#chocoholic fics

[chocoholicannanymous]

Evil Author Day #3

February 15th is Evil Author Day - you can read more about it on Jilly James’ site, but in short it’s about posting titles or descriptions or parts of stuff that’s not actually ready for posting, the evil part being that there are no promises what so ever that there will be more.

What I’m posting under the EAD-tag either isn’t finished and might never be, or it could be considered finished only I’m not happy with it.

Either way: Enjoy. Or not.

Follows Doesn't Hurt At All, A Little Hurt (Goes A Long Way) and (It Hurts) To Have To Be This Honest With The One You Love.

Posting this one under the EAD-tag as I have never been able to be satisfied with it.

AN: Timelinewise, Kurt goes to London during the first week of April, Adam returns to England first week (or so) of June, and Kurt sends the first email to Adam beginning of August. This takes place about two weeks or so later.

Love Hurts (When You Do it Right)

Part 4 of Doesn't Hurt At All

Kurt picked up his book, read two paragraphs, then put it down again with a sigh. He'd been repeating that process now for close to twenty minutes. He'd also shredded two napkins, rearranged everything on the small table, and finished half a lemonade.

Being early for this meet-up had probably not been one of his brightest ideas.

Then again, it was possible that the meet-up itself wasn't that bright of an idea.

Kurt swallowed, looked at the time, and considered – for at least the tenth time – if it might not be best to cancel. Just...walk away, send Adam an email about being detained, and then never approach the subject again. He could do that, right? After all, it wasn't as if Adam even knew that Kurt was staying in London for the time being – he'd assumed Kurt was on vacation. (Which, admittedly, had been exactly what Kurt had been aiming at. He'd wanted to reduce the pressure on Adam. Maybe he had, but the pressure on himself? Very much present, and very much too much.)

Four minutes until he was supposed to meet Adam for the first time in nearly six months – for the first time since spooking, and refusing to be in a committed relationship. And see how well that worked, with the running back to Blaine and the getting engaged... Kurt ignored the snide inner voice. He'd messed up, and he'd done so repeatedly, and horribly. To leave now would be another mistake, and that's why he was going to stay, no matter how many butterflies seemed to have taken up residence in his stomach.

The seconds ticked by slowly, and a minute past their agreed upon time Kurt's stomach sank. No Adam. Adam, who never was late. Kurt blinked to avoid the tears that wanted to well up, and gave himself a stern talking to. First of all, he didn't really have any reason to be upset – he'd placed himself, and Adam, in this position on his own – and second, well, public transportation could be tricky. Maybe Adam was simply stuck on the Tube?

Either way, he would wait. He'd finish his lemonade, to begin with, and then reassess.

Twenty-four minutes past the hour saw Kurt out of both lemonade and hope. It didn't look like Adam was showing. Still. He'd give it until half past, and then... Then he'd go back to the apartment and cry into a pint of ice cream or something.

(A Long Island Ice Tea or five sounded tempting, but Kurt had learned by now that alcohol acted as a depressant and thus did not make him feel any better. Quite the opposite. Plus, if he drank when already down... Well. “Stupid” was a kind description of his behavior then.)

“Kurt?”

Oh! Kurt looked up, and was met with Adam's kind face. Looks like maybe I won't need that ice cream. At least not quite yet, he amended after taking a second look – it was obvious from the other man's body language that he wasn't entirely comfortable, or happy, with the situation, and it was as if he'd tried to close the shutters of his usually expressive eyes. Maybe I should make that two pints.

Kurt tried to keep his trepidation from being noticed though, choosing to nod and send a small smile the Brit's way.

“Adam. I'm happy to see you.”

And he really was. No matter the outcome of their meeting, Kurt would be happy – and grateful – that he'd gotten to see the other man again. He wanted to know that Adam was fine, that he'd gotten on with his life even after Kurt had screwed things up. In the end, that knowledge meant even more to Kurt than the possibility of losing some of the guilt he carried over his cowardly actions and the end of their relationship.

“Kurt.” There was a standoffish quality to Adam that Kurt had never seen before, not even when mocked by other students, and his heart ached knowing that he deserved it. “I have to say I was surprised to hear from you, and even more so when you asked to meet up. To be quite honest, up until just now I wasn't sure if I should go through with it.”

The confirmation of his suspicions shouldn't hurt so much, but yet it did. It wasn't anything he hadn't expected, or earned for that matter, but the words still made his heart sink even further in his chest.

“Well, while I understand that – and I really do – I'm happy you came. I know I could have tried to apologize through email, but it didn't feel right. I wanted – no, I needed to actually talk to you. And if you never want to see me again, I'll understand. I'm not going to lie, I want us to stay in touch, I really do, but I am going to respect your wishes here.”

It would be hard, yes, but somehow Kurt suspected all things worthwhile were. Also, considering he'd complained about others not being willing to respect his wishes, well. “Do unto others” and all that, right? Treating others the same way he himself wanted to be treated was a good way to live, Kurt knew, and it was time he did. Adam was a really good place to start.

“Not to be rude, but why should we? I was willing to try that, you know, when you got back with your ex, only I couldn't even get you to look at me. I have absolutely no desire to be someone for you to use when trying put yourself back together again. Once was enough. Actually, no – once was one time too many, but. I'm sure you get my point?”

Yeah, he got it. He got it straight into his bruised and battered heart, alright. But. As much as it hurt, Kurt felt he deserved it – and more, considering how he himself had hurt Adam. Still...

“I do. And you're absolutely right, it shouldn't have happened even once, regardless of how it was never my intention. I never meant to use you, never. I do understand how it looks though, I really do.

“And I don't expect you to be there for me again – I don't expect anything from you. I would love it if we could be friends, or even just friendly, but also know exactly how badly I screwed up. So, as I said, if you never want to talk to me again after today, I promise you that I will respect that. If that's what you want, I will do everything in my power to make sure you never have to see me again.”

And he would, no matter how little he wanted to. Because Adam deserved so much, the least of which was respect. Kurt had failed him too many times when it came to that. He refused to do so again.

“I just... I owe you, Adam. So, so much, for all you gave me. And if you want me to repay that by leaving you alone, then I will. But don't you want closure? To be able to let all that crap go? Because I do. I'm trying to get over it, and heal, but honestly? The past has a way of dragging me down, and I would love to be able to cut that loose, and just live.

“And I think that as long as I feel this guilty over what happened with you that's going to be hard. As for you, well, in your shoes? I'd want to know what the hell happened.”

Adam's mouth twisted into an unhappy, sour grimace for a second, then relaxed again.

“But I already know what happened, don't I? You lied to me, and you used me – intentionally or not, there's no other way I can take what you did – and then you went running back to your ex, like it was all a game to you.”

“It wasn't!”

“But that's what it felt like. You were happy to date me for weeks, months even, but god forbid you commit. Instead you went back home and had sex with the guy who cheated on you. Then you didn't tell me about it, not until Santana basically forced you. And yeah, sure, we weren't exclusive, as much as I wanted to be, but Kurt? Not being exclusive didn't mean it didn't hurt. Because unlike you? I was committed.

“Still, I thought 'okay, he's been burned, he doesn't mean to hurt you, it'll be fine, we'll get through this'. Because you promised me I wasn't your rebound, that you wanted to be over him, and that you wanted to try. And so I trusted you. I trusted you, only to have you go back to Ohio only to come back with an engagement ring. You didn't even have the decency to give me a heads-up, Kurt. I had to find out through others. Hell, I wasn't even lucky enough to hear the gossip. Oh no.

“All those stuck-up brats that only stopped outright mocking me to my face because you pulled rank with them? Yeah, they took great pleasure in informing me about your changed relationship status. Telling me how you'd finally decided to 'get rid of the trash' and such.”

Kurt felt sick to his stomach, not just because of his guilt but also because of the hurt and the venom in Adam's voice. He had a good idea of exactly how nasty some of them had been, and how they'd relished in hurting Adam. And it was all his fault. He'd fucked up, and while he'd certainly paid for it, Adam had suffered just as much.

“I could have dealt with you deciding to break things off with me, Kurt. I wouldn't have liked it, no, but I would have accepted it. But that's not what happened. Instead you just threw me aside, showing me less respect than you do than yesterday's paper. Not only did you start dating someone else, after telling me you weren't ready for a relationship, but you started dating the guy who treated you like crap and who you told me you didn't want to go back to. And to top it all off you agreed to marry him?

“And as if all that wasn't enough, you waited until everyone who cared to bully me had had a go before trying to talk to me yourself.

“You owed me better, Kurt. I don't care that we weren't boyfriends, that we were only dating casually, you still owed me more than that. As someone who was both in love with you and trying to be your friend, I deserved more.”

Kurt swallowed down his tears and his shame, because Adam was right. The way Kurt had acted was so beyond okay it was hard for him to understand why Adam hadn't simply just spat him in the face when Kurt had tried to talk to him – both back then and now.

It was, he acknowledged, a testament of exactly how much of a good guy Adam was.

“You're right. You deserved so, so much more, and the way I acted was deplorable. I owe you so much, the least of which is an explanation. It's just hard finding the right words. It's always been. And all of this, it's going to sound like a bunch of excuses, like me trying to shift the blame of my behavior onto others, I realize that. Just, this is the result of hours of therapy. Because yeah, I needed that.

“I've needed it for years.

“When I left for Lima it was only to be there for my dad. I had absolutely no intention of getting back with Blaine – he wasn't even on my radar. I was planning to come back and keep trying the dating thing with you. We were going somewhere, I thought, and I wanted to see where that was. I wanted to see what we could be. Because I looked at you, and I saw sunshine, and I liked that.

“And then I was back, and everything was closing up on me. Blaine was around from day one, everywhere that wasn't the hospital, and sometimes there too. And he was...familiar, I guess. And I know, that's not an excuse, or even a good explanation, but it's the truth.

“And the longer I was there, the harder it was to see past him. Past the memories connected to everywhere I went, past the memories all over my room, because I hadn't had the heart to clear them out. Past everyone telling me we'd been so good together, that we belonged together, that part of being a couple was forgiving each other for mistakes, on and on.

“Add that both Rachel and Santana, the only ones who knew you, kept comparing you and what we had to Blaine and what I had with him, and making it all negative. Not putting you down, just... Making you sound less. Making our relationship sound like a cheap knockoff, and all emotions between us like a pale copy of what love and passion was supposed to be. And I was enough of an idiot to think that they had a point.”

Adam's face closed off and he started standing up, making Kurt panic.

“Being with you didn't hurt!” he blurted out, terrified that Adam wouldn't let him explain. Then he flushed scarlet, as the people at the next table turned and looked at him.

“Adam, please...”

He blinked back tears as Adam sat down again, both grateful for it and terrified it'd be for nothing as Adam looked as close to furious as Kurt had ever seen him.

“What are you talking about, Kurt?”

“Do you know how many guys have been interested in me? The first was so deep in the closet that his response to kissing me – without my consent, by the way – was a death threat.

“The second was Blaine, and he only went for me after he got shot down by who he really wanted, and he wanted to change like 90% of who I was.

“The third was you.

“That's it. That's my romantic history.” Kurt swallowed back a lump of humiliation and old hurt, and continued.

“Between the two of them Blaine and David made love into something twisted. They probably didn't mean to, it just... It happened. My friends... They were always in relationships, but never truly healthy ones. There was always something, you know? Mike and Tina came close, I think, except for how they got together when she was still dating someone else.

“And my brother was going to marry Rachel, only on the day of the wedding instead of taking her to the town hall he took her to the train station and sent her to New York alone. And that's not healthy, that one person feel that they can make that kind of decision about the relationship. Of course, Rachel saying she was going to stay in Lima to marry Finn instead of going to NYADA was hardly healthy either.”

And then there was Kurt's stupid crush on Finn, and how twisted that had made things, and... Well. No need to drag up everything.

“I used to think they'd end up together some way in the end after all, but now... They loved each other, I know they did, but I don't know if they could ever have been healthy together.

“It took me quite a lot of therapy to realize that I'd pretty much told myself that it wasn't love if it didn't hurt. It took even more before I could say that love shouldn't hurt, that if it hurts there's something wrong. It took me months to be able to say that what you and I had was real. That the fact that it didn't hurt proved it was. That it could have been everything – if I'd only let it.”

Kurt hated how his voice broke and wavered, hated that even after all the work he'd put in to become stronger talking about how fucked up he'd been made him feel anything but strong.

“When I told you about what happened at the wedding you acted as if it was okay. The same happened when I wouldn't commit to you. You never pushed for more, never pressured me to do – or be – something else. And I took that as meaning that you didn't really care.

“Stupid, I know. But... It was what I knew. I didn't understand that allowing me to decide for myself was something you did because you cared – because you did like me, and because you liked me, not who you could make me into. I had forgotten what it was like to have my wishes respected, because to be honest no one's done that fully since my mom died.

“I didn't know how to be in a relationship with someone who wouldn't push for me to do as they wanted, not what I needed, who didn't try and make me less so that they could be the one looked up to. Some part of me expected you to take offense at me doing well, or use it to your own advantage. Not because of anything you did, but because it was what I was used to.

“I was fucked up, and I should have found a therapist a long time ago.”

Once he'd started it was as if he'd forgotten to keep things inside, and he just kept talking even though Adam looked at him as if he'd pulled of a mask, revealing himself as an alien. The doors were open, and everything was coming out.

“It wasn't just about romantic love either. My dad was a part of it too. He... I love him, I do, and I don't doubt that he loves me, but sometimes... Sometimes I need more. Sometimes I resent him for not giving me more.

“Dad never said it out loud, but I always knew I wasn't what he'd hoped for in a son. Parts of me, yes, but me as a whole? Never. And that made me feel as if I had to earn his love, and acceptance. It drove me into doing all kinds of things I wasn't really into, in the hope that he'd be happy.

“I learned basic mechanic skills to please dad, I watched shows that made me so bored I wanted to cry, I hid things I loved, I gave up ballet, I tried out for the football team, I tried dating a girl... All so that dad would approve. Not just of my interests, but of me.”

Saying those things hurt, because Kurt really did love his dad, and criticizing him was hard. But, they were all true, and holding back had never helped. Quite the opposite, I'd say.

“After mom died I kind of got into a mindset of doing whatever it took to keep dad – in every way. Turns out, that also meant accepting a marriage proposal because dad thought I should. I remember coming out to him, and how scared I was, because I knew that his love wasn't unconditional. I knew that I was most likely going to disappoint him, and that he might love me less for not continuing to pretend I was 'normal'. And I would have, only I felt like it was killing me. I was scared that I would lose my dad by being honest, but I was even more scared that I would lose the will to live if I wasn't.

“And then when he told me he knew, and continued to tell me he loved me even after, I was so grateful that I ignored all the warning signs. Dad loved – loves – me despite being gay, and having to accept that breaks my heart.”

“Dad hated the idea of me dating in New York, and since I never told him any of the bad things about my relationship with Blaine he thought we had been good. He liked the idea of me only being with one boy – it was the next best thing to me staying single and celibate until I turned 30 or something, you know?

“So when we broke up, and I told him it was because we couldn't do long distance, well, dad never expected us to stay broken up. He figured it was just us being young and that we'd get back together once Blaine was in New York if not before.”

It had been so obvious, or should have been, that this had been the reasoning behind Burt bringing Blaine with him to New York over Christmas. Helping the two of them reconnect. Kurt avoided even thinking about the possibility that his dad would have pushed for him to get back with Blaine even if he'd known the whole truth, but he could tell that Adam was thinking something along those lines.

“For some reason dad thought that me getting married to Blaine was a good idea, and somehow I took that as me having to do just that. As me having to repay dad's acceptance with compliance.”

He choked out the words, feeling as if his life depended on no longer holding them in. And, miracle of all miracles, Adam reached over and rested his hand on Kurt's arm in a gesture of support. Only for a few seconds, but it felt like everything Kurt could ever have asked for.

His next words came out in a whisper.

“Sometimes I wonder if me not telling dad the truth about all the ugliness in my life was because deep down I didn't trust him with it. Didn't trust him to side with me, instead of saying I deserved it for being myself.

“The same goes for the ugliness in my relationship with Blaine. I didn't tell dad, because subconsciously I didn't expect him to take my side. He... Well. Let's just say he doesn't have the best track-record when it comes to taking my side against other guys.

“And when it came down to it, he didn't this time either. When I broke off the engagement my dad immediately sided with Blaine. He didn't even stop to listen to me, or consider my wishes. In the end that was what drove me out of New York. Not Blaine stalking me, or all my friends siding with him, but my dad's failure to support me and trust that I had good reasons for my choice.”

Bringing it up still hurt so much, even after all the therapy he'd had, and Kurt knew that just a month ago he would not have been able to to have this conversation, to lay himself this bare in front of Adam.

Burt Hummel had failed as a dad, utterly and completely, and that hurt more than anything. More than his friends failing him. More than Blaine betraying him. It was almost as painful as losing Finn.

Almost, but not quite, because while it felt like Kurt had lost his dad just as brutally as he'd lost his brother, at least Burt was still alive. The option to mend the fences some day was still there.

“Anyway, that's not an excuse, just like none of it is, but it's part of why I had such a hard time believing fully in you. Having a stranger be that accepting and supportive when my blood couldn't be bothered? It had to be fake. It had to be, because I couldn't deal with what it said about my life if it wasn't. It wasn't fair to you, and you deserved so much better, but that's how it was.”

“I'm not saying we ignore everything that's happened, and just go back to dating like I never went back to Lima and got stupid. Like I didn't hurt you. I know we can't do that. Not only would it be impossible, but it also wouldn't be healthy.” He should know – he had, after all, done exactly that with Blaine. “Too much has happened, and we're not the same. At least, I'm not, and I don't really think you are either.

“But could we start again? Could we try? Because Adam, I know it was my fault, but I'm not ready to lose you. I miss you. I want you in my life. You're one of the best people I've ever met. You're someone I'd be honored to call my friend.”

Kurt almost stopped there, almost allowed fear to keep him quiet. He'd come too far though, and something told him that unless he put all his cards on the table now he'd come to regret it.

“I'm not going to lie. I'd love for us to be more than friends again – would love it if you gave me a chance to love you, because I could. So easily.

“And if you're willing to try, again, if you're willing to trust me with your heart? This time? This time I'm ready. This time I'm free to move on, to commit. It would be just the two of us, no ghosts, if you're willing to give me a chance even though I haven't deserved it.”

Kurt held his breath, impatient for an answer and scared of one at the same time. Seconds ticked by and became a minute, then two and three, and Kurt's heart sank. Maybe he was too late. Maybe he'd misread Adam, again, and all this was just about closure to the other man.

You know you had to try though. Even if nothing comes of it, you hadto. The inner whisper came, as it occasionally did these days, in Finn's voice, and Kurt listened. You had to do this for your sake, because you'd never have been truly free otherwise, but most of all? You needed to do this for him. Either way you'll be fine, little brother. You know you will. You're strong enough to stand on your own if you have to.

He was broken out of his musings by Adam drawing a shaky breath, then speaking, voice a little wavering with emotion.

“Hi. My name is Adam.”

“Hi, Adam. I'm Kurt. It's a pleasure meeting you. I don't want to be too forward, but you seem like a really amazing guy. Would you like to meet up for a cup of tea some day? Maybe catch a movie?”

And as Adam met his smile with one of his own, almost as brilliant as the ones from before, Kurt felt his heart burst with joy and the soft hum of a triumphant melody rise in his soul.

See? I told you you'll be fine. Love doesn't have to hurt, little brother. Not when you do it right. He'll show you, just you see.

~ The End ~

[amywritesthings]

I promise, more Kino is on the horizon! Thank you so very much for the reblog <3

ownership of mine.

Pairing: Kino Loy x Reader (ANDOR)

Word Count: 3.7K

Summary: The Empire has settled on a new experiment involving prison integration, with you as a test subject as one of the few women in Narkina 5. In a surprise turn of events, the manager of the unit takes you under his wing – but for reasons you didn’t anticipate.

Warnings: Rated M – Prison, Implied Power Imbalance, Age Difference, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Mentions of Violence/Death (please note: because this is a prison, there is a fear of assault but no assault happens)

A/N: As is the Amy way, I wrote this in about four hours. Kino Loy is so goddamn fine. This could become a 2 or 3 parter, should people be interested.

( Read on AO3 )

Keep reading

[tansyuduri]

7 and 8

favorite modern merlin headcanon? In my fics he is SUPER RICH. Like this boi has been investing in banks since they were invented and can predict the stock market. He uses a lot of that money to help people (Dunwanna give too many details yet) and basically single handedly funds everything once they go back to camalot castle. Like He is Rolling in money and was collecting it because when Albions time of need came who knew what would be needed. Favorite modern Arthur headcanon?

This man is a chocoholic. Also loves phones. He is also VERY excited about the existence of HEMA.

[sunofmoon]

tagged by the lovelies: @mebiselfandi @neysdoll @lioneymessilva & @seedlessmuffins 🤍 ty for tagging me <333 🤍🫶🏽 (as always i'm very late for the games 😳🫣)

currently reading: i'm in a terrible, horrible, hellish literary hangover that won't let me go (maybe it was the amount of psychology books i read for my course that finally burned out my brain), but it's not totally affecting my ability bc i'm reading two neymessi fics and one of them is by my love aka val <3

favourite colour: black (or black & white), purple and navy blue are my favorite colors but in general dark colors attract me more

last song: o leãozinho by caetano veloso 🫶🏽 this song brings me good feelings besides reminding me of leo so it's only fair that I listen to it on his day ✨️

last movie: knives out! it is amazing how every time i see ana de armas i feel like marrying her

sweet/spicy/savoury: although i like salty foods the answer to this question is sweet! i'm a chocoholic and completely addicted to ice cream 🍦want to see me happy? buy me an ice cream! want to win my heart? give me an ice cream! besides that i'm in love with ice cream pies *sigh*

currently working on: i took a week's vacation from my job so i used this time to rest but i have to finish a course in hospital psychology, start learning spanish which is something i rlly want to do and also learn how to use pottery! these are the projects i want to get involved in ✌🏼

i'm tagging @cynicesthetic9 @footballfangworl @liomels @odenelli & @aastraeus ignore this if you don't want to do it or if you've already done it!!!!

[harlequin-hangout]

Holy shit, guys, thank you so much!! I woke up to this! This is the most notifications I’ve ever got at once 😭😭

To celebrate, (plus the fact that it’s 35°F in Florida and I’m HAPPY), asks are open and in the hands of Mob!Bucky and Dom!Loki! Jotun! Loki too, but you may have to ask him nicely 🥶❄️ They’ll have control until 8:30 EST Monday morning. Thank you so much again, and Happy Asking!

Also, let me know if you want on the tag list for either of me works, or just a general character tag list!!

For a Mortal Tag List: @vbecker10 @sititran @lokixryss @vickie5446

The Winter Storm Tag List: @vbecker10 @caritobbg @the-chocoholic-writer @waywardcrow @aestheticanimegirl15 @prettylittlepluviophile

All Fics Taglist: @vbecker10 @thomase1

[makialene]

Public announcement:

@an-anxious-chocoholic writes their fics in fucking comic sans like a goddamn psychopath

[waywardsou2]

No one Tagged me but I really want to do this so I'm gonna do it anyway and start a chain!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? I currently have 14 but hoping to have many more into the future

2. What's your total Ao3 word count? 105, 991 (and a few of those are ongoing WIPs / Abandoned WIPs)

3. What fandoms do you write for? At the moment mostly The Bad Batch, but I'm hoping to do more into the wider Star Wars community. I also wrote for Supernatural, How to Train your Dragon, My Hero Academia and Marvel

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Sleepy Mornings - A Destiel Smut fic (53 Kudos) Welcome to Mary's Popin - Another Destiel Smut fic (41 Kudos) Lost, But never gone - A Tech fix it fic (on-going) (38 Kudos) What did you do to my angel?! - A Destiel Hurt/Comfort fic (30 Kudos) Love on the Road - Fluffy Destiel one-shot (26 Kudos)

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes OMG I can't believe there are people out there who don't. I start kicking my feet whenever I see a comment on my work (which isn't very often) so of course I respond

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? My Marvel Trauma one-shots is probably has the angstiest ending because I just rewrite the scene in my image without fixing it at all. So I make it angstier than it already. I think that's the closest to what I have

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Supernatural Pride is most likely my happiest one because I wanted to spread some love and comfort for Pride month like...two years ago I think

8. Do you get hate on fics? So far no. But I'm still kinda waiting, yk. Like I'm not invincible and not everyone is going to like my work so...yeah :)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I have, and I can. But it's not my first choice. Usually its MLM, I'm not comfortable with writing WLM, so I just don't.

10. Do you ever write crossovers? I haven't but I have a few planned that I would like to write eventually!

11. Eleven disappeared I guess?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope, I am not that popular lol.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I have tried on two accounts before but I never completed them. So...no.

14. What's your all time favorite ship? Out of every ship?! Dude you are making me choose? Oh damn well...I gotta say Destiel but I have so many it's way to hard to choose one.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? My Eret Son of Eret x Trans reader fic. IDFK what I was thinking when I wrote that...but I did. And it's currently collecting dust and I don't think I will ever dust it off and work on it again. There would have to be a very specific occurrence for that to happen.

16. What are your writing strengths? Uhmmmm...I guess I would say that my strengths lie in my ability to write a pre-existing character as they were originally designed. i often find that some fics make pre-existing characters ooc and it's frustrating but I would say that I'm not bad at that.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Grammar. Dude every fucking time, not matter how much I try to edit and check over my work there are always grammatical errors.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic? I do it sometimes when it's relevant, like in Na'vi or with words like Kriff and such but I don't often include lengthy dialogue in different languages. Just a word here or there.

19. First fandom you wrote for? My Hero Academia sigh I'm not proud of it, and tbh it's so fucking cringe but I was young and agsty and...yeah we aren't gonna talk about it

20. Favorite fic you've written? So far it would have to be my Tech fix it fic. It's my most recent one but damn is it a whole load of fun and I cannot wait to continue it!

Tag list...omg I don't even know I'm gonna have to check my moots list and writers I follow

@aaaaawolfquarters @tbbtechlover @kurlyfrii @jedi-hawkins @stars-n-spice @the-chocoholic-writer @amansabastris @ippyhaj @flowersareverypretty @winters-secret-star-wars-blog @fionajames @disastercyborgecho @thisisallyourfaultmiguel

20 Questions for Fic Writers

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 75

2. What's your total Ao3 word count? 92,568

3. What fandoms do you write for? Currently, Star Wars (mostly Bad Batch); however, I've written for a lot of TV shows over the years. (I prefer TV shows over movies simply because I can get to know the characters better and have a better feel for them when writing)

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

1. Unconventionally Easy (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) - a pre-Order 66 story about a mission gone awry for the Batch. 2. I Miss You (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) - Echo finds an unexpected message from a brother. 3. Regroup (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) - Tech and Omega have to leave Hunter and Wrecker behind when a job for Cid goes sideways. 4. Just Sit With Me (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) - A Cadet Batch fic featuring young Crosshair and Tech. 5. Resilient (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) - Echo struggles with his PTSD.

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes! It's one of my favorite parts of writing fan fiction!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? This one is really hard since I did Whumptober and Febuwhump and Angstpril 😅 I'd have to say maybe Haunting Failures or Sick Day (although my readers would probably choose different ones).

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Probably the Stardust Conspiracy or Detail Work.

8. Do you get hate on fics? In other fandoms, I have...I have yet to experience hate in this fandom.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I don't read or write or watch it...not my thing.

10. Do you ever write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? I haven't really written any...but I did kinda play with the idea of writing a Psych and Bones crossover 😂 I was gonna call it The Psychic in the Capital.

11. ?? (there was no question for #11...so I'll just say....nothing, I guess)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not that I am aware of, but that would be so cool!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Kind of! I wrote Where Fears Are Born & When Fears Are Faced as companion pieces of @just-here-with-my-thoughts' fic Phobia. And then @just-here-with-my-thoughts wrote a couple cute companion pieces for The Stardust Conspiracy! (Find the Stardust collection here!)

14. What's your all time favorite ship? Kanan and Hera 🥰😭

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Mmmmm...I don't know. Any WIPs I have chapters posted for I have plans to finish...the ones slowly dying in my folder, however...😅

There's a Fives Survives AU I've been writing where he's actually the one who finds and rescues Omega from Kamino that I would really like to see through.

16. What are your writing strengths? I love character studies, so I feel like that really helps my writing!

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I hate writing action scenes...and I tend to lean heavily on dialogue.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic? The only time I've used "another language" in a fic is when I have clones use Mando'a words...but they don't usually use full sentences.

19. First fandom you wrote for? When I was an early teen I wrote for the Disney show Pair of Kings. 😂 However, I think I deleted the story after a couple of days...the first fandom I stuck to for a bit of time and still have stories floating around out there was Bonanza.

20. Favorite fic you've written? Basically any story I've written with the boys as cadets. They All Fall Down is probably one of my favorites, just because it reminds me so much of growing up with siblings. I also loved writing the Stardust Conspiracy.

Thank you for tagging me, @the-little-moment! This was so fun!!

Is it possible to tag all my moots?? Because I wanna see all your answers...(**cough**cough**if you've read this far, consider yourself TAGGED)

[incorrectrawhidequotes]

Rowdy; "Will you marry me?"

Gil; "Is that a ring pop?"

Rowdy; "Is that a no?"

[gryfon-spanish-werewolf]

Stealth and Sweets

My bigger projects have felt kind of heavy lately, so here’s a little story my brother and I cooked up that’s just for fun. Everyone likes chocolate right? And if you don’t like chocolate well... Elsa shenanigans are good too.

ao3 I ff.net

---------

After another long but exciting day in Arendelle, Anna walks the halls of her home, winding down for the evening. Kristoff has already gone to sleep, not so stealthily sneaking out to the stables to room with Sven. He would probably never get truly comfortable living indoors, and Anna was okay with that. Sometimes a good snuggle pile was what everyone needed.

For her part she’d probably never stop moving, always one step in front of the other. It’s just nice to roam, without needing to be anywhere. This way she gets to say goodnight to the paintings too, a habit she hasn’t wanted to break.

She’s about to go to bed when something catches her eye. A light in the hallway. A light that definitely wasn't there before. Strangest of all is that it’s coming from under the door to her office.

“This would be a terrible time to tell me you’ve been haunting the castle,” she mutters to the portrait of her parents as she passed, hands bunching up her skirts. Equally possible was that a servant had lit a fire in the room thinking she’d be up late working, and that was something she couldn’t ignore. Freezing to death had been one thing, burning to death was another. Not that she was keeping a list.

But when she arrives it wasn’t a fire burning toasty in the fireplace that greets her but the flame from a small oil lamp, set on top of her writing desk.

That’s… even more strange, especially because the flame is purple and casts the room in an odd light.

Then her eyes pop and her jaw drops and she has to believe she’s already gone to bed and is dreaming because there was absolutely no mistaking the fact that Elsa was in this room.

Actually that was generous. Elsa was definitely in the room, but what that really meant was that Elsa was currently on her hands and knees under the desk, talking to herself.

Anna can’t help herself, she just blurts it out. “Elsa!?”

“Huh?” Thunk. “Owwwww…”

Anna rushes forward, apologies already on her lips. Elsa rubs the back of her head, wincing. “Elsa are you okay? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you but I mean, you are under my desk, well, your desk, well actually Mama and Papa’s desk and-- you know what nevermind, how’s your head?”

“It’s fine Anna, thank you.” Elsa smiles, pulling her hand away gingerly, “Though I’ll probably have a lump tomorrow.”

The obvious question is, “Why are you here?”, followed closely by, “How did you get in here without letting anyone know?” Anna asks the second question first.

“Oh,” Elsa has the gall to look a little sheepish, sending Anna’s brain into a bit of a tailspin, which makes what Elsa says afterwards borderline incomprehensible. “I froze the latch to the window after I asked Gale to carry me up. I rode Nokk around the back of the castle because I didn’t want anyone to worry about why I’d come in the middle of the night, and of course, hooves made of water don’t make that much noise. And Bruni well, Bruni just wanted to come along, but he was helpful once I found the lamp.”

As if on cue, the little fire spirit squeaks from where he’s been hiding in the bookshelves and leaps out, landing on Elsa’s head.

Anna blinks, looking between her sister and Bruni, then the large window on the far wall whose latch was indeed frozen and would need to be replaced. “That’s… Okay I’m a little mad about the window but otherwise that’s actually super cool and I'm kind of jealous. You’re just like those adventure stories we used to play as kids!” Then her expression turns serious. “Hang on, I’m not going to find an Earth Giant pretending to be a mountain-sized statue in the courtyard am I?”

Elsa pales. “Why? Did you see them?”

“Please, please tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m joking.” But Elsa didn’t really meet Anna’s eye and started stroking Bruni’s belly instead.

“Elsa,” Anna steps forward, cupping her hands beneath her sister's. Bruni rolls into her hands, making happy noises. “You know you don’t need a whole action scene montage to get into your own home. You live here.”

So they’re back to the obvious question.

Elsa bites her lip. She still won’t look Anna in the eye but it’s for a different reason this time. Anna tacks worry on top of curiosity. “Did something happen?”

“No, nothing happened,” Elsa says, shaking her head, and Anna can tell she’s being truthful. “The Northuldra are amazing people. They’re doing thirty years worth of damage control and many are like me, awed and giddy and learning. Yelena is patient and kind, if curt, but being steeped in the heritage we never knew we had is… amazing.” A light had kindled in Elsa’s eye as she spoke but now she falters. “But it’s not home.”

Anna thinks she hears the “yet” at the end of that sentence but she doesn’t like the feeling it dredges up so she keeps it down. Though, Elsa didn’t say “yet”, so maybe that counts for something too.

“Well, you’re always welcome here Elsa, even unannounced,” Anna grins. “Especially unannounced. Just, don’t go though anymore windows or my hair is going to start looking like yours.”

“Blonde?”

“Grey.”

“Ah.”

They stand in companionable silence for a few moments before Elsa sighs. “Actually, the reason I came back is pretty simple.” Anna tilts her head, perplexed. Bruni, who had crawled up her shoulder, zips down her arm and onto the wood top of the desk, just as curious. Elsa crouches down to fumble under the desk again. Anna hears the click of a latch and a panel opens up that she never knew about before. Elsa stands back up and plops a small, worn box on the desk that Bruni immediately investigates. But Anna has to take a step back because--

“The Northuldra... have many wonderful desserts,” Elsa confessed as Anna starts laughing, doubled over with hands clutched over her stomach. “But they don’t have chocolate. And I really miss chocolate.”

Anna gulps down air as she tries to speak. “So that’s why… that’s why I could always smell chocolate when I was working! I thought I’d spilled something at some point.”

Elsa fails to hide a smile behind her hand. “Well it’s a secret stash for a reason.”

“But we don’t keep secrets anymore.” Anna wipes tears from her eyes, a mischievous smile unfurling.

“And if you steal any,” Elsa warns, “I’m going to have Gale drop all of your notes into the fjord when you’re not looking.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Elsa opens her mouth in retort, but it falls into a tight smile. “You’re right, I’d miss getting them.”

Anna’s expression softened. She eased the box open, retrieving two pieces and handed one to Elsa. She chips a chunk off for Bruni, who licks his eyeball before and after trying a bite. “Then how about we share. I’ll make sure it’s always stocked with your favorites and you’ll have to stash some fun Northduldra treats in return.”

Elsa taps her chin pensively. “You strike a hard bargain Queen Anna, but I find the terms of this arrangement agreeable.”

Anna pops her chocolate into her mouth. “All in a day’s work. Now,” she pushes Elsa towards the door. “Say goodnight to the spirits; it’s late and some of us have to get up early tomorrow.”

Elsa says her goodbyes through a mouthful of her own chocolate piece and lets Anna lead her down the hallway. She says something about knowing where to go and Anna tosses an ‘If-you’re-gonna-act-like-a-guest-I’m-going-to-escort-you-like-one’ look over her shoulder. Elsa just smiles and threads her fingers through Anna’s. 

On their way Anna jerks to a stop, staring out the window. Then she carries on, ignoring Elsa’s questioning look to the back of her head.

There was an enormous, suspicious looking rock sculpture on the far side of the fjord, but she really doesn’t want to deal with it right now.

Instead she just says, “Please don’t ever sneak into the castle again.”

Elsa seems to know exactly what she was talking about, and sounds appropriately chastised.

“I’ve... definitely had better ideas.”

[killemwithkawaii]

Sal Fisher 💌🔪[Yandere, AUs and xOCs]

Sal X yandere!y/n

A sex demon has taken a liking to Sal... Kidnapping Sally Listening to Sal have some 'me time' through the wall Sally teaching [y/n] to play guitar (not knowing they didn't actually intend to learn it) Some stuff to do while Stalking Sally Yandere!Darling kidnapping Sal (and he doesn't exactly mind) Yan!Darling pulling a 'The Homecoming Queen's Got a Gun' for Sally Yan!y/n killing Ash to be with Sal Yan!Y/N and exchange student!Sally Yandere Sal x reader (#Love Sick Sally) Having a bath with (Lovesick)househusband!Sal Jock!Darling finding Yan!Cheerleader!Sallys secret picture of them Knitting Love-Sick Sally a sweater Laundry Day (A full-length collaborative fic with @apartment-403) Love-Sick Sally and Yan! Kewk comforting you after a breakup (with sketch) Love-Sick Sally being like a big brother to his darling (at least at first) Love-Sick Sally catches you in a Helga Pataki-esque monologue about him Love-Sick Sally comforts his darling when they're feeling bad about themselves (with sketch) Love-Sick Sally fantasizing about his darling, y/n (with sketch) Love-Sick Sally getting Broken Up With Love-Sick Sally listening to his darling through the wall Love-sick Sallys Neighbor being a willing Darling Love-Sick Sally with a Nurse Darling ✨NEW✨ Sals kinks Sal as your Yandere Best Friend (forever and ever) Some general NSFW(ish) headcanons for Love-Sick Sally The gang helping Love-Sick Sally control himself around his darling Yan!Cheerleader!Sal and his Jock!Darling Yan!Darling getting yan!Sally alone Yan!Sal as his darlings channel moderator Yan!Sal and his chocoholic darling Yan!Sal and his DTF darling Yan!Sal and his S/Os arranged marriage Yan!Sal and his soulmate darling Yan!Sal and his soulmate can't (and don't) wait until they get home Yan!Sal letting his darling use his shower- Yan!Sal in the workplace Yan!Sal Snapping (with sketch) Yan!Sals soulmate dating Larry instead Yan!Sals soulmate makes the first move Yan!Sals soulmate makes the first move (spice addition) Yan!Sal with a Sugar Mommy Yan!Sal working at his darlings favorite coffee shop Yandere Sal and his darling sleeptalking Yandere Sal taking care of his sick s/o

AUs and X OCs

~Demon!Sal

All about demon!Sal About Demon Sals tail and spit Demon Sal and his forcibly-baptized master Demon Sal and his masters cat Demon Sal and his reincarnated darling Demon Sal and his s/o getting into a teasing contest Demon Sal and physical affection Demon Sal being summoned by a nun Demon Sal being yandere for his master Demon Sal finding out that his s/o is now immortal Demon Sal following his master to class Demon Sal getting his shy s/o to dom him Demon Sal spending quarantine with his darling (with sketch) Demon Sal teasing his s/o with his tail in public Demon Sal with an aging s/o Demon Sal with a master whos in an unsatisfying relationship Demon!Sal with a master who likes camping Demon Sal with a master whos upset about their own mortality Demon Sals mask gets knocked off Demon Sals master needs a moment to themselves Demon Sals personality before and after he was cast out Demon Sal with a master who teases him Demon Sal with a darling who returned his feelings Demon Sals s/o in demon-themed lingere Has demon Sal truly loved a human? Is Demon Sal yandere? Small!Demon!Sal sucking off his AFAB transmasc master What does Demon Sally think of modern inventions? When Demon Sallys master dies ~Misc. Bunny!Sally Headcanons IceBreath!Sal Sal and his Psychic Eldritch Monster s/o (OC Bliss) Sal and his Psychic Eldritch Monster s/o: Can the monster take a human form? (OC Bliss) Sex with Mer!Sal Some Mer!Sal NSFW HCs Some More Mer!Sal NSFW HCs Werewolf Sal teaching his s/o how to howl

[chocoholicannanymous]

Evil Author Day #2

February 15th is Evil Author Day - you can read more about it on Jilly James' site, but in short it's about posting titles or descriptions or parts of stuff that's not actually ready for posting, the evil part being that there are no promises what so ever that there will be more.

What I'm posting under the EAD-tag either isn't finished and might never be, or it could be considered finished only I'm not happy with it.

Either way: Enjoy. Or not.

Stockholm Syndrome and Misery

“Kurt... Your dad, I, look. He didn't come off in the best way, I have to admit that, but boo, you have to admit he has a point.” I do? “He loves you, and he wants what's best for you, and this? This isn't working. Yes, things are worse now because of Karofsky, but honestly? Things haven't really been okay for a long time.

“Karofsky might be who you're focusing on right now, but he's not the only one, and you know it. Even if they hadn't allowed him to come back, someone else would have taken his place, and then what? You gonna ask the school to expel them too? Where does it end? And what will you do when you can't hide behind coach Sylvester any longer?”

And that, that is pure resentment in her voice. Mercedes never had accepted the fact that coach Sylvester liked him better than her, that he'd stayed when she left, that he'd had success as a Cheerio. It had been, ultimately, why he'd left, even though the Cheerios would have been an excellent addition to his college application in a year, and he'd given it up. And for what? A friend that apparently isn't going to be the support he needs.

“You asked for my help. Well, here's what you should do. Your dad is trying to help you. Let him. Do as he says. Blend in more, you know, dress more normal, tone things down a little. I'll be your girlfriend, that should help – Mr H has always liked me. And you should start coming to church with me.

“I didn't want to push earlier, not when your dad was still recovering, but the way you reacted when he was in the hospital wasn't healthy. Striking out like that at your friends, when all we wanted to do was to help you, that... It just isn't right. If you feel as if you can't accept God in your heart, then you need help to do so. I'll help you, Kurt, as will your family. All you need to do is help us.”

He can barely believe his ears. Yes, it had become obvious earlier that Mercedes wasn't going to be the rock he needs her to be, but this? This isn't just not being a rock, this is being as unsupportive as is possible, this is being actively against him. No matter how she presents is, this is Mercedes Jones taking a stand against everything that he is.

And he thought she loved him as much as he loved her.

“Kurt?”

“Sorry. Look, Mercedes, this was... You gave me a lot to think about, okay? I... I need to talk to dad again, and. I'll call you later.”

He doesn't know if he will, of course, nor if he's going to talk to his dad any time soon, but he's desperate to get away. He's about to break down completely, and he needs to not be on the phone with Mercedes when he does so. He needs to not let her catch on to what he's really feeling.

She blabs on for a while, and he makes what he hopes is appropriate noises, but he's not listening. He just wants to go.

So. He already knows he can't be straight. He can't. Coming out, even to himself, wasn't something he just did. He hadn't labeled himself “gay” lightly, or for fun. It had just been the only truth that had fit.

Kurt remembers spending countless nights agonizing over it, being afraid, hoping he'd run into a girl that would do it for him. He never wanted to be gay, to be seen as abnormal and disgusting, he'd just learned to accept that he was, and then tried to not see himself as any of the slurs thrown at him.

It had been Mercedes herself, in a way, that had forced him to come to terms. She's gorgeous, with all the qualities he wants in a partner – with the exception of her gender. He's always seen this, and surely, if any girl should be able to make him feel anything but admiration and friendship, it should be her.

Up until that point he'd still held out in the hopes of being at least bi – Finn had been the last blow to his denial when it came to being attracted to boys, but he'd still not been ready to accept that he was gay – but realizing Mercedes had feelings for him, and it only causing him to panic... Yeah. Gay.

Brittany had only confirmed it. (Strange, how two of the most beautiful girls he knows both went for him.)

Could he try and play straight then? It didn't work last time, he's painfully aware of how much he failed then, but there's more at stake now. Because this time? He's not afraid he might be kicked out, he knows he'll be. He also knows what mistakes he made last time, as well as more about how a real teenage boy is supposed to act.

Maybe if this time he tried to copy not his dad, but Finn? That should be easier, surely, and not as obvious, right? He already knows he can perform on the football field, and while coach Beiste does have an acceptable kicker, surely she can use a back-up. There's also the fact that his face and body has changed since last year, and he has better control of his chest voice now. Maybe...

But no. Playing straight hurt and it would be even worse a second time, Kurt's pretty sure of that. This time he's experienced the freedom of not hiding, and even with the escalation it had caused in the bullying it had been worth it. Also, he's willing to bet on the fact that his dad's ultimatum wasn't about playing straight.

He can try, yes, and hope that his dad will come to his senses again, but that's a risky game. What if his dad doesn't change his mind again? What if he never gives up on having a straight son? If that's how it is, then Kurt playing straight won't help any, it'll only cause him suffering.

And for what? Trying to please a family that doesn't love him the way he is?

He'd called Mercedes in the hope that she would welcome him, that her family would allow him to stay with them, that they'd come through for him as they'd done for Quinn. Instead she'd sided with his dad. And that leaves him alone.

Mercedes is his only friend. Rachel tries to be one, when she isn't actively fighting him, but they're not that close. And if he was to go to her... Her dads would most likely offer him a place, yes, out of some sort of queer solidarity, but they would – or so he believes – also try and mediate. And there is no way Burt Hummel would allow the son he wants to turn straight to go live with Lima's only out gay couple.

As for the rest of the glee club, and the adults surrounding him... None of the other kids would back him up. Brittany might, yes, but she could just as easily do as Mercedes had. Staying with her could ruin things between her and Artie though, even if somehow it didn't manage to give Brittany the wrong ideas.

Mr Schue doesn't really care about him, that much is obvious, and Miss Pillsbury is frankly useless. Coach Sylvester... No, best not go there.

Besides, he knows how much these people care about a teen getting kicked out of their home. He'd gotten all the evidence he needs the year before, when no one had raised as much as a finger to help Quinn. Mercedes had been the only one, and to realize she is less willing to back him up than Quinn breaks his heart. It's reason enough to ensure that even should he decide to go with his dad's demands, he won't ever do so the way she had suggested.

He's thought of Mercedes as his best friend, his sister almost, and it's a hard painful blow to his heart that she apparently doesn't value him the same way he does her.

If he can't return home, and can't get any help in Lima, then there's only one solution: he needs to leave. Run away.

He's not exactly equipped to run away though. Sure, he's got his wallet and his cell, but that's it. No jacket, much too thin clothing, shoes unsuited for walking around outside... He needs more. Luckily he knows exactly where to get it.

For once the brutal reality of McKinley is working for him. His locker is filled to the max, and just about everything in it is something he can use now. There, a bag of unused gym clothes – the shorts and tee are mainly useless, sure, but it's clothing and so he takes them anyway. The sneakers are perfect. And over there, two complete outfits in case he needs to change during the day (he almost always has to) and of course his “emergency kits”, one a toiletry bag for dealing with slushies – complete with travel towel, soap, shampoo, moisturizer and clean underwear; one a well-stocked first aid kit and the last one a miniature sowing kit – with everything from needles, thread and pins to buttons, three kinds of fabric cleaner and patches.

He's got more though. A water bottle, some energy bars, dried fruit, nuts, chocolate... His old mp3 player, an emergency $50, a pair of out of style sunglasses, a rescue blanket, a thin rain cape and a paperback he hasn't gotten around to reading yet. All of it gets thrown into the gym bag.

He's still not done. Kurt knows that the chances of his dad letting him just leave aren't that great, if not because he wants his gay son at home so at least because it doesn't look good to have your kid run away, and that means he needs to disguise himself.

The theater department is just as sadly underfunded as everything else not football or cheerleading, meaning most of their supplies are donated. That makes it “normal” clothes though, and not exactly well documented. The chances of anyone realizing that the items he takes are missing are minimal, and even if they do he'll be far away by then. Dressed in baggy khakis, a ratty windbreaker, his sneakers and a OSU hoodie he looks nothing like his regular self – except for from the neck up.

He snatches a pair of blackrimmed glasses (outfitted with window glass, apparently) and nods. That looks better. Not perfect though... But. There's a pair of clippers in one of the drawers. It's a horrible thought, but getting away is more important than looks, and so Kurt gives himself a buzz cut.

The face he sees in the mirror doesn't look like his own. He'd be horrified, normally, but right now that's the effect he wants, and so he nods.

Time to get out.

Hiking through town is much easier now, when he's dressed somewhat appropriately, but he's still happy when he manages to catch a ride. The truck is from out of state, and the tired trucker barely looks at him, only nods when Kurt tells him – using his lower register – that he's looking to “get back” to school. The “visit with the girlfriend's family didn't go well” excuse is accepted, and Kurt breathes a little easier when they cross Lima city limits.

The secondhand store in XXX opens at ten. Kurt waits until 10:20, thinking he'll be too noticeable if he's hanging on the lock, waiting for them to open. The owner listens to him, looks at the outfit and the shoes Kurt offers up, and nods. He gets ripped off, he knows it, but in the end he doesn't care. What's important right now isn't what Kurt payed for those clothes, or what they're worth – it's what he can get in exchange.

And that is more than he'd dared hope for. A backpack, well-used but in good shape, a sleeping bag, a pair of boots that are scuffed but still in good condition, a second pair of pants and a small camping stove. He even manages to get a wool cap and a pair of thin gloves out of the deal. There's a hunting store nearby; he'll stop there and buy some warm socks, and some camping food, and move on. The sooner he gets out of Ohio, he thinks, the better.

For once the fact that his country is so divided will work for him.

[amywritesthings]

I'm so happy you loved it!!!! Thank you very much for the reblog xo

ownership of mine. (2/3)

Pairing: Kino Loy x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.7K

Summary: You have been in Narkina 5 for four months. The unit believes you are in a secret relationship with Kino Loy. (Are you?)

Warnings: Rated M / Prison, Implied Power Imbalance, Age Difference, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Sensuality, Eating, 'Oh No There's Only One Bed!' trope

A/N: I am overwhelmed by the support this little fic received this week. I'm so glad we're on the USS Loy thirst ship together.

                          PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE

( Read on AO3 )

They don’t bother you.

All morning, the thought lays at the pit of your stomach. Standing in Winshaw’s former position, you pass your finished part to Gris in the assembly line. No one looks you in the eye. No one brings their head up. It’s hard work, through and through, with productivity off the charts.

Not if they think you’re mine.

Maybe you have subconsciously played into this narrative without meaning to do so. The first (and only) person to swear to your safety was Kino — it was only natural that you gravitated towards his light, his dedication, to make sure everyone in this unit stays healthy, fed and ready.

Now you know the truth of it all: when you entered the fifth floor, Kino greeted you not only with his name, but one very specific sentiment: I own you now.

Perhaps he said the same to every inmate under his care, but this? This was different — he claimed you, marked you, the minute you set foot on the factory floor in a way that set you apart from the rest.

Last night, Kino seemed to gain little to no pleasure from admitting the rumor. The look on his face wasn’t gleeful, nor was the truth spoken as an opportunity.

He sounded embarrassed about entertaining an archaic sentiment to keep his unit civil.

For the remaining week, you silently work yourself to the bone to produce as many mechanical behemoths your body will allow. Sweat and blood mixes with cracked skin, pained knuckles, and newborn calluses.

Worst of all is that you feel Kino’s eyes on you when he stalks past Table Four in his rounds. You only look up when you’re passing a part to Gris. 

Across the table, Trem is the first to voice his concern — the mousy inmate murmurs your name every kriffing day at the end of every kriffing shift like he’s scared of a woman possessed, hoping one time he’ll catch your attention and talk you off a ledge.

You ignore him.

You ignore all of them.

You have to prove your worth is more than the rumors, even if these men mean little to you.

.

.

.

.

.

.

        Sixteen days later, Table Four secures first place.

The call is down to the wire, but when Kino shouts for time’s up, it’s Table Four that reigns victorious for the most amount of finished items on their cart. 

Gris and Pusl cheer like they’ve won the credits lottery, hugging everyone down the table line as they whoop and holler — and purposefully avoid you, because they’ve learned their lesson the first time and don’t intend to repeat mistakes when he is within earshot.

Trem is the only man willing to take the leap of faith. His baby-fat face sports a wide, appreciative smile as he rounds the table and ducks into your downcast view. Trem bumps you with his shoulder, a nudge at best, with an endearing timidness.

He mouths a thank you, because he’s well aware why this worked in the first place.

Because of you. 

Because you made it work.

Yet you don’t feel the joy that should come with this win. In fact, you don’t feel much of anything beyond anger. Hatred, perhaps, that they reap the benefits of your negotiated success. 

Negating the celebration to enter the barracks early, you stalk to the elevator alone and wait in the back as each table files in. You are the last to leave the elevator, but the first to enter your cell.

Like clockwork — like his promise — Kino arrives minutes later to find you trying the coveted flavored tube food for the first time.

Within a fortnight, his post-shift visits have soured. What once was a breath of relief now hangs with an expectation. For the past two weeks, he's visited yet nothing is said. What can you say when the rest of Unit Five-Two-D watches, waits, to see if he'll take you himself? 

Ignorant to the passing stares, Kino leans his forearm against the trim of your cell, observing from the main floor rather than inviting himself in.

“Flavoring makes a difference, yeah?”

He looks a few years younger, almost… happy? If you’re so bold as to think he has the capacity not to scowl. A ghost of a smile lingers on his lips while he quirks a brow to you.

Carefully removing the tube from your mouth, you let the words marinate for a second before pulling more of the tube from the wall. “Do you want some?”

He chuckles under his breath. “I’m not allowed any.” 

“But we’re swapping spit anyway.”

Albeit a cruel gesture, you extend your arm and offer the tube to him, expression blank. The smile on Kino’s face fades, dropping the raised arm to his side. His broad chest puffs and falls with a tired exhale.

However instead of walking away, Kino takes the bait and steps into your cell. His hand raises, outstretched to take the tube, but his fingers fall over your fist. He says nothing at first, allowing the moment to play in silence, only to push the tube back to you.

Then he calls your bluff: the day shift manager drops in height slowly, inch by inch, until he kneels right in front of your cot.

The other can — and with your shotty luck, will — see.

“Don’t let them take this from you,” he murmurs with an earnest sense of pride. You let him manipulate your limb, guiding your hand over and up to your lips. “You earned this.”

You hate him.

You hate that you wish you hated him.

Your jaw clenches, head shaking. “I don’t feel like—”

“Stop.” Unwarranted kindness to your cruelty; he interrupts and raises the tube again, urging you to take a sip of the flavored liquid. “You did. Do I make myself clear?” His tone bubbles an intense emotion in the middle of your throat, almost causing your dreary eyes to water. “Say it.”

“Kino—”

“Say it.”

You earned this.

Your lower lip trembles as you lean in, taking the tube from his fingers. “I earned it.”

Kino frowns, following you as you take the tube into your mouth. “Wouldn’t lie to you, love.”

Love.

The absent term of endearment has you sucking in, sharp and fast, so you don’t have to overthink the slip of his tongue. Flavorful food fills your mouth — it’s lukewarm, but deceivingly delicious after spending months feeding on nothing but gel.

The image before you — Kino kneeling and holding the tube to your mouth as you hollow your cheeks, sucking the liquid down your throat — brings a heat to your face.

It must finally click for him, too, what he’s said — what he’s doing — because Kino blinks in rapid succession and releases the tube, clearing a tickle in his throat.

“Congratulations,” he finishes, standing once again to leave. You say nothing, can’t protest even if you want to, and follow with your eyes as he beelines straight for his cell across the way. 

He drops to a thud to his cot, head bowed and hands clasped tighter between his separate knees, and stays like that until the minute warning chimes.

.

.

.

.

.

.

        That night is plagued with restlessness. 

It must be close to two in the morning when you stir, annoyed that you can’t catch sleep. Tossing and turning to find a comfortable place, you shift towards the open mouth of your cell and open your eyes to find that Kino Loy is also not asleep.

He lays on his side, one hand flattened as a makeshift pillow, staring at you.

If it were Term or Melshi, then perhaps you’d be unsettled, but because it’s Kino, the sight is… comforting. You swallow thickly and stare back, saying nothing..

And for a few minutes, it’s only this. Watching. Waiting. Being in the company of another in the stillness of Narkina 5.

You’re not sure what possesses you to lift your hand, absently dragging fingertips down the side of your neck, but the touch is pleasant. In the dim light of the electrified floor you can see something flicker in his eyes; he’s following the movement.

Your fingers circle back and run along the same path a second time, but your breath hitches when his free hand rises to his neck, gingerly traveling up to the scruff of his jaw.

Mirroring you.

(Is he mirroring you?)

Testing the twilight theory, you change course to drag higher and along the edge of your jaw. Kino follows, rustling the salt and pepper facial hair covering the lower half of his face.

There’s something wholly erotic about the sight of his hand grazing his scruffy cheek when you touch the smooth planes of yours.

This feels forbidden.

(But why doesn’t this feel wrong? )

Nothing stops you from gliding your index finger along the seam of your lips. Kino’s hand pauses and you think maybe, just maybe, the game is over, but the older man takes his thumb and mimics the draw. Heat consumes your body, pooling between your legs as you squirm against your cot.

You want to call out to him.

You can’t.

Drunk on the power it takes to keep going, your index finger slips between your lips and Kino stops moving. His own lips part in awe, body frozen, and you wonder if he’ll groan if you hollow your cheeks.

Then Trem coughs above you.

You startle, flying to lay flat on your back, eyes to the ceiling and hands pressed to your sternum.

(What the fuck are you two doing?)

Seconds feel like hours for the room to go back to snores and nonsense babbling. And when you roll your head to look at Kino Loy, he’s turned his back to you to sleep.

Kriff.

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.

        This week Kino stops visiting your cell after shifts, but the game after dark continues.

In his absence, you’re met with surprisingly pleasant visits from Trem. The scrawny man is eager to chat your ear off about what being in a women’s prison was like, if you’ve seen the outside world in your transport, what food can’t you wait to wait once you get out of here — not if, never a doubt — before he climbs the ladder to his cell for the evening.

Kino remains nowhere to be found. Discussing productivity with Melshi, talking others out of taking the plunge to the damn floor, but never once coming to see how you’re doing.

He purposefully visits Table Four, however, during factory hours to shout at your team to push harder. 

You’re certain he’s only doing it so that he can catch your eye on the other end of the table.

His line of sight makes you burn.

You would say you miss talking to him, the nearness of him, but when you turn in your sleep and find Kino watching you from across the hall, you catch yourself missing him most like this: at the ready on the other side of the electrified barrier after an agonizing day, avoiding the unit’s watchful eye.

He waits, perfectly still, until you start with a hand on your cheek. Within a few beats, he will follow — tracing his jaw, his neck, his collarbone; you’ve thought about dipping your hand lower, to your chest or the waistband of your uniform, but you chicken out and roll to your back every time.

This sudden illicit affair consumes your thoughts so completely that your team slips from a steady second place to fourth by the tail end of the month, but you can’t find a way to care.

Unit Five-Two-D believes you are his.

You’re beginning to wonder if maybe they’re right.

In what little sleep you earn, you’re stuck fantasizing on a loop of what this could have been like. Who he might have been before his sentencing, before Narkina. Would you have met in a seedy cantina on the Outer Rim? Would you have entertained his company, bought him a drink, taken him home? Surely those arms can pick you up — you’ve seen him work, to help the tables that struggle, how misleading the Narkina uniform can be on a body. A man of little words, maybe, but another version of him whispers the filthiest of promises to a woman he barely knows against a sink, within a shower stall, at the threshold of the home you’ve left behind.

There are very few things you can focus on while serving a bullshit prison sentence.

Kino Loy just happens to become your only thing.

.

.

.

.

.

.

        After today’s grueling shift, you’re one of the last people to shower. When you first stepped foot into the stall, the time ticked on: twenty minutes until light’s out. By the time you’re finished grooming and changing, you have about a minute and a half to get settled in your cell.

Except that isn’t what you’re going to do.

The shrill chimes of a minute’s warning sound above you when you’re only three cells from yours. Kino has already retired to his cot, freshly washed and fed. He doesn’t regard you because the lights are still on.

You stop in the middle of the floor, contemplating on impulse.

(You shouldn’t.)

Maybe the rumors of your situationship with Kino have died down, but that doesn’t explain whatever the fuck this past week has been.

You can’t do the same again, not tonight.

(Thirty seconds.)

Rather than turning right towards your cell, you casually step up and to the left — right into Kino Loy’s cell.

The wall is deceiving; at first your hand slips, forcing you to press both to maintain your balance.

That gets his attention on impact. Kino’s attention snaps from the ceiling to you, eyes widened like oversized factory floor bolts, and he leaps clear off the cot with his arms gesturing wide.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he snaps in that familiar drill sergeant tone. “Minute’s nearly done.”

“I’m staying here tonight.”

“You’re what?” 

His surprise bursts, voice louder than anticipated. It causes a few men in the surrounding cells to peek their heads out, observing the commotion. Kino’s face gradually turns several shades of red with each passing, precious second.

“Go back to your cell. Now. That’s an order,” he hisses. You wait at the edge of his cell, shaking your head. “You’ve only twenty seconds.”

“Fifteen,” you correct, half-convinced he’ll shove you onto the hardwired floor to make a point.

“Are you insane?” He’s never stood so close before, practically nose to nose. You can smell the scent of his toothpaste and body soap.

The chime signals that ten seconds remain, and the electrified ring around the prison floor twinkles in its prepped glow. Kino looks stricken, caught between rock and a hard place to find a way to push you the hell out without frying you outright. 

You boldly duck your attention to catch him.

“They think I’m yours, remember?” you murmur. 

His forehead smooths, the realization catching up a moment too late.

Three. Two. One. 

The floor turns a brilliant red and simmers to a deathly off-white, and in a panic Kino wraps an arm around your waist to drag you to him and away from the cell’s edge.

His grip remains harsh on your body, and it’s here you truly see the strength hidden under prison uniform. Taut muscles press into you, locking you in place, and you can’t help but feel a little dizzy from the proximity.

Trapped. 

You’re trapped in his cell until the morning alarms, and Kino is beyond irate.

“You’re out of fucking line, kid,” he growls into your face, candid in his fury.

“Everyone will ignore us in a minute,” you reply, observing the aging crow’s feet around his eyes. “If they think you’ve stuck some arbitrary claim on me, then it doesn’t make sense—”

“You could have been bloody killed. ” 

“—if I never sneak over here at night.”

Puffs of his breath tickle your lips as the plan registers, slowly then all at once. Keeping up appearances for the sake of your safety in the midst of your table disliking you — you want to tell yourself over and over again that that’s why you’ve crossed this burning bridge, but you would go mad if you spent another night on the other side of the firewall watching him touch his face as if it were you.

Because that’s what it was, right? He was imagining not a past lover or someone else, but you.

Kino swings you both around as he brings you flush against the wall and out of sight of the open space. For the most part, your theory proves correct — someone on the far side cat-call whistles, causing a few men to chuckle, but the floor quiets until it’s just Kino Loy holding you hostage with your back to a wall and his arm around your waist.

“There isn’t enough room for us to both sleep on a cot,” he finally says under his breath, and you breathlessly laugh. 

“I plan to sleep on the floor, Kino.”

“Like hell you are.”

“Well you’re not sleeping on your own floor.”

A beat passes. Something darkens his expression. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

Your brows knit. “Why?”

He leans in to speak low in your ear. “Because they would expect me to happily climb into a cot with you.”

The way he says it brings back the familiar nighttime warmth that radiates through your body, your uniform, and you’re stuck staring back with a sheepishness so unlike you. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’ is right,” Kino sours, turning to look at the cot with a grimace. “Next time, tell me when you’re about to do something stupid.”

“I thought of it in the shower.”

“Yeah, well, shower’s never a good place to make concrete decisions, is it?”

Can’t argue with that. Only now does he realize the proximity, but he doesn’t pull away like you’ve electrocuted him. Instead he observes the space between you, or lack thereof.

“Heart’s about to beat out of your chest, love,” he mumbles. The privacy of his head blocking you from the barrack’s view (and his) allows you a moment to close your eyes, to simply be, when you’re not sure what to do.

“I was going to say that I thought it was your heartbeat, but you never get nervous.”

He snorts. “Why d’you think I yell so fucking loud all the time if you don’t think I get nervous?”

You smile, catching his cheek with yours. 

“I didn’t want to be over there,” you finally confess.

Kino stirs, but he doesn’t pull away. “Why not?”

“Because if I see you touch yourself one more time, I’m going to go insane.”

The statement in your head is innocent enough, but when spoken out loud it dissolves to something dirty. Kino starts to groan but suppresses the noise with a mumbled fucking hell under his breath.

When the lights of the barracks fade, shrouding you both in what little hue emits from the colored buttons on the prison cell walls, he drops his forehead against your shoulder to search for his composure.

Then he speaks, and it’s the softest his voice has ever been:

“You don’t want to start this.” 

A long pause passes. Your jaw sets. “Start what?”

You hold your breath when Kino lifts his chin, stubble tickling your cheek as he wets his lips by your ear. 

“Letting me be as much of a man as the rest of them.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie.

“I know you’re stubborn, but you’re not stupid.” He talks to the wall supporting your head, unable to look you in the eye at this confession. “You know exactly what it is I’m talking about.”

And you do. 

He speaks of the dreams your brain has plagued you with, desires you’ve barely scratched the surface of understanding.

“You’re nothing like the rest of them,” you whisper in his ear, and Kino shivers.

“I am.”

“You’re not,” you argue with more force. “Just because they forced a rumor on you—”

“Forced?” he muses humorlessly. “Look at where we are. I didn’t deny it. I didn’t tell you, not until months already passed. I let them think of you in that way. How does any of that make me less of a threat to you?”

How are you not afraid of me, is what he wants to ask. 

You say nothing, mesmerized by a blinking red light on the far wall as you tumble through your brain for a reason why you trust him over everyone else.

Why you’re drawn to this, more than anyone else.

You know why — saying so just makes it true.

“I don’t regret much of what’s happened in my life, but I’ll be damned if I’m part of why you could regret something in yours,” he concludes, disappointment lacing through his growl of a murmur.

“And did you ask me?” Finally he pulls back at your question to study you, brows furrowed. You stand your ground, forcibly staring at his face. “I’m sorry to report, sir, but you only own me on that factory floor. You do not own my decisions, or what I want, when I’m not working, so don’t act like I didn’t wait for you, too.”

Kino contemplates on this, hard, before swiping a hand down his face.

“...floor’s not gonna be the thing to kill me. You are.”

Neither of you move in the small alcove of his cell, finally face-to-face for longer than a twenty minute conversation. If you stood a fraction of an inch higher, you could kiss him. You could ruin everything and kiss him while Taga, Gris, and the rest of the floor witnesses.

(Rumors to reality. Let them see.)

“I looked forward to it,” you finally say, reaching between you to take his scruffy chin in your fingers. “Whatever the fuck we were doing. And if you’re forgetting I’m the one that started the other night, then the next — and I would’ve done the same tonight.”

Kino blinks twice, tensing at the contact before deflating. “It’s only because I told you about the—”

“I miss feeling human,” you admit, cutting him off. You chew on your lower lip, betraying your resolve and earning his undivided attention. “I miss feeling like a person, Kino. You don’t look at me like I’m a piece of meat, like I am a mistake, and it makes me feel human. This has nothing to do with what the rest of the unit thinks, so stop minimizing yourself on my behalf.”

His brows knit with concern and soon he’s moving, walking backwards and pulling you along with him. Step by opposite step, your torsos remain pressed together until the back of your knees hit his cot.

Sucking in a sharp breath, the older man slides his arm away from your waist to cup either side of your face. Kino visibly swallows when his thumb runs along your skin, so focused. (So careful.) The touch feels heavenly; something otherworldly, like you don’t deserve something so kind, something so gentile, but you lean into it like a lifeline and close your eyes.

Overcome with bliss, you bring your own hand to press against one of his, keeping his calloused fingers in place.

“Look at me.” Lazily you obey his quiet command, eyelids fluttering sluggishly to come back to him. Kino waits, determined. “If there’s one thing I can promise you, it’s that I won’t let you lose who you are in here.”

“It’s not your responsibility.”

“It is,” he decides. “You are. Have been since you came to my unit and will be until you leave it.”

Don’t make me sound noble. His words of warning echo through your head, and gradually you lower yourself to sit at the edge of his cot. Kino hovers, forever a protective statue, before sighing from his soul.

“Lie down. Turn around.”

When you whip your attention to him, he rolls his eyes.

“So we can get ready to turn in. Not sleeping with your morning breath in my bloody face.”

Scrunching your nose, you listen and slide as close to the inner wall of the prison cell as you can. You lower your body onto the surface, arm angled as a pillow while you anticipate Kino to join. His body weight shifts behind you, one knee on the cot then a hand before he molds himself to you, chest pressed tightly to your back.

You can’t — won’t — think about how your hips slot perfectly against his. 

A timid arm snakes around your middle, solidifying your place for the evening. “Is this alright?” he murmurs into the back of your neck, baritone vibrating your entire body. 

Afraid of what you may sound like, you nod and say nothing more.

You overlap your arms to get comfortable, and the world becomes impossibly too small. He grunts, woefully attempting to move without pressing his hips to yours. Your mind searches for something, anything, to say in this vulnerable state.

“I didn’t do it, you know.” The words blurt, and Kino stops moving. Go on. “What I was sentenced for.”

The arm around your middle tenses. “What do you mean?”

“I got set up. Said I committed petty theft. I had no idea the thing was ever in my pocket until a K-unit stopped me in the middle of the road, and that’s the truth.”

The day shift manager grows impossibly quiet. You wonder if it was the wrong confession to make.

“How long did they give you?” he asks, lips dangerously close to the apex of your neck and shoulder.

“600 days,” you answer. “By the time I got to Narkina, it was 523.”

“For petty theft?”

“Do you expect anything less from them?” you say, bitter, and he hums. 

“Lot of stories like that come through here.”

“What about yours?”

“My sentence?”

“Yeah,” you breathe to the white wall in front of you. “Did they make it up?”

“No, I earned my sentence.”

“What did you do?”

“Things I would do again,” he answers. “Wouldn't change a damn thing.”

“And how many days do you have left?”

Kino grows quiet, nose accidentally nuzzling your hair.

“Three hundred and forty-five.”

Your eyes round with recognition. “Less than a year.”

Being in the unit without him sounds like a death sentence. Your stomach turns.

“Yeah.” The syllable is barely spoken. “Something like that.”

“Maybe you can wait for me the other two-hundred odd days it takes me to meet you on the other side,” you tease, unwilling and unable to face the reality set ahead.

Kino laughs under his breath and it’s full of warmth. “Yeah? You wanna meet this old man at the platform?”

“Only if you have a bouquet of Queen’s Heart at the ready.”

“Flowers?” he mocks, squeezing you closer to his torso. You bring your lips into your mouth to avoid laughing. “Didn’t take you for a bouquet type.”

“I’m not, but I could try to be.”

He sighs heavily into your neck, allowing his lips to rest there as he speaks. “Tell you what: you go to sleep, we serve our sentences, get the hell out of this shitehole, and I’ll bring you flowers and buy you whatever drink fits your fancy at the nearest cantina. Deal?”

You reach down, squeezing his hand with yours. 

“Only if you have a bouquet of Queen’s Heart at the ready.”

“Flowers?” he mocks, squeezing you closer to his torso. You bring your lips into your mouth to avoid laughing. “Didn’t take you for a bouquet type.”

“I’m not, but I could try to be.”

He sighs heavily into your neck, allowing his lips to rest there as he speaks. “Tell you what: you go to sleep, we serve our sentences, get the hell out of this shitehole, and I’ll bring you flowers and buy you whatever drink fits your fancy at the nearest cantina. Deal?”

You reach down, squeezing his hand with yours. 

“Deal.”

Your hands stay together for the remainder of the night.

Sleep comes to you faster than anticipated. Within minutes, you’re adrift to a state of dreaming of sunrays and sparkling lake water and real, solid food — all while sharing it with a free man, a good man, with Narkina 5 far behind from the both for you.

Admittedly, it may be the best sleep you’ve had in a long, long time.

When you wake, Kino stands at the cell’s edge, waiting to start another day.

[lunapwrites]

for him for fic bingo please!!

So! for him. was written for last year's Remus Lupin Fest, and specifically what happened is that I saw the prompt and went !!!!YES. I had also never written for a fest before that point, so it was me trying to see if I could manage it. The prompt was Harry having a bi crisis and going to Professor Lupin for advice about it, and the two of them have a Bonding Moment. I had several scenes and concepts in mind specifically as I wrote it:

1) The Marauders being brilliant but also idiots. This included scream-singing sea shanties in the Great Hall and Remus getting a noodle stuck up his nose and needing to have it removed (embarrassingly) by Madam Pomfrey. - This is directly inspired by a real friend of mine who had to go to the ER to get a ramen noodle removed from their sinus cavity. Basically, include realistic teenage hijinks.

2) Reject Popular Remus Fanon. He hates chocolate (or at least some chocolate -- basically, just ISN'T a chocoholic.) He's not bookish. He's quietly mean to Snape and doesn't take insults sitting down. He finds ways around Dumbledore's rules to cultivate some sort of relationship with Harry. (Real talk, though, that little chat with Snape was probably one of my favorite interactions between the two of them that I have ever written. Was it necessary for the fic? No. But it was necessary for my soul.)

3) No pre-existing Wolfstar, which was part of the prompt but also a challenge to myself, and I think I pulled the decades-long pining off well lol.

4) Whoever Harry had a crush on couldn't be Cedric, nor could it be Draco. It had to be specifically someone he was already close to in order to maximize the relatable content for Remus. Which was a tough choice because honestly I like him with both of the options I had there lol.

Aaaaaand then I procrastinated until the last week of the fest and wrote about 75% of it in a screaming panic, but it still worked out lmao.

Thanks for the ask!! <3

[ao3feed--symbrock]

by Radioabsurd

"When all four of them had gotten together (finally), it was silently agreed that their relationship was theirs and nobody else's."

     That was before they had their kids, before they found them and took them in.

  They can’t hide their kids and, besides Anne and Dan being in love, besides them getting married, that’s what today is about.

  He leans forward and kisses Anne on the forehead, gives her a smile.

  “You’re going to explode, huh?”

  Anne glares, but her grimace is gone, turning into a smile.

  “I’m not losing $50 to Venom.”

  Venom slithers up his shoulder, poking a mini version of his head out to stretch his mouth into a grotesque smile at Anne."

  or: dan & anne get married, but it's really just about the chaos of being around family + the symbiote kids + venom winning money to get his chocolate.

Words: 2508, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Venom (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M, M/M, Multi

Characters: Eddie Brock, Venom Symbiote (Marvel), Dan Lewis (Venom 2018), Anne Weying, Toxin Symbiote (Marvel), Riot Symbiote (Marvel), Phage Symbiote (Marvel), Lasher Symbiote (Marvel), Mania Symbiote (Marvel), Agony Symbiote (Marvel), Carnage Symbiote (Marvel), Scream Symbiote (Marvel)

Relationships: Eddie Brock & Dan Lewis & Anne Weying & Venom Symbiote, Eddie Brock/Dan Lewis/Venom Symbiote/Anne Weying, Eddie Brock/Venom Symbiote, Dan Lewis/Anne Weying

Additional Tags: Weddings, Rewrite, Dan Lewis is a Nice Thing, Minor Dan Lewis/Anne Weying, Minor Eddie Brock/Venom Symbiote, Black Character(s), carnage is implied to be african american based on their hair, Nonbinary Character, Makeup, sorry i have no clue how to tag this, dan & anne get married and eddie/ven & the symbiote kids are there, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, its a throw-away line for mania, Riot - Freeform, and agony, uhhh but this is a rewrite of a terrible not!fic i wrote a couple years ago, Oh, Polyamory, ALSO WHY ARE THERE NO TAGS FOR DAN LEWIS AND ANNE WEYING WE SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF OURSELVES, Anyways, pls read ty :) smileys., no beta we die like anne's mom if she doesn't stop, talking trash about venom ot4's kids, scream is implied to be african american based on her hair, lasher is implied to be asian american based on facial features, yes most of the symbiote kids are poc sorry not sorry, nice dan lewis is nice, venom is a chocoholic, This Is STUPID, casual mentioks of cannabilism lmaoo, casual mentions of sexual, punishments??, lol eddie remnants on getting spanked for his mouth, as he should, dan lewis is daddy purrrr, anne is mommy as she should be, and eddie is papa thanks, im not taking any questions, kids being kids, im looking at you, Lasher - Freeform, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, boys in makeup we stan, possessive dan lewis is nice and possessive, lowkey background venom im sorry baby :(, tags are incohersnt SCREECHING RN, Crying, characters yeah, but also me, competent anne weying, Tags Contain Spoilers, how three white adults got mostly poc children is beyond me, anywhos, thats on #projection, Polyamorous Character, Minor Injuries, Future Fic

[justfrozenthings]

Chocolate Bunnies

Relationship: Anna/Kristoff

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 605

Notes: I know Easter has already passed, but when I got the idea for this fic in my head I just had to write it.

Summary: Anna loved Easter. The bunnies. Dying and searching for eggs. Taking pictures with the Easter Bunny in the mall with Kristoff, who did not enjoy it but did it because it made her smile. But what Anna loved most of all was the chocolate bunnies.

Anna loved Easter. The bunnies. Dying and searching for eggs. Taking pictures with the Easter Bunny in the mall with Kristoff, who did not enjoy it but did it because it made her smile. But what Anna loved most of all was the chocolate bunnies. Everyone that knows is aware that she is quite the chocoholic and would devour every chocolate item in sight if left unattended at a chocolate store.

However, it wasn't just the fact that it was chocolate that caused her love for the sweet treat, but the meaning they held for Kristoff. Growing up his family could never really afford much, but every Easter his parents made sure that each of their twelve adopted kids had something special in their basket. And that special gift was always a chocolate bunny. Anna’s face glowed with serenity the first time he told her the story back when they were first dating.

Anna loved Kristoff. Fully and devotedly. So having something that she already loved, like chocolate bunnies, and have that love strengthened by someone she cared deeply for...well you could go ahead and call her the luckiest girl in the world.

--- Easter morning Anna awoke to find Kristoff already out of bed. She could smell the delightful aroma of eggs benedict, their annual Easter breakfast, wafting through their oakwood bedroom door.

She got out of bed, tying her hair into a quick messy bun and slipping on her fuzzy bunny slippers, as she made her way into the kitchen. When she saw Kristoff cooking at the stove she wound her arms around his broad waist and planted a kiss at the nape of his neck. “Happy Easter baby,” she sighed happily.

Turning around to fully receive the hug Kristoff kissed the top of her head, relishing in the scent of honeysuckle and jasmine. “Happy Easter feistypants. I have a surprise for you.”

Anna buried her face in his chest and giggled, “Oh you do, do you?”

Kristoff gently took her by the hand and began leading her toward the living room. “Follow me. And close your eyes.”

Anna did as she was told, nervous excitement racking through her bones as she pondered what on earth the surprise could possibly be. Though she had some idea.

When they came to a stop, Kristoff told her to keep her eyes closed. She heard him rustling with, what to her sounded like boxes. A few seconds later she heard his heavy footsteps as he made his way back over to her. He laid a hand upon her shoulder, “Okay. Open them.”

Anna gasped at the sight before her. She thought she must be dreaming because before her very eyes were two baskets filled to the brim with chocolate bunnies of different shapes, sizes, and brands. “Oh Kristoff,” she said, her eyes beginning to well with tears. “Happy Easter Anna,” he said as he pulled her in for another hug.

“You really are the best husband ever. Do you know that?”

He chuckled, “I try my best.” He ever so gently pushed away her ginger bangs from her face and placed a featherlight kiss on her forehead. “Just don’t go eating it all in one night.”

“Why Kristoff!,” she exclaimed dramatically in her best attempt at a fancy accent, looking away and placing the back of her wrist on her forehead. “I can’t believe you would ever accuse me of such a thing Truly I’m shocked.” They both laughed at her silliness. “No, but seriously Kristoff. Thank you.”

“Of course, “ he grinned. “Anything for you.”

Yeah, chocolate bunnies may be sweet, but Kristoff was even sweeter.

Ao3

[fallen-gabrielle]

For the role swap, I came up with a different approach than what we can see in the fandom already. Here Monty is Father and Nigel is the only delightful child (his teammates are his underlines in this version). He’s fighting against Sector Z, that does not change. I made it differently because I think I’m taking someone else’s idea.

My original fic with that concept is Numbuh 1 waking up in his counterpart’s body and realizing how fucked up the world is. First, he discovers his dad is Father (so he’s completely crushed by that reveal), then he’ll try to ask his teammates help and discovers they’re not operatives: Abby is the queen of the weredogs (and secretly dating Nigel); Hoagie is a dirty cop still working for the hall monitor with Joe Balooka (and he’s still a chocoholic); Wally is the leader of the bullies; as for Kuki, the Rainbow Corporation had been shut down by Monty years ago so she never got to become the person she is now. She is basically her caramel curse state. Also, Chad and Cree are his bodyguards. Nigel trying to understand how he got there and what he can do to fix things is the whole plot. 

And the ‘Perfect Son’ (Nigel’s counterpart) is a real little shit: he obviously stole the election to become 4th grade president for exemple. Should I mentione that in this AU (that i call mirror verse) the KND are almost destroyed? Because they are. Also, Monty and Margaret are divorced (for obvious reasons) and she completly lost the shared custody of Nigel. She returned to live in England.