughout !! Plus, fluffy ending !!

Word Count:  1454

A/N:  Uploading [Part 2] right away because I literally wrote over like 4000 words before realizing how long it was getting lol ... My imagination ran wild with this one XD Hope you enjoy!!

Masterlist

:readmore:

Hunter slid behind cover, firing back at one of the perps again before making it under the same table as you.

… 

“Why should you be taught self-defense?  Princesses have more pressing matters to attend to that do not involve fooling around and running a muck.  What’s the point of hiring you a body guard then?” The King had ranted and raved to you, even in front of poor Hunter who’d been standing stock still at attention off to the side of the throne room.  

“You need to start getting your priorities straight, young lady.  You are a princess for Maker’s sake!  You do not need to be mingling with those of whom are lower than you.” 

“But Father–” 

“You will not speak out of turn–!” 

“–what if there comes a time that Sergeant Hunter, or one of the other guards, won’t be able to get to me fast enough?  Or worse if they get injured—even killed—in battle defending me?  I need to also be able to protect myself or them if it comes down to it–”.  

“Protect them?!  Protect them-?! Wha–?”  The King was flabbergasted as he made vague, careless gestures in Hunter’s direction.

“That clone isn’t worth your efforts.  If he needs you to protect him, or if he dies or gets hurt out in the field protecting you– then he was never competent enough for the job in the first place!”  At the time you’d been so shocked and heartbroken that you’d only stood in silence.

…

Remembering your father’s words stung.  You’d wished your mother had spoken out, though even then it may not have done much good anyways.  She may have in the end, but your head had been too busy trying not to cry in the moment, just tunnel-vision focused on your father’s audacity. 

You had never actually found out how Hunter had felt afterwards.  He was usually relatively quiet, all ‘dark & broody’ as you liked to joke with him.  But, even now, you’ve yet to know if that’s more due to personality or orders from your parents.

… 

Presently, you were so overwhelmed that you had covered your head with your arms.  You hadn’t even realized that you’d been muffling your screams with tears going down your delicate cheeks until you felt Hunter gently pry your arms away to help you breathe properly. 

It wasn’t for a lack of trying to be strong on your part.  It’s just that after having lived such a sheltered life, and not being able to learn any self-defense… Well, aside from a few small mishaps in the seedier parts of the villages, you’d never been in such a large emergency.

“We need to go.  Can you walk?  I could carry you, but it’d be better if I had my arms free to have my knife and blaster at the ready.”  Hunter spoke so controlled, so calmly that you believed you’d be safe with him.  You knew he was a highly capable super-soldier who didn’t become a sergeant for nothing.  He always seemed to find a way to make the world a little less scary. 

“I can walk…  Just wished I wasn’t in this damned heavy dress.”  You frowned down slightly at your attire.  You knew you looked good, but that didn’t help how inconvenient it was for anything other than aesthetics and showing socio-economic class status.

“Well, Princess, while that dress really does look good on you, if it isn’t too forward…  We could always cut the skirt shorter or remove a few layers if it really comes down to it.”

You could hear Hunter’s smirk and half-joking tone, and suddenly your heads spinning again for a whole different reason.  The title “Princess” never sounded better coming out of anyone else’s mouth until Hunter came along.  The idea of him using his sharp vibro–knife to slice the fabric off you like it was nothing–

“Hey, you payin’ attention?  Wanna repeat the plan back to me?”  Bringing you out of your reverie, Hunter knows the effect he has on you, but now isn’t the time for distractions.  No matter how badly he may want to indulge his or your fantasies.

“Uhhh… umm…” Your face heats up, praying and hoping your blush wasn’t showing too much.  Or that if it was, that it could be played off as you still feeling flushed from your current situation…  Which you supposed wasn’t technically incorrect no matter how you thought about it… 

Hunter catches you daydreaming again, getting caught up in that ol’ habit of overthinking.

“Things are still chaotic, but we’re going to use that to our advantage to escape.  Hopefully unnoticed by the bad guy, okay?”

“Okay” You’re back to being uncertain, but you have faith in Hunter.

“We’re not going back to your room–” 

“Wha– Why–?”

“–it’s too much of a predictable location to hold over in.”

“Oh.”  You almost seem disappointed, but you supposed it made sense.  The blasts happened close enough to you that it made sense to figure you were the target.  Either the perp had missed, or wanted to distract everyone while they went after your parents.

Hunter felt a twinge of sympathy for you.  While he’d been relentlessly trained on how to handle stressful, life or death circumstances, you hadn’t.  And now your own home’s safety was—quite literally—obliterated before your very eyes instantaneously. 

“We’re making a break for the armoury.  There’s passages in the castle down there for the help-staff and castle-guards to use to get around the castle.  When I took on this assignment, my brother Tech helped me memorize the layout just in case. Good thing too since we can use it to lose the bomber.  They’re easy to get lost in if you don’t know your way around.  Lucky for us, my specialty is tracking and stealth.”

“Just like your namesake, right?”  You asked tentatively, only just coming to the revelation that he may have earned the name ‘Hunter’, rather than picking it out as a nat-born name.

“Yes.” Hunter says patiently.  “Here, take these”.  Hunter hands you a smaller blaster and vibroknife.  “Just click here to turn the safety back on–”

“The safety’s already off–?!”

“Ner cyar’ika– (My sweetheart)” Hunter coughs.  “Princess, it’s a small blaster and I don’t have time to teach you how to properly use it.  Point, shoot, fire multiple times if you have to.  Don’t bother aiming for their limbs or head.  You’ve had no practice and they can move those parts of them out of the way too easily.  Aim centre-mass, where their heart is–”

Hunter rolls onto his side to show you on himself.  “The centre of their chest is a bigger target, and more likely to kill—or at least slow them down a lot.”

You’re getting overwhelmed again.  So much so that you just barely register that Hunter almost called you something in mando’a.  ‘I’ll have to ask him about that later’

“Breathe for me okay?  Your feelings are valid, but right now we need to go.  I’m pretty sure the only reason we haven’t been caught yet is because people are still panicking around us.”

“Okay.”  Your breaths are still shallow and laboured, but your more focused.

Hunter takes a few seconds to spy through the slim gap between the floor and tablecloth to survey if anyone stands out.  “On my signal, we move out, duck and run with the crowd towards the back entrance under the grand stairwell, understood?”

Hunter is back to using his “Sergeant voice”.  Any other situation you might’ve swooned over how commanding he could be.  Right now, you just thanked your lucky stars he knew what to do.  ‘Another thing to ask him should be secret self-defense lessons if we survive this.’

“Go!”  

Hunter rolls out before you and, as soon as you’re out too, he’s helping you up and guiding you to run in front of him through the masses.  This way he’s watching your back and is still able to aim over your shoulder if he needs to.

You’re clutching the front of your dress by your non-dominant hand so you don’t trip, while the other holds the blaster.  You hope not to use it, but right now almost anything goes.

You both make it under the stairs and Hunter’s ramming his fist into the trigger to open it.  You duck into the passage while Hunter locks it from the inside and shoots the panel for good measure.  It won’t hold for long if the perp figures out where you went, but it’ll buy you both some more time.  

Inside, you keep running down the halls, thanking the Maker you’re not wearing stilettos for once.  You’re still wearing heels, but at least there’s less chances of twisting your ankles.  

《 Part 1 | Part 3 》

***Reblogs keep posts alive, hashtags help the post continue to garner love. Feedback through comments is always welcome, and of course, likes are appreciated too. Thank you so much for reading!!! ☆♡☆ ~Ka'ra

[domini-porter]

🍓🥭🍐! (ooh it's a streetlight)

🍓: I don’t really feel like anything is underrated; that’s not really the vibe of this whole enterprise for me. And I've been really lucky in that a lot of my work has been well-received, which is v gratifying and nice! But in the spirit: I kinda wish my companion stories Honeysweet and Saltbitter were more widely-read, even though they’re certainly not everyone’s cuppa, either thematically or stylistically (vaguely experimental writing about—you know it—trauma and its fallout, written as mirrored pieces). Definitely my most poetic stories, but both antique (originally from 2012/13 on FF dot net) and relatively less accessible than straight prose.

🥭: CRACK (which is basically the fic label for high-concept), then angst and smut are tied (for these two idiots? how could it not be), fluff. I prefer crack/high-concept because you can really do whatever within it; angsty crack, smutty crack, fluffy crack, seriously-treated crack. And since it’s by nature a wild setup it allows for all kinds of extremity and maximalism—when you’re talking about sex pollen or magic dicks or zombies, it’s kind of pointless trying to tone anything else down (even though I do tend to engage with writing crack in a more naturalistic way).

Angst is fine, smut is fine; smut is, for me, more often than not a writing exercise. It’s incredibly technical and challenging (sometimes tedious) to write, not because I lack for imagination, but because it’s almost entirely mechanics, which is up there with the tedium of describing a room. There’s a lot to keep track of from beat to beat, and since I’m under no illusions as to how closely the smut chapters/passages will be read, it’s more like writing stereo instructions—very clear, very detailed, one step to the next. It’s also a good challenge in that there’s a pretty limited vocabulary for doin’ it, so avoiding repetition is another huge element of writing smut that doubles as craft exercise.

Fluff is my least fav not because I don’t value it, but it’s . . . fluffy. It’s meant to be a confection. I’ve done it plenty of times; it’s easy, it’s cute. It’s often an excuse to write humor or comedy, which I find very fun! But it’s difficult to sustain for more than like, a one-shot or a scene without more depth starting to sneak in, at least pour moi. I also don’t love the whole hyper-domesticity angle that a lot of fluff relies on; it’s usually way heteroromantically structured, and I just have zero, or perhaps less than zero, interest in cozy family stories, particularly ones involving babies, which comes up a lot in Rizzles fluff. Just not my bag!

🍐: Oh, so many. Aside from the obvious (canon rizzles), I straight-up refuse to engage with Maura’s mob daughter storyline. It felt cheap and melodramatic at the time, and it feels cheap and melodramatic now. I’m half-convinced they just wanted to take advantage of the similarities between Sasha Alexander and Sharon Lawrence. It’s confusing, underdeveloped, and not something that feels true to anything—maybe it’s in the books, but on the show it just feels like a way to give Maura’s character Something Else To Make Her Interesting, and it just doesn’t, not least of all because the character doesn’t need that, she needs to explore all her other, already-rich backstories and relationships. Her neglectful adoptive parents are compelling enough, and I think narratively more believable and complex (or could be), but that’s also kind of shoved aside. And, per my usual complaint, it’s just unexamined trauma on top of unexamined trauma (like, yes they spend a lot of time on it, but it never feels integral to her—the stuff with Paddy, etc, has its arcs and stuff, but . . . who cares?). Anyway, I hate it! 

(love youuuuuuuu tho)

JUSTICE FOR MAURA ISLES

[copias-girl]

Do you have any tips/tricks on how you write copia?? Cause I genuinely love it and would like to know the process behind it

Omg thank you so much! It’s a huge compliment when people say they like the way I write him!! ♥︎ so without further ado:

HOW TO WRITE COPIA TUTORIAL LETS GOOOOO 👏🏻 adding a cut because this got long!

Ok so first of all, I do have a bit of an advantage because I’m Italian. I’m from Canada but my Mom was born in Italy, I’m fluent in Italian, and I still talk with my relatives in the old country. So basically I know what an Italian accent sounds like, because all my life I’ve heard all my family speaking with one! Hell, even I had one when I was little! HOWEVER, that doesn’t mean you can’t write Copia if you don’t have that experience

I watch a lot of Ghost concert footage and I’ve watched the Chapters sooo many times, so when I started writing Copia it came really naturally to me. Like writing him is literally second nature at this point 💀 So I would highly suggest watching footage of Copia because that way you can easily picture the way he sounds, his cadence when speaking, his accent, and his mannerisms. And once you know him well you can imagine how he’d react in certain scenarios.

And when you’re writing, ALWAYS always picture the dialogue being said in your head! That way, it’ll sound natural and much more realistic.

Also there are little subtle things you can do to make his speech more true to source for Copia. Italians are known for saying ‘eh’ in between words, just like how other people say ‘um’. So for Copia, I always use ‘eh’ and ‘ehm’, never ‘uh’ and ‘um.’

‘Ah’ is also good, because when he forgets Sister Imperator in the wheelchair, he says ‘Ah, shit.’ And of course, ‘oh’ is also fine to use. Also! When he does that signature little chuckle in the Chapters or on stage, the little ‘heh heh..’ Yeah, add that. It’s adorable and canon!

Also, throw in some Italian, as much or as little as you want. Sometimes I like to have him start a sentence in English and then he goes into Italian for the other half. Other times a whole sentence will be in Italian. And don’t forget to make him say ‘Si’ instead of ‘yes’ often! Also, if he’s talking about something, you can put that word in Italian as if he doesn’t know how to say it in English!

Now for the cadence! There are three main versions of Copia: Canon Copia (which you can see in my Pamper Your Papa fic), pathetically shy Copia (which you can see in To Catch a Cardinal) and a more dominant Copia (which I have not written yet, but I will soon!)

I’m going to use canon Copia as the example, but think of this as a soup; you can just use more or less of the ingredients to adjust the recipe and write which Copia you want!

Copia is awkward, so make sure to break up his sentences with a good amount of ‘eh’ and ‘ehm’. He’s like the perfect mix between awkward and sex appeal, so that’s how I like to write him. He can fluster, he can fuck, but at the end of the day he’s still an adorably awkward old man and that quality always shines through! And while he can fluster you, I picture him to get flustered easily too.

Also, don’t be afraid to add a bit of self-consciousness here and there, perhaps about being old, eating too much rigatoni lol, or about wanting to live up to the title of Papa (if you’re writing something where he’s Papa). If he’s Cardinal, you can make him self conscious perhaps about feelings of unworthiness or something along those lines. It adds to his charm and I feel like it’s accurate to his character. Not to mention it adds depth! Because Copia is lighthearted and fluffy, but he can also be really deep! He’s the perfect mix of everything ♥︎

So those are the basics. Of course, to write pathetic Copia, just increase the amount of stuttering and ‘eh’ and ‘ehm’. I mean really crank that shit up, ya know? It might seem excessive when you’re writing it but it reads off great!

For dominant Copia, you’re gonna be dialling all of that down. Keep the Italian, just don’t really add any of the ‘eh’ and ‘ehm’ or stuttering, because dominant Copia needs to be CONFIDENT and a bit more smooth and like -> 😈

Once again: IMAGINE THE DIALOGUE IN YOUR HEAD. That way you’ll know WHERE to put the ‘eh’ and ‘ehm’ and which words to stutter on! If those are misplaced it’ll make the dialogue seem unnatural!

Also, remember that clip where Copia (as Cardinal) was telling the audience to clap and he was like “You know, like ketchup!” because back in the day they used to have glass ketchup bottles so you’d have to slap the bottom to get the ketchup out? WELL, add some weird kinda stuff like that, stuff where’s it’s like ??? Baby what are you talking about?? His odd references are so cute and add to his awkward old man charm. That’s why I had him compare his rat to a potato in TCAC 💀

I really hope I explained this ok, sorry if it’s kinda chaotic! ♥︎ Please don’t hesitate to send in another ask if you need clarification on anything or have more questions! I love talking about Copia and I love talking about writing! ♥︎♥︎♥︎

[desertfangs]

☕️ + daniel's (official) mortal death

This is so fascinating to consider because it could go so many ways!

First, if Daniel was born in 1953 as many of us like to imagine, he will be turning 70 this year, so I hope Armand has a huge party planned for him on Night Island (filing that away as a possible funny, fluffy fic idea!)

Anyhow, some of the ways it may have gone/will go:

If Armand saw a reason to make sure Daniel was officially, legally dead during their years on Night Island after he was turned, he would have discussed it with Daniel and together they would have come up with the official story, written the obit, and gotten the death certificate made and filed. The reasons for this are many but I think really the biggest catalyst to this would be if people were searching for him. Relatives trying to track him down, old friends, etc. In that case, Armand would want to have legal records for them to find and possibly even send a copy of the death certificate to said family with a letter saying his estate has provided that they will continue to receive checks in perpetuity. However, if there was no pressing reason to do it, I don't know it would have happened that soon, since Daniel was well within his mortal life span, having only "died" at 32.

Which means, it's possible it's something Armand saw to while Daniel was mentally unwell. If Daniel wasn't in a position to help with those arrangements, Armand would have done it all himself and it's possible he never got around to mentioning it to Daniel, who might then, as in your wonderful headcanon, be sitting there one night and simply ask "Am I dead?" Because he honestly wouldn't know. I personally headcanon that Daniel and Armand's financial and legal lives are entirely entwined and largely controlled by Armand and have been since the 80s (Daniel is happy to let him handle that shit.) So Daniel knows Armand would know what his legal status was. As it is, I think they probably no longer have personal bank accounts, but everything, from the Night Island to any investments and holdings, and the million random apartments and houses they own are just under trusts and shell corporations.

Maybe he's still legally alive! I mean he's well within a mortal life span and it's entirely possible that's true. Again, I think it's Armand who will be thinking about these things and might bring the idea to him that it's time to legally "die" and they can figure out the best way to handle it together. That would be a fun fic!

But yeah, no matter what the situation, I think Armand is probably the one to go "So, beloved, you cannot legally be alive anymore." But when or why will just depend on if it's causing problems for them more than anything else, or if he thinks perhaps Daniel's family will want that closure. Daniel is not thoughtless but I don't think he's really considered it, especially given how much time he's spent out of sorts and not really able to think about those things.

[apprenticestanheight]

All is Well That Ends Well - Lawrence Gordon x gn! afab! reader - part III

all right!! Here we are with part three of the sugar daddy AU! To compensate for the delay with the last chapter, both parts three and four are coming out this week, and part four will be released in about an hour and a bit from now, should the queue work properly.

This part is one of the few without smut in it bc this fic is porn with plot rather than without and it'll get a bit more plot-focused as chapters go on. I haven't written too much into the middle right yet but I know that, bc of the way that I want to write it, there'll be more of a balance.

Fic type - this chapter is fluffy, however, the fic generally is for audiences of 18 and over, so minors, still don't interact pls and thanks

Warnings - lawrence makes a footloose joke about himself, plus the trap and jigsaw are mentioned

When you explained everything to Aurelie the following morning, she offered to help you pack shortly after a high-five and verification that you trusted the handsome acquaintance that Lawrence had turned into, which you did. It was very easy to trust him, and the phone call you'd had after you'd been at your apartment for a whopping thirty minutes only made your trust in him increase.

When you met Lawrence at the bar that night, you gave him a copy of your schedule so that he could figure out when it was best to reach out to you for sex and he gave you the primary key to the condo, promised you the schedule would see no eyes other than his own, and the two of you got to know each other more so that the foundations of trust were built further.

You moved into the condo mostly by yourself that Saturday, carrying boxes up the elevator two at a time. Unpacking was relatively easy as you didn’t have too much, and when Lawrence graced your door with your favorite take out and a grin, saying no to him was impossible.

You ate the takeout on the living room floor—Aurelie had bought the couch and most of the other furniture you had in the apartment you’d shared and so you didn’t really have much in the way of furniture, but your bed was in the room you’d declared your own and you had mugs, cups, cutlery and dishware so you counted that, at least, as a relative win.

“And it’s not—it’s not that I’m hyper independent,” you say. “It’s just that Aurelie has a lot of stuff on her plate and asking her to help me move in felt like I would’ve been making myself into an inconvenience, so I didn’t.”

“You could’ve asked me,” Lawrence says. “I gave you my number for reasons other than booty call style meet ups. I would’ve helped.”

“It wasn’t too difficult,” you shrug. “Two boxes at a time, it took me around two hours. Plus, Aurelie helped load up the car. You’ve also helped me enough—you bought me dinner, and that’s on top of the four thousand dollars a month thing we’ve got going for us?”

“Well—hyper independence is a little unhealthy,” Lawrence says, shrugging. “Just—you’re allowed to reach out to others for help. I’m a phone call away and I imagine Aurelie shares the same sentiment.”

You grin. “Thank you for this,” you say. “Both the advice and the food. I need to get a couch, evidently, so if you wouldn’t mind helping me get one through the front door, I’m probably going to go to a furniture store tomorrow.”

Lawrence laughs. “You need a couch, and a coffee table, and curtains for a place other than your bedroom—you need plenty. Can you cover all of it? Your first two thousand doesn’t come in until next week.”

You nod. “I have twenty thousand set aside from odds and ends while working in case my life ever goes up in flames. Plus—my bosses are two people in their sixties who can afford quite the hefty Christmas bonus. That is the primary foundation of the savings account, actually.”

“How hefty a bonus can two sixty year olds afford?”

“Five thousand dollars tacked onto my paychecks for December,” you grin. “I get a bonus in spring, too, totaling to $1000, and a bonus in autumn totaling to the same amount. I’ve worked there for twelve years now and because they have no interest in turning their bookstore into a branch of bookstores, the money they make from getting frequent customers and having eight additional employees outside of themselves is quite a lot. They’re busy all year round, and Monday and Tuesday are typically their busiest days because that’s when new releases hit the shelves.”

Understanding flashes across Lawrences face. “That’s why you can’t meet on Mondays,” he says. “New releases means more people. More people means a longer shift.”

You nod. “I wake up at four thirty on Monday mornings. Classes are from six in the morning to 11:15. I drive to work because it’s five minutes out from the uni campus, spend ten minutes eating an early lunch and then work from eleven thirty until ten. My classes don’t start until ten AM on Tuesdays so I eat a late take out dinner, come home, conk out at eleven and sleep until nine.”

“I’m a doctor and I don’t understand how that’s possible,” he says. “I did a bachelors and then medical school, followed by an internship where I slept maybe three hours in the course of 24 and still, how you manage that makes no sense to me. When I was thirty I was working as a doctor already and still, my entire day was about as chaotic as your Monday morning sounds.”

“Mondays are days where I run on four or five hours—I always wake up before my alarms and going to bed at around half past midnight kind of sets you up for failure anyway—and I manage by drinking either two or three energy drinks or at least a liter of coffee.”

“That is the opposite of healthy for your heart and liver function.” Lawrence says, taking a bite of his takeout. You laugh, shrugging a little.

“I know,” you nod. “I also know that one day it’ll come back to bite me in the ass, but I’m just fine with that so long as it waits until I’ve got gray hair and am in my eighties.”

Lawrence laughs, shakes his head.

The two of you finish your meal in relatively light chitter chatter—you ask Lawrence about his day at work and listen to his responses, then tell him about the time you’d had working a six hour shift the day before.

Talking to him, so it seems, is an incredibly easy feat. He’s exactly the kind of person you can open up to without even really noticing that you’ve done as much, and you’re fine to tell him whatever he wants to know either way as you’re a fairly open book.

Once you’re done with the food, you rinse out the containers it came in—they’re multiple use and decent for storage—while Lawrence notes he’s never seen it done before. At that, you shrug and laugh a little, reaching up to lightly poke his nose.

“In the house of the broke, we rinse and reuse what we can,” you say. “My parents taught it to me—we’ve been getting food from this place since I was a kid, and they market the fact that their takeout containers can be rinsed and reused on their website, menus, and in person—and they’re good containers!”

“I just don’t see the point,” Lawrence says, shrugging.

“Well, they’re good for meal prep,” you say. “I use them for that a lot of the time, given that I only allocate $20 a week to coffee and random treats for myself. They’re also really good for leftovers or when you’re bringing food to a family event—think Easter, Christmas, birthday parties—and for potlucks. Aurelie was like you, too. She still is, and now that I’ve moved out, I think my opportunity to show her the light was missed.”

Lawrence snorts. “I’m sorry that my wanting this place to go to good use means that she’ll never understand the joy of keeping containers from spontaneous takeaway.”

“It’s a nice place, and I think she was starting to get a bit fed up with me as her roommate anyway—we both have to study a lot for the degrees we’re getting, but I like reading anyway so I study a lot more, and she’s probably thriving off the knowledge that she’ll never walk past the living room for a glass of water at three in the morning and find me pouring over art history textbooks again, which only happened once but still. Once, for both of us, was more than enough.”

Lawrence nods. You finish rinsing off the last container and set it to the drying wrack to the left of the sink, flicking water at Lawrences chest before you dry your hands with a dry washcloth.

Lawrence laughs at your action, shaking his head. “You’re a very interesting person,” he says.

“Well, even at the ripe old age of thirty and two degrees out of three done with, I still feel like I’m 25 a lot of the time,” you say. “I’m not the partier I was during my Masters, though. You will not find me drunk when you come in one of these days. Now, I have taste in terms of my liquor, and will only drink Smirnoff vodka when I’m nine drinks deep because it will forever remind me of being in my first years of uni and drinking at frat parties.”

“I didn’t do much drinking in my college days,” Lawrence says as you grab your electric kettle. “I was too busy with studying—I was Type A.”

You nod, laughing slightly as you dump out the water you’d poured into it that morning to replace it with new water that’s not several hours old.

“You seem Type A. The college, then medical school, then wife and kid and house and presumably a number of dinner parties with your colleagues. All of it reeks of Type A,” you say. “No offense, of course.”

“You’re missing the parts that make me fun,” Lawrence says, eyes narrowing both playfully and accusatorily. “The Jigsaw trap, the footloose bit—" at that remark, Lawrence uses his cane to gesture to the prosthetic foot that exists in place of the real thing, smirking at his own humor just slightly "—The divorce, the loss of said child, the weeks spent in recovery, and now you.”

You fill the kettle to your liking and place it back onto its port, pressing down on the small lever and watching for the blue light that ticks up on the lower half once it gets started.

“I make you fun?” You ask, grinning a bit as the blue light takes hold of the bottom half of your kettle. “Oh, that is the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me. Didn’t know you had sweetness in you.”

“You’ve met me a grand total of, what, four times now?” Lawrence asks. “Of course, we’ve established I am not some glorified serial killer, so that puts trust in you, but you’ll find as we get to know each other more that I can be both fun and sweet. Sometimes both at once.”

You nod. “I can’t wait to witness that, then.” You turn around to grab a mug and a tea bag, offering one to Lawrence, which he accepts.

Once the tea is made, you drink it in relative silence, occasionally teasing one another and making each other laugh. Lawrence goes home thereafter, and you find yourself in a half empty condo, completely alone.

[sallow-mallow]

Snowball Fight

Hi my dears!  I thought I would hop onto the Sebastian Sallow fanfic bandwagon, he's been living rent free in my brain for too long now and the game didn't give us enough time with him.  

This blog will only write appropriate cute fluffy oneshots for this character because I do agree that we need to respect the fact he is underage during the events of the game.

Later I plan on creating more fics with him and reader after they graduated Hogwarts.

gn!reader x Sebastian Sallow

'"Brr!"  You rubbed your mitten hands together, desperately trying to keep your fingers from freezing solid. "It's colder out here than the look Imelda gave me this morning."

Sebastian laughed loudly at that, his emerald-lined cloak flapping noisily in the brisk wind. "I'm surprised they didn't cancel Care of Magical Creatures today.  Can't imagine the creatures are too thrilled either."

Together you trudged through the thickening snow, up to your ankles in it now and leaving quickly filling footprints behind.  

"Did Ominis head to class without us again?"  You asked, the tip of your nose now completely numb, your chattering teeth making it difficult to speak.

"He seems rather put out at the amount of personal information I tell you."  Sebastian shrugged, glancing down at your shivering form. "Come here, give me your hands."

The two of you took shelter beneath a heavy fir tree, the ground below relatively clear of snow thanks to the thick branches above. You gave Sebastian a wary look as you shuffled near to him, accepting his outstretched hand as he withdrew his dark walnut wand.

"Don't give me that pathetic look, I'm not going to blast your fingers off."  He sniffed loudly, clearing his throat before muttering a quick incantation.  

An immediate warmth spread from the tips of your icy fingers, flowing down through your hands and up your arms with pleasant swiftness. You flexed your fingers within Sebastian's grasp, giving him a grateful smile.

"Thank you Seb."

"Yes, well."  Sebastian nodded to you, stowing his wand once more within his Slytherin robes. "Your shivering was becoming mildly alarming.  Don't want to have to drag your body up to the hospital wing do I?"

"Thoughtful as ever."  You teased, nudging your shoulder against his and coaxing a grudging smile from your friend.

"Don't tell anyone, I have a reputation to uphold."  

He began walking again, a little in front of you and completely oblivious to your sudden mischievous movements as you doubled over, grabbing a handful of snow and shaping it into a sloppy ball.

Taking careful aim, you lobbed the frozen projectile at your friend's back.  It struck him and splattered all over his black robes.  Sebastian whirled on you, suprise and disbelief quickly transforming into amusement on his freckled face, his brown eyes widening with incredulity.  "Oh, you've done it now!  Not even your ancient magical powers will save you!"

With a shrieking laugh you took off running away from him as he stooped to gather his own snowball.  You felt a cold impact as it hit you across the right shoulder, unbalancing you as you tried to evade him.  Your feet slipped from under you and you slid in the snow all the way down to the base of the hill, passing several confused students who were also making their careful way to Care of Magical Creatures.

It was your Hufflepuff friend, Poppy, who helped you to your wobbly feet, assisting as you brushed layers of snow from your school uniform. "What happened to you?"  She asked and followed your accusing finger as you point up the hill to where Sebastian was making his way down to you. His face was alight with mirth as he laughed at the state you were in.

"That backfired spectacularly I would say!"  He chortled, shaking his head at you. "This is how you repay a friend for healing you?  Chucking a snowball at them?"

"I wouldn't exactly call it 'healing', Sebastian."  You grumbled, now thoroughly chilled to the bone. "I'd been itching to do that all day, but my hands were too cold."

"Ah, I see."  He didn't hesitate to help you dry off, using the same incantation he had before you'd bit off more than you could chew. "It's my fault, then."

You nodded and he laughed again.  People had mentioned to you before how Sebastian hardly ever cracked a smile before he became friends with you.  Some of your closer schoolmates, such as Poppy and Natty, even went so far as to tease you rather relentlessly about how Sebastian lit up when in your presence.

"Let's get to class."  Poppy suggested and led the way as you and Sebastian followed.

You saw the class hut up ahead with an awning blocking the falling snow and magically floating torches arranged around the tables to keep the space warm.

A tugging at the neck of your robes was your only warning before Sebastian shoved a handful of snow down the back of your shirt. You squealed, wheeling around to smack him on the chest but he'd already hastened away toward your usual spot, cackling.

"I suppose I deserved that."  You muttered as Poppy turned to see what he'd done.

"I'm sure he'll warm you up later."  She assured you, hooking her arm through yours as you walked the last few yards to class.

Your blush had nothing to do with the cold.

[echoes-lighthouse]

I’d love to read about your BNHA world ships and dynamics! 💞☕️🛌🪐💘🙈 - rnm-magicspace-xsd (I also really love BNHA so I got a bit overexcited and chose a lot of questions, but I’m looking forward for reading your take on your life with those dear lovers/found family members!)

Thank you so much @rnm-magic-space-xsd!!! I'm super duper in love with this ask game so all of the questions are soooo welcome! I love imagining what the 'canon' version of these selfships would look like.

Because I have three different BNHA canons, I'll just do a quick little recap before I dive in!

Caregiver Echo: paired with Shigaraki, my self-insert is a magazine editor and the plotline is more about Shigaraki's recovery arc

Silvertongue Echo: paired with Toshinori, our romance is a background arc to the canon plot: my self-insert is a teacher at a school for the deaf/hoh

Cat's Paw Echo: paired with Toga but also in a polycule with most League members, aligns with the canon plot with some shifts: my self-insert is another member of the League of Villains

--

💞: Aside from with your f/o, who else would you commonly be shipped with? Why?

Caregiver Echo: answered here

Silvertongue Echo: hard to say! They're a relatively minor character: some people might pair them with Hizashi because of the sign language element. In my heart they should maybe be shipped with Nezu but I don't think anyone else would agree with that lol

Cat's Paw Echo: I think fans would just not really like them because they're a bit fanservicey?? But maybe they'd get shipped with both Toga and Ochako because Toga/Ochako is obviously OTP material so why not OT3 with the canon pair? Maybe also Mr. Compress because they get along well?

☕️: What are the most common plots of shipping fics between you and your f/o? 🪐: What would be your most popular AU and why?

I accidentally answered ☕️as 🪐 so here we go!

Caregiver Echo: Fantasy AUs are really popular for some reason? People are just really here for evil!prince!Shigaraki, I think. There's also a few childhood friend AUs or flipped roles where I'm evil and Shigaraki is just an innocent out there and I kidnap him >:)

Silvertongue Echo: mostly just a lot of different meet-cutes! People write about us meeting when Toshi's in hero form because we never interacted as Echo and All Might in canon. So lots of AUs where we meet with him rescuing me.

Cat's Paw Echo: non-Quirk High School AUs get written a fair amount, also a lot of omegaverse :V

🛌💘🙈 are under the cut because I'm chatting a lot!!!!! I really super appreciate this ask and it is so much fun to answer them beside each other!

🛌: What tropes show up in fics involving your ship?

I'm sooo bad at knowing what tropes are so I'm sorry if my answers suck :P

Caregiver Echo: I mean the whole relationship is a bit cliche so it's tropes all the way down! The fics go more into the kink stuff but it's a bit 50/50 on who they make the dom/sub in the pair. Aside from that, all the usual 'villain redemption' tropes!

Silvertongue Echo: People really lean into my mental health in the fics and write a lot of hurt/comfort with me struggling with depression and things that come with that. And as I said, lots of meetcutes.

Cat's Paw Echo: lots of romantic blood drinking and trauma coping and sharing sad backstories

💘: Why would people love your ship? Why would people dislike your ship? How might it start debates? 🙈: Why would your ship be thought of as cute/fluffy? Why would your ship be considered problematic?

Hahahahaha oh THIS is a fun one: I have to answer them at the same time because they're similar answers!

Caregiver Echo: A classic story of love and redemption!!! Take care of that sad crusty boy! The masses love to see it! As I mentioned, we're ambiguously romantic in the canon content (some fans interpret it as platonic) so we are a VERY debated ship. There's an age gap and Shigaraki is clearly not familiar with interpersonal relationships so some people argue it would be creepy to ship it romantically, while others say it's encouraging the 'afab character saves dangerous man from his own emotions' story

Silvertongue Echo: I think people who dislike this ship just think it's boring and unnecessary to the plot? Adding romance is disrespectful to the point of the story, etc. But I'm sooo charming that most people like the ship anyways: we've got a sweet plot and we win most people over to our side! We don't get a lot of discourse: some people pick a fight with our age gap but it's not really noticeable from our designs so a lot of people forget about it tbh and also I'm a proper adult so who cares aside from the real sticklers

Cat's Paw Echo: Ohohoho big discourse on this one! My character is two years older than Toga which technically makes it an adult/minor relationship and that is Big Discourse, and then other League members are even older, so that's double discourse for the people who ship it as a poly thing. Evil gay people is also a point of discourse between me and Magne and Toga being all canon queer and basically no canon queer heroes. All of that said, people who see themselves in the outcast group and just want to run around like feral villains and get loved for being themselves without making themselves 'normal' go wild for the League and also for our ship!!!