#i think this is the first time i've posted anything about my modern au bad batch so i'll give a brief summary of their lives

[icwasher]

I've recently decided to take my Star Wars modern AU and give it a plot and as I've been thinking about it I wrote a short scene that takes place somewhat close to the beginning middle-ish. Unfortunately, I do not want to spoil the story so this scene is without context, but I'll post it here anyways for anyone who wants to read it.

There were no lectures in the Fett car that night. Only silence, though it was sometimes interrupted by the crunching of rocks on the asphalt road against the car’s tires. Omega huddled in the back seat, trying to ignore the glare Crosshair was giving her from the rearview mirror. Out of all her brothers, he was the angriest, which was not really very surprising. Crosshair tended to be like that. His anger was like ice—cold, hard, and long-lasting. Omega knew it could be months before he stopped being mad. She could even be done with her sentence—three months of grounding plus an extra month of chores—before Crosshair even began to stop being angry. Sometimes she wished he wasn’t like that. But it was just a testament to his loyalty—loyalty that kept him with Omega and her brothers instead of letting him roam off around the world like Omega knew he wanted to.  She hoped someday he would get to travel. He had told her once, in the strictest confidence, that he wanted to visit every country. So far, he had only been to three. Omega had been curious after he shared that with her, and she had snuck out his passport while he had been sleeping. Two stamps. One to Afghanistan, and the other to Costa Rica. The former had been to visit a recovering Echo. The latter had been for his never-spoken-of time working for the Empire. Omega usually liked Crosshair’s loyalty. But not now. Now it would mean holding onto his anger. There wouldn’t be any late-night movies or conversations between them for a while. Omega curled her legs up to her chest and hugged her knees. It would be fine. She’d get through this.

[winterzsurprise]

Change My Mind [2]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 8.6k

I posted this a day later than the one on ao3 because I forgor :''DD

Seeing the support and comments from both website got me off my ass to fix the storyline, even made a lot of changes on the chapters I've had preserved.

this chapter got rewritten a LOT, and was longer than it initially was so I hope y'all don't mind long chapters.

<<<Prev || MASTERLIST || Next>>>

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There's been times where your heart has truly fluttered for a man throughout your lifetime. Too many times has it been because some of your bosses (read: Jimin) flirted with you but you have never felt anything remotely giddy for anyone else outside the group.

Except for the man now sitting in front of you, flashing you a dimpled smile after handing out his card with an ease you only see in your friends and male leads in dramas. An action more attractive than any kabaedon or flexed muscles.

He's attractive but you don't like like him.

Yoo Guwon came to you as a bashful giant, rubbing the back of his head whenever he’s flustered and a constant sheepish smile featuring his deep set of dimples indented on both cheeks. He’s charming and articulate with his words just like a lawyer would be. Everything about him reminds you of another gentle and clumsy giant probably hunched over his music equipment back in the BigHit building.

It’s only been a few hours but you surprisingly covered most of the basic grounds of first meeting conversations during the short time you drove around Han River in a two seated bicycle. From the meager questions of ‘what dreams do you have?’ to the more complex and deeper ‘If the world falls into ruin, will you burn my body when I die?’. 

Too graphic for a first date but you wanted to test the waters and you concluded that he’s too perfect.

He knows the right words to say, the proper way to act and it makes you suspicious. Your mother has never recommended you to a good guy before, having a track record of ten shitty suitors who all ran their mouths about their mediocre achievements, and dared to ask you about your purity before ranting about how dirty you are for not saving yourself for your husband the moment they find out you're not a virgin anymore. Then all of a sudden, she led you to good boy Guwon.

And it makes your skin crawl.

What did that woman eat? Has your father fed her something bad this time? What is she planning? It’s scary how she has finally advocated for an actual nice guy.

After taking you to a museum you're sure Namjoon has visited once, he drove you both to the Han River to rent a double seated bike to drive around with before ending the night with a nice reservation somewhere in the Seocho district.

The place is as sophisticated as fine dining areas usually are. With an intimate lighting, marbled tabletops matched with soft cushioned seats and high ceilings to make space for modern glass chandeliers, the restaurant was no doubt expensive, the type you have to reserve a spot two months prior to be able to experience its greatness. The point was driven home when you saw the amount of zeros it cost for one can of soda. 

You asked him how he managed to get a table and he went down the rabbit hole of the many advantages he got from successful cases, ranging from a free monthly subscription to fruit baskets to a free week-long voucher to a five star hotel somewhere in Busan. 

Going back to the butterflies, while not as wild as it got when Hoseok possessively wrapped an arm thrown around your waist to pretend as your boyfriend to ward off a persistent suitor, they're there, albeit subtle.

Very subtle.

Maybe it's in the way he didn't think twice to hand out his card towards the waiter in the most suave way with the thick golden watch decorating his wrist, sleeves neatly folded up to reveal the thick cords of veins on his forearms with his hair strewn messily and a dimpled smile that made you react like that.

You ignore the voice comparing his uncannily similar traits to someone else.

Meeting Guwon wasn't like how the movies illustrated love at first sights. They talked of fireworks exploding in the background and hearing the sweet chimes of wedding bells upon eye contact but for him, it's just that. A meeting far more formal than you'd like. He has a lot of qualities that check your list of husband material traits yet instead of butterflies, you could only feel an echoing hollowness in your chest as you listen to him list out his future plans. 

It felt like surrendering to the fate the divinities had weaved out for you which is being an untethered forced to love someone you don't even feel any spark with.

He's a nice man who’s offering a comfortable future and you're just a woman who wishes to live a lavish life at home while your husband wastes his years away in the office. You might be a hopeless romantic who wished for soulmates and the like but you're not blind to the opportunity Guwon offers you.

You haven't texted the gc anything during the date other than the selfie you took before you left for the date but there's been constant vibrations in your purse and it's no doubt the guys asking for updates but for a moment you wanted to try to focus on the man before you.

Not that it wasn't hard to try with Guwon anyways.

Whenever the man spoke of his achievements and hobbies with a humble approach, he never forgot to ask you for your opinion or input on the topic. You also noted how he has never cut you off and let you speak whenever you wanted, listening with an eagerness only your friends usually show. He asked relevant questions with a genuine curiosity, eager to know more about you. 

So when he asked if you wanted to go on a second date that night, it came to no surprise for anyone when you accepted it albeit the heaviness in your heart.

It was funny how eagerly you searched for a husband you could bring to your parents' doorsteps but the moment someone with all the qualities you seeked came, it felt disappointing. Boring even.

But you can learn, this man is your ticket to living without working anymore.

It came to no one's surprise that your mother was overjoyed, she wasted no time calling you before you could even change to squeeze the memory of today out of you.

The shrill scream of victory she let out that night was unforgettable because finally, a suitor you actually liked. Your dad even congratulated her off-screen for her matchmaking achievements before telling you to bring Guwon home to meet them.

Logically, you’re aware you've won the love roulette—Guwon has it all, he checked every box on your list, yet it felt like defeat and it tasted foul, bitter on your tongue.

You couldn't tell them that it was you deciding to settle, that would break her heart.

Tapping the end call button felt like the dam breaking and all the water held onto for so long flowed out. You fall lifelessly on your bed with a heavy sigh. Taking a couple evening breaths, you finally opened the group chat with an overwhelming number of unread messages.

[Today, 08:49]

[08:49] Mimi: I'd run my bank dry to take you on dates if you'd dress so pretty like that, noona~

[08:49]Tete: We're really seeing this for free when the poor guy has to pay for it. #livingapriviledgedlife😁👍

[08:49] Hobi: Wow noona🤯

[08:50] Yoongs: 👍

[08:55] Tete: Wait, I don't think those shoes fit you, go back home and change it😁

[08:56] Jinnie: Hey, you're showing too much skin on the first date! Go back and change!

[08:57] Joonie: Ignore these haters noona, I hope you enjoy your day😊

[Today, 21:48]

[21:48] Jinnie: are you home yet? You haven't seen our messages in HOURS.

[21:48] Tete: NOONA DID YOU GET MURDERED?!😱

[21:50] Joonie: Let's be rational guys, don't jump to conclusions. The date might just be going great if she's busy enough to not check her phone😊.

[21:51] Mimi: doing great? don't scare me like that hyung😵‍💫

[21:51] Tete: BUT WHAT IF SHE GOT KIDNAPPED HYUNG????

[21:51] Hobi: please reply soon, we're worried🥲

Jungkook's absence from the conversation didn't come to you as a shock, the kid doesn't even reply to you for a week despite being one of the people who raised him. Nonetheless, you sat up from your bed to record a quick video of you giving them a thumbs up and turning the camera to show your room.

The latter was an assurance to Taehyung that no, you also didn't get kidnapped into someone else's house to be someone's housekeeper, and no, it wasn't a clone either.

The moment your message gets sent, the replies blow up your phone almost instantaneously.

[22:28] Mimi: noona you're alive!

[22:28] Joonie: How did the date go?😊

[22:28] Jinnie: how nice of you to remember to update us PEASANTS.

[22:28] Mimi: How was Guwon?

[22:29] Tete: I KNEW WE SHOULD'VE WENT WITH YOU ANYWAYS

[22:29] You: Shockingly, he's a pretty nice guy. Not too bad on the eyes, and pretty smart. I think you'd get along well with him, joon. He's a lawyer so he covered most of the expenses today😁

[22:29] You: Overall, it was great, we're gonna go on a second one. He's pretty cool.

Instantly, messages from the members, even Jungkook’s to your surprise, flooded your screen.

[22:30] Tete: Noona you've been cursed! We need to bring you to the nearest shaman to break it!!

[22:30] Mimi: don't joke with us noona

[22:30] Mimi: I just got goosebumps!

[22:30] Joonie: Congratulations are in order then? Will we be expecting him around you soon?

[22:31] Yoongs: I need to meet him, need to know if he's good enough

[22:31] Yoongs: men are trash, I need to see him for myself before I decide

[22:32] Yoongs: and you know what they say about lawyers, they LIE. I wouldn't trust him 

[22:32] Jinnie: WE need to meet the man who managed to steal your heart! I want to talk to him😊

[22:32] Mimi: don't use that emoji again, hyung

[22:32] Hobi: SCARY JWANN😱

[22:32] Joonie: Let’s not threaten anyone please.

[22:32] Joonie: But I'm really happy for you 😁.

[22:33] Tete: Those periods really scares me hyung…

[22:33] Tete: Somehow, I don't think you mean it…

[22:33] Joonie: What makes you think that, tae?😁.

[22:33] Tete: 😰

[22:34] Ggukie: a few drinks will fix you up, noona😁

[22:34]  Mimi: you'll invite me this time right?

[22:34] You: I don't know, you already used your mischief hours this week, I doubt Sejin would be so kind next time.

[22:34] Hobi: if he does that right now during practice, I also wouldn't be so kind to him😊

[22:34] Mimi: you are scaring me hyung…

[22:34] Hobi: good😊

[22:34] Tete: Hyung, are you just gonna ignore Jungkook leaving?!?!!?

The messages continued for a good five minutes, mostly consisting of holding Jimin back from leaving practice and him sending pictures of the infamous Hoseok death glare from across the room before your doorbell chime rang, making you shoot up straight.

A beat. Then it continues in three quick successions, the knocks almost in sing-song and sounded like two hands were used to produce the tune, giving you an inkling on who might be visiting you at this late hours of night.

Padding out of your room, the front door suddenly swings open without warning and you yelp. By the doorsteps stands the intruder, a tall man in a black coat with his face hidden by a mask and a cap. Your body would've frozen a thousand times over if you didn't know this stranger who's hugging two paper bags, one overflowing with snacks and the other a breeze away from tearing apart from the weight and water drenching the material of the bag.

"Hi noona!"

After today, seeing Jungkook felt like a cure, his presence alone repelling the heaviness in your shoulders and you ushered him inside and he wandered into your home with ease, approaching the coffee table to place down the shopping bags. 

Suddenly you remembered what he had scheduled prior.

"You're putting me on Hoba’s punishment rotation, what are you doing here?" 

He giggled. “We both know he won't, hyung loves you more than me.”

He falls on your couch with the ease of someone who has visited your space numerous times throughout the years, propping up his feet on the back support and folding his arms underneath his head before staring up at you, expectantly.

"Anyways, I brought us food and drinks, don't I deserve a little praise?" 

Sometimes it's easy to forget how young Jungkook really is, forced to grow and act mature to blend in with his surroundings, you've always seen him stand with pride alongside his hyungs. Seeing him awaiting for your praise so eagerly like a pup fills your heart with awe.

"Yeah yeah, good job. Now move over, let me sit down."

You tapped his arm, motioning him to move over so you could sit next to him, something he obeyed without resistance, busying himself in removing the contents from the soiled paper bag instead.

“Couldn't you have put some effort into it? At least sound grateful.” He pouts. Placing down the cluster of beer cans, you turned to him and pinched his cheeks.

“Oh my dearest darling, thank you for saving this noona of yours. Such an amazing baby I have here.”

Despite being the one who asked for it, Jungkook only rolled his eyes with a barely held back grin as he slapped your hands away, making you laugh, and turned to the bag holding the snacks he bought. You didn't miss the redness dusting his cheeks or the cheeky grin that tugged his lips wide as he spilled the contents of the last bag onto the table.

There's a significant amount of sweets and snacks laid before you, as well as stacks of canned beers and you turned to him with furrowed brows.

"Wouldn't this ruin your diet?"

He waved you off with a huff. "I work out enough to eat all of these in one sitting."

Instantly, your mind brings you back to white walls and gray furniture, faced with manager Sejin who warned you about interfering with the idols' diet at the start of your career. If it wasn't for Bang PD waving off their concerns, saying they needed to be rewarded for their hard work anyways, you would've been long booted out of the company.

It's a matter long settled yet it remains to weigh heavily in your head.

Seeing the hesitation in your eyes, Jungkook continues.

"I can show you proof of my efforts," 

He then reached down to the fabric of his shirt tucked into his jeans and tugged it up, flashing you the tightly corded muscles in forming on his abdomen and the thin happy trail you often see when patting his sweat down during concerts and you hastily pulled it back down with a yelp, cheeks growing hot while he laughed.

As he throws his head back in his mirth, you couldn't help but notice the way adulthood has taken away the fullness of his cheeks and has sharpened his features. A far cry from the sensitive young boy who cried his eyes out every time his hyungs got hurt. 

There was no denying that Jungkook had grown without you noticing and it makes your chest swell with pride knowing he's been raised well by the others, in extension, although not so much, you as well.

"Don't worry so much about me, noona. I can handle the consequences now, you leave the reprimanding to me."

Under the warm overhead light of your living room, even with the exaggerated puff of his chest and his nose turnt up high, Jungkook's shoulder had never looked sturdier, reliable, in your eyes. You smiled, reaching to pinch both his cheeks making him grin wider than he already was.

"Look at you acting so cool, when did you grow so much?"

He rolled his eyes, pulling your hands away from his cheeks and entangling it with his. “I've always been cool, you just don't pay attention to me, noona.”

Before you could reply, he's already moved to reach for the beverages on the coffee table, popping two of them open and handing you one can, immediately you take a swig.

The beer fizzled in your tongue and left a trail of burns down your throat. The sensation is refreshing nonetheless and you place it down next to him before picking up the large bags of chips and standing up.

"I'll go put these in a bowl, go put something on the tv."

"Can I play anime?"

You waved at him dismissively, unable to find it in yourself to say no to him as you head towards your kitchen to transfer the junk into a bowl when a shrill tune from your bedroom cuts through the air, someone was calling you. You look over to Jungkook, scrolling through his phone, no doubt looking for a movie online.

"Gguk, can you pick up the call for me? My hands are busy right now."

There's a shuffle of feet behind you and in a moment, your phone quietens down. Finished with filling one bowl, you turn to find Jungkook leaving your room with a deep look and your phone in hand. His jaw set tight as he stood there with furrowed brows, eyes lit with irritation.

Looking at his reaction, you asked about your mysterious caller.

"Who was it?"

When he turned to you, the tick in his jaw dispersed. All of a sudden, he's smiling at you with mischief twinkling in his eyes, the change giving you a whiplash.

"It was the others, didn’t answer their calls cause I want you for myself tonight, noona."

(Later on, you'd find yourself staring at the many unread messages and two missed calls from Guwon, wondering in your drunken state if you've muted your phone at some point earlier.)

Hearing it from his lips now, your body locks, heart stuttering in your chest and butterflies exploding in your stomach, spreading a tingly feeling throughout your body and you laugh. 

"Where did you hear that line from, brat? You just activated my fight or flight!"

"Taehyung says that and gets thanked but when I do it, I'm punished?" He pouts, stomping as he approaches the island counters and crossing his arms on the marble surface.

It reminded you of a bunny you saw from a video on the internet, angrily thumping their feet at their owner when it was being purposely ignored.

“In his defense, he does it while he’s acting like my crazy ‘exes’ and saves me from dates.”

“That’s just favoritism! I saved you once from a date!”

You threw him a deadpan stare. "Throwing me over your shoulders and kidnapping me isn’t the same as Tae and Jimin acting crazy enough to make the other guy uncomfortable to save me.”

Hoseok had your favorite troublemakers kneeled on the floor with both their hands up and facing the wall at the time, punishing them for being an hour late to their practice. He had called you in, asking if they had been accompanying you during —they weren’t. 

Long story short, you didn't risk sharing Hoseok’s wrath with the two and took Jungkook instead, a decision you quickly regretted later on in the night when instead of approaching to act like one of your exes when you gave him a signal, he hoisted you up onto his shoulder and ran away while your date only watched in terror.

“Now that’s blatant favoritism! I didn’t kidnap you, we ran away together into the sunset! It was romantic!"

"Not for the other guy, no! He was shitting bricks when he called my mom. She got me squatting the entire afternoon when we met again."

Mentioning it alone made phantom pains throb in your knees and thighs, you shivered. If torture wasn't a socially unacceptable and punishable offense in the modern world, you were sure your mother would have stripped you down to your underwear and made you squat under the sun in front of your family house instead. 

The absolute fury she unleashed on you that day is enough proof that she would've done it with no hesitation if it was lawfully appropriate.

"That's too much for a failed date."

"No reason to dwell on it. Main point is, don't take notes from dramas anymore."

With a last roll of his eye, Jungkook then picked up the bowls and brought them to the coffee table following you who had returned to your seat ahead of him. Once the two of you are situated back on the couch, he navigates through the streaming app for an interesting title before eventually settling on the romance anime he claimed to have heard amazing reviews about.

Without hesitation, Jungkook navigates himself into a familiar between your legs and leaned back on your chest, head finding his rightful space under your chin with a precision gained from doing so for years.

It goes without saying that Bangtan is affectionate. With the pressure they had during their rise to fame, it wasn't shocking that they comfortably seeked each other's comfort and spared no skinship. As one of the only staff within constant exposure that's close to their age, you too became one of their pillars of serenity. 

It was the reason you had crushes on everyone at least twice during your time as their make-up artist, not that any of the boys knew nor does it matter.

Stability and work takes precedence over something as shaky as love.

There's only so much comfort another man can offer, your mother says from years before.

Jungkook more than anyone else in the group. 

As a boy who sacrificed his childhood and time with his parents to pursue his dream, you felt more inclined to watch over him than the others who were adults by the time you joined. You were there for his first heartbreak, his first drink, his high school graduation; the point is, you were there and you held him every time he struggled with problems—mostly girl problems—he's too shy to seek his hyungs for.

But now with his growth spurt, cuddling up to you like he used to when he was younger with his gangly legs awkwardly hanging from the couch, carelessly leaning his head in between the mounds of your breast while his large hand mindlessly drew circles on your knee, you found yourself wondering about the appropriateness of it all.

A man and a woman alone in a room at night in close proximity, body leaning against each other. Society would argue they wouldn’t end the night as friends anymore after the encounter.

You paused mid-drink and grimaced.

It must be the beer talking.

"Noona."

"Yeah?"

"Wrap your arms around me, it's cold."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "It's not though? I always keep my house warm." 

He let out an exasperated groan before reaching behind to grab your arm and roughly slinging it on his shoulders.

As time continued its cycle and episodes started to fly across the screen, the pile of opened beer cans on the table expanded. You really tried to focus on the movie but the feeling of his fingers tracing stars on your bare thigh left you oddly bothered. Jungkook has shifted his position higher at some point during the movie, his body now turned sideways, successfully squeezing himself into the small space between you and the back of the couch, legs entangling itself with yours while an arm is thrown across your body.

This position puts his nose closer to your ears and it makes you shiver. The feel of his hot breath fanning across your skin has given you more goosebumps in under an hour more than you've had throughout your life.

Even drunk, you could feel the building tension thickening around you and the will to tell him to off ebbs away with every caress of his fingers.

Gone were the innocent traces of stars and hearts on your thigh, his hand now grabbed onto your waist almost possessively, thumb rolling slow circles on your bare stomach; the motion conjuring the most unholiest of thoughts known to mankind.

When the credits started rolling, you knew you had to draw the line before you lost yourself to intoxicated thoughts and end the night with regrets.

"Time for you to go home now, your hyungs must be looking for you."

You tried prying his hand from your waist so you could reach for your phone on the table only for him to tighten around you, stopping you from moving away. He groaned, head nuzzling closer into your neck and his lips grazed your skin. 

Instantly, electric jolts shoot through your body.

"Jungkook, I need to get my phone and tell someone to fetch you from here."

"Can't I just stay the night? I'm too comfortable right now…"

The gruff in his voice and the sensation of his lips moving on your skin has your stomach fluttering and you're too drunk to address the growing heat in your abdomen but thanked the sense of professionalism seeping through the fogs of your intoxicated mind.

Managing to pry him off, you reached for your phone and opened up SMS to tell Jin to pick their youngest up.

           [01:21] You: Jwannn

           [01:21] You: can you pick up your kid from my house? He's drunk and stinkyyy

           [01:23] Jinnie: your knight in shining armor is on the way!

“Just let me stay the nighttt,” he whined into your skin.

"I don't have any more spare beds other than this couch for you to sleep in, Gguk. I turned the other room into a closet, remember?"

"I can just sleep with you on the bed, we used to do that, didn't we?"

He attempted to reach around you again but you pushed his limbs away once more before slapping his arm.

You tried not noticing how thicker and harder the muscles felt, you really did. 

"But it's different now, Gguk. Come on, go wash up and drink water, I've already told someo—"

The moment you rose to stand, his arms shot around your waist in record speed and pulled you flush to his front, nuzzling his nose on the back of your neck before he sighed. When the first hot exhale hits your skin, you flinch away but the limbs wounded tightly around your middle restrict you from moving.

You try to ignore the heat simmering under your skin but it was hard when you felt the press of his plush lips on your nape as he leans closer into your skin. 

“You always smell so nice, noona.” He whispered breathily, the sensation of his moving mouth sending shivers down your spine and you shivered.

“I-I can give you my lotion brand later, let me go so I can get it.”

“But I'm comfortable here…”

Mustering every strength left in your body, you manage to pull an arm out of the death grip he had on your body and slapped his hand. Jungkook easily ignores it.

“Come on Gguk, let me out now. This isn't appropriate.”

"How is it different now?"

The alcohol intoxicating your system loosened your grip on your inhibitions and your lips regrettably moved faster than your brain.

"You're a man now, Gguk. Honestly, we shouldn't be even doing this right now. It's inappropriate."

You try to stand once more, managing to pry him from your waist and standing up before his arms hooked around you once more and tugging you back down, this time on his lap as he burrows his head onto your back.

"Gguk?"

"Yo-you see me as a man, noona?"

As a child your mother has taught you how words could heavily influence and drastically change a situation, now as an adult, you've mastered the art of speech. But as you sit still on his thighs, body warm and inhibitions blurred by the alcohol, your loose lips have led you back to the very thing you try to avoid.

"It's hard not to think so when you've grown up this much."

In a flash, Jungkook is now hovering over your face as he places you back down on the couch, his nose a hair's width from touching yours and his hands planted on each side of your head. 

There's a feral hunger swimming in his eyes as it stared into yours, desperate and intense before it fell to the plush of your parted lips and his gaze darkens. All of a sudden, you're a prey pinned down by an apex predator who's ready to devour you at any given moment.

Fire alarms blared in your mind and you regained control over your senses.

“Jungkook.”

"Noona."

You tried wriggling out of his grasp but it was no use, he's stronger. "Get off of me, kid."

“How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not a kid anymore?”

“I'm not hearing anything out when you're acting like this, Gguk.”

He scoffed. “I just want to sleep here, in the same bed, nothing else is gonna happen. Why is it such a bad thing?”

“It's different now, Gguk. Come on, let me go.”

“How is it so different? You and Jimin hyung cuddle sometimes, I've seen you fall asleep next to Hobi hyung once, why is it different with me?”

“It's different because we're both drunk and things could happen.”

“I wouldn't mind it.” Jungkook responds with a cheeky smile. His grip on one of your wrist loosened enough that you were able to hit his arm and he giggled in response.

“But I do. It wouldn't be fair.”

Even something as small as letting one member stay at your home without the others can be the loudest announcement for the rest of the group. All those times you've rejected your friends, with reasons like ‘I don’t want to risk everything’, and ‘I don't want to hurt the others’, to turn back around to accept their youngest would be hypocritical of you.

He scoffs. "You tell us about all your stupid dates, don't you think it's more unfair for us?”

A familiar weight grows in your chest. Guilt tasted like rust on your tongue and dug into your heart with a ribbed knife. Your own late night thoughts manifesting before you and you pushed him away.

After everything, you were all friends, you trusted them more than you do with your other circle. There's not a secret left undiscussed between the eight of you so it was no surprise that you had indulged them with the details of your quest for a husband. Nobody ever raised any complaints with you sharing your days so you never thought twice about it.

It's been five years since Jin had confessed, three for Taehyung. Their eldest had confessed for the sake of him finally being able to move on after your rejection and with how he acted after, you had believed him. It was different for Taehyung who had continued to act like normal after his confession, neither dejected nor did he show signs of letting go but he did introduce a date to your group once, a year later, so you had assumed the same.

Were you wrong after all?

“Jungkook, we're drunk. Let’s talk about this tom—”

“I've never been more sober in my life than I am right now, noona.”

You didn't respond, couldn't reply.

What were you supposed to even say?

Jungkook usually obeyed you and his hyungs without hesitation, happily offering his aid whenever he could. He's the type of friend who's run himself dry just to fetch you a cup of water from the other side of the world but now as he hovers over you, he became a whole new person.

Greed has always been an irritating parasite that eats away at a person's morals but somehow in your drunken mind, you thought it looked so good on him. It fits him and his generous character the way one light clothing molds well with the dark fabrics. His familiar scent of vanilla and coconut clouded your senses, calming your panicking mind into a hush, leaving nothing but the thoughts of how his lips tasted and wondering if he’s as sweet as he smelled.

He let out a shaky exhale from through his mouth as he watched your parted lips with a rapt attention as if hypnotized by the way they subtly trembled with every breath that passed through.

In the pregnant silence of your room, his voice cuts through like a knife.

“Can I kiss you?”

He whispers against your lips, voice breaking in the middle from the weight of his request, honeyed and pleading, as if your kiss holds the answer to the problems of the world and holds the power to break him.

His hand travels up to cup your cheek oh so carefully like you're fragile china yet you feel yourself shatter under his touch.

You are losing grasp on your sober thoughts as lust starts to cloud your already compromised judgment, his request far too tempting to ignore.

Maybe a kiss wouldn’t hurt. 

But wouldn’t it be unfair for the others who have expressed their romantic intentions to you since years ago? 

It was a last ditch effort to reason with your mind and your body froze from the cold wave of realization. In the short time after his question, you recall the confessions you turned down to not ruin the relationship Bangtan has established for themselves and the bitter taste it left on your tongue.

“Jungkook… we can’t.”

Watching his expression contort into confused hurt almost made you want to take your words back, but your mind takes you to memories of apologetic and understanding smiles you’ve received throughout the years and the aches from those moments resurfaces, squeezing your heart in a tight grip.

“I-I’m sorry I can’t control my feelings, I just wanted to tell you about it… Thought that maybe after this, I could move on.” An apologetic voice whispers, the memory of premature confessions in the middle of a cleanup resurfacing.

“I can’t—I can’t do it to them, it’d be unfair.”

You pushed him back and he relented, letting himself be sat back onto the other side of the couch defeatedly. Despite it, his tight grip on your waist remained, pulling you flush to him and burying his face in your chest as if trying to hear the lie in your words through the beatings of your heart.

“I’m also seeing Guwon now.”

“Then don’t let me meet him. I-I don’t know if I can take it.”

It was heart wrenching and at the same time, left an uncomfortable twist in your stomach. Jungkook never had to beg since you first met him, everything he could ever want was given to him by you and his hyungs without hesitation. Hearing him plead for you to never bring Guwon around if fate had actually paired you both, it was a different kind of pain.

It felt like thorns growing and rooting its stems of pointy ends into the deepest parts of your heart. You hated this, but you don’t want to hurt any of your boys by accepting one.

Relief comes in the form of Taehyung when he busted into your apartment while Jungkook has excused himself to your bathroom to sober up just a moment before. Seokjin trails behind him, calmer than the younger man who declared his arrival with a deep voice and a loud bang of the door. You immediately thought of the elderly couple and the new family of three living next to you and internally facepalmed.

“Noona! We’ve come to take Jungkook away!”

Kim Seokjin’s face has never been more handsome when he closed the door behind him, and you verbalized your thought, leading his ears to glow red in embarrassment.

“Am I only handsome to you when I’m closing the doors?! This face that people fawn over all over the world?!”

“It’s your true calling, door guy.”

“Oh shut it hyung, you’re making my head hurt.” Jungkook mutters as he reentered the living room, looking far better than when he left.

The tension was palpable, the effect of a rejected profession still raw and thick in the small joined space of the living room and kitchen and you caught Jin's eyes as the two youngest bickered, there’s a knowing look passed between you, an unsaid ‘let’s talk later’ hanging in the air.

“Hey, just because you got to escape Hoba’s practice without scratch doesn't mean you're hot shit, show me some respect!”

Seokjin scolds, accompanied by a playful kick to their youngest’s butt. Immediately the stuffy air dissipates and Jungkook responds in kind; by kicking him in the shin, hard enough to launch Seokjin into another lengthy nag.

It was a quick retrieval after his rant. Jungkook lets himself be towed out of your apartment by an oddly enthusiastic Taehyung who's going on about a new game trailer he saw online while Jin has offered to be left behind to clean up the mess. It was no doubt obvious, the familiar awkwardness and tenseness brought by a rejected confession lingered in the air when they arrived, it only took him one look at you and he already knew. 

The moment the door slams shut behind the boys, he immediately began:

“Did he admit it?”

His voice was soft yet it rang loudly in the pindrop silence of your living room. The sigh he let out echoed more when you nodded.

“I told him to not do it, you know? But you know how stubborn he gets.”

You didn’t reply. You simply move, walking to the trash bin to put the empty beer cans in and Jin follows close with the bowls stacked on top of each other to place in the sink. It was a brief moment of reprieve. He let the moment from earlier simmer in your stomach, let the smoke from it fill your lungs and weigh your heart till you burst.

Out of the seven boys, you've always turned to either him or Yoongi as they're older than you, so it came to nobody's shock when you break and told him.

“It just never gets better, I always feel guilty even if I didn’t choose. I’m just lucky I didn’t have to suffer through seven of these, I don’t think I could take it and just quit.”

It was a thought you’ve entertained when Taehyung came to you with his heart in his hand, giving it to you carelessly despite knowing how you’ve handled the other confessions. He was all dopey smiles and flushed cheeks, it continued even when you’ve pushed his heart back to him with an apologetic look.

Seeing the happy creases in his eyes iron out despite the huge boxy smile continuing to play on his lips, the existing pressuring guilt reawakened. Taehyung’s heart that gleamed and glowed gold, vulnerable for you to take and use from where it settled in the middle of his offering palms. You could’ve taken advantage of it all as they were rising in fame, when they were facing discrimination from the other companies and had found comfort in you but you didn’t.

Even with the attraction you've felt for them, you were nothing but a makeup artist to the company. Another asset to deploy and replace if it got annoying to handle. You couldn't risk your career on uncertainties, this is your dream job.

You loved them all equally and held them in the same regards as the others, they’re your best friends, chosen soul companions even without the marks to solidify it. 

They loved you and you loved them all but you wouldn't bet your life on an uncertain future.

“You should give us more credit, you know?” 

He says from the kitchen sink, the sound of water slowing into a halt. Seokjin didn’t move for a while. When he did, it was to place down the plates, washing his hands before turning around to face you.

“We’re grown adults now, we can handle rejection so don’t feel too bad about it. You can choose and we’d even help you keep it a secret from everyone besides us eight.”

It was genuine. Even in the haze of your intoxication, those words felt like a cool balm for your aching heart. While Namjoon’s words were cited research, formal and factual and Yoongi’s were calming droughts to ease the discomfort of sadness brought by gloomy thoughts, Seokjin speaks from the heart, true and unbiased but says it with a gentleness and care. 

Guilt sets like a boulder on your heart. Being able to feel, to experience such a privilege when all you've done is break his heart since your hunt for a husband, the weight in your chest multiplied and tears sprung from your eyes.

You wanted them but you couldn't risk your dream job, couldn't risk a friendship as precious as theirs for kisses and hugs that eventually has its ends.

You didn’t even notice it when he crossed the distance between you both and pulled you plush to his chest but you recognized the familiar sensation of plush lips pressing against your forehead.

If it lingered a few seconds past what's platonically allowed, you didn’t mention it.

Seokjin’s muted scent of freshly baked cakes brought silence to the rampaging waves of thoughts in your mind and if you pressed your nose flush to his chest to bury yourself in his fragrance, he didn’t say anything, bringing one hand behind your head protectively.

“I'm sorry to put you through this pain, Jinnie. I-I didn’t know.”

“I knew you didn’t know but I'll be fine... eventually.” He breathes out before leaning down to bury himself into the nest of your hair. "As long as you're happy, then I am too."

It was heavy, being loved and held so preciously even after you’ve turned him down, it felt cruel, sadistic even. But like the selfish woman you are, you accepted it. Soaked in his affections greedily.

“You know, he asked me to never show Guwon around you guys.”

He sighed. “I knew he would.”

“Do you want that as well?

Silence followed but you heard his answer loud and clear.

The second date happened after the first leg of the tour in Seoul.

Although planned suddenly, you appreciated the downtime after being lost in the haze of rushed outfit changes, reapplying makeup, and patting sweat from foreheads. If anything, you were thankful you could loosen up after earlier. The awkward tension didn’t go amiss, it only took Namjoon and Yoongi one look between you and Jungkook before taking charge on how the night progresses.

Yoongi didn't waste any time waving you over to ask for help for his makeup, even when he was already being prepped by one of your older colleagues, Ji hae. Thankfully, the woman lets you take over, saying she wanted a snack anyways.

The man didn't bother asking you what happened and settled comfortably in his chair but not before offering you the snack he bought earlier and was laying neglected on his lap. Yoongi asked about Guwon in a hushed voice, because while you were living in a reverse harem with most of his brothers, he was genuinely curious about your boyfriend-to-be.

Maybe it was the fact he has never admitted his affections for you that made it comfortable to discuss topics you could never talk about with the others with him, but you let your tongue a little loose.

And he listened.

Yoongi has always been a man of action not words, his love language has always been opening water bottles, blankets appearing from nowhere when you're passed out on their couch, and listening attentively. Despite what the world says about his nonchalance and silence, in your eyes, he's the sweetest guy on the roster—not that you'd tell Jimin that of course, he'd riot if he were to find out.

By the end of the concert, Guwon asks you on an impromptu date. A simple late night walk on a market nearby because there's apparently a food fair, and as usual, the expenses are on him. Hungry with a principle of never turning down free food, of course you accepted. 

Though you had a long time deciding whether to go or not with Jungkook’s confession still fresh.

Minutes later, he's waiting for you by the exit. The scene of him leaning on his Mercedes, waiting for you to reach him at the bottom of the stairs looks like it was pulled out of a kdrama.

Oddly enough, they didn’t question your lack of updates in the group chat but Jimin reached out later on and you suspect he told everyone your whereabouts instead, hopefully minus the date part to spare the others (read: Jungkook) from heartbreak.

The fair looked like a mirage of a paradise in the night hidden away in a small gently-lit up alley. The path was lightened up with gentle lanterns hung above you, the warm colors setting a more intimate scene. It wasn’t as luxurious as dinner from yesterday or as calming as the bike ride around the Han river but you appreciated it nonetheless.

You’re ready to drop dead but you pushed through, you wanted this relationship to work. Because then, maybe the monsters—your mother and her wide selection of personalities as well as aunties, her friends, trying to refer you to their horrible sons—haunting you from under your bed will finally leave you alone.

It was cruel that you’re using someone else to erase the memory of being professed to by one of your best friends.

Guwon was happy enough to take charge the whole date, leading you from food stall after food stall, ordering whatever your eyes lingered at which is half of what the fair offers. He understands your lack of responses as it is, tired from work, and talked enough for the both of you. Which you are grateful for.

He talked about his job and what happened that day, willingly telling you about the story of how he and his co-workers clicked back in College, never to part till now in the field they wanted. He spoke of his dreams, how he envisioned his dream home by the province surrounded by nature and the cat named Nabi waiting for him at home.

There's nothing more blatant of a signal than the last part, whether you accept it or not depends on you.

Normally, you would've frowned at the thought, immediately thinking of running away but as the night deepens and stalls start to close, the idea grows more and more tempting despite the logical voice in your head disagreeing. Seeking a distraction and possibly leading on a kind man is cruel, both to him and you.

But at the end of the day, it’s just an escape from the reality you're stuck in, a temporary answer to a long time problem. 

How harmful can it be? 

People had hookups before, you’ve had hookups before your mother has started a hunt for your husband this year so what are you so reluctant for? 

If this man is to be your husband, you should check your physical compatibility right?

You shivered. God, you sounded like one of those shitty guys you’ve dated before.

"Hey, the stalls just closed. Are you fine with me driving you back to your house?"

His voice cuts through your deep thoughts and you turn to him. Even in the dimly lit corner of the alley, Guwon looked attractive as ever with his dimpled smile and laid back attitude, his soft eyes gleaming under the lanterns, affections overflowing from his gaze and you. shuddered from its weight. 

Staring at the man, you wondered if you'd ever fall in love with him as he seemed right now.

Soon enough, you both arrive in front of your apartment building. However, not every plan goes through as you thought it'd go and you find two familiar figures rushing down to meet you. 

Taehyung didn't hesitate to run up to you with open arms and a wide smile. He didn't even care that you both almost toppled over if it wasn't for Guwon hand supporting you from the back.

"Wh-why are you two here? Shouldn't you guys be resting?"

Jimin shrugged but you caught the mischievous glint in his eyes as a small smile tugs his lips. "Hyung got so worried and wanted us to make sure you got home safely."

"Even a thumbs up would be great but you ignored every text and call! Jin hyung panicked and sent us out, if you didn't come home, he would've had a huge manhunt for you." Taehyung chimed in, pulling away but keeping his hands on your shoulders as he stared deep into your eyes, as if trying to hypnotize you into believing them.

Jimin snickered. “Yoongi hyung was an hour away from declaring you missing so the good dongsaengs we are, we decided to camp outside your apartment.”

You would've accepted his explanation, it was logically sound yet the dark glint of mischief and something else in his eyes as his gaze bounced from you to Guwon told you a different story.

They've always had to interrupt your dates when it becomes sour but this was the first time they've confronted a potential partner outside the intentions of ruining a date because you wanted it to suck.

This was them laying their claim over their own, a silent statement. A declaration you try not to think so much about, fearing you'd dig yourself deep and fall to your death.

“These must be one of your kids?” Guwon asks from behind, reminding you of his presence and you turn to him with an apologetic look.

“Yeah, Taehyung and Jimin. I practically raised them.”

Jimin scoffs and your head snapped to him, widening your eyes in warning to which he ignored. “Just because you’re a year older, doesn’t mean you could say you raised us you know?”

“See what I deal with everyday?” 

Guwon laughs lightheartedly before patting your head to get your attention. “Since your kids are here to protect you, I should get going now.”

“Drive safely.”

“See you soon?”

“Definitely.”

Then he placed a haste kiss on the edge of your lips, catching you off guard and you froze. Guwon was already in his car by the time you realized what happened and turned to chastise him. You couldn't even knock on the passenger window when the arms coiled around your shoulders tightened and tugged you close.

Letting Guwon kiss you in front of one of the men who confessed to you once was the first mistake, second was looking up at Taehyung whose hug is starting to hurt.

Gone were the usual giddiness and child-like enthusiasm that would pour from his eyes. It was replaced by a colder glare, almost blank and emotionless as it narrowed behind you and jaw locked tight. There was something primal in the way his hand behind your head was pushing you closer to him as if he was hounding over his game from another predator.

Goosebumps prickled your skin awake.

If butterflies exploded in your stomach and ignited a molten heat in your abdomen at that very moment, it's a secret you’d take to your grave.

“Tae?”

“Noona, I think we should head inside. It's getting cold.” Jimin’s sweet voice sounded forced and you resisted the urge to look at him.

While their reaction to being challenged is obvious, you couldn't, for the life of you, figure out why he should feel like that when he’s been seeing other people since his confession. From your past dates where he attended as one of your escape plans, he’s  never expressed such an intense show of displeasure so you thought his fleeting crush had passed.

Until tonight.

When Taehyung pulled away, the traces of his hostility were gone and you had to double take at how vastly different he's appearing now. He has his lower lip pushed out into a pout, eyes wide with mirth as he reaches up to cup your cheeks, his warm palms heating your cold-nipped skin.

“Aigoo, you're so cold noona. Let's go in and binge that foreign show you've been following.”

With hands now intertwined, he leads you inside the building where Jimin was already standing inside and was holding the door open for you both. You were being tugged into your own home yet you couldn’t help but feel tense as Taehyung and Jimin welcomed you back in with the same dark look you saw earlier.

[unforth]

Alright not to like liveblog my breakdown on main but yesterday was a really bad day after a really bad, like, 4 months, and I've hit a bit of a breaking point and one of the only things in my life that can give is running @mdzsartreblogs , @tgcfartreblogs , @svsssartreblogs , @erhaartreblogs , @tykartreblogs , and @cnovelartreblogs , so that is what has to give. It's been a 99-out-of-100 days thankless job. A small number of people do say thank you and yall I appreciate you so much (HUGE shout-out to the artist I met at Flamecon who gifted me a zine when I said I ran these blogs, @bonesblubs you rock) but I have never done an act of fandom labor simultaneously this labor intensive yet this invisible before and, uh. It sucks. I spend an hour or more a day on this every day, if it's under 2k hours since I started the first of these in September 2020 I'd be shocked. And I do it because I love it but doing it means I don't have time or energy to do other things I love. And I really don't want to just quit, but I can't keep this up.

In a last-ditch effort to try not to just give up, I'm making the following changes:

1. Only watching one tag per fandom for the MXTX fandoms. I am going to check *only* #tgcf, #svsss, and #mdzs. Artwork posted to any other tag, I will not see unless a mutual reblogs it.

2. Reduced tagging (even more). I'm only going to tag characters and maybe overarching au type (eg, "modern au," "fantasy au"). I'll no longer tag creatures. I will continue to tag the same common trigger warnings I already tag.

3. If a work's appearance doesn't make it obvious what it is AND the tags aren't clear, I'm not going to reblog. I can't keep spending 5 minutes or more trying to figure out what I'm even looking at, scared that if I guess wrong the artist will get mad at me for mistagging their work. If I do reblog, I'll tag only the artist name and/or whatever else I can identify for sure.

4. I am no longer going to follow #link click. The fandom is just too big. I've started dreading checking it. If I was more into it and less busy I would make another spin off just for it but neither of those is true. (The art is so good, I hate to do this, but. If you love link click, highly recommend the main tag, lots of great stuff there.)

5. I will no longer tag any non-cnovel content in the art/post. Like, if someone draws, idek, Xie Lian and Marinette from Ladybug, I'm not gonna put any tags for Marinette, just for Xie Lian.

6. Basically if I run into something hard to tag or confusing or unclear, my new policy is I'm not gonna fricken bother.

I think those are everything but idefk, I cried for 3 hours last night and got 4 hours of sleep so I'm mostly fueled by exhaustion and desperation right now and my memory is even more fried than usual.

How artists can help. This is obviously all optional. You do you. But since some people might want to know what would make my life easier, I'm sharing. I'm not claiming I feel entitled to dictate how people fandom or anything like that.

1. Put the tags for the character(s) and ship(s) early in the tag list.

2. If you make art for a fandom that isn't one of the big ones (right now the only big danmei fandoms on tumblr as far as I can tell are the MXTX fandoms and maybe 2ha) I am begging you to use my tracked tag #cnovelartreblogs

3. Do mdzs art? Tag #mdzs. Do tgcf art? Tag #tgcf. Do svsss art? Tag #svsss.

4. Not only artists, but everyone, *please* stop tagging fandoms not discussed and/or depicted in your post. It's gotten to be stupid common for people to blanket the danmei fandom tags with posts only about one fandon (like, svsss-only works also being tagged mdzs and tgcf and 2ha for some damn reason). This isn't about just my sideblogs tbh this is just fandom etiquette that seems to have been forgotten or never learned by many. Tagging unrelated fandoms isn't "reach," it's annoying. People go into the #mdzs tag to see mdzs, not whatever not-mdzs stuff people have decided to tag for ~reach~, and seeing the same post in 8 tags, none of which it's related to, is so damn irritating, and makes scrolling the tags looking for content that IS relevant take that much longer. Knock it off.

Okay. I think that's as much as I'm prepared to meltdown where everyone can see. Thanks in advance everyone for your understanding, and apologies to everyone about to see this 8 times as I reblog it to each sideblog.

At least I'm not tagging it to everywhere. 🤣🤣🤣

[feyd-meowtha]

@middlingmay's Fic Rec Questions

I saw this list and thought it would be fun to give it a go!!

1) Fic that's made you laugh the most

He May Be The Reason by @c-goldthorn. It's a Clegan Notting Hill au and it makes me squeal with delight. So cute that I got distracted while reading it and missed my stop on the train.

2) A fic that made you cry

my kingdom for a kiss upon your shoulder by pillar of our community @swifty-fox. I'm sure most ppl have probably read this one but it's such an amazing post-show continuation that really doesn't pull it's punches when it comes to both PTSD and the realities of being gay in the 40s

3) Fave comfort, silly fic

It's a little rogue but I'm gonna say Awake, Alive by the wonderful @whirlpool-blogs. It's a pet sematary au so not exactly what you would call traditionally comforting but the ending makes me so happy and the whole thing is just a joy. The fact that this came to mind when I thought 'comfort fic' is probably pretty telling about me as a person....

4) The fic that made you try a genre or trope that you don't usually read

This is also a bit rogue but it was tricky since I'll read anything, so I'll go with Strings of the Strings of Life by the lovely @weimarweekly, not because of any of the content but because I don't, as a general rule, read Dune fic that was written after Dune 2 released. I've bored everyone to tears with my complaints about that version of Feyd but it is what it is so I tend not to like any fics written about that version of the character BUT the prospect of a feydpaul Berlin techno au was too delicious to resist and the whole fic is so fun. It makes me miss Germany sooo bad.

5) An author who has inspired your own fic writing

This one has got to go to the anonymous author of both Close And Yet Closer and The Replacement. Both of these fics are god tier and their character psychology and willingness to allow their versions of the characters and relationships to be ugly and messy are so inspiring to me. They were also the first person in the John/Hausman tag on ao3 which is currently just me and them. I think about the replacement all the time and it was a HUGE influence on 3am Eternal. If I can ever write half as well as them I will die happy.

6) What are your fave underdog authors? Those that you feel are underappreciated and deserve a bit more love

Hmmm, this is kinda hard cus the MOTA fandom is pretty small so I feel like a lot of stuff gets decent buzz. Imma shout out @whirlpool-blogs again and especially their fucked up clegans fics, I have read and reread all of their works and they're always so so good. I will also add @steeseman for Up In Our Bedroom. It's another great post-canon fic and while it has a lot of hits, I don't think I've seen anyone talking about it on here.

7) What's one thing you wish writers/readers did more of when it comes to fanfiction.

The obvious one is comment, it really does make my day when I get a nice comment, even just a couple words or an emoji mean a lot. The other thing I would say is writing curt/Kenny fic, there's not much out there and I want more please. Also more fics where characters relationships are like genuinely kind of fucked up and toxic. I love that shit.

8) What's one thing you wish writers/readers did less of when it comes to fanfiction.

Oh man, I really do not know. The only thing I can think of is that I hate the word 'yap' or 'yapping' so if I see it in a fic I shudder. Hmmmm, I guess I also wish that there was a little more consideration when writing Gale's dad as an alcoholic because it's often treated as the basis for him being a shitty person. Addicts aren't automatically bad people and I sometimes feel like it's portrayed that way. @blixabargelds wrote an excellent post on this

9) I'm adding an extra one and that is current WIPs I am reading

Sympathy For The Devil by @blixabargelds, it's a modern ghost hunting AU and the set up is AMAZING. I will also throw Superstar in here even though it's not releasing main story chapters yet, everything Frankie writes is so tailored to my personal tastes it's crazy and I am so excited to read @mildharm's John POV chapters too. Literally foaming at the mouth thinking about it rn. When it starts being released fully, I fear it may kill me.

Love Song From A Dog and The Heart Is A Muscle by @swifty-fox. I've only just started THIAM but I'm so hyped for their take on the tattoo shop/flower shop au.

Hit Me Where The Heart Is by @london-cowboy makes me legitimately insane. I jump for joy whenever there is a new update, these versions of the characters and their stories are, as Paris Hilton would say, beyond. I do not have the words to say how much I am loving this fic. The characters and setting feel so real and it's just so creative. AMAZING.

I need to get around to starting let us not desert one another; we are an injured body and also the time skip fic whose name escapes me by @irregularcollapse and also catching up with @weimarweekly's rodeo fic, Looking For Eight

Writing this was very fun and I encourage anyone reading to give it a go if they fancy it!!

[screamingcrows]

I am sadly not immune to all the talk of Veritas Ratio in a modern university setting... (Manu - I hope I can call you that - your posts are so sweet) pair that with the autumn mood and you get this;

tags: pure fluff, they're about to be dating your honor, modern university au

minors do not interact!

Veritas had been puzzled at first, while it wasn't exactly odd for you to be fidgeting with something during lectures, it was usually limited to a specific set of items: your water bottle, some form of pen (he had a spare of your preferred tucked away in his bag for the inevitable bad days where you'd had to leave your dorm in a hurry), or the keychain on your bag.

Whatever this new item to catch your attention was, your hand had practically been glued to the inside of your pocket for two weeks.

Conveniently hidden out of sight, forcing his hand.

He catches you at your usual autumn spot, at least it was last year, a fairly secluded bench sheltered from the elements by four old chestnut trees.

You jerk in surprise when he sits down next to you, and warmth blooms in his chest when you close the book in your hand and lightly smack the top of his head. Still, there's no real power behind it. Only one hand is holding the book after all.

"Your pocket," his gaze is momentarily drawn to a lone magpie rummaging through the first yellow leaves to bed the ground.

"My pocket?"

A sigh leaves his lips as you parrot his words, turning to look upon your face. Veritas thinks his heart might burst at the soft confusion etched into your features, so reminiscent of a delicately carved masterpiece and still containing so much that could never be conveyed through cold stone.

"Yes. You've been fiddling with something in your pocket for a few weeks. At first I assumed it was a loose thread, but it persisted through days regardless of your outfit," cool air caressed his cheeks as he breathed, carefully tuning his voice to your widening eyes, "naturally, I've grown curious as to the nature of that item."

Silence sweeps through the air, enough that Veritas can faintly hear the buzz of people closer to campus. What would normally be comfortable, has him shifting a bit. Too keenly aware of your downcast eyes, his hands find solace in adjusting his scarf.

It feels invasive when you pull your hand out, and he finds that perhaps this knowledge wasn't worth the price. But the words never make it from the tip of his tongue, not before you've opened your hand to reveal a single chestnut.

He blinks, the smooth brown reflecting what warm sunlight pierces the overhanging canopy.

You're already talking again, "-and I've just always grabbed one since that, it's just a silly tradition but I enjoy it and it's harmless and-"

"Would you tell me how, in detail?"

The way your shoulders slumped a little confirmed his theory, you'd been about to rile yourself up with nervous ramblings. Veritas turned towards you, leaning against the bench while you sought out words.

"The first thing you do is to gather the very first chestnut you lay eyes on," what else was there to do but oblige in the face of your expectant pause, "and then you whisper a wish to it."

Again, he obliges, wringing his nose at the faint scent of detritus that already clings to anything picked from the ground.

"Now you just, well you carry it with you, just like you carry a wish. And if the wish comes true, then you take it to a stream and throw it in after thanking it."

"And if it doesn't?"

Veritas notes with satisfaction how smooth the chestnut feels under his skin, and how pleased you look upon catching him shift it between fingers.

"Then you return it to the ground, bury it somewhere, and let it bloom when spring comes."

A charming sentiment, even if you kept waving your hands dismissively. There'd been no deeper meaning behind it, just a parent taking measures to keep little hands occupied.

It was sweet, the memories painting your eyes with colors he couldn't imagine never getting to see again. Time worked differently with you, it always did, and too soon did the evening air chill.

Several hours had passed, time that Veritas should have spent studying, had allocated in his schedule for completing at least two assignments. Yet he couldn't quite find it in himself to mourn.

"Here," he removed his scarf to bundle it around your neck, deft hands adjusting it to let you breathe, "you were shaking, maybe it's time to head inside?"

Something foreign drifted through your eyes and held him captive, leaning forward like this would make it so easy to-

Your lips were just as forgiving as your words, molding perfectly against his even in the brief moment before his mind caught up and he pulled back.

An apology was at the tip of his tongue, cheeks already heating up and mind thrown into a frenzy unrivaled by the most advanced calculations.

All thoughts of your friendship souring turned to dust when he saw you stand, throwing your chestnut as far towards the little lake nearby as you could.

Oh.

With a thundering heart, Veritas pocketed his own chestnut, unable to resist the urge to give it a little pat.

"Wait- you still have yours? Veritas what did you wish for?"

A laugh bubbled from his chest at your expression morphing from bliss to pure petulance, the sound sending flutters through his body, how rarely he could let go.

And always in your presence.

"Veritas! It's not funny, it would've been so romantic!"

He merely hummed, enjoying the fleeting heat of your skin as he brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, "perhaps I wished for something less fleeting."

[pinep-ne]

Req: How do you think Charles and Arthur's first romantic dance went out? It can be a drabble or one shot, whichever you'd like! Go ham-

Ohh I love this.. I have an answer and a little one-shot for you. I got really carried away with this one,,

I think in a modern au, which is what I am assuming, for the sake of *romantic* and their *first*, it'd have to be the classic dinner date.

I like to think they knew each other beforehand from work or similar, and after some painfully obvious pining, Abby and Hosea were practically begging Arthur to just ask the dude.

I've never really thought of Charles being the type to initiate too much in relationships, being alone for so much of his life, and Arthur's probably had more experience being a ladies' man if Mary says anything, so I thought the trope fit. And with Charles being a closed book, Arthur probably didn't have any other promising ideas such as this one.

So he pops the question, to which he receives a sheepish yes. Panics a little because he was fully expecting to be friend-zoned, or a secret open-ended thing in between, and also had nothing else planned except for a place, a budget, and the time.

Of course the cherry on top is that the 'table-for-two at a warmly lit and hushed restaurant that pours champagne for hundreds' scene isn't really something familiar to either of them, so the dinner itself ends up pretty abysmal. I mean the evening is nice, and they're clicking, and it's not necessarily awkward, but they'd really just rather be anywhere but here.

Anywho. In truth, as their relationship unfurls I think Charles and Arthur would kind of stray to the more unconventional dates— hiking, camping, volunteer work, roadtrips, etc etc. It's safe to say a rich and lavish night of romance isn't really something they're super inclined to. Plus, there's just something a little impersonal about sitting across from the table from your potential lover, and these idiots have always seemed like the 'parallel play' type to me.

I hope I've embodied a lot of this in the fic well enough... sorry if it's all a bit of a spoiler!

Anywho. I hope you enjoy!!!!!!!!! It gets a little introspective like most of my works... so apologies in advance. And for reference, this is probably set in the early 2000s.

(i have this fic and more posted on ao3!)

----------

Arthur leans across the center console, trying to catch a glimpse of the apartment numbers once more. Re-checks his watch. Flips the visor down, and re-checks himself. He gives the reflection a once-over, kneading at his face, flicking back a particular chunk of hair, only for it to bounce back over his forehead. Curses, mulling over for the umpteenth time this whole affair, and steps out of the truck.

He thinks, immediately, that he should've asked earlier. In April, or something. Not December, when the sun's always further than it should be, and the truck only starts up on a prayer. It's too cold to wear something nice without it looking unfitting, but he supposes he's done okay. He wonders if Charles is any better, as if the man's ever looked bad a day in his life.

The quick jaunt to the door has his stomach flipping inside itself. He buzzes once, and twice, and considers a third time before it squeals open. Straightens. Crosses his arms before letting them down again at his sides. Thinks it better to just push them both into his pockets.

Charles is there, like he should be.

He's wearing about the same thing Arthur is, about the same thing they both wear normally, only more polished. Boots and jeans and a simple flannel, covered by a thickly lined denim jacket.

He gives Arthur a look. Something akin to amusement, maybe. Holds his gaze to Arthur's and gifts him an earnest little smile, like it's a secret just for the two of them.

Usually, he's got an inch or two on Charles, but with the man on the doorstep, Arthur's looking up a good bit. He's got one hand on the door, the other occupied with necessities, rested in the air with idle anticipation. Gaze following Arthur's every move, every frantic bout of shuffling, and fidgeting.

Arthur's chest stirs at the sight, at the tilt he keeps his neck to. He lingers on the feeling, and breaks the contact, looking over his shoulder while it settles.

It takes a second or three for him to even process that he's supposed to do something. He shifts on his heels and lets out a chuckle himself, smiling ear to ear.

"Hey," he huffs, and gazes up once more.

"Hey," Charles mimics. It makes them both laugh, the whole situation. Arthur can't seem to wipe the smile off his own face at that. He shoves fists further into his pockets, glances back to the truck, then down at his feet. Face feeling like ice, burning at the core. He's sure it's screaming quite a shade of red.

He steps back, letting Charles step onto the porch beside him. "You ready?" He asks, to which Charles hums.

They both settle in the truck. Arthur quickly fumbles for the keys before he can bear any drawn silence. His shoulders drop as the engine sputters to life, just ready to start the damned night.

He doesn't remember ever being this anxious for anyone. With Mary, there was almost a standard, or rubric for him. He knew her type well, what she fawned over in their early days. Could mold himself into it easily enough and be loved by a woman how he ought to be loved, and in turn love her the way he ought to love her.

With Charles, it seems it's flipped itself around. Some way or another Arthur'd bared himself enough for Charles to wrench that mask from him. And he supposes that is the issue, that there may in fact be nothing behind it, or at the very least, an entirely lesser man. One that would be realized, and discarded for what it's worth.

But, hell if he doesn't want it. Hell if Hosea didn't plead him for it either.

Arthur never told him about this excursion, but he plans to. Regardless if it goes well or not. The man deserves that much and more after putting up with his stubborn self. He just worries like a parent should. Arthur doesn't blame him, with how his past two relationships went. He supposes he worries too. Wonders many more chances he can take, before his heart is disciplined into something less malleable, less childish.

If anything, he is grateful that it'd have to happen now. He's felt freer, softer than he has in years. By instinct he wants to hate that, wants to beat it down before it gets a chance to blossom, but as a stronger nature, he finds that mere notion impossible the moment Charles finds him again, and shows him how easy it all is.

And Christ, it makes him sick.

They haven't even made it a minute down the road before Charles nudges Arthur, supposedly thrilled if the look on his face says anything, but with something unreadable behind it.

Arthur figures his nerves must be afire, too.

Charles turns to him, speaking low, an odd tilt of his tone, "Surprised you didn't bring me flowers or nothin'," he rests his elbow on the center console, pausing. "The girls told me about your... 'charms', as they called it."

Arthur balks, "Oh— pff. You're kiddin' me," he groans, rubbing a palm over his face.

Charles makes an amused noise through closed lips. "Maybe Ms. Gaskill just told it a little rosier than you did."

Arthur tilts his head around, shrugging. "Well... I mean, it was all puppy love back then. I ain't blamin' her none."

"Lucky I'd known before. Woulda second-guessed this whole thing."

Arthur leans back in his seat, one arm outstretched to steer, like those big rig drivers. Trying to loosen up, even if it seems unnatural. He looks at Charles, brows furrowed. "You ain't already?" Still trying to ride on the teasing, but there is genuine surprise there. He wonders if Charles wants it just as bad.

Arthur watches him open a pack of Marlboros, offering one. Watches him light both and take a drag. Voice a little more genuine, a little lower, "Can't say I'd ever," he says.

Arthur nods to that, and they fall back into silence.

The last bit of blue hour has fallen beneath the horizon, a void swallowing the road. The restaurant is further into the city. Not like neither of them really live in the city to begin with. The reviews were good enough, a little too distinguished for his taste, but he hopes there's at least some bit of casual-ness, with it being downtown.

They make it to the place, parking a block or two down. Before Charles can even think, Arthur's rushed out of the car and rounded to the passenger side. He whips open the door with a flourish and bends down with a hand out, grinning coyly.

Charles barks a laugh, turning his face away, as if he could flee the scene. "You bastard."

But Arthur persists, cheeks round with an actual smile now, still holding a palm out for Charles to take. "You ain't an exception to my romantic charms, Mr. Smith."

Charles steps out, shoving past the hand. "Sure," he breathes, face to face with Arthur on the curb, who's stood like a deer in headlights, performance quickly smothered. Charles gives him a perplexed look.

"Could use a little work, though. Face gives it away." He starts down the sidewalk.

"My— What about my face?" Arthur's pitch raises, catching up to Charles. He merely laughs in response, and throws another look Arthur can't quite put his finger on.

They reach the restaurant. A glistening tower of brick, about three stories, crammed between its larger neighbors. Arthur quickly settles in. Strides past Charles and makes a bee-line to the host, leaning across the stand. Mumbles where Charles can only hear the drawn vowels of his accent, low and grumbly.

They both follow the host like a family of ducklings. It's a lot more crowded than Arthur anticipated, or wanted frankly. He immediately begins to recognize his own askew presence, but decides not to bother.

Their seats are snug against the wall, on the second floor, with a little square table that hardly fits both their forearms, and a large window that reaches past their heads and down to their heels.

They each order a beer, in quiet agreement that they've already painted an odd portrait of themselves by wearing jeans to what is quite the esteemed establishment. There's a second of consideration before just picking the cheapest meal the place has, and deciding they'll share it.

Charles shifts in his seat. He clears his throat and takes a few sips of beer. Clearly the dread in the air has become palpable.

"Arthur, how've you been?" He says. It's blunt, and uncomfortably shallow. Arthur thinks like second nature, though with some amount of disappointment that it's where they must tread now before hitting any deep-end.

He tries his best to salvage it, anyway.

He takes a few sips himself before opening... whatever this conversation should be... and scrunches his face at the taste. Right. Cheapest options.

"Well y'know," his confidence tapers as soon as it had been mustered. "Pretty static right now. Dutch ain't sending me on any jobs lately, 'cause of the ice. Good time to—"

Charles, honest to god, giggles, though faint, waving his hand in a subtle gesture to Arthur. "We're not here to talk about work, Arthur," he sets both his elbows on the table, shifting again, like it's some interrogation. "How are you?"

Arthur sits, lips parted. He looks out from the window, then back at Charles, who stares expectantly. Then, his body suddenly rights itself, reanimating with an odd ferocity.

"Right— sorry... I ain't really connected like this, with you. Just not used to it." he pauses, "Long way from coworkers now..." he winces. "But I'm good. Not just in a shallow way, I mean. I'm real happy about this. Happy, in general. At least Hosea thinks so." he looks back out to the window, humming. "How're you holding up yourself? I know you... ain't really open up much 'round work and all."

Charles also falters, it seems, spotlight suddenly upon him. Arthur thinks the same epiphany's occurred to the both of them simultaneously. That a date does, in fact, take two.

Charles opens his mouth with a brief noise, much like a string of vowels that've been severed. He settles a little dejectedly, posture slightly shrunken.

"I don't really know what I'm doing, to be honest," he says. Avoids looking for Arthur's reaction, he barrels on. "It's just been a while since I've really... pursued anything? But I'm glad— y'know, that you are, but I'm also glad myself. Content, I think. Maybe a little anxious," he huffs and hides behind his beer again.

Arthur balks, "You?" He watches Charles perk up, smile growing, even if a little reluctant. "And here's me wakin' up 'fore dawn and starin' off half the day, I was so worried."

"We're in the same boat then," Charles says in stifled laughter. Arthur bites his cheek, stirred by the sight of it. He keeps the yarn spinning, coaxing more, slowly peeling back the layers eagerly.

The food comes, and he takes it as an opening. They share it together as planned, which could be a little tastier with the damn price of it. Not that Arthur is really paying attention.

They trade throughout the night. Little details, and Arthur learns more than he'd expected to. About Charles' mother, with sparse mention of his father. That this is both their first serious date with another man. That Charles has a sweet tooth, shyly confirmed after the pursed lips he'd given when Arthur declined a dessert. Little quirks about him that Arthur's already begun nailing into his own heart, forgetting entirely to share anything about himself until prompted to.

By the end of it, the creaky stools and odd stares all around hardly really mattered anymore. He supposes he's grateful for the experience as they walk out, and only knows for sure when they're both shoulder to shoulder on the street again. His heart stutters despite it. He feels he owes something.

"Charles. Hey, I'm uh," he stops them when they reach the truck. "Sorry if this was all kind of a bust."

Charles faces him, remnants of a smile still lingering. "What do you mean?"

"Not that I didn't enjoy it! I mean you're— it was really amazing. I loved it, I'm just kinda realizin' maybe the fancy night-outs ain't fit for us, or me for that matter," his hands stay at his middle, fidgeting with the keys, averting his gaze.

Charles looks at him even more confused. Taking a second to process that, then, his features relax in what seems to be understanding. He lends another smile, "Your company was wonderful Mr. Morgan," his voice falls back into that same timbre from earlier in the evening. "But I think you're right," he says, to which Arthur only huffs.

They settle back into the truck, silence looming over once again. Arthur can hear the rustle of fabric as Charles shifts in his seat; he doesn't feel any urgency to turn the keys.

"What about lights?" Charles asks.

"Lights?" He mimics.

"Christmas lights. Whole festival for them, next weekend. Should be near your area." He does the same move he'd done on the drive here— elbow on the console, except his head rests in his hand, and he's leant closer a great deal, wholly confident in his proposal, although Arthur can't imagine how he's already figured out the answer.

He clicks his tongue, turning the keys. "Sure," he says. "I'd love that," voice pitched and quieter, like an admission to himself.

The drive back is in contentment. Arthur feels like a wad of knots that've been untied and strewn limp on the floor. Part of him longs for more, more of Charles, more of his voice, for some odd reason. Part of him wants to just crash at his place and wake like it's been the two of them all along, but he knows he can't rush it. For both their sakes.

Dutch has always prodded him for having a pliable heart. He's never found it in him to disagree. He's starting to think he wouldn't have it any other way, though.

They reach the screen door, mirroring the position they were in just hours earlier, Charles on the doorstep, Arthur tilting his head to meet his eyes.

He sways around, air a lot colder, trying to keep his nerves about, before stilling a moment, and turning to Charles with as much coolness as he can. "What was it about my face? Said it didn't help my 'charm'?" He asks, voice breathy.

Charles squints, confused, before his eyebrows raise with recognition, a faint laugh bursting out— a small 'oh' buried somewhere between it.

He takes a breath, "You blush a lot, Arthur."

Arthur's face scrunches, "What?" He exclaims. "That ain't fair, 's just cold, Charles,"

"Mm. I noticed it that first ranch job in August," Charles offers, snuffing out Arthur's poor excuse.

Arthur turns his head to where the truck sits, trying to save the embarrassment for later, if at the cost of Charles' amusement. "Pfft. Bastard. It can't be that bad?"

"How do you think Hosea picked up on it before either of us did?" Charles supplies, still grinning.

Arthur grumbles out a string of empty curses, letting the topic go, for now at least.

A pause. The truck rumbles behind them.

Arthur inhales sharply, "Well I suppose I should get going."

"Yeah," Charles says. He rests his hand on the door handle.

"Thank you, for y'know. See you next weekend?"

Charles searches his face, eyes like palms tracing the shadowed features. "Yeah. Take care."

Arthur lends a smile in response and finds another shot back at him with a fervent sincerity. Turns around before it gets the best of him, and walks down to the truck.

[johaerys-writes]

OH MY GOD HOW CAN I CHOSE THERE’S SO MANY OPTIONS AND THEY’RE ALL SO GOOD 😭😭😭

let’s see if i can control myself and just ask for three

so MODERN OMEGAVERSE PLEASE I’M BEGGING

PYRRHA MY BELOVED I NEED HER

PLEASURE SLAVE AU!!!!!!!

i really want to ask about all of them but let’s save some for the people 🫣💕

Aaaahhh okay let's have a look!!!

Modern omegaverse: I've talked about this here before I think, but it's basically modern AU college omegaverse, featuring alpha Patroclus and very messy and jealous omega Achilles. They're friends but their relationship has been a little rocky since going away to college (Patroclus is a little older so he went away first, and he has all those cool and hot friends now and that makes Achilles crrraazyyyy, so crazy in fact that he accidentally goes into heat LMAO) It's very messy and they both make really bad decisions, the writing is also a mess because I started it a couple years ago, changed my mind about a couple plot things, then I got stuck so I actually left it on the backburner but I really want to get back to it!! Here is a little snippet from the beginning:

“Got any plans for the weekend?” “Not much,” Achilles says. Odysseus and Diomedes have asked him to go out with them for drinks, but Achilles is secretly hoping that Patroclus will ask him to do something together. If he does, he’ll ditch Odysseus and Diomedes in a heartbeat. “What about you?” Patroclus flashes him a grin, a little mischievous. “I’m hoping for a date with a really cute guy.” “Oh,” Achilles breathes, but it feels like a gut punch. Fuck, he’s always known this moment would come, and he’s always dreaded it. Patroclus is gorgeous, and Achilles isn’t just saying that because he’s had a crush on him ever since he can remember himself. Patroclus is smart and funny and caring, and so easy to be around. It was only a matter of time before he would find someone else, and ditch Achilles for good.  That doesn’t stop his fists from clenching, simply at the thought of whoever it is that caught Patroclus’ attention.  “Cool,” he says, trying to give him a smile that definitely comes out more tense and tight than he meant. “Awesome. That’s great, Patroclus. Anyone I know?” Patroclus stares at him in confusion for a moment, before he blushes and blurts out, “You! I meant you. Sorry, I was just trying to be funny— I thought— I asked you last week if you’d be free to hang out…?” “Oh! Right, sorry, I forgot.” The surge of relief rushing through Achilles leaves him dizzy. It’s a little embarrassing that he jumped to conclusions so quickly, but honestly, it’s not that hard to do when Patroclus has so many friends and acquaintances now, vying for his attention. “Of course, we’ll hang out together, of course. What do you want to do?”

2. Pyrrha worship: I got an anon ask a while ago with a request for a smutty one shot with disasters patchilles when they're older, and I sat on it for a long while because I couldn't really come up with anything exciting, but then I was listening to Miss June '75 by The Brian Jonestown Massacre the other day and my mind instantly went, Pyrrha??? Ahaha, so basically it's a smutty one shot where Achilles dresses up all fancy in his favourite red dress and his stockings and heels and everything, and after they come back home Patroclus just has to worship the fuck out of his wife <3 I don't have much to share yet but I'm hoping to get to it once I post the next BBB chapter!

3. Pleasure slave AU: boy oh boy do I have a lot to say about this one haha. I've been teasing about this AU for a while now and I'm not at all close to sharing any writing for it, mostly because it's a bunch of notes and plot points and random bits of conversation in the doc BUT essentially the idea behind it is that Patroclus didn't grow up in Phthia with Achilles, but instead was sent to Lyrnessus and grew up with Briseis, so when the Achaeans attack the city, Patroclus is given to Achilles as a pleasure slave instead of Briseis. It's quite horny and very angsty and I swear I will get to it eventually after I finish one of the million works I have in progress right now lol!!!!

[wonderlandsakura]

Niche Things I Think People should Write/Read More: Part 2

I ran out of tags, anyway Part 1 here. If part 1 and/or 2 gets like,, 100 notes, I'll add recs if they exist (someone asked so I did it anyway hehe)

- Fics where Izuku is such an amazing analyst (and the UA staff know it) that they just. Let him teach the class (or anything where they aizawa know he's more skilled and just leave him to teach so they aizawa can nap)

I would prefer it if he's a literal child that just gets the position, but sadly I haven't found that

The UA Analyst Kid of RogueVector's Announcer AU series on AO3 is the closest I think

I do have fic recs of him being an analyst and/or teacher at UA tho, but I'm too tired to find them

- Zuko is given A Child and Will Die For Them (he is so mother coded)

There's Bound To Be A Ghost At The Back Of Your Closet by anactualforrealadult is what I was thinking of when I wrote this, but it doesn't fit perfectly (btw it's zukka)

- Danielle Phantom and Dark Danny are Standard Danny's kids, I need this please I must be FED

Like a few of my reblogs, but I'll see if I can find them

- Monkey D. Wyvern, if you know you know

I'll add this soon, but you can find art for it on Tumblr too :))

- The Reluctant Kings friendship (Danny & Din Djarin)

The Phantom Mandalorian series on AO3 has Danny essentially adopted by Din, but it would be nice if there were fics where they're just friends who are unknowingly OP

- Mandalorian S3 dinluke fix-its /hj

I haven't been able to stomach actually reading these yet, but they do exist

- Gottlieb/Geiszler + Jayvik Xovers where they get to Science!

forming new limestone by wobbeegong on AO3, actually a favorite fic of mine, I was sad when I couldn't find anything like it after I read it but that might have changed

- Jinx being Silco's daughter even after time travel (Jinx the Sapphire of Zaun)

And I know this body's not mine (Wish I could crawl out) by Hopelessjoy14 is where I got this from, it's incomplete but good so far

- Co-parenting Koushirou and Mihawk; like not together but these 2 sword obsessed men are co-parenting Zoro

Doesn't exist yet, and I don't recommend looking if you don't want to get bombarded by bad misogynistic parent Koushirou fics :/, anyway I'm working on it

- the Shimotsuki-Dracule siblings, where in a Kuina lives! (but is severely injured/paralyzed) AU, Zoro gets to be hounded by not only little sister Perona, but also Big Sis Kuina (bonus if modern au)

Same as what I wrote for co-parenting Koushirou & Mihawk, I actually have a fic outlined (it's not modern au tho, but could be), but I'll probably never finish writing it. If I post it on Tumblr I'll link it tho

- Zosan gets accidentally married at WCI AUs cause why not, it's absolutely hilarious

Sadly doesn't exist somehow?? I'll have to check if that's still the case

You can see me screaming about the idea here tho

- I somehow didn't mention Agatha/Gil/Tarvek last time? But yeah, from Girl Genius, I want them to get married and rule Europia, is that too much to ask?

Sprocket for Your Thoughts by zombiecheerios on AO3 is a good fic about them getting together, if incomplete (also you kinda need to have caught up on the comic)

The Most Stable of Polygons by 1_NoName_among_many is like a shorter version of it tho

Then there's the Sparkgate series that originally introduced me to the concept of them ruling together (I've not finished even the first fic tho)

- Zoro being Soba Mask aka Stealth Black aka Sanji's overprotective guard dog/tiger (I read a really good fic okay??)

Fic is Stealth Black Unmasked by HaveMyWeedCookies on AO3

[thepictureofjune]

The Tortured Poets Departement of schloss einstein

— relating songs to characters and relationships because in my eyes, everyone is a little sad

Hallo. Wilkommen. This is me trying to relate everything I somewhat like to my current obsession even if it does not fit at all because this is a kids show and the album is probably anything but relatable to a 12 year old, trying to find a treasure. But I tried and I tried explaining my choices. This is my very insane and over-dramatic interpretation, please just deal with me. 

Disclaimer: hab versucht, mich möglichst auf Staffel 26 und 27 Charaktere zu begrenzen, hat aber (siehe literally erstes Beispiel) manchmal besser bei früheren Charakteren oder Beziehungen gepasst. Btw would love it if anyone could find people to relate the missing songs to. (my chronic rewatching kinda failed me in the end…)

Fortnight - Till und Martha (Staffel 23)

And for a fortnight there, we were forever Run into you sometimes, ask about the weather Now you're in my backyard, turned into good neighbors Your wife waters flowers, I wanna kill her All my mornings are Mondays stuck in an endless February I took the miracle move-on drug, the effects were temporary And I love you, it's ruining my life I love you, it's ruining my life I touched you for only a fortnight I touched you, but I touched you

For me this fits within the whole Martha Kasimir Till drama and obviously the somewhat enemies to lovers arc Martha and Till had going on. How probably liking Martha ruined Tills life more than it already was because when they kissed for the first time, she was still dating Kasimir and that, of course, ensured a lot of issues probably. 

The Tortured Poets Department - Nesrin und Annika (Staffel 27!)

But you're in self-sabotage mode Throwing spikes down on the road But I've seen this episode and still loved the show Who else decodes you? And who's gonna hold you like me? And who's gonna know you, if not me? I laughed in your face and said "You're not Dylan Thomas, I'm not Patti Smith This ain't the Chelsea Hotel, we'rе modern idiots" (...) Sometimes, I wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me But you told Lucy you'd kill yourself if I ever leave And I had said that to Jack about you, so I felt seen Everyone we know understands why it's meant to be 'Cause we're crazy So tell me, who else is gonna know me?

We get introduced to them as these two best friends who are never really seen without each other. Annika knows Nesrin and Nesrin knows Annika and no one is ever going to get in between them, right? Because then it changes and we get the whole fight of Nesrin not really seeming to know Annika all that well anymore, them constantly fighting because maybe after all, all they had was the pranks they did together and what is their friendship beyond that? What is their friendship now?

Down Bad - Noah und Colin aus Noahs Sicht (Staffel 27 post 1062)

For a moment, I knew cosmic love Now I'm down bad, cryin' at the gym Everything comes out teenage petulance "Fuck it if I can't have him" "I might just die, it would make no difference" Down bad, wakin' up in blood Starin' at the sky, come back and pick me up Fuck it if I can't have us I might just not get up, I might stay

Did you take all my old clothes Just to leave me here, naked and alone In a field in my same old town That somehow seems so hollow now? They'll say I'm nuts if I talk about The existence of you

I loved your hostile takeovers Encounters closer and closer All your indecent exposures How dare you say that it's— I'll build you a fort on some planet Where they can all understand it How dare you think it's romantic Leaving me safe and stranded 'Cause fuck it, I was in love So fuck you if I can't have us

So Noah kinda knows he likes Colin now, knows that he misses Colin but what if Colin doesn’t miss him? What if Colin already moved on? Nothing would make sense anymore. He lost his best friend and for what? Only to be alone in the end?

Because right now, for all Noah knows, Colin might still be mad at him. 

So Long, London - Noah und Colin aus Colins Sicht (Staffel 27 post 1056) 

I saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist I kept calm and carried the weight of the rift Pulled him in tighter each time he was driftin' away My spine split from carrying us up the hill Wet through my clothes, weary bones caught the chill I stopped tryna make him laugh, stopped tryna drill the safe Thinkin', "How much sad did you think I had Did you think I had in me?" Oh, the tragedy

So long, London You'll find someone For so long, London Stitches undone Two graves, one gun I'll find someone And you say I abandoned the ship But I was going down with it My white-knuckle dying grip Holding tight to your quiet resentment And my friends said it isn't right to be scared Every day of a love affair Every breath feels like rarest air When you're not sure if he wants to be there You swore that you loved me, but where were the clues? I died on the altar waitin' for the proof You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days And I'm just getting color back into my face I'm just mad as hell 'cause I loved this place

But Daddy I Love Him - Julia Sponer (Staffel 25 u 26) 

Too high a horse for a simple girl To rise above it They slammed the door on my whole world The one thing I wanted Now I'm runnin' with my dress unbuttoned Scrеamin', "But, Daddy, I love him I'm havin' his baby" No, I'm not, but you should see your faces I'm tellin' him to floor it through thе fences No, I'm not coming to my senses

This one is mainly for the dramatics of the song, of playing the part and of Julia wanting to take a path (acting) that is usually not really met with great immediate success. 

Fresh Out The Slammer - Lucky und Paulina (Staffel 11 u 12) 

Gray and blue and fights and tunnels Handcuffed to the spell I was under For just one hour of sunshine Years of labor, locks, and ceilings In the shade of how he was feeling But it's gonna be alright, I did my time Now, pretty baby, I'm runnin' back home to you Frеsh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to Camera flashes, welcome bashes, get the matches Toss the ashes off the ledge As I said in my letters, now that I know better I will never lose my baby again

Give me one couple in the entirety of Schloss Einstein that screams Partners in Crime better than they do. (also give me one modern character that would be looked at like a criminal - they don’t do them like that anymore) 

Florida!!! - Joyce Simon (Staffel 24 u 25)

Little did you know your home's really only A town you're just a guest in So you work your life away just to pay For a time-share down in Destin (...) The hurricane with my name when it came I got drunk and I dared it to wash me away Barricaded in the bathroom with a bottle of wine Well, me and my ghosts, wе had a hell of a time Yes, I'm hauntеd, but I'm feeling just fine

One character who never quite seemed to feel at home, who had a friend and still fled the country, who has never had a home because family was always foreign. 

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me? - Joshua Hockenbrink (Staffel 27) 

The who's who of "Who's that?" is poised for the attack But my bare hands paved their paths You don't get to tell me about "sad" (...) Crash the party like a record scratch as I scream "Who's afraid of little old me?" You should be The scandal was contained The bullet had just grazed At all costs, keep your good name You don't get to tell me you feel bad Is it a wonder I broke? Let's hear one morе joke Then we could all just laugh until I cry (...) So tell me everything is not about me But what if it is? Then say they didn't do it to hurt me But what if they did? I wanna snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me You wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me So all you kids can sneak into my house with all the cobwebs I'm always drunk on my own tears, isn't that what they all said? That I'll sue you if you step on my lawn That I'm fearsome and I'm wretched and I'm wrong

A birthday party organized simply to taunt him, the usually slightly mean behavior that drives everyone away and makes you think he is nothing more than rude, nothing more than a villain. But he’s also the boy that seems to want nothing more than to find a place that accepts him. 

loml - Leon und Io aus Leons Sicht (Staffel 27 post 1064) 

We embroidered the memories of the time I was away Stitching, "We were just kids, babe" I said, "I don't mind, it takes time" I thought I was better safe than starry-eyed I've felt a glow like this never before and never since (...) You holy ghost, you told me I'm the love of your life You said I'm the love of your life About a million times Who's gonna tell me the truth when you blew in with the winds of fate (...) I wish I could unrecall How we almost had it all Dancing phantoms on the terrace Are they second-hand embarrassed That I can't get out of bed

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart - Massuda Phanit (Staffel 26 u 27)

I can read your mind "She's having the time of her life There in her glittering prime The lights refract sequin stars off her silhouette every night" I can show you lies 'Cause I'm a real tough kid I can handle my shit They said, "Babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and I did Lights, camera, bitch, smile Even when you wanna die Breaking down, I hit the floor All the piеces of me shatterеd as the crowd was chanting, "More" I was grinnin' like I'm winnin' I was hittin' my marks I'm so depressed, I act like it's my birthday every day

Massuda is glitter, she is smiles in the camera, she is organizing parties and loud music and dancing and…She is also the parents that don’t accept her if she doesn’t have good grades. She is also the one who has to hide her true self whenever her parents turn up. 

Clara Bow - Marlon to Simon (Staffel 27)

"You look like Clara Bow In this light, remarkable All your life, did you know You'd be picked like a rose?" I'm not trying to exaggerate But I think I might die if it happened Die if it happened to me No one in my small town Thought I'd see the lights of Manhattan Take the glory, give everything Promise to be dazzling

This might seem a wee bit crazy but hear me out! Marlon likes Nesrin but he also thinks Nesrin likes Simon. And he knows Simon is probably better at this whole liking someone and flirting with them thing that he will ever be because after all, he’s just the kid with the star bread.

— june🪐

(the anthology comes in a separate part bcs else this is too long to read - it already prob is)

[violetsareblue-selfships]

rambling about my arcane s/i following this set of questions (might not answer all of them)

🌸 Do you have any basic headcanons? (Age, Sexuality, Etc.)

Okay, so age: during act 1 of season one, Vi's 15, Caitlyn's 16 & I'm 18-18.5; then during acts 2-3, Vi's 22, Cait's 23, and I'm 25 (i'm placing progress day in spring so prior to my birthday) - aka I'll be 26 post the minor timeskip in season 2 (it's like at most 6 months)

I'm using the League fan birthdays for them (unless we get proper confirmation of their birthdays in Arcane) - so Dec. 19 for Vi, and Jan. 4 for Caitlyn.

Sexuality: I don't have anything finite but we all like women hehe

🌷When does your self-insert come into the story? Is your selfship established before the events of the source?

Mine's there pretty much from the beginning - certainly in acts 2-3 of season one, I'm already in an established relationship with Caitlyn (technically loosely in act 1 - like we go on dates but we're teens so romance isn't the main focus - though our first kiss is on her sixteenth birthday at her request :3)

the third fic I've written is like a snippet of all the scenes that would show my s/i during progress day (idk if the kiss scene would be shown in act 1 or like alluded to/given flashbacks to later on)

my relationship with vi develops alongside her relationship with caitlyn following canon pretty closely.

🌺Are there any other characters that are very relevant to your self-insert or F/O story-wise?

Jayce is like an older sibling figure (and given that Viktor is his work partner, we're at least on friendly terms). Otherwise, Caitlyn's parents are fairly fond of me.

Later on, I grow fond of Jinx & Isha through Vi. I don't think there's enough time there to properly gain familial relationships but we have like an understanding (in a modern au, she definitely would be a younger sister to me)

🌹How would your self-insert function in the source? (Side character, Main character, etc?)

I dunno how to classify it - side character i guess, but she's important to one of the main ships so?? but like she's not really involved much in the politics or hextech stuff unless cait & vi drag her into it

🏵️ How did your ship meet? What were their first impressions?

Cait & I meet first - she finds me when i'm new to piltover, lost on the street & unable to find my way home. she gets her mother to help me get home - we're friends from then on. // her first impression of me was literally that i needed help and well, the fic's not called a savior and a friend for nothing (she was my savior :3)

Vi & Caitlyn meet next - the whole Cait breaking Vi out of jail scene as follows in canon. Uhh very tense first impressions - essentially the canon ones (like Vi's surprised that Cait's freeing her & Cait sees her as a way to get a lead on the attacks in Piltover)

Vi & I meet last. Literally the second they return from Stillwater, Caitlyn goes to find me (she promised she would once she returned) and drags Vi there before they head to the Undercity. It's a very brief meeting but she comes away thinking I'm a good painter and my main impression is that she's very pretty (like it's a brief interaction or I'd have more).

🌻Does your self-insert or F/O go through any character development throughout the story?

Vi stays pretty true to herself the whole story - that's the point. She has a good heart and Vander told her to keep her heart that good no matter what. She manages, in my opinion.

Caitlyn... has a bad arc but she's at least trying to fix what she's done at the end. (AKA, she goes a bit dictator under Ambessa's influence for those who haven't watched the show) still, by the end of it, she regrets what she's done and like i said is showing with her actions that she's not like that anymore (i know it doesn't absolve her of her actions but her mother dies and sends her down that spiral so...)

As for me... uhh, honestly I think I'm similar to Vi. I stay pretty much the same from beginning to end - loyal to those I care about (with some exceptions in Cait's case during her worst era - like I still love her, I don't think a childhood love could be broken that easily but I can't be with her like that)

🌼Is there an official confession scene between the two of them?

You know, I don't think they say I love you officially in the entire show - it's shown but not said lol. I'll probably amend that though whether that's somewhere like s2 e8 or after everything's over and done...

For Cait & I, that first kiss is as much a confession as any - though the first I love you is also important (i haven't thought much on when that is, but likely a few dates in)

For Vi & I, our first kiss is during her pitfighter era sometime (I'll have more thoughts on this when I actually write stuff during that time, I'm still writing in season 1 - though I'm almost to season 2)

🍀 Do You have any other scenes in mind? Angsty, Tender, Funny, Etc.

Like I said, I'm following canon pretty closely so most of those scenes still hold weight. But I'll mention a few snippets I probably won't get around to writing. (or they'll be short if I do)

S1, E6 - when Cait's settling Vi after she takes the shimmer to heal her wounds - that moment where it's implied that Cait wants to kiss her, she has a little moment of panic because she has a girlfriend waiting for her and that's why she changes the subject so abruptly.

S1, E9 - when Jinx is all 'I paid your girlfriend a visit' and she reveals Caitlyn, Vi can't help but ask about the other girl (aka me) and JInx is all 'who? oh!!! her... nah, i just left her asleep in caitlyn's bed) (aka Vi may not be 100% in love with me yet here but she still cares :3)

Honestly, the rest of what I have in mind will probably be written so... *shrugs* // though also i'm thinking that my s/i should get injured at some point (like she's a painter, not a great fighter (though she's probably trained a little with cait as kids)) but I'll figure out when - that last fight would work or either of the other big fights in season 2 (the one where they get like attacked at the speech mel's giving or during the thing w/ isha and them later on in season 2 (bc my s/i is there so... but vi gets injured there so maybe only one large scale injury should happen...) sorry, i'm rambling now lol

[jrob64]

Hitting a High Note - A CS Modern AU Christmas Story

Merry Christmas everyone! While looking through my library of stories, I realized I've never written a Christmas story and decided to remedy that.

Special thanks and a very Merry Christmas to my loyal beta @hookedmom who has already agreed to stick with me and my muse through the New Year.

SUMMARY: Emma Swan talks her friend Killian Jones into going Christmas caroling, but she gets more than she bargains for when she hears him sing.

Rating: G (pure Christmas fluff!)

Words: 6227 (one-shot)

Also posted to Ao3 and ffn

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Killian Jones buttoned his black pea coat, then wrapped a festive green and gold scarf around his neck. After pulling a red knit cap onto his head, he checked his reflection in the mirror above his dresser and arranged his hair so that a few strands fell artfully over his forehead.

“I can’t believe she talked me into doing this,” he grumbled under his breath, but in truth, he absolutely could believe it. Emma Swan would be able to talk him into just about anything, seeing as how he was utterly and completely in love with her.

If only he was brave enough to tell her.

It wasn’t love at first sight for him. The first time he laid eyes on her was at the end of his second week in Storybrooke. She was tucked into her boyfriend’s side at The Rabbit Hole, a local hangout. That boyfriend happened to be Walsh Osterfeld, one of the most arrogant and irritating men Killian ever had the misfortune of meeting. He made the assumption then and there that the blonde who looked happy to have Walsh’s arm wrapped around her was just as bad as him.

But you know what they say about assuming.

In the weeks following that initial introduction, Emma frequently visited the library where Killian had just begun working. It turned out she was quite the bookworm, dispelling his theory that she wasn’t very intelligent, formulated solely because of who she was dating.

Usually, Killian politely waited on her while speaking minimally, but when she checked out a book written by his favorite author, he complimented her choice. Looking up at her when he handed her the receipt, he was frozen in place by the sparkle in her emerald eyes as she gave him a rather shy smile.

“Thanks,” she replied. “My ex told me he hated this author, and since he and I ended up not having much in common, I figured it was worth giving one of these books a try.”

“Your ex, huh?” Killian couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“Yeah, we recently broke up.”

“Sorry to hear that,” he mumbled, though he was not at all sorry.

“Don’t be. We dated just long enough for me to figure out he’s very annoying.”

“So, just a few minutes, then?” Killian quipped, then realized his mistake.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why would you say that?”

He felt his face heat with embarrassment as he reached up to scratch nervously behind his ear. “Oh, um, I…I saw you at The Rabbit Hole a while back and you were, uh, pretty cozy with Walsh Osterfeld. I’m not a fan of his.”

Emma looked surprised. “How do you know him?”

“When my brother was setting up his accounting office, he and I went to Osterfeld’s store in search of furniture. He tried to sell Liam the most expensive pieces on display and when Liam said he wasn’t interested, Walsh treated him like he wasn’t worth his time. I convinced Liam to leave and we hired Marco Booth to make everything he needed for half the price of what Osterfeld was asking.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Emma responded. “He treated all of my friends pretty much the same way - like they didn’t measure up to his standards. I got tired of it rather quickly.”

Killian hummed, then leaned forward to tap his finger on the cover of the book she held. “Well, I truly think you’ll like this. Hopefully, I’ll be working when you return it and you’ll be able to give me your review.”

“Chances of that are pretty good, because you seem to be here nearly every time I come in lately. You haven’t worked here long, have you?”

“Only a few weeks. My brother and I moved here after I recuperated from surgery.” He held up the prosthetic at the end of his left arm. “Liam hated living in a big city and since I no longer had a job, I decided to make the move with him. Once tax season was over in April, he quit his job at an accounting firm in Boston because he was planning to open an office here. The bonus is that Storybrooke is a harbor town. Liam and I both like being near the water.”

“How did you find out about Storybrooke? It’s a pretty obscure place.”

“Do you know August Booth?”

“Yeah, he goes to my church. Marco’s son.”

“That’s the one. He’s my brother’s friend and former college roommate. He told Liam there weren’t any accountants in this town. ”

“I’ve seen your brother’s office. I’ll probably be requiring his services on April 14th next year.”

He chuckled. “Even though he’s very good, we hope not everyone in town waits until the last day of tax season to employ him.”

“You’re good at what you do, too,” she commented.

“Well, it doesn’t take a genius to work in a library.”

“Maybe not, but it does take someone who is helpful, knowledgeable about books, and treats people with respect. I’m Emma Swan, by the way,” she said, offering him her hand.

He shook it. “Killian Jones, at your service.”

That was the beginning of their friendship. He started to look forward to her frequent visits to the library and their impromptu discussions about books and other things. He found himself telling her about the accident that cost him his hand and job in construction. He explained that with the settlement he received from workman’s compensation, combined with his savings, he was able to afford to move and take a job that, although it paid less, was far more enjoyable.

Soon, they were meeting in the mornings for coffee before she left for her job at a flower shop, and watching movies at each other’s apartment on evenings when he didn’t work. Her friends became his as they hung out together at The Rabbit Hole on the weekends, and attended the same church.

When the announcement about Christmas caroling appeared in the church bulletin, Killian didn’t give it a second thought. Singing in the shower was one thing, singing in public was quite another. But when Emma asked him to come along, explaining how much fun it was to sing to people who were shut-ins, lonely, or just needed some Christmas spirit, he caved. Now he’s a man in love with a woman who liked him only as a friend, doing something that took him way out of his comfort zone.

He had never been Christmas caroling before, so he wasn’t sure what to expect. He did know it would only be a small group of them singing though, which made him a little nervous. He felt more comfortable fading into the background in the middle of a crowd.

When he was growing up, his vagabond father moved their family often, not staying in any one place longer than a year or two. Liam took it as a challenge, making new friends and trying to fit in at every new school and neighborhood, but Killian grew more withdrawn and quiet. Even as an adult, he avoided situations which would draw attention to himself.

His phone buzzed on the dresser. Pulling himself out of his morose thoughts, he picked it up and read the message.

E: See you in 10 if you don’t chicken out.

The gif of a squawking chicken accompanying the text made him laugh. Emma had a knack for finding funny gifs and memes, which always brought a smile to his face. His thumb hit the microphone key and he spoke into his phone to record a return message.

K: I won’t chicken out as long as there are donuts & hot chocolate afterwards, as promised.

E: There better be, or I’m gonna be one cranky caroler.

After sending a laughing emoji, he stuffed the phone into the front pocket of his jeans, checked his reflection one more time, and left the small house he shared with Liam.

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Emma fluffed out her blond hair over the collar of her red winter coat and adjusted the buffalo plaid scarf around her neck. After tugging a gray beanie onto her head, she checked her reflection in the mirror, applied some tinted lip gloss, and gave herself a small nod of approval.

She felt a little guilty being so concerned with how she looked, because the idea of Christmas caroling was to make other people feel good. Besides, she was going with a group of her best friends, so it wasn’t a matter of trying to impress anyone.

Except Killian Jones.

“You are such an idiot,” she quietly admonished herself. “He’s just a friend and you’re not supposed to be looking for someone to date. Remember the promise you made to yourself after you broke up with Walsh?” she asked her reflection.

Just thinking about her ex-boyfriend made her cringe. She kicked herself many times over agreeing to go out with him. He was pompous, domineering and snobby, all things she despised in a person. Although, to be fair, she didn’t know those things when she first started dating him. They came to light gradually as she spent more time with him, leaving her with the feeling that she wasn’t a very good judge of character.

She didn’t think she was wrong about Killian, though. He was sweet, sincere, considerate and humble; any woman would be lucky to date him. Maybe she should try setting him up with someone. He was still fairly new in town, and hadn’t met all of her friends yet. Belle had just gotten out of a bad relationship, and Mary Margaret’s teacher friends, Aurora and Jasmine, weren’t seeing anyone.

She wondered if he was even interested in dating. In all the time they’d known each other, he never mentioned a significant other. Maybe he had a girlfriend back in Boston and just didn’t talk about her. Or maybe, like her, he’d been in a bad relationship and swore off dating.

Regardless, she was going to be late if she kept musing about him. Grabbing her purse off of the bed, she dug through it for her keys, then left her apartment and hurried outside to her car parked along the curb.

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Emma and Killian pulled up to the church simultaneously and parked beside each other. After unbuckling her seatbelt, she swung her car door open, got out and slammed it shut. She might love her little yellow bug, but it had some issues, such as the door popping back open if you didn’t shut it hard enough.

“Hey, Jones,” she called, walking around the back of her car to meet him. “Went with a sock hat, I see.”

“Pardon me?” he asked, puzzlement apparent on his stupidly handsome face.

“Your hat. I thought you would wear something different.”

She watched him scratch behind his ear, a habit she found quite adorable. “What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Maybe a top hat with a sprig of holly?”

“I agreed to Christmas carol, not to look like I belong in the ‘Christmas Carol’,” he replied, rolling his eyes.

Emma giggled. It seemed nobody could make her laugh more than Killian Jones, with his dry but sharp sense of humor.

“Are you ready to do this?” she asked, beginning to walk up the sidewalk to the church.

He fell into step beside her. “Uh, I guess.”

“You don’t sound very sure.”

“I’ve never gone caroling before,” he admitted.

She threaded her arm through his left elbow. “Well, there’s a first time for everything. It’ll be fun, you’ll see.”

He hummed and patted her arm with his right hand. “If you say so, Swan.”

“I do.”

They entered the church lobby and saw that most of the other carolers were already there. Ashley and her husband, Shawn, Mary Margaret and David, Ruby, Belle, Elsa, Anna and her fiancé Kris, and a few other people from their church - around fifteen in all.

“We’ll be singing to eight elderly church members and then going over to a nursing home,” Mary Margaret informed them as soon as they joined the cluster of people. “Since they’re spread out all over town, we’ll need to drive from place to place. We’ve already determined who is driving and who will be in each car. The two of you will be with us in my car. David will drive.”

“Why can’t I drive?” Emma asked.

“Perhaps because we all value our lives,” Killian teased, tongue in cheek.

“Hey!” Emma protested. “I’m an excellent driver!”

“It’s not your driving skills we question, Swan. It’s that dodgy excuse for a car.”

She glared at him. “Insult my car at your own risk, Jones.”

“I just did,” he assured her.

They realized the rest of the group had started to file out of the church, so they followed along, still arguing about her car. In front of them, Mary Margaret and David shared amused looks.

Just as Emma and Killian were settling into the back seat, there was a knock on Emma’s window. She looked over to see August peering in at her. “Got room for one more?” he asked, loud enough to be heard through the glass.

“Uh, sure,” Emma said, opening the door, then sliding over to the middle of the seat. August squeezed in beside her and she scooted even closer to Killian.

“Thanks,” August said. “I lost track of the time and was afraid I would be left behind.”

“It’s good to have you with us,” David commented as he put the car in drive and followed Kris’s vehicle out of the parking lot.

“Hey, August,” Killian greeted, leaning forward to speak around Emma.

“Hey, yourself,” August smiled. “Is Liam in one of the other cars?”

“No, I invited him to come, but he’s an old Scrooge and said it was too cold. It’s probably for the best, though. He’s a terrible singer.”

Emma elbowed him sharply. “Be nice.”

“Ouch!” Killian exclaimed. “Are you trying to break a rib, Swan?”

“Stop being so dramatic. You probably didn’t even feel it through all your layers of clothes.”

He continued to rub his side. “Once you hear my brother sing, you’re going to realize I was right, and then you’ll owe me an apology for bruising me.”

“I hate to say it, but I agree with Killian on this one,” August piped up. “Liam and I were fraternity brothers at college, and hearing him sing the Alma Mater had me wishing I could transfer to another university.”

Everyone in the car began to laugh. “Poor Liam,” Mary Margaret said when it died down. “We shouldn’t be making fun of him when he’s not even here to defend himself.”

“Liam is plenty talented,” Killian said. “Just not in singing.”

“Oh, don’t forget to buckle your seatbelts,” Mary Margaret stated, ever the designated mom of the group.

Killian felt Emma’s hand reach down between their hips and brush against his butt as she searched for hers, and he leaned toward her to say, “Um, that’s not your seatbelt, Love.”

She jerked her hand away quickly and he chuckled when he saw color fill her cheeks. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

“Think nothing of it.” He reluctantly moved closer to the door and pulled the buckles between them free so they could fasten their belts. “Maybe someday I can return the favor,” he continued, flirtateously waggling his eyebrows at her.

As he expected, she rolled her eyes at him playfully, then turned to ask August a question. Killian rubbed his gloved hand and prosthesis against his jean-clad knees, and looked out his window toward the sideview mirror, only to see Mary Margaret’s face reflected in it. His eyes widened and he felt himself blush when he saw the sly smile and sparkle in her eyes as her gaze bounced between himself and Emma.

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The first stop was a learning experience for Killian. He stood in the middle of the group and sang along softly, but mostly just watched the rest of the carolers and the recipients of their songs. Observing the smiles on all of their faces, his heart filled with the joy of the season

Marco’s house was the next stop and after they piled out of their car, August went inside to get his father. While they waited for him to bundle up and make his appearance, Killian edged closer to where Emma stood chatting with Mary Margaret.

When the dark-haired woman noticed his presence, she gave him a conspiratorial smile and subtly took a step to the side, leaving a gap beside Emma, which Killian filled immediately. He always liked listening to her voice as she sang the hymns in church and wanted to hear her sing the beautiful Christmas carols.

He watched her bounce on her toes and rub her upper arms briskly, breath coming out in steamy clouds. “Cold, Swan?” he asked.

“A little, but I don’t mind. It just makes me look forward to the hot chocolate even more.”

“I’m sure Marco will appreciate our caroling,” he said, stepping closer to her, hoping to block the wind a bit.

“Yeah, he will. He appreciates everything. I love his cheery outlook on life.”

“Aye, he’s a sweet soul…”

At that moment, the front door opened and Marco stepped out, followed by August, who descended the steps to rejoin the group. Mary Margaret began singing “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing” and everyone else joined in immediately.

When the song ended, Marco applauded, a smile lighting up his weathered face. “Now don’t be afraid to sing a little louder,” he said. “These old ears don’t work so well anymore!”

They appeased him by adding more volume to “Jingle Bells” followed by “Up on the Housetop”, complete with all the hand motions.

“Let’s do one more,” David said.

“Dad’s favorite carol is ‘The First Noel’,” August shared.

Everyone nodded their agreement and once again, Mary Margaret started the song. By this time, Killian felt more comfortable and confident in his singing, his clear tenor voice gaining volume. Every now and then, he saw Emma glancing at him, giving him a somewhat quizzical look. He briefly wondered what she was thinking, but he was enjoying himself and didn’t dwell on it.

When he hit the high note on the final ‘noel’ of the song, he was watching Marco’s beaming face, so he failed to see the look of awe on Emma’s.

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After bidding Marco goodbye and returning to their cars to travel to the next place, Emma sat wedged between August and Killian, trying to evaluate the feelings washing over her. Of course she liked Killian, and of course she found him attractive. She was a heterosexual female, after all. But after months of convincing herself that he was nothing more than her friend, suddenly her eyes were opened to the truth - she had feelings for him that went much deeper than simply friendship. It was as if that high note he sang hit her right in the heart.

“Alright there, Swan?”

She startled at his question and shook herself out of her musing. “Oh, um, yeah. I’m fine, just a bit chilly,” she replied, not looking at him. She didn’t want to risk him reading her thoughts.

Killian reached over to adjust the temperature setting on the console in front of her. His arm brushed against her leg, causing a rush of warmth through her that had nothing to do with the car’s heating system.

“Thank you,” she murmured, wondering why she hadn’t thought of doing that herself, while at the same time knowing it was because her mind was elsewhere. For the rest of the ride to the next location, she engaged August in conversation.

As the evening progressed, Emma somewhat successfully redirected her thoughts to the fun and joyful activity. Whenever they gathered to sing, she intended to put some distance between herself and Killian, but was magnetically drawn to him and his melodious voice.

After caroling at all of their scheduled stops, they made their way back to the church, where volunteers had coffee, hot chocolate and donuts waiting for them in the community room. Emma picked up her warm beverage and snack, then busied herself talking to Elsa and Anna. She saw Killian sitting with David and Mary Margaret, but didn’t join them as she normally would. Once her conversation with the sisters was over, she noticed Killian heading her way and quickly tossed her trash in the bin, then ducked into the restroom.

When she emerged several minutes later, Killian was leaning against the wall beside the door. “Swan, are you avoiding me?” he asked.

“What? No!” she immediately responded. “What makes you think that?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It just seems like you’ve been talking to everyone except me this evening. Have I done something to upset you?”

Her fingers began toying with the chain around her neck, a nervous habit of hers. “No, Killian, you haven’t done anything wrong. I just…I guess I was busy catching up with some of my other friends.”

Killian scratched behind his ear, a nervous habit of his own. “Sorry, Swan. I didn’t mean to accuse you. Of course you have other friends and want to talk to them. I shouldn’t have been so sensitive.”

Emma felt bad. Here he was apologizing when she had been avoiding him most of the evening. “Don’t worry about it, Killian. Like I said, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Looking around, she realized many people were getting ready to leave. “I think I’m gonna say goodbye to Mary Margaret and David and call it a night.”

“I think I’ll do the same.”

They walked together to the table where the couple still sat. After chatting with them for a few moments, Killian helped Emma into her coat and donned his own, then they exited the building. There was an awkward silence as they walked side-by-side toward their cars and she knew it was her fault. They usually spoke so freely and easily to each other, but now, her discomfort and confusion over her newly discovered feelings was driving an invisible wedge between them.

They reached her car and Killian yanked the driver’s side door handle, but it wouldn’t budge.

“You have to have the magic touch,” Emma stated. After breathing on the side of her balled fist, she rapped it on the doorframe just above the handle, then grinned at him triumphantly when she pulled on it and it instantly opened.

He was unimpressed. “I don’t think you need the magic touch, I think you need a tow truck,” he said dryly, rolling his eyes.

Giving a little huff, she settled behind the steering wheel. “My car might not be as fancy as yours,” she said, eyeing his Chevy Chevelle parked beside hers, “but it gets me where I want to go.”

“If you say so, Love,” he sighed. “Drive home safely.”

“I will,” she promised, then closed the door and fastened her seat belt. The VW’s engine roared to life, she pushed in the clutch, then shifted into reverse. After backing out of the parking space and putting it into gear, she waved at him and pulled out of the parking lot.

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Killian watched the dilapidated bug until it turned the corner, before he got into his own vehicle. As he traveled home, he wondered about Emma’s behavior throughout the evening. Everything seemed perfectly normal for the first couple of stops, but after caroling to Marco, she hardly said another word to him.

He racked his brain to figure out what he did to upset her, but couldn’t come up with anything. When they were in the car, she was either talking to August or appeared to be lost in thought. After arriving back at the church, he thought she would join Mary Margaret, David and himself at their table. He didn’t think anything of her talking to Elsa and Anna instead of sitting with them, until he was walking over to ask if he could get her another hot cocoa. She still had a small piece of donut left, but when she saw him coming, she tossed it in the trash and hurried into the bathroom.

It was at that point that he realized she was avoiding him for some reason. Even though she walked with him to her car, she still hardly said anything to him.

The Christmas caroling was fun. He thoroughly enjoyed the fellowship with the other singers and seeing the obvious pleasure the caroling brought to the recipients, but as he drove home, he had a hollow feeling in his gut. He wished he knew why Emma suddenly seemed uncomfortable in his presence.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Emma couldn’t sleep. Once she got home after Christmas caroling, she soaked in a hot bath for a while, then tried to read, but her thoughts kept drifting, so she finally gave up and went to bed. Now, she was lying wide awake, while memories of the last seven months ran through her mind.

When had she developed romantic feelings for Killian Jones? And more importantly, what was she going to do about it?

She never had any luck with dating. Oh, she’d been asked out plenty of times, but it usually ended up being a one time thing. The only two guys she went out with more than once were Neal and Walsh, and both turned out to be losers. Maybe the problem was that she set her standards so high, nobody could meet them.

Killian Jones might just prove her wrong…if she gave him a chance.

Rolling onto her side, she stretched to grab her phone off of the nightstand and checked the time. Seeing that it was only a few minutes after eleven, she sighed. She felt like she had been in bed for hours, tossing and turning, trying to clear her mind of the swirling thoughts.

Almost subconsciously, she tapped on her messages app and scrolled through until she reached the thread with Killian. They sometimes texted late in the evenings, so she was sure he wouldn’t mind.

E: Are you awake?

K: No. Sound asleep.

E: Liar.

K: What’s up?

Emma hesitated before answering, debating whether or not to take a risk. Killian had become a good friend and she had no idea if his feelings were anything like her own. If she admitted them, would it ruin their friendship, or lead to something wonderful?

Finally, she made a decision.

E: Can I call you?

Within seconds, his name appeared on her screen as an incoming call. Taking a deep breath, she steeled her nerves and answered, “Hey, I hope you don’t mind me texting you so late.”

“Not at all, Swan. What’s on your mind?”

“I, uh, I wanted to apologize for tonight. You were right - I was avoiding you.”

There was a long pause before he replied in a quiet voice, “May I ask why?”

It was her turn to pause as she tried to establish what she wanted to say. “I didn’t know you had such a great singing voice.”

“My voice is what caused you to avoid me?” he asked incredulously.

“No, I…it’s just that I…” She heaved a sigh. “I’m screwing this all up.”

“Screwing what up?”

“My apology and my…confession.”

“Confession?” he asked, his tone heavy with confusion. “What are you confessing?”

“I…you know what? Just forget it. This is a conversation I’d really rather have in person.”

She heard him clear his throat. When he spoke his next words, she had to strain to hear him. “I can be there in fifteen minutes, Emma.”

“Killian, I’m not asking you to come over in the middle of the…”

“I know you’re not asking, but I’m offering. Is that alright with you?”

Emma plucked at her blanket, knowing she probably wouldn’t get any sleep until she talked to him. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Positive. I’ll change clothes and be there as soon as possible.”

“Thanks, Killian. Drive carefully.”

After his assurance that he would, she hopped out of bed and tugged a hoodie over her pajama top. Then she began pacing the floor as she waited, trying to compose in her head what she was going to say.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Killian was never so glad that Storybrooke was small, since Emma lived on the opposite side of town. It also worked in his favor that the streets were nearly deserted and the town sheriff was likely snoozing in the police station, because he couldn’t help going a little over the speed limit to try to get there quicker.

His mind was racing, replaying what Emma said over the phone. A confession. What could that mean? Was she going to confess she didn’t want to be his friend anymore, or maybe she was dating someone? Engaged? Secretly married?

Stop it, he commanded himself. Of course she wasn’t married or engaged, or surely he would have found that out in the last several months.

Still, a confession usually meant something that was hard to admit. Could she possibly have feelings for him that went beyond friendship? Dare he hope for that?

Finally arriving at her apartment, he pulled up to the curb, cut the engine, and took a couple of deep, calming breaths. In a few minutes, he would find out whatever it was Emma wanted to confess. He just hoped he could handle it.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Emma was still trying to figure out what she was going to say, when she heard a soft knock on her door. Always the gentleman, she knew Killian wouldn’t want to wake her neighbors by knocking too loudly.

She gave herself a quick pep talk as she crossed the living room, then turned the knob and opened the door. If she hadn’t been so focused on the upcoming conversation, she would have laughed at her friend’s untidy appearance. He wore a pair of baggy gray sweatpants and a navy blue hoodie with ‘Adidas’ emblazoned on the front in white letters. His usually neatly combed hair looked like he’d run his hand through it numerous times and she saw a bit of toothpaste at the corner of his mouth.

Stepping aside, she waved him into the room. “Thanks for coming over.”

“Not a problem, Love,” he said.

She closed the door and turned to face him. It was obvious he was just as nervous as her by the way he rubbed at the nape of his neck. “Do you want to sit down?” she offered.

“Uh, sure.”

He sat on the edge of the sofa and she dropped down onto the other end of it, fidgeting with the drawstring of her hoodie. After several moments of tense silence, she said, “I guess I owe you an explanation for why I acted the way I did tonight.”

“You don’t owe me anything, but I’ll listen if you want to tell me.”

She gave him a small smile and he encouraged her with a slight nod. “I…we, um, we’ve known each other for over seven months now, right?”

“We met in May, so that sounds about right.”

“You’ve become a good friend to me, Killian. You’re easy to talk to and you always make me laugh, no matter how bad of a mood I’m in. But tonight, when I heard you sing, it was…it was like a switch flipped and suddenly I realized I feel…different towards you.”

When she paused for a few moments, he coaxed her to continue. “What do you mean by different, Swan?”

Slowly, she pulled her eyes up to meet his, and the gentleness she saw in the blue depths gave her the courage to go on. “My feelings have gone beyond friendship. I…I think I’m falling for you.”

Holding her breath, she awaited his response. The stunned expression on his face had her rethinking her decision to tell him, but the grin that slowly stretched across his handsome features soon pushed that thought away.

“I’m really happy to hear that, Emma, and I must say that it’s about bloody time!” he blurted, his eyes sparkling with happiness.

It was her turn to be stunned. “Wha-...does that mean that…that you…”

“I’m falling for you?” he said, completing her question. “I already did a long time ago.”

“Y-you did? But why didn’t you tell me?”

He nervously scratched behind his ear. “I didn’t think you were ready to hear it and I was afraid my confession would drive you away.”

“That’s why I was hesitant to tell you, too.” She paused and squinted at him. “You said a long time ago. Just how long?”

“Remember that day in August when you talked me into going to the beach with you? I was so self-conscious about taking my prosthesis off and letting you see my stump, but you grabbed me by the wrist to lead me out to the water like it didn’t bother you at all.”

“Of course it doesn’t. I’m a fan of every part of you, Killian,” she said, reaching out to take his prosthesis in her hand. “That was a long time ago. You kept your feelings hidden really well.”

“It wasn’t easy, but now,” he said, moving closer to her on the couch, “I don’t have to hide them anymore."

“No, you don’t,” she agreed, moving easily into his arms and peering up into his face; the look of pure adoration he wore melting her heart, while at the same time, making it beat faster.

Without a doubt, she knew she made the right decision.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

It has to be a dream, Killian’s mind was telling him. Emma just confessed having romantic feelings for him and now she was in his arms, looking for all the world like she wanted to kiss him. This couldn’t really be happening, could it?

There’s only one way to find out, he reasoned. Closing the distance between them, he brushed his lips against hers, then pulled back enough to see her chasing after him, clearly wanting more. Who was he to deny her?

The moment their lips connected in a deeper kiss, the sparks flew. What he had been thinking for months was confirmed; he truly was in love with Emma Swan.

He would have happily continued kissing her for the rest of the night (or of his life), but a need for oxygen superseded his plans. Slowly opening his eyes, he took in the look of complete bliss on her face. “Emma?” he whispered.

When her beautiful green eyes blinked open, he saw the same happiness he was feeling reflected in them. “Yeah?” she breathed.

“I’m way past falling for you. I’m in love with you.”

It was his turn to hold his breath as he waited for her response, but not for long. Immediately, she surged forward to kiss him again. Then, as her fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck, she replied, “Good, because I love you, too.”

Another breathtaking round of making out followed their declarations. Since neither of them was ready to let go of the other yet, they stretched out side-by-side on the couch, cuddling and kissing under a fleece blanket, while listening to Christmas music set to a crackling fire video on TV.

Soon, they were asleep in the arms of the person they loved. When Killian woke up In the morning with a crick in his neck from sleeping in an awkward position, he considered it well worth the pain.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Emma sat in the church on Christmas Eve, listening to Killian sing a solo of ‘O Holy Night’. It had been a year since she declared her love for him and a lot had happened since then, not the least of which was him asking her to marry him.

When he hit the high note towards the end of the song, Emma felt the now familiar tingle run down her spine. She was sure his smooth, mellow voice would always have that effect on her. As the final notes of the song faded away, she met his eyes and knew he would see all of the love and pride shining in her own, even in the dimly lit sanctuary.

He rejoined her in the pew and she entwined their fingers, then leaned in to whisper, “It was absolutely perfect, my love.”

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

A year ago, Killian didn’t want to sing loud enough for other people to hear; he never would have been brave enough to sing a solo in front of the whole congregation. Having Emma’s love changed that, along with so many other things in his life.

One thing that hadn’t changed was the fact that Emma is his best friend and soulmate. Having so few friends growing up, he cherished having someone with whom he could share everything. She is always there for him - listening, discussing, and cheering him on. Proposing to her was the easiest decision in the world.

It was her idea for him to sing a solo for the Christmas Eve service. As he prepared for it, he once again asked himself how she talked him into it, but the answer was the same as it was last year, when he made the momentous decision to go Christmas caroling.

He was utterly and completely in love with Emma Swan.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Wishing all of you a very Merry Christmas and a New Year that hopefully has lots of new Captain Swan content!

Tagging: @hookedmom​​​​​​ @kmomof4​​ @cs-rylie​​​​​​ @qualitycoffeethings​​​​​​ @grimmswan​​​​​​ @wyntereyez​​​​​​ @the-darkdragonfly​​​​​​ @ultraluckycatnd​​​​​​ @paradiselady19​​​​​​ @xarandomdreamx​​​​​​ @motherkatereloyshipper​​​​​ @julesep3026​​​​​​ @courtorderedcake​​​​​​ @lfh1226-linda​​​​​​ @pawshapedheart​​​​​​ @vampcoffeegyrl23​​​​​​ @tiganasummertree​​​​​​ @captainswan4life85​​​​​​ @bluewildcatfanatic​​​​​​ @eleveneitherway​​​​​ @elfiola​​​​​​ @kday426​​​​​​ @julieenchanted-swans​​​​​​ @gingerchangeling​​​​​​ @andiirivera​​​​​​ @djlbg​​​​​​ @jonesfandomfanatic​​​​​​ @snowbellewells​​​​​​ @huntressandlioness1​​​​​ @anmylica​​​​​​ @booksteaandtoomuchtv​​​​​​ @pirateherokillian​​​​​​ @cocohook38​​​​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​​​​​ @laschatzi​​​​​​ @zaharadessert​​​​​​ @jennjenn615​​​​​​ @yasbio2015​​​​​​ @lyssapup27​​​​​​ @nachocheese-itsmycheese​​​​​​ @singersdd​​​​​​ @mie779​​​​​​ @undercaffinatednightmare​​​​​ @winterbaby89​​​​​​ @xsajx​​​​​​ @jackieorioncat​​​​​​ @teamhook​​​​ @bdevereaux-blanche​​​​​​ @soniccat​​​​​ @searchingwardrobes​​​​​​ @jarienn972​​​​​​ @apiratewhopines​​​​​​​ @softkilly​​​​​​​ @goforlaunchcee​​​​​​​ @kymbersmith-90​​​​​​​ @captainswan217-blog

[chaotic-history]

Thank you @enlitment for the book tag! Putting it in a new post since it's long. This probably isn't the best time to do this when my brain is still brain fogging, but here goes

Last book I read: The Satyricon by Petronius, specifically the 1694 translation (shoutout to V's birth year). It's the second most fully preserved Roman novel, and I don't know what I was expecting from it, but it's just kinda meh? In its defense, the translator has a very specific writing style that didn't read very smoothly for me, so I'm sure it's much better in the original. The best parts imo were Encolpius and the poet complaining about modern (ie, to them) things in the exact same ways that we complain about the exact same things now.

Book I recommend: The Terra Ignota series by Ada Palmer. It's a sci-fi series with a philosophical bent set in the year 2454 and written mostly in the style of the Enlightenment era (the narrator, Mycroft, has a very bad case of 18thC brainrot). One of the things it touches on really well is how gender is perceived in different ways according to different standards, and I don't want to explain that since I think you have to go into the book not knowing a lot-- it's throwing you into a society that's as different from ours as the 18thC is, and you're supposed to feel like that. And I know "the worldbuilding is good" is probably overused, but it really is; parts are fantastical enough to feel like it's verging on a dream, and it's grounded in enough of a potential reality to make even the impossible things seem achievable. Featuring a very politically significant 18thC brothel, the ghost of Thomas Hobbes, the actual Achilles, Humanists, the world's #1 unreliable narrator, and a sex scene taken almost word-for-word from de Sade until the reader asks the narrator to stop.

Also Candide because I need to keep up my streak of convincing people to read Candide.

Book I couldn't put down: Do not underestimate my ability to put down literally anything. That said, the fourth and last Terra Ignota book (can you tell I'm trying very hard to sell it?). I can't say much about it because almost anything at that point is a massive spoiler, but books 1-3 are all gradually building up to a major event in book 4, and it's sort of the quiet kind of suspense where you know what's going to happen, but all you can do is wait and see the extent of the damage, and the main focus of the tension even during it is how you're going to rebuild, and any solution is so painfully flawed but it's something and the narrative drags you along throughout all of it by the sheer force of its hope.

Book I've read twice: Quite a few, but my favorites that I've read multiple times are Catcher in the Rye and L'Immoraliste. I read Catcher in the Rye the first time for class, and I don't want to go on another long rant, but I love Holden so much and I'm incredibly glad that I read the book when I did; I can see so much of myself in him and having sympathy for Holden taught me that maybe I need to have a bit more sympathy for myself as well. Also, sorry Mrs. [redacted] for stealing your copy of the book. It wasn't on purpose but it'd feel weird to return it now.

L'Immoraliste I originally picked up at the library to read the first time because based on the year published and the title I assumed like a 90% chance of it being gay, then I fell in love with the writing style and so I reread it in French. The part where Michel is going out to lay in the sun naked (<- absolutely terrible desc. of it but I can't think of smthn better right now) is up there in my top three book scenes ever.

A book on my TBR: Way too fucking many, reader, way too fucking many. On the top of the list right now is Goethe's Faust since I'm intrigued by @iron--and--blood's Faust AU for Morton's Hope, and also since I should maybe read some philosophy that isn't just French (does Goethe count as a philosopher? At least by the 18thC definition I think he could). And Goethe said V was good, so at least I know he has good taste.

Also I should maybe finally start reading all the Molière/Racine/Corneille stuff I've been stocking up on lol.

A book I've put down: Voltaire et Frédéric II by Roger Peyrefitte. It sucks shit and I've tried to read it at least five times now and every time I have to stop because it makes me want to personally murder the author by like 50 pages in and I am not exaggerating in the least.

A book on my wishlist: There's a couple 1780s editions of Villette's works for sale that I like to look at every so often... I'm sure I'll eventually cave in someday but for now I'll keep trying to convince myself I don't need it.

A favourite book from childhood: I had to google a bunch of stuff to find this since I couldn't remember the title, but it's first book from the Epic Order of the Seven Series by Jenny L. Cote, about a bunch of talking animals during various Bible stories/major events (yes it is very weird). This one is about Noah's Ark, and since the animals were from all around the world, parts of their dialogue were written in a bunch of different languages with a little dictionary at the back which I thought was the coolest thing ever (it kinda is tbh).

A book you would give to a friend: Depends on the friend and what I think they'd like, but the last book I gave to a friend was Discourses on Livy since we were talking about The Prince.

A book of poetry/lyrics you own: Childe Harold's Pilgrimage! Yet another book I haven't gotten around to reading yet.

A non-fiction book you own: Changes in the Land by William Cronon. It's about the ecological changes in New England from before the Europeans arrived roughly up to 1800 and how the environment shaped and was affected by the economies of the Native Americans and the settlers, and one of the points that really stuck with me was that one of the major differences between the two groups' relationships with the environment was that the Native Americans primarily viewed resources as being valuable in terms of the function they served, while the settlers saw natural resources as being valuable firstly because they could be sold, and he talks about how it was that mindset which we still had today that made a healthy relationship between the colonists' economy and the environment unsustainable. It's also written in a way that's super easy to follow, even if you know nothing about ecology (which I do not).

Currently reading: The first volume of V's correspondance from the Garnier edition. So far I've made it up to 1731, and I realised I'm still thinking of him then as young V even though he's 37. There's so many gems in the letters though (especially to Thieriot) and it keeps leading me down a bunch of rabbit holes.

Planning on reading next: Faust!

Tagging: @ouiouixmonami, @acrossthewavesoftime, @apurpledust, @captainsamta, and @orchatab

[buryyourthoughts]

Downpour

Ellie Williams x f!reader

Summary: You head to your boyfriends house early to surprise him for your 6 month anniversary date and get the shock of your life. Modern AU I guess.

a/n: I haven't written fanfics in YEARS but I've been so inspired by all the other amazing writers for TLOU ❤️ This is so un proofread and hidden on my NSFW sideblog lmfao but let me know what you think!!

contents: Slight abuse warning, slight drug and alcohol mention, cheating, angst, fluff.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You hated going on dates. Every single one you had to plan and organise and pay for but you did it for him. You felt bad that you made more at your part-time office job alongside uni so you paid for all your dates together and he never offered to change this. However this was your 6-month anniversary so you pulled out all the stops to prove you were the best girlfriend. He had been distant lately which had you concerned but every time you tried to talk about it, he brushed you off.

You went dress shopping with Dina earlier this week and found an amazing deep red dress that showed off your chest but was flowy and kept it "restaurant appropriate". You had a million other slutty dresses that you loved but he didn't like it when you showed off too much skin. You even went out your way to get some lacey lingerie that you know he likes if his instagram likes were anything to go by. That should have been your first red flag but he reassured you that he was just looking for present ideas for you and you believed him.

You quickly checked your watch and cursed at the time showing, he was always running behind so the earlier you turned up, the better. You knew the lingerie hiding beneath your clothes would put him in a good mood so you threw on a big jacket and grabbed your umbrella to protect yourself from the downpour outside and headed over.

You posted a quick selfie to your group chat for some courage on your walk over and Dina replied instantly with

"You're hot babe 🔥 he wont know what hit him 😉 "

"You're still with him, fr?? Cute dress tho." Ellie's reply came through seconds later.

You knew they both didn't really like your boyfriend but really, he was sweet when he wanted to be. He was just a bit rough around the edges, he said no one had ever really shown him "proper romance and love" before so you felt it was up to you to show him how you wanted to be treated. He hadn't really started to be super romantic yet but it had only been six months so you weren't worried, everyones relationships started out like this, right?

You got to his apartment block and shook off the excess water from your umbrella and left it in the entrance to drip dry before you headed out later. After going up the elevator you paused in front of his door, biting your lip. You were suddenly really nervous, a sinking feeling appearing in your stomach as you pulled out his spare key from under his doormat to let yourself in. The door closed softly behind you and you didn't immediately hear or see him. Your phone lit up his hallway as you were about to text him when you heard some noise coming from his bedroom. You locked your phone again and headed over, the click of your heels echoing in his dim hallway. You figured that he was actually getting ready on time for once, you could hear his music playing now and you smiled to yourself at the thought of him singing or dancing in the shower getting ready for your date.

You turned the door knob softly so you didn't startle him and headed in.

"Surprise baby-" you started, the door continued to open on its own to reveal the awful scene in front of you.

There he was, tangled and sweaty in his sheets with some random brown haired woman. She was bent over, face in the sheets and he was drilling her from behind. Her lewd moans filled the room and you felt claustrophobic. You couldn't think, you couldn't speak. You just stood there, open-mouthed and shocked.

"Y/N! It's not what it looks like, I promise!! She's just a friend!" He started, pulling out and yanking his sheets up over himself and the woman. Did he think you were stupid? You couldn't even see a condom.

"No, Levi don't, please. I'm not fighting you on this, I'm leaving". You managed to say. You honestly surprised yourself, you've never broken up with anyone before and if you were honest, you were a bit of a pushover. You believed in second chances, maybe third and fourth chances too but that's just the way you were. You spun on your heel and started to leave when he ran after you, now half clothed. You stumbled when his hands grabbed your waist, he turned you around and pushed you against the wall in his hallway.

"Y/N, please don't go, I promise she means nothing to me. I just had to let some steam out!" He was really close to you now, breath stinking of alcohol fanning out on your face.

"Please just let me leave, I don't want to fight on this." you whispered. His towering body was intimidating you now and you were starting to lose your bravery from earlier. You arms were held to your side by his strong hands. You had turned your face to get away from his breath but he wouldn't let you look away.

"Don't be such a bitch, it's not my fault that you won't sleep with me! What was I supposed to do?". Your heart shattered in this moment. He knew you wanted to wait, you had made mistakes before and slept with people too early and it led to your heart being broken so you decided this time that you would wait. You had really only planned on waiting a couple months, maybe four tops but as time went on you noticed you just didn't have any interest with sleeping with him. You had brushed it off as nerves and had decided that tonight was the night, and you wanted it to be special. You even had candles and fake rose petals hidden in your bag for after your date.

"LOOK AT ME" he yelled, your face squished in one of his hands. You froze, not breathing and staring into his eyes in the darkened hallway. You briefly wondered where this other woman was right now when his hand came down on your cheek, smacking you out of your daze.

"Are you even going to listen to me?" He continued, shaking your body against the wall. You quickly pushed his chest and ran out, dropping his spare key in the hallway. You rushed to the elevator and pressed the ground floor button multiple times to hurry it along. You felt weird, like you weren't really here. You face still stung from his slap but you couldn't think about that right now. You could feel the wetness of tears on your cheeks but it didn't feel like you were crying yet despite your heaving chest.

Your phone buzzed in your hands, it was him. You quickly declined his call and blocked his number. A few texts had come through from your dorm group chat that you browsed as a distraction until you left his building although reading about who had slept with who this week didn't entertain you like it normally would. The rain was still pouring down but you didn't even think about your umbrella in his building, you just walked out and kept walking until you couldn't anymore. Searching around you quickly found a bench in the entrance to the nearby park and headed towards it, as you were striding forward you tripped on a piece of raised pavement and twisted your ankle and fell to the floor in a heap.

Great. you thought, just what I need right now.

You examined your ankle, it stung but seemed ok. Your knees and shin had started to bleed and one of your heels had broken off. The tears really started to fall now, at least with the rain passerby's could barely tell you were sobbing. You pushed yourself off the ground and hobbled over to the nearby bench and slumped down and continued to sob. How could this have happened? Should you have been a better girlfriend? You always cheered him on when his band played at a local pub, handing out flyers in your uni or on the street. Selling t-shirts and organising adverts. Should you have just slept with him?

You immediately shook your head, trying to rid yourself of this thought. Suddenly your phone lit up, it was a text from Ellie that simply read "You ok?". You sniffed and unlocked your phone and dialed her number.

"Hey y/n! Everything ok?" she asked. Only two rings, she must be bored.

"H-he cheated" you cried. "Can you come get me? please?" you begged. You hoped she would, Ellie always knew how to cheer you up. You knew Dina would cheer you up as well but there was just something about Ellie that was different. She always made you smile and you felt safe in her company. You always looked forward to seeing her whenever you could find time between your coursework, job and your boyfriend. Ex- boyfriend you reminded yourself.

"Uhh, yeh sure! Are you ok though? Can you send me your location?" Panic creeping into her voice. In your head you could see her biting her lip and rubbing the back of her neck, she always did this when she was nervous. You quickly sent your location and mumbled "Yeh, no I'm fine, just come get me El?". After agreeing and promising to be as quick as she could.

Not long after you hung up, her truck pulled up across the road and she jumped out and ran over.

"Y/N! You're soaked! Did you not bring anything?" Her hands rested on your arms and you flinched slightly and you looked up at her. You felt like you couldn't speak, your eyes staring into hers when the tears started again. Ellie's eyes filled with concern as she took in your drenched form.

"You were both right" you sobbed, "he's an asshole and I hate him". The scene in front of Ellie wasn't quite what she was expecting. As much as Ellie hated your boyfriend, she didn't really want to be right, not like this when you were clearly so distraught.

"Can you take me home?" you plead.

"Of course, pretty girl. How 'bout I take you to mine? I can make us some dinner and put on those shit movies you like. You know you like my couch better!" she joked, now squatted down to your eye level. You liked her whole apartment more than your own, It was just so Ellie and it always smelled amazing.

"Can we smoke too?" you asked. The quicker you forgot about tonight the better. She grabbed your hands and got you standing and you wobbled, forgetting that your heal was broken and you had hurt yourself in this whole ordeal.

"Fuck, sorry Ellie. Can you help?" her eyes widened in concern, noticing the blood moving down your leg before picking you up bridal style, a small scream making it past your lips at the movement.

"My knight in shining armour." you joked, hand dramatically going to your forehead and giggling. Ellie huffed out a laugh and carried you over to her truck, opening the door and popping you in.

"Always for you, darlin' " Ellie said "Y'know I picked up a new strain as well that we can try, my treat" she winked at the end and you felt your face heat up and she closed the door. You sighed and sunk down in your seat, fastening your seatbelt whilst you waited for her. More often than not your cheeks were hot and your belly felt tight when you were around Ellie, she was such a casual flirt and you tried to not think about they way it was making you feel right now.

"Right, let's get you home and dry otherwise you're gonna catch a cold and I will be checking those cuts so don't think you can get out of it this time." Ellie always took care of you, even if it was a paper cut she would be there with a plaster and some alcohol on a cotton pad in an instant. It was almost like she had a sixth sense for you.

Ellie's hand rested comfortably on your thigh, spreading some warmth through your stomach whenever she squeezed it. You flicked on her radio for some background noise whilst she drove, you noticed that she was looking over at you every couple minutes, eyes scanning your face for a reaction but your face remained neutral. All you could honestly think about was the hand on your bare thigh. Her hand had wiggled its way under your dress and it sent your head spinning.

To distract yourself you quickly pulled down the mirror to scan your face, finally seeing the red finger and palm marks appearing on your cheek, hopefully Ellie hadn't noticed this yet with the cold and her flirting previously staining your cheeks. Ellie was fiercely loyal to her friends, but you noticed that she defends you the most and has punched men in clubs before for harassing you so who knows what she would do.

"Hey pretty girl" She said, turning her truck off "Y'there?" She tapped the side of your head bringing your attention back to here. You quickly smiled at her, and began unbuckling yourself, Ellie was already out and running to your side to help.

"Thank you Els, really." you replied solemnly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I won't lie, I've forgotten how tf to end a chapter so I simply just ended it. I have some ideas for a second chapter but I want smut and i'm AWFUL at writing it lmfao. Any tips or requests are appreciated 💕

[againstacecilia]

No More Wasted Time (Rewrite)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x female reader (modern!AU)

Word Count: 6.4k

Rating: E for sure. No minors.

Warnings: Childhood-friends-to-lovers, unprotected p-in-v, alcohol usage, break-up, hurt/comfort, heaps of emotion, overall smut warning.

A/N: We've come full circle here, folks! This is a rewrite of the first fic I ever wrote/posted, just wanted to try my hand at elevating my writing now that I've had some more practice. Please let me know what you think through reblogs and/or coming to yell at me in my asks! Here's the link to the NMWT universe masterlist if you wanted to peruse more of these two goofs. 🥰

Thank you for reading, and May the 4th Be With You. 💖

You had known Poe your whole life. For most of it, he’d just been the pesky older brother of your best friend. Your parents had been friends with his since long before you were born and the boys had just come built-in to the family they created.

Honestly, the dynamic had always worked; he teased and pestered his brother and it just sort of rippled over to you. It didn’t matter that you had snuck glances in high school at Poe as he pulled himself out of the pool, learning to admire the shift of muscles in his back or the strength of his arms. The hours you spent with him in their garage keeping him company and occasionally helping him fix his beat-up old car was just a way to pass the time when you had nothing better to do, and nothing to do with how just talking with him made you feel… Awake. Even in your darkest moments, the easy flow of conversation had been a light that opened your eyes and lifted a weight off your shoulders. Even the nights of teasing and poking fun at dive bars that never checked your fake IDs were just friendly. Never anything more.

And then you left. Went off to college and grad school and figured out who you were outside of the boxes of youth. Had experiences and grew and decided that coming home wasn’t such a bad idea. Especially when your boyfriend, Mark, had been so enthusiastic about joining you and starting your lives together.

It felt right to be back home. Six years and what seemed like a different life later, it felt right to be sitting on the back deck with your family, your parents and the Damerons sipping cider in the warm September afternoon.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” your mother starts, her hair blazing in the later afternoon sun, “Poe will be stopping by. Said he wanted to say hi.”

“I’m not surprised,” you roll your eyes with a smile, “he’d never miss an opportunity to be a pain in my ass.”

“He said he misses you.”

You hum a non-committal response, taking another sip of your drink. “You know what, I’m glad he’s coming by. It’ll be good to see him. I don’t think I’ve seen him since Christmas last year.”

The conversation continues around you and you take a moment to close your eyes and breathe in the late summer air. Two years in a colder, northern state made it clear that you never wanted to be without the sun again. Its strong, constant presence at home was a sign to you that being here was right. Being home was right.

As you begin to doze the creak of the screen door signals Poe’s arrival. You sleepily open your eyes and turn to shoot him a grin. “Well finally, Mom said you were coming by. I’ve been waiting for hours.”

He sketches a playful bow, “So sorry to have kept you waiting.” He swiftly makes his way to the parents, dolling out hugs and greetings before settling down in a chair next to his father.

The afternoon progresses, laughter and chit-chat filling the air. Poe pushes as many of your buttons as possible, as usual, but it feels like home. You playfully threaten to kick his ass out, laughing as you stand and make your way toward the door to get another drink from the kitchen.

Just as you open the refrigerator door, your phone buzzes in your pocket. A tipsy giggle falls from your lips as you pull it up and see your boyfriend’s name flashing across the screen.

“Hi baby,” you answer brightly, “everything go okay getting the UHaul?”

Mark is quiet for a moment, static crackling on the line. He finally begins to speak, the minutes blurring together as he feeds you excuse after excuse. Finally, he tells you he isn’t moving home with you. He isn’t coming. You hang up the phone in a daze.

The living room is silent as you stare at nothing for a minute, not fully remembering how you’d gotten to the couch. Shock has locked up your mind and the backlight on your phone fades to black in your still-hovering hand. He isn’t coming…

The feeling of being watched shakes you from your haze but you don’t turn to the form you feel hovering in the doorway to the kitchen. You aren’t sure how long he’d been standing there, but it’s easy to assume he’d heard enough of the conversation to know what’s going on.

“You can come out of there, Poe, you’re a terrible snoop,” you say quietly.

“Who says I was snooping?” You finally turn to shoot him a weak glare. He’s standing against the doorframe, arms clad in his favorite olive green hoodie crossed over his torso. “I heard a raised voice and thought I’d come see what all the commotion was about.”

“Save it, Poe,” you sigh, slumping against the couch, “I’m not in the mood.”

He looks at you with an all-too-knowing gaze. The one downside of knowing Poe as long as you had: he’d known you just as long. “Alright, alright. I know you aren’t mad at me specifically, so I’ll play nice. Wanna talk about it?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Wanna drink about it?”

You look at the half-empty drink in your hand and give it a shake. “Sure. Go make me another one. I’ll be done with this one when you get back.” He leaves with a nod, disappearing back into the kitchen.

By the time Poe returns with two fresh drinks and, to your surprise, a bottle of whisky, your drink is indeed gone. “Figured I’d bring the whole bottle, assuming I heard that conversation correctly. What was this one’s excuse?” He sits down next to you on the couch.

“He said something along the lines of, 'You just have so much going for you and I’m only going to bring you down.’ I told him I wasn’t in the business of fixing broken men anymore and if he wanted to break up with me then he needed to just come out and say it. Then he got mad at me for quote, 'not giving a shit’, called me a bitch, and told me it was over.” You hold your hand out for the drink, only to have Poe put the open bottle in your palm instead.

“What a stupid kid.”

“Maybe I’m the stupid one,” you scoff as you take a swig, the amber liquid burning its way down your throat and honing your shock into something sharper. “How do I always attract these kinds of guys?”

Poe looks at you for a second, an unfamiliar emotion on his face. You blink and it’s gone, replaced by the cool, nonchalant mask he usually wore. “Like I said, stupid kid. Might be time to set your sights on a man.”

“Oh sure, bring on the men in their suits with a 401k and a car they didn’t haggle off a junk lot. Where could I find them? I’m sure they’d be interested in a girl fresh out of grad school who still doesn’t have a job. A real catch.”

“You’d be surprised at what people see as attractive. Me, for example. I don’t do too badly. But I’m incredibly attractive so that isn’t too surprising,” he says with his trademark smirk.

“Shut the fuck up,” you mutter, half-heartedly throwing a pillow at him. Surprisingly, he does, and you fall into an easy silence, the only sound coming from the quiet news story on the tv.

After a few minutes, your parents and the Damerons come in and begin gathering up their things to go out. “We decided to grab a cab to Mauri’s for dancing, you kids want to join?” Your mom asks, slipping her shoes on in the entryway.

The hometown bar was legendary for Friday night dancing, but the usual draw just doesn’t tug on you. “Nah, Mark just called and told me he isn’t coming. Not really in the mood for dancing.”

“Oh honey,” your mother sighs, “I’m so sorry.” She walks to your side and perches on the arm of the couch. “Do you want us to stay?”

A warm glow momentarily fills your chest at her concern. “No, please go have fun. I’m just gonna hang here and go to bed early.”

Your mom kisses the crown of your head and pulls your gaze to hers. “If you need anything, we’ll come home right away.”

“Don’t worry, I have to work early so I’ll keep her company,” Poe gallantly offers. You subtly send him a grateful glance. He winks back with a grin.

“Okay, if you’re sure…” Your mom begins before your dad gently pulls her away, reminding her that you’re an adult and that you’ll ask for help when you need it.

The taxi pulls up and your parents file out the door, already bubbling about what songs they hope the band plays and what friends are already there waiting for them. The house quiets down again and you sink back into your seat.

Damn, the couch is small, you think to yourself, realizing how slight the distance is between you and Poe. Was he that close the entire time?

Shaking your head, you turn your attention to the windows overlooking a tidy front yard. The sky outside is on its way to twilight and, in the companionable silence, your mind wanders back to the phone call with Mark. There goes a year of my life… What do I do now?

Poe abruptly speaks up, pulling you out of your moping. “Alright, time for a change of scenery. Want to go sit on the back porch? Get a fire in the fire pit going?” he asks, turning to face you. That man never could keep still long enough to even get through a commercial break.

"Sure. I don’t have a jacket, though. Packed all my cold clothes so they’re sitting in storage.” A small pang rings through you as you remember who you packed all your things with. Looks like I won’t be unpacking with Mark after all…

Whether he sees the hurt in your eyes or not, he doesn’t acknowledge it. “You can wear mine, ya baby,” he scoffs, taking off his hoodie in one swoop and handing it to you, “It isn’t that cold yet.”

You ignore the jab and head towards the back of the house.

The night is starting to cool off. Leaves are starting to turn but not fall, summer is starting to yield to autumn. You pick the oversized chair closest to the fire pit and climb into it, curling up and putting on his sweatshirt as you go. He doesn’t say anything as he grabs some wood from the shed and piles it into the fire pit. Sure, steady movements show just how many times he’s done this, strong arms and dexterous hands building up the logs around the smaller kindling. It doesn’t take long before he’s got a crackling fire going, the flames dancing in the twilight glow. He settles into the chair opposite you. Some time passes in silence before you finally say:

“I’m such an idiot.”

Poe holds space for you to figure out the emotions warring inside you. He doesn’t try and fix the problem, just stares into the flames and waits for you to continue. Usually the picture of calm, you can’t help but notice the muscle flicker in his arm as his fingers tense into a fist. Almost like he’s wanting to argue with the words falling from your lips. From the truths that flow as alcohol plies your tongue.

“I should have seen this coming… Who am I kidding? Of course the only guys who are interested in me end up having mommy issues or daddy issues or something and I, ever the rehabilitator, can’t seem to just let them see a fucking therapist. I have to fix them. So, apparently, I deserve this. Just doomed to a life of bouncing from guy to guy until I’ve given them all the second chances they don’t deserve. I’m a fucking mess.”

Your voice breaks on the last word and you at last let the tears come. The dam breaks and you bury your head in your hands as the last of the shock wears off and your mind comprehends what’s happened. Soft steps walk toward you and Poe slides into the oversized chair next to you.

Just as you pull your legs up to tuck into yourself, Poe slides his arms around you. Both strong and steady, he slides one under your knees and braces one behind your shoulders to pull you into his lap. As soon as you’re settled, you release the tight grip on your legs and slip your arms around his shoulders, leaning into his embrace and letting him hold you as you cry. You don’t worry about why you’re suddenly letting yourself be so vulnerable and exposed emotionally with him, you just let him comfort you with soothing strokes down your back. He lets you cry and, eventually, starts humming. It isn’t any song in particular, he just hums and works a beautiful melody that you can feel in your whole body. You’re familiar with the timbre of his voice, rich and warm, helping you through the sobs rather than trying to stop them. Weathering the storm with you. Finally, the tears stop, your breathing evens out, and you both just sit there for a little while.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, pulling your arms from around his shoulders and wiping your eyes, “I guess it all just kind of caught up with me.”

“You don’t have to apologize, we’ve all been there,” he squeezes you in a small hug but doesn’t let you go. “Although, I’ve never seen you like that.”

“We’ve known each other our whole lives and you’ve never seen me cry?”

"No, I’ve never seen you doubt yourself.”

You don’t respond for a moment before asking, “What do you mean?”

“In all the years we’ve known each other, I’ve never seen you stop believing in yourself. You’ve always been this confident, albeit stubborn, person who was actually known to give me a challenge every once in a while.” You look up to see a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Why do you think I never complained when you came over?”

“Uh, because we were kids and didn’t have a choice in the matter?”

“My brother was always having friends over. You’re one of very few I didn’t ask my parents to bar from the house.”

“Sweet talking me right now, Dameron?”

“Just thought you could use some perspective.”

Throughout the entire exchange, you didn’t move and he didn’t let you go. It’s dark now, mellow in the September evening. The crackling of the fire and the wind in the mature trees are the only sounds as you decide to sneak another look up at his face, your breath snatched away by what you see.

He’s staring into the fire; eyes and face unburdened by facade. The flames light up his dark brown eyes, brows slightly furrowed as if in some deep thought. Thick stubble, maybe a couple of days’ worth, peppers his strong jaw, his mouth set in a thin line. A scowl, so unlike the roguish smirk you’ve seen light his face for as long as you can remember. You can’t stop yourself as you reach up to lightly run a finger over those full lips, some emerging part of you demanding to be noticed in this intimate and uncharted territory.

His eyes snap from the fire to yours, just as surprised as you are to find your fingers brushing from his lips up his jaw and down his neck, savoring and memorizing the lines of his face; the flames in his eyes that aren’t entirely just reflections from the fire pit in front of you.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice as rough as the stubble under your fingers. His pulse hammers through the vein in his neck, tempo nearly matching yours as blood thunders through your body. You wonder if he can feel it in the lingering touch of your fingertips.

“I honestly don’t know.” You quickly take your hand away and start to push out of his warm embrace. “I’m so sorry.”

“Wait.” He doesn’t let you get up as he gently adjusts you so he can see you a little better. “I didn’t mean that to sound like stop. Just… please. Stay.”

So you do. Wrapped up in his sweatshirt, in him, the smell of him familiar and somehow entirely new now. After your heartbeat settles a bit you whisper, “Tell me what you’re thinking?”

He continues his silent vigil, staring at the flames and tracing circles along your leg. He’s quiet for long enough that you begin to think he didn’t hear your silent request. As you’re about to ask again, he speaks:

“I’m thinking… I’m thinking that I don’t want to ruin this.”

Your heart drops, waiting for the blow to land. The fear that you’d misread the situation and that the connection you’d felt flickering in the fading light wasn’t reciprocated surges up and you prepare for him to disappear when, suddenly, words are tumbling from him like he’s afraid he won’t be able to get them all out if he doesn’t do it all at once.

“I don’t want to ruin what we have, what we’ve always had. I know I’ve always been a bit of a bully, picking on you the way I’ve always picked on my brother, but underneath it all I’ve always known you had a hold on me. You worked your way into a fundamental part of who I am without even trying. I almost asked you not to leave a couple of years ago, but you were set on going to grad school and I knew I couldn’t get in the way of that dream. And when you brought that Mark guy home for Christmas…”

The memory flashes in your mind. His parents’ snow-covered house, lights flickering merrily in the deep winter night, glowing as you opened the door and greeted everyone. The night had gone well but… Poe had left early that night, muttering something about seeing friends from out of town before slipping out the door. The realization must’ve been clear on your face because he nods and says, “That’s why I bailed that night. Seeing you flushed from the cold walking through the front door, eyes sparkling from all the Christmas cheer, I felt lighter than air. Our eyes met and I could’ve sworn I saw something spark… But then I looked behind you and saw him, saw the way you looked at him throughout the night, and I couldn’t take it. I had to get out. I told myself that night that I would never be anything more to you than what I had always been and to move on.”

The glistening in his eyes breaks your heart, the urge to comfort him enough to bring your hand back up to his face. You cup your hand around his jaw and he sighs, closing his eyes and leaning into the contact. Without opening his eyes, he whispers, “I’m sorry. I promised myself I wasn’t ever going to tell you any of this.”

“I’m glad you did, Poe.” Your free hand rests on his chest, savoring the heart beating solidly beneath. “I really am.”

“Please tell me what you’re thinking.”

Now it’s your turn to be quiet for a moment. You pull your hands back to tuck into your chest and lay your head on him once again. After a couple of steadying breaths you say, “Do you remember the last night I was here before I left for school?”

Of course he did. You didn’t think either of you could forget that night. You and your families, along with some other friends, got together for karaoke at your favorite bar as a send-off. People steadily trickled out all night but you, Poe, and a couple of other friends straggled behind until it was suddenly one in the morning. You had spent the night singing with him, song after song, harmonizing and coming up with your own lyrics to songs you both knew by heart.

“I do. That’s when I almost asked you to stay.”

“There was a part of me that wanted you to. I went to the bathroom while Henry was singing some terrible rendition of "Runaway” and, as I was washing my hands, I heard you start “Wonderful Tonight”. The whole world stopped, Poe. I snuck out of the bathroom to watch you sing and I couldn’t breathe… I wrote it off as the night of drinking making me goofy but I swear to God, Poe, I’ve heard you sing that song a million times and never heard it that way before. And then you looked at me. You looked right into me and saw all of me and I couldn’t look away. The memory of it all pops into my head sometimes and I’m still left breathless by it. By you.“

As you stop speaking, you could swear the wind and fire stop making noise too. Nothing exists outside the shaking breaths and thundering heart you can hear, unsure if they’re coming from you or Poe. You can feel it; the freefall you were about to be in. Was it really only an hour ago you were upset about some boy breaking up with you over the phone? Some kid who wasn’t ready for everything you wanted for your future? And here, right now, was a man. An honest-to-God man, willing to keep his needs hidden so you could choose your own path…

You lift your head up and look at his face to gauge his reaction to what you just told him. He looks down at you with starlight and flames in his eyes as he meets yours and then, slowly, as if expecting you to disappear, Poe closes the small distance between you and kisses you.

It’s… Soft. Almost hesitant, a silent invitation without expectation. He’d never put you in a situation where you didn’t have a choice and, even now, even after both of you let down your walls and shared these tender secrets, he’s still giving you a choice. There’s no doubt in your mind as you deepen the kiss, putting all the words you’d been holding back for years into the contact. He lets loose his breath in a sigh and sends trembling hands to tentatively explore your body. The timid touches, feather-light and careful, make you smile as you pull away.

“I want this, Poe,” you promise him, your hands cradling his face, “I want you, and I have for a long time.”

His smile in return sends sparks through your veins and he wastes no time threading his fingers into your hair, sending you crashing back together. His free hand, strong and sure and steady now, freely roams every curve of your body. His mint and cedar smell wraps around you as your own hands grasp at his sweatshirt. Wanting- needing- more, you playfully nip at his bottom lip.

His sharp intake of breath makes you pause, worried you’ve done something wrong, but a laugh rumbles low in his chest. “So that’s how you want to play?” he mumbles into your lips.

A conspirator's grin lights your features, “I don’t have the faintest idea what you mean.” Before he can respond, you turn your attention to his neck, kissing a trail down the side. You nudge the collar of his t-shirt away enough to gently graze your teeth over the soft spot where his neck meets his shoulder, his entire body shivering at the sensation.

“Careful,” he breathes. “Careful, sweet girl, we’ve got ti- oh fuck.”

Interrupting whatever train of thought Poe had started, you shift your body over his and straddle his legs, pinning him to the chair and stopping his words with a searing kiss. After a moment, you pull back to look into his face. His eyes burn with emotion; those beautiful, dark eyes, almost black with desire in the glow of the dying fire. No one has tended to it in a while and it looks like no one will for a while longer…

“Tell me you want me,” you softly request.

“I want you.” His hands tremble with restraint against your hips.

“Again.”

“I want you,” he responds again, the quivering spreading to the rest of his body.

“Then have me, Poe,” you whisper, reaching for the hem of his shirt, “because I want you, too.”

A low growl escapes his lips as the internal leash snaps. His lips find yours again and you part for him easily, his tongue hungrily sweeping through. The lingering taste of whisky tickles your lips and adds to the fire burning in your body. Every touch, every noise and place your body meets his surges with wildfire, the driving demand for more, more, more pounding in time with your heartbeat. He tears away from your lips to find any piece of skin not buried in his hoodie, kisses nearing desperate as your hands explore the planes of his chest. The muscles flex and shift, your nails finding purchase as you grasp the soft fabric of his shirt.

“Poe, please…” You’re not entirely sure what you’re asking for, the pulsing need in every corner of your body taking control of your tongue and nearly begging for more. More of this, more of him. Taking the hem of his shirt in your hands, you begin to tug it up and off of him when he senses the shift and takes over.

In one swift motion, he has you in his arms and stands. His long legs eat up the distance from the deck to the door, then inside to the guest room you’re staying in. Once inside, he lays you reverently on the bed and kneels on the ground next to you.

“Wait,” he pants, forcing himself to take a breath and remove his hands from your body. You whine at the loss, sitting up and grabbing for him. He stops you and asks, “You’re sure? Earlier this afternoon you had a boyfriend and now… I just don’t want you to feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”

The sincerity of his words fills your heart to near bursting. Had you really been treated so poorly that this moment of true decency felt like a gift? Taking your own steadying breath, you rise to your knees and pull him up to face you, wrapping your hands around his. You’d told him you wanted him, you had no other words to give him. So, instead, you guide his hands to your lips to kiss them while your gaze stays locked with his and nod.

“Good,” is all Poe says with a heart-breaking smile before gripping your waist and tossing you back onto the bed. Your laugh tangles with his in the air, a shimmering melody and harmony you’ve been practicing your entire life.

The wildfire burning in your veins flares back to life at the gleam in his eyes. He climbs onto the bed over you and hovers there, eyes drinking in your body spread out underneath him. He hikes the hem of his hoodie over the waistband of your pants and traces a finger over the sliver of skin peeking through. Agonizingly slow, he ghosts his hand up, up, up your torso to graze over the fabric of your bra.

“So many layers,” he muses, hand never stopping its movement as he leans down to brush his lips over yours.

You’re beyond words. The promise of him touching you, really touching you, striking you dumb. You can only focus on where his hand is and, if you move just right…

“Come on, baby, tell me what you want,” he whispers, voice skittering over your bones, full of silken promise.

“Touch me,” you manage to whine, too entranced with the way his body feels over yours to be embarrassed at the begging mess you’ve been reduced to.

“Yes, honey, but where?” Stubble scrapes gently along your cheek as Poe dips his mouth to your neck.

You get ahold of yourself enough to grab his hand over your layers, pressing down and responding with a breathy, “Here.”

“That’s a good girl.” Heat flares in you again at the praise. He nips at your ear while pulling his hand out of your shirt and grabbing the hem, taking both the layers and pulling them over your head. His long fingers, lightly calloused from years of work and playing guitar, slip the straps of your bra off of your shoulders and he slides the garment away from your breasts, exposing the heated and tingling skin to the cool air. His eyes spark with awe and lust as he cups both of them with his hands.

Your legs press together seeking any release from the tension building in your core and a small whimper sneaks its way out of you. The movement isn’t lost on Poe and he takes momentary pity on you, pressing a deep, lingering kiss to your lips. “I’m going to enjoy,” he murmurs, “Coaxing every one of those noises out of you.”

“Promises, promises,” you chide, finding a little more of your voice.

“There she is.” Poe’s smile lights the dim room and brings a smile to your face as well.

If your heart didn’t already feel like it was full to bursting, the vulnerability on his face would’ve done it. Your friend was here, the boy you grew up with was now the man making you feel safer and happier than you had in years. The realization helps you bring down that final wall, any hesitation or fear falling away and clearing your mind.

This. This was why none of your relationships had worked in the past. Why there was always that little something that felt like it was missing. You had crawled through deserts of heartache and sorrow to find that the oasis was here, with him, all along.

Flinging every scrap of self-consciousness to the wind, you take his lower lip between your teeth and nip it gently. His appreciative groan urges you on, encouraging you to grab his shirt and yank, pulling it off his lightly muscled torso. His hands make quick work of the clasp to your bra and, within a few heartbeats, the garment falls to the floor. Fumbling hands open his belt and pants. Your body aches with the promises his hands make along your skin.

“Get your… Get your pants off,” you demand between kisses.

He laughs, pure and rich, before quickly acquiescing to your demands. You take his moment of distraction to maneuver out of your own shorts and underwear. When Poe looks back at you, he pauses, eyes taking in every inch of your skin laid bare before him.

The look in his eyes when his gaze finally meets yours is like coming home.

Beyond words, Poe dives back into you with a fervor. It’s an unleashing. He grips the back of your neck with one hand while the other skates down your body and lands on the outside of your thigh, pulling your leg up low around his hips.

The tension in your body has you about to break. Your hand seeks him out, winding between your bodies and wrapping around the proud length of him. His hips surge forward at the contact, silently begging you for more. There’s no hesitation as you languidly pump him up and down, his arms beginning to shake from holding himself above you.

“Sl- Slow down,” he shudders, “You’re driving me wild here.”

You don’t respond, only keeping that gentle, tantalizing pace going, savoring the way his body responds to your touch.

Pulling away from your lips, Poe’s hand surges down to grab your wrist, halting your teasing. “Someone isn’t very good at listening,” he growls.

“Someone is taking his sweet time,” you fire back, mischief lacing your words.

Poe settles onto his knees and your leg falls from where it’s been curled around his body. He brings your hand up above your head, taking its twin and crossing your wrists in one hand, pinning them to the pillow. “You’re going to regret that,” he promises, sending a wave of excitement through you.

His hand releases your wrists and he slowly eases down your body, eyes never leaving yours as he settles between your legs, shoulders settling under the backs of your thighs. His face, sun-kissed and as familiar as your own, framed by your legs, it all makes your breath hitch and heart pound with anticipation.

A wink is the only warning you get before his mouth is on you, kissing and licking and drinking you in like a glass of fine wine. Your hands jerk to the covers next to you, grasping for purchase to keep you from flying out of your skin. His tongue dances through every inch of you.

“Poe…” His name is the only word you can utter, the only prayer you can muster as he offers his own kind of worship. Sparks light your vision as you barrel towards release and your hands weave into his curls, begging him to stay right there…

You get one more breath before the orgasm is tearing through your body. He never breaks away from you, rather, his claiming grip on your thighs keeps you tight to him. He never falters through the waves rolling down your spine that send you shaking.

It could’ve been hours or it could’ve been seconds, but, as the tide recedes and your mind drifts back into the present, Poe rises to his knees and brushes a hand along the side of your face. “You still with me, baby?”

You summon a nod, glazed eyes finding his above you.

“That’s a good girl,” he croons, lifting each of your legs up and over his shoulders once again. He kisses the inside of each knee as he settles your legs.

Like a marble sculpture, chisled by the hands of artists and imagined by the minds of poets, he kneels before you, eyes burning in the soft lamplight of the room. “Tell me you want me,” he asks softly, echoing your demand from before.

“I want you.” You’ve never wanted anyone or anything more.

“Again,” he echoes again, slowly notching himself at your blazing entrance.

“I want you.” Your voice is bright and clear.

“Good,” he responds, and slips easily into you.

Like a puzzle piece gently settled into place, your soul feels just how right it is for you to be here. It isn’t just sharing your body with someone, it’s a homecoming. The way your bodies meld and match is secondary to the echo of contentedness at the realization that your paths have finally led you here.

He starts gently, allowing you time to adjust to the fullness of him. A gentle rise and fall as he rocks into and out of you. His hands grip your thighs while his lips kiss anywhere he can reach, unable to completely hold back. And you don’t want him to. You want to feel every inch of skin and muscle you can. The need burns through you as you reach for the sturdy legs beneath him, just out of your reach.

“Please,” you gasp as he begins to pick up the pace, “I need… I need to…”

“Anything,” he says, letting your legs fall so he can lean into your reach. “Anything, it’s yours.”

You pull him over top of you, not caring as his full weight crashes onto you, and wrap your arms over his shoulders. Scorching kisses brand your collarbone and neck as he wraps around you as well and flips over so your body lies on his. All the gentle touches and movements are lost as he picks up his pace, punishing and overcome with need.

“Yes,” you sigh, burying your face in the crook of his neck and panting against his sweat-slicked skin.

From his lips pour praise, drunk on the feeling of you wrapped around him. Draping loving words around you like silk and lace, he punctuates each word with kisses and bites and doesn’t stop holding you through it all.

The edge of another orgasm looms before you, but you hold back as much as possible, wanting to tumble over the edge with him. You lift your head just enough to look into his eyes, the beginning of laugh lines etched into the skin around them. “Let go, Poe, I’m ready.”

Pressing a kiss to his lips, you rest your forehead against his and shift your hips in time with his. The angle threatens to overwhelm you but you hold on, freeing your hands to slip into his hair. Energy sparks around you and, with one final thrust, Poe tips over the edge and pulls you with him.

Shattering is the only way you can describe the feeling of the waves burning through you, Poe half a breath ahead of you. Panting and shivering from the exertion, you fully collapse on top of him, heartbeats pounding in call and response to each other. You’re fully content to lie like this forever, wrapped in his arms and the smell of him, skin to skin and souls laid bare to one another.

He kisses the top of your head, finally adjusting to roll you over next to him. He looks into your eyes, something unsaid burning just below the surface of his intense gaze.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” you say quietly, never looking away from him.

“I’m thinking,” he pauses for a moment, “that I wasted a lot of time not telling you how I felt. And that I don’t want to miss any more time.”

“Then we won’t.” You smile brightly up at him, taking in the excitement and joy on his face. “You’re stuck with me, Dameron.”

He kisses you again, sweet and gentle and unhurried. You kiss him back, trying to put all the words you held yourself back from saying into it. Making up for lost time. He pulls away, looking you up and down, wonder shaping every feature.

“No more wasted time. You and me against the world,” you say softly.

He pulls the covers over both of you and, as he pulls you in close to his chest, he repeats reverently, “No more wasted time.”

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[windupaidoneus]

first you're not horrible and in fact I care about you deeply and dearly, second!! Tell me about that furry modern AU i've seen you post a bit about I think? the one where they work office jobs. If you have anything you wanna say about that :] or um. Tell me hilde and emet's favourite date activities !

green. sneef. i hold ur kind words so close to my heart. always. even when i feel bad!! which is saying!! u know how it is with brain bad...

& of course i can tell u about my Epic Furry Modern AU where they work office jobs!!!!! it's one i haven't actually pondered TOO much yet but the beautiful thing abt thinking is that it's something u can do & then u have thoughts. isnt it beautiful

it would be separate from my Regular Modern AU which has its own lore. in this one they are really. coworkers. to start with. this one actually started off bc i was designing a fursona for hilde & the image came to me of him.. well hold on. this

^ this is him looking up over his shoulders while Handsome Kind of standoffish Smells good fuckkkk he smells GOOD coworker (though the way i see it it's more similar to like, when two companies work together? & they're from diff. companies basically. yeah) reaches over his head to grab something from the shelf he was sorting. & well emet is an Owl so he has Big Feathery Arms kind of like a cape... so in that scenario hilde is kind offf getting enveloped in that. not really bc emet isnt touching him but. yeah. if this hapepend to me id just die homosexual style i can promise you this

i think magic exists in this universe however we still need desk workers yk. magic doesnt, err, magically erase bureaucracy. Sad! theyre both full of magical potential but yknow when ppl either have a lot of skill but cant get hired for anything relevant to them so they settle for some nothing job OR the thing theyre really good at doesnt pay well so they go for smth that doesnt align w their preferences for the sake of living comfortably financially even if it means work is hell on their mind? them. hilde is the one who cant get hired for smth he likes & emet is the one going for a job that pays good rather than a job that suits what he likes doing. though of course he does get really really into the managing & organising aspect of Office Worker due to le autism. no way he isnt a manager of some sort he is NOT at the bottom of the ladder in any universe. i wouldnt say hilde is at the bottom of the ladder either bc he DOES have good skills & is generally a very applied worker (also idk im really not gunning for them having an unbalanced dynamic as coworkers, same company or not) but he definitely brushes his job off as not that important if asked what he does

emet probably has a sort of Reputation that makes him sound unapproachable but in the few interactions theyve had hes been a very reliable person to work with so hilde isnt particularly deterred from maybe trying to make friends for that reason. hes just.. socially awkward & anxious to start with. the moment their other coworkers (who hilde is actually like, decently friends with, likely one of the scions who mightve even been his friend before he started working there too. hell, could be a zero! or two even) catch that hes trying to befriend the guy with the Reputation theyyy try to orchestrate ways for them to work alongside each other more lmao. or like ohhh shucks i left xyz in the office over there can you go get it for me since youre nearby </3 which is entertaining for everyone in the know to watch.

they do get to work more as time goes on bc i feel like hilde would be doing like... communications stuff. great for the social anxiety lmao. & so relaying info & working out how the companies can better work w each other would be at least partly on him. he'd be involved in that i thinks. & ofc that would also involve the ppl in higher positions. fuck iahve so amny more ideas but im actually falling asleep in my seat remind me to rb with more tomorrow + the date activities ahhh

[thesungod]

https://www.tumblr.com/thesungod/716124275151667200/httpswwwtumblrcomthesungod716101402178486272?source=share

Right, makes sense to see it as a plot device. I guess when you consider all the factors there really weren't a lot of other choices 💀

Thanks for the lovely reply and the fic rec :) I will def check it out

Btw do you have any solangelo fic recs or fics that you like? I've been having a hard time finding fics

solangelo recs?? of course!!

well, first off: anything solangelo by @buoyantsaturn who i hope doesn’t mind being bothered tagged. Particularly I know what I should do, but I just can’t walk away and I’m in Hell. Both Modern AUs and both masterpieces!! The first is a College AU that largely focuses on grief and healing, the other an AU where Will has a daughter and hires Nico as a nanny.

As someone who usually prefers canon fics, these were soooo great.

But really, everything I’ve read from this author is well written and captures Nico and Will so well that you can’t go wrong. Pick one and enjoy.

also: like a dog with a bird at your door by RegretfullyRegretful (and anything else by this author too). It’s also a Modern AU (Nico and Will are best friends who marry for convenience) but oh. god. Oh god. Obsessed with it.

Big classic: both with the lights on and will the lights on (same story but told by Will’s PoV) by nikkiRA. This is my comfort fic. I re-read it what? Once every two months? And it hits every single time. It’s a lighthearted College AU for when you need a reminder that love exists. Also Opportunity Knocks, still by nikkiRA. It’s set in canon and it’s about Nico having to relive the same day over and over because he’s been cursed by Aphrodite (u can guess what she wants him to do to break the curse lol).

Anything by Rosyredlipstick!! Particularly the star and the nothing (Nico tries to make a relationship with Will work as he struggles with trauma and alcoholism), Rental Love* (Nico hires Will as a fake boyfriend), and hands cupping sparklers (them getting together in canon while the entire Camp roots for them. It’s HILARIOUS). But really, every single one of their Solangelo AU fics. Some of them are set in canon and some are not, but all are amazing.

As If Hands Were Enough (To Hold An Avalanche Off) by theroyalsavage is also an amazing College AU.

if you need, come build your home in me by yrbeecharmer is a canon fic that follows Will growing up, from his first day at Camp to getting with Nico. It’s great and made me go all 🥰🥰 in my feels.

too much (yet never enough) by significant_what is a masterpiece. AU where Nico and Will meet in Catholic school. I get teary-eyed just thinking about it.

I’m halfway through Sanctuary by Tundras_And_Taigas and it’s pretty great!! Basically it’s set during ToA (but Nico and Will still aren’t a thing) and Will is forced to go live in Nico’s cabin.

and you can check out my fics if you want: Bad Sons (you kinda have to have finished ToA for this one tho) and Made your mark on me (a golden tattoo), but i’m a bit… weird when it comes to shipping. Bad Sons focuses more on Will as a character and his relationship with Apollo (tho plenty of solangelo fluff!!) and Made Your Mark On Me is about cheating, so i don’t know if they could be to your taste. I also don’t presume to think I write as well as the names I’ve given you but I try <33

I consider most of the fics I’ve recced pretty well known by fandom standards so I don’t know if I’ve helped you find anything new, but I hope I did!!

As for random pjo fics I like, I mostly like ToA ones so, lol

The Stolen God by @tsarinatorment is a great one, tho again I’d advice finishing the series to read it.

Also post-ToA, Build It Better Than The Sun by @seavoice is amazing

ToA fics by @flightfoot (Keyseeker on Ao3), particularly Memories of Godly Selfishness (Apollo and Meg are forced to watch some of Apollo’s memories and realizations are realized) and her long series God’s Eye View. I still haven’t had the chance to read the second one but every ToA fan I know has and what can I say, I trust my people.

@moodyseal has some too, my fave is A Spark Of Hope because it’s an obligatory read after TBM.

Aaand that’s all!! Unless you want Jasico recs, in which case we could be here another hour but I think I’ve overwhelmed you enough ahahah.