#i have half chapters of my wip's ready...

[aqpippin]

i’m gonna do two six sentence sundays bc i can 😛 one before i go to sleep and one later

[ladykailitha]

Never Hold Back Your Step... Part 10

Hello! Just a little morsel of this wonderful for you all. Next week should be me being back on this and the other WIPs full time and hopefully get them done. I'd say this one and Well Met By Moonlight are the closest to being done.

I never intended this one to get anywhere close to canon, but I was talked into going all the way to the end of season four, though it is seriously looking season 5 will get there before I finish book 3.

Not that anything in season five will change the trajectory of this story unless they bring Eddie back.

Anyway...the reason I'm even bringing it up is if you're hoping for a season three re-write, you aren't going to get one. Not really. I'm going to gloss over a lot of it except the end with Billy and the Mind Flayer.

In this chapter a wild, angry, Robin appears. And the shorts. Can't forget those.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

~

It really shouldn’t have been a surprise that Steve got offered the job at Scoops Ahoy. But of all the places he applied at and yes he applied at all of them, dad, only they offered him a position.

But he sucked it up and went to orientation. He sat there with roughly a half of dozen kids his age and tried not squirm in his seat as at least half of them glared daggers at him. The worst offender was a blonde girl with freckles and blue eyes who kept sneering at him.

The manager walked them through the employee handbook and took their information for tax purposes. And then the final nail in the coffin hit and Steve was mortally wounded.

The uniform.

Oh god, was the thing hideous. He was sure that he was going to be the laughing stock of all of Hawkins. The little shorts, the ridiculous red scarf and the stupid hat. If his dad wasn’t so insistent about the thing, he’d quit. He’d beg Mr. Jones back for his job at the rec center.

But as it was he had to take two sets of this terrible outfit with a pained smile and clenched jaw.

The only good thing he got out of this nightmare was that his mom let him buy new sneakers to go with the damn thing.

He stood in front of the mirror with a sickening sense of dread, he was going to have to find something to put in front of the shorts otherwise the things bordered on the obscene. It showed his package to unfortunate degree.

~

Steve’s first day of work was a nightmare and considering the past couple of years, that really was saying something.

He was scheduled to work with the blonde girl who was trying to bore daggers into him with her eyes.

Her name was Robin Buckley, she was about to enter her senior year of Hawkins High, and she rode her bike into work each day.

She looked at the white towel he had tucked into the front of his shorts with a raised eyebrow. “That isn’t part of the uniform, you know?” she sneered, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

He sighed. She reminded him of Mike. A chip on her shoulder and an axe to grind. “I’ve already cleared it with the manager,” he picked up the corner of it and waved it her direction. “It’s either the towel or an arrest for public indecency.”

Robin eyed the towel suspiciously. “And if I talk to Paul, he’ll tell me the same thing?”

He threw his arms in the air in exasperation. “Yes!”

She rolled her eyes and started pulling off the lids of the ice cream, so Steve took that as the matter being closed and got to work pulling the chairs off of the tables and tucking them in.

Once they got everything open, ready for business, and serving customers Steve realized he had another problem. One he didn’t know how to manage.

At all.

“Why didn’t you flirt with her?” Robin asked after a pretty blonde girl left with her double strawberry cone.

Steve blinked at her a moment before he realized what had happened. The girl had been batting her eyelashes and twirling her hair around a finger. She had been hitting on him hard and he hadn’t noticed.

Shit.

“Not my type,” he muttered, wiping down the counter even though it was already spotless. “I prefer brunettes.”

“Ew...” she hissed. “I didn’t want to know that.”

Steve rolled his eyes and just kept his mouth shut for the rest of their shift together.

~

Eddie couldn’t stop laughing. He was doubled over on the couch and just rolling with laughter.

“It’s not funny!” Steve protested. “This is dire. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

Eddie wiped the tears from his eyes as he struggled to sit up. “I’m sorry, babe, but you have to admit that’s one hell of problem to have.”

Steve buried his head into hands with a groan. If it wasn’t him that was facing down this particular barrel, he’d be right beside Eddie laughing his ass off.

“Flirt badly.”

Steve raised his head to look at his boyfriend. “What?”

“Flirt badly,” Eddie repeated. “You know what works, so do the opposite of that.”

Steve scratched his face as he thought about it. That could work. “I can try. I just didn’t want you thinking that I was ashamed of you or that I was looking for someone else if I did that.”

Eddie pulled him in for a hug and kissed the top of his head. “And I appreciate that, sweetheart but you don’t have to worry about that from me. If there is anyone that understands what you’re going through, baby, it’s me.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath.

“Yeah, okay.”

He lifted his head and pressed a kiss to the underside of Eddie’s jaw. Eddie hummed happily.

“I’m going to have to come visit you so I can see you in those slutty little shorts.”

Steve groaned for a different reason. “Please don’t. And don’t tell any of our friends I work there, either. It’s bad enough that the kids are going to find out and mock me.”

Eddie lifted his chin a little higher so he could look him in the eyes. “There might be some light mocking, but it’s not going to be malicious or mean. You’re going to get enough of that from the kids.”

Steve let his eyelids flutter shut as he kissed him warm and tenderly. It was hard for him to let go the fact that he had real friends now, friends that wouldn’t mock or tease him just because they could.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Okay.”

Eddie got to his feet and helped Steve to his. “Come on, darlin’, let me cheer you up.”

Steve willingly follow him into his bedroom. He was just glad Uncle Wayne wasn’t home. He had learned the hard way there was no way that Steve could keep quiet when Eddie was making love to him.

Eddie kicked his door closed behind them and Steve let himself be taken care of.

~

Steve didn’t work with Robin all of the time, but when he did he wanted to pour melted ice cream over her head. She was a bitch and while Steve was a fan of that in general, she was being a bitch to him for no reason he could discern.

Then the first of the kids arrived. It was Mike and Lucas. Which normally isn’t a problem, but without the tempering aspects of Dustin and Will’s nature keeping them in check, the sass was out on display.

“Come on, Steve,” Mike was saying when he finally tuned back into their whining. “We spent all our money at the music shop and now we don’t have any money for the movie.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “And how is that my problem?”

“All the shops have a back hallway that link up to each other,” Lucas explained. “So you if let us through then we can slip into the theater and we can see the movie without paying.”

He was about to say no when Eddie walked in. So because he wanted to actually spend time with his boyfriend, he agreed to them out of his hair.

Plus he knew the movie they wanted to see and thought it would be fucking hilarious for them to have nightmares about it and then have to explain to their parents how they saw a movie they weren’t supposed to without giving up their source.

Mike’s in particular would bring him joy because he would absolutely narc on Steve but no one would believe him because of his strong dislike for him.

He came back from letting the kids through to see Eddie being served by Robin.

“I’ll take a double bowl,” he muttered. “Play-dough and bubble gum please.”

Steve had bit down on his tongue to keep from laughing when he saw how hard Robin was trying to keep the look of disgust off her face.

“Are you really going to eat that?” she asked, handing it over.

Steve patted her on the shoulder. “Yep, yep he is. I’m taking my break, but I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

She looked at the two of them in shock. “You two know each other?”

“Yep! Since before Christmas,” Eddie said grinning at her.

“He helped me out when I was puking in class from the concussion Hargrove gave me,” Steve added.

“Gross!” she sneered.

Steve and Eddie just shrugged her off and went to go sit at a booth.

“That stuff will give you cavities,” Steve said, leaning forward to peer into Eddie’s styrofoam cup.

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Like you wouldn’t live off the butterscotch one if you had a chance.”

He cocked his head to the side and then shrugged. “Fair.”

“I will say I’m feeling a little deceived at the moment,” Eddie said with a wink.

“Oh?”

Eddie took a big bite of his ice cream and shook his head fondly. “Those shorts aren’t as nearly as short as advertised.”

This time Steve threw his head back and laughed. “It’s not the length that makes the obscene, sunshine. It’s how tight they are.”

“If you say so, big boy,” Eddie huffed digging into his ice cream for another big bite. “So is the music shop here any good?”

Steve shook his head. “Not for a dyed in the wool metal fan such as yourself. Mike was complaining about how it was all pop and new age. And huge fucking country section.”

Eddie sneered around his spoon. “One day I will find good music in this town.”

“Maybe that’s the sign that you should get out of Ford,” Steve said. “After you graduate for Wayne of course.”

“It’s Dodge.”

Steve looked up to see Robin sneering at him again. “What is?”

“The saying,” she said leaning forward. “It’s get out of Dodge.”

“Why would it be dodge?” he asked with a frown of confusion.

“That’s the name of the frontier town that the saying is referring to,” Eddie said gently.

Steve mouthed ‘oh’ and then nodded. “Gotcha.”

Robin scoffed. “So you’ll take his word for it over mine?”

Eddie and Steve shared a glance.

“Yeah,” he said shaking his head slightly. “Because I know him?”

Robin’s head reared back in shock.

“He’s got you there, birdie,” Eddie said, finishing off the last of his ice cream.

She scoffed again and went into the back to ignore them both.

“I think that’s my cue to leave, darlin’,” Eddie cooed. “I’ll see you tonight, all right?”

Steve nodded. “My parents have left again, with ‘plans’ to return for the 4th of July, so just come on over.”

Eddie nodded back and gave Steve’s shoulder a squeeze as he threw out his cup, wiping his hands on a napkin.

Steve watched as he left, feeling as if Robin’s eyes were boring into the back of his head again.

It was going to be a long summer.

~

Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Tag List: 10 slots remaining

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2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @blondie1006

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6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @angels-of-hades

7- @mugloversonly @y4r3luv @greeniebean911 @birbsauce @acingthecounts

8- @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @ravenfrog @dreamercec @sadisticaltarts

[saintvainglorious]

10 Best Black Sails Fics I Read in 2023

In honor of Black Sails' 10th anniversary, here's a list of my top 10 favorite Black Sails fics I read in 2023, in order from shortest to longest. Most Black Sails fic rec posts I've seen are now around 2 or 3 years old (though not all, bless @jaynovz and your #jay's esoteric rec lists tag) so nearly half of the recs in this list spotlight newer fics. It's amazing to see fantastic fics still being written and updated years after the show ended - y'all are keeping this fandom alive!

I didn't read that much Black Sails fic this year, comparatively speaking, so I'm sure there's plenty of newer gems that I missed. All the fics in this rec list are Silverflint unless otherwise stated.

1 - Gone To Port Royal by Apetslife (G, 3k) - a delightful oneshot from Gates' POV where they all go to a pirate afterlife. every scene is perfect. endlessly re-readable and never fails to make me smile.

Definition of Valhalla 1: the great hall in Norse mythology where heroes slain in battle are received 2 : a place of honor, glory, or happiness: heaven

2 - i’ll be seeing you by youatemytailor/@annevbonny (NR, 19k) - this is THEE post-canon Silverflint reunion fic. the anguish, the rage, the quiet jokes, the tenderness, it's all devastatingly in-character. particularly the chapter 5 climactic unspooling leaves me in awe upon every reread.

Silver is out of his chair and across the room before he knows it. He has a grip on the barkeep’s shirt before he knows it, and he’s pulling him up, hauling him eye-level, only to head-butt him to the ground again. The barkeep’s mouth is thrown open in a wail, but there’s no sound, Silver thinks, no sound at all, save for the blood rushing in his ears as he looks at the other man on the ground, watches him roll to his side with a groan. Flint, Silver thinks, and nothing else. It beats around the knife in his gut like a drum. Flint. And then Flint is looking at him.

3 - The Dark Lord Proprietor by Amiril/@runawaymarbles (M, 19k, Silverflintham) - a fuckin hysterical supervillain AU. Thomas has amnesia, Flint is pining, Silver tries to get them back together. what could go wrong? could not stop cackling.

A year ago, James Flint was in a stable relationship and was within spitting distance of taking over London. Now he’s single, with a dubiously loyal henchman, a lairmate determined to learn his every weakness, and a Secret Past with the new supervillain on the scene. And thanks to a new government program, it’s all a race to the bottom.

4 - the cross dimensional nassau bar of getting izzy hands laid by FortinbrasFTW/@fortinbrasftw (E, 19k ~WIP~, Flint/OFMD Izzy Hands) - a Black Sails OFMD Flint/Izzy Hands crossover. the very best kind of smut-as-character study. funny, gripping, and endlessly re-readable.

The first thing Izzy realizes is he looks absolutely fucking furious — which yeah, alright, fair enough. He’s got shorter ginger hair. A beard like Izzy’s but kept neater. Earrings like Izzy’s but worn simpler. Bleeding like Izzy but, well, maybe a bit less. And he’s handsome. Izzy realizes it suddenly and slowly somehow all at once. Bit like a bloody painting even. The kind you saw up on walls in rich folk’s houses. Only, well, no painting had eyes like that, did it? You’d have to be mad to keep a painting with eyes like that in your home. They were bright and clear and looked — honest-to-fucking-Christ — ready to set the whole damned world on fire. Izzy's terrible, horrible, no good, very bad night takes an interesting turn thanks to a completely different sort of pirate captain.

5 - frail and fragile bars by Ajaxthegreat/@francisthegreat (E, 21k) - Silver realizes, post-shark date, that he's in love with Flint. an instant, iconic fave fic. SO many delicious scenes and quotes that live rent free in my head. just read it, you won't regret it.

“I think you fuck,” Silver says. By which he means, with great intent: I think you are human. I know you are human. I see you.

6 - the whole estate of mortal man by Amiril/@runawaymarbles (T, 43k) - Creature Silver AU where he'll grant wishes in exchange for souls. first read this fic in 2020 and cried. reread it this year and cried again. the nature of the AU intersects so cleverly with Black Sails' themes, and the end result is devastating.

Silver has a limited memory, an unlimited lifespan, and a need for human souls. He spends months trying to buy Flint’s.

7 - our feast is but beginning by x_etoile_x/@etoilesombre (E, 55k) - Flint teaches season 1 Silver how to cook. they're definitely not dating. no, really. this writer writes dialogue so in-character that it cuts like a knife. features sensual cooking, Flint being a queer mentor for Silver, fun genderfuckery, and Them Being Real Tender.

Flint should walk away. Silver can figure out how to feed the men, it isn’t his problem. But roasting a pig is so easy, and when was the last time he had a hand in creating something rather than destroying it? Anyway, what else is he doing, with Billy taking the crew in hand with such annoying competency? He absolutely does not think about why he is reluctant for this interaction with Silver to end. “Go get another pig,” he says before he can reconsider. “Do exactly as I say.”

8 - With Strange Aeons by Amiril/@runawaymarbles (M, 60k, Silverflint + Flinthamilton + Jackanne) - Came for the Silverflint, stayed for the Silverflint but also for holy fuck Jack and Anne are sent to Savannah and break out of there with Thomas to battle literal Cthulhu. How can you NOT read this. I don't typically read Flinthamilton, but by god Thomas is amazing in this.

After the disappearance and presumed death of Captain Flint and Long John Silver, Max smuggles Jack and Anne to Oglethorpe’s plantation. Thomas learns that not only do the three of them have a friend in common, but he is not the only one whose dreams are haunted by a strange city and a terrifying name. Meanwhile, Flint and Silver try to escape an island trapped in time, impossibly built and impossibly old. Along the way they’re forced question reality, each other, and themselves. And in his house in R’lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming.

9 - The Salt and the Sea by x_etoile_x/@etoilesombre (E, 60k) - a between season 2 and 3 recovery fic. i still remembered months after reading that chapter 4 in particular left me undone. a harrowing journey into the ruins of post-leg loss Silver's mind, plus exquisite hurt/comfort.

John Silver was always able to make the best of a situation. If this particular situation had started to feel complicated, well, a vast fortune ought to prove clarifying. Whatever he might have imagined he’d seen in Flint, the reality was they had used each other. And he had been set to walk away on top. Except now he couldn’t. Now he was trapped.

10 - the straight walk home by vowelinthug/@vowel-in-thug (E, 73k, Silverflint + Jackanne + Maxanne + Billy/Vane) - A western AU and one of the best long fics in the fandom. Excellent comedy, amazing AU twists on our favorite characters, found family vibes, nail-biting action, and a fucking fantastic climax. Also, I can't believe this fic got me invested in Billy/Vane.

Let me tell you a story, about a vaquero named Vasquez...

[watchyourbuck]

hey sofia! how are you? any new wips you have that you could a sneak peak for? any old ones you miss working on? have a good day!

omg stop i love this question!! hi nonny!! im oki, just busy<3 how are you?? also yes!! ill share a lil smth of each °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

so as for new wips, im working on a stablished buddietommy fic that should be ready on tuesday if all goes well

Buck made a sound at that, hiding in Eddie’s neck. He placed a few lazy kisses right under his pulse point, relishing in the little mewl it got him. “What time is it?” “Late enough to get on with the day,” Eddie whispered, glancing at Tommy from over Buck’s frame. He was still asleep, covered to his pits. So, that’s who’d taken the sheets. “Want any breakfast?”

i also have an abandoned buddie fic (jealous + getting together). idk whether to continue, what do you think?

Putting the phone down, an idea brew deep down. It’s not like he’d encourage himself to pursue it, but these days his free will was dauntingly compromised. He swallowed. This could go one of two ways, and he wasn’t very keen on finding out which. However, the more he thought about it, the more appealing it sounded. His pleasure wasn’t his own anymore, and giving away the one part of himself he could control could do the trick. To forget, to move on. Move on from Eddie.

concerning wips that i have paused we have murder husbands, which i swear im getting back to. heres a snippy from chapter 4

He swallowed, the man’s spit running down his throat and out the corners of his mouth. Messily. “Fuck me,” he urged; demanded. Buck’s right hand flew up, covering half his face with it. He felt the back of his eyes tense. Too much pressure. “I don’t take orders from you.”

and my absolute love love baby wip which is the prince au (snippy from chapter 3):

The stranger was slightly shorter than the Prince, dressed in proper, yet not elegant enough attire to be a royal. His hair was darker than night, and so were his eyes, although what stood apart the most was the overwhelming worry on them. His hand traveled from the Prince’s upper arm to his forearm, then back up. Then Edmundo put his head on the man’s shoulder.

id also share something from Arcane3 (the build a fic game fic - see pinned post on my blog), but this post is already entirely too long so sdfghj thank you for ur ask i truly enjoyed answering <33 MHAW

tagging a few besties! take this as my friday tag game! @spagheddiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @honestlyeddie-im-bi @babybibuck @diazsdimples @hippolotamus @steadfastsaturnsrings @sunshinediaz @hoodie-buck @buckleyobsessed @bucksbirthmark @urfactual @eddiebabygirldiaz @thewolvesof1998 @jesuisici33 @loserdiaz @monsterrae1 @bigfootsmom @tizniz @spotsandsocks @devirnis @bidisasterevankinard @theotherbuckley @exhuastedpigeon @firemedicdiaz @kitteneddiediaz @your-catfish-friend @cal-daisies-and-briars @elvensorceress @daffi-990 @neverevan (let me know if you wish to be removed!)

[gender-fluidbees]

who wants to read the first chapter of my byler fake dating wip to decide if I should keep writing it?

The Byers-Hopper living room had been temporarily turned into a large cave of sleeping bags and blankets. They had managed to get away with the excuse of Max and El coincidentally having a sleepover at the same time the boys did. Not at all a mixed event. Dustin had been trying to throw popcorn into Max’s mouth while Lucas bugged Will with the same question he had been asking since he came out to them.

“When are you gonna get a boyfriend?” Lucas whined.

Will rolled his eyes and set his soda down on the floor next to him.

“As soon as I find a gay boy in Hawkins that is out and wants to date me,” he said with a dry tone that implied the odds of that were very slim, at which Dustin scoffed as if personally offended without looking away from his mission.

“Will, if I liked boys, I would be all over you,” he insisted.

They all laughed as Will pulled a disgusted face, though he appreciated the gesture.

“Thanks, man, but I’m good.”

“You must like someone,” said Lucas with a raised eyebrow.

Will’s eyes darted to Mike, lightning quick so no one would catch it, but he met his gaze before looking away and clearing his throat.

“Leave him alone, guys,” Mike said, annoyed. Max’s eyebrows appeared to launch off her forehead but she said nothing. Of course Mike would be the one to help him, to protect him. He always was, wasn’t he?

There was a moment of silence before El stood up and stretched.

“I am getting more pizza,” she announced and Dustin went to join her.

They managed to make it another two hours before the topic came up again. This time, surprisingly, it was El who said something. Everyone else was getting ready for bed and she sat next to him on the floor.

“Do you not like anyone?” she asked earnestly. Will sighed.

“It’s complicated.”

She paused before saying, “I hope it stops being complicated. I hope you get him.”

Will smiled and hugged his sister as everyone walked back into the room.

“What are we talking about?” asked Dustin.

“Boys,” El told him.

“Yes! Get my boy some di-“

“MAX!” Will interrupted before she could finish her sentence. His face flushed a dark red and he shook his head in disbelief. This feeling only increased when he saw Mike trying to cover up a laugh with a cough.

“Something funny, Michael?” he asked.

“Nope,” he said, finally laughing out loud.

That laugh. Will had heard it all his life and yet he never tired of it. The way his nose scrunched and his cheeks dusted with pink. It was Will’s favorite way to draw him.

They had all settled in to watch a movie, and the subject was not brought up, but Will’s mind wouldn’t let the topic go.

When would he get a boyfriend, if ever? Why was he stuck on Mike after all these years? Why couldn’t he just move on?

“Hey,” Mike said in his ear from beside him on the floor, “You ok?” 

Will swallowed. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Mike’s breath had been hot on his cheek and they were pressed up so close against the couch. Will wiped his sweaty hands and excused himself to go to the bathroom. He just needed a moment to breathe.

When he reached the bathroom and closed the door, he finally felt his limbs relax. It had only been about a minute and a half before there was a knock at the bathroom door.

“Yeah?” Will called.

“Will, it’s Mike, I just came to check on you.”

He opened the door to let Mike in and closed it once more. The two boys sat on the cold tile, knees touching ever so slightly.

“What’s going on?” he asked softly and Will sighed deeply.

“It’s stupid, I’m just a bit tired of all the relationship questions.”

Mike nodded sagely and his brows furrowed. Will knew that face. It was the same face Mike made when he had an idea for a campaign. That was a dangerous face.

“Miiiike. What are you planning?” he pouted, shoving the boy.

“Shh, let me think,” he said, putting his finger to Will’s lips for a second. He went cross eyed to look at the hand on his mouth and his heart picked up about ten paces. Mike removed his hand and stood up, beginning to pace the small bathroom and Will stood soon after in confusion.

“Okay, so the party won’t stop bothering you about dating someone, yes?”

“Yes?” Will said slowly.

“And your family is worried you're lonely, yes?”

“Hey! I-”

“Shut up and let me finish. I want to move out of my dad’s house but he won’t let me…” Mike trailed off as if Will could finish the thought for him.

“Mike, literally what do those things have to do with each other?”

He looked at Will like it was obvious and held his hands out in a general ‘duh’ gesture.

“You date me!”

Will caught a glimpse of the face he made in the bathroom mirror, and no words could describe what that emotion was. Will calls it, ‘my-best-friend-who-is-a-boy-and-very-straight-who-I-am-in-love-with-says-I-should-date-him.’

It took a moment for Will to get the word out of his mouth, as it had gotten very dry. “What?”

“You date me! Pretend, of course-”

“Of course.”

“-so everyone leaves you alone and my dad kicks me out because he’s a piece of shit. Everybody wins!”

After a moment, he deduced that Mike was not joking, and the panic receptors in his brain which never did their job correctly made him laugh. Loudly.

“What are you smoking, Mike?”

“What?” Mike asked, offended. He seemed to think it was a great plan. Will caught his breath and leaned against the wall.

“Mike, no one’s gonna buy that. Also, it is not worth losing your family over a joke. What if he- what if he hurt you?”

As Will tried to get Mike to see reason, some part of him wanted to say yes. Some awful, selfish, thirteen year old part of him wanted Mike in whatever way he could get him even if it was fake. 

Mike seemed to think Will’s words over, and he had a moment of hope that the boy would change his mind.

“You think he would hurt me?” Mike asked, as if this had never occurred to him.

“Mike, I’m not saying your dad’s a bad person, but-”

“He’s the scum of the earth, but continue.”

“People do crazy things when they think someone they love might be g- might be like me.”

Mike’s face twisted in a way that churned Will’s stomach. No, don’t be sad, don’t look like a kicked puppy. 

“Well then we gotta do it.”

“What?!?” Will exclaimed, more confused than ever. He thought he had changed his mind, not egged him on.

“Think about it. If Hawkins has a publicly gay couple, it could make it easier for other people.”

“You want it to be public?” Will screeched. Okay, Mike had officially lost his mind, because if he thought the bullying was bad already, just wait until he announced he was a boykisser.

Mike grinned. “Are you agreeing?”

“No! I’m the opposite of agreeing! I’m disagreeing! I am the antithesis to whatever point it is that you’re trying to make!”

Mike just laughed. “The point is it’s a win-win situation. We say we’re dating, we hold hands in front of people, maybe kiss a few times then we stage a break up. No harm done.”

Kiss. He wanted them to kiss. Well, no, not wanted, but he suggested it. Oh god.

“You do realize if your father kicks you out, you might never speak to him again.”

“If that’s the worst case scenario, then this plan is better than I thought.”

Will sighed again, running his hands over his face. He only had so much willpower. The boy he had been in love with for years was offering a free trial on a silver platter and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“How would it work?” he asked quietly, trying not to read into the way Mike’s face lit up when he said it.

“We would walk downstairs now holding hands and tell the party we’re dating. Then tomorrow we tell your family. Word gets around, my dad explodes, I move in with Nancy.”

“That’s it? That’s your genius plan? We need to figure out every step. How long have we been dating? Who asked who? When did you realize you were gay? Are you even gay or are you bisexual? Do we…”

Will trailed off and grinded his teeth. Mike cocked his head.

“Do we what?”

“...kiss?”

Mike paused a second before laughing at Will’s hushed tone.

“I would hope so, if we were dating.”

Will rolled his eyes and grabbed Mike by the shoulders to make him look at him, ignoring the way his heart fluttered at the contact. He needed to get this point across.

“Mike. If we were fake dating. If we kissed. Then that means that you would have to kiss me. On the lips. Me and you,” he said clearly, sure that this would be the deal breaker to snap him out of it. Instead, Mike just looked at him with the same serious face, pushing Will’s hands off his shoulders.

“Will. I know. That’s how kissing works,” he said with a shit eating grin.

“And you’re okay with that?”

This was Will’s lifelong dream and worst nightmare all wrapped into one.

“Yeah, I mean, it would be weird if it was like Lucas or something but it’s you.”

He said it so plainly, so surely that Will knew he meant it. And that hurt so wonderfully. His head was spinning. No, he did not want to kiss him, but he would rather kiss him than another boy. He offered.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?” Mike asked, making Will roll his eyes.

“Mike, when would I have ever had the chance to kiss someone?”

Mike just shrugged and leaned back against the sink. “Wanna practice? Y’know, before we kiss in front of someone else.”

Will blanched. “I- I still haven’t agreed, technically.”

His heart seemed to be trying to escape his ribcage and he willed it to calm down. This was not happening. Mike smiled at him, that wonderful smile, and knelt down on one knee, holding out cupped hands in front of him.

“William Byers, will you do me the honor of fake dating me?”

There was a pause, and then, “Ugh, fine. Get off the floor, it’s dirty.”

Mike stood and brushed off his pants with a haughty sort of pride at having convinced him. The boys looked at each other for a moment, saying nothing.

“So, uh, what now?” Will asked, fidgeting.

“You never answered my other question.” Mike said, stepping closer. Will’s heart pounded.

“What other question?”

Mike took another step so he was almost pressed against Will, but not quite.

“Wanna practice?”

Oh god. What was he supposed to say? Which answer was less suspicious? If he said yes, he would seem too eager, but if he said no, it would look like he was hiding something.

Mike studied his face and took a quick step back, looking guilty. “Hey, we don’t have to kiss at all if you’re not comfortable with that. Maybe we’re not a PDA couple.”

Will groaned internally. Had he just missed his one chance to kiss Mike Wheeler? It’s not like that offer was going to present itself again.

“No,” he said too quickly, “I mean, no it doesn’t make me uncomfortable. We can… kiss.”

Mike raised an eyebrow and stepped back into Will’s personal space.

“You sure?”

“M’sure,” he breathed.

Mike slowly reached out to grab his chin and Will tried not to squirm. His hands were big enough to cradle his whole face if he wanted to. He felt himself being tugged forward slightly and Mike Wheeler was kissing him. It was… disappointing. Will forgot to close his eyes or do anything with his lips and his hands were just hanging at his sides uselessly. Mike pulled away slightly. Well, that was it. His first kiss. Wahoo.

“You gonna kiss me back or what?” he asked with a smirk, his voice slightly scratchy, setting every nerve ending in his body on fire.

Their lips touched again, and this time he responded. He closed his eyes and kissed him back. Their lips slotted awkwardly at first, but Will tilted his head to the right and there it was. This was the kiss that he had wanted. It was soft and his heart was in his throat as he was trying so hard to not fuck it up. Mike pressed closer to him, putting a hand on the wall beside him. His lips opened slightly, prying Will’s open as he skated his tongue across his bottom lip. Will inhaled sharply through his nose and pulled away so he could breathe. His lips tingled slightly and he felt like he was only half awake.

“We should probably go back downstairs,” Mike said plainly, looking unaffected. Will drew in a deep breath to steady his thoughts and nodded. Mike stepped away and held out his hand for Will to take.

“Shall we?”

Will took his hand shakily and their fingers interlocked. They had actually held hands before. They did it a lot as kids until they were told they weren’t supposed to. Mike’s hands were much bigger now than they had been back then, and Will hoped his weren’t too sweaty.

They made their way downstairs, hand in hand in the dark living room. All eyes flicked over to them from the TV, aside from Max who hadn’t been looking in the first place.

“What took you so long?” she asked while everyone else silently clocked their intertwined hands.

“Uh, sorry. Headache,” Will said plainly.

“Bullshit,” Max called from the couch.

“What?”

“Bullshit. What happened?”

Although she was blind, Max still never missed anything.

“Uh, well,” Mike said, cheeks coloring, “Me and Will are kinda dating.”

Everyone was quiet for a moment and Will considered taking his chances with a tall building, but then there was a cacophony of, “Finally!” and “I knew it!”, which Mike made a face at, but said nothing. 

Eventually, everyone was tired enough to actually go to sleep, and they began to settle into their sleeping bags.

“What are you doing?” Will asked as Mike pushed his sleeping bag closer to his.

“Shouldn’t we sleep together?”

Will’s mouth went dry at the wording and he just nodded mutely as he crawled in to go to sleep. Mike did the same, so close that Will could feel his breath on his nose. Those lips. He had kissed those lips. Rather poorly at first, but still. Mike shifted even closer and Will swore all of Hawkins could hear his heart beating. Everyone else had already fallen asleep, it being three in the morning, so it was really just them.

“Mike,” Will whispered, “No one’s watching.”

“Just to be safe,” Mike whispered back, and leaned in, pressing their lips together quickly before pulling away and laying his head down, still facing him. “Goodnight, boyfriend.”

Will sighed. “Goodnight.”

If this plan didn’t go to shit, he owed the universe a lot of money.

[zialltops]

honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

Cowboy!Joel (41) X F!Reader (25) | 27.7k | wip | explicit | 18+ minors dni | enemies to lovers | slow burn | au: no cordyceps outbreak

After four years away at collage, you’re finally home with the tools and knowledge to save your family ranch. That is, if their ranch hand would stay out of your way.

Or: Ranch hand Joel doesn’t know how to handle the return of his bosses prodigy daughter, her snarky little attitude, or her sinfully tight jeans.

a/n: howdy ya’ll! This chapter took me a HOT minute to finish because i’ve been severely sick (if you’ve been on this ride with me since esos you know i struggle with my health) but it’s finally here! I cant thank everyone enough for reading and as much as I wish i could hear from you guys more often, i’m just going to keep writing along and hope someone likes it! The smallest interactions bring me so much joy.

Masterlink

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Chapter 5: On My Way To You

He’s never been more humiliated in his entire fucking life. Never—not ever, has he ever felt this embarrassed about someone seeing him naked. He’s been shot down mid alleyway make-out when she’d pressed too close and felt it. He’s been left in a hotel room when he had a woman naked under him and he finally pulled his pants down. Hell—he’s been told it hurts, asked to stop—asked to leave. But never has it made his heart pound and his cheeks stain red, never made him wheeze from anxiety and dread.

He didn’t mean for it to happen—he’s been doing his best to avoid you, give you the space you want, but you’ve been nicer lately and it makes him want to get closer, test those waters and get to know you, but the second he lets himself start to give in, his body goes full force and he has to get away. Today was a hard day for him because he’d been up late the night before trying to rewire a break in the fence that let out three heifers and the little calf you’d saved on Christmas.

He’d crashed hard last night and woke up too late to work himself over before starting his day—it usually helps him keep his cool, but today he spent two hours hours in the saddle of one of Hank’s horses, moving the heifers getting ready to calf to a smaller pasture, the older steer that were about to be sold off from last years calves to a quarantine pen. It was mindless and easy and Joel spent the whole time thinking about you and your pretty eyes and the way you still wear that necklace every day, like you haven’t even thought to take it off.

By the time he stops by the house for something to drink, he’s already spent half his morning picturing you in every position possible—real like he’s never had it before. He’s smack dab in the middle of one of his favorite fantasies, one where you’re going down on him, fully aware of what’s under his belt buckle and wranglers. You’d be so sweet to him, make him feel desirable without feeling like a chore. You’d kiss the length of him over his denim, drag his pants down his thighs and you wouldn’t gasp in shock. You’d want him—your mouth would water for him and you’d give him those pouty lips and bright eyes when you finally run your tongue from base to tip—it would be perfect—

“Morning Joel.”

He’s so caught up in his vision of you in his head he’s completely unprepared for this version, with berries smeared on the corner of your mouth, like the jam is just too sweet for you to leave untasted—you’re swimming in a sweater too big for you and christ he hates when you wear legging, hugging every curve of your body, filling in the shape of your body like a shadow. He does his best to form a sentence, keep himself from staring at the necklace chain he can see poking out of your collar. you’re wearing it, you’re wearing it, you’re wearing it.

When you lick the spoon clean, his stomach hits the floor and his head spin’s suddenly from loss of blood as everything warm and tingly in his body travels south. He knows he has to get out of there, doesn’t have time to stand here for another second if he wants to keep what's going on in his pants to himself.

He’ll kick himself later for not giving you an excuse to run off, but he doesn’t have a choice in the matter right now. He practically runs for the barn, the small bathroom inside is a well learned friend, where he can rub one out fast and get it out of his hungry system. His body is famished, starved for your skin and he isn’t sure how much more of this he can take.

He gets his pants down as fast as he can, spits in his hand and starts quick. God, the way you’d looked at him when he walked in there, like you were happy to see him for once, glad to share his company—if only he wasn’t such a complete piece of shit who can't take a kind gesture for just that.

He sees your smile and he wants to dig his hands into the meat of your ass and hoist you up. Wants to hold you down and take you apart with his mouth. Your eyes meet his and he wants to watch them roll back when you take all of him, like no one ever has, ever will but he can let himself imagine it in this tiny bathroom that smells like livestock and dirt. He can imagine the way you’d want it, want him. The way you’d tell him how good he felt, how good he made you feel despite what he’s always been told about himself.

Just a few more—a couple more tugs and he’s almost there, so fucking close to the thought of your body and his, and…and…

The next thing he knows your eyes are on him, then tick down to his hand wrapped around himself like the pathetic man he knows he is. He’ll never forget the way you looked at him, the way you told him how traumatized you were to see him like that, he’s sure it would have hurt less if you’d stabbed him in the heart with a dull knife.

He fucking runs back to the cabin and get’s himself under a cold shower, trying to keep his hair from getting wet so you don’t know while his body takes a shock to its system, flushing out the desire and replacing it for his shame. When he’s red and shaking from the cold, he re-dresses and heads back towards the house. The longer he hides, the more likely you are to piece together the odd string of occurrences surrounding his disappearances. The longer he waits, the more guilty he looks, so he forces himself up the stairs, trying his best to catch his breath outside of the door until he finally has the gull to knock. He knows you’re in there, he can faintly hear something, soft little sounds that he can't quite make out, so he calls your name when the small rasps don’t catch your attention.

He nearly leaves when the door finally comes open, and…fuck if you aren’t a sight for his painfully sore eyes. You’re red all over, stunning, breathing hard with wide eyes like you’ve been caught at something. Maybe you have, he can imagine, maybe you were touching yourself—thinking about him. It's a futile dream, but he lets himself have it anyways.

No matter how much he runs, how much he tries his hardest to stay away, everything you do ropes him in and hog ties him up, unable and unwilling to be moved until you’ve decided what to do with him now that everything he is, is yours.

It’s shame that keeps him from embarrassing himself again once he drives into town, because the way you press against him in the truck makes his skin boil. He doesn’t deserve to have you beside him after what you’d been forced to witness, but that doesn’t stop him. He wants to slip his hand along your thigh, wishes Tommy wasn’t sitting beside you and he could stuff his hand down the front of your leggings and show you a thing or two—he knows he’s good with his hands—his mouth, he has to be if he wants to get a woman off. He wants to show you exactly what he could do for you, to you, but he keeps his mouth closed and taps his fingers against the steering wheel the whole way. It’s infuriating, how much you get along with Tommy now, who’s been nothing but crude to you, making passes at you left and right and god help him, you let him. He wants you to talk to him like that too, he wants to make you laugh, make you giggle and blush prettily.

But he just loads the truck. Watches when you and Tommy snicker over a bottle of whiskey he knows he can't touch because last time he made a fool of himself. He tries not to intrude on your space, tries not to bother you and Tommy around the fire later after he’s done unloading the truck alone. Not even Tommy helps him around here anymore, too far up your ass that he’s damn near useless.

He watches from the window like a fucking creep, trying not to work himself up over the way you smile at his brother, the way you throw your head back laughing at something stupid he probably said. He wants that to be him, sitting beside you with whiskey making him bold, faking it for him since he doesn’t have the ability to just talk to you. He’s sure he’d tell you everything, how beautiful he thinks you are, how much smarter than him you are. He’d probably tell you how many times he’s thought about you with his hands wrapped around himself, in the dark of his room with your name on his lips.

He doesn’t do any of that, instead he watches you from the window and lets his heart ache and pound until he sees the way Tommy lingers closer, touches your leg absently and you let him. He has to put a stop to this, so he tracks out into the cold and tries to put his foot down. Maybe Tommy will go to bed, you’ll let him walk you home and it will be so cold that you’ll ask him to stay again. But before he has a second to beg you otherwise, you’re kissing his brother.

You’re kissing his brother instead of him and he can't watch for another second, so he hightails it inside and slams his bedroom door behind himself. He can usually hear right through Tommy’s wall, but he holds his hands over his ears and tries his hardest to keep the sound of his ragged breaths from making it through the walls. At some point, he falls asleep, wishing you were laying right beside him, sprawled out, satisfied and spent with the shape of his teeth on your shoulder.

When he wakes in the morning, it’s not even close to sun up yet. He has a long day ahead of him, has to ride up to the north pasture, acres upon acres of beautiful pine covered land, but Joel has to ensure that the streams aren’t frozen over if he wants to move the heifers and their calves there soon. He gets dressed with a ache in his bones that he knows didn’t come from his age, his stomach is in knots because he knows what's been done, he knows he can’t change it—that he might not ever stand a chance with you now that you’ve been with him. Women always preferred Tommy over him, all the same cowboy charm with a bit more confidence.

He slips on his boots and places his hat on his head before lingering in the hallway for a long moment. He stares at Tommys door and imagines you sleeping on the other side of it. Did you like it? Do you like him?

He turns and starts down the hallways when the door comes open with a slow creak. He turns back around in the dark light of the hallway and, there you are wearing one of Tommy’s shirts and nothing else, your hair is mused and you have this look on your face, one that reeds shame and worry and for what Joel just can't quite put his finger on. You don’t say anything for a long time, just Joel and you and the fading darkness outside, your eyes tracking over him with a shiny hue to them.

“Where are you going?” Where is he going is the first thing you have to say to him? Like he climbed out of your bed and snuck off. “I uhm…I have a long ride up to the north field, thought I would get a early start on it.” He clears his throat and glances down at his boots, then back up at you. “Though I should give ya’ll some space, no one wants their brother listenin’ in.”

He starts to turn away again because he can’t look at you for another second when he knows you have his saliva on your skin and the shapes of his hands on your body.

“Can I come with you?” Go with him? You want to go with him when there’s a warm body waiting for you in a warm bed, where you can hide from the cold world, the impending darkness and a man like him. “You want to go? Why?” You close the bedroom door behind you like you don't want to wake Tommy and it makes Joel’s heart pound out of his chest for reasons it shouldn’t. “I don't know, it’s cold out there, you’re uhm…you’re naked.”

He tries, really tries to keep his eyes off your bare thighs, the shirt hanging off your frame and your sock-less feet on the hardwood. “I’m not naked, I have underwear on,” you lift one side of the shirt like you have to prove it to him and his eyes track to the black lace hugging your hips. Saliva builds in his mouth and he clears his throat, needing to turn away from you again. “If you want to come you should probably put some clothes on, I’ll meet you in the stable.” He starts to gather up his things, a light and his phone, trying to make himself busy so he can get away. “Well, will you wait for me—I don’t want to walk alone.” And Joel doesn’t want to do this right now, walk with you for a half mile back to the stables, sit beside you, wondering if it aches sitting in the saddle because his brother fucked you.

But he waits anyway, fiddles with the brim of his hat while he sits on the couch in silence as he waits for you to get dressed. You come out in your clothes from the night before, bundled up in a big jacket with your hair tied back. He tells himself not to think about it and heads towards the door. The walk to the stables is nearly silent, but the pounding in his ears drowns out the awkwardness in the interaction. How can he stop thinking about it? How you slept with him but dragged yourself out of bed to follow Joel into the cold? How you would trade a warm body for Joel’s cold shoulder?

“Need help with your saddle?” His voice feels raw from not using it, his hands aching from the cold while he cinches up the girth strap. This time next year, hell be saddling up Cersi to take this trip, he cant wait, but for now he’ll ride Hanks sturdy horse through the mud and snow. “I’ve got it, thank you.” There's no snap in your tone like he expects there to be and you work with him in unison, getting your mounts ready while the sun starts to climb into the atmosphere. By the time he gets out of the barn, you’re smiling at him. Smiling from your spot in the saddle with the reigns in your hands like you’re made for that.

“You ready to get a move on, cowboy?” His chest tightens at the way you gaze at him, wondering if you’d given Tommy that same look the night before. He wants to pretend it was all for him, pretend that you’re looking at him like that because you see something you haven’t before.

“You ready, cowgirl? When's the last time you were in a saddle?” He tries his damndest to keep his tone light as he hooks a foot in the stirrup and hoists himself up. “Been a couple years, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget how to ride.”

Did you practice last night? He shakes his head and wills away the image. He doesn’t think he'll be able to stop thinking about it for the rest of the ride, he can’t get the image of your mouth on his out of his head no matter how much he tries. It’s always fucking Tommy. He’s always been the favored brother, no matter how much of a fuck up he is. He’s always been the one to get the girl, the popular one in school, hell even his wife—

“You okay in there cowboy?”

Your voice comes like a shock to his system, snapping him out of another unpleasant memory. “Huh?” He looks around until he lays eyes on you, riding beside him with your hands resting on the horn of the saddle. “I was asking if you’re okay…you’ve been really quiet for the past half hour.” Half an hour? It's been a half hour since he started this ride? “Yeah, no, sorry. I have a lot on my mind, is all.” You pick up the pace beside him a little, till your horses are walking alongside each-other on the path. “Anything you want to talk about?”

He sits on the words for a second. He doesn’t want to talk about it, not particularly—but its you and your asking him and fuck, he wants you to get to know him. Maybe if you knew who he was, maybe if he had a chance to explain why he’s like this you might change your mind.

“I was thinkin’ ‘bout my ex-wife.” He keeps his eyes ahead of him, because he doesn’t want to see the look on your face when you hear that, that he had a whole other life away from this place. “My mom told me you had an ex-wife. She didn’t tell me what happened.”

You knew? He’d told Hank and Louise a lot about his life, he had to if he wanted them to trust him. He wasn’t a bad man, just a burdened one. “We uh…we had a rocky marriage. Got together young, right out of high school. I was learning to work a cattle ranch and I thought I would be able to give her a good life but—she wanted more, I suppose. Started steppin’ out on me. She got pregnant by another man, but I still didn’t leave. Helped raise that little girl like she was my own.”

He thinks about Sarah and her curly hair that definitely didn’t come from him or her mom, her sweet smile, her first day of school—all the things he missed.

“What made you finally leave?” Your voice is so quiet beside him. He looks over at you under the brim of his hat and sighs. “She slept with Tommy. Came home from picking up Sarah from school and I…caught ‘em together in bed. Tommy said he did it because he wanted to prove to me that she wasn’t any good for me but, I don’t know, I’ve never been very good and stayin’ angry at him.”

Your eyes look far away in that moment, like you’re clouded in some kind of guilt, maybe because you’d slept with Tommy, too. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Joel.” He clicks his tongue and shakes his head absently. “Ain’t no thing. I’m used to it by now, he’s always had a way with ‘em that I never had.”

He has, Joel can't even recall every encounter he’s had with a woman that ended with them leaving with his brother. Hell, it had been five years since the last time he’d (kind of) had sex, no thanks to his cockblocker of a brother. The first time in years since he’s felt more than just attraction to a woman and Tommy takes that from him too.

“We should get a move on, we don’t have all day and I have a lot to do when I get back.”

He digs his heal in and the horse picks up speed and to his surprise, you keep gate with him along the trail.

When he gets to the gate of the north pasture, his ass hurts from being in the saddle and his face feels wind chapped, but you don’t complain about a lick of it, like you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world right now. “Joel?” He’s closing the gate behind you when you call his name. It makes him look up from the latch. “Yeah?” He gets it in place and mounts his horse again, adjusting his hat on his head. “I’m really sorry, about how I treated you when I first came home.”

Fuck do you have to do this right now? Out here, where he has nowhere to run off to? “You're not the one who needs to be sorry. I never should have done half the things I did to you. I didn’t even know you and I assumed the worst of you. Should’ve never done any of that to you.” He never should have left you in the cold, never should have treated you any differently than anyone else because he thought you came from somewhere that didn’t like folks like him when he really likes girls like you. So smart and put together, so capable and confident.

“We got off on a bad foot, I suppose…do you think maybe we could…start over?”

You want to start over? With him? give him a second shot to not fuck this up again? Or maybe you don’t mean it like that, like he desperately wants it to mean, even if you fucked his brother last night, he doesn’t care, he’d take his sloppy seconds any day because it’s you.

“I’d really like that.” There's a sweet kind of shimmer in your eyes when you smile at him, rosey cheeks and a crinkle by your kind eyes. His sight ticks down to your chest, where he can see the necklace he’d given you sticking out of the top. You’re still wearing it, had you worn it last night? When he laid you down on his cold sheets while Joel wished desperately it was his?

Despite the pang in his chest, the rest of the ride is easy and light, you talk about nothing and absolutely everything, your favorite color, your favorite time of the year, Joel tells you how much he loves the spring and you excitedly agree, going on and on about watching the world come back to life.

You tell him about college, how out of place you felt surrounded by people who were so different from you. How nervous you were for the first year, but you’d made a best friend out of your room mate Mel, and you finally got the hang of it in your second year.

He tells you about drifting from place to place because Tommy usually stirs up some trouble and runs them out of town. He tells you about all the times he’s had to save his ass to your parents and how much he’s tried to hang on to the one good place he’s had in so long. He could talk to you for hours, all day if you’d let him, and you do. You hold his conversations like you’re a pair of old friends, catching up after years spent apart.

He’s so lost in you that he doesn’t even realize you’re back home until the house comes into view. He’s spent so much time immersing himself in talking to you that he’s completely lost track of where he is, letting the miles blow past him. It’s mid day and he still has a lot to do and he can tell you’re starting to get sore in the saddle. “I’ll get them cooled down, you should probably get some rest. You couldn’t of gotten much sleep last night.” He swings his leg over and climbs off the horse before taking yours by the halter so you can do the same. “Thank you for today…it’s been a while since I’ve had a good reason to ride.” You give him one of those smiles again and it takes everything in him not to lean in and kiss you because of it. He’s wanted to kiss you all damn day, slide his fingers into the hair at the base of your skull and hold on tight, slot his lips over yours and breathe you in deep until he can’t let you go again.

He doesn’t and you head off towards the house while he looks on. He watches till you make it inside and then some before getting back to his chores.

Work consumes the entirety of his day, until the sun sets and it starts to get dark and chilly when he’s finally got the animals fed and the equipment locked up. He knows Tommy is back at the cabin because he dropped off a plate of dinner to Joel in the stable on his way home. He’s about to start the walk back to the cabin himself when he hears the creak of the screen door on the house just across the yard. He closes the barn door behind himself and follows the sounds. You’re standing on the porch in a pair of sleep shorts and slippers, a tee-shirt that's too big and a nervous look on your face. You don't say anything, but Joel’s feet carry him to the steps, then up them one at a time, carefully and painfully slow, like he might spook you away if he moves too quickly. The wind is absolutely howling right now, whipping your hair around and cinching your shirt tight against your frame.

He hits the landing and takes a few more steps forward, until he’s a foot away from your shaking form, your big pretty eyes that are searching every corner of his. He should say something, he should say how much he enjoyed today, how much he wants to do it again and again and again.

“I didn’t have sex with him.”

It’s not what he expected you to say standing out here in this unforgiving cold, but its the best damn thing he’s heard you say all day. It feels like an endless weight coming off his shoulders and he lets out a loud gush of air he didn’t know he was holding. “What?” You puff your chest out a little, like you’re trying to get a point across to him. “I didn't have sex with Tommy last night.” You say it so matter of factly.

“Why didn’t you?” He reaches up and pushes his hat up a little, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. His heart is pounding, his limbs shaking at the admission. “You know why.”

All at once, his pounding heart comes to a staggering stop, standing there on the porch looking down at you while he tries to keep himself upright. He doesn’t know why but the way you're looking at him now tells him there's something else here besides anger and hatred and shared distaste. You didn’t sleep with Tommy, because on the other side of that wall you were wanting him just as desperately as he wanted you.

“It’s cold out here…do you want to sleep on the couch tonight?”

Joel’s bottom lip quivers so much he has to suck it into his mouth to make it stop, bite down on it to put it at ease. “Yeah, I…I’d like that.”

A warm little hand finds his, tentative fingers intertwined with his while you lead him inside of the house. You don’t take him upstairs, Joel doesn’t expect you to. You lead him to the couch and he sits down, kicking off his boots when you reach up for his hat. You set it on the arm rest beside him and grab a blanket off the back of the couch when he lays himself back on the pillow.

His body aches, his eyes feel heavy, but he doesn’t dare close them when he’s got an angel standing right before his eyes. “Goodnight, Cowboy.” You hum sweetly, lean down and press your lips against the apple of his cheek, more delicate than he’s ever been touched before in his entire fucking life.

When you pull away, those same cheeks are painted pink and he does his best not to grin too stupidly. “Goodnight, Cowgirl.”

You take the stairs up to your room but Joel rides the elevator to heaven from his spot on the living room couch.

[sylveon-official]

huskerdust mpreg wip next chapter pv

should be out tonight or tomorrow! :)

-

“So… let me get this straight…” Vaggie narrows her eyes pointedly at the way Angel is halfway in Husk’s lap. “You two have been fucking—”

“Ahem,” Angel interjects.

Vaggie heaves a long-suffering sigh, rubbing at her temples as if a migraine is coming on before continuing, “— engaging in a physioemotional situationship - Angel’s words - for months and Husk somehow knocked up Angel with heaven-sent sperm because someone upstairs screwed up,” Vaggie summarizes.

“Yep,” Angel confirms, popping the ‘p’. “That’s pretty much the gist of it. Wild stuff, ain’t it?”

“The first part? No, you’ve been keeping half the hotel up with your big ‘secret’ for ages, Charlie just wouldn’t let me do shit about it!” Vaggie grumbles, sinking into the couch with crossed arms.

“Hmph!” Angel pouts, knees encroaching further on Husk’s lap while his four arms wind even tighter around his middle.

Husk keeps his lips zipped, more than willing to let the chaos pass before entering the discussion in any meaningful way.

“They werent ready to tell us yet!” Charlie insists, looping an arm through Vaggie’s.

“I knew,” Nifty giggles wildly, temporarily pausing the game of Russian roulette she’s currently playing with a cockroach. “I listen to them through the vents every night,” she ends on a wild cackle.

"Oh, come on, Nif!” Husk cries as Angel throws his head back with a good-natured laugh. Little freaks, all of ‘em, Husk thinks.

“My, my, well this is quite a conundrum,” Alastor posits, twirling his cane as he sidles up to stand next to Angel. “Not only has our star pupil fallen pregnant out of wedlock, but I’d imagine this poses a little problem for your…. line of work,” Alastor smirks, leaning forward on his cane to grin in Angel’s face. “If you’re interested in striking a deal, I may be willing to—”

“No,” Husk and Vaggie cut in at the same time.

Alastor’s eyes flick over towards Husk and narrow just slightly. Husk barely manages to suppress the urge to shrink into himself, instead drawing Angel closer to his chest. 

Thankfully, Vaggie launches into an explanation, “There will be no deals and, really, you two probably shouldn’t make any decisions until we know how much the folks up there have to do with this,” Vaggie concludes on a sneer. 

[romana-after-dark]

WIP wednessday

thank you @princessanglophile for tagging! i never remember to do these but im actually writing rn

This is for chapter 3 of Be Quiet, my dark!logan x reader series! (see pinned post)

“Remy ain’t coming.” He blurts out, ready to break the news of the date as bluntly as possible to make him look worse, but when he saw the worry on your face he read your mind. “He had to go take care of business, he’s fine though.” Watching the relief on your face made him annoyingly jealous. “Sorry he had to miss your uh…” Logan glanced around the room. “Date, I guess.” He likes hearing you giggle, even if he thinks it might be at him. “Did he call it a date?” “Well… no…” Why did he feel so flustered with you? “Good. It’s hardly a date. I have higher standards than sharing a sandwich in my classroom.” Despite his protests, you lay half your sandwich on his side of the desk. He couldn't say no to you. “Remy eats lunch with me sometimes, keeps me company. As a friend, if you were wondering.” He was. There was a comfortable silence as Logan ate the sandwich you gave me, doing everything he could to not hum as he delighted in it. How did you make a simple caprese sandwich taste so good? How did he get roped into sharing a meal with you when he was supposed to keep his distance? “You’re good with them.” He mumbles with his mouth half full. When you look up with confusion he elaborates. “The kids, I mean. They like you. I can see it, and I’ve heard others talking.” This makes you blush, looking away as you deflect the compliment. “Thank you, it’s probably the only thing I’m qualified to do.” “I’m sure that’s not true. Were you a teacher before you came here?” “I wasn’t anything before I came here.”

Hope yall like!!!!

np tags @toxicanonymity @koshkaj-blog @beefrobeefcal @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @melodygatesauthor @ariundercovers @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @commonmisery @winniethewife

[dramioneasks]

Hy! Can you recommend fics with draco having hermione as his mate? The darker the better! Oh and I'm looking for long completed fics where D is possessive and protective.

Thanks xx!

Broken Wings - Luvkyloreylo - M, WIP - Now: Her torture had twisted something inside him, unique in comparison to others who’d crossed his home’s threshold. Draco wasn’t sure how to name it. The manor was saturated by blood, death… how would hers make any difference. She’d escaped once before. But this time… Hermione Granger was lined up being tortured by his aunt yet again to entertain the masses, along side other captives. His silver eyes fell to the floor to keep their glassiness from view.

Your Soul and Mine - In_Dreams - M, one-shot - Draco is measured and sentenced for his crimes during the war by an unseen force. Suspended within the desolate landscape between life and death, he’s forced to claim souls until his debt is paid. But what happens when one of those souls is the other half of his own? Grim Reaper AU.

Mon Couteau Aiguise (My Sharp Knife) - gillianeliza - E, 99 chapters, Words: 169,542 - “And you understand, I assume, the implications of wearing a piece of jewelry such as the one you have around your wrist?” Professor Snape asked. Hermione looked down at the bracelet in question, remembering the warm and joyful sensation of it first being clasped around her. The words Draco had spoken – will you have me? Will you accept me? “I do, sir,” she answered in her best impersonation of confidence. “But Miss Granger… I must ask – do you understand the cost?” Her brows pulled together. “The cost, sir?” “The Dark Lord will return, girl… When he returns, Lucius – and I for that matter – must resume our places at his side.” Hermione still said nothing, which she could tell surprised her potions professor greatly, so he continued. “What do you think will happen to Draco when his father once again becomes a follower of the Dark Lord?” The sticky dread clawed its way up her throat, as if choking her. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes as she thought of the implications. “So I ask you again, Miss Granger, do you understand the cost?” This work is a dark, Death Eater Hermione AU that begins during third year. Eventual canon divergence. Please read all tags!

To Build a Home - likelyunfinished - E, WIP - It’s been eight years since she’s seen him and eight years since he’s held her in his arms. They spent the time separate but unknowingly together - now he is ready to come out of the shadows but she is unprepared for the second shock of her lifetime. His words rang true then and they do now, “in this lifetime and in the next, for however long our souls remain, mine will always find yours”.

Title: Not Quite Dark Magic Author: hiccupfound Rating: M Genre(s): Angst, Romance Chapters: 30 Word Count: 107,154 Summary: Five years into to the war, the Order is pulling ahead after ages of drastically losing. Draco Malfoy notices. He wants in. He offers himself as a double agent, but the Order requests more. They’ve created a new spell that binds two people’s magical cores together in order to make a nearly unbeatable pair of duelists.Draco agrees to bind himself to the person most compatible with his magical core. Even if it is Hermione Granger.

A Game of High Stakes - In_Dreams - E, 51 chapters, Words: 263,110 - In theory, the task is simple: kill Draco Malfoy. In practice, putting a curse through the Dark Lord’s favoured lieutenant will take everything Hermione has―especially since he’s trying to kill her, too. Even more so when the lines between them start to blur. Sometimes, the only way out is through.

False-Hearted - its_banannaz, Literalily - E, 42 chapters - Hermione Granger has the potential to be more, MUCH more. And now, she’s ready to climb her way to the top, no matter what it takes.Sick of her insincere “friends” and their lack of recognition, Hermione makes a decision that alters the outcome of the war. If no one will put Hermione Granger first, she’ll simply have to do it herself. There is no good or bad, not anymore. It’s about what gets her where she deserves to be. After reaching a boiling point, she does something that no one ever expected - she becomes a Death Eater. But not just any Death Eater - Voldemort’s apprentice.Playing both sides, Hermione Granger now holds more power than anyone realizes. Is it so wrong to be false-hearted when you’re finally putting yourself first?

-Lisa

[supernova-stardust]

A Tender Thing

a jegulus long fic wip with background wolfstar, rosekiller, dorlene, pandalily, and emmary

ao3 is down so i figured i would post the first chapter of my fic here for y’all - there are currently 9 chapters published and i update weekly!

full chapter after the break, rating: 18+, chapter word count: 5,145, or read more on ao3

Remus always hates patrolling. It doesn’t matter who it’s with or the time of day, walking for so long always irritates his hip and quite frankly, he’d rather be spending his time doing… basically anything else. He does appreciate spending time with Marlene and Peter right now though. He hasn’t been able to see them as often lately, so he’s trying to be optimistic. But his hip really does fucking hurt.

“I don’t really know why we need to be patrolling anyway,” Marlene complains. “It’s broad daylight, it’s not like they’re really just going to come out right now to kill any muggles, right?”

Remus and Peter shrug in unison. To be honest, Remus isn’t sure why they’ve been going on so many patrols lately either. It seems like they’ve all been working longer and harder these days with very little results. Voldemort is still keeping to the shadows and the Death Eater activity has been more and more sporadic.

They turn down a back alley, the stench of stale piss and garbage filling the air around them. “Really would hate to die in a place like this, let’s keep moving,” Peter says frantically. Remus can feel his nervous energy all around them but really, why does Peter always have to bring up dying? Frankly, it’s annoying.

A flash of green light flies past in his peripheral vision, the three of them ducking behind a dumpster. Peter trips as they go, Remus pulling him into their hiding spot. The three of them exchange a worried look. Okay, so he has to admit that maybe this is why Peter is always bringing up dying. Fucking hell.

He hears a maniacal, half-crazed laugh echo down the alleyway and immediately knows who it belongs to. “Oh, did I scare the alley rats into hiding? Come out and play!” Bellatrix sing-songs as her heeled boots click clack on the pavement. Another flash of green lights up the alley as Remus and Marlene get ready to cast stunning spells. Bellatrix has reflexes like a cat, so the only way they’re getting out of here is to overwhelm her and block off escape routes. If they both cast, hopefully one of them will get lucky.

Flashes of red fill the space as Remus and Marlene cast in different directions. Marlene does in fact get lucky and lands a blow on Bellatrix as she dodges Remus’ spell. Peter lets out the greatest sigh known to man as Marlene screeches and jumps for joy. Marlene runs over to Bellatrix’s prone form, kicks her for good measure, then dances around like nothing in the world could stop her as Peter slowly lurches to his feet. Remus looks up as Peter holds his hand out.

He grasps Peter’s had and as he rises, he can tell that his hip is well and truly fucked. The moon just passed a few days ago and yeah, Sirius told him he shouldn’t have come out at all, but he’s sick of everyone coddling him. He’s only 26 for fucks sake, he shouldn’t be this damaged. And yet, he is. Every full moon he aches a little bit more, the transformations taking more and more away from him.

“You know Sirius is gonna go mental over this, right?” Peter laments to Remus, Marlene is still in her own world and neither of them want to be the one to try and pull her out of it. “Yeah, I know. If we didn’t have to give a debrief to Moody I wouldn’t want to tell him at all. You know how he gets.”

Everyone in The Order knows all too well how Sirius gets.

***

Sirius is relaxing on the couch when Remus comes through the door to their flat. He looks particularly worse for wear, his clothes are filthy and his hair is more rumpled than usual. Sirius feels his heart stop in his chest. He really doesn’t know what he’d do if something happened to Remus.

He jumps up, crossing the living room at record speed, reaching Remus before he’s even finished taking off his shoes. “What happened?” He stretches his hands up towards Remus’ face, cupping his cheeks with his palms and searching his eyes as Remus sighs heavily.

“I’m fine,” Remus insists instead of answering him.

“I know what you look like when you’re fine and it’s not… whatever this is. I knew Moody was sending you out too soon after the full moon, you’ve barely recovered.” Sirius feels frantic now. He knows that every time one of them leaves the apartment they could die, but the way Remus looks right now is making it all feel far too real.

“I don’t want them to coddle me, Pads. I really am fine. It was just a little altercation, Marlene and Pete were with me, we’re all okay. I just need a shower and I’ll be good as new, promise.” Remus kisses him softly, a chaste and sweet kiss. Full of promise and love.

“What do you mean by a little altercation, Moony?”

Remus gently grabs Sirius’ wrists, lowering his hands from his cheeks to his lips, placing gentle kisses up and down his palms. “I’m fine, Pads. Please drop it. Wanna join me in the shower?” He’s trying to distract him and they both know it.

“Not until you tell me what happened,” Sirius is feeling stubborn about this but he can’t help it. He needs to know why Moony showed up at home covered in filth and sweat, looking mildly shell shocked.

Remus lets out a sigh and drops his hands. “Fine, Bellatrix showed up. It was brief, barely anything happened. She tried to curse us but she missed, Marls and I knocked her out, we debriefed with Moody, then I came home. No harm, no foul, yeah?”

“What curse, Remus?” Sirius feels frozen in place and time. Bellatrix? She hasn’t shown her face in years, far too important to Voldemort to be risked skulking about in London. There’s no way this was a coincidence. She had to have been here for a reason and Sirius will find out why, even if it kills him. He doesn’t care how hypocritical that seems right now.

“Is it that important? She missed,” Remus mutters under his breath. He’s decidedly avoiding eye contact at this point and Sirius feels like he’s going to lose his mind.

“She tried to kill you, didn’t she?” Sirius can barely breathe. He could have lost Moony today. He could have lost Marlene and Pete too. They’ve become far too relaxed on these patrols lately, especially if Bellatrix is showing up in broad daylight. They all could have died if they had been a moment too late. Sirius could have lost them all.

“She missed. That’s what’s important here. She missed, Sirius.”

“Remus, you nearly died! She has to know what you mean to me by now, this was personal. Nothing you say will convince me otherwise,” Sirius starts pacing around the apartment and talking with his hands. His nerves are officially wreaking havoc on his body and he’d very much like this war to come to a close so he can stop worrying about everyone he loves every minute of every day. He feels like every day it gets more horrific rather than coming closer to an end. What the fuck are Moody and Dumbledore even doing to stop it at this point? Everyone is dying left and right. Last week they nearly lost Frank and he was on a mission with Kingsley, one of their strongest fighters. Kingsley trained them all and if he can be caught off guard, who’s to say they all can’t?

“Love, I’m fine, I swear.” Remus crowds Sirius, wrapping his arms around Sirius’ neck and backing him into the kitchen counter.

“How would I have known if you weren’t though? I should be going with you, we shouldn’t be separated anymore.” Remus starts nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. “I know what you’re doing,” Sirius groans.

“Hmm?” Remus starts trailing open mouthed kisses down from behind his ear to his collarbone, “I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re trying to distract me and it’s not going to work. I mean it, I’m going to talk to Moody about this. We should stick together, we make a great team. The only reason they keep us apart is because they don’t want our emotions getting in the way, but mine are getting in the way of me thinking straight at this point.” Remus’ hands begin to wander down his body, making him shiver.

“Do you really have to be so serious about it? It’s not a big deal, I’m fine. I can prove it to you right now,” he says as he pushes his hips into Sirius’ thigh, gripping his waist with both hands.

“I am literally Sirius,” he gasps. Oh he’s a weak, weak man.

“Oh, shut up.”

Remus sinks to his knees and Sirius does in fact shut up for now.

***

James walks right into Sirius and Remus’ flat, arms full of beer. He hasn’t felt the need to knock on their door since the first day they moved in together. They were all roommates for so long, they’re brothers, and Saturdays are their weekly ritual to get pissed drunk together anyway. He’s the last one here, as expected. Marlene is laying on the floor next to Peter who’s sitting up and watching Sirius like he’s an animal at the zoo. Sirius is already drunk, pacing around the living room and ranting about Remus nearly dying. What the fuck did he miss?

“I still can’t fucking believe they’d try to kill my boyfriend when I wasn’t even around to do anything about it,” Sirius complains, his words slurring together.

“Pads, come off it,” Remus sighs. “It didn’t even come close, honest. Pete, you were there the whole time, it wasn’t as close as he's making it out to be, right?”

“Uh, I mean– yeah, it wasn’t as bad as what you’re thinking, Pads, honest,” Peter tries, and fails, to soothe Sirius.

“Moony, you almost fucking died. I don’t believe Wormtail for a second,” Sirius huffs, plopping onto the couch next to Remus.

“Wow, thanks for that,” Peter glares and grabs a case of beer from James, ripping it open the moment he sets it down on the coffee table. James wanders over to the kitchen, opens the refrigerator, and piles the rest of the beer inside. As he comes back to the living room, he helps himself to a beer, popping open the can and taking a long sip. He’s going to need it, based on the way Sirius is behaving already.

“So, we all had a good day, huh?” James jests, trying to lighten the mood. Everyone glares at him as he plops on the floor across from the couch where Remus and Sirius are perched.

“Oh just lovely, considering Remus almost died and doesn’t want me to be upset about it,” Sirius pouts and grabs himself another beer. None of them mention that he probably doesn’t need it.

“Well, you’re going to love this then,” James braces himself for Sirius to fly off the handle with his news. “I heard from Mary today that your little brother is getting married, they’re hosting an engagement party tonight.”

Sirius drops his beer, splashing the cold drink all over the couch and himself. “Fuck, you can’t be serious? Married to who?”

Remus gets up and crosses over to the kitchen, grabbing a towel to mop up the mess. Sirius is unphased by any of this, too fixated on the news to even register that his pants are wet. Peter hands Sirius a fresh beer, not that he needs it.

“Narcissa, apparently. Blacks really do love to keep it in the family, huh?” The moment James heard about it from Mary he couldn’t believe it. He knows that the purebloods are having a hard time keeping their bloodlines pure, but really? Regulus’ first cousin?

James takes another long sip, steeling himself for Sirius’ reaction to the news.

“Oh no fucking wonder Bellatrix is here, her fucking sister is marrying my fucking baby brother. See Remus, I knew this was personal,” Sirius looks like he could murder, he probably would if they don’t calm him down.

James will never pretend to understand what it’s like for Sirius. When they were young, he and Regulus were inseparable. Sirius looked out for Regulus no matter the cost. Sometimes that cost was deathly high. When Sirius refused to take the Dark Mark, he begged and pleaded for Regulus to come with him and he outright refused. He hasn’t had a real conversation with him since. A few years later, they found out that Regulus had taken the Dark Mark and Sirius announced to them all that his brother was dead to him. That’s the last time any of them had even so much as mentioned his name in Sirius’ presence. Until now, that is. James couldn’t keep this from him, no matter how much he wanted to. If Sirius knew that he knew about it, James doubts that he’d ever forgive him. James wouldn’t forgive himself either.

“I have an excellent idea,” Sirius practically whispers, his eyes wide and pupils dilated. James can guarantee that his idea is not excellent.

“Sirius, love, whatever it is, let's just wait until morning, yeah?” Remus coaxes, placing the towel down and rubbing his hand up and down Sirius’ thigh. In hopes to distract him, no doubt.

“No!” Sirius pushes Remus’ hand off his leg, jumps from the couch, and starts pacing around the living room. “We should go to their stupid fucking party! How would they even know it was us? Everyone has to wear masks at those events besides the betrothed and it’s not like I’ve been around Mother and Father dearest in years.” Sirius has that gleam in his eyes that tells James there’s no way any of them are going to be able to change his mind, but he has to at least try.

“Oh fuck yes, we could go undercover, it’ll be great!” Marlene squeals, clearly the woman has no sense of self preservation.

“Sirius, your parents may not recognize you but there’s no way that your brother won’t lock eyes on you the moment you step foot in Grimmauld Place. You know this! It’s like he has some weird secret Sirius sense or something.” James feels like he’s yelling, but he’s really just desperate to have his best friend listen. Regulus would absolutely have the four of them thrown out, if not executed on the spot, for crashing his engagement party.

“Nah, Reggie wouldn’t rat me out.”

“He might not rat you out, but I can guarantee that he’ll murder the rest of us the moment he knows we’re there. Please, just drop it. I just thought you should know before you saw it in the Daily Prophet,” James begs.

Sirius absolutely will not drop it and that’s how the five of them find themselves outside Grimmauld Place for the first time since Sirius was sixteen years old, masks in hand and wands tucked up their sleeves.

***

Regulus sits at his desk, hunched over and writing his “sad boy poetry” as his brother always teased him. He’d never admit it out loud, but he misses Sirius and all the stupid shit he said. He’s been gone for almost ten years now and every day he misses him a little bit more. Honestly, how pathetic. No wonder his brother tormented him.

Sighing, he glances out the window. He was so engrossed in his writing that it’s already gotten dark outside, the lights in the garden blinking on, one by one. The roses are in full bloom and with the windows open he can smell their sweet scent billowing into his bedroom on the breeze. He stretches his back, arms rising above his head. He knows he has to get ready for the party soon, but really who would notice if he didn’t go? The real star of the show is Narcissa anyway.

Narcissa.

Of course his mother would arrange his marriage to his own fucking cousin against both of their wills. He had thought if he casually dated other purebloods for a while that his mother would simply allow him to figure it out. And by figuring it out, he means finding a lovely woman who doesn’t care that he’s gay as can be and will agree to a farce of a marriage.

But really, Narcissa?

At least he knows neither of them wants anything to do with this wedding. She is eating up the attention that the engagement brings her though. For someone who the family neglected to name after a star, she really is the brightest of the bunch.

“Okay so I was thinking-” Dorcas bursts into his room. “What the fuck, you’re not dressed yet?” She storms over to the closet, pulling out his dress robes that Mother so kindly had custom tailored just for this event. “Did you even shower? You’re expected to make your appearance with Narcissa in a half hour, Reg! I know you think I can perform miracles, but I can’t make this bullshit end.”

She’s standing in the middle of his room now, his robes draped on the bed, glaring at him. He hasn’t moved an inch.

“Yeah, yeah. I just got caught up with things.”

“What things? Writing prose and lamenting at the flowers?”

“Yes, actually.”

She smirks, clearly proud of herself for knowing her best friend so well. “Go shower, you stink,” Dorcas practically rips his arm off as she pulls him from his seat and shoves him to the adjoining bathroom.

When Regulus emerges from the bathroom, a towel around his hips and his hair dripping on the floor, Dorcas is perched on his bed, reading the book from his nightstand. “What were you thinking when you came in here?”

Dorcas looks up, clearly trying to recall what he’s talking about. “Oh! I brought whiskey!” She reaches over to her purse on his bed and pulls out a flask. “You can’t very well be sober during your engagement party to your loveliest cousin, now can you?”

They share a conspiratorial smirk and pass the flask back and forth as Regulus changes into his clothes and dries his hair. He’s putting on his shoes when they hear his mother knocking on the door, demanding that he meets with her and Narcissa at the top of the stairway to the parlor. A few moments and some breathing exercises later, he’s making his way down the hallway to meet them.

He’s never been good at controlling his anxiety, but the breathing exercises do help. He can’t help but think about how his brother found him one day when he was much younger, curled in a ball in the corner of his room, hyperventilating. He crossed the room and crouched down with him, gently brushing his hair from his face, begging Regulus to breathe with him. In for five, out for five, in for five, out for five. He hasn’t had his brother to breathe with him, but he still counts in and out for five multiple times a day.

Narcissa and his mother are whispering under their breath to each other, but when he finally gets close enough he overhears Narcissa saying something that peaks his interest. “I can’t stop Bellatrix from being Bellatrix, Aunt Walburga.”

Of course Bellatrix would do something to try and steal attention from Narcissa’s special day.

“I don’t care what it takes, we need to reign that woman in. She’ll be too impulsive one day and ruin the good name of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black,” his mother, Walburga, sneers. “Ah, finally. Regulus. You two will enter the parlor arm in arm after we’ve made the announcement. Don’t do anything that could jeopardize our good name. You’re the only heir to the family and we have high hopes for this match. Do not disgrace us.” With that, she leaves him and Narcissa alone to prepare for their grand entrance on her cue.

“How do they still not know?” Narcissa chuckles, her eyes sparkling with laughter.

“Know what?”

“That you’re so gay we’ll never produce an heir together.”

“You’ll just have to find someone who wants to produce my illegitimate heir, Cissy, she doesn’t need to know at all.” Once, when he was young, Regulus had considered coming out to his family. Once, when the world wasn’t so dark. Once, when Sirius was still his safety net, always willing to catch him when he fell. Now, he doesn’t think there’s anywhere he could be safe. He doesn’t think he’ll ever know what it’s like to live his life with any semblance of freedom.

“I mean, obviously. You could find someone to love, you know.” The tenderness that she speaks those words hits him like a train. Never had he considered that he could seek love in this marriage too. This entire time he’s just been thinking of Narcissa, of how they were going to pretend they had a happy marriage and sex life, of how they were going to further the family tree. Could he experience love?

If he’s honest with himself, he gave up on love a long time ago. Back when Sirius was still at home and sometimes invited Regulus along to visit James Potter. Those days were much brighter, warm and golden. They were only allowed to visit the Potter Manor because the Potters were technically purebloods, once considered pure enough for their family trees to intertwine. And then the dark days came and the Potters refused to kneel for the Dark Lord. Now, Sirius belongs with James in the sun and Regulus is cold and alone in the dark.

“I’ll keep that in mind. For now, let’s get through this party.” They smile softly at each other, linking their arms, and descend the stairs.

***

James is thankful that the man at the entrance didn’t recognize any of them since they had to exchange the masks they brought for silver and black ones at the door. It looks like everyone in Grimmauld Place is wearing the exact same ones, so he’s hoping that they’ll be able to blend in with the crowd. He grew up going to parties like this, but since Lord Voldemort began his thirst for power the Potters haven’t joined in any of these pureblood farces. Everyone is fake here. They all hate each other and James really doesn’t understand why they don’t just say it.

He sways a bit as they make their way through the crowd of people. He hadn’t realized how many people would show up, but I suppose that the most powerful pureblood family having an engagement party for two of their own would make for a large turn out. Everyone will be trying to arrange their own marriages for their children in hopes to secure a spot in Lord Voldemort’s favor. Scanning the room, he recognizes Evan Rosier and Barty Crouch Jr. whispering to each other, leaning against the wall near the stairway.

He’s not surprised to see Evan, he’s from an old pureblood family that allied themselves with Voldemort immediately, but he is surprised to see Barty. James is pretty sure that Barty’s father still works at the Ministry, but he supposes that the integrity of the Ministry has been up for debate for quite some time.

“Cygnus and Druella Black and Orion and Walburga Black are pleased to announce the engagement of Narcissa Black and Regulus Black,” someone announces to the parlor, pulling James from his thoughts. The entire room pauses, looks to the top of the stairs, and offers a polite applause as the couple descends.

Sirius bumps into him and they both take in Regulus standing arm in arm with Narcissa. Sirius can’t stop staring at Regulus, eyes wide and tearing up and immediately James can tell that Regulus feels Sirius’ gaze on him. His entire body stiffens, his steel gray eyes sharpen like daggers. The long separated Black Brothers lock eyes and James knows that’s the end of the game. There’s no way Regulus is going to let Sirius out of this party without a confrontation.

As soon as Regulus and Narcissa have joined the crowd and the chatter begins again, James gets Sirius moving. They need to avoid Regulus at all costs. Coming here was such a bad idea, but he really can’t fault Sirius for it. In the end, he knows this was just his way of wanting to be here for his brother. Being disowned didn’t mean he stopped loving Regulus, even if he acts that way to the rest of the world. James knows in his heart that there’s a whole lot of love between them.

He scans the room as they go, noticing that Regulus has joined Evan and Barty near the wall. Regulus is clearly freaking out, even if he’s trying to keep it quiet and subtle. Maybe to everyone at this party, he’s just excitedly chatting with his friends, but James knows better. Regulus is pissed. They should have never come here.

They stumble out to the garden, Marlene leading the way. Remus and Peter finally catch up behind them.

“Regulus saw us come this way, I think we should get out of here,” Remus says, a little out of breath. “C’mon, you showed up, it was a bad idea, let’s all go home, yeah?” They all turn a corner, trying to find their way out of this mess, and Marlene barrels head first into Dorcas. Regulus’ best friend. Oh, they’re so fucked.

“What the hell are you guys doing here? This is the last place you lot should be,” Dorcas whispers, clearly alarmed. Her amber eyes glaring in turn at each of them, light twinkling off the golden charms in her braids piled on her head.

“Dorcas, please, we all got a little drunk and carried away, we’re leaving, right Sirius?” Marlene begs, trying to walk around Dorcas to make way for their escape.

“Go now, I won’t be able to cover for you if anyone notices that you’re here, but I won’t say anything either,” Dorcas moves aside, making her way back to the party. “If you keep going that way you’ll find a back gate, it’s hidden behind some shrubs, just make sure you close it after yourselves.”

Remus takes Sirius’ hand, clearly begging him in that secret language that only they speak. In that way only people who know each other inside and out can. Soulmates.

Sirius reluctantly nods, James watches as the four of them make their way deeper into the gardens, searching for the back exit to avoid being caught. He knows they expect him to follow, and he will, but first he wants to scout out who else is at this party. This information is surely valuable to The Order, right? He’s already here, so he might as well, he knows that he can blend in well enough. Besides, it’s not like Regulus will recognize him. James turns on his heel to head back into the parlor, but instead he finds himself face to face, chest to chest with Regulus Black and he never realized just how beautiful he is.

***

Regulus could have run into any one of Sirius’ friends, but of course it had to be James Potter. James Potter with his stupid smile. James Potter with his golden eyes glowing in the twinkling lights of his favorite garden. James Potter staring at him with heat that he’s never seen in his eyes before.

“What the fuck are you doing here,” he snaps. He can’t believe how terrible his luck is that James Potter would show up here tonight, when he has to pretend to play the dutiful heir. The universe really hates Regulus, he just knows it. Why else would James be here, taunting Regulus with everything he’s ever wanted and could never have.

James stumbles back a bit, catching his bearings. He seems drunk, wobbling a bit on his feet, his cheeks slightly flushed. He’s so beautiful it hurts. “Look, I just wanted to stop by and tell you congratulations. Innocent stuff, I swear. But then you just looked so pretty and I thought it’d be such a shame if I had to leave you alone with your cousin, or, er - fiancée I suppose, for another moment.”

James Potter just called him pretty and Regulus is absolutely positive that he’s going to implode. His brain is spiraling. Regulus has wanted to hear James call him pretty since he was ten years old and first learned what a crush was, this can’t be real.

“What?” Regulus needs to hear him say it again. Needs to confirm that he didn’t just hallucinate James Potter calling him pretty.

“I mean, I’m sure the formalities of all of this is exhausting. Narcissa will be fine in there, she’s the sister who got all of the manners you know. Your mom picked the best cousin for you, I suppose. Way better than Bellatrix, eh?” James smirks as he rambles and Regulus wishes he would just stop and tell him he’s pretty again.

“Shut up, you idiot. What did you say before you got fixated on the fact that I’m marrying my cousin?” He’s getting impatient now. James is so insufferable. Why is he even asking him to say it again? It’s not like he can act on his childhood crush looking at him like this.

“Oh, er, I said you were pretty. And Godric, you really are beautiful…” James trails off, staring at Regulus with a type of longing that no one has looked at him with before. Regulus feels frozen in time. He can’t believe this is real. He wants to kiss him so badly it hurts, but he’s also aware that James was clearly at this party for nefarious reasons. This could all just be a game. Regulus’ heart couldn’t handle it if it was just a game. Instead, Regulus shoves James further away.

“You shouldn’t have ever come here,” Regulus feels like uttering these words betrays his very soul, but James doesn’t belong here. He’s innocent, free from the clutches of the Dark Lord and the dark, cold things that lurk beneath Regulus’ skin. James belongs in the sun.

Suddenly, James looks around the garden, grabs Regulus’ hand, and pulls him along the path. He hesitates at first, but James is relentless, tugging at him until they reach a willow tree. The branches reach down towards the ground in a thick curtain, James holds them aside and they slip under the willow. It feels like they’re in their own world, dark but not cold. Warm, because Regulus is holding James Potter’s hand.

[hircines-hunter]

WIP Wednesday

Hi hi hi! 😊 have a preview of the thing I’ve been working on for the past 3 days. It’s now like 14k idk if I’m gonna post a long one shot or divide into chapters yet. But either way. It will be eventual Ralof/OC. But for now, it’s kind of in the air

Gonna tag : @umbracirrus @madamefluffnstuff @thequeenofthewinter @bostoniangirl21 @vivifriend

@rakaiawriter @oblivions-dawn

“Ci? Ciara?”

Who called her? It sounded like Ralof. Ciara groaned. She lurched forward. Her eyes fluttered open. Too bright. She went to shield her face, realizing her hands were bound. “Divines.” She mumbled.

“Thank the Divines. You’re finally awake, Ci.”

“Ralof?” She blinked. “What…? Where are we?” Ciara looked around. She saw the gate down the road. Helgen? She looked around the carriage. Her eyes widened when she saw Jarl Ulfric sitting next to her. Gagged, bruised, and bound. “Divines. Ralof….” She felt tears roll down her cheek.

“You're a civilian. And about to marry Hadvar. I’m sure you’ll be okay.” Ralof’s face darkened. He leaned over on his knees.

“This is…. The Empire can’t do this.” She whispered. She looked over when Ralof laughed. She bit her lip until she tasted blood.

“It’s amazing how easily that view can change. This is how they’ve always been, Ci.” Ralof looked at her. He hadn’t seen her in five years. How had she changed so much physically? “What were you doing out there?”

“Alchemy. Jazbay grapes. Canis root. Creep cluster.”

“You haven’t changed.” He smiled a bit.

Ciara looked at him. She looked over when she saw the gates open. She saw General Tullius.

“Damned Elves.” Ralof spat as he saw the Thalmor.

Ciara looked around Helgen, trying to find a familiar face. Would they even listen to her about being engaged to Hadvar?

The carriage came to a stop. She followed the Stormcloaks off the carriage. Her heart stopped when she heard a familiar voice. Her eyes instantly welled.

“Ralof of Riverwood.”

Hadvar held the list. Is there where he’d been stationed for the past month? More tears rolled down her face. Hadvar’s eyes widened when he saw her—dressed in rags. A bruise and dried blood on her temple. “Ciara? Captain, she’s not on the list!” Ciara took a few steps towards Hadvar.

“She goes to the block.” Ciara’s heart stopped. She stared at Hadvar and then the captain.

“Captain, that’s my…. She’s my fianc-” Hadvar stammered. His heart pounded in his ears. He felt sweat bead on his forehead.

The captain turned towards Hadvar. “Are you a traitor as well? If your woman is one, that makes you one as well. And I can add you to the list. Think about your next words.”

“She’s not a traitor. She’s a healer.” He tried to explain.

“She goes to the block. Don’t ask again. Or you’ll join her.”

Hadvar bit his lip. He briefly looked at Ciara and wrote her name on the list. “Ciara Finley of Riverwood. I’ll make sure your family gets your remains.”

Ciara stared in disbelief. Her jaw slackened. Her vision wavered. Her heart pounded with rage. With pain. She turned away and stood next to Ralof, leaning against him. “Fucking coward.” She clenched her jaw. She pulled on her magicka reserves—a fireball formed in her palm.

Ralof reached over and put his hands on her arm. “Save it. Wait.”

A roar pierced the skies.

Ciara looked up. As did everyone else.

“Next the Breton!”

Ciara didn’t move. She readied another fireball in her hands. She held her hands up at the soldier who approached her. She released the fireball. It exploded in the soldier’s face. He fell back, screaming and clutching his face. Ciara readied another fireball as another soldier charged at her. She ducked.

Another roar.

“What in Oblivion is that!”

A dark shadow blocked out the sun. A dragon landed on the tower. Half of the structure collapsed.

“Ci! The gods won’t give us another chance!” Ralof grabbed her arm and dragged her through the mayhem. They made it inside the keep. “Was that…?”

“A dragon.” She finished.

[kcscribbler]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @elodiah and @lokimobius.

Something soft, since I ran us off the angst rails in my last chapter.

For a moment he stands in the doorway, watching as Mobius carefully reads the instruction booklet that came with the coffee machine. Two empty cups stand ready on the counter, and the half-dozen boxes Loki has been tripping over for the last week have been opened, their contents piled on a small side table. It’s almost unbearably domestic, and it hurts in a way he was not even aware was possible.

Tagging mostly art people as I think a lot of the writers have already been tagged - but if you haven't been tagged and you see this, please join us! @doomed-spectacles, @andthekitchensinkao3

@asoeiki @natendo-art @rins-love-wins @peppermintkamz @wolfpup026 @izumiyagami14

[daffi-990]

Daffi!!! I am SO intrigued by your fantasy AU snippets I've seen so far. Can I hear a little more about that one for the wip tag game? :)

Thank you so much for asking about this wip ❤️

I have the whole story outlined, I just need to find the motivation and inspiration to write it. Think half the problem is I’m scared it won’t live up to what I’ve imagined in my head, but I’ve just got to ignore that and write (which can be tricky). After Rival Firefighters, this will be my next multi chapter fic, so I’m aiming to dive into it more once rivals is done 🙂

And just for you, here’s a little something from what I have written for it that isn’t spoilery (most of what I have written for this fic is stuff at the END of the story 🙈)

Buck stands frozen as Eddie swings his sword upward into the first attacker. The body drops to the floor. Dead. Eddie doesn’t even flinch, just readies his body for another attack, for another to fall at the end of his blade.

Buck knows he should probably be taking more stock of what is happening around him, keeping his wits about him, but his eyes are glued to Eddie and the way he moves, the way he effortlessly cuts down whoever is brave enough to face him. Buck knows Eddie is a warrior, the fae had told him as much, and from what Buck had been able to squeeze out of Bobby, he’s a damn good one at that. Seeing it in action before him, Buck is mesmerised. The way Eddie moves is like a dance, a deadly one, but still beautiful. He’s felled five already, and barely looks like he’s broken a sweat.

“Buck!”

Suddenly Eddie is in front of him, dark red blood smattered across his face. How can someone look so beautiful when covered in blood? It’s not fair.

“We need to keep moving!”

Buck feels a hand circle his wrist and then he’s being pulled away from the bodies and the smell of death. He wordlessly let’s Eddie lead them, their feet moving fast in a run as they flee.

“Eddie!” Bobby’s voice calls out from somewhere ahead of them. Buck searches for the source of the voice, startling slightly as Bobby appears before him. Bobby nods to Eddie who releases his wrist and then there are hands on his face, Bobby’s worried face filling his vision.

“Are you okay? Hurt?”

Buck shakes his head. “N-no.” His throat feels dry and he swallows, trying to ease the way for his words. “I’m okay. What-what’s happening?” He doesn’t want to sound like a scared kid, but right now that’s exactly how he feels.

wip tag game list

I’m also going to use this as my Tease Tidbit Tuesday because it’s Tuesday for me and I need validation haha

No pressure tagging: @wikiangela @thewolvesof1998 @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @jamespearce9-1-1 @watchyourbuck @devirnis @spagheddiediaz @malewifediaz @wildlife4life @eddiebabygirldiaz @elvensorceress @rainbow-nerdss @the-likesofus @theotherbuckley @try-set-me-on-fire @princessfbi @athenagranted @disasterbuckdiaz @giddyupbuck @fortheloveofbuddie @fcntasmas @hoodie-buck @honestlydarkprincess @jesuisici33 @jeeyuns @lover-of-mine @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @callmenewbie @captain-hen @steadfastsaturnsrings @bekkachaos @nmcggg @monsterrae1 @mellaithwen and anyone else wanting to share xx

[papabigtoes]

PAPABIGTOES!!!! DROP ANOTHER PLANET PISSED CHAPTER AND MY LIFE IS YOURS!!!!

TWILL BE READY SOONER THAN LATER M’LORDS

I usually post updates 2 chapters at a time (I feel like the first part is like the appetizer before the entree), but due to the fact this last update has taken so dang long, I’m going to be posting the first chapter of the two once it’s finished ahead of the other (although scenes for the second half have been rendered through) The good news is that the chapter posted after this one wont be as long of a wait, and is already completely written with some visuals done as is!

The bad news is, the wait isn’t due to some massive reveal, I’m afraid! I’m in the process of some intensive therapy to finally get childhood memories to stop haunting me. So half of my free time now is occupied on just *bein’*

This next chapter coming up is cookin and both chapters should be out this summer (i count end of august- early sept as still summer for the later half). The one coming up is very mature and crass, so the notes and warnings for discretion will be as always *heavily advised*. It’ll be Salacia trying his best to be the New Will Murder, to find out Dethklok hasn’t heard anything about his press tour due to being at Deus Keep (a hint for the second half, containin Nathan and the gang)

In the meantime, here’s a little sneak peak of the next chapter;

I’ll be posting more wips in time, if anyone who is waiting wants me to clarify anything in the plot, or has questions, don’t hesitate to ask, this yeti’s inbox is always open!

[britcision]

*blowing a horn* sorry my friends! For some ungodly reason for the past couple weeks Wednesday has been my busiest day/night? But never fear, I have not forgotten you and the new chapter is more than half done!

(Also got to go see a friend before she flies back to Newfoundland, climb another waterfall in 3” platforms, and do a photoshoot at said waterfall! Busy weeeeeeeek!)

So here is this week’s belated WIP Wednesday, with some more good news for y’all! Wonder Woman is here to save the day!

—————

Well You Did Get Down On One Knee part iii

There was not a single thing on Earth or the Watchtower that he wanted less than to stop and talk to John Fucking Constantine and Diana after the meeting.

To be completely fair, Constantine clearly didn’t want to have that conversation any more either; Bruce had not been wrong about how well the magician would take the news that the United States had declared war on an entire dimension.

He was visibly green, had actually ground an unlit cigarette into a grainy mess against the table in lieu of lighting up, and looked about ready to lick up the tobacco.

Diana did not look happy either, but she never had. Her face was as stony and grave as Bruce had ever seen it, concern writ large even as she caught his eye.

The sure knowledge that her lasso would follow if he tried to leave was the only thing that kept him from ignoring her.

But since the only thing he wanted in the world at this moment was to have his son in his arms, and there was no chance of that happening until they were in the same dimension once more…

Bruce shot a quick, questioning look at Clark as the traitor made his way to the exit along with the rest of the Justice League. The Kryptonian at least had the grace to look a little guilty as he shook his head, stepping quickly out the door.

Wonder Woman hadn’t specifically told everyone else to get the fuck out. She had simply molded herself into an immovable force, concluded the meeting, and instructed Bruce alone to remain and discuss these… complications.

Bruce considered making an argument for Superman’s inclusion. They were the original three, and they’d probably need at least his and Aquaman’s help to handle the diplomatic situation.

Possibly the Oa, and Bruce was quite sure Green Lantern wasn’t looking forward to that possibility any more than he was. Hal Jordan talked a good game, always far too flippant, but he’d been pale enough by the end of the lecture that his suit made him look frankly unwell.

Unpleasant times would be in all of their futures it seemed. It was no real comfort as he slipped into a seat across from Wonder Woman and the slumped form of John Constantine.

The magician didn’t even look up, but clearly noticed.

“Didn’t fuckin’ think anyone’d fuck this up worse’n you, Bats,” he groaned, face still pressed into the table.

Bruce grunted, uninterested in his judgement.

“There are new complications we should focus on.” A vain hope, and one Diana instantly crushed.

“One that makes the contents of our discussion all the more vital,” she corrected sharply, piercing blue eyes narrowed as she watched his face. “It seems we have already caused unintentional offence.”

Which was an extremely light way to phrase the declared genocide, but Bruce didn’t bother arguing that position. Not when Constantine would do it for him.

But the mage just let out a long, hearty groan.

“Offence. Yeah. Maybe if we saw off the United States and toss it through a portal the rest of us will be fine,” he snarked, raising his head just enough to bang it off the table. Repeatedly.

By the third bang Diana gripped the back of his head, holding him in place against the table.

“Whatever the situation,” she growled, her tone daring either of them to comment, “we must deal with it as it is. You believe we would have noticed any countermeasures from the former Ghost King?”

She released her grip a moment later, and Constantine rolled his head just enough to glare at her through one eye.

“Pariah Dark? Sister, it wouldn’ta been a single town bein’ pulled off the map. We’d have lost the continent, and probably the world. You wouldn’t miss it,” he added with a bitter laugh, clearly considering banging his head off the table again.

Diana placed a hand on the table. Constantine set his head back down gently.

“And the new king?” She prodded, all icy control.

Bruce had to admit, even he felt calmer watching her.

He knew all the follies and foibles of gods, had no delusions about the limits of her power. He also knew her strengths. Her wisdom. Her ability to cut through complex issues with sword or words.

Whatever he missed, she was removed enough from this mess to catch.

Constantine shrugged, still not rising.

“No fuckin’ clue. All I know is they’re better’n Pariah, which is the lowest damn bar I ever saw. They call them Balance, and we’re not gonna fuckin’ like when the scales come due.”

Bruce’s brows furrowed. What could be a sufficient counterweight for demanding a whole people be hunted and experimented on until extinction?

The dead always vastly outnumbered the living.

Diana cut across his thoughts, her tone as sharp as her blade.

“So you believe we’d notice.”

Constantine sighed heavily and flopped back in his seat hard enough that he nearly toppled over. Diana steadied the chair with one hand, eyebrow rising archly.

Constantine stopped flailing, went to fold his arms, and instead stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Probably’d be pretty hard to miss too,” he agreed gruffly. Diana nodded, having received the answer she wanted, and interlaced her fingers.

“Then we have time to rectify matters before word reaches his ears.” She paused, brow furrowing as she recounted John’s words. “Do we not know if the King is a man?”

Constantine shrugged again, pulling something unidentifiable from his pocket before hastily shoving it back in, coming out again with a lighter. He spun it between his fingers, eyes fixed on the metal lid.

“Nah. “King” is just a loose translation to living tongues, for what yer used to. Easier to say than “Supreme High Ruler, Core of the Realms”. Not even likely that they were ever human; not even the Ancients could take Pariah solo to take the crown, so a human ghost wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Huffing out a mighty breath, Constantine looked from the lighter to Bruce, his gaze somehow immeasurably more tired. Bruce had imagined that talking about Amity Park made the man look ancient.

He looked haggard enough to be an ancient ghost himself now.

Raising his other hand, he began counting off points on his fingers.

“We know they’re young. Everything agrees on that. Could be any time in the past few centuries, but it’s still a timeline. We know they’re tougher’n Hell and all its demons put together, cuz they put Pariah down single handed. Had to to get the throne. Might not have Ended him, the Casket of Eternal Slumber’s not turned up looking for a new occupant.”

The magician stared at his two fingers for a moment, then sighed and raised a third.

“And we know ghosts like them. They’re less scared, though most of ‘em never knew shit about Pariah. Didn’t even react to him waking, which had to happen for the change in power. That or it all went down too fast for the shockwaves to reach us here; not bloody likely. Wouldn’t take more than a day, and ghosts fight for decades on a whim.”

He hesitated for a moment, considering that last finger. Finally he sighed and shook his head.

“Can’t rule it out though. Pariah waking up’d be as much an emergency for them as it’d be for us, putting his ass back down is an all hands on deck situation on either side of the veil. If this new king is Balance, Pariah’d be their opposite,” he finished gruffly, glaring at all three digits before stuffing both hands into his pockets.

Bruce nodded, drawing a deep, calming breath in through his nose and then out through his mouth. Even this much discussion had something itching in the back of his mind, a building tension that he had to Get Away.

He was in control of it though. Could tell the difference between his own unease and the burning ember of the oath.

Turn and run right away his ass. Magic could never hold out against cool, calm logic.

“And this new king, Balance, has stamped a damn mark on Jason.”

And his breath hitched.

Sharp, white hot panic flared behind his eyes, every muscle clenching with the effort of not leaping straight from the table. The only reason he didn’t was because he had no idea where to go.

What would he even do? Run to Jason’s side? The boy was in another dimension, far beyond Bruce’s reach.

Again.

He was losing Jason again. Losing him to this Ghost King, this Balance, this-

Diana’s hand clamped firmly over his, the Amazon’s grip immovable steel. Bruce felt his bones grinding together before he even noticed he’d stopped breathing, before he managed to look up enough to meet her eyes.

Stern, determined, brilliant blue locked with his. Her grip tightened a little further, the ribbing on his gloves creaking with the pressure.

She wouldn’t break them… probably. They were designed to hold up against any of the supers the League dealt with. Prolonged contact was another thing entirely though.

His attention now locked on her face, Bruce managed a deep breath in along with her. Held it when she did. Let it out.

She didn’t release him for another few repetitions, until he was breathing mostly on his own again. Then she returned her attention to Constantine.

“What.” It wasn’t aggressive. Just a completely flat, completely toneless statement.

Constantine gave her an entirely hopeless smile, pulling his hands from his pockets to give her jazz hands.

“And that’s what he’s not ready to hear yet. Your boy, Jason, Red Hood, has gotten himself personally warded by the Ghost King. He’s the next thing to invulnerable right now,” he added bitterly, as if that made any of it better.

An icy hand clenched in Bruce’s chest again, but he forced himself to still. To breathe through it. To not turn and run, run until he found his child and tore him away from whatever influence had him.

The Ghost King had a hold of Jason. Jason who’d all but ordered Bruce to let him go.

“And Jason must have been in direct contact with the King to receive these wards?” Diana asked sharply, and Bruce’s head snapped back to her.

It was a good question. Important, obvious, there was a connection there that he should be making, but he couldn’t think. His head was spinning, heart pounding, and every shadow seemed black as pitch.

Constantine grunted an agreement, shooting Bruce an almost sympathetic look.

Could. Could this be the oath? Not his own instinctive, natural panic?

Bruce couldn’t tell, he’d been so afraid for so long, ever since he held Jason’s broken body in his arms. Ever since he buried his son.

It felt the same. But he had mastered that fear long ago, so this would not control him now. He had to be better.

Frowning at Diana, he leaned forward.

“Explain.” She’d probably assumed that he’d made the same connection. He probably should have.

There was just a brief flash of surprise on her face before her expression softened, her hand gentling over his.

“Jason was the one who told you of these Anti Ecto Acts, was he not?” She asked pointedly, a dark brow arching delicately.

Bruce about managed a grunt of agreement, his jaw clenched too tightly to speak. She waited a moment longer, watching his face, and then sighed.

“Then is it not likely that either he has told Balance of these Acts, or that Balance was the one that told him?”

Constantine jerked and got halfway through a bellowed curse before she cut him off with a glare. Her tone brooked no argument as she continued with a firm, frosted patience.

“Jason is a principled young man, even if not of the exact principles you prefer. Either he has warned you because he believes we have time to fix this, or because the King would prefer we handle it,” she said bluntly.

It sounded so simple, put like that. Far too simple. Bruce shook his head, leaning in.

“We can’t know for sure-”

“Batman.” There was nothing harsh in her tone. Nothing so overtly aggressive as the glare she kept giving Constantine. Just a calm, cool statement that sucked the air from his lungs.

The weight of her own mantle, the Amazon princess who would one day be Queen. Not his friend Diana; Wonder Woman.

Once she was sure he wouldn’t continue, she fixed him with a sapphire stare.

“Do you believe Jason Todd would condone the end of the world?” She asked simply, and that at least was that plain.

“No.” It didn’t even require thought; whatever he feared ever since his son took his first life, Bruce knew that.

Jason was fundamentally a good boy. So kind, so giving, ironically he had been the most well adjusted boy Bruce had ever given the mantle to.

Which was what made what he’d become so painful. It was everything he never should have been.

Wonder Woman nodded as if that solved all the rest.

“And yet you called the meeting, not him. He has known for several days already and did nothing to alert any of us. Therefore, he does not believe this is an urgent threat.”

It sounded good, and Bruce almost believed it before Constantine snorted.

“Yeah, great, except the kid has no fuckin’ clue what he’s dealing with. Didn’t even know he’d been fuckin’ marked or that sellin’ his fuckin’ service was the dumbest fuckin’ thing he coulda done,” he grumbled and Bruce’s heart fell.

Wonder Woman was not so easily swayed. She raised an eyebrow slowly at the magician.

“And could those protective marks have been placed on Jason against his will?” She asked pointedly, like she knew the first thing about magic.

Constantine hesitated. Frowned a little, thinking hard. Finally he threw both hands in the air and leaned back in his chair, scrubbing them down his face.

“Technically, yes, alright? But I can’t think of a damn reason why they’d bother. Like I told the old Bat, it’s technically a good thing; I couldn’t even get a basic diagnostic spell off, he’s completely fuckin’ magic proof an’ anythin’ that can read that ward will run like fuck.”

Something in Bruce’s chest flickered hopefully. Wonder Woman nodded firmly, then redirected her stare to him.

“Then until we have reason not to, we assume that Jason Todd has control of this situation. He has assigned us to deal with these Acts, either before his king discovers them or on their behalf. You, Batman, will defer to his experience along with that of our experts,” she declared with all the ringing command she was capable of.

It chafed. And yet… he could hear the echo of Harley’s words in her voice.

What if Jason was wrong? It was the kind of thing he always thought about, the kind of thing he couldn’t stop thinking about. The kind of thing that had the Batman able to stand and go toe to toe with gods.

But what if Jason was right? What if Harley, Diana, Constantine were right, and his usual measures would spell disaster?

He had a dozen contingency plans that any member of the League could use to take him down.

—————

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai i @greenpyrowolf @frivolous-pastel @honeysuckletook

Thaaaaaat’s a whole lotta new names that can’t be properly tagged, have I missed something?

[justsome-di]

Writeblr Intro

I go by Di, scumbag artist. Self-portrait in bottom right hand corner there.

You can find me here on Tumblr, on Instagram and Threads @ justsomedi, Patreon @ Just Some Di, and AO3 @ justsome_di

If you ever feel like hitting me up, my inbox is always open! I also like talking about my leopard gecko, manga/anime, gay shit, and internet mysteries and lore!

Check out my Carrd for up-to-date info!

I so far have four projects I've been posting about/working on!

Nobody Ends Up Dead in a Bathtub, Everyone Keeps Their Organs (or affectionately shortened to NEUD) is my baby. My favorite child. I love them more than the others.

NEUD is currently up on AO3, Tumblr, and Patreon for free. Bonus short stories featuring the cast are available on Patreon under the paid member tier.

Intro Post: Here

A New York office worker and a sex worker get set up on a date–one thinking it’s a real blind date, the other under the impression it’s an ordinary appointment. After realizing it was all a shitty prank, they set out for revenge. Their plan: show up to an upcoming Halloween office party as a genuine couple, convincing the pranksters they genuinely fell in love and refusing to let themselves become the butt of the joke.

The Fairest of All Stars is currently being posted on AO3, Tumblr, and Patreon. It's a sapphic fantasy! My only fantasy story I've ever tried writing. It's very self-indulgent.

Patreon members are five chapters ahead of what's on AO3 and Tumblr.

WIP Intro: Here

Andy didn’t mean to become a pirate captain, but after killing the captain of her ship, she finds herself thrust into the role. Years after the incident, she is fierce and feared and recovering from a tropical fever that wiped out half her crew. Just as they’re about to dock, they find an injured siren left behind by her choir. Andy, drawn to her, pulls her onto the ship and decides to keep her there until she recovers. But with the Navy hunting for both pirates and sirens, Andy has just made her ship an even bigger target for an iniquitous captain looking for revenge.

On a Few Terms and Conditions is a WIP still very much in its infancy. The summary thus far:

Youngest child of a prominent, political family, Miles was once hailed a boy genius. Valedictorian of his private high school, full ride to study politics in D.C., promising career ahead of him. But by junior year of college he has a major issue: he’s on academic probation. To keep it a secret from his parents and the public eye, he has to secretly find a tutor to get caught up over the summer in order to graduate on time. The solution: Liam, the youngest of another political family who may or may not hate Miles. Throw in some political drama, Miles’ bad habits catching up to him, a little romance, and they’re all in for an interesting summer.

Angel is a project I've been working and re-working over and over again. I'm very, very passionate about it, but the plot is all over the place. There are a few WIP posts up on Tumblr.

WIP Intro: Here

Angel is the youngest member of boy group, NXT. For four years, he's followed every expectation his company has set for him. Diets, dating bans, media training. But after a string of bad publicity and a drinking habit he can't shake, he's gotten a new reputation of being a rebellious bad boy. While NXT is on a summer break, he's told to shape up and get ready for a side solo career that's been perfectly packaged for him. At first, it looks like everything might be okay despite the mounting pressure. And then he meets an indie artist, Eisle. Eisle grows his hair long, paints his nails, kisses boys, and doesn't listen to anyone. And it's all very confusing for Angel who's just trying to keep up with the image his company made for him when he was 15.