#i finally figured out why chapter 5 was so hard to write

[best--dress]

WIP Wednesday

hi hello!

january has been destroying me. the cold, the seasonal depression, my deep feelings of inadequacy at work, and this week pms is hitting hard (on 17 degree days. whyyyy). thank magic i have the carry on fandom to burrow down into. (i am finally making a dent on my tbr <3)

I haven't been writing much because both of my current projects are at the editing stage, and who can edit when you feel this shitty? I am really really excited to have finally mostly-written a draft of chapter 5 of WAYITD, and I'm hoping to post that by the end of the month.

Here is a line from that chapter that I just adore. I wrote it and it felt like one of the trickier relationships in the fic clicked for me:

You’re one of my only girl friends

(guess who?)

And here is a little bit from chapter 6 (!!), drafted on my way home, not even typed into my document yet, it's so fresh:

"I'm sorry I'm not much of a dancer." "That's all right, I hate to dance." "Is that why you accepted this date?" "Oh, Merlin! No!"

No names because it's a secret (and it may change, lol).

sending you whatever luck and blessings you need this week: @facewithoutheart, @thewholelemon, @ileadacharmedlife, @martsonmars, @youarenevertooold, @rimeswithpurple, @aristocratic-otter, @leithillustration, @iamamythologicalcreature, @alexalexinii, @cutestkilla, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @artsyunderstudy, @mooncello, @onepintobean, @emeryhall, @arthurkko, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @monbons, @ic3-que3n, @roomwithanopenfire, @blackberrysummerblog, @bookish-bogwitch

[elodieunderglass]

Submission by @Zorilleerrant How to Write a Novel

When I make bullet point lists, each bullet point tends to be a couple hundred words, so that’s what I optimize for. But! I find writers usually have a consistent average for that, so everyone should tailor their bullet points to their own experiences. Modify all the numbers as necessary. (And be prepared to revamp them as you go. The outline never survives contact with the writing.) Now how do we turn bullet point ideas into a full novel outline?

Alright. Let’s get down to it.

Step 1: A novel is 50k words.

Let’s break this into smaller sections. 50k is a nice even number, so I like to make 5 parts. A 10k section sounds much more manageable; that’s a normal (long) short story! If you have 5 (or ten) short stories that naturally link up into a novel, this is the final part of the outline. Usually I think that doesn’t happen, though. Anyway, write the 5 high level Events, Inciting Incidents, or Arc Developments. (It could be themes or structural points, if that’s what drives your writing forward, it just has to be The Important Things.)

Step 2: What’s the shape of this section?

So we’ve got our major plot point or what have you. Now it’s important to figure out how to set it up and how to knock it down. I generally block this into a timeline of 10 points (because that’s 1k) to begin with, and then add or collapse bullet points as necessary. The first bullet point should be the opening scene or setup, and the last should be the end of the section or the transition to the next part, but in between is just how to get from A to B. The what is important, but I tend to find why is more helpful to answer so I can figure out how to get characters to do things. If you tend to bang out 1k at a time this is the end of the outline!

Step 3: The Devil in the Details

This is where the bullet point granularity really varies. You can break it up into 10 again (100 words each: a drabble!) or even more if you need to. This can be really helpful because at a certain point you just end up translating the Ideas List into Writer Voice, and once you get the narrative tone down it becomes more consistent. But in general you only need a couple bullet points here: the ones absolutely integral to the scene. Maybe there’s part of the setting you need to describe, or an internal monologue, or a reveal. Put them in order.

Step 4: To write it you have to write it, unfortunately.

Each bullet point should be a fairly short writing section, now. Which means getting all the way through one should be doable in a single writing session. If you know how you want to say it, great! If you don’t, imagine describing it to friends, whether that’s in the silliest way possible, or to try to make it intriguing, or anything else. The beauty of the bullet point lists is you can switch between styles, and you’ll remember during editing why there’s inconsistency every few paragraphs. You can sand that off later; just get the words down.

Step 5: Editing

Throw out the outline. I mean, don’t actually throw it out, in case you need to figure out what you were talking about here or there. But try not to the various sections/segments/bullets as hard and fast rules; some of them will need to be broken up, and others smushed together more. Here’s where you look for the natural chapter breaks. You should also look for any missing scenes, or maybe places where a scene needs to be moved earlier or later. You’ll also, unfortunately, find things that just don’t need to be in the final draft. Save them in a different document, in case people want to see the outtakes later.

Congrats! If you get your novel all the way to this point, it’s ready to be sent to other people to look it over and help you polish it up!

Anyway, for people who like outlining, put all your planning in this part. For people who like figuring it out as they go along, only do the top level breakdown for any section you’re not currently writing; leave most of it blank until you get there.

I hope this helps you or someone write a novel!

-- submission by @zorilleerrant

Thank you so much for writing this!

[jose996c]

Home in the Dust

Summery: Javier Peña returns to his family’s ranch in Texas, hoping to escape his troubled past. There, he meets you—his father’s hard-working ranch hand. As old wounds are reopened and sparks fly, a quiet connection grows, offering a chance at redemption and love.

Warnings: Fluff, romance, flirting, mutual pining, slow-burn, Javier’s past, hurt/comfort. Each chapter will have more specified warnings.

Paring: Javier Peña x f!reader

Word count: 1,7k

A/n: sorry this first chapter is so short, I plan on making the others at least 3-5k words <3 i think i'm going to write around 5-6 chapter maybe. Let me know if you have any ideas for the upcomming chapters.

Chapter One: Dust and Leather

The sun beat down with a kind of relentless heat, even in the late afternoon. Texas heat wasn’t just hot—it felt like it had a purpose, like it wanted to push its way under your skin and crawl into your bones. Javier Peña felt it first in the back of his neck, then the dampness seeping into the sleeves of his shirt, the weight of it pressing down even before his boots hit the dirt.

The old Ford coughed once before rattling to a stop in front of the house. Javier sat still for a moment, fingers tight around the steering wheel, staring at the house like it might crack open and give up all its secrets. The place looked smaller than he remembered—diminished, like it had been waiting for him to return but wasn’t sure it still wanted him here. The porch sagged more now, and the shutters were peeling, giving up the fight against time. The oak tree by the corner still stood tall, its branches swaying lazily like it had all the time in the world. Same as always, but not really. Not anymore.

He crushed the cigarette in the ashtray and finally stepped out, boots hitting the dry dirt with a dull thud. Gravel shifted under his weight as he stretched, wincing at the pull in his shoulders. His back was already stiff from the drive. Or maybe just from being alive too long.

A screen door creaked open behind him.

“You look like shit,” Chucho said, his voice dry as dust.

Javier shot a glance over his shoulder, masking the tightness in his chest with a smirk. "You always this happy to see me, Pop, or is this your version of a warm welcome?"

Chucho didn’t bother with a hug. Just leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes squinting against the sun. “You were supposed to be here this morning.”

“Got stuck in San Antonio. Traffic.”

“You stopped at that diner, didn’t you? The one with the bad coffee and even worse bacon.”

Javier didn’t answer, which was answer enough.

Chucho shook his head and waved him in. “Come on. Got someone I want you to meet.”

The sun was beating down hard as Javier followed his father toward the barn, the older man walking with the same determined shuffle he’d always had—slower now, but just as stubborn.

“You still using the same feed supplier?” Javier asked, mostly to fill the silence.

Chucho waved a hand. “Yeah. Got a good deal since she started working here.”

“She?”

“You’ll see.”

The barn door creaked as they stepped inside. You were knee-deep in feed bags, hauling one over your shoulder when you heard the footsteps.

“Hey,” Chucho called. “Got someone I want you to meet.”

You turned, brushing hay from your shirt, and paused when you saw the man standing beside him. The sun from the open door haloed his figure—tall, tan, slightly road-worn, with that weary, watchful look of someone who’d seen too much.

Chucho gestured between you two. Javier gave his father a look, then turned to you and offered a faint nod. “Javier Peña.”

You adjusted your grip on the bag and nodded back. “I figured.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’ve got the same scowl.”

That earned the tiniest smile from Chucho, who leaned against the stall like he was enjoying himself far too much.

You gave Chucho a dry look, then offered your hand to Javier, dust and all. “I’m the one keeping this place from falling apart.”

He took it—his grip firm, warm, a little calloused. “Appreciate that.”

Chucho clapped his hands once. “Good. Then you can help her haul feed before you start thinking you’re here for vacation.”

Javier muttered something under his breath that sounded like ‘Jesus Christ.’ You bit back a grin and handed him a sack.

“Welcome home, Peña.”

You didn’t talk much after that. You handed him tasks, and to his credit, he didn’t complain. He was slower than you, less practiced with where to put his weight, when to pull versus push. But he didn’t give up.

When the horse kicked at him for getting too close too fast, you tried not to laugh. You mostly succeeded.

“Got a hell of a kick on her,” he muttered, rubbing his thigh.

“She doesn’t like strangers.”

“Figures.”

You gave him a once-over. “You really haven’t been back much, huh?”

He didn’t answer.

Didn’t have to.

Later, inside the house, dinner was already on the table—a simple spread of tamales, beans, and sliced tomatoes from the garden. The kitchen smelled like cumin and warm corn, and despite the heat, it was the kind of smell that made your stomach remember how long it’d been since lunch.

Chucho didn’t say much as you all sat down. He handed out plates, scooped food like it was a job, then settled in at the head of the table with a grunt. Javier took the seat across from you, his shirt still sticking to him in places from the work, arms dusted with hay and effort. He looked like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself inside four walls.

You passed him the beans. “You planning on glaring at the food or eating it?”

His lips twitched, just slightly. “Trying to remember if I like beans.”

“You do,” Chucho said flatly. “You just used to drown ‘em in hot sauce.”

“Still do,” Javier muttered, reaching for the bottle beside the salt shaker.

There was a moment of clinking cutlery and chewing. Chucho poured himself a shot of something amber and didn’t offer it to anyone else. The silence stretched—not awkward, but filled with unspoken things. You knew the shape of grief when it sat at the table. This one was worn and familiar, like a guest no one wanted to name.

“So,” Chucho said eventually, “you planning on staying more than two nights this time?”

Javier didn’t look up. “I don’t know yet.”

“Didn’t figure you would.”

You bit into a tomato, letting the acidity keep you from jumping in. This wasn’t your conversation. Not really.

Javier finally met his father’s gaze. “I came back, didn’t I?”

“Doesn’t mean much if your bags stay packed.”

The words landed sharp, and you could feel the weight of them even from across the table. Javier set his fork down and leaned back in his chair, one hand scrubbing over his jaw.

“I didn’t come here to fight, Pop.”

Chucho leaned back too, folding his arms. “Then maybe talk like someone who’s not looking for the nearest exit.”

You stood then, gathering your empty plate. “I’ll get the dishes.”

“No,” Chucho said, not looking at you. “Leave ‘em. Let the man earn his keep.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You want Javier to wash dishes?”

“I hauled feed,” Javier said with a shrug. “Might as well go for the full experience.”

You handed him your plate with a little smile. “Don’t forget the pots.”

He shook his head but took it without complaint. When you passed behind him on your way out, you caught a faint mutter under his breath.

“I’ve been home six hours and already getting bossed around.”

You leaned in just enough for him to hear. “Maybe you need it.”

Outside, the air was cooler, the sun sinking fast. You paused on the porch, listening to the faint sound of water running in the kitchen and the occasional clatter of dishware. After a few minutes, the door creaked open behind you.

The silence between you stretched—not uncomfortable, just thick with heat and dirt and whatever was hanging heavy in Javier’s chest.

“You always this quiet?” you asked eventually.

He glanced at you, expression unreadable. “You always this talkative?”

“Only when someone looks like they might implode from unspoken angst.”

That earned a huff. Could’ve been a laugh, if you were generous.

“I didn’t ask to come back,” he said, eyes on the horizon. “Just seemed like the right thing. Eventually.”

You looked down at your bottle. “He missed you. Even if he’d rather die than say it out loud.”

“I missed him too,” he said, voice low. “But it’s hard coming back to something that doesn’t fit anymore.”

You nodded slowly. You got that. Maybe not in the same way, but enough.

“This place’s like a pair of old boots,” you said. “Tight, dusty, and always giving you blisters. But you learn to live with ‘em.”

Javier turned to you fully, brow raised. “That supposed to be comforting?”

You smirked. “No. But it’s true.”

The cicadas had started up. The air was thick with the scent of hay and warm wood and tobacco smoke from Javier’s shirt. You didn’t lean closer. Neither did he. But the space between you felt charged, like something waiting to spark.

You finished your beer and stood.

“Back to it early tomorrow. Don’t oversleep.”

He looked up at you, eyes sharp despite the exhaustion.

“Was that a threat or an invitation?”

You grinned, just enough to leave him guessing.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

You disappeared into the house, leaving him alone with the quiet creak of the porch and the first stars winking through the darkening sky.

For the first time in a long time, Javier didn’t feel the need to leave.

[andypantsx3]

andie's wips for gaza — ˖˚˳⊹

hi all! i'm not sure if this is something anyone would be interested in but i'm giving it a shot. i have a little capacity to contribute to fics for gaza's option to sponsor a wip. below are a couple of my wips i think i can realistically deliver all or most of before end of year, divided into current wips + a few smutty one shots i hope you might be interested in. if any more of my time clears up i can add more & let y'all know!!

i'm setting the threshold at the standard rate of $1 donation per 100 words, any extra would be sooo incredibly appreciated but obviously not at all required! notes on how this will all work below my wips.

update 5/29 — ˖˚˳⊹

All of my WIPs have been fully funded! I am so deeply grateful to everyone who donated and/or helped spread the word. I promise to work hard and write fics that live up to just how much this means to me. If you still have capacity to donate, I encourage you to check out the other authors participating and help fund their WIPs too. Thank you so much; your generosity means the entire world to me.

current wips — ˖˚˳⊹

something in the water : todoroki shouto x reader

As a future marine biologist, you’ve scored big on your final internship: a summer in the tropics, researching the waters off the coast of a lush, sunny island. But what you thought would be all beach days and piña coladas turns out to be the revelation of a lifetime when you haul in a handsome merprince, and discover not everything in these waters is quite as it seems. — estimated remaining wc: 3 chapters @ 3k each (9,000 total words) — donated wc: 9,000/9,000 words fully sponsored! — progress tracker: 3,800/9,000 words

ready or knot : todoroki shouto x reader

Todoroki Shouto is so unsettlingly beautiful, you’re certain he has to be an omega. That is, until a chance encounter with a pushy alpha reveals you were incredibly mistaken—and the surprises don’t stop there. Shouto's suddenly mystifying behavior adds another layer of complexity to an already confusing inter-agency investigation. It would be so much easier to figure things out—and suppress your growing feelings—if only Shouto would stop being so strangely attentive to you... — estimated remaining wc: 5 chapters @ 2.5k each (12,500 words) — donated wc: 12,600/12,500 words fully sponsored! — progress tracker: 200/12,500 words

new wips (smutty one shots) — ˖˚˳⊹

by the book : midoriya izuku x reader

When your pro hero boyfriend comes home to find you studying, he suddenly takes a great interest in helping out. You find his methods... questionable. contents: nsft, hysterical literature (reading out loud while sexually stimulated), pro hero deku, slight intelligence kink, gn + afab reader, cunnilingus, established relationship, fluff — estimated wc: 2,500 words — donated wc: 2,500/2,500 words fully sponsored! — progress tracker: 3,000/2,500 words completed!

loads of fun : todoroki shouto x reader

After moving into your first apartment together, Shouto seems more amorous than ever. You're not sure why—but when he catches you doing a load of laundry, more than your clothes are about to get tumbled. contents: nsft, pro hero au, domesticity kink, gn + afab reader established relationship, fluff, emotional sex — estimated wc: 2,500 words — donated wc: 2,500/2,500 words fully sponsored! — progress tracker: 2,800/2,500 words completed!

filling in : bakugou katsuki x reader

A production assistant for an erotic arts studio, you think you've seen every ridiculous plot line under the sun. But not even porn tropes can compare to the absurd reality you find yourself in when the on-screen talent goes missing, and you're asked to fill in opposite the studio's number one star Bakugou Katsuki. contents: thee classic oh-no-the-porn-talent-has-gone-missing-let's-sub-a-rando-in trope, no quirks au, pornstar bakugou, soft dom bakugou, gn + afab reader, unrequited-requited crush — estimated wc: 3,000 words — donated wc: 3,000/3,000 words fully sponsored! — progress tracker: 8,200/3,000 words completed!

notes — ˖˚˳⊹

rate: $1 (USD) donation per 100 words, any extra would be sooo incredibly appreciated but obviously not at all required!

how it works (you): send me an ask with the wip you're donating towards and a screenshot of your donation to any fund from this list, a charity of your choice (please make sure it's verified), or my preferred one here! please do not send the same screenshot to multiple authors, and please make sure any personal information is scrubbed from your screenshot as i will be supplying @ficsforgaza with the proof of your donation!! i will aim to update the donated wc section of each wip in this post so there's not overlap in what people are donating for.

how it works (me): i will log my progress below each wip (the progress tracker section of each) & will commit to updating that count weekly. i will work in the rough order of donations received, by adding that number of words to each wip. this also means that for $5 i could add 500 words but not publish until the chapter or oneshot is completed, so please be aware of that!! my goal is to at least publish every single word people have donated for by end of year, but obviously things can happen & i will provide updates if anything gets in the way of that!

if you have any further questions please let me know!! i've never done something like this and it's very probable i've left something unclear lol.

lastly i'd like to thank you in advance for helping out if you can, but no worries if not! i also know times are tough and money is tight, and i'd encourage you to check out the other writers on @ficsforgaza's list of participants when published to see if you'd rather spend your money on one of their wips (or their custom requests!) before selecting mine!! the money goes towards a good cause either way.

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: language, angst, depictions of blood

Chapter Word Count: 3327

—-MDNI—-

A/N: soooo this chapter felt weird to write, but hey I wanted it for the plot to thicken haha. It’s different, but things will feel a bit more normal after this chapter.

——————————————————————

Please read the below:

Prologue Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Chapter 8pt.1

Chapter 8pt.2

Chapter 9 Chapter 10

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 11

By the time I’d passed the security check, introduced myself to the two other girls currently on shift and found my dressing room, the nerves were starting to dissipate. Through each step and each new room I’d entered I was making countless mental notes on every security camera and exit I could see. It wasn’t hard to tell that everyone except the bar and wait staff and the dancers were all vampires - their noses twitching and eyes widening whenever I’d walked past. I was clearly fresh meat - perhaps not in the immediate future, but I’m guessing that as soon as I’d served my purpose in luring unknowing human men to their untimely demise, I’d be next. Or at least kept as a blood bag, and I didn’t know which was worse.

A sharp knock on the door brought me back to reality, the vamp on the other side not even waiting for a reply as he barged in.

“You’re sure taking your time sweet cheeks, everything ok?” His sharp gaze twinkled as he looked at me, as if searching for any sort of vulnerability. I huffed out a final deep breath of nerves before standing straight and forcing a smile, shimmying out of my thick overcoat and throwing it over the back of the chair I was just leaning on. On the revelation of my figure and my outfit he let out a long, low whistle.

“Well don’t you just look good enough to eat?”

I swallowed despite my mouth being dry, trying my best to bring my confidence to the forefront and to ignore what he is.

“Well you wouldn’t be the first to say so,” I almost felt nauseous from having to sound so sweet. “Why don’t you lead the way and show me where I’m supposed to be?”

He didn’t take any convincing as he led me out the room and down a short corridor that was lined with what I’m assuming are other dressing rooms.

“What’s in there?” I asked, my gaze snagging on a metal door that didn’t look like the rest. It looked more like a vault, with an intricate lock system that seemed to need both keys and fingerprints.

“Errrrr, just the boss's office. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about,” he placed his hand on my hair, making me shudder.

“Oh ok… will I ever get to meet the boss?” I asked, tilting my head to the side. Keeping up with this cutie-pie act was going to be more draining than I thought. He stayed quiet for a moment before speaking up, an unsettling look on his face.

“Of course doll face! When the time is right.”

*

About two hours had passed since I arrived at the club and a steady stream of men (occasionally women) was filtering in. I was currently up on a podium and trying not to think too hard about how I should be dancing whilst keeping my eyes peeled on the crowd, every now and then making eye contact with the patrons and blowing them a sickening kiss with a sultry wink. Every time I slipped away for a ‘toilet break’ I'd unlock as many windows and doors as I could find whilst turning security cameras towards the wall. I'd counted around fifteen vampires milling around as I snuck about, and there were definitely more behind that metal door. This place was about as prepared as possible for Sam and Dean to sneak in, so I sent Charlie a text with all the details I had knowing full well she could no longer see me through the cameras she'd hacked into.

I'd been back on my podium for about ten minutes, moving my body to the loud bass of the blaring music under the erotic lighting which glowed all manner of pinks and reds, when the front door opened again to let another patron in. Except this wasn't a patron.

It was Dean.

I cursed under my breath, frowning at him across the dance floor despite the fact he hadn't seen me yet. What the actual fuck was he doing coming in through the front door? I didn't play mission impossible and find countless ways for him to break in just so that he could waltz in, bold as brass and blow our cover. I watched him as he stopped in the centre of the room, illuminated by the lights that cast angular shadows over his rugged face. He was alert, jaw clenched and eyes scouring the crowd until his gaze eventually landed on me. With my arms above my head and gripping the pole behind me he was able to get a good look at what was hiding underneath my overcoat when he last saw me. Eyes glazing over and Adam's apple bobbing, he was instantly ensnared. I focused entirely on him; sinking to my knees and crawling my hands forwards, beckoning him with a single finger to which he eagerly obliged. The older Winchester stood before me, eyes almost sparkling from the lustful lighting as he gaped up at me. His evergreen eyes shone in adoration as they bore into mine, almost completely disregarding the lasciviousness of the rest of my body. It was almost…

Romantic.

I leant forwards, my painted lips brushing against his ear and pulling a shiver from his spine. I could have been mistaken, but I’m sure I heard a groan.

“What the FUCK are you doing here, Dean?”

He blinked, suddenly remembering he was on earth.

“What?”

“The plan! What happened to the plan? You were supposed to go around the back - I made it easy for you to sneak in! This place is well guarded Dean.”

“Yeah well, I wanted to make sure you were- hang on- are you a MAID?” He stepped back to take a better look at me as I sat up, trying not to draw attention to myself for staying still for too long. My eyes rolled on their own accord.

“Dean now really isn’t the tim-”

“Holy crap you’re a maid. You’re a MAID. So there is a God,” he dramatically put his hands together as though in prayer and mouthed ‘thank you’ to the disco ball on the ceiling.

“Dean-”

“Nuh-uh, I’m not letting anyone ruin this for me - not even you. Carry on, pretend I’m not Dean and there aren’t any vamps to kill; just for two minutes,” he settled into one of the chairs in front of my podium, flagging a waitress down for a whiskey in the process. There was no arguing with Dean Winchester, especially when he was ticking something off his bucket list. Grasping the pole behind me I pulled myself to my feet, hooking my leg around it and spinning slowly.

“So, NOT-Dean, where’s not-Sam?”

He took a long sip from his liquor before licking his lips, his eyes transfixed on my thighs.

“He's uhhh…. He's sneaking in through some window round the back.”

“Oh, so like you should be?”

He smirked over the top of his glass, spreading his legs a little wider as he settled further into his chair, his other hand resting in his lap.

“Don't deny a man his pleasures sweetheart.”

A half hearted scoff left my lips before I climbed higher on the pole, leaning back so I was almost upside down, granting Dean the perfect view of my lingerie as my micro-skirt flipped over my belly. Spinning slightly, I caught him adjusting himself in his jeans right as I pulled myself back upright.

“You seem pretty at home in a strip club,” my voice came out more breathy than intended as I moved my body in time with the music.

“I can say the same about you,” he quipped back, dark eyes burning into my exposed skin. Licking the last drop of whiskey from his bottom lip, he placed his glass back on the table before standing; taking long, slow steps towards my podium, the toes of his boots touching the metal. I got down on my knees, bringing myself to his eye level before taking his chin between my thumb and index finger and drawing his bewitched face nearer. We ignored the shouts from security telling Dean he wasn’t allowed to touch as I ghosted my lips over his. I could feel his chest rising and falling in anticipation for a simple kiss, his mouth agape and eyes darting about my features - trying to take all of me in. His restraint snapped and he leant forward, pressing his mouth to mine - hot and needy. A large hand reached up and long fingers wrapped around my wrist, rough skin tickling at my pulse as he guided my hand from his chin to his hair, urging me to grip it. Just as I grasped at its softness he was forced away from me, two of the vamps shoving aggressively at his shoulders and putting some distance between us.

“Keep your hands off the girls! You know the rules,” one of them practically spat out his words to Dean, who in return had a feral look in his eye as I caught his hand inching closer and closer to the blade concealed within his jacket.

“Sorry it was my fault!” I blurted, all eyes now burning into me. “It's my first shift and I forgot I shouldn't let it get that far. Don't blame him, it was me who was too…. encouraging.” I flashed sickly-sweet doe eyes at the vamp sizing up Dean, biting my lip in apprehension before he sighed and let go, shaking his head.

“I’ll let you off this time as you’re the newbie, but don’t let it happen again.”

“Yes’sir!” I tapped my fingers to my forehead in a pretend salute, hearing the fanged ones curse under their breath before walking away, throwing one last warning look at Dean - who looked like the cat that got the cream - before returning to their posts. When I knew that they were definitely out of earshot, I snapped at Dean.

“You could’ve totally blown everything!”

Shrug.

“But I didn’t.”

“Dean, you need to go. Sam is going to be wondering where you are. Find him before you get caught.”

“And what about you?” He chewed his lip, unable to stop his eyes from wandering.

“I’m going to stay here and stick to the plan. I’ll run at the first sign of trouble, so please don’t worry about me,” I sighed, looking down at his puppy-dog eyes.

“(Y/n) I’m always gonna worry about you.”

*

It must have been about twenty minutes since Dean left to find Sam and my heart was pounding in my chest knowing how close they were and the possible danger they were in. I didn’t know what doors they were behind, or how many vamps they’d taken out, and I certainly didn’t know if they were unharmed. My palms felt sweaty on the pole as I danced, making it hard for me to grip and put on a good show. Now was as good a time as any to have a toilet break and grab some coffee. I hopped down from my podium as the song ended and hurried to the back of the club, darting through a ‘staff only’ door to the break room. I poured myself a small cup of coffee, adding an obscene amount of sugar to stop my knees from trembling. I’d barely swallowed my first mouthful when I heard shouts and crashing from down the hall, my fingers instantly loosening from the mug as my high-heeled feet carried me to the door where I peaked out, desperate to know what was going on yet mindful not to be seen. There was no one in the corridor that I could see, yet I checked left and right to make sure I wasn’t being watched before I slipped out, teetering on my platforms as I tiptoed to where I was sure the noise had come from.

It was the metal door.

I poked my head down the corridor where it was located and was grateful to see it unlocked and sitting ajar. Inching closer I could hear a scuffle from within and the sound of heavy bodies dropping like lead to the floor, followed by Sam and Deans unintelligible murmuring. A sigh of relief left my lips when I heard them, knowing it wasn’t their bodies hitting the cold tiles below. That relief froze in my veins however when I heard a third voice speak up. A voice that was smooth like butter. A voice that drew you in with a silky southern accent.

A voice that I knew to be dead.

Hesitation and reasoning left in the dust, I barged forwards and into the room, shoving the metal door wide and startling the Winchester brothers, their eyes widening at my sudden appearance. Before they even had the chance to open their mouths, slow clapping echoed through the ‘old money’ style office, emanating from behind a large mahogany desk.

“And there she is! The star of my show. It’s about time you showed up darlin’,” that southern voice dripped with charisma as a handsome man, around my age, sat in a crisp stone-coloured, three piece suit.

“Hey! Don’t you talk to her, you’re dealing with us,” Dean was quick to bite. The stranger threw him a sharp glare before rising to his feet, his cold gaze landed on me again and burned me through to my very soul.

“Y-y-you’re de-” I started before being immediately cut off.

“I bet you never thought you’d see me again, hm? Especially not like this,” he gestured to himself.

“(Y/n),” Sam’s cautious eyes landed on mine, “how do you know him? He’s a vampire.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but yet again I was interrupted before a sound passed my lips.

“Oh (Y/n) and I go waaaaaaaay back, don’t we darlin’?”

I could see Dean inching closer to me out of the corner of my eye, trying not to draw attention to himself in the process. I opened my mouth to speak again, my lips and tongue feeling dry and numb, like they didn’t want to utter the word about to be spoken.

“Daniel I-”

“BINGO!” He clapped loudly, “she DOES remember her old sweetheart.”

“WHAT!?” Both Sam and Dean spun to look at me with dumbfounded expressions, a whole array of emotions flitting across their features.

“(Y/n) you dated a vamp?” Sam asked, those big eyes of his glistening with concern.

“He wasn’t a vamp when I knew him; he’s supposed to be dead!” I turned from Sam to Daniel, the confusion clearly evident on my face, “you’re supposed to be dead - I watched you die - how are you here?”

A harsh laugh rippled from his chest.

“Paramedic was a vampire sweet-cheeks. He turned me on the way to the morgue after he pronounced me dead at the scene - stroke of genius really. Although,” he paused, walking around the desk to step towards me, the boys reaching for every weapon on their person to have at the ready, “what’s even more genius is that ad we put out for a dancer.”

“What?”

He scoffed.

“You think it’s a stroke of good luck that you just happen to look exactly like the description we posted? Honey I knew from the moment I turned what you and your uncle did for living - the dots seemed to connect all on their own. And I knew that one day - whether now or in a few years - that you or some other hunter you might know would pass through my nest and see it. I knew it would bring you back to me.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, hang on their sparkles; she’s not going anywhere with you,” Dean had pushed his way in between me and Daniel, the eldest Winchester standing a few inches taller than him as they went nose-to-nose.

Daniel grimaced, fangs threatening to show.

“Why is her scent all over you? Don’t tell me you two are involved?”

Dean smirked before I shoved him out the way, his thick fingers protectively wrapping around my wrist as a safety line.

“Daniel I-,” I took a deep breath, “I loved you once. A long, long time ago. But to me, in my world; you died. And I grieved you. God I grieved you for years, and then one day I woke up and my heart didn’t hurt as much anymore. I carried on with my life, the heartache easing a little everyday. Until there was no more heartache - no more pain. I was whole again. Daniel - you’re still dead in my world. Nothing is going to change.”

He reached for my hand but Dean put an arm between us, stopping him in his tracks.

“(Y/n), darlin’, I put that ad out because I still love you. We can still be together - forever. Just let me turn you-”

“Aannnd that’s it loverboy, times up,” Dean pushed me behind him and brandished the hunting blade he’d use to slice my underwear from my body about a week ago on our first hunt together. Right as Daniel bared his fangs and lunged for Dean, I felt another hand grab my arm. I spun and came toe-to-toe with Sam who was quietly beckoning for me to follow him whilst the vampire was distracted. We left the room quietly, running down corridors, twisting and turning and falling through one of the side doors I had unlocked earlier in the night and out into the fresh air. I took a few deep breaths, not realising how much the metallic scent of blood had filled my nostrils.

“Sam what about Dean?! We can't just leave him behind he-”

Sam laughed softly.

“If you want a vamp dead, Dean will always come out on top. He'll be just fine.”

Sam helped me to my feet, looking down at me, his gaze turning from reassuring to questionable. I sighed, weariness starting to settle into my bones.

“I know, I know. I can explain it all later,” I said, starting to shuffle back to the impala, seeking the comfort of its plush leather seats.

“What? No, (Y/n) you don’t owe me an explanation if you don’t want to. I just want to know if you’re ok?”

I stopped and looked up at him, and something about the kindness of his voice and the concern in his eyes had me falling to my knees, my body heaving out a sob. Then another. And another. Until I couldn’t stop for air and hot tears washed my makeup down my face and my hair stuck to the streaks they left behind. Sam simply crouched down and pulled me into him, rubbing my back and telling me softly that everything will be ok. It was a comfort to feel his chin on my head and his heartbeat beneath my fingertips, the steady thrum eventually soothing away my anguish.

I have no idea how long we were sat there for, but he eventually coaxed me to my feet and led me to the car where Charlie was waiting with a pained expression. She would have seen, or at least heard everything that went down through the security cameras linked to her tablet - she was one of the few people in this life that had met my ex.

I was gently manoeuvred into the back seat, my head resting on Charlie's lap as she played with my hair. Sam had waited outside the impala for a few minutes before climbing into the passenger seat, slamming the door closed. Not five minutes had passed when the door slammed again as Dean clambered in, the stench of blood thick on his clothes, however the comforting scent of his cologne still managed to waft through. He turned to face me, those mossy green eyes piercing into mine as he said with the gentlest tone he could muster:

“It’s done, sweetheart.”

——————————————————————

Next: Chapter 12

——————————————————————

@suckitands33 @jackles010378 @aliceeinwonderland420 @tina-theslytherin @deans-queen @hobby27 @sobearcowboy @girls-alias @selfdestructionandrhum @ericasabe @lacilou @littlemadamred @anneanirac @deans-baby-momma @swimregulas @ashdoctor @littlemarvelstan8 @atcamillanorrman @deangirl96 @zannemes @kr804573 @foxyjwls007 @divadinag @cookiemonstermusic258 @mysterialee @ababy-girl @joonseuph0ria @mxltifxnd0m @deans-spinster-witch @st4bl3-ch40s @feyresqueen @roseblue373 @clusterfuck-meup @urinternetmom @rachiem4-blog @ceeshellecee @mojos-hidden-castle @snowayumi @evzyi @mymuseisbipolar @magssteenkamp @koharuheartfilia @spookyysinsanity @safiyas-world @uncle-eggy @happyt0exist @supernaturalstilinski @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mrsjenniferwinchester

[spookypete-94]

Dark Horse-Matching Bands

Chapter 8 (Final Chapter)

PriceXFem!Reader

Reader is a single mother, working double shifts at a restaurant. Father of the child starts to become a problem while reader is at work and Price offers a solution. Slight age gap between reader around 25 and Price around 35.

This is it! This chapter is lots of fluff, happy ending. After this is completed plan on working some more Simon things and then have an idea of returning to this, but writing it through Price's POV. Will be darker in influence than this one however. Think our Captain is a little more selfish then what this story portrays. Kind of like the other half of the coin thing.

Thank you all for taking the time and reading this series, just really wanted to do something sweet. <3 I truly do appreciate this fanbase and its readers.

Adrenaline had worn off by the time you had reached your bed. Body heavy like someone had tucked concrete into it making relief fill you by the time you had hit your pillow. After it all, you really thought sleep was going to be hard… but honestly it was the easiest that had been delivered to you all night.

In fact, when you woke up in the morning, you felt so far out of it. Honestly, you probably could have slept for another 5 hours. Finally forcing yourself to come to, you realized it was your phone vibrating on the nightstand. Quickly picking it up, you palmed it until it answered.

“Mornin’, lovie.” Your heart mended and melted at the voice.

“John.”

“How’d you sleep love?”

“Honestly… not terrible.”

“Best you have in a while, huh.” He had wanted it to sound like a question, but instead it came out as a matter-of-fact statement. You both know why you slept so well. You had no reason to fear anymore. Your biggest fear was dead.

“Yeah… How’s Abel?”

“Still sleepin’, him, Johnny and Kyle stayed up late telling ghost stories.” There was a joke hidden somewhere in there, sleep just kept it hidden from you.

“He catch any fish?” You asked instead.

“He did, learned to clean them too. Had a proper day of teaching with him.”

It made you smile. The idea of Abel spending time with a male figure that was teaching him real life lessons.

“Good.”

“I’ll have him call you when he wakes up. Think you should probably go make a cuppa’ and turn the news on for now love.” A hint. An order what had been done last night.

“Ok, see you in a while John.”

Finally doing what he advised, you sat with a cup of coffee in your hands steam still rising off the top. The remote was on the table in front of you, parallel with the TV.

It seemed so far away and the thought of picking it up to turn the TV on almost too heavy for you. Like the concrete from last night had returned all at once. A heavy breath in, you reached for it, powering it on and flipping on the news.

The very first headline BODY HAS BEEN FOUND.

Instantly, you shut your eyes, seeing the murder scene all over once again in your small bathroom. Forcing them back open, you watched. Listening intently while the newscaster explained that a male body had been found in an alleyway after what looked like a bar fight gone wrong.

The face was so mangled from a beer bottle they assumed; they were having a hard time identifying the victim. Your heart pounded so loudly, Blood trying to reach your head filling your ears, rushing like an ocean and beating like a drum. You had done this. You had destroyed any facial recognition of him… all by your hand. The thoughts came in like a flood. The father of your child. What kind of monster were you?

A loud knocking on your door brought you back, making you jump and spill coffee down the front of John’s shirt. Quickly jumping up to look through the peephole, two officers stood waiting. Like the good girl you were, you opened the door for them.

“Morning Ma’am, may we come in?” They politely asked. Giving a wide birth on the door, you obliged.

“We’re here to notify you of some news…”

Afternoon had rolled around. You sat outside waiting for their vehicle to pull up. John had kept his promise to you, and Abel had called you shortly after the officers left. After Abel had passed the phone back to your husband he asked about your visitors. Finding it strange that you had not told John about the officers stopping by yet to give you a death notification, you still told him about it.

 One of the officers had known John, his name Alex Keller, a detective for the force. Alex had called you by your maiden name, politely you corrected him and explained how you were freshly married, what your new name was and who you married.

“Have known John for a long time. Good man.”

Maybe Alex had called John to let him know he met you and what had happened…

Seemingly they asked a few questions about your personal life with your ex. How long you had known him, how you had known him. The basic stuff. News to you however, your ex had been estranged from his family for years now. He had no relationship with them whatsoever. They had tried to reach out to his parents, but they had cut him off due to behavioral problems. How ironic his own knew what kind of person he was and chose to do nothing about it. All the officers were looking for was a few answers and a place to do a proper death notification.

“Do you see it possible that he could have been in involved in a bar fight?”

“Yes,” you honestly nodded.

“Did he have anger problems?”

“Yes.”

From there you told the tale of the physical and verbal abuse from the very beginning… all the way to his untimely end.

“Well Mrs. Price, we are sorry for your loss. At this time, it is still under investigation, but it appears to us that he was involved in a bar fight. Was attacked with a beer bottle and then strangled. His wallet was left behind with his ID, but nothing else in it. It looks to be a murder and mugging. Here’s our contact if you need anything else from us.”

It seemed so routine for them, like they had expected this outcome from you already. The innocent baby momma rid of the evil that plagues her and her child. Towards the end, it was like someone had held up a seashell to your ear. You could hear the conversation… but it was like they were so far away at the same time. Shock was settling in. Thankfully it wasn’t long after that, they had left your humble abode. Pleasantries exchanged and not even a suspect on the list…  How was this possible?

And there you sat on the porch, waiting in a chair outside… Counting your lucky stars you were not placed in a jumpsuit behind bars. Still wearing the guilt all the same. Your happiness finally arriving on 4 wheels as a little boy jumped out to greet you.

“Mom!”

John had stopped to pick up dinner. Your favorite to try to cheer you up and thank you for letting him go on a trip shortly after you were married.

Finding the words finally at the dinner table, you explained to him to the best of your ability about his father passing.

Abel took it in stride. Yes, he was hurt and disturbed someone could do this his father, but he was the sweet boy you had raised after all. Abel did start asking a few questions, where John thankfully took over for you. He could tell it was hard for you to lie to Abel about what had really happened. It was something you would never ever tell him, wanting to take it to your grave now. John and his boys being the only ones who knew what had happened. Of course, none of them saw the sin in it like you did, they only saw justice. Simon, in fact telling you once that if was not you that really killed him, it was Ghost himself that had. Like it was a joke, trying to make you feel better. All it could do was place a sad smile on your lips.

“Worlds better of without him.” John had grumbled into your ear once you were both settled into bed, hand rubbing up and down your sides. That was the moment you tried to explain to John, it was not the fact that it was the man that had hurt you over and over since you were a teenager, but the fact it was a human life in general.

“Happens every day. Eventually bad behavior is answered one way or another.”

“But it makes me bad too.” You argued in a whispered hiss to him.

“No, it makes you a mother willing to defend what is hers. You really expect me to believe that you were goin’ to let him take you away from Abel and I? He paid his consequence. We could have worked it out like adults.” His hand had found your ring finger on your left-hand stroking over his mother’s band, something he seemed to do when you or he needed soothed.

Reaching for his hand, you realized it had a wedding band in return. Pulling it up out of the sheets glancing at it, knowing you had not given him one yet. It was opal on set in gold that matched yours.

“Had it made with the stone that Abel got on his field trip. The maker rushed it for me so we could match.”

“It’s pretty…” you whispered, holding it up yours. Husband and Wife finally made whole. Married for convenience for you, convenience you would ironically not need any more since your ex was dead.

It wouldn’t change anything for you though, you would pick John over and over in this lifetime and the next. He had shown you loyalty and love in a time and place no other stranger would… Except the other three of John’s that made it clear they envied their Captain that is. Who knew a group of men could care so much for a woman in dire need of it. Perhaps soldiers made the best lovers when created correctly? Who knew.

Life had changed so much in just a few years. Thinking back, you had always just pictured yourself working and slaving away at the diner. Yes, you were grateful for it, but a part of you would always want more for yourself and Abel. Here it finally was. In a new strong and sturdy house John had built for you. Working part time at the diner now, home at night with Abel and John. Sometimes John would be gone for months at a time, not always able to communicate with you either. Worry sometimes would fill your mind, but he always found his way back to you.

On one of his returns, he had given you a child. Now round with his seed, ready to pop he sat with you at the hospital. This time was entirely different. Instead of having to do it alone here John was with you. Not able to go to every appointment, he at least made the milestone ones. When worry and panic would rise within you from the pregnancy, he would quell it down. Thumb rubbing across your wedding band making you reach for his to do the same. Life was perfect. Honestly it left you confused on what exactly you had done to deserve such an outcome, but maybe if you didn’t question it, whatever greater force was out there would let you keep it.

Being thankful rewarded you with a healthy, beautiful little girl, a branch off John’s tree. Her bright blue eyes identical to his with his heavy brown locks. After all John had given you, you let him name her. A man of pattern and devotion, he named her after his mother. Sarah. So here you sat… babe bundled into a blanket in a rocking chair watching John and Abel out in the yard. No longer haunted, you were protected and loved. More importantly though, Abel and Sarah would be defended for their childhood. Something that was not provided to you or John.

Life is good.

Masterlists

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Taglist:

@cutiecusp @angeldemon28 @simplyymee98 @beebeechaos @cadotoast @talooolaaloolla @lhhlver @hon3y-cloud @spktrgantenk @generalruinsexpert @freshlemontea @hearmesingoutfromthelostandfound

[deezee112]

The worst ending 3 : Shattered Perfection

The worst ending 2 | The worst ending 4

Yandere!Deuce Spade x GN!Reader

A/N : I'm back!! I'm sorry for posting so late, I just got back from camp which was so torturous😭 And I'm writing chapter 5, the draft is almost done. I've been feeling quite inspired to write lately.

My inspiration came just a few weeks ago...

Warning : This story contains themes of emotional dependency , accidental death , intense guilt , and grief , The narrative explores a tragic , It doesn't have any yandere content but it's so sad. I'm sorry, little one 😭😔

Tags :

@iris-arcadia

If you want me to tag you please tell me.

English is not my first language.

You stared at the lifelike doll before you, its glassy eyes a mirror of uncertainty, as if reflecting the internal debate waging within you. Crowley's words echoed in you head " Raise this child, and you may find purpose in your mundane life! "

It wasn't purpose you sought—your always been a driven individual. But something about this child, sitting there so quietly, had tugged at you heartstrings in a way you couldn't explain. You stern, sarcastic nature wavered for just a moment.

Finally, you sighed. “ Alright, fine. I’ll do it. ” you muttered. “ But don’t expect me to be some doting mother figure. ”

As you reached out to the doll , it blinked , startling you. It was alive in every sense of the word. The doll no the boy—looked at your with wide, curious eyes , as though silently asking, What now?

“ I’ll name you...Deuce. ” you said finally. The name felt fitting somehow simple, yet strong.

Raising Deuce wasn’t easy. From the moment he began to walk and talk, it became evident that his emotions often got the better of him. His anger flared like a wildfire over the smallest inconveniences: a misplaced toy, a frustrating lesson, or even you own sarcastic quips.

“ Deuce, I said no! You can’t have ice cream for breakfast. ” You said one morning, you tone sharp but not unkind.

“ But why not?! ” Deuce shouted, stomping his foot. His cheeks flushed red, and his tiny fists clenched at his sides.

“ Because I said so. ” you crossed you arms, you calm demeanor masking you frustration.

Deuce glared at your, his temper simmering just beneath the surface. For a moment, you thought he might lash out physically. Instead, he stormed off to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Later, he returned, his head bowed and his small hands clutching the hem of his shirt. “ I’m sorry, Y/n.. ” he said softly. “ I didn’t mean to get mad. ”

You crouched down to his level, placing a hand on his shoulder. “ It’s okay, Deuce. But you need to learn to control that temper of yours. You can’t let your emotions get the best of you. ”

�� I’ll try. ” he promised, his big, earnest eyes filled with determination.

“ Good ” you said, rubbing his head.

Despite the challenges, You and Deuce formed a bond stronger than you ever anticipated. You saw past his outbursts to the kind hearted boy beneath. He tried so hard to be good, often scribbling little apology notes after his tantrums or offering to help with chores.

One evening, after a particularly rough day, Deuce came to you holding a small bouquet of wildflowers he’d picked from the park. “ These are for you. ” he said shy, his cheeks tinged pink.

You raised an eyebrow but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “ Flowers, huh? Trying to butter me up so I’ll forget you broke my coffee mug this morning? ”

Deuce looked down, fidgeting with the stems. “ I just...wanted to make you happy... ”

You heart softened. “ Thanks, Deuce. They’re beautiful. ”

In moments like these, you forgot he was just a doll a creation meant to mimic life. To you, he was simply Deuce, the boy who wanted so desperately to do right by you.

It was a stormy afternoon when everything went wrong. you had been working from home, typing away on you laptop while Deuce played with his toys in the living room. The thunder rumbled ominously outside, and rain lashed against the windows.

“ Deuce, be careful with that ” You called, noticing him swinging a wooden sword dangerously close to the lamp.

“ I’m a knight! I have to protect the kingdom! ” he declared, oblivious to you warning.

“ Deuce, I mean it— ”

Before you could finish, the lamp toppled over, shattering on the floor.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of you nose. “ Deuce! What did I just say? ”

His face crumpled, anger and guilt warring within him. “ I didn’t mean to! It’s not my fault! ”

“ Deuce, calm down— ”

“ I’m not a bad kid!! ” he yelled, tears streaming down his face. He lashed out, kicking at the shards of glass in frustration.

“ Stop! ” You shouted, grabbing his arm to pull him back.

But in his flurry of emotions, Deuce twisted away from you grip, flinging his arm out and that’s when it happened.

The sharp edge of a broken shard sliced through the air, catching you across you neck.

Your eyes widened in shock as you stumbled backward, your hands instinctively flying to you throat. Blood seeped through you fingers, dark and warm.

Deuce froze, his anger evaporating in an instant. “ y/n..? ” he whispered, his voice trembling.

You sank to the floor, you vision blurring. “ It’s...okay, Deuce... ” you managed to choke out, though you voice was barely audible.

“ No! No, no, no! ” He dropped to his knees beside you, frantically trying to stop the bleeding with his small hands. “ I didn’t mean to! I didn’t mean to hurt you! Please don’t go! ”

The minutes stretched into eternity as Deuce sobbed beside you lifeless body. His hands were stained with you blood, and his mind raced with a thousand regrets.

“ I didn’t mean to... ” he kept repeating, rocking back and forth. “ I didn’t mean to hurt you... ”

The house felt unbearably silent without you presence. Deuce wandered from room to room, clutching the wildflowers he’d given you days ago. They were wilted now, their petals falling apart, but he couldn’t bear to let them go.

He replayed their last conversation over and over in his mind. If only he had listened. If only he had controlled his temper. If only...

One evening, Deuce sat at the dining table, staring at a crumpled piece of paper. It was one of the notes he’d written for you, a simple “ I’m sorry... ” scribbled in childish handwriting.

“ I’ll be better. ” he whispered, as though she could still hear him. “ I’ll be good...I promise.. ”

He placed the note on you empty chair, along with the last flower from the bouquet.

“ I’m sorry, y/n.. ” he said softly, tears streaming down his face. “ I’ll never forget you.. ”

[wings-of-ink]

Update Progress and Things to Look Forward to

Hello everyone! I hope you are safe and well.

Chapter 5 is coming right along. My goal is to still have it out by the end of November, but the way the last couple of weeks have been for me, we might hit a little delay into the first week of December.

And do not worry, because I know some of you will, I'm good. It's just been busy this month. I've had a friend going through a hard time who's needed a hand up, and I've also needed to work overtime at my daytime gig. My friend is doing better now and I won't need to do more overtime again until sometime in mid-December.

I will not say that the chapter will for sure be delayed, though. This coming week I have extra time off from work (and there was much rejoicing), and I am hoping to dedicate more of it to finishing the final segments of the chapter. And then, I just have to fuse all the individual segments together and do as much proofreading as I can before I deem it "good enough for now" and publish it.

This chapter is a big one, lol. But, I didn't want to cut it short since it is an important section where you learn a lot, grow a bit, and connect with your crew (and maaaaaybe get into some big trouble).

I still have a couple short scenes to flesh out, and then a bigger finale, which I am so excited to finally write!

I'll go ahead and note that saves will almost definitely be broken - again. I had a few things that I did not anticipate before and had to make some coding changes for the earlier chapters. On the plus side, I also figured out where I went wrong with the fonts, so that should be fixed at least.

I will be opening up the Patreon with the release of Chapter 5 if anyone is interested! We'll start out with a couple tiers and grow from there. Both main tiers will focus on extras and early chapter releases - so expect POVs, drabbles, and spicy things.

In December, I'd like to release a couple extras both publically and in the Patreon, but I won't spoil any of that now so I can tease you with it later.

In the more distant future, I plan to create a way to skip chapters so you don't need to speedrun to get to new content. I will take more time to get Chapter 6 out so I can fine-tune a few things for all the previous chapters as well. I'm hoping to get them more smoothed out with a good deal of copyediting.

Reaction-style asks are still paused, but if you have general questions/recommendations/comments, send them my way!

There are many adventures ahead, my friends!

Take care, everyone! Stay safe! ^_^

As a treat, there's a semi-spoilery (kinda not really???) sneak peek below!

Hmmm...who are you with and why is your friend watching you so close???

[anthorius]

Where do we go from here? Chapter 1

Sevikaxfem!reader

Summary: Sevika finds herself being summoned to Piltover for a very serious proposal.

(This chapter is a lot of filling in the blanks around the end of S2)

It's also on my A03

A/N: Okay so... this is my first fic ever. My deep obsession with this older butch has possessed me into writing. So please give me some grace lol

I for sure have 5 chapters planned, all started just not fully fleshed out. If this gets received well, and I get the courage and don't cringe at my own writing I MIGHT try a smut chapter for 6. Idk for now.

So with that said, the OC I have set for this story is named Ivy. I will try to stick to she/her for the most part so anyone can fill it in with their character's name/ whatever. This first chapter is mostly a lot of filling in the gaps post S2. I also went down an Arcane/LoL rabbit hole trying to figure out the mapping of Zaun, if you haven't looked it up it's broken into 3 parts. The upper level closest to Piltover is called Promenade, the middle is Entrasol (where most of the show takes place), and the lower level is called the Sump.

There will be a brief sweet baby Isha mentioned ((I fully choose to believe that theory about one of the Noxian spears in the bg of the show was holding her helmet))

The summons was brief, the timing suspicious after everything that’s happened, and as she entered council member Shoola’s office, the air felt full with an unspoken weight.

Walking into the spacious circular room flooded with light from tall windows, her footsteps echoed faintly on the tiled floor. At the heart of the space was a grand desk in which Councilor Shoola sat behind. Approaching, Sevika took one of the chairs facing her. 

“Good afternoon Sevika, I do appreciate you coming all this way to meet with me. Oh, would you like any refreshments? I can have someone-”

“Let’s just get to why I’m here, thank you.”

“Straight to the point, I can respect that.”

As she turned to grab a thick folder off her desk she began to explain why Sevika’s presence was requested. 

Apparently Shoola had been in contact with Caitlyn before her departure with Vi. The long drawn out conversation about this very moment finally coming to fruition. And from the sounds of things, it sounded like this was more so Vi’s proposal than Cait’s. 

Days after the fighting had stopped, when the dust finally had some time to settle, she found herself finally having some time to think, to grieve, to unpack. The pill was hard to swallow but Vi had begun the process of breaking down the facts that she’d been pushing down and ignoring for years. She couldn’t help but finally recognize that Sevika had always stood for Zaun. Her initial falling out with Vander wasn’t quite truly a betrayal, she hadn’t realized just how badly those childhood feelings skewed her vision back then. Vi saw first hand just how strongly her father had prioritized his children, even if it mean pushing the fate of Zaun to the backburner. It took time but she was finally starting to understand the complexity and nuance of it all, nothing was ever really that black and white. And with this revelation she decided to talk to Caitlyn about proposing a council spot for Zaun.

It had to rebuild anyway, and there were only two living members of the original council left and one was off with the Noxian army. This is the perfect opportunity to try and start making a change. And Caitlyn couldn’t find it in her to disagree, whether she liked it or not she couldn’t help but think about just how firmly her late mother believed the people of Zaun had rights, and the right to be heard was more than overdue.

This led them to presenting this idea to Shoola, who surprisingly agreed. She’d explained to the pair that post-battle,  during the honoring ceremony held in Piltover, Sevika insisted on being the holder of the flame in representation of the people of Zaun, and it wasn’t a question. They’d been in contact only a few times briefly but she had to agree, each time they spoke Sevika always carried herself as if she was already in a position of leadership. She shared the risk and fought right alongside her people til the very end. Her commitment was commendable. And by the end of the visit a decision was made between the three. 

Shoola was to request a meeting and present the council seat position to Sevika. After everything there wasn’t any reason to continue to act as if the people of Zaun, who came up and fought alongside their oppressors to keep their region from being usurped, deserved to get shoved back in the dark. Unheard and cast aside, no, that was seemingly over now.  And once Sevika was properly caught up on the matter Shoola proceeded to hand her over the weighty folder. She made sure to let her know that she doesn’t have to give an immediate answer, this proposal was a lot to take in. And with that Shoola gave her a line of contact that would reach her office for when she’d made up her mind and bid her adieu. 

But Sevika had a hard time believing this was the only reason the position was created. She could see through the polite demeanor.  Yes of course it was about time for some real tangible progress to be made for Zaun, but she saw it in Shoola’s eyes, the idea of anything like this happening again had these topsiders shaken to their core. 

Just because they were allowing Zaun to be heard now didn’t mean that wasn’t without a condition. This whole situation only proved to show they need to keep a better eye on Zaun. Make sure another Jinx or Victor never happens again. She knows they think Zaun could no longer be left unsupervised. The sugar-coated offer was almost insulting but she would be out of her mind to decline. So despite the heavy presence that loomed, Sevika left Shoola’s office with that thick folder filled with documents about the proposal, the position, and all that follows it.

Which lead her to now, in her quiet little shit box she called home, sprawled across a very worn in couch. The folder tossed on an end table. Her head had been throbbing nonstop since the battle ended, a dull, relentless ache that seemed to echo the exhaustion buried deep in her bones. 

But even with this little glimmer of hope that was just barely peeking through in the form of this offer, she couldn’t find it in herself to feel even a flicker of joy. The mere act of closing her eyes only forced the memories back, ripping her from any potential feeling of peace. 

… 

…

…

She found out about Isha’s death the hard way. She had made her way down to the Sump level of Zaun after hearing about all the commotion that happened. There were so many spears embedded in the ground. And as she took in what was left of the carnage her eyes met a single Noxian spear, and sat upon it a concaved child’s mining helmet, adorned in faded colors and scribbles. And in that moment she felt like she couldn’t breathe, the wind knocked out of her from recognition.

Her legs collapsed under her, the weight of everything pressing her into the floor. For a moment, she didn’t move, didn’t even try. The world around her blurred, reduced to a quiet hum in the background...

…

She didn’t know how much time had passed til she finally came back into herself, and forced her body to move. She’s seen countless die in her years and although her hand’s weren’t clean, she was so tired of seeing death everywhere she went. But she had to keep going, slowly she pushed herself up and started walking. The grief of Isha followed by the new stress of not knowing where Jinx was shadowed her all throughout her treck back to Entrasol. But she knew she couldn’t just drop everything to look for her. 

And before she could even give the idea any more thought she’d heard someone call out to her. 

“There you are!” the sound of relief in Scar’s voice was hard to miss.

Turning to face him she gave a quiet nod of acknowledgment. 

He jogs up to her catching his breathe, “You need to come with me. Ekko is missing.”

Shaking her head in disbelief, “What? What do you mean missing he’s your leader?” 

“The ground team hasn’t seen him lately, everyone’s scheduled to meet in an hour to go over the plan but I haven’t heard back from him or any of the other sky riders.”

“I need you to come back with me to the hideout so we can adjust the plan accordingly”, he urged.

Of course everything was going to shit, the most crucial fight of their lives was about to happen and people are just vanishing.

“Lead the way” and so Scar guides her back down to the firelights hideout. 

Finally making their way through the maze of a tunnel system they arrived. The welcoming sight of that magnificent tree greeted them. But as they walked forward that initial awe had been replaced by the shock of just how many citizens the firelights had managed to hide away here. 

“Before he dipped he had everyone go out and gather any sick, elderly, kids, you name it." He looked at just how much the crowd had grown. “We’re beyond capacity but he said not to turn anyone away.” 

As they spoke and navigated through the crowd one of the younger Firelight members ran up to them, a younger boy couldn’t have been older than 16 running around with one hell of a mop on his head. 

“Scar we got word from the sky riders, they should be here shortly!” 

“Any word about Ekko?”

“No, not yet. They just said they’d recap once they landed”

“How long ago was that call?” 

“Just a few-” before he could even finish the unmistakable hum of hoverboards echoed through the higher tunnels. Scar threw his hand up to wave one down and immediately the owl masked vigilante made their way over to land.

“Please tell me you know where Ekko is.” 

The was rider rushing to pull her mask and headgear off.

“He found Jinx! He got her to join in on the fight!”

The immediate relief of hearing that kid was still alive allowed her to finally release some of the tension she’d been unconsciously holding in her body.

“They’re planning something even bigger for the diversion! He said he’d reach out to us soon but everything is still set to go as planned. And you guy’s can start readying the ground team for the sneak attack. They’re not gonna know what hit em!” the enthusiasm beaming off of this kid was almost contagious.

“Thank Janna, finally some good news.” Scar exhaled. 

She couldn’t help but be feel a little recharged at the positive turn of events. “You heard ‘em, start gathering all of the firelights. I’ll get the others in Entrasol” she commanded before taking off. 

She found her body was compelled to move a little faster now, things were finally starting to come together, all of Zaun was on the same page for the first time. The smallest spec of hope began to bloom in her gut. And she couldn’t help but realize she hadn’t felt that in years.

….

….

…

She pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers, her eyes squeezing shut as if the simple gesture could stop the flood of memories working their way back up. She didn’t want to think about everything that happened after that…

But there she lay, her home remained too quiet, the kind of quiet that left no room to hide from her thoughts. 

As she sat up she grabbed the folder and looked the folder over in her hand. The weight of the decision settled into her chest. This was it, there was no other option. 

[siolixz]

~ Veils of Crimson ~

Chapter 2

Pairings: oz cobb x reader (Carmine Falcone's daughter)

<chapter1> <chapter3> <chapter4> <chapter 5: part 1>

Reader is the daughter of Carmine Falcone and upon her late father's demise, she is obligated to return home after 5 years to face her past. I edited some things, like Sofia being in Arkham only 5 years instead of 10. Hopefully y'all like it, again no smut, remember, good things come to those who wait (not for too long bcs im obsessed with writing about this man ughbhghgy)

Again, I took my inspo from Driving Miss Falcone by (https://www.tumblr.com/genevievedarcygranger here on tumblr), check out the story if you can.

Enjoy, give feeback if u want xoxo.

Warnings: mature language, smut (not in this chapter sorry AGAIN), general horniness.

“I wanted to tell you that tomorrow night I will be unavailable from 4 PM to 7 PM; your sister has requested me.”

Sofia was a very kind person; that much you knew. Your sister rarely did anything to hurt you or anyone else for that matter. So why on earth would she take Oz away for a few hours? Was she planning on telling him about your feelings? She wouldn’t. Maybe your smartass remarks finally caught up to her, maybe she wanted to teach you a lesson.

No, it’s okay, you’re going to be okay. Oz is a trustworthy guy, someone your dad depends on to take care of one of his most special treasures: you.

“Why?” you asked. You didn’t mean to make it sound so sharp; you weren’t mad, really, just curious.

“I’m sorry, but she said I couldn’t tell anyone.” He kept his eyes on the road ahead but glanced at you in the rearview mirror; his gaze was soft.

“Okay, if that’s what she said, it seems I’ll have to ask her.” You hated things not going your way, especially if Oz was hiding things from you. You two were supposed to be close, even if you were acting like a spoiled brat right now. If any other member of the staff had acted like this with you- it would have been a different story.

The next day, from morning until late evening, you tried to shake the uneasy feeling that your sister was gone to do something she was not supposed to. Either way, it was something very important. When you asked her, she quickly said it was none of your business and that you shouldn’t worry; she would get your driver back as soon as possible.

Something was definitely up. She took Oz with her when she had two other drivers. Maybe it was because Oz was intimidating; that huge scar on his face couldn’t have appeared there because he was a nice guy, and he wasn’t going to hesitate if push came to shove.

Tomorrow was your dad’s birthday party, and you had the most beautiful dress prepared: a gorgeous, short, white dress paired with the most stunning custom-made Louboutin heels, also white—a gift from your dad on your 18th birthday.

You knew tomorrow was going to be full of remarks like, “Oh my God, I haven’t seen you in SUCH a long time!” “I cradled you when you were just a widdle baby!” “How beautiful you have become!” Being the center of attention wasn’t so bad now; I mean, you were the baby of the family, and everyone doted on you.

The Falcone mansion was a very, very big house, full of rooms and bathrooms, and it was sometimes hard to figure out who came and went. As you rested on your family sofa in the living room, waiting to be welcomed in by your father in his office, you heard those familiar footsteps you knew so well. 

It was hard not to know who he was; that leg of his became harder to move late in the evening. You discovered this by literally dragging him with you into every shop that piqued your curiosity. From early afternoon until late evening, you were on the “prowl,” as your sister liked to say at family dinners—from meeting the daughter of X and Y in I-don’t-know-what shop to trying on a multitude of dresses, shoes, and accessories. He never told you, but you were sure it hurt him as well; still, Oz never showed any signs of discomfort or pain. He was always ready with a smile or a funny remark.

When you saw him, he had his jacket removed, and you noticed the way his belly pushed against his dress shirt. A few buttons were undone at the upper part of his torso, giving you a full look at the hair there. His tie was gone as well. You knew his shift was done; clearly, Sofia had dismissed him.

You immediately jumped off the sofa and went to say hi to him. He was clearly surprised to see you, especially in your pajamas. You also forgot about the attitude you were supposed to have. What was all that about anyway?

“Hi Oz, what are you doing here?”

He said he wanted to talk to your dad. What was up with all this secrecy? Did they think you were too stupid or naive to have a say or an opinion? When you asked what it was about, he said it was just some business stuff, nothing too important. You two could talk outside if you wanted; he wasn’t allowed inside the house after all.

“Okay, whatever.” It was hard not to get annoyed at both of them. You hadn’t even seen or talked to your sister. Did she even come home?

He must have been in there for about thirty minutes, but finally, he came out. Outside, he lit a cigarette and asked if you were cold, he could get you his jacket-forever the gentleman. You said no, the last thing you wanted to do was push him like that. You asked again about your sister and he didn’t want to tell you, again, saying it wasn’t right to your sister. Ok, now you really had to find out and with your heart beating a thousand beats per minute, you got even closer to him. The smell of his cologne, the one he always wore, left a trail wherever he went—a sort of flamboyance he allowed himself- the only one he was allowed in the chains of his current position. The smell of the cigarette mixed with it wasn’t the most pleasant, but whatever; it smelled like him.

“Please, Oz, I just want to know. Everyone always keeps me in the dark. You’re my friend—well, I consider you my friend—just tell me. Don’t be like the rest of them because you aren’t.” You looked at him with the most pained expression you could muster at that hour, your voice breaking-low enough to be a whisper

 “Doll, I—listen—” he started.

“Please, Oz, you're my driver, and you’re supposed to be by my side. I was kind to you; I always told you everything. I made sure my dad gave you all those bonuses for walking around with me.” You paused. “Please?” He looked at you like you were in hospice before saying:

“Okay, Jesus, um, your sister went to a journalist, that lady who came after her when you were off sulking in the car. She met up with her today—”

“What?” you interjected.

He inhaled deeply before continuing, “Something about your dad and some hookers at the club. Apparently, they died or something. Your sister was interested in whatever that woman had to say, nothing more.”

“Oh—”

“Oh, exactly. Now don’t go telling your brother or something—”

“Dad has hookers at the club?”

He looked at you, dumbfounded. “Y-yeah, I guess. Anyway, it is nothing you should concern yourself with, ya know?” You didn’t respond, lost in thought. How could she have been so stupid?

“Hey, hey—” he lowered his head to catch your big eyes, so full of things to say, a million thoughts running behind them. “Look at me. It’s going to be okay. Where do you want to go tomorrow?”

“I don’t know,” you said.

“C’mon, you gotta think about something. Until your dad’s birthday in the evening, we gotta go somewhere. There’s this new restaurant that opened up; I heard only good things about it—” How could she have been so careless? “Something with C—ugh, I can’t remember right now.”

“Okay, tomorrow we go. You have a nice night, Oz,” you said. “Take care of yourself.”

“Alright, you too. Sleep tight,” he said, a bit surprised at your quick dismissal of him. You knew that, but you had to think.

This was huge, like actually huge. If your dad found ou—Why was Oz visiting your dad?

The birthday party was the same as every year: all the family got together to have material for gossip later on in the day and hate each other just as much as they did when they were away. You never went with Oz to that restaurant because, frankly speaking, you were scared shitless. Your dad loved you and your siblings you knew that, in his own way, and he would never endanger any of you.

When your dad called Sofia into his office and she got all excited to give him his birthday present, you never would have thought in a million years that the night would end with her being picked up by the police. Alberto called you in a frenzy that night, his voice shaking with anger. You knew—your dad let this happen. This arrest was made on his grounds, on his territory—why? How?

When you visited your sweet sister, everyone still believed she was going to go home. This was just Dad’s way of scaring her, maybe to teach her a lesson—the most important one he had been repeating all your lives: DO NOT SPEAK TO THE PRESS.

Her lawyer was very, very expensive, and yet not even she could save her. You thought she was going to jail. No, she was going to Arkham for six months until she would be judged. Based on the false accusations that she hanged those sex workers at your dad’s club. What? Now that was actual insanity. She started yelling that Dad set her up, that he killed all those women—he killed their mom too. This was a lot to process. Your heart was beating out of your chest seeing the person who you thought was the most calm and collected person freak out, and rightfully so, because police officers took her away in like five minutes.

It all happened too fast, way too fast for this to be okay.

What sort of judge allows this to happen?

You knew it was his fault. He did this. Upon arriving back home, you were a wreck. How could you look your dad in the eye again?

One thing you knew for sure: you never wanted to see Oz again.

And your wish came true! Because your darling sweet daddy sent you far, far away, abroad, because he didn’t want to deal with you either, you presumed. He sent you to France, where a large part of your mom’s family lived.

You never learned French, but now was apparently the time. Your aunt and uncle lived quite well over there and even if they didn’t really keep in touch with you over the years, they accepted you with open arms. They had a large villa in the south, a pool outside, the beach was one hour away, two dogs that would run around and make your days better.

 But how could your days be good when your sister was in a looney bin, thrown in there like a rag, used and discarded? Your days were spent calling Alberto, asking about Sofia. You made sure he told her you loved her, that you asked about her, and that you two were going to get her out of there. Every year, Al told you she started losing herself more and more each day.

Oz, on the other hand, apparently thought he was a big man now; he ran the Iceberg Lounge, a funny name association, given that he hated being called “Penguin.” You knew he asked about you too, but Alberto said he told him to fuck off every time.

You weren’t allowed to go back home, at least that’s what you understood from your dad. He said you and your sister both lost yourselves a bit, maybe the money and the fame got to your head and that it was best you stayed there; the weather would do you wonders.

On the bright side, it had been five long years, and Alberto said he was 100% sure he was going to get Sofia out of that shithole, finally.

And when you thought that things were finally looking up for you, everything was going to be okay after such a long time of everything being shit—your dad died.

Your ears started ringing, like a train was passing in your head, when Alberto yelled out that he was gone over the phone. Your knees felt weak, like someone had transformed them into play-doh. I need to get home now.

Your dad wasn’t even cold in the grave when Alberto went AWOL—gone, no word from him since yesterday evening. Both you and Sofia were worried. Where was he?

You knew Oz was called to the house that day after your brother stopped responding to your texts. You could hear that loud voice of his, muffled but still loud enough to hear everything they said.

You hadn’t been here for quite some time—five years. Still, nothing changed. Sofia’s uncle Johnny and Milos filled your brother’s spot while he was gone; however, when he comes back-he’s going to be the boss, that's for sure.

Women weren’t allowed inside when the men were planning and talking business, but you weren’t inside. Plus, it wasn’t your fault Oz had a voice loud enough to hear from down the hall. Oz. Oz’s voice. Your heart skipped a beat whenever he spoke. This stupid attraction—you hoped in the years that passed it would go away, but apparently, it had not. In fact, it seemed to have grown alongside you. Maybe now he could have more courage; maybe this newly acquired upgrade made him the man you only saw glimpses of. You were a grown woman; surely now he had no reservations about you. Surely.

You didn't even hear your sister walk by with her bodyguards near your spot, attached to the door, too busy in your daydream.

“Am I interrupting you?” she asked, making you jump and curse under your breath. Her manner of speaking changed; so did her walk, her style, and her hair. But you knew the love you guys had for one another hadn’t changed.

“Fuck, Sofia, why are you sneaking up on me like that?” you whispered.

“Can you please move? I want to go inside,” she said, smiling, but the smile never reached her eyes. You moved, and the doors were opened.

“—in fact, it’s big. It has the potential to revolutionize the drug business,” you heard from inside. Huh? Is he referring to Al's plan?How does he know what Alberto wanted to do? You didn’t even know the whole story—of course you didn’t.

You decided to leave. You didn’t want Oz to see you, and you didn’t want to see him either. What was wrong with you?

On your way out, passing the exit, you saw this gorgeous purple car. Now there was only ONE man you knew who could possess something as flashy and in-your-face as a purple fucking car.

It wasn’t Milos, by the way. Then you heard his footsteps, and they were coming-fast, like really fucking fast.

Shit, okay, I’m leaving—go up the stairs now. Before you could hide yourself in one of the upper rooms, you heard Sofia yell out your name.

“Oz, you remember my little sister, right? She had such a fondness for you and you of her, from what I remember. You two haven’t seen each other for such a long time.” Okay, you couldn’t hide, so just put on a brave face and go say hi. “Hi, Oz, you ruined my life, but don’t worry, I would still ride you.” You wished you were back in Europe.

Turning the corner was the easy part; looking at him was the hard part. He looked different, yes—but still the same. His clothing had definitely changed; his black suit was now replaced with a purple one, like the car. Jesus. While you descended the staircase in your short flowery dress, it felt like your date was waiting for you downstairs to take you to prom. Those seven seconds you spent getting down the staircase felt like seven hours. Please, ground, swallow me whole now.

Once you got down and saw him again for the first time in five years, up close, he looked somehow more handsome. His scar was more pronounced, yes, but it added to his allure. Oh God, he’s smiling. Not only did he have a purple car and a purple suit, but this man had golden teeth as well. On a lighter note, he smelled like cologne, cigarettes, and aftershave—just like you remembered him smelling. Oh, that brings you back.

“Hi, Oz,” you said, smiling ear to ear.

He looked you up and down, still smiling. “Wow, you’re just as gorgeous as I remember.”

[0-p01ssum]

But then I need your voice As the key to unlock all the love that's trapped in me So tell me when it's time to say I love you

Accurate Fan art❌ Stereotypical Punk ver.✔️

Little update and venting below ⤵

Hi...?

So, yeah... I've been beta-reading the fic and doing some very-much-needed corrections (I was like ewww I really posted it like this?? but also I'm glad for being able to find mistakes cause that means my writing improved somehow).

A few weeks ago I corrected chapters 1, 2 and 3 and part of chapter 4, but the truth is I didn't really want to read that chapter again (those who already got to that part will understand).

By now I guess it's pretty obvious the amount of "projection" I put in Limbo, and it's been like a way for me to tell things differently. Lately I've been going through things and different people came to me saying "let's talk if you need it", and I appreciate that a lot, really, I still don't understand why people I don't even know irl would do that for me and it scares me? but it also means a lot to me.

The thing is... I feel like I've talked about my shit more times than I can even recall. I've been to therapy, had medication blah blah. And yet here I am, overthinking 24-7, which means that having talked things out like a million times didn't solve anything.

But yeah, there's this one person I've talked to about that, and just when I was like "what if I just delete everything and do as if it never happened lol", they messaged me and said "going to a friend's, wanna come?", and so I did and well, it looks like I just needed some beer, pot and playing Overcooked with friends while listening to Blur and Radiohead.

That was on Thursday. On Friday I finally managed to reread chapter 4 and correct it, and also corrected chapters from 5 to 7 (Eng versions).

The thing is, bless this person. I don't know what I've done so right that they are in my life and always show when I need it most and I couldn't be more grateful.

Since I started this project I never posted something like this before and it's weird even for me but HEY, this blog just turned 12 the other day yayyy, and it has always been like a "safe place" to me and I love it.

When I was working on c.14 I was like "I can't wait to get to c.15 cause I've got that one more figured out than this one" and 😅 writing is hard when your brain is busy overthinking crap I guess.

Yet I've been posting designs and stuff so not to abandon it completely. Now I think I'm feeling better and ready to continue writing.

Last thing I wanted to say was thank you, to those who been following the story and interacting with it, I love to read your feedback and listen to people's theories. Not gonna lie, when I posted c.1 I almost shit myself and that feeling didn't leave, I'm feeling that rn, and those interactions are 95% of why I sit and continue with the story.

Am I giving too much importance to a silly fanfic? Probably, but I don't know, I guess I actually enjoy it. I've always imagined stories in my head and this is the first time I do something with that.

And yeh that's all. Sorry, thank u etc. See u when fucking c.15 is finished ✌️

[sissylittlefeather]

Role Play Part 5: Something Borrowed

A/N: Well, shit. I accidentally finished this series. If you're a writer, you understand how sometimes these stories just write themselves. If you don't write, let me just tell you sometimes it really feels like I am just a pen for words with a life of their own. So, this chapter wrote itself and ended the series. Will there be an epilogue? Oh yeah. But please enjoy the end of this series. It's been a labor of love.

Need to catch up? Here is my Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, kissing, cussing, p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, angst

Word count: ~3.2k

In the morning, Elvis wakes up before you. That's strange, because he rarely wakes up before the afternoon, but he seems to sleep better with you there. At first, he lays there holding you, listening to the even pattern of your breathing. He knows he has to tell you to go home today, but the prospect of doing so is not a pleasant one. He slides out from under you and goes to the bathroom and gets a glass of water. When he comes back, you're still asleep, naked, laying on your stomach with your hair spread out across your back and the pillow. You look so peaceful and angelic in your sleep. For a second, he considers pulling out his camera and taking some photos of you. This is the image he'd like to keep, that he wakes up every morning thinking about. Your eyelashes flutter and he sets the glass of water on the nightstand, slipping back into the bed beside you.

You feel his hand on your back as he strokes your hair and it makes you shiver. Groaning and stretching, you scoot over close to him and put your arms around his waist. You feel him kiss the top of your head and linger there, inhaling your scent.

He's trying to figure out how to tell you to leave when all he wants in the world is for you to stay right there in his arms. But that's exactly why you need to go. He'll tell you when you're more awake. It would just be cruel to do it while you're still half asleep.

After a few more minutes you sit up and yawn. You kiss his shoulder and roll over him out of the bed to go to the bathroom. He watches your hips sway as you walk away from him and before he knows it, he's fully erect. That's when he hears the shower start. You come out of the bathroom and he looks you up and down all the way to your perfectly painted toenails.

"Thought I'd hop in the shower. You want to join me?" You say it seductively and do a little shimmy to tempt him. His cock is so hard it hurts, so it's impossible not to notice when he stands up. "Mmm. Good morning, soldier. You comin'?"

He growls and wraps himself around you as you turn to walk back to the bathroom, whispering in your ear.

"Not yet, but I bet I will be soon." You giggle and the sound fills the room in a way that makes his heart swell. As you tumble into the shower together, he decides he can tell you to go home after this is finished. One last time won't hurt.

In the shower, you fall into each other easily and it's all mouths and hands and moans and whimpers as he slides in and out of you, your wet skin hot against his. He starts out behind you with your hands against the shower wall as he holds your hips with both of his. Then, he turns you and picks you up, pressing your back against the wall and fucking into you with every ounce of his power. The steamy smell of sex fills the bathroom and you both get louder and louder as you approach your climax together. The water runs down both of your bodies and mixes with your sweat, your hair sticking to your forehead and shoulders.

"Oh, fuck, YES!" He finally yells as he slams into you one last time and fills you with his warmth. You can't make any noises as your orgasm pounds you and you lose hearing in your left ear. All you can do is hold onto him and shake as he kisses your neck and cheeks and mouth. Slowly, he sets you back down, but your legs are so wobbly that he switches the shower to a bath and sits down with you, situating himself behind you so that you're leaning against his chest.

"Are you okay, honey?"

"Mmm yeah, I'm better than okay. That was amazing."

"Yeah, it was." He tries to get up the courage to ask you to leave after the bath, but he just can't. Maybe he'll let himself enjoy this day with you and you can leave tonight.

******

You spend the next half hour or so in the bathtub together just talking and cuddling until the water isn't warm and your skin starts to prune. Finally, you get out and get dressed. He watches as you put on makeup and fix your hair. Every detail of you is interesting to him and he wants to memorize your every move.

You make your way to the kitchen together and eat some sandwiches before he takes you to show you around the house. He makes sure you get a taste of what each room has to offer: a game of pool, some TV, the piano, and he even lets you actually shoot a couple of his guns. You're out in the yard with the horses when the sun starts to set and he asks what you want for dinner.

"I can have the staff whip up pretty much anything you want."

"No. I have a better idea." The devious glint in your eye makes him nervous.

"What?"

"We're cooking."

"I can't cook!"

"Good thing I can. I'll show you. You can be my little helper." He rolls his eyes and puts his arms around you.

"Honey, are you sure?"

"It'll be fun. Come on. When have you not had fun with me?"

"That's true. Alright, we can try it." He leans in and kisses you deeply. Dinner. Then you have to go home.

******

In the kitchen, there's food everywhere as you try to make a meal out of the ingredients you found. Not surprisingly, you found stuff to make meatloaf and mashed potatoes. You also insist on sautéing some zucchini to go with it. He's not sure why you need a vegetable, but you tell him he'll eat it anyway. He peels potatoes, or tries to but he keeps dropping them in the sink and cussing, and mixes the meatloaf for you. He does not appreciate the texture of it on his hands, but for you he'll do just about anything. Luckily, you made him take his rings off before starting this process. Finally, pretty much everything is done and you're just waiting for the meatloaf to finish baking. You're at the sink doing dishes and he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, setting his chin on your shoulder. He does this so often and it's your favorite thing.

"You look pretty doing dishes in my kitchen."

"Oh yeah? You like your women domestic?"

"I like you domestic." He kisses your cheek and your ear and down to the back of your neck. You grab a towel and dry your hands and then turn to face him. He kisses your mouth, parting your lips and sending his tongue to move against yours. With his hands on your hips, he walks you to another counter and picks you up, setting your bottom on the countertop. It's impressive how quickly he gets your pants and panties off and tossed to the side. Your hands go to the clasp on his pants and you drop them just enough to pull his cock out. He's mostly hard already and it only takes a few seconds of you stroking him with your hand to get him erect enough to push into you. You both let out a moan at the relief of him being inside you again. It feels like you'll never get enough of that sensation and he begins to slide in and out of you in a steady rhythm. He's convinced he could fuck you a million times and it still wouldn't get old. He pumps faster and faster, speeding haphazardly towards his climax, slamming into you harder and harder. He nips at your neck while he pounds you and you drag your nails down the back of his shirt. There's something very comfortable and intimate about the way he fucks you this time and it feels like you're going to keep doing it like this forever. He buries himself in you over and over again, hitting the most sensitive place inside you each time. You feel your orgasm beginning to build and you know you won't last much longer in this position. He seems to be experiencing the same thing as he grunts while he ruts into you. He looks down at the place where you connect and it nearly pushes him over the edge.

"God, baby, I could do this forever."

"I wish you would."

"Mm... mmm... baby, fuck!" His hips meet yours one last time and he cums deep inside you again. You hold him to you while you both think about what he said just seconds ago. Did he really say forever?

Just then the timer for the meatloaf goes off and you both jump. He erupts in laughter and you both stand there laughing and holding each other for another minute or so. Then, he pulls out and hands you your pants so you can get the meatloaf out. Both of you pretend to forget about what he said as you sit down to eat.

******

After dinner, he knows it is time for you to leave, but instead he offers up the idea of a movie in the TV room. You eagerly agree, completely oblivious to the fact that he's been trying to ask you to leave all day. He throws his arm around you and lets you snuggle into your place on his shoulder. Or at least, it sure feels like it's your place. The movie goes on and you laugh together and almost cry together at one part. He tells himself that as soon as it's over, he'll walk you to the door, give you a quick kiss, and be done with it.

And then he hears how evenly you breathe and notices how limp your hand is on his knee.

You're asleep.

His heart leaps and he smiles. He can't make you go home now. It would just be irresponsible to send you driving off this sleepy. Instead, he turns and scoops you into his arms. He carries you up both flights of stairs to the bedroom and lays you in the bed, sliding in next to you. He's laying behind you, so he looks down at you and watches you sleep for a bit. Then, you roll over to face him. He moves your hair out of your face and kisses your forehead.

It takes everything in him not to whisper that he loves you.

******

The next morning, you wake up first. Elvis breathes softly next to you and you run your fingertips down his nose and jawline, where the shadow of his facial hair has appeared overnight. Your heart breaks a little when you realize this is the last time you'll wake up next to him for a while. Maybe ever. It certainly feels like there's something real between you, but you can never be sure. He is still married.

You're trying to hold back tears when he stirs and groans. He puts his arm around you and pulls you in close to him and then kisses your forehead.

"Good morning, baby."

"I'm sorry I fell asleep last night. We didn't even get to do a role play."

"Are you kidding? We role played a married couple all day. You falling asleep on the couch before we could have sex was just part of the act."

You both laugh and try to ignore the implications of what he's just said. To keep it light, he doubles down.

"Now I just need you to nag me all morning and then it'll feel more real." You sit up and grab a pillow, hitting him with it gently.

"Oh yeah? That's the kind of wife you think I'd be?"

"Is there such a thing as a wife that doesn't nag? You made me eat a vegetable."

"Elvis! You little shit! It's good for you!" You hit him again with the pillow and he grabs it.

"Ahh, stop, this is exactly what I'm talking about!" He hits you with the pillow and then wrestles you down on the bed until he's on top of you. He leans in and kisses you gently.

This time he undresses you both carefully, dropping kisses onto your skin whenever he gets a chance. He takes the time to caress your body and press his lips and tongue in all the right places. Your orgasm washes over you like water and runs out to the edges of you sensually. When he pushes into you, he goes slowly so that you can feel every inch of him. He's unbearably gentle and he kisses you deeply and passionately while he slides in and out. There's nothing rushed or harsh or animalistic in the way he meets your hips with his. And he's noticeably silent, only letting a soft moan escape him here and there. When he presses his forehead to yours and closes his eyes while he shudders and fills you with warmth, you realize what's happening.

He's making love to you.

And he's telling you goodbye.

When he's finished, he lays his head on your chest and you swear he's trying not to cry. You hold him and let the tears slide onto the sheets while he can't see them. He lays there for a while just trying to breathe and you finally get ahold of yourself.

"I should probably head out soon."

"Yeah, probably." He manages to drag himself up out of the bed and put some clothes on while you do the same and pack up all the things you've strewn around the room since you've been there. You do this in silence without meeting each other's eyes.

Finally, you find yourself at the door just standing in front of him and staring at your shoes. Your heart is pounding.

"You know, honey, we probably should... well... I don't know if we should..." You know what he's trying to say and if it's really the end then you have nothing to lose.

"Elvis..."

"Yeah?" He looks up at you nervously and you finally make eye contact.

"I love... being with you. But-" When you start the sentence his heart jumps into his throat, but the last half of it drops it to his stomach. Hearing you say the words might've changed his mind. But he can't be in a one-sided love affair. Not while he's still married.

"This is over." He says it with an undeniable finality that cuts through you like a knife.

"Okay. I understand."

"It's been really great. You're really great and I-"

"It's okay." You put your finger on his lips before he says something he doesn't mean. Then you turn and open the door and walk out to your car. You drive away and try not to let yourself cry. Elvis goes back in the house, picks up the closest knick knack, and throws at the wall as hard as he can.

He stands with his hands on his hips looking up at the ceiling, his flowered silk shirt sticking to his back from the sweat. You almost said it. You were so close. Do you love him? His mind races over all the times you were together: the way you breathed life into him with the cop scenario, how you laid together talking until the sun came up after the French maid, when you let him take that dirty picture of you and how you felt sleeping against his chest, and this weekend. This weekend. It's happened fast, but he's in love with you. The thought of never seeing you again, never feeling the calm that settles in him when you're around, never hearing your laugh, it's unbearable.

"Fuck it."

He grabs a set of keys and heads to the carport. He has to look to see which set he grabbed and makes his way to the Blackhawk, quickly unlocking it and sliding into the front seat.

As he drives, it starts to drizzle, but he makes his way across town quickly. Luckily, he remembers where your apartment is. When he gets to the complex, he swings into a parking space and gets out and stares at the buildings in front of him. He remembers the address, but not the apartment number.

"Goddammit." He goes from building to building trying to remember. He figures out which building it is, but doesn't know which staircase to use. Finally, he just looks up and yells at the top of his lungs.

"Y/N!!!!!"

You've been moping around the apartment for the last twenty minutes, just letting all the tears you've been holding in fall. Your hair is a mess and you probably have makeup everywhere. But it doesn't matter. Your heart is in pieces and you're about to just crawl in bed for the afternoon. That's when you hear him. You run to the window and open it. The rain is starting to come down pretty good now.

"Elvis! What are you doing here?!"

"COME DOWN HERE!"

"It's raining!"

"I'm aware! Come down here anyway!" Your heart is pounding in your chest with hope for why he's here. You run to the front door and open it. You don't even think to bring an umbrella or jacket or anything. You just walk out into the rain towards him. When you get to him, he stands in front of you breathing heavily.

"Elvis, what-?"

"I love you." It takes your breath away.

"You what?!"

"I-I-I I love you. I'm in love with you." You stand there in awe, heart stopped and breathing shallow. "And I don't even care anymore if you don't-"

"I love you, too, Elvis."

"You do?"

"Yes!! Of course I do!" He smiles and laughs, relaxing. Then, he steps forward and wraps you in his arms, capturing your lips in one of the most passionate kisses you've ever experienced. Your mouths move against each other in a rhythmic tandem that only the two of you understand. The rain continues, but you don't even notice how wet you are. There is only you and him and your love for each other. He scoops you into his arms and carries you up the stairs to your apartment, still kissing you. When you get there, he kicks the door open and carries you straight to the bedroom.

But this time you don't have sex. You strip off your wet clothes and lay naked in the bed together. No costumes, no props, no pretending. Just the two of you. You talk and laugh and kiss and the love between you grows stronger by the second. The situation around you may be complicated, but you and him together is not. You'll figure the rest of it out. You love him and he loves you. Nothing else matters.

******

The End

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @deltafalax

[miceskulls]

Wanted to post a small snippet of my series that I’m writing! It’s a Ticci Toby x reader, I got inspired by an old one shot I did and wanted to continue it.

It’ll be available to read on quotev, Ao3 and here! I plan to make it 10-20 chapters long, maybe even more depending on how I want the story to go. Hope you guys enjoy what I have so far!

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

        Smoke and ash fluttered around you, framing the terror and grime that grimaced your face. There was a scream as axe struck down besides you. It was Toby, he was crying uncontrollably, sobbing on how you ruined everything, “YOU! FUCKING BITCH! You just HAD to ruin things for me didn’t you?”

        There was a pause, Toby trying to catch his breath as fire fanned his back, “Why couldn’t you just let me have this one thing? ….Why couldn’t you just love me?”

        His shoulders slumped, both of you went quiet except for your panting and Toby’s sobs. He was exposed to be happy, he had someone for once, he had you. But you betrayed him, all you did was ignore and belittle him. Treating him like some dog. Toby collapsed, his knees digging into the dry and ashy ground. Loud sobs and whimpering could be heard as he pathetically cried out. All you could do was watch as he broke down in front of you, wanting oh so desperately to be held.

        Standing up, you instinctively reach out and grab the axe Toby threw in his moment of desperation. All you could feel was numb as you lifted the axe and swung.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

        "_____?" A feminine voice broke you out of your daydream, letting out a disappointed groan you look where the voice is coming from. Sasha one of your best friends gave you a concerned look, "you've been quiet for a while, everything ok?"

        "hmm? yeah I'm fine, just lost in thought you know?" you hummed out, turning away to look out the window again. Sasha had proposed the idea of moving in with each other, saying 'it'll be fun! we already practically live together with how much you come over'. The proposal took over a year to put in motion,  housing was hard to come by in the small town. Eventually you both had to start branching out to other areas, it wasn't till about 2 months ago when you finally found a place. And now here you where 2 hours in a 5 hour drive to your new apartment. 

        "aren't you excited?" Sasha exclaimed, her excitement radiating off her. You couldn't say you were excited per say, but you were ready for the change. After 22 years of living in a boring old town and you where ready for the big city. honestly? you where ready for anywhere but there. Too many bad memories, too many regrets. 

        "please don't do this... they'll find me! PLEAS-"

        "_____!!" Sasha called out to you, a frustrated pout on her face, "are you even listening to me? come on! be more excited, we're starting a new chapter of our lives!" Sasha huffed, giving you a playful glare from the drivers seat. 

        a small smile made its way to your face, this was exposed to be a happy day. why where you so set dwelling on the past? you gave Sasha a apologetic look letting out a small chuckle , "you're right, today is exposed to be exciting. I'm just gonna miss not paying rent." 

        "me too! but now we have our own place! that's better in my opinion!" Sasha happily went on about how nice the new apartment going to be. it didn't take long for you to tune her out, she could will talk for hours and right now was no exception. turning your attention back to the window, gazing out into the passing trees. up ahead you could see a tall figure, ever so slightly sticking out from the long lanky trees. a small gasp left your lips as you made eye contact with it. before you could properly see the figure the car had already flew past it, your mind reeling.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

On thin ice (Hockey player! Miguel O’Hara x Figure skater! Fem! Reader)

A/N: im using one of my fav writing tropes for this chapter, so it’s gonna be a bit longer Lmaoo. the usual, not proofread so excuse grammatical errors or spelling mistakes, Miguel might be ooc.

(Y/N)- Your name, (f/c)- favorite color.

drinking/ alcohol use, mentions of sex/sexual topics (no smut, but light NSFW)

Word count: 2.1k

Series Masterlist

Chapter 5: Have you no idea that you’re in deep?

—

“You suck ass at beer pong Miguel.”

“And you suck ass.” Miguel said back to Peter with a smirk, taking a sip of his Modelo.

He sighed before tossing another white ping pong ball into the direction of a group of red solo cups, once again missing, the ball bouncing off the rim of a cup and landing on the floor instead. “Pinche- that’s it, I’m done. I’m not getting alcohol poisoning tonight.” Miguel grumbled before walking away from the table, despite Peter’s protests, and into the crowd of sweaty and drunk college students. It’s currently Saturday night and Miguel was at some random party on frat row, he couldn’t remember which frat it was. It didn’t really matter for him though, since he was on the hockey team and the captain of said team, he didn’t have to worry about getting in. Miguel was in a pretty good mood despite not having talked to you since the incident in front of the arena two weeks ago, it’s hard not to be in a good mood when they had absolutely crushed last night’s game, having won 5 to 3.

He walked without any real destination, taking another sip of his bottle, finishing it off before setting the now empty bottle onto of a random coffee table, he wasn’t drunk drunk, but his feet were stumbling a bit as he attempted to walk in a straight line. He had found himself in a random bathroom, deciding why not “reveal” himself while he was there, after handling his business, he re-zipped his jeans and fastened his belt buckle. In his drunken state, Miguel didn’t even realize he had forgotten to lock the door to the bathroom, it wasn’t until he was in the middle of washing his hands did he noticed, because he heard the noise of the doorknob turning and the door opening.

“I’ll be just a minute Kate!-“

“Someone’s in here-“

Miguel’s words took longer to process due to the tequila in your system, so your hand had already closed and locked the bathroom door and you were in the middle of turning your body to walk further into the bathroom, your body only finally stopping when you were now face to face with Miguel. Both of you falling into a silence as you stared at each other, neither one daring to move, it felt like you were almost frozen in time for hours, when, in reality it’s only been about 10 seconds. After a few seconds you blinked out of your trance like state, Miguel clearing his throat as you rub the back of your neck.

“Sorr-“ You both started at the same time again, before stopping and attempting to apologize again, only to speak at the same time once more, causing you to began to laugh at the situation. Your head tilting back, a hand going up to your chest, Miguel thought you looked like an Angel while laughing, also let out a small chuckle, but his was more awkward, suddenly aware of the fact that last time he saw you was not a good experience. Or, rather *any* of you encounters with Miguel weren’t a good experience.

“Sorry. I guess I forgot to lock the door.” Miguel says with a small (albeit embarrassed) smile, as he moves to turn the water off and dry his hands of a small dark blue hand towel that was hanging next to the sink. You quickly bring your hand up and dismiss his apology with a wave.

“No-no it’s okay! It’s not a big deal.” You tried to assure him, a small chuckle leaving your lips, Miguel couldn’t tell if the slight blush on your face was from the alcohol you’ve been downing or from the situation. “ Did you need me to leave or…” your question trailed off.

Miguel caught your drift and quickly shook his head. “No, no I was just about done, I’ll let you… erm… yeah.” He finished with a small chuckle, feeling more relaxed seeing a way out of this somewhat awkward encounter, he mumbled a small “excuse me.” As he goes to walk past you and towards the door, you had to turn to your side so you and him could switch positions, and his hand went to lightly grab your hip in an attempt to keep him or you from falling as he squeezes past you. The sudden touch caught you off guard slightly, but you didn’t say anything about it. Not thinking much of it or the way your heart skipped a beat during it. Once he passed you, and begrudgingly let go of your hip, he goes to unlock the door and turn the bathroom doorknob, but when he went to pull the door, it wouldn’t budge. So he tried again, harder this time. Then again… and still nothing. You just watched with a confused expression, your head tilting to the side as you fiddled with the hem of your (f/c) dress. You began to shift your weight back and forth on your feet as you felt your discomfort grow from all the alcohol you drank tonight that you needed to release, your heels making a little clink with each step.

“What’s wrong?” You asked after his 3rd attempt to open the door, Miguel finally dropped his hands with a heavy sigh, turning to face you, his hand coming up to his chin before he finally replies.

“We’re stuck.”

“What?”

“The lock jammed.” He sighed as he rubbed his face with his hand.

“You’re kidding…” you groaned as you moved pass him again and wiggled the door in an attempt to get it to open, but you quickly realized it was, in fact, jammed. “Ugh, fuck. Kate has my phone…” you whined as you turned your back and leaned against the door, as you look up at Miguel.

He lets out a sigh, and dropped his hands down to his jean pockets, “it’s alright, I’ll call Peter.” He said before finding which pocket his phone in, going to turn it on, only to realize it was dead, “or not…” he grumbled as he drops his hand with his phone back to his side, while the free one runs through his slicked back hair, a heavy sigh leaving his lips.

“So we’re stuck in here?” You asked in disbelief, but before he could answer you had turn back to face the door and begain to bang on the door in hopes that someone will hear you. “HELLO?! IS SOMEONE THERE!? WERE STUCK IN HERE!!” Miguel quickly pulled you away from the door.

“Woah, woah Princesa, you’re gonna break down the door, calm down, I’m sure someone will notice we’re gone, or someone will try and come use the bathroom and will get help.” Miguel said in a calm manner as he tried to calm you down, you just took a deep breath and nodded your head. Moving past him so he was closer to the door again.

After a few moments of silence, you spoke once more. “Miguel?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you do me a favor…”

“Sure ice princess.”

“Can you… turn around and cover your ears?”

He gave you a puzzled look, “…why?”

“…erm… I have to pee still…”

—

At first, you two sat in awkward silence, you sat on the edge of the bathroom sink, while Miguel sits on the edge of the bathtub across from you, avoiding eye contact, and the silent only being broken from the occasional clearing of the throat or the shuffling of clothes as one of you two would shift your sitting positions, until you suddenly spoke up, your eyes lighting up slightly. “Hey Miguel,” you say with a smile, before digging your hand in between your cleavage of your dress, Miguel looked away to hid his light blush that was beginning to spread on his cheeks. “want a shot?” You asked with a smirk, before pulling out two small mini bottles of Patron silver that you had hiding in your dress, putting your hand out offering him one.

Miguel just looked at you with a raised brow for a second, before shrugging his shoulder, “fuck it… why not.” He mirrored your smirk as he takes one of the bottles from your hand. Once he grabs it, you pull your hand back, both of you opening the mini bottles, giving each other a “salute” as you both tap the bottles together before downing the shots. Your face cringes slightly as the burning sensation goes down your throat, wishing you had a lime to help.

—

“Okay..okay…” you say after getting your self to stop giggling, “would you rather… erm… oh! I know! Would you rather have to only play hockey in your Pjs for the rest of the season, or walk in on Peter and MJ making out?” You asked with a smile as you rest your elbows on your knees, and your chin in the palm of you hands.

“Well… considering I only sleep in my briefs, and I’ve already walked in on them making out, I guess I would be okay having to do it again.” Miguel replied with a chuckle as he looks up at you from your place on the sink. This was the most you two have gotten along without bickering, and it was odd but also… nice?

“Okay your turn.” You say to him, as your swung your feet a bit, your heels lightly hitting the cabinet underneath the sink.

“Okay, um… would you rather, get back with your ex, or tell the last person you’ve had a sexual dream about, that you had a wet dream about them?” He asked with a small smirk, and the question made you freeze up a bit. Why? Well… because unfortunately, that person was the one that was 5 feet away from you, that same person who you were locked in a bathroom with, that person… was Miguel O’Hara. It’s not like you had that dream on purpose, and it’s not like you didn’t enjoy it, but you wouldn’t admit it, it was simply a dream, it had no meaning behind it. It wasn’t like you actually wanted to know what it would be like to be underneath the hockey player, it wasn’t like you actually wanted to see how quickly he could break and tear you down to nothing but a shaking sobbing mess. Nothing but incoherent babbles and whines leaving your mouth, tears of pleasure streaming down your face as you begged for more, begged for more of him, “more Miguel! Ple-please… I-I need you so bad- I need your-“

“(Y/N)?” Miguel’s voice quickly snapped you back into reality, giving you a questionable look, you quickly clear your throat, ignoring the heat rising to your face and the slight ache that forms between your thighs, before speaking.

“Erm… can’t I say neither ?” You asked, your shoulders going up in a slight shrug. Miguel quickly shook his head and stood up, taking a small step towards you.

“Nope, you gotta pick one.” He said with a sly smirk, his arms crossing in front of his chest.

You let out a sigh, you really, really hated your ex, so you answered with a heavy sigh, “… the second one…” you mumbled as you looked away to avoid eye contact. The sudden shift of your behavior didn’t go unnoticed by Miguel, he takes another step towards you, now just a few inches right infront of you, if he takes just one more step, you would have to separate your legs to make room for him.

“What’s wrong ice princess?” He asked in a low, almost teasing tone, as he brings his hand up to gently cup your cheek, before moving your face back to look at him, your face began to feel fleshed from the sudden intimate move. Your eyes widened slightly as you look up at Miguel, his eyes were half-lidded, and they’re was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite make out. “Got something you needa get off your chest…” he mumbled in the same low tone as he leans in a bit, your breath hitches and your heart rate increases as you were now nose to nose.

“Miguel…” you said bearly above a whisper, you weren’t sure what you were even going to say.

“Yes?”

“What…” you trailed off again when you start to feel his hot breath began to fan your lips, if he just moved a little bit closer-

“Miguel! (Y/N!)” Peter’s shouts through the door quickly make Miguel pull away from you, pulling away just in time before the bathroom door opens, being faced with Peter and your dorm mate Kate. Luckily, Miguel took enough steps back so you two weren’t in a suspicious position.

“Jesus. Finally.” You mumbled before hopping off the counter, pushing past Peter and grabbing Kate’s hand, dragging her out of the frat house, back to your dorm and far away from Miguel.

—

Taglist: @tayleighuh @cowboylikeevie @coralineyouareinterribledanger @jukioku @loser-alert @migueloharaspookiebear @serpentstarr @littlexscarletxwitch

[lexluvswriting]

ꔫ L'autunno.

ꔫ Ch: 4 [last page] [next page]

-> Pairing: Eris x ballet dancer!fem!reader.

-> (CW): x fem!reader (she/her), slow-burn, rivals to lovers, tinkle of angst on occasion, fluff, non-specified identity Summer Court!reader, regarding canon ACOTAR time: after defeat of Hybern. things get get cheeky... teehee.

-> (TW): Allusions to domestic violence/abuse (L.O.A + Beron), eris has trauma flashbacks, sexual tension? maybe? someone read it and tell me pls. eris practically pining for reader but simultaneously pissing her off, reader x eris finally kiss, raahh!!

W/C: 3.5k

╰┈➤ Lex's note: UHM... guys... please ignore that i last posted in April or something... double degrees are not for the weak 😔✊OOH! ALSO: you two share a kiss- :O -and reader likes it >:D did I pull an all-nighter for this chapter, AND almost finish up to chapter six in one night? ... yes. do i also have an important exam in 5 hours? ... also yes. i couldn't help myself- I missed writing, okay?! anyway, pls pls pls, don't be afraid to comment & let me know what you liked, disliked or loved!!

You had both sat on the ledge of the ampitheatre, taking in the peaceful quiet, enjoying the nature that surrounded you both before you huffed softly at how ‘casual’ the setting was. A pretty patterned rug was laid out to be sat on, with porcelain cups, dishes, and all sorts of rich, fancy-fae delicacies: tea cakes of different shapes, flavours and colours; neatly cut sandwiches with different pastes, spices and fillings.

“Where’s your little throne?”

You nodded, not waiting for him before picking a sandwich to take a bite of- your stomach fluttering when you didn’t taste poison, but rather a delightful taste combination. He grinned slyly and clicked his tongue, feigning disappointment as he poured you and himself tea that smelt like bergamot and honey.

“Would have been too big for my servants to winnow, I’m afraid.”

His tone was airy and snobbish- as if he had read your mind, thus playing along to the tune of your harsh assumptions- so you rolled your eyes, food pushed into the side of your mouth to mumble out, “Figured you would have used some of them as footstools and makeshift seats instead.”

Eris huffed, before thinking over the weight of your snark which drew a chuckle that dissolved into a soft laugh of disbelief. You ignored the way the sound made your insides flutter- or perhaps that was just organ failure. He looked at you incredulously, shaking his auburn covered head as he filled your plate, then his.

“Is that what you truly think of me?”

You continued to chew, your face expressive enough to fill the silence, which made him chuckle more.

“I certainly have underestimated you, little swan,” You grumbled at the ‘feigned’ endearment, but it didn’t deter him, “You are not merely a pretty face at all. You also possess a delightful, deadly fire. Now, whether it makes you stupidly brave, or bravely stupid, I’m not sure. Even worse, I’m not sure if that intrigues me, or irritates me.” He hummed, and it seemed to stoke ‘said fire’ within you- your own pride being stroked, so you gave him a bemused half-smirk,

“Why not both?”

He raised an eyebrow at your rather coy tone, and you almost thought you liked that ‘slightly startled, slightly intrigued’ look he wore, before you remembered what he was- who he was- and looked away disinterestedly. But you knew him; or at least, knew he was trained in the arts of charming females as if it was as easy as breathing. Something in your gut told you he liked those that played ‘hard-to-get’ and the feelings that festered and stewed made you confused. Again, as if he was reading your mind, he answered accordingly:

“Almost sounds like you’re flirting with me, darling.” His serve. So the match starts.

A scoff, accompanied by a simple shake of your head. “Spare me. Just how exactly have you made it this far in life, lordling?” A simple hit back into his court.

“Is that admiration I hear?” A lazy return.

“You wish it was.” Shaking your head as you sipped the sweet, citrusy tea he poured. A back-hand swing with a bit of force.

“I do, actually. If it means you’ll stop being so shrewd.” Parried back wonderfully, much to your dismay.

“Is this how you usually find ladies to court? By acting like an arse.” You ask flatly, and he pauses. Victory.

You smirk, glancing down at the tea cup, before the silence goes on for too long. Your lips tug into a frown, but you don’t look up. Is he angry? Something tugs at your stomach, then your chest, and you finally look back up at him, only to catch him staring at you with an expression you didn’t recognise. You straightened- almost angry at yourself for feeling nervous. But you didn’t know him. Didn’t know his moods, his temperaments. Didn’t know what he did in his spare time.

The lordling seemed to sense your fidgeting and looked away; out towards the view of the sprawling Autumn colours that dotted the trees on the horizon.

“... So… what brought you to the Autumn Court?”

You blinked up at him, raising an eyebrow, before remembering you had told him you weren’t from here.

“Apparently, as a baby, I was dropped off at an orphanage near the place I live now, with some sort of Summer Court emblem and a scarf. However, I’ve got no ties, no leads to any family that I know of, and I haven’t sought them out either.” He watched you as you spoke, and before you could comment or add more, he beat you to it.

“How miserable.”

You flinched before stilling, blinking repeatedly at him. How… miserable?

Disbelief contorted your face as you looked at him like he had grown three heads. Did he just-?

Eris simply watched you, tilting his head slightly, his russet eyes meeting yours in a stare that wasn’t hostile; rather, it was him trying to figure you out like some sort of puzzle. However, his random response had caught you off guard, making you chuckle softly, before you covered your mouth quickly, only to hold your head in your hands as you began to genuinely laugh.

“Have I misspoke?”

You laughed more at his polite yet confused tone, shaking your head as you tried to control yourself, only to laugh more, which spurred a few chuckles from the male sitting across from you.

“Hold on- I only meant it in the sense that-”

“No, no!” You forced out as you gasped for air, trying to reign in your amusement as you watched him watch you again, with him seeming oddly… content with how you laughed at him.

“I… I get it. Honestly, Eris- Sorry… ‘Lord’ Eris-” He rolled his eyes, waving a hand as you continued,

“How in the Cauldron did you make it this far in life?” You chuckled again, while he flashed a strangely sweet, cheeky smile. It was almost endearing. Almost.

“Would you believe me if I said ‘through uncanny wit and dazzling charm?’” His dryness made you snicker, before a small smile grew on your face. He hummed as you did so, looking down at his hand while you caught yourself staring again; both of you sitting in the silence as you briefly self-reflected. Why was he being funny? Why could he make you laugh simply… simply by being himself?Why was it so easy to get lost in staring at him? You continued to watch him- not knowing how intensely your eyes twinkled, nor the way it made his blood heat in a way that surprised him. Yet, he caught you, finally.

“[Y/N] darling, if you keep staring at me like that, it might put ideas in my head.” He mused, and you jerked your head away instantly, hearing him snicker as you rolled your eyes.

“Why won’t you let yourself enjoy today, little swan?” He teased, but your response wasn’t as light.

“If I do, it will mean that I am as easy, and as useless as all the others that you manage to bewitch. I simply won’t let that happen.” You replied hollowly, a small part of you not even believing your own answer. Eris sucked his tooth, watching you with a nod as if you had said something truly confounding, before he clicked his tongue and stood up.

“Alright. Let’s walk.” Eris nodded at you, before offering a hand with a sly smile, waiting for you to move. You blinked up at him, raising an eyebrow before deciding to take his hand- unlike the carriage, where he practically lifted you like it was nothing- pulling yourself up.

What the hell would a walk do?

--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---

“Tell me honestly, swan. Why do you dislike me- not my family- but me, so heavily?” Eris encouraged the dancer to speak freely as you both walked down the hill. He noticed the way your eyes avoided his, instead mapping out all the different shades of brown, orange and red leaves. He watched you shrug, and internally pulled at his hair. What had you so reserved?

He wanted to say something- taunt you, tease you, even trick you into speaking- but when you hesitated, looking at the ground for an answer that wouldn’t be so easily given, he shut up immediately. It was only when you tried to avoid the question that something triggered within him to reach for and grab your arm; grabbing gently, merely to pull you back to where he had stopped walking.

“Hey-” You had snapped, baring your teeth before pulling your arm away, the action making his heart race as you did so. How wonderful- when your eyes gleamed the way they did. Did you even know how beautiful you looked? When you looked at him like you wanted to throttle him? Or, what about when you had laughed so freely before, and his brain had completely blanked?

Eris sighed wistfully, determined to crack the nut that was your eccentric, explosive enigma of a mind. 

“When you do things like that- acting like you just have some claim on me- I don’t like it.So when you do it often, or other things I don’t like, it makes it easier to dislike you.” You spoke succinctly, and he couldn’t argue with that. At least you answered him. Yet Eris watched you anyway, hoping you’d continue. When he stayed silent, he realised his staring made you nervous as you wiped your hands on your dress, delicate hands grabbing at the fabric to fidget as you pushed yourself to answer his initial question.

He willed his expression to be neutral as you began to speak- the words spilling from your lip like a fast flowing river. But his restraint was in vain- before he knew it, he was absolutely entranced by your thoughts and ideas. The way you spoke about your studies- the passion, the assertiveness you carried as you listed the criticisms your ‘surrogate mother Ordelia’ had helped you draft in an assignment; an ‘unsent response’ to his father’s unfair increase of land tax, and the random raids or ‘removals’ that always seemed to happen towards the end of the day, targeting certain fae of non-native identities. He had to remind himself to meet with this fae. She sounded like quite the female.

You had told Eris about the families that were getting displaced- how people were terrified to leave their homes because of these new restrictions- and his brain spun like a spinning top. You dared compare Beron’s treatment to the tyrant of a female that had held Prythian hostage for almost fifty years prior, and his nostrils flared, but he stayed silent. Did you realise what you were saying? How brave, how brilliant- how possibly stupid it was? Being so bold saying these ideas so freely? He almost felt liberated from the confines of his own mind- where, for too long, he had been too afraid to dare bring light to these thoughts of his own.

Eris didn’t dare stop you, so you continued, even scolding Eris himself on his ‘petty blackmail’ of your ballet instructor- he decided there and then that he wanted you to criticise and chastise him like that all the time- advocating for the old studio, and the children who used it to escape poverty in their own villages, in their own homes. Unbeknownst to you, the heir seemed to fall more and more in love with every word you said. He figured it would probably be his demise if he were to compliment you on your ideas- you seemed to treat anything he said as a callous taunt, or cruel mockery. But the heir couldn’t help himself as he exhaled softly.

“Brilliant.”

He nodded, watching you intensely, before shaking his head with a scoff, looking away.

“Ballerinas are doing politics now,” And you’re somehow doing them in the way he had always dreamed of, “What a world we live in.” He would have happily sung your praises from the treetops. He was prepared to present your ideas- your works to his father and call him out on his tirade. So why was it that, when he looked back at you, you looked up at him with a mixture of hurt and disappointment?

--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---

“You weren’t listening to a single word, were you?” The disappointment in your voice was almost laughable. You felt bitterness coat your tongue like film as you observed the heir. There it was. That feigned incredulity, the false intrigue and interest. In his eyes, like so many other males, all you’d ever be recognised as was just a pretty little ballerina. A pretty female, with pretty eyes, hips for child-rearing, and a figure that was easy on the eyes.

“[Y/N]... You- you have just recited every single measure I have ever wanted to implement.” He had stopped walking to watch your disappointment manifest, and he shook his head again, reaching for you before hesitating as you whipped back to glare at him. Well… at least he listened to one thing.

“I don’t need your pity, lordling.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say!”

“Oh, boohoo!” You snapped, glaring up at the heir, “I know what you see in me- what your ‘expectations’ are. You want me to sit still and be pretty while I have to be subjected to this- this stupid ball with all these rich, ignorant nobles who-”

“Who couldn’t give a damn about the people who starve right outside their doors, right?” He finished your sentence- he cut you off, and you paused.

“Are you mocking me?”

“No, [Y/N]. I know what you’re thinking. I’ve thought the exact same- down to the letter, every damned day.” He grabbed you, and your eyes narrowed, ready to warn him off you when he interjected again.

“Just- listen.” He snapped, and your mouth shut, even as you glared daggers up at him, “Do you know how exhausting it is, having to carry the burdens of that bastard?” Your eyes widened.

Was this real? Where the Hell had this come from? You opened your mouth, but he put his hand over it,

“Just wait before you spit in my face, stubborn thing.” He hissed, before continuing,

“We are… The Vanserra family… it is not glorious, and- and luxurious, and absolutely ignorant.” He was hardly fluent, hesitating and restarting the sentence. It felt wrong, unnerving. This was not the pompous, cocky, ‘typical’ arrogant noble who had half of the Autumn Court’s female population vying for him. This wasn’t the smug, dominant asshole who had watched you dance, and snidely spoke to you in the hallway of your ballet studio.

No.

This was the male- the son- who had snarled at you in the carriage when you tried to slander the Lady of the Autumn Court. There- you saw it again- that vulnerability, that hollowness that hid behind his eyes every time he stood next to his father; whether it was during royal festivals or important ceremonies. The oldest Vanserra son had gone- gotten trapped in a memory; somewhere dark, somewhere hostile and hurtful. So you decided there and then, regardless of the dislike you held for him, that you’d  hold him and wait.

--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---

Sounds of fists landing hits, a cacophony of muffled crashing and banging came from behind the closed door that Eris waited at tearfully- willing his child self to march in there and defend his mother, only to be completely stuck; paralysed by fear.

Warmth came from somewhere, somewhere distant, and there was the dull echo of a voice that made his chest tighten.

--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---

You watched him grow distant, his eyes losing their usual gleam- not that you cared to notice, as you’d easily deny. Something made your hands move on their own, pulling his hand off your mouth so you could grab them in yours, watching him with emotions that made your stomach knot and shrivel.

“Eris?”

You called again, and he jerked- the abrupt movement making you flinch while the heir exhaled shakily. As he looked back down at you, he saw the way you held his hands, initiating contact. When he moved, you followed his gaze, unsure why you were still holding onto him. You did that, all of your own accord. You did it, yet you weren’t sure why.

Eris swallowed thickly- you even watched the way his throat bobbed, before his hands slowly, shakily cupped your face. Your eyes never left him; you didn’t move to push him away either. What had he seen? Where had he gone?

“[Y/N] [L/N].” Your heart jerked as he murmured your name- the timbre of his voice low, soul-wrenching as his russet irises bore into yours.

“I want you to meet my father. I want-... I want you to meet him, and tell him exactly what you told me.”

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head,

“No- Not on your life-”

“Please.”

Again, his lips had come close to yours, like they had in the carriage, and you felt yourself go deathly still.

“Eris?”

“Please, [Y/N].”

“Eris-”

“You’re brilliant.” The male breathed, his eyes scanning you quickly, almost anxiously, like he was afraid your attention would shift away from him. You were brilliant? He thought… he thought you were brilliant. You swallowed, eyes fluttering as you looked up at him, stare never breaking. Looking into his eyes, being so close, it felt like you were staring down at a body of water at the bottom of a cliff. Was it shallow? Were there hidden rocks- jagged, hungry for bones to shatter? Was this what leaps of faith were?

“You don’t… you don’t care.” You shook your head stubbornly, resisting the pull.

“You- You are the most brilliant fae I know-” His serve, again.

“You’ve barely known me!” A hard knockback from yourself; the ball was in his court.

“I’ve never known anyone with a mind like yours, [Y/N].” A powerful hit back into your court.

“No.” You barely hit it back in his court, so close to crumbling.

“[Y/N]-” He fumbled.

“I’m not going to make a fool of myself in front of your father, Eris. What power do I hold?” A harsh serve to start the match.

“The knowledge you carry- the way you see the world- the way you solve problems that noblemen in my father’s court have been stuck on for years-” Your eyes widened at his words- you fumbled the hit.

“Eris- No- No! It is not my responsibility to fix your father’s inadequacies!” You snapped, pushing away gently as you looked away, your mind racing. You needed to go. Your heart- your stomach- Hell, you were even feeling the slightest bit aroused! You needed to go- needed to get away to think-

His hands grabbed you again, cupping your face and tilting your head up ever-so-gently, as if he thought you were made of porcelain.

“[Y/N].” Your mind blanked when you heard the way he pleaded- pleaded!

Well… if he said your name like that…

“Eris-” Your hands reached up to his- whether to hold, or to push away, you weren’t sure yet. The Vanserra male barely gave you a chance to decide before he sealed the gap between your lips, his eyes shutting while yours widened in shock, before promptly shutting them tight. 

He was kissing you. Eris Vanserra was kissing you. He thought you were brilliant, he thought you were 

The kiss was… It was…

You didn’t even know. It certainly felt like he was holding back- like he was trying to be a gentleman, and a small part of you appreciated the attempt as you moved your lips against his ever-so-slightly. His tongue didn’t swipe for your lip hungrily; his teeth didn’t tug at your bottom lip; nor did his hands move from where they held your face. Your body felt like it was on fire- a primal, lonely part of your brain urging him to lead, to do something. But he pulled away after the ‘virginal’ kiss, breathing heavily, as if it pained him to pull away- to hold himself back.

You stared up at him dumbly, eyes glittering in the autumn sun as you both stared at each other in something of shock and awe. Why did it feel like your heart was caving in when he kissed you? Why did it feel like the stars had aligned when he pressed his lips against yours so gently- so out of character for him?

“What was that?” You muttered, still shell-shocked, while he turned away, almost as if he was unwell. He shook his head- ignoring your question.

“Eris?” You urged, pulling on his arm impatiently before he turned back to face you, his voice a low murmur.

“[Y/N]... I want you to meet my father.”

╰┈➤ Lex's note 2: OH GOD. okay. OKAY, I DID IT. i did it! it's done! i have posted a chapter again!! (hopefully) i can get back to my usual posting schedule!! i have 3 more exams: 12/06, 13/06 & 15/06 so i will be a lil preoccupied for at least ten days <3 again, TYSM FOR READING IF YOU MADE IT THIS FAR!! <3 <3 also!! the two Loki requests are also currently being drafted as we speak!! thanks for waiting so long everyone!!

[wolves-and-stars]

Remus in his Element: FIC REC LIST

(A list of fics where the authors dont fuck up remus lupin, the most brilliant, wonderful man to have existed.)

Okay i would like to preface this by saying that i went throught the 2014 remus lupin is a nerd era (and thats not to say he isn't, just not thr way they made him out to be) and it was the worst. So, here are some fics that give REMUS LUPIN.

1. Subtlety, Thy Name is Sirius Black by rekahneko (ffnet) 21k

Remus thinks sirius needs to be more subtle with his flirting, sirius thinks remus is full of shit. So they make a bet to see who's right. Remus has to manage to subtely get the girl (cough cough) he has a crush on to ask him out, before sirius can agree someone else to ask him out.

Remus is so self assured and comfortable with who he is and what he wants without comprimising on his affection and actual personality.

Fire fic.

2. The lad that loved you by mollymarymarie (ao3) 81k

Remus and Sirius get into a relationship, naturally the next step is to pretend they hate each other and give james a heart attack.

Remus is so sexy in this one. The final chapter is (SPOILER) so fire when he punches snape.

3. Ten reasons (to go to michigan) by greyeyedmonster18 (ao3) 59k

Remus is a newly divorced and a best selling author, unfortunatley he has nothing left to write. So, he books a flight to the upper peninsula where he grew up. He happens to meet a starnger in a coffeeshop, who happens to change his life.

There's a scene with his ex husband, where he throws down his credit card and it is such a breath of fresh air with all the pushover remus characterizations.

4. Dating Remus Lupin by children_of_the_shadows (ao3) 83k

You will never find a fic with such brilliant characterizations of all of the marauders. All 4 of them are so unique and funnily written. Sirius is so unhinged its crazy. Hes giving bimbo, but deliberate bimbo yaknow? And remus. Ohmygod remus in this fic.

He is so emo, aloof, nonchalant. And it drives sirius up the wall. Remus gives so hard in this fic.

5. Sex pistols by Artificialaorta (ffnet) 86k

Remus is the lead gutairist for belladonna a punk rock band. His character is so cool and so sauve, but irl he is not so cool and not so sauve about sirius black, lead singer for pop band the marauders.

I love fics that dont put his character down by making him someone that just gives into everything sirius and james say and do. But still manage to keep him, himself you know?

6. Stalking sirius by remuslives23

Remus is very self assured and confident in the way he acts in this. Hes a journalist that stalks sirius and happens to be the only one that gets under the mysterious mans skin.

7. Highland Fling by Picascribit (a03) 38k

Sirius goes backpacking through scotland and happens to meet a cute bartender at the pub. Except hes staright, lives in america, and set to be engaged.

Again self assured remus. No insecurity or digs at his personality.

8. This is the Life by 1electricpirate (ao3) 15k

After the war, Sirius becomes an uptight, high-ranking Ministry official; but when an old childhood friend comes unexpectedly back in his life, he learns what it is to let go and live and love once more - the question is, will Remus let him?

Love remus in this one.

9. Rumor has it by Remy_writes5 (ao3) 15k

No student had ever figured out why Mr. Black and Mr. Lupin seemed to hate each other so much, and at this point in the year the seniors were done trying. All they had time to focus on now was finals and graduation, although the annual class trip provided a welcome distraction. Three days on a lake with their four favorite teachers and plenty of time to gossip had to be a good time, right?

10. The London Underground Book of Love by Children_of_the_Shadows

The cardinal rule of the London Underground is to never, ever make eye contact. It is a rule that, among many others, Sirius tends to follow despite his otherwise rebellious, non-rule-following nature. So the first time he makes eye contact with a human being in the subway comes as much of a shock to him as anyone else. Especially when he's unable to look away.

Remus is so cute and fluffy in this.

11. Everything's Connected by mizdiz (ao3) 44k

When he's seven years old, Sirius Black has a brief encounter with a strange boy in the woods, who, in their short exchange, teaches him an important lesson about the nature of the Universe, only to then disappear without a trace.

Nine years later, Sirius, along with his two best friends, is a student away at boarding school, with a brand new transfer student as his roommmate--a foul-mouthed, astronomy nerd named Remus Lupin.

Between school, hormones, relationships, and the fact that he is keeping a (magical) secret away from everyone--Sirius' year starts to go a little off the rails.

Not to mention, there's something familiar about that Remus Lupin kid that he just can't seem to shake...

Remus lupin is magic in this one.

12. Play Dates by DeathjunkE (ao3)

Remus and Sirius are Single Parents who meet by chance and become interested in one another.

Remus is just a simple, good, kind, baker.

13. Wizard beat by eprime (ao3) 6k

Sirius is a fanboy.

14. Remus Lupin's Guide to Successful Courting by Children of the Shadows (ffnet)

Remus has lived for twenty five years now. Due to his incapability to emote or feel many complicated things at the same time, he has always maintained a straight face, his facial features sitting at an angle of approximately a hundred and seventy four point two d though he has practiced it many times before in front of the mirror, Remus has truly never smiled.