#kiss prompts but make them an angst fest

[ace-of-clubs-and-diamonds]

Too Late I'm Dead

After rushing out from a Jigsaw survivors meeting, you meet another survivor who isn't exactly intent on attending group therapy. A companionship blossoms, and then a friendship. And then, something else.

Rating: Explicit, NSFW 🔞 Fandom: Saw Pairing: Amanda Young x AFAB!Reader Word count: 5.1K Content warnings: Gore, mentions of self-harm (both in the Jigsaw trap context and the more typical context), trauma, PTSD, angst, discussions of disability (since a lot of Jigsaw traps are disabling), Saw is its own warning, smoking, alcohol consumption, flirting, kissing, making out, biting, vaginal fingering, friends to lovers, as is Saw tradition gay shit goes down in the bathroom, reader is AFAB but gender neutral AO3 link: Here

Author's Note: And here’s Blood Fest Week 3, with the keywords “twisted” and “fixation” and the prompts “traps” and “rage”!! “Traps”, of course, got me thinking about Saw. And since I’m down terribly bad for Amanda and have seen appallingly few fics for her…. well, why not? Underrated characters are kind of my signature anyway. Hope y’all enjoy! <3

“Hi everyone. My name is Brandon and…. I’m a Jigsaw survivor.”

A subdued chorus of Hi Brandons echoed around the small church room. You barely even bothered to mouth the words. The gesture felt about as empty as the tipped over plastic water bottle you’d discarded by your chair some time ago. There was coffee at the sad makeshift snack table too, as well as a box of pastries that looked a few days past their prime, but you figured you didn’t need the caffeine to make you any more jittery than you already were. Your leg was bouncing enough as it was.

“It’s been about a year since uh. Well.” Brandon smiled nervously and made a vague, fluttery gesture with his hands. “Well. You know.”

A quiet, obligatory response from the other people – a murmur, a nod of heads. You stared at your bouncing knee.

“I’ve made great progress with my recovery. My knees have healed really well. I can fully walk on them again, even run if I’m careful. My dog Rex doesn’t really like it when I’m careful though.” He laughed fondly. A couple others offered the obligatory chuckle. “They hurt if I get too eager with stairs. Or if it’s too humid. But it’s going really well. I’m really, really proud of the progress I’ve made.” He nodded, as if assuring himself.

He’d had to break both his knees in order to get out of his trap. Was in a wheelchair for months and only recently started moving around without it. Or so you’d been told.

You weren’t sure you’d be able to break your own knees.

“Somedays, though.” Brandon looked away from the loose circle you all formed. Blinked rapidly. “Somedays, it feels like I haven’t made any progress. Somedays it’s hard. Really hard. And it feels like I didn’t survive that trap. Or if I did, some part of me got left behind.”

Everyone else was nodding, some with sad, understanding smiles on their faces. Your own pulse thundered in your ears like a distant, approaching storm.

“It’s really hard to have hope on those days, but…. what else can I do?” He shrugged, a helpless smile on his face. “Give up? Wallow around in my own misery? I can’t live like that. No one can live like that. Not forever. You just have to choose. You have to make a choice, just like the choices we made to be here. You have to choose to live. You have to choose hope. Or else you just can’t survive.”

You shot to your feet, heartbeat pounding in your ears, chair scraping back. Every face in the room turned to look at you. The church felt too small. Your ribs felt too tight. You felt too…. seen.

Who was he to judge you for wallowing in what you’d fucking gone through?

You spun around and bee-lined for the exit.

The cool city air against your face was a relief as you barged through the church’s double doors. But you stopped in your tracks as you spotted someone else already there. A woman was sitting on the church stairs. She twisted around, eyebrows raised and half-hidden by the choppy, irregular bangs across her forehead.

“Uh. Hey,” you said, somewhat awkwardly.

She paused, as if uncertain. Of what? You weren’t sure. “Hey,” she eventually said back. Then, after another pause, she twisted further around, a frown crossing her features. “Is the meeting over?”

“No. I just needed some air.” Fuck, you needed something to calm yourself. You dug around in your jacket pockets until you found a lighter and a cigarette. “Um. Do you mind if I…?”

She stared at the cigarette in your hand with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher, but eventually shook her head no. You internally shrugged and lit up. The first drag uncoiled the tension that had built up in your muscles, and you breathed the smoke out on a relieved sigh.

The woman glanced between you and the church doors. “Having fun in there?”

Did she know? The place didn’t exactly advertise, but it wasn’t exactly a secret either. You scanned her face. She looked vaguely familiar, but you couldn’t quite place her. Had you seen her in the meetings before? “Oh, yeah, lots. You know. Fun therapy shit.” Supposedly, anyway. It was supposed to be some sort of Alcoholics Anonymous shit, but instead it was for the few survivors of an active fucking serial killer. Jigsaws Anonymous or whatever the fuck.

“Must be going well if you’re out here,” she said dryly, resting her chin on a propped-up fist.

You shrugged, taking another drag. “Well…” Did you really want to tell her about how Brandon’s words had hit just a little too close to home? How they’d made you feel too small, as if the sticks you’d used to prop up your fragile post-trap reconstruction of the world had suddenly snapped, and the weight of it all was now bearing down on you? She was a stranger waiting outside the church. She could’ve been some Jesus freak for all you knew.

Not that she really looked like one. Not with the sheer red shirt over a black bra and fishnet undershirt, or the combat boots, or the sheer exhaustion around her eyes.

She looked less like a Jesus freak and more like you did on the days you could bear to look in the mirror.

So you just shrugged again. “It can be a lot,” you said. “What about you? What’re you doing out here?” You hesitated. “There’re still seats open if you wanted to…”

“No thanks. I’m good.” She offered you a close-lipped smile. “I’ve heard enough of the sob-stories.”

Yeah. You could understand that.

She didn’t look like she was going anywhere, and you didn’t exactly have plans of your own. So you gestured to the stairs next to her. “Mind if I sit?”

“Be my guest.”

You sat to her right so the wind wouldn’t blow cigarette smoke into her face. The smooth grey stone steps were wide enough that it didn’t feel quite so awkward sitting in silence together. Even though you could feel her analyzing you as you took another puff.

You blew the smoke away and smirked dryly at the cigarette. “Think Jigsaw’s gonna put me in another deathtrap for smoking?” You ignored the tightening in your chest as you said the words. Ignored the tremor of unease. Surely it wouldn’t be enough. Surely lightning wouldn’t strike twice.

“He wouldn’t do that.” She said it with such simple certainty, as if it was an inarguable fact. Even still, you found yourself stubbing the cig out and searching for a trash can to toss it into. You didn’t want to just flick it into the grass. Maybe Jigsaw would get you for littering. Maybe he was really passionate about saving the planet.

Who needed to be God-fearing with the possibility of Jigsaw watching your every move?

You shook the thought off. Introduced yourself to the woman. You smiled awkwardly. “Um. I’d offer you my hand but my, uh–” Personal hell “–Trap involved a hand thing so. I’m not a big fan of handshakes these days.” It had taken a long time for the nerves to repair themselves in your hand. A long time and a shitton of agony and medication and physical therapy. You still hadn’t totally gotten rid of the tremor. Fine motorskills were still harder than before.

Before. That.

But the woman just gave a rueful, understanding sort-of smile. Funny how people smiled so much in the presence of trauma and pain. “Amanda. I still have trouble going to the dentist sometimes.”

Shit, that’s where you knew her from, wasn’t it? You’d heard of her, read about her before, seen a clip of her punching a journalist square in the nose when she tried to follow her. All the photos you’d seen had been such shit quality that you hadn’t recognized her immediately.

Amanda Young. The person who killed a man and rummaged around his guts to free herself from the machine hooked into her jaws. The first person to walk away from a Jigsaw trap. The first survivor. In a weird, fucked up way, it was almost like meeting a celebrity. A celebrity for the most depressingly specific thing possible.

You weren’t sure whether it would make things weird to bring that up. So you just nodded. “So. What’re you doing here then? Are you waiting for someone?”

“Mm no, not really.” Amanda scraped at the chipped black polish on her nails. “I just like to come here sometimes.”

You stared at her. Something about her reminded you of a deer, twitchy and ready to bolt at the slightest sign of danger. Or maybe not a deer. Deer looked like they’d snap in half if the wind blew too hard. Amanda…. did not. She was twitchy, but for some reason you got the feeling that she was just as likely to start kicking as she was to start running

Permanently caught between fight or flight.

You went with freeze, yourself. Or wallow, as Brandon had put it. Anger and embarrassment burned against your ribs.

“Hell of a place to visit.” You weren’t sure if you meant it as a light-hearted joke or a deadpan remark. The words came out somewhere in between.

“You’re one to talk.” She finally turned to you. It was the first time she’d actually met your eyes, you realized. “You actually believe all this bullshit?” she asked, gesturing to the church.

“Not really,” you admitted. “My therapist wanted me to go. Said it would help me to be around others who understand what I went through. That it would help me get closure or something. I didn’t want to. But he insisted.” You shrugged. He’d pestered you about it until you finally gave in a few weeks ago. He thought it would be good for you. Would help you heal. Really, it just made you want to fling yourself out of one of the church’s fancy stained-glass windows.

Amanda gave a derisive snort. You almost took offense until she said, “Half of the time these therapists don’t even know what they’re talking about. It’s a bunch of bullshit, too.” She propped her cheek on her fist again, giving you a side-long grimace. “People don’t change until they have to. Or until they’re forced to. A bunch of psychoanalyzing isn’t going to do anything.”

You…. strongly disagreed. But the slim scar peeking out from her sleeve kept you from saying that. “Bad experience with a therapist?” you asked, flicking your gaze away.

“It never really worked for me.”

“What did?” you asked cautiously.

She paused. Thought about it. Stared at you with an intensity that had you wondering what the hell was going on inside her head. Until eventually, “Jigsaw.”

You blinked. Stared. Tried to figure out how to respond to that.

She thought…. Jigsaw helped?

You didn’t want to judge. Fuck, that was exactly why you’d stormed out of the church. You were self-aware enough to realize that. Different things worked for different people, and different people responded to trauma in different ways, but….

The church doors squealed open. You both shot to your feet and turned around. Your fellow Jigsaw Anonymous members were leaving, the meeting over, spilling out from the doors with all the speed and excitement of molasses being poured out from a jar. You stepped to the side to let them come down the stairs. Amanda did the same, arm brushing yours, and you wrestled the urge to jerk away. You weren’t sure of the last time you’d actually touched someone, or the last time someone had touched you, aside from the gentle but coldly professional hands of doctors and emergency personnel. It was as startlingly foreign as it was familiar.

Amanda seemed completely unaware of your clashing emotions as her gaze locked onto something. You followed her stare to Brandon slowly making his way down the steps. A man with sandy-blond hair and a cane was with him, chatting, the both of them completely oblivious to either of you.

Did she know them? She was staring at them with such an undecipherable intensity and it was the only explanation you could think of. You glanced at the two men again, then back at Amanda. No… she wasn’t staring at them. She was staring at the blond man specifically.

It really wasn’t any of your business, but you couldn’t help but ask, “Do you two know each other?”

“Sorta,” was as much of a response as you got.

Once Brandon and the man reached the bottom of the ramp and went separate ways, Amanda turned back to you. It was just the two of you on the stairs now. And it was a little embarrassing how flustered you were just by her proximity. For fuck’s sake, you didn’t even know her.

Maybe your therapist was right. You did need to get out and be around people more. So you could remember how to fucking act normal again.

“Well.” Amanda bumped her arm against yours again. This time deliberately. You were pretty sure the facial expression you made was not a normal one. “See you round.”

Then she shoved her hands into the pockets of her cargo pants, hopped down the steps, and just. Walked away. You stared after her for longer than necessary.

She was impossible to get a read on. Weirdly confrontational, weirdly evasive, and weirdly magnetic anyway.

You kind of hoped you’d see her again.

She didn’t appear for the next few meetings you obligatorily dragged yourself to. It wasn’t until about a month later that you found her sitting out on the steps again. When you, again, had rushed out to clear your head when the room got too small.

“Hey stranger,” she said, tone somewhere close to teasing. It made you smile. Just a little.

“Hey,” you replied, approaching the stairs. And again, you gestured to the space beside her. “Mind if I join you?”

“Be my guest.”

And so you developed a bit of a routine. She appeared on the steps about once a month, for a reason she never shared and that you never really minded. You would sit on the stairs with her, and the two of you would shoot the breeze. It was a comfortable, casual companionship born from a common factor and convenience. It was never anything very deep. Neither of you were there for therapy, not really. You kept it light, casual. That was the point, wasn’t it?

At least until one day when Amanda was standing by the stairs before the meeting had even started. You didn’t bother to hide your surprise as you approached her and exchanged your usual heys.

“You coming in today?” you asked.

“No. I thought we could head somewhere else.” She tilted her head at you. There was a playfulness to her expression, her smile. A playfulness that made you both a little bit cautious and a little bit excited. “Somewhere a little more fun. Unless you want to stay here. For therapy.” She pointedly lifted her eyebrows at you as she said therapy.

You glanced at the church doors behind her. Really, talking to her about anything but the fact that you were both Jigsaw survivors had done a lot more for you than going to these stupid fucking meetings had.

“Only if you promise not to put me in a death game for smoking,” you joked. Or tried to, at least. It really wasn’t that funny. You winced at yourself. But Amanda, to her credit, just linked her arm through yours. You almost preened at the friendly touch.

“Deal,” she said.

She ended up taking you to a bar. A gay bar, more specifically. You were a bit surprised she’d clocked you so easily but never said a word – but then again, neither had you about her. So you supposed you couldn’t be too surprised.

From there, your casual companionship escalated into something much more like a genuine friendship. You got to know each other properly. You talked about your personal lives and hobbies and interests. You even talked a little bit about Jigsaw, and everything after that. You told her how you’d been struggling with insomnia and how you’d lost your job when you stopped showing up. Because of, y’know, being stuck in a deathtrap. And being too terrified to set foot outside your door for a while after. You told her about the new job you’d gotten and struggled to adjust to. And you told her about your hands.

Nails through the palms Jesus-style. Because according to the hoarse voice on the tape that now haunted your nightmares – “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop”. She’d winced as you told her the story one evening. You’d winced as you’d recollected it. The pain shooting through your fingertips, up your arms, into your very fucking bones. The squelch of blood and muscle, the way you hadn’t been able to stop from screaming or the tears from spilling as you twisted and ripped your hands free of the metal spikes.

It was a miracle they didn’t introduced any infections into your bloodstream, the doctors had told you. A miracle.

You told Amanda how your hands still shook, were still a bit weak. How some days they were worse and some days they were better. And how fine motor skills had become hard now, whereas before you’d taken them for granted. God, had you taken them for granted. You’d been able to write your name, use a knife and fork, all that shit, so damn easily.

It had taken a lot of getting used to.

Amanda has just listened and nodded her head. Understanding. Not offering the grating sympathy people so often flung your way, all the while looking uncomfortably unsure of what to do with your presence and your hands and your experience and your trauma. But Amanda understood. Because of course she did. She knew what you’d been through and where you were coming from.

And she’d even smiled a bit mischievously, glancing down at your hands on the bar counter, and said, “Well, if you ever need help with anything, I’m pretty good with my hands. I could always lend a finger or two.”

Maybe it was the little smirk on her face, the glint in her eye when she said it. Maybe it was the loneliness and then the sudden friendship. Or maybe you’d just been a little too buzzed, but her words had remained lodged in your mind as you tried to go to sleep that night.

Amanda had shared things about herself, too, in the time you’d spent together. It had taken a little longer for her to open up – she was a bit slower, a bit more cautious. She seemed a lot more eager to listen than to do the talking. And you couldn’t fault her for that. But eventually, you learned that she worked as a mechanic, knew a lot about fixing and building machines and shit like that. She had a pet guinea pig that she’d acquired entirely by accident. His name was Pigeon. Her favorite color was red, her favorite bands were Nine Inch Nails and Hole, and her favorite movie was The Princess Bride. Her dad was a piece of shit she hadn’t seen in over a decade, and her relationship with her mom was strained at best. She was an only child.

You’d also learned more about her Jigsaw trap. How she’d become a drug addict in prison, how she’d woken up in a Jigsaw trap for it. How the little puppet with swirls on its cheeks had rolled out of the darkness on a tricycle and told her that she’d survived. And how she’d ended up in a trap a second time, a hellish prison of a house with several other people, most of whom had died.

The news had nearly brought your drink back into your throat. Lighting did strike twice after all. He did pick the same victims more than once.

God, maybe you really did need to quit smoking.

Amanda had placed her hand on your arm. Touch gentle but grounding all the same. And she’d assured you that that wouldn’t happen to you, Jigsaw wouldn’t choose you again. He had no reason to. She said it so confidently, and you so desperately wanted to believe her. That you wouldn’t be taken a second time. Or that she wouldn’t be taken a third. Not that she seemed too concerned about it.

That was the strange thing about her. When she told you about what had happened, she stared down at the counter. Her hands shook a little bit. The memory terrified her.

And yet…. she had this fixation on the idea that Jigsaw had helped her. The trap had gotten her off drugs. It had put her on a completely different path in life. Rather than dying from a drug overdose, she’d gotten clean. He saved me, she’d said, eyes wide and earnest and afraid.

You’d fought against the urge to argue that, to say No, he didn’t save you, he almost killed you. The idea of Jigsaw possibly helping – all while you struggled to sleep and were plagued by nightmares as you did, while you struggled to make your handwriting legible, while you fought the urge to bolt back home as soon as the sun started lowering in the sky? The idea felt like swallowing glass.

Had Jigsaw ever made anyone do that?

But you didn’t say any of that to her. People dealt with trauma in different ways. You supposed this was just her way of dealing with it. And it wasn’t really hurting anyone, so who were you to judge?

It certainly didn’t stop you from going to the bar with her regularly. It didn’t stop you from laughing with her, from getting close to her both emotionally and physically till the edge of your seats were almost touching and your arms were practically interlinked.

It didn’t stop the spark of warmth in your chest when she offered a genuine smile. Or the electric feeling that shot through your veins when she traced her fingers over your knuckles one night, after the conversation had lulled and your drinks had gone lukewarm.

“I wanna try something,” she said, voice soft enough that you would’ve missed it had you not been sitting so close your thighs were pressed together.

Eye contact right now would’ve been like staring into the sun. So instead, you stared at her hand on top of yours. Her knuckles were scratched up as if she’d gotten into a fight. “Sure,” you said slowly. “What did you have in mind?”

Amanda turned to you. You cautiously met her gaze. Christ, it really was like looking at the sun. Warm and beautiful but intense. Burningly intense.

Confusion turned to shock as Amanda hooked two fingers into the neck of your shirt and tugged you closer till her lips were hitting yours. You must’ve made a noise of surprise, because she drew away almost immediately. It was all you could do not to chase her and ask why did you stop? A small crease appeared between her eyebrows and she opened her mouth. And God for a second you thought she was going to apologize, when in fact she really didn’t need to because holy shit.

“Oh thank fuck,” you blurted. “You were flirting with me.”

Concern turned to surprise. Then Amanda laughed, the sound pure relief. “Yeah, I was. Did it take you that long to figure it out?” she teased.

“Uh.” Your face warmed. “Maybe.”

She grinned, then grabbed you by the shirt and kissed you again. Gentle but insistent. Her other hand curled around your nape. You didn’t know what the hell to do with your own hands until one curled around her back and the other ended up braced against the bar counter.

The bar counter. Right. You were very much in public. Sure, it was a queer bar, but it was still public.

So you reluctantly pulled away. Amanda looked confused for a moment before you said, “Hey, maybe we should… do this somewhere else?”

She blinked at you. Then, wordlessly, she wrapped a hand around your wrist and pulled you off your seat. She dragged you past the other patrons and tables – it was a quieter night, so you didn’t have to fight through a sea of people – and pushed through one of the bathroom doors, yanking you in with her and locking the door behind you.

“There,” she said. There was a look to her eyes, a look that made your heart stumble and your entire body go warm. “We’re somewhere else.”

This time when she kissed you, you let her fully take the lead. You slid your arms around her and melted into the kiss, sighing against her. It just made her more eager. She prodded at your lips with her tongue, slipped inside with a sweet little moan that had your heart racing. Sent your head spinning. You backed up till you hit a wall, dragging Amanda with because fuck you weren’t breaking this kiss. Not as she was getting to know you with her teeth and her tongue. She tasted like alcohol and peaches, smelled of loam and sweat and faintly of men’s store-brand bodywash. It was heady, intoxicating. Addicting.

Her hands slipped under your shirt. You shuddered at the exposure to the overly air-conditioned bathroom. Shuddered harder at her warm touch roving across your skin, the slight drag of fingernails over your stomach. Amanda broke the kiss with a wet smack as your muscles tensed underneath her.

“You’re so cute,” she teased. She dragged her fingernails over your skin again with just a little more pressure. You arced into her touch. Fuck. Fuck.

You wished you could come up with some kind of response. Something to convey just how much you were aching for her, both emotionally and physically. How badly and how deeply these emotions were running through you. But words were currently beyond your grasp.

Amanda leaned in and nibbled at your neck as her fingers slid past your waistband and teased the edge of your underwear. You clamped your teeth down on your bottom lip. Heat swirled through your veins, in your stomach, at the base of your spine. You moved your hips a little, just a little, to urge her on. Nails dug into the soft flesh there. A whimper escaped.

“Mandyyyyyyy.”

“Yeahhhhhhh?” She was all mischief and smugness as she looked back up at you. It just made you more desperate.

“Mandy. Please?” You gave her your best pleading look.

“You’re so impatient.” She said the words lightly, playfully. But she must’ve been impatient too, because she was pushing your underwear down. When her fingers brushed against your clit, you gasped and dropped your head back against the wall. Fuck, God, yes, right there –

“You sure you only just figured out I was flirting with you? You seem pretty fucking wet already.” She punctuated her words with a slide of her fingers against you. Because yeah, you were fucking wet. It would’ve been a little humiliating if you weren’t so achingly desperate for her touch.

“Yeah, well.” You drew in an unsteady breath as she circled your clit. A teasing touch that wasn’t quite enough. Fuck, it was impossible to form a coherent thought. “You’re just…. really fucking hot.”

It was hardly eloquent. But her breath puffed against your neck in a laugh. And you figured it would do for now.

She kissed the hollow of your throat, firmly rubbed her thumb against your clit. You practically bucked against her. Her other hand hooked under one of your thighs and lifted, and you threw your leg around her waist. Let out a moan at how it changed the sensation. “Yeah, like that,” Amanda breathed. “Just like that.” She said it as if you were touching her, as if she wasn’t the one doing all the work, wasn’t the one making you writhe and whimper and leak over her precise fingers.

Christ, you hadn’t felt this good in a while.

The pace was languorous, exploratory, testing what made you shiver and dig your nails into her shoulders and gasp for breath. As if she was intent on taking you apart and finding out exactly what got you going – a machine to figure out and put back together. Slowly, slowly, but in a way you savored, you felt the tension inside of you building up and coiling tight like a spring. You were quivering. Your clothes clung to your sweat-sheened skin. The music spilling into the bathroom from the bar wasn’t quite enough to cover the ragged breathing and wet, rhythmic noises, and it just made the whole thing feel even dirtier. Especially with how Amanda was panting against you, as if she was getting off just from you getting off and fuck it made you clench.

When she picked up the pace, you weren’t able to stop the gasps and moans that spilled out of you, the way you panted and pleaded her name. The sound of her fingers squelching against you had you burning. And when your release hit you cried out, clenching, shaking, clinging to Amanda’s shoulders and digging your nails in as you rode out the high. She didn’t stop, didn’t relieve the pressure against your clit. White hot pleasure burned through your body till tears pricked at your eyes. Distantly, she said something. Soft, sweet words that didn’t quite reach your ears as they rang from the intensity of your orgasm.

She only stopped when you went limp against her. Only pulled away from the mess you’d made – that she’d made too, really – to wrap her arms around your hips and kiss you, deep and slow, as if trying to commit you to memory. You lazily brushed your tongue against hers. Your muscles felt like taffy, worn out in the best way.

“You were right,” you said when you parted. “You really are good with your hands.”

Amanda grinned so widely and genuinely that you couldn’t stop yourself from capturing her lips again. Fuck. You might’ve been a little bit in love. Or maybe that was the post-sex endorphins talking. You weren’t sure. You didn’t particularly care either way.

“I think I owe you an orgasm,” you said.

Amanda brushed her nose against yours. For the first time since you’d met her, she actually seemed truly, fully relaxed. As if she’d properly lowered her guard just now, just in this moment, just for you. “Maybe next date.” The words sent a flutter through your chest. Next date. There’d be a next date. “But first,” she said, moving away to grab some paper towels, “we gotta get you cleaned up.”

[medusapelagia]

Love is a battlefield - Harringrove Love Fest 8th Feb

written for @harringrovelovefest

Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve Harrington/Billy Hargrove Prompt: Love is a Battlefield Tag: angst with happy ending, friends with benefits, feeling realization

“Fuck!” Billy yells, slamming the car door so hard that the entire car trembles for a moment.

Fuck him! And fuck Harrington!

Why the fuck do they keep doing this? Every time is the same old story! They hang out, they have a great time, they kiss, sometimes they fuck if Steve is home alone, and then it happens: Steve has to say something stupid and Billy has to tell him how stupid that is, and then they fight, and Billy leaves Steve’s house with a heavy heart and a repressed energy that he will unleash punching in the face the first stupid moron that he will see on his way home.

And it will not be Billy’s fault, ok? It will be Steve’s!

How dare him!

Tonight, after they fucked, Steve told him “I love you.” As he meant it.

Fucking moron.

Billy hits the steering wheel so hard that his hand hurts.

“Fuck!” He yells again in the night, and if his face feels wet is due to the humidity and the sweat, no fucking tears, because boys don’t cry.

How could he have done this to him? He trusted Steve! They had a fucking agreement: friends with benefits, no stupid string to keep them together, just some fun in a small and boring city like Hawkins and nothing more. Why did he have to ruin everything? Now Billy could not go back and his heart aches so badly that he thinks is going to be sick.

Fuck Harrington, who told him those stupid words! If he had told them during sex, Billy could have pretended that it was just the lust talking, but no! That stupid rich boy waited for Billy to be vulnerable and raw, entangled in the blankets and ready to fall asleep and he fucking whispered these words in his ear like it was their secret.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Billy tries to take some deep breaths to calm himself, but he is still sitting in his car just in front of Steve’s driveway: he has to turn the car on, leave, and never come back. He nods to himself, knowing that is the right thing to do.

A knock on his window makes him startle and hit the roof of the car; on the other side of the window, there is Steve, still wearing his awful striped pajamas, his eyes red and puffy like he had been crying, which is not possible, is it?

“Bab… Billy.” He whispers, almost revealing their secrets to the woods and the stars that are looking down at them.

Billy freezes like a dare in front of a car headlights, unable to move, and Steve’s hand gets to the door handle; it clicks open and the gentle sound in the middle of the night is almost like a gunshot to Billy’s heart, but Steve doesn’t know it and keeps opening the door until it’s wide open.

“Billy. Come inside. Please. Just for a moment.” Steve’s voice is trembling but the words are clear and reasonable “Come. I’ll offer you a glass of water, nothing more, I promise, but please, get inside.”

“I never made you any promise.” Billy states, staring at the empty road in front of him and stubbornly avoiding Steve’s eyes.

“I know,” Steve whispers, opening and closing his mouth a few times like he wanted to add something else but wasn’t able to.

“I should go.” 

“You should stay.”

It’s a dance they have done so many times before, a boring back and forth that doesn’t take them anywhere.

“I… I promise I’ll let you go. I won’t call. I won’t even say hello at school, but please come inside for a moment.”

Billy finally turns toward Steve, his big doe eyes are so sad and worried and Billy would like to hold him tight and peppers his face with kisses until he starts to giggle like a happy toddler.

God, Steve is so beautiful, even so, broken and sad, he is still the best thing Billy has ever had and the instinct to kiss him is so strong that his knuckles whiten from how hard he is holding the steering wheel.

“Please.” Steve begs and how could Billy resist? He slowly releases the grip from the steering wheel and gets out of the car slowly, as if on the other side of his car there was a ferocious creature and not the boy he fucks.

Steve gets back inside and Billy follows him quietly, keeping the distance.

“Water?” Steve offers, taking a glass and offering it to Billy who begrudgingly takes it while Steve takes a deep breath “Look, I’m sorry, ok? I don’t know why I said that. Oh well, I know why I said it but I thought you were asleep… and I know that you don’t feel the same but it doesn’t have to end just because I caught… feelings.” Steve says, like he was talking about a cold.

“Harrington.”

“If you are going to dump me can you call me Steve? For once?”

No, he can’t! Because if he will… “Steve…” Billy murmurs and all his defenses suddenly shatter to the ground and he is naked in front of the boy which is both the best thing he has ever had and the most dangerous “I don’t do feelings.” Billy replies, harshly.

“I know. And I’m sorry…”

“I don’t do feelings.” Billy repeats, finally lifting his ice blue eyes to look at Steve in the eyes “So tell me, why my heart aches so badly? Why do I feel that I can’t breathe? Why do I feel that I’m chained to your side?”

“Billy… are you saying… Are you saying what I think you are saying?”

No. He is not. Because it’s just sex.

They fuck. They have fun. They don’t have feelings for each other. Billy doesn’t have…

So why is he running toward Steve, crushing him in a tight embrace? Why is he holding Steve's face, tilting it enough to grant him access, and why is he kissing him with passion?

Why does Billy’s heart beat faster? Why the discomfort he felt is disappearing now that he has a familiar weight in his arms?

“I… I….” Billy tries to articulate, but Steve stops him with a finger on his lips.

“It’s ok. You don’t have to say it back.”

“But!”

“When it’s time, you will. Now come.” Steve murmurs, dragging the blond-haired boy back to his room, and into his bed where he holds him tight. 

This time there is no confession whispered but a little voice in Billy’s heart tells him that this time is different.

This time Steve is not just a boy that he fucks, is the boy that he loves, and as soon as he will win the fight between his head and his heart he will tell Steve that he loves him too. For the moment he rests, safe between Steve’s arms.

[merlinrarepairfest]

Masterlist

With an amazing 36 works, the 2023 round of the Rare Pair Fest is now closed! Our lovely participants created for 21 different relationships, with Arthur/Gwen/Merlin snatching the first spot with 5 works, Merlin/Gwaine coming second with 4, and third place being shared by Gwen/Morgana, Gwaine/Percival, and Leon/Merlin, all with 3 works each.

The hugest thank you to everyone who left prompts, wrote fics, created art, read and shared and left some love, and last but not least to the Merlin Fic Book Club Server for hosting us on the Discord side of things. I was actually blown away by everyone's enthusiasm for this fest, and I can't wait for the second round <3

Until then, you can find all of this year's creations beneath the cut. Enjoy!!

All the love,

Mona (@queerofthedagger)

Title: can you understand me? Writer: sleepygecko Rating: Teen & Up Warnings: None Medium/Word Count: 3,606 words Pairing/main characters: Merlin/Leon Up to 10 tags: Animal Transformation, Fluff, Magic Reveal, First Kiss

Summary:

Leon wakes up in the forest as a dog with no memory of how he got there. Luckily Merlin stumbles upon him and is able to help.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcm_rare_pair_fest_2023/works/49873792

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Title: Friendless Monster Writer: I_think_he_knows | @marlenemckinnonsuppremacy Rating: Teen and up audiences Warnings: No Archive warnings apply Medium/Word Count: 4891 words Pairing/main characters: Merlin/Arthur/Gwen Up to 10 tags: Polygamy, miscomunications, Fluff, Angst, Love, Love Confessions

Summary:

After years of peace in Camelot, Merlin is forced to reveal his magic to the two people he loves the most

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49932865/chapters/126062422

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Title: fool's gold Artist: kairennart (Personaje) | @kairennart Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Warnings Apply Medium: Digital Art Pairing/main characters: Lancelot/Morgana Up to 10 tags: Fanart, Shade Lancelot, Episode: Lancelot du Lac.

Summary:

Morgana and her knight.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51030379

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Title: Love is a Banquet Writer: eachpeachpearplum | @eachpeachpearplume Rating: T Warnings: No archive warnings apply, alcohol mention Word Count: 2k Pairing/main characters: Merlin/Gwaine, pre-Merlin/Gwaine/Arthur Tags: fluff, canon era, jealous Arthur, hungover Arthur

Summary:

When it comes toArthur, Gwaine does a lot of pretending for Merlin's sake: pretending he doesn't know how Merlin feels about Arthur, pretending he doesn't know how Arthur feels in return, pretending he doesn't want to punch Arthur in the face and shout at the pair of them to stop being stupid and snog already (Gwaine's planning on being involved in the snogging too, he'snot self-sacrificing enough to give Merlin up entirely, but he sort of thinks one of them has to make thefirst move.) Or: Arthur is jealous and hungover, Gwaine is exasperated and really struggling to be sympathetic, and Merlin's heart is big enough to share...

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51617992

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Title: These Walls, Thy Sphere Writer: Zorbo_Jorks | @zorbojorks Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Warnings Apply Medium/Word Count: 6,111 Pairing/main characters: Balinor & Arthur Pendragon Up to 10 tags: Canon Divergence- Balinor Lives, Father-Son Relationship Dynamics, Developing Friendship, Post-Canon: The Last Dragonlord, Arthur's Changing Opinions on Magic

Summary:

“And what of your son?” Arthur pressed. “He must want you in his life!” “I know he does,” Balinor sighed, expression odd and unreadable to Arthur, “but I missed the chance to be a father to him long ago. He is a grown man now, and I am no fit father in any case.” “You would be better than many!” Arthur scoffed, not realizing the emotion hiding in his words until they had left his lips. He screwed his mouth shut and glared at the table, feeling Balinor’s gaze heavy on him, weighed further by the realization that he was comparing the dragonlord to the king. ------------ Balinor did not die, and despite everything, the dragonlord's company begins to grow on Arthur.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49938067

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Title: Apple Moon Writer: Winter__Moon | @the-king-and-the-druidess Rating: T Warnings: No Medium/Word Count: Fic, 1670 Pairing/main characters: Mordred/Morgana. Mordred, Morgana Up to 10 tags: Canon divergence, knife feeding, apples, UST, old religion, good!Morgana, dark!Morgana

Summary:

The moon has two sides, just like Morgana and Mordred.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50346283/chapters/127191832

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Title: Sweet violet and cherry blossom Writer: Skydragon05 | @skydragon05 Rating: General Audiences  Warnings: None Medium/Word Count: 1528 Pairing/main characters: Arthur/Gwen/Elena Up to 10 tags: Fluff, Wedding, Polyamory, Established Relationship, Flowers, Canon Era, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, POV Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Episode: s03e06 The Changeling (Merlin), Oneshot

Summary: 

There could hardly be more contrast between now and the last time Arthur had stood in this spot anticipating his imminent marriage. This time, not only was he the king, but he was also happy. Today he was here entirely by choice, and for love, and he knew the warmth he felt today was shared equally amongst both of his brides. Wedding oneshot for Merlin Rare-pair Fest 2023: Elena/Arthur/Guinevere

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51389851

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Title: The Wild Goose Writer: littlegreyfish Rating: E Warnings: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings Medium/Word Count: Fic/30,000 | Chapters: 5/6 Pairing/main characters: Balinor/Hunith Up to 10 tags: Hurt/comfort, Angst, Strangers to lovers, Injury recovery, Physical disability, Age difference, Character study, Canon era, Pre-canon, Canon compliant

Summary:

Fleeing the slaughter of his people, the last dragonlord finds home with a peasant girl.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51400252

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Title: [ART] Two of Us Artist: Mischel | @magicalmischel Rating: G Warnings: none Medium/Word Count: Art Pairing/main characters: Gwen/Merlin Up to 10 tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gwen Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Gwen Has Magic (Merlin), BAMF Gwen (Merlin), BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Digital Art 

Summary: 

Gwen/Merlin or Gwen & Merlin fanart for Rare Pair Fest 2023. Prompt: AU where Gwen has magic

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51388438

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Title: left unattended Writer: Sage_Owl Rating: Mature Warnings: None Medium/word count: Fic/4,078 Pairing/main characters: Leon/Lancelot Up to 10 tags: Canon Divergence, Time Skips, Character Study, Wings, Mild Smut, Magic, Loneliness, Mythical Creatures, King Arthur Pendragon

Summary:

It started as a way to escape. No, that wasn’t right. It started because he was drunk.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51328009

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Title: Something for the pain Writer: Ace_Teagirl | @aroaceteagirl Rating: Gen Warnings: None  Medium/Word Count: fic 11,960 words Pairing/main characters: Merlin & Mordred Up to 10 tags: Canon era; Canon divergence; Child Mordred; Past child abuse

Summary:

“Who is this?” Gaius finally asked. Merlin yelped in surprise as he turned fast enough to almost lose his balance and stumble. The purse of Gaius’ lips and the raised eyebrows told Merlin his mentor was struggling not to laugh at the display. Merlin wouldn’t admit it, but he appreciated it. “I found him on the street, I think he’s a druid. He can use mindspeech, but he can’t or won’t speak to me. I don’t really know who he is or where he’s from, but he needs help, Gaius. I couldn’t just let him freeze and starve out there. It’s just for a few days, I promise –” Or Merlin finds Mordred on the street on a cold and rainy night and decides to take him in. He starts teaching the boy how to control his magic and Mordred soon becomes Merlin's ward.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcm_rare_pair_fest_2023/works/51374515

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Title: distance your emotions Writer: Ceewelsh | @mayonnaisetoffees Rating: M Warnings: Major Character Death Medium/Word Count: Fic/1779 Pairing/main characters: Gwen/Merlin/Arthur also involved Leon, Morgana and Elyan Up to 10 tags: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Order 66, Angst

Summary:

The world seemed to be heading for a tipping point, and Arthur could only hope it would be for the better. Perhaps soon the war would be over. Once the galaxy was safe… Maybe then he would be free to leave the Jedi Order and live out his days with Gwen and Merlin. Meeting them, training with them, their bond was unmistakable. It was not the Jedi way, but not every life is built for the Order. Arthur knew that, now. His duty came first, protecting those who needed it was more important than his feelings. But maybe once there was peace, it wouldn’t feel like such a betrayal to leave.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51385720

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Title: A meeting most needed. Writer: ohmerthurcharm Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings, Mild blood, mention of death of minor character. Medium/Word Count: 4474 words Pairing/main characters: Merlin/Oswald/Ethan Up to 10 tags: Threesome, knife kink, Don/sub undertones, What if, Fix it fic

Summary:

What if Sir Oswald and Sir Ethan did not die? They travel to Camelot, mourning the loss of their Manservant. Merlin's warmth is a welcome to their tired minds, Arthur tells Merlin to give them a good time and he shall deliver.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51031120

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Title: Unforgettable Knight Writer: RedLlamas | @brayinghorses Rating: Explicit Warnings: Rape/Non-con Word count: 2,291 Pairing/Main characters: Leon/Merlin Up to 10 tags: Unreliable Narrator, The Rising Sun Tavern (Merlin), Light Petting, Licking, Rough Sex

Summary: 

Leon's on his night off, and when he spots Merlin from across the tavern, decides to assert his place as Prince Arthur's head knight.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51346480

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Title: Reunions Artist: Nebula5030 Rating: Gen Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Medium/Word Count: Art Pairing/main characters: Elyan/Gwaine Up to 10 tags: Canon Era, Established Relationship, Scars, Amnesia, Reunions, Implied hair cutting in a medical context, aka Short Hair Gwaine

Summary:

Elyan thought he had lost Gwaine months ago, after he had vanished from the citadel and never returned. Imagine his surprise when, on a border patrol only a day's ride from Camelot, he spots a familiar face working the farmlands...

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51353260

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Title: Cross your heart and hope to bi Writer: I_think_he_knows | @marlenemckinnonsupremacy Rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply Medium/Word Count: 13744 words Pairing/main characters: Merlin/Gwen/Arthur Up to 10 tags: Lacrosse , Polyamory, Alternate Universe - College/University, arthur is a jock, gwen is a jock, they're both jocks, merlin loves jocks

Summary:

Modern college/university au. Gwen and Arthur are dating, they're both seniors & jocks (lacrosse), Merlin is the freshman assigned to tutor them to pass some advanced class or they can't play

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50458846

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Title: Through The Trees Writer: lavender_spice | @lesbianlefay Rating: Explicit Warnings: Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Medium/Word Count: 2.7k Pairing/main characters: Gwen/Morgana, Temporary Gwen/Lancelot, Implied Gwen/Merlin Up to 10 tags: Jennifer's Body AU, Horror, Succubi, Jealous Morgana, Possessive Morgana, Murder, Dry Humping

Summary:

If Gwen Smith knows one thing in her life, it's this: Morgana Pendragon is evil. Not teenage girl evil, mind you. Actually evil. Murderous, flesh-eating seductress evil.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51392029

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Title: A Lifetime of Promises Writer: eachpeachpearplum | @eachpeachpearplume Rating: M Warnings: No archive warnings apply Medium/Word Count: fic, ~50k | Chapter 8/14 Pairing/main characters: Gwaine/Merlin/Percival, established Gwaine/Percival, past Gwaine/Merlin Up to 10 tags: Modern AU, polyamory negotiations, fluff, slow burn (for the poly ship), falling back in love, hurt/comfort

Summary:

When Gwaine bumps into his ex, Merlin, in the pub one night, he doesn't realise quite how much it's going to change his and Percival's lives.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52010989

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Title: fade away never Writer: SlantedKnitting | @slantedknitting Rating: General Audiences Warnings: none Medium/Word Count: 1,186 words Pairing/main characters: Leon/Merlin Up to 10 tags: Regency Era, Queerplatonic Relationship, Immortal Leon, Immortal Merlin, Ballroom Dancing

Summary:

Leon and Merlin attend a ball.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51031786

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Title: [ART] Still Yours Artist: Mischel | @magicalmischel Rating: G Warnings: none Medium/Word Count: 0 Pairing/main characters: Gwen/Morgana Up to 10 tags: Digital Art, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angel Gwen (Merlin), Hugs, Wings, Fallen Angel Morgana (Merlin), Demon Morgana (Merlin)

Summary:

Morgana/Gwen fanart for Rare Pair Fest 2023. Prompt: Angels and Demons au. They were together when they were angels. Then Morgana fell.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51384040

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Title: The Shop at the Corner's End Writer: Cassius_theCorrupterofSouls | @twistedshipper Rating: M Warnings: Creator chose not to use Archive warnings  Medium/Word Count: 12,456 Pairing/main characters: Morgana/Mordred  Up to 10 tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Lovers, Witchcraft, Wicca, Autumn, Halloween 

Summary:

Drawn towards a local occult shop that lies on her route to school, Morgana Pendragon takes it upon herself one Saturday afternoon in September to visit the store, hoping to purchase with her meager allowance a book or two on witchcraft, a practice she has been secretly reading up on online but has no hands-on experience with due to her father's no "nonsense" stance on all things supernatural. Entering the shop, she finds it to be as magical and sublime as her expectations, but what she doesn't expect is the confrontation she is about to have with one of its employees, a young man by the name of Mordred, who may just possess the secret to helping her realize her dreams of forging her own path and become more certain of herself in the process. Or, based on the prompt: Modern AU. Mordred works in an esoteric Wicca bookshop. Curious, Morgana visits the shop secretly because her conservative and stern father doesn't like her "unscientific, silly" hobbies. Romance, initial dislike for each other, find themselves drawn together.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51253924

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Title: golden thread (clasped weft woven) Writer: AgapantoBlu | @agapantoblu Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Medium/Word Count: 20.766 words Pairing/main characters: Freya/Merlin; Arthur Pendragon. Up to 10 tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Freya Lives, Magic Revealed, Implied/Referenced Torture (though it’s just in dreams), Nightmares, It’s hard to live your cottagecore fantasies when destiny won’t stop banging at the door.

Summary: 

“It was so close. They barely made it out of Camelot and even then, Merlin was ready to watch her die. He'd held her and cried and screamed and begged whatever force had made him, every ounce of his magic, to please. Just not her. Not at Arthur's hand. Fate must have worried about the latter more than the first, but the waters had risen nonetheless, and the waves had washed away the blood and the wound alike. Merlin had been hit with a strange feeling of melancholy and sorrow and the weird relaxation that happens when a pull that seemed unnoticeable before suddenly stops. Just like that, Camelot didn't seem so enthralling anymore, and Arthur's actions not so easily pardoned."

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51364060

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Title: her sorrowless salt self Writer: greenforsnow | @m-b-w Rating: T Warnings: no archive warnings apply Medium/Word Count: fic, 6k Pairing/main characters: Gwen/Morgana Up to 10 tags: Pirate Morgana, Mermaid Gwen, getting together

Summary:

Morgana looks for freedom in the ocean; she finds Gwen.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51389305

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Title: Save a Horse, ride a Knight Writer: Laevateinn Rating: T Warnings: N/A Medium/Word Count: 1k Pairing/main characters: Gwaine/Percival Up to 10 tags: Canon Divergence, Gwaine admitted he was of noble blood, Percival came to Camelot to work, Tournament, Favours, Gwaine is oblivious

Summary:

Imagine a world where Gwaine admitted being of noble blood and stayed as a knight, long before he actually does in the show. What if, in that world, he and the other Knights of the Round Table had met differently? What if Percival, for example, had decided to travel to Camelot and work there? Where he would have met Gwaine, and worked with him? Surely, these two can stay professional, or simply friends, right?

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51384994

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Title: the gold and the rust Writer: Shana_Rose | @shana-rosee Rating: T Warnings: None Medium/Word Count: 1,176 Pairing/main characters: Mergwenthur Up to 10 tags: Mergwenthur, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Battle of Camlann, Hurt Arthur Pendragon, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, POV Merlin, Sleepy Cuddles

Summary:

The bright light of early morning hit aggressively against his eyes. Merlin winced, scrunching his eyes in hopes of the light going away. He pressed his head further into his arm, resting on top of the soft sheets of the bed. His back was aching from sleeping in a chair. Just as he wondered why he would sleep in such an uncomfortable position, he bolted up. His breath caught in his throat as he turned his head towards the head of the bed. - Arthur survives Camlann.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51432988

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Title: Jealous of him, I want to be yours Writer: HadrianPeverellBlack | @evadne01 Rating:  General Warnings: N/A Medium/Word Count: fic/ 1,891 Pairing/main characters: Merlin/Gwaine, Merlin/Lancelot, Gwaine/Merlin/Lancelot Up to 10 tags: POV Gwaine, Protective Gwaine, Protective Lancelot, Supportive Lancelot, Supportive Gwaine, Powerful Merlin, Jealous Gwaine, Pining Gwaine, Post-Season/series 03, Pre Season/Series 04

Summary:

Gwaine is jealous. Not of Arthur, because even if he and Merlin are basically joined at the hip, it's obvious that the royal numpty has no idea about Merlin's magic. No, Gwaine is jealous of Lancelot, because he's the only one who does know.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51174415

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Title: The Best Way to Cover Something Up… Writer: sleepygecko Rating: General Warnings: None Medium/Word Count: Fic/1999 words Pairing/main characters: Merlin & Mordred & Morgana Up to 10 tags: Child Mordred, Mordred moves to Camelot

Summary:

When Merlin helps the little Druid boy escape the guards, they flee to Morgana’s chambers. Together, they come up with an epic sob story to cover up the boy’s sudden appearance, something so emotional that Arthur “emotionally dysfunctional” Pendragon won’t look too closely at. Welcome to Camelot, Mordred of Ealdor.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51462367

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Title: Stolen Moments Writer: Lemon_pH Rating: T Warnings: No Archive Warnings Medium/Word Count: 2,5k (2544) Pairing/main characters: Gaius/Uther Pendragon Up to 10 tags: Canon Era, Merlin/Arthur is a background, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: 

Those are just moments in the vast fabric of life. But we cherish them, keep them close to our hearts, Because at the end, they're all that we have of each other.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51023428

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Title: powerful Writer: I_think_he_knows | @marlenemckinnonsuppremacy Rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply  Medium/Word Count: 1127 words Pairing/main characters: Gwen/Arthur/Merlin Up to 10 tags: BAMF Merlin, Merlin is powerful and everyone knows it, BDSM, Smut, 

Summary:

Gwen has always felt Merlin has a powerful vibe about him, which she finds very sexy. When she marries Arthur, upon finding out they are both attracted to him, they invite him to their bed or to be their partner. Gwen tells them about a fantasy she’s had since they were all younger: Merlin taking her, and claiming her as Arthur watches, tied up and unable to do anything about it or pleasure himself.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51062878

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Title: smooth sailin’ Writer: masculinepeacock | @masculinepeacock Rating: T+ Warnings: none Word Count: 1.6k Pairing/Main character; Percival/Gwaine Up to 10 Tags; romcom elements, teachers, winter fair, gwen is mentioned, open ended

Summary: 

Percival meets Gwaine at a winter fair and the two hit it off. Is this destined to be a one off, or something more?

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51381598#main

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Title: A Disrupted Destiny Writer: sillydegu | @sillydegu Rating: General Audiences Warnings: None Medium/Word Count: 11 874 Pairing/main characters: Gwaine/Merlin Up to 10 tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gwaine knows about Merlin's magic, Merlin's magic revealed, Episode: s03e04 Gwaine (Merlin), Angst with a happy ending, Gwaine being Gwaine 

Summary:

3x04 AU. Uther is not convinced by Arthur, and sentences Gwaine to death anyway. Merlin uses his magic to break Gwaine out of the dungeons, revealing it to Uther in the process. The two of them go on the run together, and fall in love on the way.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51257899

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Title: Knighting Writer: cynthia1314 | @cynthia39100 Rating: Gen Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Medium/Word Count: 4670 Pairing/main characters: Lancelot / Arthur Pendragon Up to 10 tags: Episode: s01e05 Lancelot (Merlin), Episode: s03e12-13 The Coming of Arthur (Merlin)

Summary:

Arthur is finally king, free to knight whoever he chooses. Lancelot pledges his life, honour and devotion to him. (Prompt by kairennart)

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51135934

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Title: all the devils are here Writer: litinthyheart | @lit-in-thy-heart Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death Medium/Word Count: 21,000 Pairing/main characters: Lancelot/Merlin Up to 10 tags: Enemies to Lovers, Fae Merlin, POV Lancelot, BAMF Merlin, Execution, Restraints, Intimacy, Internal Conflict

Summary:

In light of half of Camelot's knights being killed in a dragon attack, Uther Pendragon has been forced to broaden the eligibility criteria. Lancelot, who has wanted to be a knight all of his life, is given a quest to prove his worth as a final test before he is knighted. He must kill the leader of the Unseelie Court, Emrys.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51551500/chapters/130293436

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Title: Siblings and Soulmates Writer: Merthurallure | @merthurallure Rating: Explicit  Warnings: Incest Medium/Word Count: 1 397 words/fic Pairing/main characters: Arthur/Morgana  Up to 10 tags: sibling incest, first time, canon era, PWP

Summary:

Morgana and Arthur enjoy their first time together 

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51564880

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Title: Matters of the Heart Writer: The_Questing_Beast | @ummyesisthisjasongrace Rating: General Audiences Warnings: none Medium/Word Count: Fanfiction; 11,313 words Pairing/main characters: Mithian/Morgana Up to 10 tags: Canon Era, Canon Compliant, Arranged Marriage, Slow Burn, Good Morgana, Initial Mithian/Arthur, Fluff and Angst, Mithian really said 'thank god you introduced me to your sister'

Summary: 

It's all quite simple, really - marry the King of Camelot, fulfil her duty to her father and her country, become Queen. Or at least that's what Mithian thinks when she arrives in Camelot for the first time. However, things get complicated when the King's half-sister, the Lady Morgana, catches her eye instead. Turns out that no one, not even a Princess, has a say in matters of the heart.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51938515/chapters/131336134

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Title: grief, sins, mountain hymns Writer: ashamedbliss Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 36k | Chapter 6/6 Pairing/main characters: Arwaine, with past Arwen and past Gwainecelot Up to 10 tags: Western AU, Farm/Ranch AU, Bandits & Outlaws, Grief/Mourning, Loss, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Summary:

1899, Colorado. Five years after the death of his wife Guinevere, Arthur's life on the ranch is mundane but happy, his days practising medicine long behind him. Enter Gwaine, an outlaw determined to seek his redemption, in need of a doctor to patch his wounds and an honest day's work.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52082701

[nishayuro]

The way I loved you - Bakugo Katsuki

Collection: Spotify playlist song prompts

Genre: Angst, Hurt/No comfort

GN! Reader

A/N:okay so the way I do these is I spin a wheel for songs, for fandom then character. and when the way i loved you came out and MHA got chosen as the fandom I was like, “omg what if bakugo…” and iT WENT TO BAKUGO’S SDFGHJ THIS IS FATE

Synopsis: You’re happy, you’re with the perfect guy, you’re living the ideal romance that everyone dreams of. But why do you still long to be in his arms? 

“He says everything I need to hear, and it's like I couldn't ask for anything better” 

Perfect. Ideal. Came out of a fairytale. These are all words that people describe when they see you with your partner, and you can’t even deny. 

It’s true, he’s charming, intelligent, strong, loving, caring, loyal, and all these other perfect qualities. You feel like you’ve hit the jackpot. 

“Love?” a voice calls out, you snap out of your thoughts and look towards the man in front of you, your boyfriend of 2 years. “oh , yeah sorry just got lost in thought” you said, giving him a smile. 

“Hmm, penny for your thoughts?” he grinned, holding out a hand towards you. “Just thinking of how perfect you are” you admitted, a smile adoring your face. 

“Oh? Well, you, my dear, are more perfect than one could ever hope to be. How’d I get lucky to even pull you? I have no idea, "he teased, linking his arms with yours. “Let’s go, we don’t want to be late for our date” you say, pulling him out the door. “Oh and by the way, you look wonderful tonight” he says, pressing a kiss on your hand. 

“And he says, "You look beautiful tonight" And I feel perfectly fine”

The drive to the restaurant was quick, both of you joking to each other on the way. When you got there, he got out of the car to open your side, escorting you out. “Wow, what a gentleman~” you teased. “Only the best for my love,” he replied. You both walk towards the entrance, hand in hand. As he confirmed your reservations with the receptionist, your eyes scanned the place. 

Big glass windows lined the walls, giving a wonderful view of the city lights. The ceiling was lined with fancy chandeliers, illuminating the room with a wondrous glow. You're thinking about how well the lighting will be for your pictures later on. A waiter leads you both to a table near the sides, a bit secluded but still gives a great view of the whole room. 

He pulls out your chair, sitting you down before he sits down himself. As you ordered your food, you both decided to indulge in conversation, like how your parents are inviting him over for a birthday party, or how your brother was asking him if he’d like to join them in a basketball match next week. 

This is the romance you’ve dreamt of since young. This is the life you’ve always wanted. But why, as you move your gaze to the table behind him, do your eyes hold a sense of sorrow and longing? 

“But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain, And it's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name”

Your relationship with Katsuki Bakugo was one you’d call imperfect. He was loud, brash, and arrogant. He’d often be late to dates, coming home late at night and leaving early in the morning, and forgetting important dates because of the nature of his job as a hero.  As much as you tried to understand him, it was just too much. 

You couldn’t live like that anymore, living with uncertainty, living like he’s not even part of your life. Soon, one fight turned into two, two turned into three, and three turned into a screaming fest at 2 am. 

“Holy shit, Katsuki! Is it so much to ask for you to make just a bit of time for me?!” you screamed, tears threatening to fall. “Do I look like I can?! Hero work is already stressful enough, I don’t even get an ounce of rest before I’m called back again!” he shouts back, annoyance visible in his voice. 

You pace the room, tears running down your face. “Why are we still even in a relationship then?! I can’t live like this anymore, Katsuki! I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t live like you don’t even exist in my life…” you cried, grabbing a jacket and leaving through the front door of his apartment. 

“You're so in love that you act insane, And that's the way I loved you”

“Y/N! Wait!” Katsuki shouted, running after you, rain pouring down like it's insulting him. “Y/N, please!” he shouts, catching up to you and encasing you in his arms. “Please, don’t go…” He whispers, eyes looking into yours. And even though Katsuki was loud, brash and arrogant, you still loved him. He was still your Katsuki. So in a moment of weakness, your lips connected with his. 

You pulled away to catch your breath, looking him in the eye. As much as you loved the man in front of you, you still can’t see yourself living that life, not even with him. 

“I’m sorry, Kats. But I really can’t anymore. I love you, but this is goodbye.” You declared, placing one last kiss on his lips before turning back and walking away. He stared at your retreating figure, his own tears mixing in with the rain, weeping with him for the end of his 3 years with you. 

“He can't see the smile I'm faking, And my heart's not breaking”

His bright red eyes caught your (e/c) coloured own. He was… on a date? You looked at the person he was with, and your heart clenched. Why are you feeling this? You’re on a date of your own. “Honey, you good?” your partner asked, concern evident in his face. “I’m fine, just got distracted by the decoration” you lie, you feel guilty. It's been years, and he’s still lingering in your heart. 

You tried to ignore Katsuki at the other table, your partner making that a little easier. A waiter comes to your table and places down a dish in front of you, “Oh, we didn’t order dessert yet.” You said, motioning to the dish. “No, I actually did.” Your boyfriend interrupted, a smile on his face. 

The waiter opens the lid and you see a cake with a drawing of a ring. Oh fuck. You thought, your boyfriend got down on one knee, a box in hand. Your eyes widen, looking around, you spot those same red eyes, wide as well and staring back at you. 

Your boyfriend went on with his proposal speech, while your mind was running a mile a minute. You love him, but you’re conflicted… “Y/N, will you make me the happiest man and marry me?” and there it is, the question. 

“And I never knew I could feel that much, And that's the way I loved you”

You looked at him, still in shock. Your eyes drifted to the back, Katsuki was no longer looking at you or the scene, he had his full attention towards his date. And you realized, even if your heart still yearned for him. You will never go back, you can’t go back. 

You looked towards your boyfriend, a smile plastered on your face. This was your dream life, you’re living your fantasies. You have what you wanted, even if it wasn’t him. 

“Yes, Eijiro… Yes.” You answered. 

masterlist

navigation

[sitp-recs]

HP Rec Fest, Day 4

As a big enthusiast of HP art I couldn’t be more excited about today’s prompt from @hprecfest. In my experience, the fic + art combo always feels like a special treat and makes the reading experience all the more immersive and magical. If you’re a Drarry fan make sure to check the HD Big Bang Fest which brings amazing collabs between writers and artists. I was hard pressed to rec my all-time fave A Sword Laid Aside by @korlaena with stunning artwork by @saulaie, but in the spirit of reccing new, lesser known works I’ve picked 2 Drarry fics and 1 rarepair. I’m so delighted to rec authors and artists I’ve admired for such a long time. Thank you all for sharing your talent with us!

Day 4) A fic with art:

Drarry

Memento Mori by @fantalfart and art by @crazybutgood (M, 24k)

Seven is the number on my door. It’s the amount of scars I bear on my chest. It’s the time I wake up every morning. Seven is how old I was when father beat me for the first time, and seven years later I felt the force of a Cruciatus by the same hands.

this is such a cool and creative case fic, I was hooked since the start and can’t believe how CBG’s origami art only enhanced the sense of mystery and the story’s creepy, dream-like quality. brilliantly well thought and executed, I promise this will haunt you for a while!

Waking Up Slow by @sweet-s0rr0w and art by @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (E, 22k)

'Twas the night before Christmas, although it’s July / Draco’s a shopkeeper, no-one knows why / There’s hiking and witch caves, freak snowfalls and more / Bad Christmas jumpers, nosy neighbours galore / Narcissa’s here too, but… something’s amiss / And what’s in those chocolates that’s making them kiss?

WUS is one of my 2023 favorites but for some reason it remains criminally underrated so I’m here to invite you to embrace the Christmas spirit and go read this sweet story asap. I adore this charming and quirky shop owner Draco, watching Harry fall for him was such a treat. Just like the story, Joy’s art is rich, creative and tender, with layers of soft angst expertly woven underneath 🤌🏼

Rare pair

The NottPott Chronicles by @amarillis39 and @missmrah (E, 35k, ongoing) - Harry/Theo

A series of moments from Theo and Harry’s lives as they learn to navigate their relationship, deal with their demons or just simply revel in each other’s company. Every story can be read as a stand-alone.

this luxurious series is a feast to the eyes and an absolute rarepair classic in my opinion; a must read to all NottPott fans or those curious about the ship like myself. I was immediately sold on this hot tattooed power couple being sexy & tender across a series of deliciously intimate slice of life vignettes.

[dragonflylady77]

WIP TITLE GAME

Rules: make a new post 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 and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

I was tagged for this one by a bunch of people, I'm pretty sure, but most recently by @destroya2005

I will not tag as many people as i have WIPs because I have waaaay too many.

Harringrove:

the stolen merprince

it started with a kiss

wrong brother, right kiss

strippers for saf

clo's prompt

mutuals

fic ideas

you got it (long)

boarder

soulmates AU crack

why fight a guy (when you can kiss him instead)

not quite write (trans steve)

grease 2 AU

steve at the gay club

hate sex

dirty dancing AU

phone sex

renegade sunshine

terminally straight

mutual pining au

never fall for a straight guy

separate ways

Firstprince

angst fest

a different kind of prince

unholy

amnesiac alex

harringrove crossover

double hanahaki

Law & Order: Criminal Intent

untitled Bobby/Alex

Original Works

the lies we tell ourselves

crossing the line

a christmas visit

bachelor/ette

back to that one

boarder

big decisions

drunk dialing bonus chapter

two little lines

bookstore

childhood friends

chocolate scones

connor

evil mum

bearded sex god

my nz celebrity crush

sam and nora

only one bed

plumber guy

poly

poolside

blast from the past

the promises we make

ghost romance

virgin heroes 2

the secrets we keep

mocktails

just one week

coming home

venice untitled

the list

consider yourself tagged... <3

[blossom-hwa]

hi it's my first time requesting hehe

can i request modern au for if you'll have me yeonjun?

- chip, it's chip we need modern au yeonjun annotating books lina (no pressure tho :^))

I died writing this. it was amazing. I need to soak in regency era yeonjun a lot more (including the modernized version). thank you chip <3

(in case this is a bit confusing, this is a sort of spitball modern au take on my regency au for yeonjun, if you'll have me!)

summertime drabble fest: send me an idol from the list (Stray Kids, Ateez, TXT, Seventeen) + a prompt (check out the post for ideas) and I’ll write a drabble for you!

REQUESTS CLOSED!

~

Title: In This World, and the Next

Pairing: Yeonjun x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 1.4k

Genre: fluff, angst, university!au, modern take on if you'll have me

Warnings: cursing

~

In one world, you meet Yeonjun under crystal chandeliers in a grand ballroom, candlelight glinting off jewels and glass and carefully coiffed hairdos. He knows you immediately, the season's diamond crowned by the queen herself, and you know him, the famed Duke of Hastings and the most eligible bachelor in town, and that is how it begins—with smooth, sweet words, a kiss to gloved knuckles, and a lovely turn around the dance floor. 

In another world, however, where pens have replaced quills, where Lady Whistledown's society paper is a campus journal's gossip column, where long silk gowns and elegant jewels have turned into crop tops and jeans and sneakers and boots, you meet because of a mutual friend, and a party, and some certain desperation equal to that which you both had in a previous life. 

Enter Yeonjun Choi—no longer Duke of Hastings but son of CEO Choi of a fashion brand under the same name. Business and fashion double major, the best (or most eccentrically) dressed student on HYBE campus, desperately looking for a fake date to his cousin's wedding so that his parents will shut up for just a little bit about finding a decent partner. 

And from the other side of the stage, enter Y/N L/N—not the season's diamond as you once were, but a transfer student to HYBE university after a family member's illness brought you back to your hometown. A literature and creative writing double major, not too fussed about spending the rest of your university years back home, but still a little lost on a campus you don't know with very few friends left to hang around. But there's Wooyoung, and then there's Taehyun, and in the end, because of both of them—

There's Yeonjun. 

Smooth, as he is in a previous life. Charming, as he is in a previous life. Handsome, and sweet, and respectful in a way most men of his station aren't. You like him and he likes you, and so when he broaches the idea of a fake date (just once, just to get his parents off his back and so he doesn't have to show up single to yet another wedding), you don't take long to say yes. Because it's Yeonjun and he's charming and sweet and has offered to pay for everything (no expense on your part because he's the one who asked). 

The wedding is several months away. Which, in your opinion, gives you several months to not think about this at all. But then Yeonjun texts you one day with something about wedding clothes, and that's when it really starts. 

Not a grand ballroom. Not a quadrille around the dance floor. Just an apologetic, very sweet text asking if you have anything suitable to wear, and upon your horrific realization that you do not, another text offering to buy or make you something. 

You say no, of course. You can find something, you're sure, or can borrow an outfit off a friend. But Yeonjun insists—"I'm making something for a class anyway, it may as well go to you"—and with that as his excuse he schedules you for measurings and fittings and leaves you reeling with what in the fuck just happened. 

And so you learn Yeonjun. Beyond the charming smile he presents to everyone except his closest friends, beyond the fashionista who's the constant face of his family's company—you learn the Yeonjun with sleep-mussed hair and pins sticking out his mouth, the one slumped over his textbooks at one in the morning after a botched fitting that you made him push off until the next day after he nearly fell asleep on top of you. You learn the softness underlying that cool, unbothered exterior, and bit by bit, you allow him to learn the pieces of your soul that create you. The books you love and why, the tiny poem excerpts you've written and aren't sure about, the way you look at three am with tears running down your cheeks because stress and worries hit in the middle of a fitting and no one's around to see you except Yeonjun so it must be okay. 

By the day of the wedding, you can't help but feel like the fakeness of this date...isn't so fake after all.

It's lovely. Yeonjun's cousin is very sweet, and her husband is very kind. His parents are ecstatic at his no-longer-single status which makes you feel a little bad for basically lying to their faces, but you don't get to linger on that much in the whirlwind of the moment. The clothes Yeonjun made for you fit like a glove, showing off all of your best features, and it's not hard to smile when the wedded couple looks so happy, when the food is so good and the guests are all laughing, when Yeonjun is standing next to you, holding your hand, and beaming gently at the world. 

Then you go back to university, and everything ends. 

He doesn't ignore you. Not exactly. But it's like with the end of the wedding, with the end of those weeks of him fitting the outfit to your exact dimensions, there's just...nothing. Which doesn't make sense to you—you're certain you're not that terrible of a read on character, not that bad at judging interest, but you barely talk to Yeonjun now and you'd be half convinced the past few weeks were a fever dream if the outfit he made for you wasn't still hanging in your closet, pristine and lovely as ever. 

In another world, your anger and sadness and loneliness drives you to depression, to a gray cloud over your head that flares to a lightning storm when provoked just once. In this one, you hunt him down first. 

And you find that your feelings weren't as unrequited as Yeonjun's actions had at first led you to believe.

There are tears. Two choked throats, a lot of awkwardness, a bit of yelling. But in the end there's a smile on Yeonjun's face, not the cool, confident curve of his lips that he pastes on to show the world but something so much softer, so much sweeter, so much more vulnerable than you've ever seen. 

There's a smile to match on your lips, too. 

In this world, there are tablets and iPhones instead of paper and quills. In this world, the gossip column of your university journal is even more cutting than Lady Whistledown's barbed society papers, and it wastes no time analyzing every piece of your not-relationship with Yeonjun just as much as it scrutinizes every moment of eye contact you share after the air has cleared and you can smile again. But for soulmates in one world, they'll find a way in every other world where they meet. 

In this universe, you still read Yeonjun poetry when the sun has set and no one is awake to hear your voice but your love and the stars. In this universe, he still takes an interest in the books you love, begins scribbling his own notes and reactions and doodles into the space between your own careful annotations like little presents for you to find. You still dance with him, dance with him everywhere—at the gala opening his father's latest fashion collection, at the clubs around your university, in your eventually shared apartment under the bright ceiling lights, no music but your giggles in your ears. 

Love is not solely turmoil, nor is it solely peace. In both worlds and all the others in which you meet, you learn this lesson the hard way. But what matters is that you do learn—that you find each other, that you fight for each other, that you come together through your conscious decisions to continue loving one another all the way to the end. 

(In one world, Yeonjun kisses you in bed, whispering promises of love in your ears for as long as you'll have him. In another, you're the one who pins him down on the couch of your shared apartment, smiling almost too hard to kiss him, as you assure him you'll have him forever, now, and always.)

[onlythebravest]

For the Wip titles thing!!

wolves - want to know if it's A/B/O or not lol performing abroad HL intern copy - hehe tell me more Interview situation - sounds angsty roommate au - I know this one but do explain it to the class

hello A. fun fact, you know all of these 😂 probably should've chosen something else if you wanted something brand new information

wolves

it is a/b/o! it's also them being shifters. and it got its title from the first two lines in it.

“There are wolves in the living room.” “Oh, for fucks sake.”

I started writing this before I had read any fics that changed the a/b/o dynamics, as in making the omega the dom and the alpha the sub, because I wanted to read it but couldn't find any. I know there are a few (yours, for example, and I know that @sadaveniren has a great one) I just wasn't the best at navigating ao3 back then. but since I found some, I felt a bit underqualified to write it and pretty much abandoned it

performing abroad HL intern copy

okay, I changed my mind. you probably don't know this one. not that well at least. this was what I set out to write when I started writing the fic that eventually turned into my canon fest fic, snapshots of moments. I started writing it as a fun thing, but then it quickly turned into something very angsty and clingy Harry (which is now chapter 10). the idea was that there were two interns in this venue 1D was playing and they were acting about as subtly as HL with their feelings, but claimed they were "just good friends".

Interview situation

this is also originally for the canon fest fic, but you didn't allow me to add it because it was too angsty. or you suggested that I'd post it on its own because it would be too heavy for the rest of the drabbles. so yes, it is angsty. very angsty.

I can share a snippet from it (that you, A, probably will regret reading if you read it. also, anyone who doesn't like angst and fics about closeting, just skip this)

Because no matter how much it hurts to ignore the person you love, that is still easier to take than constantly being told off when you show your lover your love.

That’s why they pretend the other isn’t a meter away. That’s why they take a detour when they are changing spots on stage. That’s why they never say the other's name.

They can’t take being told their love is wrong all the time. It’s bad enough when they mess up.

They get punished. They get their private time taken away. They get their off days turned into scheduled obligations. They get separated. They get placed on opposite ends of the earth, kissing people they wished they never had met.

Today is one of those days. A sudden change of plans, an unscheduled interview and their private time cut short.

Fuck, Louis wants to cry.

(sorry A 🙈)

roommate au

yes, you do know this one. this is the fic I'm planning to write for the @omegaharryfest. the prompt I came up with is "Harry and his roommate never talk, but it is in his bed he ends up every night." and no, it's not as sexy and smutty as it sounds. it's angsty, sad and I think Harry might be depressed. but it has touch starvation! which is a bit ironic, since the fic I wrote for the last round of the fest was also centered around touch starvation. oh well. I love that trope 😂

here’s the list of titles

[sugareey-makes-stuff]

I posted 3,365 times in 2022

That's 2,962 more posts than 2021!

105 posts created (3%)

3,260 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@akindplace

@danpuff-ao3

@crazybutgood

@awesomedig

@veelawings

I tagged 2,315 of my posts in 2022

Only 31% of my posts had no tags

#hp fanart - 451 posts

#drarry - 439 posts

#hp fanfic - 324 posts

#art rec - 318 posts

#signal boost - 296 posts

#yesss i love this - 232 posts

#hp fests - 222 posts

#harry potter - 218 posts

#draco malfoy - 184 posts

#drarry fanart - 171 posts

Longest Tag: 39 characters

#and it shouldn't always have to be free

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I’ve got one more character portrait I wanted to get out of my system before I need to work on other projects, so here’s Derek for ya! I honestly wasn’t sure how Sourwolf was going to turn out, but he actually exceeded my expectations. He was thankfully easier to draw than I thought he would be (the grumpy characters I do draw are hard AF to get right), so he was a breath of fresh air. I could definitely get used to drawing him more (and maybe doing some really cool things with his eyes). Also, swooning over that facial hair and the shadows, and this general colour palette was really great to work with. You can view Derek as part of the work Snapshots of Time on AO3. Thinking about maybe working on Scott or Lydia next, but we’ll see!

191 notes - Posted September 18, 2022

#4

What were the words that you said to me that made me feel so special now? Here’s my @sterekweek-2022 contribution for the “Sing Me A Song” prompt! This art piece went in its own direction, and I just followed the path it took me. Lyrics are based on Finch’s song, “Stay With Me.” You can also view Makes Me Feel Alive on AO3.     Folks who are familiar with my work know I live for anything inspired by songs and lyrics, so I obviously had to see what I could come up with for Sterek. Thankfully, I have a gazillion songs and lyrics that work so well for them! :D Drawing an almost kiss scene was fun since there’s something raw and emotional about this moment Derek and Stiles are about to share. I loved drawing Derek’s leather jacket, and Stiles’ plaid button-ups have been teaching me new ways to work with patterns and simple clothing. And the way the mixed media spread ended up really embraces the October and spooky feels. I may have another Sterek surprise for ya for Halloween, so stay tuned!

194 notes - Posted October 30, 2022

#3

Welp! I’ve been sitting on this for quite a while, but I can now scream and squee about the gorgeous Perciver art @rxbbits made me for Where do we go from here? !! This very art piece inspired me to finish There’s a guiding light (on AO3) Since that fic deserved a follow-up and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to write something inspired by this beautiful art, I just posted a ficlet that links to both of these pieces. Title: I’m always by your side (<- on AO3) Rating: General/Teen WC: 1.5k Tags: The Burrow, Post-War, Established Relationship, Developing Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Honesty, Patronuses, Fluff and Angst, Reassurances, Conversations, Summer, Angst with a Happy Ending, Doubt, Memories, Oliver Wood-centric Summary:  In this moment, they existed. In this moment, they could truly appreciate each other’s company as the sun went down. [Or: Oliver and Percy have an honest conversation for the first time in ages and find comfort when two silver guardians make appearances again.] The ficlet uses @wood-you-rather-challenge prompts On the count of three, travel and Everything that kills me makes me feel alive and rarepair_shorts Rare Pairings Challenge 2022 prompts the Burrow and second chances. ANYWAY, my gods, I love the art that goes with this so much. I can stare at it all day because it reminds me why I love these two. They’re soooo precious!! Eeep! XD A BIG thank you to Matteo for listening to all of my ideas, talking all things Perciver with me and making this piece truly come to life. Make sure to check some of Matteo’s other Perciver art pieces or support his work! <333

268 notes - Posted March 28, 2022

#2

Well, it looks like I can finally share this, after not being able to say anything for...I don’t know for how long?! Anyway, here’s what I made for @hd-wireless this year, which is my first Drarry fest piece of the year so far! Drarry has been with me through and through for a long time, and if you were to look at my Drarry playlist, Three Days Grace’s “I Hate Everything About You” is 10000% in there. I’ve loved this song for ages, and it sums up Harry and Draco’s relationship so well, it’s not even funny. I am so glad @sunflower-swan prompted this song so I could snatch it right up! More rambling about how I came up with this piece are in my notes. Cheers, and I hope you enjoy! Title: Every Feeling That I Get (<-see the full work on AO3) Rating: Teen Medium: Digital art Content and Tags: Mirrors, Hands, Love/Hate, Sectumsempra , Fiendfyre, Getting Together, Snogging, UST, Shirtless, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Rivalry, Feelings Realization, Memories, Post-War, Growing Up, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Enemies to Lovers Summary: The events from their malicious past somehow bring Harry and Draco together in a new way.

272 notes - Posted August 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Since it’s spooky season, this has a perfect time to delve deeper into more Teen Wolf and lore. So far, it’s been really fun to geek out over monsters, mythology and all things supernatural again. To do that (for a fandom that’s still newish to me) has helped me loosen up my expectations, look forward to trying new things, and I’ve been slowly getting back on track to finish up current art and fic WIPs. I guess this was the breath of fresh air I needed get out of that corner of roadblocks and feeling stuck. It seems to be working! I’m still getting my feet wet with Sterek (a ship I didn’t know I needed and one I adore sooo much). So, here’s a little something for @averysterekfall! I may have let this one run away, since there’s art AND a triple drabble that go together. :D If you like Teen Wolf and Supernatural references/crossovers, this might be your cuppa. Cheers and enjoy! Title: It’s Enough For Now (<- on AO3) Rating: G WC: 300 (w/ art) Tags: Autumn, Blankets, Comfort, Huddling For Warmth, Feelings Realization, Uncertainty, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Episode: s01e11 Scarecrow (Supernatural), POV Stiles Stilinski, Monster of the Week, Exhaustion, Pagan Gods, Mixed Media, Digital Art, Triple Drabble Summary: “You know, I could get another blanket,” Stiles points out, breaking the silence. “Or let me grab my hoodie from the couch—”   “It’s fine,” Derek interjects in a low voice. He tugs the blanket gently, pulling Stiles closer. “Stiles…” [Or, Stiles and Derek end up sharing a blanket after coming back from the pack's latest supernatural adventure.]

314 notes - Posted October 8, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[voiceless-terror]

for the kiss prompt #11 I Almost Lost You Kiss or #29 Last Kiss if you like!

me: i don’t think i can write sad things, really

grace: gives me these prompts

i did them BOTH and here there be mag 200 spoilers

Martin tells Jon he loves him because that’s all there’s left to say.

He knew this would happen. It’s why he told the others to go early; he had seen the agony on Jon’s face as they made their choice. And even as he screams, even as he curses Jon’s decision, he can’t fault him. He’s so, so angry that it’s come to this, that all their words and their promises are nothing in the face of the powers and the rest of the world. Because it’s never been about them, in the scheme of things.  Every decision they’ve made has been for some grand plan, for someone else’s gain. Saving the world or destroying it, the stakes ever-rising. It was never just Martin and Jon. It was Martin and Jon and the Eye and the Web and the rest of the fucking world.

Martin knew even as he held him in his arms that night that it would be their last. Jon would never let what happened to him happen to someone else, not if he could prevent it but Martin’s always been about the here and now and what he can see and what he sees is the man he loves asking him to cut the tether, to kill him. There’s no certainty in his eyes but there’s hope and more than a bit of sadness. Jon doesn’t know the way anymore, not like he did before but neither does Martin, and if there’s a chance- a chance to save this world and Jon along with it- he’ll take it.

Jon smiles when Martin reaches him, and he’s crying, oh god he’s crying and Martin wants nothing more than to kiss away his tears so that’s what he does, their first kiss, chaste and sweet and presumably their last. He holds the one he loves close and with a trembling hand he drives a knife through his chest and it’s easier than he thought it would be, the flesh soft and yielding when it should be much, much harder; why is it so easy to do the one thing he swore he never would? Where he expects a scream of pain there’s just the tiniest of exhales; Jon slumps forward and if Martin closes his eyes he can imagine them somewhere else, in a cozy cabin or a cot in a basement, and when Jon goes limp he’s just surrendering to sleep and not dying and bleeding out in his arms-

The tower falls. 

_______

Jon wakes to sterile white. 

He’s dimly aware of pain, dull and numbed as it is. He takes great gasping breaths of air until the room is crowded with doctors and nurses and all goes to black once more. Eternities later, he wakes again to much more pain and a hand entwined with his. Someone is talking.

Martin is talking.

Not saying much of anything, really, just a comforting murmur of blended words but it’s a soothing melody all the same. He shifts and tries to blink the sleep from his eyes; Martin shoots to his feet at the motion.

A hiccuping sigh and a wave of tearful words. A kiss to his forehead. “I thought I’d lost you,” murmured into his hair. He can’t open his mouth to speak just yet but he hopes the pressure of his hand can convey the sentiment. There’ll be time for all of that yet, apparently, because Jon’s living and breathing and here along with everything else he brought. 

But amidst all the pain and fear and chaos he can feel lurking just outside the window, weak but waiting to feast on a world ripe for the taking, there is Martin. Because as much as he regrets his inability to see it through, his weakness is alive and speaking and smiling through tears. Jon made it about them. Because at the very last moment, when he could end it all, starve out the fears and save the other worlds, he saw the pain in Martin’s face and couldn’t go through with it. He panicked. Martin’s his reason, and that’s the real tragedy of it. 

In the end, he did what everyone wanted. The Web won, and they will never know if it was worth it because they’re somewhere else. When the guilt tastes bitter on his tongue he looks to Martin and tells himself he’s alive, you’re alive, and now you have to live with those consequences. He’s been given time, so much of it, more than he deserves. He doesn’t quite know how to make amends, doesn’t know if he ever will. But when he thrashes in his sleep at night, when he screams and sobs there is someone there to hold him down, someone who can’t grant him forgiveness but can remind him that there was a reason why he did what he did.

They’re together, and for now that will have to be enough.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30968831

[merlinrarepairfest]

Round Up 3

The third week of posting concludes with another amazing variety of rare pairs - please find them beneath the cut! <3

Title: The Mirrhe sweete bleeding, the Ash for nothing ill AO3 username: Zorbo_Jorks | @zorbojorks Rating: G Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Medium/Word Count: Fic/ 1300 words Pairing/main characters: Elena/Mithian; Elena, Mithian Up to 10 tags: First Meetings, Feasts & Banquets, Pre-Relationship, Post-Season/Series 3, Cute and Happy, Horse Talk, Bonding over Horses

Summary:

It has been months since Elena has been freed of her changeling curse, and to say the adjustment to normal princess-hood has been easy would be a flat-out lie. She is still the same clumsy, blustering young woman she ever was, only now she is aware of how embarrassing that can be for her. Especially when her father is hosting a feast for delegates of neighboring kingdoms. Even more so when one of those delegates is Princess Mithian of Nemeth, who has the keen ability to fluster Elena with just a look and a smile. Oh, how can she possibly make it through the evening?

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60066730

---

Title: but, baby, i'm a rebel AO3 username: insane_faclon | @insane-ohwhyfandoms Rating: T Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Medium/Word Count: Fic, 1.8k Pairing/main characters: Elyan/Morgana Up to 10 tags: AU - High School, Party, Underage Drinking, Sexual Harassment by Cenred, Kissing

Summary:

Morgana's crushing hard on her best friend's older brother. It's a problem.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60069466

---

Title: [ART] My Pet AO3 username: Mischel | @magicalmischel Rating: M Warnings: none Medium/Word Count: art Pairing/main characters: Morgana/Freya Up to 10 tags: digital art, light dom/sub, cat ears, bamf morgana, suggestive themes, canon divergence

Summary:

Merlin isn't the one who found and rescued Freya. Morgana is.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60077356

---

Title: Learning to Stay AO3 username: SlantedKnitting | @slantedknitting Rating: Mature Warnings: none Medium/Word Count: 5.5k Pairing/main characters: Elyan/Gwaine Up to 10 tags: canon era, Elyan has magic

Summary:

Elyan has always had a hard time staying in one place. Thoughts of leaving always tempt him, even when he’s settled in Camelot as a knight. It doesn’t help that he always has to hide who he is and hide his magic. Then he and Gwaine grow close, too close, and maybe Elyan has a reason to stay put this time. Until Gwaine discovers his secret, and all Elyan wants to do is leave. Again.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60069850

---

Title: Merlin's knight in muddy armour. AO3 username: ohmerthurcharm | @oh-merthur-charm Rating: Mature Warnings: Angst Medium/Word Count: 1,244 Pairing/main characters: Gwaine/Merlin Up to 10 tags: Merlin's magic revealed, angst, kissing, crying, escape, bathing/washing, affection, hopeful ending.

Summary:

Arthur is saved by Merlin publicly just before he gets seriously injured. The problem? His magic was revealed by his daring attempt in saving his King's life. Now he is on the run, with two pairs of footprints being tracked by the King and his men. Merlin has help and it is Sir Gwaine himself. Prompt: Gwaine has always been Merlin’s knight. By: HadrianPeverellBlack. This is for the Rare pair fest 2024.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60070792

---

Title: The Green Duvet AO3 Username: pyjamacryptid | @pyjamacryptid Rating: Gen Warnings: Major Character Death Medium/Word Count: Fanfiction / 2,292 Words Pairing/Main Characters: Gwen & Gwaine, Elyan & Gwen, Elyan/Gwaine Up to 10 Tags: Merlin (TV) Season/Series 05, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Relationship Reveal

Summary:

Gwen, finally released from Morgana’s curse, finds herself with a lot of mourning to catch up on. Gwaine, mourning more than he lets anyone know, finds Gwen in Elyan’s room. They talk and, maybe, begin to heal.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60070741

[deckthehaus]

Works for Deck the Haus are due in seven weeks! For the next several Fridays, we thought it would be fun to share some of the amazing prompts y'all came up with.

First up: NurseyDex prompts!

(This is just a sampling of the prompts we received. To view all 17 NurseyDex prompts, check out the fest page on AO3!)

Nursey is always cold so Dex decides to learn how to knit to make him a scarf (or hat or mittens). Up to you whether Dex is great at knitting or terrible, but either way Nursey loves it!

Nursey and Dex are driving somewhere together when heavy snow starts falling and they decide it’s not safe to keep driving. They go to the nearest hotel for the night but there’s only one room left and there’s only one bed!

Nursey and Dex are doubles luge partners at the Olympics. Established relationship with fluff as they compete? Established relationship with some angst with a happy ending as they deal with stress in the competition? Getting together? I just want them rocketing down icy tunnels on a tiny board together and then kissing with a happy ending.

When Dex finds out that Nursey has never been sledding, he immediately makes a plan to change that. Would love this to lead to them getting together!

Magic au where one of them is transformed by a curse into an animal or similar, the other has until the New Year to break the curse. Up to you if they know each other from the start, or if they meet while one is transformed and the other gets a lovely surprise when the curse is broken.

If one of these prompts jumps out to you, head over to Deck the Haus on AO3 and claim it!

Remember, multiple people can claim one prompt and one person can claim multiple prompts. We can't wait to see what y'all create!!

[zozo-01]

WIP Wednesday

After the angst fest that was Sunday, I feel like I owe a lot of people some fluff! So here's some Sam/Darlin' fluff from a lil story I'm working on, after some encouragement from @ejunkiet!

(I have also been using this as fluff compensation and an apology for some of my mutuals, so why not share it with everyone? Also tagging @bittersweet--chaos and @dolls-circus. I am (not) sorry for terrorizing you with snippets of the Darlin' angst. <3)

--

“What? I swear I was never shit on by the dentist! In fact, they always complimented me on my teeth.” Darlin’ waltzed over to Sam, wrapping their arms around his neck. They tilted their head to the side with a saccharine grin, mock gasping at the accusation. “Samuel Collins. Are you calling me a liar?,” Darlin’ teased. Sam sighed before holding his Darlin’ by their waist. 

“My name isn’t short for Samuel, Darlin’, it’s just Sam. And why yes, I am calling you a liar, you menace. I refuse to believe with all the junk food you eat, your teeth aren’t rotting like a corpse. If I was your dentist, I’d charge you extra for every sweet treat you eat.”

Darlin’ gave a giggle that Sam swears was the sounds from the harps in heaven. “Well maybe it’s more fun to say ‘Samuel Collins’ instead of just ‘Sam Collins’,” replied cheekily, with a smirk to match. “But, I promise that the dentist has never said anything about my teeth. Now can you pretty please make me pancakes.”

Sam rolled his eyes at Darlin’ pout. Who knew with the reputation Darlin’ held, that they can be so… adorable. He much prefers the puppy dog look they have over their usual wolf glare.

He went off to the kitchen to make Darlin’s beloved pancakes, with Darlin’ trailing close behind him. Once Sam started to gather the ingredients onto the counter, they hugged him from behind and started to gently kiss his shoulders and neck.

Sam let out a low chuckle before saying, “maybe I should start calling you ‘sugar’ for that sweet tooth you have.” Darlin’ stopped what they were doing and let out a scoff. They squeezed tighter before responding, “no, I like Darlin’ much better. I might think you’re angry at me if you don’t call me Darlin’.”

Sam squeezed an arm they had wrapped around his waist. A silent affirmation that he won’t be mad at them. “Sammy?,” Darlin' called out, their voice muffled due to their face buried in his back. Sam let out a quiet sound that prompted Darlin’ to continue. “Thank you for the pancakes.” 

Sam knew it wasn’t just the pancakes. It was for the fact that he was willing to help and heal a complete stranger. It was for the fact that he cared for them in times when they didn’t even care about themselves. For how he became a beacon of comfort. A place for Darlin’ to put down their weapons and armour. 

Sam turned around in Darlin’s arms and held their face in his hands, looking at them in their eyes. “Darlin’, you never have to thank me for anything, alright? I’ll always be here for you.”

“Forever and always?”

“Forever and always.”

[nlghtshade]

♡ january 2022 favorites

i just wanted to document and share my favorites from last month. i loved all of these works, they all moved me in one way or another and i'm so grateful to all of these creators for getting me through this long long month. and eternally grateful to @lostdrarryfics, @sitp-recs, @drarryspecificrecs, @drarry-fic-rambling and the mods for all the recent fests (@hd-erised, @gwbexchange, @hdowlpost, @slythindor100 and many more) for sharing and creating the space for all these creators to share their works !! (btw the list is in read order)

Touch (2021) by @apriicat

Wake Up and Smell the Cocoa (2021, 1.7k) by Enchanted_Jae

Trapped in a rustic cabin during a blizzard, whatever will Aurors Potter and Malfoy do to pass the time?

maybe everything will be alright (2022, 578) by @softlystarstruck

for the @drarrymicrofic prompt “good for you” | 578 words, rated T, angst with a hopeful ending | thank you @m0srael for looking over this 💕

Come Up For Air (2021, 13k) by @shiftylinguini

In a train station in Northern Europe, while waiting to attend a Quidditch convention as the representative for Finland's top Quidditch team, Draco Malfoy goes into heat. Across the platform, Harry Potter notices. Because of course he bloody does.

thaw (2021, 3.4k) by @softlystarstruck

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. A bond, a freeze, an unraveling.

Up here (everything is different) (2021, 14.6k) by @etalice

After the war, Draco left England and made a new life for himself, working as a mountain rescue specialist in the alps and trying to become an entirely different person. He's not happy, not quite, but he's safe and he's stable and it's better than nothing. Then, Harry Potter shows up.

A Kiss On New Year's Eve (2021, 14.8k) by @midnightshadeux

Everyone thought Harry was mad wanting to spend New Year's Eve working, but the laughter and drunken dancing of the patrons of the pub were far better and more relaxing than having to give speeches at the Ministry Party or feeling out of place as his friends celebrated with their family. At least it was, until Draco Malfoy strolled in.

Courage | The Death of Pride (2021, 16.9k) by @aedwritesfic

Eight years after the war, Draco Malfoy has lost everything. All he has left is his pride and his son. The life he once envisioned for himself died a long time ago. Still grieving and terrified of failing as a parent, Draco must find a way to put aside his own pride and find the courage to reach out and ask for help. Courage — mental and emotional strength in facing difficulty, adversity, danger, or temptation.

Truths, Dares, and Love Affairs (2021, 17k) by @ronbinary

NEWTs are approaching, Mind Healing is mandatory, and something is wrong with the castle. And then, there's Potter.

Second Chance for a First Kiss (2021, 4.7k) by @phd-mama

What happens in Vegas... can change everything.

In the Early Hours (2021, 10.7k) by @manixzen

It started with one night, which turned into months, which turned into years. And then, Harry realized he was in over his head.

Nobody Pinch Me (2022, 17.9k) by @dracoladon, @lazywonderlvnd

A mysteriously locked door keeps Harry and Draco trapped in the room where they're serving detention.

Two Hours Later (2020, 6.3k) by @lazywonderlvnd

Two hours after the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry runs into Malfoy outside the Room of Requirement and returns his wand.

give me something to hold onto (2021, 1.9k) by @softlystarstruck

All Draco wants is to make Harry feel good.

unshared quiet (2022, 50) by @the-starryknight

daily micro #10, for @crazybutgood , prompt ‘hum’

Zenith (2021, 20.6k) by @corvuscrowned

Desperate to find relief from worsening migraines and broken magic, Harry sets out to reach mystical hot springs that are said to grant healing and realignment. The only problem? The springs lie deep within a cursed forest that lures hikers to their death by tempting them with their greatest desires. So when Harry sees Draco Malfoy in the forest, he must be hallucinating. Right? Or: A hero’s journey but gay.

(Not) In Control (2018, 4.7k) by @l0vegl0wsinthedark

He doesn’t question it, Harry, when Draco doesn’t relinquish his grip on Harry’s wrists, willingly tipping his head back and sighing with each laving suck Draco bites into his neck, little tremors wracking him by the time Draco lifts ruthless teeth off his thoroughly bruised throat. “Keep your hands here, hm?” Draco cajoles, finally releasing his wrist, and Harry blinks, a tiny crease appearing between his bushy eyebrows, the slight haze of intoxication still evident in his eyes despite the shower, but keeps his hands, palms up, on either side of his head. Draco smiles softly, nuzzling his jaw before gnawing his way up, stubble scratching his lips and tongue, and running the tip of his nose around the curve of Harry’s ear. “Sometimes you’re not in control, Harry. And that’s okay.” Tonight, Draco takes the reins; Harry yields, willingly.

The Invisible Man (2014, 9.9k) by Faith Wood (faithwood)

Sometimes unforeseen side effects aren't the worst thing that can happen to a person.

possessive Draco and clueless Harry (2022) by @cuckooboo

'princess' ficlet (2021, ~500) by @academicdisaster24

Drarry, E, praise kink, possession kink, light bondage, power bottom!Draco, nonbinary!Draco, Harry is just whipped as fuck.

the squad as babies! (2020) by @lynnlemony

How to Handle a Matzo Ball Soup Emergency (2018, 22k) by Blowfish_Diaries

Harry, having left the Wizarding World after his divorce, inherits a deli in a trendy part of London. Draco wanders in and falls in love - with the food. And certainly not with the infuriatingly-fit-father-of-three who runs the place. A tale of growing up and families of choice; of awkward hugs and new best friends.

also i'm not 100% sure I was able to link/@ all the authors properly, if anyone knows the @ for some of the authors i'd love to tag them! ♡

[marblemoovt]

Tattoo - Chrissy Cunningham/Eddie Munson

Masterlist

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: Fluff. A bit of angst cause Chrissy is a traumatized bean. Mentions of ED and abuse.

Summary:

Chrissy decides to get a tattoo, and who better to accompany her than her boyfriend, Eddie?

A submission for Hellcheer Fest. Prompt: "Take me to get a tattoo."

------

“It’s only a tattoo, sweetheart.” Eddie winces at his poor choice of words, but Chrissy understands what he’s trying to say. She bites her lip to prevent the tears from spilling.

“Yeah, but my mom can be… overwhelming.” Chrissy knows that ‘overwhelming’ is an understatement. Words cannot express how terrible her mother is, but Chrissy’s learning to vocalize it.

Eddie smiles wryly and presses a kiss to her knuckles. “Really? I hadn’t noticed,” he says. His shoulder receives a playful smack from Chrissy. He gasps and dramatically throws his shoulder back. She giggles, and he grins so much that his cheeks hurt. “No, but seriously, Chris. Fuck Laura Cunningham.”

“Eddie!” Chrissy gasps.

“You’re right. That’s a bit too bold for your first tattoo. Maybe for your second one, then. I’m thinking right across the forehead would be good.” His face nearly splits in half at how comically wide her eyes grow.

Note:

Welcome to my debut in the Stranger Things fandom! I wanted to write something for Eddie and Chrissy after seeing their chemistry in the first episode of season four, and when I saw there was a hellcheer fest, I immediately knew I had to participate! This fic has honestly been sitting in my drafts for too long and, like most of my fic do, grew monstrously in its word count.

This was really fun for me to write, and I encourage you all to check out all the other submissions! Link to Hellcheer Fest

Warning!!! There are mentions of EDs and abuse. I only delve into Chrissy's struggles in this fic if that gives you a better idea of what to expect. This is mainly fluff but our two beans are still recovering from their traumas, so please exercise caution when reading if any of those topics are triggers for you.

Happy Reading! ヾ(•ω•`)o

─── �� ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

“Nervous?” Eddie asks, holding Chrissy’s hand while her other arm is prepped for tattooing. She hums and shakes her head, strawberry-blonde locks whipping around her face. He tucks some of her hair behind her ear to unveil her beaming smile. He doesn’t comment on how she’s holding his hand tighter than usual. 

“Just excited for my first tattoo. My parents—well, you know how they are.” Chrissy doesn’t need to finish because Eddie knows all too well what her parents are like. 

“Ah yes, the pool party incident of ‘86.” Eddie looks away into the distance and pretends to reminisce. He turns back to her and grins wolfishly. “Your mother is much more agreeable when she’s unconscious,” referring to how Laura Cunningham fainted when she saw his assortment of tattoos. 

Chrissy giggles. “My mother was convinced they were satanic symbols embedded into your skin. And the lecture she gave me when I called them your ‘sweet ol’ tatties.’” Chrissy shakes her head and bites her lip to contain her laughter. She’s already been scolded for moving too much. “‘Christina Cunningham, how dare you invite that Munson boy and allow him to brandish his dark marks,’” Chrissy mocks in her best Laura impression. 

“Dark marks? Sounds like something an evil wizard would have.” Eddie makes a mental note to incorporate the idea into a campaign. Before he can brainstorm further, Chrissy squeezes his hand and smiles cheekily at him.

“You can add dark sorcerer to your resume,” she says. He snorts and kisses the crown of her head.

“Ah yes, my ever-growing list. I’ll add it right under cult leader.” He sticks his tongue out, but with only one hand, his devil face looks ridiculous with a missing horn. It works as intended when Chrissy grins at him, her lips curling upward in amusement.

“I see you’re a man of many talents.” Chrissy plays with the sleeve of his jacket, rubbing the leather between her fingers.

“What can I say? I’m multi-faceted.” Eddie studies her expression and grins. By now, her cheeks are rosy and glowing. She tugs on his hand and avoids his gaze, lips pursed in thought. He waits patiently and rubs his thumb across the back of her hand. She turns to look up at him through her long lashes.

“Hey, Eddie? Thanks for not freaking out earlier.” Her tone is borderline apologetic, and it makes Eddie frown. He crouches down so they’re at eye level and holds her hand in both of his. His hands are so warm, and they swallow her dainty hand. Safe. Eddie makes her feel safe. 

“It’s only a tattoo, sweetheart.” Eddie winces at his poor choice of words, but Chrissy understands what he’s trying to say. She bites her lip to prevent the tears from spilling. 

“Yeah, but my mom can be… overwhelming.” Chrissy knows that ‘overwhelming’ is an understatement. Words cannot express how terrible her mother is, but Chrissy’s learning to vocalize it. 

Eddie smiles wryly and presses a kiss to her knuckles. “Really? I hadn’t noticed,” he says. His shoulder receives a playful smack from Chrissy. He gasps and dramatically throws his shoulder back. She giggles, and he grins so much that his cheeks hurt. “No, but seriously, Chris. Fuck Laura Cunningham.”

“Eddie!” Chrissy gasps.

“You’re right. That’s a bit too bold for your first tattoo. Maybe for your second one, then. I’m thinking right across the forehead would be good.” His face nearly splits in half at how comically wide her eyes grow. 

“Oh my God, Eddie. She’ll kill me.” She knows he’s only teasing her, but the dread that fills her stomach at the thought of it is suffocating. Eddie notices her distress, and he brings a hand up to her cheek. She nuzzles into his touch and tries to focus on her breathing as her therapist taught her. Eddie joins her breathing exercise, and she squeezes his hand.

“You’re 18, princess,” he reminds her. She shakes her head slowly, and a tear rolls down her cheek.

“I still have to live with her.” She shudders. She graduated at the top of her class, valedictorian, honour roll. But none of that means anything to Laura Cunningham. All her mother could see was Chrissy quitting cheerleading, Chrissy breaking up with Jason Carver—who is ‘such a nice, upstanding man’—and Chrissy dating the local freak and drug dealer. Chrissy thinks the list is probably infinite; her mother will always find a fault.

Before she can spiral, Eddie brushes her tears away and kisses the corners of her eyes. “Only until the semester starts.” He stares into her eyes, and any trace of playfulness is gone. “You know my offer still stands, right?” She licks her lips and hesitantly opens her mouth.

“I don’t want to impose or be a nuisance.” She’s spent many nights at the trailer, but living there feels like a giant leap. Living there means that she’s ready to leave the old Chrissy behind. While she hasn’t been the ‘old Chrissy’ for months, it’s still a skeleton in her closet, a reminder of a life she never wants to return to.

Eddie knows about her struggles. He’s learned to not take it personally when she rejects his offers to help. “You’re always welcome. And you’ll never be a nuisance. Anyone who’s told you that is full of shit. Wayne adores you, and I would love nothing more than to have you there.” Her lips twitch into a smile, and his chest swells with warmth.

“Later… when you….” Chrissy stumbles over her words, not used to asking others for help. She bites her lip and stares at the ceiling for a minute until she gains the courage to look Eddie in the eye.  “At—will you help me pack?” she manages to spit out. The grin on his face is full of joy, and it makes her regret not asking sooner.  

“Are you serious?” Eddie is over the moon. That little voice in his head snarls with doubt, but he ignores it. Chrissy's cheeks go dark, and he feels like he’s placed his hand on a heater.

“I am. Unless you’re rescinding your offer?” The disappointment in her big, blue eyes does critical damage to his heart.

“And miss out on going to bed with you in my arms every night? Not a chance, princess.”

Tiny, the tattoo artist, chuckles and mumbles something about young love. “If you two are done flirting, I’m going to outline the tattoo now.” Eddie drops his hand from Chrissy’s face, and she slams her back into the seat. The couple continue holding hands, hoping the buzz of the machine will fill the awkward silence as they wait for their embarrassment to cool down. Eddie focuses on Chrissy’s arm as ink is applied to her skin. He thinks back to a few days ago that led up to this moment.

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

“I can see the gears turning in your head, darling. What’s up?” Eddie asks. Chrissy looks at him with puppy eyes, the face she always makes when she wants something. Eddie munches on some cereal as he waits for her request.

“Take me to get a tattoo?”

Eddie nearly drops the spoon in his hand. He sets it down in the bowl and pushes his breakfast aside. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” Her face scrunches up, and Eddie curses under his breath. He reaches across the table and places his hand on Chrissy’s. “I’m only making sure, Chris. They don’t exactly wash off.” 

She slowly lets out a breath and nods. “Yeah. Maybe just a small one to start?”

“Anything you want, sweetheart. Got any ideas?”

Chrissy bites her lip and shakes her head. “I’m not sure. Should it be something important to me?” She mulls over what she would like permanently displayed on her skin. Eddie pats her hand and smiles encouragingly at her. 

“It can be whatever you want it to be,” Eddie tells her. His smile turns into a grin.  “You could tattoo ‘Fuck Laura Cunningham’—which would be metal. Although from the face you’re making, you don’t think the same.” Chrissy giggles, which becomes full-blown laughter when Eddie starts wiggling his eyebrows. 

“I think she would disown me if she ever saw that tattooed on my body,” she says, shivering at the thought. She can’t lie; a part of her really wants to do it. 

Eddie props his cheek against his hand, using his other to boop her nose. “You just gotta make sure she doesn’t see it then.” Chrissy wrinkles her nose and jerks her head back to avoid his next attempt. 

“I’m still not doing it.” She shakes her head and tries to hide her grin behind her hair. She decided to leave her hair down today, her usual scrunchie on her wrist. Eddie’s bottom lip is jutting out, and his eyes look like they’re going to pop out of his head. When she snickers, Eddie’s expression returns to normal with a smug smile. 

“Maybe some pom poms?” he suggests, waving an imaginary pom pom with one hand. Chrissy’s grin falters, and Eddie freezes. 

“I do like cheerleading, but it’s always been something my mom pressured me into. There aren’t a lot of good memories associated with it.” Chrissy thinks about her uniform, which always shrank. The disappointment in her mother’s tone when her spot at the top of the pyramid was taken. For a second, Chrissy can taste bile in the back of her throat, and she takes a deep breath to quell the incoming wave of nausea. Eddie squeezes her hand, and she grounds herself with his touch. 

“What about your favourite animal? Can’t go wrong with that.” Chrissy perks up at Eddie’s suggestion. There’s a sparkle in her eyes and a rosy glow on her cheeks. She fidgets in her seat, and Eddie has to stop himself from screaming over how adorable he finds her. 

“Don’t laugh but… Hey! I said not to laugh!” she chastises. Her cheeks immediately darken, and she tries to tug her hand back, but Eddie keeps a firm grip and places a kiss on it. She stops her movements and stares at the texture of the table. The notches in the wood are old, and there are some stains she would rather remain ignorant about. 

“I can’t help it, darling. You look so cute, all flushed and embarrassed,” Eddie teases. Chrissy lets out a whine in her throat and rests her forehead on the table. The oak feels cool against her skin. 

“Seals,” she says, her voice muffled by the table. Eddie hums and tries to remember what they look like. He’s probably seen one on tv; Wayne likes to leave the nature channel on as background noise. 

“Those creatures that look like giant bouncy balls when they’re on land?” Eddie chuckles, recalling how ridiculous they look, sliding and bouncing around the ground. 

Chrissy whips her head up and says in a defensive tone, “They’re big sea puppies! And they’ve got the cutest faces.” She gestures frantically with her hands, continuing to ramble about how adorable seals are. Eddie loves the way her eyes crinkle at the corners when she smiles and the little dimples that form around her mouth. 

“I don’t know, there’s a pretty cute face in front of me right now,” Eddie says. Chrissy pauses mid-ramble and narrows her eyes. 

“Are you calling me a seal?” Eddie shrugs and struggles to keep an indifferent expression on his face. He can feel Chrissy burning a hole into his head when he doesn’t respond immediately. His shoulders quiver. She might as well close her eyes if they narrow any further.

“No, I’m saying you’re cuter than one,” Eddie says, and Chrissy firmly shakes her head. 

“Then you’ve never seen a seal in person,” she says in a matter-of-fact tone. Eddie hums and tilts his head.

“And you have?” Chrissy looks at him like he’s grown a second head.

“Of course I have!” she answers. Eddie stares at her in silence, and she clears her throat. “Once… when I was seven. My grandfather came to visit.” Sensing a story, Eddie hops off the stool and leads her to the couch and—oh! Can’t forget breakfast! He grabs his bowl of cereal and sits beside her, conscious of his munches as she continues talking. “I was being difficult because I really didn’t want to go to my gymnastics class, which drove my mom crazy. I was a lot younger, so my mom….” Chrissy lets out a bitter chuckle. “She wasn’t as mean as she is now.” She licks her lips and says, “and so he offered to take me because I always listened to him. My mom practically shoved me towards him and left to self-medicate. It made me wonder at the time why she wanted to get rid of me so badly.” 

Her eyes become glossy, and Eddie scoots closer and wraps an arm around her. His cereal is forgotten on the table, too soggy to be edible anyway. Anyone who enjoys soggy cereal is weird, and that’s coming from Eddie, the local ‘freak.’ He tries his best to soothe Chrissy, telling her how much he loves her and that he’s here for her. She looks him in the eyes, and his heart breaks. “Does she not love me? Why doesn’t she want me? Thoughts that no child should ever have.” Her voice cracks between sentences, and she brings a sleeve up to wipe her eyes. 

Eddie opens his arms, and Chrissy crawls into them. He strokes her hair, and she sniffles into his shoulder. Minutes pass, and she chokes out a laugh. “I remember sitting in the back of his truck, and nothing outside the window looked familiar. I told him that he was going the wrong way for my gymnastics. ‘I thought you didn’t want to go,’ he said. I told him I didn’t want to make my mom angrier. And he said, ‘it’s ok, I’ll handle your mother. I’m not taking you to gymnastics. We’re going on an adventure,’” she recalls with a smile. 

“Sounds like the best grandpa ever,” Eddie murmurs. 

Chrissy nods enthusiastically and giggles. “He was the best.” Eddie wipes a stray tear from her cheek. She takes in a deep breath, relaxing into his embrace. “We drove for what felt like forever until he pulled into a huge parking lot. I remember holding his hand as he led me to the ticket booth. He asked for two tickets to the aquarium, and I asked, ‘what’s an aquarium?’ ‘You’ll see,’ he told me and wouldn’t tell me more no matter how many questions I asked. And when we got inside…. Oh, Eddie.” She pauses in wonder, reliving the memory. Eddie makes a mental note to bring her to an aquarium in the future. “It was beautiful. I’ve never seen so much blue in my life—and it’s my favourite colour!” Her whole body is buzzing with excitement, and it’s incredibly infectious. Eddie can’t help but smile and nod as she continues talking.

“We saw all kinds of sea creatures, and I got to touch some of them!” She goes on to describe the different textures she felt. Some of the memories cause her face to scrunch up, which in turn causes Eddie to laugh and kiss her flushed cheeks. “Eventually, we went outdoors.” Chrissy pauses and grins. “And I remember being so short, and the railing was so tall.” She exaggerates the height difference with her hand gestures. “My grandfather picked me up onto his shoulders, and I saw seals for the first time. ‘Look, grandpa! There’s puppies in the water!’ He laughed so hard and told me what they were called. He even read to me those little plaques with the creature information, and I….” The smile on her face is radiant, and Eddie wants to burn it into his memory. “I hung onto every word about seals.”

Eddie kisses the top of her head and runs his hands up and down her arms. He touches Chrissy like she’s the most precious thing in the world because that’s what she is to him. “Tell me a fact, seal expert,” Eddie says with a smirk. Chrissy’s face lights up like this is the first time someone has asked her a question on a topic she loves. His hands dig a little deeper into her skin, and he tries not to frown. 

“Hmm, ok,” Chrissy hums as she tries to think of an interesting fact, letting out a small gasp when she remembers one. “Did you know that seals are one of the closest living relatives to bears?”

“No fucking way.” Eddie refuses to believe that those cute sea blobs are in any way related to bears. “You’re not trying to pull one over me, are you?” His fingers lightly skim over her stomach, and she giggles. 

“Are you the expert, or am I?” Chrissy smirks. Chrissy Cunningham just smirked at him. Where has she been hiding this confidence? 

Eddie lets out a breathy chuckle and rests his forehead against hers. “I don’t know. It’s been over ten years since you’ve seen one. Your knowledge might be outdated.”

She huffs. “You know, there are these fantastic things called books that contain information. They can be found in the library for the public to read,” Chrissy informs him.

“I know what books are, Cunningham. I just don’t read any of the non-fiction stuff.” The corners of Chrissy’s mouth curl up, and her eyebrows raise. It’s been a while since they were on a last-name basis. 

“Well, Munson, you should try it. Maybe you can debunk my facts next time.” Eddie pulls her close and plants a trail of kisses from her shoulder to her neck. Chrissy hums in approval and tilts her head. 

“If it’s something you like, I’ll read whatever you want me to. Maybe you can recommend one of those raunchy novels I found in your room.” Chrissy mentioned before how her grandfather used to read the Hobbit to her but that she hasn’t read the Lord of the Rings series yet. Unwilling to let this injustice continue, Eddie offered—forced—his copies to Chrissy. When he came over with the books, she directed him to the bookshelf in her room, and he took the liberty to peruse her literary tastes. He’ll never let her forget what he discovered that day. 

“Eddieeee!” She shoves him back with a whine. Eddie debates adding ‘Cherry’ to the list of nicknames he has for her. Chrissy pulls some of her hair forward to hide her face.

“In order to become a Chrissy expert, I need to expand my knowledge and research topics, no matter how dangerous, to accomplish my goal.” Eddie adjusts the nonexistent glasses he’s wearing. 

Chrissy snorts and slaps his chest lightheartedly. “You’re such a dork.”

Eddie chuckles and catches her hand, holding it to prevent further attacks. “Yeah, but you think it’s endearing,” he says. No matter how much she denies it, Eddie knows that his theatrics never fails to make her laugh. He keeps to himself how laughter is a good look on her. It’s definitely not the reason he acts like a goof half the time. Nope. Not at all.

“I do.” Chrissy bites her lips and begins playing with her hair. “So… tattoo?” She looks at him with those puppy eyes again, and Eddie has to lean against the couch for support. 

He swallows the lump in his throat and says, “Right, tattoos. I know a guy.” Eddie clears his throat and can’t help but smile at Chrissy’s focused expression. He tucks the strand of hair she’s been playing with behind her ear. “His studio is outside town, so you don’t have to worry about running into anyone.” As fun as it would be to run into her mother or Jason, Eddie doesn’t think the screaming match over tattoos would be worth it.

“Did he do all of your tattoos?” Chrissy asks, fingers grazing against the inked spider peeking out under the collar of his shirt. He shivers from her touch, and a pleased smile forms on Chrissy’s lips.

“Pretty much. Tiny’s got these rad pre-designed tattoos for a fair price, or you can order a custom one.” All of Eddie’s tattoos are custom. He was adamant about wanting something unique. He was involved in the design process as much as Tiny would allow, which wasn’t much, given his talent to annoy people. But his sweet ol’ tatties turned out great, so every year, he sees Tiny for a new tattoo. 

Chrissy laughs in disbelief. “I’m sorry, his name is Tiny? Is that… is that really his name?” Her expression is more curious than put-off. 

Eddie waggles a finger at her. “Don’t let the name fool you. Tiny’s built like a mountain, and he’s covered in tattoos. As far as his real name goes, no one knows. Tiny likes to keep people guessing.” Despite the intimidating description, Chrissy doesn’t feel afraid in the slightest. 

“Well, you weren’t how I thought you’d be, so maybe it’ll be the same with him.” Chrissy’s optimistic comment causes Eddie to smirk. 

“I think you’ll be sorely disappointed, sweetheart. I’m much more handsome and charming than Tiny—don’t tell him I said that.” He finishes with a panicked look in his eyes. 

A bit of rebellion stirs inside of Chrissy, and she grins devilishly. “Now I definitely have to tell him.”

“The betrayal! The deception!” Eddie brings a hand to his chest and clenches his shirt, letting out gasps and wheezes as his body eventually goes limp. He lolls his head against the couch and shuts his eyes, leaving his tongue to poke out of his mouth. He cracks open an eye and sees Chrissy frozen in shock. Then she bursts into a fit of giggles. “The beast is dying from a broken heart, and the fair maiden does not grieve but laughs,” Eddie laments. 

Chrissy shakes her head. “Maybe she laughs because she knows the beast can be cured with a kiss.” She plays along, enjoying how silly she can be around Eddie. 

Eddie shakes his head solemnly. “I don’t think one is nearly powerful enough.” Pretending to be gravely ill is extremely difficult when your entire body is trembling with repressed laughter. Eddie bites on the inside of his cheek when Chrissy beams at him. 

“Must be a terribly dark curse, then.” She tuts and pats his head like he’s some pitiful child. 

Eddie nods. “Oh yeah. A broken heart is pretty high up on the list. Don’t you know it’s the leading cause of death of beasts in love with pretty maidens? 9 out of 10 wizards recommend at least 5 kisses as treatment.” Chrissy hums and inspects his face. “What are you doing?” Eddie asks. 

“I’m trying to figure out where to place the kisses for maximum effect,” Chrissy answers. “Now, hold still. I can’t focus with you squirming.” Eddie sits there quietly. Chrissy has a chokehold on his attention right now. Maybe that’s why it feels difficult to breathe.

 “One.” She places a kiss on his forehead and counts out loud. 

“Two.” His cheek 

“Three.” His other cheek. 

“Four.” His chin. By now, Eddie is starting to feel lightheaded and floaty, better than any weed high. 

“Aaaand five.” She plants a final kiss on his lips.  

Eddie remains stunned until his body acts on impulse. “It lives!!” He sits up like a reanimated corpse. His arms wrap around Chrissy, and he playfully bites her shoulder. She giggles and fakes screams and sounds of distress like she’s in one of those cheesy horror films. Eddie pulls away, adoration etched into his features. 

“It’s a miracle!” Chrissy throws her arms up and returns the embrace, laughing until tears come out of her eyes. 

Eddie brushes away her tears with his thumb. Warmth blooms in his chest, and he smiles. “Christ, you’re adorable, Chris,” he says.

Chrissy shrugs and grins. “What can I say? You’re rubbing off on me.”

“I like the sound of that,” Eddie says, hands resting on her waist and squeezing gently. Chrissy leans forward and brushes her lips against his. He can feel her warm breath on his face and waits for her to make the next move.

“You and me both,” Chrissy whispers into the small gap between them. Eddie holds his breath. Chrissy’s hands are cradling his face, and she’s stroking his cheeks with her thumbs. All the air in his lungs escapes in a long sigh when Chrissy pulls away. “Now that you’re no longer on the verge of death, lunch?” She looks at him with hopeful eyes, and Eddie can never deny her.

Eddie eyes the bowl of soggy cereal on the table. “Yeah. Benny’s? I’m craving some pancakes.”

Chrissy perks up at the suggestion. “Ooh, can we get the ones with berries and cream??”

Eddie stretches to place a kiss on her forehead. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.” The smile she gives him melts his insides.

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

“Can we go get pancakes after this?” Chrissy asks, barely flinching from the tattoo machine, which impresses Eddie. He definitely won’t be telling her how he teared up a little when he got his first tattoo. Tiny is finished with the outline and is now adding all the details and shading.

“With berries and cream?” Eddie asks, to which Chrissy answers with an enthusiastic nod. Her excitement is infectious. “Yeah! We’ll have a celebratory… brunch—is that what you fancy people call it?” Eddie doesn’t really understand the concept of brunch. Who decided to combine breakfast with lunch? He personally doesn’t associate specific times with his meals. If breakfast is the first meal of the day, then he’s had breakfast before at 12am—still technically his first meal. Eddie honestly thinks brunch is just an excuse for people to drink during the day without being scrutinized by others.

Chrissy’s voice brings him out of his reverie. “Former fancy person here, and brunch is more of a formal thing. At least the ones I attended growing up were.” Her nose scrunches up, and it looks like she just sucked on a lemon. Eddie knows there’s a country club on the outskirts of town where all the upper-class families play dress-up and pretend they’re better than everyone else.

“Then we’ll have frunch,” Eddie says, feeling quite proud of himself. If people can create names for mealtimes, then so can he.

Chrissy chortles. “You did not just make that up.”

Eddie grins. “I am a wordsmith, m’lady. Using my legendary powers, I have combined the word ‘freak’ with ‘brunch’.” He brings up both of his hands and smashes them together. “Thus creating ‘frunch.’”

“It sounds like you’re badly pronouncing the word ‘French,’” Chrissy points out. 

Eddie ignores the flaw in his naming choice and turns to Tiny. “Tiny, my good sir. Have you any knowledge of such an establishment that offers pancakes?”

“You are an idiot,” Tiny responds, not even looking up from Chrissy’s arm. From what Eddie can see, the tattoo is nearly done. The round face of a seal stares up at him; they are pretty cute, he has to admit.

“That wasn’t my question, but I thank you regardless for the compliment. No, but seriously. You know any places?” Eddie drops the facade. If Chrissy wants pancakes, then he’s making damn sure she gets ‘em. He feels Chrissy squeeze his arm, and he flashes her a reassuring smile.

Tiny jerks his head and says, “There’s a cafe a couple of miles up the road. They make killer pancakes.” The whirring of the machine stops. “You need to stay still, hun. I can’t make clean lines with you bouncing in your seat.”

Chrissy flushes and immediately stills her body. “I’m sorry, it’s just…. I’ve never been to a cafe before. Do you think they have cakes??” Her feet start to wiggle, and Eddie wonders if Chrissy has a supernatural ability to be cute; there’s no other explanation.

“I’ll ask to borrow their kitchen if they don’t,” Eddie says like it’s an entirely normal thing to do. He’s confident that he can charm his way in there. The awe on Chrissy’s face morphs into horror. 

“I wouldn’t survive the embarrassment,” Chrissy whispers. Her voice is low and solemn.

Eddie waves his hand. “You survived high school. The cafe will be a piece of cake, pun intended.” Chrissy giggles while Tiny groans.

“Tattoo’s done. Thank god because I can’t stand to be in this room any longer,” Tiny huffs and looks at Eddie with exasperation. Eddie knows he can be an annoying gremlin, but he thinks Tiny secretly likes it. Chrissy lets out a little gasp, and Eddie watches her reaction unfold.

“It’s so cute!” Chrissy gushes over her tattoo. She traces the shape of the seal; the skin is tender and red. “I love it so much!” Chrissy is a ball of sunshine right now, and Eddie is basking in her light. The baby seal on her arm is frankly adorable, and the flowers around it are a nice touch. Sure, it’s nothing like Eddie's tattoos, but the smile on Chrissy’s face is everything. Warm affection blooms in his chest, and he resists the urge to shower her with kisses, wanting to avoid further antagonizing Tiny. 

“Looks great, man. How much do I owe ya?” Eddie asks, reaching for his wallet. He has to stifle a laugh when Chrissy gapes at him with wide eyes.

“Oh no, Eddie. I can pay for this.” Chrissy reaches into her pocket and pulls out a bundle of cash. Every birthday and holiday, she sets some money aside to buy things she wants. She remembers how careful she had to be about buying anything that would be visible to the public eye. Cassettes and books were always a safe bet if she hid them well enough, but anything worn would be scrutinized by Laura. Every article of clothing would come back smaller from the laundry because ‘sometimes clothes just shrink in the wash, and if they didn’t, then you must be getting fat.’ Some of her accessories or makeup would vanish under the pretense that it’s not ‘appropriate’ for her to wear. ‘How embarrassed would Jason feel standing next to a tramp?’’ Laura’s words are venom dripping into Chrissy’s ears. 

Sometimes Chrissy will stare at the garden in their front yard, watching Laura fret over the weeds that are suffocating her precious plants. Every flower and bush is meticulously trimmed. If a seedling isn’t up to standard, it’s ripped out of the soil and tossed into the compost. Often times there is nothing wrong with the flower. Chrissy thinks it’s still beautiful; Laura thinks it’s a disgrace. Even if the flower appears without flaws, Laura will always find something wrong with it—find some way it could be better. Chrissy doesn’t want to dwell on these thoughts much longer. She has a tattoo now, a permanent mark inked into her skin for the world to see. And screw what Laura Cunningham will have to say about it.

During her mental battle, Eddie hands money to Tiny before Chrissy is aware. Her face is full of betrayal when she snaps out of her daze and sees that Eddie has paid for her tattoo. Eddie presses a kiss to the crown of her head, and he plays with her hair. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Consider it a gift to celebrate the start of your rebellious streak,” he says. 

Chrissy is hesitant but finally relents. “Fine, but only if you let me pay for lunch.” She gives him puppy-dog eyes for good measure. 

Eddie grins and holds out his hand for her to shake. “You got yourself a deal, Cunningham.”

After saying goodbye to Tiny, the two of them get into Eddie’s van. The drive to the cafe is silent except for the low thrum of music. Chrissy watches the landscape blur past the window, and she has to be careful to not make herself nauseous. The smell of weed permanently lingers in the van, and it sends her stomach into a frenzy. One thing she learned from getting high is that her appetite increases, like, a lot. 

The first time she succumbed to the munchies, she managed to eat two whole pizza slices before feeling disgusted with herself. Eddie comforted her and told her his opinion. But he also told her he wouldn’t stop her from going to the bathroom if she absolutely felt the need to. She struggled but managed to refrain from throwing up. The smile on Eddie’s face when she downed it all with a soda… it’s what keeps her eating most days. Her stomach rumbles, and Eddie chuckles. He places his hand on her thigh and squeezes gently.

“Almost there, princess.” The roads are empty, so Eddie sneaks a peek at his girlfriend. She is practically vibrating in her seat with excitement. Her shoes are tapping against the floormat to the beat of the music, and she looks out of the window every few seconds to catch a glimpse of their destination. God, she’s too fucking cute.

Chrissy laughs and puts her hand on top of Eddie’s. She says, “I can’t help but get excited every time I think about what they might sell at the cafe.” Cafes mean carbs, sugar, butter, and anything delicious that Chrissy isn’t supposed to have. But she doesn’t have to worry about that anymore—she doesn’t have to sustain herself on air. 

Eddie grimaces when he sees the conflicting look in her eyes. In an attempt to cheer her up, he offers, “I’ll buy you one of those lattes.” He’s no coffee connoisseur, but it’s a drink he’s heard Nancy and Robin mention in passing. From what he understood, it’s coffee and steamed milk.

Chrissy perks up at the mention of a latte, another forbidden drink. The only way she was allowed to have her coffee was black. No sugar. No milk. “We already agreed that I would pay for lunch,” Chrissy reminds him. “We shook on it.” She doesn’t want him to pay for everything today. 

“Yeah, but I’m paying for your drink,” Eddie emphasizes the difference, but Chrissy knows better. If she lets him pay for her drink, he’ll end up paying for their entire bill. 

Chrissy snorts and shakes her head. “That is not a loophole, Eddie.”

“Au contraire, I think it is,” Eddie says. They never specified what lunch entails, and he feels like spoiling her today. 

Chrissy crosses her arms. “Using French does not make you more right. Where did you hear that phrase anyway?”

“Sorry, princess, but I’m buying you one of those obnoxiously named drinks.” Eddie dodges her question.

“Then I get to buy you an equally obnoxious drink,” Chrissy counters, offering a compromise. 

She has that little pout on her lips when she gets stubborn, and Eddie melts inside. He pats her knee and says, “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

They pull into the cafe parking lot, and it’s fairly empty. Cars are sparsely spread throughout, so Eddie parks just about anywhere. The smell of sugar and coffee waft into the van. Chrissy’s stomach lets out another rumble of protest. Eddie gets out of the van and jogs around to open the door for Chrissy before she can open it herself. She beams at him and takes the hand he extends to her. 

“Why thank you, good sir,” she jokes, stepping out of the van like a princess descending from her carriage. 

Eddie bows grandiosely and offers his arm. “Your Highness, may I have the honour of escorting you to this fine establishment?”

Chrissy sighs and hooks her arm with his. “I suppose you’ll do.” She looks at him with her nose turned up, like he’s beneath her—which he honestly is, at least Eddie thinks so. 

“How benevolent of you, Princess,” Eddie says with a touched expression on his face. Chrissy only smirks and kisses his cheek in response. They continue to laugh and joke around on the walk to the entrance. When they enter the cafe, they’re instantly enveloped with the warm scent of coffee. They can practically taste the chocolate and cream on their tongues already. 

Chrissy drags Eddie to the display cases next to the cashier. “I’ve never seen so many different kinds of cake before!” she remarks in awe. Cupcakes, fruit cakes, carrot cakes, and many more sat tantalizingly in front of her.  Chrissy brings a hand up to her mouth to check for any drool. 

Eddie nudges her side gently. “What happened to pancakes?” he asks; the corners of his lips twitch upwards. 

“But, Eddie, they have cheesecake,” Chrissy says, gripping his arm tightly. 

“Oh, fuck me,” Eddie says, immediately spotting the cheesecake section. “We’re definitely having some.” Eddie loves cheesecake. Wayne made him a no-bake cheesecake once for his birthday, and 12-year-old Eddie was never the same afterwards. 

Chrissy smiles impishly at his choice of words. “Maybe after.” 

“Is that a promise?” Eddie asks, rubbing his thumb in circles on her hips. 

“I wonder,” Chrissy responds, leaning into him.

The employee at the till slams open one of the display cases and restocks some cookies. Chrissy clears her throat and stares at the different cheesecakes, willing the prickle of heat on her skin to go away. Eddie presses a kiss to the side of her head and wraps his arm comfortably around her waist. He looks at the blackboard containing the daily specials and orders the latte with the longest name he can find. They sit beside each other in a booth after placing their orders, which Chrissy promptly pays for before Eddie can take his wallet out. She sticks her tongue out at him and relishes in the small victory.

A good five minutes pass before their orders arrive. Both their drinks come in these wide mugs, and Eddie realizes the various white blobs in his latte are actually hearts. He looks at Chrissy’s mug, and her design has a cat. At least, that’s what he’s choosing to interpret the white mountain of foam as. Why is hers so much cooler? “Your latte looks absolutely ridiculous,” Eddie says.

Chrissy hums and admires the carefully crafted creature. “I think it’s cute!”

Eddie sips his drink and watches as the milk vacuums toward his mouth. The hearts are now stretched out and misshapen, a sad state compared to their initial look. “I don’t see the point in making art with coffee if it’s all going to mix in my stomach,” he comments.

Chrissy has barely touched her drink, her lips slipping into a frown whenever she attempts to take a sip. Her first taste of the latte was delicious, but the plump cat wobbled, and she almost drank the poor thing. Now she’s putting off finishing her drink in good conscience of the foam cat in her cup. It’s silly, she knows, but the cat with its little painted face is too cute to destroy. So far, she’s managed to distract Eddie, but he’ll catch on eventually. “The little hearts don’t do anything for you?” she asks.

Eddie snorts and shakes his head. “No, but I’ll tell ya what does. The fact that they named it Hazlenut Heartthrob.” Eddie clutches his chest and crumples over, his head resting on the table with a soft thud. He doesn’t dare risk a glance until Chrissy’s melodic giggles fill the booth. He peeks at her through the wild curls of his mane, grinning like a love-sick fool because he is one.

“We both knew what we were getting into when we decided to have lunch here,” Chrissy reminds him of their latte deal. She picks up her fork and digs into the cheesecake. Her content hums fill the silence, and she does a little dance in her seat.

Eddie falters for a moment. He wipes away crumbs from the right corner of her mouth. Seeing her get so excited over food shortcircuits his brain. He likes seeing her happy, plain and simple “C’mon, princess. Hazelnut Heartthrob? No one would drink something with that name.”

“You are,” Chrissy mumbles around a mouthful of cheesecake, pointing her fork at him.

Eddie rolls his eyes and takes a bite from his cheesecake. “Anyone who doesn’t have a girlfriend trying to buy them an obnoxiously named coffee,” he adds. The tang of the cream cheese melts in his mouth, and the graham cracker crust adds a crunch to the otherwise smooth texture of the cake. He groans and shovels another forkful into his mouth, washing it down with a sip of his latte. The hazelnut is faint, and he’s not even sure he can taste it. “I don’t think the names even have anything to do with the drink,” Eddie says. He’s half expecting heart palpitations any minute now, hence his fake heart attack earlier. 

Chrissy grimaces and pokes at her cake. “It’s all about presentation. If something sounds nice and looks pretty, people don’t tend to question it,” she remarks. The plate squeals as she stabs the cake and chomps another bite, making no further comments.

Eddie holds her hand and gently unclenches her fingers from the fork. “I have a feeling we’re not talking about coffee anymore,” he says with a wry smile.

Chrissy sighs and slumps in her seat. “I’m sorry, I just—it still haunts me,” she says, stumbling over her words. She hates how she can’t just move on. The Upside Down is sealed. She’s going to college soon. Jason is out of the picture. Why is this still affecting her? Why can’t she drink coffee like a normal person?

Eddie squeezes her hand. “That’s alright, darling. We’re gonna work on the apologies, but know that I’m not going anywhere,” Eddie reassures her because she has nothing to be sorry for. Chrissy survived her mother, Jason, and Vecna. The girl deserves a goddamn medal for the suffering she endured, which is why it breaks Eddie’s heart to see her in pain. He tries his best to remind her of the present, but once in a while, she gets trapped in the past. God knows Eddie still has nightmares about monster bats; all the suitcases in the world wouldn’t be enough to contain the baggage of their entire friend group. Chrissy seems to forget that it takes time to heal, a fact her therapist often reminds her of. 

Chrissy blinks away the tears in her eyes and the smile on her face wobbles. “Eddie….”

“Come here, sweetheart.” Eddie opens his arms and pulls her into a tight embrace. They sit in silence and just hold each other. Chrissy breathes in the minty smell of his toothpaste and the scent of weed that clings to his clothes like it’s woven into the fabric. Eddie strokes her hair and presses a tender kiss to her forehead. “Now that we’re stuffed with cheesecake, I have a surprise for you.”

“Is it another cheesecake?” Chrissy’s question is full of hope. 

Eddie chuckles and pecks her lips when she pouts. “No, but we can bring some home. I’m sure Wayne would appreciate it.”

“Is it… condoms?” she asks, voice timid and small. 

Eddie’s eyes widen, and he holds her hand. “Christ, Chrissy. Please tell me you’re joking.” When she bites her lip and doesn’t respond, anger begins to simmer inside Eddie. “Did someone try to surprise you with them before?” 

“Jason—he….” She’s unable to find the right words. Because even now, her mind is trying to justify Jason’s actions. She knows now that none of it was her fault, and it was a terrible gift. But self-doubt is a bitch and a relentless monster inside her head,

“Look at me, Chris. What he did was a shitty move, ok? I’m going to surprise you with so much romantic shit—flowers, chocolate—that you won’t even entertain the possibility of condoms,” Eddie rambles. His face morphs through various expressions, determination being the most prominent.

Chrissy swallows the lump in her throat and manages a watery smile. “I look forward to that,” she says.

Eddie squeezes her hand. “Now, close your eyes.”

“Ok.” Chrissy follows his instructions and closes her eyes.

“Hold out your hands,” Eddie instructs, and she can hear him fumbling around with his pockets.

Chrissy giggles. “You know, the last time someone told me to hold out my hands was in kindergarten. I ended up holding a beetle,” she says.

“Did it scare you?” Eddie asks.

Chrissy shrugs her shoulders. “No, I named it Bella.” She smiles fondly at the memory. Some kids tried to scare her, but the tables turned when she approached them and asked if they wanted to pet the beetle. She couldn’t take it home, of course. God forbid she brings home any animals, let alone insects. Her mother would have lost her mind. So Chrissy left it in the garden behind the school, coming back every recess to see if she could catch a glimpse of it again.

Eddie sounds surprised—no, impressed. “You are something else, Cunningham.” She feels something light and flat against her hands. Some sort of paper, perhaps? “Alright, you can open them,” Eddie says. 

She opens her eyes and glances down at the mystery object. “Tickets? General admission to—the aquarium?!?!” she squeals. Chrissy tackles Eddie with a hug, peppering kisses all over his face. Eddie instantly flushes red, and not even his hair can hide his embarrassment. She places one last kiss on his lips, conveying every ounce of her appreciation. Eddie can’t help but lose himself in her sparkling eyes. She is the sun, and he is feeling the gravitational pull.

Eddie caresses her cheek and says, “Let’s go see those seals, and I can judge whether or not they have the cutest faces.”

“Mhmm. You’ll find out that I’m right.” Chrissy sounds so sure of herself, but Eddie knows he’ll find a way to prove her wrong.

“I’m not gonna lie, princess. They have some stiff competition with you around,” Eddie says, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.

Chrissy shakes her head but can’t stop the smile from spreading across her face. “Since I only paid for lunch today, I still have some money left. Take me to go shopping? I want to find something to wear for our date.” She wants to surprise him with something nice, maybe even pick something out from the lingerie store. She’ll have to do a rain check on the latter idea; she needs some help from her friends for that.

“Sure. What’d you have in mind?” Eddie asks. He finishes the rest of his latte and slings his arm around her shoulder. Chrissy doesn’t vocalize it, but his arm feels comfortable there and not suffocating.

“Honestly, Eddie, I don’t know. I just want to wear something I feel good in,” Chrissy admits. The last time she bought a shirt she liked, her mother confiscated it and told her that it accentuated the rolls around her stomach. The next day, her mother wore Chrissy’s new shirt. But now she can wear what she wants, and it’s not like Eddie will steal her clothes to wear. Although she does wheeze at the image it creates in her mind.

Eddie squeezes her shoulder and smiles softly. “Alright, you can go on ahead. I’m gonna buy some cheesecake, and I’ll meet you in the van.” Chrissy nods and exits the cafe, skipping her way to the van. Her stomach is full of delicious food, and the seal on her arm is gorgeous. Life is good.

Chrissy sits in the passenger seat and sings along to the song that’s currently playing. She wonders if she would look good in a skirt with some chains. Maybe she’ll also buy a set of pyjamas; she can’t keep stealing Eddie’s clothes if she’s going to live with him. Movement from the corner of her eye catches her attention. It’s Eddie exiting the cafe with a large box that most definitely contains an entire cheesecake. She examines the aquarium tickets in her hand and bites back a grin. Chrissy can’t wait to show him the seals and all her other favourite sea creatures.

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

End Note:

I love how cute this is. Reading this gives me so much serotonin, I hope it gave you guys a mood boost as well! I'm glad I got to write for them and this lets me live in my little bubble where Eddie and Chrissy get to be happy together.

If anyone was curious, this is the tattoo I like to imagine Chrissy got.

Thanks for reading and see you guys at my next hyperfixation! (。・∀・)ノ

Reblogs are appreciated!

[hdcandyheartsfest]

H/D Candy Hearts Fest 2022: Info & FAQ

Welcome to the H/D Candy Hearts Fest! Are you a fan of fluff? Love writing fumbling first date fics? Dying for an excuse to draw sweet nose kisses? For every day in February, we will provide a prompt meant to inspire lighthearted works with Drarry as the main pairing. This is meant to be a lowkey fest, so feel free to use however many prompts on whatever day you want! Just post your work on Tumblr (tag us so we can share) or the Ao3 collection (hdcandyhearts2022) between February 1st and February 28th! Take a look at our prompt list here 💕

Guidelines

The overall theme of this fest is lighthearted works. They can be tooth-rotting fluff, funny, feel like a warm hug, or anything in-between. Of course there can be some moments of angst, but we’re all about happy endings here!

Submissions must have Draco/Harry as the main pairing, but feel free to change them up as you’d like– if you want to write trans girl Draco, nonbinary Harry, fem!Drarry, or anything else, go for it! Any side pairings are welcome.

Participate as much or as little as you’d like, and feel free to use prompts in any order on any day in February. Want to do every prompt? Great! Want to do just one? No problem, we can’t wait to see what you’ve made!

Feel free to combine these prompts with other fests/challenges running in February (such as @kinkuary)

Create whatever you want– fics, fanart, podfics (with author consent), playlists, moodboards, etc. If it’s any sort of fanwork, we’d love to see it!

There is no minimum or maximum word count for fics.

Mature and explicit works are welcome, just please tag appropriately on all platforms!

Please make sure to tag works appropriately for your content.

How to Participate

💘 Pick a prompt that you want to write/create for (you can do as many or as few as you’d like).

💘 Make something!

💘 Then, post anytime between February 1st and February 28th to Tumblr, Ao3, or both.

On Tumblr, follow @hdcandyheartsfest and use the tag #hdcandyheartsfest2022 on your works. We will reblog your work here (with credit!) as we’re tagged!

We will reblog all submissions to the Ao3 collection on Tumblr with credit and include the works in roundups and highlight posts beginning March 1st.

FAQ

What is the point of this fest?

A lowkey daily challenge meant to inspire lighthearted and sweet Drarry works during February.

Do I have to create a work for every single prompt/day?

No! This is like pick ‘n mix at a candy store– do however many prompts you’d like on any day you’d like, as long as it’s posted in February. This is meant to be a low-stress fest!

Are mature/explicit works allowed?

Absolutely! We just ask that they be tagged appropriately on any platform that you post your work to.

What about poly ships?

We ask that the main pairing be Draco/Harry only, but background ships can be as varied as you like!

We'd also like to note that this fest is very pro-trans people and anti-JKR 🏳️‍⚧️

Any questions? Just ask us!

- Your mod team @softlystarstruck, @corvuscrowned, & @lou-isfake 💖