#i refuse to say *only* because all three of these fics took work. and i'm proud of them

[thisisapaige]

Phantasma (wc: 30 934. complete. Rated E.) (tags: Angst with a Happy Ending, Alternate Canon, Stanford Era, Ghost Cas, Hunter Dean)

Dean doesn't have the guts to grab Sam from Stanford. Dean fails to find his missing dad. Dean can, however, hunt the ghost haunting his house. Yeah, Dean buys a haunted house. On purpose. After a quick salt and burn of the bitter old ghost of Naomi Novak, Dean can finally have something in his life go right. But the ghost isn't what Dean's expecting. The spirit he finds is a polite, broad shouldered, blue eyed man in a trench coat who, instead of throwing Dean through the window in a vengeful rage, asks Dean for help. Dean agrees to assist Castiel, the Friendly Ghost, with moving on to the next life. Cas isn't like any ghost Dean had ever met. The usual rules don't apply to him. He's kind to Dean. He loves books. His cold touch brings mortals close to death. The more time Dean spends with Cas, the less Dean wants to let him go. Cas is good company. Dean hasn't let himself get close to anyone in years. In a different life, Dean could have fallen in love with him. Or maybe he already has.

Murder the World (wc: 10 162. complete. Rated E.) (tags: Angst, Canon Divergent after s10e22 The Prisoner, Demon Dean Winchester, the Castiel and Colette parallel, Hopeful Ending, Porn With Plot)

Castiel said he would be the one to watch Dean murder the world. Now he has a chance to prove it.

Lavender Pines (wc: 30 609. complete. Rated E.) (tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship (Platonic Cas & Rowena), Secret Relationship (Sam/Rowena), Idiots to Lovers (Cas/Dean), Case Fic, Post-Episode: s12e11 Regarding Dean)

Rowena calls Sam, asking for help. Her former lover, the powerful witch Leon O'Leary, has something of hers and she wants it back. When Sam agrees to help, the last thing he expects is for her to pull out a ring and propose. To Cas. Cas and Rowena move into the wealthy suburb of Lavender Pines and work to become the most well-liked newlywed couple on the block. Sam and Dean support them from the bunker. It’s a milk run of a case. Simple. Easy. It’s not.

Three fics! 71 703 words across three fics that I worked hard on, am very happy with, and enjoyed writing! It's about the quality not the quantity :-).

Keep an eye out next year for my Pinefest. It's taken up all my creative attention since this summer so hopefully it's a good one. I also couldn't resist signing up for the DCRB again so hopefully I have a chance to claim one of the many amazing pieces of art!

Happy New Year! Here's to more Destiel in 2024!

[poppadom0912]

Excuses

Warnings: Mentions of fainting, diabetes, canon-typical injuries

Summary: You suffer the consequences just because your teacher thought you were making excuses.

A/N: First fic of 2024!!! I had plans that I was going to post weekly in the new year just like last year but things went downhill. This january and february has had its very good but also really bad moments and even writing this was a struggle. I've found myself in a weird place of wanting to write but struggling and all of a sudden not being able to balance my schoolwork and writing. So I took a lil step back to solely focus on my work but looking at everything now, my fic updates will be much less frequent but hopefully just as or if not, more fun to read.

I feel bad for not saying or posting anything since the new year but I'm here now and hopefully will be more alive. I've got lots planned for you beautiful people, several series and way too many fics in my drafts that I cannot wait for you all to read. This wasn't as long or as juicy as I intended but my brain completely failed me so I hope this is good enough. I initially wanted to post this at the beginning of March but I finished the final editing today so here you go!!

Final note before we start, I have general knowledge about diabetes but that's all from my grandma. I have no idea if it's the same for teenagers so I'm sorry for any mistakes. Happy reading!!

Your biology teacher had been on maternity for three weeks now and you were seriously contemplating life.

Because of the crappy rules surrounding maternity leave, when your teacher refused to return before her three months ended, your school had a supply teacher fill in for her till she came back.

Since day one, you knew you hated her.

It was mid lesson and you knew as soon as you started feeling sluggish that your sugar levels were dropping. Your thoughts were only confirmed when your Dexcom receiver let you know of your decreasing glucose.

This wasn't a usual occurrence. Will and Jay always made sure you had eaten enough and you had the means to maintain the needed glucose levels so that nothing happened.

Alas, you were up late revising and you were stressing about keeping up your good grades. Jay was rushing you out the door because he needed to go to a scene he'd just been called to and Will was out walking Kol and hadn't seen you leave.

In conclusion, it'd been a hot minute since you last ate something.

The school were well aware of your diabetes. It was one of the very important things your brothers stressed them about when you first started.

Most students knew about it actually, having seen your Dexcom and not understanding since a diabetic child apparently wasn't common according to them.

So, when you randomly pulled out a snack from your bag mid class, no one questioned it and instead would make sure you were okay. There'd never been a problem before in school and everyone wanted it to stay that way.

However, this new teacher, Mrs Byrne was apparently completely unaware of your medical condition.

"Y/N. You know the rules about eating in class." She said strictly, pulling away all the attention from the board onto you.

She stopped you in the middle of opening the packet of fruit gummies. You frowned, looking at her confused along with your classmates.

"I have diabetes." You said bluntly, continuing to open the packet. "I don't eat this and I'll pass out."

Mrs Byrne only rolled her eyes, smiling at you condescendingly. "I've heard that excuse hundreds of times, give those to me."

You scoffed at the audacity, refusing to hand over what was yours.

It was when she started walking towards your desk with a pep in her step that the entire class got involved. Their raised voices overlapped, some angrier than others over what was happening.

However, you too were Stubborn alike to your brothers so you kept as firm of a grip of the packet. You turned a blind eye to the anger fuelled cover teacher. You continued to smile as she spewed threats of all sorts.

Due to your frustration and annoyance over the teacher who wanted to take your gummies away, you didn't notice how everything started change; how hard it was to move your eyes and lips, your limbs getting heavier and you thoughts slowly getting muddled up.

Lost in a daze, you were no longer able to fight back when she pulled harder, successfully snatching the small packet out of your hands. It was now that the class got furious, your friends were already up and at your side but now they were verbally attacking the teacher.

Fed up with her petty behaviour, you were going to get up and go to the nurses office who would take care of you but getting out your seat was harder said than done.

With one of your friends help, you weren't too sure who was helping you from your hazy sight that cleared when you blinked too many times.

You were wobbly on your feet, taking slow and hesitant steps towards the front of the classroom but before you could leave, you felt your legs give out and everything went black.

*****

It turned out that supposed crime scene that he was imminently needed at was nothing but a prank by a bunch of college boys resulting in a grumpy Hank putting them in cuffs and having them fined for a very reasonable reason.

That's how the rest of the unit found themselves finishing up paperwork, catching up about life in general as they debated what they were getting for lunch.

Jay was smugly sitting back, eyes flickering between Kevin and Adam who were bickering over something trivial when his phone rung, catching everyone's attention.

They were all so bored and normally when one of their phones went off during work hours, it meant something came up and they were needed.

In interest, everyone turned their heads towards Jay and waited for him to tell them they got a crime scene.

Picking up his phone, Jay's brows furrowed at the number, confused as to why your school was calling him in the middle of the day. They'd only call him if two things happened: You'd gotten in trouble or you got hurt.

"Hello. Is this Y/N Halsteads brother Jay?" A voice he couldn't recognised asked, most likely some lady from the main office.

"Yeah, that's me." Jay confirmed, sitting up in preparation for whatever he was going to be told.

"So sorry to interrupt you sir but Y/N collapsed in class." The lady said with guilt laced in her words. "Your other brother didn't pick up the phone. We called to let you know we had to call the paramedics and they've taken her to Chicago Med."

"Uh yeah." Jay said, collecting his jacket and keys. "Yes, thank you."

Not waiting for a reply, Jay hung up and quickly knocked on Hank's office door frame.

"Sarge, I gotta get Y/N-"

"Go get her. We're done here."

*****

Wanting to pull his hair out, Will rubbed his eyes in frustration, glaring at his patients scans that only confused him further. He was tired and was coming to half way through his twenty four hour shift.

"Dr Halstead- Uh, Dr Rhodes in T4." Maggie stumbled, looking down at her brick and making sure she read it correctly.

"What's wrong?" Will asked, confused as to why Maggie changed her mind which she usually never did.

"It's Y/N."

Now fully awake, Will followed Connor towards the ambulance bay where you were being rolled in. You were groggily sitting up on the stretcher, you hair a mess and a few scratches around your face and hands from when you fell.

"Sylvie, what happened?" Will asked the blonde paramedic while looking you over. He desperately wanted to check you over himself but let Connor do his thing. He really did not need Ms Goodwin on his case today.

"Teachers didn't tell us much but her classmates said she collapsed after not being able to eat." Sylvie relayed the minimal information she knew, shrugging her shoulders when the two doctors looked at her weirdly. "No one would tell us anything more."

"Y/N, it's Connor. Can you hear me kid?" Connor said while pulling out his penlight. He was like another brother to you, his concern just as high. "Can you tell me what happened?"

You groaned, mumbling nonsense with your eyes screwed closed. Your words were mostly unintelligible but Will understood them mere seconds later.

Fixing the problem you complained about, Will turned down the lights and let Connor continue fussing over you.

It didn't take long to find out the cause of your collapse, Will sighing at the news when he read the numbers from your tests.

"I thought she was always on top of her sugar levels." Connor said, closing the room door so you could sleep in peace.

And what he said was completely true but they weren't aware of why you couldn't today specifically of all days.

"She is." Will said, rubbing a hand down his face in frustration. "Maybe her dexcom malfunctioned or something."

Connor hummed, agreeing with his friend.

"Hmm, maybe."

*****

Arriving at Med, Will gave Jay a detailed rundown of everything he new about your medical state but also the events pre your hospital arrival.

Getting a good look at you, holding your hand in his and kissing you on your forehead, Jay was more than happy to leave you in your oldest brothers safe hands while he got to the bottom of this entire ordeal.

He noticed Sylvie was still at Med, Foster mentioning they were running low on a few supplies so they needed some stocking up. Jay took this opportunity to interview the two paramedics and try to get further understanding on this situation that wasn't making much sense to him.

Arriving at your school, Jay had some thoughts in mind but they weren't very concrete and his confidence wasn't as strong as he'd like it to be.

Walking into the school, Jay immediately noticed an entire class sitting and standing around in the corridor waiting in front of the principals office.

One of the girls who had been sitting in a chair had caught sight of Jay, her eyes widening before she smiled, gently nudging the girl next to her and pointing in his direction. The girls reaction was the exact same.

This created a sort of domino effect as the boy next to her noticed Jay and everyone was telling the other of his sudden arrival. The once silent corridor was now beginning to fill with murmurs and whispers, all their eyes glued onto his figure that moved down the corridor, their shocked faces quickly changing into smiles and smirks.

It seems that Jay had a reputation of sorts.

"Why are you making so much noise? What did I just say about talking-"

The principal cut himself off from his scolding when he suddenly noticed Jay's presence, his face blanching as all the pieces clicked into place.

"Detective Halstead! What a surprise, we weren't expecting to see you so soon-"

This time Jay cut him off, not too bothered about his lack manners. "My brothers with Y/N at the hospital so I thought there was no other perfect time."

The principal remained silent.

"Now, why don't you explain to me why my sister fainted under your watch?"

The students behind Jay couldn't help but snicker knowingly.

[alwaysshallow]

Tomato emoji here.

I would love to request a little cute gaz fic yk? I feel like my boy doesn’t get enough love at all..

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x gn!reader

You watch a movie with your boyfriend, after he comes back from deployment. (2,1k)

AO3 version

A/N: I'm so sorry it took so long!! Yet again, I hope it's gonna satisfy you! <3 Late birthday gift, I'd say.

It's the third Avengers movie, and Gaz still doesn't want to tell you what is going on.

Instead, he stares at you. Not like that surprises you in any way. It's a habit of his, you figured it out in the beggining of your relationship with him – he has his days, where he just needs to... zone out and stare. It happens more after he comes home to you, tired of everything that happened.

Mostly, he speaks about his deployment. Talks how they got the bad guy, or intel – really depends what it was about, but mostly he acts almost boyish, like he wasn't talking about some mission where his life was on line. He treats it like an adventure, something he wants to share with you because he's so proud that he not only made that far, but he made the world a better place with his fight. You appreciated it every time.

Now, he just stares at you. He doesn't even watches the movie that he carefully picked. He didn't even pay attention to the previous two before, he's just beside you, looking at you with unreadable face. Even if you want to, you can't read him, Kyle is like a walking mystery. You'd like to solve it, but it's harder than you thought it would be.

Nonetheless, there's a strange kind of understanding between you two. Gaz has never confessed, but you know that it's bad now. It's this kind of bad, where you want just to hug him and tear every worry he has off his face, whisper some soothing words. Everything for a man that did so much for you, a man that really brought the best of you.

The man who actually fought for you, when you wanted to leave him, when you told him it won't work.

He made it work. It was hard, but he made it work because he loved you. And, he still loves you.

You don't know this, but he wants your face to be the last thing on his mind before he dies, that's why he stares. Just in case something will happen, he has to remember your face.

“Tired?” Kyle asks quietly, tugging the strand of your hair behind your ear. You’re dozing off on the couch, and he feels pretty bad for keeping you up. It's almost three in the morning, you should sleep. It's his fault; he wants you by his side because you soothe him.

"A bit." you shrug, looking at him. It's not a big deal for you – even if your eyelids are way too heavy, your boyfriend's sake is more important than anything. "I can't sleep anyway." you lie swiftly.

Even if you won't sleep that night at all, it's all fine for you. It's about his comfort, not yours, and it's about making him confess what happened. You both know that he always feels better after a quick talk, but he's always so torned between telling you and keeping it for himself. Bad things shouldn't include you – he thinks, and he tells you this every time you two are fighting.

It's always about him being too secretive about things that bug him. Not that you counted, but most of the times, he always talked about his traumas so casually, after weeks. "I almost lost a leg" or things similar to this, concerning for normal civilian – like you – were pretty "normal" for a soldier – like him. You told him multiple times his explanation was shit, and he learned it the hard way, when you refused to go to bed with him because you were mad.

Apparently, nothing worked on Garrick as well as a threat of not spending a night in his arms; the captain of Task Force 141 always joked about this being his potential punishment, not 100 push-ups.

"Yeah." Kyle murmurs eventually. "Me, too." his voice is raw with emotion, and you can feel how much he wants you closer, he doesn't even notice your lie. You can't help but wonder, even if nothing is said out loud, how you came to understand each other so well. Was it because you loved each other so much, or your character was similar?

"I know." you just say, as you stare back at him.

He's a strange man, you know it ��� sometimes he was cutting you off, sometimes he had to have a quick break from everything, including you. The longest break was three days, and he came back on his knees, apologizing.

Most of the times, he was kissing you breathlessly, whispering sweet nothings to you, as his hands were working on unbuttoning your shirt. He needs this kind of contact, it's the love language of his. It's something comforting, being in your close embrace, without having to think of the rest of the world.

You know it, he knows it, so without any hesitation from your side, you come closer, sitting on his lap. Next thing you do is hugging him, tight; Kyle wraps his arms around you too, immediately. He feels your warmth, his body pressed against yours. He inhales your scent - the perfume you chose is his favorite.

Probably because he chose it for you as a Christmas gift, but it was really pretty, too.

This is a comfort he desperately needs right now.

"God," he sighs, burying his face into your neck. "I'm so glad you're here. I'm a mess." he speaks in a harsh whisper, like he doesn't want anybody around you to know, even if it's only the two of you awake. The rest of boys are sleeping in your house, Johnny wasted in the kitchen, Ghost probably in the bathtub, Price... well, Price probably outside. Smoking cigar or talking to someone over the phone.

You can't care less about this in the moment.

"I have these..." he starts, but pauses. "Bad dreams." he whispers eventually. "Really bad."

You try not to ask, so he won't trouble himself with speaking; that's the level of being close that you two have. Unspoken rules, so he will be comforted enough to eventually open up, while you listen, caressing his back in circular motions, her eyes shut, when his face is in her neck.

"About what?" you ask quietly, trying not to push him, but five minutes passed, and he got quiet again. "About what are those dreams, Kyle?"

He sighs. "Bad things. Bad things I've done. Bad things I've seen." Kyle pauses. Then, very slowly, he starts again."It feels real. In one moment, I'm sleeping by your side, and by another one, someone is kidnapping you. And I can't do shit about it" There's a deep, primal terror in Kyle's tone. "Then, when I wake up..." he trails off. "And you're here, sleeping. I'm feeling like I'm losing it, baby."

Your face is a definition of worry; you weren't aware how nightmares were affecting him. It feels bad not to know. You feel like you are a shitty girlfriend, but Kyle seems to notice that, as you take a deep breath. He hugs you tighter and places a kiss on the top of your head.

"I don't want to wake you up, but it's your presence that I always want. I don't know what I would do without you." he pauses. It looks like he wishes this moment would never end; because he knows it will end, sooner or later.

Probably sooner. They already have a mission they talk about, and Kyle, quite literally, wants to vomit every time they bring that up. It's not one of the hardest, but one of the longest. Three months without you is like a dagger to his heart, he already feels so tired, but asking Price for a break feels wrong.

Task Force 141 was formed for something and that certain "something" is: being ready whenever the world needed them.

"I'm always gonna be here with you, Kyle. No matter what, no matter what you are dreaming of." you whisper, kissing his head again. "Always. Come on, with a boyfriend like you? I'm the safest in the whole world."

He's silent at that statement. It's not like he doesn't believe you, but he knows how fucked up the world is. How fucked up people are, to do anything to get something.

Probably that's why the only people that knows about your relationship is his closest family and Task Force. Other people? It would be dangerous.

"I was going to tell you something," he eventually murmurs again, staring at you. He wants to change the topic, badly. "Ask, if we want to be precise. I don't know if I should. But I want to."

You kiss the top of his head, your eyes shutting for a moment or two once again. You're tired, but not ready to go to sleep without Kyle feeling better. "What is it? You know you can tell me anything, Kyle."

"You can read me like a book." he chuckles, shaking his head.

"And you happen to be my favorite book." you point out, chuckling under your nose too. "Tell me."

"It's something I wanted to do for... a few months."

Those words hang in the air. Kyle doesn't feel the urge to add any further details; he wants to see how you react, if you react. If you might know something, if you get the idea he's trying to tell you. In his opinion, you should be able to fill the gaps, the blanks, with your own intuition.

It doesn't help you to figure his thoughts, when he stares at you with those pretty, deep brown eyes. He expects you to know, you are together for two years already, but you really don't want to overinterpret this because if you would, he'd never let you live through it.

"You want to buy an apartment together?" you ask, even if it's not what you are thinking about. Kyle scoffs, as he kisses your neck; his face is still burried here.

"No." he raises his head. His back straightens up. "I want to marry you." Garrick's words are so genuine, so full of that sincerity you needed right now. You slowly clear your throat, as you look into his eyes.

It's important moment for you.

"And you're telling me this now, so I can expect this? Or you want a clue about a ring?" you grin, as you give a little peck to his lips.

Before he speaks, you know from his look that it's not exactly it.

"I was on that long mission, deep inside enemy territory. It took... a toll on me. Listen" he sighs, interwining your fingers with his. "You're my rock, my life line. You've always been the one for me. And I want to marry you now. As soon as possible."

"As soon as... we don't even..."

"Don't worry about your family. We can arrange something small for now, and have a big wedding later. But I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

He wants to marry you. A thought, a thought that he wants to realize as soon as possible, maybe even twice; something small, and then, something big for their families. You look at him, softly, as you think. It's hard to get the rush coming from him words, to not have second thoughts why exactly he wants it so soon.

Is it because he knows something bad is coming? You're overthinking this, sure, but it's a big life decision, it's something you could regret if you wouldn't think of it after.

"Please." he adds after a moment. "I need an answer."

Kyle acts like he can read your thoughts; he drops to one knee right in front of you, looking up at you – it's clear you're the love of his life.

"I don't want another day, another mission without you being my wife. Missions are getting tougher and I want..."

He doesn't have to say anything else; you understand, so you interrupt him, as you kiss him. You know you will have a wonderful life together. Your own family, together. You were meant to be a team, both in this life and the past. It's the order of things.

"We can marry soon, yes. Something small." you intertwine your fingers with his. "But, then, something bigger, alright? Exquisite. With everyone around us" you kiss him.

A small, hopeful smile spreads across Kyle's features. "And babies?" he asks, as if he knows the answer to that question. You can't help but laugh.

"You're speeding the process, Kyle. We will talk about it after the ring" you tease, as you kiss him.

You know that you will have babies with him, though; but the later he will realize, the longer he will want them.

[immeasurablesaladagere]

Hi salad! Can i please request an impure regression fic about little!Wilson going nonverbal 🙏🙏

Here you are! I'm almost to the bottom of my request stack, yay! It's late when I'm posting so sorry if I've glazed over any mistakes, I'm sure I'll catch them tomorrow and facepalm lol

-----

Word Count: 1003

Summery: Wilson has been quiet since they got home. House goes to find out what's up and finds him regressed in his room.

-----

If he was being honest, House hadn’t noticed the absence of Wilson’s usual milling around the apartment until his stomach started growling. Ever the motivated housewife, Wilson was always meal-prepping and tidying, and if they had a kid, he would be hovering over them and permanently messing with their sense of independence as all good mothers. He was also usually the one who started dinner after they got home, but now it was nearing eight-thirty and the only thing he’d heard from Wilson was quiet footsteps to the bathroom and back over an hour ago. How very un-Wilson of him.

He grunted as he pushed himself off of the couch and hobbled down the hall to Wilson’s room. 

“You better not be jerking off in here, because I’m coming in!” He announced, before unceremoniously opening the door and walking in. It wasn’t like he cared all too much about privacy, but he wasn’t exactly looking to be flashed on a Friday night; at least, not by Wilson.

There was nothing scandalous going on in Wilson’s room; nor was he sleeping, which was his second guess. Instead, he found Wilson curled up on his side, on top of the covers in a baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants, gripping his teddy bear against his chin. He looked up at House with round, tired eyes, but didn’t say anything.

He fished his bottle of Vicodin out of his pocket and popped a couple of pills. So he was regressed, then. He could probably deal with that.

He still wasn’t entirely used to the whole “caregiving” thing, but he had yet to catastrophically fail and traumatize Wilson’s three-year-old self, so he was tentatively confident as he sat down on the bed by his feet. 

“So… What’s going on here?” He motioned to Wilson’s generally sad, floppy-ness. Now that he was closer it was obvious that he had been crying at some point, his eyes were bloodshot and it looked like someone had vacuumed the soul out of him.

Wilson didn’t respond, which seemed to be a trend with him. Of the few times he had been regressed around House, he had only spoken more than a few words consistently once. Wilson had explained to him that while he technically could speak, it took too much energy and he usually decided not to. He wished adults worked like that, he would go home every day with so many less migraines.

“O-kay… Do you need me to do anything, or are you good to just… be sad?” Wilson seemed to have himself handled, but he figured he should do his due-diligence, just in case.

Wilson looked around the room for a second, thinking, before slowly raising a hand and doing what House recognized as the baby-sign for ‘food’.

“Hungry? Me too. I guess you want me to make you something?” He asked, and Wilson looked away and scrunched up more. “Relax, it was an offer. I’ll see what I can scavenge from the cupboard.” He got up and made his way to the kitchen, and after a minute he heard Wilson climb out of bed and follow him.

Wilson dropped into one of the dining room chairs and watched him intently as he rummaged through the cabinets for something quick and kid-friendly. He pulled out a box of Kraft Mac n’ Cheese. Kids liked this stuff, right? 

“Will you eat this?” He asked, and Wilson nodded mutely. “Perfect.”

He dumped the pasta into a pot of water and began to heat it over the stove, watching as the water turned a murky, starch-filled beige. He remembered seeing these boxes in the store when he shopped with his mother as a kid. She always refused to buy them because “those are just chemicals”, and she was probably right, but he still smirked to himself at the idea of getting to stick it to her after all these years.

Once the pasta had cooked, he strained it and dumped in the neon-orange cheese powder, a spoonful of butter, and some milk. After a quick stir, he had a pot of edible-looking yellow macaroni. It didn’t smell like chemicals. He poured some into two bowls and gave one to Wilson before joining him at the table. Maybe it was the kind that killed you slowly. He could live with that.

Wilson ate his portion far too quickly for the quality of the product, but he supposed he was mentally a toddler. It was okay, all things considered. They sat in silence as House picked away at the pasta and Wilson fiddled with the paws of his bear absently. He was staring off at nothing, and House could see that whatever had upset him earlier was still bothering him.

Eventually he decided to bite the bullet. “Do you want to talk about it? Or— sign or something?”

Wilson firmly shook his head no.

He shrugged. “Okay.” He took both of their dishes to the sink and left them at the bottom for Wilson to clean up tomorrow. “I think it’s time for bed now, hm?”

There was no resistance on Wilson’s part, which wasn’t surprising. He looked so exhausted it was almost unsettling, and easily allowed himself to be led back to bed.

“And this time, we get under the covers. It’s a great invention, I know.” He pulled the covers up over Wilson’s shoulders, and once he looked settled, turned to go back to the living room.

But the second he pulled his hand away, Wilson let out the most pathetic kicked-puppy sound he could possibly muster. With a sigh House sat down on the edge of the bed and put his hand back, and immediately the fussing stopped. He chuckled, “Oh you are needy.” 

With nothing better to do, he began gently rubbing up and down Wilson’s back until his breaths evened out and he was asleep, snuggling his bear. House couldn’t help but smile slightly. He really did look like a little kid. 

“Goodnight, Jimmy.”

[fireflies-are-kewl]

Children of Evolution

So... this has been written, rewritten, and spiraled into something different, but here it is! I had been listening to Harpy Hare a lot with this fic, along with watching this amazing animatic by Solarock! Enjoy!

Words: 1,952

Somebody had been whitelisted recently.

Grian knew that, but he knew a good many of things.

For one, he knew who was whitelisted long before he logged in. For two, it had been him who had asked Xisuma to whitelist him.

Xisuma knew a few things too. Not many, not that he minded. All he had said was that he hoped Grian was alright. Grian had smiled and winked, saying that there was nothing to worry about.

InTheLittleWood joined the game. Grian: heyy! Martyn good to see ya InTheLittleWood: It's good to be here! InTheLittleWood: Where you at?

After a brief visit and showing him where he lived, Grian settled in for a talk he knew had been coming for a while. Universal messages took time to reach servers and other universe hubs, so when Grian saw the message sent by Martyn... he knew he had only a few days to prepare. Hence his whitelist request.

"So. Have you told Pearl?" Martyn started, leaning against the wall of the half-done house Grian had been pretending to work on. Despite how relaxed his lean was, Martyn's arms were crossed over his chest and his head was lowered. Never a good sign.

A flick of Grian's wing, and he turned to work on something on his crafting bench.

"No, l ‘aven't. I don't want to tell her either, I told you that at the Secret Keeper." Grian said, and he heard Martyn scoff. Grian didn't turn around as he continued. "If she hasn't remembered, then she should be left to that. I don't want her to be mixed up in all this again."

"This is getting too big for us to handle our own. There’s been, what, six of 'em now, for Void's sake, Grian!" Martyn exclaimed, gesturing with a hand. Grian moved to a chest, digging in it for something. Martyn shook his head, pinching his nose with his fingers. "They're not blumin' children. They should know."

"And what, exactly, do you plan on telling them?" Grian snapped, slamming the chest's lid down. Martyn watched him, and Grian waited for an answer. When he didn't get one, he finally turned to face his old friend. "'Sorry to remind you, but those monsters from Evo? Yeah, they've been trapping us in death games for the past three years and erasing your memories! Surprise!'”

"...Don't take the piss, mate, you're being awful."

A scoff, and Grian rolled his eyes with a frustrated smile. "I'm being awful because that's the only way I can get this through to you: telling them about this, any of them, is a bad idea. It puts so many more people in danger."

"So, what? Are we supposed to just keep taking it from Them? I've been running for who knows how long, and that hasn't worked at all." Martyn moved off the wall, stepping towards Grian with a serious look on his face. Grian's tense smile fell with his approach. Here we go. "I refuse to just lay down and take it any longer."

"It’s not like we even have an idea to stop Them. I've tried to before! You have too! Look what good that's done for either one of us!" Grian yelled and gestured between the two of them. A sharp silence, a Watcher and a Listener glaring at each other. History repeats itself, no matter who’s involved.

From above, someone cleared their throat intentionally, and the two snapped their heads up to see who had been listening in.

Pearl was up in the rafters, her ladybug wings twitching behind her as she pushed off from her hiding place. She was smiling a little, playful and knowing, as she fluttered down from the beams with little fanfare. Martyn and Grian backed off from each other as she stepped up.

"I knew it was serious when he popped up online. Are we finally going to talk about the games?" Pearl asked while looking down at Grian. Grian nearly squawked at the blunt question, and Martyn, shocked as well, bit his lip at the look on his friend's face. He snickered, and Grian shook out of it.

"You knew?! For how long?"

"Since I won the soulmate one. I woke up at my base and just... had to think and write everything down." Pearl, though looking vaguely uncomfortable, shrugged a shoulder. She tucked a loose strand of hair back under her postmaster's hat.

"That's been... gosh, Pearl, why didn't you tell me?" Grian asked, and Pearl snickered. She gently punched him in the shoulder with an arched brow.

"The same reason you didn't tell me, dummy. I didn't know if you knew. I remember what those things could do, so... I was waiting to see if you'd come to me." Grian rubbed his arm and muttered something about that being stupid but fair. Martyn rolled his eyes with his own smirk on his face.

"This is why we talk. Emphasis on the 'we' there, Martyn." Pearl fixed Martyn with a Look, daring him to say something in defense. Martyn, with his hands up, didn't dare.

"You could've just as much told me or Jimmy about all this too, you weirdo. Unless... they’ve been keeping you away?" Pearl's voice softened at the end, remembering. Martyn and Jimmy had been taken by the Listeners, unlike how the others had been scattered across the universe hubs. Jimmy must've slipped through the cracks, ended up back in the Overworlds, but not Martyn. She had hardly seen him since Evo’s collapse.

"Not for long. Wasn't keen on being a bird in a cage, so I skipped out. Been runnin' through a few worlds for a few years now... until the games started." Martyn rubbed the back of his neck. He didn't meet Pearl's eyes despite the smile on his face. Always good at dancing around the truth, he was.

"Once they started, I noticed... something? Like I was waking up in worlds I didn't go to sleep in. Then these memories of conversations with Them... I didn't remember much until I won the time game. I knew I couldn't really hide anymore, but... I didn't know what to do." Grian hummed his sympathy, sitting against his crafting bench as they talked.

"You could've come here. The Hermits would've taken you in." Pearl said with that same steady softness, crossing her arms. On one of her wrists, she wore red and teal bracelets, something beaded and homemade. On each of them, three charms spelled out, ‘P.E.T.’.

Martyn waved her off. "Nah, I can't hide myself as well as G has. Tried a few times and they found me like that,” He said while snapping his fingers, "Besides, I'm better suited for world hopping. It's fun."

"As much as l'd love to keep catching up, we should probably keep talking about the whole games thing," Grian interjected with a nod of his head. Martyn shrugged and leaned against a wall of books. Pearl simply stood straighter before speaking up.

"I think we should tell Jimmy and Bigby," She started, making Grian predictably stutter a denial. "They were just as much a part of Evo as we were. Just because we're winners of those games, doesn't mean we should be the only ones that know."

"I get what you mean, but I, I really don't think it's smart. What if it draws Their attention to them?" Grian hesitated, feeling the eyes all over him itch at the prolonged talk of the Watchers. Martyn arched a brow and rolled his eyes, but spoke with more gingerness than he cared to admit to.

"I get why you're worried, mate, but look. They already know where we all are. They take us and put us back all willy-nilly without us really noticing. We have, actually, more than a surplus of Their attention."

"I get that," Grian bit out, fingers curling at his sides. "I'm meaning more of Their attention on our home servers. The ones we’re apart of are the least touched by Them that l've ever seen. I don't want to risk another Evo happening to more people."

"Evo happened because a lot of us were out of the loop, G." Pearl reminded him, making him glance over to her. Shame flashed in his expression, through his body, but he didn’t deny it. "Hels, I barely knew Listeners were a thing until you told me about what happened to Martyn and Jimmy."

"Don't you think I was keeping this all a secret for a reason?" Grian stepped towards her then, wings tense and hands out in front of him. "I brought all of you into Evo, I made a gods-awful deal with them, and then practically shattered the server with everyone still inside. That could have deleted your very code, Pearl." A glance back. "Yours too, Martyn."

Martyn's brows furrowed then, reaching out. "G, this isn’t—,”

"Why should I risk that with you guys again? With even more people now?" Grian continued as he ran a clawed hand through his hair. Slowly, purple lines along his face started to appear on his face, his brown-gray eyes fading steadily into a similar hue. “This, what, ‘playing along’? Void, it's the only damn way I can see that keeps the servers and everyone safe. I-I, ah, I can't give Them any reason to devour my friends again!!"

Grian shouted, and the purple lines along his face opened up, looking like drawn-on eyes that actually moved. Pearl gasped softly as Martyn stared in surprise. Neither had seen Grian in his other form since he first escaped the Watchers, and to see it bleed into his human form…

The avian looked between his old friends before putting a hand to his face. A sound, barely a breath, and he forced the eyes to close. Martyn looked away, then. He didn't need to be reminded of those eyes, so painfully similar, or what laid beneath his own player disguise.

Pearl's expression was hard to read, yet regardless, she stepped closer to Grian and pulled him into a hug. It was a strong one, arms wrapped around Grian's shoulders and tugging him close. "It's not just your call, Grian. Frankly, if it was, you'd be doing a miserable job at it."

"Hey—,"

"And... it's not just your responsibility, because it wasn't your fault." Pearl finished, pulling back enough to look Grian in his eyes. Wholly purple, uncanny and inhuman, yet somehow still him. "You know They will do what They please. Let us help you, buddy."

A shaking sigh. Martyn spoke up as Grian rubbed his face to hide all the purple under something more human. "To be honest, I'll still find a way to deal with the Watchers even if you say no, so," He hissed a bit, sarcastic, "Might just want to let all of us in on it, G."

Grian chuckled, rolling his normal eyes. The audacity. "Yeah, yeah, alright. You've wrung it out of me." He hummed, a tad dramatic. "Can't ever let me do anything on my own."

"Excuse you?!"

"Mate, you literally ask me and the other Hermits to help you a lot, like what?!"

Grian cackled as the conversation, finally, rolled into their usual banter. He could only do so much seriousness at a time, and he had honestly been reaching his limit. Now it was time for some calm.

Calm that would, hopefully, last until the inevitable storm.

===

Jimmy's wings twinged at his back. He was being watched.

...no, Watched.

He turned his head, hand on a build he was messing with and stared in horror. This was his private server, how did—?!

Hello.

SolidarityGaming has fallen out of the world. SolidarityGaming has left the game.

[threewaywithdelusion]

I Forgot What I Called This on AO3 (Stranger Things Fanfiction)

Because AO3 is down and I'm posting my fanfic over here for people to read. If you search "Mia writes fanfic" on my page, you can see all the fic I've posted here

Steve had been getting things ready for the kids all week and they were arriving tomorrow morning and he definitely wasn’t losing his mind. Robin had called him a mother hen three times already and had taken to just smiling fondly and rolling her eyes as Steve moved the couch for the twelfth time, trying to make sure Max’s wheelchair would fit through the tight space. 

“It’ll be fine, Dingus,” she said for the millionth time. “The kids love you and they’re going to keep on loving you even if you don’t move our coffee table three inches to the left.”

Steve scowled. “You say that, but if Max hits the table Lucas is going to bite my head off. And Dustin will say something about how if I’d paid more attention in math or physics or wherever the hell you learn this stuff, I would have known to move the table three inches to the left. And then-“

“And then nothing!” Robin said. She set her glass of wine down on the floor — Steve winced, knowing she was going to trip over it later — and came over to take his hands. “They’ll still love you exactly the same. They’re your kids.”

“I haven’t seen them since Christmas!” Steve said. 

Robin gave him a fond look. “It’s been three months, Steve. They haven’t forgotten you in that time. Now sit down with me before you give yourself gray hairs and ruin that pretty head of yours.”

Steve took a deep breath and followed Robin to the newly-relocated sofa, picking up her glass of wine and handing it to her moments before she could kick it. 

Steve picked up his own glass of wine, which he’d barely touched. 

“To our last moments of peace and quiet,” Robin said. 

Steve knocked his glass against hers.

***

The kids looked so grown-up. 

Lucas was insanely tall and he looked like a proper, put-together adult, pushing Max’s wheelchair with one hand and carrying two duffel bags on his shoulder. He’d clearly been working out and his clothes were a little trendier than what he used to wear. He was the only one of the three to have already turned eighteen, and Steve couldn’t believe how quickly he was growing up. 

Max also looked completely different from the kid Steve had first met. There were the things strangers noticed about her first — the milky-white eyes she refused to hide behind sunglasses, even when the lights gave her headaches, and the wheelchair — but she’d also cut most off that long red hair off. She had a short cut which she’d spiked up with hair gel and Farrah Fawcett hairspray — Steve had taught her how to do it, over a year ago — and it made her look badass and alternative and like she was comfortable with herself. 

Dustin still wore his nerdy baseball cap, but his curls had grown out past his shoulders — an homage to Eddie — and still wore a nerdy shirt with a button up over it. Of all the kids, he looked the most the same, the most like the thirteen-year-old who had dragged Steve into his life with a hunt for a missing demodog. 

Steve loved them all so much. 

He ran towards them, ignoring Robin’s “they’re walking this way anyway!” and immediately pulled Dustin into a hug. Dustin dropped his suitcase to return it, holding Steve tightly and already chattering away. 

They rocked from side to side for a moment. 

“I thought California was supposed to make you tan, but you look the same,” Dustin said. 

Steve gave a watery laugh and pulled out of the hug. “I missed you too, you dick.”

“Is Steve crying?” Max asked. 

“No!” Steve protested. 

Max raised her eyebrows judgmentally. “Are you lying to the blind girl?”

Lucas grinned, leaning on the back of her wheelchair. “Not cool, Steve.”

Steve stepped around Dustin and Lucas came over to give Steve a hug. God he was so fucking tall. 

Behind him, Steve could hear Robin greeting Dustin. 

Steve bent down to give Max a hug too. She squeezed him, then traced over his head before letting him pull back. 

“Did you cut your hair?” she asked. 

“A bit,” Steve told her. “There’s a longer floppy bit in the front, but it’s shorter all around.”

Max tilted her head. “Does it look good?”

“Of course!” Steve scoffed, right as Lucas said “eh.”

Steve snapped his fingers at Lucas. “You’re dead to me, Sinclair.”

“So your hair got worse and you’re pasty, Steve?” Max teased. “What have you been doing out here?”

“I’ll have you know that I look amazing,” Steve told her. “Lucas and Dustin are just liars.”

“You are pasty!” Dustin protested. 

“It’s okay, I don’t have to see it,” Max said. She put a hand over her heart. “I’ll always remember you fondly, the way you looked on Lovers Lake.”

Steve grinned. He’d heard this story many times over the years and he always loved it, even though the details tended to change depending on whether Max, Lucas, or Dustin was telling it.

Lucas scowled. “Forget him! You should remember how hot I looked!”

Max reached behind her and Lucas put his hand where she could find it just so that she could pat it condescendingly. “I remember, baby. You looked great for fifteen.”

Lucas made a sound of indignation, but he was smiling fondly as he picked Max’s hand up and kissed it. 

Dustin groaned. “I’ve been third-wheeling them the whole way here. Please tell me I don’t have to share a room with them.”

“We’re not that bad,” Lucas protested.

At the same time, Max said, “You’re just jealous because you don’t see Suzie until Wednesday.”

“You don’t have to share a room,” Steve said. “Robin and I are taking her room, Lucas and Max are taking my room, and Dustin, you get the couch.”

“Why do I get stuck with the couch?” Dustin asked. 

“Because you’re only here for four days,” Steve said. 

“Yeah, Steve’s jealous that you don’t like him as much as Suzie,” Robin teased. “You’re breaking his heart, Dusty-Bun.”

“That is not true!” Steve protested. 

“So does this mean you two are finally…” Dustin directed at Steve and Robin, eyebrows waggling. 

Steve groaned. “No, Dustin. Never going to happen. Come on, let’s get going.”

He grabbed both of the duffels Lucas had been carrying so Lucas could use both hands to push Max. 

“Why would we be paying rent for a two-bedroom in San Francisco if we were together,” Robin asked Dustin. “Have you seen rent prices around here? Cause I could probably sell a kidney for less than an apartment.”

Dustin got a thoughtful look on his face. Steve wasn’t optimistic that Dustin would give up if he hadn’t in the past four years, but he watched as Robin walked with him, trying (hopelessly) to talk him out of it. 

“What about Robin?” Max asked. 

Steve didn’t answer at first, assuming she was talking to Lucas, until she poked him in the thigh. 

“What?”

“Does Robin look hot?”

Steve groaned. “Not you too, Mayfield.”

“Come on, Steve, you have to tell me.”

“Her hair is a bit longer and the tips are blue,” Steve said. 

Max huffed. “Thank you for that being completely unhelpful. Do you even like girls? That was the lamest description I’ve ever heard.”

Steve sputtered. 

“Yeah, she looks hot,” Lucas said. 

Steve shot him a look, trying to warn him that when your girlfriend asked if another woman was hot, it was always a trick question. You should never, ever answer with a yes.

If Max and Lucas broke up again right before staying with him for a week, Steve was going to lose his mind. 

“Thank you, Lucas!” Max said, sounding triumphant. “That’s how it’s done.”

Steve blinked, first at Max, then at Lucas. 

He would never have gotten away with saying that to Nancy or Debbie or any of the girls he’d dated. Hell, the only woman he would say that to was Robin, and that was because she had equal interest in pretty women. 

Lucas gave Steve a little smile that Steve couldn’t interpret. 

Steve gave up. 

“Whatever is going on between you two, just know that I promised Mrs. Sinclair multiple times that you wouldn’t be in the same room. So if anyone asks, Dustin bunked with Lucas and Max stayed with Robin while I took the couch.”

“How noble of you,” Dustin shouted back, the little eavesdropper. “To take the uncomfortable couch instead of forcing it on your unsuspecting guests!”

Steve flipped him off. 

“We’re not stupid,” Max said. “We know how to lie our asses off.”

“And I don’t want to hear any noises!” Steve added. “I don’t care what you do in there, but for the love of god, don’t make me hear it!”

Lucas made a horrified face. “Man, please stop talking.”

Steve was also blushing, but he forged on. “Last thing, I promise. I’m hating this just as much as you are.”

“I doubt that,” Max muttered.

Steve’s face was burning. “There are condoms in the bedside table,” he told the floor. 

There was no response. Steve risked a peek at the kids and saw that they both looked vaguely traumatized and bright red. 

Robin and Dustin, who had stopped by the car, watched as the three of them approached. 

Robin took one look at Steve’s face and cackled. “Did he give you the safe sex talk?”

Dustin groaned. 

Robin looked gleeful. She patted Dustin’s arm as she leaned in, pretending to whisper while talking loud as fuck. “Don’t be jealous, Dusty-Bun,” she teased. “Steve also bought you condoms to take to Utah.”

She and Max burst out laughing while Dustin turned to Steve with a look of horrified betrayal. 

Steve pinched his nose. “Everybody get in the car or I’m leaving without you.”

***

Of course it didn’t matter how much Steve had fretted about preparing everything just right, because disaster struck just as they were getting ready to leave for their dinner reservations that night. 

Max accidentally hit the end table. Steve watched in what felt like slow-motion as Robin’s half-full wine glass from the night before teetered off the side and into his lap, soaking his jeans. 

He cursed at the huge red wine stain in his lap. 

“Whoops,” Max said. 

“Robin!” Steve hissed. 

“Sorry!” Robin said. “I forgot I left the wine glass there. But like, in my defense, if the end table had been in its usual place or the couch had been in its usual place or you hadn’t rearranged literally all of our furniture, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“So it’s my fault?” Steve asked, pouting at her. 

She was unmoved by his puppy-dog eyes. “Go change, Dingus. I’ll clean the couch.”

Steve stood, ignoring the wine running down his legs, and went to Robin’s room. It was a disaster because Robin emptied half her closet onto the floor every time she tried to decide what to wear. Two years of living with her had been enough for Steve to unlearn two decades of keeping his parents’ house neat and clean, and when he’d grabbed clothes from his room to give it to Lucas and Max, he’d ended up dumping most of it in a pile on the floor. 

Steve toed off the dirty jeans and looked through the pile as best as he could. He’d grabbed way too many shirts and it looked like the only pair of jeans he’d taken were his going out jeans. They were tighter than his usual pair and made his ass look amazing. 

He yanked them on quickly and met the others in the living room in time for them to head out for the reservation. They made it to the restaurant with just enough time to spare, Steve dropping them all at the door to claim the table and then driving a few more minutes to find parking. 

When he finally entered the restaurant, the kids enthusiastically waved him down and he couldn’t help his smile as he slid into the booth beside Robin.

It was great to catch up with the kids in person instead of over the phone or Dustin’s Cerebro. Like this, Steve could watch Dustin’s eyes get all fond when he talked about going to school with Suzie in the fall if they both got accepted into MIT. He could hear Max’s laugh without static interrupting it. He could watch Lucas act out the plays in his most recent basketball game and see the way he still looked to Steve throughout the story, wanting approval. 

Steve was so fucking proud of all of them. 

Robin squeezed his hand under the table. “You look happy,” she whispered. 

Steve squeezed back. 

After Steve paid the bill — something that was much harder these days, but which he wasn’t going to tell the kids — they all meandered back to the car. Lucas and Max went ahead, murmuring quietly to each other. It was a nice night, clear and relatively warm for March.

“If you think so, then I’m stealing your coat,” Robin told Steve when he said that aloud. She didn’t wait for him to hand it over, but started stripping it off him. “I’m freezing.”

She wrapped his coat around herself and he laughed and put an arm around her, pulling her into his side and rubbing up and down her arm. 

“Better?”

She hummed. “Toasty.”

There was no comment from Dustin, which was suspicious enough to make Steve check he was still there. 

He was, walking on Steve’s left, but his attention was focused on Steve’s ass. 

Steve frowned. “Dustin?”

Dustin looked up at him. “I don’t get it. Is there some fashion trend that Eddie was years ahead of? Or are you doing it to remember him? Neither of you were even super close with him!”

Steve took a minute to try to understand that, but it made no sense. He glanced at Robin, wondering if she was being slow, but she looked just as confused. 

“What?”

“Your handkerchief,” Dustin said. “Are you wearing it for Eddie?”

Steve’s stomach flipped as he understood what was going on. He’d grabbed his going-out jeans in a hurry and he’d forgotten to take the handkerchief out of the back pocket from the last time he’d gone to a club. 

Steve glanced over his shoulder to check what color he was wearing. It was dark blue, tucked into his right pocket. 

Steve bit back a series of curses. He glanced at Robin again, who was watching him with wide eyes. 

“Um,” Steve said. “I’m wearing it… like Eddie? In the same way, I think.”

“So to honor him?” Dustin asked. He traced his long curls. “Maybe I should do that.”

“No!” Steve said hurriedly. “Absolutely not!”

Dustin looked hurt. “I was way closer to him than you were, Steve. And I was the one there when-“

He cut off, glancing away. 

Steve felt awful. 

He and Dustin had had a bit of a rough time after Eddie’s death. Dustin had blamed both himself and Steve for letting Eddie die, and he’d felt guilty being friends with Steve when they’d lost Eddie. Like he was replacing one friend with another. 

He knew how sensitive Dustin was about Eddie.

Steve was so open in San Francisco. He had followed Robin here because she wanted to be able to live without the same fear she’d had in Hawkins. He would have followed her anywhere. If she’d chosen the most homophobic town in the country he would have gone, despite the fact that traveling Europe with her after defeating Vecna had led Steve to realize he was interested in men. He was here because of her, not because of him.

But he loved living in a place where he could openly be himself. Where he could pass other men flagging on the streets and not just in discreet bars, hidden in the back corner of alleys. He loved when he and Robin went out and both brought people home, some girl coming out of Robin’s room in the morning to find Steve and his one-night-stand already making breakfast in the kitchen. 

Being bisexual was a bigger part of him than he ever could have imagined back when he lived in Hawkins. 

But he’d never been brave enough to tell the kids. They lived so far away and he saw them so infrequently and he hadn’t wanted to risk a negative reaction. If it went badly, they didn’t live in the same town. He couldn’t keep running into them, forcing them to slowly accept what he was. If the kids took it badly, they could just decide to never come back. 

Steve couldn’t bear it if the kids walked away from him. 

Robin nudged Steve gently, knocking him out of his thoughts.

Dustin looked really confused and upset. Fuck. 

Steve would get hurt a thousand times before he ever hurt one of his kids.

“I’ll explain when we get home, okay?” Steve asked. 

Dustin made a face. “Why not now?”

“It’s not something I want to just explain on the street,” Steve said. You never knew who might be listening, even in San Francisco. Besides, Dustin was guaranteed to ask a million questions even if he took it well, and Steve did not want to have that conversation on a random sidewalk. 

“Fine,” Dustin huffed. He sped up a little to walk with Max and Lucas. 

“You okay?” Robin asked. 

“Yeah,” Steve said, his voice tight with fear. 

“Dustin will be fine,” Robin said. “He loves you. He loved Eddie. I’ve never heard the kid say a single homophobic thing in his life.”

“Yeah,” Steve repeated. 

“Steve,” Robin said seriously. She stopped walking and turned to face him. “You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready. You can still make something up.”

“No,” Steve said finally. “I can’t. You’re right, I don’t think he’ll take this badly. Which means the only reason not to tell him is because I’m scared. I’m being stupid.”

“You don’t owe it to him,” Robin said. 

Steve smiled tightly. “I’ve faced Demogorgons. Coming out has to be easier than that, right?”

Robin shrugged. “You’re asking the wrong lesbian, Steve. I’ve only ever come out to other gay people. I mean, even when I thought I was telling Steve “the Hair” Harrington — which was already easier, cause I was like, high on Russian truth serum — and that he was all popular and straight and definitely not gonna take it well, I didn’t know that I was secretly coming out to a bisexual guy who was going to become my platonic soulmate. So. No words of wisdom from me.”

Weirdly, Steve felt better after hearing that. 

“Thanks, Robin,” he said. 

“I love you,” she said seriously. “I’m here.”

“I love you too,” he said. 

***

When they got back to the apartment, Dustin stomped over to the couch and took a seat, arms crossed. 

Lucas looked at Steve warily. “You also did the bandana thing?”

Also? Was Lucas also still thinking about Eddie?

Steve sighed. “Okay, sit down. I’ll explain.”

Lucas took a seat beside Dustin and Max rolled her wheelchair so she was vaguely next to the couch, bumping the table again. 

Steve moved to stand in front of the couch, wringing his hands together. Robin leaned against the wall behind him, silently offering support. 

Steve cleared his throat. “I’m, um,”

Bisexual. 

The word wouldn’t come. 

“Flagging,” he said instead. “That’s what it’s called when a guy wears a handkerchief in his back pocket.”

Lucas frowned. “Is that a fashion thing?”

“Not exactly,” Steve said. “It’s, um, a code? To let people know what you’re looking for.”

He was met with three blank stares. 

“In the bedroom,” he croaked out. 

Dustin’s face twisted. “It’s a sex thing?”

“Dude!” Lucas said. 

“Why were you wearing it to dinner with us?” Dustin demanded. 

“I forgot it was there!”

“I guess the new hair and the pastiness are working for you, if you’re getting enough girls that you’re forgetting your freaky sex flag is in your jeans” Max said. She looked the least affected of the three, but she was also blushing a little. 

Yeah, Steve didn’t want to be talking about his sex life either.

“Wait, that doesn’t make sense,” Dustin said. “It can’t be a new thing because Eddie was wearing one three years ago. And it can’t be a big city thing, because Eddie and Will were wearing them around Hawkins. So who wears it?”

Steve choked on his spit. “Will?”

“Yeah?” Dustin said. “I told you. I said neither of you were close with Eddie, so it didn’t make sense that you were wearing a hanky like he did.”

Steve gaped at Dustin. He didn’t know what to say. Dustin had just outed Will to Steve and he had no idea he’d done it. And now if Steve told Dustin who used hanky code, he would be outing Will to right back to Dustin. 

“Fuck,” Steve said, scrubbing a hand down his face. 

“Does it mean something bad?” Lucas asked anxiously. 

“No!” Steve blurted. “No!”

“So what does it mean?” Dustin asked. 

Steve hesitated. 

“Come on, Steve!” Dustin whined. 

“Okay,” Steve said. “Look, I don’t know about Will, okay? Maybe he’s doing something else. Maybe it really is for fashion or something to him. I’m just talking about me.”

Max’s mouth dropped open a little and a look of comprehension crossed her face. 

Steve didn’t stop to wonder what she’d put together. If he didn’t keep going, he would lose his nerve. 

“It’s a gay code,” Steve said, voice shaking a little. “To let men know what I’m looking for.”

Absolute silence. 

Dustin was frozen, mouth open and eyebrows up. He was staring at Steve is complete disbelief. 

Lucas’s eyes were wide, and darting between Steve and Max. 

Max’s face was frozen, the way it usually was when she needed to figure out what expression she wanted to show. She was cagey, only showing what she wanted and rarely what she was actually feeling. 

Steve hoped she wasn’t hiding a negative reaction.

“YOU’RE GAY?” Dustin screamed. 

Steve winced and shushed him. He wasn’t sure what the neighbors knew and did not want to find out. 

“Bisexual,” he said. He felt Robin come up beside him to slide a hand into his and he dropped a little of his weight against her. “It means I like both. Men and women.”

Dustin looked like he was processing a new scientific discovery. “That’s a thing?”

Steve nodded. 

“How did you know you were bisexual?” Dustin fired right away, brain clearly whirring with questions. 

“I slept with a guy and liked it. So I slept with a couple more and liked that too, and then I got confused because I didn’t know you could like both and I was really sure I liked women. So I talked to a friend and they explained to me what bisexuality was.”

“Huh,” Dustin said. 

Steve couldn’t take the suspense. Dustin had skipped straight to the interrogation and entirely blown past any kind of reaction, and the other two kids were just watching them go back and forth like it was a tennis match. 

“Is that… okay? With everyone?” Steve asked. He heard Robin’s shoes scuff the ground behind him, like she was also anxiously waiting for an answer. 

“Of course it’s fine, man,” Lucas said. He still looked a little surprised, but definitely not confused or revolted. He was actually taking this suspiciously well. 

Over the years, Steve had given a lot of thought to how each of the kids would react. He’d figured Dustin would be nosy but accepting, Max would try to act cool even if she was a little freaked out, and Erica would say something insulting but would defend him harder than anyone. Mike would almost inevitably be a little asshole about it — Steve had eaten dinner at the Wheelers’ a lot when he’d been dating Nancy and he knew what sort of ideas Mike had been raised on. He’d been preparing for years to not take it personally when Mike reacted badly. Will was a bit of a wild card — Steve figured he was probably gay, but that his reaction would depend on where he was on his own journey of self-acceptance and whether he would be happy to have a gay friend or if he would lash out in an attempt to seem straight. 

Lucas, though? Steve had never gotten a good reading one way or the other. He’d never heard Lucas say anything about gay people, positive or negative. And Lucas knew what it was like to be hated on by bigots like Billy because of the color of his skin, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was okay with gay people. In retrospect, Steve was pretty sure Billy had been some type of queer (he’d spent a lot of time harassing Steve while they were either sweating on a court or naked in the showers) and that certainly hadn’t stopped him from being racist, so it could definitely go the other way. 

But Lucas was acting as if Steve had announced something unexpected but vaguely boring. Like he’d said he’d started rooting for the Golden State Warriors or traded in his car for a new one, instead of announcing he was sexually and romantically interested in men. 

Dustin, on the other hand, looked insulted. “You think I care if you’re gay? I’m a little mad you didn’t tell me, but I don’t care who you date.”

“Yes, you do,” Steve said. “You try to set me up on dates all the time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just cause you’re always single and you can never get dates on your own. It’s kind of sad. I care about you not being lonely, not if you like dicks or not.”

Steve frowned. “Was that an insult or a compliment?”

Dustin scoffed. “You’re an idiot. But I, uh, love you and stuff. Even if you didn’t tell me you were gay for literal years.”

Steve felt a little warm inside and he couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, buddy.”

He looked at Max for a reaction, but she looked deep in thought. Okay. Maybe she needed time to process. He’d circle back to her. 

“Was Eddie gay?” Dustin asked. 

“Um, I mean, I can’t know for sure. He didn’t come out to me or anything. But he was definitely flagging and I’m pretty sure he was flirting with me when we were in the Upside Down.”

Dustin squinted at Steve. “So you and Eddie…?”

“No,” Steve said. “I only realized I liked guys after… everything.”

Dustin nodded like that made sense. “Is that why you moved to San Francisco?”

Steve debated how to answer that. 

“No,” Robin said. “Steve moved here because of me. I moved here because it’s easier to be gay in San Francisco.”

Steve turned to gape at her. Robin was shaking slightly and cutting off the circulation in Steve’s hand, but her chin was tilted up proudly and her eyes were boring into Dustin. 

Dustin was gaping. Max’s face was turning red. 

“Sorry to steal your thunder,” Robin whispered. 

Steve squeeze her hand. “I’m proud of you.”

She beamed. “You too, Dingus.”

“Oh my God,” Dustin said slowly. “Is this why you two won’t date?”

Robin laughed. “Yeah. I’m way too much of a lesbian to date Steve.”

Steve scrunched up his nose. “Like I’d date you, Buckley.”

“You asked me out,” Robin sing-songed. “You would totally date me.”

“You asked her out?” Dustin demanded. 

“Ugh, yeah. Back when we still worked at Scoops Ahoy. She told me I would have a better shot if I was Tammy Thompson.”

“I knew Robin was your type!” Dustin was bouncing on the couch in excitement. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve said. “You also didn’t notice that Robin was a lesbian for four years, so don’t be too proud of yourself.”

“Oh come on, Steve, how was I supposed to guess that everyone I know is gay?”

“Everyone?” Steve asked. 

Dustin listed them off on his fingers. “You, Robin, Will.”

“You can’t be sure about Will,” Steve said halfheartedly. 

Dustin gave him a look. “I assumed he was gay when we were like ten, Steve.”

Yeah. That made sense. Steve barely knew Will Byers before all the Upside Down shit had happened, but even he’d heard rumors in the days following Will’s disappearing about Will being gay. It made sense that Will’s oldest friends would have heard those rumors — and probably more — and that they would wonder if some of them were true. 

“One out of three isn’t terrible gaydar,” Robin said. 

“One out of four,” Max said. 

They all turned to look at her. She was staring vaguely in the direction of Steve and Robin, holding Lucas’s hand in a death-grip. 

“What?” Robin breathed, sounding excited. 

“I like girls too,” Max said. “And Lucas.”

God, she was so fucking brave. Max had no choice but to stand out. Everywhere she went, people stared at the blind girl in the wheelchair. They pitied her. They pitied Max, which was insane. Max was smart and brave and stubborn and sarcastic as hell. She wasn’t someone to be pitied, she was someone to be admired. 

Case in point: she didn’t have to paint another target on her back. She could have kept quiet and kept dating Lucas, who she was probably going to marry, and no one would ever assume she was anything other than straight. 

Steve was twenty-two and had known he was bisexual for two years and had only said something because he hadn’t seen another way to keep from hurting Dustin. 

Max was seventeen and already braver than Steve would ever be, holding Lucas’s hand defiantly and volunteering the information that she liked girls. 

“See!” Dustin said, gesturing at Max. “Everyone I know is gay!”

That was a very Dustin reaction, even if it wasn’t necessarily the right one. 

“Thanks for telling us, Max,” Steve said. 

“If you ever wanna talk about girls, you can call me,” Robin said. “I talk to Steve sometimes, but he has terrible taste and he has the audacity to say that I have terrible taste and I would love to talk to another girl about this.”

Max grinned. “I get to talk to Lucas. And I know he has perfect taste because he chose me.”

Dustin made a gagging sound. 

Lucas pressed a kiss to Max’s shoulder, looking embarrassed but pleased. 

Steve was so proud of him. Max had clearly told him before tonight, and he was still here holding her hand, so he must have done everything right. He obviously hadn’t acted offended or taken it as a challenge to his masculinity that his girlfriend liked girls. 

Steve thought of their little exchange in the airport and the way Max had asked if Robin looked hot. 

His heart warmed, watching them. 

He never would have believed that a relationship between two thirteen year olds would last this long. He was going to walk Max down the aisle someday, and he was willing to bet his measly life savings that Lucas would be the one waiting for her at the end. 

“Am I gay?” Dustin wondered out loud. 

Steve laughed. “Dude! I think you would know if you were gay.”

“You’d think, wouldn’t you?” Robin said. “But sometimes your twenty-year-old best friend tells you he thought everyone thought about pretty boys and you realize that some people are too much of a dingus to realize they’re gay.”

The kids all laughed. 

“So what does your bandana mean?” Max asked, waggling her eyebrows. 

Dustin made a face. “I don’t wanna know what Steve does in bed!”

Max shrugged. “I do.”

“Okay, someone’s a little too interested, Mayfield,” Steve said. 

“I’m bisexual too!” Max protested. “I need to know this stuff.”

“You’re blind,” Dustin muttered. “You can’t even see the bandana.”

Max hit him threw a pillow at his head with unnerving accuracy. 

“Girls don’t really use the same code,” Robin said. “You have to actually have the guts to go up to a girl and talk to her instead of knowing what she’s into based on what she’s wearing.”

“But how does it work?” Lucas asked. “Are you just saying you’re looking for a hookup?”

Steve blushed. 

“Educate the queer youth, Steve!” Robin said, the traitor. 

“Only one of them is even gay!” 

“You can’t tell Max and not me!” Dustin immediately protested. 

“And Max tells me everything, so I might as well hear it too.”

Steve groaned. He kind of wished a gate to the Upside Down would open under his feet so he could get out of having this conversation. 

“Okay. The colors mean you’re looking for different things. And it also matters if the bandana is in the right or left pocket, because that tells people if you wanna do the thing or have the thing done to you.”

There. That was a kid-friendly description, right?

“So if Eddie’s bandana was black, what does that mean?” Dustin asked. 

Steve gulped. Robin cackled. 

“Um, black is sadomasochism,” Steve said. He had to force every word out of his mouth. “So he liked, um, rough sex.”

He cringed as the kids all turned bright red. 

It wasn’t a new feeling, wishing Eddie hadn’t died. But this was the first time Steve wished he was alive specifically so Eddie could be having this conversation instead of Steve. Eddie would have been shameless, loudly proclaiming his preferences to everyone around, and then the kids would learn to stop asking invasive questions when they learned much more than they wanted to. 

“What’s yours?” Dustin asked. 

“None of your business,” Steve said quickly. 

“Come on, Steve,” Dustin said. “Now that I know you can’t date Robin, I need to find someone else to set you up with. And how am I supposed to know you’re compatible if I don’t know what your bandana means?”

Robin was shaking against Steve. He looked at her briefly in concern, only to see that she was losing the battle against a fit of giggles. 

“Save me,” he hissed to her. 

“Steve, this is the best entertainment I’ve had all year. I’ve never you seen you this red, even that time in Scoops-“

“It’s dark blue,” Steve said, to keep Robin from telling that particular story. “So just regular sex.”

Dustin frowned. “You’re wearing a bandana that literally just says you’re looking for sex?”

“What’s regular sex between two dudes?” Lucas asked, frowning. 

Steve groaned. “Did your parents never give you the sex talk?”

“Yeah, but it didn’t cover that.”

Steve scrubbed his hands down his face. He remembered when he’d first started sleeping with men, how much information he hadn’t known. He’d been traveling through Europe with Robin, hitting different gay clubs in each city, and he’d initially picked up a guy because he was bored and thought he might as well try it. (In retrospect, the man had been really pretty and Steve had been curious for a while, but boredom had been the excuse he had given himself to go through with it). 

He hadn’t known what two men could do with each other. He hadn’t known how to be safe. He was really goddamn lucky that he hadn’t taken home the wrong guy, or gotten an STD, or gotten AIDS. 

No one had ever given Steve the gay sex talk either, and if they’d offered it to him back when they’d given him the straight sex talk, Steve wouldn’t have wanted to listen. 

And here his kids were, asking him to explain. Sure, Dustin and Lucas were probably straight, but everyone had thought the same thing about Steve. 

It couldn’t hurt for them to have more information than they needed, but it could definitely hurt for them to have less. 

“Fuck it,” Steve said, “Fine. Always the goddamn babysitter.”

Robin made a squeaking sound. “Are you seriously giving them the sex talk?”

Steve nodded wearily. 

“I’ll go be other there,” Robin said, gesturing at her room. 

Steve caught her hand to keep her from leaving. “Absolutely not. You’re here to provide a girl’s perspective.”

“Steve, I did not sign up for this and I’m in no way qualified to give this talk.”

Steve stared at her. “And you think I am?”

“Goddamnit,” Robin huffed, conceding the point. “Fine, okay, sex talk, yay! This isn’t awkward at all.”

What followed was the most embarrassing hour of Steve’s life. He tried to start with the basics (consent, condoms) and only give the kids the absolutely essential facts, but they all asked really pointed and specific questions. Even Lucas, who Steve couldn’t imagine asking these questions in a group setting, was emboldened by Dustin and Max’s shameless questions to ask about a horrifically detailed “hypothetical” that had Max blushing and burying her face in her hands. 

Dustin made Steve explain the entirety of the hanky code (“Wait, why would you wanna be the one getting fucked? How does that feel good?”), asked a million questions about Steve’s type (“Hot brunettes isn’t a type, Steve!”), and then asked for advice about how to make sure a girl was actually ready to have sex and wasn’t just doing it to rebel against her super-religious family (… uh, Robin? Any thoughts?”). 

At the end of the night Steve was pretty sure that he was going to have a bright red face forever and that his hair was in disarray from how many times he’d run his hands through it, but he also felt like his kids were thoroughly prepared for any situation they might encounter. 

He sent the kids use the bathroom first and started laying sheets on the couch for Dustin. He layered a few blankets on because San Francisco could get cold at night, then was handed a pillow. 

“Thanks,” he said, looking up to see it was Dustin helping out. 

Dustin barreled into his chest, throwing his arms around Steve in a tight hug. 

Steve dropped the pillow and hugged him back. 

“I miss you,” Dustin said.

“I miss you too.”

“Will you still come visit me when I’m at MIT? Even though it’s farther than Hawkins and the rest of the Party won’t be there?”

“Dustin, you haven’t even gotten in yet.”

“But will you?” Dustin asked, planting his chin on Steve’s chest to look up into Steve’s eyes. And even though Steve knew he was 17, almost a full adult, he looked just like the kid Steve had first met, wide-eyed and looking to Steve for reassurance. 

“Of course,” Steve said. “I’ll be over there so much you’ll get sick of me.”

“Even though you have a job and Robin and you don’t have to drive us around everywhere anymore?”

Steve huffed. “Dude, I haven’t driven you all everywhere in years. And Robin can survive without me for a few days. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Steve said. 

Dustin pulled out of the hug, giving Steve a toothy smile. Then he scowled and punched Steve’s arm. “Next time, don’t wait years to tell me something important, asshole!”

Steve grinned. 

Dustin didn’t care. He wasn’t pushing Steve away for being queer. He was actually trying to make sure that Steve would stay in his life, that growing up didn’t mean Steve would leave. 

Steve pulled the brim of Dustin’s cap down, earning him a disgruntled yelp. 

“Alright,” Steve promised. “The next time I have a life-changing realization, you’ll be the first to know.”

Dustin smiled evilly. “Even before Robin?”

Steve froze. “I’m not picking favorites Henderson, so don’t even try it.”

Max and Lucas emerged from the bathroom and Steve gently pushed Dustin towards it, finally joining Robin in her room. 

Robin was lying on the bed in her pjs, still faintly blushing from the sex talk. “I am never having kids. That was the worst, oh my god. I suddenly understand why my parents just threw a bunch of books at me and told me to figure it out.”

“I got the sex talk from health class,” Steve admitted, digging through the pile on the floor for pjs. “It was not helpful at all.”

Robin snorted. “I’m sure you learned from hands-on experience, Romeo.”

“No, but that’s my point,” Steve said. “I slept with all these girls and all of them only said nice things. I was so sure I was doing a good job, and then I date Nancy for longer than a few weeks and she’s Nancy, so she does research.”

He hissed the word and Robin sniggered. “Oh, she would.”

“She did! And then she gave me notes. Literal, physical notes, on how to do better!”

Robin laughed so hard she went quiet, rolling from side to side on the bed and clutching at her ribs. 

“Robin, Robin, don’t laugh at me,” Steve pouted. “It was humiliating.”

Robin could not stop laughing. “Were the notes on flashcards?”

Steve aggressively yanked pajamas from the pile and refused to answer. The notes had been on flashcards. And they’d been color-coded into general tips and things Nancy specifically wanted to try. 

Steve changed into pajamas as Robin gradually got her giggles under control. 

“Hey, babe,” Robin said. 

Steve looked up. “Yeah?”

She looked serious, sitting up and meeting Steve’s gaze. “I’m proud of you. You were really brave tonight. And you gave me the courage to be brave too, and I never could have imagined a few years ago that I’d be living in San Francisco with my queer best friend and platonic soulmate having an extremely embarrassing sex talk with a bunch of teenagers, but it’s kind of perfect. I kind of love it.”

Steve smiled. He never would have imagined himself here either, but he wouldn’t trade it for anything. His friendship with Robin was the most important thing in his life. And his kids, his wonderful, amazing, brilliant kids, who accepted him and admired him and needed him and loved him — they were here. They’d traveled 2,000 miles just to see him. 

“I kind of love it too,” Steve said. 

Robin beamed. “Definitely worth a little Russian torture.”

What a weird, fucked-up metric. And Robin was still absolutely right. 

[canonicallyobserving911]

“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

Exciting update: Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - “I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!” - Currently 25 chapters completed: 973.1K Words; Rated: Mature

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Exciting Update: The number of chapters for this fic has been increased from 30 to 40!

Before I explain why I increased the number of chapters, I would like to say THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU 😊🤗😁💕 to everyone who has been reading my massive multi-chapter fanfic and I would also like to say WELCOME to anyone who would like to begin reading it. I really appreciate everyone's supportive and encouraging words and please know that I read every AO3 comment that's posted and I respond to all of them.

This fic is Buck's and Eddie's FANON EPIC LOVE STORY and IMO, it has taken them places the show refuses to go!

I've loved every minute I've spent writing it and I'm looking forward to writing even more of it. Currently it's at almost 1 million words but when I first started writing it last year, I had no idea I would be this far along with it because my initial plan was for the fic to only be 12 chapters. Then I changed the amount in AO3 to undecided (?) but after I posted chapter 9 or 10, I decided 30 chapters would be sufficient.

However, after I completed chapters 24 & 25, I took a week or so to review all the things I want to include in it going forward. Once I did, I had to be honest with myself regarding the 5 remaining chapters because I realized they won't be enough. Therefore, I outlined everything that's still to come and decided to increase the fic by 10 more chapters so the Diaz family's story along with Buck's, Eddie's and Chris' individual stories will get the attention I believe they deserve.

At the end of 2023, I posted on Tumblr and indicated my plan was to finish the entire fic before the start of season 7 but that's not going to happen. Also, for those who have been reading along, I want to assure you that just because the new season is set to begin in three days, that doesn't mean this fic is over. It's NOT FINISHED because there's so much more I have planned for the characters and I will continue writing it until I've posted all 40 chapters. If my timeline works the way I'm hoping, my new plan is to complete it during the hiatus after season 7 ends but before season 8 (if there is one) begins.

There's so much more to come for Buck, Eddie and Chris and a quick reminder, just because Buck and Eddie are married and Buck has adopted Chris, all three of their stories will continue.

Here are of the things that still need to be completed.

Eddie's still working towards obtaining two more paramedic certifications so he can become the Critical Care Paramedic of Los Angeles County.

Chris still has to complete the video game he's working on with his classmates.

Buck is still on medical leave and after they returned to L.A.; he told Eddie he didn't know if he wanted to go back to the 118. The question is will he or is he going to find new employment? 👀

Furthermore, Buck and Eddie put a bid in on a house while they were in Italy. Are they going to get it? 🙃

Chapter 25 ended with a massive cliffhanger and the person who sent Buck the package still has to be revealed. 🥹

Finally, their vow renewal ceremony is scheduled for May 2024 and they're going back to Italy for the entire month of June. Adriana's sons are going with them but Buck and Eddie still have to talk with Chris about the University of Florence's summer program when he returns home and they still have to talk to Adri and Tonio to see if Chris' cousins can go too.

So, please believe me when I say there's so much more in store for them and that's why I believe adding 10 additional chapters will allow me to continue to tell their story in a way that's not rushed and I won't have to include any time jumps to fit it all in.

Thank you again for reading, commenting in AO3 and for reblogging the posts about this fic. I really appreciate everyone's support and encouragement.

AND REMEMBER... THIS FANFIC WON'T BE FINISHED UNTIL THE LAST CHAPTER HAS BEEN POSTED!

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This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it.  But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.

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Chapter Summaries

Chapter 1 - Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.

Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.

Chapter 3 - After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.

Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.

Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.

Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.

Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago.  They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are the foundations of a long-lasting love relationship.

Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.

Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial.  But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.

Chapter 10 - As Buck and Eddie finally begin to confront their past traumas, they realize how much they need each other to fill in the gaps of their memories.  Additionally, the universe screams at them for what appears to be the one hundredth time so Buck can realize he doesn’t have to ‘find it’ because he already ‘made it’ and Eddie’s reminded tomorrow isn’t promised and he doesn’t have to die alone if he doesn’t want to.

Chapter 11 - A “virga” or dry thunderstorm is in the forecast but once the rain starts, the thunderstorm happening outside won’t be able to match the storm brewing inside between Buck and Eddie.  It’s the universe’s final scream and when the tumultuous winds begin to blow, they’ll have one last chance to hold onto everything they’ve built over the last six years or they’ll lose it all forever.

Chapter 12 - Buck and Eddie have always shared a deep physical attraction and an emotional intimacy that’s unmatched but now that they’re in a relationship, they’re learning how to navigate the romantic intimacy they’ve been waiting for six years to explore. The love they have for each other is a once in a lifetime, soulmate, love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time.

Chapter 13 - While navigating the newness of their romantic relationship, Buck and Eddie take advantage of every moment they spend together. As their individual lives, people from their pasts, time constraints and the possibility of losing each other again make attempts to interrupt and interfere with their journey to forever, they love, care for, support and hold onto each other even tighter to withstand it all.

Chapter 14 - Buck and Eddie can see the lights at the end of the tunnels regarding the results of Buck’s Cancer Screening along with everything else they’re dealing with. But are the lights they see exits to the tunnels or are they headlights on different runaway trains that are speeding towards them in an effort to interrupt their forever?

Chapter 15 - Buck and Eddie have known they were exactly who the other one wanted in a partner since they met six years ago when they agreed to have each other’s backs. They’re in a romantic relationship, they’re both preparing to ask the other one to spend forever with them and by the end of the seventh week into their relationship, together they will plan their most important and greatest adventure for their future.

Chapter 16 - As Buck and Eddie begin to prepare for their marriage ceremony that will take place in Rome, Italy in December 2023, they start planning their first international adventure as a romantic couple. Even though Chris is still the only person they’ve told about their relationship, several people who know them have already witnessed the love they share and as the days continue, others will witness it too.

Chapter 17 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to departing Los Angeles for their international adventure, a moment in time will remind them; life is fragile, tomorrow isn’t promised and every second of everyday should be cherished because everything can change in an instant. The result of that realization will cause them to hold onto each other even more.

Chapter 18 - As Buck, Eddie and Chris prepare for family gatherings before and during the Thanksgiving holiday, the “Santa Ana Winds” start to blow and all sorts of expected and unexpected familial drama ensues.

Chapter 19 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to their wedding day, the universe begins to align everything so that some of their parent and children's relationships are strengthened while others come to an abrupt end.

Chapter 20 - With only 14 days remaining until Buck, Eddie and Chris depart Los Angeles, CA traveling to Rome, Italy, for their first family adventure, an early morning conversation about “tying up loose ends” helps Buck and Eddie realize there are still several things left unfinished on their ‘To Do’ lists. The question is will there be enough time to complete all of them?

Chapter 21 - Buck, Eddie and Chris are finalizing their ‘To Do’ Lists, double checking their itineraries and packing their suitcases in preparation for their trip to Europe so they can board their flight that departs Los Angeles, CA on Friday, December 15, 2023 at 3:25PM.

Chapter 22 - While Buck, Eddie and Chris spend the first 8 days of their European family adventure in Italy, their primary reason for going will be fulfilled as well as several others they hadn’t considered or anticipated.

Chapter 23 - As the Diaz Family continues their Italian family adventure, they’ll say, “Ciao” or hello and goodbye to a lot of things almost immediately after they become an official and legal family.

Chapter 24 - After Buck, Eddie and Chris arrive in London, England on December 24th; the Diazes immediately start preparing to spend their first family Christmas together. During their stay, each of them will hear a few choice words that will be the life raft to get them home to complete their searches to be seen and to be found.

Chapter 25 - After spending more than two weeks in Europe, Eddie, Buck and Chris are back in Los Angeles and they’re getting ready to attend Maddie and Chimney’s New Year’s Eve party. During the event, they have plans to make two surprise announcements but the question is, who’s really going to be surprised, the Diaz family or their found family at the 118?

Chapter 26 - Will be posted soon.

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Read chapters 1-25 are available on AO3.

Continue reading on AO3

[frau-wilhelm-klink]

Pls spill your ideas on Klink revealing he knew all about what Hogan was doing and just kept quiet. I need the details

Hi! Sure, I'd be happy to. As a Klink fangirl, I'm obligated to defend my man😂 For this answer, I was gonna type it all out...but then I remembered I have a fic that literally has eight different instances of it. (And this isn't a plug, it's just a lucky coincidence on my part because I'm tired.) So I took advantage of my good fortune by taking screenshots of the parts in question. All of these times are canon, and in every one, Klink has either looked the other way and/or not asked questions when he definitely should have been asking them!

To expand on this answer a little more, you have to remember that Klink is a veteran of the first World War. This is a canon fact. And as you may or may not know, there were quite a few veterans of that era who were...shall we say, less than thrilled about the regime. Klink is one of them; he's subtly expressed his distaste for Hitler in canon at least once in "The Most Escape-Proof Camp I've Ever Escaped From". (The scene in question is after he tells Hogan "We all make mistakes. Nobody's perfect." After Hogan looks rather pointedly at the picture of Hitler in the Kommandantur, Klink growls, "Except him, of course.") So we have at least two reasons why he'd support Hogan.

Another interesting fact is how every time Klink grows a backbone, it's always for the same reason - somebody is threatening to take a prisoner out of the camp, and therefore strip them of his, Klink's, protective custody. Now you might say, "Well, he's just doing his job." Which is true, but Klink's also shown to be terrified of the Gestapo/SS. He bows to their whim on everything else. If he was truly that scared of them, he would never speak up. But he does. Even Hochstetter, a man who regularly pushes Klink around despite being outranked twice over, can't threaten the POWs without our illustrious kommandant putting his jackboot down. If said prisoner is Hogan, Klink becomes even more adamant with his refusal. Why? Because he knows what's going on and knows Hogan is needed to lead the operation.

Speaking of Hogan, have you ever noticed how Klink has trusted him countless times with his very life? Hogan claims he's just "an ordinary POW" - which is obviously a lie - but yet Klink still does it. He's asked Hogan for his advice more than once. Klink's also relied on Hogan countless times to get him out of one jam or another, already knowing the colonel would find a way to do so, even if it wasn't one that was planned by the Heroes. It makes zero sense for Klink to take that risk unless he knows for a fact Hogan can get him out of Germany if worse comes to worse. You don't get to be a full bird colonel (or Oberst, if we're using the proper German term) by being stupid. Heck, even if you blame nepotism, that would only get Klink so far. And that's not even counting the amount of times Hogan has mentioned things he shouldn't know about to Klink without it being questioned how he knew them.

There's no question in my mind that he knows. Klink might wear a monocle, but he can clearly see how clever Hogan is. He's well aware the colonel is both crafty and sneaky. If he didn't, the visit from Beidenbender ("Hogan Gives a Birthday Party") stating how he, Beidenbender, was personally assigned to get inside Hogan's head would tell Klink all he needed to know. Combine the first three traits with Beidenbender stating Hogan has a tendency to overplan everything and it wouldn't be hard to connect the dots. Especially since pretty much all of the sabotage work the Heroes do is near Stalag 13...which is yet another thing that's been pointed out in canon several times by several people, including Hochstetter the stalker.

As to why Klink doesn't say anything...well, he just wants his Germany back. He doesn't want Hitler in charge any more than Schultz does. Klink turns a blind eye to everything as much as he can, although he still has to make a half-hearted attempt to question things so Hogan doesn't get suspicious. All part and parcel of being the one in command. Does he have other reasons for doing what he does? Possibly. I wouldn't be surprised at all if Klink (who would wait until the night before the Allies arrived to drop that bombshell) is hoping Hogan will protect him. As I stated earlier, Klink is a veteran of the Great War - he's old enough to remember just how hard the Allies as a whole came down on Germany in the Treaty of Versailles. It's natural he'd be skittish about trusting anyone other than Hogan with his welfare.

The thing is, Klink really can't outright say anything to Hogan. Not without running the risk of everything going to hell in a handbasket, anyway. He can't be certain how the colonel would take the news that his jailer is helping him. Klink can't openly join the resistance either; he'd be shot if he did. Instead, our kommandant fights back against the regime in the best way he knows how: quietly aiding Hogan however he can without drawing unwanted attention to himself, his camp or his prisoners.

Whew! Sorry this got so long-winded, but I'm sure you probably guessed it would be when you asked me that😂 Hope this satisfies your curiosity.

Edit: Since I've had more than one person ask me where they can read this fic, it can be found here. The title of it and link are also in the notes. I'm very flattered some of you are intrigued enough by the screenshots to take that much of an interest in my work🥰

[tswaney17]

I Do Bad Things with You - Part 41

Happy 3rd Anniversary, IDBTWY!! 🎉 I can't believe we're celebrating three years of this fic. This journey has been incredible and I'm so excited (and a little sad) to say that we are close to finishing this story. I'm very close to getting this on a regular publishing schedule. But in the meantime, please check out the art I had commissioned by the incredible SnCinder here. 💙💚💜

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Catch up here.

Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘

Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault , language, NSFW

Word Count: 12,145

It was three days before their wedding and the only thing Azriel felt was utter bliss. He couldn’t believe that in just a short time, he would have Elain as his wife. Even though they were eloping to the Summer District, they’d been head down in wedding plans over the last month.

Elain and her sisters went shopping for her dress a few weeks ago, finding—according to El—the perfect dress that didn’t require any alterations. She refused to let him see it, claiming that even though they were eloping, the rules of bad luck still applied. He had to snort at the notion, but Az would admit that not knowing what she was wearing had him curiously wondering what it would look like. He pictured many different styles in his head, all of which Elain was absolutely stunning in.

He had been in charge of the rings, Elain claiming that if he could pick out the most perfect engagement ring, then she trusted him fully to select her wedding band. His jeweler managed to match the style of her ring, adding a few extra smaller diamonds to the set. He selected a titanium, black band for himself, having Elain’s name engraved on the inside of it. Az thought the black and rose-gold colors would compliment each other well, and when he put them together, he knew he was right.

Now they were sitting on the jet, waiting for the rest of their family to arrive. Rhys and Feyre were not far behind them in getting to the airstrip. Nuala and Cerridwen—as he and Elain had decided were family—were also joining them. The Moonbeam twins picked them up from the penthouse and were also coming along, both as security and because Elain considered them like family as well. All that was left was Cassian, Nesta, and Sutton.

The new parents decided that since they could travel by private jet, they felt comfortable bringing their new baby on board—since neither of them wanted to miss their siblings getting married. When they boarded, looking slightly disheveled, they apologized for the delay, claiming Sutton was fussing and they struggled to get her to calm down.

Elain moved towards her sister, taking her niece from Nesta’s arms. “Hello, beautiful girl,” she cooed, snuggling into the baby.

Azriel watched as his fiancée’s maternal instinct took over, soothing the child when she started to fidget.

Cassian approached his side, taking in the scene between his sister and daughter. “She’s a natural mother. You’ll be eternally grateful for that instinct deeply rooted in her when you two have kids.”

He didn’t bother responding, not even knowing if Elain wanted kids. Az had been waiting for her to bring it up, but when she hadn’t even after they got engaged, he started to believe that perhaps she was happy just being an aunt. She had put so much work into her career, he wouldn’t blame her for not wanting to take away from that. Even though he had some deep desire to get Elain pregnant, to watch her grow with life inside of her, their children, he didn’t want to put that pressure on her if it wasn’t something she wanted.

So, he didn’t say anything at all, content to just live with her.

“Do you want something to drink?” he asked his brother instead.

Cash saw the change in the subject for what it was, shaking his head with a sigh, but let it go. “Sure.”

Azriel popped a bottle of champagne, serving everyone a glass aside from Nesta who declined because she was still breastfeeding and took the flute of sparkling cider in replacement.

“To the bride and groom,” Rhys announced, raising a glass.

He wrapped an arm around Elain’s waist, tucking her into his side while she held their niece in one arm and her champagne in the other. It was hard not to picture them as a little family, but he gripped that dream in a fist until it was a fleeting thought. He wanted nothing more than to marry the love of his life and wouldn’t let anything ruin it.

~~~~~

As soon as their flight landed and they arrived at the house—their entire family in disbelief at what they had purchased—everyone was tasked with something for the wedding. Meeting with the caterer, getting the arch and chairs they rented for the ceremony delivered, confirming the photographer, checking in with the florist on Elain’s bouquet, the petals that Nesta would help Sutton toss along the beach, and arrangements for the tables they were setting up on their courtyard.

There was one other thing Elain still had to do, pulling Cash aside before the rehearsal dinner.

“What’s up, Ellie?” he asked, a look of concern on his face.

Pink touched her cheeks, the only hint of her nervousness. “So, I know you’re Az’s best man, but you have been such an important part of my life. You’ve always protected me and taken care of me, especially when I felt utterly alone in the world. I was wondering—or hoping—you would walk me down the aisle tomorrow before you stand next to Azriel?”

Shock rippled across Cassian’s face. It was obvious that he had not been expecting her to ask him that. “Elain,” he said, emotion clogging his voice. “It would be my absolute honor to walk you down the aisle.” Tears lined his eyes as he pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly.

“Thank you, Cash,” she murmured, trying and failing to hold back her tears.

That night, Azriel and the other men stayed in the guest house, giving the main one to the girls.

“No strippers, boys,” she said as they tugged Az away from her.

“The same could be said for you,” Rhys called out, giving her a wink.

Her fiancé growled, slapping his brother up the side of his head.

Elain laughed. “Believe me, the only man I want to see stripping is staying with you.”

“I’m happily taken, Ellie!” Cash called out flashing the cheekiest of grins.

She could only shake her head at their antics, returning to the main house where the girls were waiting for her with drinks, games, and a bride-sash.

“Since we didn’t have time to host a bridal shower and bachelorette party beforehand, we’re improvising,” Feyre announced, throwing the sash over her head and guiding her to the living room where they had decorated for their little party.

The whole night was perfect, celebrating her final night as an unmarried woman.

The next day was filled with a flurry of commotion, everyone getting ready for the wedding. Feyre had stuck Elain in a chair and was painting magic on her face while Nuala and Cerridwen worked on her hair, curling it into gorgeous beach waves and tying half it up into a knot at the crown of her head. They wove flowers into the knot atop her head and behind her ear.

When she looked in the mirror, Elain gasped. It was beyond stunning the work they had done on her. “Thank you,” she whispered, trying to hold back her tears so she didn’t ruin her makeup. “All of you. I’m so grateful to have you all here with me.”

“There’s nowhere else we’d rather be, Ellie,” Nesta told her, hugging her from the back. “Come on, let’s get your dress on.” Her sister walked over to the garment bag and unzipped it.

Untying her white robe, Elain slipped on the dress behind the partition, coming out only to have help buttoning up the back. The dress was simply gorgeous. The bodice was made up of floral lace, plunging to just above her belly button while keeping her modestly covered. Delicate, thin straps of the same floral pattern went over her shoulders to the scooped back. The tulle skirt gathered at her waist, adding a layer over the lace skirt that sucked into her legs. It gave her this gorgeous silhouette under the gown.

Elain would go barefoot for the ceremony on the beach, wearing jeweled barefoot sandals that hooked over her middle toe and around her ankle. She had a pair of white heels she’d put on for the reception in the courtyard, once she was back on solid ground.

She slipped on the halo sapphire and diamond earrings that Azriel had gifted to her for her birthday—the only jewelry she wore aside from her engagement ring. They were one of her something blue, the other a cobalt garter in testament to Az’s favorite color. Grabbing the perfume she bought specifically for the wedding, Elain gave herself a few sprits, letting the delicate jasmine scent wash over her before making her way downstairs to the living area where Feyre, Nesta carrying Sutton, and Cash were waiting for her.

“Elain,” Cassian said her name with such reverence that she almost broke down right there. “You look so beautiful.”

Her pink lips pulled up into a joyous smile. “Thank you, Cash.” She hugged him, careful not to smudge her makeup on his suit jacket.

“Ready?” Feyre asked, handing her the blush-colored bouquet of peonies. The florist had done a stellar job with the bridal bouquets and centerpieces for the table.

“I’ve never been more ready for anything,” she said. Elain had waited for a decade to marry Azriel. Her excitement to finally get the chance left her breathless.

Though Feyre was Elain’s maid of honor, she walked down the aisle first since Nesta was carrying the flower girl.

Elain watched her sisters walk through the courtyard, out to the beach where they had set up the arch, decorated with more flowers. Where Azriel awaited her.

Cassian helped her out the door, holding a bit of her dress for her so it didn’t drag too much until they reached the edge of the courtyard and waited for the queue with the change of the music.

Elain and Azriel had picked strictly piano pieces to use for their ceremony and reception. It was fitting to them since that was how he proposed and they spent countless hours listening and him playing it.

Her brother fixed her dress one last time before offering her his arm. “Thank you for choosing him,” he said so quietly she almost missed it.

She furrowed her brow looking up at him, waiting for him to continue.

“I always worried that Azriel would never find happiness after high school. I watched my brother enter this cruel world intending to own it, even if it destroyed him in the very process. I thought I was going to lose him for a while…He’d been so depressed, I worried for his life.” Those pain-filled eyes looked down at her.

She knew Az had some internal struggles, but she didn’t know how bad it was. It broke her heart to hear that Cassian had feared for Az’s life.

“The one thing he never lost was his love for you,” he continued, likely noticing her inner sorrow, but needing to tell her this anyways. “And I’m so thankful that you forgave him for his past mistakes. The only time I ever saw Azriel happy was when he was with you, Elain. You are the world in which he revolves around. His entire being is to keep you safe and to love you, unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before.

“Thank you for loving him in the way he deserves but never letting himself have.” Cassian’s eyes misted over by the time he finished and she struggled to not let herself cry at the confession.

“He is worth loving,” she admitted, looking out towards the beach like she could see him from where she stood.

“That he is,” Cassian murmured as the music changed, indicating it was time.

The few steps to the beach seemed like a lifetime until she turned the corner and saw him standing at the altar, waiting for her.

Even this far away, she could hear his choked sound at the sight of her. His face crumpled in elation as he wiped tears from under his eyes.

Elain’s hold on her damn broke and she let out a sob, face splitting in the most adoring grin. Only Cassian’s firm grip on her arm prevented her from running down the aisle and leaping into his arms.

After what felt like an eternity, Cassian was leaning over to kiss her cheek, and offering her hand to Azriel before taking his place at his side.

She handed off her bouquet to Feyre so she could take his hands.

Unable to help himself, Az leaned forward to brush his lips on her cheek before he gently pulled her forward until she was facing him. “You look…” he paused, silver-lined eyes scanning her from head to toe. “I have no words to describe how exquisite you look, El. You’re radiant.”

She choked on her laugh, her face morphing into actual rays of sunshine. “Thank you, Az. You look beautiful, too.” And she meant it. He had on a brand-new suit, cut to every defined muscle. He wore a crisp, white button-up underneath the jacket with a blush-colored tie around his neck. Even the peony boutonnière contrasted perfectly with his tanned complexion.

Rhys cleared his throat, recapturing their attention. He gave them a knowing smile. “It brings me great joy to officiate the wedding between Azriel Knight and Elain Archeron. Azriel, my brother, you have been a part of my family since we were kids. Though our relationship started rocky—”

“You beat the snot out of me that first night,” Az muttered making everyone laugh.

Their brother waved a hand. “Semantics. It didn’t take us long to warm up to each other, finding that brotherly bond we both needed. I’m grateful every day that we took you in—that we became family.”

Those violet eyes turned to her. “Elain, my darling Elain. You have always been like a little sister to me. Even before Feyre and I started dating and later got married, you’ve held this special place in my heart to love, to protect. When you and Azriel began dating in high school, I was ecstatic because I always hoped you would one day become a part of my family. And you’re now a part of it in more ways than one.”

She released one of Az’s hands to grip Rhys’s forearm, squeezing it once before returning it to her fiancé. 

“I’ve never met two people more perfect for each other. Where one hides in the shadows, the other shines. You two lift each other up in the best of ways and I have no doubt in my mind you will build the most perfect life together. I believe you both wrote your vows. Elain, if you would please go ahead.”

Her brown eyes, reflecting pools of gold in the setting sunlight looked at her husband-to-be. “Azriel, you are the strongest, most considerate man I have ever known. Our love has definitely been tested to limits that most couples never experience, but I know that makes us more solid in the foundations of our marriage.” He chuckled at how true it was. “I know that when in moments of hopelessness, you will lend me your strength. In times of sorrow, you will give me your love. When the world around me becomes too loud, you will hold me close and protect me.

“You are so many things that it sometimes makes my head spin because how could you possibly be every dream I wished for myself to find in a lover? You have broken down every fear; every mark on my life and filled it with joy. I will love you with my entire being because you deserve that from me. You deserve to feel my elation in the life we have created together. I love you more than words could ever express. My life partner. My friend. My soulmate. My husband.” Tears rolled down her cheek and he reached out, swiping them away, ignoring how his face was also wet from waterworks.

Rhys turned to his brother. “Azriel, would you please say your vows?”

He took a steadying breath. “Fuck, I should’ve gone first,” he said quietly to her.

She couldn’t help but tip her head back and laugh.

“Elain Archeron.” Her name curled on his tongue. “You are, without a doubt, the light of my life. A decade ago, I made the biggest mistake of my life by letting you go and the gods know I didn’t deserve your forgiveness for it, but you gave it to me anyways. I sometimes have to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming. To verify you’re actually here with me.” She squeezed his hands in reassurance. “You have the most generous heart I have ever seen; have ever had the pleasure of being held within.

“You claim that I am strong, but my strength comes from you. Your resilience is unparallel. You have made me a better man, one who will love you faithfully even after we are but dust in the wind. I promise to share my life with you. To hold you in times of need and when you require a sturdy presence. I promise to help you pursue your dreams. To take you on adventures and everything else your heart desires. I consider myself the luckiest person in the world to get to call you mine. My light. My heart. My love. My wife.”

Rhys had to wipe a tear from his eye, clearing his throat to rein in the emotion he was feeling. “May I have the rings?”

Cassian slipped behind Azriel to hand his other brother the two rings.

Rhys handed them each one. “Elain, do you take Azriel to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold? In sickness and in health? From now and forever?”

“I do,” she said, sliding the black band onto his scarred ring finger.

“And do you, Azriel, take Elain to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold? In sickness and in health? From now and forever?”

Az’s dazzling smile lit up the world around them. “I do.” He slipped the beautiful rose gold band onto her delicate finger.

Rhys clapped his hands together. “Well, thank god for that!” he teased. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

The powerful male in front of her stepped forward, slinking one hand around her waist, the other cradling her head, and pressed his lips on hers.

Elain felt her back arch as he leaned them over, gently prying her mouth open so his tongue could slip inside. The kiss was languid like they took the time to learn about each other as husband and wife. Her fingers went to his nape, ruffling the hair there.

Time slowed as if even the world paused for that kiss. The kiss that certified them as one. A unit. And when they finally broke apart, when the sounds of their family’s cheers entered their ears, neither could look away from the other. An unbreakable chain linked between their souls, connecting them in the most intrinsic of ways.

He was hers and she was his. Now and forever.

“I love you, Elain,” he whispered, bringing her back in for another kiss, arms going around her lithe body to lift her off the ground.

She erupted into a fit of giggles, eyes shining with more tears, with love, with devotion for the man in front of her.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present for the very first time, Mr. and Mrs. Azriel and Elain Archeron-Knight!”

Grabbing her bouquet, she took Azriel’s hand as they walked back down the aisle toward the house. But about halfway back, he leaned down and lifted her over his shoulder, making her squeal. “Azriel!” she shouted, laughter echoing around them. “Put me down!”

He hauled her over his body until he was carrying her bridal style. “No,” he grinned, leaning forward to kiss her as he made the trek back into the courtyard.

Elain welcomed the kiss, wrapping her arms and the bouquet around the backside of his head and holding him there for a few extra seconds. The flash of the photographer lit up their bodies, but they didn’t care as they just held each other’s stare. She traced her index finger over his cheek. “Hi husband,” she whispered shyly.

His smile was too infectious to not beam back at him. It made him look so young, boyish. “My wife,” he murmured, nudging his nose into hers. Azriel set her back on her feet, pulling her close and never letting go.

~~~

Azriel was her husband. Elain couldn’t believe that after everything they’d been through—waiting a decade for this moment—it was finally here. Everything about this moment was completely different from anything she ever shared with Graysen.

Graysen’s priority had always been himself. She didn’t even think she was in his top five important things in his life. Their entire relationship had been based on their fathers’ friendship and a setup—and she had just let it go on, not really living, but simply existing.

It was nothing like the life, the love, she’d built with Azriel. This had been wholly hers. Her decision, her choices, her life.

They’d only been married for a few hours and she couldn’t help but think of how well it suited him. He couldn’t keep his hands off her (more than he normally couldn’t). Taking her hand in his large one, setting one on her thigh while they ate, tugging her onto the makeshift dance floor by the edge of the pool. Whatever they were doing, he couldn’t seem to let her go.

And she had no desire for him to stop. Currently, she was tucked into his arms under the twinkling lights as they swayed to the soft piano music. Her hand was curled in his, head resting on his chest as she listened to his thundering heartbeat.

Every once in a while, she’d let out a contented sigh and found herself somehow melting further into his embrace. He tucked her under his chin, giving him ample opportunities to lean down and press his lips to the crown of her head.

Elain had wrapped her arm around his waist, sliding it under his suit jacket so her palm laid on the backside of his button-up. Her fingers would flex, pressing the pads of them into the strong muscles of his back.

It was late evening. Nesta retired to the house earlier, taking a sleeping Sutton to lay her down, and never returned. Cassian followed shortly after, looking for his wife, and if Elain had to guess, found her asleep still in her dress.

Fenrys and Connall had sat with Cerridwen and Nuala on the porch patio and were chatting. Had been nearly all evening, but not before each of them took her and Azriel for a round on the dancefloor.

Her other sister and husband were twirling next to them, enjoying the soft sounds of the night around them.

Azriel pressed his lips to the top of her head again. “Would you like to head in now?” he asked her quietly.

Elain tipped her face up, a beautiful smile painted on her pink lips. “Sure.”

He gave her a soft kiss before leading her not to the main house, but to the adjacent one. She looked at him with confusion when he glanced over his shoulder at her. “I thought we could take the guest house tonight, so we don’t have to worry about anyone overhearing us.”

A cheeky smile threatened to turn up her mouth. “Azriel Archeron-Knight, are you trying to get into my skirt?” she teased, giggling.

He flashed her a heated look. “Always.” And then swung open the door.

Elain couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped her, taking a single step forward. But before she could even get to the doorway, she was scooped up into his arms and carried over the threshold. She squealed in delight, wrapping her arms around his neck as he carried her in, kicking the door shut behind him.

The whole place was lit up with candles. Rose petals littered the floor, leading up the stairs and, what she assumed would be into a bedroom.

“Az,” she cried, eyes wide in astonishment. “Did you do this?” she asked as he set her back on her feet.

His hands came down onto her shoulders, thumbs swooping over the bare skin. “I had some help,” he admitted. “After our poker game last night, the guys helped me set up the candles. Nuala and Cer came in during the reception to sprinkle the rose petals and light everything.”

“It’s beautiful,” she told him. And it was, completely and totally romantic. Turning to face him, she kissed him hard. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, stroking his.

Azriel gripped her rear end, molding the flesh to his scarred palms and making her whimper. He sucked her bottom lip between his teeth, the sensation pulling a heeding sound from her throat. Breaking off the kiss, Az took her hand and led her up the stairs toward the bedroom.

The bed wasn’t their usual size, but Elain had no doubt he could worship her like how she imagined he would.

Taking his phone from his pocket, Az turned on the same music they had playing all evening.

Her lips quirked up in the corner. “Setting the mood?”

He chuckled. “Something like that.” Azriel flicked his wrist in a circular motion. “Turn around.”

She did as requested, turning to give him access to her back.

His fingers slid into her thick, soft hair, plucking the loose flowers from her locks. He pulled the pin from her knot, letting the rest of her hair drape down her back. Gently, those scarred fingers grazed over her scalp, massaging.

Elain hummed in pleasure.

Azriel swept her hair over her shoulder, giving him access to the line of buttons that ran down her spine. He took his time opening each one, kissing at the patch of creamy skin it revealed as he went until he reached the final one just above the swell of her ass. “May I?” he asked her, fingering the delicate straps.

She nodded. “Please.”

Azriel slowly dragged her dress down her body, offering his shoulder to help her step out of it. His eyes dragged over every inch of the white lingerie she wore, all the way down to the cobalt-colored garter that adorned her luscious thigh. “Fuck me, Elain,” he groaned, moving to hang her dress up before turning to look back at her.

She appreciated he took extra care to hang her dress so it wouldn’t get ruined. Flashing him with a mirthful smile, she said, “I plan to.”

His long, powerful legs swallowed the space between them in two single strides as he crashed their lips together, nudging her toward the bed and carefully laying her down on top of it. He kissed her deeply, with long, sensual strokes from his tongue until their mouths were bruised and swollen. His hands swept over her body, feeling the texture of the lace. “I believe I was supposed to take this off with my teeth,” he mumbled against her lips, thumbing the garter.

He kissed down her body, in the valley between her breasts, over the soft swell of her tummy, across her hip, and down her thigh to where the garter sat, leaving little marks as he went. She squirmed under his machinations, but he didn’t let up, taking his time with each place he sucked a bruise onto. His teeth clamped down on the frilly fabric, slowly dragging it down her knee, her calf, and off her foot, tossing it over his shoulder.

She laughed at the audacity of it.

Gripping her hips, he made his way back up her body, only stopping at her neck to lick and suck at her delicate skin.

Elain’s fingers got to work, shoving his jacket off his shoulders, followed by his tie from around his neck, but he stopped her from tossing it on the floor.

Taking the silk fabric, he smirked, telling her, “We’ll save this for later,” and set it aside on the bed.

Heat pooled between her legs at the promise. As of now, he had yet to tie her up, but Elain wouldn’t lie and say the idea hadn’t crossed her mind. To be immobilized by him and only him made her blood heat.

Sensing her growing need, he rolled his hips into hers, giving her just a taste of what was to come.

Azriel didn’t seem to know where to touch her first, so he kept his hands moving in possessive little touches across her body. Pinching her nipples, gripping her hips, spreading her lush thighs apart so he could settle more firmly into their cradle. No matter what he did, it just made her ache for him.

She needed to feel him. Feel his skin on hers, sliding against the lace of her lingerie. “Az,” she whined. “Take it off, please. I want to feel you.” Elain pushed at his shirt, trying to unbutton it.

He obliged her, rising to shed his button-up, and then flicked open his belt to strip out of his pants. Az seemed to care much less about his expensive suit than her dress, tossing the garments onto the floor. In his boxers only, he crawled over her.

Her hands scratched at his skin, sliding up his sides to hook around his shoulders. Elain prided herself in knowing his body thoroughly. She knew every scar, every ridge, every whorl of ink. So, when he lay back on top of her, she immediately noticed something new on his chest.

“You look so fucking beautiful, Elain,” he groaned into her neck, sucking on her pulse point.

But her hands were on his shoulders, pushing him up to get a better look at whatever he had added to his chest. Her eyes went wide in shock, finger tracing the new whorl of ink on his pectoral, right over his heart. Because, holy fuck, that was her name he added. “When did you get this?” she asked, her eyes flicking up to his in wonderment.

A smile curved up the corner of his mouth. “A few days ago.” Which, kind of explained why she hadn’t seen it since they agreed to hold off on sex the past week to make tonight more special. And why he wore a T-shirt to bed the last few nights.

“It’s my handwriting,” she deadpanned. How did he have this perfectly done?

A blush heated his cheeks as he looked down at her with such love and devotion, she felt it in the very marrow of her bones. “I took a photo of your signature on our marriage license and sent it to the artist to create a stencil. I wanted your essence imprinted on me forever. Your handwriting, your name, permanently marked over my heart where you belong.”

Elain was desperately trying to swallow the emotion that had choked her. This man. This wonderful, incredible, selfless man tattooed her name on his body to always keep her close to his heart. She didn’t think she could love him any more than she already did, but he continuously proved her wrong.

Leaning her head forward, she kissed him right over that ink, then cupped his face in her palms; let her thumbs trace lightly over the apples of his cheeks. “Make love to me, Azriel.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, taking her hands from his face and lacing their fingers together by the side of her head. He sucked and licked the soft swells of her breasts, plumped up from the lingerie she was still wearing. His mouth attached to her nipple through the lacy fabric, pulling the point deep into his mouth until her back arched.

She raised her hips, rubbing them together. The wet spot on her panties would’ve told him just how desperate she was for him. It matched the one on his boxer briefs.

Az released her hands to work on the straps of her lingerie, pulling the white lace off her until she was completely bare before him. His thumb gently stroked her slit, grazing her clit just so, sending bolts of pleasure through her body.

Elain’s fingers slid into his dark locks, mussing them as she tugged him closer to where she needed him.

“Tell me what you want me to do, El,” he groaned, sliding his nose into the crease of her thigh.

A hot, needy sound tumbled from her throat, but she said the words that she knew would elicit actions. “Feast, husband.”

He growled, lapping at her entrance before plunging his tongue inside of her. He licked and slurped at her like she was the last thing he’d ever eat. It felt so good, she was nearly delirious with pleasure. Sliding two fingers into her, he pumped slowly, stretching her. “You’re so fucking close already, I can feel you quivering around my hand.”

Elain threw her head back, eyes squeezed shut as she focused on the pull, deep in her gut. Her hips undulated into him and she tugged his head down to where she needed him. Wanted him. “Please, Az,” she cried.

Knowing exactly what she was asking for, he sucked her clit between his teeth, finally drawing her to the brink, and pushing her off.

Elain shattered on his tongue, screaming out his name and tightening her grip on his hair hard enough that he groaned against her, the vibrations sending her spiraling.

He didn’t stop until she went limp, licking every drop she gave him. Azriel looked up at her from between her legs, her release dripping off his lips, and fuck, did the sight have her body trembling for more.

Using his hair as leverage, she pulled him up her body until she could kiss him. Elain moaned at the taste of herself on his tongue.

Brushing hair off her forehead, he smiled down at her. “Hi, wife.”

Those words made butterflies erupt in her stomach, her heart pounding against her ribcage. Azriel could’ve made his vow to her from that look alone, with so much love and longing, Elain knew he was feeling the same emotions as she was.

She reached down, cupping him in her small palm and earning a hiss as he pumped into her hand.

“Still need more from me?” he teased.

“I need everything from you.”

Heat flashed in his eyes. Crawling off her, he stripped out of his boxers, that last piece of clothing between them, then resituated himself between her legs. Azriel rubbed himself over her drenched slit, coating him in her release and adding friction to her clit.

Elain’s head tipped back as a moan crested from her lips.

He took advantage of the exposed skin, attaching his mouth to her neck and sucking a bruising mark into her skin. She loved his love bites, loved when he covered her in his marks like he was staking a claim.

Blindly reaching, Az grabbed the tie from the other side of the bed and held it between them. “Do you trust me?”

The corner of Elain’s lips quirked up. “A little late asking me that since I just married you.”

He pinched her butt cheek in reprimand making her squeal.

“Yes, of course, I trust you.”

“Give me your hands.” It was a soft command, but she listened, bringing her palms forward and presenting them to him. Azriel wrapped the small end of his tie around her, binding her arms together at her wrists with the soft silk. “Is that too tight?” he asked, sliding a finger under the fabric.

She shook her head. “No.”

He kissed her fingers. “If you become uncomfortable at all, tell me.” And then he pushed her arms above her head. “Don’t move these.”

Elain felt herself shudder, stretching out her body as he leaned over her again, mouth going straight for her neck. Her husband’s neck kink was out in full force that night and she loved every bite, every swipe of his tongue on the sensitive skin.

His hips rutted into her, sliding himself through her lower lips and coating his cock with her arousal.

It was heavenly. From the sensual tug of his teeth and the friction he applied between her legs, Elain felt herself slicken even further. “Azriel,” she groaned, arms aching to go around his neck but remaining still above her head. “Please. I need you inside me.”

Grabbing her plump thigh, he hefted it onto his shoulder, splitting her open. The head of his cock nudged at her entrance before he rolled his hips, sliding into her with ease.

Her back arched as he entered her, his grunts of pleasure from her clenching around him only enticed her further.

“El, fucking hell. If you keep doing that, I’m going to come before I’m even seated,” he complained, lips pulling her pert nipple into his mouth and sucking.

She couldn’t stop the cry from escaping her as he filled her to the brim. His cock sheathed in her warm heat was better than any feeling. She couldn’t explain how the fullness made her whimper from pleasure but also feel at home at the same time. Elain wrapped her other leg around his hips, urging him to move.

And move he did. Long, slow thrusts had her seeing stars when he hit that spot deep inside her. Everything he gave her was measured, from how far he pulled out, to how fast he pushed himself into her.

She needed him harder. Deeper. “Fuck me, Azriel. Like you mean it,” she growled.

His teeth bit down on her nipple in reprimand and, fuck, did she feel it everywhere. Pain mixed with pleasure. But he did as she demanded, snapping his hips into hers and building her up, up, up until she teetered on the edge of her pleasure.

He released her nipple, lips traveling up her jaw to find her own as he thrust into her again. Az grabbed the large end of his tie, wrapped it around his hand, and pinned it to the wall as he fucked her harder, the headboard slamming into the plaster with enough force to leave a dent.

But she didn’t care. She didn’t care about the goddamn wall, or how her arms ached, or that their family might hear them if they were still outside. All she cared about was the wonderful, delicious feeling that grew low in her belly.

Azriel’s tongue licked up her neck, sucking her delicate skin. He angled his hips up to catch her clit with every thrust. It was what she needed to send her shattering into a million little pieces.

Elain’s cries were smothered by his mouth like he wanted to swallow every sound she made.

It only took a few more thrusts before he careened into his orgasm, spilling himself deep inside her, her body milking him.

Azriel collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily into her neck as she fought to catch her own. He brought his arm down, pulling her hands until he could slip his head between her arms. She carded her fingers through his damp hair, scratching at his scalp. He hummed in contentment.

They lay there for a while, snuggled into each other’s embrace, Elain brushing her lips on the top of his head.

After a few moments, he was tugging himself out of her sensitive center, kissing the wince away before sliding out of her arms and sitting up. Az carefully untied her silk from her wrists, dropping, even more, kisses to where they had been bound. “How was that?”

She hummed, a soft smile painted on her lips as she circled her free wrists. “That was better than amazing.”

“Better than amazing, hmm?” he murmured, nudging his nose into her cheek.

Affectionate Azriel was one of her favorites—his need for physical touch after they had sex always led to some cuddling. So, she was quite surprised when he began climbing off her. “Where are you going?” she complained, reaching out for him, but her weary arm fell to the mattress with a thud.

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss her lips once more. “I’ll be right back.” Azriel walked over to his suitcase, sitting in the corner of the room.

Elain rolled onto her side, propping her head on her fist, and watched him stoop down. “Nice ass, husband.”

Her comment had him laughing, deep and full-bellied. He glanced over his shoulder at her, humor dancing in those dark eyes. Grabbing whatever he needed from his bag, he walked back over to her with a mischievous grin. “Since this is our wedding night, I thought we could make it traditional in that we take your last virginity.”

She raised a brow. “Virginity? Az, what are you talking—” Elain paused, taking in the items he presented to her in his palms. The pink vibrator, a tube of lube, and a plug were cradled in his hands. “You want to take my ass?” she asked in disbelief.

“You make it sound so dirty,” he snickered, kneeling on the bed. “And only if you want to. I know we’ve discussed it lightly before, but I brought everything we’d need if you want to explore it.”

Pink rushed to her cheeks, dripping down her chest. She’d be lying if she said the idea hadn’t prickled her curious mind. Whenever he touched her there, her pleasure always intensified. It felt so forbidden, but so right at the same time. Her eyes traveled from the items still in his palms back to his face. “Okay,” she breathed.

Setting everything on the bed, he kissed her belly, smiling into her skin. “My good girl,” he murmured, the words igniting something inside her. “On your knees.”

Elain rolled over, rising onto all fours. Her stomach clenched in anticipation.

Az placed another kiss at the bottom of her spine, kneading her behind. “You have less give back here, so we’re going to take this nice and slow. But I need you to tell me when it’s getting close to being too much to handle, and when you’ve reached your limit. We don’t go past anything that you’re uncomfortable with. Okay?”

She nodded, flipping her hair over her shoulder to look back at him. “I understand.”

“Good girl. We’ll start with my fingers to get you stretched, then I’m going to try and insert this plug.” He leaned over her to show her the plug again. Elain ran a finger over the cool metal. “First off,” he started, setting the plug back on the bed, “we need to get you stimulated.” Azriel slid two fingers inside of her, wetting them with their combined releases.

Elain moaned as he thrust into her, filling her, stretching her. Pulling his digits from her cunt, her body clenching around nothing, he then slowly inserted the toy. They had only played with it a few times, but it had become one of her favorite things to pull out when they got hot and heavy. She waited in baited silence for that first vibration, jolting at the first flick from his fingers on his phone. Hips stuttering, she bowed her head, moaning.

“Easy, love,” he murmured, stroking up to her rosebud. Az worked her opening with his two fingers. The squeeze was tight, but then she felt him add a generous amount of lube, slickening her hole and allowing him to slip in both digits to his knuckle.

She whimpered, rocking back onto his hand. The sensation of his fingers pumping in and out of her, the vibrations from the toy in her pussy had her sprinting towards her next orgasm.

But as soon as he felt her crest, Az pulled out of her behind.

Elain was close to crying out when she felt the plug being pushed into her gaping back hole. Holy fuck, the plug was larger than his two fingers. She whimpered as her body stretched to accommodate the toy, bordering on painful.

“You’re doing so well, my good girl. Breathe, love.”

She took shallow breaths, eyes screwing shut. “Az,” Elain cried out his name. “It hurts.” Her fingers tightened on the sheets beneath her palms.

Immediately he pulled back slightly, giving her body some relief. “Do you want to stop, Elain?”

Did she want to stop? No—she didn’t. Elain wanted this. “No,” she breathed, head bowing. “Just give me a second.”

He kissed her sweaty back, reaching between her legs her to lazily rub at her clit.

“How much further until the plug is seated?” she panted, glancing over her shoulder at him.

Azriel’s burning gaze was already on her face, the hunger she saw nearly made her quiver. “About a half inch until you reach the jewel. Once it’s in, it shouldn’t hurt anymore.”

Elain swallowed, nodding. “Okay, go ahead.”

“Are you sure, El? We don’t have to do this.”

She reached back, grabbed his knee—the only thing she could grasp—and squeezed it. “I’m okay. I want to continue.”

Adding more lube to her back entrance, he continued, twisting the plug back and forth to add to the pleasurable sensation.

The break was exactly what her body needed, because, after another moment or two, Elain felt the plug settle into her ass. She moaned, toes curling at feeling so full.

“Good fucking girl,” Az groaned, circling her clit with his fingers. “You did so well, my love. Let’s get you to come, shall we?” Kicking up the vibrator, he gently tugged on the plug, not pulling it out but giving her a sensation of a thrust.

Her body shook, teetering on the edge of her orgasm. “Az, I’m so close. Please, please.” Tears rolled down her cheeks from the pleasure she felt. That deep pull in her backside, the vibrations. Everything inside her was pulled taut and ready to snap. So, when he twisted the plug, Elain shattered in a way she had never done before.

She screamed, her body quaking around everything. Wetness poured out from around the vibrator, coating her thighs. Unable to hold herself up anymore, she collapsed, face first, into her pillow, forcing Azriel to let go of the plug lest he accidentally pull it out of her.

Elain shook, and shook, and shook, the aftershocks of her orgasm running up and down her spine like ocean waves crashing along the shore.

His body sidled up behind her, tugging her limp form into his arms to whisper words of comfort into her hair.

“Turn it off,” she panted, the stimulation overwhelming enough that it was too much.

He moved quickly, releasing her to sit up and grab his phone.

Elain whimpered when the toy was switched off, her sensitive center aching. She was gathered back into his arms, her back pressed into his chest. His hard cock was digging into her backside, thankfully not adding any pressure to the plug.

She panted heavily, her entire body unnaturally boneless. It almost felt like she was hovering just outside of her physical form, not quite drifting back down from her high.

Azriel ran his scarred hands over her curves, soothing her to finally come back to him. he planted kisses on her shoulder, her neck, wherever he could reach with his mouth while keeping her secure in his embrace. “I’m here, El. Just breathe,” he murmured into her hair, making sure she could feel his presence.

It could’ve been minutes or hours before she finally collected enough pieces of herself to twist her neck and look at him over her shoulder.

A dopey smile was on his face at her blissed-out state. “Hello, love,” he whispered, gently kissing her lips.

“How long have we been laying here?” she asked, genuinely curious if she passed out.

He kissed her cheek. “About fifteen minutes.”

That had her blinking. She’d been out of it for fifteen minutes? Holy fuck.

His low chuckle had her eyes snapping back to his. “That was a rather intense orgasm for you. It’ll take a while for you to come down from it,” Az explained, reaching over her to cup the side of her cheek. His thumb swooped over her skin and she couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “How are you feeling?”

How did she feel? Elain wasn’t quite sure she could explain it, to be honest, but she tried anyways. “I feel—” she weighed her words, trying to find the best ones, “light, I suppose is a good way to put it. Like I drifted out of my body.”

“Did you enjoy it?” Of course, he would ask her that.

“It was overwhelming, but yes, I enjoyed it. A lot. I’ve never felt anything like that before.” Elain reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together. “Just give me a couple more minutes and then we can continue.”

He squeezed her palm. “Baby, we don’t need to go any further tonight. You’ve already been through a lot and I don’t want you pushing it—”

“I’m not, Az,” she interrupted him. “I want to try it with you. I’ve got one more in me tonight, but that’s it. And I want to share it with you.”

It was obvious he wanted to protest, but she didn’t let him. “You’ve only come once tonight. I want to be the reason you do it again. Please, Az. Just try. I’ll tell you if I can’t handle it.”

Scarred fingers brushed her hair behind her ear. “Okay, let me go get a towel before we attempt to pull the plug out.” He dropped another kiss on her shoulder. “I’ll be right back.” Sliding off the bed, Azriel padded to the bathroom, bringing back two bath towels.

She watched him place one at the end of the bed, and then unfolded the other, sliding it partially under her hips.

At her questioning look, he told her, “It might get a little messy and I’d rather not have to change the sheets tonight when we’re finished.”

“You’re not going to put me on my knees again?”

He resumed his position behind her. “No, I don’t think you have the energy for that right now. So, I’ll take you like this.” Propping her knee up, he traced the pads of his fingers over her hip, sliding until her could toy with her clit, lightly circling it. “Tell me when you’re ready. I’ll put the vibrator back on but will keep it low.”

Elain took a steadying breath. He was right, she didn’t have the energy to keep herself upright and she was incredibly thankful that Az could read her body better than she could. “I’m ready,” she said with conviction.

His thick arm slid under her waist, coming up to cup her breast, pinching her nipple just enough to send bolts of pleasure through her body.

She whimpered, pressing herself further into the cradle of his hips.

“Touch yourself for me,” he ordered, taking her hand when she brought it between her legs and showing her just how much pressure to apply. “Good girl. Just like that.” Releasing her, he reached back for his phone, kicking on the vibrator to a low setting.

Elain sucked in a breath, her body still slick with her arousal. When she felt the twisting on the plug, she couldn’t stop the low moan from escaping her throat.

“You’re doing so well, love. Just breathe for me. Nice and slow.”

Doing as he told her, she inhaled slowly, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth as he carefully pulled the plug from her ass. As soon as it was gone, Elain whined, her body clenching around the open air.

Azriel cursed into her shoulder, applying lube to his hard cock. “Your body is begging for me, love,” he groaned, nudging the head at her back hole. He grabbed her thigh, hauling her bent leg into the air and exposing her to the cool air. “Tell me when you need me to stop.”

She didn’t. Elain relaxed her body as best as she could, taking him inch by glorious inch as he rocked himself into her. She reached back, gripping his hair at the scalp and holding him into her neck while he sunk deeper and deeper until she felt her rear end pressed into the cradle of his hips.

“Fuck, El,” he moaned. “You’re so fucking tight.”

Elain couldn’t form words. She was delirious with pleasure, edged with pain, and everything in between. It was life-altering, how full she felt with his cock buried into her ass. Nothing could compare to how good it felt to have him like this.

When he started to move, the only sounds she could form were heavy breaths and low moans. Her mind was a kaleidoscope of color as he thrust into her, his fingers digging into the back of her knee, holding her open for him.

His strokes were measured and deep, sliding nearly all the way out, and pushing in until he hit a spot inside her that had her gasping every time.

She needed more. She needed it faster. She needed to come. “Harder, Az,” she cried out, her face burying into her shoulder.

He picked up the pace, snapping his hips into her, his mouth latching itself onto her the back of her shoulder.

Oh, gods. Oh, gods, it was so good. Her hand left her clit to clutch the edge of her pillow, but he quickly replaced it, releasing her breast to slide his fingers down between her legs, tightening his circles on her.

Elain sobbed in pleasure, climbing higher and higher. It was too much. It wasn’t enough. She couldn’t think straight. Her name…what was it? Oh, fuck, he felt so good. She had no idea it could feel like this. “So good,” she moaned pathetically. Her body had turned to putty beneath his careful hands and his hard cock. Another whimper passed between her parted lips as she climbed up to the top of her orgasms, teetering on the edge of something she’d never felt before.

Azriel brushed his mouth to the shell of her ear. “I’ve got you, baby. Let go for me.”

His gruff words were her undoing as Elain dove headfirst into the largest orgasm she’d ever experienced. She squeezed the hair between her fingers, hard enough that he grunted into her neck, but she didn’t let go—couldn’t let go as she fell, fell, fell, all while he fucked her ass harder and faster, prolonging her pleasure.

Her face was soaked with tears, body pulsing around his cock.

It only took another thrust or so before Azriel came with a shout, pushing himself as deep into her as he could go to spill inside of her, claiming her ass as his. Her body convulsed around him, taking everything he offered her and more.

The sweat between their bodies rolled over her skin, but she didn’t care. She was too far lost in her mind to worry about anything but how incredible she felt.

His hot breath panted over her shoulder as he gently laid her leg over her body, keeping her knee still bent. Grabbing his phone, he switched off the vibrator. Az gave her a while to catch her breath, before he murmured into her ear, “I’m going to pull everything out. Slow breaths, love.” The words rattled in her skull but didn’t fully register. She was too lost in the sensations.

Bringing her leg back up, he reached between her thighs and gently tugged out the toy. It didn’t stop the whimper from escaping her lips.

“Easy, baby. We’re almost finished,” he whispered, his voice velvety soft and covering her like a warm blanket.

Removing himself from her behind was another story. Her body clamped onto him, causing her to cry out from her sensitive hole.

He slowed his movements, stroking her hips soothingly. “Relax, El. I need you to relax.” His hands gently swept over her body, helping her body come down.

She did, inhaling deeply until he managed to pull himself free. Elain felt incredibly empty without him in her, missing it already, but was too exhausted for anything else tonight.

Azriel pulled himself from behind her, leaning over her body to kiss her cheek. “Don’t fall asleep. We need to clean up first. I’m going to start the bath.” Gripping her chin, he turned her head and dropped a kiss on her swollen lips, smiling down at her before padding into the bathroom.

Elain heard the water turn on and then him rummaging through the drawers, looking for something if she had to guess. Frankly, she didn’t care. She just wanted to sleep. But as soon as she started to drift off, Az was hauling her into his chest, her arms sliding around his neck.

The scalding water made her flinch when it touched her overly sensitive butt. She whimpered again, tightening her hold on him.

Az hushed her, murmuring sweet nothings into her ear as he slowly sank into the tub.

Fuck she was so sore, but the heat of the water felt so good too. She nuzzled into his neck before allowing him to twist her on his lap so she sat between his legs. Elain rested her head on his shoulder while he washed her down.

“You did so well tonight, love. I’m proud of you,” he told her, kissing her temple. “Are you feeling all right?”

Elain hummed in contentment. “Fine, just tired.”

His chuckle reverberated through her spine. “We’ll get to bed soon. I need to clean up the mess first and blow out all the candles. Do you think you can manage sitting in the tub a bit longer while I take care of that?”  

“Mhmm.” She had no energy for anything else.

His soft laughter chased her in her dreams. Elain felt him climb out from behind her, carefully laying her back against the edge. “Don’t fall asleep, El.”

Good luck with that, she wanted to say but couldn’t. Her eyes had already drifted shut, but she could hear him opening the slider to the small balcony, letting in the fresh air, and then collecting all the items from their bed. She peaked an eye open, seeing him drop the toys in the sink to clean them.

Az didn’t bother to dress, standing nude at the counter as he took care of everything.

Gods, she loved him. He always did everything for her so she never had to worry about anything after sex.

Turning to face her, he grabbed a towel and knelt by the edge of the tub. “All right, love. Can you stand for me so I can dry you off?” He popped the drain, gripping her under the elbow to help her to her feet.

Elain swayed dangerously, making him lurch to hold her under her arm so she didn’t slip.

Az dried her off as best as he could, tossing the wet towel over to the sink before lifting her back into his arms and carrying her into bed, sliding them both under the covers he had pulled down.

She snuggled into his chest, lips pressing over his heart where her name was permanently tattooed. “I love you, Azriel.”

He held her close kissing the top of her head. “Sleep, my beautiful wife.”

But she was already gone, pulled by exhaustion into a dreamless slumber.

~~~~~

Azriel woke to sunlight streaming in from the white curtains across the balcony slider. The rays reflected in Elain’s golden-brown hair, strewn across her pillow. His beautiful, naked wife was curled up on her side, her back pressed into his chest. He was pretty sure his left arm was completely dead, but he didn’t care. Not when he woke up to her every goddamn morning of every day.

She was his wife.

Fuck, she was his wife.

He couldn’t believe he got to call her that forever now. Az didn’t know who he should be thanking for it, but he sent up his prayers to anybody who would listen. His arms were banded around her, one across her chest, the other slung over her waist. He tightened his hold on her, nuzzling deeper into her jasmine and honey scent. She always smelled so good.

The faint laughter of their family told him that they should probably get up soon—join them for breakfast before the jet flew everyone home. He and Elain were going to stay here for a few days before starting on their three-week honeymoon. They were flying to the Winter District first, staying in this dome-like cabin under the northern lights. From there, they would travel to the Spring District to go through its impressive rose gardens. Elain had always wanted to see them and he was obliged to give that to her.

Three whole weeks to themselves. Three weeks of traveling across the country, taking in different sights, sounds, and tastes.

Speaking of tastes, Azriel was greedy for the delicate taste of his wife. Breakfast before breakfast, he told himself, leaning in to kiss her bare shoulder. When she didn’t stir, he moved further into the junction of her neck. He swept his hands over her body, the black band on his fourth finger catching the morning rays.

Elain shifted then, murmuring something in her sleep. Still, she didn’t fully wake.

So, he moved his lips to her nape, kissing her there and nudging his nose into her.

She sighed softly, rolling back into his chest to look up at him. Elain flashed him a sleepy smile. “Good morning, husband.” Her voice was a whisper on the morning breeze.

Gods, when she called him that…he had never felt happiness like this. “Good morning, wife,” he told her, tone husky as he leaned down to claim her lips.

Elain responded to his ministrations eagerly, allowing him to roll on top of her. Her fingers wove into his mussed hair. “What time is it?” she asked as he kissed down her throat to the center of her chest.

Az looked up at her, her brown eyes already dark with lust. “Mid to late morning if I had to take a guess. Everyone else is up. I can hear them.” His tongue darted out to lap at her nipple, sucking the point deep into his mouth.

She sucked in a breath, arching into him and pushing her breast further between his teeth. “Az,” she moaned.

He slipped further down her body, settling between her thighs. His thumb stroked her slit, feeling the wetness that had gathered there already. “Hush, love. You have to be quiet or our family is going to hear you while I enjoy my breakfast.”

At the first swipe of his tongue, Elain clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes screwing shut.

Azriel chuckled against her, throwing her legs over his shoulders and setting a brutal pace. He licked her entrance, plunging his tongue in and out of her, then slid up her slit to suck her clit.

Elain grabbed a handful of his hair, moaning against her palm as she writhed against his mouth, fucking herself on his tongue.

He loved when she took her pleasure from him, rode him to her heart’s content like she was doing now.

With her grip on him, Elain undulated her hips into him, positioning his mouth where she wanted him—needed him. When she tugged him to her clit, he sucked it hard, careening her into her orgasm.

She came with a muffled cry, body going limp into the mattress.

Swiping his tongue up her slit one more time, Azriel kissed his way back up her body, bringing his mouth to hers and letting her taste herself.

Elain hummed, hooking an ankle over his hip and flipping them over. Straddling his waist, she kissed him again. “My turn.” Following a similar path he took, Elain made her way down to his aching cock, at attention and eagerly waiting for his wife’s delectable mouth.

“Fuck, Elain,” he groaned at the first lick.

She smirked at him from between his legs. “Quiet now. You don’t want our family to hear you while I eat my breakfast,” Elain teased, repeating his words back to him.

“Let them,” he growled, sucking in a breath when she swallowed him whole. Fuck, he brushed the back of her throat in her bobbing. Azriel grabbed her hair, holding it at the back of her head and off his thighs. He wanted to watch her suck him.

And suck him she did. Elain’s cheeks hallowed, taking him deep into her mouth and swirling her tongue around his shaft. The warmth was fucking heavenly. “Baby, I’m going to come,” he warned her, feeling the pull low in his belly.

It should be embarrassing how quickly he’d orgasm when she put her mouth on him, but frankly, he didn’t care about staving off when she fucked him with her mouth. It felt too good to stop. “El…”

Feeling him at the precipice of his orgasm, she took him as deep as her throat would allow, finishing him off with a final draw from her mouth.

Az came with a groan, spilling down her throat.

Elain pulled off him with an audible pop, swallowing everything he gave her.

Fuck he loved her. He said as much, grabbing her under his arms and hauling her up his body to kiss her roughly. “You have no idea how much I want to be buried inside of you right now, but we should probably get down there to see the family off. I have housekeepers coming today to clean this place.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “We should definitely put away the toys from last night before they get here.”

He laughed, alerting the others to their woken state because a few minutes later, Cash was banging on the front door, shouting, “Lovebirds, get up! I’ve got breakfast ready.”

“We’re coming!” he growled back, making Elain giggle into his chest. “Come on wife, let’s get dressed.”

Half an hour later, they were cleaned up, dressed, and making their way across the yard to the back patio where his brother had served up a ton of food. Bacon, eggs, potatoes, toast, fruit, and every breakfast drink you could imagine.

Azriel pulled out a chair at the table for Elain, pushing her in before taking a seat next to her. He grabbed platters of food, piling various things onto her plate before his own.

“Elain, you look incredibly well-rested,” Cassian said.

He froze in the middle of scooping fruit, eying his brother in suspicion.

El blinked at his brother. “I am Cash. Thank you.”

He knew it wasn’t a compliment based on the tone of voice. “Cash, if you ever want to have children again, I suggest you not voice whatever is sitting on the tip of your tongue,” he warned.

His wife glanced at him, brows furrowed. “What?”

But Cassian just threw an arm around Nesta’s shoulders, smirking. “I’m just saying, if she’s well-rested, then you must’ve not done your job last night well enough.”

Elain’s cheeks turned pink at the comment, but before he could throw the platter at his ass of a brother, she said, “Cash, perhaps you shouldn’t be so boastful. You should know that women tell each other everything.” Elain propped her cheek on her fist, staring his brother down. “And I mean, everything.”

He glanced at her, unsure of whatever it was she had on his brother, but he was curious. And the look that Cash shot her was not one of pride, but rather one of caution.

“You don’t know anything,” he dared.

His wife’s smile was nothing short of chilling.

“Oh, really? I wouldn’t be so quick, to assume.”

Cassian’s face went pale and he whipped his head to Nesta who was trying not to smile, patting her daughter’s back. “You told her?!” he accused.

Nesta buried her face into the side of Sutton’s head, trying to hold back her laugh.

Feyre raised a glass across the table. “I can back, Elain.” The younger Archeron winked at his wife, sipping from her mimosa.

Cash gaped at the three women. “I can’t believe you told them,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child.

Nesta patted his thigh. “It was years ago, babe. Who cares?”

“I care,” he muttered, looking put out.

Azriel reached under the table to grip Elain’s thigh, pouring her a mimosa from the pitcher on the table.

She slid her hand into his, lacing their fingers together. Picking up her glass, she clinked it on his, her smile brighter than pure sunshine.

He couldn’t stop himself from leaning down to kiss her, oblivious to the whoops and hollers from their family. Az ignored all of that and just let himself enjoy the moment with his gorgeous wife.

~~~

A few hours later, the newly married couple was lying on the beach, soaking up the sun’s warmth. He had dragged out two lounge chairs, sitting them side by side in the sand. Elain looked ridiculously good in her high-waisted bikini.

He had thoroughly ravished her body last night, her creamy skin plastered with his claiming marks. A few were covered by the swimsuit, but the ones on her neck, her ribcage, between the swells of her breasts remained visible.

Fuck she looked sexy covered in his bites.

And Elain didn’t seem to mind them showing, walking out of the house with the confidence of a queen.

Az had groaned at the sight of her. “I did a number on your body,” he’d told her.

She simply smirked, stating, “Perhaps you can add another one later.” Then she handed him the bottle of sunscreen and asked him to lather her back up.

He definitely did more than just her back, kneeling to cover her gorgeous legs, her toned arms, her ample chest, and her lithe waist. She laughed when his fingers slipped into her bikini top, asking him what he was doing. “Making sure my wife doesn’t get burned.”

Elain could only shake her head at his antics.

Laying out, she had tipped her floppy hat down, shading her face as she napped, the book she’d been reading discarded in the sand underneath her chair.

Noticing the pinkening on her stomach, Azriel got up, grabbing the bottle of sunscreen to rub more on her.

She jolted slightly at the contact.

“You’re getting pink,” he explained, spreading the white cream over her body. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Elain hummed, running her hand up his arm. Quick as a flash, she pulled his Ray Bans off his face.

He gave her an exasperated look. “What are you doing?” Az laughed.

“Here, you can wear mine,” she said, holding out her pink aviators to him and pushing his onto her nose.

Huffing, he grabbed hers from her outstretched hand and slid them onto his face. “How do I look?”

“Fabulous,” she said, grinning.

He grabbed her waist, hauling her over his shoulder and making her squeal.

“Azriel! What are you doing?” she laughed.

“Taking my wife swimming, that’s what.”

She smacked him on the butt. “Put me down!”

“No,” he said, popping her on the ass. “And believe me, baby, if you want to start the ass-smacking, I will win.”

Azriel should’ve known that her silence wasn’t her conceding, but that wicked little mind coming up with something truly devious. He hadn’t anticipated her grabbing his hips and biting him on the cheek.

A shout sounded from his throat, and he whipped her back over his shoulder to carry her bridal style. “You little minx. Did you just bite my ass?” He stared down at her in disbelief.

“I told you to put me down. It’s your fault,” she told him, smiling sweetly.

The heated look he shot her had her squirming in his arms. “Oh, I will get even for that later tonight.” His sensual promise had blood rushing to her cheeks. Despite his desire to turn around and carry her right up to the house and fuck her senseless, he continued into the cool water, setting her on her feet about thigh deep.

Elain bent at the waist, dragging her fingers in the waves. Giving him a feline smirk, she splashed him and took off running.

Stunned for a second, Azriel ran after his wife, following the sound of her joyful laugh. When he finally caught her, he kissed her like it was his last.

~~~~~

Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕

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Some tags seem to not want to link, which could be related to your visibility settings. Sorry about that!

[yuujispinkhair]

Just read the post you rebloged about people being mean to fan fic writers and God youre so fucking right. I used to post fic pretty consistently around a year ago, and while post of the people were genuinely lovely and I miss them sometimes- there was a pretty big crowd who always needed more. They wanted more of x character (then never interacted with my works about him), they wanted more of a particular AU, they wanted sequels to fics, ect. And it's cool to express excitement and a want to read more of an authors work but they were straight up MEAN about it I my dms and on annon. Never publicly, obviously. My breaking point came when I posted a fic and eluded to maybe doing a sequel in the replies. Suddenly, everyone was demanding the sequel be out NOW. When it wasn't out within a week, they got demanding. Claiming that I was just "farming interaction" (??? This is Tumblr be real with yourself) or that I was lazy and "uncomitted" (as if I wasn't drowning in university work.) It felt gross how entitled they felt to my work, to my time, to ME. Like I wasn't a whole ass human with an entire life on the other side if the screen. It genuine took the joy out of creating ANYTHING for awhile. I burnt out hard. I'm only now starting to write again.

And the rise of AI isn't fucking helping anything. I had problems with people taking an AU I wrote and making cha.i bots with it. Someone had the audacity to feed one of my fics to chatGPT and ask it for another fic in my writing. Then send me the fic as if I was going to he stoked or flattered and not betrayed. With AI being so rampant, I really think some of yall forgot that there's still real people spending hours creating the fics you love, and not just typing a prompt into a box.

This sense of extreme entitlement, lack of patience, and refusal to treat creators as human is going to kill fandom I feel it in my bones.

I am...so sorry to vent in your ask box like this, this is not what I intended when I started this. I think I just needed to finally say some of this shit out loud and get it off my chest

OMGGG I am so mad on your behalf after reading this 😭😭 I am so sorry there were people who treated you and your stories that way!!

And I agree with you. I already see how much fandom changed since I started in the JJK fandom three years ago.

I am lucky to still have a really lovely community of people who scream with me about my faves and who are excited for my stories. They make it all worthwhile. I find myself looking forward to sharing a new chapter or a new fic because I know those people will enjoy them and interact with them.

But if that stopped being the case, why would I, or anyone else, still put all that work into posting a story?

I am hugging you 💗 And your stories deserve love and appreciation!!

[aprillikesthings]

swear to god the amount of time I've spent on this fic that's just looking up release dates of fucking songs/albums like do you KNOW how many times I've had a half dozen tabs open that are just the wikipedia page for [band/person name] discography

because yes I remember that The Beatles' Revolver came out in 1966 but WHEN in 1966, when can I make Adora listen to it while doing homework

for extra-fun points this was back when a lot of music had not only different release dates but the albums had different track lists, between the USA and the UK--American kids had more spending money, on average, than British kids; so American albums tended to be shorter so they could sell the songs as singles and EP's as well. In the case of The Beatles specifically, their really early stuff was across more than one label! Their albums didn't have the same track lists on both sides of the pond until Sgt. Pepper--at that point they insisted on it, and after that the track lists were always the same.

Sgt. Pepper was still released a week later in the USA than in the UK but I wonder if that was like, literally due to the time it took to ship the damn thing across an ocean lolol

Anyway even as an obsessed teenager in the mid-90's I only bothered memorizing the British album names/tracklists, since that's what was released on CD--the singles that weren't on any albums in the UK were released on their own compilations.

I say "bothered memorizing" lol I didn't even do it on purpose it just...happened. I used to be able to just recite the UK full-length albums in order of release.

Wait can I still do it?

Please Please Me, With the Beatles, A Hard Day's Night, ...I'm missing one I think?..., Help!, Rubber Soul, Revolver, Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, Magical Mystery Tour, Yellow Submarine, The White Album, Abbey Road, Let it Be (hah those last two always trip me up bc they were released in a different order than they were recorded)

Okay let me look and see if I fucked up

OH RIGHT the one I missed was Beatles for Sale. To be fair that album has a lot of...less good songs on it. Though it does have Eight Days a Week on it, which is one of my FAVES. And I got Yellow Submarine and the White Album in the wrong order. (To be fair, Yellow Submarine was mostly "leftovers" from recording Sgt. Pepper and Magical Mystery Tour; the White Album is a totally different style)

ANYWAY this was SUPPOSED to be a post about writing my fic lol god I spent all of yesterday going "I need to write....I need to write...." but couldn't get any words down, until I watched a chunk of Monterey Pop on youtube and then voila, words fell into the gdoc. The funny thing is that I know I just recently reblogged a post that was like "if you're stuck, write or at least imagine things later in the story" and I keep refusing to let myself do that even thought it keeps working when I give up and do it. Because of course it's by writing things that happen later that I figure out how to approach scenes that happen earlier!

But also at this point, their senior year is going to be two or three chapters!, and "Catra hitch-hikes to SF" is going to be an entire chapter by itself. My actual chapter listings in the doc are unintentionally hilarious because at this point it's going to be, like, twice as many chapters as I was planning. 😩

That said I think I only need a couple more scenes before this upcoming chapter is finally done? But at this rate, by the time they graduate high school the rest of the fic will be basically done hahhhhh

[anitalianfrie]

i'm curious about any commentary you have about this is a love story 👀

beside the like,literal hours i spent trying to code that fucking thing, i realized after the first article and maybe, three posts that i needed a plot. or at least, a resemblance of a plot. a sequence of events that would happen and that then had to be filtered through the social media lens and through the eyes of the characters. I had to build the reconciliation organically, i couldn't just write ten posts on them and call it a day because then it wouldn't have worked.

Luckily our community was of great aid in this, and a lot of the posts i put in it, like reblogs or quotes, were directly taken from my dash around the days i wrote that specific section of the story. Like, when we where having the collective leatherboys breakdown, i decided to put it in the story. or the motogpconfession one, i think i wrote it the day after adora unearthed those posts.

i had a piece of paper on which i wrote down all the events i wanted to happen and then i assigned a race/time period to it. I ended up sending vale to like, eight or nine races in the process but i think i was able to cut it down to seven in the fic. Also i refused to check any of the wec races because it could have ruined everything (and it would have, because i'm pretty sure he will race the same weekend as sepang). i was already going crazy reworking the instagram skin, the wec schedule was not going to be my problem.

one of the most difficult things to write was the rockstar au (that now i love very dearly) because. i didn't know what to write about. I knew i needed to put an au in the story, simply because our community is so profilic in writing them, but i had literally zero ideas. i swear to god, i went on an alternate universe generator site and cliked generate about a thousand times before i got this idea.

the non-text most difficult thing i did was enea's gifs because i used my phone and the app sucked majorly. 0/10 do not recommend that's the reason he's the only one i giffed and then simply reblogged repsol-ariel.

also, all the posts i took from tumblr, so reblogs and such, are actually from the blog with the username i wrote in the fic. in some cases their pfp is also the one of their blogs (this ended pretty soon tho because i was about to kill myself so i simply got random pictures on pinterest)

the easiest article to write was gogue's, even if it was the longest and more complex, because i'll be honest i'm really not made for dry sport journalism. I'm quite proud of it, actually. Describing him talking about Valentino was one of my favourite things, but also I loved the possibility to write glimps of his relationship with Alex.

also: i wrote vale's interview for skyITA after marc and bez's incident in italian and then translated it. i started writing it in english, but then i realized it wouldn't have worked, because i was thinking with the english sentence structure. So i thought: what could valentino say? and wrote it as if he was talking, pauses and not-ended sentences. then i took that and translated it the same way i do when i translate proper interviews or videos, changing the phrasing as little as possible. It was quite fun to do.

(also: cuntress-supreme's username was actually inspired by your username :)) )

[echothefandomeater]

Your writing is awesome! You should definitely do an angst Echo fic, if you have the time

Impossible Outcomes

Paring: Echo x GN!Reader Genre/Warning: General grief over losing someone, mentions of death, ugly sobbing Words: 518 Summary: Losing Echo to the explosion hurt you more than you could imagine but what would you do if you got to see him again? A/N: I'm sorry it has taken me a bit to get to this request but I have finally done it, sorry if this wasn't exactly what you were looking for since I had a vague idea of what to do angst wise but because my heart couldn't take it I had to do some kind of resolution and apologies for how short it is.

Your smile mirrored his own soft one, this was you and his moment, no one else's.

“Till death do us apart.”

It seemed like a cruel joke now. Everytime you thought of those words he had said to you in this very bedroom it broke your heart. 

You would never see him again, never hear him talk about his day or how Fives and him were messing with Rex again, he wouldn’t come to your work just to see you after a mission and he wouldn’t show up with the perfect caf.

You would never get to tell him how much you loved him again, never get to cover his face in kisses as he laughed, gripping onto him refusing to let him leave the bed in the morning and never get to help him relax after a particularly hard day or mission.

What hurt the most was there was no funeral. No opportunity for you to say goodbye properly, not like the way your father got to say goodbye to your mother, because to the republic he was just another number.

Another designation.

—-----

You felt like you were going to be sick.

Rex had called you and asked you to meet him in a discreet place in Coruscant. You had expected him to ask for a favour but not this.

There in the low light stood what looked like the husk of your lover. His hair was gone, he was slightly paler, had a scomplink for a hand and prosthetic legs but his face recognisable to you nonetheless. You shook your head and teared up.

“This isn’t funny Rex..” Rex approached you slowly and his face softened as he spoke, he spoke like you were a child who was ready to run and hide.

“I would never joke about this and you know it…” 

You did know. You knew alongside you and Fives, that Rex took Echo’s death just as hard. All three of you became each other's support so it hurt even more when you both lost Fives and only had each other.

He stopped out of the way to let you see your lover again. The sight that greeted you broke your heart further than you thought was possible. He had tears of his own running down his face. You quickly rushed at him, you wrapped your arms around his neck tightly as if he would disappear if you let go of him. 

You both cried together “I thought you were dead” you sobbed and met his eyes. You knew it was him by the way he looked at you, like you were the light of his life and your own eyes reflected his with the same love. “I know but I’m here now.. I promise”

You buried your head in his shoulder and just continued to cry with him. He rubbed your back with his real hand to try and comfort him but by the way he shook, you knew he wasn’t going to stop crying at any point. Not that you cared.

You were just glad to have him back in your arms.

[whumpitlikeyoumeanit]

The Need of Malfoy Men to Please Their Fathers Was Not Only Pathological, It Was Magical

((Content warning: Child abuse, mind control / conditioning, chid whumpee, domination ))

((Promptspiration: @week-of-whump 2023: October 13: Child Whump

the idea of this Au backstory is @thebestieyoureinlovewith's (here) With apologies; I think I made the parents a little darker than intended...))

Whumpee: Draco

Whumper: Lucius

Caretaker: --

Whump type: Mental / Domination

Fic type: Weird AU (Malfoy Blood Magic)

((words: ~1000))

------------------------------------

Narcissa dragged the crying, uncooperative boy into the study by the arm, tugging firmly when he squirmed yet again and redoubled his sobbing, digging in his feet on the carpet.

"Lucius, if you're going to punish him," she gritted out between her teeth, "you deal with it."

Lucius glanced up mildly from his papers. "Just leave him in his room."

"If that worked, I would have done it," she snapped. "It has been three hours. Either let him go or keep him yourself." She pushed Draco up beside the desk. He squirmed in her hands to try to turn away, but she held him firmly.

The look he gave her was indulgent; he didn't think this was necessary, but if she was demanding it... He turned toward the end of the desk and crossed his legs. "Draco."

Draco faced him with his head hanging, refusing to look, clumsy hands clutching and yanking at the front of his shirt, still sobbing. There were no actual tears, of course; he'd been 'crying' so long that he'd used them all up, and left just the emotion and the noise.

"Draco," he repeated severely, and the boy squirmed his face away into his shoulder. "Why are you crying?"

He yanked hard on his clothes. "It hurts!" he yelled.

"No, it doesn't," he corrected patiently. The boy didn't really have the words; he wasn't quite four, so it was reasonable, he supposed. A little disappointing, though. "It feels bad. That isn't pain."

"No! It hurts!"

"Are you talking back to me?"

Draco flinched and sobbed harder.

Lucius tapped his foot lightly. Draco squirmed to resist and when he figured out he couldn't, that his mother was still blocking him from running away, he flung himself down on the floor at his father's feet with a petulant sob.

"Why does it feel bad?"

"Because you're mad at me!" he wailed. Above him, Narcissa pressed her eyes closed and took a deep, sharp breath, rubbing her temple.

"No, I am not," he corrected calmly. "If I were angry with you, it would be pain." Not intentionally, of course; it wasn't as though he would be, say, Crucioing him. But the magic that bound them together responded to emotion. "I am disappointed."

"I'm sorry!"

"Don't beg," he said coolly. "You are a Malfoy." His disapproval naturally heightened the unpleasant feeling playing through Draco's nerves, and the boy shrieked and kicked at the floor.

"Lucius," Narcissa said tightly. "This is unbearable. You should have either activated this curse years ago, or waited until he was old enough to be reasonable."

"It isn't a curse," he said mildly.

"It is a curse to me," she snapped. "This is not 'handling it'."

"You have to be patient. It is a process. Draco." The boy flinched at the sound of his name, and he didn't care for that. "Look at me."

Draco shook his head wildly. Lucius patiently put his foot out to stop the motion of his head, then when he got him still, laid his toe under his chin and turned his face up to make him look. "Good," he said, the mildest of praise. "That feels better, doesn't it?"

"No," he sniffled petulantly.

"Yes, it does," he corrected. He knew it did; Draco was hardly the first Malfoy boy to be bound by this spell. It had existed in their family so long it wasn't even really a spell, per se, but some of that 'old magic' that seemed built into the fabric of the world. He knew exactly how Draco felt. But Draco was such a stubborn and wildly emotional child who seemed to revel in his sulking, he wouldn't even admit to relief. "Do you know why it feels better?"

"No..."

"Because you did as I said. Do you understand?"

Draco sniffled without responding.

"Do something I don't like..." he prompted.

He squirmed and tried to take his head back, but Lucius kept his foot under his jaw so he couldn't. "It feels bad," Draco finally said in a small voice.

"Good. And to feel better..."

"Do as you say..."

"Correct." He took his foot back. "If you ever manage to please me, it will feel good." It wasn't easy to obtain, but the feel of your father's pride was intoxicating. They'd see if Draco ever managed it.

Draco sat down firmly on his butt and sniffled again.

Lucius tapped the floor with his foot again for his attention. "What do I want you to do?"

"I don't know," he sniffled petulantly.

"I told you."

"I don't know!"

Well, he was young. He supposed he couldn't hold too many things in his mind for that long. "I want you to thank me properly."

It was a classic test. Moreover, it was a highly effective trial, for them. Malfoy boys were so proud -- as they should be, of course -- that they had to really commit to do any such thing. It helped them understand their place, and effectively demonstrated the possible rewards for doing what their father wanted instead of what their instincts were telling them.

Draco yanked at his shirt again, looking up at him with big, wet eyes.

"Say 'thank you'."

"Thank you..." Draco echoed.

"'Sir'."

"Sir." He tapped his foot on the carpet, and Draco looked at it, then back up at him. "Thank you, sir?" he repeated tenatively.

He didn't need to smile at that; the way Draco gasped when the unpleasant feeling abruptly transmuted to a good, warming tingle that couldn't properly be described said it all. The sobbing and sniffling stopped as suddenly as if they were an act he forgot he was putting on.

He was actually surprised, himself, at how satisfying it felt to be on the receiving end of that submission. He wondered for the first time if perhaps the ancient magic went both ways.

"Finally," Narcissa sighed. "I am going to have a nap. Don't make him cry again if you can help it."

"I doubt you have to worry." He turned back to his desk, and glanced down at Draco. He was looking up at him now with a sort of wonder. "You can stay," he said magnanimously.

[winged-mammal]

20 questions for fic writers

as demanded requested by @reginasbread

How many works do you have on ao3?

52

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

597,588

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Chronologically: Star Trek Voyager, Warehouse 13, Person of Interest, The Expanse. There's also a stray Star Trek TNG from almost 13 years ago, and let's not speak of the Strangers with Candy fic.

(Also I wrote some House fic back in the day, but I never put it on AO3. Why did I put the SWC but not the House fic on AO3, you ask? No idea. It made sense at the time. The SWC is there because of my adherence to the 'archive' part of AO3's name, but locked to logged-in users because it's not my brand anymore, hah.)

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

'Metadata' (TNG) and 'Overheard' (POI) are the runaway leads, with about twice the kudos of number three. Then there's 'Catalysis' (WH13), 'Freud can take his cigar and go fuck himself' (POI), and 'An Offer That Possibly Should Be Refused, But Really Who Could?' (ST:VOY)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Always! That's how you get your grubby little hands on people who are as unhinged about the thing as you are.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

There's really only three angsty-ish fics in my history. 'Existentialism is a Bitch' for POI, where Root took over the Machine when she died, which I'd say is more bittersweet than angsty. There's also the Warehouse 13 one where HG stayed dead after S3 and Myka's grief created an artifact, which I'd say takes the angsty cake for sure.

(The third is one of the aforementioned Strangers With Candy fics we won't talk about.)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Other than the above, none of them are exactly *sad*. So I guess if we're going with, like, the romance novel sort of idea of a happy ending, I'd say 'One Foot in Sea, One on Shore' because of the happily-ever-after suggestion of the last scene.

8. Do you get hate on fic?

Don't think I ever have, nope.

9. Do you write smut?

lololololololol that's almost all I write. That's how they all have happy endings asdlkasjdfjasfdk

10. Do you write crossovers?

Not unless the POI Fifth Element AU counts.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I have a vague memory of finding one on Wattpad, but that might've been a friend's that I found when I went looking.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I've had several of my POI fics translated into Mandarin! I'm also gonna count the handful of podfics people have done, which is always very exciting. The WH13 one for 'Aural Sex' was 🔥

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I did some outsourcing work on a porn scene of @asleepinawell's shoot vampire au. Very spicy, and it accidentally tied neatly into the overall theme of the fic. Same brain!

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Can anybody really answer this??? We're all affected by recency bias. I mean, I had major shoot brainrot for six years, but my two years of bobbiechrisjen brainrot has already resulted in more written words than I wrote for shoot, so what is the truth???

...That said, I do think it's one of those two. Bering and Wells gives me SO many feelings, but they're less personally relatable to me than shoot's brand of affection or the milf appreciation of bobbiechrisjen lololol

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

It's an extreme stretch to call it a WIP, but a few years ago I had a concept for a shoot fic that was kind of a weird mash up of Horizon Zero Dawn, Mad Max Fury Road, Futurama, a text-based video game I played once about nuclear hazard architecture, and weirdly, it was inspired by the Linkin Park album 'A Thousand Suns.' It's one of those things that you can see the shape of really clearly, but ends up being impossible to translate. Unfortunate.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue and porn. I think it's clear looking through my history that I play to my strengths lololol

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Describing things like faces and clothes and rooms people are in, and using adjectives in general. It's because I'm one of those people who absolutely do not see pictures in their mind, so it never occurs to me to write that sort of thing.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

The only time I think I've ever done it is the Divine Language in the Fifth Element AU, which obviously is a fake language. I refused to italicize it because it's annoying and unnecessary and I find it infantilizing when I read it.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The argument could be made that it was "The Stinky Cheese Man and Other Fairly Stupid Tales" back when I was seven or eight. If I had to have known that it was fanfiction that I was writing at the time, then it'd have been one manga or another when I was 14 or 15. Gravitation or Petshop of Horrors, or something of the sort.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Maybe 'The Signal's Just a Roar,' the shoot trucker/radio host au. I love that setting and the excuse to get super nerdy and enjoyed then combining it with canon in the end. 'One Foot in Sea, One on Shore' is a good contender too, if only for the fact I actually managed to write a 169k fic, which is still mind-boggling to me.

For oneshots, it's definitely 'when she wakes me, she takes me back home,' the shoot domesticity fic. I just really love how it turned out.

[a-yarn-of-purple-prose]

rare pair game: Diluc/Navia or Wanderer/Furina

Both are extremely cute, though I'll have to go with Diluc/Navia because I was 100% run over by a stray fic just from thinking about it.

There are over 1k words of silliness under the cut.

*

Diluc and Navia met at work. Well at least he was working, trying to secure the distribution rights to Fonta in Mondstadt territory, and perhaps find a foothold in the elusive Fontaine wine market through those fascinating Fonta vending machines. So far, he had only managed to negotiate half of the deal, well three quarters if you counted convincing Mr. Heinry to give Dawn Winery Special Edition grape-flavored Fonta a shot.

“As much as I'd like our contract to be mutually beneficial, Master Diluc, I must inform you our lawyers are still working out some potential complications on the distribution method we discussed.”

“Potential complications?”

And then the she barreled into their meeting. Miss Navia Caspar, the Demoiselle of the Spina di Rosula, tall and gracious and oh so golden in her fine dress and ribboned hair. It almost made him overlook the fact that she was accompanied by two armed men with the heft of bruisers, or that the umbrella in her hands smelled of gunpowder.

“Dawn Winery has no place in Fontaine,” she said, her voice level, her eyes on Diluc, locking him in place. “Our wineries are family-owned and Spina di Rosula won't have them out of business because the big shots at the Institute decided to make a backroom deal with some foreign mogul!”

“Miss Caspar--” Mr. Heinry started, his tone clearly exasperated.

Diluc stopped him with a gesture, said, “No, let her speak.” Then, turning to her, he smiled and said, “Mr. Heinry was just telling me there were obstacles to our strategy. Care to join us and discuss this in more depth?”

A look at the table and the seat he had offered her, then she turned her face from it. “I'm not here to negotiate, just to inform.”

She refused to sit, thus politeness meant Diluc had to stand. “I understand you care deeply about this matter, but neither Dawn Winery nor myself have any interest in taking anyone out of business, this is not what this strategy is about.”

For some reason she took those words as a challenge, closing the space between them, umbrella clutched in both hands, her men spreading around the room like wings.

“Oh, so you mean to say Master Diluc Ragnvindr isn't aware that his fast-moving, things-breaking ways of doing business aren't exactly following the letter of the law in Fontaine?”

If he was to bottle the energy in those bright blue eyes, Diluc could possibly rule the world. But admiring her meant he hadn't answered, which probably made him look guilty. And, when Mr. Heinry spoke he just made it all worse.

“Nonsense, we have consulted with our lawyers and they said there were no laws against the introduction of foreign products regardless of method or breadth of distribution,” he said. “If you disagree, you should raise a formal challenge with the courts and see if they give you reason. Which won't happen unless there's chance of societal disruption. And, truly, how can wine sales disrupt society?”

That was something Diluc was very ready to answer, but he had no need. He saw how Miss Caspar smiled before she turned the full strength of that gaze upon Mr. Heinry.

“Well then it's good that our people have already organized to mail Maison Gestion and Maison Cardinalice requesting a review of the practices regarding the vending machines. We even organized a little protest to make sure they pay attention.”

“Protest?” he scoffed, gesturing at the open window, “I see no protest!”

At this, Diluc noticed the voices outside had grown in volume. They also had a rhythm, like they were chanting something.

She giggled, waving his comment away with a flick of the wrist. “Small thing, you know, placards and chants. No fires or anything like that. It would look bad on the cover of the Steambird.”

Diluc wasn't really thinking when he looked out the window to check, so the flashes that almost blinded him took him by foolish surprise. He flinched back, blinking away the afterimages, and bumped into the Demoiselle, soft and silky and scented like a rose by the sea. The sort of perfume you could track through a forest, he thought.

She didn't move away. In fact, she pushed closer, whispering next to his ear, “And would you look at that, I think that over there is Charlotte. Won't you smile to the camera, Master Diluc? You do smile very pretty.”

It was to his utter disgrace that he lost all capacity to speak. Frozen and tongue-tied, it was perhaps easier to notice the movement of the suspicious person that threw the bottle. Danger was easier to understand than whatever Navia got out of him, after all.

“Look out!” he said, before turning to push her out of the way of the incoming projectile. The bottle exploded into a small fire in the place he had been standing. He watched one of the men that had come in with Miss Caspar jump in to put it out, while the other crossed the room to pull her out of Diluc's arms. Thankfully, she was about as embarrassed about it as he was.

“Oh,” she said, “I guess not everyone got that memo about no fires.”

Then she looked from him to Mr. Heinry-- who had thrown himself under a table and was whimpering softly-- before stepping back to the room's entrance. At this, her men filed around her, one keeping her company while the other checked the corridor. Like they expected something. Had been, the whole time.

Considering what he had just witnessed, it made sense, but he couldn't help being curious. Was this common in her life? What sort of life did she live to react to a firebomb with a simple 'oh'? Could he just ask? Perhaps over dinner?

But before he organized his thoughts enough to consider acting, she was gone out the door, head held high and not one lock of golden hair out of place. Absolutely stunning.

*

When she saw who had sent the letter, Navia frowned. What would Diluc Ragvindr want with her after all that in the morning? Is he suing for damages? But if it was that, the letter would have come from his lawyers, right? Right?

Overcome by curiosity, she just ripped the letter open, being greeted by a fresh, early summer type of smell. Navia was still wondering where she, too, could buy deep red ink that smelled of berries when she got to the meat of the letter. Then she had to put it down, cover her face with her hands, and give the tiniest of the screams so no one would show up with a gun.

What does he mean by asking permission to court her? Is he a vampire or something?

“Just ask me on a date you pretty idiot!” she muttered.

And that stopped her cold. Was she into him? Him? Oh, this called for some emergency girl time. Clorinde better be free for lunch.