#dying for more tack fics

[cookieclimax]

I just wanted to whine about the lack of fanfictions involving this sweet guy

I've read just about every fanfiction with him that exists, at the time of making this post, up to their latest update. And I beg for more.

If only I was the writing type, cos a lot of the fan art I see is SO worth a fanfiction or 10 to go with them 😭

[cookieclimax]

I wish I was the writing type because this is so fanfiction worthy 😍

The Thief And The Cobbler

(villain.ver) Tack and Res shoes

[miniwheat77]

Silence. (Ghost x Reader.)

!nsfw, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, trauma, panic attacks, blood, death, MDNI!

Short lil ghost fic, hope you enjoy. 💖 (not edited)

If there's anything that's more scary than a warzone.

Anything more terrifying than running through a battlefield, bullets flying past you, explosions around you.

A war is terrifying. But there is one thing even more chilling than that.

Silence.

It's all they hear on your end of the radio. Silence.

Just minutes ago you were responding, you were alive and well and talking to them. Now, nothing. It takes them all off guard. They're worried about you immediately, needing to get to your last coordinates. So they rush there.

They can see your trail. Blood and bodies lay in the wrath that was once you, ambushing and killing to get to the reason behind this mission in the first place. One that they hadn't clued you in on in the first place. Now, as they approach you, they realize they should've. They should’ve asked more questions because it might’ve saved you from what’s to come. You've stumbled upon a lab, standing where you are. You're grief stricken and there's nothing anyone can do to stop it now. Thousands of photos line the walls. Test subjects, something that you had once been involved in. You're sick the moment you see it. The photos, the blood. The wounds and the innocent people dying when there's nothing you could do.

"What the fuck is this?" The venom is clear in your tone as you spin to look at your Captain, who had failed to tell you what this mission was in the first place.

You turn back toward it. "I'm sorry Y/N. I had no idea. It was Laswell who set it up." He stresses at the way you look at the photos on the wall. You seethe, staying quiet. Turning back and making your way to the wall. You tug a photo off, tack falling to the ground. You see the innocent girl inside the photo and you recognize who she is. Having seen her killed the same day you had escaped, your empty promises to her. How you'd get her out and she'd get to see her family again and how you watched a bullet pierce through her skull. Her lifeless body falling, blood spattering onto you. It was then when Captain Price had arrived to help you.

It's what made you decide to join the task force after everything. After being kidnapped and tortured by a foreign enemy. How nobody seen or heard from you for months, how they knew not to send you on anymore missions involving this operation knowing that you were one of few surviving members. It would set you off and that's why you stayed away from it. John was going to let Laswell have it when he got you back to base.

It takes little to nothing to send you into a fit of rage. You start ripping everything off of the walls, throwing equipment, kicking, and destroying everything physically around you. You needed to.

They let you until you're hyperventilating.

It takes Ghost to pull you back, nobody else was brave enough to intervene and he holds you to his chest as you flail and pant, blinded by the memories of being held captive and being tortured. Watching all of those innocent people die around you, some of which were your own. You didn't take enough time to heal and that was apparent to Captain Price as he watches you freak out, having bottled everything up. Watching it explode as you fell into a full blown panic attack. He shakes his head, seething as he exits the building. Phoning Laswell the moment he could no longer hear your cries.

"John."

"So help me god Laswell. If you knew what this was and you let me bring her in here.." He hesitates.

"What do you mean?"

"This is a direct connection to the operation Y/N was in before this task force, Laswell. She's hysterical." He hisses. Laswell can tell through the phone that he's beyond pissed.

"I didn't John, I had intel from some other sources. I didn't know." She hesitates. "Well. Double check next time." He stops responding after that.

When John returns, Simon is still holding you, but he's turned you away from everything that you had just destroyed. Your eyes are bloodshot and you have tear stains on your cheeks. You stare ahead like there's nothing going on behind your eyes and it's unnerving.

Silence.

Nothing but silence and they hate silence. Ghost holds you tight. Like if he lets go you'll disappear into thin air and John silently thanks him for it. Ghost of all should know how you feel right now. Having lost everything himself. When he feels you're ready, he moves you from the room. Helping you up but keeping your head turned away from everything. You didn't need to see this anymore.

When you arrive back on base, you’re silent. Making a b-line right for your room and they don’t see you for the rest of the night. You sit in there for the most part. Your reaction today probably scared everyone and you wish you hadn’t reacted the way you did. But you couldn’t control yourself.

Something shocked you today.

Ghost. The way he held you. You knew he was one who was never into physical touch or affection but that’s all he’d done. He held you to his chest, whispering nothing but soothing things into your ear to calm you. And the fucked up part about it was how well it had worked.

For the next couple of weeks, the aura around Ghost is different. Your eye contact is prolonged in passing, and whatever you feel. You know that he can feel it too. When you pass by him, it’s like everything moves in slow motion and he holds your eye contact until the last possible second. His gaze is chilling.

It’s you who seeks him out first. Late at night, you come knocking and you don’t know why. You don’t remember your feet carrying you to his door this late at night but it’s almost like he’s waiting for you. Still fully dressed despite the hour. You raise your hand and hesitate before you knock very quietly. He says nothing as he opens it up and sees you. Eyes just piercing yours. He steps to the side, allowing you in. Not a word spoken between the both of you. You stand in the middle of his room, turned toward him as he closes the door. You can see his gloved fingertips twist the lock. Swallowing hard, your eyes trail back up to his eyes.

You’re the first one to break the silence.

“You feel it too… don’t you?” You’re already breathless and it comes out more pathetic than you think it does.

He says nothing. Which is the answer you think you want. Ghost is guarded, of course he wouldn’t admit to it. But he’d also deny you if it weren’t true.

He’s on you before you even have time to react. His mask is pulled off and his lips are on yours, pure Ghost. Nothing but a killing machine who you’d hardly talked to before all of this. He’s got you pressed against the wall. He helps you remove your sweatpants, tugging them down your legs.

A hiss leaves your lips as he raises you up. He holds you against the wall, pressing his knee up against it to reach for his belt and zipper. Tugging his jeans just past his cock to free it. You can feel his bare skin brush against yours. Not a single fabric blocking him from you now.

His shaft presses against your entrance and he has time to think about if he should do this or not.

He stares you in the eyes, they’re watery and puffy. Your lips are blushing and plump from kissing him.

“Please-“ you mewl. “Y/N.” He warns. Finally coming to, enough to realize what he’s doing. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to take advantage of you.” He hisses.

“Simon.” Your voice is low.

“Fuck me until it hurts-“ you hiccup. Looking up at him.

His breath hitches in his throat. He rests his cock right up against your entrance and watches your face for any discomfort for at least a minute.

When he sees nothing but pure lust in your gaze, he thrusts up into you. Penetrating you. He cuts your cry off with his hand but hears just a second of it. It rattles him to his core, the way you sound. Ghost doesn’t know what this is, what his sudden feelings for you are. And it’s so weird that you felt everything too. Something has changed, drastically. He holds your hips tight to the wall as he hammers his hips into yours, your own hands clamp over your mouth. He’s rough, but in the most pleasurable way. Even with his tight grip on your hips, fingertips sure to leave bruises. You still don’t hurt.

You move your hands from your mouth, biting your lip to silence yourself as you wrap your arms around his neck to kiss him again. It’s sloppy and messy, just like the sex you’re having but you couldn’t care less.

He moves you to his bed. It creaks a little bit but Ghost can’t find it in himself to care at this moment in time. Your thighs shake as he ravages you. He keeps a bruising pace, not letting up or relenting in any way. He needs you to feel every part of him. He needs to be overbearing, almost to the brink of too much but not crossing it.

You clutch the sheets hard, he tugs his shirt off finally. Taking a deep breath. His hair is damp from sweat, beads of it settle on his face. Drips slide down the strands of his hair. Falling to land on your chest, his hair was a little overgrown for his liking but he hadn’t gotten the chance to cut it just yet. The wetness is what brings you down to earth to raise his chin, making him look you in the eyes. That pressure is building and there’s no going back now. You hold his eye contact, hearing his breathing start to get more jagged and out of control. He was right there, and so were you.

You cum first, eyes screwing shut and he clamps a hand over your mouth, hips still moving into yours as he chases after his own high. When he cums, he can’t hold back the groan. Eyes rolling back as he fills you. Shaking as he experiences the most intense orgasm he’s ever had by far, barely being able to ride it out from being so sensitive. He flinches as you throb around him, it’s almost too much. “F-fuck” he hisses, collapsing on top of you. Resting his head on your chest. “Shit..” he mumbles.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes. His hair is wet and it’s cold all of a sudden.

“For what?” He raises his head to look at you. “I.. I shouldn’t have pushed you like this. And I shouldn’t have..” he hesitates. “I should’ve pulled out.”

“It’s okay. I’ll take care of it, don’t worry about it.” You take in a deep breath. “You didn’t push me. I came to you.” You breathe. “I’m glad you did. Stay.” He mumbles. Seeing the edge of your lips turn up in a smile. “Okay.”

You end up staying there until morning when you sneak off to your own room. Nobody knows what happened, and you want it to stay that way for now.

You’re not sure what this is. What these new feelings for him are. Of course they’re intimidating. But you don’t let them scare you. It’s the start of something new, and bonding with someone who understands your trauma and knows how to help you.

You can help each other.

[catfern]

cowboy!ellie headcanons

pairing: ellie williams x afab!reader

music: roses are falling - orville peck

word count: 1.2k

warnings: fingering (briefly), drunk sex-ish, guns??, yearning and just sappy shit mainly im in a vulnerable state

an: this is shit brainrot bc i've played too much rdr2 and i want ellie to let me ride her cowgirl style. this took me for-fucking-ever because i got acrylics and dropped my wpm from 108 to 67. also if i put out a poll asking what fic to post next would people vote

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

✷ cowboy!ellie having the most pornographic, velvet-laced southern accent known to man. drawling out words in a whisper, that reassured wit sitting in her throat with a lopsided smirk. she’s such a tease, knowing how it gets to you, that ‘c’mon, sweetheart, you gonna make me wait f’you?’ after she trots ahead, glancing back at you under the wide brim of her hat. please, trying to make eye contact with ellie after a long day of riding (ifykyk), seeing just a glance of the veins in her neck, beads of sweat sitting in the little crevices as she leans down to her saddle bag. god, her hands!! and she looks at you, that knowing impatience and ‘okay there, darlin’?, and you can’t look at her, your head swimming and drowning in the molasses of her voice and too focused on the up, down, up, down, up trot of your horse.

✷ setting up camp for the night, bed mats a good distance away from each other, and you wake up, fire dying, moon high, and ellie is still awake, hands covered in dirt and ash and rust from her old revolver that she cleans too occasionally. the gentle scratch of charcoal on parchment, her body hunched over, protective like a creature, and when you call out to her, she TOSSES her journal into the dirt like it burned to touch. if the moon wasn’t so faint, you’d see the uncharacteristic blush fleeting across her cheeks, but too quickly, she tells you to go back to sleep, she’s just staying up to take care of the fire. you listen in a haze, and ellie tears out the five, maybe 6 pages?? of rough sketches, harsh lines etching out your body, your smile, your eyes, and stamps them into the cooling embers of the campfire.

✷ if we’re talking historically accurate cowboys, ellie is definitely the type to believe in dinosaurs!! it’s this new, fresh, science fad and everybody laughs at her for it, cause omg?? giant lizards?? nah!! but ellie is so adamant, reading every paper and pamphlet on the subject that she can get her hands on (assuming she can even read lets be so real), and she’ll tell you about it! small, reluctant meanders from more important topics, at first, but you’re kind and you listen to words either of you barely understand, and sure it’s a little bit boring, but she’s happy, and for some reason she makes it incredibly dynamic, crash coursing you on lizards that evolved (a buzz word in all her pamphlets) into BIGGER lizards.

✷ cowboy!ellie, the horse whisperer. she doesn’t teach you to ride, but you’ve never had a way with horses, cantankerous and rough, so you need a lil bit of assistance. ellie will take the lead, letting you rock behind her on your horse, your arms draped around her like common occurrence, and she’ll turn, ‘see? be gentle, she’ll listen. you’re a team, y’know?’

✷ ‘she just likes you more than me.’

✷ her laugh is boisterous, loud, it sounds like it belongs amongst the hills and caverns, like wind against rocks, ‘no one likes me more than you, flower.’

✷ one day, you’re just passing through a small town, nothing more than a few shops and scattered farm houses, and ellie spies an outlaw poster, poorly tacked to the community bulletin board. it’s her, badly sketched, sure. her chin is way too big, nose a bit askew, but it’s definitely her. and you laugh as she presses you frantically, ‘i don’t really look like this? do i?’ and it’s got some ridiculous nickname that definitely over-inflates her ego, ‘ellie 'longshot’ williams (no one has called her that ever) that she’ll parade it around like a medal

✷ ‘aw, love, do you need some help shootin’? don’t call me long shot for nothin’.’

✷ you’d get a bit vulgar, a bit defensive because, yeah, maybe ellie is actually good at shooting, and you could benefit from her teaching. but that fucking nickname, lording over your head with that lilt in her voice, and the childish, goading smile, you’d tell her to shove it somewhere the sun don’t shine and just pray luck guides your bullet.

✷ your now-so-serious scowl eats at her, so ellie has to swallow her boyish pride and shut up, simply falling behind you. gently tapping your shin with her boot to get you to adjust your stance, her hands stretching out over yours to feel out the barrel of the foreign pistol. they’re rough, calloused, unmade for this sort of gentle gesture, but you welcome the heat that they give. with a soft push and pull, like a tide she moves your fingers, your hands, to hold the gun well. her voice is a whisper as she instructs, ‘don’t hold it so loosely. stronger grip helps aim.’ 

✷ she’s shaking in her boots. a moment like this, tender, with you is scarcely shared. the closeness burns her chest as she feels you breathe against her, skittish but assured, ellie’s finger snaking around yours to settle on the trigger. you go to fire, and the recoil sends you backwards in a shock, ellie having to move her hands from the gun to your waist to keep you steady. you laugh something coarse, leaning back into her without a thought. adrenaline intimacy.

✷ ‘okay, maybe y’need a few more lessons before you get it right.’ it’s a selfish thought, but it cements ellie in that moment, with you just in her reach, and her revolver. she’d clean it for you.

✷ cowboy!ellie doing stupid shit, like taking longer detours to show you the scenery, the stretching fields and great mountain waterfalls, stopping to pick wildflowers (she’s a sap), or taking the extra care to saddle up your horse for you, securing the girth and not letting you touch it because ‘i don’t need you slippin’ on me.’ she takes care of you, out on the road, it’s not an official thing, but you’re off limits.

✷ ellie is kind, but sex with her isn’t. the first time, she’s terribly drunk, playing away her night in a saloon, at a poker table (she’s losing), and you’re sat at the bar, wearing that, and it’s violently throwing her off her game, so she decides to make it known that your presence is an interruption. dragging you upstairs, she’s unkind. ‘you’re not helping my luck, looking like that.’

✷ ‘how do you need me, then?’

✷ she tastes like cigarette smoke, and bourbon, and she smells like the sleek of rain on dry dirt, and feeling her all over you is intoxicating, rough. she’s quick, her lips aren’t soft but rather, a grating possession on your skin, a feeling that swallows you, melts you down in the heat of her hands. she swears, a lot, it sounds like disbelief but really, it’s a bribe. a prayer. ‘dear god, give me this, let me have this, and i will be devout.’ it’s primal, something uncontrollable. drunk, it’s worse. she loses herself in the haze, becomes complete disregard, her fingers inside you without hearing you, just feeling you. lost in you and she keeps pounding into you simply because she’s enraptured by the feeling of you clenching around her.

[lillyspeakz]

just hear me out (let me in)

a/n : bts fic! Have fun! The ending is rushed I apologize!! I have two other fics like this in the works so be patient my loves :)

warnings : making out, a lot of fluff, sexual innuendo(s), pet names, crack basically-

edited: HA! Nope.

wc: 5.6 k

-

You decided to join the boys on their adventure as they filmed a new music video for their new single, in a Russian submarine.

Wilbur had been sat next to you as you leaned against him, falling asleep on his shoulder as his arm wrapped around your shoulders, being too early in the morning for a human to be up. Wilbur had told you countless of times that you didn’t need to come, how you’d have much more fun staying home then being out with the boys, which you called bullshit on him. You wanted to go. You wanted to support the boys and to support Wil, to be there with him and have fun.

Wilbur had finally given in and let you come with, dealing with your whines of how it’s too early and how you hated whoever made the reservation so early. Wilbur laughed at your complaints, knowing they didn’t mean anything, helping you get changed into a comfortable outfit for the day.

You let out a small yawn as you snuggled into the man’s jacket even further, the soft material lulling you further and further into a dream like state. Wilbur had brought his hand to your hair, rubbing your head as he softly hummed in your ear.

As the car came to a stop, Wilbur had tapped your head gently, alerting you that you made it to the final destination, needing to get out.

“5 more minutes…” you whispered out to him as you wrapped around him once more.

Wilbur cooed at you as he held you. “Later darling, promise. But for now we have to get this started if we want to be done at a reasonable time yeah?” Wilbur said as you nodded and begrudgingly got up, Wilbur laughing at your hair as it stood up in some places. “Come here..”

Wilbur ran his hands through your hair, fixing the strands as he did, cupping your tired face as he pecked your soft lips. A smile grew on your face as he giggled at you, caressing your cheekbone as David poked his head into the van and groaned.

“Stop being in love for 5 seconds and let’s get going, you’ll have all day to be close.” David sighed as he left the two of you alone, Wilbur chuckling at his attitude as you sighed.

“I’m going-“

“5 more minutes.” Wilbur mumbled as he brought you back in, kissing you once more, smiles growing on both of your faces as you leaned in further.

-

You eventually got out of the car, Wilbur trailing behind you as you entered the dressing room, the warmth fogging up his glasses making you laugh as he held onto you.

Mark was already getting his makeup done as Joe and Ash got ready. You and Wil both found an empty table to set your things at, Wilbur leaving momentarily to grab his outfit that he had to change into.

As the boys all got dressed and got make up done, Wilbur finally came back, blue button up shirt and corduroy pants in tacked. To say he looked good was an understatement as you checked him out for longer than you should have.

“Like what you see?” The man teased as he smirked down at you, grabbing the belt that was on the table. You scoffed as watched him loop the belt around his waist, laughing at Mark when he tried to convince the group of his cooking skills.

“Who wouldn’t.” You murmured as you looked back down at your phone, playing the game you were previously playing before getting- distracted.

“What was that love?” Wilbur crouched down to be eye level with you, smirk back on his face as he saw your face turn red, laughing as you hid your face in your hands. “Don’t hide now darling, repeat what you said, I’m dying to know.”

“You heard me loud and clear…” you pecked his lips once more, leaning back in your chair as he smiled up at you. He leaned back in, placing one last peck on your cheek as he walked over to get his make up done, red beanie in hand that he was borrowing (stealing) from you.

Eventually all the boys were done, and all you were waiting for was the go ahead to make your way to the submarine. Wilbur had made it his mission to have plenty of meaningless conversations filled with random sounds, while Joe and the rest of the guys made fun the clothes they had on.

Eventually you found yourself by the glass window looking out on the body of water just outside the building, watching the swans and different birds silently.

“Swan.” Looking over you saw Wilbur standing next to you, Elodie quickly coming over. He looked down at you as you laughed in confusion.

“What?!”

“Swan.” You let out a laugh as he repeated the word, Elodie getting up close to his face as he cracked a bit.

“You are something else.” You told the man as Elodie filmed the birds outside as Wilbur looked at you with a smile, wrapping his arms around you as he did.

“You love me for it.” Wilbur admitted for you as you shook your head at him, resting it on his chest.

“Damn right I do.”

-

As you all got confirmation to go out to the dock, Wilbur had put on his rather unique coat, leaving you with his old winter coat that fit like a dress almost. You loved it, it still smelt like him and it felt like a big hug from the man, even if he was currently on top of you at every waking step.

As you all stood waiting for the boat to come pick you up, Joe had brought the mannequin arm out, trying to tease the swan closest to him. It ultimately failed as it ended up hissing at the fake hand, avoiding it at all cost.

“Let me try…”

“Wil that’s a terrible idea!” You denied his wished immediately, not wanting to see this bird angry.

“It’s ok, I’m not gonna hurt it!” He exclaimed to you as you scoffed at him and watched the man kneel on the ground, reaching the arm out to the bird once more. “Beautiful creatures- Ok-“ Wil hurriedly got up, panic lacing his tone as the swan flapped its wings at him. He looked at you with a small grin, biting his lip as you looked at him with raised eyebrows. “You were right-“

“As I should be.” You nodded as you wrapped your arms around his middle section, finally seeing the boat approaching the dock.

-

The boat ride was short as you all made your way on top of the submarine. Looking around, you heard Wilbur stomp on the metal, turning around to see him talking to the camera.

“This stuff- galvanized fiberglass. Don’t include that , it’s probably not.” You all burst into laughter after the quick change in the man, believing him for a second, as Mark complained about the smell.

Finally being allowed in, you all helped get materials down in the submarine, making trips from one end to the other.

You huddled next to Wil, his body being a walking heater as Elodie came up behind you too, camera in hand as you waved at the lense. Wilbur quickly turned to look at the camera, seeing you wave at someone- “what?”

“Be nice!” You lightly slap the man with the baggy coat arm, as he smiled down at you. Wilbur looked up to see Joe sitting in a little area above their heads, walking up to join him, saying ‘hello’ in a funny voice.

You laughed a him as he was bent in half, body not being able to fully fit up there with his height, waving up at him as he waved down at you and Elodie.

Sometime soon, you all moved into a different room, ready to begin filming the music video, Wil somehow finding a way deeper into the boat than needed.

“Woah! It’s all cabins and dormitories.” He said in amusement, as he motioned for you and Elodie to come up with him. It was fairly easy, your height being perfect for the small entrance as Wilbur held his hand out for you to take, lifting you up into him as he bowed. “My pretty partner.”

“Why thank you, my prettier boyfriend.”

“What did I say about that-“

“Can I get some help please?” Elodie asked as you quickly took the camera from her hands, helping her up with your free hand as she graciously thanked you. “Now you guys can go back to being disgustingly cute.”

Wil made his way back to the entrance, pointing out some diagrams he thought to be morse code, not being entirely sure in the moment.

“You’re supposed to be the smart one in the relationship Wilbur…” you joked as he laughed at you, shaking his head as he walked past you and down the hall.

“They used to smoke in this! That’s crazy.” Wilbur exclaimed as he lifted up a pipe, looking back at you as he placed it back in his rightful place.

You followed Wil further into the boat, as he somehow managed to find the main room where all the buttons and systems were to work the submarine.

As you looked at all the buttons and switches that were present in the room, Wilbur gripped the wheel placed in the middle of the wall and steered it, looking at Elodie with a scared look.

“I’m dwiving.” You rolled your eyes at the baby voice, patting the man on the back as you passed him.

“If you can drive a plane, you can drive a boat.” You told the man as he looked at you with an amused smile.

“You do know those are two different things correct?” You heard Elodie laugh behind the camera as she continued filming, loving the dynamic you two brought.

“No shit Sherlock! But they can’t be that different, right?” You looked at Elodie as she shrugged at you, not really knowing herself. “I don’t think they’re that different.”

“You try driving them.” Wilbur challenged as you quickly side eyed him and looked at him like he was insane.

“The fact you trust me that much is actually crazy. We would be dead in the next 2 minutes-“ Elodie and Wilbur both bursted out in laughter, your honest answer catching them off guard.

As you made your way further into the boat, finding more random equipment and rooms, Wilbur’s excitement brought a smile to your face, haven’t have seen him like this in a good minute. It was nice, to see him geek out and smile over these things again, finding solace now. You let him talk, both you and Elodie agreeing it was nice to hear him go on and on about random equipment and how it was used and blah blah blah.

“I think I just really love, cold, utilitarian design. It’s like, so sick to me.” Wilbur confessed as he snuck into a small room with a telephone and random machines connected to it. “Old map.”

“You nerd.” You mumbled as he shook his head at you, knowing you meant it in a loving way, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

Wilbur shifted a dial once more, the machine clicking as he did. “That one’s fun.” Wilbur chuckled as he sat back in the seat and looked at everything once more, looking back at the camera with a big. “Teehee.”

“Aww baby.” You cooed at the man as you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him close to you, kissing his head as you did.

“I am baby.” Wilbur stated as Elodie set the camera down and laughed at the scene in front of her. Wilbur’s head being suffocated by your arms as random kisses are being scattered all around his skin. The man was beaming with joy as this all unfolded, wanting this to never stop.

You stopped eventually earning a groan from the man as he got up, you leading the two back further down as you came into a larger room filled with engines and more steering wheels.

Wilbur’s gasps filled the room as he looked around in wonder. “Look at this shit! Look at the engines!”

Wilbur found another steering wheel, trying to move it round yet finding it had been glued shut, disappointment lacing his words.

Rounding the corner, he found you walking down further into the room, looking back at him with a smile as you pointed down the hall. “There’s more? It keeps going?!”

“Yeah! It’s like, huge in here!” Your voice echoed as Wilbur came up behind you, looking at all the systems once again, not noticing you glancing up at his smiling face.

Gripping his chin in between your fingers, you gently pulled him down to meet your lips in a slow kiss, not being able to control yourself when he got into moods like these. Where he’d just ramble about everything and anything while wearing a smile and being happy. You loved how it looked on him.

-

As all the boys collected into one area, filming in the same spot for as long as needed, wanting to get these shots right and make the music video look good. The lights changing to red when needed, grabbing waters for the band if wanted, etc. you often made comments at the camera while Elodie filmed, making the girl laugh as she filmed the action.

As the boys got an opportunity for a break, wilbur watching some of the footage so far as Ash played with the mannequins that were thrown around the room, messing its wigs up as he did. You came back into the room with a couple snacks you and stored in your backpack, realizing over the year how hungry these boys got.

You threw Ash one of the snacks, as he was the one who mentioned he was hungry. You stood next to Joe as he looked through the snack options you had brought with, thanking you as he took out another protein bar. You silently watched Wilbur take small bites off of Ash’s bar, laughing quietly as you broke your own in half and went up to the man.

“Here.” You held up the second half, biting into your own half. Wilbur’s eyes softened as he shook his head at you, going to decline your offer, yet the look you gave him told him there was no getting out of having that half.

“Thank you darling, I appreciate it.” Wilbur placed a kiss on your forehead as he started to eat his half, the thing gone in two bites.

“I have more-“

“Please.”

“And you call me crazy!”

-

“Marco!” Elodie said as she pointed the camera up at Wilbur, the audio catching your small whispers of ‘polo’ as Joe’s finger came up and poked through Wilbur’s nostril. The man bursted out laughing as he rubbed his noise, the random intrusion being unexpected as you all laughed along.

“I’m never doing that again!” Joe expressed in disgust as Wilbur nodded along with him.

“Please!” Wilbur practically begged as you grabbed mints from your bag, popping one in your mouth. As Wilbur stood looking at the camera once again, you placed a piece of mint in between his lips, Wilbur’s eyes twitching as he tried not to break. His deadpanned face close to the camera as he spit the mint towards the camera, accidentally hitting you in the process.

“Wil! That was for you!” You catch the hard candy before it falls on the floor, holding it up to the man once more as you opens his mouth. Placing it on his tongue, Wilbur gently but your finger as it was trapped inside his mouth. “Ahh! Wil-“ you giggled as he let go of your digit and smiled at you, bringing you into his chest. He pulled you guys over to a wall, sliding down as he placed you in between his legs, rubbing your arms to create some warmth.

“Thank you for coming.” Wil whispered to you as you watched Marks hair sprawl everywhere, the beanie not helping at all.

Looking up at the man, you smiled at him as you pecked his jaw and huddled closer to him. “Thank you for letting me come.” You retorted back as Wilbur chuckled, silently cursing himself for telling you not to come earlier that day.

-

You all made it into a smaller room, the lights dim as the crew set up. The cold weather had been taking a toll on all of you, sniffing throughout the whole process.

You rubbed your nose a bit, trying to warm up the numb skin, sniffing deeply to get air through your lungs. Wilbur sniffed shortly after, rather hard as he lifted his shoulders up, almost mocking you.

“Me when I-“ sniffing again, Joe laughed at his antiques as you frowned up at him, continuously rubbing your nose, glaring at him.

“You’re mean.” You mumbled as Wil cooed down at you, wrapping your body up in his, gently taking your hand off your nose and kissing it. Somehow it helped, you didn’t want to know whether it was because it was magic or your face was red, but it helped.

Hiding your face in his chest once more, he giggled at you, running his hands through your hair as he looked down at you. “Better?”

You nodded your head into his chest as he whispered a little ‘good.’

Joe was currently planning on using the pipe to smoke in one of the scenes, trying desperately to get permission from the owners.

“You should go into a coughing fit after, pipes are nasty.” You groaned as the thought of smoking through that thing made you shrink against the tall man.

“Yeah- C’mon give us your toddler cough..” Wilbur said as Joe let out a choked cough, his breath being seen in the cold boxed room as you laughed at the surprisingly accurate cough.

“Damn, Joe are you still a child? That was surprising close-“ you teased as everyone laugh, Joe flipping you off as you did.

The boys were then ready to do a long shot scene, where Wil would be tripping over various feet and legs, trying to reach the end without dying. The alarm goin off leaving a ringing in your ear as you watched the boys act for the camera. They all somehow had two things in common- love for music and a thing for theatrics.

“Did you see that top tier performance?” Joe asked towards the camera as you laughed at the man.

“Yeah, I also saw you trip like twice-“

“That was on purpose…” Joe sounded like he was trying to convince himself off that statement.

“Sure bud-“ you were cut off as Wilbur wrapped his arms around your waist, hands finding their way into your coat pockets, face hidden in your hair as he did. “Why hello..”

A small hum was heard from him as he gradually found warmth next to you, Joe leaving to film a small section for himself, leaving you and Wilbur having to move. You stood in between his legs as you all watched the small camera screen in delight while Joe had a small temper tantrum.

“He just confirmed he is in fact, still a toddler.” You giggled to the camera as Elodie panned to Ash as he nodded in agreement.

-

“I’ve got a hot water bottle!” Marks voice rang through the small space as Wilbur turned around to look at the man, finding him with a bulky object in hand.

“Let me feel-“ Wilbur said as Mark handed over the warmth he had once received, pouting at the camera, as Wil sighed out.

“Wil, give mark his water bottle back! I can warm your hands up..” you scolded the man as he joked about how all he needed was one more and he was good to go, the small pouch barely fitting his hand.

“But it’s not the same.” Wilbur whined out as you gapped at him, surprised he denied any physical contact with you in the moment.

“You can warm my hands up!” Mark exclaimed as you smiled at him, taking his hands in yours and gently rubbing the skin, hoping to transfer some of your heat.

Wilbur soon caught the two of you, suddenly missing the feeling of your hands on his as you rubbed at Mark’s rough hands. He knew you and mark were close, always having a bond that was rather unbreakable, but he wanted your hands on his. No he needed.

“On second thought, Mark take your water bottle back and give me my partner please?” Wilbur held out the pouch as the blonde graciously took it and placed his hands on the object immediately. Placing his hands in front of you, you shook your head with a laugh, taking his hands in yours. You pressed small kisses on his knuckles, your lips becoming cold from the sudden temperature change.

“Wil, you need gloves hun-“

“No, I have you. Can I?” Wilbur asked after his denial, placing his hands back into your pockets as you nodded up at him. “Why did we agree to do this on the coldest day?”

“Well, you didn’t think it’d be this cold out. And two, this was your idea, no one else’s.” You retorted back as he glared at you, shaking his head as he dropped his head against your shoulder.

“Don’t bring up my mistakes…” Wilbur whispered as you rubbed his arms, and sighed out a sad smile.

“You learn from them Wilbur, and I’m proud of you.”

As Wilbur was continuing to get warm, it was now Marks turn to have a little tantrum, everyone crowding around to watch the scene unfold.

“What do you think he’ll do?” You asked the group quietly as they all silently questioned themselves. “I say he just fucks with his beanie since he’s been complaining all day.”

“He’s gonna cry-“ Joe commented as Ash simply shrugged his shoulders. Looking over at Wilbur, you saw him already looking, smiling down at you with the biggest smile known to man.

“What?” You questioned, a confused smile on your face as you started rubbing all over. “I have something somewhere, don’t I?”

“No love, you’re just so perfect-“

“Either go somewhere else or be quiet because they’re about to start filming.” David informed the two of you as you rolled your eyes at his tone, looking back at Wil, kissing his cheek.

“And so are you.” You whispered gently back to the man as Marks face appeared up at the screen, the directors counting down as Mark ran his hands all over his head and face.

“Fucking- why won’t I fucking wake up!” The muffled words coming through the small space making everyone light up with laughter.

Wil hid his face in your back as his laugh rang through the space, holding into you tighter than before. You laughed with him, smiling fondly at the man behind you as he looked over at the rest of the group, repeating Mark’s words, tears rolling down his face as he came down from that high.

As Mark came back to join the group, we all cheered and praised him for his performance as he placed the beanie back on his head.

“I’ve been stretching my skin, boys. It fucks.”

“What?!” You and Elodie both questioned the man’s words, laughing at each other as Wil told us not to worry about it and that he’s been stretching his skin, and that’s all we needed to know.

You never understood fully understood the boys relationships with each other, just knowing that they’re all close and have a bond no one could possibly break. Having spent hours upon hours living with each other and interacting, it makes sense for them to fall into an easy rhythm. And you loved to see it.

-

“So, how’s he been?” David asked you as you both stood on the side, watching the boys act in the moment, smiling as Mark and Wil went along with the bit.

Looking over at the man, you nodded at him with a smile. “He’s been good. Some days are harder than other but still good.” You smiled at Wilbur as he stuck his tongue out at you, the camera resetting for another shot. David nodded at your words, thankful that Wilbur had you there for him, especially since everything hasn’t really been in his favor as of late.

As you both made eye contact with each other, you both understood what the other was trying to say, a silent conversation between expressions.

‘Thank you for not giving up on him.’

‘I love him too much to even think about giving up.’

Nudging his arm with yours, you both let out a silent laugh as the director yelled cut, done with that clip for now as all the boys dispersed back out, Wilbur coming up to you as you gave him a high five.

“See you haven’t lost your sense of theater.” You teased as Wilbur scoffed, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together.

“I would like to say that my acting is great and I think I should star in a movie-“

“Don’t flatter yourself too much.” You joked as you smiled back up at him, his smile shining through as well as he looked up at David.

“What were you guys talking about?” Wilbur asked as you looked up at David, seeing him stutter as well.

“We were just talking about the tour later this year! Excited for you guys to perform again.” You covered as David nodded along, humming in agreement.

“Ok… well if you don’t mind, I’m going to steal my partner once more since they decided they wanted to come.”

“Oh gods, please help me!” You joked as you extended a hand out to David, him laughing at you as Wilbur wrapped his arms around your waist and carried you to an empty space.

“Here we go, nice and hidden.” Wilbur set you down and he grabbed your hand once more, dragging you a little more ways down before finding a room.

“Wilbur why are we-“ you were cut off by lips meeting yours, hands gripping your waist as your back met the wall behind you. Your hands trailed up and cupped the man’s face, pulling him closer to you as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

The kiss was slow, no rush behind the connecting lips, all tension flowing away, if there was any. Hands moving on their own, gripping your waist and hips, desperate to get closer to you as your own ran through his curls, little sighs escaping the man as your nails ran over those good spots.

As Wilbur slotted his body in between yours, both of you forgetting where you were and who you were with, a muffled yell of yours and Wilbur’s name echoed through the hallway, causing you both to hesitantly pull away from the other. Groans fell from the man’s mouth as he rested his forehead on yours.

“Fucking hell, I forgot how little time I have with this job.” The man sighed as you kissed him once more, love and patience lacing every second.

Pulling away, Wilbur chased your lips with a whine, a fond smile taking over your features as you rubbed your thumb over his now swollen lip. “You love it though. And I’m patient, so…”

“Tonight?”

“Sounds good to me-“ you leaned in once more, being cut off by a closer yell of your names once more, laughing as you patted Wilbur’s chest. “We should probably go before they find us like this, yeah?” Wilbur nodded at your insight, knowing you two wouldn’t hear the end of it if you didn’t.

Stepping out of the room, you both saw the rest of the band and Elodie at the end of the hall, smirking at you two.

“Now what was happening in there!” Mark teased as Wilbur grabbed your hand in his and pulled you out of the crowd that formed. “Aww c’mon we won’t tell!”

“If you guys were getting freaky in there you could’ve told us to fuck off-“ Ash mumbles out as the group followed the couple in front of them, teasing and poking fun at them as you laughed at Wilbur’s groans.

-

As the boys all sat in the little cabin, photos being taken and jokes being played. A producer brought out a big chocolate cake that made your eyes go wide at the delicious food.

“Who’s that for?” You asked through the window, practically drooling at the look of the chocolate.

“Not you, that’s for sure. Unless you want to lick it off Wilbur’s ha-“

“Ok! That can stop now. It’s about to be destroyed, love. Food fight style.” Wilbur looked at you as you nodded at the boys, retreating back into the space with Elodie as Wil scolded Mark for his crude words.

Marks laughter rang through the small space as the camera crew got prepared, telling the boys what would happen and how it would all happen.

The scene in front of you felt like a fever dream. From the boys singing happy birthday to Mark, to fake being thrown everywhere and the boys creating a mess that anyone would dread.

“Holy shit-“ you gapped at the scene in front of you, the cake everywhere as the boys left the area in a rush to get away from their mess .

“It’s slippery!” Wilbur exclaimed as you met him outside the door, his hands sprawled out in front of you.

Bring one of his hands up to your nose, he wiped some frosting on the tip as he laughed at you, your eyes crossing to try and look at the sugary substance. Wiping as much as you could off, you licked the little bit off your finger, humming in delight and looking up at Wilbur as you did.

A laugh left your throat as he pursed his lips and shook his head at you, disappointed yet finding that oddly attractive.

As all of you walked back to the front, the boys washing themselves of all the icing and taking off the cake battered clothes, Elodie had began recording once more, asking how they all felt about the production. The answers were short and sweet, full of tired voices and sleepy eyes.

“How did it feel doing the slap?” Elodie asked Wilbur as he looked at the camera and spoke complete gibberish.

“I’m not playing your games. I know what you’re doing.” Wilbur got close to the camera, looking at Elodie over the technical device. The women laughed as you shook your head at the man, a smile finding its way on your face.

Seeing the camera turn to you, you looked at Elodie with a smile and waved to the camera. “Now! Partner of William Gold, how was it watching your boyfriend demolish a cake like that? And how was it hanging out with him in a submarine all day?” Elodie asked as Wilbur loomed behind her, listening to every word you said.

“Well, I thought it was cool! Scary at first because it was huge but, it was fun to watch! And also, it was nice getting to see him all day, I barely seen him for this long, so it’s nice sharing small moments with this silly cat man.” You smiled at Wilbur as Elodie panned the camera to you, then Wilbur, both of your smiles ridden with lovesick-ness. Anyone could see from afar how in love you are with each other, infatuation taking over your minds as Elodie cooed at the couple.

“Why thank you! I’ll leave you two be.” Elodie smiled at you as you nodded at her, thanking her as she walked away.

“Hey, thank you again, for coming.” Wilbur whispered in your ear as he wrapped himself around you from behind, slowly turning you around as he did.

“No need. I enjoyed my time and I will never listen to you about that again. If I didn’t come, I would’ve been on my ass all day while you were here, miserable without me.” You teased as his hands made contact with your waist, pulling you closer to him as you ran your hands through his hair once more.

His head rested on your chest as he let himself relax and decompose from the hard day, body bruised from all the tripping and random stunts that they had pulled.

“I love you.” Wilbur’s words were heavy and tired, yet love was in all of them. You smiled at him as he looked up at you, eyes holding more of a story to them that you’ll get tomorrow when it’s not dark out and it’s not bedtime.

His big brown eyes looked into yours as a soft smile made its way to your face, kissing being placed all over his face in gratitude and love. You couldn’t think about life without him, finding it too hard to be away from him for a couple hours , let alone for a couple minutes.

“And I love you.” You whispered back to him as everyone looked at the pair, too tired to say anything or make comments, just happy that there’s good surrounding them at the moment.

taglist: @evil-peanut-butter-addict-sam @number1wilburfan @horny-p0et @heartofwritiing (I just tagged random people but I plan on adding a Taglist so! If you want to be added, comment on this post or my inbox is open!)

[the-witchhunter]

DP X DC crossover ramble: No killing rule

So Batman’s no killing rule comes up a lot in fics. In some it’s not a problem, but mostly where I see it brought up is in regards to killing the Joker. Oh it would be so much easier and save so many people if Batman just killed him, right?

wrong.

The canonical reason Batman doesn’t kill isn’t some “killing a killer would make me just as bad as they are” thing. Batman knows he can kill, and how easy it would be. So easy, that if he does it once, he’s not going to stop. If he allows himself to kill, he’s going to kill a lot of people and Bruce knows this about himself. It’s not mercy to his villains, it’s mercy to the world that he doesn’t kill and believes in rehabilitation. How many people, how many family, how many lives would be ruined if he killed? Gotham would run red with blood, and Bruce is well aware of it. Killing wouldn’t make him just as bad, it would make him worse.

So it just comes across as a little dumb when people try writing Danny as morally superior in a fic where he kills the Joker. It misses the point of the no killing rule, and it never really wants to deal with the emotional fallout of having your teenaged character kill someone. It’s half-assed writing tbh. It feels tacked on not because people honestly think Danny would, but because they’re frustrated that Batman just hasn’t killed the Joker. It’s not added because people think Danny would, it’s added because the writer thinks someone should and Danny is their vehicle to do that.

And frankly there’s a much more interesting parallel between Batman and Danny where allowing themself to take the easy route would result in them being the worst monsters humanity has ever seen. Hello? Dan Phantom? The ultimate enemy? That’s exactly the type of thing Bruce is avoiding for himself. Given the explanation, Danny would understand all too well.

Also, in any universe where someone kills the Joker, bad things happen because of it. Injustice, the Bat Who Laughs, etc. 

I guess I’m just frustrated that when it happens it’s half assed? There’s no real consequences, the emotional toll is ignored, and the effects of Joker dying has on the world at large are ignored. If it’s going to be done, it shouldn’t be tacked onto the fic you want to tell, it should actually have some amount of focus because it should be a major plot point. It’s the joker, make it actually matter if you’re going to do it. 

[usmsgutterson]

This might be a bit untypical but would you be down to write a kaz x reader oneshot with reader gettinf hanahaki disease 👀 i love your writing and i love angst so might as well ask 😭

The Rain- K.B x gn! reader

Okay, this request was really fun because hanahaki has never been something I've ever actually written (I found it intimidating until I wrote this fic) but I had a blast! I too am a lover of angst and I hope that this packs a bit of a tearful punch for those in need of a good cry lol.

Fic type- angst

Warnings-mentions of vomiting/sickness, a mention of a cough, a mention of a concussion (nina threatens to throw kaz against a wall and a concussion is brought up)

It’d started six months after you realized you were in love with Kaz Brekker. Petals would start coming up as you coughed, having developed what you’d thought to be a cold. 

You dismissed it at first. You’d thought that it couldn’t be, there was no way that the feelings you felt for Kaz ran so deep, were so intense, that the mere fact that the feelings were unrequited would’ve triggered something like Hanahaki Disease. It just wasn’t possible.

But, over the next few months, it grew worse. One or two petals remained the same, but you grew to see them more frequently. You grew sicker and sicker, coughing up petals every single day, until you couldn’t hide it from the crows anymore. 

“I’ve heard of it,” Jesper said with an understanding nod. “Wylan thought it to be interesting. He wanted to find an antidote, and as a result, I’ve been hearing plenty about the disease for the past three months. He thinks he’s close, if that’s any consolation.”

“It stems from unrequited love, doesn’t it?” Nina asked. You were sitting with the two of them across from you, Inej sat to your right, in a booth at the Kooperom. It was early morning, the sun having risen and the day having begun. 

You gave a weak nod, and Ninas eyes turned pitiful instantly. 

“It’s Kaz, isn’t it?” Jesper asked. “If it is, then maybe your love isn’t unrequited. Maybe he’s just too emotionally constipated to realize that he might just love you as you do him.” 

“It’s been nine months,” you said. “I don’t know how much longer I have. I can’t keep waiting for him to realize that he might—I just can’t. The longest someone with Hanahaki has lived has been a decade, and that was only a one off. There’s no cure for this, I have to die in pain because I fell for someone I can’t have.” 

Inej took your hand, gave it a squeeze as you rested your head against her shoulder, fighting off tears at the thought of it.

It was true, though. The lifespan for people with Hanahaki Disease could be anywhere from two to eight years. It was less than a thousand days of sickness or barely less than three thousand, and you couldn’t figure out which sounded worse. Dying early and sick or dying with an additional eight years tacked onto your life but having barely been able to function after the sixth, likely being bedridden past the seventh.

“You can try to move on,” she said. “You can find someone new, or you can do what Jesper and I are doing. You can hope that Kaz Brekker is just a fool enough to have not realized he feels the same. You’re nine months in. You have at least another fifteen. Let yourself be hopeful until you’re down to a year left on the minimum scale.” 

Nina reached out, took your other hand, and Jesper gave you a sad grin. “Mind if I tell Wylan? Maybe get him to start devoting more time to antidote?”

You gave a wordless nod, took a deep breath in an effort to stop the tears before they came. 

“We’ll find a way,” Jesper said. 

“I will throw him against a wall,” Nina offered. “Give him a concussion, hope it makes him see sense.” 

You managed a laugh, hoping that a cough wouldn’t come from it and swallowing back the the petal you felt come up when a cough came to fruition. You were lucky to have the friends you did. You knew that. You’d always known that.

-

“Yeah,” you said, shrugging as you walked into Kaz’s office. “Sorry. I’ve been sick lately.”

“Nina mentioned it,” Kaz said with a nod. “Wylan was glowering at me when she did, too. I noticed you’ve been looking sickly lately but I figured it wasn’t my place to ask.”

“It’s not,” you said, heading straight to the kettle Kaz had kept in his office. “I mean—you don’t need to concern yourself with it, is all. It was terrible for about a year, but it’s been getting better recently.” 

A lie, of course. It was getting worse everyday, and you’d only looked so healthy because you’d called in a tailor and a healer to see what could be done. The tailor had made you look like the person you were before the sickness kicked in, and the healer lessened the effects. You’d gone from vomiting halves of flowers to vomiting a petal or two every few hours, reminiscent of how you were when it started. 

“You’ll be useful on jobs again, then. Good to know.” Part of you wanted to punch him in the face, and the other part knew that the idea of a job was exactly why you’d gone to see him. You missed the jobs, the ones you were too sick to take part in throughout that year. The healer had given you another year, at least. Six more months would surpass until you got sick and could no longer work. 

“Yeah. I want in on the next one.” 

“Consider it done,” Kaz said as you poured the hot water into a mug and added two teabags to it. “Let me guess, you came round to steal one of my mugs, make your demand, and then go?” 

You coughed into your elbow, feeling the petals land on your coat sleeve and adjusting before Kaz could notice them. 

“Of course I did, Brekker,” you said. “Why else?” 

Kaz paused, not knowing what to say.

“Because I’ve—” he’d what? Missed your company? Missed seeing your face everyday, talking to you, listening to the sound of your voice? Missed the sound of your laughter, the sharpness of your wit, the distinctive way his heart flittered when he would catch sight of your eyes in the glint of the sun? The distinctive way his heart flittered, the way which he’d long grown used to ignoring because love was weakness to him? “Nothing. Nothing.” 

You scoffed. “Of course it’s nothing,” you said as you moved to leave.

Kaz shrugged, saying nothing as he watched you go.

-

You’d had a lot less time than you’d thought. Three months later, when Wylan had thought he’d finally found an antidote, Inej had found you, sound asleep in your bed at the Slat, your pulse gone. 

The first person she told was Nina, and then she made it to the Van Eck mansion and told Wylan and Jesper. 

She delivered the news to Kaz last, informing him he’d have to find a replacement for the heist you were due to join them on when the crew left a week later because you’d died of Hanahaki disease.

There was a funeral, of course. It was a small one, just Nina, Wylan, Jesper, Matthias, Inej and Kaz. Your body was cremated, a small headstone placed in the cemetery close to Black Veil, and your ashes blended with soil so that your body could return to the ground and take root in the earth. 

The soil was used in the memorial garden Jesper and Wylan had started, the one that Inej visited daily and helped maintain in the dry summers, the one that made Nina burst into tears the minute she saw it through an open window.

Jesper and Wylan had long grown used to seeing Matthias' version of the same, the deflation of his shoulders and sad look in his eyes when he realized that the garden was the one with your ashes

One thing that Jesper noticed about Kaz was that, whenever he was over and the garden came into his sights, he looked remorseful. Like he’d known that you’d died and it’d technically been his fault. 

He could never keep his eyes on it for too long, Jesper observed. He would always snap his gaze away after a few moments and would blink rapidly like he was fending off an expression of genuine emotion. It made Jesper scoff whenever he noticed it, but in the end, all that mattered was that you were where you wanted to be.

In a garden, amongst your favorite flowers, soaking up the sun when it came around and the rain you’d loved so dearly when it fell.

[undercat-overdog]

So I was reading some of your older answers to questions about your fics when I became curious about something. Let’s pretend that there’s an AU where a more corruptible version of ‘Bones’ Celebrimbor accepts Sauron’s proposal to marry and rule with him. What would happen to Sauron if Celebrimbor were to die? (Let’s say in battle fighting for Sauron) Comparing it to Melian’s reaction to leave everything behind after Thingol’s death.

Hey anon! Thank you for the ask, and sorry for my delay in replying.

You know, I was thinking about it a while back and I definitely think there's a tack Sauron could have used that could have led to Celebrimbor's darker side coming through. I thought a bit a while back about how to do that and mostly they wouldn't work as an AU from that particular point in Bones (things like insidious mind control using the One, C being captured and through a mix of stockholm syndrome and wanting to make S's rule less horrible comes to participate - if you're curious about such AUs, simaetha on ao3 has some fantastic fic), but had Sauron framed it as less "let's rule the world together" and more "Gil-galad's not ambitious enough, you are, those less knowledgeable and skilled and smart as us 'wander here untaught', we need to raise them up, even if not all of them like it at first, etc." Basically the appeal he made to the Elves of Eregion in the Silm but upping the imperialism. Because Celebrimbor is prideful and is ambitious and does have a sense of superiority, and I definitely think it could be appealed to more.

Of course, Sauron didn't think he needed to hide his eventual plans, though he certainly planned to keep hiding his rather unique biography. He is also hiding his current extra-Eregion activities - he is at this point (c. SA 1200-1500) occasionally traveling around working on his evil empire. I like to imagine he sent back regular letters to Celebrimbor talking about how lovesick he is all the cool, definitely not evil-empire-related stuff he's seeing. Probably some rock samples or pressed flowers. He is being dishonest and deceiving Celebrimbor about a lot of stuff, but he is for the first time open and honest about his true goal in the proposal scene.

Anyways! In the scenario you propose, Sauron would react very, very poorly to Celebrimbor's death. Many people would die horribly. However he felt about Celebrimbor at the time - and I think he would probably end up respecting him less and Celebrimbor becoming somewhat less important in his life, thought certainly still very important - Celebrimbor is his and it is unacceptable that someone (else) hurt him. And elf soulbond! (I do love elf soulbonds.) I think it would cause a lot of pain to Sauron. Emotionally of course, he would be incredibly distraught and bereft, but metaphysically too.

To go to Melian's reaction, there's the interesting question of how she returned to Valinor. She is shapelocked, due to "begetting", but I find it logistically unlikely for her to have left Beleriand physically; I imagine she shed her form, which implies to me some sort of metaphysical change? She is no longer capable of being tied to Thingol physically (maybe a little desperate necro, but Thingol's no longer in that body). Likewise, in a situation where S loses his elf husband, I imagine it would create some sort of 'wound', if you will (and that Melian experienced that). Different in scale and effect than the loss of the One in canon, certainly not permanently incapacitating, but not too different in quality. A part of Sauron was wretched away, leaving a gaping, bleeding wound.

Many people would end up dying, horribly. But Sauron certainly isn't going to Valinor, as Melian did. I imagine the timeline and plot here would draw closer to canon. If the One wasn't already made (and I'm uncertain if a married Sauron could make the One as it is: his soul isn't just his own anymore, there's another soul that's intertwined with it*), I don't know if Sauron would make it, because I'm not sure there's the same incentive as there is in canon, but maybe something like it. But certainly going full on dark lord, Sauron the Great, King of the Earth, as he called himself in canon.**

*as a general rule I prefer 'soul' in writing, but yes, technically eala and fea and the two are different. Sauron has no "true" physical form and is whole without a fana, but Celebrimbor or any other elf are only whole when his fea and hroa/soul and body are together. But for the terms of a marriage bond, they function more or less interchangeably.

**what name he ended up using here is also open to debate. "Sauron the Great" is a title he did use canonically, but does anyone know he is Sauron/Gorthaur in this AU? Maybe not, aside from some Orcs! He's probably going by Annatar in this AU and he might end up keeping it. Well, as one of his names: I imagine he had many in different local languages.

(Also, please don't worry, your asks made me very happy to receive!)

[foreverisntenough]

Love your fics!!

What are your fave parts, spicy and/or non spicy, throughout the You’re Mine & Ours (and extras) fics?

Like what are you happiest with? And what was the most enjoyable to write?

Wowwww. These questionsss... I need other people to answer these too! Im dying to know but hmm... This will be long

Favorite Parts

Spicy: I think Chapter 2 leading into Chapter 3 in 'You're Mine' when they first begin to hook up... Is the one that outwardly sticks out to me because I was just so excited for it all to kick off.

You pulled one of his hands from you guiding it with your own up your body. From your ass, around your hip, up your stomach, racking your ribs, under and over top of the side of your boob, over your collarbone. Your hands moving painfully slow for Trent. He just wanted to ravage you. He wanted to protect you, love you but destroy you at the same time. He needed to know what you were like in bed. Now.

Chapter 29 in 'You're Mine' - Just anytime they would tease the other was 😮‍💨 Them laying in the cinema.

“Wouldn’t it be nice if I could just keep your cock warm inside me right now?” You whispered out of the blue into Trent’s ear. His eyes widened. His breath hitched. Your teeth nibbling and pulling on his earlobe. “Oh my goddd” he groaned but equally as quiet back to you feeling his cock start to harden. It resulted in him making another mistake in the video game.

Like any of the flirty bits like Chapter 29 in 'Ours' them laying in the cinema again. That room in general was spicy lol

“Is it? Because I think it turns you on.” You giggled with a cheeky smile giving him a bit of a tease. “I think it turns you on!” He yelped defending himself, turning your accusation back on you with an equally if not more cheeky smile. “Depends on the context, you just turn me on.” You repeated his initial commentary. He hummed in agreement, pecking your lips.

Non spicy: I think a lot of the more wholesome bits. maybe just the babies tbh

Chapter 15 in 'Ours' When teddy says 'dada' and they're playing footie.

“Good girl, Ted.” You encouraged her as you took your seat down onto the turf. You assumed after that reaction you’d be here for a while. You watched on with a smile. Teddy would turn around every so often to make sure you were still watching them after she heard your first compliment. If you happened to be on your phone the second she did, she would let you know. ‘Mama!’ yelled immediately grabbing your attention. They must’ve done that on repeat for an hour. Neither one was tired of it. Trent was stood on his knees next to her but leaned over and whispered in her ear. You watched him stand up and turn towards you. “Should we go get mummy?” He asked Teddy and started to jog towards you Teddy eagerly trying to keep up with him. You smiled and got up from the turf. You ran towards Teddy and scooped her up off the grass. She squealed.

Part 1 of 'The Epilogue' had to be Theo liking sheep for me. It was so beyond random but such a nice look at their family.

“Dada, know sheep are softs.” Theo tried to qualify what merited the new obsession. “Erm… yeah I guess, mate. Any other info for me or just that they’re soft.” Trent tried to stifle his laugh. He wasn’t expecting Theo to dole out any real reasoning but ‘soft’ wasn’t really high on his list either. He was also trying to work out if Theo had even seen a sheep in person. “Cool toos.” Theo tacked on. “Okay, soft and cool, that's valid enough. C’mere my little sheep.” Trent cooed, squeezing Theo a little tighter as he wriggled in his dad’s arms, still going on about the animal with unabated enthusiasm

I'll be so real any little scene with Teddy

In the pool - Chapter 21

“Mama! Like wawa!!!” She squealed. You giggled and pressed kisses to her cheek sporadically, keeping her close to you not letting her leave her seat safe on the step.

Racing in the house - Chapter 26

“Erm…” Teddy hummed thinking for a moment what to do. She wanted to win too but his arm clearly stretched past hers and you all could see that. “Tie dada, tay? We tie, tay?” She smiled at him before scootching herself up a little more on the carpet on her belly with a wiggle for their fingers to come be relatively aligned. Your heart warmed.

Afraid of thunderstorms - Chapter 23

“Ted...” he tried not to laugh. “Look, baby.” He pointed to the splashing puddles on the patio stone outside the glass door “It’s just wawa. You’re okay.” He cooed. They sat there for a while embraced. Teddy squeezing him a little tighter every time she heard the thunder but bravely watched the puddles regardless. 

The chapter I am happiest with probably has to be Chapter 1 of ‘You’re Mine.’ I don't think it is the best as far as composition but it just set the tone for obviously a massive piece of work. I thought it was enticing, exciting, realistically farfetched. The whole thing made me smile.

Most enjoyable to write: These are probably two very contrasting chapters but they were by far my favorites to write

Chapter 12 in 'Ours' was probably one of my favorite chapters start to finish.

Chapter 19 in 'Ours' was... and I know this is backwards but I love the turmoil.

You didn't ask this but just general recurrences I always liked... Marcel and Teddy's relationship, Trent being soft, Anytime Y/N opened up, Trent dropping his bags by the door. idkkk....

Anything readers liked that I missed?

TY again for this question

[borntoocry]

ellie x fem!reader

reader is Tommy and maria's adopted daughter Who's never been outside of jackson and also has a BIG crush on ellie

Tommy decides One day to invite his Brother ,Joel , over for a family dinner where while the olders are talking , reader and ellie are in reader's room where She tells the auburn haired girl her Wish (going to a real Mall)

funny thing ellie found One and decides It would be a perfect date to ask reader out ,they sneak out and ellie brings reader to this Mall where they have a almost-death experience since our smartass ellie forgot to clear out of infected some shops , they make It out alive but reader ends up with a medium/big wound (NOT A ZOMBIE BITE PLEASE) and they're like " well good luck to us explaining that to Maria"

They go home to find very angry and upset Brothers +Maria

(if you like It i also have an idea for a Little part 2 AND ALSO SORRY FOR BAD ENGLISH🤍)

THIS WAS SO GOOD??? HELLO??? OFC! the first part will be the dinner with a bit of an argument, and the second part will be the mall. we'll see how long we can drag this on for. thank you for this anon!

this is a fem!oc x Ellie williams fic. she's a poc. sorry if this diverges from what you wanted, I just wanted to write something in first pov instead of YN. (is that okay??)

warnings: conversation about death. drinking. some kissing. that's about it.

PART II

I fucking hate the apocalypse. Then again, who enjoys it? Besides psychos testing out their survival skills. 

The apocalypse means losing people: people you’ve known since birth, people you’ve known since your mind could render memories, and people who you never got to know due to your young mind. Like my mom. Young and full of hope, which is something everyone says when they talk about the dead mom they don’t remember. But from what I hear, that’s what she was like. 

Her name was Poppy, which means that I might’ve had weird grandparents. And because my name is Clementine, that means I might’ve had a weird mom. From the pictures tacked onto my wall, it seems so: she had blue hair as a teenager, she dyed it every so often from shades of pink to purple and orange. She had piercings all over her ears and a couple on her face, and she had tattoos that littered her soft tan skin. 

I have… nothing. I’m bare. All that I have is curly hair and tan skin from my mom, and an odd shade of hazel eyes from my dad. I don’t match myself whatsoever. But I guess that’s why I’m like my mom–I don’t make sense. 

But the one person who has made an effort to make me make sense is Ellie–Joel’s ‘daughter,’ who isn’t truly his daughter because they are not related whatsoever. She’s just been around him since she was 14. I make an effort to make that known, because people around town consider me Tommy and Maria’s daughter, which then implies that I’m Joel’s niece. Which I am not. Because if I was, that would make the entire situation of me liking Ellie sort of… incest-y. 

But me and Tommy and Maria are not blood related, and me and Ellie and Joel and whatever this family is, are not related either. I’ve just been taken in by Tommy and Maria since I was three years old.They care for me like their own. And for that, I’m grateful. 

Tommy enjoys inviting Joel and Ellie to dinner at least once a week; because we’re a group of  put together people that have been through more shit than we probably should’ve. And every week, they come over. Sometimes with food, sometimes with alcohol. Maria allows me to drink because she says I’m mentally old enough. That and from what Tommy says, laws don’t really exist anymore, so they can’t really go to jail for letting me drink underage.

This week, Maria has made lasagna and her famous salad, which is just a mixture of pickled vegetables tossed in oil and goat cheese with lettuce. It really is good, but I won’t lie and say I haven’t gotten a bit tired of it. I eat it anyway, because Maria is a marvelous cook and I’d rather stab my eye than ask her to make something different. 

I set up the table and lay out five wine glasses. I usually sit next to Ellie while the old adults sit next to each other around the end of the table. I somehow still get nervous sitting next to her even after four years of knowing one another. It starts off with a rumbling in my stomach, and then a batch of butterflies find their way into my chest and absorb all of the liquids spewing into my body. I can’t really stop it, but at least they don’t attack my vocal chords. 

“You done?” Tommy asks as he walks into the room with two bottles of wine. This week, Ellie is making her famous garlic rolls, which pair amazingly with Maria’s lasagna. Because she never makes them, I eat one too many and end up tipsy and bloated. 

I nod and grab the bottles from his hands. I set them in the center alongside the other bottle of wine and one singular bottle of whiskey. This family drinks too much, but no one seems to care. It’s a Friday, after all. 

“How does it look?” I ask, waving a hand over the table. 

Tommy smiles, which force his wrinkles to dance about his face. “It looks wonderful like always, sweetheart.” He comes around and wraps an arm around my shoulders. I pat his hand and lean my head against his. 

I love Tommy–he’s truly my father even though I’ll never call him dad. I guess he knows that, but he’s fine with it. I call him ‘My Tommy’ to everyone I know, which is somehow more special than the title ‘dad.’ 

“Awe, look at you guys,” Maria says as she enters the dining room. She places her lasagna and salad in the center of the table and can’t stop her smile from spreading along her entire face at the sight of us. “My Tommy and my Clem. You are adorable.” 

I kiss Tommy’s cheek and pull away, smiling back at Maria who has now run around the table to kiss Tommy. I don’t watch as she kisses him, but I hear the peck. 

 I take one last look at the table, trying to see if there’s anything I need to perfect. But as nothing comes to mind, there’s a knock at the door. I turn to look at Tommy and Maria, but quickly leap towards the door when I find them kissing. 

I already know who it is, so I don’t check the peephole. I unlock the door and twist the handle, opening it up to see Joel and Ellie on the other side. Joel holds a bottle of whiskey and Ellie holds a dish of rolls. 

I smile and take the whiskey from Joel. “I don’t think we need anymore of this, but thank you.” 

They step inside and I shut the door behind them. “There’s no such thing as too much whiskey.” 

“Or wine,” Ellie states, which draws me over to her. 

I look at her and smile. “Well wine, no. Whiskey, maybe.” 

Her hair that’s tossed into a low bun shakes along with her head. Some tendrils of hair fly into her face and I fight against my fluttering stomach not to push them out of my face. To fight it, I look away and take the whiskey to the dining table. 

Tommy watches me place the whiskey next to the plenty of other bottles and chuckles. “Thank you brother but that might be too much.” 

“That’s what I said,” I tell him. “Do you want me to take it to the kitchen instead?” 

Tommy shakes his head. “Leave it. It’s a Friday and I’m sure we’ve all had a rough week.” 

I nod even though I don’t do much around Jackson. I’m not really allowed to go out on patrol like Ellie. My mom died that way. Maybe not riding around safely like Ellie, but she died out on patrol. And ever since I was old enough to take on tasks, I was labored with tending to the farm animals. 

I have never gone outside of the walls of Jackson. I’ve begged Tommy and Maria, but they always say no. We’ve even gotten into fights about it, which have led me to nights in Ellie’s room, where she tells me stories of what she’s seen out there. And some of those stories have included a mall. 

Because of her stories, I have dreamed about sneaking away and finding that said mall. Even though I know it won’t happen, I dream about it–because how harmful can a dream be? 

“Alright, has everyone washed their hands?” Maria asks. 

Tommy and Joel nod but Ellie and I look over at one another, shaking heads. I head into the kitchen with her behind me and the butterflies come out in full effect, knocking into the walls of my stomach. 

I eject soap into my hands and turn on the sink, quickly shoving my hands underneath the slow stream to get some bubbles forming. As I knead the soap into my hands, Ellie clears her throat. I look over at her with a smile and she begins a conversation. 

“How are you doing?” she asks. 

I nod. “Good. So far, I’m doing good.” 

“Has that guy Jacob been bothering you?” she asks, referring to this one guy around our age that can’t seem to stop pestering every girl in Jackson. He used to catcall me everyday during the summer. I wore shorts and thin shirts so I wouldn’t overheat, and he’d come over whistling at me, hoping I’d feed into his delusions. 

I never told him I wasn’t into his type, so he kept coming onto me. Until a couple weeks ago when I punched him so hard that he fell back and got a concussion. I guess that gave him the memo. 

I wash the suds out of my hands as I shake my head. “He hasn’t talked to me since you know what.” 

She laughs and takes my spot by the sink. “That was badass, by the way,” she tells me as the soap suds up in her hands. 

My cheeks become hot and I laugh. “Thanks,” I say, “you’ve told me that quite a couple times.” 

Her cheeks heat up and swell with blood, but I try not to think of it. Instead, I focus on her hands and the way the soap begins vanishing from her fingers. The new tattoos that tread down her hands come into full effect and I have to turn away. 

“I say it ‘cause it’s true,” she tells me as she dries her hands on her jeans. 

I shrug. “It’s no biggie.” 

“What’s no biggie?” Joel asks as he steps into the kitchen. 

“Me punching Jacob,” I tell him. 

He laughs and grabs a couple more napkins from the counter. “That was bad ass, by way.” 

Ellie and I turn to one another and laugh. Joel, as confused as he is, turns away and re-enters the dining room, where we follow him into and sit down for dinner. 

We’re three bottles of wine into dinner and I’ve had about two very full glasses. Even though I’ve been allowed to drink around Tommy and Maria since I turned 17, I haven’t gained a high enough tolerance. So now I drunkenly sit in my seat with one of Ellie’s garlic rolls in my hand. 

Tommy and Joel are laughing at something Maria said, and Ellie is staring me down. 

“You don’t think you’ve had enough to drink?” she asks as she glances at my wine glass. 

I shrug. “You want some?” 

She shrugs. 

“Have it,” I tell her. 

She chugs the rest and places the glass next to her, as if to say, ‘Now you can’t get any more.’ I’m fine with that, so I chow down on the garlic roll and listen to the adults. 

This runs for about ten minutes before the conversation is redirected towards the teenagers. “So,” Maria says, “how are you girls?” 

I glance at Ellie and I catch her looking back at me. Her red cheeks make a re-appearance and I mistake it for the wine and whiskey. Ellie looks back at Maria and smiles. “We’re good. Well–I’m good. I’ve been doing fine on patrols and all that.” She turns to me again and with her red cheeks and perfectly molded lips, asks, “And you, Clem?” 

I shake out of my drunken thoughts and crookedly smile. “It’s been fine on the farm.” 

Joel glances between me and Ellie and chuckles. “You hate it at the farm, don’t you?” 

I shrug. I pick at the leftover pieces of dead lettuce on my plate and try to find words that don’t come off as bitchy. But I fail. The words tumble out of my mouth before I can slap a hand over my lips. “Nothing new ever happens and I can’t do anything else, so yeah, I kinda do hate it.” 

Maria sighs and I look up at her. “You know you can’t go on patrol, Clem.” 

“Well I can’t do anything else here either.” 

“Clementine, don’t start your arguing,” Tommy warns. 

I scoff. “I’m not arguing, I’m just trying to understand why you won’t let me go on patrol.” 

“Because–” Maria starts. 

“Because what? Ellie goes on patrol!” 

“That’s different,” Joel mutters. 

I avert my gaze towards him and ask, “How? How is it different?” 

“Your mom died while out on patrol,” he continues. 

“From what I know, combat skills aren’t hereditary. Y’all can teach me! Ellie can teach me.” 

Ellie stays silent. I suddenly  feel bad for jamming her into our conversation. She sits next to me and places her hand on my hand, forcing my trembling fingers to die down. She leans in and tries to whisper something in my ear, but I shove her away and continue with the conversation between me and the adults. 

“Stop trying to fight this, Clementine,” Tommy tells me. 

“But you can teach me! How do you know I’ll die if you don’t teach me how to defend myself?” 

“Your mother knew how to defend herself,” Maria says, but before she can continue, I cut her off. 

“Okay then! So teach me how to defend myself.” 

“But she was stupid and got herself killed. And I’d rather keep you locked in Jackson than have you do the same.” 

“So I’m stupid?” I ask. The color drains out of my face and leaves me as pale as a ghost. I’ve always been mistaken for Tommy and Maria’s daughter due to my skin color, but now that my color has drained from my body, I feel like everything that used to connect me to this couple is gone. “You think that because my mom died stupidly, I’ll do the same?” 

Maria shuts her eyes and pulls herself away from the table. She stands up and gathers her and Tommy’s plates. “We’re not talking about this. Talk to your Tommy and leave me out of it.” 

Tommy glances at me and I look away, pulling myself away from the table and fleeing. I trip over the chair and try kicking it away, but Ellie latches her hand onto my arm and pulls me around the tipping chair. 

She helps me up the stairs as my vision becomes blurred and once we enter my bedroom, I flop onto my bed. She shuts my door and I instantly sob. 

“Hey, you’re okay,” Ellie whispers as she plops down next to me and rubs her hands along my spine. “You’re okay, Clem.” 

I shake my head. “Fuck them!” I exclaim. “They’ve kept me locked up in Jackson my entire life and expect me not to want to go out? I’m a fucking human, not a pet!” 

“They just want to keep you safe, Clem.” 

I drunkenly disobey, pushing her off and scooting up to the back of my bed. She crawls towards me and sits in front of my legs. She places her hands on top of my knees and slowly rubs her thumbs along the grooves. 

“Leave me alone,” I whisper. 

“Nothing they said was true,” she tells me. 

I look up at her with a frown. “How do you know that?” 

“You’re the smartest girl I know, Clem.” 

I roll my eyes. 

Ellie slaps my knee and cowers over me. “I mean it. You’re incredibly intelligent with animals. You practically speak to them!” 

“I’m telling you, I’m weird.” 

She shakes her head and places her hands on both of my knees. She spreads them apart and crawls between them. I gulp down the nervousness cinching my throat and try to push myself back against my bed. But I’m already against the wall. 

I’ve wanted this ever since I met Ellie. Sure, it was inappropriate for a fourteen-year-old to be thinking about this very moment where Ellie kisses me, but I couldn’t just knock those thoughts away. They have been imprinted onto my mind ever since, and now it’s happening. 

Or maybe not. We’re drunk. But I so badly want this. 

“What’s so bad about being weird?” she asks me in a seductive tone that makes an awful whining noise come out of my throat. She chuckles and lowers her head even more. “What was that?” 

I shrug. “I’m nervous,” I say. “And we’re drunk.” 

“And what about this is making you nervous?” 

“It looks like you want to kiss me…” I whisper. 

“And what if I do?” 

I raise an eyebrow. 

Ellie places her lips on my forehead and smoothes the wrinkles lining my skin. “You are nothing they say you are. You’re intelligent, you’re beautifully weird and you I know you’d be one badass fighter.” 

I look up at her, our lips mere centimeters apart, and frown. “Then why don’t they see that?” 

Ellie’s fingers move up from the bottom of my neck up to my cheeks. She rubs her thumbs along my lips and whispers, “They do, I promise you they do, Clem. I think maybe they don’t want to risk losing you, even if they can show you how to be a badass warrior.” 

I crack a smile, even though it might be the fakest one I’ve ever put on. She must notice, though, because she leans in as close as she can. “If I kiss you, is there a chance this frown will disappear?” 

I lick my lips and stare up at her dark eyes that seem to seep into my body. “Maybe,” I whisper, and allow her lips to sink into mine. 

Her hands wrap around my cheeks and mine wrap around her hair. She pushes me down into my bed and I slowly lean back, wrapping my legs around her waist. I act needy, because I am. I kiss her like I’ve always dreamed of, with my lips following hers and opening up my mouth when she wants to dart her tongue in. 

I’ve kissed one person before Ellie, but it was to get her off my mind. She was spinning in my head, owning every single crevice of my brain. I used to think it was on purpose–the universe was trying to drive me mad before the walls of Jackson did. But now I think… Well, I don’t know  what the universe was trying to do. What I do know is that all those times I made out with Kennedy was to prepare me for the making out Ellie and I are doing. 

The kissing between Ellie and I is fervent. She’s kissing my lips, sucking my bottom lip, kissing along my neck down to my collarbones. She’s trying to pull a leg over one of mine so she can–what I assume–hump it, but before she does, I pull away. 

“Maybe let’s go back down,” I whisper, out of breath. 

She pulls her head away from my neck and brushes her hair out of her face. “Not yet,” she says. “I have something to tell you.” 

I nod. “Do you like me?” I ask. 

She chuckles. “Yes, but that’s not what I was going to say.” 

I frown. “Oh.” 

“I thought that was obvious,” she tells me. “That I like you. I’ve been staring at you ever since I showed up.” 

I drop my head in embarrassment and sheathe my eyes with my hands. “I couldn’t tell. I’m sorry.” 

Ellie lifts my head with both of her hands and sits on her calves in front of me. She kisses the corner of my lips and pulls away. “It’s okay, Clem. Don’t worry about that right now.” 

I nod. “So… then… tell me what you were going to say.” 

She nods and drops her hands onto my shoulders, where she rubs my blades. “You remember that mall I told you about ages ago?” 

My eyes open wide and I smile. “Yes. The one you found when you went on patrol the first few times.” 

She nods. “What if I sneak you out one of these days and take you there? Just us. We can look around and make it memorable for your first time outside of Jackson?” 

I nod. I nod like a child who’s just had a tub of sweets. “Yes!” I exclaim, but quickly run a hand over my mouth. “Sorry… But yes! We should.” 

Ellie nods and kisses me one more time. “How about next Friday? Our dinner will be at 4, and we can sneak out and make it back here by midnight. They won’t even notice we’re gone–they’ll be drunk by eight o’clock.” 

I nod. “Okay. Deal.” 

Ellie kisses the side of my head and pulls away, crawling off my bed. She walks over to my record station and thumbs through my vinyl records. I crawl to the end of my bed and watch as she grabs one and pulls it out of its sleeve. She pulls the needle up and sets the record down. Then she places the needle back down on the record and we wait for the music to begin. 

Ellie turns and extends a hand. “Wanna dance? To get you out of your bad mood?” 

I bite down on my lips to hide my smile and nod. I take her hand and she pulls me up, almost launching me into the air. I hold onto her as she spins me around, and once we’re tired, we plop back onto my bed. 

I turn my head to her and smile because she’s already looking back at me. “I’m excited about this trip,” I whisper in case anyone is standing outside.

“Me too. I’ll make sure to make it extra special.” 

“You promise?” 

She nods. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.” 

[overnighttosunflowers]

Uh, hi! 👋 I’ve read all of ur fics (obsessed with ur fics) and bookmarks for imodna. I was wondering if u have any other recs? I am dying for this ship. /fans self. 🥵

do I have two imodna anons now or is this my same friend back again. either way HELLO AND THANK YOU FOR THE ASK I am sure I do have recs!! also apologies for the delay in answering this because it was a good question and I had to think about it and also my week has been nuts

a lot of my smut bookmarks are on private because (shrugs vaguely in the direction of self-consciousness). while I don't know exactly what kinds of fics you're looking for, judging by your emoji usage I'm gooooooing to guess smut is up your alley and I will rec some under the assumption that this post is going to get buried real quick. also sticking some non-smuts by the same authors. if you are looking for sfw fic specifically shoot me another ask and I'll tack on some more

all 3 of HoodieHeda's fics, also rec High Speed Connection which is sfw and a goddamn delight

all of picturesofthegoneworld's fics but there are a bunch so I will specifically say I'll Come Running and Horripilation (but also seriously read them all)

doribuki's Something To Be Said About Delights anthology fic, plus I already recced her That Look That's Perfectly Un-Sad (sfw) on a different anon post and their current WIP To All Things Housed In Her Silence (sfw) is rewiring my brain

all of marleybone's fics but I'll pick out Flashing Colors because I reread it recently. also his WIP Consequences of a Bleeding Heart is brilliant

vividfriend's true refraction is absolutely wonderful and the rest of their fics are too, homecoming (sfw) was a really lovely post-rez fic

if you like my fics you will probably like lorelei_de_rolo's fics

AstoriaColumnStaircase did a really cool fic called Command that played with use of that spell in a smut context, also her Flowers (sfw) lives rent-free in my head every day of my goddamn life and she does really cute comics too

the_chainbreaker's Think About Me does really cool fun hot things with differing POV narration

imogntemult wrote a really lovely morning sex fic called golden (like daylight)

pmonkey816 wrote a great post-episode-33 fic (i.e. when we knew shit with Otohan had gone bad, but Laudna wasn't quite dead yet) called Wrap me up, Unfold me and I've been meaning to read their We Do, but Friends Don't for ages and ages and have heard good things

acquario wrote a really lovely fic called before you go, can you read my mind?

pieces by Bugsquads is hot as hell

not smut but rozecrest has two lovely poetic little fics that I highly recommend which you have probably already read as I think they are in my bookmarks (as are a number of these probably)

and, not smut but every single goddamn pigflight fic but more specifically I Feel Blood or Amory if you're looking for fucked up and i let it turn me 'round or you wanna be friends forever? if you're looking for sweet.

OKAY THERE ARE DOUBTLESS MORE but my brain is, frankly, melting and I need to go to bed so PLS ENJOY <3

[neko-naruto]

if you stay, I would even wait all night

summary: Time really missed her wife

warnings: none!

authors note: go vote on @godmodebeginswithlesbians poll i even wrote a fic. Ao3 port has the cut smut at the very end. title from Summertime by MCR, consider dropping a comment on the Ao3 port or reblogging.

https://www.tumblr.com/godmodebeginswithlesbians/742795180602785792/ok-lu-fandom-just-a-research-question-which

What Time missed the most was her wife, her lovely, amazing, wife Malon who she ran a farm with. She spent multiple sleepless nights laying awake just trying to not think of Malon because they'd be reunited soon enough, even if brief.

"I miss her," Time sighed out one night and everyone's attention snapped to her.

"Her?!" Was Twilights reaction.

"What do you mean her?!" Four quickly chimed in with.

Time took only a brief pause to think over what to say next, "My wife."

"Your wife?" Warriors scoffed, "I got nothing against it, but I took you for something else."

"Really? I thought it was pretty clear," Sky stated.

"Of course you did," Wild said, "You aren't exactly subtle either."

Legend cleared her throat, "Tell us more about this wife of yours."

"It'd be a waste, I don't even know if you're gonna meet her," Time tried to argue despite knowing none of the chain would let up.

"We're dying to know," Wind practically begged, "We thought you had a husband."

"Tell us about her," Warriors said, "Unless you're a coward."

"Fine, she's a rancher, she's the nicest lady you'll ever meet in your entire life, she has red hair," Time began, proceeding to list off almost every single attribute her wife had except for her name.

-/-/-/-

"Link!"

They all turn to the sound of the voice, but Time is the only to smile. She meets the redhead in the middle, holding her close and kissing her like she was in drought. Her wife's skin is soft and she looks as perfect as the day they met even after months of separation. And maybe it was a bit unrealistic for Time to think she'd change very much in that timeframe, but it makes her feel even better over being able to hold her again.

She doesn't want to let go, not even for a single second. But she does the second she realizes her teammates are staring. She still keeps an arm around her wife's waist, "This my wife, Malon."

Legend has this smug look on her face and Warrior's reluctantly hands over some rupees. Legend is counting them as she speaks, "Told you it wasn't Zelda."

Malon looks cautiously across Time's teammates, counting them and studying them. She tries to give a warm smile, "You lot have been keeping my wife safe?"

They all grin at that, but Legend is the one who speaks up, "We absolutely have, Malon."

Four tacks on, "We wouldn't let a fly touch her."

Malon giggles a bit the replies she got, "Good, I'd be scared if she got hurt."

Time clears her throat to try and shift attentions, "Welcome to Lon Lon Ranch."

-/-/-/-

[rancidpancakebatter]

Another Way to Fly-[P.P.] | Chapter Two

Pairing: TASM!college!Peter Parker x female!college!reader

Summary: You've been dating Harry Osborne for three years. You love him...but maybe not as much as you once did. Maybe not enough.

AU Where Norman isn’t as sick- he’s just an asshole- and Gwen doesn’t go to Oxford. Harry is functioning as an apprentice at Oscorp (He graduated with a master's in two years because of his studying abroad). You, Peter, and Gwen are all seniors at ESU. Because Peter isn't Spider-Man and Norman isn’t dying, the whole “Goblin” thing is scratched from the record, so Peter and Harry are besties.

Prompt: Based on an ask for my 200 Follower celebration

Word Count: 4.2k

Content Warnings: Swearing, Implications of sex

Previous | Chapter List | Next

A/N: Hey guys! This chapter is a little bit of filler. I'm trying to paint what a relationship with Harry looks like and it's a little hard because I've never put much thought into that. I've read some fics to see what the consensus is and also done my own theorizing. That's right, I'm doing fuckin' research for this fic. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

“This was lovely dear. You’re an amazing cook,” Norman said with something you think might be close to a genuine smile. 

“Yeah, it was delicious, honey,” Harry quickly tacks on. 

You smile and thank them, then continue to internally pout. This compliment (and unwelcomed pet name) came after about an hour of Norman’s “concern” for his son’s health. He announced that, in seven months, Oscorp would be hosting a marathon for veterans. What exactly he was helping the veterans with went unanswered. Is it to cover medical expenses, a rally to advocate for their mental health? No one knew. 

You assume he just thinks the promotion will look good and didn’t think much more of it. Either way, all these heavy carbs weren’t good for Harry, and he needs to start training so he can participate. And you need to make better food for his son. Harry, of course, never showed interest in running it, but he will because Norman told him to. 

Norman finally stands from the table, and you silently cheer. He’s leaving, fucking finally. You had decided not to mention that you had made a dessert because:

 A) It had gluten in it. 

And 

B) You didn’t want his stay to last any longer than absolutely necessary. 

You and Harry walked him to the door as he put on his coat and told you, “We’ll have to do this again.” Harry politely agreed, and you remained silent, conserving your energy to keep up the plastic smile that was starting to hurt your cheeks. 

When the elevator doors closed, and he was finally gone, you let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Your hands flew to your head, trying to nurse the headache you felt building. You take another deep breath and see Harry just standing there, as if waiting to see if Norman will return. You imagine he did that for most of his life. Standing at doors and waiting for Norman to walk through them. 

Your heartbreak quickly leads to anger. Yet another reason Norman Osborn should be dead in a ditch somewhere, instead of ruining your life and evening. 

You take off your heels, eyes still trained on Harry. You were standing in the doorway waiting, just as he was. But you weren’t sure why. You didn’t know what you wanted Harry to do, but you wanted him to do something. Anything. 

It had maybe only been thirty seconds, but it felt like aeons spent in this foyer. You feel irritated. By all of this. Everything. You turn on your heels with a puff. Your hands move to let down your hair. The clip is discarded on the dining room table as you loosen your hair and pad across the kitchen floor. 

You reach for the tray of tarts and pull out the bowl of whipped cream. You leaned against the counter as you grab a pastry, dipping it in the cream and bringing it to your lips. Not all is ruined. 

The tart berries stain your lips, and the sugar melts in your mouth. You feel a little better. Despite his best efforts, Norman can’t ruin everything. These tarts were saved from his brutality. A piece of your evening was salvageable. 

You hear Harry’s shoes clacking against the hardwood. Their stiff professionalism reverberating against the high vaulted ceilings and stainless steel appliances. He turns the corner and closes his eyes taking a deep breath. When his eyes open, they land on you, and a small, tired smile grows across his face. 

He untucks his shirt and trudges over to you. His hands loosely wrap around your waist as he leans in to steal a quick kiss. His tongue swipes across your lip, catching the gram cracker crumbs and nectar. He leans back with a delighted moan.

“This is delicious, babe.”

You give him a tight smile and nod in agreement. He lays a kiss on the corner of your mouth, and you raise your now-empty hands to his shoulders, keeping him from getting much closer. He follows your gentle directions, and you push away from the counter to grab your wine glass. 

Your back is turned as you uncork the bottle on the counter. The merlot gurgles happily as it flows from bottle to cup. As your glass fills, you feel a hand gently resting on your ass as Hare comes closer. He kisses your shoulder before reaching above you to grab a glass for himself. 

His nose is buried in the crook of your neck as you fill the glass. His lips stick to your skin with each sweet kiss. Your nerves are too shot to enjoy it though. Usually, this would be comforting. Maybe it would have been if you had gotten the night-in you had planned, but now it felt overwhelming. 

You twisted around in this grasp, pushing his hand away from your ass as you passed him the glass. He smiles at you and goes to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, but you dodge it with a planned sip from your glass. 

Harry releases a heavy sigh before setting his drink back on the counter. His hands go for your waist but then redirect to the countertop, thinking better of it. 

His face pulled into a concerted pout, “What’s wrong? Why can’t I touch you?”

You bring your hand up to rub your face and groan when you feel your forgotten makeup smearing against your palm. You present it to him as an answer to his question. 

“Got it.” He nods his head in understanding, “Bad day.”

You stand from the counter, and Harry retracts his arms so you can go to the sink. You use the dish soap to scrub off the tacky black streak on your hand, telling yourself you’ll moisturise the cracking skin later. You flicked your hands dry in the basin and turn to grab a hand rag. Harry was already standing there with a fluffy towel laid out across his open palms and a sympathetic smile. 

“I’m sorry, babe.” A small smile creeps onto your face as you let him pat your hands dry. He wraps them in the towel and presses the heap of cotton to his chest. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

His kindness is a twinkle of fairy dust over your heart. Golden glitter gently drifting down and warming your soul. You take a relaxing sigh, pushing all of the negativity out of you. Your eyes land on Harry as you walk yourself closer. 

“I just want to enjoy the rest of my evening,” you say with a warm smile. 

Harry’s smile grows in time with yours. 

“You do?” He asks with an almost childlike giddiness. 

It makes you giggle, and now his smile splits his face. He takes the towel from your hands and tosses it on the counter. He then returns his hands to yours, laid flat against his steady thrumming chest. 

“Well, in that case,” he says, dropping his hands to your waist. “You should relax.”

“I should?” You ask with a playful smile. 

“Mh-hm,” he hums “and I know just what you need?”

He briefly squeezes your sides, tickling you as he steps closer- chest to chest. 

“I think,” he says, eyes wandering and licking his lips, “We should get you out of this uncomfortable dress.”

He punctuates the statement with a kiss to your shoulder as a delicate finger slowly brushes the thin strap down your arm. His kisses trail close to your throat, and you crane your neck to give him better access. 

“You looked so much more comfortable before, when I first came home. Wearing nothing but my shirt and that set I can’t resist.”

He whispered the words onto your skin, and it left you shuddering. 

“I think you should unwind,” he pulled your hips against him in a teasing grind that provided no real satisfaction, only the promise of feeling more of Harry. “And let me take care of you.”

One of his hands drifted lower, fingers skating around your skirt. You bite your lip in anticipation. 

“And then I think we run a bath. And you can vent about your bad day,” his palm now rests against your bare hip, where his thumb rubs circles above the band of your panties. “Or we can talk about the good parts of your day. And I can tell you about mine. And we can catch up.”

He dips his forehead down, and you rest yours against it. 

You hum, “That sounds nice, Hare.”

He pulls his head away to look into your eyes. He doesn’t say or do anything for a moment. Then his other hand joins your bare flesh, and he smiles, pulling you forward a bit. You have to tilt your head to see him now. He smiles down at you with rascality gleaming in his perfectly whitened teeth. 

“You haven’t even heard the best part yet.” He says. 

Your eyes practically sparkle with the pure, curious desire to know what “the best part” is. Harry chuckles at your excitement and leans down to whisper in your ear again. 

“Dessert and wine get to be enjoyed in the bubble bath.”

You clap in glee. He was right; that was the best part. 

“Does that sound good to you?”

You nod your head yes, as you tip your chin up, pressing your lips together. You feel Hare’s grip on your hips tighten, fingers gravitating towards the silk bows on your lace. 

“You know,” you say, pulling away, out of reach, “I’m still wearing the same set.”

Harry closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. The irises you’re met with now are swirling tides with pupils blown. He looks like a starved man. 

His lips crash onto yours, and his tongue is quick to dart out. You open your lips for him as his hands travel up your sides to cup your boobs. You moan into the kiss, arching your chest into him. It turns hungry and passionate, and your hands run from his chest to his blonde locks. He bends down slightly and grabs at the back of your thighs. You jump, and he quickly turns to set you on the counter, where you continue your heavy petting for a bit longer. 

The next morning, you wake to the feeling of soft lips pressed against your neck and hands roaming against your hips under the sheets. Your eyelids are heavy, and you can feel the sun coming through the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, the warm rays soaking into your skin and warming your bones. Harry’s nose is tracing patterns on the side of your face. 

“Hey, pretty lady.” He punctuates the statement with a kiss on your cheek. You groan turning away, not quite ready to accept that you are now awake. Harry chuckles, his hands giving you a little squeeze as he places another kiss on your shoulder. “I hate to tell you, but you have class today.”

You groan again, this time much louder and into the authentic down pillow propping up your head. Your boyfriend offers his sympathies, though you don’t miss the amusement tainting his words. 

But then his hands are gone. He’s rising and stretching, throwing the blankets off of himself, and in turn you. The AC is blasting, and you feel goosebumps erupt across your flesh. You curl up into a ball while Harry steps into the shower. 

You decide you might as well get up now that the bed is no longer comfy. The realisation that you’re naked dawns on you, and an odd discomfort pulls at you. You quickly put on some panties and Harry’s crumpled dress shirt from the night before. It feels a little better. 

The bathroom is your first stop, then brushing your teeth and washing your face. Harry bought you a jade roller and a little mini fridge for serums you didn’t fully understand. He mentioned something about preventing wrinkles, but to be honest, that’s never something you were worried about. It didn’t occur to you, at twenty-one, that smile lines were a bad thing. But Harry gets sad when you don’t use them. 

As you roll the slimy insides of a yellow capsule across your face, Harry steps out of the shower. His towel hangs low as he walks by you. A sharp smack is delivered to your ass, and you startle. You look at him in the reflection and see his smirk as he walks away. You roll your eyes, take a deep breath, and relax your shoulders as you continue your now twenty-minute beauty routine, so you can move on to your forty-five-minute makeup routine. Your gaze holds a fiery scrutiny as you carefully apply each swipe of mascara, and your hand is more than heavy as you blend your bronzer and blush. 

Some days it’s nice to do your makeup, but sometimes it feels more like a chore, like the laundry or dishes. It’s just something you have to do to get on with the rest of your day. You almost think about skipping it, but appearances are important. You’re dating an Osborn, and with that came certain expectations, like looking nice and polished at every moment. It meant keeping a mild temper and a clean home. But for Harry, you didn’t mind doing it. 

Once you decided your makeup wouldn’t look any better by staring at it, you left the bathroom, ready to avoid your reflection for the rest of the day. When you stepped back into your room, Harry wasn’t there. He was probably planning breakfast, already dressed and ready for the day. On the bed was an outfit he laid out for you. 

He picked a mini houndstooth pencil skirt, a plunging sweetheart-neck top, and a blazer. There are some strappy heels on the floor and some jewellery laid out as well. You run your hands over the fabric, and already, you feel like you can’t breathe. Everything is tight and constricting, but you know Harry just thinks you look pretty. He loves the way your hips sway, how your legs look longer with the heels and the skirt, and how perky your boobs look in this shirt specifically. 

You put it on and look in the mirror. You twist and spin to see yourself from all angles, and you have to admit, you look great. But you also feel like you look terrible. You can feel how expensive these clothes are, and you feel like a fraud. You also feel uncomfortable. Like if you breathe too much, your stomach will expand and ruin the silhouette. That if you slouch, or sit, or move too much, it will immediately look trashy. You huff, knowing you can’t get through four and a half hours of lectures like this. 

Harry is looking out the window with a cup of coffee when you eventually come down the stairs. He turns to you with a smile, but it falls as he looks you over. You wring your hands, anxious for his response. 

“Did you not like what I picked out?” He asks with a slight pout. 

He was always careful to never show too much emotion. Something he learned in his years of modern aristocracy. Emotions could be contorted. An ill-timed smile or frown could completely destroy your reputation, which was essential to keeping your wealth. This frown could be sadness but also anger. And you hated the idea that you might have upset him. 

You hadn’t completely abandoned his outfit. You added tights and switched out the heels for some Converse. You kept the skirt and shirt but layered it with a sweater vest. You recited the excuse you had practised upstairs. 

“No, it was great! Just a little too dressy for class. But I did add this.” You flit across the floor, excited to show him the pendent on your neck. A simple gold chain with an ‘H’ hanging from it. Harry reaches forward to roll it between his fingers, and a small smile stretches across his face. “I got it Sunday. I just haven’t gotten a chance to show you yet.”

Harry taps the nail of his thumb against it a few times before asking, “Who made it?”

“Bvlgari.”

You hated the way the name fell so easily from your lips. To be completely honest, you would have rather gone to Target, or even Joanne’s to get the supplies to make it yourself. But Harry would be embarrassed to have his girl walking around in costume jewellery- in fake gold. So you went somewhere you knew he would approve of. 

His smile warmed as he let the necklace fall back into place and gave you a kiss on the cheek. “I love it.”

You said your goodbyes and headed to the elevator. When the doors opened again, you stepped into the lobby that you would feel weird saying is familiar to you now.

The chandeliers twinkle in the warm light. The ceilings are so high you wonder how they manage to dust anything. The tiled floors always gleamed enough for you to see your reflection in its odd geometric pattern. Wooden accents could be found around the room- bannisters, the bases of columns, the help desk, doorframes, etc.- were always polished. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a speck of dirt in the place, but also, you’ve never seen the cleaners. It made you better to think it was the work of elves than poor immigrants working terrible hours. 

As you made your way to the doors, a greying man in a long emerald suit jacket, complete with epaulettes, and a wide smile removed his pilot hat with gold gilding and tucked it under his arm. He reached a gloved hand towards the handle, sweeping his other hand in front of him to usher you forward. 

“Thank you, Paddy.”

The man’s smile remained wide, “Of course, Ms (L/n). Off to class?”

Paddy was one of your favourite people. He was so kind and sweet. You had never had a doorman before, but you imagined Paddy was one of a kind. He would help you with groceries and he always gave you a heads-up if Norman arrived before you did. You liked talking to him, and he would tell you all the “hot goss” in the building, though always with very formal language and odd phrases you guess is common to the average Brit.

“Yes, and I’ve told you, please call me (Y/n).”

You have been trying to get Paddy to be less formal with you for about two years now, but he refused.

“You know I won’t Ms (L/n), but I’m glad to hear it. You are our future. You’re close to graduating, no?”

Paddy stepped out onto the street to hail a cab as you continued the conversation.

“Yes, actually, this is my last year. But I’m planning on getting my master's next, then maybe a doctorate, so still lots of school in the future."

Paddy chuckled, “I look forward to calling you Dr (L/n).”

You laughed, telling him you’d never let him get away with it. He only laughed again, bidding you farewell and being sure to emphasize your last name as he opened the car door for you.

You didn’t always take a cab to campus. You took the subway from your apartment, but Harry didn’t like the idea of you alone with “all those weirdos.” You enjoyed the walk though, so you opted to have the cab take you as far as the nearest stop. That way you could still get a bit of a walk in, allowing you to stop and get some coffee and feel a little bit of normalcy. You had to admit it was nice to not have to walk in the cold. 

This December has been one of the coldest you could remember. The city looked grey between the cloudy skies and the sludge that was once white snow crowding around the gutters. The people passed you by in the windows, bundled up in scarves and hats. You couldn’t remember the last time you had worn anything more than a light jacket. Harry had a personal driver, and there was really never a need. There wasn’t much waiting in your life anymore. Every trip was direct and expedient. 

You stopped in at Cafè Luna, and upon seeing your face, a barista you knew as Shelby immediately started making your drink. You order a breakfast sandwich as well, not quite having enough time this morning to both make breakfast and get your daily latte. 

Shelby gave you your order after swiping Harry’s card and warned you that she had made your latte extra hot to fight off the cold. You thanked her, being sure to leave a tenner in the tip jar as you walked out. After a bit, you reached the crosswalk that would take you to campus. Your phone buzzed, and you precariously balanced your sandwich and your latte in one hand while digging through your bag for it. 

Peter: Did you listen to it yet?

You scrolled up on the screen to see he had sent you a link to an album from your shared favourite band: Dog Water. They were a local punk band that you both knew one day would blow up, but for now, you loved seeing them perform in dive bars and back alleys. 

You heard the melodic beep of the crosswalk sign that alerted you to cross the street. As you took steps forward, you dug for your headphones in your bag. Usually, you pulled them out in the cab, but you were distracted by the hustle and bustle of the city. As your hands searched your bag, you felt your fingers brush against the headband, but your walking jostled the tote, and they slipped further into the depths of the canvas. You huffed slightly, taking your eyes away from the street and digging your hand in deeper. 

Finally, you grabbed them and pulled them out when you heard a voice growing louder. You looked up to see a man in a suit and a long trenchcoat walking right at you while holding a seemingly heated conversation on the phone. 

“No, you listen here! I don’t care if-”

You didn’t see him in time to prevent the inevitable. He pushed past you, checked your shoulder and your latte was pushed directly into your chest, and your sandwich, with only three bites taken out of it, fell apart on the pavement. You shouted as the steamed milk and hot coffee splashed across your chest, the skin already scorched. You were frozen for a moment before you began running towards the nearest building on campus. 

You hiked up the front steps, trotted through the halls, and flung open the bathroom door. You threw your bag on the counter and immediately ripped off your sweater. You can see the redness on your throat and chest. You grab paper towels and run some cold water on them to try and soothe your skin and get off all the sticky syrup. Luckily it didn’t stain your shirt underneath due to the deep, sweetheart neckline. That’s one thing to be grateful for. 

You look at your sweater: the light blue now stained with brown splotches. And also the huge spot running down the whole front. You helplessly wipe at it, but the cashmere is too absorbent. In a huff, you throw the paper towel down on the counter. There’s no way you’re getting that out. Your best hope is a dry cleaner, though you know your second favourite sweater is probably done for- a truly devastating thought- but there’s nothing to be done about it now. 

You gather yourself, folding it up and putting it in your bag. You look at yourself in the mirror and you feel incomplete without your sweater, but again, there’s nothing to be done about it now. And you need to get to class. 

First up is Eastern Literature, a lecture that you’re not super excited about now. You hoped that today you wouldn’t be asked to discuss the reading and instead quizzed on it. Your professor liked to switch it up; that way, students had to be prepared to know the reading deeply, and you couldn’t just rely on adding commentary to others’ analyses. 

Then you have Gender Woman Studies. It’s a fun elective taught by a Non-Binary person who is also a therapist and currently writing a book about kinks in the black community and how they are differently stigmatized. They were cool as fuck, and you loved listening to them and the discussions that would evolve from the topics presented. 

Then you had Forensic Anthropology with the one and only Peter Parker. He needed another Humanities credit and you needed a science, so you both decided it was worth it. You were pleasantly surprised with the course matter, as it interested both of you in different ways. Peter was always more focused on the science parts, while you were exceptional with the theories and their impacts. Together, you guys wrote the best papers in the class, bar none. 

Tag List: @actuallypeterparker, @andrews-lovr, @barbecuetiddy @cherriescherriesred25, @heejinw0rld, @ilovemoonknight, @Isshecrazyorissheclever, @negasonic-teenage-asshole, @preciousbabypeter, @princesskittycatofmeowland, @purple-amaranthe, @raajali3, @rudy-the-winged-wolf, @scorpiolystoned, @supernerdycookietrashblr, @tayswiftlovebot, @wannapizzamymindposts, @whoreforklitz

[kitkatrix]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @jazwritesalot. Thank you! 🥹🫶

1. How many works do you have on A03? 120!!

2. What's your total Ao3 word count? 497,454. I have over 25k I haven't posted on A03 though so tack that on and I'm looking at roughly 520k in total.

3. What fandoms do you write for? I currently write for BNHA/ MHA. I used to write for Durarara, HP, Fruits Basket but that was a looooong time ago when I was in my teens lol

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? Fair warning: most of them are NSFW. 1) Take a Bite of Me, 2) Another Day, Another F*ck, 3) more than a learning curve, 4) Need Your Touch, 5) Wrong Size

5. Do you respond to comments? I try to, but I get extremely lazy after a bit and then months later, I respond.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? It would have to be my MCD KRBK fic that I never posted on AO3. It's on Twitter in full but both of them end up dying in the end, one earlier than the other.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Almost all my fics have a happy ending but the happiest one I have thus far is "more than a learning curve". It's completely self indulgent so I wanted it to end in a cute way 🥺

8. Do you get hate on fics? I've only thankfully gotten it once and it was on a collaboration fic. I don't let that stuff bother me though 💜

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Absolutely. Almost 3/4 of my fics on AO3 and Twitter are explicit. I have the most fun writing them.

10. Do you write crossovers? Nope. I don't watch/read enough or have enough creativity to do something like that.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Once. I was very young and found it when searching for my fic title online. It was under a different name and everything. I was so upset that I deleted the fic on my end and stopped completely.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nada. But I would be over the moon if it ever happened. I would need to give approval first before anything, though. I don't want to come across it one day and nothing was said to me, y'know?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes! I've done several actually. Some haven't ever been posted publicly but I have a few on AO3 like "Challenge Accepted" and "Pain and Pleasure" that I did with some mutuals on Twitter. It was very fun and I adore doing it 🥰

14. What's your all time favorite ship? KiriBaku! They have my heart in a chokehold. I'm trying to get into others from different fandoms but this one is hard to top.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Hidden Behind a Whisper. I loved loved writing this one when I started and I do go and add some from time to time but I've lost half the motivation I had when I first began. It's sad 😭

16. What are your writing strengths? Dialogue and action scenes. The way I write is like imagining a movie scene, and I write each movement someone makes and go from there. In example, Kirishima putting a hand around Bakugou's waist, Izuku kissing Ochako's forehead, things like that.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Repetitiveness. I tend to say the same thing over and over and have to copy paste my document into a website to see which words are used more than they should. Half the time it's either "that", "just", or "but".

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? If you feel it would add more to your story, speak to someone that knows and is fluent in that language and can read over the dialogue to be sure it is correct. Do NOT use Google translate. It's hardly accurate and a terrible source for translation.

19. First fandom you wrote for? HP. It was a Dramione fic and I was I think 14? It's still up online to this day 💀

20. Favorite fic you've written? "more than a learning curve" if we're talking mildly mature. "Need Your Touch" for Explicit.

I tag whoever sees this and would like to participate! 🫶🫶

[themculibrary]

Nebula/Peter Quill Masterlist

cold heart, warm gun, a dying sun (bright eyes, black soul, she’ll never let you go) (ao3) - Cesar Nebula/Peter Quill M, 500

Summary: Peter Quill is just so beautiful when he’s broken.

dog days (ao3) - richiekate Nebula/Peter Quill T, 1k

 Summary: peter is a wreck, but what's new. nebula's there too, to pick up his broken pieces and tack them together like paper mache with her clumsy hands, so unused to being tender. but there's something gentle, now, between the two of them. it makes peter's confused heart sing and nebula's brain scramble, desperate to come up with a reason for this newfound fondness towards the man she's now starting to think of as her mess.

Downtime (ao3) - EthanTheAnnus Nebula/Peter Quill T, 500

Summary: “You’re leaving.” It’s not a question. “Did you get the ship back together?” It’s not an answer. “Rocket repaired the ship.” Nebula stares him down, unrelenting. “But you’re leaving, aren’t you?” “Mantis was right,” Peter says, shutting the cupboard with a harsh thud. “I keep running, and I never even thought of going back. I think it’s time that I did.” -OR- Canon compliant. Peter and Nebula get a moment somewhere after they win, but before the final few scenes of the movie. GOTG VOL 3 SPOILERS!

Hooked on a…feeling? (ao3) - missingcrowdsof1000s Nebula/Peter Quill   T, 1k

Summary: An exploration into Nebula’s changing perspective towards the leader of the Guardians.

It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round (ao3) - Aprylx Nebula/Peter Quill G, 1k

Summary: *** GUARDIANS 3 SPOILERS!! *** 'His voice was low and crackled, all life was lost from it, his eyes were dead, almost like the once vibrant green had faded.' or, The ending of Guardians but it went wrong.

Just a Replacement (ao3) - cozyreinsfw Nebula/Peter Quill G, 100

Summary: Peter tries to replace Gamora.

Just Us, Just Maybe (ao3) - MysteryWriter2187 Nebula/Peter Quill T, 2k

Summary: After waking up in bed with an unexpected - but not necessarily unwanted - companion, Nebula grapples with her complicated emotions about this intimate encounter, and the potential future it may hold. Post-GOTG3 one-shot. Quebula (Quill/Nebula) mostly fluff.

Left alone with your memories (ao3) - Aprylx Nebula/Peter Quill G, 1k

Summary: *SPOLIERS FOR GUARDIANS VOL. 3!!!* Nebula takes care of Peter after he yet again harms himself with his drinking habits.

Love Jones (ao3) - rockstar_flannel Nebula/Peter Quill E, 12k

Summary: After Nebula discovers she has feelings for Quill, she seeks out answers about this strange feeling, only to end up with more questions. So, she goes to Quill to, just maybe, feel better about herself.

Otalgia (ao3) - MantisandtheMoonDragon Nebula/Peter Quill Not Rated, 4k

Summary: Soulmate AU: Nebula hears music, always. And it’s the same old songs, always; Or The Actual Weirdest Pairing That Makes No Sense, AKA Peter x Nebula

Rewrite the Stars (ao3) - The_Ultimate_Faker Nebula/Peter Quill T, 2k

Summary: (Post GotG3) Nebula comes to terms with some emotions she has towards her fellow Guardian, Peter Quill, while taking care of his drunken self. Though she may try to avoid emotions, it was inevitable that she would have to confront them eventually.

She's Not Gamora But That's Okay (ao3) - cozyreinsfw Nebula/Peter Quill T, 2k

Summary: Peter struggles to get over Gamora and Nebula starts to take care of him when he starts to get too drunk to function.

She says, I'm not like that (ao3) - Aprylx Nebula/Peter Quill G, 600

Summary: *** SPOILERS FOR GUARDIANS VOL. 3 *** "She blinked and the last of her tears left her eyes, leaving small stains on her face, he lifted his hand and swiped them off." Or what if Peter and Nebula actually got a goodbye scene together.

Slow Dancing (ao3) - cozyreinsfw Nebula/Peter Quill G, 300

Summary: In an effort to help Nebula relax, Peter pulls her into a slow dance.

The dog days are over (ao3) - just_a_pineapple Nebula/Peter Quill T, 2k

Summary: A fluffy fic about Nebula and Peter set a year after the ending of Guardians of the Galaxy Vol.3.

this time that we waste, but i still love your taste (ao3) - TheCupcakeElemental Nebula/Peter Quill T, 600

Summary: Nebula takes care of Peter after yet another night of heavy drinking.

[definitelynotapossum]

Dusty Saddles and Muddy Boots

This is only part of the fic. You can read the full, explicit fic on my ao3!

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Hyrule's vast plateaus, treacherous mountains, shimmering lakes, and dense forests were nothing short of breathtaking. Each morning, when the sun rose, painting the land in brilliant gold and tawny hues, and when the birds would wake from their slumber, chittering elaborate love songs, Link would take a moment to simply breathe.

He would take in the sights, sounds, and smells that made him feel at home no matter where he was, whether atop Death Mountain in the scorching heat or in the calm, cool water pools of Zora Domain.

Zelda was much the same, but now she tried to immerse herself in Hyrule's diverse nature more than ever. Having been cooped up in the castle for much of her childhood, and even in her teenage years, made her yearn for freedom, and to go where she pleased. Now, a hundred years later, she had it. She had that freedom, and that idea scared her.

She hadn't the slightest idea how she should go about it. How does one get in touch with the vast expanse of land that is Hyrule? She had Hylia's blood for heaven's sake, so it should come naturally, yet it evaded her. She had tried. Oh, she really did. She went for a walk one morning through some of the thick underbrush of the woods and spent a week covered in poison ivy blisters. Another time she had tried to study some local flora, and disturbed an enormous hornet's nest. She ran in circles around the woods screaming until she bolted back to Link's house, slammed the door behind her, and decidedly declared that she would be staying inside for the rest of the week.

Link had found her attempts endearing, and a bit humorous, but he was determined to let her have her fun. So, one early morning in Hateno, while the dew still clung to the grass, he brushed, fed, and tacked both of their horses, then tied them up out front, where Zelda was curiously watching.

She walked over to stroke her horse's nose and run her fingers through his blonde mane. "There's a good boy." She turned to look at her knight. "Link, where are we heading to this early in the day?" 

Link was busy tying some sleeping mats and canvas rolls to his steed's saddle, along with their large travel tent, and pillows. "Wherever you'd like, princess. We're taking a vacation."

Her ears twitched as she tried to contain her excitement, and play it cool. "Oh? First I've heard of it."

"It's a surprise of sorts. You've been dying to get out and explore Hyrule, so we're doing just that." He gave his mount a pat on the neck, and a puff of dust rose up, making him cough. "Epona, you need a bath." He muttered, then turned to Zelda, who was now smiling warmly. "Grab anything you want to bring from the house. We'll be gone for a while. Oh, and I already tied your sleeping mat to Blanc's saddle" He said, walking over to the white stallion, and giving him the same pat on the neck. No dust, thankfully.

Touched by the gesture, Zelda rushed up to him, wrapping him up in a bone-cracking hug, in which she ignored Link wheezing out "Sweet Hylia, Zel… I can't breathe…" She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before letting him go. He sucked in a lungful of air, now free of Zelda's vice grip. "You are truly the sweetest man I've ever known." Hardly able to contain herself, she gave him two more kisses, one on the opposite cheek, and one on the tip of his nose. "I'll go get my things." She practically bolted inside the door of the house, eager to pack up and leave, leaving a blushing, starstruck Link in the front yard. 

They were on the trail by the next hour, heading for Lake Hylia. Zelda had suggested they do some lakeside stargazing, before circling the large body of water and heading into Faron Woods. They still had yet to come up with a solid travel plan, but there was no rush. They had all the time in the world to spare, and they could simply make adjustments as they pleased.

They were halfway to the lake when they stopped to give the horses a much-needed break. Zelda removed the bridle from Blanc, and he opened his mouth wide, stretching his facial muscles. "We don't want to run them ragged, or we'll never make it." Zelda said, bringing a small wooden bowl full of water to Blanc's lips. He finished the entire thing in no time, then joined Epona, munching on tall, juicy stalks of grass in the field. 

Zelda laid the bridle on top of their bags and grabbed her rolled-up blanket, laying it out over the softest patch of grass she could find, before plopping down onto her back, gazing up at the few clouds that traveled the sky. "I could just sit here and stare for hours, Link. We haven't even made it halfway through our first day." She giggled.

It was a sound that made Link's heart run in circles. "You'll see plenty more, Princess, I promise. I know the entirety of Hyrule like the back of my hand." He joined her on the blanket, sitting up with his head on his knees, looking out at their horses, grazing to their heart's content.

"With how much you ventured, I don't see how you couldn't. You've seen so much. All of Hyrule is so gorgeous, I can't imagine a place you didn't like."

Link frowned as he thought about that crazy flower lady who looked like she was going to throttle him for stepping on her precious flora. He didn't want to spoil Zelda's happiness. "Not really… It's all pretty nice." The smile on her face made it all worth it to Link. What he'd give to see that every day, so they sat in the field, talking to their heart's content until the sun began to dip low in the horizon.

They made it to Lake Hylia a few hours later. Zelda had wanted to set up the tent for them since she was in need of practice, and she wanted Link to go ahead and bathe in the lake since he had smelled like a dusty horse for most of the day. "And for the love of Hylia, take Epona with you. I just watched her roll in a mud puddle." She said, pointing at his steed, who covered head to hoof in brown, yucky muck.

Link screeched, and ran to snatch his horse out of the wallow, waving his arms at her frantically. "I haven't even taken her saddle off! Epona, no! No!" Zelda was laughing until she was breathless, watching him try to yank his unbothered horse out of her cool, and refreshing mud puddle. Link too found himself in the sloppy drink when she pulled her head back and dragged him in with her. 

Zelda sucked in a long breath, almost on the verge of tears. "Oh, dear. Now he really needs one. Both of them do." Blanc trotted over, eyeing the two in the mud, then nickering low at Zelda, and she gave him a sweet kiss on his forehead. "Don't worry, my sweet boy, you're still as fresh as daisies." He whinnied warmly.

Link finally managed to pull Epona out and away from the puddle, and led her to the water. He had found a secluded spot, surrounded by dense bushes, and a large tree, where he could strip down and wash them both clean. He undid her saddle, which was now absolutely caked in mud and clay. "This is your good saddle too…" His clothes were the same way, though he didn't mourn them as much. They were nothing but simple hiking clothes and roughed-up boots. With a drawn-out sigh, he kicked the clothes aside, and led his horse, by her reins, to the crystal clear waters of Lake Hylia. Link shivered when he took his first step in, and Epona grunted in displeasure. "You wanted to roll around in the mud, now get in here." He punctuated with a tug, and she begrudgingly waded in, splashing at the water with her hoof. They didn't stop until Epona was submerged up to her neck, and now she was closing her eyes in contentment and pleasure. Link was swimming to stay afloat, ducking under to rinse his hair clean. When he came up, he splashed water at his horse's face, knocking off most of the dried mud, and she glared at him in displeasure.

They waded for a while until their ears perked up at the sound of footsteps approaching them. Zelda walked to the edge with a towel, and a change of clothes in hand, and she saw the two of them soaking in the waters. Link only had the top half of his head about the water, eyeing Zelda with a curious look, and his ears twitched slightly. "Hello!" 

Epona exited the water to greet her, shaking herself off in a great spray of water that Zelda shielded the dry clothes from. "Hello, you two. I've brought a towel, and your night clothes." She said, laying them by the tree. She patted Epona on the neck before she pranced off to join Blanc in the field, leaving Zelda and Link alone. "Good to see you're both no longer painted brown." She chuckled.

Link rolled his eyes. "She'll be dirty again by tomorrow morning, probably. It's like she detests being clean. At least she's not bright white like Blanc."

"Oh, she probably will be. You two are just alike, you know. It's cute." As much as she wanted to sit and talk, she had to admit that she had begun to smell like a horse too, a smell she wasn't all too fond of. Not on her, at least. She clapped her hands together. "Alright, my turn. Out of the water with you, then."

Link sighed, and, instead of getting out, pushed himself out further into the water with a splash. "Yeah, but I kinda like it here. Might just stay. You're clean as it is, and you weren't the one covered in mud."

"I'm all sweaty from putting up your tent."

"Our tent."

"I smell like a horse."

"A clean horse."

She huffed with her hands on her hips. "Out with you."

"Hmm… nah." He splashed some water in her direction.

Zelda dodged the small spray that managed to reach her, and she sighed. "No, huh?"

"Nope." Link closed his eyes and sunk back into the water.

Zelda smirked, and began to step up to the water's edge, the edges of her shirt in hand. "Alright, Hero, have it your way." With one swift motion, she pulled the fabric off her body, and dropped it to the earth, leaving her in her pants and boots.

Link, hearing the ruffling of cloth, squinted his eyes open momentarily before practically choking on a gasp, then turning around. "Zelda!" He yelped, ears flushed red.

She unclipped her boots and kicked them off, one nearly landing in the water. "What? I'm taking my bath now, so you'd better move it." She undid her belt and allowed her pants to fall as well before toeing out of them. "Or you can stay right there, your choice." She said, and the sound of the final piece of clothing falling to the ground made Link's heart nearly stop.

"Alright! Alright! I'm getting out!" Link's ears, as well as the rest of his face, were now flushed red as he jumped out of the water, making Zelda cover her eyes, biting down on her lip as she tried not to cackle, and he headed for his towel, sighing at the warm, plush cotton enveloping his body. "Goddesses… Can't wait a moment can you?" He said, still turned away from the water.

She was now floating on her back, eyes shut, while the ends of her short blonde hair were floating up in the water. The water felt so cool and revitalizing, and she let out a groan as her muscles loosened. "Hmm, stay out here any longer and you'll get a sunburn, you know. Better head back." She said, ignoring his mocking.

Link was ruffling his hair dry with the towel, and he came out of it looking like some spiky-feathered baby bird. He tossed it around a low-hanging branch and began to dress in his soft night attire. "I'm gonna serve you charcoal for dinner. Making me leave my nice comfy bath." Zelda only giggled, and Link left to set up supper.

The first stars of dusk were just beginning to pop up in the sky by the time Zelda was done bathing. The water had started to cool to the point where she was getting goosebumps, so she decided it was time to get out and see how far Link had gotten with their dinner. Zelda found him setting up some plates on a blanket in the grass, where they could gaze at the stars as they began to slowly fade into view in the sky. The smell of freshly cooked mushroom skewers and pork on rice drifted around her, and it smelled lovely, enough to make her stomach gurgle. When she got there, she also saw he had made fruit cake as well. "You remembered it's my favorite!"

"I'd never forget, Zel. You hardly ate anything else for dessert." He chuckled, and Zelda held that beautiful, fluttering sound close to her heart. She got closer, and quickly ruffled his hair, then smoothed it down, and he gave her a confused look. 

"It's still all spikey from the water." She smiled. 

The food that Link cooked rivaled that of the royal cooks in the castle a hundred years ago, and Zelda wondered why the hell her father didn't make him the head chef instead of her personal knight. She couldn't complain, but all those delicious dinners, lunches, and desserts he could cook just made him all the more admirable.

Both of them had been hungry, and most of the food was quickly scarfed down, along with the fruit cake, which Link was able to grab a small piece for himself before she consumed it.

Now, full and happy, they both lay back on the blanket, looking up at the sky. Zelda let out a small, undignified burp, and Link chuckled, happy to see her losing some of her formality in his presence. They gazed up into the obsidian sky above, watching the stars twinkle their hellos as the final, dimmest stars appeared in the sky, and Link listened intently as Zelda began to point out and list the planets in the sky above them. 

A sudden, faint memory rose at the back of Link's mind. "Remember the constellations you showed me before? In the castle gardens?" He wasn't all too familiar with the constellations, but he remembered being out in the gardens one night with Zelda, listening to her name each of the patterns in the sky, and pairing them with strange, and magical stories. When he looked up, he saw only stars, dotting the sky with their beauty and wonder, and he pointed to a small cluster above them. "Anything up there that you know of?"

Zelda pointed up too, tracing out a pattern in the sky. "Talios, the great bull. His story says that he ran nonstop across the land for ten years searching for his son, Letrus, who is… right over there, to his right." She pointed out another to the left. "Oh, and Septera, the serpent. That's one of the largest constellations in our sky!"

Her knowledge of these little things made Link smile happily. He was no longer looking up, but he had rolled into his side, watching Zelda point and chatter happily about the stars in the sky. Before the calamity, she had been much the same, filling up those silent moments with her knowledge of absolutely everything, and Link was relieved to see that she had not changed one bit. She was the holder of the Triforce of Wisdom, after all.

She kept on for a moment until she glanced over and saw him watching her with a smile on his face. "There's also the rabbit, Lepus, and I think over there is- what? What are you smiling at?" She blushed.

"You. You seem happy to be out here. Like, truly happy."

She glanced away, wondering if it was possible to get any redder. "It beats sitting cooped up in Hyrule Castle, only able to read books about how gorgeous the land is. It's nice to be able to see it without having something on my shoulders for once." Zelda rolled onto her side too, mirroring him. They were now so close that their body heat seemed to warm the small space between them, that or the heat from their constant blushing. Zelda got lost in those deep cerulean eyes of his before she cleared her throat and spoke. "Link? Thank you for, well, all of this. You have no idea how much this means to me. It's more than I could ever ask for."

"You're welcome, Princess. This won't be the only time, I assure you."

"Truly?!" She squeaked.

"Without a doubt." Link's ears twitched slightly as a low rumble made the crickets in the grass go silent, glancing up, he saw the stars on the horizon begin to disappear behind a dark curtain of clouds. Rain was on its way. "Ah. So much for stargazing. Sorry, Zel."

A cool breeze washed over them, chilling the air, and Zelda hugged her arms together for warmth. "We'll have more chances for stargazing, don't worry. I think this was a fabulous first night." She shivered slightly. "Oh, it is getting colder. We'll both need our heavy blankets by midnight."

Something instinctive began to run through him, something protective, yet loving. Without thinking, and running purely on a joyful high, Link languidly extended his arms, moving himself a bit closer to Zelda, and began to curl himself around her, searching for any sign of discomfort. The last thing he wanted was to make her dream trip uncomfortable. 

Zelda was a little startled by the sudden gesture, but that warm and comforting aura surrounding Link was all too inviting, and she quickly scooted right up to him, nudging her head under his chin, and wrapping her arms around his torso, letting out a heavy, content sigh. "Thank you. I was starting to shiver."

"Anytime, Princess." Both of them closed their eyes, and the tension in their bodies faded as they melted into each other. Link reached up behind her and placed a hand in her hair, scratching slightly at her scalp, and she let out a pleased groan. Her hair felt like silk to him, so fluffy and soft, and he momentarily wondered if that was the reason all his shampoo at the house had been running empty twice as fast. 

Zelda looked up at him. "Yeah. Yeah. I've been using your stuff. I can't help it, it smells nice." Link just huffed a small laugh as he gazed at her, and saw she was looking intently. His ears twitched in question, and Zelda answered. "Your eyes are the most gorgeous blue. I've never seen anything like it." She admitted.

Oh, how he loved hearing that from her. "And yours the most beautiful green, Princess." Link kept his gaze fixed, then let out a little hum of wonder.

Zelda questioned what had him transfixed. "Hmm?" 

"Your eyes… if you look closely enough, they're blue too. Just around the middle, like turquoise."

"Oh wow, I thought I was the only one who noticed. You… are the first to come close enough to find out, I guess." Her voice got quieter to the point where she could hear her heartbeat in her ears. "Careful, look any deeper and you might start reading my thoughts."

Whatever space was left between them, Link began to close in on, scooting forward until their bodies were pressed together. "Yeah? And what would they be saying?"

She broke their held gazes for a moment, looking mildly somber. "That we might be in over our heads."

"But we're happy." Link breathed, and inched ever so closer, eyes darting down to Zelda's lips, and back. "Finally happy, right?"

Zelda felt their fingers interlace. His hands were callused, worn from use, yet so gentle. "More so than I've ever been, Link." He just gave her a content smile and a silent moment lingered between them, before Zelda rolled her eyes, having had enough. "Oh, c'mere you-" She reached around, and with a swift tug to his scruffy hair, brought them crashing together, and all their concerns faded in a rush of euphoria and they both thought to themselves "Goddesses, finally…"

Link cupped her face in his hands, and kept her close, terrified that if he lost her, he would wake up from some cruel dream, and she'd be gone. Zelda wanted him to hold on, for the same anxiety-driven reason. She would tell herself over and over, in the late hours of the night, she'd do it all again if it was all for him. She let out a quiet moan that spurred him on all the more, and he let his tongue barely cross her lips before he pulled back, watching her breath heavy. "Easy, Zel, we've got all night."

Zelda suddenly sat up, and he tried to do the same, before she placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back to the ground so she could jump on top of him, and straddle him. "That we do." She breathed before pressing her lips back into his, and he groaned loudly. Zelda was positive she felt her heart skip several beats.

She began to kiss him on every spot she could manage, placing feather light pecks down his jaw, the column of his throat, and pushing his tunic down ever so slightly to reach his collarbone, where she began to leave marks with heated, open-mouthed kisses. Link could hardly take it, practically a groaning, panting mess by the time she had left a second mark, sure to bruise in beautiful violet shades. He breathed shakily, "Zelda-!" and she pulled back, smiling at how disheveled he looked at that moment.

The marks on his neck were just turning a deeper shade, and his hair was tousled, the band keeping his little ponytail in place long since fallen out, letting his blonde hair float free. Zelda was just about to make a smug comment about it before she was abruptly cut off by the feeling of something moving slightly between her thighs. Link suddenly blushed furiously, his whole face, and ears, turning crimson. "Uh…" She almost didn't realize she was holding her breath, amazed at the effect she alone had on him. Oh, how the night was going to turn in a whole new direction. Zelda gave him a shit-eating grin, and snickered lowly, making Link more turned on than he ever had been in his life. "Sweet Hylia." He covered his face with his hands, unsure of how long he was going to last if this kept up.

Zelda bent down, ready to kiss him senseless again, but something cold and wet suddenly hit her nose: a little water droplet, which dripped off the tip of her nose, and onto Link's tunic, and they both looked up at the sky, which was now completely overcast with dark gray rain clouds. 

"Oh no…" Their ears both pricked as the distinct sound of the pitter-patter of a rain curtain crossing the lake kept getting louder and louder, and they froze as they both realized that it was about to start pouring. "Shit!" Zelda scrambled off of Link, who was still doing his best to not completely lose his mind, and they rushed to gather all their plates, and the blanket before they got soaked.

Zelda tried to stack the plates in her hands and carry them all at once. She dropped two of them and fought to keep her balance. She barely kept from dropping one more. "The blanket… the blanket, Link!" The rain had already reached them at this point, and Link was doing his best not to drag it in the dirt. He flinched as he heard something else crack behind him, and he eyed Zelda. "Sorry!" She yelped.

Blanc and Epona were watching their riders panic from a distance, nestled underneath a large, dense-leafed oak tree, and Epona nickered slightly as the sound of the rain lulled them both to sleep. Zelda and Link, on the other hand, were not having such a peaceful experience.

"Shit. Shit! Shit, shit, shit-! They gave up and ditched the blanket, now making a run for their warm, sheltered tent, as it continued to rain down, with no sign of stopping. It was a crazed experience, and halfway to their tent, they began to burst out in disbelieved laughter, and Link nearly tripped, making Zelda snort.

They burst into the tent, sending water flying. They were drenched and disheveled, and they took a glance at each other before descending into laughter again, breaking through the sound of the rain on the fabric of their tent. Zelda ran a hand through her soaked hair. "Well, we almost had a romantic evening."

"It's never a normal day with us, is it?" Link added, as he wrung the water out of his shirt, which hardly did anything.

"Well, at least it's not boring, hmm? She shook her hair, which was now curling up at the humidity, and Link laughed as he got sprayed. She kicked off her mud-laden boots into the corner, then walked over to Link, who was about to rid himself of his shirt.

She pushed his hands up, and grabbed the edges of his shirt, tugging it slightly. "Now, where were we?" Link smiled and gave her a quick kiss before she pulled up, and took the soaked garment off of him. Free of his tunic, he too shook his head, discomforted by his wet hair, and Zelda shielded herself and squeaked as he sent water droplets in every direction. "Link!" Link just giggled shyly.

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This is the end of this part! See my ao3 for the full fic!