#it was relevant to a fic prompt she was talking about and I was as vague as I possibly could be!

[hockeynoses]

oh nooooo I told a tumblr friend about my fetish and it's crickets 😶

[queers-gambit]

Curiosity Killed The Cat

prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 5.1k+

note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.

warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.

Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.

You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.

Rooted.

But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.

You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.

This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.

You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?

Curiosity, indeed.

Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...

"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."

"And the jalapeños?"

"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."

"Cream cheese?"

"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."

Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."

"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"

"Lemme pick you up."

"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."

He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"

"Let's do a white tonight, please."

"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "

"Hang on," you pleaded.

"What's wrong?"

"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"

"We haven't been to Paris in months."

You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."

Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."

"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"

"So, is that a yes?"

"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"

"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"

"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."

"I'll bring the camera."

"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"

"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.

"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"

"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"

There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "

"It's 15," he growled.

"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."

"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "

"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."

"Don't hurt her - "

"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."

The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.

He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).

For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.

"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."

You sniffled, unable to respond.

He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"

You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."

The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."

"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."

"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."

You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.

At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.

"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.

"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"

You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.

Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.

And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.

You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.

Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.

Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.

So now... To hear this... You were devastated.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.

You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.

"She's different, man."

"How so?" Sam wondered.

"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "

"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.

"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."

"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.

"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."

"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."

"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"

Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"

"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."

"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."

"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.

"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."

"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."

"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"

There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.

So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."

"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"

You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.

"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.

"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"

"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."

"Peach - "

"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.

"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"

"Sure."

Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"

You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.

Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest. Got shopping done on Amazon. Browsed through Target's online selection. Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade. Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.

Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?

You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"

"Out with Nat," you eased.

He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"

"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."

His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."

"I know."

"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.

And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.

When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."

The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.

You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.

Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.

Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.

Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.

After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.

"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.

"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.

"What?"

"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"

"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."

"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"

"About...?"

"Me."

"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."

Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.

"Huh?" Nat wondered.

"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.

"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."

Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"

"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"

"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."

"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.

"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."

"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."

"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."

"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."

"They can take it."

"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"

"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.

"Bucky," she growled.

He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."

"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."

"Why lie, then?"

"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."

"No shit."

"Well, did you get into a fight?"

"No."

"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"

He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."

"You had to do something."

"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."

Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"

Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."

"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."

"I didn't mean - "

"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."

Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"

"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"

Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.

The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.

Clingy...

You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...

His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.

When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"

You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.

He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."

"I'm here."

"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.

"What's wrong?"

"You. You're what's wrong."

"What the fuck does that - "

"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."

You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.

"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "

"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."

"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."

You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "

"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."

You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."

"It's not."

"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."

He nodded, "What else can I do?"

"Nothing - "

"Peach."

You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"

"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.

"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"

"All right... Sure, okay..."

"And face masks."

He sighed, "Okay."

"And mani-pedis."

"Baby."

"You said you were making it up to me, right?"

He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."

"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."

"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."

"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."

"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."

You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.

Felt okay.

Appeared okay.

And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

[staybabblingbaby]

Best Friend Protocol #6 (Worm Part)

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: You're Felix's childhood friend, and you and he have been planning a visit to see him for his birthday for what feels like years now. Unfortunately, SKZ is a very busy group, and the week-long vacation you'd planned for doesn't seem possible. Until Felix decides to ask his bandmates a favor...

Announcement: Still taking interactions prompts/requests if u have 'em

Word Count: All images, so N/A. Unless someone wants to make these accessible but I don't really know how.

Notes: I had WAY too much fun with his one. I wrote it at 3am. I didn't bother to change the times on this one, so those time stamps are legit. It was a lot of stream-of-consciousness type stuff and it SHOWS lmao. It's all filler no plot, sorz. Relevant for next time is that this is set right before ATE dropped. I'm prolly gonna go back and retcon some stuff from the first chap to accommodate the setting lol.

Warnings: She/Her reader, talking about worm-related bisection, amputation, & death

Masterlist | Prev Part <3 | Next Part

Taglist: The wonderful, amazing, adorable @thatgirlangelb & @hyeon-yi

[florenceafternoon]

━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

Because I will never get tired of them, here are some more fic recs. These fics are set in the wizarding world but aren’t necessarily canon complaints.

For reference, anything in italics is an extract from the summaries on ao3.

Never Quite Awake by @sunshinemarauder 

“Endings are nothing unfamiliar to Lily Evans; she’s seen the ends of sisterhood, friendship, and innocence, all from miles away. But this is an end unlike any other. An end that was never supposed to happen.”

If to love someone once is to break their heart, to love them twice is to break yours.

Lily falls for James in her seventh year. But the couple are sent onto two diverging paths when a life-shattering altercation halts their burgeoning relationship. Five years later, she's a curse breaker and he is a soldier.

When they meet again, it feels like coming home.

All the angst that comes with a jily second chance romance that takes place during wartime. A fake dating subplot, cursebreaker!Lily, pining!James. What more could you want. France (country) - a relevant tag

Through The Rain by @bookeatingbean

James and Lily's first kiss, and the story behind it. There's some fluff, some character study, and some good old-fashioned angst.

If you're looking for a character study that shows how they grew up through their school years. This fic shows you that Lily was not a perfect person and James was a bully for the sake of it but he grew to understand that the world does not revolve around him and strives to do better. Or Lily is stubborn and James is the definition of a ride-or-die

It's been a long time by writtenbyfreckles (on ao3)

It's been ten years since Lily left Hogwarts. She's returned to England to work as a Healer on the "ward of the wacky", only to find home isn't as safe as she thought it was. An attack leaves her locked in a ward with her patients, a bunch of Death Eaters and an Auror she hasn't seen for a long time.

I need more cannon divergence Auror!James and Healer!Lily

The Guide To Becoming A Better Man For Lily Evans by @padfootswhiskers

prompt: I decided to walk outside shirtless (accidentally) but I forgot it's winter and why're you screaming at me like that? And oh gosh, you're very pretty.

lingering days, short-lived nights by letthebookbegin (on ao3)

The summer before seventh year, James is desperately trying to think of anything but Lily, who's burrowed her way into his mind and looks quite comfortable there.

The summer before seventh year, Lily is craving a distraction. Avoiding her sister, she picks an ice cream shop for shelter.

At the end of a long summer day, their paths cross - and the rest, as they say, is history.

Ties That Bind by @charmsandtealeaves

Lily Evans grew up with old wives tales about soul mates, but she'd never put much stock in the idea. Not until after she learned about the world of magic and the fact that soul bonds were a thing that actually existed. Which makes these strange new feelings and experiences that much more difficult to manage.

So I read this a while ago but stupidly forgot to bookmark it and then I spent nearly an hour trying to find it again. Needless to say, I ADORE this fic and you should all go read it. Like, right now. Then come back here to talk to me about it.

Lily Evans Doesn't Believe In I Love You's also by @/ charmsandtealeaves

“Did you hear Lily Evans doesn’t believe in I love you's?”

It wasn’t exactly a secret. But no one knew why, until she decided to share a bottle of fire whiskey in the astronomy tower with James Potter.

Same Lily, same

Meet Me At The River also by @/ charmsandtealeaves

A chance encounter with a misplaced owl leads to a correspondence between pen pals. Lily confides in her mysterious Flea and finds herself falling along the way.

I can't remember if I've recommended this one already, but even if I have I'll rec it again because I love it so much!!

Your Friend, James by @thelighthousestale

It is the summer before their 7th year, and Lily and James spend the entire holiday writing letters to each other as their relationship slowly changes from friends to something more.

Just the ending of this one is everything. James and Sirius are never beating the codependent allegations

Castling by @missgryffin

When they were still very young, Remus Lupin’s dad married Lily Evans’ mum. It changes everything.

Lily and Remus are like the little brother who got bullied and then found friends except he invited them over for the first time and they all act weird because they're mildly terrified of his older sister. Friends to lovers jily is only rivaled by academic rivals jily.

Just the Two of Us by @arianatwycross

Head Students James and Lily face a perilous twist when a malicious potion surfaces in hate mail directed at Lily. Dumbledore orders a week-long quarantine in the Head Students' suite. With unspoken crushes lingering, the duo navigates close quarters, leading to unexpected revelations, lingering looks and forehead kisses.

silence and patience, pining in anticipation by @kay-elle-cee

Lily’s been hung up on James for years; a tipsy conversation might be the push she needs to do something about it.

DRESS IS A JILY SONG FOREVER AND ALWAYS

The Devil in the Cloak Room by @chiechie97

Getting your heart broken when you’re 17 seems to alter your brain chemistry more than you would think. Which is the precise reason why Lily has no intention of reconnecting with the friends she lost at the end of school.

And besides, she has no chance of knowing anyone at the masked Halloween party her friend drags her to. Especially not the guy in the devil mask. Right?

Usually I rec complete works but this one is so good I had to include it

Deception and other ways to find love by @annasghosts

“I’ll be your fake girlfriend, Potter.” And this is how Lily Evans embarks on the adventure of (fake) dating her former Hogwarts nemesis (and crush, but ssssh, it’s a secret). Will she be able to keep her cool? Will he?

Class of '78 by @emeralddoeadeer

Class of 1978 Five Year Reunion - July 29th, 1983

Now is the time to look upon our shared experience, our similarities must unite us rather than letting our differences divide us. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry invites the Graduating Class of 1978 to return to the castle for a weekend of reconnecting, reminiscing and recreation. We hope the passage of time has been kind to you all and look forward to welcoming you soon.

Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster, Order of Merlin First Class, Grand Sorc, DWiz, X.J sorc, S of Mag Q

It's been five years since graduation, and while many things have changed, some things never will.

James Potter Won't Go Quietly by la_plus_heureuse (on ao3)

Lily Evans remembers plenty about James Potter from Hogwarts. But an assignment from Mojo Magazine to profile the Quidditch star turned activist makes her realize what she remembered was all wrong.

canon divergence staring quidditch player James and journalist Lily

On A Scale of One to Ten (requires an ao3 account) by @petalsinwoodvale

Lily starts falling for an insecure, yet charming auror named James who is recovering from injury in her ward. No one else on staff will sit and talk to him, mostly due to septic skin covering most of his upper torso. Lily, however, finds him charming and funny. Naturally, when James' injuries start healing, he grows more and more handsome. The other healers suddenly take interest in James, romantically ...

foxy by lizpaige (on ao3)

Lily joins the boys at the shrieking shack on a particularly difficult moon in her new animagus form.

Lily & Remus friendship is so special to me

[widebrimmedhatsblog]

Pleaaaaaase give me and all of us ALL the lore I would love it 🥹

Yay!!! Let me try and go in order of events?

Actual essay below the cut

Lilith! So, in this universe, there is obviously no deal with Xaden to keep Vi "safe" in the rider's quadrant, but Lilith sends her anyway because she still thinks Vi will be safer in the quadrant than in the scribes, venin-wise. Because of this (in the quadrant with no Xaden) a few things happen! Vi's generally MORE aware of the venin adjacent issues, she's less confident with her lightning, and when it becomes clear to Lilith that Col. Aetos is after Violet, she knows she has to figure something new out.

The storm! The storm is Lilith's doing. @k2jk and I chatted about this briefly, and they summed it up pretty well in that Lilith starts the storm to try and delay Vi from reaching Athebyne entirely, but when that fails, she adapts and overcomes (if you will) and decides to use the storm to keep Vi in the cave with Xaden. Obviously, she doesn't have the deal in this universe, but she knows Xaden, at the very least, cares about the venin problem, as she suspects Vi will too. Also, Vi had THREE dragons, so she was fine, battle-wise. I think in canon Lilith is out of town (LOL) when war games happen, but in this specific universe where (again) Vi doesn't have X looking out for her, I think Lilith would be a lot more hands-on (in her very Lilith way). Also, Lilith clearly has a thing with like, storms at times other people would not want a storm. Seems her love language is just ruining people's day!

Xaddy! So Em and I (@maethologies) captured the Xaden lore in this as instead of being a child of divorce as he is in canon, he is instead a child of PLEASE get a divorce!! I don't know what the math is precisely, but canonically, Fen Riorson had to have been pretty young when he had Xaden, because Sgaeyl is AROUND fifty, I believe. This led me to conclude that his mom would be pretty young too? So there's that part of things, and then add in the fact that their marriage/betrothal/sex pact was contractual and not out of love, and that Fen HAD to be a pretty hard core guy in regards to his commitment to the revolution, and I think we have a nice recipe for some issues! Amy @skyfallscotland's original prompt was that either the Tyrrish Rebellion never happened, or it happened differently, and I decided to take the happened differently route of things. And when considering how things could have happened differently, my first thought for a variable we actually know about was Xaden's mom. So, I made her Poromish (which I think she is, I just think she's hiding in the Isles in canon). Basically, the idea there is that she left when he was ten, but she did come back, and she was pretty in and out of his life. She's not queen, because his parents aren't married (afaik) but she's...around? sometimes? But, her presence in Tyrrendor was able to get Poromiel to throw some extra troops/weapons/money/ whatever who knows at the Rebellion, which helped the Rebellion win. Another thing Em and I talk about that is relevant to this fic is that we both see Fen/unnamed woman who is Xaden's mom as a mirror of xaden/cat, or what xaden/cat would have become, sans Vi. To ME, this means they were pretty toxic, fought a lot in front of Xaden, general manipulation what have you. If we ever get Xaden's mother's first name I will probably succumb to my demons and write a full prequel fic, but that day is not today!

Xaddy part 2! I said this elsewhere, but Xaden's gryphon gift is basically his second signet! That's how he cheats at rock paper scissors (what a guy!!) and that's how he repeatedly reads her mind throughout the fic. Vi doesn't seem to know about gryphon fliers having mind work gifts in canon until X tells her, so I assumed she wouldn't know. Also, like, of course he bonds Sgaeyl eventually. Of course. Not to @ Amy twice in one post, but I think of it as VERY similar to Keep Quiet in that it's like, we know this guy. We know his destiny. We Know. So yes, he bonds Sgaeyl EVENTUALLY, but not on page. I have an idea, actually, but I don't want anyone else asking me to write a continuation of this AU, so I don't want to say it publicly just yet, LOL.

I think that 's it for now? If there's anything else lore-wise anyone else was wondering about, feel free to ask!!

[spaceofentropy]

It was supposed to be a quick thing, when I started writing it. Instead, my fic for the Harringrove Corner Pride Event grew and grew until it became the 38k-word story it is now.

My prompt was "Find me in the future" and what I offer you today is a story about time travel, paradoxes, pining, the fear of screwing up, and also monsters, titled

Time travel is real

On ao3

Rated E for blood, not sexy times

Pairing: Harringrove (but the last chapter is all Munver because I am a self-indulgent fool!)

Relevant tags: Time Travel AU; Canon Divergence; Neil Hargrove is His Own Warning; Implied/Referenced Child Abuse; Blood and Injury; Homophobia; Internalized Homophobia; Protective Parent Jim "Chief" Hopper; Robin Buckley is a good friend; Fix-it fic (if by fix-it you mean I fuck things up even more and the body count is higher); Whump; Pride Parades; references to HIV/AIDS Crisis; Billy Hargrove tries to be a decent brother (results may vary); Karen Wheeler and the married ladies of Hawkins being creeps

Summary: It's the summer of 1981 and one of Billy's friend bets that Billy won't have the guts to go and spend five minutes talking with the naked weirdo that's hiding under the pier.
Billy's 14 and he has no idea of what consequences accepting that bet will have.

It starts like this:

"There's a weirdo under the pier."

From where he's propped against the wooden parapet, Billy stops letting his gaze float over the people walking by them on the pier and turns to look at Stab. The rest of their group does the same, all keeping their eyes politely away from Stab's busted lip and swollen cheek even as they look at him.

"As if the whole beachfront isn't full of weirdos every day," Jimmy Z. says in a dismissive huff.

Pudge and Lily nod, and she's already back to drawing little black toothy monsters on the green fabric of her shoes. There's a hole in the sole of her right shoe. She said her mom's waiting for her next weekly pay check to buy her a new pair. They've been waiting for the right pay check for two month.

Billy looks away and stomps down the jealous resentment over the fact that at least her mom seems to be the kind of parent that will never stop trying. Unlike his, or some of the parents of the others in their group.

"A different kind of weirdo," he hears Stab insist.

Billy does his best not to snicker when Jimmy F. eyes Stab with all the skepticism a five-foot-nothing kid can muster. Which is a lot, if your name is Jimmy Fernandez.

"Define different," Jimmy F. says.

"I think this one ran from an asylum or something like that."

"Like Roaming Maggie," Jimmy F. is quick to supply.

"No, different! This one doesn't have shit."

"So, like the poncho guy."

"No. He's naked."

"So, like Perv Guy last summer," Lily intervenes without even looking up, and Jimmy F. nods.

"No-ooooh!" Stab is getting closer to the end of his patience. "This one is not approaching anyone."

"Ok, so, like the high lady with the tattoos and the−"

"No, he's not talking to the sirens−"

"Kraken," Pudge says while exhaling a plume of smoke. "The lady with the orange bush said her talking to the kraken was what kept it from eating the pier."

Billy pulls a cig from his own pack as he tunes the diatribe out. There's a good chance they're gonna go on for hours. They've done it before. It's the first weekend of summer break and they still have fuck all to do: inane chatter is perfect for them to waste time but not money.

He likes when it's like this. When they can just sit around, or swim, or talk about shit that doesn't really matter. He likes when they can forget life is shit, parents are a mess, school's a drag, and the future is on fire. Nothing better than to let his friends' words wash over him and make the world seem a little less fucked.

He has just finished his cigarette, making sure to smoke every last bit of it, when he registers what Stab's saying:

"I bet Billy wouldn't."

"I wouldn't what?"

"Find the balls to go and talk to the weirdo under the pier."

[usmsgutterson]

I think I might have fallen in love- realization fics! Fics with this prompt can be the realization of anything--a characters imminent death, the moment wherein someone realizes they've been betrayed, or they can be super fluffy and detail the moment a character realizes they're in love, the moment where they realize they can see a future with the reader--perhaps one that entails settling down or one that involves leaving the past behind--, the moment where they realize that they want to marry them! Anything goes with this prompt, and I'll write 1-5k words using it!

OKAY- what about nikolai x reader. and it's where he realizes he wants to marry her. maybe r thinks of a solution to some matter of state and he watches in awe how she handles the questions and gets the other's attention. and he's just like "yep. i'm gonna make her my bride" or something like that :)

Motion- N.L x fem! reader

okay, hi! This came out a bit later than I meant for it to--I decided a few weeks ago to plan out a duology to try to complete during NaNoWriMo and that took up a lot of my headspace, where trying to make sure my mental health was on track and I was breathing in something other than stale apartment air took up the rest of it. However, I am so sorry for how late this is coming out regardless!

On another note, my requests close next friday! They close at 11:30 pm AST (which is around 7:30 PST) and hopefully, what remains of my requests will be done by that point. Fall event requests are open until the second and my holiday event will come out sometime between the 24th of November and the 1st of December.

Fic type- fluff

Warnings- none

You and Nikolai were sitting in a meeting, debating with the Grisha triumvirate and several other relevant court members who sat in on Ravkas ever growing list of issues. You'd thrummed your way from matters of inter-palace discontent through matters of civilian discontent and you were up to matters of state.

Nikolai was getting bored watching everyone bicker, each of them trying to stop one another from getting a word in, but you looked as though you'd just gotten started. Nikolai could've sworn you were smirking slightly as you watched Zoya snap at a general, ready to throw a gust of wind at him--one so powerful that it knocked him through the meeting room wall--and barely managing to restrain herself. You looked as though, despite the fact that you weren't Grisha, you were ready to do the same thing.

Genya looked ready to tailor someone into a very ugly version of themself and David simply looked as though he wanted to go back to his work, like he was mad at the fact of his obligations as a member of the triumvirate for pulling him away from it.

"And before you start, Novikov," you started. Nikolai turned his attention to you, smile on his face. "Let me talk my way through this, yeah? You start talking and you might find yourself unable to fill your britches because you simply don't know enough. It's not a matter of the people--it's a matter of the funds we're able to allocate to the cities. If we can allocate enough to cities both big and small then we're setting ourselves up for an economic boom that starts at the big cities, moves to the small ones. It moves to the towns, and from the towns it moves back to us."

"How do you expect Ravka of all places to be able to do such a thing?" Novikov asks, bushy eyebrows furrowed at your suggestion.

"We can get tourists in," you said. "Ravka is broke--that is absolutely not a surprise to anyone in this room. However, to appeal to those who can only afford to take one vacation a year we advertise the cities. The ones with good-quality but still cheap hotels, honest working parents and saintstales as old as the country itself."

"And what of the rich folks?" David asked. "I mean--we can't advertise Ravka for tourism without aiming somewhere that will actually make a difference one trip on, can we?"

"Palace tours," you said. "The Grand Palace--we can make it a tourist spot Friday through Monday, twelve hours, with options for individual touring, group touring, or guided versions of the same. I'll be a bloody guide if I need to, but I know that there are people somewhere who are passionate about Ravkas history to be willing to volunteer their time."

'And how long is this going to take to pay off our debts?" Novikov asked. "I mean--nobody will go for it if it takes us longer than a decade."

"If it takes us longer than a decade, the youngest of us in the room have a chance at seeing it in the last year or two before we hit forty," Genya said. "Nikolai is twenty-four at the current, which means it would take sixteen years if it were to be such a strenuous plan."

"It's not," You said. "Tours of the palace will take two hours going at a slow pace if my walks of the Grand Palace are to have proved anything. If we get six volunteers, then that's one to cover every tour everyday. Ticket prices can be set at 20 coin for a general admission, 10 for children and fifteen for seniors. Max the group allowance at groups of ten and that ranges from 100-200 coin just off the gate. Take that and multiply it by six, and we have 600-1200 coin going back into the coffers of those to whom Ravka is indebted. It'll be volunteer based because the saints know we cannot afford to pay the guides but I would do a twelve hour workday just to prove that my idea is the right move."

"And what benefits could we offer in place of wages?"

"A hot meal when shifts are done, a room at the Little Palace and food by an irrefutable line of direction. We could also put them on palace staffing lists officially so they'd at least be making the minimum wage, but I think that such would constitute as fraudulent somewhere."

Nikolai was deep in thought when you brought up that last point, but with one squeeze from your hand he was back to reality.

"If they would be willing to take a room in the Little Palace for the duration of time during which tours take place, then it wouldn't violate any laws--they'd be working within the palaces, allowing their placement onto the palace staff."

"What is your estimate on how long it would take?" Novikov asked. "On how long the combination of marketing the cities and the palace tours would take to pay off our debts and refill the war treasury?"

Nikolai had been looking at you how he always did--like you were the love of his life. As he watched you answer what both of you had hoped tto be Novikovs last question, he came to a realization.

"A minimum of five years," you said. "And that is with the tours going all year round. If we could have the tours going daily it would probably still be the same such estimate--we're more than one million kruge in debt with Kerch, double that with Novyi Zem, Novikov. The process for clearing Ravka of it's debts is not something that will be instantaneous unless you're willing to sell your home and give the funds to the cause? According to reports I've seen, your home could have us reasonably jumped forward if you sell it for it's maximum monetary value?"

Nikolai could see it right in front of him--two years from then, a ceremony. Watching you walk down the isle, a coronation where you were crowned as queen. A life as your husband, a life with you as his wife.

He glanced at the ring finger on his left hand--it was looking awfully bare, but if you said yes when Nikolai proposed, which he decided he would do right then, it would not look bare for the rest of his life.

"All in favor?" Nikolai asks, giving your hand a squeeze as the thought solidifies itself fully in his mind.

I am going to make her my bride.

Everyone, including a rather embarrassed Novikov, said "I" and you grinned victoriously.

Your plan was barely in motion, but it was starting to gain traction still. As Nikolai pressed a kiss to your cheekbone and the two of you moved to leave the meeting room, the same could be said of his.

[evanbuckleyrecs]

Buddie AUs under 20k part 2

Part 2 to the earlier rec list!

Over the waves (under your spell) by my_hopless_opus

14,9K, rated E

What if in season 6, Bobby and Athena don't cancel their honeymoon trip, but decide to give away their tickets to another couple? Hen & Karen are busy and Chimney & Maddie are still figuring out their stuff, that leaves only Buck and Eddie.

The only condition is that they have to pretend to be a couple during the whole trip.

How hard can that be?

OR

Buddie fake dating fic

(Spoilers: There's only one bed)

Spousal secrets and celebrity crushes by AshwinMeird

9,3K, rated G

Eddie joined the 118 and Hen learned plenty about his husband and son through endless stories, but she knew almost nothing about Buck. Then a movie being filmed not far from the station starts to become very relevant to her life.

Or

Five times Hen was confused about Eddie's husband and One time it all made sense.

You smiled and it was the most beautiful thing that I'd ever seen by wafflesofdoom

13,5K, rated G

Eddie had always loved coffee. From the moment his parents had deemed him old enough to drink it, he’d loved coffee – he loved the smell, the taste, and most of all, he loved the process of making it. So, it was inevitable that'd he'd end up in Los Angeles, and take over Diaz's Café from his grandmother.

He just never imagined he'd meet the love of his life while doing it.

or, a 911-style ode to the classic coffee shop au trope.

He never thinks about me (except when I'm on tv) by heartbeatdiaz

18,1K, rated M

"I have been in love, yes." He says after the most torturous of seconds.

"Would you mind expanding on that?"

Buck hesitates for a few seconds and then Eddie sees the exact moment he decides 'fuck it' as he straightens in his seat.

"There was this guy in high school. He was my best friend."

Wait.

Hold on.

Eddie freezes.

Is Buck— Is Buck talking about him?

or:

In which Eddie finds out years later that his unrequited feelings for his high school best friend were not actually unrequited, Buck is stupidly famous now and they pine.

They get there in the end, they just need to get their timing right.

Inspired by the prompt: “you’re famous and just got asked if you were ever in love this should be good– WAIT WHAT."

All that's left to find (is peace of mind) by agustmoons

8,3K, not rated

A still warm kernel thumps lightly against Buck’s temple and it’s his last straw. “What the fuck is your problem, Han?” He demands, rounding on the paramedic currently tucked away in an armchair, popcorn bowl balanced precariously on his chest and knees.

“Your dumb, grumpy face. What’s got you all wound up, anyways? You look like someone took a shit in your cereal this morning.” Chim says, waving a hand in his direction.

___________

Eddie's deployed and Buck is /handling it/. He's not freaking out, definitely not.

Well, he wasn't. Until his contact with Eddie is cut off and he's left alone, wondering what could have happened.

Taking smoke with my coffee by UisceOneLove

3,9K, Rated G

"Order for Firefighter Diaz!"

Eddie knows that coffee runs have typically been deemed a Probie task. He did plenty of them when Bobby first recruited him to the 118. So, tradition dictates that it's supposed ot be Ravi getting them.

But Eddie gets to have a lot of nice things for himself. The things that make even his worst call days just a smidge better.

If anyone (Hen) is interrogating him for details, it's definitely the coffee he's referring to.

"I'm not in my gear, Buck," Eddie tells the barista when he approaches the counter.

The smile he looks forward to is waiting for him courtesy of the barista that makes even Eddie have to tip his head back a little bit to make eye contact. "Yeah," Buck drawls as he pushes the tray of coffee towards him, "but you're still on duty."

Mr. Buckley's after hours detention by aresaphrodites

11,4K, rated M

It’s not like Eddie Diaz planned on this. Really, there was no scenario in his mind where he would ever be bringing his son’s teacher a freaking goody basket to class; a homemade goody basket, no less. Then again, Christopher has never had a teacher quite like Evan Buckley.

Lucky streak by 2manyboys

8,6k, rated E

A massive tsunami hits the Santa Monica Pier; Eddie has an instant connection with a firefighter from another station.

[juanabaloo]

Plot hole that bothers me: where was Faith in "Helpless"?

Oooh this is such a good one, thank you for asking it. Pretty sure others have talked about this before, here's my attempt:

This is post Amends but pre Bad Girls, so the Faith and Buffy friendship is going pretty good at this point. (Literally we've only had 5 Faith episodes by Helpless, and that's how quickly she and Buffy get to a good place.)

In Helpless Faith is purposefully sent away so she would not interfere with Buffy's birthday Test by Giles. (cruciamentum is an annoyingly long word) I don't think the Watcher's Council thinks much about Faith, if they do at all...

[related - this ask answered by coraniaid is great and includes Post taking Faith out of town for the test at Giles' request. also it gets into how hands off/disorganized The Council is.]

Anyways, Giles has heard Buffy talking about Faith and knows they patrol together. He also knows Faith spent Christmas Eve with Buffy and (mostly) Joyce. So he knows Faith would definitely not stand by while Buffy gets tested. So he sends her out on a silly mission, like gathering a weapon from LA or something like that. He does not tell her that the Test is coming up for Buffy.

More under the cut bc this got really long!

Giles wrongly assumes that Faith is aware that on her 18th birthday a Slayer gets this Test. This is because he wrongly assumes Faith has already been through this herself, bc she is already over 18. In my HC Faith IS over 18 she only seems younger sometimes bc she's emotionally immature. In my HC she is over 18 but she has not had the Test and has never even heard about it.

[if you HATE the idea of Faith being older than 18 by Helpless, then Giles thinks she is over 18 bc he snooped one day while she and Buffy were sparring in the library and he found her wallet and saw her fake ID**. This leads him to believe she is in fact 19 or 20 or 21. So in this slightly divergent timeline Faith is only 17 but she still won't ever have the Test bc she doesn't have a proper Watcher / they don't really care enough about Faith to give her the Test.]

[** MORE FAKE ID thoughts: It honestly makes the most sense that her fake ID would say she's 21 so she can buy liquor bc that's what *ahem* most people did back then. BUT also Faith would not have much trouble getting guys to buy her liquor so maybe she only needs her fake ID to prove she's over 18 so she can get a bank account. BUT it seems weird that she's THAT responsible and she's not just shoving her cash under her mattress...

FAKE ID CONTINUED: Other interesting theories for a fake ID to prove she's over 18 that aren't about liquor or opening a bank account: change her birth name (non cis Faith? she already changed her name TO Faith?? maybe she has her Mom's name and she hates her Mom so she changed it on the fake ID? all valid), get piercings/tattoo (although in the 90s it was very common for under 18s to have these), get a job (only believable if she wasn't already a Slayer), buy a car (maybe an aspirational goal), go parachuting (another goal?). ANYWAYS enough thoughts about fake ID Faith this is turning into a fic prompt with like 10 options...)

MORE AGE THOUGHTS: Sorry one more thing. It seems unlikely that Fatih would be sentenced (for murder 2) to 25 years to life in prison - not jail but prison - for murder without legally being 18. Well just researched that and sadly this isn't true. I thought maybe her going to prison was a point in favor of her being at least 18 by ATS 1x19 Sanctuary but perhaps not. It's unclear. There's a 2000 California Prop 21 that seems relevant, which passed in March 2000 and Sanctuary aired in May 2000. And ofc the carceral system sucks and makes mistakes and Faith might have lied about her age.]

Where were we? Giles thinks that Faith already passed her own Test and knows that Buffy will get one when she (Buffy) turns 18. This leads to some trickery by Giles, bc he wants to hide when Buffy's birthday is from Faith. He shares a fake birthday for Buffy with Faith in a very awkward conversation while they wait for the Scoobies to assemble one day in the library. (Repeating the I Robot You Jane continuity error from S1.)

Faith thinks it's weird bc it seems like Giles is telling her to buy Buffy a birthday gift - which is already weird in itself - - and bonus leads her to wondering if Buffy is telling Giles what gifts she wants Faith to buy her, like a girl might with her Dad Watcher about a boyfriend -- and it's even weirder bc Buffy's birthday is months away. Thankfully the Scoobies arrive, and Giles stops talking about it. But the lingering "queer vibes boyfriend gift buying vibes" nugget has now been planted in Faith's already pretty-gay-for-Buffy mind.

And since i HC Faith as over 18 by Helpless, Faith should have gotten her own Test back in Boston but Diana (her Watcher) did not administer it. Diana had plans to, or plans to somehow avoid giving it / giving Faith a cheat, but then Kakistos came and she became pre-occupied with surviving him. (She sadly did not, as we know.) (Bonus points for the very sad HC of Faith turning 18 on the same day that Diana dies. OR she could turn 18 on a bus by herself during her cross country trip to Sunnydale. Give that girl more angst!!)

Diana never told Faith about the Test so Faith doesn't have any idea Buffy is in danger, even when she learns that Buffy has her 18th birthday coming up. And how does she learn this, despite Giles's attempt to hide it?

When Willow mentions something about Buffy's birthday coming up! Faith is confused bc of the prev Giles birthday talk. Once Xander mentions something as well Faith knows that Giles was lying to her. (This adds to her mistrust of Giles / The Council, not that she needs it.)

Faith resigns herself to the idea that Buffy doesn't want her around for her birthday party, and that is why Giles came up with his awkward birthday talk / lie. (This also reinforces the idea that Giles is very close to Buffy, since he's telling birthday lies for Buffy.) Faith then leans headfirst into her Slayer duties leading up to the week of Helpless, bringing it up to Buffy multiple times so Buffy knows Faith isn't totally wounded annoyed about missing Buffy's birthday.

(I'm not sure how Faith gets to LA for the Giles-weapon-mission. If she drives herself it makes her ATS 1x18 Five by Five bus arrival kinda "look how far she has fallen." If she takes the bus it makes her ATS 1x18 Five by Five bus arrival kinda "oh she knew what to expect at the bus depot bc she'd been here before.")

In LA Faith learns some local stuff (what neighborhoods are dicey, where the fun clubs are) and does indeed find the weapon Giles has sent her to get. She returns after Helpless and is surprised when no one talks much about Buffy's birthday party. When she tries to chat with Buffy about it in a fun casual way - it's clear Buffy doesn't want to discuss it.

And what weapon does Faith bring back to Sunnydale? It's the sword she uses in The Zeppo's first scene! It turns out not to be as important as Giles predicted, but that fits with this plot hole filler.

Faith doesn't find out about Giles drugging her for the Test, bc Buffy is repressing it and no one else ever talks about it again. (I don't agree with the writers' decision about this really terrible thing Giles does, but this filler needs to match on both ends.) This also matches bc if Faith ever did find out about it she would be incensed to the point of shouting and at least shoving Giles, if not more. She def would not shut up about it to Buffy, even if Buffy asks her to not bring it up again. ("How can you trust him B? After what he did to you??")

Anyways, i hope you enjoyed this! It was a lot of fun. Thanks so much for the ask!

[mossiestpiglet]

Since I’m probably never gonna actually write them, I’m sharing my cotrk fic ideas so everyone can stew in the concepts with me:

Rise and fall of the Bloor family as shown from the perspective of their dining table - each chapter is a meal a few years/months apart, separated by big events in the Bloor family. Looking at how just deeply unpleasant it is to be a Bloor, that all the “family” stuff is sort of just set dressing for the reality of their situation. Haunting and creepy and weird, unhappy ending. Would follow canon events/timeline as close as possible and sort of just fill in the blanks.

Post-canon, Manfred and Asa reconnect and figure out their relationship - Manfred survives and leaves the city to try and figure out what his life is going to be now that the whole Bloor family scheme has fallen through. He bounces around for a couple years and then is finally working at (insert stereotypical job here) when he runs into Asa and finds out he has landed in the same town that Asa has been living in since getting away. There’s some “are you here to kill me” on both sides, they barely start talking stuff out before deciding Absolutely Not, and Manfred sort of hopes Asa will just leave him alone forever, but Asa recognizes the change in their positions and so won’t let Manfred go. Asa has found himself a new group of endowed friends (who actually like him! for the first time in his life!) and this group has a totally different view of him than being Manfred’s Dog, so things get a bit weird when Asa drags Manfred into this group. There is a lot of tension and the group doesn’t really get Manfred, or why Asa is so attached to such a weird asshole, but one day they are all out and Asa is getting pissed at some stranger and his new friends are all nervous and uncomfortable with his aggression and then Manfred is able to recall him instantly. And the group is like oooooohhhhhh that’s it. They had only known Asa as a Man and a Beast, but now they see that (for the right person), there is also a Dog. This incident prompts Manfred and Asa to dig a little more into what happened between them and how they are going to go on.

Post-canon, Naren and Harold meet - Naren decides she wants to meet the rest of her family and make up her mind about them herself (not just listening to what Bartholomew says). Since Harold has left the city and she has no idea how to find him, she asks Charlie for help, and he asks Lyell. In my BarleyAU “canon”, Lyell tells Charlie to go to Barley, and Barley facilitates the meeting, but I also like it without Barley as a chance to also explore the dynamic between Harold and Lyell and choices made in order to move forward. Harold and Naren end up having an odd sort of relationship, not least because they are siblings that are 35+ years apart in age, but the outlook is optimistic because 1) Naren is just Like That and 2) Harold is more generally unpleasant than actively harmful nowadays. (Manfred is alive, he’s just not involved in this because I hc that he and Harold aren’t on good terms post-canon for quite a while, and really only ever reconnect if someone else brings them back together, such as Barley, Lyell, or Naren)

BarleyAU, Barley and Billy bonding (alliteration yay!) - Barley and Billy’s relationship is like actually quite relevant to my BarleyAU plot because Barley gets so protective of Billy so quickly, but there is also just lots of fun side scenes of them bonding over their love of animals that wouldn’t make the cut if I did ever write a whole BarleyAU. This would be fun and funny and very much for the animal nerds, with also some undertones of found family as that is the trajectory of Barley and Billy’s dynamic.

Post-canon, Emma as an older teen with PTSD, trying to figure out how to go forward - Set when they are in their final year at Bloor’s and Emma has been having a rough time as the years go on. She has a lot of guilt and shame over feeling like she is disappointing everyone around her by not moving on, or being upset, and generally feels like there is no one who can understand what she went through, and her distress affects her endowment in painful and embarrassing ways. She starts to fixate on the idea of closure, thinking that the reason she can’t just “stop having problems” is because Manfred (and Harold but mainly Manfred) left the city when she was 12, and she never got to actually confront him about it. Everyone is super against her seeking him out, but Lyell feels bad enough about not having helped her when he was the person who had the most in common with her situation to give in and help her find Manfred, and also to try and protect her as much as he can (again). There’s lots of ways that talking with Manfred could go, but what I’m most interested in exploring is Manfred having also been a kid at the time and how Lyell and Emma feel about that, putting Lyell in a situation where he has to start processing things himself and can’t just act like it’s all wrapped up, and Emma realizing that there really aren’t any answers to be found in Manfred, she has to find it in herself and the people who care about her.

1902AU - Setting the whole series just a century earlier and exploring how that setting affects the dynamics. Plot would follow the canon without too many huge differences probably, it would mainly just be focused on how characterization and setting interact.

[hijinks-n-lowjinks]

please please please talk abt the vampire au 🤲🤲🤲🤲 im chewing my computer in anticipation

hi rin!!!!!!! i'd love to talk about my vamp au lol, it's been brewing for soooooo long i need to get some thoughts out. I have a few different asks asking about this prompt, so i'm gonna space out the plot/worldbuilding/character aspects a little bit <3

I'm gonna start with the lore/worldbuilding here.

The whole plot revolves in a sort of seraph of the end-esque world where vampires have become the dominant class and the world is very apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic.

Megumi is the perspective throughout the entire fic. There's a lot of focus on his trauma and how growing up in a world like this has shaped his mentality and refusal to allow himself to care for/be cared for by others. The only person he's entirely devoted to is Tsumiki. She is his sole purpose in life, the only reason he's struggling to keep himself alive.

Megumi is what's called a poacher; someone who basically acts as a bounty hunter and delivers people to whatever vampire he's made a contract with for feeding. He poaches his own kind for his own gain ("his own gain" being that he and his sister aren't targeted by vampires themselves and have immunity from covens) and is essentially ostracized from what little piece of humanity is still free. Due to their profession, poachers live almost completely isolated from both humans and vampires.

A "blood bag" is a derogatory term used by vampires for humans that are kept and fed on as regular meals. I won't get into specifics here, but this is very relevant term and role later in the story.

Hunters are regular vampire hunters. Many work together in small teams or solo (such as Hakari/Kirara working as a pair, while Yuki and Higuruma prefer working solo), but there are rumors of a larger organized group far off in Hokkaido but covens are quick to put this rumor to bed.

Mahito's coven is the one that deals with Megumi the most. They're the strongest in the area, and thus have many high profile vampires that want specific types of prey. That's where Megumi comes in.

[kc5rings]

If you're doing the sticker prompts I rolled 1 for Nian

I more intended it as a game for folks who want a prompt for themselves for art or fic, but luck is on your side because I happened to be thinking about Nian already this morning after seeing some metal gear that made me insane

(Not taking any other prompts at the moment but the game is here if anyone wants to use it for themselves)

Under the cut: Chastity, heat reference, improper use of medical equipment, improper definitions of medical equipment, Nian Gets Trolled.png

“I should have figured when Hibiscus messaged me to come drag you out of medical that it would be something ridiculous like this.”

Nian crossed her arms, grinning and unrepentant, as ever immune to Lava’s scathing reprimands.

“All I’m saying, is you’d think an open minded medical facility like Rhodes Island would be a little more receptive to a holistic, non medication approach to a very common medical concern for many of its op-“

Lava cut into Nian’s speech before she wound herself up into full pitch mode, leaning heavily on her cane with one hand while gesturing vaguely at what Nian was wearing.

“Is that what we’re calling….. all this then?”

Far from being deterred Nian’s grin only widened as she did a little turn to make sure Lava got a good look, which she happily did, taking a moment to appreciate forge hewn muscle before sighing and taking in Nian’s “outfit”

Her regular clothing had been discarded the moment Lava had shut the door to her quarters, Nian having been in a hurry to show off her latest project. Across her chest was a tight band of steel, with a cup covering the entirety of each breast. Continuing down from there revealed a steel waist corset cinched reasonably tight, though Lava couldn’t begin to imagine how that was accomplished with metal.

Finally, there was the belt.

Just a bit below the edge of the corset sat the waist band of what could only be described as what it was, a chastity belt. Perfectly shaped to fit the lines of Nian’s body, with a ring in the waistband to settle at the thick base of Nian’s tail, a sturdy, contoured, front shield and capped off by a pair of wide metal bands on her thighs. As with the rest of the ensemble it was all secured with ornate locks and polished to a near mirror shine.

Lava pinched the bridge of her nose

“Nian, this is obviously fetishwe-“

“Medical aids, Lil Lava, please”

“Not calling it that.”

Despite her curt tone Lava knew this was a losing battle, once Nian had a concept she wanted to talk about she refused to let it go until someone heard her out and that someone was usually Lava

“Fine. I’ll bite.”

“Promise?”

“Just make your pitch Nian. How is any of this possibly medical?”

Lava could swear she saw a literal flame in Nian’s eye for a moment before Nian gave her an overly dramatic bow, setting the many locks adorning her accessories jingling

“It’d be my pleasure. Ya see I’ve done my research and found that a sizable number of Terran species experience heat, now heat is the common term for-“

“I know what heat is Nian, you know I do.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll skip ahead.”

Nian made a placating gesture and rolled on with her pitch, pointing to each relevant piece of gear as she went

“The cups on the top prevent contact with sensitive nipples even during rigorous activity or while laden with equipment, the front shield prevents contact that might worsen symptoms and splits at the back for comfort, the bands on the thighs and tail help keep everything in place and secure. Obviously it’s all padded, every measure had been taken to ensure both comfort and hygiene during long term wear while-“

“And the corset? What “medical” benefit is that providing”

Nian flashed her teeth again, despite her protests Lava was an excellent “yes and” partner when she felt like it, and now Nian had gotten her to play.

“Well you see.” Nian drew herself up to her full height, head and shoulders over Lava to the point she almost loomed.

“They are great for your posture.”

Lava rolled her eyes, sure that Nian was familiar enough with the movement that she’d recognize it even with Lava wearing her visor

“Right. Well putting aside the frankly astounding number of ethical problems with all of that, it still wouldn’t work here at Rhodes.”

Nian tilted her head, curious.

“Oh? And why’s that?”

It was Lava’s turn to grin, she knew she was playing Nian’s game now, no helping that. But they’d been at this for years and Lava had gotten very good at playing.

“Haven’t you ever seen the combat logs of some of our operators once they get riled up in a fight? That pretty belt of yours wouldn’t last a second against someone like operator Horn in heat, no chance in hell”

“Lil Lava you wound me! In my pride as an artisan no less.” Using her tail Nian fished something out of her pile of discarded clothes and with a flick, sent something through the air at Lava. “Catch.”

Lava snatched the object with one hand before taking a moment to look it over. “Key” would be an accurate description but a very reductive one, the body of the key was cylindrical, with the teeth numbering in the dozens all around its circumference. Stranger though, was the fact that as Lava stared at the key it’s teeth became less defined and fuzzy, seeming to almost move.

“Give me fifty years and I *might* be able to produce that same exact key from memory, anybody who’s not me though? No chance.” Only Nian could make admitting she couldn’t do something in less than fifty years sound like a boast. “And that’s not all.”

Nian lifted one clawed finger up for Lava to see, the tip glowing forge hot after a moments concentration, and reached down to drag it up the front shield of the belt. Lava winced at the terrible screech and sparks the contact made, but when Nian finished her little display the belt hadn’t even lost its shine. “I built this piece as sturdy as I can make something, trust me when I say that without that exact key it’s not going anywhere.”

“….. Ok I’ll admit it, that’s pretty impressive.” Lava had seen Nian shape ingots by hand and shear chunks off of them with those same claws, that belt really was something else.

Lava pocketed the key.

From the same pocket she’d stored the key in Lava produced a small injection gun, with casual ease she reached out and pressed it against the exposed skin of Nian’s hip, right in the gap between the bottom of the corset and the top of the belt and pulled the trigger.

Nian, for her part, made no move to stop Lava and barely reacted to the injection. Lava had the basic medical training afforded to all higher level Rhodes Island operators and had long since become adept in administering her own meds so Nian hardly felt a thing.

Aside from a sudden burning curiosity.

“What was-“

“Highly concentrated heat inducer.” Lava let the now empty injector clatter onto a nearby table. “Gavial slipped it to me when I was coming to get you, mentioned something about how she owed you a prize after handing her a string of losses and that because you never had a proper physical she had to take a “Gavial Guess” at the dosage.”

Lava took advantage of a rare moment of stunned Nian silence to close the gap between them. “You’re so sure this stuff is a good answer to heat? Fine, but you’re doing the testing. Be sure to record your findings while I’m gone.”

Lava allowed herself a smile only after turning away from Nian’s dumbfounded expression, trying to process what had just happened. Only the last word of “gone” snapped her out of it. “Wait, what do mean by “gone” Lil Lava?”

Lava tossed a hand up in farewell as she headed out the door. “Oh didn’t I mention? I’m leading an away mission of new recruits later today, shouldn’t be gone more than three weeks, probably.”

With that, Lava turned down the hallway, the staccato rhythm of her cane on metal flooring slowly growing distant. Leaving Nian reeling.

“Ok Lil Lava I get it, you got me fair and square this time, you can come back now!” The only answer Nian received was a sudden involuntary muscle clench, a spike in temperature and sweat slowly beading on her brow.

“L-Lava?!”

[fishiecomics]

Beastober 17: Meal

Season 2 camels fic under cut~

Prompt list Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7 Day 8 Day 9 Day 10 Day 11 Day 12 Day 13 Day 14 Day 15 Day 16

Fishie sat on the floor of the camel’s house, fidgeting with the bottom of her new jacket. There was still work to be done to make the place feel more like home, but for now: it had walls, it had a floor, and it had windows. It was better than anything she’d had before the games, but that wasn’t relevant to what was currently on Fishie’s mind.

She watched as Dingo fiddled around the furnaces, engrossed in whatever her hooves were working on. She said she’d make them both dinner, but Fishie wasn’t sure what could really be done with just the handful of potatoes and salmon. Last season Fishie hadn’t been able to make anything extravagant with what they had. She was in charge of food since Kiki was the one handling caving, so everything they ate just got the job done. Simple bread and cooked cod with the occasional well done steak or mutton if they really needed it.

Dingo suddenly looked over and Fishie quickly looked away. Was she being weird for staring? Did Dingo not like being stared at while she worked? Fishie stared down at her lap. They hadn’t talked that much yet, which was fine. The season literally just started after all, but there was a bit of awkwardness in the air. They were enemies last season, Dingo literally blew up her husband. Well, ex-husband. Death did them part, those are the rules as far as Fishie knows. So while she still definitely loved him and wished he was here with her, that’s just how the things work. She thought it was strange how not angry she was at Dingo about it. She remembers being absolutely devastated about it when it happened and vowing revenge, but for some reason, the fire just wasn’t there. Was it because Dingo died in the end? She didn’t know.

Fishie looked back up to see Dingo still staring, the hog quickly returning to her work when they locked eyes. Was this awkward for her too? Fishie coughed into her knuckle and spoke up.

“So, uh. Do you like cooking?” There was a pause before Dingo responded.

“Yeah.” Dingo stated, not looking away from the food she was starting to plate.

“Cool. Cool.” Fishie scratched her cheek. Where could she take the conversation from there? Does she ask about her favorite food? Or is that too boring? What if she asked about what she made for her allies last season? Or was it a bad idea to talk about last season considering their history?

Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt something on her lap. Her new dog had rested his snout on her lap, begging to be pet. Fishie smiled, giving the boy what he wanted.

“You like dogs?” She looked up to Dingo walking over with two plates of food.

“Oh, yeah, they’re cool.”

“Nice.” Dingo knelt down and handed Fishie a plate, then joined her on their jungle wood floor.

“We’ve got to get some chairs set up in here tomorrow.” Dingo leaned back against the wall, setting her plate on her lap.

“What, you don’t like eating on the floor?” Fishie retorted while stopping her dog from gobbling up her food.

“I mean, I can. But it’ll probably be easier to eat without your dogs gnawing at your plate.” Fishie sighed and put her plate down.

“Alright, c'mere you little shit.” Fishie picked up her unnamed dog and set him in the corner next to her other dog.

“You two will get food later. And probably names if we’re lucky.” She’d wanted to do more fishing later. Last season it got her that sharpness book that she didn’t get to use that much, but she hoped she’d have a better go-around this time.

“Do you have names picked out for them?” Dingo asked.

“Maybe, there was a book I read as a kid that mentioned “The Dogs of War” so I might do something with that.”

“You read a lot?”

“Yeah, hobby of mine during uh. The before times.”

“Ah.” There it was again, back to the awkwardness.

Fishie wandered back next to Dingo and picked her plate back up. Now that she wasn’t distracted, she could look at the food in front of her. The salmon was practically glistening while the potatoes’ fluffy insides were bursting out of their skin. She hadn’t seen food prepared like this before, let alone thought it possible in the games. She cut off a part of the salmon and put it in her mouth. Her eyes widened and she immediately started stuffing more of it down her gullet. She could hear Dingo chuckle to her right.

“Taste good?”

“Mhm, ‘s good!” Fishie felt a bit of spit fly from her mouth. She stopped and covered her mouth.

“Sorry, sorry.” Fishie sputtered out. Dingo laughed.

“It’s fine, I’m glad you like it so much.” Fishie could see a glint of pride from Dingo’s eyes.

“I don’t know how you did this with what we had to work with.”

“I have my ways.” Dingo said coyly. “Just wait until we get the cows going. Then we’ll really be on our way to flavor town.” 

Shoving a piece of potato down her throat, Fishie suddenly felt a little more excited about the coming season. 

[fadelbison]

Maybe a little late but for the semi-nsfw ask!

7 - alangaipa

10 - sandray

Hello my friend I ended up writing the Sandray prompt "Pinning the other against the wall"

The chances of me filling a prompt request you send me might be abysmally low but apparently when I do the chances of you getting a fully formed 3k fic on ao3 is very high askdjhfdk If I could explain why I wrote this then mA all my mental would be gone. But unfortunately I am riddled with mental illness still so you can only read in bafflement. Without further ado:

Pairing: Sandray Rating: Explicit/NC-17 Summary: Thirteen years of marriage has taken its toll on Sand and Ray's relationship, they rummage in the rubble to salvage what they can.

Note: Please read all tags in the archive for relevant warnings!

Excerpt:

“Instead,” Ray falls into him, takes a deep breathe with his nose buried in the hollow of Sand’s jaw, “Let’s talk about why you don’t want to fuck your wife.” He kisses the side of Sand’s face, deceptively gentle, “Sunray Studio’s newest breakthrough artist. Her first ever single trending at #1. Hot. Young.” Ray moans, then takes a sensual little bite off Sand’s earlobe, “Tight.” Sand puts his hand on Ray’s chest, to get some distance between them. It doesn’t work, Ray pushes against the hand at his chest with his whole body, till he’s just as close as before. “She really does have the voice of an angel.” Ray continues as though Sand isn’t as stiff as a statue, taking deep breaths, trying to keep his temper under control. The only thing worse than Ray being out of control is when they both are. “Want to know a secret?” Ray says as he unbuttons Sand’s pants to get a hand around his soft cock, “I jerked off to that too. How sweetly she must sing, especially at 2am with that big, beautiful cock of yours inside of her.”

[professorspork]

the big 'Faunus worldbuilding in Newsbees' post

as requested by EVER SO MANY OF YOU (!!), I now embark upon a post to talk much more about the Shallow Sea Verses and about the Faunus culture and worldbuilding I did for Newsbees. I've talked about them a little bit before, and I'll try not to repeat myself too much there but there's gonna be some overlap.

I imagine when some of you asked me to say more about this, what you were hoping for was like a "here's all this great stuff I came up with for other traditions that I never got to use in the fic!" and that is--not what this post is, sorry. by virtue of the fact that this was, ultimately, a literary device very much devised to move this story forward, I didn't spend a lot of time thinking about in in ways that weren't plot-relevant. if you have prompts for, like, "how would they do/think about X" I'm delighted to give it a think, but it's not something I have just lying around.

instead I'm gonna talk about how it came about, why I did it, and what my priorities were

okay so I'm gonna take this in... I guess chronological order is the best way to make sense of it

from the outset of the fic's conception, I knew that I wanted it to be a reflection of my values. like. it's about unionizing a workforce, it's about socially-conscious community-building and class struggle and FUCK COPS. to disregard the minority oppression of the Faunus (which you'll note is something I always capitalize, for what I should think are now-obvious parallel reasons) in a world and a story like that just felt... not just insulting, but downright stupid. a missed opportunity. and I've always felt like this subject deserved much greater forethought and much better execution than canon provided, which I think can be described most charitably as "mostly serviceable" but is mealy-mouthed, inconsistent, and both-sidesy-whattaboutist at way too many points for me to feel like it merits any credit. like. if you're gonna do catgirl racism and intra-community disagreements over praxis, you gotta actually do catgirl racism and intra-community disagreements over praxis, you know?

(gee, I'm sure you're shocked Sienna is very much alive in Newsbees, wonder why that is)

ANYHOO

so that was thing one.

thing two is that this is perhaps the GREATEST ARGUMENT I HAVE for why I prefer writing everything in advance and then posting on a schedule, because I knew it was something I could then find my way into and then retcon back in, if needed, and that I therefore had the entire canvas available to paint on. and it's a good thing, too, because it saved my ass multiple times plot-wise and not just in this worldbuilding way.

to combine those two thoughts, the first time ANY of this actually came up in the drafting process was when I hit the Ilia scene in chapter 6. I knew what I wanted Blake to say to Ilia in that moment, which she absolutely couldn't say, which was: "I said the Mourner's Kaddish."

which: that's already a lot to unpack, so let's do that a bit! the first thing that drew me towards formulating my conception of Faunus culture around parallels to the diasporic Jewish experience is, of course, "write what you know." I'm not a racial or ethnic minority but I am Jewish, and so it was something I could use the 'draw from wellspring of personal knowledge and emotion' part of my brain for, rather than the 'radically and empathetically imagine the other' part of my brain. I've seen all sorts of fanon Faunus ideas where people drew on different and likely personal interpretations-- including things like the Faunus having their own language, Faunus interpolations of the Maiden myths and other Remnant lore having different values or being scaled more towards the God of Animals, Faunus having their own foods... if someone not-me had written this fic, this could have manifested in any number of ways. because the Faunus don't fit neatly into my (very American) notions of race, religion, or even X-men style "maybe we should regulate the people who have nukes for hands" minority/majority frameworks, I had the freedom to use the one that had the most personal meaning to me... and to deviate from that when it suited and felt appropriate. Neon's rightfully combative stance about Faunus mistreatment and how she reacts to it, for example, is far more aligned with the experiences of my friends and loved ones who are POC than it is anything I've personally gone through as a Jew.

so!

knowing, then, what my destination was (a Faunus cultural framework that would have specific death rites and rituals), I worked backwards from there. what makes a culture FEEL lived in is that people LIVE in it, that it relates to their everyday lives as well as its most significant moments-- what do we eat? how do we treat guests in our home? how do we handle life cycle events (birth/marriage/death)? without a country of origin, as the Faunus have none-- they made Menagerie, not the other way around-- and not wanting to go TOO explicitly religious by having there actually be some sort of dogmatic (har har DOG-matic) text about the God of Animals, I instead lit upon the idea of old poems whose metaphors have been transformed into material gifts. this felt intuitive to me probably largely because I'm Jewish (we're called the People of the Book for a reason lmao, we're all about interpretation and re-interpretation of text) but also, honestly, because the written word is WILDLY IMPORTANT in newsbees. they work at a newspaper! there's a reason the very last words of the story are Blake saying "for the record," which is a reporting pun. in hindsight, however, this is also sort of Sappho-y, which is also neat and, again, shows that ALL the ways I've experienced my own Otherness show up here.

having a text then gave me a scale of orthodoxy to work from, as in "very traditional people still recite these texts in a ceremonial way," but also a background radiation-level casual level of interaction, which is "yeah I leave shells at graves because that's what my parents taught me and I don't even really know why." this also means that all Faunus have the same sort of playbook to work from, regardless of where they're from geographically or what kind of Faunus they are.

once I had that in place, I immediately realized that whatever traditional Mourner's Verse there would be probably would feel kind of insulting re: what happened to the Amitolas, which is why I came up with the Traveler's Verse workaround. and the second I came up with that, I knew I could use it to connect Ghira and Kali back into the text at the end-- I'd been wanting to find a way to do that and hadn't come up with a method.

the first draft of that scene then promptly infodumped every thought I could possibly have about the Verses, immediately. @theseerasures teased me that it read like a Codex entry from Mass Effect, and she was 100% right-- and it totally interrupted the flow of the VERY EMOTIONAL scene with Ilia, which wouldn't do at all.

and that's where the 'writing it all before posting it' thing comes in. that infodumping then became the scene at Doc's in chapter 3. this also solved another problem I had, which was that in the VERY first draft chapters 3 and 4 were one very long chapter. I'd subsequently split them, which left chapter 3 quite short-- but at that point, the moment where Blake is upstairs getting her snack was only a brief explanatory paragraph. moving the Verses stuff back made the chapter a chapter, so it did a lot of heavy lifting for me. wanting the Verses to feel integrated, I also at that point went back and added the engraving on Tukson's door to the prologue, so that it would be seeded in from the start.

which is kind of to say that ALL WRITING IS CHEATING. we get to manipulate circumstances to best suit our needs! callbacks feel elegant and cerebral, but they're actually a very blunt and easy tool to use-- you get tons of mileage out of just establishing something and then bringing it up all the time. I'd already written the thing about Tukson being picky about book damage, and so I let that become a part of the Verses lore by saying it was a Faunus thing, and then doubled down on it with the "throwing the book at Ghira" anecdote.

as for what things mean what, the basic rule I gave for myself is that everything had to be common and easily-obtainable for a community often left impoverished and on the margins. that's why so many of them are food-based, because that's a very "even if we have nothing else, we have THIS" sort of thing. when coming up with the thing that would represent love, I lit upon honey BEFORE i realized "oh duh, lmao, bees" because... I'm an idiot, but luckily I figured it out after a bit. I was very enamored of the idea of it representing not just sweetness, but industry (as in "busy bees"), that love takes steady and determined work. the second I did think it up, the Velvet gag gift ("they're making fun of me") sprang to mind, though ironically it wasn't necessarily tied to the Mantle Bee yet, though that was also already a concept on the page.

probably the hardest thing to come up with was the NOT-honey gift for the epilogue (which ended up being nuts for growth), because I was like... is it a pen and paper for a first job? Is that too bougie? maybe a cute little desk succulent? but what would it represent?

and yeah, that's pretty much how I got there. it was a question of making something specific enough that it would feel authentic, but open-ended enough that I could make up whatever I wanted to suit the moment and have it all feel of a piece. from there, it was just about USING it-- keeping it in the back of my mind in Faunus-related scenes to see if there were ways I could weave it in somehow.

phew! okay I think that's pretty much everything. if anyone is so very enamored of the Verses that they'd like to use them for their own fics, you certainly have my permission to do so (with a link back to Newsbees for credit, please). I'm intrigued to see what you'd do with them! but also, like-- I love how multi-faceted and varied different interpretations of Faunus lore can be, and I'd love to see what y'all come up with for your own systems!

CONSIDER THE GAUNTLET THROWN. HAVE FUN OUT THERE.

<3

[maaxverstappen]

I’ve been asking ppl cus im nosy. What’s your writing process like if any? Do u have a preferred place or time. Preferred device. Do u write rough drafts then edit or is it much more considered. How do u decide that an idea is worth fleshing out or pursuing if it looks like it’s plotty. Pls yap at length if u so wish — wiz

i love this question!! and would love to know other answers so if you want to reblog them i shall be on the lookout 👀.

i answered partly here so will just like build on that!!

the process is that i’ll have an idea and depending on how large it is write out some sort of outline. my preference for all planning in life is on paper so i have a little journal that ill write out some ideas in. kind of brainstorm / mind map style of just jotting down random ideas that come to mind.

however, with longer fics like my current post-as-i-go wip i have to do it digital bc so much changes and it’s too long (see pics in previous ask). that one i actually started planning in my notes app on a plane bc the idea had to come out of me someway and i was really excited about it. i then transferred it to a google doc and added onto my chapter per chapter outline (1st pic in previous ask). i felt like that was a bit overwhelming for understanding the overall plot so then i went and made a simple overview of the key plot points per chapter (the 2nd pic in previous ask) just so i felt like i had a better understanding of the goal per chapter.

now when i sit down to write a chapter ill get both the detailed notes and the main plot points and just write whatever i feel like in order to get to the goal of the chapter.

for shorter one shot fics i’ll either have no full outline or a one page idea list kind of thing. for instance, for worth the trouble i knew that it would start and end in the present time and then everything in between would be a flashback, but i didn’t know the flashbacks would be non chronological until i was writing it. same for the chewing gum aspect that ends up being quite an important part of the symbolism and that almost weaves the parts together, that wasn’t a *thing* until i was almost finished with the rough draft and i then went to add it in to previous scenes.

for my long fic i have to be a bit more calculated with the hidden messages/foreshadowing as i can’t go back and edit published chapters lmao so that is a little more thought out + i keep track of loose ends to tie together at some point.

editing is a bit of a harder one. for my long fic my overal editing is per chapter, but i do tend to go back and edit per section too. like right now I’m writing a texting scene and first i wrote the plain texting dialogue, then i went back to add the bits in between from characters’ pov. then i’ll read over it fully and edit where needed. finally when the whole chapter is done ill read over it and edit again, but at that point it’s mainly grammar and punctuation.

my main writing issues i’ve noticed so far is that i tend to switch tenses without realising so that’s something i look out for when editing. i also am always worried they don’t *do* enough so i like to think “hmm what action can i add in here to make them more human” when editing.

so far only worth the trouble has been beta read, the rest i do myself. if I’m stuck i will talk through a lot of it with my partner who will give me some ideas and just like help lmao (she’s also the one that beta read wtt!). but she’s not in the f1 fandom so it’s a little hard to have her beta read for characterisation and specific plot points so i do that myself. like when she beta read wtt she gave a few points of feedback that weren’t too relevant bc the average f1 fic reader would understand (like the significance of spa21, there is no need to explain it).

I’m a baby fic writer so a lot of my process will be redefined and refined as i go I’m sure.

as for deciding what to write, it’s really whatever captures my attention. the prompt for help me hold onto you is one i really liked and a trope i love reading myself. i was also ready to challenge myself to a longer plot fic and i was really excited about the idea so i just went for it! my main consideration is really just how excited i am for it.

i will say that i am currently really struggling with perfectionism / imposter syndrome. I’m having a hard time getting the words onto paper bc it feels like it’ll never be as good as my favourite authors anyway so what’s the point. (which is now also impacting the way i read fics bc it makes me sad that ill never write anything as good as what I’m reading lol)

i generally write on my laptop! in a google doc with grammarly activated and the word count on screen (which pisses me off bc i have to turn it back on after every refresh). i wrote my latest crafty!oscar on my phone (bc i was too excited to wait till i got to my laptop) but wouldn’t ever do that for anything much longer or plot-ier than that.

i fear this has gotten very long. i know u said yap away but …. i perhaps have yapped too close to the sun.