#just tagging wip doesn't seem like enough

[patolemus]

Wip Monday

Tagged by @gege-wondering-around @dontcallpanic and probably @novasillies at some point (yes I know I'm the literal worst please forgive me). Because I can never do anything like I'm supposed to, I'm not posting on Wednesday. This is a little thing I've been toying with per @superfluffycam-blog's request, nothing concrete yet but the idea is slowly coming together. With my track record, I'll either write the whole thing in one sitting sometime soon or it'll take ages (speaking of ages the Time Travel fic Is Coming I fucking promise!! It's been a very busy month but I'm done with my classes in like two weeks and then I just have to get through finals. I'll be back to post deranged shit about sterek after that)

The house is quiet. It’s always quiet these days, his dad away at the station for what feels like one long infinite shift, and Stiles running around town with a bunch of supernaturally inclined creatures at odd hours. On the nights he’s not running from certain death, Stiles keeps to his bedroom, headphones on and blaring music loud enough his eardrums hurt because at least that way he can pretend that’s the reason he doesn’t hear any noise around the house.

It wasn’t always like this. Stiles remembers a time when the house was full of noise, all the time. The low tunes playing on the radio in the kitchen, the occasional clang of pans against wooden spoons, the buzz of the television broadcasting the latest baseball game. Small giggles and loud shrieks of laughter, soft humming in the living room as his parents slow danced in the evening.

No one hums or slow dances anymore.

Stiles’ footsteps sound way too loud in the otherwise silent house. He drops his backpack by the stairs to pick up on his way to his room later, and beelines for the kitchen. There is a lone plate sitting on the drying rack, the only sign that his dad has come home sometime during the day while he was away at school. Stiles is not naive enough to believe that to be a coincidence. He and his dad haven’t crossed paths since… ah, Stiles doesn’t even know anymore. Between the werewolves and the hunters and the kanimas and the fucking crazy that has become his life, the days seem to be going by way too fast to keep count of them. These days, Stiles only has space in his head for the dates of the full moons.

He gets started on dinner before working on his homework. Stiles makes food for two, even though he knows his dad probably won’t come home to eat it in favor of getting something from the diner—a salad, most likely, because he has all of his dad’s usual haunts bribed and monitored, as well as all of his deputies, to make sure they don’t sell his dad anything that might make his health go sideways. Stiles knows most of them merely indulge him because of their own affection towards him, but Stiles isn’t above using that to make his dad stays as healthy as possible.

On the off chance the Sheriff does come home tonight, though—a slim, slim chance, Stiles wants there to be food for him to eat. He doesn't want to give his dad another reason to be disappointed, another reason to be mistrustful. Stiles still feels cold all over when he remembers the resignation on his dad's eyes, how he'd said he didn't know who Stiles was anymore.

It’s... it's been a tough year.

And I'm afraid that's all I've got for you. I've always loved the stories that explore Stiles and the Sheriff's complex relationship, how Claudia's death altered their dynamic to the point where it was hard to figure out who was the parent and who was the child, how Stiles became this autonomous, independent character we see in canon at the age of 10 years old. This is, in theory, meant to be a character study centered on that topic. Will I succeed? Who knows!! Not me. Gently tagging @dontcallpanic @salty-fryingpan @endwersed @novasillies @hedwig221b and @gege-wondering-around

[calicomarie11]

Tommy is a dumbass, but Buck loves him anyways.

Just because it seems warranted on tonight of all nights, I'm sharing a bit of my current WIP. This was all written before tonight's episode, so it doesn't match up with canon.

Subject to change before it gets posted to AO3 because I'm trying this crazy thing where I actually write the whole fic before I start posting chapters.

-------------

Tommy threw the strap of his duffle bag over his shoulder and wearily trudged up the front steps of his house, ready to sleep and wallow for the next two days until it was time to go back on shift. 

He went to unlock his front door and paused as the handle turned easily in his hand. He wasn’t the type to forget to lock up and it didn’t look like the door had been forced. He cautiously pushed the door open and eased into the house. He set down his bag carefully and grabbed the baseball bat he kept propped next to the door. (Look, his neighborhood was safe enough, but this was LA and weird shit happened all the time.)

Gripping the baseball bat tightly, Tommy made his way down the front hallway, ear cocked for the noise of intruders. As he approached the living room, the sounds of a baseball game on the tv got louder. 

“Goddamit, he was safe,” a familiar voice shouted, and Tommy eased up his grip on the bat. He set it down as he walked into his living room and spotted Eddie stretched out on his couch, a bottle of his beer in hand as he watched the Rangers losing to the Cubs. 

“Diaz,” he said, “What the fuck are you doing in my house?”

“Kinard,” Eddie snarked back in return. “Just stopping by to see if you were going senile in your old age. See, my best friend, Buck, you remember him? Came to my house with a hilarious story about you trying to dump him. Given the fact I had to drag you past that jewelry store when you started staring at engagement rings in the window the last time we went out to catch a movie, I find it a little hard to believe.” Eddie took long drink of his beer as he cocked an eyebrow at Tommy.

Tommy huffed and stalked out of the room to go to the kitchen. If he’s going to do this, he’s at least going to have a beer.  He yanked open the door of his fridge with a little too much force, knocking a few magnets loose and sending a handful of pictures to drift to the floor. He grabs a beer and sets in on the counter before bending down to pick up the photos. 

Evan and him in a beach selfie, a shot of Tommy and Evan on either side of Christopher from the first time Tommy tagged along to the zoo, a photo of the 118 in their Halloween Fest finery and a shot of Tommy swinging Jee around in Bobby and Athena’s backyard. He stacks them neatly and places them next to his beer on the counter. 

He wants to put them back up, where they belong. But they don’t really belong there now that he told Evan goodbye.  He picks up the stack again and opens the junk drawer. He closes the drawer again and then sets the pile face down to be dealt with later. He grabs his beer and heads back to his living room and his ex-boyfriend’s best friend.

Eddie is still shouting at the tv when he returns. He waits until Tommy sits down next to him to pout, “Where’s my beer?”

“You invited yourself, you can get your own damn beer,” Tommy growls. He makes a point of relaxing back into the couch and keeps his eyes trained on the tv. “How’d you get in anyways?” Tommy would have remembered giving Eddie a key.

“Switched keys with Buck.”

Tommy turns to look at Eddie, confused. “Then how did Evan drive home?”

“Man, other then the key for your house and one for Maddie’s place, 99% of our keys are the same. I have the spare for the Jeep and he has the spare for the truck in case one of us gets locked out.”

Tommy shakes his head at this new revelation. “Anyone ever tell you how weirdly codependent you two are?”

“We are not codependent, we are practical and efficient,” Eddie said in an affronted tone.“Besides, where’s your spare key for the truck?” he asked, his smirk communicating that he already knew the answer.

“With Evan,” Tommy confirmed. “Which means you currently have it. You should give me those keys before you leave.”

“Nope. You’re going to have to talk to Buck if you want your keys back,” Eddie said. 

“We could trade, Buck’s house key for mine?” Tommy tried.

 “No deal. If Buck doesn’t want you to have a key, he’ll ask for it back. Besides, half of LA has keys to Buck’s place at this point.”

“What?” Tommy said, surprise in his voice.

“Well, dude gets hurt so often and usually doesn’t have a partner to help out so everybody pitches in. Off the top of my head there’s me, Maddie, Bobby, Hen, Chim, Albert, Ravi, May, Chris of course, Carla, and there’s a spare at the firehouse on the master key ring. Oh, and the neighbors across the hall have a key.”

“Why would the neighbors need a key?”

“Buck locked himself out one time taking out the trash on the super’s night off so he asked Rose and Ethel to keep a key just in case.  Worked out, because they don’t mind watering his plants when he’s in the hospital for more then a few days.”

“Rose and Ethel? Does he live across the hall from septuagenarians?”

Eddie huffed, “Worse, trust fund babies. But they’re harmless. I’m surprised you haven’t met them yet.”

“Wait, does one of them have a septum piercing and the other one has pink hair?”

“Ironically, Rose is the one with the piercing. Anyways, stop trying to distract me and answer the damn question. What the hell, Kinard?” Eddie speared him with a piercing stare.

“I could kick you out,” Tommy said under his breath, although apparently not quiet enough.

“You could try,” Eddie scoffed. 

Tommy side-eyed Eddie. He knew he could take the slighter man, but he also knew he didn’t want to. He wasn’t quite ready to give up on the friendships he’d made or rekindled through his connection to Evan. Sure, Eddie was acting in his role as Evan’s best friend right now, but they had their own relationship.

“Why are you here?” Tommy asked, frustration evident. He hadn’t expected that Eddie would want anything to do with him after he had broken up with Evan and he’d tried to make his peace with that.

“My friend is being a dumbass, where else would I be? Seriously, man, what’s going on?” Eddie asked, and Tommy wants to talk about it, but he can’t trust it will stay between them. 

That was always the problem with his friendship with Eddie, it included Evan. He got that they were a package deal, and when he and Evan were good that wasn’t a problem. But now, he couldn’t just unload on Eddie and not expect it to get back to Evan.

“I’m not talking to you about this. I get that you want to help, but this is between me and Evan.” He tried to resist asking, but the curiosity won out. “What did he tell you?”

“Just that you blindsided him and started talking about taking some time apart, that he needed to get out there and explore his “sexuality” and how you didn’t want to hold him back. At least, that’s what I could make out before he doom spiraled and started dissecting the past month to figure out what he had done wrong.” Eddie narrowed his eyes at him. “You know he was expecting you to ask him to move in at that dinner, right?” 

And Tommy can see how Evan might have come to that conclusion when he’d asked him over. They’d been together 8 months and Evan spent more nights at Tommy’s then at his own loft. Evan bought groceries and brought them to his house so he could try out new recipes and he’d started hinting about how the backyard was big enough for a dog and Tommy had realized that half the laundry he’d folded last week had belonged to Evan. 

And he could see it, his future with Evan. A shared home, a supportive group of family and friends, hosting Thanksgiving because Evan really wants to deep fry a turkey and no one will let him try it at their homes. Marriage and kids and pets and joy. An end to the search, an end to being alone, the beginning of the rest of his life. 

And he panicked. Because 8 months ago Evan thought he was straight, he’d never kissed a man other then Tommy and one day he was going to wake up and realize that he settled for the first guy to make a move on him. And then he’d resent Tommy and it would be the beginning of the end. 

So instead of asking Evan to move in, he’d sent him away. At least, he’d tried to. 

He’d stumbled through a standard break up speech, the kind of thing he’d heard dozens of times during his life. It’s not you, it’s me. This is moving too fast. I think we should take some time apart, explore our options. 

And Evan had frowned at him, his brow furrowed as if Tommy was speaking a foreign language. He’d stuttered out a “Wh-what the fuck are you talking about?”midway through Tommy’s speech and then as Tommy kept trying to make him understand he’d started laughing. He’d actually patted the back of Tommy’s hand and said simply “No.”

It had stopped Tommy in his tracks. “No? You can’t refuse a breakup, Evan,” Tommy had said.

“Sure I can. I’m going to go and let you have your ‘time apart’ but this is not finished between us, Kinard.” And then he’d left and apparently headed straight for Eddie.

“Earth to Kinard,” Eddie snarked at him. “You want to spill what’s going through that fat head of yours? Because I, for one, can’t believe you are fumbling this. And I thought Buck was the idiot in your relationship.” 

Tommy felt a growl in his chest at the insult to Evan, no matter how lovingly offered. Evan was not an idiot, he was brilliant. He was smart and funny and warm and so open and he was going to destroy him when he left. So Tommy left first. 

“Eddie, I mean this with love, but leave it the fuck alone. You can stay if you want, catch the rest of the game but I am not talking about this with you.” 

Eddie shrugged, “All right, bro. Just be prepared for your man to go full Buck on you.” He chuckled as he toasted Tommy with the dregs of his beer. He got up to grab another from the kitchen. 

“I don’t know what that means,” Tommy yelled after him. “What does that even mean?” he muttered under his breath. 

[ishipallthings]

Cap Iron Man Rec Week 2024 (Wed)

Early in Canon Wednesday - July 24th for @cap-ironman Rec Week

Fics set early in canon as the boys are getting to know each other :D

Remember to show some love for your hard-working creators!

To Be With You (Is Easy) by Carsonian @carsonian (MCU)

Tony doesn't know what prompted him to visit the recently defrosted Captain America, and he certainly hadn't given much thought to the little confessionals he's given the comatose Capsicle. But when Steve Rogers wakes up and seeks him out, he finds there's an attraction between them that can't be denied.

No Return, No Return by Carsonian @carsonian (MCU)

In many ways, Tony Stark has spent his whole life waiting to meet something real enough to test himself against. He hadn't planned on it being Steve Rogers.

Wish You Were Here by One and Five Nines (MCU)

Steve starts sending Tony postcards.

tear these old walls down by susiecarter @susiecarter (MCU)

Steve didn't like Tony Stark. Stark probably didn't like Steve, either. They'd gotten off on the wrong foot, and that was putting it mildly. And having to pretend to be a civilian Stark was dating, as cover for trying to save Stark's life while Iron Man was busy with a SHIELD mission, obviously wasn't going to help.

when you're gone by talktothesky @thatbuddie (MCU)

Steve's had to get used to many things in the 21st century but falling in love with Tony Stark might be the weirdest one yet. Especially because the man's dead.

not a lot, just forever by Thahire @thahiree (MCU)

A few months after the Battle of New York, Tony invites Steve over to see the apartment he has built for him. Steve, of course, is totally normal about this and not panicking at all.

Handheld by talesofsuspense (MCU)

When Steve starts stopping for lunch at Shawarma Palace he isn't expecting Tony to show up and to keep showing up. And he definitely isn't expecting a guide to the 21st century.

posing up a storm by picturecat @snoozingcat (MCU, alt 2012)

“I have an idea. Can we just pretend the day ended with that really badass Superfriends pose we did?”

Machines and Marvels by rainbowninja167 (MCU, alt 2012)

Or: In an alternate timeline where the Avengers never formed, Steve and Tony need a crash course in team bonding. Stephen Strange just had to take that literally.

choke on me by imperialstark @persephonesfill (MCU, WIP)

After fending off an alien invasion, Tony Stark has one more obstacle to face; Steve Rogers. Steve believes that they have a connection which Tony is trying hard to ignore. After a moment of passion aboard the helicarrier, Tony can't seem to stay away from Steve as their lives grow ever more intertwined.

and two self-recs!

I'll Be (Good To You) by ishipallthings (MCU, soulmate AU)

Steve Rogers wakes up seventy years out of time to a new world and a soulmate. It’s an adjustment. What he doesn’t expect is Tony Stark, a brilliant futurist who is equal parts fascinating and frustrating, and has just as many demons as Steve. He also doesn’t expect to find a family with a ragtag team of superheroes, or to fall in love. Luckily, Steve is nothing if not adaptable.

An Armored Heart by ishipallthings (AA)

In which Red Skull goes after Steve Rogers, and Tony realizes just how much he has to lose.

Hope you guys enjoy the recs, and stay tuned! Please mind the tags before reading. Check out my tag for previous years’ rec lists :)

[mydarlingclaudia]

taste like the fourth of july

note : dividers are from @/rookthornesartistry. I FUCKING LOVE LANA DEL REY AND I LOVE HER UNRELEASED SONGS GUESS WHAT THIS IS INSPIRED BY!!!!!! SUGAR DADDY CHRIS!!!!!!! OOC DONT WORRY ABOUT IT!!!!!! this is really short but I've had this in my drafts since 9/9 and I finally got it of motivation to write it so it was either getting written tonight or not at all and if you saw this as a wip in a wip tag game and you thought it was gonna be smut sorry lmao

wc : 1.2k

tags : @lottiies @luvrgreyy @withonly-sweetheart @onlyasimp4nobody

desc : sugar daddy. established-ish relationship, fluff, a bit suggestive, age gap (mid twenties - late forties), fem!reader, re8!Chris, not proofread

You love him ‘cause he tastes like your favorite liquor, and also because of the fat wad of cash he’s willing to hand over if you just bat your eyelashes at him. Well, that might be the reason, anyway. Not one of the sweetest men you’ve ever been with, but definitely one of the best.

Chris will buy pretty much anything for you. Expensive shoes you’ve been staring at in magazines? Yours. A watch that’s way too expensive but you like the color? It’s on your wrist the next morning. A cute new swimsuit? It’s yours as long as he gets to watch you model it.

There seems to be only perks when it comes to continuing on with whatever is going on between you and Chris; the money, the gifts, the vacations, the sex. Only downside is him going away for work, but that’s only a small downside, it doesn’t scare you away. Chris isn’t leaving you uncared for, anyway. The $1,000 he gives you the night before he heads out is supposed to be an apology, that’s what he says, at least.

Chris isn’t totally sure why he’s still doing this, he always thought of himself as a more traditional guy, you know, get a girlfriend that would eventually become a fiancée and after that a wife. But when he met you at this nice little restaurant, sitting all alone at the bar, eyeing him the whole fucking night, what was he supposed to say to you when you tapped him on the shoulder and asked him for a cigarette? No? It was a lucky enough guess that you even assumed he had cigarettes on him, maybe the smell of the smoke clung to his clothes more than had thought.

You hadn’t even asked if he was married, you probably saw his ring finger that lacked a wedding ring and took that as a green light.

It’s probably better this way, Christ, you’re twenty-six and he’s forty-eight. Chris could waste a few thousand dollars on you, give you a few years of his time, there’s not much else that he does besides work.

And you’re pretty, you’re worth the money.

So who is he to deny you? It really is a win-win.

But it’s not like you and Chris are exclusive, you were both able to sleep with whoever you wanted, no hard feelings if you do or don’t. And you did, for a little bit, before you started questioning whether or not Chris did the same. You never noticed another woman's clothes in his apartment, no lipstick-stained shirts in his hamper, nothing. You stopped seeing other men maybe a week after Chris had found a few fading hickeys on your hips and left darker ones where they once stood.

Okay, saying you love him might actually be a bit of a lie, but you’re pretty sure he’s lying to you too when he says it back. You’re not one to look things over too much, even if he does truly love you, that just makes your situation better.

Another great thing is date night.

You love vacations just as much as the next person, but Chris' job doesn't guarantee any amount of time longer than a week off. So vacations are a treat, typically a birthday present for either you or Chris, go somewhere with a great beach and greater drinks.

Date night is at the very least once a month, Chris always calls you a few days before, tells you the time and place and you just stand there and nod before blowing him a kiss over the phone as a goodbye before hanging up.

He takes you out, buys you dinner, gets you a new dress or a new necklace depending on how you're feeling that night, then drives you through the city before heading back to either his or your place.

You will admit that you find it funny when he doesn't know how to react to what you do. If you want something, say it, okay? Don't send him nudes, he's told you time and time again that he prefers seeing you face-to-face and not on a tiny screen that doesn't capture the whole view. You think he prefers it that way because then at least he can reach out and touch you instead of trying to type things out on his phone only for them to end up being deleted seconds later.

The morning after date night is never awkward, at least not usually. You either spend the day at Chris' or he takes you out shopping again before dropping you back at your place. You still feel sore most mornings.

This is one of those mornings, you can still feel the burn between your legs and the sting of bites, scratches, and beard burn left behind. Chris isn't there when you grope around for him in bed, but he's quick to come to your rescue as you hear the sink in the bathroom turn on before the door opens and he steps out.

"You up?" He's straightening his shirt out when he asks you, not looking at you as you sit up in his bed.

You stretch and rub your eyes, "Mhm," You mumble, Chris finally looks at you.

"You usually sleep like a log."

"Can you blame me?" Another mumble and he smiles, walking over to you and placing both his hands on the side of your face so he can lean down and kiss the top of your head. "Goin' somewhere?"

"Got called in, something important, apparently." He sighs, you push forward and lean against his ribs as he brushes through your tangled hair with his fingers.

"It always is."

"Mm, don't pout."

"Don't want me to miss you?" As always, whenever you tease him, he only responds to you with a light scoff before he smiles. Chris pulls you away from his ribs so he can cup the back of your neck and get you to look at him, his thumbs trace over the edges of your jaw and you hum.

"You still want something from me?"

"A pony," Chris rolls his eyes this time, kneeling so he can wrap his arms around you once you giggle.

"We're going out again once I get back." You think you hear him murmur, "Not to get a fucking pony." under his breath even though you can feel his breath in your ear, but you know he's saying that more to himself than to you.

"Surprise me?"

"Sure," Chris pulls back and kisses your cheek before his lips meet yours, his kisses are as slow as they always are. Chris breaks the kiss for a second only yo mumble, "Do you feel alright?"

"Yeah, I'm just gonna go back to bed for a bit." You press a kiss to his closed mouth as you play with the ends of his short hair.

"I gotta go," You sigh and kiss him again before you pull away from him, he kisses the corner of your mouth before he stands up. "Go have fun today."

"I will."

"Good, I wanna see what you bought later." You lay back down again as Chris starts to pull his jacket on and head for the bedroom door.

"Don't be too late," Your back is already turned towards the door when you call out to him, you don't see the smile he shoots you over his shoulder before he leaves.

[hippolotamus]

WIP Wednesday ☕

Tagged by the lovely and talented @theotherbuckley @tizniz @daffi-990 @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @dangerpronebuddie

@spotsandsocks @indestructibleheart @racerchix21 Please go visit their amazing snips, audio and art! 💖

It's still Wednesday somewhere right? Ok, so this post about Tommy grabbing Buck's hoodie from @whollyjoly has been haunting me (in the best possible way) for a few weeks. Earlier today it came up when I was chatting with Bee and, well, here we are. From my brain to your dash.

Tommy is... well, to say he's not a morning person is a bit of an understatement. The only reason he prefers to see the sun come up is because he hasn't gone to bed yet. So, when Coleson lands in the hospital for appendicitis and shifts get moved, Tommy is less than thrilled. But, it's his job - his career - that he happens to enjoy very much. He gives himself two minutes to grumble before telling himself to get over it. Telling Evan had been even less fun. He understands, of course. They've both been in the business long enough to understand that things change and being flexible is par for the course. It's just that they finally seemed to have gotten into a decent cadence with their schedules and figuring out how to have regular date nights where they aren't exhausted or rushing off to a shift. C'est la vie or whatever. "Five more minutes?" Evan mumbles, tightening his hold as Tommy tries to extricate himself. He chuckles and rubs his thumb over Evan's birthmark. "That was your five more, baby." Evan slowly blinks his eyes open and pouts unapologetically. "Don't even try because it won't work," Tommy says. "Unless you've got some secret in with my boss that will let me be late.” "No." Evan somehow manages to pout even more. "But it was worth a shot, right?" Warmth floods through his chest, radiating out like liquid sunshine. The temptation to call off and stay in bed all day is overwhelming. But Tommy's a big boy. As such he's going to win the war over Evan's incredibly adorable puppy eyes and go to work. "It was a valiant effort." Tommy kisses the tip of Evan's nose before capturing his lips, morning breath be damned. "Better luck next time, kid." "Go. You're gonna be late." Evan playfully shoves his shoulder. It's so easy and fun and light and- what was it Casey McQuiston wrote? Oh, right. Alex is so in love he could die. That. That's what Tommy feels. He just hopes Evan doesn't run when Tommy finally gets the courage to say it out loud. He leans in for one more kiss before shimmying out from under the covers. The extra five minutes he gave Evan turned out to be closer to fifteen and now he has to rush to throw himself together. He allows for a quick rinse in the shower before hastily throwing on jeans, a tee and hoodie. "Thanks, babe." Tommy takes the travel mug of coffee Evan hands him and settles for giving him a peck on the cheek so he doesn't undo all the work of trying to be on time. "Be safe," Evan says, no less sincere than the first time. It's said with care, as part of this ritual they're developing. Not because it's a habit or a meaningless platitude. But because it’s intentional. “Of course.”

It is crazy late so take this for today or another tag day. LMK if you'd rather not be tagged for BuckTommy stuff. I get it's not everyone's jam. np tagging:

@actuallyitsellie @epicbuddieficrecs @loveyouanyway @a-noble-dragon @mountedeverest

@fortheloveofbuddie @weewootruck @saybiwithme mi amor @bidisasterevankinard @shipperqueen6

@ramonaflow @stereopticons @kitteneddiediaz @mrs-f-darcy @diazsdimples

@drowsy-quill @your-catfish-friend @thekristen999 @filet-o-feelings @wikiangela

@underwaterninja13 LOML @lizzie-bennetdarcy @rainbow-nerdss @steadfastsaturnsrings @queenmabcreates

@inell @jesuisici33 @rmd-writes @shortsighted-owl @queerbuckleys

@bi-buckrights @elvensorceress @bucksbiawakening @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck

@ladydorian05 @lemonzestywrites @monsterrae1 @statueinthestone @slightlyobsessedwitheverything

@the-likesofus @thewolvesof1998 @vanillahigh00 @watchyourbuck @welcometololaland

@wildlife4life and anyone else who wants to 😘

[messy-crisantemo]

Since last week, I wanted to make a

🎴 GenTan fic recommendation list Part 2! 🍉

Don’t forget to check out Part 1 too!

As the last time, this list is based on my personal likes and, ofc, on the fics I’ve read. I tried to include all GenTan flavors ❤️💜 They’re not put in any particular order and most of them are completed fics. I’m adding some of the tags, but not all of them since I don’t want to make this post extra long, so please read them again once you go to the Ao3 link. Anime-onlies, beware of spoilers. Please enjoy!

sliding across the clouded sky by mimimimi (reiiiiii), 179k, WIP

(Figure skating AU, Modern Setting, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn, Aged-Up Character(s), Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining)

The life of a figure skater is short. People expect you to retire at a young age and the moment you have an injury and take a break to recover, you're done for.

Shinazugawa Genya had to deal with it now that he's gotten the biggest injury on his skating career. And the press isn't helping at all, either.

The only light keeping him connected to the figure skating world? Kamado Tanjirou.

Starting with a classic! This beautiful slow burn explores the nature of their relationship as something that makes grow both Genya and Tanjirou. It has lots of funny and tender moments.

Life in plastic, it’s fantastic! by Side_Ponytail, 4k

(Modern Setting, Meet-Cute, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Getting Together, First Kiss, POV Alternating, Fluff and Humor, Scheming)

Tanjiro takes his siblings to see the Barbie movie, Genya’s siblings drag him along, and Parent Trap levels of shenanigans ensue.

No Barbie Movies were spoiled in the making of this fic.

One of the funniest and most adorable fics I’ve ever read. If you need a boost of sugar, this is it.

June Bridegroom by 125389, 2k

(Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Fluff and Angst, Established Relationship, Kamado Tanjirou-centric, Horror, Manga Spoilers)

Upon concluding an important day, the boundary between dreams and reality blurs as Tanjirou reveals the true nature of his feelings and whom he's really marrying.

A fic for those who love to suffer and don’t fear to embrace the tragic nature of GenTan.

a checkered haori by DragonsAndCryptids, 2k

(Post-Swordsmith Village Arc, Hurt/Comfort, Scents & Smells, Pre-Relationship, Fluff)

After the confrontation with Sanemi, Genya steals Tanjiro's haori because he likes the way it smells and it helps calm him down.

He doesn't want to address why that is, but when Tanjiro finds out, he doesn't give him much of a choice.

Tanjirou being Genya’s weak point, we all love it.

All Bark, No Bite by Rigmaroler, 92k

(Witch Tanjiro, Werewolf Genya, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Hurt/Comfort, Falling in Love, Worldbuilding, Fluff, Action/Adventure, Sharing a Bed)

When Tanjirou first sees the wolf, he only has one thought in his head. He sees it under the light of the moon, just bright enough for the wet blood in its dark gray pelt to shine. Its teeth are bared, white, sharp and long as each of Tanjirou’s fingers. Its growl is a low bass rumble that Tanjirou can practically feel in his bones, rattling his spine. Its muzzle is stained red with blood, and marred with a jagged scar that cuts through its dense fur.

Or: Tanjirou is a witch's apprentice with a bad habit of bringing home strays. Genya is a young man who's been called a monster so many times, he's started to believe it.

Genya letting himself to be loved, Tanjirou learning that he can also want things for himself. Just beautiful.

The hidden stairs (Red velvet flicker) by Wild_Quetzal, 4k

(Alternate Universe - Vampire, Horror, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, vampire!Shinazugawa Genya, Dubious Morality, Enemies to Lovers)

A couple of minutes later, Tanjirou is left in his chambers. The place is big and empty. Despite the cold temperature, Tanjirou pays it no mind. He presses his ear against the heavy wooden door, then he sniffs it. Nothing seems out of place. He’s truly alone.

What the old lady who gave him instructions told him echoes in his mind: “That man is no Count. He’s a thief.”

Tanjirou arrives at the castle looking for answers. His host will only give him more questions. What is Genya hiding?

Yes, it’s the self-promo part. We had werewolf Genya and now we have vampire Genya in some very gothic and dramatic romance.

[suzukiblu]

Been looking through your assorted aus page and the link for "weird amnesia Timberkon"/"for the game young" is broken (as in, the tag does not appear to exist). It seems like you put a lot of time into that page so I figured you'd want to know (and also selfishly I am very interested in finding out what weird amnesia timberkon entails)

WHOOPS, my bad, messed that one up. Should be all fixed on the page now, though! Oddly I only seem to have one teeny lil' snippet up for that AU, to my surprise, could've sworn I'd posted more? Sooooo as thanks for catching that busted link for me, have a nice big chunk of the WIP behind this read-more, hah.

So Superboy is apparently an idiot. Then again, whatever, if Bernard were an indestructible telekinetic half-alien he would probably also not worry too much about looking subtle in his civvies or maintaining a secret identity, and also it's been a while since he's heard anything about the guy doing any active superheroing anyway so maybe Superboy is just assuming that the entire planet somehow forgot about his teen heartthrob superhero posters and all those close-up high-def publicity shots of his very public face and whatever? Oh, and also that one time that he literally fucking died to save the whole freaking world and the big ol' memorial statue. Statues? There might've been two, come to think. 

So maybe an idiot. 

A very hot idiot, though. 

Well, whatever, Bernard figures, taking a sip of his boba tea and idly watching Superboy check out his boyfriend from the far side of the cafe like he's a sad puppy in a shop window who just wants a little love. Tim is looking at his phone and appears oblivious to Superboy's existence. 

Bernard assumes Tim's doing that thing where he pretends to not be Robin, for obvious reasons. That thing remains adorable but is getting increasingly less convincing as time goes on. Like, he really doesn't know what Tim actually thinks he thinks he does in his downtime? There is no logical reason for a civilian to be either as ripped or as scarred as Tim Drake is, but part of being Tim Drake's boyfriend is pretending to be oblivious to those facts and also never questioning his flimsy excuses to run off at a moment's notice or disappear during a crisis or whatever else. 

Bernard tries to figure out how to politely extricate himself from the situation for long enough for Tim to go check up on Superboy, because Superboy very clearly needs to be checked up on. Unfortunately he went to the bathroom like ten minutes before the guy walked in all sad-puppy so the obvious option is out, and Tim knows damn well he isn't gonna call his parents for anything less than a full-on emergency, and his friends it'd be weird not to just text, and . . . fuck, he doesn't know. He needs an angle here. 

"I'll be right back, babe, just gotta duck into the bathroom real quick," Tim says, glancing up from his phone with an apologetic smile. Bernard relaxes slightly. Okay, that works, thank you, Bat-planning. Superboy can just follow Tim back to the bathroom and they can do whatever superhero sidebar they need to do back there. 

But then Tim gets up, gives him a peck on the cheek, and heads back to the bathroom, and Superboy . . . doesn't follow him. 

The hell? 

Bernard represses a frown and takes another sip of his boba. Superboy continues not to follow Tim. He just sits there at his own little table with his completely untouched drink, looking like the saddest puppy that has ever sadded. 

Bernard is mystified. 

Are they having a fight, maybe? Is Tim ignoring Superboy because of that, not the secret ID stuff? That seems weird and not very Tim-like, fighting or not. But Superboy's in Gotham and came into the cafe after they did, so he can't be the one avoiding Tim. But also he didn't follow him to the bathroom when presented with the very unsubtle opportunity to do so, so . . . what the hell? 

Weird. 

Bernard takes yet another sip of boba and keeps watching Superboy. Superboy seems oblivious to said watching, but he guesses the guy is pretty famous and is a very public superhero and is always doing impressive shit and all that, so he's probably used to being watched. Oh, and also he's stupid, stupid hot. 

Bernard cannot imagine being this used to attention, but apparently Superboy is. Bernard, of course, is not a punk idol superhero built like a porn star and a supermodel had a threeway with a bodybuilder. So like, that particular bit of mental dissonance probably makes sense and all. Life experiences are not universal, and all that. 

Especially not when the life experience one is comparing oneself to started in a cloning tube. 

Well, it's not like it's a burden for Bernard to have a free pass on checking out a hottie while he waits for Tim to come back from, presumably, waiting for Superboy to come and talk to him. Which Superboy is just . . . not doing, still. Inexplicably. 

Still, sad puppy or not, Superboy's civvies look damn good on him, so that's something. Bernard's enjoying them, like as an aesthetic experience and everything. Superboy's wearing an unbuttoned red flannel shirt with rolled-up sleeves over a very tight black tank top and even tighter light wash skinny jeans that are bafflingly intact, considering the fact that a dude with Kryptonian-level super-strength is currently vacuum-sealed into them. 

Does tactile telekinesis work on skinny jeans? Is that a thing? Like, are Superboy's jeans currently indestructible? 

That sounds amazing, actually. 

Also, those buckled-up black leather boots he's wearing look like they could straight-up kill a dude, Kryptonian power-assist or not. And the shiny mirrored sunglasses and ridiculous multitude of even shinier gold piercings all suit the guy, somehow, and even without looking like too much. 

Relatedly, Superboy's tank top is very, very tight. 

Also relatedly, his nipples are apparently pierced. 

And so is his belly button, it looks like. 

Ngh. 

Superboy's vacuum-sealed jeans are not quite tight enough for Bernard to figure out if he's got any below the spike-studded belt piercings, but his imagination is happy to fill in the blanks there. He's tempted to ask for Tim's theories on the existence of any such piercings, because yeah Superboy has super-hearing but Bernard has no shame and Tim logically should know, buuuuut he's still pretending not to know Tim is Robin so yeah, probably he shouldn't do that. 

He could start a new conspiracy board for it, maybe. That'd be fun. 

Superboy also has leather cuffs on his wrists and mismatched rings and necklaces and a really hot fade haircut that is noticeably windswept, and really, really looks like something that Bernard would like to see somebody dig their fingers into. Just–look, there's curls. Bernard cannot be blamed for curls. 

And he's trying not to eye the cuff bracelets too much, but they provide very nice inspiration for a certain style of kinky thoughts. Not that Superboy couldn't snap basically any set of cuffs that wasn't made of kryptonite or promethium or like a magical kryptonite-promethium alloy or whatever without even trying, obviously, but like, somehow the thought of the guy having to restrain himself more than anything else makes the whole mental image hotter? Like, somehow? 

Bernard pictures Superboy wearing a pair of cheap flimsy sex toy handcuffs and trying very, very hard to keep himself in them while someone else takes very careful inventory of all his piercings, wherever and whatever they all just so happen to be. 

Jesus. Yeah, there's a thought. 

Is it weird to consider flirting up your boyfriend's superhero bestie while he's badly pretending to be a civilian, Bernard wonders? Is that a thing? 

Probably, but he still has no shame and is also in an open relationship, so whatever. 

Hell, who knows, in retrospect maybe Tim actually arranged this setup specifically for Bernard to get an eyeful of his work crush. Like, Bernard always felt like Robin and Superboy had some significant UST going back in the day. Maybe Tim wants to finally do something about that, and the setup idea sounds like a very "Bat" approach to doing said something. And it'd explain why Superboy didn't follow Tim to the bathroom and maybe even why he's coming across kind of anxious right now, if he's trying to psych himself up to come over or something. Like, if he's nervous about making a good impression, though Bernard cannot imagine why he ever would be. Well, not like Supers are known for their undercover skills, so . . . 

Either way, if that's the plan, Bernard is very fine with it, so he decides to go find out for himself and picks up his drink to head over and chat the guy up. Worst case scenario, he’s just gotten his hopes up a little, he figures. Best case, he’s putting Superboy out of his “oh god, how do I do undercover” misery. 

"Mind if I sit?" he asks, and flashes Superboy a grin as he gestures at the empty seat at the other half of his table. Superboy looks weirdly startled, like he somehow expected to go unnoticed despite being a literal superhero who is also unspeakably hot and is also wearing very, very tight clothes that he's this close to busting out of. Like, at least half a dozen girls are actively checking him out right now, as is the dude behind the counter and the old guy on the sidewalk outside who’s busy badly pretending to be reading the outdoor menu board instead of checking out Superboy’s ass through the front window. 

So yeah, Bernard really does not understand that apparent assumption. 

Come to think, maybe Superboy has some self-esteem issues or something. Bernard admittedly might also have self-esteem issues if he were Superman's clone. Then again, if he were Superman's clone, he would look like Superman and also be very aware of how Superman himself looks, sooooo . . . 

Seriously, "younger and sexier punk rock Superman" is not a vibe that Bernard can imagine going ignored all that often. Or ever. 

“Uh–what?” Superboy says. 

“I’ve been temporarily abandoned by my boyfriend and I’m easily bored,” Bernard clarifies politely, though obviously Superboy was staring at Tim long enough to have noticed said abandonment the moment it happened. “So, mind if I sit?” 

“I–sure?” Superboy says, looking nervous. Bernard puts another tally in the “too bad at undercover work to follow the Bat-plan” column. Whatever, the guy’s trying his best, he’s not gonna judge him. 

There's a pin on the inside of Superboy’s flannel, Bernard notices as the other shifts awkwardly in his seat, and is vaguely puzzled by the sight of it. Like, it's just a little thing and he doubts he'd have even seen it if he weren't in this close to the guy, but . . . 

Just–yeah. Little pin. Just like a cheap little round button, like the kind that comes out of the dollar bin at all sorts of random stores. And it's hidden inside Superboy's flannel, mostly, but it's definitely got the S-shield on it. 

Bernard is perplexed. Even in Gotham, it's not like it's weird to see people wearing Superman merch. So like, why is Superboy hiding that?

“Cool,” he says as he files that away as a little oddity, and takes the empty seat. Superboy continues to look nervous. Bernard continues to work on figuring out if his weird Bat-boyfriend who he’s not supposed to know is a Bat set him up on a blind date with his superhero bestie. The nervousness supports the theory, anyway. 

Man, this dude really is even prettier up close. How was he Tim’s bisexual awakening with this guy around and in close quarters with him? Like, he’s flattered, don’t get him wrong, but also maybe Tim has some vision problems and he should get that checked out before it inconveniences his nightlife. 

"Sooooo like . . . what do I call you?" Bernard asks, peering across the table at him curiously. "Because the obvious option seems like a bad idea, obviously.” 

"‘The obvious option’?" Superboy stops looking nervous long enough to look confused instead. 

"Yeah?" Bernard says, cocking his head. Superboy cannot possibly think he’s being subtle here, so . . . "I mean, I assume you don't go by 'Superboy' when you're dressed like that. Like, that's the whole point of being dressed like that, right?" 

Superboy stares blankly at him. Bernard cocks his head the other way, now officially the confused one. 

"What?" Superboy says. 

"Okay, sorry, this is the thing where you-know-who still insists on pretending he's not Robin, isn't it," Bernard realizes, which he really should've realized would be a thing from the start. He supposes that makes sense even with Superboy’s total lack of subtlety, though, superheroes probably do have to really commit to that thing. Especially ones who work for Batman and Superman. Or . . . just around Superman, maybe? Bernard is not fully clear on that particular superhero hierarchy. "My bad. So, uh, what do I call you, because there is obviously no obvious option. Obviously.” 

"You . . . recognize me?" Superboy croaks. 

"Uh," Bernard says, brow furrowing in bemusement at the very weird expression the guy's currently wearing. "Yes? No offense, you're kind of recognizable. Like, do you even have a secret identity? I mean, you're a clone, right, and I know you were just doing the full-time hero thing in at least Hawaii, so I actually have no idea if you ever bothered making one up or not?” 

"You recognize me," Superboy chokes, just staring at him, and then bursts into tears. 

. . . well, that can't be good.

[martsonmars]

Thanks for the tags @monbons @hushed-chorus and @whatevertheweather. I'm back and it's pick a WIP Sunday!

I really want to get back into writing Snowbaz and participating actively in the fandom. I don't exactly have more free time but I did graduate and I am technically on holiday until October, so let's try.

So I'm sharing snippets from 6 WIPs and maybe I'll be inspired to finish one of them. Help me out!!!!

1. Where Baz is a different blood sucking creature than usual. Prince and the frog but the prince is just a guy and the frog is trying to steal your blood.

The heat would be more than sufficient to make Simon reconsider all of his life choices. Give up on meat. Never touch plastic again. He'd do anything.

But no, clearly whatever sin he's committed—was it writing Jesus/Judas fanfiction when he was 15? It wasn't even explicit!—was enough to condemn him to this.

2. Holiday with the Grimms, where Simon and Baz share a bed in the same room as Malcolm and Daphne.

“Sorry I haven't delivered to my father an updated list of all the cocks I've sucked.” He wasn't smiling, but I could hear the smirk in his voice. The fake smugness. I know he's sucked half a cock (half sucked one cock?) and it was quite a disaster. “He doesn't know how deeply my virtue has already been fucked.”

I still snort at the thought. (The answer is not deeply at all.)

3. TA Simon and Baz showing up to class in a slutty Blackbeard cosplay.

I don't need a complaint for assault (let alone sexual assault) to drive my doctorate even farther away from my grasp.

I just need Grimm-Pitch to leave my classroom and come back wearing proper trousers before my overworked brain cells decide to go on permanent strike. (I'm not sure they haven't deserted me already.)

More snippets and tags under the cut!

4. Where Baz is a dryad and Simon is a woodcutter.

Simon didn't know many things, but he was pretty sure that pines weren't pretty men with long dark hair and pouty lips. Of course, Simon had never seen a man with dark green skin before, either, but he resembled a man more than a pine.

“You are not a pine. You're a man,” Simon voiced his scepticism, and he was rewarded with one more pine cone hitting his forehead. If nothing, the tree man had an impeccable aim.

5. Secret concept for this one.

Tucked in a corner as if he was trying to make himself seem smaller, yet he's got my attention like the masterpiece in a museum. Even the dim light of the pizzeria is enough to imagine the shine of his bronze curls under the summer sun. He's pale and freckled, broad and solid. Sturdy like the old table in my living room. I can perfectly see how he'd fit there, between a stack of Spinoza's complete works and the cabinet where my grandmother's Capodimonte porcelain sits unused. His back to the floor-to-ceiling window that opens on the terrace, surrounded by the bright halo of the hours before sunset. Bright like a Michelangelo in a room that's all Caravaggio.

6. This one I'm going to continue for sure when inspiration strikes, so it's not part of pick a WIP Sunday. It's maybe guess the WIP Sunday in this case.

“Sounds like you could use a break,” his deep voice says from a corner of the hall, as if he's read my mind. I see a pair of long legs first—legs for miles—crossing the room towards me, wrapped in a pair of trousers so tight I can't help but wonder how he'll take them off. (Not that I'm thinking of Baz without trousers.) (I mean, I've seen him without trousers. He wears chitons most of the time.) (He also wears really short shorts.) (I just mean I'm not thinking about taking his trousers off.) (Just. I mean.)

Tags!! No pressure just saying hi because I miss you all!!!

@facewithoutheart @sillyunicorn @onepintobean @shrekgogurt @wellbelesbian @palimpsessed @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @forabeatofadrum @fatalfangirl @cutestkilla @ileadacharmedlife @bookish-bogwitch @artsyunderstudy @orange-peony @larkral @raenestee @stitchyqueer @technetiumai @brilla-brilla-estrellita @thewholelemon @theimpossibledemon @j-nipper-95 @imagineacoolusername @blackberrysummerblog @theearlgreymage @rimeswithpurple @messofthejess @alexalexinii @nightimedreamersworld @captain-aralias @jbrrring @prettygoododds @youarenevertooold @best--dress @theotherhufflepuff @run-for-chamo-miles @valeffelees @dragoneggos @gekkoinapeartree @ionlydrinkhotwater @erzbethluna @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @shemakesmeforget @basiltonbutliketheherb @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @aristocratic-otter @noblecorgi

[alienoresimagines]

WIP Tag

Thank you to @nicijones @luckydeuce @sleepr-agent420 @rambleonwaywardson and @onyxsboxes for the tag ❤️ Taking the opportunity to introduce a new wip, a bit of an angsty piece for the Wota Halloween Event (Whumptober edition) 🥰 All I'll say is that Gale's first mission doesn't go as planned ;)

Keeping up the masquerade for two, John walks past him with a smile so fake it hurts, and claps his hand to Gale’s shoulder as he goes.

“Too early for a conversation anyway; I forgot what I wanted to say.” His chirping tone fades away as his steps skid to a stop, almost sending Gale toppling over him.

“Just-” John cuts himself off then, turning sideways to meet his eyes, looking like the words are stuck in his throat and he isn’t sure whether to say or swallow them. His Adam's apple bobs up and down once, and John’s hand meets his elbow in a light touch that still burns right through Gale as John’s gaze pins him in place.

“Be careful up there, yeah? There’ll be plenty of chaos once you hit enemy territory but you’re a good pilot. Trust in that.” 

Gale blinks owlishly, stomach sinking. This is only the tip of the iceberg of what’s been bothering John, and it’s enough to tell him whatever those missions are, they’re worse than what he and John had imagined. Still, the knot in his stomach seems to loosen a bit at the reassurance, the evidence of John’s trust in him never failing to light a comforting fire within.

“A good pilot, uh?” This time, a genuine smile pulls at John’s lips and his eyes soften despite the worry still dancing in the blue. His hand closes more firmly around Gale’s arm, squeezing once.

“Best pilot I’ve ever met, Buck. One Engine Cleven, can fly circles around any of us.”

Np tagging to @amiserableseriesofevents @majorbuckyegan @middlingmay @happy-days19 @soliloquy-dawn

@wayrad @onyxsboxes @nicijones @swifty-fox @valstarsandgalaxies if they want to ❤️

[boolger]

The werewolves of Stonemill ☆2☆ COD

[Chapter 1] ☆ [chapter 2]

MDNI ☆ MDNI☆ MDNI ☆ MDNI ☆ MDNI☆ MDNI ☆ MDNI

(These first two chapters aren't too dark, so they will be posted here. The rest of the fic will only be updated on A03)((unless I decide something else))

☆ Fem!reader x Poly!TF141☆ explicit ☆ wip ☆ 2/12 ☆ 2.7k words.

☆summary: You had been living your best life in Stonemill for a little over half a decade by now. A lone shewolf living in the town and working at the local bar, surrounded by a lush nature to roam through at night, a perfect piece of Paradise in Montana. A place you DO'NT want to share with any other werewolves. So, when a group of men turns up, buying a big house and stinking of alpha werewolves, you're territory is threatened - and these men doesn't seem to get it into their thick heads, that they need to leave. In fact, the assholes become rather interested in you, trying to get you to join their pack. You just want them to leave, one way or another - but it seems like they won't take no for an answer.

☆tags: Dead dove don't eat, werewolves, mention of graphic violence, dark!141, poly!141, afab!reader, omegaverse, dub-con, non-con, werewolf AU, foursomes, fivesomes, heat, scenting, hunting, killing animals, chubby reader, forced bonding, kidnapping, non-con touching, non-con drug use.

(These first two chapters aren't too dark, so they will be posted here. The rest of the fic will only be updated on A03)

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

“Fae!” 

Luna barely made it inside the bar before she was yelling your name, making you jump at the sight of your friend, almost spilling the beer, worried for just a second - until you saw her grin. Oh, that kind of grin meant she had news, or well, gossip to be more exact.

You finished filling up the glass for one of the regulars, smiling at the older gentleman who went back to watch some sort of sport show at the small television in the corner with the others. 

“Faefaefae-” Luna didn’t even stop, almost crawling over the desk, as you gave her shoulder a gentle tap.

“Calm down,” you said, before turning around and getting her a bottle of sparkling water as you knew she preferred, “tell me then, what is so important that you’re screaming my name?”

Technically it was just your nickname, but those tended to stick in this town. Not that you minded. First halloween in Stonemill, where you dressed up as a fairy and your fate was sealed. 

“Somebody bought the Johnson family house,” her voice was in a dramatic whisper, eyes wide, “full price even.”

That did make you pause and blink. The Johnson family house was at the edge of the town and had, in fact, been owned by said family for generations - until the last one, who ended up being the only family member left, elderly and without kids of her own. Miss Johnson had tried selling the house for years, but Stonemill wasn’t well known, nor was a lot of people interested in buying a giant house that needed well, a lot of love. In the time you had lived there, Miss Johnson had lowered the price three times.

“Full original price?”

Luna nodded, like an excited pup.

“- And Miss Johnson?”

“Over the moon! She got enough money to get that lil two bedroom apartment near the Franks and Hales, and there won’t be any stairs there and enough space for her to use her walker too.”

You felt yourself smile. You weren’t close with Miss Johnson in any way, but it was hard not to know each other at least vaguely in a town like this. She was a big part of the elderly community but after falling about a decade ago, she had struggled with chairs - moving closer to the other elders would be good for her. 

“That’s good, bless her heart,” you answered, “I’m really happy - do you know who bought it?”

“Yes! well, no I don't but–”

“- but you heard gossip?”

“Excuse you,” Luna touched her chest with a mocking, horrified expression, her red curls almost bouncing “I am a good christian woman, I never gossip.” You rolled your eyes as you picked up a glass, beginning to clean it.

“Tell me then, oh great Christian woman, what didn’t you hear then?”

“Well, Miss Johnson said that it was a lot of handsome strange men,” the words made you frown but Luna merely waved her hand at you, “yeah, I was confused too, but I talked to the couple that lives nearby and the guy said that it’s a group of four men, all veterans, apparently used to be a squad.”

“That doesn’t make them weird–”

“They’re British, Fae.”

“... Ah. I see Miss Johnson’s point.”

“Anyways - neighbor said he is pretty sure some of them is gay, but his wife said it probably wasn’t all of them and that we shouldn’t judge, but that they all seemed very polite and nice, but that they probably wanted to come here to retire, ya’ know?”

“Luna,” you took a deep breath, having to stop yourself from pinching the bridge of your nose, “how do you even know all of this?”

“Mailman - and the butcher.”

“Hah. Of course.” you wanted to roll your eyes at the ridiculousness of the entire situation.

“BUT! you know what this means, Fae?” She almost lit up again and you raised an eyebrow, putting the glass away. 

“That we’re officially 154 town folks now?”

“Yes! SO! New people to date!” Luna sounded incredibly proud of herself.

“I - Luna you’re a lesbian,” you pointed out, your friend just rolling her eyes, grin not faltering for a moment, “It’s not for me, you idiot! For you!”

You wanted to deny that the thought didn’t catch your interest. Your cheeks felt warm and though you let out a huff, trying to not seem bothered, both you and Luna knew it was a lie. One of the regulars, further down the bar giggled at the two of you and you sent him a stern look.

Why did they care about your dating life? It bothered you. 

Looking back at Luna, her head resting in her hands, freckles standing in a stark contrast to her sunburnt skin, her green eyes shining in the unnatural light of the bar.

“No.”

“Ya’ haven’t even seen ‘em!” Arguing with Luna, on a night like this, where she was full of energy, had been out in her garden half the day without enough sunscreen, was almost impossible; after several years of knowing her, you knew that. Yet, here you were.

“Neither have you, dipshit.” A part of you wished that there would appear more thirsty bar goers, just so you wouldn’t have to defend your singleness. Finding a partner that wasn’t a wolf and wouldn’t ask too many questions was tough to say the least. At the same time, finding a partner who was a wolf, meant letting another wolf, a stranger, into your territory. The urge to gag overwhelmed you for a moment.

“But-”

“No - now, do ya’ wanna talk about something other than planning my dating life?”

The ginger pouted.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Hours passed, you returned home from your shift at the bar, taking the usual walk home, smelling slightly of beer and cigarettes as always. It was like a rhythm that had settled in your body after living here half a decade.

Cars passed, lights illuminating your body for mere seconds, a person or two greeting you as you passed them, wishing you a good night. Stonemill was considered a rather safe place. There was the occasional bar brawl, but they were often nice enough to take it outside and figure it out on their own. 

Whenever you walked home on nights like these, bathed in the last colors of the sunset, you liked to imagine you were in a music video, like the ones you grew up watching repeatedly on youtube.

The thoughts of the newcomers had drowned in your mind, by another local drama, then by a heartbroken lady who came in not too long after Luna had annoyed you about being single.

No, you just enjoyed the air, much nicer than the big city air you had grown up with. 

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

It was two days later when you stepped out of your door, to go get groceries, that the scent in the air made you physically gag - gripping the door frame, to stop yourself from falling over. 

Wolves.

There were fucking wolves in the area. Strangers, in your fucking territory. 

How dare they?? For a non-human, it was clear that this area was yours - you made sure of that, making sure it stank of your scent. You rubbed your muzzle against house corners, against trees, hell you pissed several places on the regular, too. 

You had to close your eyes, breathing through your mouth for a couple of seconds, building up your courage to take another sniff. You needed to know who the hell this was, how many, whether they were alphas, betas or omegas like you.

You took a deep breath, this time with your nose, wrinkling it at the scent. It stank of alphas, definitely more than one, if you had to guess by the mixed scents.

Right. You wetted your teeth with your tongue, the urge to let your wolf form free overwhelming for a second. To find the intruders, as quickly as possible, attack them, show them that this place wasn't open for them. Groceries afterwards.

Hopefully it was just a pack passing by, though they had definitely been in the area for a couple of hours, if the potent scent was anything to go by.

Following your nose wasn’t quite like following the maps app on your phone. It forced you to use an instinct you mostly used when hunting. It was like the world  around you didn't matter, though you tried not to look too weird as you sniffed your way towards the unknown goal. Smiling and greeting as familiar faces passed you, either on foot or in their cars.

The house at the edge of the town was a dull green color, worn by the weather by the years, begging to be fixed - but it needed more than just a new paint job for the house to look nice again. It was a fixer upper, as Luna had described it once. With the stream nearby and the forest curling into the backyard, it was a big and beautiful house, where a big family could live. Usually you wouldn’t even be hesitant to get close, because Miss Johnson would always be sitting in the window, watching the street - waving at you with her boney fingers and big grin, her little poodle always next to her.

No more.

The scent was overwhelming, even as you stood around 20 metres away. A big truck was in the driveway, getting unloaded by several big men. They were chatting among themselves and you didn’t need to be a genius, to know that these men were the ones mentioned by Luna. British veterans. 

Hiding behind a tree wasn't your proudest moment, but you needed to be able to look at them in peace, just for a bit.

Tall, all four of them, clearly strong as they easily carried the bigger furniture pieces and moving boxes. Some of the neighbors were helping, chatting. One of the loudest of them wasn’t even British, if the Scottish accent was anything to go by as he chattered away. He wore a knee-brace, blue shorts and black t-shirt, hair in a fucking mohawk. A big grin as he argued to another one of them that it was his knee, not his arms that were broken, as he took another box.

The one who looked worried - or well, his upper half of his face looked worried - was wearing a black facemask, short clipped dark blonde hair, scars littered all over his body and face. A pair of pants and long sleeve shirt, despite the warmth. You couldn’t hear what he said exactly, drowned out by all the other voices and noise from their moving.

A black man appeared, wearing a cap with the british flag - and the prettiest face you had seen for a long time. Smiling politely as their neighbor asked about something, wearing a gray t-shirt that was a tad too tight on his arms and a pair of long shorts. You already knew all the housewives and older ladies were going to try to marry off their daughters to him.

Then, finally, the last stranger appeared. 

He wore a boonie hat of all things, t-shirt too but an open flannel over it that was folded up to his elbows, exposing his tattooed arms. He was big too, but looked much older - mostly due to the beard that looked like it had stepped out from a history book.

The wind had been hitting your face, letting their scents come to your hiding spot. Alpha. All fucking alpha, potent with their wolf scent, which meant they had probably changed yesterday. 

The urge to create a scene, to snarl at them, humans be damned and get them off your territory was overwhelming.

At once, the wind changed. Before you realized, it was too late, the wind curling along your short hair.

The man with the beard was the first one to quickly turn his head, your gazes instantly meeting as he sniffed the air. Fuck. As if on cue, the three others froze, their faces instantly turning towards you too, but you were stuck in some sort of staring contest with the first man.

The moment he grinned, like he knew something you didn’t, you slipped away into the slim alleyways of the two houses near you, escaping to the back of the enclosed gardens, away from the gazes of the four alpha wolves. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to fight you did - but it wasn’t the right time.

You barely remembered what you bought in the grocery store - bringing home the oddest mixture of things that you didn’t care about either. You barely ate, just sat around your house… waiting.

Watching the sun going lower and lower on its travel across the sky.

It was dark when your wolf had you get up, howling and snarling in your mind, begging you to let her come out, so that you could go to the house and scare the alphas off.

But you didn’t. Reason with them, you told yourself, try communicating before going directly to violence… Besides, the more logical part of you feared not winning the fight. Your wolf didn’t particularly like the idea of communicating.

Pulling on your boots, your thick jacket since it was cold and you weren’t - hopefully - going to shift, you needed to keep your warmth. A dark knitted beanie pulled down to your ears, a scarf and you were off. You didn’t look scary, you knew that. You were smaller than them, chubby and had short hair, but according to Luna, a mean stare. Your wolf form was more dangerous with her teeth, but alas.

You didn’t go through the town this time, foregoing the usual streets, in the hopes of not catching unwanted attention. Instead you crossed through the forest, the trip a little longer, but the scents familiar and shadows easier to hide in.

The closer you got to the Johnson Family house, that wasn’t the Johnson Family house anymore, the more their scent began to return, making you wrinkle your nose - and this time a small growl left you.

Minutes passed as you calmly walked in between the trees, knowing the place like the back of your hand. Maybe you ran your bare fingers along a couple of trees, to leave a little more scent behind, who knew.

It took a little while, time almost slowing down the closer you got. As you got closer, you began to mind your sounds, trying to be as quiet as possible. It was easier in your wolf form, but you made due, making it to the stream in their backyard - you didn’t cross it, keeping it between you, since it would give you a good head start, in case it was needed.

You stood there for a moment, watching the usual dark windows, lit up, picking up the vague sound of laughter and moving. For a moment, just a short moment, you imagined what it would be like to have your own pack. To have somebody to rely on, someone to spend your life with, to run free with, letting your wolves free and enjoying nature. The next moment, you wanted to hit yourself for even thinking about it.

You let out a little howl, giving away your position, letting them know you were near. Everything stopped within the house. Only because of your non-human genes, you were able to hear rough talking, though you couldn’t pick out the words. You waited. A few moments later, the backdoor opened and you braced yourself, ready to turn and run for your life in case it was wolves that barged out.

Instead it was the man with the beard, hat forgotten in the house, bare feet and a hurriedly put on leather jacket. His eyes ran over the garden, before it landed on you.

The stench from the house of male alphas hit you like a brick wall, but you stood quietly, waiting, even as the anger grew inside of you with every second that passed.

The man turned towards you, having the audacity to grin at you as he stepped down from the wooden back porch, down towards the stream.

God you wanted to rip his throat out.

[prev]

[imagineitdearies]

Hey I loved loved loved your fanfiction as I’m sure everyone here did but now I, going through withdrawals I can’t find anything similar or as good as yours. So I’m curious what your favourite bg3 fanfiction are?

Hey there!! Awww, thank you ☺️ I sort of got super focused on writing PS for a while there, so I can't say I know of all The GreatsTM in this fandom. I will share what I have enjoyed/am currently reading though (almost all of it involving Astarion), but anyone else should feel free to add your favs in the comments!!

As always, please check tags and read at your own discretion!

Finished ones I've enjoyed:

Seducere by Tlon ~ Astarion/nb!Tav ~ Astarion doesn’t need a reflection to know himself – two hundred years of servitude has shown him exactly what he’s good for. Odd that his new partner seems to disagree.

Nothing is safe by foxflowering ~ Wyll/Astarion ~ "Wyll's the sort of prince-type I would have once dreamed of marrying. When I was about thirteen."

Carving through the dark by skitter ~ Astarion/f!Tav ~ Wren and Astarion descend into the Underdark in search of a new purpose, and learn a few things along the way. Namely, that healing isn't linear and sometimes love takes the long way round.

Astarion Origin Party Nonsense by starkraving ~ Astarion/Karlach; Astarion/Cazador, sort of Astarion/Wyll? ~ A collection of things that ostensibly happen in the same little mental universe. Loosely based on the events of an Origin Astarion run and the various questions it inspired. (All but one in the series is finished so I'm counting it, lol!)

All Our Missing Parts by Viraaja ~ Astarion/Halsin ~ Halsin discovers Astarion was turned before his maturity and all the sacred elven rites that come along with it. Including the sex one.

Friday Nights by SadinaSaphrite ~ Astarion/Gale ~ Professor Gale Dakarios loses his research, his magic, and his lover Mystra all at once and only has himself to blame. When he goes to drown his sorrows, he meets a pale stranger with mysteries of his own.

visions of your love by LargeOctahedron, notyournoise ~ Shadowheart/f!Tav ~ Shadowheart is tired of doubting - of feeling her heart twist whenever she looks at Tav without knowing whether they feel the same. One night, tired of sitting and hoping Tav will approach, she tries to read their mind, only to find them in a rather compromising position.

WIPs I'm following:

Palmarosa by thespectaclesofthor ~ Astarion/Raphael ~ Astarion is stuck in the darkness once more, yearning for sunlight with every fibre of his being, while bitterly reflecting on all the things that were denied to him. Raphael knows Astarion's desperate, and comes to him with not one, but two horrid contract offers that Astarion loathes and dreads in equal measure - but the prize at the end of both are too good to turn down.

To Defy the Gods by ~ Shadowheart/Tav ~ Dark Justiciar. Mother Superior. Shar's Voice Made Flesh. Her Chosen. Shadowheart had emptied her heart of falsehoods, of the illusion of life and love, and accepted the inevitability of loss. Almost.

A Dog's Retreat by ~ Halsin & Astarion, past Astarion/Cazador ~ For most, it was just the end of the Absolute. For Astarion, it was the end of two hundred years of agony. And the transition is steep and slippery. Now, all he can do is hope that there are enough pieces of him left for him to pick up and somehow put back together. Too bad hope has never been Astarion’s poison of choice.

A Warm House, A Ruddy Fire by DepravedJJJSchmidt ~ trans!Astarion/Cazador, trans!Astarion/m!Tav ~ Mr. and Mrs. Cazador Szarr have an ideal marriage. Astarion doesn't know if he will be able to survive another year of it. (And I don't know if I'll survive another chapter tbh, but like a burning building I can't look away 😬)

Alright, that's all I can think of! I'm a bit distracted all over again thanks to the original novel I'm working on now, but hopefully you find something new on this list you end up enjoying 🩵 this fandom is full of so many talented people!!

[jojissalsa]

here are some wips i'm desperately trying to finish! (if you're curious ;P)

✔️ + a link = a finished WIP!

also if you wanna be tagged in any of these when they come out, please let me know by commenting, sending an ask or dming me :) i'd be happy to! <3

✞ Vendetta Leon:

‪‪❤︎‬ Pretty When I Cry:

☆ summary: you find out leon cheated on you with ada, and with that comes denying him of any kinds of affection. until he takes matters into his own hands, leon knows how to fix his pretty girl ;)

You couldn't believe it when you found out, you knew Leon could get distant. But finding that stupid fucking teddy bear keychain that woman gave him was enough to start a fight between you two, let alone the date offer tucked inside. How sweet. You thought that was it, when it initially happened. A quick spat when you found it a couple days after he came home from that horrid mission, and then some makeup sex. God, you wished that was all it was. All it amounted to. That was until you saw the keychain again, for some odd reason. Even more odd when curiosity got the better of you, and you unzipped it again. Empty.

‪‪❤︎‬ ✔️ And if you were my little girl:

☆ summary: you've never been close to your dad on a surface level way, or even in a deep way. but after he finds out some of your illicit activities, you guys share your deep, twisted ways <3

Leon’s been single for a while, and ugly girls like you have been ugly for a while. And he looks at you like an ugly girl. Tells you not to get tattoos, shit like that. Like it's still the 50s. Probably because that's the only time he could get pussy. That's why he treats you like shit, and why you and him are addicted to sex. It's all you do ever since you turned 18. And you clean up nice enough. But deep down you're still an ugly girl. What's that saying? Lipstick on a pig. That's really who you are.

❤︎ Anything you Like:

☆ summary: you're excited to meet your new stepdad, and he seems like a great guy. unlike you, who definitely has some issues. good thing leon has a fix for that ;)

Your mom finally got a new man. You're pretty happy about it, really because she is. You're not excited in the slightest to actually meet the guy, just because your mom is happy doesn't mean the guy isn't as bad as your dad. She didn't really learn her lesson after him, sure, she was smart enough to get a divorce, condemn him for all the shit he put you two through. but the damage was already done, honestly. At least the daddy issues make you cute? They don't. They make you so fucking depraved, and in a way it kinda concerns you. The porn you look at, the guys you fuck, you know it's probably some deep seated issues, but it doesn't make any of it less hot.

✿ Death Island Leon:

❤︎ Give you the world:

☆ summary: leon works way too hard, and of course the years of trauma still cause those pesky nightmares. thank god you're there for him, and you don't mind it at all.

“You don’t need to tell me, you know I just wanna help.” You sigh, your hand making lazy circles on his toned stomach. “You go through so much, too much if I’m being honest.” Leon chuckles, a pink hue starting to dust his cheeks. “Hey! I’m being serious. If it were up to me, I’d give you the whole world. You really deserve it, Leon..” You prop yourself up on your elbows, a puppy love look in your eyes that you know looks only a tad obsessive. Leon doesn’t answer for a moment, just letting his wide smile speak his mind as his hand comes up to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. You sigh and nuzzle your cheek against his palm, your hand slowly making its way to the waistband of his sweats. “Can I? Wanna take your mind off it.” You murmur against his palm, that sweet look in your eyes making him blush even harder.

❤︎ Lipstick Stains:

☆ summary: it was small at first, but it's always the small things with leon. they always drive him crazy, eating away at the sane part of his brain and just making him wanna be around you all the time. maybe it's a side effect of marriage?

He was fine seeing it at first, seeing the smudges of your lipstick on the glasses that he’d clean in the sink or throwing away napkins colored the same rouge in certain spots. He’d just ignore the chill that’d run down his spine when the thought of that same rouge being trailed across his neck would pass. It's just lipstick, is he a teenager?

❆ Re4 Remake Leon:

❤︎ A Girl can Dream (Part 1)

☆ summary: you work closely with ada wong, and leon knows a thing or two about mercenaries. they love to cause trouble.

Leon knew you looked familiar, from the moment he saw you in line at boarding to the second you sat next to him. He also knew you could both feel something. Physical attraction? Nah, he would never get close to another woman like Ada, too many secrets. You on the other hand? You were dying at the chance to run into his arms like a giggling teenage girl, looking at the window as you absentmindedly twirl your hair on your finger. You really don’t wanna pay him much more attention, partly because he’s insanely distracting, mainly because you know he would reject you in a heartbeat. No way a guy like him is single, right? A girl can dream.

𖦹 Re2 Remake Leon:

❤︎ All Mine:

☆ summary: leon's affection has always been nice. but he also has the power to deprive you of it entirely. and when that happens, you can't help but go insane.

You don’t even know what really drives this affinity you have for him, sure, he is definitely a looker. No debate about that. You’d run in front of incoming traffic just to be near him. But why? He’s nice, funny, drives a nice car, you both have a lot in common. But there really is something about Leon Kennedy, that puppy faced freak, that really fucks with your brain chemistry. The way he touches you, it’s confident yet tender. Well, it was at first. It had that tinge of gentleness, like you were a gorgeous porcelain doll that deserved so much care, but he could be rough with you in the most enticing way possible. He would choke you ever so slightly just so he could kiss you deeper, feel your tongue against his, like he needed to remind you of who makes you shudder like that. It was addicting, having that kind of affection that made your brain all syrupy and nonfunctioning.

☁︎ Infinite Darkness Leon:

❤︎ Dangerous Game (Part 2):

☆ summary: now that you're settled in, it's your turn to babysit leon. and you're making it much more difficult to focus when you talk like that.

Suddenly you're getting an incoming call from Leon, and you're kicking yourself when you feel your face heat up. “Hey there, Agent Kennedy. Need anything from me?” There you go again, still not using his name. Such a tease. He tries not to roll his eyes when he notices your smug smirk already.

❤︎ A Girl can Dream (Part 2):

☆ summary: ada has taught you so well, you know when to give up and help leon out when he needs it. that doesn't mean you shouldn't get a reward for it though, right?

You repress a yelp as he pushes you against the desk, his face barely illuminated from the glow of the chandelier in the hallway. "Enough with the teasing," You nearly shiver at how stern he sounds, but you've always been good at poker faces. "I've got a job to do, and it'd be wonderful if you'd shut your mouth and help me out here." Leon's voice is hot against your neck, his large hands gripping your hips, keeping you against him. "And what do I get out of that? You gotta make it worth my time, Kennedy,"

(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ please be patient with me as i finish these! life has been a rollercoaster lately, but making fanfics and writing about leon will always be a passion of mine, so it's not going anywhere anytime soon!

[artemis-entreri]

Hey y'all! As some of you have noticed, I'm not really in the fandom anymore, so I might as well make it official with this post. There wasn't anything that caused it, I just became more interested in other things. I made a Redbubble with some of my Artemis Entreri/Jarlaxle/Jartemis art that you can buy as merch, which includes the above images as well as some others:

You can find my other art in this tag: My LoD Art

If you like my art enough to follow me into other franchises, here's a link to all of my art accounts.

I'm still happy to try to help with Forgotten Realms and Legend of Drizzt questions, but I will no longer be keeping up to date about either, so you'll mostly be tapping into my knowledge about past stuff. In LoD's case, it seems that the book series has come to an end, as there doesn't appear to be any contracts for new trilogies presently, but who knows if that'll change in the future. For FR, your best bet is to get information from the sources directly, as that was what I'd use to stay updated. I recommend these places for asking questions:

Forgotten Realms Wiki: Hands down the best resource for anything Forgotten Realms related. Comprehensive and thorough, it is maintained by a small dedicated group of fans, and it's so good that official FR creatives reference it.

Candlekeep Forum: While the layout is certainly retro, it continues to contain the most knowledgeable and passionate Realms afficionados.

Greenwood's Grotto Discord Server: This is Ed Greenwood, the creator of the Forgotten Realms', official Discord server. It is curated by a passionate group of Greenwood fans and produces FR content regularly featuring the archmage himself.

Forgotten Realms Discord Server: Smaller and less active than Greenwood's Grotto, but less likely that your question will get scrolled past without anyone noticing it.

Forgotten Realms Reddit: I've not used this particular sub much myself, but the large member base means that it's probably a good resource for crowdsourcing answers.

I still have a lot of WIPs of both fics and art in this fandom that I may finish up and post later, it's hard to say. I guess we'll just have to see!

[evilminji]

OKAY. *slams open door in manic about to have opinions*

MAYBE i am binging so, SO much unhinged bnha fics? Have already sent this to all my mutual and is not ENOUGH? But everyone is focused on these BABIES and not the MOST unhinged of them all? You COWARDS!!!

That's RIGHT! Ya girl has been hitting the "yandere/obsessive/possessive" behavior tag on Ao3 and is REFUSING TO BE NORMAL ABOUT IT! I have THOUGHTS DAMN IT! AaaaaaaaaaAAAAAA-!!! *Flips table*

Why the FUCK everyone focusing on BABIES?

I get it, don't yuck someone else's yum. To each their own. I respect that. But ALSO? What lvl of unhinged could they POSSIBLY HAVE? They are FIVE. SMOOTH FACED TODDLER BABY BOYS! A CHILD!

Like? Listen...

You know how Quirks are basicly evolutionary advantages? Random protections that are hit or miss? I have touched on this before in my naruto WIP (that i never posted but shush), but there must exsist a theoretical opposite of killing intent.

A sort of loving/peaceful intent if you will. A SAFETY intent. Or, for the purposes of THIS scenario and slightly to the left of that, a "love me" field. Which? Unlike what the perverse might believe or suggest? Just makes the target... love you.

Not sexually desire.

Love. Care about. Emotional connection.

And, yeah, maybe i've just been reading too many fics where shigiraki do what shigiraki does, and he is his unhinged obsessed lil self. Too many unhinged yandere fics where i darkly mutter "you are forgetting their Core Character Motivatioooooons! Just write an OC!"

Because you can twist a characters personality WITHOUT forgetting who they ARE. Thats what makes it INTERESTING, after all. Seeing how it could go so very, very wrong. How a good emotion, taken too extreme, can corrupt! N it's not just "oh that means violence n cursing right? Immediately jumping to cruelty?"

Its the obsession. The need to consume. The manipulation and care in which they try and maintain the illusion. It isn't one crack and "whelp, fuck it I guess!". Every character is different! Breaks under the strain of 1000% loving someone, DIFFERENT. And it brings up FASCINATING dynamics n potential quirk reactions?

Cause a emotional quirk WILL work. Even on people who supposed "dont have any" emotions? Because thats not how the human body FUNCTIONS. They HAVE all the necessary components. They just have a disorder. The Quirk would be forcing their body to MIMIC "feel-Y.exe" and their body would go with that. How THEY would process that data? What would it FEEL like to THEM? Whole different story.

But they WOULD feel "love" in what ever capacity THEY understand it.

You don't want to hurt your BEST FRIEND do you? You love them. Your BELOVED SISTER? This CUTE CHILD? She seems so NICE. Or maybe it's a precious and to be protected PET? She doesn't know what she'll get, "love" is nebulous and multifaceted. Could be platonic, familial, romantic. The love of a comrade. But it's never failed BEFORE. (Not, that I imagine, she being a well adjusted young lady, would feel morally comfortable USING said quirk in such times of peace. On anybody.)

We're all friend here, right? No need to be aggressive! Hurt anybody! Let's all put our weapons down, yeah?

But! This runs into a PROBLEM. The fuckin Yandere. Your bog standard sociopath. Those to whom this love field/targeting/ray/what-have-you is either so completely foreign too or NOTICEABLE as to be ineffective. Or to whom "love" is AGGRESSIVE.

Who's concept of "love" would actually make the problem WORSE.

I bring this up? Because I am FACINATED by the concept of AfO falling in love.

He... he would be COMPLETELY unhinged about it. The very act would unlock LAYERS to his deeply fucked up, highly obsessive, mind games and bank vaults, squirrel brain.

But I don't think he'd ever WILLINGLY fall in love. Or even be capable. Might be a brain chemistry thing, honesty. But the very reason his CLINGS to his his brothers quirk? Is because his brother was HIS. They were connected. It was... the closest thing he understood to love. And he is unhinged even to this day about it.

EIGHT GENERATIONS OF USERS LATER.

So like? If he spooked some poor soul? With a "love me" quirk? And she, in terror, tried to blast this Scary Supervillian into Not Hurting Her? She would have NO WAY of knowing that she just made a HUGE fucking mistake. Like... conceivably, the WORST mistake.

Because all it would take? Is her NOT instantly dying. No reflexive "how dare you use your Quirk on me". And? The altered brain chemistry starts to kick in. He's suddenly getting?? All these NICE happy brain chemicals that his body has been fuckin STARVED off? Fascinating new sensations? Elevated mood?

It's fake. He KNOWS it's fake. :) But that doesn't mean he won't murder her if she STOPS :)

Looooove yoooou~♡

Does it shift in to real, deeply deranged, love? Impossible to tell. Someone for the LOVE OF GOD call All Might. But?? He's just such an unhinged MESS it's fascinating to explore how emotional quirks would even react to him? Fascinating to think about how he would REACT if he had a SECOND "little brother" scenario. A person he CARED about. But this time... WORSE because it was in a way he could somewhat comprehend AND he had FAR more power then before.

Would it derail everything? Would he be able to focus on his Machiavellian plans while being able to fold them into them? Would he fuckin CONSUME THEM like he did Tomura? Ultimate form of love, after all, to become HIM.

How long could she, the hypothetical Quirk holder, keep that Quirk ACTIVE? Fear is a powerful motivator.

Just?? Why are there not more fics about the Ultimate Creep, BEING CREEPY AND UNHINGED??? He's VERY GOOD AT IT. Has had a LOT OF PRACTICE. LET AfO be deeply insane, 2XXX!

[simplegenius042]

Music Monday, WIP Wednesday & WIP Ask Game

Tagged by @aceghosts

Tagging @noodlecupcakes @direwombat @socially-awkward-skeleton @voidika @imogenkol @la-grosse-patate @inafieldofdaisies @cassietrn @adelaidedrubman @shellibisshe @josephseedismyfather @icecutioner @derelictheretic @shallow-gravy @strangefable @rhettsabbott @josephslittledeputy @cloudofbutterflies92 @skoll-sun-eater @carlosoliveiraa @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @raresvtm @softtidesworld @starsandskies @ladyoriza @florbelles @minilev @yokobai @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @justasmolbard @alypink @thesingularityseries + anyone who'd like to join.

Two songs for The UnTitledverse on a Transformers Prime WIP called Trust In Us, the sequel to Honour Thy Father, a snippet WIP for A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore, which has a Trigger Warning because the Raiders have evil intentions (but are unable to follow through with them) and also for graphically detailed bloody violence (because Alph is a champ and Ress believes the punishment should fit the wrongs), which is the main reason why this post is labelled mature. And lastly, a list of WIPs from The Silver Chronicles that you can ask about. You can listen and read these below the cut:

There's around two plot points to Trust In Us; the first is simply the Autobots finding a possible Energon Lab that Arcee took the decipherable coordinates of in Honour Thy Father, pushing back against the Decepticons and have them go on a wild goose chase so they can find the lab, and then getting ambushed by the Decepticons at the location. Second plot point is Arcee and Soundwave finding themselves in that lab and finding The Horrors(TM), with faulty equipment and weapons, wounded (from each other LOL) and being hunted by deranged A.Is. Sneaking around and outwitting their foes is a key part of this fic... considering the "deranged A.Is" are smarter than they act. Which is why I chose "You Can't Hide" as a song for this fic:

"I knew I was right to think I would find you over here Well, isn't it intriguing that you seem to be just A little bit weary enough to run off on me* Well, there's no need We know you want to deactivate us But we just can't let that happen Every night, always, it never changes But we can make accidents happen."

"We can make accidents happen We can make accidents happen We can make accidents happen We can make accidents happen."

[*Bon-Bon doesn't exist in this universe so had to change it up here to better fit the context]

During the second half of the plot, Arcee and Soundwave meet a Cybertronian who claims to have had "deserted the Decepticon cause" and found himself trapped down in the lab. They come to know him as Flatline, and while he is inherently suspicious, they must rely on his medical expertise and mapping knowledge to get out of the laboratory alive. Tumult arises when Arcee begins to trust one of the less deranged A.I's who only pokes holes in Flatline's story, which leads to a conflict on who to trust. Soundwave, while displeased with Flatline's desertion of Lord Megatron, does put more trust in him than the Autobot he's stuck with and the A.I she's been listening to. Shame that both options lead them to the same conclusion.

"Feel the grove Feel the grove Feel the grove Feel the grove Keep moving Keep moving Keep moving Keep moving

I feel like, you are not trusting me enough And I know what's right, I will guide you safely through this night And though it's true I kidnapped you, please know it was for your own good I've kept you hidden, now phase* four can begin, begin Now phase four can- Now phase four can- Know- I- can begin Know- it's true, I- can begin I kidnapped you

Safely, safely Please know Safely hidden, safely

You are not trusting me enough Trusting me enough You are not trusting me enough."

[*Night four doesn't make sense as a lyric in this context. Phase four better fits Flatline's plans]

Here's a snippet for my Fallout 3 WIP The Waters Of Life Flow. Alph and Amata are held captive by raiders in their first ten minutes of being on the surface. Fortunately (not for the raiders), a bigger fish shows up to steal from the small fry. [TW: While physically "Mohawk" only manhandles Amata, his and the other raiders words indicate more depraved intentions with her and Alph. Nothing graphic ever occurs though. However, TW for graphically bloody and detailed violence, courtesy of Alph's resistance and Ress' mercilessness in a Fallout world. Also strong language]. Read below:

Alph struggled against two of his captors as Mohawk howled with laughter at Amata's frenzied defiance. He had her restrained against the ruin's wall, a grin unnaturally wide filled with a wicked glee.

Sideburn and Iron Nose cackled and guffawed respectively at the display, manic grins all around on most of the thugs. The two that kept Alph pinned to his knees didn't wear smiles, though more from apathy corrupting their hearts than any moral discontent with the situation.

Mohawk chuckles died into a mockery of Amata's terror, mouth gaped wide into an open frown as he sputtered out an exaggerated cry. He soon replaced it with a tainted smile, hungry eyes roaming over Amata's figure.

He glanced over to Sideburn and Iron Nose, cocking his head to Alph, "I reckon we should all treat ourselves to a bit of early desert for lunch... and dinner if the meat lasts long enough."

The other woman, shorter than Sideburn, tittered cheerfully on the locker she kicked her feet on, the attention of her wide soulless eyes locking onto Alph, caressing the flamer beside her.

Alarmed, Alph pushed himself against the weight holding him down, but all for naught as he exerted his limits. He breathed rapidly, panic surged into his heart at how Mohawk gripped Amata's arms above her. Once more powerless to help. And it's all my fault.

Amata shook her head rapidly, a begging no, a choked plea going unsaid. Mohawk was undeterred, "What does everyone think? Nothing like a good fuck to release some steam, eh?"

His gang of monsters cheered in unison, amoral to the evil they were going to inflict. Mohawk bared his dark yellow teeth, "Alright then! Trix, you have a turn of the red-head first. This one's mine."

Trix cackled as she leapt off the locker, skipping her way over to Alph. The vault dweller in question shook his head in pure shock of the immorality the demons in flesh were willing to partake. His eyes became glassy as Mohawk pushed himself further into Amata's space, her desperate attempts to shake out of his hold futile.

When Trix came closer to him, he felt one of the goon's slacken in their hold. He felt a bold and ferocious fire ignite, and with Amata's life hanging in the balance, he delved into a source of fury he's only felt towards Butch and the Overseer.

Once Trix leaned too close, Alph bounced up into a pounce, his forehead colliding with Trix's nose.

A resounding crunch stopped everyone in their tracks, and a blood curdling scream from Trix filled the sparse seconds of silence, crimson splattering her mouth and face.

Alph shook off the pain that pulsed at his forehead. He took advantage of his captor's shock, pulling one arm from the guy on the left before elbowing his mouth, and proceeded to gut punch the other to his right.

Alph didn't spare a second to claim back his baton clumsily strapped to rightie's leg.

Alph made a dash for Mohawk, an action that made the depraved leader shove himself off of Amata for a chance to reach his sawed-off shotgun.

It didn't matter once Iron Nose's fist collided with Alph's jaw.

Alph lost his grip on the baton, and once he fell to the hard ground, he felt the dazed pain of a missing tooth and torn flesh on his lips.

"Alph!" Amata rushed over to Alph's side, hastily turning him over and pulling him up to check on him. She glanced to the approaching Mohawk, and she tried to drag a disoriented Alph to the corner of the ruins to put some distance between them and the thugs.

Mohawk stared at Alph, letting out a bemused chuckle, his eyes narrowing onto the two vault dwellers.

"Motherfucker!" Trix screeched, cradling her broken nose spilling red on the ground, "Fucking cunt broke my nose!"

Sideburn rolled her eyes at Trix, while Mohawk grinned in excitement, "Yeah, these vaulties got some bite in them."

Alph leaned onto Amata for support, spitting out the tooth that had broken off. He attempted to push himself in front of Amata, but his best friend remained firm, eyeing Mohawk with a fury to try and distract them from the tremors of her body.

Mohawk bit his bottom lip in thought, and tsked, "A shame really. We can't have our meat biting us back now can we?"

His hand pulled the sawed-off shotgun from his side, aiming it at Alph, "Let's see how much fight the damsel has when her hero drops dead."

Fear grasped Alph and Amata, the latter of whom hugged Alph closely to her as he weakly tried to push her away, eyes wet from the thought of his failure to protect Amata and find his dad, all the while surrounded by dirty and vile vultures of human beings, who grinned with eager anticipation to reach satisfaction.

"Now is that really necessary?"

Mohawk's gang and their captives turned their attention to the additional voice, spotting a tall woman standing above them on the crest of the slope.

Alph and Amata held onto each other, their eyes scanning the stranger. Her long platinum hair singled her out from the blue sky behind her, dark-tinted shades displaying Mohawk and his gang in the reflection, hiding her eyes from them. Her skin was darker than Amata's, she was cleaner than everyone in the ruins too; including her attire.

She was wearing a black zip-up leather jacket, with a high collar that was broad. She had matching slim black pants and dress boots, a fancy contrast from the blues of the vault dwellers and the faded garbs of the marauders.

"Who the fuck are you?" Mohawk questioned, the vaulties at his mercy forgotten at the appearance of the woman.

"Marissa Bishop," she introduced herself, her head bowing into a tilt, "But my family only have the right to call me that. So how about Ress instead?"

"How'd you even get in here? Jeremy should have splattered your brains against the pavement," Mohawk inquired, aiming his weapon at this 'Ress'.

Ress' lips opened up into a wide grin, showing off teeth too pearly for someone that's living on the surface.

"Well," she said, taking a step down the slope to walk closer to them, "I think I did have a run-in with this 'Jeremy', but our introductions ended with a handshake."

She stopped when she was at even leveling with Mohawk, surveying the group, "But I'd be more worried for yourselves than of him."

Mohawk blinked at her with an incredulous expression, though Trix seemed to have a more visceral reaction at the news.

Alph watched as Trix sauntered up to Ress, mouth and nose stained with her own dried blood, pulling out Amata's 10mm pistol, aiming it at Ress' face.

"What have you done to him you freaky bitch?! What the fuck did you do to my Jeremy?!" Trix shouted at the taller woman, who didn't change her expression.

"Aww, how cute," Ress cooed, replying, "To answer your question; nothing more than trash like him deserved. And the sames going to happen to all of you."

Trix sneered at the taller woman, while Alph and Amata glanced to each other, wondering how the newcomer was even keeping a straight face from being threatened with certain death.

"Oh yeah? Newsflash fucker; I'm the bitch with the gun," Trix cocked the slide back.

Ress hummed, taking a step back before lifting her hand in front of Trix's face; pinkie and ring finger curled into her palm, index and middle finger stacked together and point forwards, with her thumb standing up.

Is... is she for real?

Alph was baffled by the woman mimicking a gun with her hands, and couldn't help but wonder what joke she was trying to pull off, and the sensation of dread at the sinking chances of the likely unwell woman succeeding against Mohawk's gang being as close as Alph and Amata got to actual rescue.

"Mine's bigger," Ress replied, reeking of overconfidence and delusion as Alph began to mutter a prayer.

Mohawk and his cronies burst into laughter, the leader pointing his shotgun downwards as he nearly doubled-over from the embarrassing display.

Trix cackled at Ress' face, shocked and enraged and bemused. The taller woman, with her "gun" still pointed towards the broken nose of Trix, merely shrugged at the reactions. Her "hammer" pressed down onto her index.

Alph could have sworn her saw a small blue light leave from her fingertips until he witnessed Trix's skull caved into the back of her head in an explosion of crimson blood and white cartilage with bits of brain matter spattering onto the concrete ground.

Trix's headless body stumbled back, Amata's pistol falling from its grip as it fell to the floor with a massive thump.

Mohawk and his goons stood shocked, trying to process what they just witnessed, while Alph and Amata began to drag themselves to the corner wall, making distance.

Ress, however, merely wiped away the gunk that got onto her face, taking off her stained sunglasses to reveal captivating ocean blue irises, putting it away in one of her pockets.

She looked from Mohawk, to Sideburn, to Iron Nose, to the two goons who had sullied themselves.

"So," Ress stated, pulling the raiders out of their stupor, "Who's next?"

And lasting the WIP Ask Game for The Silver Chronicles.

Rules: Make a new post (I've broken this rule already) with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPS.

Some of these are NSFW (which in this case only refers to sexual themes, because otherwise I'd have to put an asterisk on everything LOL) so I marked them with an asterisk in case you wanted to ask about something (relatively) SFW.

The Silver Chronicles

Silva's Hope

La Última En Pie

Old Dusk

Call To Arms Duology

Ain't It A Joy?

No One's Safe At Home

An unnamed Bloodborne fic that's straight up depression for the soul like the game but with twin sibling Hunters and a demigod, as well as a mix of the worst unrequited toxic yaoi I've made thus far between the demigod and his ex-buddy.

All Yours*

Faithful

Generosity (or the fic where the sexual tension is strong between Silva and Faith aka Faith tends to Silva's wounds to symbolize the intimacy of trust or something)

Hands On Bare Skin*

No Snake, Only A Boa In The Garden

Only One Person Can Frustrate Me (And That's You)*

Strawberries

The Most Wonderful Of Mistakes*

Weaponizing The Obstacle

We're Primal Beasts After All

Where She Belongs

[lonelychicago]

wip wednesday! 🩹🩺

tagged by the lovelies @prince-buck-diaz @honestlydarkprincess @panbuckley 💗

this is from the nurse eddie teacher buck au! if you wanna be tagged when i post this fic interact with this post

"You know, I almost became a firefighter." Buck says and Eddie raises an eyebrow at him. 

"Really?" 

"I was kind of a wild card after I graduated high school? I just couldn't seem to settle down." He shrugs. "First I became a bartender, although that didn't last long. Then I worked at a ranch, construction, surf instructor…" Buck starts to count all of his jobs. "And then I went through the academy. Became a probie even." 

"What happened?" 

"Well, like I said… It was hard for me to settle down. I was a little bit of a fuck up." Buck says sheepishly and self-deprecating and Eddie frowns, wanting to protest at that but at the same time not wanting to interrupt Buck. "I was all over the place and I made pretty serious mistakes— in the moment I didn't think about it but in hindsight I know that I was kind of an asshole. Anyway, one day my Captain had enough of me and fired me." 

Buck shrugs, trying to sound casual and like it's not a big deal but Eddie can say the shame underneath his eyes. 

"You know, it's probably for the best." Eddie says, half jokingly but also half serious. 

You're here with me, after all. Eddie thinks.

Instead, he says— "If you get hurt this much working as a teacher in an elementary school I don't even want to imagine what would happen to you as a firefighter." 

Eddie genuinely doesn't. Imagining Buck in danger or seriously, gravelly hurt— it makes a chill run down his spine and goosebumps rise in his arms. It makes this illogical and stupid part of him pull Buck in and wrap him in bubble paper, hide him away from the world and keep him safe forever. 

"Yeah, right." Buck huffs, bringing Eddie back to reality.

"With your luck you'd probably end up crashed by the firetruck. Or trapped in a fire." Eddie says, trying to smile but probably failing miserably at it.  "Hell, you have such bad luck that a lightning would probably strike you and kill you." 

"That could happen regardless of me being a firefighter or not."

"Please, stop tempting the universe." 

"You started it."

tagging (no pressure): @thewolvesof1998 @monsterrae1 @heartshapedvows @buddierights @prettyboybuckley @bigfootsmom @hippolotamus @shortsighted-owl @the-likesofus @spaceprincessem @spotsandsocks @ebdaydreamer @transbuck @transboybuckley @911onabc @cowboy-buddie @cowboy-buck @rewritetheending @devirnis @jesuisici33 @bekkachaos @wildlife4life @diazblunt and anyone else who wants to do it!