#i finally finished the silly fic!

[drac0line1nn1t]

“What in the good lord's name is this bitter bane?”

DrAcOLiNe_InNIt

Summary:

Okay, so this was bad. Really quite terribly bad, and Wade had no fucking clue how to fix this. Wade and Logan had made a home together, but will something fuck it up? All signs point to yes, but things just keep getting better and better and-

What the fuck happened to Logan?

------

Words: 9,108

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Fandom: Deadpool (Movieverse)

Relationships: Logan | Worst Wolverine (Deadpool Movies)/Wade Wilson, Vanessa Carlysle & Wade Wilson, Vanessa Carlysle & Logan | Worst Wolverine (Deadpool Movies)

Characters: Logan | Worst Wolverine (Deadpool Movies, Wade Wilson, Vanessa Carlysle

[valfeathers]

girl boss + her serial killer

[starrystevie]

steve falls in love with eddie because he's this perfect amalgamation of everyone he's ever loved.

there's nancy's curly brown hair, of course, but also her fierce stubbornness and her bashful little smile when steve is being purposefully obtuse. there's tommy's passion, his impulsivity, his need to get under steve's skin in the best way possible. there's jonathan's quick remarks with a crooked grin and heather m's soft touches on bruised skin and robin's flailing hands when she talks that steve loves so much.

there's even the dorkiness of his kids that only amplifies when eddie's around them, all their talks of fantastic worlds that steve knows nothing about but nods along like he gets it. there's the bright blinding smiles that seem to pull at every face in the room when they win, hooting and hollering in a harmonious chorus.

steve falls in love with eddie for all of those things but also for all of the things he possesses on his own. his charm and his wit, his need to make steve smile every waking moment. the way he knows when steve needs quiet and dark so he closes the blinds before wrapping him up in his steady arms.

eddie falls in love with steve for all of the things that seem new to him.

he's never had a guy treat him like steve does, never had soft smiles and cards on valentines day, never had date nights or kisses in the daytime or a hand that fits gently against his own. he doesn't feel like a dirty secret pushed away to closets and out of windows. he doesn't see the quick glances around to make sure no one's watching before he gets into steve's car like he's used to getting with old partners. he doesn't get shushed or ignored or heartbroken.

he's used to being shrouded in darkness but steve is like sunshine, his love warming eddie like sunrays in and of themselves. he's used to confusion and questions but steve makes him feel wanted. makes him feel loved back.

steve is protective and smart. he sees through the bullshit eddie's built up around himself and holds him when those walls inevitably crumble down. eddie falls in love with steve because he sees him for who he truly is and loves him because of it.

they fall in love with each other because their jagged edges were made for one another, like puzzle pieces in the wrong box finding their way back home. they fall in love with each other because nothing else has ever felt more right. they fall in love with each other because everyone they loved before was a trial, a test, pushing them together whether they knew it or not.

[livesincerely]

crash and crave you

Or, the drunk Davey fic. Also on Ao3

00000

Jack’s hauling all six feet and change of Davey’s deadweight back to his car, trying to cram his lanky, drunken, noodle limbs into the passenger seat—Jesus Christ, he really is all leg, ain’t he?—when Davey kisses him.

Jack freezes. Goes perfectly still, frozen in place, as panic pierces his chest like a shot to the heart.

Because Davey is drunk, drunker than drunk, really, his mouth warm and a little sloppy against his own. He clings to Jack like a second skin, every inch of him soft and pliable, and he tastes like salt and tequila and that last round of fireball shots Racetrack ordered for the table.

He tastes like everything Jack’s ever wanted and nothing he’s allowed to have.

Davey makes low, unhappy noise in the back of his throat, then loops clumsy arms around Jack’s neck and tugs him closer: stubborn, insistent, and drunk, so fucking drunk, because Jack knows better than to think he’d ever do this sober.

But he smells so good—like his coconut conditioner and the fancy fabric softener he insists on and Davey—and his body fits so perfectly against his own and he’s kissing Jack like he wants him. Right here in the parking lot, half in and half out of the passenger seat of Jack’s car, with nothing but the buzzing street lamps overhead to notice Jack’s heart cracking into pieces with every second that passes.

Davey sighs against his lips, his fingers curling gently around the nape of his neck as he tries to deepen the kiss, and Jack knows better.

He knows he shouldn’t. Knows it’s a mistake. Knows that Davey—clever, gorgeous, wonderful Davey—probably won’t remember this in the morning, and Jack will never, not ever forget.

But he’s only human. He’s just a man, hopelessly in love with his best friend.

And for just a moment, he kisses him back.

Tilts his head and licks at the seam of Davey’s lips until they part, sucks his lip between his teeth and tangles their tongues together. Flattens his palm over the small of his back, braces his forearm against the car frame and lets himself exist, just this once, in a world where he’s allowed to have Davey somewhere besides his imagination.

Davey sinks sweetly into the kiss: eager and trusting and everything, he’s fucking everything and—

And—

Jack forces himself to pull away. Davey looks up at him with big, blue pleading eyes, his mouth wet and red and perfect, and fuck, Jack’s never gonna come back from this.

“Why’d you stop?” Davey mumbles, a swirly curl of hair falling over his forehead. His cheeks are pink from the rasp of Jack’s stubble. “You don’t want to kiss me?”

“Dave, I…“ 

What can he say? What can he possibly say?

He needs to apologize, needs to beg for forgiveness because Davey might be drunk off his ass but Jack absolutely is not, nursed a single beer the entire night, so there’s no excuse to fall back on. 

There’s no excuse for this.

Davey pats him on the shoulder with all the coordination of a wet mop head.

“‘S okay,” he says, almost kindly, flopping back against the passenger seat. “I don’t want to kiss you either.”

Jack’s pretty sure a baseball bat to the back of the head would’ve hurt less.

He wants to stumble away as quickly as he can, wants to see if Kath and Sarah are still out front waiting for their Uber. Maybe they’ll take Davey home instead if he asks really, really nicely and hurries away before they can ask him any questions.

Instead he sucks in a shaky breath. Carefully reaches around Davey’s waist to buckle in his seatbelt for him.

“There’s this guy,” Davey continues, hushed like he’s sharing a secret. “I wanna kiss him all— all the time. He’s handsome and funny and way, way smarter than he gives himself credit for and— and he’s just the best, you know?”

Jack does not know. Jack would rather be force-fed his own liver than know any of this.

He starts manually lifting Davey’s legs into the footwells. Tucks his feet in so they won’t block the car door.

“His name’s Jack.”

Jack stops. Freezes with his hand still wrapped around one of Davey’s ankles. Wonders, for just a second, if maybe someone did hit him over the head, actually, because—

Because the last ten minutes have been a fucking rollercoaster and he might have the world’s first genuine case of emotional whiplash, but—

His name is Jack.

…His name is Jack, right?

“Dave,” Jack starts uncertainly, but the rest of the sentence goes nowhere. Because Davey can’t possibly mean what Jack thinks he means. What he hopes beyond hope he means.

”Do you know Jack?” Davey asks, blinking up at him guilelessly.

”Uh...”

“You probably do,” he decides. “Feels like we can’t go anywhere without bumping into Jack’s neighbor’s girlfriend’s pizza delivery guy or whatever. He’s the kinda guy that knows everyone, and everyone wants to know him. But they don’t,” Davey informs him, very seriously. “Not like I do.”

“Nah,” Jack says, very softly. “No one knows ‘im like you do.”

Davey perks up. “So, you do know him!”

Jack huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, I’ve seen him around.”

”Then you know,” Davey says, with what might be an attempt at a decisive nod, but comes out as more of a wobbly, bobble-head kind of motion. Jack’s so in love with him it hurts.

”Know what, Dave?”

“How wonderful he is!” Davey enthuses. 

“I dunno ‘bout all that,” Jack murmurs.

Davey frowns: a huge, exaggerated expression that makes his forehead wrinkle adorably. “What do you mean?”

”I just…” Jack shakes his head. “What makes him any different from all the other dickheads in this city?”

Pure outrage. ”He’s not a dickhead!”

Jack lifts a brow.

“Maybe he’s a little bit of a dickhead,” Davey admits. “But not, like, a total, complete, fuck-off-forever-type , dickhead. Just like a normal amount of dickheadish-ness.”

”Oh, just the normal amount, huh?” Jack wonders, and he can feel himself smiling, just absolutely cheesing from ear to ear, unable to help himself.

”Well, nobody’s perfect,” Davey says. “But sometimes I think he’s close.”

“Well, I got it on good authority that he thinks the same thing about you,” Jack says.

“He’s my best friend,” Davey continues. “He’s— meeting him was one of the best things that ever happened to me. Because, before Jack, I was just going through the motions, you know? Just keeping my head down and trying to get through each day, and it sucked, but that’s how it goes, right? And I probably would’ve kept on like that for the rest of my life, but…”

Davey pauses, fighting to piece together his thoughts through the drunken haze. Jack’s hanging, breathless, on his every word.

“Jack’s really charming,” he eventually decides. “Larger than life. He’s got this way of looking at you and seeing you—really seeing you—no matter how hard you try to hide it. And he tries to play it off like it’s nothing, says it’s just that you can’t bullshit a bullshitter or whatever, but it’s really because he cares. Cares so much about every single person in his life, pulls them into his orbit and never lets them go, and you find new ways to believe in yourself because of how much he believes in you.”

Jesus Christ. No wonder Jack’s head over heels for him.

Davey tilts his head, then finishes, devastatingly, with: “I don’t think I knew how to dream until I met Jack.”

“He didn’t know how to plant roots and stay until he met you,” Jack confesses, reaching up to carefully brush a piece of hair out of Davey’s eyes.

Davey tracks the movement until he goes cross-eyed with it, then his mouth scrunches up into a pout.

”Where is Jack?” he asks—almost a whine—completely oblivious to havoc he’s wrought. “He’s supposed to be here.”

“I’m, uh, sure he’s around here somewhere,” Jack answers as steadily as he can. It feels like his chest’s been cracked open, all the softest parts of him spilling out through his fingers, but for once, he doesn’t mind.

”Can you go get him?” Davey asks, tugging at his shirtsleeve. “I wanna— Everything’s better when Jack’s around.”

…Would it be awful if Jack kissed him again? Because he really wants to kiss him again.

“I don’t think Jack would be okay with me leavin’ you by yourself when you’re this out of it,” Jack says instead, which would be true even if he weren’t talking about himself in the third person. “How ‘bout we wait for him to meet us out here, yeah? ‘M sure he won’t be long.”

“Feels like it’s been forever,” Davey grumbles. “I miss him.”

A thought visibly occurs to him then, the alcohol in his system slowing him down enough that Jack can track each individual change in his expression. 

With huge, watery eyes, he asks, “Did he leave without me?”

“What? Of course he didn’t.”

“I thought he was gonna— He said he’d drive me home,” Davey continues, like the thought of anything else is unfathomable. “Isn’t he gonna drive me home?” 

”He’s still gonna drive ya home,” Jack assures him. “Don't worry, he’s not goin’ anywhere without’cha.”

“But—“

“Hey, this is his car, ain’t it?” Jack soothes. “So, if his car’s still here, he’s still here, right?”

Davey looks all around himself, as if only just now realizing that he’s buckled into the passenger side of Jack’s suv. 

“This is Jack’s car,” he says slowly, tracing his fingers over the center console in bewilderment. “Why do you have the keys to Jack’s car?”

Now or never.

“Davey,” he says. “Do you know who I am?”

Davey stares at him. There’s not a lick of recognition in his gaze.

“No…” he says slowly. “Are you one of Jack’s friends?”

“Would Jack pawn you off on someone you didn’t know? Wouldn't he walk you out himself? Make sure you’re safe?”

“I don’t know,” Davey says, squinting at him. “Maybe you’re really trustworthy? You’ve got a trustworthy sort of face.”

Jack laughs—he can’t help it—and Davey's expression brightens. He leans forward, reaching out to pat at Jack’s face like his smile is the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.

“You know, Jack has a scar right here,” he says, grabbing clumsily at his chin. “He got scared by a raccoon crawling out of a dumpster and fell on his ass. It was hilarious.”

“Hey! You promised to never bring it up again!”

“No, I promised Jack I wouldn’t…” He trails off then, frowning deeply.

“Davey. Look at me.” Jack cups a hand around his cheek, tilts his head up to meet his eyes. “Who am I?”

Davey blinks at him. Ponders for a few, long seconds. 

“…You look a lot like Jack,” he says, very hesitantly.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Jack murmurs, so fond of him he could burst with it. “That’s because I am Jack.”

Another few seconds for that information to land. Some more slow, fluttery blinks. Then Davey’s entire face lights up, more dazzling than sunlight.

“Jack!” he says, overjoyed, throwing his arms around his shoulders. “Where have you been?”

“‘M right here,” Jack says, holding him close. “I’m right here with ya, Dave.”

“I miss you when you’re gone,” Davey says, and his breath is warm against Jack’s throat, his head nestled safely in the crook of his neck. “Don’t go away any more.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jack promises.

[theresthespark]

The spiral is unspooling has turned me into a devils minion FIEND. It has also given me a little too much to reflect on regarding my abandonment issues. And that ever present sense something is wrong with me and that any connection I make will inevitably be ruined bc I’m part of it.

But the writing is just IMMACULATE 10000/10 recommend

[patolemus]

wrote 1.3k words today. i'm incredibly proud of myself. i'm also so fucking behind on my assignments

[neixins]

[ID: a panel from chapter 155 of “yona of the dawn”, showing jaeha and gija side by side in a hot spring; gija is fidgeting. a text post by gallopinggallifreyans has been added above them; it reads: “two bros, both alike in sexuality / in a hot tub, where we lay our scene”. end ID.]

[insecure-amphibian]

[benevolenterrancy]

Do any NieYao (or general 3zun) shippers follow me? I've been tossing around the idea of a nieyao fic but I'm getting tripped up by timeline shit because good lord JGY's life is a nightmare... is there anyone who wouldn't mind either:

a) chatting with me about timeline/canon stuff to help me get sorted

b) sending me recs of their favourite nieyao fics 👀 for, uh, strictly research related purposes for sure for sure

[sysig]

He was a human pirate, which you wouldn’t think you’d have to specify and yet (Patreon)

[thearcanecat]

Blorbo from my shows? No. Blorbo from my college readings.

[queerdiazs]

wip wednesday, mwah

hi, friends 🫶🏼 pls have a very late, semi-horny snippet from my 5+1(+1) fic

Shutting his eyes, Eddie tucks his face in the hollow of Buck’s throat and breathes in Buck’s sweaty, sleepy-soft scent. He hooks one of Buck’s legs in the bend of his arm, reaches down to grip the base of his length, and rubs the head of his cock against Buck’s slick, swollen hole before shoving all the way inside in one go.  Buck takes him easily, eagerly, wet and warm and fingered loose enough Eddie could’ve fit his whole fist if he tried. He arches up with a pretty sigh that hangs in his throat, raking his fingers through Eddie’s hair and grabbing tight to bring Eddie’s mouth down to his.  The kiss is dirty, deep and wet and messy. Eddie frames Buck’s face with his elbows, sucks on Buck’s tongue like it’s his lifeline, and Buck gives over a rush of perfect mewls that make Eddie’s tummy boil.  Fuzzy yellow light filters through the tall windows of their bedroom, warming Eddie’s back and ass and legs. He shivers, comfortable and held tight, held close, wrapped all up in Buck he’s not sure where either one of them begins and ends. Smiling, Eddie pulls away from Buck’s dirty kiss. “Hey, pretty boy,” he whispers softly, licking away the string of spit stretching between their mouths. Buck’s so cute when he’s full of cock, cross-eyed and slack-jawed and a little stupid with pleasure, like he’s good for nothing else except getting fucked. He shifts his hips back and fucks forward, hard, just to watch the way Buck’s lips part on a sigh of his name.  A little grin stretches across Buck’s lips because he knows how perfect he looks when he’s taking it. “Don’t have to flatter me,” he says, looping his arms around Eddie’s shoulders. “I’m a sure thing.”  “Asshole.” Eddie laughs, leaning into Buck’s touch. He’s warmer than the morning sunshine on his back. “You piss me off so much.”  “And yet you can’t keep your dick out of me.”  Eddie nuzzles along Buck’s cheek, across his chin and up, till he can kiss the tip of Buck’s nose. “Keep it up,” he says, pinching the back of Buck’s fat thigh, “and I’ll withhold my dick for a whole month.”  “Liar. You can’t resist me.”  “I can so resist you.”  Buck snorts, rolls his eyes, and pulls Eddie back down for a giggly, goofy kiss. 

it's so late so, but i was tagged by @watchyourbuck, @jesuisici33, @wildlife4life, @wikiangela, @exhuastedpigeon, @eddiebabygirldiaz, @try-set-me-on-fire, @honestlydarkprincess, @loserdiaz, @callmenewbie, @daffi-990, and @ladydorian05 🫶🏼

[ego-slaughter]

Best Dressed

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén

Rating: Teen

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationship: Ortega/Sidestep

Characters: Sidestep, Ricardo Ortega

Additional Tags: Gender-Neutral Sidestep, post-crash, innocent ending, fluff and angst, sorta hurt/comfort, Sidestep mopes, Ortega tries to cheer them up, Ortega is an absolute menace

Summary: "...what the hell are you wearing?"

As always if you're in a country that blocks Ao3 just dm me for a pdf.

[kaelleid]

never believe it's not so

OFMD, Izzy & the crew of the Revenge, 2.6k words

The crew decides Stede Bonnet is a witch. Izzy would like for them to stop talking about it and go back to work. Written for OFMD JanuAUry Day 14 - Magic.

[shamelesslymkp]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Glee (TV 2009) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel Characters: Blaine Anderson, Kurt Hummel Additional Tags: Dom/sub, caging and confinement, Orgasm Control, Bondage, Semi-Public bondage, Forced Orgasm, Overstimulation, brief affectionate humiliation (calling someone a slut as a compliment), Covert Public Kink

Summary:

AUTHOR: *shows back up in the glee fandom ten years later with starbucks and the kinky klaine christmas story she started writing in 2014*

AUTHOR: well. the story is about kink, obviously. and cages. and kinky things you can do with cages. and love! very much about love!

AUTHOR: you know what. have an excerpt:

“It’s a holiday party, Blaine, we ought to be properly festive.” Kurt was all smoky eyes and throaty voice, which was just not fair. “Besides,” he added, tugging on Blaine’s bowtie, “I rather like the thought of you all wrapped up in ribbon. My own perfect present, just waiting for me to unwrap you later.” He stepped in closer, practically breathing the next sentence into Blaine’s mouth: “And if you’re very, very good, you’ll be getting your own present later.”

[cookinguptales]

I'm dying, I had another fandom breakup several years ago where I also poured my frustration into a deeply pornographic fic.

The main differences are:

different fandom, obviously

this was actually one of the last fics I ever wrote for that fandom, it really was a kiss off. the only fics I posted after it were just me finishing up some prior obligations.

I actually wrote it and posted it, as opposed to the pornographic vent fic I was writing for wwdits that I set aside for now.

I APPARENTLY POSTED IT TO TUMBLR FIRST?

I know this because someone just reblogged it (and said some really kind things, thank you ;;) and I had completely forgotten that I'd been so deep in my fit of pique that I was like "well this is vent fic that I wrote to cope with my frustration towards canon, not REAL fic, so I should post it to tumblr, not AO3."

At first I was just laughing over the sheer timing of it all, someone digging up this ancient post with like 25 notes from many years ago the exact same week that I'm having angst over the fandom I replaced the old one with, but then I actually clicked on the post in my notifications and was like.

wait.

did I.... post a sixteen-thousand-word fic to tumblr?

I DID. AND PEOPLE READ IT??? like that's the fucking wild part, that people were willing to sit down and read a fucking sixteen-thousand-word fic under a read more on tumblr. people were so strong back then.

(thankfully, I was convinced to crosspost it to AO3 a few days later, which actually made the fucker readable.)

the sheer ridiculousness of my tantrum (and my weird internal classification for what fic "deserved" to be on AO3 vs. what should just quietly be forgotten on tumblr) has me laughing. which I think was actually kind of needed, haha. we all need to laugh at our own fandom angst sometimes.

if I do end up finishing and posting the wwdits ventfic, I promise I'll actually post it on AO3. lmao