#i just want to read these fics what do you mean i have to write them first 💀

[imaginespazzi]

Our Merry Eternity

And she swears that every Christmas season, it feels like they fall deeper and deeper in love with each other.

(In which a writer would like to argue that a day after Christmas, is a perfectly reasonable time to release a Christmas fic)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff, fluff, fluff with some hurt/comfort and angst if you squint

Words: 9.4K (if I could write things shorter maybe y'all would get things faster but alas)

TW: Implied sexual content/suggestive content, mentions of divorce, mentions of injuries, swearing

A/N: MERRY (one day after) CHRISTMAS MY LOVIES <3 It seems like everyone wanted domestic fluff and who am I to deny the people what they want (even if it is a little later than I intended it to be) and I didn't realize how much I missed eternity-verse till I wrote this. I'mma keep this short and sweet and go through the basics. Such as the fact that I did not edit. I eventually will but for now, feel free to let me know about any grammar/spelling/formatting issues. And even though I haven't had the time to go through my inbox in a hot second, I promise I will soon so as always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see in the future. Have a lovely rest of your holidays my angels <3

It’s beginning (to look a lot like Christmas) 

Paige isn’t the biggest fan of Christmas; she doesn’t dislike it by any means but she’s never understood the fascination everyone else seems to have with it. Perhaps it’s because when she was younger, Christmas had been her parents’ favorite holiday to try and one-up each other. They’d competed in everything, from how big the tree was to how evenly spread the icing on the cookies were. Eventually the excitement of getting a big expensive present from one parent that would only be rivaled by an even bigger, more expensive present from the other wore off and all that was left was this hollow feeling of being torn in two. Her parents have matured now -no longer in a constant battle for her approval now that they had other kids to focus on as well- but the magic of Christmas had long worn off and Paige hadn’t bothered trying to rediscover it. 

Until now. 

Because right now, watching -through a facetime call that’s been running for almost four hours now- Azzi run around Walmart, searching for decorations and presents with her exasperated family in tow, almost feels a little magical. The way the younger girl’s eyes twinkle when she finds the perfect gift, the way her dimples deepen when she triumphantly wins an argument against her mother for an ornament her tree needs, makes Paige think that it would be so easy to fall in love with Christmas, if she got to spend it with Azzi. 

And it’s like Azzi’s reading her mind because suddenly the younger girl’s face is filling all of Paige’s screen as she holds the phone close to her face, lips pouting in a way that has the blonde feelings decidedly unfriendly feelings toward a girl she’s barely known for six months, but feels like a best friend she’s known all her life. 

“I wish we could spend Christmas together,” Azzi says with a slight whine, “and then you could help me with all of this. They’re absolutely no help-” her last sentence is cut off by her family and Paige laughs as the Fudds break out into a series of indignant protests. 

“Oh so you just want me for manual labor or something huh?” Paige teases, leaning back against her bed and folding her arms across her chest, “and here I thought it’s cause you missed me.”

“I do miss you,” Azzi says matter-of-factly.

“Nah,” Paige shakes her head, “sounds like you just need another person to slave around for you.”

Azzi's mouth falls open at the accusation as the Fudds break into laughter behind her, the sound of it making something impossibly warm bloom in Paige’s chest. 

“I do not make people slave around for me.”

“Yeah you do. You’re the princess. You order us around and we do as we’re told.”

“Here, here-ow!” Jon’s noise of agreement is cut off by his sister elbowing him in the stomach, “do all that work and get rewarded by violence too.”

“I tell you I miss you and this is how you repay me?” Azzi asks, her voice tinged with drama. 

“Nah I still don’t believe you miss me,” it’s a lie; Paige is fully aware Azzi misses her -thinks that the younger girl has to feel at least a semblance of the emptiness she feels herself at the distance between them- but she likes making Azzi repeat it; likes the constant confirmation that Azzi misses her too. 

“Of course I miss you P, after all,” Azzi’s eyes glint with mischief, “we’re engaged aren’t we? A girl’s gotta miss her fiancé.”

The cavalier use of the tone of endearment makes Paige freeze. It’s a joke; a callback to the fact that Paige had practically threatened Azzi that she’d have to marry her if the younger girl won their little pop-a-shot competition last summer at the Minnesota State fair. Paige hadn’t been thinking, it had just slipped out but then Azzi had won the game and then there were rings being exchanged and somehow the whole thing had become one big running joke between the two of them. Except, the idea of forever with Azzi doesn’t feel much like a joke to Paige. It feels like a wish, a hope, a want, a need  something she’s not quite ready to admit to herself yet. 

“I miss you too Az,” Paige says softly as they grin at each other through the phone, “can’t wait to see my best friend soon.”

Thirteen days to be exact -they’d planned to spend the last half of winter break together- but it’s not like Paige is crossing the days off of her calendar or anything. 

“Fiancé,” Azzi corrects and Paige’s heart flutters despite her brain trying to remind her that this is just a bit they’re playing at. 

“Right, so fiancé,” the word tastes like sugar cookies and marshmallows on the tip of her tongue, “you get my present yet?”

“You know I have and before you ask,” Azzi gives her a knowing look when Paige excitedly opens her mouth, “no I won’t give you a hint about what it is.”

“But Azziiiiiii-”

“Absolutely not Paige,” Azzi says firmly, “presents are meant to be surprises.”

“Aren’t fiancés meant to tell each other everything?” Paige scrunches her nose. 

“Not this. Christmas presents are a sacred secret,” the younger girl replies gravely. 

“And who made you an expert on all things Christmas presents?”

“Santa did,” Azzi retorts haughtily. 

Paige snorts, “well Santa doesn’t ex-”

“PAIGE MADISON BUECKERS,” Azzi yells and the blonde can tell by the way she winces immediately that the younger girl’s little outburst had gotten her more than a couple of wary looks, “Paige Madison Bueckers,” she hisses again, her voice much quieter this time, “you take that back right now!”

“Az-”

“Take it back!”

“Bro you’re fifteen years old,” Paige argues. 

“Believing has no age,” Azzi hums airily, “now take it back.”

“Nope!”

“Take it back or I’ll end our engagement,” Azzi threatens and Paige blanches at ultimatum. 

“You wouldn’t,” she gasps. 

“Try me.”

Paige is sixteen and she’s only really just started to learn what love is, but she thinks, as she sits on her bed bickering on facetime over the most ridiculous of topics with a girl who makes her feel things she’s never felt before, that maybe love is just something as simple and crazy as pretending admitting Santa is real so she can prevent her fake engagement, that’s almost beginning to feel a little much like a real promise, from being called off.

2. With you (under the mistletoe)

The truth is that neither of them quite remember what started the fight or even really why it had continued after. All they know is that one minute everything had been fine and then the next minute, they were fuming at each other and their plane ride back to the DMV for Christmas had passed in uncharacteristic silence. They'd parted ways at the airport -glumly sauntering over to their waiting families while decidedly avoiding looking over in each other’s directions- with a dreadful mixture of regret, guilt and the feeling of missing each other. But despite the fact that they were both clearly miserable, Paige and Azzi were both too stubborn and too eager to prove which one of them could be more stubborn. This was their first true fight after they’d gotten together earlier this year, and they were both adamant that the other one would apologize first. 

But Azzi can feel the urge to cave in grow stronger and stronger by the minute as she feels Paige’s body against her own as the blonde reaches over the younger girl to grab something from the shelf. The contact is unnecessary and she knows Paige is doing it on purpose, trying to get a reaction and it takes every inch of self-control Azzi has to not shiver as the older girl presses herself against her back, acting like whatever she’s grabbing isn’t right at the front of the shelf. Azzi tries to focus on the cookies she’s icing, tries to keep her hands still as she traces the outline of a star in royal icing, tries to do anything but focus on the way Paige’s warm breath is tickling against the back of her neck. 

It’s two days till Christmas and the Fudd family and friends have gathered to do their annual cookie baking and decorating tradition. And Katie had been clear that no matter what issues Paige and Azzi were having, they wouldn’t interfere with the open invitation that Paige had always had -since she’d moved to the DMV but even before that really- to join them throughout the Christmas festivities. Azzi had pretended to be a little miffed by it but secretly she’d been hoping that her girlfriend -god she still got such a thrill out of being able to call her that- would show up. They’d only really been apart for a day, but since they’d met, Paige and Azzi hadn’t gone often without talking to each other -whether it was in person or through text or on the phone- and so 24 hours had felt a little bit like 24 years and Azzi had spent every second missing the girl who’d long since become a part of her soul. And even though Paige had grunted about only being here for Drew’s sake, Azzi knows -by the way the blonde’s eyes had drunk in the sight of her when she’d let her into the house, by the way her stiff shoulders had relaxed just by being near her again- that Paige had missed her just as much. 

But neither of them are quite ready to admit it yet, and so, as they bustle around the confined space of the Fudd’s kitchen, Paige continues to find ways to light Azzi’s skin on fire and Azzi continues to pretend it isn’t making her burn with want. 

“Noooooooo,” a drawled out whine from the kitchen table has Azzi and Paige jumping away from each other as they both turn to look at Drew. 

Azzi’s eyes widen and Paige bursts into laughter as they take in the scene in front of them. Clearly the little boy had overestimated his strength and the piping bag had burst and now Drew stands by the table, his lips slightly parted in shock, as the red icing -originally intended for the Santa hat cookies- drips down the front of his shirt. Jon and José are doubled down in their chairs, tears practically streaming down their faces as the sound of their laughter echoes through the walls. 

“Oh my god,” Paige manages to get out between her giggles, “what did you do Drewskie.”

“Nothing,” her little brother immediately defends himself, “it literally burst out of nowhere.”

“Sure it did little Hulk, sure it did,” José teases as he swipes his finger over Drew’s ruined shirt and then licks the icing off of it, the casualness of it causing Jon and Paige to burst into another round of laughter while Azzi tries as hard as she can to keep her own giggles contained but a smile slips through the cracks. 

“It’s not funny,” Drew stomps his feet petulantly, “I’m all sticky and icky and gross. Azzi,” he looks at the brunette with imploring eyes, “tell them to stop- OH MY GOD ARE YOU LAUGHING AT ME TOO.”

Azzi's eyes widen as she tries to protest, “no of course not. C’mon let’s get you a new-”

But before she can put her plan into action, clearly Drew has a different idea and before Azzi can stop it from happening, the little boy is grabbing another piping bag -this one with green icing- and aiming it straight at Jose. There’s a split second of silence as the green icing arcs through the air, almost in slow motion, before landing with a splat on Jose’s newly bought t-shirt. And then the room bursts into chaos as Drew immediately dives behind Azzi’s legs, Paige and Jon continue to lose their minds laughing and José lets out a loud scream. 

“WHAT THE FU-”

“José language,” both Paige and Azzi reprimand immediately and José glares at them but corrects himself anyways. 

“What the fudge dude,” José scowls at Drew, “this is a brand new shirt.”

For his part, the little boy shrugs, “I thought you liked eating icing off of shirts. I figured I’d make it easier and let you eat it off of your own shirt. 

If it’s possible this somehow makes Jon and Paige laugh harder and instead of focusing his wrath on Drew who’s still nestled behind Azzi’s legs, José turns on the two of them instead. 

“You guys think this is SO funny don’t you,” he says menacingly, grabbing for two more piping bags. 

“José no,” Paige is the first one to recover as she tries to turn away from the mess but it’s too late, and just as she’s trying to bolt out the door, she’s stopped by a glob of pink icing landing with a splat on the back of her plain white shirt. 

“Oh you’re so dead,” Paige whispers angrily as she turns around, grabbing another bag of icing and aiming it directly at José’s face. 

And then there’s no stopping anyone as Azzi watches as all the beautiful icing she’d painstakingly made and dyed into different colors begins to be thrown all over the kitchen, a rainbow painting itself all over the walls and floors. Drew darts out from behind her legs, joining into the mayhem as he starts to pelt Jon with all sorts of colors. 

Seeing them all distracted and knowing it’s only a matter of time before she gets sucked into all of it, Azzi slowly tiptoes backwards, wanting nothing to do with the mess, and she’s just about to turn around and run up the stairs when a low voice echoes behind her. 

“And where do you think you’re going,” because of course Paige had noticed her trying to escape; Paige always noticed when it came to Azzi. 

“Paige,” Azzi warns slowly, trying to move away from the other girl, her eyes fixated on the purple icing in the blonde’s hands, “please.”

Paige smirks as she takes another step towards Azzi, “this is a little unfair isn’t it?”

“Hey I didn’t start any of this,” Azzi puts her hands up in surrender, choosing to back away from the stairs and towards the living room instead, “go fight the people who did.”

Paige shakes her head as she takes another step, “I already got ‘em all. Amateurs,” she says cockily, “they think they can beat me in a food fight.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, “is there anything you’re not arrogant about?”

“Can’t help that I’m good at everything,” Paige shrugs and Azzi’s about to come up with a snarky retort when the blonde’s eyes soften, “except I guess- I guess I’m not too great at apologizing.”

Gone is the air of overconfidence that had surrounded the older girl just a second before and in her place is that soft, vulnerable Paige that Azzi is so desperately in love with and she can’t help but take a step towards the blonde. 

“We should both probably apologize huh,” she says quietly, “think we both said some petty shit we didn’t mean.” 

It’s true; they’d known each other so long and so deeply that they knew exactly how to push each other’s buttons, how to say the exact wrong thing to rile each other up when they were frustrated. The fight had been inevitable; an explosion of all the angst that existed between two athletes who were both fighting injuries and watching their team struggle without them. It had started with something little that Azzi can’t quite remember but then they were yelling about other things -Paige’s grievances about how Azzi had an irritating habit of hovering and Azzi’s issues with Paige’s tendency to close herself off- and it had ended with both of them near tears as they’d frustratedly stomped into their rooms. 

“I’m sorry,” Paige says it first, as she loops her arm around Azzi’s waist, bringing the younger girl as close to her as she can, “I love you. I miss you.”

Azzi smiles, her hands finding their rightful place around Paige’s neck, not caring that the other girl is still covered in sticky icing,  “don’t gotta miss me baby. I’m right here,” she says softly, resting her forehead against the blonde’s, “I’m sorry too. I love you so much.”

“Look up,” Paige says softly, as she strokes Azzi’s cheek and the younger girl does as she’s told, laughing when she notices the mistletoe hanging above them. 

“Kissing under the mistletoe? You’re so cliché Bueckers.”

“Clichés are clichés for a reason Az,” Paige hums faintly before she’s pulling Azzi into a searing kiss, holding her as tightly as she physically can. 

And yet Azzi still finds a way to tug her closer, trying to find a way to meld their bodies into one as she presses herself as close to Paige as possible. She’s just about to suggest they take this upstairs -because god has she missed being with Paige- when instead she feels the older girl pull away and before she can even react, she’s being hit in the face with a stream of bright purple icing. 

“PAIGE WHAT THE FUCK,”

“Sorry baby. Just couldn’t help myself,” Paige grins as she steps back into Azzi’s space, gently attaching her lips to Azzi’s cheeks as her tongue languidly licks away at the icing and this time the younger girl doesn’t even try to hide the way her body reacts to it, “I promise I’ll clean you up though.”

3. I’ll be home (for Christmas)

“I’m good I swear,” Azzi’s voice is raw and hoarse like it often gets when she’s been crying and despite the younger girl’s best efforts to put on a brave front, Paige can hear right through it. 

She cocks an eyebrow, shifting from her back onto her elbows and placing her phone -with the facetime call- against the headboard, “then why won’t you let me see your face?”

“It’s not me. Something’s up with my camera. I don’t know what,” and if it was anyone else, even someone else who also knew that Azzi had literally just gotten a new phone, maybe the attempted sincerity in the brunette’s voice would be enough to convince them that she was telling the truth. 

But Paige has every line of the Azzi Fudd façade memorized, knows exactly how to discern the little cadences in her girlfriend’s voice and read between the lines. She knows Azzi’s purposely refusing to show her face; knows that it’s probably because it would take Paige one glance at said beautiful, gorgeous, stunning face to know that there had been tears running down it just a little bit ago. 

The blonde sighs, choosing to let the lie go and instead focus on the precious few minutes she’s got to speak to her girlfriend in peace. This is the first time Paige and Azzi have truly been apart for an extended amount of time since the latter had gotten to UConn and somehow the past few weeks have felt worse than when they’d spent months and months apart. With Paige trying to lead an injury-riddled team and Azzi rehabbing another torn ACL, the opportunities to indulge in a proper facetimes call had been few and far between. And when they did finally find the team, it wasn’t just that they were physically tired; they were both emotionally drained too. It was hard recharging when their batteries -each other- were so far away and every call felt hollow; like something was missing. 

“I miss you,” Paige says finally, feet digging into her bed as she musters up a soft smile, wishing that she could see Azzi return it with one of her own instead of staring at a black screen with only her own face in the corner. 

“Tell me something I don’t know,” the younger girl says lightly and something uncomfortable churns in Paige’s stomach. 

“You uh- you haven’t said it back in a while,” she says slowly, trying to keep her voice casual. 

“Said what?”

Paige gulps, “that you miss me,” she gives Azzi a second to respond before her nerves have her speaking a mile per minute, “I mean not that you- not that you have to say it back or anything it’s just- you usually do- or like you always did and you just- you just haven’t said it back. And I mean I don’t say I miss you just so you’ll say it back or anything. I mean I do- you know- miss you and so that why I say it- because- because I miss you- I miss you so fucking much baby and I just- I just want you to know that but you haven’t- you haven’t said it back in a little bit and I just- Azzi,” her voice cracks as she tries not to let the tears slip through, “you do miss me don’t you?”

The other girl is quiet for so long that Paige thinks maybe she’s said too much; her mind rushes to the worst possibilities because what if Azzi really doesn’t miss her? What if her insecurities are right and the time apart has made Azzi realize that she wants something other than Paige?

“Of course I miss you Paige,” Azzi’s voice is thick with tears and all of Paige’s previous fears are replaced with worry instead, “god baby I miss you so fucking much. I miss you all the time and I’m sorry, fuck Paige, I’m sorry if I ever made you think I didn’t but baby- I-,” she’s heaving through her tears and Paige wishes she was with her; wishes she could wipe away her tears and hold her forever. 

“Azzi-”

“I haven’t been saying it back because- because-” Azzi pushes on, still struggling to speak but determined to say her piece, “I can’t okay? I can’t keep saying it Paige- I can’t keep telling you I miss you and hearing that you miss me when we can’t do anything about it. And I get it- okay- I get it. I get that you have to be with the team and I have to be here and do my rehab and we can’t- we can’t be together right but fuck- I hate it. I hate it so much.”

“Azzi,” Paige says again helplessly. 

She hates it too; hates that it’s so close to Christmas, so close to Azzi’s favorite holiday and her girlfriend is sobbing. 

“Shit. I’m being a terrible girlfriend aren’t I? You have a game in a couple of hours and here I am being a fucking selfish wet wipe instead of wishing you luck. Fucking hell,” Azzi curses and Paige can picture her frantically pulling herself together as she tries to change her tone. 

“You could never be a terrible girlfriend,” Paige reassures softly. 

Azzi ignores her, “besides, we’ll see each other soon right? You’re gonna fly home from Toronto to Connecticut tomorrow and then come home to me after right? Just a couple more days,” and it sounds like she’s saying it more to herself than Paige, “just a few more days- few more hours really. We can do this.”

“Yeah,” Paige agrees but she can’t help but feel like even that’s too long and there’s a plan starting to form in her mind; a good use of all that NIL money she’s been earning. 

“I love you P,” Azzi says softly, and despite the heaviness from before, Paige can hear the smile in her voice, “see you soon baby.”

“I love you too Az. I’ll be home soon,” Paige replies, a large grin settling onto her face as she gets ready to bring her idea to fruition; knowing that for now, their soons don’t quite mean the same thing. 

***

Azzi thinks her parents and brother must have the patience of a saint. She’s acutely aware that she’s been a miserable grinch to be around; either ignoring them or answering them with tight one-word sentences. Since she’d come down to Virginia for her rehab, she’s kept herself holed down in her room, only coming out when absolutely necessary. The worst part of it, is that it’s her favorite time of the year and Azzi’s barely participated in all the little Christmas traditions -half of which had really been created by her- that she’d normally be excited to indulge in. 

She sighs, burrowing herself further into her pillows to block out the chatter of her family upstairs. In a couple of minutes, she’s sure one of them will come rushing downstairs, pleading for her to come join them as they make Christmas themed pancakes. And she’ll refuse -just as she has with every other fun little activity- and all though whoever’s been tasked with getting her out of her cave will persist a little longer, eventually they’ll give up, that awful look, tinged in both disappointment and pity, on their face as they go back upstairs with a promise to bring her a plate in a little bit. It’s a terrible routine that’s been on rinse and repeat and Azzi thinks she’d really like to break herself out of it, but it feels like she’s drowning in it instead, and there’s not a lifeboat in sight to pull her out of her misery. 

Turning on her side, Azzi reaches for her phone, flipping to Paige’s contact and her heart aches from their last conversation last night. God she’d been so selfish, venting like that knowing her girlfriend had a game in a couple of hours; knowing how stressful each game -no matter how easy the opponent- was with an injury-riddled team. But Paige had sounded so miserable when asking if Azzi still missed her that in a way it had been infectious and suddenly Azzi found herself letting her own hurt waterfall out of her lips. 

She scrunches her nose, eyebrows crinkling in confusion when she realizes that the last text she’d sent Paige before going to sleep  -a simple you did really good today baby, i’m proud of you right after the game- had gone unanswered. Azzi frowns, looking down at her phone as if her staring harder at it might just conjure up a message from her girlfriend. She’d fallen asleep almost right after sending it and it was unlike Paige to not have answered her by the time she woke up. Azzi rattles her brain, trying to remember if the blonde had mentioned any other plans -beyond a dinner with Aaliyah’s parents that wouldn’t have kept her from her phone- but she can’t remember anything. Briefly glancing at the time and knowing that Paige’s flight to Connectcut wasn’t supposed to leave for at least another three hours, Azzi hastily texts her girlfriend again, crossing her fingers behind her back in anticipation of a quick reply. 

Good morning Paigey <3 

She gives it exactly three minutes, stomach churning when she doesn’t get a reply. 

I miss you baby. 

Another four minutes and still no reply and Azzi starts to feel her head getting heavy with that familiar weight of over thinking. What if she’d overstepped last night? What if it was too much? What if Paige had decided that she couldn’t deal with Azzi and her crap anymore?

She can hear someone starting to hurry down the steps, the quickness making her think it’s probably one of her brother’s who’s been tasked with getting her out of her room this time. But Azzi keeps her focus on her phone, ready to reject whatever offer is about to be made. The door creaks open and she doesn’t look up, typing another message instead. 

I love you Paige. 

“I love you too Azzi.”

Azzi freezes at the sound of the oh so familiar voice, her gaze moving from her phone to the doorway in slow-motion. She blinks in disbelief, mouth falling open as she stares at the figure in her doorway, taking in the sight of a disheveled blonde ponytail, the custom UConn sweats draped on a body that’s radiating exhaustion but more than anything her eyes fixates on that smile, the one that’s always been just for her. 

“Paige,” she breathes out slowly, almost as if she’s scared that saying it will make the girl in front of her disappear like a dream. 

“Hi baby,” Paige says softly, casually pointing to her phone, “I got your message.”

“You’re here,” Azzi chokes out and then, louder, “you’re here oh my god, you’re really here,” she repeats, rushing to get out of bed, desperate to wrap her arms around Paige, to hold her and be held in return. 

“Hey, hey, hey wait baby careful,” Paige chides, her focus immediately on Azzi’s knee, “stay where you are-”

“What? Why?” Azzi pouts and that elicits a little laugh from Paige as she walks over to the brunette. 

“Because,” the older girl says quietly, as she crawls onto the bed and pulls Azzi onto her lap so the younger girl is straddling Paige’s hips, “I’m here.”

Azzi looks at her in awe, hand tracing the curves of Paige’s face like she still can’t quite believe this is real, “yeah,” she whispers, “you’re here.”

And then she’s kissing every inch of Paige’s skin that she can, memorizing the way it feels soft and smooth under her lips, trying to make up for all the lost time of the past few weeks and perhaps even for when she knows they’ll inevitably have to be separated again. Paige’s grip on her waist is tight, fingers gripping her like they’re scared to let go as she shivers under Azzi’s featherlight touch. 

“I’m here,” Paige repeats again before she guides Azzi’s lips onto her own into a feverish kiss that has both of them letting out a long-kept sigh of relief. 

It starts off innocent enough, the two of them savoring the moment, savoring the feeling of finally being in each other’s arms. But then Paige’s tongue is licking into Azzi’s mouth and the younger girl is grinding her hips in the way she knows will drive the blonde a little insane as Paige’s own hands find themselves roaming underneath Azzi’s pajama shirt, rubbing circles dangerously close to the edge of her sleep shorts. 

“Missed you- missed you so fucking much,” Azzi babbles as Paige’s mouth moves away from her lips to trail a series of kisses down her jaw, to her neck before nipping at her collarbone. 

“Me too- me fucking too,” Paige mutters between kisses as she soothes her tongue over the mark she’d just tattooed into Azzi’s skin with her teeth, eyes glazing over when it elicits a barely-concealed moan from the brunette’s lips. 

“Missed this,” Azzi groans, continuing to roll her body against Paige’s, and she thinks she could fall off the edge just like this, untouched and fully clothed. 

“I know, baby. I know,” Paige pants as she continues her assault on the young girl’s skin, “gonna take care of you. I swear. Gonna make up for everything tonight-”

“No now,” Azzi whines, hands tangling in Paige’s hair and pulling in a way that has the older girl groaning into the crook of her neck, “I need you now. I’ll be quiet, I swear. Paige please.”

“Fuck baby don’t say that. You know I can’t say no to you.”

“Then don’t say no to me,” Azzi responds with a smirk, one hand trailing down to gently flick against Paige’s nipples causing the blonde to let out a conflicted noise somewhere between pure arousal and reluctant protest. 

“I can’t,” she says finally, resting her head against Azzi’s shoulder as she purposefully grips the younger girl’s waist to keep her still. 

Azzi pouts, “why not?”

When Paige finally looks up at her, there’s a sheepish look on her face, “I made a bet with your brothers.”

“What?” 

“They said they hadn’t been able to get you out of your room and I said I could do it in ten minutes and they said it would take me a lot longer,” Paige says, hands moving animatedly and Azzi can’t help the fond smile that flitters onto her face. 

“So let me get this straight,” she says slowly, “we haven’t seen each other in weeks, haven’t fucked,” she purposefully grinds her hips down onto the other girl, “in weeks and you wanna delay it longer because you wanna win a bet against my brothers?”

Paige has the decency to look at least a little ashamed as she nods before giving Azzi a goofy grin, “yes? I love you?”

Azzi rolls her eyes as she slips off of Paige’s lap, already missing the warmth of being on top of the other girl, “can’t believe you’d rather win a bet than fuck me.”

“Nah,” Paige smirks as she stands up, her hands immediately inching themselves around Azzi’s waist, “I’d rather win a bet, use that money to get us a hotel tonight and then fuck you.”

“You’ve really thought this through haven’t you?” Azzi shakes her head, trying to hide her excitement at the idea of being in a hotel room -being alone, just the two of them- with Paige tonight. 

“Ten steps ahead always baby,” Paige grins as she presses her lips against Azzi’s, ending it quicker than either of them would like, “now hurry up so I can win this bet.”

But Azzi doesn’t move, instead she pulls Paige back into her, resting their foreheads together as she breathes in the scent of her girlfriend. 

“I’m really glad you’re home P,” she whispers and Paige smiles, gently rubbing her back, “didn’t feel like Christmas season without you.”

4. You’re all I need (underneath the tree) 

Azzi’s just putting on the finishing touches to her outfit -dangly gold hoops that Paige had gotten her just because- when she feels a pair of arms wrap around her middle, a warm body being pressed against her chest. She smiles, letting herself melt into her wife’s -God she loves being able to say that- touch, leaning her head back against Paige’s shoulder. 

“You look so pretty in that dress,” the older woman whispers into her ear as she runs her hands up and down the velvety red material covering Azzi’s body, “but you sure we have to go to your parents’ right now? Cause I think you’d look even better out of it.”

Azzi giggles; they’ve been together for almost nine years -known each other for even longer-  and yet every time Paige gives her a compliment, she feels her insides swooning, cheeks going red like she’s still a teenager whose crush is flirting with her. And she thinks this feeling will never go away, that the halo-like glow Paige’s mere presence casts around her will never fade because this love -this all-consuming sense of you’re it for me between them- is going to last forever. She’s sure of it. 

“Do you ever think of anything but sex?” Azzi rolls her eyes as she turns around in Paige’s arms, fingers immediately reaching up to fix the collar of Paige’s matching red shirt. 

Paige grins, “nah cause I’m always thinking about you and so by default I’m always thinking about sex.”

“You’re insatiable,” Azzi shakes her head. 

“Can you blame me when my wife looks like that?” Paige makes a show of looking up and down Azzi’s body, letting out a low appreciative whistle at the way the dress hugs her figure, the neckline dipping just low enough to stay respectable yet sexy. 

“You look pretty good yourself Bueckers,” Azzi hums as she grazes her teeth lightly against Paige’s neck, making the older woman shudder. 

“Careful Az,” Paige warns, the sultry lilt in her voice saying the exact opposite, “I might start getting the wrong idea.”

Azzi shrugs cheekily, “and what idea would that be?”

Paige smirks, gently tugging at Azzi’s dress to expose a shoulder before she’s attaching her lips to the newly uncovered patch of skin, “that maybe you want us to be late. Or better yet, maybe you don’t want us to go at all.”

Keening under the softness of Paige’s touch, Azzi reluctantly pushes the older woman away, and that might be worse because now she can see her eyes and the lust swimming in them makes her want to give into temptation. But they’re already running late and she has no desire to give their brother’s any teasing material, so she settles on stealing another kiss from Paige’s lips. 

“Go warm up the car,” she mutters against the blonde’s lips, gently squeezing her waist before she detaches from Paige and starts to fix her dress, “I’mma just do a quick double check and then be out.”

“Yes your highness,” Paige teases with a slight roll of her eyes before she’s grabbing both her and Azzi’s packed overnight bags and heading towards the car.  

Azzi smiles as she watches her go. As much as they joked about not going at all, both of them loved spending Christmas with their families, especially considering how the Fudds, Bueckers and everything in between had melded into one big one. Despite the fact that living in the DMV now meant that they saw at least someone in their family once a week, the idea of having everyone under the same roof was still thrilling nonetheless. 

Life had a funny way of working out. The plan had been set in motion since Azzi had been drafted to DC and although Paige had been tempted to stay in Minnesota -after all being the hometown hero picked with the no.1 pick had served her and the. team well for her first four rookie years, considering she’d helped them return to their former championship glory- they had ultimately decided that with most of their family in the DMV area, it made more sense for Paige to ask for a trade to DC than it did for Azzi to move to Minnesota. It hadn’t been the smoothest transition -they’d had their fair share of fights while making the decision and then adjusting to it- but they’d figure it out. They always did. Because as good as Paige and Azzi were at fighting with each other, they were even better at fighting for each other. 

Quickly going through the to-do-list in her brain, Azzi nods to herself as she silently checks off everything. She does a quick glance of her room, making sure that they’re not leaving anything they’d need, before reaching to grab her phone, just to text her parents that they were on their own way. Instead her eyes catch on an email notification, her heart beating erratically when she reads the name of the sender. 

Fingers fidgeting with the heart necklace Paige had gotten her years ago, Azzi slowly clicks on the notification as anticipation burns throughout her whole body. She tries to steady her breathing as she scans through it, reading each line carefully and she almost drops her phone, large hot tears dripping down her cheeks as she reaches the end of it. Her chest feels heavy with an unknown feeling and she knows she needs to get to Paige, but her feet are rooted to their spot. 

“Baby,” she hears her wife call out, followed by the sound of Paige’s footsteps climbing up the stairs, “you ready yet? The car’s already- oh my god baby what’s wrong?”

Azzi looks up from her phone to find Paige standing in the doorway. Concern floods the older woman’s sharp features as she rushes over to her, hands running all over Azzi’s body as she tries to figure out what’s wrong. 

“Az? Baby? What’s going on? What happened,” Paige asks urgently, “baby please you’re scaring me. What’s wrong,” her eyes drop to the phone in Azzi’s hands as her voice gets desperate, “did someone say something? Do I need to go kill somebody? Fuck baby please don’t cry. Tell me what’s wrong? I swear I’ll fix it but you gotta tell me baby. Please.”

Wordlessly, Azzi hands over her phone. Paige’s expression is confused and apprehensive -maybe even a little preemptively angry- as she takes the device from her wife’s hand. Azzi watches as recognition dawn of the blonde’s face when she spots the familiar e-mail address; watches as her wife goes through the same emotions she had reading through the email. When Paige finally looks back at her, her own eyes are brimming with tears. 

“Baby,” she says breathlessly, “this- I- we-,” she chokes back a sob, her voice so quiet in comparison to the loud enigma that is Paige Bueckers-Fudd, “we’re gonna be Moms?”

Azzi nods, tears continuing to spill down her cheeks as she finally manages to open her mouth, “yeah- yeah we are. Paige, we’re gonna have a baby. No two,” she corrects herself, remembering the exact words of the e-mail, “we’re gonna have two babies. Twins.”

And it’s unclear who moves first -it doesn’t really matter- but then they’re in each other’s arms, trying to hold each other as tightly as physically possible as their tears and smiles begin to blend into one. It had been a couple of months since they’d started the adoption process and they’d gone through every stage, slightly scared that something would go wrong. But they’d passed every background and family and personality check rather easily and it was this last part, the wait to hear about a child -well children- that needed them that had been the hardest of it. And now here it was, the last brushstroke that would complete the picture they’d started painting when they were fifteen. Two babies that would complete them. 

“You’re gonna be such a good Mom,” Paige mutters against Azzi’s hair, “god Azzi, baby I can’t wait to see you with our babies -fuck- our babies. Fuck baby I don’t know what you got me but I’m afraid it’s gonna have to be second best Christmas present I’m getting this year. 

Azzi laughs breathlessly, her face still buried in Paige’s neck, “think it’s gonna be the best Christmas present ever,” she slowly lifts her head so she can brush away the tears from under her wife’s eyes, “I love you. I wouldn’t wanna do this with anyone but you.”

Paige presses her lips against Azzi’s forehead, “me too baby. I love you so fucking much. You, me and our babies. It’s all I’m ever gonna want, all I’m ever gonna need.”

5. All I want (for Christmas is you) 

There’s a lot going on in her house right now -the chatter of family and friends mingling with the sounds of Christmas Carols blaring from the speakers, the mixed aroma of a well-cooked meal and freshly baked desserts, the twinkly lights strung all around the house blinking in different colors- but Paige’s entire attention is across the room where both of her two children are hanging off of her wife like baubles on a Christmas tree. Miles is situated on her lap, his head buried in his favorite place, between Azzi’s neck and shoulder. Sienna, always slightly more independent, has one hand wrapped around her mother’s ankle while she sits on the floor, her focus squarely on a princess coloring book. It’s a sight that will never stop making Paige’s heart swell with pride and happiness, her wife with their kids. 

Slowly excusing herself from the conversation she’d been having with a relative, Paige makes her way over to her family -to her whole world- with a soft smile on her face. She sits down next to her wife, placing a kiss to her temple that makes Azzi smile, before pressing one to her son’s forehead over the younger woman’s shoulder, before finally picking her daughter off the floor onto her lap and giving Sienna a kiss on her cheek. 

“Hi family,” she whispers and she thinks that if she could choose to have one picture ingrained in her mind forever, it would be a picture of the three smiles she gets in return. Miles’s is sleepy yet so sincere, Sienna’s is toothy and wide and Azzi’s- we’ll Azzi’s exactly like it’s been since they were fifteen. It’s her Paige smile, one that is bright and beautiful and magnificent and filled with the promise of i’ll love you forever. 

“Mama look,” Sienna coos, shoving her picture in front of Paige’s face, “I color a p-incess.”

“It’s beautiful Si-Si,” Paige says warmly, “I think it should probably go on the fridge once everybody’s gone home yeah?”

Azzi snorts, her voice dropping so only her wife can hear, “baby, I don’t think there’s any more space left on the fridge considering you’ve been putting up every single thing they’ve ever colored or made.”

“I’ll make space,” Paige says haughtily, “everything they make is fridge-worthy.”

Azzi shakes her head fondly but Paige knows that despite her words, she’ll be right there by her side tonight to help her make space on their rather cluttered fridge so that they could hang Sienna’s new masterpiece somewhere on it. 

“Mi’s close to falling asleep,” Azzi gestures to the little boy in her arms who’s clearly struggling to keep his eyes open, “I think we should probably let them open their Christmas Eve presents now.”

Despite Azzi trying to keep her tone to a whisper, Sienna’s ears perk up at the word “present” and she turns on Paige’s lap to face her Moms with large, hopeful eyes, “it’s pwesent time?”

“Yeah sweetheart. It's present time, but only one okay?” Paige taps Sienna’s nose gently, laughing when the little girl nods diligently and then squeals with excitement, rushing off of her mother’s lap so she can tell anyone within earshot that it’s time to open presents. 

“I was gonna tell you to get everybody but I think she’s got it. She’s got your vocal chords for sure,” Azzi nudges Paige’s shoulder teasingly before coaxing Miles’ head out her neck, “you ready to open a present Mi?”

Miles yawns and Paige can’t help but coo at how cute he looks as he stretches in his mother’s arms. It fascinates her, how despite being twins, Miles and Sienna sometimes feel like they’re years apart. And she knows they're only 3 years old, and she knows that they’ll both change over time but Paige thinks that the difference in their personalities makes them fit together even more beautifully. Sienna had a protective streak, always ready to shield her demure brother and Miles had a knack from calming Sienna down, always ready to comfort his boisterous sister. 

“MI,” Sienna yells as she tugs on her twin brother’s arm, having somehow already gathered their family into the living room, “wake up Mi. Time to open a Ch-istmas Eve pwesent.”

“I coming Si-Si,” Miles says softly as he finally waddles off of Azzi’s lap, tiredly rubbing his eyes as he follows his sister towards the barrage of Christmas presents underneath the tree. Their mothers scooch off of the couch to stand closer to the tree, Paige wrapping her arms around Azzi from behind as she hooks her chin over her wife’s shoulder. 

“Alright Si-Si,” Tim says, his eyes twinkling as he looks down at his granddaughter, “remember, you should always pick the biggest present to open on Christmas Eve!”

Sienna’s eyes widen as she takes in her grandfather’s words before her gaze drifts towards the presents, scouting for the biggest one of them all. Paige drinks in the joy on her daughter’s face when she finally spots a large box that might just be taller than she is. 

“That one!” Sienna says gleefully as she practically climbs over the rest of the gifts to get to her chosen one. 

“Careful sweetheart,” Azzi calls out, her voice laced with hints of worry as she watches her daughter try to pick up the present that’s clearly heavier than she is. 

“Uncle Drew,” Sienna croaks out, turning to Paige’s brother as she realizes just how big the present she’d chosen is, “help me pease!”

Drew laughs, wading through the sea of presents to get to his niece as he sedulously sits down to help her unwrap the gift. Paige tightens her grip around Azzi in anticipation as she watches for her daughter’s reaction. The twins are old enough this year to really understand their gifts and even though Paige is sure she knows them well enough -they’re her babies for fuck’s sake- to have gotten them present they’d love, she’s still a little scared they wouldn’t.

“Relax baby,” Azzi leans her head back to whisper into the blonde’s ear, having noticed the way Paige is fidgeting with the sleeve of the brunette’s sweater, “she’s gonna love it. She’s our daughter. We know her.”

Paige presses a delicate kiss against the back of her wife’s neck, “you always say the right thing.”

“Because I know you,” Azzi says softly, eyes crinkling in the corner as she smiles at Paige.

They’re broken out of their reverie by their daughter screaming in excitement as she finally uncovers her present -a barbie basketball court-, and just like Azzi had predicted she would, she says, “I love it, I love it, I love it. Thank you Mama, thank you Mommy!”

Paige and Azzi laugh, opening their arms in tandem for Sienna to rush into, “we’re glad you like it Si-Si.”

“I love it,” Sienna corrects as she gives each of them a sloppy kiss on the cheek. 

“My turn now?” a meek voice cuts and everyone's eyes fall onto Miles, who cowers slightly at having everyone’s attention. 

“Yeah it is,” Paige grins at her son, ticking him lightly in the stomach before pushing him towards the presents, “pick whichever one you want to open Mi.”

Miles chews at his bottom lip, cautiously observing the huge pile of presents before turning to his Mothers’ with a way expression and Paige has to hide her grin, knowing exactly what he’s about to ask. 

“Too many,” Miles says, bouncing nervously on his tiny little feet, “you help me pick pease Mama.”

Paige laughs as she gathers the little boy in her arms but not before she’s whispering in Azzi’s ear, “think he might be more indecisive than you baby,” which earns her a slight elbow to the stomach before she nods at her son, “of course I’ll help you pick sweetheart.”

She pretends to make a big show of searching for the right present, observing her son’s facial expression before she sees his eyes light up a little when she grabs a medium-size blue one. 

“Aha!” Paige yells triumphantly, causing all the adults in the room to snicker at her antiques, “think you should open this one Mi.”

Miles grins as he makes grabby hands towards the present in his mother’s hand. It takes him approximately four and a half seconds to rip off all the wrapping paper and his eyes marvel at the gift in his hands. 

“Teddy,” Miles says in awe as he clutches the cuddly stuffed toy to his chest. 

“Yeah it is baby,” Azzi nods as she kneels down next to the little boy, “here,” she points towards the blue heart on his chest, “how about you squeeze it?”

Miles does as he is told, squeezing the teddy-bear’s heart as tightly as he can and it starts to glow. Paige and Azzi’s voices ring out through the room, singing -slightly off-key- Miles’s favorite lullaby. The little boy’s eyes widen when he realizes the sound isn’t coming from his Mothers', both of whom have their mouths closed, but from the teddy-bear’s heart. 

“Now, whenever you’re scared at night in your big boy bed, you can just squeeze teddy and it’ll be like Mommy and Mama are already there with you,” Azzi says softly as she brushes her hands through her son’s hair, “you like it Mi?”

“I’m gonna call it MoMa,” Miles says in lieu of an answer as he beams up at Paige and Azzi, “like Mommy and Mama but MoMa.”

Paige laughs, her eyes suddenly starting to feel a little wet, as she wraps an arm around Azzi’s waist, watching her children fawn over the presents they’d just opened. There’s plenty more left and she’s excited to watch their reaction to opening the others but the first ones are always just a little more special. And whether it was giving Sienna a basketball court, or giving Miles a version of their voices, through these gifts they’d tried to give their children a part of themselves. 

“Hey,” Azzi snaps Paige out of her trance, her hand reaching down to intertwine with Paige’s as she begins to pull her away from their family, “come with me for a second.”

“Azzi Fudd,” Paige puts a dramatic hand to her chest, smirking as she follows her wife upstairs, “are you sneaking me into our bedroom to have a quickie? While our family and our children are right downstairs?”

Azzi  turns to her with a cheeky grin as they enter their bedroom, tracing a finger down Paige’s arm, “would you object if I was?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely not. Let’s do it,” Paige waggles her eyebrows, pulling Azzi into her chest but the younger woman immediately shrugs herself out of it as she goes into their closet instead, “oh okay then, leave me high and dry on fucking Christmas Eve.”

“Shut up,” Azzi chides, still rummaging through drawers before she finally emerges from the mahogany doors with a small silver box, walking back to Paige with a small smile on her face, “I figured you should get to open a present tonight too.”

“Well the present I was hoping to unwrap was you-” her joke is cut off by Azzi laughing. 

“Baby please, you are way too old to be saying that shit.”

“Hey,” Paige says with mock offense, “first of all, I’m not that old and second of all, you’re never too old to be flirting with your wife.”

“First of all, it’s okay that you’re old baby, I like them a little older,” Azzi smirks, “and second of all, you are if the flirting's that corny and third of all,” she gives Paige a pointed look when the other woman open her mouth to counter, “shut up and open your present.”

“Still so bossy aren’t you princess?” Paige shakes her head but she does as she told, delicately removing the lid from the box and gasping when she sees the necklace inside, “baby, it’s beautiful.”

The necklace is similar to the engagement ring she’d gotten for Azzi, not the one from the fair all those years ago, but the real one. It’s a simple enough chain with a heart shaped diamond-encrusted locket, except on either side of the heart, the chain is looped into two infinity symbols. 

“Open it,” Azzi says softly. 

“What?” Paige asks, still staring dazedly at the dainty jewelry in her hands. 

“The heart,” Azzi points to the locket, “it opens.”

Paige does as she’s told, delicately using her nails to pull apart the locket and a fresh set of tears brim in her eyes when she sees what��s inside. On one side of the heart is a picture of Miles and Sienna, the twins grinning at the camera and Paige remembers the exact moment she’d taken it. On the other side, is a picture of Paige and Azzi; specifically a picture of their kiss at their wedding. 

“Baby,” Paige says again, uncannily lost for words. 

“You’re really fucking hard to shop for you know that?” Azzi says slowly, her own eyes glistening with moisture  “like what do you even get someone who basically has everything because you know- like you always say- we’re your everything -all you could ever want is me, Miles and Sienna- and we’re already yours, just like you’re already ours. And so I figured I’d just give you a reminder of it, something you can always keep with you so you always know.” 

“It’s perfect,” Paige breathes out as she holds the locker out towards Azzi, “put it on me?”

Azzi grins as Paige turns around and the blonde watches through the mirror as the chain is placed carefully around her neck and her wife firmly clasps it together before placing a soft kiss to the back of her neck. 

“I love you,” Azzi whispers when Paige turns back around, “for eternity.”

“I love you,” Paige whispers back, pulling her wife flush against her chest, the locket with her world hanging between them, “to eternity and beyond.”

[rafedarling]

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝

pairing: husband!rafe cameron x wife!reader

summary: rafe cameron was your everything, your husband, the man who once promised to love and cherish you unconditionally. despite your inability to speak, rafe always treated you as though the world revolved around you. but your perfect life comes crashing down on an ordinary monday when you…

warning(s): reader in this fic are mute, so if you felt uncomfortable please click back, will see you on jan 9. infidelity, emotional distress, angst.

must read: italic mean sign language.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. i don’t know but this idea came up after i went to the toilet 🫠 i’m tagging no one since i’m writing this for fun and might deleted if i felt it’s needs to be remove and hope you enjoy!! 🌟 . taglist | ask

Just like any other Monday. You were sitting on the edge of your bed you reached for your phone to check the time. That’s when you saw it… a text message from an unknown number.

You hesitated, your thumb hovering over the notification. You weren’t one to invade someone’s privacy, even Rafe’s, but something about this felt… off. When you finally opened it, your entire world shattered.

The message began with ‘Hi, I’m Sofia. I didn’t want to do this, but I think you deserve to know.’

You froze, dread pooling in your stomach as you continued reading. Sofia laid everything out; dates, times, even explicit details. She wasn’t apologetic; her tone carried the confidence of someone who knew she had already won.

Sofia wasn’t just anyone.

She was the friend Rafe had introduced you to months ago, the one he’d reassured you was “just a friend.” She was gorgeous, effortlessly confident, and everything you weren’t.

Most painfully, she could speak.

The betrayal hit you like a tidal wave. You stared at your phone, your breath hitching your so tight you couldn’t even breath.

You wanted to scream, cry, or yell so badly but you couldn’t. That had always been your curse your inability to voice your pain.

Instead, you stormed downstairs, gripping your phone tightly. Rafe sat at the kitchen table, scrolling through his phone while sipping coffee, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside you.

When he saw you, his face lit up.

“Morning, babe,” he said casually, his tone warm and easy.

You didn’t respond. Instead, you slammed your phone onto the table, the screen still displaying Sofia’s message. His eyes flicked to the text, and the color drained from his face.

“What”

He reached for the phone, but you yanked it away, glaring at him as your hands began to move.

“Who is Sofia? And don’t you dare lie to me.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened. “Babe, it’s not”

“Don’t!” you signed sharply, your movements quick and angry.

“Do not call me that right now. Answer the question. Who is Sofia?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, his hand raking through his hair.

“She’s… She’s no one. She doesn’t mean anything.”

So you admit it happened.

“I—” He faltered, his eyes pleading.

“It was a mistake, okay? A stupid mistake. It didn’t mean anything.”

You stepped back, shaking your head as tears burned your eyes.

“How could you?” you signed, your movements slower now, weighed down by heartbreak.

“I trusted you. I loved you. Was that a mistake too?”

“No!”

Rafe’s voice cracked, and he took a step toward you, his hands reaching out as if to ground you.

“It wasn’t a mistake. You weren’t a mistake. I swear. You’re my everything.”

“Clearly not,” you signed, bitterness dripping from your fingers. If I was, you wouldn’t have done this.

He pressed his palms against his temples, exhaling shakily.

“I don’t know why I did it,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. ���I was stupid, I was feeling… I don’t know, lonely?”

“Lonely?” Your hands froze mid-motion, your eyes wide with disbelief.

“You think I don’t feel lonely? I live in silence, Rafe. Every day. And yet I stayed. I fought for us. But you…” You stopped, your chest heaving as fresh tears slid down your cheeks.

“I know,” he said, his voice breaking.

“I know, and I hate myself for it. You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve any of it.”

“Then why wasn’t I enough?” you signed, your movements trembling.

“What does she have that I don’t?”

Rafe looked devastated, his hands dropping to his sides.

“Nothing,” he said firmly.

“She doesn’t have anything you don’t. You’re everything to me.”

“Clearly not enough for you to keep your promises.”

He stepped closer, his voice urgent. “Please, don’t leave.”

You stared at him, your heart breaking into a million pieces. The Rafe standing before you now was a shadow of the man you thought you knew, and yet, his desperation was tangible. Part of you wanted to believe him, to cling to the love you’d shared for so long. But the pain was too raw, the betrayal too fresh.

You wiped your tears, turning toward the door.

“Wait,” Rafe called, his voice shaking as he followed you.

“Where are you going?”

You paused, turning to meet his tear-filled eyes. Your hands moved slowly, deliberately, as you signed one final word

“Away.”

“Don’t,” he begged, his voice breaking.

“Please, give me one last chance, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you how sorry I am.”

You didn’t respond. Instead, you opened the door and stepped out of the door, leaving Rafe behind.

But this time, love wasn’t enough.

And for the first time in years, the silence between you felt unbearable.

[musings-of-a-rose]

My First, My Last, My Always - a PedroStories Secret Santa Exchange Event

Pairing: Francisco “Frankie” Morales x f!reader

Word Count: 2751

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: @prolix-yuy My beloved LJ - when I got your name, I literally squeed! And then felt an immediate sense of “omg will I be able to write something worthy of her?” I thought and thought about what to write for you and then I had it. I have had this idea for a Frankie fic since I started posting back in late 2021, but I’d never written it. I even had a name for it and a plot line! Now I know it’s because I was saving it for you. Have a very happy whatever you celebrate and know that not only are you extremely talented, you are one of the nicest people I’ve had the pleasure of knowing.

**This is for the @pedrostories Secret Santa exchange event!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Frankie Morales Masterlist

I met Frankie when we were 5. I had just moved to the neighborhood, in the middle of summer. Which meant no school, so no way to make friends. A few days later, as my parents were unpacking, I sat on the couch, leaning on the back of it to stare out the front window. To my surprise, on the front porch of the house across the street from me sat a boy. He had his head in his hands and looked a little sad and lonely, his brown hair and loose curls sticking at odd angles, like he had woken up and come outside. 

“Mom, can I go say hi to the boy across the street?” I ask, already getting off the couch. 

My dad glances through the front window, seeing the boy on the steps. “Sure. See if he wants to play soccer.” He tosses me a soccer ball that he had just unpacked, which I miss. 

I grab it and head outside, walking straight towards the boy. He doesn’t seem to pay me any mind until I’m on his lawn. He looks up at me, furiously wiping at his eyes. 

“Hi!” I say, smiling at him. 

“H-hi,” he replies, his eyebrows furrowing together.

We sat there in silence for a few moments. “Do you want to play soccer?”

He sniffs. “Yeah, sure.” He stands, coming to meet me in his yard. We end up just kicking the ball back and forth for a minute. His shoulders are still slumped, like he’s carrying something heavy. I stop the ball with my foot, taking a step closer to him.

“Are you ok?” I ask, my face full of concern.

“ ‘m fine,” he mumbles. 

“It’s ok if you’re sad. I am too,” I confess. He looks at me, cocking his head.

“You’re sad?”

I nod. “Yeah. We just moved here. My dad got a new job. I had to leave my friends.”

He nods. “Sorry about your friends.”

I shrug. “Thanks. So are you ok?”

He looks at his house and then back at me, coming closer. “I don’t even know you.”

I tell him my name. “But call me Rea.”

“Frankie….my parents fight a lot. Sometimes it’s too loud. I come out here to get some quiet.”

“Oh. Well, if you want, you can come over to my house whenever you need to get away.”

His eyes widen, filling with a light I hadn’t seen yet. “I can? You mean it?”

I nod, a smile forming on my face. “Yeah! We can play games, my mom makes great snacks, and my dad is building me a treehouse soon!”

From that day on, Frankie and I were inseparable. We lucked out in being placed in the same classroom that fall, Frankie taking me on a tour of the school. He told me what bathrooms were stinky and what kids were mean. He came over pretty much every day, my parents taking an immediate liking to him when I came back home with him. I did overhear them saying something about that poor boy, but they never complained. Frankie was there for family game night, pizza night, and movie nights. My parents took him to the county fair with us, the zoo, and our weekly trips to the library, where I would get every book they had on drawing and Frankie would pick out books on flying. He once told me he wanted to be a pilot. 

Middle school is pretty much the first time we spent away from each other, since some of our classes were different. He took shop and I took art, trying to hone my skills as an artist as it brought me so much joy. I don’t know how I would’ve survived middle school without his presence, his strength to help me through a really rough transition time. He would claim it was all me supporting him, but I think we just work well together.

In 8th grade, Frankie came over for pizza night as usual, us heading out into our treehouse after to hangout and watch a movie on a tv I had carted up there with a long extension cord. It had a vhs player in it and so we would watch whatever we could rent. We settled down and got comfortable, a bowl of popcorn between us. 

“Hey, Rea?” Frankie looks nervous, not quite looking at me. 

“Yeah?” My words are garbled because of the popcorn in my mouth.

He clears his throat, still not looking at me. “Have you kissed anyone yet?”

I stop chewing. I had wondered if the boys talked like the girls, as that’s all they could talk about. Kissing boys. I hadn’t thought about it at all, until it felt like I was the only girl who hadn’t kissed anyone yet.

“Uh…no. You?” My stomach fluttered like it had butterflies in it and I didn’t know why. 

“N-no.” We sat there for a moment, the movie continuing on in the background. “Maybe we could kiss each other? So we could say we did it?”

My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest. I hadn’t felt like this before, other than the time Frankie took my hand at the fair and guided me through the haunted mansion that we’d been through a dozen times a few weeks back. 

“Oh. Uh, y-yeah.” 

Frankie sits up, finally looking at me. “You sure? I just thought since we knew each other it wouldn’t be weird.”

I sit up too. “Yeah. Makes sense.” 

After a few awkward body shifts, he pressed his lips to mine and the butterflies in my stomach went wild. And when he broke the kiss I’ll admit, I was more than a little sad. His face still close to mine, he gave me a small smile, those dimples on display.

“There. Now we’ve each kissed someone.”

I didn’t realize it at the time, but that first kiss was when things changed, I think. We started high school that next year, our schedules separating us further. Frankie joined ROTC (Reserve Officer’s Training Corps) and I joined the art club, my parents surprising me with private instruction from a local artist that I admired. We still saw each other at lunch, and he was still over at our house more often than not, these days more because of whomever his mom was currently dating. But everything felt…different. I brushed it off, not knowing how to put it into words.

Then, our senior year, Frankie came to me with another proposition. Neither of us had been intimate with someone else, and who better than someone we know and trust? The boys had been talking about it and the girls had definitely been talking about it. I wasn’t against the idea of sex. I just never got around to it. So when Frankie proposed the idea at our weekly movie after pizza night, I agreed, that familiar butterflies in my stomach feeling coming flooding back. 

In true Frankie fashion, he came prepared and had studied. He set up the treehouse with extra cushions and candles, putting flowers everywhere, with some music in the background. He already knew about protection and knew how to use it, shyly admitting he had asked his friend Santi how to put one on. Frankie was gentle with me, making sure I was ok as we both shared this experience. After, we laid together in the blankets, Frankie holding me to his side as his fingers traced the skin on my hip, both of us content to just be with the other. 

Things didn’t technically change between us, aside from another romp or 2 in the hay, so to speak. I didn’t understand why he never asked me out until a couple months later, when he told me he signed up for the army. 

“Go to college, Rea. Get that art degree and make millions off your drawings. You’re amazing.”

And while I shed many tears, I did just as he asked, even driving him to the airport on his way to basic, where he gently kissed me and told me to live my life, but don’t forget to write. 

I wrote to Frankie often, chronicling my college life as he told me about his, once his time in basic training was up. We still had weekly calls where I would tell him about my drawings, and he would tell me animatedly about learning to fly helicopters and also that his friend Santi was with him too. 

I was the first one he told about going for a special forces group, Delta Force, and his acceptance there. Santi’s too. Sometimes it would be a few weeks between us chatting, but I understood. He was dealing with literal life and death scenarios. Or at least preparing for them. 

I picked him up every time he came home from tour, sometimes with a girl on his arm. I’ll admit the first time I saw it, a part of me envisioned leaping on the poor girl and tearing her eyes out. But I had remind myself that he was overseas and I’m sure it gets lonely and I’m glad he had someone to comfort him, no matter how much I wished it was me. I dated too after that, the longest one sticking around for about 8 months before I caught him cheating on me with his secretary. Which is incredibly cliche of him. 

I eventually graduated with an art history degree, getting a job at a local art gallery and selling my own drawings on the side. It was a pretty awesome deal, getting to work and do the thing that I love. I sometimes worry it would end badly, mixing business with pleasure. But it ended up being the opposite. 

Frankie and I still talked, but over the years our calls became less and less frequent. Sometimes I was away on an art bid and other times he was on a mission, gone for weeks at a time. He would still check in from time to time to at least let me know he was alive. His absence left a hole in my heart though. He was my one constant through life, the person I could share anything with, my first for a lot of things. The few words we did exchange helped me to get to the next call, which I know is unhealthy, but not matter what I did, I couldn’t fill the void he left behind. 

Present Day

“Are you sure you’ll be ok?” My mom asks me for the millionth time. 

I chuckle into the phone. “YES mom. You guys won a cruise! Go celebrate Christmas on the high seas. I’ll come visit when you get back.”

“Well…if you’re sure. I- no! You will absolutely NOT be wearing a speedo on the cruise! Rea I have to go talk some sense into your father. We’ll call you when we get back.”

I laugh this time. “Have fun mom.” In the background before I hang up, I hear my father playfully yell. “Hey! Give me back my man panties!”

My laugh turns into a sigh as I look around my condo. I had been packing to head to my parent’s home in the morning to spend Christmas Day and a few days after with them. I unpack and head into the kitchen, pulling out a couple of steaks to rest before cooking them. I’ll make extra and then not have to cook on Christmas. Sounds like a plan to me. I make some hot chocolate and settle on my couch, a thick Christmas themed blanket thrown over my legs. I’m about to take a sip when I hear a knock at my door. I set my mug down and toss the blanket off. My neighbor is a little senile and sometimes locks herself out of her apartment. In one of her clear moments, she gave me a spare key to let her into hers, in case it was during a time when her nurse wasn’t around. I unlock the door and open it, her name poised on my lips. But instead I’m met with the biggest, brown puppy dog eyes that I’ve ever seen. 

“Hey, Rea. You’re home.”

Shocked. I am stunned. “I..y-yeah. So are you?” Nice. Good one. 

He smile, those dimples showing off as he rubs at the back of his head, the Standard Oil Heating cap I’d given him from our road trip across the state still on top. “Yeah.” It’s quiet for a moment. “Can I come in?”

“What? Oh. Yeah! Come in.” I step back to let him in, giving him extra space for the bag slung on his back. He sets it down just inside the door, kicking off his boots too. 

“Are you ok?” I ask him, noting the scar on the bridge of his nose and a fresh cut on his cheek. 

“I am now.” Silence between us, like we haven’t talked our entire lives. Although it had been a few months since I’d spoken to him, outside of my unanswered letters. 

“Did you want some-” I start, hitching my thumb over my shoulder to point towards the kitchen. 

“I almost died.”

A hole opened in my stomach and my heart fell right into it. “What?”

He nods, taking the cap from his head to wring it between his hands, but not before running his fingers through those soft brown curls. “I can’t give you details. Classified. But I almost died. I mean, I saved us all, but if I hadn’t moved my head…”

“Oh Frankie!” I throw my arms around him, the time that we hadn’t talked dissolving in an instant. His arms wrap around me, his face pressing into my hair. 

“I love you, Rea.”

“I love you too, Frankie.”

“No,” He takes a breath. “I’m in love with you.”

Those familiar butterflies that only he seems to put there come back, like they’d never left. I break the hug and take a step back, trying to look at his face. Surely he’s kidding right? This is all some joke that I don’t understand?

“We were spiraling and the engines wouldn’t cut back on and all I could think about was you. How I had this amazing friend in my life for most of my life who never judged me for where I came from or what I wore, who always supported me no matter what, who let me get pineapple on my pizza even though she hated it just because she knows I like it. She always saw me for me. And how I was so fucking stupid for never seeing it before and yet, somehow knowing I’ve been in love with you since that first kiss. I made a promise that if I got out of there alive, the first thing I’d do is come tell you, in person how I feel. And I know it’s sudden, and I know you may not even feel the same. Hell, I don’t know if you even have a boyfriend. I know I’ve been a shitty friend lately, but I-”

I grip his shirt and pull him to me, pressing my lips to his. For a moment, he doesn’t move, shocked by my reply. But then he snaps out of it, his hands coming up to cup my face as he presses his tongue against my lips. I part mine every slightly, whimpering slightly when he pushes his tongue past my lips. One hand drops from my face, outstretched behind me as he walks me backwards, his hand hitting the wall before he pushes me up against it, that same hand cupping my face again before tracing down my body to squeeze at my hip. I wrap my leg around him, pulling him closer as my fingers tangle in his soft curls. But then he pulls back, just enough to look me in the eyes. 

“I take it this means you feel the same?” He’s smiling, but he’s also serious. 

“I’ve been waiting for this since our first kiss. But I don’t think I understood it then.”

Frankie groans. “What a stupid couple of assholes.” We chuckle together, his nose brushing against mine. 

He smiles, his eyes getting that big puppy eye look to them. “So you’ll be my first and my last?”

I smile back. “As long as you’re mine.”

Within a few months, we’re married. Our first, our last, and our always.

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe

@greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @icanbeyourjedi  

@wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso  

@theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz 

@gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @booksarekindaneat @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox 

@amneris21 @gooddaykate @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed  

@ladykatakuri @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol  

@mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry 

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @heartpascalispunk 

[theminecraftbee]

so i've been seeing this occasionally in the tags lately and i thought i'd bring up:

if you want someone to click or reblog your fic link you cannot simply post a link to the fic with either no description or a single sentence of description. if you do not put something beyond a link and a sentence, no one is going to click it.

part of this is basic internet safety (don't click links if you don't know where they're supposed to go), but a large part of this is that you have to catch someone's attention to make them click and leave the page they're on! people, in general, aren't going to click a link that doesn't interest them. you should interest them! so, how do you do that?

put some kind of image above your link in your post. this is BY FAR the most certain way to get reblogs and catch people's eye, but it's also the most time-consuming if you aren't already good at edits or art yourself. moodboards, little edited headers, or gifs can help you here (depending on fandom). art you've made yourself or have permission to use is absolutely the best option here, but it's by far the most time-intensive and difficult. full disclosure: i don't do this! that's because i am absolutely pants as a visual artist, even in the realm of editing or selecting gifsets. but if you have this skill and are sad your fics aren't getting attention on tumblr, this could be a potential answer!

write a summary and some kind of note with the link. there's a slightly cluttered cheat way to do this later in the list, but personally i find that formatting your fic post yourself is the best way to make these posts look good. i normally go fic link (making sure the link embed has the title) - summary of fic beneath that in a blockquote - an author's note about what to expect beneath that summary. however, everyone has different standards for how to do this! some people i know like to make sure tags and rating are present; some do not. some put some of this information beneath a cut; some do not. the main key here is to make sure there's just enough information above the cut in the main post that if i, a stranger, am browsing the tag and find your fic, i have enough information to know if it's something i might be interested in! i can always click to see the ao3 tags if i am intrigued, so it doesn't need to be all the information. just enough to catch my eye!

just post the whole fic to tumblr, including a link at the top or bottom. this is the most efficient non-art way to get notes on a fic you post, since, unlike a link with a description, a tumblr user doesn't have to leave the website to read and decide if they're interested or like it enough to reblog. however, there are two downsides. the first is that the fic almost always has to be short (~2k words if you use a cut, less if you don't), since most tumblr users aren't using the website expecting to read a bunch. the second is that doing this will mean most of your fic's readers likely will read it from tumblr, rather than following the fic to ao3. which, you may not care! i certainly don't when it comes to the ficlets i write directly to tumblr. however, it means i really don't recommend doing this with a multichapter fic.

use ao3's share button to automatically make a tumblr post. fics on ao3 have a "share" button, located above the tags and summary. this has a tumblr option, which you can then use to automatically post the fic link to tumblr. this is a bit cluttered since it includes all of the tags from the fic, alongside the full summary, rating, wordcount, etc. personally, i would then edit a little to remove some of that information so that it's more eyecatching and less overwhelming, but if you don't want to, that's also fine! that is still almost always going to be better than posting the link by itself with a single sentence to describe it, and isn't half-bad formatting-wise.

finally, you'll note my posts for ongoing chapters aren't normally given this treatment or fandom tags (although i almost always include a summary of some kind on them). this is because i generally don't want people finding my fic for the first time from a random chapter in the middle. i don't mind if they do, but i'm not going to spam the tag and i'm not going to make THAT much of an effort to make the post appealing. new chapters are things that might tell one of my followers that there's an ongoing fic they should look out for, and tell my current readers and followers that there's, well, a new chapter, but generally they aren't going to hook people. however, if you post chapters a lot more infrequently than i do, or if you simply have the energy to, there's nothing stopping you from applying these to chapter posts as well!

the thing is: look, at the end of the day, i agree with people who say you should write for yourself. how many notes you get isn't a big deal, i promise; the most important feeling is, ultimately, the feeling you get when you finish something and know you made it with your own hands. some of my favorite writing achievements are NOT my most popular, but are my favorites for reasons entirely unrelated to popularity. however, i see a lot of writers bemoaning how badly their fic posts do, when their fic posts are the ao3 embed and a single sentence that reads "this is my new fic enjoy"; the thing is, there are things you can do to make that link into something that someone is more likely to read and/or reblog! (i know i personally don't like reblogging links if i don't know their contents for the aforementioned internet safety reasons.)

just because you write for yourself doesn't mean that you can't give yourself a little leg up in finding your audience. it's worth it both for yourself and your readers, i promise.

[kybercrystals94]

Of Scene Breaks and Plot Twists

Read here on Ao3!

Rated: G | Words: 2256 | Summary: The members of Clone Force 99 have an unwanted guest.

A/N: For Christmas, I wrote an entirely unserious, indulgent little fic because I can…so I did.

I am totally making fun of myself with this fic…apologies to the characters for not always (read: rarely) having a plan when I write.

I dedicate this story to every fanfic writer I know and don’t. May you never cease to amaze with your creativity and dedication to the art…you are a gift to the communities you partake in.

“Alright, boys, settle down,” Hunter says, walking into the cockpit. “We’ve got our next mission.”

“Do we actually get to blow something up this time?” Wrecker asks, sitting up in the seat he was slouching in.

Crosshair takes out his toothpick and flicks it at Wrecker, the sliver of wood bouncing harmlessly off the giant’s shoulder. “Or shoot something?”

“We have been on three consecutive data retrieval missions with no enemy engagement,” Tech states.

Echo points out, “Which is a good thing. It means we did our job well.”

“It means they were boring!” Wrecker declares.

Tech and Crosshair nod.

“I won’t promise anything,” Hunter says, grinning, “However, there is a high probability of explosions and shooting taking place this time around.”

The news receives reactive sounds of approval from most of the members of Clone Force 99. However, Echo isn’t fooling anyone with his eye roll. He’s been craving action as much as any of his brothers.

“So, what is it?” Echo asks.

“What’s what?” Hunter asks.

Echo frowns at him. “The mission?”

Hunter looks down at the data pad in his hand. “I…I don’t know. Nothing’s come through.”

“But you just said–”

“Sorry, sorry! That’s my fault,” I say, pushing myself up from the wall I was leaning against. “I’m sorta writing this as I go. I have no idea what your mission is yet. The keyword here is yet, because I’m sure it will come to me as we go.”

I’m honestly not sure what sort of reaction I expected, but five blasters pulled on me was not on the agenda. I put my hands up, heart battering in my throat. “Woah, woah, hey!” I cry, “Don’t shoot!”

“Who are you and how did you get on our ship?” Hunter growls, blaster still carefully poised to take me out if I make any wrong move.

I swallow. “I’m a fanfic writer. I’m the one writing this story.”

Oh. This is my story. Ha, sorta forgot that I can just…

The Batch lower their weapons with bewildered expressions, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

“What just happened?” Wrecker asks. “Why’d we all lower our blasters like that?”

“I told you, I’m writing this story. I’m a fanfic writer,” I say, and, bolstered by my own abilities, I walk over and take a seat in behind Tech, turning the chair to face my darling characters. Aww, they look so sweet when they’re confused.

“You’re using some sort of mind trick,” Tech tells me. “You’re a Force user.”

I laugh. “I wish, but no. I’m just a humble fanfic writer, I promise.”

“You obviously know we don’t understand what that means,” Hunter says, and he sounds so annoyed. A little Crosshair-like, if I’m being honest. “So explain it. Now.”

Bossy.

“Fine,” I sigh, reaching in my back pocket and pulling out my phone.

Tech’s eyes light up, and I can tell he wants to ask about it; however, a sharp look from Hunter makes him settle back in the pilot’s chair. I make a mental note to show it to him once I’ve calmed everybody down.

For the sake of my gentle reader, I won’t get into the vaguely detailed explanation I gave the boys. It did not go well, and nobody calmed down. After all, how do you explain that someone’s reality and existence is fictional in your reality…without giving them spoilers for their futures? Then you would have to get into fix-its and canon and head canon and all that complicated jargon. Suffice to say, I had to again utilize my writing power to make them sit down and shut up for two seconds while I assured them that their lives were very much “real”, and that I am just trying to share one of their stories with my world…and also that I am making it up on the fly.

“I would like to study these works of fiction,” Tech says.

I ensure my phone is locked and secured in my pocket. “Mmm…maybe later.”

“So, basically,” Crosshair says, and somehow he manages to sound genuine and sarcastic at the same time, “you are calling all the shots and we have no freewill.”

I guess it does sound bad when he puts it like that.

“How about a compromise,” I say, “I’ll let you boys ‘call the shots’, and I’ll just write it down…if you stop threatening to shoot me out of the airlock. Deal?”

They collectively look unimpressed.

I continue stubbornly, “I’m not going anywhere until I have my story. I’ve been suffering from writer’s block for weeks, and this is the first decent idea I’ve had.”

“Half-baked is more like,” Echo grumbles. “Kriffing idiot.”

“See?” I say, splaying a hand at the cyborg, “If I were controlling everything, would I be letting y’all verbally assault me?”

“Let me shoot you with a blaster, and I’ll be convinced,” Crosshair says with a menacing flash of teeth that I think might be some sort of smile.

Suppressing a shudder, I roll my eyes. “The sooner I finish this story, the sooner I’ll get out of here. Then I’ll never bother you again…”

…In person.

I love internal dialogue.

“Fine,” Hunter agrees after a long, long bout of silence. “What’s our mission then?”

Oh. Right. That’s what started this whole mess in the first place.

Scrambling to come up with something, I say, “Alright, you should have a mission on your data pad now.”

Hunter looks down at his device. “It just says data extraction mission from blank.”

“Hey!” Wrecker objects, loudly, “I thought there was gonna be explosions and shooting!”

Tech takes the data pad from Hunter. “Not to mention the parameters of the mission are unfathomably vague.”

“Alright, alright,” I say, putting up my hands. “How about now?”

“Dangerous data extraction mission from insert planet name here,” Tech reads aloud.

Echo groans. “You have to give us more than that!”

“I don’t usually have to come up with all the details.”

“You’ve given us literally nothing,” Crosshair says, “Less than nothing.”

“You are making it very difficult to believe that anyone reads your stories willingly,” Tech says.

I narrow my eyes.

**

“What just happened?” Hunter asks.

We are in hyperspace, coordinates safely secured in the nav computer, boys fully aware of the mission parameters.

My work here is done.

“That, my friends, is called a scene break,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “Now, tell me about this mission.”

“Why would we go over it again?” Crosshair asks, annoyed. “We’ve been arguing strategy for the past hour.”

“So I can write it down.”

“What do you mean so you can write it down? I thought that’s what you were doing!”

I shake my head. “No, see, that’s the point of a scene break. I can skip writing all the monotony and just give readers the jist of it. So, give me the summary of the mission and I’ll write down the important bits I care about.”

Echo gapes at me. “You mean to tell me you still don’t know what the mission is?”

“Which is why you’re going to tell me,” I tell him patiently.

The boys exchange glances. I can see in their microexpressions that they’ve come to some sort of agreement that I am not going to like. Now wait a minute…

“Don’t tell the writer anything, boys,” Hunter says, turning back to the nav computer. “They get to come along for the ride, just like they wanted.”

“You can’t do that!” I cry.

“We just did, di’kut.” Crosshair begins polishing his rifle, the item having appeared during the scene break. “We’re in charge now.”

“Can you at least tell me where we’re going,” I implore weakly.

“Classified,” Echo says.

“Is it still a data extraction mission?”

Tech has the audacity to shrug. He’s scrolling through my phone. How…when…?

“Hey, give that back,” I say, lunging forward to snatch it from him.

He evades me easily, and I go sprawling across the durasteel floor.

Rolling over, I glare up at the commandos grinning down at me. “I’m still the writer,” I say, “I can still do whatever I want and know whatever I want.”

“Then why don’t you do it?” Crosshair taunts.

I must not be completely over my writer’s block after all, because nothing comes to mind. Somehow, the characters are in charge. Kriff.

“Tech,” I say, returning to the topic of my phone, “you can’t be looking at that stuff.”

“These tags are concerning,” Tech mutters, continuing to scroll as if I hadn’t said anything. “Hurt forward slash comfort? Angst? Fluff? Whump? What do these mean? That is, what is the context?”

I hate to do it, but I use my writing ability to put the phone back in my hands before Tech hurts himself emotionally. “Some things are better left unknown, Tech.”

“I swear,” Crosshair growls, “if any of those fanfics are sappy, I will shoot you out the airlock. I don’t care about our ‘deal’.”

“I’m not the only fanfic writer, okay? There are thousands of us.”

“Sounds like a nasty infestation,” Echo says.

“I’ll have you know,” I tell him primly, “we are a lovely community.”

Wrecker, the sweet boy, offers to help me to my feet, putting a hand out. I grip it and he hauls me up a little too roughly, nearly dislocating my shoulder. I grin at him nonetheless. “Thanks, Wreck.”

“Sure thing, writer,” he tells me. He leans in. “In those fanfic thingies you write, do I get to blow stuff up a lot?”

“Uhm, well,” I say, sitting back down, “it depends on the purpose of fic, really.”

“Whadda you mean? Aren’t they all just missions you make up for us?”

Crosshair huffs. “Or pretend to make up?”

“Listen,” I say, leaning around Wrecker to glare at the sniper, “I have writer’s block. Most of the time I think of legitimate missions.”

“Oh, yeah? Name one.”

“Well, one time, you were on this planet getting intel and the building that Echo and Tech was in collapsed and the rest of you had to dig them out.”

“What planet was it?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“What was the intel?”

“Important.”

“So you just make whatever the kark you want up and people actually read it?” Echo asks.

Offended by the oversimplification of my work, I retort, “Well, I like to focus more on character development than missions. But that’s just me. Other writers are a heck of a lot better at writing mission stories.”

“Then how’d we get stuck with you?” Crosshair asks, throwing his wadded up polishing rag at me.

I wish I could say I caught it, but it hits me in the face.

“You know what,” I sputter, tossing the rag aside, “Scene…”

**

“...break.”

We are standing in the middle of a hall, surrounded on both sides by droids.

“Would you stop doing that?” Hunter shouts at me over the din of blasterfire.

I crouch down next to Tech at a control panel. “Hey, can I borrow one of your blasters?”

“Write yourself one,” he says, deadpan, keeping his focus on hacking into the Separatist system.

“It doesn’t work like that.”

Tech rolls his eyes and passes over one of his blasters. “Please take care not to shoot one of us.”

“I think I can handle it.”

I cannot handle it. My first shot goes wide and high, taking out a light in the ceiling. Before I can try again, someone snatches the blaster out of my hand.

“Give me that before you hurt yourself.” It’s Echo.

“If that’s a legitimate risk, let them keep it,” Crosshair calls out.

“Aw, don’t hurt yourself, little writer person,” Wrecker says, scooping me up under one arm, “I’ll protect ya!”

I kick my legs and flail my arms, dangling haplessly in his grip. “Put me down!”

“Not until we’re out of here,” Hunter orders.

Fine then.

**

We’re back on the Marauder. The boys’ dark armor is covered in spatters of dried mud, and the right lens of Tech’s goggles has a crack in it.

“What happened to you?” I ask, sitting comfortably in the pilot’s chair, unscathed.

“You’d know if you stuck around to find out,” Crosshair growls.

“Apparently, I was just in the way back there. So I skipped ahead.”

“You’ve been in the way this whole time,” Hunter mutters.

Oh. Those are fighting words.

I smile, and I hope it appears as devilish as I feel. “Plot twist.”

**

I’m not sure what the creature is, but it’s ugly. It’s covered in some sort of goo and it smells putrid.

And it’s gnawing on the Marauder. Don’t worry, it doesn’t have teeth, so the ship won’t be damaged, but it will leave a residue that probably won’t be fun to scrub off later.

“What in the universe is that?” Wrecker asks.

We’ve moved outside of the ship, and we’ve discovered that the creature simply absorbs blaster bolts and is completely unfazed. The boys will have to distract it somehow, lure it away.

How inconvenient.

“This was uncalled for,” Tech says, turning to glare at me.

“Did you see it coming?” I ask. When I am not dignified with a response from any of them, I add, “Plot twist successful.”

“How are we supposed to get rid of it?” Echo asks.

I shrug. “Maybe you boys will figure it out by the next chapter.”

“Wait, what do you mean ‘next chapter’?”

“And this is what we writers like to call,” I say, smiling sweetly, “a cliffhanger.”

TBC

A/N: Will I ever actually finish this fic?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

‘Tis the nature of fanfic, isn’t it? ;D

Let me know if you’d like to be added to my Tag List!

Tag List: @arctrooper69 @ezras-left-thumb @maeashryver @baddest-batchers @laughhardrunfastbekindsblog @omegafett99 @heidnspeak @fionas-frenzy @dreamsight73 @royallykt @blackseafoam @illogicaalbraindump @skellymom

[perseephoneee]

scarf [ficmas day 15] [isaac lahey x f!reader]

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ ficmas 2024

anon: Hiya! Can you write something for your Ficmas 2024 with Isaac and a scarf? (I know it's so obviously choice 😆) I will be very grateful. @mayfieldss : For ficmas you KNOW I have to ask for scarf with isaac lahey! I love you, you're the best. 💓

author's note: merry christmas you guys <3 i can't believe we finished this challenge (by we I mean me i was burned out at the end). every fic i wrote i was excited to share with you guys, and truly i am so thankful for every single person who reads these. i love writing, and i love writing knowing i'm improving someones day.

i'd love to hear what everyone is excited for this holiday season, feel free to drop an ask in my inbox or message me personally <3 love y'all

playlist:

buy me presents -- sabrina carpenter

cold december night -- michael buble

christmas song -- phoebe bridgers

Isaac always wore a scarf because despite it being in the seventies constantly in Beacon Hills, CA, it was his Mom’s and he liked to remember her. This sentimental fact did nothing to stop theo ther boys from relentlessly teasing him. Because men are idiots. 

You witnessed it firsthand very often. 

“I can’t take you seriously when you wear that,” Stiles shook his head, stabbing his fork into the cafeteria’s excuse for a salad. Isaac just flipped him off. Lunch was often like this. 

“It’s in style,” Lydia defended Isaac. 

“But with the leather jacket?” Stiles waved at Isaac’s outfit. “It’s like if a grandmother joined a biker gang.”

“This isn’t very Christmas spirit of us,” you chided. You had brought lunch from home and were not sad about missing out on today’s lunch specials. Stiles stole a carrot from you in protest. 

“How much do you want to bet that Christmas will be ruined by something supernatural-related?” Stiles asked. You hit him with the back of your hand. 

“Why must you be like this?”

“I didn’t get enough attention growing up,” Stiles smiled at you before swiping more food from your plate. 

“I also didn’t get attention,” Isaac added. “Because I was–”

“Locked in a freezer, yes, we know,” Stiles sighed. “Still milking that?”

“Yeah, still milking that.”

“Very cute; your sadness goes with your scarf.”

You were about to yell at Stiles again when the bell rang. You gave Isaac an apologetic glance but he just smiled. He was a good sport, and could handle Stiles teasing. You don’t know how he managed to keep such a cool head with everything in his life. 

You both shared the next class together, U.S. History and debated asking him. You sat together near the back of the classroom. As it was the last day before winter break, your teacher was playing a movie. A teacher’s cop-out to an actual lesson plan. You couldn’t disagree with your logic. 

You ended up at the table first, like you always did. You were pulling out your journal and pens when Isaac finally came in, sitting next to you. You felt your heart skip a beat as he smiled at you. Neither of you got to say anything as your teacher started class, droning on about the ‘importance’ of the movie and whatever. You were a good student, but you did not care enough to listen to this spiel. Isaac agreed. 

“I just want to go home already,” Isaac rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat. 

“Me too,” you sighed, scribbling in your notebook. You doodled when you were bored. “Although I need to stop by the archives first.”

“Archives? Why?” Isaac asked, sitting back up. His knee bumped yours, but he didn’t pull away. You didn’t want him to. 

“Just doing some research on whoever is committing human sacrifices,” you whispered. Your pack’s latest problem. You wondered if you would ever get a break from the supernatural. You also wondered if you even wanted to. 

“It’s the holidays, take a break.”

“This thing won’t take a break.”

“You’re too good,” Isaac muttered. He said it the way someone comments on an art piece, with reverence and understanding. “I’m going with you then.”

“Isaac, it’s going to be boring.”

“So’s sitting at home,” Isaac took one of your pens, flipping it between his fingers. His fingers were nice and long, and you looked away before any unwanted thoughts came into your head. “Besides, I like hanging out with you.”

Sometimes Isaac said things like that, and you wondered if maybe he liked you the way you liked him. How could you not like him? You liked him before he was a werewolf and was just the quiet, lanky boy in your class. You liked him after he turned and started hanging out with your friends. He was always kind to you and always remembered the things you said when no one else did. You hoped that maybe one day he might feel the same. You weren’t always so sure. 

“Okay,” you whispered back, a small smile on your lips. He grinned. He took your journal from you and put it in the middle of the desk so you could both doodle. You drew a whale. He drew an elephant. You drew a gecko. He drew Stiles being electrocuted. You took the pen out of his hand. He wrapped his own around yours to take it back. Sometimes, you really hated him. 

The end of class came sooner than you imagined. You and Isaac decided that the rest of the school day was stupid (you both had two periods left, and both were filler classes), so you decided to skip out. You had driven to school in your parent’s hand-me-down Honda and decided to head out to the Beacon Hills library where the archives were. You weren’t sure if you were going to find anything, but you thought maybe you’d try. Sometimes, the best answers lay in the past. 

You regretted bringing Isaac to the library about twenty minutes into being there. He was all anxious energy, as you researched. He asked you a ton of questions, moved around, and overall was a distraction. It didn’t help that he took off his scarf and jacket, so he was just in a t-shirt. A t-shirt that had shrunk in the wash and, therefore, hugged his body a little too well. The urge to climb in his lap and make out with him right then was overwhelming. You started thinking about things like the Vietnam War and statistics to quell your lust. 

While you didn’t find anything in the archives, you did find some books on the history of human sacrifices and another on pack dynamics that you thought might be interesting. You checked both out and ignored the look of the librarian as she read the titles. Isaac stifled his laughter. 

You were about to ask Isaac if he wanted to grab some coffee before going home (any chance to prolong your time with him), but the question caught in your throat as you regaled who was leaning against your car. 

Ethan and Aiden were waiting for you both, or maybe just Isaac. You were never sure how much of a priority you were to your enemies. You assumed you were low on the totem pole. 

“Lahey,” Ethan called out, stepping out of your car. Isaac gently pushed you behind him. 

“Ladies,” Isaac grinned. “What can we do for you today?”

The twins bristled. “In the spirit of Christmas, we wanted to give back to the people who got us where we are today,” Aiden drawled. Your blood chilled at the connotations. “You destroyed our ride; we destroy yours.”

You very much did not like this idea. 

“This isn’t my car, sorry,” Isaac shrugged. 

“It’s hers,” Ethan pointed to you. You wanted to yell at him, but Isaac refused to let you come out of behind him. “And she’s important to you, so we thought it would be the same thing.”

You would’ve spent more time pondering that comment if Aidan hadn’t proceeded to smash in your windows. You yelled at them, your voice carrying across the parking lot. Isaac growled, rushing forward and pushing Aidan away. Both twins laughed like this was a joke to them. You were in disbelief and anger over the state of your car and knew you couldn’t afford to fix it, especially with extra expenses around the holiday season. You also were angry that these three idiots were having a fight out in the library parking lot. 

“Hey!” you yelled, attempting to get them to break it up. Shockingly, Isaac was holding his own against the alpha twins. Unfortunately, he was still losing. Ethan grabbed the scarf from his neck, dangling it in front of him. You cried out as Ethan ripped it in half. This was only going to end badly, you knew that. Especially as Isaac turned right after, with the twins following. 

You were no match for three werewolves; you were barely a match for a full-grown human man. But you needed to get Isaac out of here before people started noticing and before he got himself killed. You rushed to your car, avoiding the glass and looking in your center console. You found what you were looking for. You gathered up your courage and rushed back to the twins. You sprayed the pepper spray at Aidan and blew your air horn at the same time. All three covered their ears in pain while Aidan cried out about his eyes. You felt smug satisfaction. That was for my car, you asshole, you thought. 

“You three need to knock it the fuck off,” you growled out. They all turned to look at you, resembling wounded puppies. “You’re acting like children and, in the process, damaging Isaac’s property and my property.”

Ethan had the audacity to look slightly ashamed. 

“No wonder you guys were omegas,” you seethed. “You act like bitches.”

You grabbed Isaac’s arm, pulling him away from them. You had no idea where you were going; you just wanted to get away from the parking lot until they were gone. You decided to drag him behind the library. You leaned against the back wall while he paced around. 

“I’m sorry about your car,” Isaac cursed. He still hadn’t turned back, his voice raspy. You shook your head. 

“Not your fault,” you picked at the threads on your sweater. “I’ll figure it out.”

“It’s bullshit,” Isaac growled, kicking at the sidewalk. You let him work through it. 

“I’m sorry about your scarf,” you said earnestly. He was still breathing heavily. 

“If I wasn’t a fuck up, if I hadn’t harassed them, this wouldn’t have happened.”

Your heart broke at his harsh language. You walked over to him, blocking his pacing. He was forced to look at you, golden eyes and all. 

“You are not a fuck up, okay?” He tried to look away, but you grabbed his hand, pulling him back. “You are wonderful, and knowing you have been a gift. You are not responsible for their behavior. You are responsible for your own.” You reached a hand up to smooth the space between his brows, his wolf side subsiding. “You are worth it.”

You watched the gold fade from his eyes, the blue returning. It looked like the sun hiding behind the ocean. You didn’t break eye contact; even if it made you feel uncomfortable, you held on. You needed him to see you were serious. Isaac brought his hand to your face, thumb tracing over the apples of your cheeks. You shuddered at his touch. 

“You’re beautiful when you’re angry,” he murmured. You choked on your words. He cradled his face with both of his hands, kissing your forehead. Your breath was shallow as he kissed your eyelids, the tip of your nose, and finally, your lips. You opened your mouth to his, already desperate to have him in every way. He was gentle with his kisses as if you were a treasure he didn’t want to break. He licked your teeth, and you felt your breath hitch. You sighed when he applied more pressure. Your lips followed after his when he pulled away. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed as he chuckled. 

“I really enjoyed that,” you hiccuped. Isaac brushed your hair back, hands drifting down your arms to your waist. 

“Me too,” Isaac grinned, kissing your cheek. “We should do it more often.”

“I don’t usually put out on the first date.”

“Hey, I’m not that easy,” Isaac raised a brow, and you laughed. “But I think we can arrange something like that.”

You managed to get a vacuum from the library, citing ‘vandals’ as your reason for needing it. They were very polite as you and Isaac cleaned up the stray glass and taped trash bags over the windows so you could drive home. You told your parents the same reason, and they fortunately didn’t blame you. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be upset because all you could think about was your kiss with Isaac. You called Lydia to tell her the news and to tattle on her boyfriend. She was elated that you guys finally did it (“Allison and I had a pool on who would make the first move”) and aggravated with Aidan. You hoped that she yelled at him. 

Isaac texted you at the end of the night that he was going to take you out the next day. You agonized over what to wear (you settled for something nice but still casual). He ended up taking you to a double screening of “Die Hard” and “Scrooged.” You ended up making out in the back of the theater. 

You had dates throughout the rest of the week. You had no idea how to define your relationship (there had been nothing official yet), and you were too afraid to ask. You wanted to be his; you felt like his. You knew there would be no one else for you. 

Isaac invited you over for Christmas dinner. Your parents were heading out to a dinner party and were fine with it. You knew Stiles and Sheriff Stilinski would also be in attendance. You felt welcome into a family you weren’t 100% sure was yours. 

You arrived at 6pm on the dot, wearing a maroon red dress with tights. Isaac answered the door in a dark button-up you haven’t seen on him before. 

“Merry Christmas,” you smiled. He leaned down, kissing you. You had to pull away before you made out on the McCall’s porch. “Can’t keep your hands to yourself, huh?”

“Not when you’re dressed like that,” Isaac looked you up and down. You scoffed, but your heated cheeks betrayed you. Isaac let you in the front door and to the living room where everyone was. Melissa and Noah were preparing dinner while Scott and Stiles drank Martinelli in the main room. They greeted you upon entering. You handed them both their gifts. 

“I can’t believe you and Isaac are dating,” Stiles scoffed, unwrapping your gift by tearing through the paper. “He doesn’t have enough class to keep a girl like you.”

You waited with bated breath to see if Isaac denied the dating claim, but he just wrapped his arm around you instead. 

“Pot calling the kettle black,” Isaac coughed. Stiles glared at him. 

“That analogy would require me to have Lydia, which I don’t.”

“Shocker,” Isaac raised his brows. You elbowed him. Stiles laughed when he saw the collectors editions of Sherlock Holmes you got him. You sat down on the ground next to him so he could give you a hug. 

“You’re so good with gifts,” Scott whistled as he beheld the jacket you thrifted for him. 

“It’s my superpower. You guys are werewolves, I’m actually Santa,” you grinned. Isaac sat down next to you. 

“I didn’t know Santa was hot.”

“I have to keep my identity a secret, or I’ll never get any work done,” you responded. Isaac smiled, leaning in and kissing your cheek. Stiles made gagging noises. 

“I hate seeing you happy.” You and Scott both hit Stiles at the same time. “I was kidding.” 

You pulled out your gift for Isaac, handing it to him. Instead of unwrapping it, he grabbed your hand pulling you up. 

“We’re going to exchange gifts elsewhere,” Isaac announced. “My Christmas gift to you is not kissing her in front of you guys.”

“You’re so gracious,” Stiles mumbled. 

“Happy for you, man,” Scott was too busy trying on his jacket to look at you guys. You hid your face in your hands as Isaac dragged you towards his room. You hadn’t been in it before and already had butterflies in your stomach when he closed the door behind you. 

“Did you have to say that?”

“I speak only truth,” Isaac said. “Plus, I do really want to kiss you.”

He didn’t give you time to explore his space before his lips were on yours. You grabbed his waist as he cupped your cheeks, backing you up slowly. Your knees hit the bed as his lips trailed from yours to your neck. You moaned as he nipped your pulse point. 

“Isaac,” you breathed, attempting to push him away. You would let him divest you of your clothing if it was any other day, but today, you were cognisant of his family downstairs. 

“I just like kissing my girlfriend,” he sighed, pulling back to look at you. “Is that a crime?”

“I’m your girlfriend?” you asked, voice small. His gaze softened. 

“Yeah, if that’s okay…”

“It’s perfect,” you beamed, kissing his cheek. “Now, open your gift before we get too distracted.”

Isaac grumbled as he pulled away from you but grabbed the gift that had been discarded when he started kissing you. You hid your smile as he unwrapped it. Unlike Stiles, he spent a little more time being delicate with it. His breath caught as he saw what it was. He sat down on the edge of the bed, putting the box in his lap as he unfurled a darker blue cashmere scarf. You sat next to him as he caressed the material. 

“I know it’s not your Mom’s,” you murmured. “But I thought it would look nice on you.”

“It’s perfect,” Isaac sighed, folding it nicely and setting it aside. “You’re perfect.”

He kissed you again, this time gentler but no less passionate. He imbued every word that wasn’t created into that kiss until you felt your head spinning, and you thought you might fall over into the abyss with him. He pulled away with difficulty. 

“I do have a gift for you,” Isaac said, hesitation in his voice. He pulled something out of his pocket, putting it in your hands. You opened them to see the car keys. You looked up in disbelief. 

“Before you ask, no, I did not buy you a car,” Isaac held up his hands in defense. “I can’t afford that. However, I found out that Derek was attempting to get rid of one of his older cars because he had a ton for some reason, and I offered to do maintenance around the apartment complex for three months in exchange for the vehicle. Plus, after I told him it was Aidan who destroyed it, he was pretty amicable.”

Tears pricked your eyes as you beheld your kind boyfriend, who had gone out of his way to replace something and, in exchange, became beholden to someone else again. You didn’t have words for the love fueling you right now. You just pulled him close, clutching him in a hug that almost knocked him over. You breathed in his sweet scent, holding him close. 

“You are amazing,” you grinned, pulling away. “Thank you, Isaac.”

His cheeks turned a cute shade of pink as if he had no idea how to process your love. He looked down at your entwined hands, hiding a smile. You bit your lip.

“I could think of one more Christmas gift I could give you,” you whispered, hand trailing up his thigh. “If you’re up for it.”

Isaac looked up at you immediately, his breath catching as you traced over his jawline to his collarbone. 

“Yes, I think I’d like that gift,” he grinned, pushing you farther back on the bed and kissing you. 

He was the best Christmas gift you had ever received, and you wouldn’t trade him for the world. 

taglist: @alice3612 @rafecameronswhore @evasmlp

[stupidlittlespirit]

OKAY BUT SCP FOUNDATION FORD. I feel like young Ford would be absolutely GIDDY to join an organization that he thinks shares his world views and mission- scientifically classifying and studying anomalies. But he would absolutely get fired for being WAY too fucking weird about like everything. He gets too personally invested and obsessed for their liking imo.

I can also see young Ford being weird about anomalous people, who he'd identify with. That's like a thesis in itself, really.

Either way, Ford would get fired and then have a lifelong grudge against them lol

Old Ford would get fired for his general "I know more than you" vibe and be convinced that they fired him out of insecurity.

Dying to hear what head cannons you have for SCP Foundation and Ford 💞

Okay so I have spent way too long thinking about this because I actually wanted to write a fic about it and I’m very devoted to the whole concept in general, so this all applies to the Ford-SCP AU I have in my brain.

I’m so fond of the series. I was often on /x/ as a kid (not the rest of 4chan because, duh) and I would spend hours on it, reading up on greentexts and believing every single fucking word. I desperately wanted to work for the shadowy American governmental orgs that kept these creatures in containment/a secret, and I was devastated when I grew up and found out that they weren’t real. (A part of me holds out hope that they are a real organisation but if America was covering shit up, we’d know because they fucking suck at keeping stuff on the DL).  

Anyway, let’s get into it, and remember that I’m playing fast and loose with everything SCP related because everything is canon and therefore nothing is canon! 

Below is everything from my AU ideas to Ford’s behaviour to fucking SCP/Ford ships because fuck it why not:

I think you’re right: young, starry eyed Ford would be psyched to get to see that kind of thing, but I do think that he’d be too focused on carving out his own path to allow himself to get wrapped up in the government’s red tape. It would be something he enthusiastically pencils into his diary and intends to follow up on, but never does because of how things unfold. 

Post-Portal Ford, however, is going to be The Guy for them. His personal intellect is attractive enough, but Ford has a lot of stuff going for him on top: he’s travelled interdimensionally, he’s spent time in places that would get even 05 Council Members to sit up and take notes, he’s had talks with beings that the Foundation would give their child’s left kidney to be privy to (not that they wouldn’t sell their kid for a bag of magic beans anyway but whatever) and he’s got more than enough knowledge to hit the ground running with minimal (perceived) liability for them. I mean, Bill alone has to be a Keter / Apollyon type object, surely? World ending scenario and all that. 

I think he would still be very personally invested and enthusiastic at that age, too. He would do better at trying to be aware of himself because he’s more conscious of being taken advantage of, but he wouldn’t be able to help himself when it came to just being a total nerd about it all. 

How does Ford get picked up by the Foundation?

He’d be recruited thanks to his extensive publishing on the weird and wonderful stuff within Gravity Falls (which at some point is also catergorised by the Foundation themselves) and his travels with Stan, and he would be head hunted to work for the Foundation. 

And he’d say no at first, because he’s not going to work for the government, what are you, insane?! He would want nothing to do with them, and Stan, equally, would be wary of them because nothing good ever comes from the Feds, right?  But the Foundation would be persistent and they’d give Ford appetising incentives (funding, support, tools etc) for his own research, so he’d eventually give them an inch because he'd grow to wonder what they might have on offer and they’d then introduce themselves. 

Ford would be wary but as we all know, he’s a curious cat and it doesn’t matter how many times he gets run over, he still wants to know what’s on the other side of the road even if it means weaving between cars with a blindfold on. 

Ford is obviously going to have a vested interest in the anomalies because of his own abnormalities, however I do think he’d be laughed at for even considering himself a ‘freak’ because… well…. Take a look at the guys we’re dealing with here and then say ‘having six fingers makes you weird’ with a straight face. 

Doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be empathised with by some of them, even by some of the staff, but some of the beings in the SCP universe are so extreme that having six fingers is an easily-overlookable trait. I mean, the reactions would range from “okay, and….?” to “good lord, get a grip, there are real problems out there in the world, man!” to “oh my god that’s cool, he’s just like me fr”. 

Ford would quickly learn that whatever research he’s done/is doing is really nothing in comparison to what the Foundation does. Not that his work is of less value or anything, just that the Foundation is so large and the breadth and scale of their work would be unbelievable to him. He’d still think he knew best in a lot of ways but he’d be willing to listen and learn from the researchers and scientists that he did admire.

However, Ford would definitely manage to piss off every other person on the site he gets contracted to LMAO. Except the scientists he respected, though perhaps even them sometimes. Oh, and the nicer/less serious D-Class personnel, because they’d often remind him of Stanley and he’d be rather grossed out by the process of sacrificing those lesser prisoners to creatures in the name of governmental gain, so he would make an effort to be patient with them where he can. 

Not to mention that he’d kick AWF if he found out how loosey goosey the regulations are around picking prisoners for testing…. We know the Foundation has a habit of taking anyone with a life sentence/death row conviction, but we also know that not every convict is guilty. On top of that, we know they’ll take literally anyone if they really need to get some tests done and they don’t really give a fuck what the D-Class has done. I mean, they’ll take civilians too, so. I don’t think Ford would be okay with that. 

If they’re actually just awful people then he’s not likely going to care as much of course, but sometimes I read/listen to reports with D-Class in them that have just sold drugs or something, and the researcher’s are like yeah fuck it put weed-dealer Greg in the box with the mutated crocodile made out of poisonous spikes and shake it really hard, it’ll be funny! I think that would upset Ford and he wouldn’t be afraid to kick off about it (after all, any of those D’s could have been his brother at one point, right?) 

Staff members:

In terms of working with specific staff members, he’s obviously not going to have much to do with MTF or even any of the agents etc, really. Not unless he would require specific information from them during a test or something. There could be crossover if he was to get pissed off at how poorly executed a field expedition went or something, but I expect that his main area of interaction would revolve around Researchers and Objects themselves. 

Let’s talk about my beloved Dr Bright. I think Ford would have a careful appreciation for Bright. As we know, Bright is a bit nuts. He’s very eccentric and volatile, but very intelligent and good at his job as well as being personally afflicted, what with his brother’s objecti-fication within the facility. Ford would recognise Bright’s appreciation for suicide (bless him, real recognises real) given all of his own personal issues and understand why Bright might be so difficult.  

I do, however, think Ford would also be exceptionally wary of Dr Bright, given the way he’s bound to SCP-963. If you don’t know, 963 is a medallion/necklace and if you wear it you’re immortal. However, it’s tied to Bright and if another person wears it, their mind is basically wiped and replaced with Dr Bright’s. So, it would be very close to possession and for Ford, that would be very triggering, I think. Ford would be amenable with Bright and even appreciative of his work, but he’d be too nervous about 963, even if the likelihood of him being made to wear it was low. 

Next up is another fav: Dr Alto Clef. Now, I think Ford would have a love-hate relationship with Clef. 

Clef is reeeeally smart and very talented. He’s also very eccentric and weird, and is also anomalous himself, so Ford can get behind that. But Clef is also a fucking nightmare. He lies and is gross and unethical (was an awful misogynist, but possibly isn’t anymore? Hard to know for sure because there’s a LOT of information out there and no hard canon), though I don’t think he’s an irredeemable guy. Most notably, Clef has what he refers to as a ‘deformity’. He underwent anomalous alterations that prevent his face from being photographed and gave him resistance to reality shifts. Clef is described in files but you just can’t ever see a photograph of his face.   

Though I think Ford would tire of Clef quite quickly, he’d be willing to give Clef more rope than Bright. I think Clef has a tendency to be kind of jammy and very funny, so I daresay Ford might be fonder of him than he’d let on and he wouldn’t feel as uncomfortable around him as he might with Bright’s 963 issue. Clef is also aroace! Yay!

Clef lies a lot though, so he might be more inclined to kick it with Stan than with Ford in terms of down time lol 

Onto Everett Mann. Dr Mann is said to have always felt like an outcast and he was also manipulated by an entity (Mr Lie) into doing something that put others at significant risk. I think he and Ford would have a kinship with that and they’d be friends. Technically, Clef killed Mann in one AU but whatever. No big deal. I think Mann is really funny and sweet, and he’d get on quite well with Ford. 

Honourable mentions for: 

Dr Elliott - known to be a too involved in the anomalies she works on and often gets fucked up by them because of it.  

Dr Glass, because obviously. We love Dr Glass in this house! I think Ford would always be wary around a psych professional but he’d be thrilled to hear about other SCP’s and understand their ways of thinking. I think Glass would also have a field day with Ford and he’d fill up at least 4 notebooks worth of psych-eval notes on him :) 

And there are more but there are SO many more that I can’t get all of them down here or I’ll be sitting at my PC forever. 

In terms of the actual anomalies that Ford becomes fond of:

Well, we have to start off with my absolute all-time favourite: SCP-507.

I highly recommend checking out Volgun’s video on him because it’s great. Frankly, all of Volgun’s videos are great if you’re interested in learning about SCP’s in a lore accurate way. 

SCP 507 is Ford’s special little guy. Ford LOVES him. Do I ship them? Kinda. That’s my business okay don’t judge me. 

In fact, I believe Ford likes him so strongly that I think when 507 requests a hug from personnel, following a traumatic shift, Ford is the one who grants it to him. I don’t care if the timelines don’t match up, I don’t care about anything that makes that impossible. I want 507 to get a hug and I think Ford gives great hugs. Ford would even volunteer to be his escort if he had the time to spare and I think he’d let 507 hang out in his lab sometimes. 

507 has always broken my heart because he’s so scared and so alone, and they won’t let him leave or really do much of anything. He really has nobody and he has 0 control over everything in his life, and I think that would resonate with Ford a lot. 

He’d be highly interested in SCP-2700 because it’s made by his All Time Fav hot scientist Nikola Tesla. While 2700 isn’t humanoid, I think Ford would be super geeked about it solely because it’s Tesla based haha.

I think Ford would also love SCP-1762 (aka ‘Where the dragons went’), too. I find 1762 to be a really sad story and I think others agree, and Ford would enjoy them. They’re cool (origami dragons fuck yeah) and cute, but also poignant. 

He’d be naturally curious about SCP-096 but obviously, due to its nature, would have to give up the ghost on that one. 

I think Stan would like SCP-1472 aka the Multiverse Strip Club. Naturally. He’d be at risk of wandering in but, respectfully, he ain’t going to Illinois. Not for all the strippers in the world. 

Like Researchers and other personnel, there are SO many SCP’s that I can’t even remember all of the ones I think would be most relevant/enjoyable for Ford so if you have something you think he’d like then please please hit me up because I’d love to talk about it with you!! 

Ultimately, I think Ford would do some great work and make friends with some of the more pleasant scientists, and he would really enjoy himself up until he stopped enjoying himself lol. I think he’d quickly realise how controlling the Foundation is and how they refuse to let anomalies be known to the public, rightly or wrongly, and Ford would refuse to play along with them. 

He’d be vocal about his disagreement with the treatment of some anomalies and with regard to the treatment of personnel, and he’d stand strongly against any corruption, which means he’d never see eye to eye with them. Many such cases, if you take the time to read the entries. 

So, they’d fire him or he’d walk out. You’d never know for sure because Ford would insist he left of his own accord and the Foundation would insist that they [REDACTED] so… It would be a mystery. 

And the Foundation would let him leave, by the way. Their knee jerk reaction would be to terminate him, of course, but he’d leave such an impression on some of the other scientists that they’d somehow manage to convince their higher-ups that Ford offered value that would be lost upon his death, so they should let him live and just try to monitor him instead. 

Ford, being Ford, would sniff out all the monitors every single time they tried to trace him and Stan (with his great knowledge of wire taps) would help him debug their house etc if they needed to. 

Eventually, the Foundation would say fuck it, this guy is annoying as fuck, and let Ford deal with his own containment specialisms while keeping a distant eye on him/Gravity Falls at large. 

….Can you tell this has been on my mind for a while? LMAO I’m so sorry this answer got sooooo out of hand but I love GF and SCP so much that I can’t help myself. I hope that as I get better at drawing I can make some crossover art for them because it would be too cute. Plus, like I said, I’m still considering writing this. I might make a reader one but also do a gen crossover because I think it would be a riot. 

If anyone else wants to make stuff on this then please do but pleeeeease tag me because I need to inject it straight into my veins. 

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Okay, I've Read Worm: A Retrospective Part 5: What Was I Fucking Surprised By?

So, as you may remember, I got into Worm thoroughly spoiled by the wiki and Wormblr and r/parahumans and r/Wormfanfic and actual Worm fanfic. I knew pretty much all the basic details of all the plot twists. And yet, of course, there are things I didn't expect, things the fandom or the wiki mislead me about, etc. Things I was surprised by.

So let's talk about a few:

Taylor Hebert: As I've said, I kind of worried, before reading Worm, that I'd find Taylor insufferable. The sort of character that tries to be a hero and then convinces themselves to do all sorts of bad stuff while telling themselves they're still a hero/good person/etc is hard to write well without being really unpleasant to read/watc/etc. Self-righteousness in general is hard to enjoy for me. Taylor, honestly, stops thinking of herself as a good person partway through the post-Levi period, in most ways, and she never gets self-righteous about it. So Taylor was much more sufferable than I thought. Which is good, because I would have dropped Worm like a hot potato if she'd been insufferable as the main POV.

Eidolon & The Endbringers: (Sounds like a band name). The whole 'you needed Worthy opponents' thing, and the way people talked about Eidolon (seriously, this fandom as a whole is hugely unfair to the guy, istg) really gave me the impression of like, this vainglorious piece of shit guy who wants adulation and doesn't care how he gets it. And like... I don't get that impression from his Interlude at all? He doesn't seem to give two shits about fame, just about knowing what he did mattered. And he knew that well before the Endbringers. Obviously, he subconsciously created them, and then [High Priest] got all goddamn malicious in his compliance but he's not the vainglorious asshole who charges off to face Scion in single combat or w/e the way the fanfiction gave me that impression. Also, like, maybe it's just me, but I define 'Worthy Opponent' as 'something the person could have a reasonable chance of defeating in a solo fight'. So for me, a worthy opponent would be a rowdy 12 year old with maybe a white belt in karate. the Endbringers are not solo-able opponents for Eidolon. So absolutely not doing what he actually wanted. I really think the fandom is unfairly hard on Eidolon.

Interlude 15.x: Look, at the risk of starting discourse - I'm sorry. I've read 15.x Backwards and forwards and there is just Nothing pointing towards rape in the text, even looking for it as I was. I really expected I'd see some line, some implication, some fucking hint and there's just... absolutely nothing. The text of Worm as written, whatever Wildbow claims he meant and whatever he did mean, does not support a rape interpretation of events. And that sure as fuck surprised me.

Extinction 8.6: The way people - and even some fics - talked about the scene where Amy messes with Taylor post-Leviathan made it sound like Amy straight up ripped off Taylor's mask or something extreme like that, and then Taylor sees unmasked Sophia while trying to run and hide after being unmasked. What we got was Amy being a bit of a bitch, deliberately refusing to answer a question Taylor asked because she knew not answering would upset the girl (not cool), Amy's bedside manner being shit, and Taylor's own paranoia (and the godawful choice of the heroes to handcuff her to the bed) filling in the blanks. And this absolutely tepid-ass shit is pointed to by people as proof that 'Amy was a bitch the whole time'.

The Leviathan Fight: It was a lot shorter than I expected. I enjoyed reading it in ways I was worried I wouldn't.

Cauldron: Now, here's the thing. Characters that do bad things, knowing they're bad, but in pursuit of a greater good? That shit is my goddamn jam. I fucking love characters like that. They're my catnip! And I went into Worm sympathetic as FUCK to Cauldron. and I come out of Worm going 'Jesus Christ what a bunch of fucking idjits!' Their shoestring illuminati was run by a bunch of teenagers who never grew up and a college student who's a worse control freak than Taylor. Their incompetence appears to be the whole point (until Wildbow's WoGs turned everything into Cauldron social engineering and he went out of his way to make a big thing about how Cauldron was totes necessary for making things better. Man just cannot shut up). They try for decades to put some final fight against Scion together, and they fail epicly. No groundwork, no real success, and they turned to ACCORD for their post-apocalyptic plans. And apparently had no plan for a mass Case-53 breakout/attack. Which is... sure a choice. Dumping the Case-53s the way they did. The choice of which Case 53s to dump (Sveta sure was a choice of who to just... let out into the world. Like, not an issue with her personally, but you don't release that kind of uncontrollable murder tentacle out into the world, maybe? Just maybe?). I went into Worm thinking I'd be on Cauldron's side, at least a little, and I came out just... god no, you people are stupid.

Amy's Birdcage Arc: I really thought we'd see more of Amy's time in the birdcage, but 16.z really was all we got.

Alexandria's Death: I don't quite know what I did expect, but I didn't expect Alexandria's death to be so goddamn Darwin-award worthy. The woman died like the biggest of CHUMPs and that was much funnier than I expected.

The Drugs are Fantastic line: I knew it was being taken out of context, but it wasn't quite in the place I expected, I'll be honest. Not sure what I did expect.

Taylor's Weaver Arc/The Timeskip: I expected... I dunno. Less of an abrupt transition, I guess? I thought the timeskip would be like, a series of small scenes skipping ahead over two years between them? Instead, right in the middle of Arc 25, it just jumps ahead two years without ceremony. Did not expect that. At all.

Slaughterhouse Nine: I was not prepared for just how goddamn boring the Nine were. I don't think I read any spoilers about how Jack Slash being boring af was the point until I'd already started the S9 arc, but I especially didn't expect how pathetically bland as characters Manny the Kinless and Burnscar and Crawler and Sibby the Friendly Neighborhood Cannibal would be. Cherish managed to be interesting by being such a failure, and Bonebitch, to my eterntal frustration, managed to be funny, but the rest? Also, I thought Manton would die in the Bay, rather than be killed unceremoniously offscreen while in Boston.

The Butcher: For a character who appears in all of two chapters, the Butcher has a much larger presence in the fandom. But that is Worm for you, because groups like the Elite and the Fallen also show up more in the fics than their presence in the main story merits (Though the Fallen have more of a presence in Ward, even if I gather Ward kinda sorta retcons like half the details or at least presents irreconcilable visions of the organization)

Empire 88: They were way out of focus, compared to how much they appear in fics. But it is fun in fics to see Nazis get beat up all the time, so this is valid. But also, like, even their post-Levi remnants were weaksauce af. Someone in a server the other day said that taking out Marquis took out an entire faction, and that Levi proved that taking out Kaiser (or Allfather before him) doesn't stop the Empire, gesturing to the Aryan's Chosen and the Pure as proof but like... lbr. Both groups were pretty damn pathetic in the post-Leviathan bay. Regardless, I expected to see more of the Nazis getting beat in Worm itself, and we really didn't. But this is one time where I don't care, because as I said, seeing Nazis get beaten up over and over again in the fanfic is fun.

Ward: I was worried reading and finishing Worm might make me want to read Ward. Thankfully, it did not. *whew*

Now, there are probably others, but nothing else as major. But there are also some things I just plain wasn't surprised by.

Amy Dallon: I went into Worm expecting her to be my blorbo, and that didn't change. She's definitely my character type. I feel the same about her storyline in Worm as I did going into it.

Tattlebitch: I expcted to hate her, and I stayed hating her. Lisa sucks. Like, she has her redeeming moments and features, but overall, I still hate Lisa.

Carol Dallon: My Sympathy for Carol remains about as theoretical as it always was.

The PRT/Protectorate: I suspected the PRT/Protectorate was not as useless and incompetent and ACAB as a lot of fics painted it and... I was right.

My Ultimate Opinion: I went into Worm thinking it wasn't really for me, but that I'd probably find it well written and that many characters would be engaging. I figured it would have massive gaping plot holes and that I would never find it to be the 'amazeballs perfect wonderful' that some people seem to find it. And yeah, I was right about that too.

[1shadowhole]

Since it's once again the 24th, here comes the annual reminder from me that Kingdom Come AKA the so called BBC MERLIN'S Canonical Season 6 is actually anything but canon and was made by fans.

BBC Merlin doesn't have a Season 6

And every year people tell me "I don't think that anyone actually believes that Kingdom Come is canon" and every year I cry because no, no a lot of people do. Maybe not on Tumblr but everywhere else you always see comment threads that go a little something like this:

"omg the ending was so sad why did the writers do that?😭😭"

"don't worry! The writers actually wrote the script for Season 6 that later got cancelled, but it's online you can read it!!"

"I DIDN'T KNOW THAT THANK YOU SO MUCH"

Ahhhhhhhh

And I also make these posts for all the new, wonderful fans that don't know the whole story, who may stumble upon the Kingdom Come blog and read "the canonical ending of the show" or whatever lie the people who made it wrote and believe it to be the case. Because why wouldn't you? It's says it is! BUT IT ISN'T!!

Why am I so pressed about it?

I mean I ain't going to lie the main reason is because I don't like it and think it is a great example of character assassination and disregard of what the original show wanted to share with the finale.

But I mean there are many fanfics (and kingdom come IS a fanfic) that I think are just as bad if not worse. Why don't I also complain about them? Because it isn't my place! I can criticise some tropes but you'll never see me directly attacking a specific fic by name! It's a story someone made for free just because they like writing.

But since these creators clearly believe that their work is somehow superior and has more value than other fics, I will treat it as such! And if you wanted it to be canon so bad I will criticise it like I do with the actual show. And trust me, as much as I adore BBC Merlin I am not blind to its flaws, and I am very critical about them on here.

So yeah. I think it sucks that a lot of fans believe that's the actual ending! Even if you liked it (and so didn't think that the show ended horribly with all its morals squashed) I don't think it's right that you fell for a lie. I had conversations with people who loved it and think of it as their personal season 6 while knowing it isn't canon. And that's wonderful! But you should know the truth.

So let me repeat this one last time

BBC Merlin has no canonical season 6

I feel like I was a lot harsher and aggressive this time around. I think it's because I lost a close family member just this month, and with Christmas so close my nerves are frayed.

But my goal is to make so many of these posts that when you look Kingdom Come up you find them before the actual blog lol. So anyone reading will know not to trust what the blog says.

And to make it clear. Hidden in their posts they do say it is fanmade. But you have to look for it, and if you just want to read you won't see it.

Plus the way they make it sound, the script they sent to BBC (btw... DON'T SEND YOUR FICS TO WRITERS FFS) was actually accepted lmao. And the only issue was the actors didn't want to come back.

Sure babe, sure. That's how shows work.

Damn I'm so salty today.

Again I wouldn't talk about other fics this way, I swear.

Now go read And like the cycle of the year we begin again. Or the Change Trilogy. Both very different, but very long and amazing possible Season 6s

[mymoshangthoughts]

i think i have the unpopular opinion that airplane is an egotist lol

i do enjoy reading fics where he's like "i dont deserve good things, this guy is way out of my league" and i do totally get where people are coming from when they characterize him that way but more and more lately im just like

"what about the comments?"

like i dont think that airplane has a SUPER high opinion of himself, but i think he's just kinda... confident? like when he reads fucking essays online about how his writing sucks he's able to laugh his ass off over it and even join in the fray. so i keep thinking rather than him being like "i dont deserve this nice thing", he'd more have a "SCORE! nice thing for me!! WHOO!" reaction. and when a bad thing happened, instead of being super "this is the saddest day of my life, someone was mean to me", he'd be more "omfg did you like fr waste your time being mean to me? thats actually pretty embarrassing for you lmfao, r u oki bro?"

like kinda that terminally online asshole internet troll of a person who just doesnt take shit seriously and has enough self esteem to just legitimately not give a fuck when someone is shitty

ofc it's different with demons who can literally skin him alive, theres a huge difference between someone saying "youre ugly" and someone breaking every bone in his body, so its not like he doesn't cower when necessary

but also inwardly he just has the confidence to not be effected much by cowering. like "lol imma hug this thigh bc i aint stupid but the fact that this asshole needs me to hug his thigh says a looottttt more about him than it says about me"

idk im just kinda wanting to see more unapologetically confident airplane who just does not give a fuck about anyones opinion so long as the opinion is coming from someone who cant actually fuck him over in a significant way. like sha hualing? obvs care about her opinion, she can gut him. some rando disciple? "lmfao out of my way loser, im gay"

also i kinda wanna see that confidence stripped away until he's a mewling mess but thats just my desire to break down confident characters and make them cry pfff

its so much funnier to me if airplane was actually a pretty impervious sort of person, it's only the extreme nature of his current situation that turned him into a crybaby lmfao

idk if im making sense, i just kinda think of airplane as being a hilarious mixture of "the most self assured guy you've ever met, to an obnoxious extent" and "wait does he have any self esteem at all?!? is he okay?!?" in a fun contradictory way, cuz thats the impression i got of him from canon

also modern au mobei jun getting Very upset bc it feels absolutely impossible to get under airplane's skin. like he's sitting here trying his best to get a reaction and airplane is just "lmfao yea but idgaf abt your opinion sooooooooo"

look, i also think it'd just be awesome if mobei jun is actually most attracted to the egotistical side of shang qinghua. like sure, he thinks that cowering sobbing pathetic hamster shang qinghua is delicious, but give him shang qinghua cackling arrogantly at his detractors with the air of an emperor? mobei jun might actually faint with desire

so like, mobei jun visiting an ding peak so much initially because shang qinghua is sus as fuck and all that jazz, but eventually he's sneaking in as often as possible so that he gets to peak that side of shang qinghua.

like he first notices it when shang qinghua is too absorbed in his paperwork to remember there's a demon lord casually napping on his bed and starts making fun of the lousy penmanship, his fellow disciples, other peak lords, no one is except from his sharp mocking tongue and laughing criticism. but he notices it more and more

someone comes to qinghua's door to throw their weight around? sure, qinghua acts all small and harmless with them there but when they leave, he's cackling about "annndd that pathetic loser thinks that no one knows abt his porn stache, pssshhh, get on my level pleb. especially with your frankly boring as fuck tastes" and qinghua has a dirty sense of humor too and it's sort of driving mobei jun insane

so maybe sometimes he shows up at the peak without announcing his presence, trying to peak what sort of shit that shang qinghua might say about him behind his back and mmaaaayyybbe mobei jun is a bit excited at the prospect and disappointed when it's difficult to hear his name on shang qinghua's tongue

until one glorious day when his timing is just right and shang qinghua is neck deep in the middle of northern desert paperwork and he lets loose and mobei jun isnt sure whats worse: the things that shang qinghua's biting insults are doing to him or how, in stark comparison to the way that shang qinghua insults to others, all of shang qinghua's insults are accompanied by dirty commentary about mobei jun's body and potential sexual prowess in a quite positive light. normally shang qinghua is all "lmfao mr. never-gonna-get-fucked qi-ge is gonna tell me what to do? tough shit my lil bitch, i might be your daddy but i know the full depth of malicious compliance! go back to your brat-kink with jiu-whatever. you might as well be dickless for all the success you've had, mr. virgin mcbitch" but with mobei jun it's a lot more like "oh so mr. sexier than the fucking literal god of this world could have imagined in his dirtiest dreams wants this paperwork by next week? unreasonable brat, so spoiled, i should spoil him, he'd look reeeeaallly hot when spoiled absolutely rotten beneath me hehehh wait above me? hm, anyway, he's being a little bitch but i'll forgive it for that face but also man i wanna just pinch those fucking cheeks sometimes and then--man i bet he'd be really fucking wild in the sack to and--"

absolutely charmed by the display, mobei jun immediately reveals himself and beats shang qinghua senseless as a very clear indication of his intentions. to his absolute dismay, he never hears shang qinghua insulting him again and he doubles the beatings in desperation to somehow get shang qinghua's attention

(shang qinghua does not, in fact, have any actual bad blood against his zhangmen-shixiong, he just has a bad habit of going for the throat when he's in the middle of a tirade bc he was once an internet troll who shamelessly thrived on the anonymity of being able to say anything to anyone. he just really likes to talk shit and if he was in a position of power, would absolutely abuse it to talk shit alllll the time lmfao)

anyway i got pretty off topic bUT MY POINT IS that shang qinghua is best (imho) when he is a shameless egotistical shit-talker who's more or less impervious to the criticism of others

((man just fucking IMAGINE mobei jun's reaction when the ascension ceremony happens? like he FINALLY gets shang qinghua to talk shit to his face no less and then IMMEDIATELY gets abandoned. and like, it was kinda Really Bad Timing and also mobei jun never really wanted to just be a passive participant! he wanted to retort back! he wanted a back and forth! he wanted to refute shang qinghua's claims that he was spoiled just as much as he wanted to hear those claims! he wants the push and pull!!!! SO WHY IS SHANG QINGHUA RUNNING AWAY THAT FUCKING TEASE?!?!))

also as a general note i do think that shang qinghua's whole impervious thing is prolly routed in a lot of the trauma of being unwanted by family and all of that stuff, there was no one around to build his ego up so he built it up all on his own and he's really fucking good at building things up

[artemisprince006]

Just going to preface this by saying this is me going on a rant. I just saw something that bothered me and I need to get my thoughts out on the matter.

I recently saw a post criticizing fanfic writers for writing Christmas fics about ancient Chinese characters. Basically saying that instead of learning about the culture and writing something true to the characters culture we are spreading our Christian infested thoughts (my words not theirs, but the crux of the post).

First off, it is not a novel concept that fic writers like to combine two things they enjoy. So if someone wants to combine these two topics, what is the big deal? No it’s not a Chinese holiday, but I think we all need to remember that fic writers are doing this in their spare time - we don’t have hours to research all the nuances of certain cultures or maybe some just aren’t comfortable writing about another culture that isn’t their own.

Furthermore, if you are upset about Christmas fics with ancient Chinese characters, what about Halloween fics? What about Hanukkah fics? Shouldn’t these also be deemed unacceptable? Or if it’s the Christianity aspect that’s the problem, what about Lord of the Rings AUs (Tolkien incorporated his faith into his novels)? Or Twilight AUs (with morman views)? Are all of these also unacceptable?? It just boggles my mind why people can’t let others enjoy themselves. This is a hobby. We do it for fun. If writing a Christmas fic makes someone happy, let them do it! Don’t read it if you don’t like it. Why is it so wrong for someone to combine two things they love?

Also, just because people celebrate Christmas does not mean they are Christians. I am an atheist and because of religious trauma in my past I despise Christianity (I am aware not all of it is bad and it is something I need to work on but it has left a permanent sourness inside me). To me, Christmas isn’t about religion. It’s about being with family and friends and simply enjoying time with each other and the traditions we share. If I want to spread that Christmas cheer by writing a fic with my two gay idiots, so what? If you want a more accurate interpretation of Chinese themes, then write that fic!! I’d love to read it and learn more about Chinese traditions.

With that being said, in no way am I trying to demean other holidays or cultures that don’t celebrate Christmas. As a writer, one of the biggest tips is to write what you know. I know Christmas and maybe I wanted to share those cozy Christmas vibes with others. If it’s not for you, don’t read it. Block me. Do what you got to do, but don’t rain on someone’s parade for simply writing about two things they enjoy. Again, I have nothing against other cultures or holidays. In fact, if you celebrate a different holiday, tell me about it in the comments! I’d love to hear about it.

Regardless of what you celebrate, I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday season!

And fic writers! Keep writing~

[physalian]

Seen a couple varieties of post on here in the realm of “nobody owes you fic comments” and… actually?

Some of the reasoning was like “you aren’t entitled to praise” or “maybe nobody commented because it’s bad and it helps you write better” which is… you’re supposed to interpret my silence as constructive criticism is not great. Or, the big one, “write for yourself”.

Cool.

First of all, nobody "owes" you fic comments? I'm sorry, is this a new bitcoin I haven't heard of? Is there a bank collecting interest on fic comments? Do you have a strict budget of commentability? Ffs you should want to comment and show that you like something, you gatekeepy cynic.

I write plenty for myself. If I choose to post what that writing is online, I am doing so because I am seeking engagement. Every fic out there is posted under the presumption that the writer wants feedback, otherwise you could easily disable comments, likes, kudos, and shares. Even if somebody in the notes says “y’all don’t have to read this I’m just archiving it”

… Do you really believe they mean that and wouldn’t be excited that somebody gave kudos anyway? Have you ever met people?

Saying this because writing is supposed to be fun. I love writing for myself, but the moment I decide to share it with others, the whole of my enjoyment of my craft is split right down the middle, 50% ‘I’m happy with this’ and 50% ‘are you happy with this?’.

If I’m not getting feedback, I will keep it to myself. Time is the one thing you can’t get back and if I get a more positive and healthy experience just keeping shit to myself and not risking silence from the void, then I’ll do that, and you won’t get fic. Not here holding fic hostage or anything, but if I’ve only got 8 hours out of my week to write and one private WIP makes me happy while one pubic WIP is just a reminder that no one likes it… I’m going to put the effort into the private one, the one that’s written for me.

Now I’ve never largely participated in fandom in the first place and am utterly shocked whenever anything I write for older fandoms gets engagement and I’m not posting with the mindset of “if this doesn’t get 5 kudos fuck ‘em” it’s a subconscious thing.

It’s a “Imma try this out. Oh, ok, well posting online feels no different than keeping it to myself and in fact the act of getting nowhere makes me feel a little worse, so never mind let’s take that down and go back into the safe space of a private Word doc.”

The act and love of writing is not intrinsically tied to the approval of our readers. The act of sharing our writing is.

Especially with fanfic: fic is designed for sharing, it's the act of showing love and support over a beloved story.

And this weird idea of “only good fics get kudos” is like… babe, people gotta start somewhere. I’ll read a lot of “bad writing” that has a good idea just executed poorly and still have something positive to say. It’s not hard. Being nice takes, like, 5 seconds.

Tap the kudos, send the bare minimum of a heart emoji through the comment, hit submit, and go about your day. You’re not out here rewarding “bad fic” with attention. We can all tell which fics are of higher quality and one little comment isn’t going to turn a bad writer into an egomaniac. You aren't rewarding bad writing, you're telling a hopeful writer "I see you over there standing awkwardly in the corner, here come join the rest of us, it's okay, we're here to have fun".

All of this shit is free. They write for free, your account is free, kindness is free.

So be kind.

[scoops404]

Scoops' Fics of 2024

It's that time of year again! The time for me to rank my own fics for the last year in order from my least favorite to most favorite. I only considered fics I wrote entirely myself, so you won't see an honest living in here because that was almost 50/50 written with Dizzy! (but you should definitely go check it out!)

This year I only had two novel length fics because I was supposed to be focusing on original work (oops). I had a heck of a summer with my bingo fills. There's definitely recency bias at play here, but that's just how it goes sometimes. Let me know if you agree/disagree :D

See the Elephant - T - this one was written for a fic fest that ended up getting canceled because of the grituation. I had already written the entire thing and it had to be T because the artists were going to post their work. If I had known it would be canceled, I would have had them doing the freaknasty. This was after I had already planned out and written a fic before new boundaries dropped in November (see Circling Back). Basically, this fic fest was never meant to be, I suppose. I was starting to think I was a curse. Oh, but the fic itself is a soulmate AU and kinda angsty and has a hospital scene. 0 horse mentions.

Merry Men Making Merry - T - This was written for Fairy Tales from the SMP - the first and only successful fanfiction event I've completed all the way through (it's never me dropping out btw, it's always the event getting canceled). Anyway I got my first choice of fairy tale, which was Robin Hood, and I put a fun spin on it. The art with this fic was gorgeous!! A very different type of fic for me and it stretched some writing muscles I didn't know I had. Secret identity and identity reveal, some of my favorite tropes. 4 horse mentions.

Move to Florida, buy the car you want - E - the first of my bingo fics. It turns out I am bad at being brief. Anyway, DNF get together and semi-roadhead and I dunno, it's cute. I wrote most of this fic free hand in my note book at my work desk because fuck capitalism. I just checked, the prompt was "late night care rides" which checks out. 0 horse mentions

Someone told me there's no such thing as bad thoughts (croptop) - E - this is the one from the middle of June about crop tops that was also written for bingo. I dunno. It's cute enough. 0 horse mentions.

Everyone understands why it’s mean to be (a/b/o phone call) - T - this one is funny because I didn't even bother saying what the prompt was in the author's notes, but I think it was a/b/o. This one was fun to write because it was basically a nod to the 2021 fandom and where we were, and where DNF were -- waiting on that damn visa. Like going back in time and writing a fic. 1 horse mention.

Can I Use You Up - E - I really had fun writing this one. It has fun Dreateam dynamics and then a really intense sex scene and the dichotomy of both of those things in one fic -- and short (for me), at that! impressive. 0 horse mentions.

Circling Back - E - this fic is fun and wild. I got to write co-workers to lovers that is also hidden/secret identity -- and it works! WILD! I re-read this one recently and it stands up. This was originally written for that first fic fest i was talking about and when they changed it for the new boundaries for art, I couldn't have any smut and the whole plot kind of hinged around the smut, so... I decided to just write it as it is. ALSO this is the first fic that Chelsey beta'd, I think. So that's fun! And it was the first fic of the year (not counting Hits Different which wrapped up in January). 0 horse mentions.

Just to do experiments on - E - Yall, if you had told me that I would write tentacle porn, I would have laughed at you. Extra has been trying to get me to write tentacles for YEARS and then it came up on my bingo card and I felt like I finally had to bite the bullet and do it. Except, I actually really love how it turned out? This bingo prompt was tentacles, obviously, but also cursed by a witch. A twofer, if you will. 0 horse mentions.

Let Me Familiarize You - E - here's some Scoops lore. I wrote this fic in two sitting and it is 13K, so that's wild!!! It took me two days in the time after my surgery but before I could go back to work to write this (in between writing the beginnings of Two Fools and another story that I haven't and won't publish lol). Anyway, it's about witch!George accidentally making Patches his familiar and then coming clean to Dream and also his mom is there. And then literally that same day, George dropped a video with his mom. Crazy pants. (or maybe it was the day before when this was all written? Can't remember. Also I was on pain pills). I really like how it turned out. It's a fun premise! 0 horse mentions.

Puzzle pieces in the dead of night - T - another bingo fic, the prompt was pirates. Anyway, I had a BLAST writing this one. Secret identity, kidnapping, munchy mc dynamics, I really like writing action adventurey fics and this one feel right into that category. A fun read, in my opinion. 0 horse mentions.

I’m Having His Baby (No, I’m Not) - E - a bingo fic, the prompt was "mpreg, but abortion" because the person who made the boards *ahem* doesn't like pregnancy stuff and wanted to punish me (lightheartedly lol). Anyway, joke is on her, because I made this into an epic story and I had so much fun writing it. Like, laughing out loud to myself while writing it, which is kinda sad, but is also the point of fanfiction. You have to entertain yourself first and foremost. And also I snuck eventual mpreg in there anyway so haha! for real, though, if you think the premise of this one is weird -- Dream and George accompany Sapnap on a roadtrip to Colorado to get his abortion -- you should try it out anyway. 1 horse mention, and arguably the one that brought it to our good anon's attention.

Anagnorisis - E - speaking of mpreg, LMAOOOOOO. My "I didn't know I was pregnant" AU with Angst and miscommunication and domesticity and last minute flights to London and a baby named after the lead singer of Glass Animals. This fic has a lot! I wrote a lot about the beginning of this fic on Tumblr and kind of how I begin writing fics. Here Anyway, pretty proud of this fic. I had to ask my mom a lot of questions about NICU. 3 horse mentions.

I Am Two Fools - E - every year the last novel length fic of the year seems to be in the top spot. No Exception this year. This fic was very tough to write, but very rewarding. I think it taught me a lot about making sure character motivations are fleshed out and make sense. It, and Anagnorisis, taught me about trusting the reader and dropping hints at things. Yall got So Good at catching hints and making molehills out of anthills, as intended. I took a chance and switched up POV halfway through, which is almost never do. And I think that really helped me stretch my writing muscles as well as all the bingo fics. Very proud of the work I did on this fic. 0 horse mentions.

[the-tmnt-ficfinder]

Christmas kindness letter

To Remedyturtles AKA Remrose,

I’ve read a good chunk of your fics. Probably just about all of them. And what constantly amazes me is your way to just… draw me INTO the story and leave me literally unable to put it down. What’s especially funny about that is how you write a lot of Leo-centric things, and my favourite turtle is Donnie. Leo is my second favourite, though. But I didn’t think I’d ever be so captivated by the stories you tell about him, especially with how heavy with the angst they get.

The first longer fic of yours I read was Stare Directly at the Sun. Which I read in pretty much one sitting. I don’t even know why I clicked on it— considering, as I said, Donnie is my favorite, and I actually do not care for human AUs. Somehow, this one drew me in and locked me there. I loved it. 

And Firefight? That took over my LIFE. I powered through it, literally spent HOURS just sitting on the couch reading it (and even reading it outside on a nice day). I joined while it was incomplete, and read what was there in only a few days. Then, I read every subsequent chapter as soon as I could. It was a legit highlight of my day, something I looked forward to, and I was hooked so bad like you wouldn’t believe. It was sad to see it end, but what a beautiful journey it WAS. I love love loved it, especially how long you took to focus on the healing of Leo and Donnie… they went through hell, indeed, and managed to come out the other side stronger. Even Leo, who scared the SHIT out of me for so long. But I’ll cut myself off, here. I could go on FOREVER about Firefight, you have no idea. I’ve been meaning to read this one again, actually. I need to.

The last fic I want to highlight, of yours, is actually one I don’t see talked about much: Take One For the Team. That one. That one. It was haunting. It was sickening./pos It was gripping. I could. not. put. it down. It was horrific to watch Leo go through that, to watch him deteriorate, and even though you didn’t detail his… extracurricular, I felt violated along with him, simply because of how he reacted to it, and how you wrote him processing (or failing to process) it. Slash pos. Seriously. This one. THIS ONE. I guess it isn’t talked about much because it’s a very sensitive topic, but if people can read it, they should. Holy shit, incredible.

I’m not sure what makes your writing so captivating. Maybe it’s how you write the characters. Maybe it’s your style. Maybe it’s both. Maybe it’s something else. I don’t know. But it’s easy to get lost in, and so easy to get attached, to CARE, and to feel along with these characters. Reading your stories is like sitting in the passenger’s seat of a friend’s car on a long road trip. You experience everything together, and, to me, it feels pretty damn special. 

Anyways. I’ve prattled on enough. If you’ve got more gems planned, I’ll be happy to read them (in the meanwhile, I have on my list to read Little Kid With a Big Death Wish because I HAVE NOT READ THAT YET I have TOO MANY FICS TO READ/lh it’s on the list tho).

Have a very Merry Christmas!! :D

@remedyturtles

Christmas Kindness Event Post

[queenaeducan-writes]

2024 writing round up

i saw it on my dash and wanted to do it! tagging: @blackjackkent, @theshirallen, @dreadfutures, @theluckywizard, @ anyone else who would care to do this!

words posted: Not counting Tumblr RP or I'd be here forever, 76,581. 35,245 of those were Var Shiral'vhen.

additional words written: 21,585 on VS, plus some other WIPs means I have typed about 33,109 words. There are more in my notebook (but probably not a significant amount).

grand total of words: About 109,690 words! <3

fandoms: Dragon Age, HotD, BG3

highest kudos: 187 on The Queen's Pleasure, making it the first fic I ever posted to break 100 kudos.

highest hit oneshot: 2667 on The Queen's Pleasure.

new things I tried:

New fandoms! BG3 got me back into writing for fun before DA reassumed its throne, and I published HotD for the first time, too!

Smut! I published five smut fics on AO3, one on Tumblr, and another that will probably not make it out of the docs I'm gonna be real.

Long fic! Technically I've tried before, but writing Var Shiral'vhen with @theshirallen has been a pretty new experience as someone who mostly writes oneshots. It's been fun, though!

fic I spent the most time on: Var Shiral'vhen on the basis of it being a long fic. For one shots, probably The means by which art is made due it being my first attempt at Solian smut and that ship being very dear to me (and it was originally started back in like 2022).

fic I spent the least time on: I wrote Stronger Where it Breaks (Veilguard spoilers) after I beat DA4 in a short space of time. They will learn was also written similarly quickly.

favorite thing I wrote: I'm going to list multiple answers bc I deserve it.

I think it might be the unpublished Var Shiral'vhen chapter "Rift test take 2" just because I adore the Solas/Ian conversation in that chapter. It really encapsulates what I find fascinating about their dynamic, put them in a room together and they will start vibing even when I wasn't planning on it.

(Veilguard spoilers in the link) They will learn, a fic I mostly wrote for Joly but ended up getting more attention than I expected on Tumblr! I really enjoyed working with Elvhenan worldbuilding and I'm looking forward to doing more with the OCs I started crafting for the purposes of the fic.

(Veilguard spoilers in the link) The shape of you, a really abstract fic that's sex but also isn't sex. It was more a picture than words in my head so writing it down was difficult, but I enjoyed how it turned out esp since I didn't spend too long on it (it was like two sessions of writing).

favorite thing(s) I read:

(Veilguard spoilers in the link) keep my body from the fire (Solas x Felassan) by Almalexiasgf. I loved the depiction of Solas's [redacted] and Felassan's handling of it. It captured everything I love about the new lore surrounding the elves in DA4.

deus proditus (dame aylin & ketheric thorm) by @darethshirl. Such a neat exploration of these characters and their hostile relationship to each other, their love of Isobel, divinity/mortality. Highly recommended!

The History in our Skin (nb!lavellan & keeper deshanna) by @theshirallen. You were a fool if you thought I wouldn't include Joly in this. I love the pain and the peace in this, the impossible choice Deshanna saddles Ian (still a child but in choosing becomes grown) with. "There is no right answer" but only because the world is hostile to everything they are.

it ends, or it doesn't (felassan & an ensemble cast) by @dreadfutures I'm still making my way through this one (VG put a huge dent in my reading habit I carefully built over 2024 lmao) but I love Blue's Felassan POV and the worldbuilding they do for the Dalish/ancient elves. It's so inspiring, and the mystery is so good.

Mien'Harel (solas/felassan, solas & ensemble) by @bodysnatch3r Again, making my way through it, but Matty has such a great use of language and the worldbuilding is so good. I'm going to have my heart broken (more) when I continue I'm sure, but I'd highly recommend checking this one out.

these violent delights (Zevran x f!Tabris, Lucanis & Zev/Warden - Rated T) by @inquisimer. I love love love the Zev/Tabris pairing in this, and the playing off Lucanis is also excellent. I'd highly recommend it for its intrigue and character dynamics!!!

writing goals for 2025:

Continue Var Shiral'vhen

Not burn myself out on exchanges

Try to satisfy the need for engagement w/ more realistic means

Stop comparing myself/my headcanons/my divergences to others

new works: It was only after listing them that I realised I was supposed to just say how many, but I wrote it so it's here now. Anyway. 13!

Var Shiral'vhen (Solas x Nonbinary!Lavellan - Rated M) An adaptation of Solas and Ian's love story as well as Thora's journey as Inquisitor. About finding love in impossible places, undoing the damage the world has done to you, building trust from the ashes of other people's fires.

They will learn (Solas & Original Elvhen Character- Rated G) Veilguard spoilers. The world is new, and so are the people. Solas meets a new invention and sees the beauty and horror of creation.

The shape of you (Solas x Nonbinary!Lavellan- Rated E) Veilguard spoilers. Solas asks Ian a difficult question that Ian has no trouble answering.

Five, Seven, Five (Solas & F!Cadash - Rated G) Veilguard spoilers. Set in Inquisition. After a visit to Cadash thaig, Thora is inspired to write poetry after a lifetime of reading it. She shares it with Solas, as she shares everything with Solas.

Stronger Where it Breaks ( Solas x Nonbinary!Lavellan- Rated G) Veilguard spoilers. On Ian's suggestions, Solas takes up journaling to deal with some of his issues.

Pawn Takes King ( Solas x Nonbinary!Lavellan - Rated E) Technically Veilguard spoilers for the game's hub/home location. After a game of chess results in a rare victory, Ian claims his spoils.

The means by which art is made ( Solas x Nonbinary Lavellan! - Rated E) After Solas discloses his preference for bottoming, Ian tops him for the first time. It is not a night without its setbacks.

In Defense of Spirits (N/A - Rated G) A meta about the spirits of DA:O and how they can be read more sympathetically with the future game's lore taken into account.

The Art of Reading Aloud (Gale x F!Tav - Rated E) Ophelia (Tav) gives Gale a blowjob while he explains the history of the Moonshae Isles to her.

A Study of Hands (Gale x F!Tav - Rated T) An exploration of Gale's mental state throughout act I of BG3 as well as his developing feelings for Ophelia (Tav).

Chip Butty (Gale x F!Tav - Rated E) The morning after the party with her Tiefling kin, Ophelia wakes up with two headaches. One, from wine. Two, everyone expects she bedded Gale the night before.

The Queen's Pleasaure (Alicent x Rhaenyra - Rated E) When the King calls, Alicent does not linger longer than she is wanted. Her return is interrupted by a wayward princess, fresh from a foray into Flea Bottom, and hungry for companionship. Or: What if Rhaenyra had found Alicent before she found Ser Criston?

A Little Light (Jowan & Connor - Rated G) After years of young apprentices giving him a wide berth, lest they catch his talent for mediocrity, Jowan finds himself in the position of tutor to the young Connor.

[iamafictionfreak]

Hello, hello!!!

So… it’s been a while. I know I promised/offered/hoped for more of this. And... even though it’s been months, I've finally managed to write the next part.

Not to be deceiving, but part 2 is literally episode 2 only. I'm going the way of Loaded march and posting oneshot's with a rough length of about 20, 000 words? Give or take 5000.

Ever read Footloose’s Loaded March? The Merthur fic to end all Merthur fics?

For those here who aren’t Merthur veterans – we hold weekend group therapy sessions, and depression Thursdays – Loaded March is a series of stories (16 in all) amounting to 1,261,720 words, which is mind boggling to me, and each story is never more than either a oneshot or a handful of chapters until you reach the end.

So, I’m doing that here. Highest form of flattery there is.

So, yep. Part 2 is written and it's around 20000 words - Once it's edited I'll upload, very hopeful for a release by New year. Each episode will be the equivalent of a mini arc but it'll likely be a while before part 3 etc.

As with the above post, I’m aiming, if I actually manage to get there, to cover the rest of season 1 and leave it in a good place. It’s basically a retelling of the show, except with Arthur knowing Merlin’s secret, which changes everything. The juicy part is how this is investigated, developed and how it may or may not alter events as these two idiots progress.

Forewarning: don’t expect a light and fluffy time. Yes, I’m hoping it will be humorous. It’ll likely be dark at times, angsty. Painful. But the light is the key, and the relationship between Arthur and Merlin, the core. It’s, hopefully (pleasepleaseplease) full of adventure and truth and fun!

Unfortunately, Arthur, as you’ve seen, won’t immediately be buddy buddy with the personification of ‘evil’ that his father has raised him to want to destroy. We have a trained killer with a nobility made of steel and a heart as fragile as a bird’s. We have a soft and squishy peasant boy beholding the world's heart of gold, a primal gaze who is an unforeseen powerhouse with unlimited potential to grow into the most formidable man on the planet.

In the show, we see Merlin change over time, moving from servant to devotee of Arthur but kept very much isolated and shadowed. It leads to a very bittersweet end and a deeply fearful Merlin who should never have had to be. With said man knowing the truth, how does that change this growth. I’m not a fan of unearned progression so please don’t expect these two to become the best of friends in the space of 2 chapters.

In the show they fit all the definitions yet fit exactly none of them. They’re friends, except they’re not because their social status gets in the way. They’re devoted comrades, except they’re not because how can they be when such huge secrets stand between them. They’re each other’s protector, except neither really knew it nor understood what it meant. Arthur became Merlin’s purpose, and no one ever knew that heartbreakingly beautiful truth, so he couldn’t serve said purpose to his fullest potential. Arthur was never able to know what it was like to have someone like that by his side because even when he married Gwen, there was a piece if himself that he kept concealed. Watch season 5 and you’ll see what I mean and it’s because of that, that Gwen feels so alone at times.

The show held such potential. And luckily fan works aren’t limited by money or stereotypes or backwards thinking or, oddly enough, a yearning to thrown in a boatload of realism in the last half hour of a supremely unrealistic show.

This fic will not be halted or forced or rushed into romance of any kind. I have an issue with unearned progression. Natural chemistry leads to places yes, but people don't usually just fall in love and go with the flow.

The possibilities are delicious, won’t lie. If Arthur and Merlin had been allowed to ‘touch that’ in the show, the depth of it - the many layers it would have added - would have taken it in a very different direction, one that didn’t fit BBC goals at the time. Imagine all the S1/2 episodes with a bi Arthur. How that alone changes everything about it. Likewise, rewatch the episodes and imagine that it circles certain forbidden feelings and suddenly it’s so much more. I also won’t destroy existing love angles for the sake of something that I want more. No, it needs to feel natural. We’ll see what happens.

If you have questions, throw them at me, whether I answer them is another thing entirely.

I hope you’re all okay at the very least. It’s been a tough few years.

P.S I was going to wait until the third part was written as well, but the year has been hard; I've been sick, I've gotten a new far more stressful job and I've begun it question whether we really do exist within a 'matrix', so it feels right to post a sequel at christmas when merlin did everything to kill us once upon a time.

*not my gif*

In a Land of Christmas, and a Time of Fanfiction, There was an Irritated Woman in Dire Need of a Re-Write:

(gifs not mine - they're from @genyakosstyk)

So… I did it! I did exactly what I said I’d do here. I wrote the start of what could become a long-winded piece of diatribe focusing on how much Merlin the tv series could have healed us instead of hurt us.

I can’t tell if I’m overly ambitious, a little desperate (about anything and everything honestly) or just so done with 2023 and the crap-tastic news it generates. That and, I have this on repeat in my mental-space, which is more of a shed than a palace:

(gif from @punqueen13 )

So that's fun.

It’s forgivable to escape horror or fear or fatigue or guilt and grief by diving into fantasy. And is there anything more fantastical than merlin? Merlin and all the promise it brings. Is there any wonder why fics are still being churned out for a series that ended 11 years ago?

So here it is.

Part 1 of one. I’ve written a short, five chapter thing. It isn’t a prologue, it’s an intermission between episode 1 and 2 of season 1. The chapters are short for a reason, but I wanted to give a mix of both Arthur and Merlin povs so do let me know if they’re extremely out of character – I can handle a little ooc, especially given the nature of fanfic but if I can’t hear their voices in my head or see them as I read, I feel like I’ve failed.

I think I did ok?

The premise is simple:

Arthur sees Merlin, a peasant he had a brief altercation with, use magic to save his life. He should tell his father about. He should arrest Merlin.

He doesn’t. His honour being at risk, he allows Merlin to work for him on the proviso that he doesn’t use magic. Ever.

Except Arthur has questions he’s never been given the answers to. And Merlin is – odd. He’s nothing like what Arthur’s been told a sorcerer is and he makes it all too easy for Arthur to drop his guard around him.

Which- well, it must be magic, right?

His father, his attendants and tutors, have taught him about the manipulations of witchcraft and sorcery and how they can twist a man into feeling empathy for the wicked.

The problem is that Merlin isn’t exactly what he’d call wicked. Arthur trusts his own instincts and they’re telling him very different things to what the king decreed. He vows to watch over his new manservant. The moment he commits treason, he’ll run a sword through him.

And in the meantime, maybe – just maybe – he’ll find out for himself if a man who turns to evil, can’t turn back.

I’LL POST EACH CHAPTER WITHIN THE NEXT TWO WEEK SEASONAL PERIOD.

But.

There will then be a wait for part 2 – if anyone truly wants it, that is. And if not, hey. I had fun writing this.

Other bits and bobs and odds and sods:

Will there be romance?

Eventually! But I do wonder with who you mean? And this is first and foremost an experiment about how Merlin and Arthur could have been if what when how and why. If Arthur had Merlin's full trust and if Merlin was allowed past the walls Arthur had erected to keep even Gwen out, what could they have become?

Is it funny?

I HAVE NO IDEA. I truly hope so though, at east a little. There's some seriousness ahead to get through first though, Arthur isn't just going to jump into trust.

Will there be a lot of differences from season 1?

I aiming for exactly that.

How much trouble is Merlin in? More than season 1?

Ahem, have you seen the below man?

Merlin's in ALL the trouble. He just doesn't know yet that trouble is his home-spice.