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ckret2 · 4 months ago

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Pictured above: a shape's eye view of the end of the world.

The second dimension has burned; and Bill's been accidentally setting the second dimension's neighbors on fire. At the moment, the Axolotl is trying really, really hard to convince himself that these two facts are unrelated. Here, have a fic.

This is chapter 5 of an ongoing fic about the Axolotl in the wake of the Euclidean Massacre as Bill just keeps on committing atrocities. If you wanna read the earlier chapters (and/or look at more pretty art of Bill committing horrors and the Ax witnessing horrors), here's chapters one, two, three, and four.

####

As soon as the Axolotl and the Time Giant exited Dimension Zero, they were greeted with a faceful of rain. Apparently the storm cloud with the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force had been waiting for them. "The fires in the remaining dimensions around 2Δ are finally acting like normal fires," it said. "No teleporting around, no more targeting the mortals. We've got the worst ones under control. Think we'll save about 40% of Dimension 2 Zeta and 30% of Dimension 2 Epsilon. Whatever you two did in there, it helped."

"Yeah, well." The Time Giant shrugged, nearly dislodging the Axolotl from his perch draped over her shoulder. "It was one of those problems that fixes itself once you figure out what it is."

So the Time Giant had been right. The triangle's attempts to rescue "his" "people" and to stabilize his strange underworld in Dimension Zero had been what was destabilizing all the other dimensions. As much of a relief as it was to hear the situation was improving... part of the Axolotl had hoped that the fires were still as untamed as ever—because that would have meant the triangle wasn't guilty of perpetuating the blaze.

(If the triangle wasn't actively working to keep Dimension Zero stable, how much longer until it collapsed and erased all its imprisoned souls from existence? Would it be long enough to get them all out?)

The cloud asked, "So, did you find out what destroyed 2Δ?" Right. The Axolotl had almost forgotten that was what they'd originally been looking for.

The Time Giant shook her head grimly.��"Didn't see any sign of it. But I've got a suspicion who did it."

The Axolotl said sharply, "All we have is circumstantial evidence." And he'd ripped into more than one god who'd tried to damn a mortal based on circumstantial evidence.

The cloud's sunbeam darted between their faces. Slowly, it said, "I take it you mean our triangular friend. I don't have any proof yet about the original fire; but he's been spreading the fire, I know that much."

"How did you know?" the Axolotl asked. He and the Time Giant had only just learned it themselves inside Dimension Zero.

"We've been interviewing some refugees while you were out. I—think you'll want to speak to them." The cloud directed this statement to the Axolotl.

The Time Giant said, "Later. The triangle says he's willing to move his people to another dimension." She gestured toward VENDOR, flanked by the two cops THEY'd apparently adopted as THEIR personal escorts. THEY were ranting into a phone that the crab-looking cop was holding up for them. "So we've gotta go discuss refugee stuff with Vendy McVendface."

"VENDOR," the cloud corrected.

"Vend 'er? I hardly even know 'er!"

The gods turned to stare at the border of Dimension Zero as the triangle laughed at his own joke until he wheezed. "I had to. It was sitting right there! It woulda been a crime not to pick it up!" His cackles slowly petered out. "What, no laughs? Maybe the joke doesn't translate."

The Time Giant shrugged. "I kinda thought it was funny."

"Ah, whatever."

"Have you been listening the whole time?" the Axolotl asked, not sure whether to be amused or mortified.

"Don't worry about it, I've got something more important to say." He zipped up along the surface of Dimension Zero's border until he was eye level with the Time Giant. "Hey, Hourglass. I didn't say I'm ready to move my people. I said I'm ready to talk about moving. Your guy better sell me on it. If your offer isn't worth it, we're not leaving."

"Are you serious?" She screwed up her face. "Ain't not being erased from existence worth it?"

"I have very high standards. And there are fates worse than death."

"Name one."

The triangle only thought about it a second before he answered, "Captivity."

####

It wasn't until the Axolotl and the Time Giant left the border of Dimension Zero that the Axolotl realized, the moment the triangle had shown up, the storm cloud had disappeared. It was now drizzling surreptitiously near VENDOR, waiting for them to catch up.

As they approached VENDOR, the Time Giant said, "You should give VENDOR the news."

The Axolotl gave her an affronted look. "Why me?" This wasn't his responsibility. He hadn't been hired to do a job here. He shouldn't even be here; he was essentially an over-involved lookie-loo.

"You'd be better at talking to 'em. You move in the same circles."

"I'm not a politician, I'm a lawyer."

"I'm an engineer." She took the Axolotl off her shoulder and nudged his butt to set him gently floating in VENDOR's direction.

The Axolotl twisted around to give her a resentful look, but swam toward the vending machine.

THEY ignored the Axolotl until THEY finished THEIR current call, at which point THEY snapped, "What?" and he explained the situation. Blessedly, THEY didn't ask any further questions or give him any instructions; THEY just grumbled, "Finally," and told the crab cop, "Call the Vitruvian Mandala—we'll need to find places for another ten million 2D refugees."

"And 1D," the Axolotl said.

"Yes, yes." THEY muttered under THEIR fan, "And hopefully we'll get that triangle to the afterlife he deserves and be done with him."

The Axolotl doubted THEY meant a serene eternal paradise. Pointedly, he said, "Which afterlife he goes to is his choice."

Afterlife law was his speciality. Not cases like "based on this mortal's good and bad deeds, which form has she earned for her next reincarnation?" or "has this soul earned entry into his religion's realm of the wicked, the good, or the heroic?" Those were decided on the local level.

Rather, he tended to handle inter-pantheon, sometimes even interdimensional, cases—like, "if a mortal born on one planet lives and dies on another planet, which world's afterlife has claim to his soul?" "Is a soul's right to return to her native afterlife forfeit if she's apprehended in another god's jurisdiction for crimes against reality?" "Can a death god in a dimension where wandering ghosts are banned incarcerate a ghost from a dimension where wandering is legal?" "How does a soul's right to claim an afterlife weigh against an afterlife's right to claim a soul?" "Who has the right to judge a deceased mortal in the first place?"

The Axolotl personally thought that mortals deserved to be treated as mercifully as possible—starting with respecting the dead's own choice of afterlife above all others, and ending with outlawing damnation at the interdimensional level.

The rest of the multiverse... didn't agree with him yet. He didn't intend to stop until they did.

He went on, "Case law has long established that unless the dead made other arrangements premortem, they will be taken to—in order—the afterlife of their birth, their death, or their choice. The afterlife under whose jurisdiction the triangle lived and died has been destroyed, so he can go to any afterlife that says they're willing to take him, whether or not you think it's what he deserves—"

VENDOR's camera rolled and THEY impatiently beeped acknowledgment. "Do you mind, I'm on the phone." THEY turned THEIR back on the Axolotl to focus on THEIR next call. Yeah, most gods didn't like being told they couldn't just smite and damn whoever they felt like.

The storm cloud called the Axolotl's attention with a fork of lightning. It said, "I'll need to help coordinate the rescue efforts with VENDOR. I can get the report on what you learned in there from the engineering inspector; but you need to go talk to some of the witnesses of the fire. Maybe you should ask the Vitruvian Mandala when He's free."

That was the second time it had told him to talk to the refugees. "Why?"

"You said that yellow triangle's your friend, right?"

"I... did, yes."

The cloud didn't explain any further. It only said, "Be careful around him."

####

VENDOR bustled around making preparations to receive ten million new refugees with absolutely no input from anyone else on the scene; the cloud's time was split between coordinating with the ATTF and getting a full debrief from the Time Giant on the conditions inside Dimension Zero; and left alone, the Axolotl found himself staring into the roiling barrier around the bloated singularity.

He swore, no matter where he looked, in the center of his view he could see a tiny, yellow, triangular pinprick of light, like an afterimage burned into his retina. No matter how deeply he looked into Dimension Zero, somehow his eyes always seemed focused on the triangle, making it appear nearer and then farther, like an optical illusion.

Be careful around him. He wished his Oracle were here to ask him questions. Helping her mortal mind make sense of this whole affair might help him make sense of it himself.

He'd seen the horror in the triangle's eye when he realized that he was the one incinerating the dimensions that had once bordered his own. He'd heard the sincerity in the triangle's voice when he said he could feel the deaths of every life that fell into his dream realm—the deaths that he himself was causing. He'd felt the guilt pouring from the triangle when he realized his efforts to save "his people" from being killed were what was killing them. Whatever else the Axolotl knew, he was sure the triangle hadn't meant to cause anyone harm. He hadn't started the fires on purpose. He just... didn't know what he was doing.

And "his people"—what did that mean?

Maybe some of the people in the triangle's dance party were from his dimension. The Axolotl couldn't totally confirm that they weren't; if the triangle had somehow survived, then why not others?

But it was undeniable that the triangle had been "rescuing"/kidnapping people from other dimensions, and he talked about the people he'd rescued no differently from the people from his own dimension.

Why? Had members of his species spread to neighboring dimensions? Or had his species come from another? Had his people established diplomatic relationships with cultures in neighboring universes, enough for them to consider themselves one people?

"Certainly not," said the Vitruvian Mandala.

He was a god from one of the worlds in Dimension 2 Gamma that the ATTF had managed to evacuate before the dimension was fully incinerated. Now, He was just another refugee, huddled with His confused, terrified people on one of the temporary worlds provided by VENDOR, curved uncomfortably atop the spherical planet. He had to be reeling from the loss of His home just as much as His people were—if not more, since He had known and seen and done and loved much more that any single mortal could. But nevertheless, He'd immediately stepped up to assist with organizing the rescue services, acting as a liaison between VENDOR and the 2D mortals to find new homes for them.

And some of His people had been among the ones dragged into Dimension Zero—which was no doubt why the cloud had suggested the Axolotl speak to Him.

The Vitruvian Mandala may have been a minor creation god (He'd only created a galaxy) but He was more than powerful enough to know whether any of His people had ever made interdimensional contact. The Axolotl had waited until He had a moment to spare from assisting VENDOR, and then asked Him about their relationship with Dimension 2 Delta.

"I seeded life on all the populated worlds in My galaxy. None of My worlds have ever so much as been colonized by another galaxy in Our own dimension, much less people from another dimension," He said. "And We're a young galaxy—the most advanced starfarers have hardly ventured beyond their own solar systems; none have left Our dimension."

"And they've never spoken to other dimensions...?"

"No. The first contact We ever had with 'Dimension 2 Delta'—or what was left of it—was when the Magister Mentium began dragging My people into his underworld. The leaders I've had a chance to speak to from Dimension 2 Epsilon and Dimension 2 Zeta have told Me the same. " He called the triangle 'Magister Mentium' without any of the halting awkwardness the Axolotl did, or even the self-consciousness the triangle himself did. The Vitruvian Mandala had never known the triangle as anything but the Magister Mentium—and in His voice, it sounded not like an oversized title for a tiny triangle, but like the name of a fellow god.

But—the Axolotl had only asked the Vitruvian Mandala about Dimension 2 Delta. He hadn't brought up the Magister Mentium, nor mentioned that he was asking about the kidnapped people. "How did you know about the Magister Mentium?"

The Vitruvian Mandala said simply, "Because he introduced himself to My people before he started stealing them."

At the Axolotl's shocked silence, He said, "Do you want to see what they saw?"

####

When the agents with the ATTF had started interviewing survivors about the cosmic fire, naturally, they'd first approached the other gods for information. And then the gods had approached the mortals under their charge to get their testimonies and pass them on to the apoc agents.

The Vitruvian Mandala had telepathically extracted His people's memories and copied them into tiny glassy discs with brass rims. He sifted through dozens of discs before offering the memory of a narrow rhombus from one of His most technologically advance worlds; and the Axolotl stared through the disk to experience the mortal's memory.

The memory started with a sight that had become all too familiar to the Axolotl: a distant line of burning blue fire. It took a moment for the Axolotl to orient himself to the mortal's razor-thin two-dimensional view of her world; but once he did, he realized that, from her perspective, it wasn't a line of light. To her, it was the entire sky. The constellations of faraway flat stars had vanished, and their place was taken by an inferno.

The whole world reeked of a stench that the rhombus didn't recognize, but that the Axolotl did: burning hydrogen. In most dimensions, three-fourths of all the matter in the entire universe—including the very stars themselves—consisted of hydrogen molecules. Hydrogen burned a pale blue. The stench in the air, the pale blue light filling the sky, was the smell and sight of the raw materials of reality itself burning away.

The nearby buildings had emptied into the city streets as people abandoned their work to coming outside and stare at the burning sky. Somewhere—it seemed very far away—people were screaming, sirens were wailing, government proclamations were issuing out of radios and loudspeakers; but on these streets, on the border of the city where the sky was most visible, everyone was horribly silent.

An eerie feeling of unreality hung over the world. It felt like a scene out of a dream. The rhombus's heart filled with dread. She didn't understand why or how the sky was burning, but she felt in her bones that it must mean the end of the world.

She never imagined that it was the end of the entire universe.

And then, more real than reality itself, bright enough to blind, a radioactive-yellow shape appeared in the middle of the crowd. Over the gasps of shock, a voice that echoed between the buildings proclaimed, "Gooood evening! Lines, bis, and tris; quads, quints, and more—my beloved believers and my new friends—I'm sure you all recognize my voice from the news, but it's a pleasure to finally meet you all in the flesh!"

She wasn't sure he had any flesh to meet. He was ghostlike, as insubstantial as smoke—and just as formless as smoke, too: his shape constantly shimmered and shifted and distorted, his skin appearing and disappearing as his internal organs were exposed; one moment a leg visible, the next a hand, then no limbs at all, just his blindingly bright body. His organs were all wrong. When she could stand to squint at the specter's light, in the split seconds that his ghostly form was properly visible, she thought he looked like a triangle.

(She'd never seen the third dimension, never even attempted to imagine what a 3D shape might look like. She didn't realize his appearance shifted because he was a 2D shape tilting in 3D directions trying to lay flat on the 2D plane of Dimension 2 Gamma, and not quite succeeding. )

"Allow me to introduce myself properly: I'm the Magister Mentium, seer of the third dimension! Your gateway to the stars and stardom, your guide to prophets and profits, your mastermind and master of minds; and, if you're lucky, your new eternal party host! I'm sure the honor's all yours—but please, resist the urge to swoon! I have a limited time offer that you cannot afford to miss."

For all his self-aggrandizing, the triangle was still completely unfamiliar. She didn't see recognition in the eyes of any of the shapes around them, either. She doubted he'd ever actually been on the news at all, unless it was in one of those dubious programs about ghost hunting or UFOs.

But the triangle charged on regardless: "I'm here to bring you salvation from— Whoops! We've got a crying baby over here. Sorry junior, I'm on stage right now." She hadn't even noticed the crying until the triangle pointed it out; the whole world seemed dull and muffled and gray except for the triangle. One of his arms stretched in the child's direction and disappeared; there was a split-second flash of black fingers where the baby used to be; and then both hand and baby vanished, the baby's cries morphing into a shriek of terror that slowly faded into the unseeable distance.

"My baby!" a rectangle wailed. She rushed up to the alien triangle. "What did you do to my baby, you—" She tried to seize his arm, and let out a howl of pain as her hands burst into flame.

"Calm down, Mama, your little brat's okay!" He reached out and flicked the rectangle back. His finger hit her with the force of a catapult. She tumbled away from him through dimensions unknown, skins and bone and organs turning inside-out over each other; and slammed into a nearby building, fusing with the wall. All that was visible of her was a thin cross section of meat. The rhombus couldn't imagine where the rest of her had gone—but she could smell the burning flesh.

"Too bad I can't say the same of you." The triangle turned to stare them all down, gaze darting restlessly from face to face. His pupil was bizarrely long, animal-like; and his gaze burned. She was sure that, if his gaze had lingered on her a moment longer, she would have caught fire, too. "We're burning time, people! Would anyone else like to be excused? Last call!"

There were a few whispers, but no one moved. The crowd was petrified with fear.

"Terrrrific! Then you'd better listen close, because I only have time to say this once," the triangle said. "Here's the deal! There's only two kinds of people: the ones who hate captivity, and the ones who love it. Oh yeah, there are people who love it! Some of 'em like inflicting it, some of 'em are too stupid to think for themselves, and some of 'em just want to do terrible things and pretend they had no choice!

"But I'm here to help the rest of you—you know who you are! You're the ones who never quite tessellated with the other kids! The ones who are sick and tired of your family saying you had so much potential and asking where it's all gone! You can feel the barbs of social obligation hooking into your flesh—yeah, you there, you know what I'm talking about, I see you!—and you'd rip your own skin off if you thought it would set you free! It won't, by the way—take it from a guy who knows! Luckily for you, my way's more effective and less painful! Probably!"

In spite of their fear, more than a few shapes had started pushing closer to the triangle. He was speaking to them.

"So if you crave freedom—from work, laws, morality, physics... death..."

More than a few shapes glanced fearfully toward the sky.

"...if you want to see the stars with me—then raise your hand! Reach out to me! Watch your enemies burn and escape to a realm of dreams with no rules and no responsibilities! That's right, this way!"

As soon as he said raise your hand, it seemed like half the crowd stretched their hands out to him —and the longer he spoke, the more reached out.

She recognized some of the people reaching out—some of them were her neighbors and friends. Here was a beaten-down pentagon who'd spent his whole life being controlled, and just wanted freedom from the ruthless monsters who used and abused him. There was a controlling circle who'd spent her whole life using and abusing others, and wanted freedom to be an even more ruthless monster. They all reached toward the triangle just the same—as if they'd been waiting their whole lives for an opportunity to escape. The desperate, the downtrodden, the dastardly, the barely daring to hope. If the whole burning world felt like a bizarre dream, then this must have felt like a dream come true to them.

But to the rhombus, it felt like a nightmare. She had to fight through the crowd to back away from him.

"No need to push! If you can't see me, just hold your hand toward my voice, I can see you!"

The smell of burning existence was growing stronger.

Was this a test? An approaching apocalypse and a shapeshifting god of light and fire offering a last-minute rapture. The sky was burning—what hope did they have if they didn't go with him? More of the crowd was reaching for him now—terrified of him, but more terrified of their fate if they didn't. The rhombus reluctantly stretched out a hand.

"Thaaat's right, this way! I've got all of you!" His voice was taking on an edge of impatience. "Just—come on already! Hurry up!"

She was at just the right angle to catch a split second glimpse of the triangle through the crowd. She saw as the person closest to him reached out and grasped his hand. She saw as the first of the triangle's new followers burst into flames. The unlucky soul crumbled to ash before they had a chance to scream.

"I said no pushing."

The rhombus jerked her hand back and hoped the triangle hadn't seen her through the crowd. He wasn't offering salvation.

Most of the crowd wasn't lucky enough to get a view of the unfortunate shapes at the front who were already learning what a deal with the triangle entailed. The rhombus could hear people, as though from a vast distance, calling out to the triangle: "Take me, take me!" "I'll do anything!" It seemed like the whole world was trying to get closer to him; she thought she was the only one trying to move away, until she made it as far back as she could, where the crowd was thinning out, and caught a few other shapes in her peripheral vision who'd moved the same way. More than half the crowd was rushing in toward the triangle.

But apparently, it wasn't enough to satisfy him. "Come on, people!" That enthusiastic voice, halfway between a salesman and a camp counselor, was gone now. His voice went shrill with anxiety. "What's it gonna take?! I'm offering you idiots paradise, why won't you listen? Why don't you ever LISTEN TO ME?!"

For a moment, even though the triangle was completely hidden by the crowd, the rhombus could feel his fiery gaze sweep over her. She felt the way her skin threatened to burst into flames, and she knew he saw her.

She backed away until her rear angle bumped into the nearest building.

"Fine! You've had your chance! I've found my people!" The triangle's voice dropped to an angry snarl. "For all I care, the rest of you can burn."

For every hand that stretched out to the triangle, a black hand reached back toward them—dozens and dozens of hands. "Let's blow up this popsicle stand!"

He seized his new believers' hands.

Most of them instantly burst into flames.

Most of the rest were either jerked away into some unseeable direction like the baby had been, or else the burning ghost hand they were shaking yanked something out of them, leaving behind a dry corpse.

Reality warped and distorted in ways her eye couldn't make sense of: buildings wobbling and spilling apart like they were made of liquid; people twisting together with the buildings in sickening multi-corpsed abominations.

"Whoopsie!" The triangle let out a shrill, tittering laugh. It sounded pained. "S-still gotta get the hang of that. Oh well!" He spoke louder and faster. "I saved as many of you as I could, doing the best I can here, the rest of you don't matter, anyway byyye!"

And then he was gone.

And then they were all awake. She hadn't known they were asleep. Whatever happened hadn't been a mere shared nightmare; it was as though the layer of existence that dreams happened on had been pressed into the layer of existence where reality happened, and she hadn't even noticed until the pressure applied by the triangle lifted and the layers popped apart again.

The layers had popped apart too hard. Several of the shapes nearest the triangle that he hadn't taken with him instantly died—the tether between their souls on the plane of dreams and their bodies on the plane of reality snapped like overstretched rubber bands.

The fused corpse abominations had been left behind, still tangled and mangled with the architecture. The buildings were charred. The survivors were covered in burns they hadn't noticed—everywhere the triangle had looked was burned. Anything the triangle looked through was burned.

She was covered in burns. She could feel the burning inside her body. She raised her hands to her face and felt it peeling off.

She couldn't even feel the bright blue fires roaring down from the heavens.

And then something else lifted her out of the world, just before the reality around them began to burn.

She didn't know where all the people the triangle had taken had gone. But as she blacked out, of one thing she was sure: this higher dimension he'd claimed to see, this realm of stars and dreams? They weren't there.

Wherever they were, they'd gone down.

####

When the Axolotl emerged from the recorded memory, he was dizzy with horror. He had to lay down on the prefab planet next to the Vitruvian Mandala while he reeled.

"Are you all right?" the Vitruvian Mandala asked.

Broken, the Axolotl said, "he threw a baby."

"I know."

"Is the baby alright?"

Delicately, He said, "It's beyond the dimensions I'm able to sense."

The Axolotl curled his gills. Not the baby. "What about the rhombus?"

"Her body was too burned; she died shortly after this memory," the Vitruvian Mandala said. "But fortunately, only a small part of her ghost suffered third degree burns. With an ectoplasm graft she's expected to recovery enough to have a fairly normal afterlife. Inasmuch as any afterlife can be considered 'normal' for My people now."

The Axolotl had noted how many ghosts were mingling with the living mortals when he arrived on this planet. He hadn't wanted to say anything; he didn't know whether that was normal for their people. "I can give you the contact rituals of some interdimensional psychopomps I respect. Very professional and compassionate gods." Although they'd be cursing the Axolotl's name for millennia for throwing so much work on their desks.

"I'd appreciate that. Thank you."

The Axolotl returned the memory disc to the Vitruvian Mandala; He momentarily stared into it Himself before returning it to His collection. "He gave speeches like this all across My populated worlds. I've retrieved thousands of memories like this from My people." His voice shook; the Axolotl couldn't tell if it was with anger or grief. "There would have been more—if more had survived."

"I'm so sorry." He didn't know what else he could do for the poor god but be sorry. All the senseless, slapdash slaughter. All of it so casual and accidental.

"Why?" the Vitruvian Mandala demanded. "He didn't speak like he meant My people harm, but he couldn't have done them more harm if he'd tried! I've never heard of him before—what is he, some malevolent trickster god? Why did he do it"

"Because... he thought he was saving them." That was the only thing the Axolotl could cling to.

####

(Thanks for reading!! If the art lured you in and this is the first chapter you read, this is part 5 of a 7-or-8-or-9 part fic that keeps getting more parts, about the Axolotl in the immediate aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre. I'll be posting one chapter a week, Fridays 5pm CST, so stick around if you wanna watch the Axolotl run out of ways to pretend Bill didn't destroy his own dimension.

It's ALSO chapter 65 of an ongoing post-canon post-TBOB very-reluctantly-human Bill fic. So if you wanna read more of me writing Bill, check it out. If you're not sold on the idea of a human Bill fic, I've also got a one-shot about normal triangle Bill escaping the Theraprism if you wanna read that.

If this is NOT your first time here and you already knew all of the above: Bill got SO CLOSE to looking like a misguided good guy last chapter, and that's why he had to throw a baby.

No actually it was because it seemed really really funny. Flipped that flat little thing like a pancake.

Due to real-world reasons, this is another chapter that isn't as edited & polished as usual, so let me know if you noticed any rough spots that need buffing. And let me know what you think! Bill with his cult leader persona cranked up to 100% is probably the hardest Bill to write.)

#gravity falls axolotl #the axolotl #(for the actual chapter)#bill cipher #(for the art. and also the chapter)#gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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classygreydove · 4 months ago

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kkob/obkk fic recs

5 kkob fics that are criminally underrated - obv we all love rocks fall; scene end, Kamui Blues, and New Recruit, (if you haven't read those, I highly recommend them) but these works deserve some appreciation too!

kakaobi fluff series by Eye_like_trauma - 6k, ONGOING

G, No Archive Warnings Apply. Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito. Just a lot of fluff, crushes, and pining.

[dove's notes: Every single on of these one-shots is just precious. And also makes me laugh so hard. Peak content for this ship.]

2. Hey, Wouldn't It Be Mortifying If We Both Survived This? by Eye_like_trauma - 4k, COMPLETE

T, No Archive Warnings Apply. Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito, Kakashi & Minato & Rin & Obito. Kannabi fix-it, love confessions, feelings realization, first kiss, fluff and angst, hurt/comfort

Obito can’t hear anything beyond the cave crumbling around them, thousands of tons of rock cascading down and crushing everything it can. Can’t see beyond the dust in the air, the vibrations of the world around him. Couldn’t, anyway, because he can barely keep his eyes open. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispers into Kakashi’s hair. He knows Kakashi won’t hear him. Wouldn’t, even if he were conscious. That’s okay; the words are as much for him as they’re for Kakashi. He presses himself closer, focuses on the warmth of Kakashi as the world fades in and out, as every bit of remaining light is snuffed and he can feel debris falling on every side of them, huge and heavy and deadly, if they’re hit. He can’t feel Kakashi’s heart beat past the world falling in on itself, but he tells himself it’s there, tells himself that Kakashi’s not dead.

[dove's notes: literally my favorite confession fic. i laughed, cried a little, and felt many fuzzy feelings. bb tsundere kakashi is adorable.]

3. The Things We Found in the Ashes of Our World by shefrommo - 40k, ONGOING

M, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings. Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito, Sukea/Tobi, strangers to friends to enemies, identity shenanigans

Ironically enough, Kakashi didn't start having treasonous thoughts until after he'd already committed treason. __ Or, during a mission gone wrong, Kakashi discovers Obito's alive. He never comes back from that mission. Five years later, Team Seven stumbles across a pair of Akatsuki members--both of whom are working under false identities, both of whom were declared dead years ago.

[dove's notes: Incomplete, but so so good. Tobi and Sukea (and their headspaces) are both very well-written, as is the relationship chemistry. The identity shenanigans are great.]

4. Quiet Revolutions by Anjelle - 68K, ONGOING

T, No Archive Warnings Apply. Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito, Sakumo & Kakashi, Sakumo & Obito. Canon div, dogteeth!kk, Hidden Cloud Village worldbuilding, Identity Shenanigans, Secret Identity, anbu!obito, enemies to friends to lovers

Tensions are running high between Kumo and Konoha. Between the targeting of the Hyuga clan for their Byakugan and an unknown ANBU running interference on missions, their tentative alliance is strained and war is just one slip-up away. Not wanting any part in this, Obito is dragged into it anyway when he's given a mission to find out who instigated the attack. Instead, he gets more than he bargained for when a certain Kumo-nin lies in wait on the other side of Kamui. OR: Due to extenuating circumstances, Kakashi grows up in Kumo and decides that this strange, masked ANBU skulking around his village would make for a fun distraction from his boredom.

[dove's notes: I really enjoyed the dynamics here. obito is bamf but also an idiot. kakashi is bamf but also an idiot. so canon dynamic, pretty much. also identity intrigue, worldbuilding, this fic is full of good stuff.]

5. Truth and what it takes (and what it gives) - 11K, COMPLETE

M, Graphic Depictions of Violence. Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito, TW for mentions of suicide/suicidal ideation, Hurt/Comfort, Blood & Gore

"Kakashi's pupils are wide and fixed, like those of dead animals. The Uchiha has never seen him with that expression before. Obito wonders if he’s dreaming it, then he notices the metallic edges around his frame. The sink. A mirror. He’s looking through Kakashi’s eyes."

[dove's notes: very good relationship study of obkk during kakashi's anbu era, and the writing style is riveting. Dark, so not for fluff fans.]

#kkob #obkk #kakaobi #obikaka #obito uchiha #kakashi hatake #obkk fic rec #naruto fic rec #obito x kakashi #fanfic rec

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cakesunflower · 7 months ago

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lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 6

Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family’s restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn’t see coming–one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn’t sure they’ll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

The local park is crowded with families and friends arriving to watch a movie under the stars, the screen set up and people trying to find ideal spots to sit in. Some, like Rafe and his friends, have brought camping chairs to sit in, while others opted for blankets and cushions to lie down on. Rafe scrolls aimlessly on his phone as they wait for the movie to start, only half listening to whatever conversation Topper and Kelce are having on either side of him. The movie playing tonight is Jaws, one Rafe has seen a hundred times before, but he truthfully enjoys the outdoor movies in the park.

His mom used to take him and his sisters when he was younger, years ago, and if his dad wasn’t too busy with work, he would join them as well. But mostly, it was an outing he took part in with his mom, Sarah, and Wheezie when she was too young to even remember it, really. Rafe looked forward to those nights, because his mother would pack snacks, bring their favorite blankets so they were comfortable, and they would be nights well spent. After his mom passed, he and his sisters would come together, but the more they grew up, they got involved in their own lives, and stopped coming together. But Rafe always came, whether by himself or with his friends.

He lifts his gaze from his phone, letting his eyes wander as he pokes his cheek with his tongue, seeking out a face he has no business searching for. Rafe clenches his jaw, lifting his cap and running his fingers through his hair before settling it down backwards atop his head. He tries not to shift in his seat because whatever the hell this is, it came out of nowhere and damn near knocked Rafe on his ass. From that night she collided against him in front of his house, running away from something, something has shifted for Rafe.

Annoyingly enough, he can’t make sense of it—other than the fact that he finds himself hoping to run into Isla Carrera. And it’s a breath of fresh air, every time he does, and Rafe doesn’t think he’s felt that way around anyone, or for anyone, ever before. It’s confusing as shit, but all Rafe knows is that he sees Isla, and something settles in his chest. Something dangerously close to contentment that he can’t remember ever feeling.

As if his thoughts conjured up her presence, Rafe catches sight of Isla entering the park, and even as he subtly sits up, ignoring Topper and Kelce’s ongoing conversation, Rafe’s chest something fucking ridiculous as he watches her. Walking in with a cylindrical bag containing her camp chair, smooth legs looking long, despite her shorter height, in those denim shorts. And then there’s that smile—laughing with her friends and showing off the set of deep dimples framing her lips that he swears he can see even from where he’s sitting.

Beautiful. It’s not an epiphany of any kind, just a matter of truth that he finds himself admiring, running his tongue across his teeth as he watches them search for a place to settle. But then JJ’s arm drops around Isla’s shoulders, making her grin widen as they chat animatedly, and Rafe’s jaw is clenching before he can even help it. Rubbing a thumb along his lower lip, he wonders if there’s anything going on between Isla and JJ. He knows the two of them are close—he doesn’t need to be friends with them to know the truth of it; he’s seen them around together all of the time, and Instagram is filled with pictures with him. Though, that can also be said for the rest of her friends, too, but Rafe is stuck on the idea of Isla and JJ being together.

And it’s an idea that causes a too conspicuous burn in the middle of his chest, filling his stomach with lead that catches him off guard. But that’s been the running theme with Isla, honestly; constantly being caught off guard with his newfound desire—want, need—to see her, be around her, talk to her. Now, he watches her give JJ a friendly shrug, laughing, and he wishes that she was close enough for him to hear the sound.

He watches her and her friends settle down on a spot ahead of where he sits, slightly feeling like a creep because he can’t seem to tear his gaze away. And then he sees Isla and Sarah break away from the group once they’ve put their things down, noting that they seem to be headed towards the concession canteen, and he’s on his feet before he can think twice.

“Where’re you going?” Topper asks, halting his conversation with Kelce.

“Uh, canteen,” he answers. To play it off, he asks his friends, “You two want anything?”

Topper shakes his head while Kelce says, “Coke.”

He crosses the park, moving around people and avoiding colliding with kids who are running around excitedly, and his gaze never strays from where Isla and Sarah are standing in line. To be really fucking honest, Rafe has no idea what the hell he’s doing; he’s got nothing substantial to say to Isla, definitely not in front of his sister, yet he is being pulled towards her like a magnet. Avoiding her seems impossible.

Despite not having a plan in mind, Rafe ends up right behind them in line, greeting them with a smooth, “Ladies.”

They both turn, Sarah’s eyebrows rising as the ghost of an amused smile tugs on her mouth. “Hey, Rafe,” she says slowly.

He meets her gaze, shooting her a brotherly look that silently says don’t be weird before his gaze shifts over to Isla. Something indecipherable passes through her eyes, an interesting light brown with hints of green that could bring a grown man to his knees. The air is charged between them, and he hopes Sarah doesn’t notice as Isla presses her lips together briefly, her dimples shadowing, before dipping her chin in a nod. “Hey.”

Rafe presses his tongue to the roof of his mouth in an attempt to bite back the amused smile threatening to grow. He can tell she’s slightly unsure of what to do, a secret shared between them that has her biting the inside of her cheek, from what he can tell. Rafe has to stop his gaze from lingering on her lips, full and pink and appearing to be so soft, he wonders if that’s how they feel, too. He wonders what she tastes like, the kinds of sounds he can get her to make, and his blood pumps a little too hard as he tries to shove those thoughts to the back of his mind. Subtle amusement warms him when he notes the way she’s fiddling with the gold necklace she wears, one that reads her name.

Tearing his gaze away from Isla, he asks Sarah, “You gonna be home tonight?”

Sarah looks at him strangely. “No. I’m spending the night at John B’s.” With a snort, she adds, “Don’t worry—you’ll have the house to yourself.”

His gaze flickers upon hearing that, inconspicuously locking with Isla’s, and he watches as she rolls her lower lip into her mouth, the air between them stirring. Fortunately, Sarah doesn’t notice the exchange as it’s her and Isla’s turn to order. Sarah is quick to spin around, giving Rafe her back as she orders at the canteen, while Isla widens her eyes at Rafe, staring at him in mild disbelief that has his smirk breaking free, tongue poking the inside of his lower lip.

He sees the way her cheeks pinken, the sight stealing the air from Rafe’s lungs as Isla shakes her head in incredulity before turning as well to give the guy behind the counter her order. Rafe has to stifle a chuckle, hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts as he waits to order. Might as well get himself and Kelce a drink.

“Oh! By the way,” Sarah says, spinning to look at him. “I forgot to tell you—it was nice of you to help out Isla with her ex problem on Friday night.”

His sister smiles at him, proud, while Isla looks from Sarah to Rafe, that pink back in her cheeks. When Sarah glances at her, Isla clears her throat and says, “Yeah, uh, thanks again for that.”

Sarah hums, reaching out and patting Rafe’s chest as she teasingly quips, “I guess you have a heart, afterall.”

He rolls his eyes as Sarah snickers, turning to grab her items from the guy behind the counter. Isla seems to be fighting an amused smile, dimples making an appearance, as Sarah gathers a bunch of snacks and drinks in her arms and turns to Isla. “Can you grab the rest? I’m gonna get back before I drop all of this,” she says hurriedly, and when Isla gives her a nod, Sarah runs off, a quick, “See you later,” thrown at him before she’s gone.

As Isla gathers the rest of the things, she glances at him with an arched brow. “Can I help you?”

His grin widens as he responds, “I don’t know if you wanna know the answer to that.”

Both of her eyebrows shoot up at that as she turns his way, holding two soda cans, a small bag of chips, and a packet of M&Ms. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks slowly, stepping aside so he can order.

“Two cans of Coke, please,” he tells the guy, pulling out a five dollar bill. With his elbow resting on the counter, he looks at Isla, and the words escape him before he can think twice. “Means I wanna see you.”

She blinks, and even as he sees the realization startle across her face, coloring her cheeks, she says, “You’re seeing me now.”

Rafe knows that Isla knows exactly what he means; he sees it on her face, the way the delicate column of her throat works, and he resists the urge to widen his smile. “Have dinner with me.”

Isla’s eyes widen, lips parting in surprise as she looks up at him, as if trying to discern whether he’s joking or not. He couldn’t be more serious if he tried. He has no idea when his interest in Isla started or where it came from, but he can already tell it isn’t fleeting. Rafe can’t look at her and just think of her as his sister’s friend. Now, when he looks at Isla, there’s an evident pull tugging in the middle of his chest, desperate to be close to her, to know her. He can’t ignore it. He doesn’t want to.

He waits patiently as she processes his request while he gets handed the soda cans. “Rafe, I—”

“Just think about it,” he finds himself saying, not quite prepared to hear a rejection, though he wouldn’t be surprised if she said no. Especially when her gaze flickers past him, presumably to where her friends sit, and he gets it. Her friends don’t like him, at all, and he doesn’t particularly care for them, either. But, fuck, he doesn’t want that to get in the way of pursuing something with Isla. “And let me know,” he adds with a shrug of a shoulder before pulling away to head back to where he’s sitting.

As he moves, he sees Isla walking from his periphery, going back to her friends. Handing Kelce one of the sodas, Rafe settles in his chair as he watches Isla distributing the snacks she carried among her friends, and he swears when her head lifts, she looks right at him for a brief moment before sitting down, her back now to him.

Even when the movie starts once the sun sets, Rafe can admit to himself that his gaze rests more on the back of Isla’s head than it does on the movie itself, sipping his cold drink to cool down the heat simmering in his blood. It’s like now that she’s walked into his thoughts, there’s no getting her out. Does he even want to?

Halfway through the movie, he sees Isla stand up, trying to bend down in hopes of not disrupting anyone’s view behind her as she breaks away from her friends. His gaze is drawn to her automatically, watching as she pulls out her phone and types something quickly and then, a second later, his phone buzzes quietly in his pocket. Rafe presses his tongue between his teeth as he pulls out his phone, trying to keep the burgeoning hope at bay, only to have to stifle a smile when he sees that she had messaged him on Instagram. Only one word: bathrooms.

Rubbing a hand down his face to hide his smile, he puts his drink down and tells the guys, “Bathroom break,” before walking off.

The grass is soft beneath his sneakers as he walks away from the crowd gathered, the sounds of the movie rumbling in his ears as he approaches the small brick building, styled like a shed, that houses the public restrooms. Rafe’s gaze wanders as he walks around the back, trying to catch sight of Isla because he doubts she’s inside, even as he glances over his shoulder to make sure her friends aren’t watching. He doesn’t particularly care, but he would much rather not make things difficult for Isla. More than they already might be.

“Hey.” The soft sound of her voice catches his attention even as screams sound from the movie, his head snapping to the right where he sees her leaning against the back wall of the building. It’s hidden from the view of the crowd, and no one would spot them unless they deliberately walked around to the back of the building. Rafe presses his tongue to the roof of his mouth as he slowly approaches her where she stands, her hands behind her as she leans against the wall. The light summer breeze makes her dark hair dance slightly, some strands crossing over her face that he resists the urge to brush back.

Beautiful. She’s absolutely beautiful, which is something Rafe knew for years, of course, but losing his breath at the sight of her is new, foreign. Not unwelcomed. There’s a natural rosiness to her cheeks, tiny freckles spread across the bridge of her nose, a few shades darker than the natural brown of her skin. And those eyes—a stunning mix of brown and green framed by long eyelashes—that watch him curiously and, fuck, maybe a little in anticipation, too.

He walks over to her, effectively blocking him from view as well, and leans against the wall with his right arm, facing her. She’s close enough that he can smell the apple scent that clings to her, having to physically stop himself from taking a deep breath so he doesn’t freak her out and end this conversation before it even starts.

So he brings forward an easy grin and raises his eyebrows as he asks, “To what do I owe this secret rendezvous?”

Isla purses her lips, but he notes the twitch on the corners, like she’s fighting back a smile. “This. . . Hypothetical dinner,” she says carefully, making his amusement grow. As well as that seed of hope. “It can’t exactly happen in public. Not when my friends can easily spot us.”

He had expected as much. Who knows what kind of shit she’d get into with the rest of the Pogues if they found out she was having dinner with him. It’s kind of fucking annoying, but when it comes to this, Rafe has a feeling she’s going to run the show. It’s her friendships she would be risking. His own friends would be shocked, for sure, and definitely might think he’s out of his mind for being with a Pogue because of all the hostile history the two groups have. But Rafe can easily ignore all of that—especially when she looks at him with those pretty eyes.

“I know,” he answers with a slight tilt of her head. “Come over, then. I’ll cook.”

“You can cook?” she asks, a light dancing in her eyes as she peers up at him. He dips his chin in a nod as she chews her bottom lip and his stomach clenches, wanting to put his own teeth there. “When?”

“Tomorrow. Tonight. Right now.” His reply is instant, borderline desperate, but he doesn’t care. Even as she gapes at him, lips curling upwards as her cheeks pinken. “Didn’t you hear Sarah before? I have the house to myself.”

A breathy laugh escapes Isla, his eyes dropping to her lips as he forces himself not to close the gap between them. He wants to kiss her, so fucking badly, but it’s not the right time. Her gaze meets his and he sees the hesitation creep in, her throat working as she starts, “Rafe—”

He already knows what she’s going to say. “It’ll be just dinner, Isla,” he assures her honestly. “You come over, we eat, we talk, and you go home.”

She eyes him skeptically for a moment, like she’s not sure that that’s all he wants. And, of course, he wants more. But Rafe also knows to go at Isla’s pace, whatever’s good for her. He would never rush her, or pressure her. Whatever the Pogues may think of him, he’s not someone who would intentionally make a woman feel uncomfortable; he has two younger sisters, and if he found out some guy made them feel as much, he’d get his knuckles bloody.

“I think Kie’s staying over John B’s tonight, too, with the others,” Isla finally says, slowly as though she’s measuring every word. “But I can get out of it. I can come tonight, if you want. If that works.”

Excitement tinged with disbelief lances through Rafe, half thinking he heard her wrong. But he plays it cool, not wanting to give her any reason to second guess, even as his surprise takes him a minute to form a proper response. Truthfully, Rafe had thought it would be more difficult to convince her; he wouldn’t push her, and wouldn't want to make her uncomfortable. But he’s surprised that she agreed somewhat easily.

Was she in the same boat as him? Did she find herself thinking about him more and more as the days went on, like he did with her? Rafe is a little desperate to know what’s going on in that head of hers, but he’s willing to be patient. To give her the time and space to let him in as much as she wants, when she wants.

There’s still some hesitation lingering in her eyes, which Rafe doesn’t blame her for, but Isla doesn’t take back her offer. So Rafe nods, the corner of his mouth curving up in a smile. “Tonight’s good. What time works best for you?”

She glances at her phone, reading the time, and Rafe catches the picture of her lockscreen. A group selfie with her friends on their little boat out on the water, the sun beaming down on them and wide grins on their faces, hair and skin glimmering and wet from swimming, no doubt. “The movie should be over by seven-thirty,” Isla says thoughtfully, eyes lifting so their gazes can meet. “Does eight-thirty work?”

He lifts his chin, trying to keep his smile from taking over his face. Calm, cool. “Works for me. I’ll see you then?”

He says it as a question, giving her a chance to back out once more even though he doesn’t want her to. Rafe knows this whole thing is new, uncharted territory for both of them. He doesn’t want to make light of it, and he wants Isla to know that. And maybe it’s the right thing to do, because he sees her eyes light, some of the earlier hesitation disappearing as a gentle smile touches her pink lips.

It loosens a knot in Rafe’s chest he didn’t even know existed as Isla nods. “Yeah, you will,” she says softly, an undercurrent of a promise they both know is a risk to make.

But the smile they share might be worth it.

*****

Isla has been to the sprawling Cameron estate plenty of times before; for parties, sleepovers, regular hangouts, pool days—all of which were to see Sarah. But tonight, as she parks her car in the driveway and kills the engine and headlights, staring at the house—mansion—ahead, it feels different. Because this time, she’s not here for Sarah. This time, she knows the only person in the house who is waiting for her is Sarah’s older and stupidly attractive brother.

Isla sits in her car for a few extra moments, gripping the steering wheel tightly, mentally preparing herself to get out of the car. Her friends are all at John B’s for the night, and when Isla had said she was going home after the movies, they all had eyed her in bewilderment. But all she had said was that she was getting a headache—which was fair, because they all know Isla has the tendency to develop headaches after going to the movies—and they had let it go. And then Isla takes a deep breath, thinking of her conversation with her mom when she had gotten home to take a quick shower to get the mild scent of summer sweat off of her.

“I need you to cover for me,” Isla had said to her after getting out of the shower, dressed in a baby blue romper as her damp hair fell around her shoulders.

“Cover for you?” her mom had asked, arching an eyebrow, waiting for the kettle to whistle so she could make herself a cup of green tea. “What’s going on, baby?”

Isla and Kie were both close with their parents, but while Kie had a special relationship with their dad, Isla had the same with their mom. Anna Carrera had always been the kind of mother who always wanted her kids to come to her with anything. While Kie and their mom got into more arguments, mostly borne from Kie’s disinterest in any Kook-related events that their parents dragged them to, Isla and their mom were more similar. Which is why she felt comfortable to go to her mom about this, and trusted her discretion.

“I have a date tonight,” Isla told her, watching her mom’s eyebrows flick up in curious excitement. “And it’s with Rafe Cameron.” Anna blinked, her surprise evident because she knows of the less than friendly relationship between Rafe and the Pogues. “I know, I know, I didn’t see it coming either. But Kie’s with the others at John B’s, and I told them I had a headache and was gonna be home for the night, but I’m, uh, going to have dinner with Rafe and I just need you to cover for me with Kie in case she asks. Which I don’t think she will, but still.”

Isla knew the irony of it all—asking her mother to cover for her with her sister, instead of the other way around. She only felt a little bit of guilt, which would be greater if Isla and Kie didn’t cover for each other with their parents a dozen more times in the past. There was already a seed of guilt that had planted itself in the pit of Isla’s stomach from that first night, running into Rafe, and she had the feeling it was only going to grow if she kept up whatever this was with Rafe. More so, now that she had agreed to a damn date with him.

She couldn’t bring herself to regret it, though.

“Honey,” Anna sighed, taking a step towards Isla. “I wish you didn’t have to be so secretive about liking a boy.”

“I don’t—” Isla stumbled, cheeks flaming. She didn’t know why she was embarrassed, but this wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have right now. She couldn’t stand there and analyze these confusing feelings for Rafe. “Mom, could you just—”

“Yes, yes,” her mom said, waving her hand. “I have you covered,” she added, using air quotes that had Isla letting out a nervous laugh. “Have fun and be safe, alright?”

Isla exhaled slowly. “Thanks, Mom.”

Now, without delaying any further, Isla gets out of the car and begins making her way up the driveway to the front door, each step closer and closer to making her heart pound louder and louder. But the more distance gets cut between her and the front door, Isla realizes her racing pulse isn’t entirely made out of anxious nerves, but of a building excitement giving birth to anticipation of what’s waiting for her inside. She runs her fingers through her hair once she gets to the door, and exhales softly.

“Here we go,” she mutters to herself, maybe still in partial disbelief as she raises a hand to ring the doorbell, resisting the urge to bounce on the heels of her sneakers.

Only a few seconds later, the door swings open, and the air stills in Isla’s lungs as her gaze lands on Rafe. And, God, she’s hopeless in trying to stop the smile that instantly tugs at her lips, her stomach doing flips as he stares at her, almost like in wonder. Like he didn’t believe she would actually show up until this moment, now that she’s standing in front of him.

“Hi,” Isla greets, offering a smile she hopes is confident. She doesn’t want to be nervous; in that moment, she tries to channel her sister’s confidence and self-assurance.

“Hey,” he returns and Isla takes the next few seconds admiring the sight of him. He also changed out of his clothes from the movies, now in khaki pants and a light blue button down, sleeves rolled to the elbows, that matches the shade of her romper. Like they had somehow planned it. His left wrist wears a watch, while the other has the familiar bracelets that makes Isla smile a little more. When her gaze lifts, her eyes meet his, and Rafe wears a charming, boyish smile as he says, “You look pretty.”

The simple compliment makes her cheeks heat up. “Thank you,” she murmurs as he opens the door wider.

“Come on in.” She steps into the house, walking past him and is immediately greeted by the familiar scent of his cologne—and him—as well as another delicious aroma wafting in the air. Before she can even ask, Rafe shuts the door and tells her, “I made shrimp scampi.”

Her eyebrows rise, stomach flipping as she glances at him. With a playful smile, she asks, “What if I’m allergic to shrimp?”

There’s no sign of panic. Instead, Rafe snorts and arches his own eyebrow in return. “I saw you enjoying the shrimp cocktails at Dad and Rose’s anniversary party a few months ago for that to be true.”

He noticed that? The warmth in her cheeks intensifies as she mumbles, “Touche,” earning a grin from him.

Chuckling, Rafe nods his head. “Come on, we’re out back.”

She follows him through the house, passing the dining room and kitchen, until they’re stepping out onto the backyard. The lights from Sarah’s party are still wrapped around the trees, glimmering colorfully, and Isla spots a table set up a good distance away from the pool, already set for dinner. There’s a fluttering sensation in her chest as they near it, lips parting in surprise that he not only cooked dinner, but took the time to set up the table outside. Above them the stars twinkled, and Isla can make out the sound of water lapping not only from the pool, but the water on the other side of the Cameron property.

Disbelief has her fiddling with her necklace as they walk to the table. He really set this up for them? The thought behind it alone, as well as the effort, made the fluttering in her chest intensify, spreading throughout the rest of her as she asks, “You made this in an hour?”

The movie had ended at seven-thirty and she agreed to come over at eight-thirty. There’s a steaming dish of shrimp scampi and a bowl of salad on the table—when did he have time to make this? Frankly, Isla is still trying to wrap her head around the fact that not only did she agree to dinner with Rafe, but that Rafe Cameron made dinner for her. It’s all so. . . Gentlemanly and chivalrous, which Isla hadn’t expected. But then again, it’s not like she actually knows Rafe well, other than the beef he and his friends get into with her own friends.

“I, uh,” Rafe chuckles and Isla finds herself being fond of the way that he looks slightly embarrassed. It’s a complete contrast to the cool and confident way he usually carries himself. “I sort of dipped early at the movies to get ready.”

God, she can’t help it—a grin breaks out across her face at the confession, her pulse racing. She briefly wonders if Sarah even knows about this thoughtful side of her brother. She’s still wrapping her head around it, but seeing is believing, she figures.

“Can I be honest?” Rafe asks when they sit down across from each other. Isla arches an eyebrow in return, a silent and curious encouragement for him to continue. “I’ve, uh, never actually cooked for someone for a date before.”

Isla is surprised at his willingness to admit that. She always got the impression that Rafe wasn’t the kind of guy who liked to show any kind of vulnerability to anyone. This side of him is refreshing to see, so different than what she has seen of Rafe in the past and interacted with.

So she rewards his bit of honesty with an honest response of her own. “I’ve never had anyone cook for me on a date before,” she tells him with a warm smile, one she isn’t sure she’s ever given Rafe before, but she likes the way his broad shoulders seem to relax. “I guess it’s a first for both of us.” In more ways than one.

The slow grin he gives her is, to put it bluntly, panty-melting as it shoots heat through her blood. She puts her effort in making sure her fingers don’t tremble as she serves herself when Rafe gestures to the dish in front of them. The gentle summer breeze helps cool down her heated skin as the delicious aroma of the pasta hits her nose, and a smile touches her lips when Rafe grabs the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc—one of the more expensive brands, which is up to Cameron standards.

“Wine?” he offers.

“Sure, thank you,” Isla murmurs.

Once the wine is opened and poured, they begin eating, and Isla has to actively stop herself from moaning in delight as the buttery taste of the pasta hits her tongue. It’s delicious, to say the least, and somehow tastes even better knowing that Rafe prepared this for her. When has a date ever cooked for her? Never, and maybe hell has frozen over for Rafe Cameron to be the first, but her heart has been in constant fluttering mode the moment he had told her he’d cook dinner tonight.

“How is it?” Rafe asks when she swallows her first bite, watching her with curious, anticipating blue eyes.

She nods in approval, licking her lips and dabbing them with a napkin. “Really freaking good,” Isla tells him honestly, smiling when she sees the satisfaction glimmer in his own gaze, the proud smile that takes over his face. Rafe seems to relax a bit after her compliment, only then reaching for his fork to begin eating. It makes her smile, that he waited for her approval before even taking a bite. “Where’d you learn to cook?” she asks as she twirls more noodles around her fork.

“My mom was a great cook,” he answers and Isla watches as a fond, nostalgic smile softens his handsome features. The sight is so gentle, it chips away a lot of her shock of even being here in the first place. “And I had the habit of following her around, so she’d enlist my help when she’d cook. Went from washing the vegetables to chopping them and learning from her.”

He shrugs at the end, like it’s no big thing, but it has Isla softening as she pictures a young Rafe, watching his mom with curious intent, his quick mind tracking her movements and actions. Isla’s not oblivious—she knows Rafe is intelligent; it’s a fact not even Sarah scoffs at. After all, Isla knows he’s also involved in the family real estate and property business, set to take over for his dad whenever Ward decides to retire.

So the guy’s set to take over the family business and can cook—and Isla isn’t supposed to be attracted to him?

“Do you cook?” Rafe asks, pulling her out of her thoughts. “I’m assuming you do, given the business your family’s in.”

Isla breathes out a laugh, nodding in agreement. “You’d be right about that.” Both of her parents love to cook, and most of the recipes at The Wreck are ones her mom and dad created, which are widely loved across the Outer Banks. Isla’s family restaurant is a hot tourist spot during the summer, and otherwise a local love as well. “My mom and dad made sure Kie and I knew our way around the kitchen.”

He reaches for his glass of wine. “Do you have something you like making the most?”

She leans back in her chair, humming thoughtfully, gaze at the starry night sky as she does. Dinner under the stars with Rafe—who would’ve thought? Her lips quirk up before she answers, “Gumbo.”

Rafe’s eyebrows shoot up. “Gumbo?” he repeats, grinning.

“Gumbo,” Isla confirms with a nod. “Dad’s side is from New Orleans, and they’ve got an old family recipe for the best gumbo I’ve ever had—though, I may be biased,” she adds with a laugh. “But as soon as Kie and I could cook on our own, he showed us how to make it, and it’s one of my favorite things to cook.” Her smile turns sly, leaning forward, and her heart thumps when Rafe mirrors the movement, gaze locked on hers as though she’s about to share some grand secret. “Between me and you, my gumbo’s better than Kie’s.”

A breathy chuckle escapes Rafe and Isla dangerously finds herself adoring the way the light dances in his blue eyes. “Hope I can try it someday.”

It’s a statement casually spoken, but there’s nothing casual about the butterflies in Isla’s stomach. Her smile turns a little shy, her cheeks a little warm, as she lifts her fork and tells him, “If you’re lucky,” before taking another bite of the delicious food.

The grin that breaks out across his face is exciting, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek in impressed acceptance. Of course, he doesn’t let her get away with it and asks, “Be honest, did you agree to having this dinner tonight so you didn’t lose your nerve if we did it later on?”

Isla damn near chokes on her sip of wine at his blunt question, though he asks it with an amused undercurrent in that smooth voice of his. The warmth in her cheek intensifies as she lowers the glass, forcing her surprised gaze to meet his smug, expectant one. The blue and silver lights of the lapping pool water bathe him in an almost ethereal light, which doesn’t help Isla’s attraction to him as she clears her throat in a useless attempt to stall answering his question.

Despite her hammering heart, Isla somehow manages to keep her voice even as she counters, “Maybe I just wanted to see how serious you were about going on a date.”

Rafe tilts his head, arching his eyebrow with his gaze never straying from her. Every time he seems to look at her, he looks as if she has his undivided attention. Those eyes, bluer than a summer afternoon sky, seem to really see her, and Isla is certain no one has ever looked at her the way Rafe does. Definitely none of her exes. “And what’s the verdict?” he asks.

She wants to say that he seems pretty serious, given that he left the movies early to come home and make their dinner himself. It’s already more effort than any of her exes have gone through, which is almost sad to say, but it’s so appreciated. So she keeps her eyes locked with his and says, “Night’s still young.”

The flash of anticipation in his eyes only thrills her more.

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starryhyuck · 4 months ago

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forbidden fruit. (m) — PATREON EXCLUSIVE

pairing: bestfriendsdad!johnny x afab!reader

words: 6.7k+

summary: you’re old enough now to know who you really want. even if that person is your best friend’s father.

genre: smut

warnings: age gap, public sex, car sex, daddy kink, we go raw with daddy!johnny in this house, creampie, degradation, fingering, good ol’ cunnilingus, pregnancy

this fic is exclusive to the $5 tier on my patreon, which you can access here! below is a tumblr preview

“Hey, do you mind getting some of that on my back?”

You quickly turn over, resting your chin on your hands as you wait for Johnny. You hear him shuffling before his knees sink on both sides of your hips, hovering over your form and squeezing sunscreen onto his palm.

“You know I’m as old as your father, right? And divorced too. You’re not making very wise choices for a girl your age.”

His hands roughly squeeze over your exposed shoulders and you chew on your lower lip, hoping the strings of your bikini happen to malfunction at the perfect time.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Suh,” you hum. “I’m just trying to enjoy the sun on this beautiful day. You wouldn’t want me to burn out here, would you?”

He chuckles, and his deep voice sends shivers straight to your core. His fingers press into your lower back and you hold back a moan from how good he feels. He toys with the straps of your bikini, and you both know all he would have to do is tug at the fabric for it to fall apart in his hands.

You wonder if Johnny knows exactly how many women lust for him on an ongoing basis. Every single housewife on the block brings him cookies on the regular, as if they’re running bakery shops inside their homes. You used to giggle with a group of your friends in high school about Soojin’s hot dad, gawking at him when he came to pick up your best friend in a sleeveless top and sunglasses. You thought his wife was an idiot to cheat on him because how could she top the perfection that was her husband?

“Pretty small bikini to wear in front of an old man,” he comments, playing with the thin strings of your bottom. “What exactly are you trying to get out of this?”

You turn your head to smile up at him. His body blocks the sun but casts a warm halo around his face, highlighting the smirk painted on his lips.

“A fun day in the sun, that’s all, Mr. Suh,” you say with a devious quirk of your lips. “Why? What were you thinking of doing?”

He gently squeezes your ass, watching your expression carefully. The smile doesn’t wipe off your face, even as his hand drifts in between your thighs. Two fingers gently nudge at your clothed core as you narrow your eyes at him.

“Oh, so that’s what you had in mind? Dirty old man,” you huff.

“You don’t even know the half of it,” he murmurs while shaking his head. “If you could only see what I’m thinking of doing to you right now, you’d run far from here and never come back.”

You laugh as a gush of wetness drips down your cunt. “I’m a big girl now, Mr. Suh. I don’t back down from a challenge.”

“Big girls don’t play with fire like you do.”

want to read the rest? access the $5 tier on my patreon here!

#nct smut #nct x reader #johnny smut #johnny

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drewharrisonwriter · 6 months ago

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A Better Man

Status: One Shot, Complete

Summary: Dieter goes back to a place he knows so well just to get a glimpse of a life he could have had.

Word Count: 2k words

Notes: IDK, I'm way into Dieter again these days, and thought of writing this fic that's full of yearning lol

P.S. My laptop, which served me well for 5 years, just gave out. With grad school, the recent loss of my stepdad, and ongoing medical bills, finances are tight. I’m currently managing writing commissions and my dissertation from my phone, which is okay but really challenging. If you can help with a donation or by commissioning some of my writing, it would mean the world to me. Just send me a message 💜 Thank you from the bottom of my heart for any support you can offer. 💜🙏🏻

I pull up to the house slowly, like I’m sneaking up on it. The engine hums under my grip, vibrating through the steering wheel, and I kill it with a sharp twist of the key. The quiet settles in around me, and I just sit there, staring at the place I used to know so well.

It’s funny. I don’t even know why I’m here. I’m not the sentimental type—at least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself for years—but somehow, I always end up right back here. Your house. The one you made a home, way back when everything felt so damn simple.

It’s been a while. The shutters are a different color now, a soft blue. You used to complain about how you never had time to take care of the garden, but it looks… alive now. Somebody’s been looking after it, after you. It’s like the house moved on, but me? I’m still stuck.

I lean back in the seat, staring through the windshield. I remember this place, and I remember you—us. Those days when I’d crash on your couch, no questions asked. The nights we’d laugh too loud, talk too much, and I’d forget, just for a second, about the chaos waiting outside your door. This used to be the one place that felt like it could be something real.

I close my eyes, and suddenly I’m back there, in those moments that play like an old movie I can’t turn off.

–

“You know, I could get used to this,” I said, my shoulder brushing against yours as we sat on the steps of your porch. The air was thick with the scent of your jasmine plant—always too sweet, but you loved it, so I never complained. I looked over at you, trying to hide my nerves behind a grin. “Just you, me, and this crappy little neighborhood.”

You laughed, and God, that laugh—it’s like a shot of adrenaline, better than any drug I’ve ever touched. “You say that now, but you’ll get bored. You always do.”

I wanted to argue, but I just shrugged, picking at the loose thread on my jeans. “Not with you,” I said softly. “You’re the only thing I never get tired of.”

You gave me this look—like you knew something I didn’t. “We’re not like that, Dieter. We’re... something else.”

I tried to smile, but it felt wrong. “Yeah, sure. Something else.” But I wasn’t so sure anymore. Not when everything was changing so fast. I could feel it slipping away, and I didn’t know how to hold on.

–

I showed up at your door, way past midnight. I was drunk, pissed off, and lost, but you still opened up, just like you always did. No questions, no judgment—just you in your pajamas, hair a mess, eyes sleepy but warm.

“Dieter, it’s late,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “What’s going on?”

“I just... I needed to be here,” I said, brushing past you into the living room like I belonged there. And for a while, I think I did. I slumped onto the couch, burying my face in my hands. “Everything’s fucked. I fucked up.”

You sat down next to me, close but not too close. You always knew how to give me just enough space to breathe. “You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

I looked at you, and for a second, I forgot about the headlines, the shitty reviews, the people tearing me apart for the mess I’d made of my own career. “You ever think... maybe we should’ve done this differently?”

You raised an eyebrow, half amused, half sad. “Done what differently?”

I shrugged, feeling stupid for even bringing it up. “Us. This. Everything.”

You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “We are what we are, Dieter…”

I wanted to say something, anything, but the words got stuck somewhere between my head and my heart. So, I did what I always do—I let the moment pass, hoping it wouldn’t be the last.

–

“I’m done, Dieter. I can’t do this anymore.”

The words hung in the air, and I could feel my chest tighten. You stood there, calm but determined, like you’d been preparing for this moment for a long time. I tried to read your face, but it was like staring at a wall—no cracks, no second thoughts.

“What do you mean, you’re done?” I shot back, my voice sharper than I intended. “We’ve been together for years! We fight, we figure it out. That’s what we do.”

You exhaled, shaking your head slowly. “We’re not together, Dieter. Not really. Not in the way that matters.” You paused, searching for the right words, and I hated how composed you were while I felt like everything was falling apart. “I want a real relationship, Dieter. I want to feel like I’m more than just the person you run to when your life is spiraling. I want something that’s going somewhere.”

I stared at you, thrown by how final you sounded. “We are going somewhere. It’s just… complicated. But we can figure it out.”

“Complicated?” You scoffed, eyes narrowing. “Dieter, I’ve been with you through your worst. Through the scandals, the press, and the stretch of weeks you didn’t even call me because you were too drunk or too high to even remember who you were with. And I stood by you, I waited for you… waiting for things to get better, but they never did. And you know why? Because you never wanted them to.”

“That’s not true,” I argued, frustration bubbling over. “I love you, you know I do.”

“But what is that worth?” you said, your voice finally breaking, the tears threatening to spill but held back by sheer force of will. “Love isn’t enough when I’m stuck living half a life with someone who can’t even be bothered to call me just because... You can’t even take me out to a decent meal. The best I get is my couch, or sitting in a Five Guys parking lot, eating drive-thru in your car with the windows tinted so dark that no one sees us. That’s not a relationship, Dieter. It’s barely even anything.”

I tried to speak, but every excuse felt thin and worn out. You were tired of the same old lines, the same old promises that things would change. And deep down, I knew I couldn’t give you what you wanted, not because I didn’t want to, but because I didn’t know how.

“It’s not that easy,” I said, frustration lacing my voice. “I can’t just—”

“That’s the point!” you interrupted, your voice rising as you lost that calm veneer. “I don’t want it to be this way. And I can’t ask you to change your life for me, I won't even want to do that… to put me in your world when I know that no one would believe it if I even tried to scream it out loud that you love me. Who would believe some girl like me? Living this mundane life, far away from the adventures you’re off having when you’re not here, when you’re not hiding away with me.”

You softened for a moment, a flicker of the love we once had shining through the hurt. “I love you too, Dieter. But love isn’t enough. Not when I can’t even call you my boyfriend, not when I’m just the girl you go to hide away when it’s convenient.”

You looked at me, your eyes filled with a mix of sadness and resolve. “I need more than this. I need more than stolen moments and secret meetups. I need someone who isn’t afraid to be with me, who wants to be with me. And you’re not that person, Dieter. You never have been.”

The finality of your words hung in the air between us, heavy and suffocating. I wanted to fight, to tell you that I could change, that we could make it work, but deep down, I knew you were right. I’d always been too afraid to give you what you deserved, and now I was paying the price.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, the words feeling hollow and inadequate. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You nodded, tears spilling over despite your best efforts to hold them back. “So am I,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep pretending that this is enough when it’s not.”

You turned to open the door, and I watched you go, my heart breaking as the door closed behind you. You didn’t even stop to hesitate or even look back… I wanted to run after you, to pull you back and promise that I’d be better, that I’d be the man you needed. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. And that was the moment I lost you—for good this time.

–

I don’t even know why I’m here, but I can’t seem to stay away. I park a little down the street, close enough to see but far enough to not be seen, and I watch through the large windows of your house. It’s early evening, the lights are on, and I can see you moving around the kitchen, your silhouette framed against the glow.

You’re different now. Softer. Happier. And as my eyes drift lower, I see the subtle curve of your stomach, round and unmistakable. You’re pregnant. Again.

It hits me like a punch, the memory of the first time I saw you like this. I remember the way your body changed, how your skin seemed to glow, how you moved with this new grace that had me staring at you like I’d never seen anything more beautiful. You were carrying someone else’s child, but all I could think about was how much I wanted you, how much I wanted to be the one to fill you up, to make you mine in every way possible.

You shift, one hand resting on your growing belly, and I feel it all over again—the longing, the jealousy, the regret. I’d lie awake at night, thinking about you, about what it would feel like to be the one who got to hold you when you were swollen with life, about the softness of your body pressed up against mine. And now, it’s like I’m being forced to watch the life I could have had unfold right in front of me.

You laugh at something, one hand absentmindedly smoothing down your shirt, and there’s this guy—your husband, I guess—walking in from another room. He leans in, kisses you on the cheek, and it’s so damn domestic that it makes me sick. I don’t even know him, but I hate him. I hate how he gets to have you in ways I never could.

I watch as he rests his hand on your stomach, his thumb rubbing gentle circles that make you smile. It’s intimate, tender, and I can’t tear my eyes away. You look so content, so fucking perfect, and all I can think is that I’m the idiot who let this slip through my fingers.

My grip on the steering wheel tightens, knuckles white as I fight the urge to storm up to that door and tell you everything I’ve been too scared to say. I want to tell you that you’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, that I miss you in ways I can’t even describe. I want to tell you that I wish it was me. That I wish I’d been enough.

But it’s too late. It’s always been too late.

I start the engine, but I don’t drive away right away. I just sit there, staring at the life that’s no longer mine, and I feel this hollow ache in my chest that I can’t ever seem to fill. I think about you, about the way you looked at me that night when you said you loved me but that it wasn’t enough. And maybe it never was.

As I pull away, I catch one last glimpse of you through the window, your hand resting on top of your oldest child's head while you spoke to your husband, and I feel like I’m leaving something behind all over again. Maybe one day, I’ll stop coming back here. Maybe one day, I’ll let go of this ghost that’s been haunting me.

But for now, all I can do is drive. Away from you. Away from the life I’ll never have. And I wonder, for the hundredth time, what might have been if I’d just been a better man.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedropascal #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal fan fiction #pedro pascal fan fic #pedrohub #dieter bravo imagine #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo #dieter bravo fan fic #dieter bravo x #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x oc #dieter bravo x y/n

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milkpup · 1 year ago

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｡⋆ʚ♡ like father, like son

›› chapter 5 ›› nsfw 18+ ongoing multi-chapter fic!

previous chapter ♡ next chapter

ʚ ao3 ɞ / ʚ kofi ɞ / ʚ fic masterlist ɞ

›› toji fushiguro x reader ›› megumi fushiguro x reader ›› toji x reader x megumi (mfm) ›› 18+ f!reader ›› started: 12/6/23 : updated: 1/29/24 : status: ongoing

‹𝟹 summary: You and Megumi are best friends. You've known eachother for almost your whole life. His home has become your second home. As time passes and life happens, Megumi slowly develops feelings for you, even though he's unaware of it. To complicate things further, you're now living with him and his father, who has also taken a liking to you.

‹𝟹 fandom: jjk, jujutsu kaisen

‹𝟹 genres / warnings: au - no powers, college au, power imbalance, pseudo-incest (they both want y/n, nothing w/ eachother), dubious consent

‹𝟹 tags: good cop bad cop, fluff, smut, angst, toji has a big dick, dilf toji, toji is his own warning, toji tries to be a good parent, toji is an asshole, toji is trying okay?, daddy dom toji, daddy kink, porn with feelings, porn with plot, friends to lovers, spit / spitting, spit kink, spit as lube, breeding, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, double vaginal pen, double pen, anal, making out, making love, love triangles, praise kink, degradation, light masochism, light sadism, emotional sex, cuckolding, jealousy, jealousy kink, smoking, smoking kink, emotional manipulation, manipulation, polyamory?, father and son share you, protective megumi fushiguro, megumi needs a hug, megumi has a big dick, AGED UP CHARACTERS, dead dove: do not eat, finger sucking, large cock, cum swallowing, blow jobs, first time blow jobs, under desk blow jobs, fingerfucking, face sitting, face riding, 69, mutual masturbation, threesome mfm, lots of smut, loss of virginity

‹𝟹 notes: hi, sorry this took so long to update! i've had a lot going on lately, but i finally felt good enough to finish this chap! i tried to go for soft megumi but then eventually i couldn't help myself. sowwy x_x (im not sorry :3!) don't try so hard to imagine the positions, just go with it PLSSSS T_T LOL. for tumblr: i'm gonna start adding a section for tags. if y'all wanna be tagged in future updates on this fic or any of my stuff lmk!

<;33

!! - again, PLEASE READ TAGS BEFORE CONTINUING - !!

! - ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ - !

Chapter 5: Pink Carnations

“It’s already almost 5 in the afternoon… and there’s a storm forecasted? Why are they not home yet?” Megumi questioned as he anxiously paced back and forth in the living room. He was worried, not really about the guy who he’s supposed to call ‘father’, but about you. He would never admit it, but he counts the hours, minutes, seconds, moments even when you’re not together. He misses you but feels like he’s not allowed to miss your presence.

Yet… he does. He always does. And that’s why when he sees you come bursting through the front door, clothes soaked but laughing, he’s confused. He knows you hate getting your clothes wet, much less completely soaked through. So why are you in such a good mood? He doesn’t mind, and loves hearing your sweet laugh, but he’s confused, nonetheless. That is, until he sees Toji’s massive frame follow right behind you.

Megumi’s cheeks flare with jealousy, his face flush a crimson red. He stares right at you, loudly asking where you’ve been. He isn’t trying to be mean, but he is mad. “What took you so long in a storm like this? You know it’s dangerous to drive with streets flooded so badly like this.” He finishes, looking straight at Toji, staring daggers into him for even thinking of putting you in a dangerous situation.

“I’m a good driver. You don’t need to worry. And we took a while because we were busy.” Toji smirks slightly at the end of his sentence, moving across the foyer and setting his keys on the table.

You don’t want to feel the uncomfortable sensation of soaked clothes for any longer, so you silently slip out of the room and make your way towards the bathroom.

Toji being Toji, he’s watching every part of you until your silhouette disappears into the dimly lit hallway. He’s watching you like a predator stalks his prey. Megumi’s brows furrow as he feels anger and jealousy boiling beneath his skin. He starts walking up to his father, confronting him, “Why are you looking at her like that, and why are you spending so much time with her in general, you old bastard?” Megumi is practically in Toji’s face, eyes fierce and cheeks flared with anger.

Toji only smirks as he’s leaned against the wall, looking down at Megumi. “I mean, why wouldn’t I? She’s fucking hot, and so obedient. I would be a fool to not want her for myself.” His response almost sends Megumi into a blind rage. Megumi understands Toji most likely takes what he wants from you, sometimes aggressively, and he wants to protect you from that.

“You’re disgusting.” Megumi retorts, words laced with venom. “You make me sick.”

“You can’t deny it though. I’m right. And you know I’m right.” Toji responds before pushing off the wall and away from Megumi towards his own bathroom. Megumi rolls his eyes as Toji walks away, but somewhere deep down inside him- that he’s blind to and wouldn’t even admit to- agrees with Toji. And that’s what pisses him off the most. He feels as if he’s been thrown into a competition to “win” you, one that he is already losing at. Megumi is disgusted with himself at the idea of you being described in terms of a prize, but he also can’t resolve the fact that he wants you. It’s wrong and unfair how someone like Toji could get to you first; Toji doesn’t know you like I do. He doesn’t value you like I do. And thus, Megumi resolves to make you happy in a way no one else can.

A few days pass, and nothing really happens between anyone except sneaking glances and private thoughts.

Eventually, Megumi can’t take it anymore. He chooses a night where Toji is out working overnight “hustling’ or whatever the fuck he called it. He ordered your favorite food and went to pick it up, hoping you’d spend some time with him. Even a little bit. On the way home, he picked up a small bouquet of pink carnations- flowers that mean missing someone.

You get back home from your afternoon class shortly before Megumi pulls up in the driveway. You are just barely sitting on the couch before Megumi opens the door and enters, the sight of flowers and bags of food warming your heart. He makes his way towards the table, setting down the food, flowers still in hand, as you hastily get up and hug him.

“It smells amazing, Megs.” You say, holding him tightly. He thinks you’re talking about the food, but you’re most certainly talking about the intoxicating scent of him and his cologne. He smelled like what rainwater personified would smell like, comforting and refreshing.

“It’s gonna get cold, ___. And these are for you.” He finishes as he sheepishly hands you the flowers. You sit at the table, placing the flowers aside as Megumi looks for plates and silverware for you both.

“Thank you, Gumi.” You gently say as you’re taking containers out of bags and unpacking them. “It smells so good!! I can’t believe you remembered what kind of pasta I like.”

Megumi returns to the table, placing silverware and plates down. “You’re welcome. Of course I’d remember. How could I forget?” He’s sure he could see a faint blush creep on your cheeks, but you’re ultimately distracted by your craving for noodles. He chuckles at how you’re practically inhaling the food.

You both talk for a while about how classes have been, what stuff you’ve been watching, just mundane stuff that still shows how deeply interested he is. You know he remembers every detail, no matter how boring it may seem. He never forgets.

After finishing the wonderful food and cleaning up together, you’re both relaxing on the couch looking for something to watch together. Usually, you gravitate toward thriller or horror movies, but Megumi picks out some almost cringey – but still cute – romance anime about two people who meet at a convention for a game and fall for each other. It’s not your first choice, but it’s still cute.

Your legs are resting on Megumi’s lap, not moving as you both watch. Megumi is slow, almost cautious when he places a hand on your leg, just rubbing you. He wants to make sure any touch in general is fine as he takes his time, slowly moving up your legs and eventually reaching your thighs. You’re acutely aware of his agonizingly slow touch, but the wait almost makes it better. He’s not even watching whatever he put on, and you’re too caught in the sensations of his soft hands rubbing your inner thighs to even begin to pay attention to the show.

Megumi’s hands continue its ascent up your inner thighs, going painfully slow. He’s looking for any and all reactions he can get out of you, and the way your breath hitches as he gets closer – it drives him insane. The way you try to hide your blush across your cheeks with your arms, trying to look at anything else to save you some embarrassment…. He loves it.

His hand moves to the waistband of your shorts, tugging at them to show he wants to take them off. He hooks his fingers around the waistband and gently pulls them completely off before tossing them to the floor. Megumi’s eyes instantly lock on to your panties. “Fuck, ___... do you always get that wet?” He’s teasing you but also shocked, the underwear was soaked from just a little teasing. You must have really wanted him.

His fingers play with you, rubbing the outside of your underwear as he draws sweet moans from your mouth. He absolutely loves the taking his time, hearing every soft moan you squeak out every time he moves his finger. He pulls your panties to the side, not even bothering to take them off as his long, slender finger slips past your folds. Just as quickly as it appeared, he pulled his finger back to his mouth, tasting a bit of your slick. “You taste so good, baby. Oh my god.” He purrs as he brings another finger back to your cunt, this time pushing into you.

“Fuck, Gumi…”

He fucks you with a single finger as he expertly rearranges you on the couch, one leg hanging off with him in between. He slips another finger inside your tight hole as he brings his mouth to your cunt, flicking his tongue around your clit. The whimpers and pants you make only serve to make Megumi feel like a man starved. Eventually he slips his fingers out, much to your annoyance, and replaces it with his tongue. He’s eating you like a man having his last meal. He wastes no time in tasting every part he can reaching, fucking your cunt with his tongue. His hand creeps back up to your clit, thumb gently circling it as he continues eating you out.

He comes back up for air and inserts his fingers again, fucking you in a rhythm matching his thumb on your clit. You can feel yourself approaching that edge, the knot in your stomach tightening as Megumi stretches your cunt with just his fingers. He adds another finger, stuffing you full of his fingers as his thumb continues its assault on your clit. “You’re such a good girl for me, huh? Did you miss me, baby?”

Your eyes widen as he praises you, feeling yourself reach your limit and cum over his fingers. You make quite the mess over his arms and the couch. “I guess that’s a yes, isn’t it princess?”

He pulls his fingers out of you and reaches for the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down. There’s a noticeable small wet spot on his boxers, he was definitely hard and leaking at just teasing you. As much as he loves your mouth, he absolutely wants your already fucked out hole.

He picks you up and turns you over so you’re on your knees, hands on the back of the couch. Megumi aligns himself behind you, gently pushing his throbbing cock into your soaked hole. Your panties are still pushed to the side, creating a lewd sight Megumi hadn’t even anticipated as he watched your cunt swallow his cock.

Your upper body was pushed against the side of the couch, with your knees spread apart and ass in the air. Megumi bottomed out his cock inside your tight hole, pushing against you fully. “You’re such a good girl. Holy fuck.” Megumi wasted no time in picking up speed, developing a comfortable pace. You moan in tandem with his thrusts, turning him on even more. He wants to be gentle with you, but you were taking his dick like a bitch in heat, and he couldn’t be more thrilled about it.

He spanks your ass as he slams his thick cock into you, and you tighten around him in response. He doesn’t realize it now, but soon will understand how masochistic you really are. He slaps your ass, creating red marks all over it to mark his presence. “You’re a dirty girl, aren’t you? You like being fucked like a whore?” He asks as he thrusts into you, hitting your g-spot. “Answer me, princess. Are you a disgusting whore?”

He gives you almost no time to respond as his hand snakes up your back, reaching your head and grabbing fistfuls of hair to pull you back with. “Yes sir, I am” You barely manage to squeak out as you feel yourself being fucked silly, close to cumming again.

“You’re what? Answer me clearly, darling.” He coos as he tugs at your hair, pulling you back against him.

“I’m a dirty whore-ah” You yelp out as he pulls on your hair. You can feel the warmth of his body on your back, as you feel another hand make its way around your neck.

“Good girl.” Megumi purrs out. He is picking up the pace now, as his grip around your neck gently tightens. He’s thrusting into you with ferocity he didn’t know existed, abusing your tight cunt.

You feel yourself getting dizzy while Megumi keeps drilling into your cunt. He releases his grip on your throat, allowing you to gasp for air as he pushes you down against the couch. His hands grip you at your waist, giving him a better holding on you to fuck you harder. He groans as he feels himself getting close.

His cock slams into your g-spot again, as he nears his edge. “I’m close, baby. Be a good girl and come with me, yeah?” You can feel his cock starting to twitch inside your cunt as he continues his relentless assault on your sensitive spot, feeling that knot snap in your belly as you tighten around his cock. The moment you cum, it sends Megumi over the edge, and you feel his warm cum filling your womb. He slips his cock out as he pulls your panties back over your cunt. “Keep this on for a while, sweetheart.” He says as you start to roll over. He leans down and kisses your forehead, while caressing your cheek.

“That was amazing, ____. You were amazing.” He praises as he sits on the couch, pulling you into an embrace as you sit on his lap. Your head rests in the crook of his neck and you can smell that familiar, fresh scent. It smells like home.

“Thank you, Gumi.”

‹𝟹 notes: i don't think there are going to be many more chaps for this fic soon. maybe 2 more at most idk. i dont rly know what i wanna do going forward, so i gotta keep it cookin in my brain for a lil more i guess lol. if y'all have suggestions i am ALWAYYYYYYS open for them! getting comments on my fic literally gives me so much serotonin u dont even understand lol

previous chapter ♡ next chapter

‹𝟹 notifs: @vvxxccaa @arylaa @starshipxoxo @rzcnlb

ʚ join my notifs ɞ

(･ω･)つ divider creds to @/cafekitsune and @/eloquentreverie

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racerchix21 · 2 months ago

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Tagged by: @jamieroyjamieroy & @nine-one-wanton ( @rdng1230 because boo needs to see this too)

Rules: Either: choose one of your published fics (or a WIP if you'd prefer), create a moodboard for it and share it along with a snippet. Or: Create a moodboard for your fave episode of the show, fave character, or a fic someone else has written that you love, and share it with some sentences about why it's a fave! (And tag some people!)

Easily my most popular fic is Tequila Makes Tommy’s Clothes Fall Off. It also happens to be the kickoff to my ongoing Tequilaverse series

Summary: The more tequila Tommy drinks the more clothes he loses. Buck learns quickly that Sal wasn’t joking when he said Tommy shouldn’t drink tequila in public

“Hey, babe. Whatcha drinking there,” Buck asks sliding into the seat next to his boyfriend gesturing at his glass.

“I dunno some tequila thing Atti made me,” Tommy mumbles lolling his head over to look at his Evan. His Evan who was sitting next to him in a tight fitting shirt and holy shit is it getting hot in here?

‘It is,’ he thinks as he starts trying to slide his flannel off his shoulders. Dammit it’s stuck on his arms and now his boyfriends laughing at him. Why did I have to put on the tight black and silver one on after his shift again?

“Help,” Tommy whines staring at Evan who’s still cackling.

“Baby, you can’t take your clothes off in public,” Buck coos easing his shirt back up.

“But I’m tooo hot,” Tommy continues whining, “I’m gonna meeeellllttt and then what would you do, Evan?”

“Baby you aren’t gonna melt. But if you did I’d figure out how to get you back home and taken care of,” Evan reassures taking Tommy’s hand running his thumb along his boyfriends knuckles. “Now I’m gonna go get you some water so sit tight for me and for the love of god keep your clothes on.”

“But you like it when my clothes fall off,” Tommy so helpfully points out leering at him. It’s not really leering when the poor guy looks like he’s 5 seconds from face planting in his plate of wings and his eyes are squinted.

Tagging: @bidisasterevankinard @thesamoanqueen @thecarrott @bangpop91 @herrmannhalsteadproduction @sunnywithachanceofbi

#evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #sal deluca #The more tequila Tommy drinks the clingier he gets and the more he struggles to keep his clothes on

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kamari333 · 29 days ago

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A 2025 Recap of Kam's Fanfics

This took me all day to put together, for some reason XD But now I've got it and I can share it!

I hope if you read through all this, and click into a fic, you find something you like! Let me know with a comment (or two) if you do!

The very first fic I every posted on AO3 was "Resonance".

I had never actually played Undertale before, but I had watched someone else play it. I stumbled into the UTMV on complete accident, and was greatly inspired by the fanon at the time (early 2017). I decided to just.... go for it. Try writing a story where all the AUs I liked and thought were cool got to come together. I got to experiment with characterization, motivations (and the logic behind them), prose, dialogue, and of course narrative. From May 3rd 2017 (i only posted on May 5th because that's when my account activation was approved -- this was back when you needed an invitation and there was a waiting list) to June 30th, 2018, I wrote this story with no plan and (if i remember correctly) no betas.

"Resonance" is an action-adventure story. It's initial premise is to compare and contrast various AUs by pulling them all together in one place. If you've ever seen "Into the Spiderverse", it is a lot like that, but with Sans Undertale, and written before "Into the Spiderverse" was even a thing. It takes the '6 Skeletons' trope that was pioneered in the xReader subgenre of UTMV and puts it in the context of Fontcest and Sanscest (as well as other ships like Soriel, Papyrus/Chara, Frans, and Papdyne). It gives some passing exploration to heavy narrative tropes like incest, self-harm, major character death, rape, torture, the yandere, drug and alcohol abuse, and sacrifice for the greater good, making it a Dead Dove if I've ever written one.

"Resonance"'s greatest strength, I think, is its character depth. I think I put a lot of good work into fleshing out the 6 main characters throughout the story, justifying the choices I made for their deviance from canon and their purpose in the narrative. It's other strength is its emotional impact: I think, for a first try, I did fairly well with the big emotional setups.

Where "Resonance" falls a little weak, admittedly, is its narrative drive. This is the most obvious in the ending, which drags on a bit without really giving a solid conclusion. While the story serves the purpose I intended for it, the open ending lacks a concrete satisfaction that i cannot articulate. Even so, it is an ending that leaves no room for doubt about what the status quo going forward will be, and at the time of writing it, that was enough for me.

I consider "Resonance" to be my Magnum Opus, proof that I can finish what I start.

💙❤️💜💛🩵🧡

The next big work (skipping over a few smaller things) is my "Ebott is a Multiverse" series.

"Ebott is a Multiverse", or "EMV" is a series of fics which lend focus to various ships, all taking place in the same continuity (and tristate area).

The first installment in EMV is "The Last Laugh".

"The Last Laugh" is a 5 chapter story detailing key events for its focal relationship that take place over 9 months. From February to November of the 4th year since Monsters came to the Surface, we follow a Classic Sans and an Underswap Sans as they figure out how much they're in love.

This first fic was originally intended to be a sort of 'revenge', inspired by both a fic and a prompt left by another rather talented writer in the Fandom (if you're still around, hi again CrushingOnRazz!) I worked hard to build up to the climax of the fic, so that everything would fall into place for the most emotional impact. I think the ending ended up being one of the most impactful of any ending I've ever written.

That being said, I ended up feeling like it still needed more to the story, a continuation as it were, so I planned out the 'skeleton' and rough path for the direct sequel "Happily Ever Laughter".

"Happily Ever Laughter" is still ongoing, however, because before I could even start it properly, I had already been sucked into another fic in EMV.

The true monster of EMV is "Burlesque". For certain reasons, "Burlesque" has both a "Censored" and an "Uncensored" version. The Censored version has all onscreen erotica removed, with fade-to-black cuts and some references changed. At the current chapter count of 57 (still unfinished), the wordcount difference between Censored:Uncensored is 224,949:254,502 words (so ~30k).

"Burlesque" is a another ship fic, this time following the relationship events of an Underfell Sans, Dancetale Sans, and Underlust Sans, all navigating their polyamory, personal issues, trauma, and the subtle pressures of late stage capitalism in fantasy U.S.A.. Together, they overcome their self deprecation, the price of rent, invasive honey badgers, sexual harassment, and the strength of their own horny, all so they can say "I love you." The story begins in February of the 4th year of Monsters coming to the Surface, and extends into December as of Chapter 57 (a work in progress).

EMV also features two other ships as focus ships (with at least two more planned). One of those ships is Outertale Papyrus/Underfell Papyrus/Underpatch Sans, which has enough content in "The EMV Anthology" that I am already planning to transplant it into its own sidefic. The other ship is Dancetale Papyrus/Fellswap Sans, which has comparatively less screentime but is no less delightful for it.

Having had so much fun writing erotica, I ended up participating in Kinktober 2017 in October 2017. This was the beginning of an annual holiday (of sorts) for me, as I have participated in Kinktober every year since (2017-2024).

My complete Kinktober Archive is currently in a series. In it, I get to explore different relationship dynamics, ships, kinks, and possible story elements. I alpha-test a lot of stuff that sometimes gets refined and filtered into more serious fics. Included in (but certainly not limited to) my experiments are: Doggo/Burgerpants, Vegetoid/Reader, RottenCherryBerry (which has become a Kinktober tradition), Mafiafell/Outertale Sanscest, the closest thing to Bad Sans Poly I will ever tag, and Stretch/Nightmare (which will be mentioned again later). The series currently has over 500,000 words of kinkplay in it, with a Table of Contents at the beginning of every fic so you can find the exact tags for every chapter quickly.

I also began an xReader in November of 2017. "Welcome To The Underground" started as an experiment to see if I could write 50,000 words in a month (in an event known as NaNoWriMo). I ended up meeting the 50k goal by the end of the month, but the story was still not completed to my satisfaction. I would continue to chip at this fic until 2020, when I finished it at just over 102,000 words.

"Welcome To The Underground" is an Isekai xReader Songfic where you, the Reader character, are a young adult (in your 20s) who is dropped into Undertale's Underground. In it, you resign yourself to the fate of every other fallen human who isn't Frisk (re: to die), and only make the effort necessary to make your remaining time as worthwhile and comfortable as possible. Throughout the story, you make friends, sing songs, get hurt, get back up again, and discover that you can do things you didn't think you could do, even if it sucks to do them.

I think this story was something I needed, a sort of symbolic rite of passage into adulthood for me (since at the time of writing, I was strugging with my identity as an adult, and lacked the confidence I needed to take control of many aspects of my life that I should have already). It certainly wasn't a solution to all my problems, but I think writing this story was the start of some kind of personal growth which I have worked hard to cultivate since. Whether it has any similar meaning to my readers, I don't think I'll ever know, but hopefully a little bit of that 'just-keep-going' vibe gets rubbed off on you guys if you come on this journey with me.

One of my favorite parts of writing this story was picking the songs. About halfway through I also started writing Parody lyrics to some of them, adjusting words here and there to fit better with what the Reader character needed. The most satisfying of all parodies, however, was the true, complete parody I wrote of a Weird Al song. I am still very proud of "Sans Pick Up Your Fucking Sock" (the song).

I became a big fan of Nilchance's "ain't this the life" series, which is about the relationship between a classic Sans and the incestuous Underfell skelebros. It's a fantastic read if you're a fan of Kustard and Kedgeup and Fellcest. I mention this, because I ended up starting not one, but two fanworks that spin off from ATTL.

The first ATTL spinoff I wrote is "Ain't this a Lamia". In it, the Undefell bros find a lamia in their livingroom, and gay shit ensues.

I dunno why, i just thought that the poly would be even cuter if they had a horny snake with trauma and sass. I adore Slinky very much and hope he gets everything he wants <3

The second ATTL spinoff I wrote is "Ain't this more than Lust" In it, Red and Sans discover an Underlust Sans confidently selling himself for lunchmoney in a back alley, and gay shit tries to ensue but gets tripped up by trauma and sincerity (as of now -- I hope to add another installment to increase the percentage of gay).

I'm actually really excited to develop this story more, because i love the way these characters foil each other. ATTL Red just FITS next to an Underlust guy and it fills my heart with fluffies.

Both of these are the start of a series of the same names. The fics in them have an accumulated wordcount of ~30k each.

Kinktober 2019, Day 12, (Oct 12th 2019) is the inciting moment of my "Dr33mtal3" AU. (which is loosely, loosely inspired by, but is decidedly not Dreamtale). It's the first bit of writing where I tried to take my own idea and give it some life. Although technically i wouldn't start work in earnest until April 2020, when the first designs were made. That's why I consider April 7th to be Dr33mtal3's Birthday.

[Post 1] [Post 2] [Post 3] (These are all very ugly art compared to what I can do now lol)

After getting the designs started, i went into the fics!

The "Dr33mtal3" fic series on AO3 has substantially more multiverse content than content focusing on the isolated AU at this time, but isolated AU content is being worked on.

To delve into more of the isolated AU, I started taking Character Asks on the "Dr33mtal3" AU Blog in April 2022. Doing these asks really helps with improving my art. I have so much fun with them! I especially love when I get asks for other characters, like MadMewMew and Burgerpants !! But I do still also love the asks for the skelebros!

As for the Multiverse content, you will find plenty, both on the blog and on AO3!

Some of my finest work can actually be found in the 'Anthology' fics, specifically "An Anthology of Nightmares", which turned out to be of the gothic horror genre, and "An Anthology of Dreams", which was written with the intention of cerebral horror. They're both a little lovecraftian too, if you squint, although I was aiming for something else.

In An Anthology of Nightmares, you see what it's like to get picked up by Nightmare from many different peoples' point of view. You also see some of Nightmare's Castle, and what living there is like.

In An Anthology of Dreams, you follow along viewing Dream's life from the point of view of those around him. You start with the PoV of a Science!Sans (Sci), and eventually see Dream from several thoughtful angles!

You can also find my 3-Longpost long super-essay about Dream's house in these fics here on tumblr!

[Dream's House Post 1] [Dream's House Post 2] [Dream's House Post 3]

These desolate and unsettling anthologies are, however, only backstory for the Romance I am cultivating in what I plan as the main fic of this series: "Poignance". Although this story is only 14 chapters and 30k words in at this time (clearly unfinished), you can still follow an Underswap Papyrus into what will eventually be the slow burn epic romance he doesn't see coming.

This list is not comprehensive: there are numerous oneshots as well as unfinished works which have been pushed down my list of priorities. A few I want to make brief mention of because I like them:

"The Body Snatchers" Where an Underlust Sans starts a queerplatonic relationship with Fresh.

"A Night of Guns and Feathers" A thinkpiece about a relationship between a Mafiatale Sans (specifically the one detailed by my friend Catsitta, whom is called 'Karma') and D3!Nightmare.

"My Best Wingman" An Underlust fic I wrote for the To The Bone zine. Focuses on the brotherly relationship between Sans and Papyrus.

"Site Skin Ideas for UTMV Readers" A meta-fic to help make AU Disambiguating Freeform Tags easier to read and identify in the UTMV fandom.

"Bitty Magnitism" On of the fics I wrote when I was on a Bittybones kick, writing for the EMV spinoff series "EMV Bittybones Event" . Its about a Fellswap Sans going to a Bittybones adoption center, and the consequences that ensue.

Thanks for reading this far! I hope you found something you like!

#kamari333fanfiction #utmv #kamari333 bibliography

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jules-writes-stories · 2 months ago

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2024 Fic Writer End of Year Roundup

Answer and then tag three or more creators to keep the game going!

Thank you to everyone who tagged me! I'm sorry this is late. I've been working on it for days. It's really long.

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

366,893

2. How many fics did you complete this year?

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?

I have 1 WIP: A Love That Bleeds and a Koschei x Eris fic that's not posted yet (but close to drafted).

4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?

I love all my babes equally, but I am most proud of Just Enough Light to Cast Shadows, which was my first fan fic, and a true labor of love.

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

Monster feels different from a lot that I've written. It's pre-cannon and examines Lucien and Eris's relationship, and is not ship-centered.

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?

My Azris modern AU The Night Court Lounge really took me by the throat. It was supposed to be a slutty little spite fic and then it just took off. The boys caught feelings and I caught feelings. But I have @pippsmcgee to thank for hyping that story up. She was the brain child behind a big plot point, the pet names, and just talked me through positions and timing and what ifs... truly a gift.

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

Hmmm... not sure? Maybe my Amarantha x OC fic? It's hard to write pre-canon stories, especially for a villain! A Love That Bleeds is pretty dark and touches upon themes of slavery, love and autonomy, and is different from much that I write. But I am so proud of it.

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

There are too many talented artists to list. Here are a few: @nus4y who makes Azriel's skin literally glow and everything just screams passion. LOOK AT HIS BRILLIANCE on A03 (NSFW)

@queercontrarian never fails to surprise me. Their take on the Court fashions, hair styles, jewelry. So much diversity and representation. THIS is one of my all time favorites. THEEESAN.

@palomita-de-la-sangre whose style is so unique and gorgeous and raw. This is what I mean.

@seihdacalling is immensely talented! Her Eris and pups and JEL Eris? AND LOOK AT MITHRAS (my beloved OC).

@bloodyplunder whose work is so passionate and full of color and movement. LOOK at this! AND (NSFW) LOOK AT JEL CHAPTER 25 on AO3!

@fourteentrout is inspired and talented. And all around incredibly kind and supportive. Just brilliant. LOOK AT FIRE SPRITE ERIS

@laxibbeb creates characters' faces in a way that hold so much emotion. NESTA is a favorite, omg... and AZRIEL IN STIRRUPS.

@elleybug @chunkypossum @lucychanart (who made me a Tamsand believer. God, this one?) so many more...

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

There are SO many. First and foremost, @chunkypossum who welcomes new creators with so much warmth and support. Every single story. Every word is magical. @iftheshoef1tz is another legend who is so kind and warm and wickedly talented. Every single story is perfection. Will they adopt me as my Azris parents? Maybe. Congrats! It's a shoe-possum!

@the-darkestminds is truly someone I could write a book about. The emotions she brings out with her characters and words will leave you breathless. If you want to feel, read her stories. You will walk away so full of every emotion, but also with a newfound appreciation for each character. And @mistandmemories whose Eris is the funniest, most clever, most lovable in the biz. Her Azriel makes me laugh constantly. How you ask? Shenanigans. Windows, pants, awkward moments of self doubt and a precious inability to communicate. Go read it. The plots, the politics. The WIT. The decades of delicious edging. (It was several chapters but gods it felt like a lifetime).

These two have been writing their own multi-chapter fics beside me this year, and without their friendship and support, I probably wouldn't have finished. ILY!

@pippsmcgee will never be rid of me and my neurotic little paws. This one just looks at a story, a character, a scene, and says "you know what will make it even more (painful, sexy, exciting)?" And you better listen. But she also wrote a beautiful story about young Azriel that inspired me so much this year.

@shadowsandlint is full of talent-- Her prose is layered with meaning and flows so naturally. I can't put her stories down.

@zenkindoflove For her OC Alexius, who is my baby forever and ever. Creating an OC is gutsy and brave and takes so much talent. She's got it all. Also stunning world building and dialogues! And don't get me started on Elucien...

@talibunny30 For her depictions of young Nesta and her OC Boudica. She shows so much of Nesta's trauma in a thoughtful and honest way. I love it!

@neciebee whose writing is like poetry. Every time I read it I'm like, wait! Come back. Tell me more. I want... more? Gimme!

@witch-and-her-witcher whose fics are so magical. Her Nessian is my all time favorite. Nesta, Cassian, the Illyrian culture that she built for us. Just stunning.

@born-to-riot for VAMREN. But also sexy plots, hilarious shadows, and fluffy Azris moments we need.

@acourtofladydeath for writing pieces that challenge readers to sit with uncertainty-- gray characters and grief that lingers but also carry lessons and hope.

@secret-third-thing for such perfect storytelling-- every word matters and every image counts. The descriptions and details are exact, the settings are lush and imaginative. Also, Artaban.

I could keep going... If you are not on this list, but I've commented or left kudos or bookmarked your fic, you've left a mark. If not, I'm coming for you in 2025!

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

@g00seg1rl who writes smut like a witch. A very sexy witch. @nus4y who is another sexy witch? Watch out for these two. @jolenes-library is so talented! Motorcycle Azris AU. Enough said. @buffy-vanserra whose prose is beautiful. Every word matters. @clockwork-ashes has so many lovely pieces I couldn't choose just one. @unanswered-stars for those damn letters. You know the ones. I'm still crying. @yanny-77 : Best Elain in the biz. And the Lip Ring.

11. Did you do any collaborations? How did it start?

@brunetterebel010 @mistandmemories and I wrote A Solstice Carol. It started as a lot of joking about Rhys being Scrooge. And it became a true passion project! @talibunny30 helped with brainstorming ideas and beta reading, and @fieldofdaisiies and @pippsmcgee beta read.

Also my partner in crime in all Azris fics: @pippsmcgee who talks me through plotting the political animal, asks the important questions, and twists the knife of angst. She keeps my eyeball obsession in check.

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

I'm most proud of Just Enough Light to Cast Shadows. It really is silly, but finishing it, right at the end of 2024, and looking back at all the new friends I've made along the way, and how it has touched other people just makes this year feel special.

Thank you so much to @pippsmcgee for helping me land that plane. And for being my very first comment, ever. When I saw you and @talibunny30 and @neciebee were reading, I felt legit. And to @mistandmemories and @the-darkestminds who were on this journey with me. It was so important to walk beside you during it all!

13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?

Write was brings you joy. Comparison is the thief of that joy. You can only write your own story, and it's ok if it's not for everyone. Because a story that is everyone's is probably no one's, you know? It will reach the people it needs to.

Outlines are important (for my process). They saved my ass so many times. And beta readers. And friends. And reader-readers. They all saved me too.

14. What is your advice?

Surround yourself with people who cheer you on. Be sure to support other creators. The community aspect of fandom is important. We're all just out here putting our hearts onto the screen and hitting Post.

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

Finish A Love That Bleeds, Finish my Koschei x Eris fic, and start plotting out a longer Azris multi-chapter fic. It's a little seed right now, but one day soon...

#acotar asks #askjules #acotar fanfiction

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theyoungeragrippina · 1 year ago

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🫶🏻 15 gentlebeard/blackbonnet fic recs

(17 if you squint)

hey legends, in this bittersweet period where a lot of a us are feeling gutted but simultaneously, rebelliously hopeful, i've emerged from my reading den to showcase to you all some of the brilliant talent we have in this fandom! these fics are some of the best of the best, and i hope you love them just as much as i do! <3

they are all complete, do not feature any ongoing steddyhands/edizzy/stizzy, and are above 20k words.

peruse part 1, part 2, and part 3 at your leisure if you want to compare our tastes/devour more fine literature, or check out my masterlist as an ao3 collection.

adrift between the dreaming seas by @dandy-pirate-time

49k, mature, locked

stede lives a cursed life on a moving island, until the monotony of his days is suddenly interrupted by the fearsome kraken.

this was such a fascinating & incredible idea! i love how it manipulates aspects of the original story and transforms them into parts of the cursed island <3 sweet & unique & magical. i want to hug poor stede.

Five Birthdays and a Funeral by @bizarrelittlemew

58k, explicit

"When Ed and Stede's friend groups merge, they meet at a birthday party, and Stede's life is turned upside-down. As they collide again and again, he not only has to figure out what Ed means to him, but what he means to himself."

stede gets to be oblivious and a bit of a silly goose as a treat. also: treasure hunts, lucius is the best, ed has a cat whom i would die for, such a sweet & heartfelt fic. you will be so unbelievably fond of this version of every character.

The Ghost of Frigate Point Lighthouse by @piratecaptainscaptainpirates

53k, explicit

"When history professor Stede Bonnet goes to investigate rumors of a ghost haunting the local lighthouse, he's thrust into a mystery centered around the ghost of one of the most famous pirates of all time."

was SO eager to read this and it did not disappoint!! it has everything - fun, magic, mystery, tired TA lucius, and a lil bit of seduction. good enough that i am worried the author may actually just be a sea witch recollecting events he personally witnessed.

Haunted by @thepirateroo

60k, explicit

"The Kraken is a famous spiritualist, working the music halls of 1920s London to help families communicate with their dead. But Stede Bonnet knows that underneath the fame and illustrious title, Edward Teach works as a ghost hunter, debunking the spirits he makes his living off."

this is, genuinely, in the top 5 fanfics i have read for any fandom EVER. i wouldn't bat an eyelid if i read this exact work as a published novel in a bookstore. the mystery is so good and had me guessing and re-theorising constantly, the characterisation is brilliant, and the emotions are perfect. i cried, i laughed, i felt sick with worry for the characters, and i couldn't stop reading until i was done.

haunt me, then by @hyruling

28k, explicit

"He releases the ropes slowly, barely registering the burn as they slip through his fingers. Then, fallible as Orpheus, turns to meet his ghost."

post s1 fixit fics ily. everyone needs some therapy. really VERY well written and a joy to read.

Homeward Bound by mari_who

51k, explicit

"In the long-ago year 2000, bouncy blonde boy-band member Stede Bonnet is 17-year-old Edward Teach's gay awakening. Decades later, Ed hears a voice he could never forget."

i said 'ohhh no poor ed/stede' so many times while reading this. a lovely exploration of emotion and human connection, and finding yourself when everyone else has always defined who you are on your behalf.

I just need some air by @cuddlytogas

26k, teen

"Stede Bonnet's been having panic attacks for almost as long as he can remember, suffocated by pressure and expectation... When [he] finally takes his life back — divorces Mary, moves to Melbourne, starts his own event management business — things get better, but he's still no good at parties. He still needs some air, even at the very events he's brought to fruition. Meanwhile, Edward Teach, renowned chef and owner of Blackbeard's Catering, is wondering why the newest bigwig in events still hasn't hired him."

zoomed through this faster than lightning mcqueen. such a lovely writing of stede, ed and the whole crew - it feels like there's depth in every character, even background ocs.

also fantastic australia rep (i was jumpscared by mention of the cotton on group) AND i've been to the bar the final scene takes place at!!!! most exciting reading experience of my life.

i'll be your treasure by @monksofthescrew

48k, mature

"Wasn't the Dread Pirate Blackbeard rumored to have a hoard hidden somewhere near Essex? It's a metal detecting AU. They're detectorists. They fall in love."

i LOVE this fic so much it is just,,,, so sweet. stede does self-discovery and is seduced. ed is a bit of a goose and i'm obsessed with him. doug and mary are lovely. alma is so cool and i love her.

+ the sequel! drift o'er the rolling hills, swim through the briny sea (made me cry. btw. doug keeps being the best.)

The Kraken's Sacrifice by @trinityofone

22k, explicit

"Every year, a person is chosen—supposedly at random—to be sacrificed to the Kraken, to quell the sea's worst storms and to stop the taking of ships... Stede discovers that there is much more to the creature than he was led to believe—and that they have a deeper connection than he could have ever dreamed."

i LOVED this okay. it was funny and sweet and gave an interesting spin to the ed-is-the-kraken genre. get both of these boys some self-esteem asap. also comes with art by @avatoh!!!!!

lovers in a dangerous time by @veeagainsttheday

52k, explicit

pacific rim au - "Edward Teach becomes a jaeger pilot, first with Izzy Hands and later with Stede Bonnet. It’s not easy trying to save the world and falling in love with your drift partner…"

made me feel every emotion under the sun, including foaming at the mouth jealous that i don't have a drift partner. absolutely, masterfully written. i've popped this link first since its the fic that focuses on stede & ed, but it was written as a prequel for:

+ catagory five: a shatterdome romance by @owlinaminor (27k, mature), which focuses predominantly on jim & oluwande, and which i also massively recommend reading (first). it's told through lucius' words and made up of journalistic notes and transcriptions, and its really terribly clever. i knew nothing about pacific rim before this, and now i'm really very invested. if i wrote something this fantastic (& creative & wildly unique) i would never shut up about it.

More of the Gravy Basket than of the Grave by @veeagainsttheday

36k, explicit

"Ed and Stede’s ‘unorthodox friendship’ ended four months ago when Stede left Ed without a word after Ed asked him to run away to a parallel universe with him. They’re thrown back together when they’re summoned to perform a supernatural exorcism at the Hillside Hotel during a blizzard."

this has got to be one of the coolest and most creative fics i have ever had the pleasure of reading. genuinely kept me guessing and so so intrigued, PLUS the most sweet stede & ed dynamic!!!

Nothing Missing in My Life by @semisweetshadow

63k, explicit, locked

"Hollywood action star Ed Teach is bored with his celebrity life. Everything changes when he meets Stede, a sweet extra working on the set of his latest film shoot. Stede doesn't know who Ed really is and treats him like a real person and Ed can't help wanting to keep him."

ed plays an action hero called jeff the accountant, and if that's not immediately the greatest synopsis ever idk how else to win you over. hilarious, clever, & so heartfelt. i gasped and said 'oh no' with a hand over my heart nearly as many times as i laughed out loud.

not pickles by smallestchurch

84k, explicit

"Ed's minding his business when the new neighbor's kid comes around holding a human puppet. It's creepy as hell, but as soon as the kid's father rounds the corner, Ed doesn't mind."

i actually feel a bit ill when i think about this fic because i love it so overwhelmingly. there's family, and healing, and good food and friends, and ed teach and louis bonnet become the dynamic duo they always had the potential to be.

Our Fangs Mean Death by @flawedamythyst

87k, teen, locked

"Master Vampire Blackbeard's afterlife is enlivened by the arrival of a new coven in town, lead by the self-styled Gentleman Vampire. Now here's a Master who doesn't mind shaking things up by wearing clothes 300 years out of date, buying a massive gothic mansion for a lair, and leading the most eclectic coven Blackbeard has ever seen."

ridiculously fun. this is the vampire novel/fic i didn't know i needed and i loved every silly second. stede really gets to fulfil his dad-ness. i'm furious i can't join the gentleman vampires coven irl, will just need to embrace the gothic vampire aesthetic in my own life.

Wayfaring by @justkeeptrekkin

35k, explicit

"The downside to being stuck on a desert island is that Stede's not awfully good at adapting. The upside is that he and Ed can finally have some peace and quiet– that is, if Ed ever wakes up from the gunshot wound in his stomach."

the sweetest desert island fic, feat. the cutest piglet in the world, a little bit of pining, a helpful skeleton named dusty, and some of the best & most accurately written stede and ed content ever (imo).

#really cannot emphasise how brilliant every one of these fics is #they are all worth 100 million kudos and eternal love #please lmk if i have mistagged anyone or not tagged u!!!#or lmk if u have any favourites or other recs #i would love to talk more about any one of these #ofmd #our flag means death #renew as a crew #save ofmd #ofmd fic recs #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #blackbonnet fic recs #gentlebeard fic recs

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inkedinshadows · 2 months ago

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Answer and then tag three or more creators to keep the game going!

Thank you so much @velarisdusk for the tag! 🫶🏻

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

I don't have anything published on AO3 simply because I still don't know how to use it even though I do have an account. But here on tumblr, it's 92.878

2. How many fics did you complete this year?

49! I've never counted them before and never realized just how many they were omg

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?

Ongoing only Bound By Secrets. In progress apparently 10? I thought I had 3 WIPs. I completely forgot about the other 7 lol

4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?

UGH how do I choose one? A Helping Hand has a special place in my heart because it's the first fic I wrote and posted. Night and Days is one of my favorites because I love the banter between Azriel and reader, and I also have to mention Say My Name because omg I loved writing that one and I know I might be biased but I was giggling and kicking my feet while writing.

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

I'd say the first few things I wrote rather than one in particular for the simple reason that in Italian I tend to write very long sentences because it's normal, but in English sentences are usually shorter so it took a bit to get into that mindset. As for experimental, I'm trying to write a fic from two povs at the same time, sort of like an omniscient narrator. We'll see how it turns out.

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?

Many fics surprise me while writing because I don't plan them out that much other than a few things I want to happen and then I see where the story leads me. As for reception, Bound by Secrets. I didn't expect so many people asking for a part 2! (I'll write it, I promise)

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

The Path To Healing and on a happier (and smutty) note Alcohol and Giggles. I cried writing the first one and laughed writing the second one.

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

I love every single fanart by madschofield and elizianna.the.one!

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

@writingcroissant was the first author I found on here, the literal reason I created an account was to read her fics, and @illyrianbitch was the second. I love everything they write and it made me want to write again.

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

@shedoessoshedoes and @duskandcobalt! I'm going to read all of your fics so don't be surprised if you see me in your notifications for the next few weeks 🥰

11. Did you do any collaborations? How did it start

Nope, no collaborations.

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

Kinktober! I decided to do it two weeks before it started and didn't think I'd be able to write all 31 one fics but I did it!

13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?

When I started posting, I kept opening tumblr every five minutes to see if there were any new notes/comments/etc. Now I don't do that anymore. I still care about people enjoying my content of course and any kind of feedback is always super appreciated, but I don't need to continuously check to know that my writing is valid and good even if I get only a few likes.

14. What is your advice?

I'm the wrong person to ask this to, but I guess write what you like and what you want to read. I know it's basic, but never before I realized just how true it is. Feedback and appreciation for your work is awesome, but you have to be the first one to like it or it's probably going to turn out bland if you push yourself to write something you don't like or are not interested in.

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

Finish working on all those WIPs apparently lol. And I have an idea for a series that I want to work on as well.

No pressure of course, but if you'd like to @azrielslittleslut @anarchiii @shedoessoshedoes or anyone else who wants to do it!

#tag game #fanfic #writing

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wangxianficrecs · 1 month ago

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Follower Recs

~*~

This is an ongoing fic, but the authors are updating daily and they say it is a completed fic (so you can choose to wait or post immediately?)

It's a funny retelling of canon mostly, told from the POV of Jin Ling, and looks like it might be a short fic. (It's only 2k words so far and there's 5 chapters out as of today).

I would recommend it for anyone who is looking for a laugh! - Anon

[Mod Kay: The way the queue is running, the fic already finished posting by the time this rec got posted!]

All My Uncles Have Killed Someone

by Indelible_Faith (TheWaterGoddess) (@indelibleme) & Thedivinewriter_20 (@ineffablequeenoftheuniverse)

G, WIP, 8k, Wangxian

Summary: Truly, all my uncles have killed someone. A couple of the more… enterprising ones, have killed more than once. Sometimes at the same time, in one go, all at once. Usually, it’s another uncle. Or another family member—though, lots have tried that, with varying levels of success. Some of them are good, others bad and some are just unfortunate. Hi, I’m Jin Ling (Rulan). Call me Jin-zongzhu. I’m your friendly neighbourhood reliable narrator of whatever events that unfold. Although, fair warning—for more than half of these events, I was not present, so any discrepancies that you notice should be ignored. I said I’m friendly and reliable, not necessarily accurate.

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for these hard-working authors if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

#February 2025 #Wangxian Fic Recs #follower recs #follower rec #mdzs #MDZS #Mo Dao Zu Shi #CQL #Chenqingling #The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation #The Untamed #Wangxian #All My Uncles Have Killed Someone #Indelible_Faith (TheWaterGoddess)#Thedivinewriter_20 #Gen #short fic <15k

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maya-caffrey · 27 days ago

Note

Thank you for replying to my question about you writing for The Mentalist. Could I please request something with Patrick Jane dragging Reader into dancing with him and this prompt "I'm not very good at this.." "Well you've stepped on my feet at least 5 times, so trust me, I know" Thank you and have a lovely day❤️

sorry this took so long, i hope it's what you had in mind <3

La Vie En Rouge

pairing: patrick jane x reader

words: 500 words (sorry she's so small, i'm having a terrible writer's block T_T)

warnings: none, we stay wholesome in this house; fic from reader's pov per usual (if you're new here hi welcome this is how we roll)

summary: Dance Dance Revolution (jk refer to ask for plot summary x)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Contrary to what I had believed for most of my life, I was, apparently, a terrible dancer. I always thought I'd be decent or, like, not dying scarecrow-esque at the very least, but come the day of the undercover op, I found that my feet were suddenly sentient, and would not listen listen to me.

"God, I suck at this, don't I?"

"Well you've stepped on my feet at least 5 times, so trust me, I know"

Patrick, bless his heart, was trying his level best to keep up with the battle between me, my feet, and the ground (we were all losing badly), but he didn't even attempt to hide his amusement at my plight, which, honestly, made me want to step on his feet on purpose.

"Stop laughing, it's not funny," I tried to sound stern and argue, but noooooo, it had to come out sounding like I was desperately trying to hold back tears, as if not being able to dance was a terminal medical diagnosis.

"It's a little funny, I'll admit it-"

"Jane! I look ridiculous."

“No, no,” he said, lips twitching as he fought (and failed) to keep a straight face. “Ridiculous would imply some level of intentional absurdity. You, on the other hand, look like you’re attempting to fight the laws of physics in real-time.”

I groaned, glaring at him. “How are you so good at this?”

“Oh, it’s simple. I just listen to the music.”

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Then narrowed my eyes.

“That’s the worst advice I’ve ever heard.”

Jane sighed, like a man deeply burdened by my lack of coordination.

“You think too much.” He spun me- rude- before I could protest, catching me as I stumbled back into place. “Dancing isn’t about micromanaging every step. It’s about letting go. Trusting your partner.”

I let out a short, incredulous laugh. “You do realize I know you, right? ‘Trusting my partner’ sounds like an incredibly dangerous idea when my partner is you.”

Jane just grinned, completely unoffended. “Fair.”

And yet, despite everything- my lack of rhythm, the ongoing war with gravity, the very real possibility that I was going to need to ice his feet later- he didn’t let go. If anything, his grip shifted, just slightly, like he was actually holding onto me rather than just keeping me upright for the sake of the case.

It was subtle. Barely even a thing.

But I noticed it.

And then, because I was me, I immediately noticed that I noticed it, and my brain short-circuited for a second.

Unfortunately, Jane picked up on that, too.

The corner of his mouth quirked upward, and his eyes flickered with something- something unreadable, which was unfair because reading people was his thing, not mine.

“Relax,” he murmured, voice softer now, just between us. “I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you

He smirked, eyes glinting with amusement. And just like that, whatever almost moment had passed. Back to work. Back to the case.

And yet-

The words lingered.

I’ve got you

I shook it off. It didn’t mean anything.

Probably.

#patrick jane x reader #patrick jane x you #the mentalist x reader #the mentalist imagines #simon baker #patrick jane x gender neutral reader #the mentalist fanfiction #reader inserts #imagines #fluff #maya writes #the mentalist fluff #patrick jane fluff #patrick jane x reader fluff #the mentalist x reader fluff

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mushiemellows · 6 months ago

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✨UPDATED!✨

All of my Frobin fics I have written from December 2023 when I first started writing, up through my most recent work posted October 2024, stored in one convenient place! 🌸

🍔 Staying Right Here (and not a step closer)

RATING: E

words: 317,056 status: COMPLETE chapters: 14

Set the week Post-Enies Lobby. The core lore mostly canon compliant getting together fic. Weird sex, fast food, and an accidental wedding. My first big fic, and an adventure into writing smut. Epilogues go up through timeskip/Fishman Island reunion.

🐊 These Foolish Things

RATING: M

words: 14,178 status: ONE SHOT

Includes the Wanihana ship to tell a story of Robin's healing over time. A songfic that uses a whole catalog of Frank Sinatra songs to frame Franky and Crocodile's differing relationships to Robin. A bit more serious, as it discusses abuse. This one was a practice in writing in complex tense.

✈️ Floating Through the Stratosphere

RATING: E

words: 30,742 status: COMPLETE chapters: 2

Modern day airplane pilot AU except they are only rarely on the plane. Half one-bed-rom-com, half amnesia medical drama. This was a really fun world to build up, and I've been considering writing more stories within this world.

🕵🏻‍♀️ The Sunday Affair

RATING: E

Words: 108,898 status: COMPLETE chapters: 11

Robin is a Russian spy, Franky is an American spy. Its 1967 Cold War DC. Franky is assigned to find and kill an assassin named Sunday, Robin has to assassinate an agent named Flam. Oh, and they're married.

⏱ Another Day in the Sun

RATING: T

words: 43,413 status: ONGOING chapters: 7/ ???

The crew is stuck in a time loop, living the same day over and over again, but only some can tell. Matchmakers Robin and Franky have to get everyone to kiss each other. A thinly veiled fun little excuse to make everyone make out. And also its a bit (lot) poly (Paradise+EB5). An adventure in keeping things T.

👌 The Contest

Rating: M

Words: 10,220 status: ONE SHOT

Nami has the crew bet how long they can all go without…finding their satisfaction, so to speak. She’s determined to make it out of the contest eight hundred thousand beri richer, but that will mean making plenty of sacrifices. Will the crew be able to hold it together or will the pressure make them pop? (EB5+Frob+a bit of Paradise with Jinbe+some NamiRobin tease)

🍼 Super Troupers

RATING: M

words: 11,130 status: ONGOING chapters: 1 (/3)

A baby fic! Chapter 1 is mostly set up, pregnancy, and delivery. But I'm still working at the follow up chapters, I want to tell more little stories with each of the boys. A bit sweet and sappy and emotionally indulgent but I don't care I love this fambly. M rating only for blood and a few intense discussions around pregnancy.

⚡️ What Makes a Man

RATING: M

words: 58,073 status: ONGOING chapters: 14 (/25)

Putting the Franky in Frankenstein. A reanimation fic. Franky dies at Laugh Tale but leaves behind instructions for Robin to put him back together. Mainly meant to be little pocket character studies. BACK FROM THE DEAD, NOT ABANDONED FIC! I told ya I'd update it.

💀 For the Thrill of It

RATING: E

words: 46,551 status: COMPLETE chapters: 2

Nasty spooky Thriller Bark monsterfucker erotica. Brook joins the party and things get Weird. 5+1 but more like a 5+2. Established Frob with added skeleton. Chapter 2 has now been added, Robin's pov + bonus scenes. And perhaps a chapter 3 still lives in the back of my brain.

🤖 Handle With Care

RATING: E

words: 13,365 status: ONE SHOT

More nasty erotica for the sake of itself. Franky gets hurt, needing significant repairs and a full service tune up. This one is distinctly T4T. This one was written simply because no one else had written like, proper robot shit with Franky on ao3 and I was so appalled to see the hole in the market that I just HAD to fill it.

🧰 Showoff (the devil’s in the details)

RATING: E

words: 16,929 status: ONE SHOT

Even MORE pwp. Post-Egghead on the run to Elbaf, Franky shows Lilith Sunny and all of his little inventions. Things heat up between him, her, and Robin, but Vegapunk keeps all the praise to herself. This one was written in gut reaction to the most recent chapter, and I think I wrote it for entirely personal reasons lol. Franky just wants to be told he did a good job.

That's all I wrote! 610,000 words this year (of just my posted fics, not counting other works and wips) (and 45,000 words posted Halloweek alone!). I'm really proud about how my writing has developed over the year, I hadn't written much in the past so this was a huge journey, but a really fun one. Thanks for growing with me! Enjoy the works!

#yes my ao3 and tumblr names are slightly different #its bc this is where i chill tf out #long post #my fic #one piece #frobin #nico robin #op robin #cyborg franky #op franky #one piece franky #ao3 #fic masterpost #I have written TOO MUCH this year #mdni #UPDATED #need to be put down for posting 600k in 11 months

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illusoriess · 10 months ago

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lestappen fic recs: an (ongoing) masterlist

here it finally is! because i promised!! a hopefully ongoing collection of my favorite lestappen fics, all on ao3.

LONG FICS (over 35k words)

Long Live (The Walls We Crashed Through) by Fabby | Explicit | 80.7k words

“What are you doing?” Charles asked, his voice cracking. Max blinked at him once before he smirked and said, “Well... I was going to kiss you.” “Why?” “Because I want to.” “Why?” Charles repeated, feeling like his legs were going to give out. “Is that not a good enough reason?” Max asked. OR: The childhood best friends to lovers fairy-tale-soulmates fic that nobody asked for. Charles has been in love with Max since he was seven years old.

I'm sure this one can go without saying since you all have probably read it, but it's a classic, and I'm including it on pure principle. This fic has it all.

2. Yours by loquarocoeur | Explicit | 53.9k words

Charles looks much too satisfied as Max leans back against the door, one eyebrow tugging up as he asks, “Do you want to fight?” “Of course I want to fight.” Charles only looks slightly amused. “Then fight.” "Stop fucking telling me what to do!" Max yells. Charles cocks his head. "What, because it turns you on?" Alternatively: Max doesn't want to like Charles, but Charles makes that really fucking difficult sometimes

To Bottom Max enjoyers, this will become your Bible if you haven't read it already. To tentative Max Bottom explorers, you will love this fic even if you never read Bottom Max again. But it might change your brain chemistry, so be careful.

3. half of a heaven by weiwuxian | Explicit | 38.9k words

“Good evening. I’m Charles,” he offers his hand, which Max takes and for a second, Charles thinks he’s going to kiss the back of it. Some muscle spasms in the tight grip, rough velvet against soft skin. When Charles gets his hand back, it feels like he lost a finger or two in the fight. “What’s your poison, Charles?” Max asks, settling on the barstool like it’s not designed to be the most uncomfortable chair in the world. “Cyanide, usually. I’ll settle for a gin tonic for now.” or: Charles is a supermodel that has learned everything he needs to make his world turn. Now, he has no idea what Max Verstappen wants from him.

charles' black cat energy is strong in this fic. and man's laden with issues. he's an eccentric supermodel and max is an f1 driver and big ol' simp. once again they're dumb, but they're lestappen, come on. fork found in kitchen.

4. give me that fire by Lady_Something | Explicit | 39.8k words

“Can you work with him?” Max has to take two drags of his cigarette before he can answer, and even then all he says is, “He knew I was the head chef, didn’t he.” Charles has to have known. Even if the news hadn’t reached him that Max had taken over as the head chef of Taureau Rouge, he would not have travelled all the way from Paris to London for an interview at a restaurant without knowing who he’d be working under. Still, Charles was the one who broke up with him. Max has to know, for sure. “He knows,” Christian confirms softly. “He outright laughed at me when I called and asked him to come work at one of my restaurants. It was only after I said it was Taureau Rouge, working with you, that he agreed to come.” Fuck. Fuck. Max could’ve gone his whole life without knowing that. He probably fucking should have, because how is he supposed to be normal about it? // Max and Charles have history, but it doesn't stop Charles from coming to work as Max's new sous chef. It does mean that everything changes for them both in the space of a single week.

Chef aus seem to be a trend in the f1 ficdom and I eat that shit up every time. This fic is no exception. Anyways they're so messy and flawed, it's beautiful

5. unwritten by NovaCloud | Teen and Up | 37.6k words

Reach for your dreams. Charles is trying, but it’s fucking hard. Falling in love with Max wasn’t part of his plans. Running away is easier, at least that way he won’t get hurt. Right? - Letting out a breathy laugh Charles shakes his head. He puts down the little shot glass and turns to Max, staring at him. “You spent my yearly pay check on me?" “I spent it on charity,” Max corrects him with a slight smirk as he casually leans against the bar. Charles wants to kiss it off his face. “I’m very concerned with wildlife conservation.” Charles snorts. “It’s for biodiversity.” “And that too, of course.” "You're insane, you know that?"

As someone in journalism I had to suspend my disbelief at some parts but that's honestly part of the charm tbh. Just silly, dramatic, fun, and cute. Plus billionaire Max is... yeah.

MEDIUM FICS (15k - 35k words)

straight lines (that unwind you) by 140445 | Explicit | 16.3k words

“Do you know him?” Arthur asks. “No,” Charles decides. Because he does not. He knows Max is a mathematics major, and that he plays chess. And that he hits the gym. And what he looks like when he comes. Details.

The tag "meet-cute but it's a meet-disaster" is used, which is accurate. A good mix of comedy but also heart-wrenching... sweetness? romance? they're both extremely stupid and extremely lestappen and it's just amazing. and great smut ofc.

2. home (is wherever I'm with you) by actparci | Not Rated | 17.9k

On the drive back to the hotel Max had turned to him, blue eyes fierce and piercing. “Promise me you won’t stop being angry. You’re angry because you know what you can do. Use it, control it, let it fuel you. Other people won’t understand but that doesn’t matter, you know what you’re capable of.” You and me, he’d seemed to say, we’re the same. Charles wonders now how he ever thought Max wouldn’t understand. Or: Charles leaves Ferrari, tries to win a championship, and learns some things about belonging. All the while, Max is there.

Another one you've all probably read. If I were to describe this fic in one word, it's "cathartic". Who needs therapy when you have Charles Fix It Fics???

3. kitty conundrum by linearity | Explicit | 18k words

Charles shows up to Monaco with kitty ears and a tail. Max is totally normal about it.

spoiler alert: he's not normal about it. thanks to some magical realism you get this almost-omegaverse-but-not-quite fic, and lestappen are just two horny idiots.

4. friday night; i'm in love by autumnapricot | General Audiences | 21k words

Charles hates Max. Well, not really—hate is probably far too big of a word for it. Max annoys Charles. Well, not really either, because Max doesn’t, like, do anything purposely to annoy Charles or goes out of his way or acts with ill intention, or whatever. At least he pretends like he doesn’t, so. Charles is annoyed by Max. Yes, that’s more like it. [Or—Max and Charles work together in an office, eight hours a day, five times a week. Strangely enough, it’s friday nights that bring them closer.]

They're so silly and sweet in this fic and I was endlessly endeared reading it. I'm a bitch for an office au, especially when it involves a ridiculous one-sided rivals to lovers.

5. even the sun sets in paradise by PrincessElectra | Teen and Up | 27.7k words

If he had to name the place where the story of Max and Charles began, if there was a moment that divided them into Before and After, there would be a few candidates. But there was only one correct answer. He would never forget the name. The place is called Val d’Argenton. Stories are still being written there. Charles likes to tell the story of the incident - turn by turn, infused with poetic drama, detailing every single emotion: frustration, anger, pure spite. Every time he tells it, his smile grows along with the laughter in his eyes, even as his words recount a tale of opposing emotions. “I never want to go back to Val d’Argenton,” Charles once confessed. “We’ll never go back there,” he promised, and Charles knew what he meant.

This fic is... everything <3 The hurt/comfort is just done so well; it gives meaning to the phrase "in sickness and in health." Their love is just written so beautifully.

SHORT FICS (under 15k words)

Cheating at Bingo and Other Christmas Traditions by WanderingBlindly | General Audiences | 12.4k words

"You know, there’s a very nice, very handsome young man in my neighborhood –” She starts back up, flagging down their waiter for another glass of wine. “Absolutely not,” He cuts her off with a dismissive wave of the hand. “Next topic.” “So you’re too good for him, is that it?” She sounds defensive, but her tone still has a mocking edge to it – emphasized by the quirk of her brows. Hardly holding back a groan, Charles tries to think of a way out of this. She’s like a cat, batting at him until he gives up, rolls over, and plays dead. “That’s not – I’m just busy, and it’s –” Or: Hallmark style fluff featuring an irritated Charles, a well-meaning Max, and the grandma that just wants them to kiss

Short and sweet, just pure fluff and Christmas joy. If you just want to read something nice and also pretend like it's Christmas in July, then this is the fic for you.

2. Clothes by Anonymous | Mature | 2.6k words

5 times Charles steals Max's clothes and the 1 time Max rips his clothes off of him.

cute domestic lestappen. they're adorable. that's all <3

3. Saturdays by NerdHerder12 | Teen and Up | 3.1k words

On Saturdays, Max visits Charles.

Proceed with caution. I feel physically ill after reading this fic and I really only read it when I want to hurt my own feelings. But it's so good.

4. And That's How I Foksmashed Dad's Championship Trophy by PrincessElectra | Teen and Up | 6.5k words

All of that would have been forgivable if not for the Green-Eyed Monster’s complete disregard for the pre-contracted occupation rights of Max’s lap. Such rights had long been pre-determined and belonged to Sassy (and occasionally to Jimmy, she admitted begrudgingly). However, no amount of quiet hisses and vicious glares seemed to penetrate the creature’s thick skull, and he would greedily occupy Max’s thigh for more than 95% of any given afternoon. Sometimes with his head, sometimes with his feet, and a few times he even straddled his entire body over Max; the latter could not have been comfortable for Max, as the Green-Eyed Monster was enormously overweight compared to Sassy. (Jimmy had insisted that it was not nice to shame another living creature about their weight, but she was not wrong. With her compact size and considerably more reasonable mass, Sassy was confident that she was much more comfortable for Max to have on his lap than that horrendously oversized creature.)

Another hit by PrincessElectra. The beauty of this fic is how hilarious but also fluffy it manages to be. Sassy needs to narrate all future lestappen fics, I don't make the rules

#lestappen #lestappen fanfic #illusories fic recs

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