#hey ao3 writers? GET TO FUCKING WORK ON SOME GOOD ASS FICS CAUSE LAST I CHECKED THERE WERE LIKE THREE

[acapelladitty]

Hey Ditty, I have been having thoughts about Query and Echo either taking turns with or simultaneously dicking down the Riddler. If you could write about it I'd be so happy

Also you're an amazing writer and ily

Flattery will get you EVERYWHERE on this blog 👀💦😈

rock and a hard place

Summary: Query and Echo take some time to show Edward just how good their joint partnership can be.

(warnings for: dom/sub dynamics, mff threesome, strap ons, oral sex (f receiving), teasing, drug mention, anal fingering, anal sex (m receiving), praise kink)

Fic Masterlist ☆ Link To AO3

Their veins all thrumming with a delightful mixture of scotch and coke, Query and Echo stared down at their boss as he knelt at their feet with his face pointed towards submissively the ground.

"I don't know, Echo. Do you think he deserves our attention?" Query asked, her blonde hair pushed behind her ears as she balanced her head on Echo's shoulder.

"Oh, I'm sure Edward knows how to be a good boy for us. He always does."

Pulling her foot from the floor, Echo used it to push Edward's chin up and force him to look at the pair of them as his naked frame shivered at the light touch.

"Will you be good for us?" She asked and recieved an immediate nod, pained arousal having robbed Edward of his words as he played the familiar game. "Then go be a good little genius and bring us over our toys." She paused. "Both of them."

Scrambling to his feet, Edward moved with enthusiasm as he shamelessly delved into the lowest drawer of their dresser and pulled free the matching straps - both hosting a matching green dildo which jutted proudly from the material and sat at about six inches long. In an instant, he was back, presenting both straps to the women as they took them with a smile.

"Good boy." Query offered, dropping her strap to the bed as she helped Echo tighten the straps which held her own to her lithe frame. "Maybe if you do as we say, we'll both use them on you at the same time."

Edward dropped his head at the demand, his slack lips wrapping around the smooth end of the dildo as he accepted it into his mouth like a prayer. His tongue set to work rapidly, rolling across the hard plastic as he worked it as he would a real cock.

Spreading her thighs as she sat on the edge of the bed, Echo beckoned Edward forward with a firm finger and grinned at how quickly he moved to kneel before her. She wrapped her hand in his firey hair, messing up his coiffed hairstyle as she gently petted at him like a dog. "Now, suck."

"Nice and wet, Eddie, cause I'm going to fuck you with it while Query decides what she wants to do with the rest of you."

Thrusting into his mouth slightly, Echo sighed as Edward choked on the unexpected inches - his mouth pulling free as he shot her an irritated look which made her smirk.

"If you get to fuck him," Query interrupted, "then I want to put that smart fucking mouth of his to good use."

Tapping Echo on the shoulder, she inclined her to move but not before stealing a filthy kiss as Echo stood to her full height.

"Thanks, baby."

Taking Echo's position as Edward remained on all fours between her thighs, Query tapped his cheek with her pointer finger as she spoke.

"Boss or not, you're going to eat me like I was your last meal in this shithole of a city. If you're good enough then maybe I'll even ask Echo to let you come. But if you're being a little bitch about it and moaning about things like needing to breathe then I'll tell her to be mean."

"Understood." Edward huffed, his smug voice breathy with need, but his expression was quick to twist into an open wince as Echo thrust two of her lube-coated fingers into his unprepared ass.

"Manners, boss." Echo demanded, twisting her fingers within his hole as she brought her free hand down on his ass in a solid strike. "Try again."

"Understood, Mistress."

The title was given with a smile, Edward's incorrigible brattiness always quick to make itself know, and Query met him with a smile of her own as her hand wound its way into his red hair.

"Now, eat."

Pulling him forward the few inches that separated him from her cunt, Query sighed as he immediately set to work on pleasing her. Already damp from their set-up, Edward was quick to lap at the arousal which coated her hole as she shuddered at his enthusiasm. His fine nose ground itself against her clit as he delved between her folds, tongue and lips making easy work of her cunt.

Shuddering, Query petted his head. "Good boy, Eddie. Echo, give him some more for trying his best." She purred.

Inserting a third finger into Edward's flexing ass got the desired result as he audibly moaned at the added stretch. His pale back arching as he pushed back greedily into Echo's fingers, Edward's cock bobbed heavily against his stomach with every slight thrust.

"Now," gripping Edward's hair as she widened her legs even further, Query pushed her blonde hair over her shoulder with her other hand, "you're going to keep eating me out like a champ and Echo is going to fuck you until that big brain of yours is mush. Then maybe we'll swap. Or maybe we'll let you fuck one of us. Or maybe we'll both spread you wide and see how much of us you can fit at the same time."

Edward groaned, the sound vibrating delightfully against Query's cunt as Echo pressed the flared head of her strap inside his ass, her fingers having opened him enough to allow for a smooth entry. His back arched high, a follow-up noise somewhere between delight and discomfort slipping free of his slackened lips as she slowly pushed herself forward - allowing him to feel every unyielding inch of the strap until the base pressed flush against his ass.

"Fuck, Echo." Edward hissed out, his mouth glistening in the low light of the room as he licked at his lips. "It's too big."

"No it isn't, you big bitch." Trailing her sharp nails down his back, Echo admired the red lines which immediately welted across his skin. "You've taken bigger with less prep so I want to see you pushing back to take everything I have."

Falling deeper into his role with a muted whimper, Edward could only nod and accept that his girls were going to use him in the way they knew he needed.

[all-or-nothing-baby]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

@slytherkins and @shealynn88 my loves, thank you both muchly for my tags! it may have taken me 6months (+?!) to get to this... but LET'S GO! lol.

(okay i'm a proper rebel me so i'm picking my FAVES FROM 5 FANDOMS instead bc nobody can stop meeeeeee mwuhahaha!)

NOTE: if you're going to read any of these fics, firstly tysm ily <3. secondly and most importantly, PLS CHECK THE REST OF THE TAGS ON AO3 AS I'VE ONLY LISTED A SELECT FEW HERE.

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1. STRANGER THINGS (Harringrove)

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HOUNDS OF LOVE (Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Canon Universe, Past Underage, Angst, Semi-public Sex, Porn with Love, POV Billy, 2282, EXPLICIT)

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Billy has always been a coward. Ever since—ever since Her. Since she did the double-up on him. Since she switched off and let her light go out of his life forever by taking off and leaving Billy Boy Blue's sorry ass behind.

Harrington doesn’t know any of this though. Nobody does. Nobody will. And nobody should anyways because Billy, he shouldn't be so pathetic. He’s supposed to suck it up and shut the fuck up not moon over it, not be a little pussy while he's getting his boy-pussy railed. And he certainly shouldn't be moaning through this feral fucking need of his like some frilly pink-pantied cheerleader, hell.

Never did know what was good for you, boy.

OR

Billy just wants to get royally fucked.

Doesn't want this. Doesn't want to be coddled. Doesn't want to be treated nice. Doesn't want some rich boy's dumb lovin'.

Even if he actually, really does.

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CHERRY BOMB SERIES (Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Canon Universe, Pining, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Getting Together, POV Steve Harrington, Teen-Explicit)

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A collection of Harringrove fics which hopefully read well as stand-alones BUT will also eventually—and are intended to—make up one big Steve Harrington POV 'Five times Steve wonders... & One Time He Doesn't Have To' Getting Together story.

EDIT: Now with an added little interlude in the middle which will bump up the final number of works.

Updates as and when xp

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2. SUPERNATURAL (deancas)

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THE LAST TIME (Castiel/Dean Winchester, AU—Modern Setting, Sex-work, Not Really Non-requited, POV Dean, 2269, MATURE)

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Hey, baby. Wanna spend the night with an angel?

No such thing, Dean had tried. But it had come out as a question, a challenge. An almost Prove me wrong... please? And with a smile which he couldn't have helped if he'd tried.

OR

Hurt/Comfort Modern Sex Worker AU where maybe fate and free will can exist side by side.

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WET EARTH'S CALLED MUD (Castiel/Dean Winchester, Canon Divergence, Angst, First Kiss, Getting Together, POV Dean, 1905, TEEN)

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Dean, I've got you

And I realise: he always has me.

Sheet and fork lightning fires up the whole sky and thunder cracks its huge whip above us, clouds bursting like huge water balloons, the downpour soaking us in seconds.

Everything is terrifying.

OR

Fix-It-Fic for Jack in the Box WHERE THEY ACTUALLY TALK DAMMIT. And maybe do the thing they should've been doing for 11 bloody years.

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THE DAY THE WORLD WENT AWAY (Castiel/Dean Winchester, Endverse AU, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending (as much as endverse can be), POV Dean, Porn with Love, 7346, EXPLICIT)

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Dean had come to apologise. To thank Cas. But pieces of Cas' broken heart were now on show, stabbing right through his beautiful face, slicing through Jimmy's muscles and skin. Dean could see it all now, pouring out through the jagged cuts; fear, shame, all the hurt—the lion's share of it of which Dean himself had caused. Cas was now wearing his pain on full display all over his body, like a shiny fucking outfit of the day.

Dean had never hated himself more. Even after torturing an endless stream of once-human souls in hell.

Cas let the pistol drop to the floor.

"Then what, Dean?" he choked, "why are you here?" His wet eyes searched Dean's with such wretched frustration, Dean couldn't take it a second longer. Had to make it go away, end the pain. Ironically, Dean realised, he did want to make everything stop for Cas—for both of them—even if only for a little while. Just not by means of a bullet.

How the hell do you make the whole world just stop?

OR

Quite possibly the only not-completely-100%-gut-wrenching Endverse fic you might ever find.

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THURSDAY'S SMILE (Canon Universe, First Kiss, Getting Together, Proof I Can Write Fluff, POV Dean, 1381, TEEN)

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Cas walked around the stainless steel kitchen island to Dean's side, his eyes now keen on the square of dressing protecting a nasty cut on the left side of Dean's forehead. As he reached his destination, his right knee automatically slid between Dean's knees to part them, allowing him to stand in between—and closer to Dean. Like, a lot closer.

Dean tried his best to take a slow and secret, calming deep breath.

It didn't help. Now his sense of smell was just reaffirming what his heart was already screaming at him with each beat:

CAS-CAS, YES-YES, CAS-CAS, YES-YES

Cas peeled back the surgical tape and lifted the gauze to check the cut.

And then it just kind of... happened. Dean was tired, hadn't even had his first essential cup of joe yet, let alone the necessary second. It was just a dumb joke, really.

OR

When it finally happens, it's on a Thursday.

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3. TEEN WOLF (sterek)

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LOVE LIKE GHOSTS (Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Canon Universe, Established Relationship, Stiles Has Self-esteem Issues, Choking, Consensual Non-consent, POV Stiles, 713, EXPLICIT)

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They both know not talking about this isn't okay, isn't healthy, but—and God knows why—Derek loves Stiles. So, the big guy, he gets it: that the best thing isn't always the right thing.

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DRAW YOUR SWORDS (Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Canon Universe, Angst, Pining, Getting Together, POV Derek, 7914, EXPLICIT)

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Something inside Derek snaps. No, not snaps. Clicks into place. He snarls, "That's my line, little pig."

Shit.

Stiles blinks, twice. Three times. "What?" and he’s flailing at Derek's reference.

"If you're the little pig…" Derek's predator eyes flick deftly across each of Stiles' delicate features, "...then what does that make me?" 

Realisation crosses sharp yet soft bone structure and Stiles answers, slowly.

"You're the big…"

Derek moves impossibly closer.

"...bad…"

A goddamn virus.

"...wolf."

OR

Derek keeps his distance from Stiles, regardless of how he feels about him. It's better that way. Better for Stiles.

But when Stiles has had enough of pretending there's nothing between them, just how much longer can Derek's wolf be tamed?

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INCLUDES MY ART!

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THE CROSS HE BEARS (Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Canon Universe, Established Relationship, Wolf!Derek (for a time), Derek Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-slash, POV, Derek, 702, MATURE)

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Stiles knows exactly how to take care of his wolf.

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4. BBC SHERLOCK (jimlock)

MY NAME IS A KILLING WORD (Jim Moriarty/Sherlock Holmes, Canon Universe, First Kiss(es), Sherlock's First Time, Getting Together, Jim Moriarty in Love, POV Jim, 671, MATURE)

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He's so funny. Not to them. But to me, he's so funny.

The first time I kissed him—up against a wall, John just around the corner, Sherlock taller than me but certainly feeling small—he was bait on my hook. So much so, I was sure he'd squirm as such but he froze. A museum pillar of what the fuck? Didn't struggle as I tasted Stiff Upper Lip whilst trying to coax out a passion I just knew he had buried inside of him. Then he whispered Moriarty, like a question, and it was hilarious. Hilarious because it was so infuriatingly Sherlock, and hilarious 'cause it was hot as naked sin, I remember thinking as I spirited away, giggling.

OR

The first time Sherlock finally calls his nemesis by his given name. (Moriarty POV).

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5. PREACHER (the unholy trinity)

WELL, I HEARD THERE WAS A SECRET CHORD (Proinsias Cassidy/Jesse Custer/Tulip O'Hare, Canon Universe, Established Relationship, Poly Relationship—F-M-M, PWP, Light Dom/Sub, POV Tulip, 1326, EXPLICIT)

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How do the Unholy Trinity manage to turn anything remotely pious into something truly ungodly?

Like fucking pros, that's how.

With Tulip hating on Genesis, she finds a way to take back a little control... with the help of a certain raucous Irish vampire.

OR

The PWP Dom!Tulip Sub!Jessidy fic nobody asked for.

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PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TUMBLR DON'T EAT THIS IT'S TAKEN ME FORACTUALBLOODYEVER!

[lucifers-trash-stash]

Hi when are you going to keep writing Thanos's Escape Me story?

I'm going to explain this in the nicest terms possible and that might make me sound like a huge bitch but I'll answer this question AGAIN because I get this question constantly and I answer it similarly a lot of the time and my answer isn't directed specifically at you but my experiences as a whole.

It might never be continued. I'm sorry if that makes people upset but its the truth. One of the biggest reasons was Marvel and Disney being an absolute shit companies that only value ratings over genuine good storytelling and made it so that i lost a lot of my interest for the franchise in general. This happened with TWD too and it absolutely burned me from the series altogether. And when that happens with my favorite series' and movies it is easier to cut my losses and focus on shit that makes me happy instead of staying in fandoms that make me upset and angry about what should or shouldn't be.

Another huge reason is because im so tired of the constant asks of when I will post. Which sounds stupid but its because more often than not the ONLY responses to new chapters I would get would be 5% people actually sharing what they liked about the chapter and how much they were invested or interested while the other 95% would be people IMMEDIATELY asking when the next chapter was. No saying they liked my story or anything. Just when will I pump out the next bit of free content out. For Run From Me (the name of the story btw) it would take me weeks and sometimes months of struggling with my writers block and worrying about how people would receive certain things, and then when I was FINALLY happy with the chapter I would post it all excited to see the response to my favorite parts to write and then I would get pretty much dead silence from the majority of people save for those amazing fucking mutuals and followers that would tell me how much they loved the new chapter.

And this isn't me wanting to be congratulated every time I posted something new, hell if I only got a couple of comments compared to the hundreds I've gotten I wouldn't even mind, but just the comments that flat out ignore everything I struggled and worked for to write and only ask, as you have, when I will publish more. No hey I like your fic are you going to continue or hey just curious no pressure or anything, just "when are you posting more." It's always been phrased as a demand of me. And the last chapter really was the breaking point for me. I was so fucking proud of that fic and where I was taking it and was transitioning into the Guardian's of the Galaxy arc and introducing Gamora and Nebula and I thought I had done a really good job with those character dynamics and then got next to no feedback or excitement. Just when and where is the next chapter.

When you couple this with people who even went out of their way to give me backhanded compliments, like one individual who started off by telling me how much they loved my fic but hated the Thanos' wives OCs and hoped Thanos would get rid of them and had a very polyphobic attitude towards me, and while at the time I wasn't identifying as such but as an individual who would classify myself as poly now that sort of shit hurt me a lot. I would also get people who read my very dark story that I thought I was making very clear and obvious that this sort of kidnapping and forcing to be a wife scenario wouldn't lead to a happy ending had a lot of people telling me they couldn't wait until Thanos and my OC were married and got rid of all the wives and lived happily ever after... all of it just debilitated me because I knew telling the story I wanted would make everyone pissed off and hate me.

And thats why I made my slasher/horror movie sideblog. This is my main and I literally cannot be on it anymore because even though my blog has been pretty multi fandom this entire time, and how I tried to delve into Star Wars and writing fic that made me happy, I would always get comments about why I wasn't writing more Thanos. So yeah. Sorry to be the big massive cunt that ruins everyone's day. In fact I still get super fucked up mentally having to confront this every time. Hell I'm even scared to post all of my current writing on my AO3 cause I know for a fact I'm going to get people bitching even more when I literally have posted so many diff fandoms there and not just MCU.

So yeah. Sorry to write out this huge ass emotionally charged response because I normally can answer asks with a level head but this is a subject that hurts me a lot. I can't even promise the fic will even be finished or pretend to be like "oh maybe in the future" because I think I've been so burnt out on it and I get so emotional even just thinking about it.

I'm currently focused on writing things that make me happy in a fandom of some of the nicest people and friends that I've ever had and I couldn't ask for anything better. I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news or make it sound like im making excuses but hey thats kind of how it is. These are my feelings and I have to step away from that fic because it isn't good for my mental health. I need to focus on me and myself and im writing stuff now that makes me happy and surrounding myself with supportive people. And if anyone has a problem with that you need to evaluate your own life.

So yeah. Thats whats up with me. Not sure if anyone will see this or care. I apologize for the emotional ramble but yeah I think I hit my breaking point on this particular topic.

Lots of love to my mutals and friends. I appreciate each and every one of you.

[giraffeter]

*slides a 20$ bill on your desk* so how many signatures do i need to get for you to write a full length thing with vegan anarchist talks-like-a-lawyer xiao xingcheng?

hznancj jokes aside! i! love! keep track of our losing days! with all! my being!!

i found it long ago and contemplated reading it, all with antifa!wwx and cop!lwj, and then i read that short thing you wrote with xue yang and song lan here on tumblr, found you on ao3, realized you wrote the antifa!wwx and cop!lwj fic, and knew that i had to read it

i did sit on it for a while (cause i'm like that. i like to sit on good things to squeeze the happiness juices out of them for as long as i can) and it was worth the wait!! jxnamxmxi i have so many feelings!!!!

the idea of wwx being an antifa activist and lwj being a cop (how many spoilers am i allowed to say?) is so good and so fitting for them! i loved your lwj pov so much because i always love to read fics in his pov (he's Intriguing like that) and yours was so good. secretly funny lwj is best lwj

the flashbacks were fit in so well!! they worked perfectly and the pacing was great and nanxkakxii IT'S GOOD

i also loved every character you included. i can go on and on about the characterization but! this will never end! so i'll just say that jiang cheng's angry grape persona was spot on, everyone else was spot on. wen qing and xiao xingcheng appeared for one (1) conversation each and have successfully left the deepest impression on my heart

i love how you worked around the cql plot and transformed it into your own plot. it's always interesting to see how writers approach that, and you did great! i was also Not Confused over all the detective-ing going on despite being a dumbass so! that's great!

another thing i always love that some modern au fic writers do is alluding to cannon, and the "lock him up in his room for no less than 3 years" got me laughing too much at too late at night

and finally, thank you so much for the donations you made while writing the fic. i'm not american but i know how much y'all are struggling with everything and i'm so proud of you. keep up the good work (also congrats on getting the orange man out of office!!)

and finally finally, the headcanons at the end ended me. both wwx and lwj planning to propose at the same time at the same place? yeah sounds like fucking them. these mfs

and! "the restraining order didn't bother xue yang. xiao xingcheng crying while telling him he doesn't want to see him again did" :) :)) :)))

how fucking dare- (y'all enjoy making me cry over the yi city arc in new versions every day. why. i'll just... take my xuexiao crumbs and leave)

how many more signatures do i need to collect so you include xue yang in the aforementioned xiao xingcheng thing?

anyway!! i loved your fic so much! as i said, i've been sitting on it for weeks and it did not disappoint. your writing is so good. your dialogue writing is so good. i can't wait to read more of your works <3

Hey! That is so so nice to hear, thank you!

I do have a full-length story with vegan antifa XXC and mob hitman XY rattling around in my brain, but it is pretty dark and sad — Xiao Xingchen is more messed up by his breakup with Song Lan than he’s willing to admit to himself, and his relationship with Xue Yang gets pretty toxic/abusive pretty quickly. Xue Yang would not come off particularly well in it. So I don’t know if I’ll ever write it? I’ve never written something that dark before. Once I’m done with An Elegant Solution I have a couple shorter things I’m working on, and then my next long thing will probably be an expansion of that songxuexiao reincarnation AU that you mentioned.

I did end up writing the "The restraining order doesn't matter to Xue Yang. The fact that Xiao Xingchen cried when he said he never wanted to see him again does" scene a while back, and just had never gotten around to posting it — this Ask inspired me to do so, so you can read it here (mind the CWs). Thanks for the inspiration!

I’m always so happy when someone spots my little nods to canon in AUs; this is the first time someone has called out the “lock him up in his room for no less than 3 years” line.

Thanks for your kind words on characterization — that is so so important to me in fic. I really fell in love with LWJ while writing this fic so it means a lot to hear I got his POV right.

I’m glad that non-Americans are also rooting for the US to pull our collective heads out of our asses! We’ve got a lonnnnggg way to go but the events of the last couple weeks are a good start.

Thanks again for this ask — it made my day! I hope you like the extra chapter!

[saltfics]

“You’re panicking?! I’m the one who got fucking *insert injury*!”

Blood, Gore & Injury Sentence Starters Thanks for the ask @bibliothesoph !! I made an Ao3 work for this and future sentence prompts here! But the whole fic is posted under the keep reading as well!

If you want to go really hard on the appreciation, you can tip your fellow writer here. Hope you enjoy!!

 Having famous last words is one way to go down in history. It’s not even just the profound ones that get all the credit. Sometimes, the ones remembered are those that were so cocky and topped with just the right amount of irony to be rendered iconic.  Alex has never forgotten John Sedgwick since he learned about him, not because of his great work as a military officer, but because he had the gall to say ‘they couldn’t shoot an elephant from that distance’. And then they did. 

Alex thinks he has a high chance of going down the same way. In fact, his last words might turn out to be, I can run that fast.

The light for the pedestrians switches from green to red just as he steps on the crossing, but the cars are still far away. Henry’s waiting for him outside the university library, and Alex is already twenty minutes late. I can run that fast, he thinks and dashes instead of stepping back. He doesn’t notice the car that’s mid-turn, a turn that’s far closer thanwhat he based his calculations on. I can run that fast. 

Famous last words.

There’s a precise moment when he realizes he’s completely fucked up, and he wastes one whole sixteenth of a second hoping it’s not the last time he ever gets to fuck up like that. He’s in the middle of the street, too far in to back away, too far away to make it to the other side. It’s a two-car lane. If he takes a step back, there’s something coming his way. If he takes a step forward, there’s another car coming his way. If he stays there  … Fucking fuckity fuck.

If he dies, Henry’s going to murder him.

Metal connects to his side and all that crap about your life flashing before your eyes? It’s still crap, but later he’ll swear time does slow down for him to think. Or his mind goes into overdrive. Same difference. He feels the first slam and he thinks, hey that wasn’t that bad.  He can’t see around him, can’t register his surroundings but he still manages one single, impossible thought in the middle of disaster: Brace yourself. You still have to land.

And maybe that’s why when he does fall on the asphalt, a good two feet away from where the car hit the breaks, his hands are out to protect his face. When his vision returns, he’s on his hands and knees in the middle of the street, his palms stinging from the rough slap against the asphalt. His legs are spread behind him and his backpack is too heavy on his back, pulling him to the side.

Alex is breathing hard, trying to take mental stock of his body. He’s afraid to try moving his legs, but he’s still in the middle of the fucking road, one of the lanes paused because of his stupidity. Okay, okay, he has to move.

He searches his body for any extreme aches that should cause him to panic, but the adrenaline must still be pumping through him because he doesn’t feel any pain. Relief spikes through him for a second. He’s fine. He’s actually fine. Henry’s not going to kill him. June is not going to have his head.

Then he actually tries pushing himself to his feet. Shit, nope, he’s wrong. He’s very wrong. Fuck.

Pain strikes, angry and bright like lightning up his leg, the second he considers putting some weight on it. The effect on him is still blurred, his mind reeling too much to properly panic or wonder what that means.

He doesn’t register the people walking towards him until two sets of hands grab his arms, while a third pries his backpack from his shoulders to lessen his load. Together they guide him to the nearest sidewalk. Alex is sure he says something to them. Thank you, or sorry, or an endless stream of both mixed together into a string of mumbled nonsense.

“Dude, are you okay?” one of the guys supporting him says.

“You should have been more careful,” reprimands the lady who’s still holding his bag. “Why did you cross like that?”

They lower him down into a sitting position again now that he’s not obstructing traffic anymore, and Alex’s head is starting to return to him. A small crowd is gathered around him, talking to him, asking him if he needs anything, but mostly just looking on, curious and worried in equal measure. He looks around for his backpack again, just to make sure it’s nearby. His laptop, including his fresh 25-page paper is in there and he has his priorities straight, damn it. 

He catches a glimpse of what he’s pretty certain is the car that slammed into him drive away as soon as the street is free again. Fucker.

“We should call an ambulance!”

“Should we drive you somewhere?”

“Is there anyone I can call for you, honey?”

That’s when his mind actually connects. “Oh, shit! Henry! Where’s my phone? I-I was holding it? Fuck, is it still on the street?” One of the guys who helped him pushes his phone into his hands. Alex is pretty sure he’s in his class. Shit, he needs to learn his name. Why is he such an ass with this stuff? “Thanks, man,” Alex offers him a guilty smile. “I’m—I’m good. I’m good, everyone! Thank you so much! I’ll just call my boyfriend to-to pick me up! It’s—”

“Alex?”

“Or he’ll find me first.”

The crowd parts as Henry pushes his way through, and soon starts to scatter. The lady hands his backpack to Henry as she leaves, and he accepts it, confused. Alex watches as Henry’s eyes roam over him, widening as he takes him in, sitting on the dirty sidewalk, his leg spread out carefully, his clothes rumpled. And he’s grateful there’s a lack of carnage on him, no blood or torn clothes, that he’s just mildly disheveled, because he can’t imagine putting Henry through that.

Well, he’s also grateful he didn’t die, but again, priorities.

“Alex, what happened?” Henry asks, crouching next to him. He pushes a tangled mess of curls away from his face, letting his hand rest on his cheek. “Why are you on the ground? Are you okay?”

Okay, shit, how does he tell his beautiful, barely calm boyfriend that he was stupid enough to get slammed by a car in one of the busiest streets in New York? “Uh, okay, don’t freak out.” Which is the wrong thing to say, and the fastest way to get Henry to do just that.

“What? Why? What’s wrong? Can you get up? Are you hurt?”

“Yes. And yes. Actually, I think. I don’t know.”

“Alex…  what?”

Alex groans. His leg is still throbbing in a steady pulse, but that’s about it. Even his hands have stopped stinging. “Help me up? Please?”

Henry nods, still confused and Alex doesn’t want to exchange the confusion with whatever’s going to come next. He wonders how much he can play the injury off. He can say he tripped, and with his level of injuries it’ll probably be believable but he doesn’t want to lie to Henry. If it was the other way around…

Alex hisses the moment he’s on his feet. Henry fumbles to readjust his grip on his arms, squeezing a bit too tight as if Alex might break if he doesn’t hold on with all he has. “Shit, sorry. I, uh, okay. So, I had a little accident.”

“You—what kind of accident?” The color washes from Henry’s face as he pulls him closer, shifting his arms so one of them is around Alex’s back instead. “What happened?”

“I’m okay, I promise! I was just really stupid. And crossed the street too carelessly and well…” he shrugs, giving a vague gesture towards his left leg.

Henry looks back towards the street for a moment, and when he turns back to Alex he looks like he’s the one who got struck. “That street?” he asks, voice small. “Are you okay? Are you—Okay, we need to go to the hospital. I’ll call Shaan to come pick us up, do you want to sit down again? Does it hurt? I’m sorry, I—”

Alex places both palms on the side of Henry’s face, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs. “Hey, hey. Look at me.”

Henry hesitates for a second. When those precious blue eyes turn to meet his own, hints of moisture linger in their corners. He’s much paler than he was when he arrived, and Alex wants so desperately to kiss some color back into those lips, watch a rosy pink dust his too cold cheeks.

“Baby…” he coos. “You’re panicking? I’m the one who got ironed. Breathe.”

Henry flinches, his face inching away from Alex’s hold. “Don’t use that word. That’s not funny.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he chuckles. “Would it help if I went to the hospital with you?”

“Would it help? Of course, you’re going to the hospital! ‘Would it help’, he says.”

There’s no chance in hell Henry is going to take no for an answer, so Alex waits for him to call Shaan, lets him help him to the car without any protest. On the way there he gets three phone-calls, the level of exasperation increasing with each one. Apparently one of those kind passerbys was also kind enough to post a photo of him on the sidewalk on his Twitter. His dad calls first to make sure he’s okay. Then June, who upon learning the location of the accident just responds with ‘and you’re still alive?’, which is fair but also very rude, though when he complains to Henry about it, he’s sure he must be using all his patience not to glare at him for the nonchalance. He’s definitely glaring when Zahra calls and Alex just hands the phone over to him with the biggest, most pleading eyes he can muster.

Other than that, Henry stays quiet, eyes glued up ahead and staring at nothing. One of his hands is holding Alex’s own and he squeezes it every few minutes like he’s trying to make sure Alex is still there. It’s scaring him a little, but no matter how many times he insists he’s okay, that it barely even hurts, Henry doesn’t relax. He turns to him, gives him a small, tense little smile, then resumes looking at nothing ahead of him.

It’s fine. They’ll go to the hospital, they’ll get some tests done, and Henry will see he’s in perfect health. Then they’ll go home and cuddle until he forgets how much his leg hurts.

Unless he has some internal bleeding. That would be unfortunate.

The hospital visit passes faster than even he could have predicted. After describing his symptoms, Alex is quickly examined by an orthopedist and taken for x-rays to make sure nothing is broken. Everything comes out clear and in an astonishing show of competency, they’re out of there less than two hours later. Hell, the waiting room took twice as long as the tests themselves.

They stop for some painkillers on the way home, and he’s all set. He won’t even have to miss a class.

But Henry doesn’t perk up with the news. His breathing calms and he gets a hint of color to his cheeks as they drive home, but he’s still quiet. Withdrawn. It hurts more than the leg.

David rushes to greet them when they return, all little jumps and wagging tails. Alex feels a pinch of hurt when Henry grabs the puppy before he can jump on him. He doesn’t reprimand him, of course. Henry never yells at David, not even when he chews on pages of his work that he was foolish enough to leave out, but he’s too listless to play with him either, and it’s that apathy that finally breaks Alex’s heart.

“Henry? Baby, talk to me,” he pleads, leaning on his good leg with one hand against the nearest wall. “I’m fine, so what’s wrong?”

Henry doesn’t look at him. “I’m going to take him out for a bit. We won’t take long. Maybe I can bring food on my way back? What do you feel like having?”

“Henry.”

“Is there anything you need before I leave? Water? Tea? Do you want me to help you up the stairs? Maybe we should just fix up the couch for tonight…”

Alex sighs, limping over to where Henry is still looking away from him, bent over to secure the leash on David’s collar. He wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him upright. “Sweetheart…” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck, as he’s still turned the wrong way. “Please.”

It takes a lifetime to hear his voice. “You’re such an idiot,” Henry breathes, too shaky to hold any bite. He lets Alex turn him around and leans forward to press their foreheads together. “You’re such an arse.” He’s not crying, though he’s shaking, and Alex rubs some warmth up and down his arms, along his back. “Do you have any idea how lucky you got? That was a dangerous fucking street, Alex.”

It’s the lack of anger that truly does him in. Henry might be mad at him but it’s not enough to overpower the fear that’s been rooting within him for hours. “I’m sorry. I know. I’m so sorry.” Alex pulls back slightly to give him a soft smile. “Would it help if I said I was rushing because I was so desperate to see you?”

“Alex. ”

“Nope, I made it worse. Got it.” He presses a chaste kiss to his lips. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It was stupid, even for me. It won’t happen again, I promise. I’ll look both ways. Twice. I’ll fucking study physics to calculate the speed of cars versus my chance of running into them if I have to!” A smile trembles at Henry’s lips and Alex grins. “Watch me! Hey,” he says, softer now. He presses another kiss, this one to his cheek, smiling against him when Henry tilts his head towards the touch. “Anything to wipe that look off your face, and never have to see it again.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry I worried you.”

“I know.”

David squeezes between their legs, pawing at Henry, nudging him with his nose.

Alex smiles. “It’s okay, buddy. I upset your daddy a little bit, but we’ll be fine. Right?”

Henry nods, bending down to scratch the top of David’s head, before heading for the door. “He doesn’t like it when I’m upset.”

“We have that in common.”

Henry makes sure to wrap him into the biggest hug before he leaves, even though he’s all kinds of dirty from lying on the road, and probably still smells like the hospital. Alex presses his face into the crook of his neck, breathes him in. Guilt churns in his stomach when he really stops to think about it, how stupid it was, how Henry must have felt. He squeezes a bit tighter before letting go.

And because he’s a total hypocrite, but he got himself too worked up not to, he calls out after him before he shuts the door.

“Hey, look both ways before you cross the road!”

Henry loves him, anyway.

[hallie-fics]

author spotlight - still_i_fall

He wants to forget how it felt to be hers for just one second.

- remember it’s all pretend @in-my-head-i-do-everything-right

one of the most prolific writers in the hallie fandom, @in-my-head-i-do-everything-right (still_i_fall) has graced us with classic after classic. i had an absolute blast talking with her, and hope you all enjoy the interview!

q&a

Hey! Thanks again for including me in this! Very excited to answer the questions. I love talking about myself. 

Favorite of your stories (and why)

I almost got stuck on this question. I really want to say remember it’s all pretend because I am so incredibly proud of that one. It was the first multi chapter fic that I ever properly finished and I feel like that really means something to me. I also really love that concept, and how it was able to fit in slowburn and enemies to friends to lovers and mutual pining plus a million other little tropes. And, most of all, it was really fun to write. It happened really easily. It’s something I’ll go back to sometimes if I’m ever in the mood to reread my own work. 

But I also love this new thing that I just wrote called i just wanna dance with you. I think if I can pull it off, it could be something really amazing. I was able to write the first chapter in about a week and had a ton of fun doing it. And I really love writing Harry’s pov and just switching things up a little. Ugh, I really love the idea of hallie meeting/knowing each other as little kids and I think that’s pretty apparent in these two fics. 

Easiest story to write

I’ll stop the world (and melt with you) happened really quickly which I guess qualifies it as easy to write. I thought it’d be more difficult just because so much of it is dependent on canon which is something I’m not entirely used to, but it ended up going to fast. I think somewhere I still have a page of notes on that Prom episode and everything that happens to Allie and Harry. I really wanted to include pieces of dialogue from the show. 

I also think it was because I used to do this thing when I was bored where I’d think about who I’d want to be trapped in a Groundhog day like loop with and what’d I’d do. It was just this recurring thought/ daydream I had when I was younger so it’s definitely a situation that I’ve thought through a little. 

Hardest story to write

The taste, the touch, the way we love has been a pain in the ass to write right from the start. Sometimes it’s really fun, but I think I’ve been sticking way too close to the outline I drew at the very start and have been avoiding writing it for too long. Sometimes I absolutely love to write it and have the time of my life, and other times I hate it. There’s not much of an in between. Still definitely want to finish it. Just waiting on that final bit of inspiration. 

Pre-writing process

I’m all about doing a full outline. Usually. With most longer fics (anything I think will be over 6,000 words), I do a full outline where I plan out the progression of the fic and specific scenes and pieces of dialogue. Usually, the plot hits me all at once and is usually the easiest part of the writing process for me. From that original outline, I usually have at least a few specific scenes fully planned out with pieces of dialogue and/or exposition. For example, for i’ll stop the world I started out the planning process with the introduction piece of the fic. That first paragraph is straight out of the note apps on my phone. A lot of the time it’ll end up being a bullet point list of main bits. I’ll use parentheses to specify the tone of a scene or little details and then use brackets for things that I want verbatim in the fic. 

But sometimes I end up with very little pre-planning. The skating au is kinda the only good example of this. I only had the roughest of outlines for that one (how i wanted the first chapter to start and end) and everything else just came together as I tried to get from point A to point B. 

What drew you to Hallie

The potential. They could have a really great story and I think that’s fun. There’s a lot of chemistry there and their dynamic is fun and, yeah, I think I’m a little too far in to get out now.

Favorite line (or lines)/ section you’re proud of

God, I have so many. Hope you don’t mind me going through them. It’s incredibly self indulgent but also gives me an excuse to go through my old works.

From the very first hallie fic I ever wrote, how you wish it would be all the time:

“And Harry's not perfect. He's not what she wanted before this all started or even really after, but everything's different now.”

Sometimes I forget about this fic, but I really shouldn’t cause there is a solid chance that this was my peak. And this line is really fun. 

From we kiss and we keep busy:

“The stars may have moved a little bit, but they’re still there, and they still look the same, and that’s good enough for her.”

I promise I’m not going through every hallie fic I’ve ever written but god I love this line. 

From i saved a picture where your hair was braided:

“It’s late nights and long talks and video games and cookie dough. It’s almost kisses, then definite kisses, and then not wanting to wake up anywhere but his bed. That’s how she starts to fall in love with Harry Bingham.”

Just that last part. That last line. The rest is just there for some fun context. Fun fact: this entire little mini fic was a desperate attempt to stave off writer's block and is based entirely around that single line in the song Donna by the lumineers. Still had a lot of fun with it, though.

From remember it’s all pretend:

“He wonders when she’ll realise that this hasn’t been pretend for him in years.    Probably never.    (He’d still run away with her.)”

“In the back of her mind, Allie wonders why she didn’t try harder to stay with Harry, why now she can only seem to fall in love in front of a camera where there’s the promise of pretend.”

“She likes to think that they’re still friends, that they’re just friends who don’t talk anymore, two people who drifted because one couldn’t handle the idea of change.”

This fic has a million little bits that I love. I could literally go on forever. It’s just full of that mutual pining angst that I live for. 

From but i close my eyes and i’m somewhere else:

“She did not mention this earlier because she was trying desperately hard to ignore it, but fuck, she’s really missed him calling her Pressman.”

“She wonders if Cassandra has any travel sized neck pillows.”

This fic is surprisingly good seeing as I don’t remember writing it at all. I was very much high on some sort of flu medication while writing this and I think that explains a lot about this fic. It’s fun, though. I really love the tone.

From the taste, the touch, the way we love:

“She starts to feel like she couldn’t avoid Harry if she wanted to (and somehow, as the days turn into weeks, she finds herself not wanting to more and more).”

“There’s saltwater in her eyes, hair, and mouth. Harry’s leaning back in it, floating. She is too. The water is blue, and warm, and the sky is clear. Sometimes his hand will grab hers just to pull her closer. When she thinks of calm, of happiness, and vacation, she’ll think of this moment.”

“They’re quiet for a moment. Maggie Rogers can be heard in the background, faded and slow. Harry’s tapping his fingers along to it on the wheel, eyes staring straight ahead. The road is lined with trees, and it all feels like home.”

“For a half a second, she thinks she loves him. She pushes that away and watches him throw wrapping paper behind him dramatically. She pushes it away and she smiles and she laughs and she tries not to think too hard about what all of this means.”

This fic definitely has its moments. I’m really excited to get the last part done and out, though. I just feel like I’ve spent too long on this fic. I want it done.

From i just wanna dance with you:

“Allie met Harry the same day Cassandra did. It was early in the morning and she was four and now, when she looks back, all she can remember from the moment is the vague outline of wild hair and a smile so bright and wide and carefree that it really can’t be anyone else’s.”

“She tries to remember that she likes skating with Will, that there’s no point in wondering what it’d be like if things were just a little bit different.”

“She lied earlier; gold, silver, bronze, doesn’t matter. Harry always looks good.”

“The first time he ever placed first in a competition, she was skating with him. He wonders how long he’ll associate the feeling of a gold medal around his neck with her hand in his. He hopes it’s not long. “

I’m so excited to finish this fic like you guys don’t even understand. It’s really fun and it feels easy to write (so far; knock on wood) and I love the concept. 

What type of Hallie stories do you like to write/read?

I only write au’s just because I think the rules are little different, everything’s just a little bit more relaxed. You’re allowed so much freedom when it’s a completely different universe and I really love that. I went through a phase recently where I was obsessed with canon divergence and this whole idea of a history of contingency. Just there being these points or moments where if one thing was just a little different, everything would’ve changed. I love that and I think that’s really apparent in my drafts/ unreleased wips. 

I’ll read anything, though. Especially with the Hallie ao3 page being so small. I do definitely have a preference still towards au’s, though.

How long have you been writing

For forever. As a kid, I’d fill up entire notebooks with story ideas. It was my favorite thing to do. When I was twelve, a teacher complimented my writing, and I think that really stuck with me. It’s just something I’ve always enjoyed doing. 

Do you ever worry about how your stories are received

Not really. A little bit with multi chapter stories just because I really want every chapter to be better than the last. I just really don’t want to disappoint anyone. 

What’s the hardest part of writing for you

The middle bits. I usually have a very clear idea of the beginning and end so it’s everything in between that I have trouble with. I think that’s why I’m so big on outlining.

Do you ever get writer's block and how do you deal with it

Oh my god all the fucking time! Right now, for example. Usually, I just try to work through it, especially if I have a project in progress. I also do a lot of reading to try to force some sort of inspiration. A lot of what I write is based on what I’m reading. I’ll also listen to music. And, recently, I’ve been making mood boards for my fics which has been so much fun. I really like looking at pretty pictures.

Biggest risk you’ve taken as a writer

Lol I don’t really take risks. I think the riskiest thing I do is post the first chapter of a story with none of the second chapter started. I do that a lot. 

Favorite Hallie trope

Reluctant friends to very good friends to lovers. Also, living together without establishing a clear relationship. I write that a lot. Mutual pining is always fun too. 

Favorite Hallie headcanon

That Harry calls Allie ‘Pressman’ which forces Allie to call him ‘Bingham’. I just think there’s something so fun about calling someone by their last name. Plus, then you get that moment when the first name is used and that gets to be significant. Oh, also that they both swear like sailors, but that’s mostly self-insert on my part.

This felt very self indulgent, but I hope it was at least somewhat enjoyable for someone. 

I am forever waiting to read whatever @in-my-head-i-do-everything-right writes next. It was great to see some of the behind the scenes and I would definitely recommend her latest release cities you’ll never see on screen.

[hornsbeforehalos]

Anytime, Sweetheart: Part 17

Pairing: JDM x OFC,  Features: Ackles & Padalecki Families, R2, Misha Collins & Vicky Vantoch, Norman Reedus, Andrew Lincoln, Kim Rhodes, Briana Buckmaster, Ruth Connell, Corey Taylor and other cast members & OFCs* *THIS IS AN RPF FIC** SERIES MASTERLIST Summary: (I’m horrible at summaries, but let me try): Kylin Ackles runs to her brother’s house after leaving her abusive boyfriend of 3 years, where she meets Jeffrey. Events unfold that bring them together, as well as push them apart. Warnings: Emotional abuse, Physical Violence, mentions of rape, cursing, drinking, recreational drug use (weed), Strip Club, RPF, NSFW**, GIFs, implied smut, Age Difference, Slow burn, Emotional rollercoaster, poorly written smutt, etc… 18+ please(A/N: This is strictly a work of fiction that I came up with off the top of my head. For fictional purposes, his S/O & Son are not mentioned. I love him and his little family, though, so no hate intended. This is the first time posting anything on Tumblr, but I couldn’t get it out of my head since my ao3 fic is currently on hiatus because writers block. Feedback is appreciated. unbetaed, all mistakes are mine.) TAGS: @jml509 @jesbakescookies @daddy-kink-confirmed@aquivercactus  @xagateophobiax @sorenmarie87@missghoul18@jdmfanfiction @jeffreydeanneganstrash @through-thesilver-lining@beffyblueeyes @docharleythegeekqueen

   "Jesus Christ, Jeffrey, what the fuck were we thinking!?" I whined from the shower stall, scrubbing myself clean.    "I-I-I'm sorry, Ky, I couldn't...you said..." was his muttered response from where he stood leaning against the bathroom sink.    "Fucking bitch. We're screwed. I'm screwed. God damn." I huffed, blowing water out of my face as I rinsed my hair.

"Just because...doesn't mean that anything's gonna come from it."    "Jeff, this is me. My luck is shit." I replied, shutting off the water and opening the door.    He greeted me with a towel in his open arms for me to step into, which I did and appreciated him engulfing me in it and kissing the top of my wet head as he held me.    "Would it be so bad, having a baby with me?" He frowned, looking down at me with an emotion in his eye I couldn't quite place.    I sighed, "Jeff, neither of our lives are available for a baby. Hell, we barely see each other ever." "And who's idea was that?"    "Hey, I'm fucking here, aren't I?" I furrowed my brow and recoiled my head from him in offence. "Which brings me to my next question."    I sighed again and stepped out of the bathroom with the towel around my body and into his bedroom to find a shirt. I picked one of his old ACDC ones and threw it on before pulling the leggings I had been previously wearing back over my thighs. The sun was up now and Jeffrey had called into set while I was in the shower to let him know that he was going to be running late. "I don't want to talk about it, Jeffrey. I'm here. I wanted to see you and I came."    "Yeah you did." He teased, wagging his eyebrows and biting his tongue between his teeth. He trapped me between his arms as he loomed over where I sat on the bed. 

   I rolled my eyes at him and patted him on the soft scruff of his cheek with my hand, earning me a chuckle as he nuzzled his face into my palm.    "You wanna come to work with me today?" he rasped as he moved to kiss my neck.    "What else am I gonna do while I'm here? Got two days before the boys get in." I smirked at him, pushing him away so I could stand up and make my way over to his dresser mirror. I braided my long, wet hair into pigtails and wiped the remaining smudged eyeliner from my face. He pressed himself against my backside and moved his hands in front of my to play with my braids.    "You're so damn cute, woman. I still can't believe you're actually standing in front of me. What changed your mind?" He put his chin on the top of my head and looked at me through the mirror.    "Someone reminded me that I belong with you." I replied sweetly, meeting his eyes in the reflection with a tender smile on my face.    "Was it your boy toy?" He quirked an eye brow at me and I narrowed my lids at him and exhaled a growlish sound. He chuckled a bit before wrapping his long arms around my shoulders and I brought my hands up to his forearms.    "He kissed me." I said truthfully, watching his reaction as the words registered in his mind.    He took a deep breath in and exhaled loudly, his shoulders moving with the motion before tightening his arms around me. He was quietly looking at my face in the mirror, eyes glinting. "And you didn't like it?" he finally spoke.    "I'm here, aren't I?" I repeated again, annoyance flitting through my voice "I flew across the continent by myself to run into your arms, didn't I?"    He gave a small smirk at that, one side of his mouth lifting as he huffed a small giggle before pulling away from me, "I suppose."

   I made Jeffrey stop by a drug store on the way to the studios so I could get the Plan B pill, me praying and hoping to whatever gods and goddesses there were that I didn't end up with a rug rat outta this.    "You probably should get on some birth control, sweetpea. Ain't no way I'mma be able to pull out everytime." he'd said once I had crawled back into the truck and popped the little pill in my mouth. I swallowed with a deep gulp of my Red Bull and looked over to him with a smirk. 

   "Who says you're getting anymore, Mr. Morgan?" the tone in my voice obviously hinting at the opposite.    A hum came from his chest as he looked at me knowingly as he placed his hand on my bare thigh. I had changed into shorts and a tank top before we left the house, the Georgia heat blistering. I propped my sandaled feet up on the dashboard, his hand not moving, and sat back in the seat as he rubbed his calloused hands over my flesh.    "Ms. Ackles, has anyone ever told you you're the biggest tease in the world?" He chuckled, squeezing the tenderness a bit and causing my breath to hitch. My eyes shifted over to see the gorgeous smile plastered across his face while his forearm rested over the steering wheel. I snorted, "Tom did all the time. See where that got him."    "Tom didn't have a smile as awesome as mine." He shifted his hand up a little bit further, towards the frayed ends of my shorts.    "True, Mistah J. You do have a killer smile," I giggled in my best Harley impersonation.    He chuckled again and shook his head, his eyes closing for a second before returning to the road, "I love you, you know that?" "Yes." I turned my head to look at him as he continued to stare forward "You love me?" his eyes shifted to me for a second and he bit his bottom lip. "Sometimes." I sighed, teasing him with a Cheshire grin. "Brat." He chuckled again, giving my thigh a little shake in amusement. "Always." I snorted back at him.  "My Brat."    "If you can put up with me." My eyebrow raised up at him in challenge as I glanced sideways at him.  "You ain't nothing that I can't handle, darlin'." he assured.  "If you say so, Mr. J." "I say so, Ms. Ackles, and what I say goes."

   Jeffrey and I walked hand in hand through the rows of trailers at the studio, his eyes twinkling behind his RayBans as he swung our arms back and forth with a smile on his face that could make a blind woman see again.    "Happy, love?" I asked with a giggle as I peered up at him behind my own sunglasses.    "Hell fucking yeah I am." He beamed down at me, his smile seeming to get even brighter, "I got laid last night."    I rolled my eyes as we approached Norman's trailer, Jeffrey rapping at the door with a "Woof."    Norman opened the door, dressed in his Daryl wardrobe, and his eyes instantly went to me, "Kylin! What the fuck!" 

   "Hey Normskie." I chuckled as he launched himself down the stairs at me, tangling me in a bear hug before taking my face in his hands,    "So fucking good to see you, girl! I've been needing to talk to you!" He kissed my forehead with a smack before turning towards Jeff, "You went and got your girl, didn't you, brother?"    "Actually, Bubbah, this time she came for me." He explained, brushing his beard down with his hand as he smirked at the innuendo.    Norman, never missing a beat or an opportunity, gave a naughty grin of his own and replied, "I bet she did"    We stepped into Norman's trailer and I found myself a spot on the sofa, Jeffrey sitting next to me and placing his arm on the back behind me. Norman sat on the floor in front of us on the other side of the coffee table. He leaned over and opened one of the nearby cabinets and pulled out a small pipe and sack and began to pack a bowl. 

   "I got a call back from Webster, the dude I introduced you to at the gallery?" he began, looking up from his task to see me nod my head before continuing, "I sent him the work that we took in New York before you left, and he really liked it. He talked to the artist on the project he's working with and she apparently really liked your style. I gave him your info, so they should be calling you within the week he said." He brought the pipe and lighter to his lips, taking a hit before passing it towards me.    My eyes widened as I comprehended what he said at the same time as I shifted forward on the couch to take the pipe from his hands, "Really? They liked it?" I took a hit and passed it to Jeff, "That's crazy."    "You're good at everything you do, woman. I don't know why you doubt yourself so much." Jeffrey insisted, lungs full of smoke before he exhaled, "Give yourself some credit."    I rolled my eyes as at him and shifted back towards Norman, "I really wasn't thinking that it would go past me and you messing around."     Norman burst out laughing with smoke still in his lungs, enticing a coughing fit from his as he regained control.    "Jesus Christ, I'm smoother than cream cheese on your mama's bagel until I get around your dumb ass, you know that?" I shook my head and looked down as I took the pipe from him, cheeks burning as Jeffrey continued to chuckle behind me. I turned around and smacked him in the chest, "Shut the fuck up, Morgan."    "Yes 'mam." he snorted, trying to stiffle his laughter as a P.A knocked on the door to call Daryl to film and Jeff to wardrobe. 

​   "Well isn't this a pleasant surprise?" Andrew Lincoln beamed, coming up behind me from where I sat in Jeffrey's chair behind the film crew.    "Hey, Andy, how have you been?" I replied with a smile, outstretching my arms for him to hug me.    "Good, love. Good, good." He answered as he sat down in the chair next to me, "Here for buisness or pleasure?"    "A little bit of both, actually. I flew in early to see Jeff, but I have a convention this weekend with my boys." "Lovely, dear. We should have drinks this weekend while everyone's here."    "That would be awesome, Misha's birthday's on Monday and he's been dying to celebrate." "It's settled then. I'll get with Jeffrey and handle the details."

   "Details about what?" Came his raspy voice, pulling my attention away from Andy and back to him. God Damn that fucking leather jacket and bat. Pull it together, Ky. "Dinner and drinks with everyone this weekend, mate."

   Jeffrey nodded his head with a wink towards me, "Any chance I get to get this one liquored up, I take."    "Lord Jesus." I huffed, shaking my head as he leaned down to place a chaste kiss on my lips.    "I even still have that little black dress in my closet," He lowly rasped in my ear, sending goosebumps to the surface of my skin. "Hmmm, you never did get to see it on me, did you?"    "No, doll, I didn't. I also didn't get to take you out on my bike, which is why I'm leaving early today." "You already came in late, Jeff."    "And I'm already done with what they need of me. Get your purse and get in the truck, woman." He retorted teasingly.    "Yes, sir." I snorted, rolling my eyes once more before hoisting myself off the chair and bidding Andy a good day.

   The wind was whipping through my hair like crazy, the braids thrashing around behind me like I was Medusa under my helmet or something. My leather jacket that Jeffrey had bought just for me stuck to his where my arms were wrapped tightly around his waist. I kept my eyes squeezed shut, not out of fear, but to keep the wind and dust out of them while Jeffrey stormed down the long stretch of asphalt at a speed that had to be nearing 100mph. He would chuckle when he felt me squeeze tighter on a turn or gear shift, happy to feel my small little body clinging to him like my life depended on it. Well, technically it did.    We rode around for an hour and a half before he finally pulled us into a quiet diner right out side Senoia. Jeff and Norman frequented there on their excursions, so when we stepped in the hostess was quick to greet him. "Mr. Morgan, nice to see you this evening!" She smiled, kind eyes flicking between the two of us, "Will it be just ya'll this evening?"    "Yes, 'mam" he replied, voice unintentionally husky. The poor girls face flushed at his tone before she quickly turned and lead us to a back booth. I shot him a look and he shrugged his shoulders innocently "You're gonna give someone a heart attack with that voice, one day, Mr. J."    "Oh yeah," He lowered his baritone down until it was almost just a rumble from his toes as he pushed his reading glasses on to his face. He slithered a hand under the tablecloth and reached over to grab my leg and pull my foot into his lap. He looked across the table at me with hooded eyes and massaged my calf.    "Jesus." I gasped, feeling my pupils dilate as I watched him smirk at me. He chuckled a bit before taking one hand and opening the menu in front of him, laying it down flat and assessing it as he returned his fingers to my muscle under the table.    I opened my own menu and looked over it, an array of  comfort foods that could only be found in the South. My mouth watered at both the dinner options and the delicious way that Jeffrey's fingers worked my leg. The waitress came over and took our drink orders and Jeffrey pulled my other leg into his lap to continue, the both of us quietly stealing looks from one another as we made our meal choices. I couldn't control a few of the mewls that his hands dragged out of me, which caused him to rumble a chuckle as he watched me.    "The usual, Mr. Morgan? Where's Mr. Reedus this evening?" The waitress said when she approached a short time later to refill our sweet teas and take our order.    "He's somewhere, hon. Just me and this hellcat tonight." He lifted his hands onto the table and gestured to me. The young woman smiled and shifted her eyes over to me.    "You're Dean's little sister, aren't you?" She asked as she pulled out her order pad.    "Ha." I huffed, lowering my face and shaking my head for a second before looking back up to her, "Yeah, Jensen's my brother."    "He's so hot." she commented absentmindedly, before startling her self back into reality, "Oh! Sorry."    "You're fine, doll." He chuckled, pulling his glasses off his nose and handing her the menu before looking to me, "I'll take my usual. What are you getting, Darling?" "Chicken fried steak, please, with mash potatoes and macaroni." "Ha!" Jeffrey and the waitress both barked at the same time. "What?" I asked, confusion contorting my face and making my eyebrow raise    "That's his 'usual', sweetheart. That's cute." She looked between the two of us with a sweet smile and a giggle before turning and heading towards the kitchen.    "Well, that's funny." He said, reaching over to take my hands while scrunching his nose playfully.    "Great minds' stomachs think alike." I grinned back, squeezing his fingers slightly in affection. 

​   Dinner was absolutely amazing and the ride home was thrill-full as well. Jeffrey learned over our meal that I had actually knew how to ride on the back of a bike and took full advantage of it, taking the turns sharper and lower and letting the bike growl just a little bit louder with the speed. I held on to him for dear life the entire time, and I kinda think that that's why he really through caution towards the wind. 

   When we got back to his house, it was just after ten. I was exhausted, being up for almost 24 hours straight was definitely taking its toll on me. I quickly stripped and changed back into the ACDC shirt I had stolen from Jeffrey earlier, forgoing pants, and curled myself up on his huge leather sofa.    "Tired, baby doll?" He asked, sitting beside me and handing me a big glass of red wine. He had changed into sleep pants and a tank top, and in his other hand carried a tray with a pack of rolling papers and allt he other ingredients needed to roll a joint. "Mmm, yeah. Jetlag is finally catching up with me, I think."    "I'm sorry, baby doll. This, that, and me will get you knocked out in no time." He gestured to my glass of wine that I was sipping from and the nicely rolled reefer in between his fingers.    "Mmm, amazing." I smiled sleepily at him at the taste of the sweet alcohol. He lit the spliff and inhaled deeply, choking slightly on the smoke as he passed it to me and turned on the television.    He sat back into the cushion and I nuzzled into his chest and side as we passed the joint back and forth between the two of us while I gulped on the glass of liquid heaven. Once the glass and weed were done, he cleared the couch and laid down behind me after opening the window behind the sofa and lighting a cigarette to share with me.    "This feels like home, doll. You fit me." He mumbled as he slipped the cigarette from his fingers to mine.    "Yeah." I said quietly, inhaling the cancer and exhaling slowly before nuzzling in deeper "I do, don't I?" "Like a puzzle." he confirmed "I love you, Jeffrey."    "I love you, Kylin." he kissed my temple and pressed his cheek to the side of my face. "Thank you." "For what?" "Loving me." "Ha. Anytime, sweetheart."

   “Well God-fucking-damn, toots, look at you.” Jeffrey growled as I stepped out of the bedroom in my little black dress, “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

“You likey?” I smiled, spinning around for him. 

   “Like? more like Love, dear.” he rasped, grabbing my hand and pulling me into his chest, “Could eat you the fuck up, little one.”

   I giggled, peering up at him as he bent over to melt his lips with mine and snake his tongue into my mouth, enticing a moan from my chest as his fingers gripped my waist tightly. I would never, ever, get over that man’s kisses.

   “We have people waiting on us, Mr. Morgan.” I hummed against his lips when he finally let the kiss simmer down.

   “One thing real quick, love. You’re outfit is missing something.” He grinned as he kissed my forehead before picking something up off the nearby table.

“And what’s that?”

   “I believe you forgot these the last time you were here.” He answered, opening the large velvet box for me that contained my necklace and ring. 

   “I did, didn’t I?” I smirked as I looked up at him while he pulled the jewelry from the box. 

   “Mmmhmm, no more taking this off.” He said as he slipped the ring on my finger where it belonged. 

“Yes sir.” I said as he clasped the necklace around my  neck. 

   “One more thing,” he dug into the other side of his jacket and pulled out another case. 

“Oh yeah?” I asked as he handed it to me.

   I opened it and gasped, seeing the most beautiful diamond tennis bracelet, “Jeffrey.”

   “Kylin.” he smiled, taking the bracelet off of the velvet before clasping it around my left wrist.

“You spoil me entirely too much. I’ll never be able to give you stuff like this.” 

   “Sure you will, trust me. Plus, I like spoiling you. I like seeing other men look at my woman coated in diamonds and know she’s being taken care of.”

“You definitely do that, Mr. Morgan. Far more than I deserve.”

“You deserve the world, Ms. Ackles, and I intended to give it to you.”

   “Happy Birthday, Dear Mishaaaaa, Happy Birthday to youuuuu.” we all sang, glasses raised in the air as Misha drunkenly stood on the chair and ‘waved to his peasants.’ We were all laughing and drinking and celebrating, everyone was having the perfect time. 

And then Corey walked in. 

‘why me? like seriously?’

   “Taylor! Back here, bro!” Norman shouted from across the bar, getting his attention and waving him over. 

   “Fucking Christ,” I hissed as I felt Jeffrey’s arm throw itself over my shoulder and pull me closer to his side in my chair. Everyone said their greetings to the man, besides us, and he sat down on the opposite side of the table, a few seats down. 

   His eyes of course instantly met mine when he took his seat and flicked to Jeffrey’s for a moment before giving us a curt nod. Jeffrey let off a low, dominating growl that only I could hear. Misha of course sensed the tension between the two men and since he was drunk and it was his birthday, decided it would be the funniest thing in the world to tease us. The others at the table didn’t know about Corey and I, or Jeff and I’s arguments in regards to him. Corey didn’t even know the man secretly wanted to knock him into next week for even thinking about kissing me. Which left Misha all the more room to play. 

   “Kylin, dahhhling, that’s is a b-e-a-utiful bracelet, is that new?” he said in an overly dramatic accent.

   I glared at him, and I could hear Jeffrey chuckle beside me as he leaned back in his chair to scruff his beard and wait for my answer. 

   “Yes, Dmitri, It is.” I ground out, eyes fluttering to everyone who was watching me. Corey included. 

   “You’re always buying her expensive gifts, Jeffrey. You spoil her too much.” Misha teased some more, swirling the liquid around in his glass before taking a sip, “Look, Jense she’s got that rock back on her finger, too. You owe me a hundred bucks, babe.” 

   “That’s what she said earlier.” Jeffrey chuckled, sitting up in his chair slightly and rubbing my arm as he kissed my temple, “And like I told her, she deserves it. I’mma have my woman dripping in diamonds if I have my way.” 

   I knew he was mostly saying it as a way of staking claim to me, rubbing shit in Corey’s face, so to speak. It didn’t matter, though, because my face still flushed and I turned to him and kissed his cheek, nuzzling my nose over his beard for a moment before returning my eyes back to Misha.

“How much you think you’ve spent on her so far?” Misha asked, curious.

   “Ha. She wouldn’t want to know.” He chuckled, fingers gently tracing down my neck to the pendent between my breasts, “A small fortune, to say the least.”

   “How many karats is that fucking ring?” It was Briana who blurted out from her end of the table. 

   Jeffrey chuckled again, smoothing his beard down as he held his tongue between his teeth, “7.”

   “Judas fucking Priest.” Corey gasped with a whistle, making Jeffrey secretly beam with pride in his eyes for a moment before he wrangled himself.

   “Only the best for my queen.” He drawled, nuzzling the tip of his nose against my hair as I burned a bright red at his words. 

   “Jesus Christ, babe, you never told me that!” I gasped, turning my head to him and smacking him in the chest.

   He chuckled, recoiling back slightly from my faux assault, “Oh please, like you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t!” 

   “Please, that rock looks like it’s worth more than all 5 of my kids combined, sis. Get it together.” My brother joked, leaning his head drunkenly against Misha’s shoulder as he joined the conversation, “I need another drink, Mishka.”

   “No, you don’t.” Misha responded, looking down at Jensen fondly in his drunken state with a chuckle, “You need some water.”

   “I could use another shot with all this tension in the air, so I’mma go do that. You coming, Collins?” Norman finally said before Mish nodded and helped Jensen stand and followed him to the bar. 

And then the awkwardness really set in.

Corey cleared his throat, “Look, um, I know this is awkward.”

   Jeffrey and I both simultaneously snorted, and I reached forward to down the rest of my drink. 

   “I just want to apologize, to the both of you. I shouldn’t have ever kissed you, especially not really knowing the situation with you, Jeff.”

   Jeffrey hummed and nodded, “It’s in the past, just keep your eyes to yourself, boy.”

For being in his 40′s, Corey felt like a little kid when he responded, “Yes, sir.”

   I sighed, “I’m sorry I made it kinda, confusing, I guess. Um, it’s been weird lately.”

   “But it’s not anymore.” Jeffrey corrected, making sure that Corey knew I wasn’t going anywhere.

   “That’s awesome. I’m happy for you guys, really.” He smiled at us, and I gave him a small smile back. 

   “So what brings you out here?” I asked, sucking the melted ice through the straw of my glass, wondering where Norman and Misha had run off to at about the same time they all showed back up. My brother was still thoroughly wrecked, but more coherent.

   Norman handed me another drink that I was extremely thankful for, “Bubs here hadda puke.”

I rolled my eyes, “Of course he did.”

   Jeffrey shook his head at my brother, “Boy, didn’t I teach you better?” which caused the rest of the table to laugh out loud. 

   “Shuddup, Daddy.” Jensen mumbled, resuming his spot against his best friend’s shoulder.

   “Only your sister’s allowed to call me that, son.” Jeffrey prodded with a smirk and a wink, earning him another smack from me as my face turned red while everyone else hooped and hollered cat calls. 

“Jeffrey Dean!” 

“What?”

“I hate you!”

“Do not.”

   I huffed and crossed my arms before turning my attention back to Corey, “I told you they were embarrassing. I’m just glad Jared’s not here.”

   Corey giggled, his eyes squeezing shut as he wiped his mouth with his palm, “Yeah, they’re outta there. But um, I was actually here seeing Normskie, needing his input on a couple band art projects I’ve been working on.” 

   Norman nodded before taking over, “They’re redoing a couple of the videos with newer versions. It’s actually funny that your here...”

   I quirked an eyebrow at him as he looked over my head to Jeffrey, who I wasn’t looking at, but felt the hum deep in his chest. 

   “That would be really dope, actually. I mean, if you wouldn’t mind and are not to busy.” Corey interrupted, gaze flicking between Jeffrey and me. 

   “Hmm. Possibly. Um, everything’s about to calm down with Gish in a couple weeks, uh. Norm, didn’t you say that Webster fellow was supposed to call me sometime next week?” I turned back to Norman for a second to see him nod his head again at me. 

   “Let me figure out what my scheduled gonna be like this next month and I’ll let you know, okay?”

   “Sounds like a plan.” Corey shared a smile with Norman as they both raised their glasses in toast. 

   “Thank you for not a douche, tonight, handsome.” I smiled, crawling over the covers towards him as we got into bed. 

   “Me? A douche bag? Well I’ve never heard such a thing.” He gasped, feigning offence as he peered at me over his glasses from his place against the headboard.

I snorted as I fell into his arms, “Yeah. Sure, Mr. J.”

   “Well, I do think he got my intentions.” he rasped, turning out the light and curling his arms around me as I snuggled closer to him.

“I think he did as well.” I chuckled.

   “I love you, Kylin. And I promise to you, you are my queen, and I will love you for as long as you allow it.”

“You’re promising a long time, Mr. Morgan.” 

   “I understand that. Was kinda my goal.” He scrunched if face and nuzzled his nose to mine. 

“Sweet dreams, Jeff.”

“Sweet dreams, baby doll.”

PART 18 RELEASED 9/21/2017