#made me write like five different fics to try and fix it...

[vulpinesaint]

so glad to see my little geralt of rivia post getting notes. i am the world's most average witcher lore understander (two seasons of the netflix show and three of the books and a bunch of time spent gleaning real lore from what people use in fanfiction) but i Do consider myself more correct than most people when it comes to understanding geralt of rivia. this is because i want to put him in a centrifuge and spin him around and my judgement is therefore unclouded by things like liking him as a character

[alsofoundinpeas]

Dinner for Two(ish)

Summary: Since the beginning of your relationship, you and Spencer have made it a tradition to share a candlelit dinner at home every Valentine's Day. But this year, the evening has a surprise guest—one who’s about to change everything.

CONTENT WARNINGS: (While this fic itself isn't explicit content, my blog is 18+ so please keep this in mind!!) Mentions of past infertility issues. Pregnancy announcement. Both reader and Spencer cry but it's happy tears!! Established relationship. Fluff <3 (I think that's all but feel free to let me know if there are any I should add!)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader/afab!reader

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day my angels!! <3 This is way different than my usual fics so I hope you guys like it :') I figured something short and sweet (not a Sabrina reference but still giggling) would be best for today. I did try a different writing style instead of using Y/N so any feedback would be greatly appreciated! I also have a requested fic coming out Sunday or Monday that I'm excited for you guys to read <3 As always, please tell me what you think! If you enjoy it, please like, reblog, and share it with your friends :) Thank you and I love you all!!

Nerves wrack your body as you pace the kitchen, your heart pounding so hard you swore it was bound to leap right out of your ribcage if you were to stop moving.

Spencer called a few minutes ago to let you know he was on his way home, leaving you with almost an hour to set everything up for his surprise. You’d kept the call brief and kept your voice even so he wouldn’t suspect anything—a surprising feat, considering your body was (and still is) trembling like a leaf caught in a windstorm. In a way, you were thankful he’d had back-to-back cases recently.

Despite missing him so much it ached and worrying about him every second you were awake (and even in your subconscious as you slept), Spencer being away so often made keeping your secret much easier.

The wedding ring on your finger spun endlessly as you continued to fidget with it—a nervous habit that you’d picked up the second Spencer slid it on. A glance at the clock on the stove told you he’d be home in roughly five minutes. A shaky sigh filled the air as you attempted to swallow your nerves, lighting the candles you’d set up on the dining table and fixing your plates with the food you spent over an hour preparing because everything had to be perfect for tonight.

The familiar sound of keys jingling and the lock turning sent your blood rushing through your veins, humming beneath your skin in an excited current as you wait for your husband to open the door.

Spencer stepped inside, wearing an exhausted smile and holding a bouquet of the most beautiful flowers he could find last minute before the florist down the street closed their shop. His face lit up at the sight of the candlelit dinner, the crinkles around his eyes making your nerves settle just a little. It reminded you that the man in front of you was the love of your life, and that, despite how scary it felt, everything would be just fine.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” he murmured as he made his way over to you, pulling you into a tight but mindful hug so that he didn’t crush your flowers. "Dinner smells amazing. You spoil me."

A soft laugh escaped your lips as you waved a hand dismissively, pressing a tender kiss to his before taking the flowers to put them in a vase. "You don’t need to butter me up, Spence. I’m already your wife," you teased, though your cheeks flushed at the compliment.

"Something I’m grateful for every day," Spencer said with sincerity, moving behind you to wrap his arms around you and place a soft kiss on the top of your head.

After arranging the flowers in the vase and setting them on the table, the two of you sat down to eat. As you picked at your food, Spencer noticed you nervously fidgeting with your ring. His brow furrowed in concern as he wondered what could possibly be making you so anxious. Finally, he set his fork down, unable to stay quiet any longer.

"Honey, what's wrong? What's got you so worked up?"

His voice caught your attention, causing you to glance up from where you were gathering another bite onto your fork. Your teeth dug into your lower lip as you averted your gaze, contemplating waiting until the both of you were done eating or just telling him right now so you could get it out of the way. With a deep breath, you decided on the latter, letting your fork hit the plate with a soft clink as you cleared your throat.

"I...um. I actually have a present for you this year. Stay right here," you whispered as you got up, ignoring his protests as you hurried into your shared bedroom to grab the small box you'd put together for him. The box couldn't have been more than half a pound at most, but its contents had you feeling like you were carrying the weight of the world in your hands—and technically, you were.

Spencer eyed you skeptically as you returned, his gaze immediately dropping to the box as you placed it in front of him. "Sweetheart, I've told you that the dinner is more than enough for me—"

"Just open it," you urged, gesturing for him to go ahead with a quick, impatient motion from where you stood beside him.

A surprised chuckle escaped him as he raised his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay! Sorry." His fingers fumbled with the red ribbon, unwinding it carefully as he slowly lifted the lid. You kept your eyes fixed on his face, anxiously watching for his reaction as he peered inside.

Inside was a tiny onesie with Baby Reid printed in delicate cursive, accompanied by an ultrasound photo and the three positive tests you’d taken (because you hadn’t quite believed the first one).

Spencer stared down at the items in complete shock, his mouth opening and closing for a moment before he glanced up at you. "W-we're having a baby?" His voice trembled, his eyes welling with tears at the realization.

For more than a year, you and Spencer had been trying to conceive, with him meticulously tracking your cycle and researching every possible method to increase your chances. But each time, you were met with heartache and disappointment, tossing negative test after negative test into the trash. Eventually, you both resigned yourselves to the reality that, as much as you longed for a baby of your own, it might not be in the cards.

You’d never been happier to be wrong in your life.

Nodding your head, tears began to well in your own eyes as you flashed him a watery smile. "We're having a baby, Spence."

Before you could even process what was happening, he was up and kneeling in front of you, his hands gently cradling your stomach as tears began to fall. A choked laugh escaped him as he looked up at you, eyes wide with awe. "We're having a baby," he whispered again, pressing a tender kiss to your stomach despite the barely-there bump—just over eight weeks along.

The sight made your heart swell, one hand instinctively wiping away his tears, even as your own continued to fall. The other hand rested gently beside his on your stomach. And as you watched your husband speak softly to your unborn baby, you couldn’t help but feel that everything you’d ever wanted was finally right there, just beneath your fingertips.

Continued A/N's: AHHH this got posted a little later than intended because I kept coming back to edit HAHA but I truly hope you guys enjoyed this as much as I did. I truly believe that man deserved a happy ending with baby geniuses of his own and this is my way of coping :') BUTTTT thank you so much for reading and Happy Valentine's Day again <3

REMINDER: I do NOT give permission for my work to be re-uploaded to any other platforms (c.ai, TikTok, ao3, etc.) under any circumstances. If you'd like to translate my work, then please ask me before doing so. I know it sounds whiny, but I (as well as many other fanfic writers) spend so much time on these and it's genuinely not okay to take credit for work that isn't yours. It's insulting and completely unnecessary. If I do see my work uploaded anywhere without explicit permission, I WILL say something.

[tourturestarradio]

Helloooo!! I hope you’re doing alright :3

‼️‼️‼️SPOILER FOR DEADPOOL 3‼️‼️‼️

Can I request a crack fic? With either male or gender neutral reader, with Logan and Wade, in that car fight scene?

Like, the three of them are in that Honda Odyssey, and when Logan and Wade start fighting, reader just gets so fed up, they’re like: “oh my god can y’all just kiss already? This is painful to watch.” Bc that was me the entire time I was watching that movie😭🙏🏻 You can add anything else you want in there but I would love to see that! I absolutely love how you write so I don’t doubt you could make this just as well as your others!! ☺️💙

𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔

"𝐖𝐞'𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫."

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Prompt: You're sick of Wade's and Logan's BS and for the first time you lose your temper on them.

Pairing: Deadpool/Wade Willson x G/n reader x Wolverine/Logan Howlet

Warnings: Cursing, Spoilers for Deadpool 3

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

You ducked and dodged under both of the mens attacks they had been fighting each other for the past 30 minutes with no breaks. All because Logan couldn't keep the mouth shut. So now you sat bruises, bullet wounds, and cuts covering your body.

"Guys! G..Guys can we please stop fighting...please?" but they both ignored you again, usually you were the calm one to defuse their arguments and they'd relax, before they were back at it again.

You looked between the two your irritation growing stronger by the second.

"Uh...Wade?" he was stabbing into Logan "one moment cupcake." you dodged a stray knife headed your way "Logan?..." he broke Wades arm "not now."

You were willing to just let them fight it out that was the plan until Wade had redirected Logans blades into your leg.

That was your final straw, "Will you two just fuck already?!" you shouted looking at the two "what the fuck are you-" "Logan shut the hell up!" he closed his mouth Wade laughing at him "ha you're in trouble now-" "Wade so help me God I will shove that stupid kitana so far up your ass you're be tasting metal for a god damned month!"

They both hushed surprised by your outburst, your were usually so calm all the time.

"Every time you both are around each other it's like a enemies to lovers trope just waiting to happen! the sexual tension is palpable between you two!" You pulled Wolverines blades out of your leg "you two just can't go five fucking minutes without wanting to rip each other apart, for fucks sake!" you rolled your eyes "by some grace of God I've made it this far with you two assholes without having a brain aneurysm!"

You pulled a baby knife out of your torso pointing to Wade "I mean I get it you both have your differences, you're doing this because you got a girlfriend that barely loves you. Little to no friends who enjoy being around but you care about them and that's what's important right? Right.so you want to do everything in your will power to make sure those people don't die because without them you have nothing to distract from the impending doom you feel in your gut that you're not good enough. But god forbid you ever feel safe or scared so you cover up all your problems by making half funny jokes and witty comebacks. How's that am I in the right ball park?" You faced Logan as Wade pondered on your words.

He opened his mouth to speak but you hushed him quickly "And you, you try to be all big bad and tough but you're not you're a sad lonely man with no family or friends because in your universe they're dead and there's nothing you can do about it. But because you were left alive you carry the guilt of losing the people you cared for the most everyday wishing you could go back and fix things and make them right, but you can't they're gone for good but instead of making something out of your life and trying to start new you decided to go on a murderous rampage. So now you carry that guilt on top of everything else so you drown yourself in those chemicals in a bottle to forget or ignore your problems instead of growing a pair owning up to your mistakes!"

You got out of the car "so in conclusion you both have your reasons for being here, you want to get back the things you love most, but you two fuck faces are too idiotic to realize how much you have in common so you ignore the good character writing and argue and fight every other scene! I mean come on how much more gay could you two get!" You huffed finally letting that off your chest and turning to walk away "now i'm going to leave for an hour to blow off some steam and you both have two ultimatums you either A : take those sweaty suits off and have the best hate sex of your lives or B: shut the fuck up! Grow some balls! and get it the fuck together!" you stormed away both Logan and Wade too stunned to say anything.

.

.

.

"That was pretty hot, i've never seen them so angry."

Safe to say they made up for now and continued on with the rest of the movie.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

A/n: sorry this was so short!!!!! hope you enjoyed!

[totaly-obsessed]

Could you write for leah but reader is her little sister and she's been like misbehaving at school so her mum asks her to talk to her as of she's being like bullied or something to get reader to admit it.

(Sorry I miss spelled something the first time and didn't realise I took the name out when I was fixing the mistakes)

Big Shoes to fill

Leah Willamson x reader fic

pt.2 here

-> Reader, Leah's younger sister is having trouble in school - mysteries get solved.

-> Talk of bullying, homophobia, (maybe child neglect?)

-> @ anon, I hope you like it - a little bit angstier than most of my stuff

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Amanda and David Williamson had had enough. Since school started again, they have received nothing but bad news from their youngest daughter’s school – your school. At first, it was just forgotten homework, until you missed attendance a couple of times – then they made sure, that you did in fact go to school and classes. But after getting better, it got worse again – you had started to misbehave more and more, talking back to your teachers and being constantly rude to everyone around you.

It was stressful. Of course, you didn’t change your behavior overnight, and you didn’t change because you were bored – but nobody seemed to care. Leah had moved to central London a couple of years ago and your older brother Jacob moved to Australia – leaving you all alone in your parent's home.

They weren’t bad people or bad parents, but they were busy. Work. All day, every day. Both of them had already been older when they had you – Leah already eleven, and Jacob seven when she was ‘blessed’ with a younger sister.

The footballer loved to tell you how your first meeting went, boasting to everybody that you wouldn’t stop crying until she held you for the first time, falling asleep in her skinny, little arms. It was her favorite picture of you as a baby, even to this day.

When your principal called Amanda at work for the third time that week, she was done trying. Instead of picking you up, she told the man on the other side of the phone to let you walk home – no matter how much you whined. To his surprise you did not even complain, taking your bag and walking out the door – dull, tired eyes and an empty smile on your face. You finally did it. Maybe you never had to go back. Maybe they finally gave up on you.

Once you had arrived home you were drenched by the London rain, shivering as you made your way through an empty house, taking a shower before you started cleaning up your muddy footsteps. Everything was normal until no one came home. Usually, your mom would get home at five and your day by eight – but now it was already nine and no one was answering your texts.

The lock of the front door ruckled, and after a few tries, it was finally flung open. Like in a bad horror movie a silhouette was shown by lighting in the background – but after a deafening silence aside from the falling rain, Leah stepped inside. Her hair kept back in a beanie and a bag of take-out food in her hand – “I’m homeee!”

You took the food into the kitchen before handing her towels and dry clothes, leaving her to get changed. “You, my love, are the best sister, ever!” By now you had plated the food and set up on the couch, two glasses, and a bottle of wine. “I’m your only sister, Lee.” Her blue eyes softened at your weak voice. “I knowww, but you’re always so good to me.” She pulled you into a tight hug, almost afraid to let you go.

You handed her one of the plates, two slices of Pizza on it – your joined favorite – as she eyes the glasses. “Aren’t you a little too young to drink, Missy?” A sheepish smile was the only response that she got, and it was enough. Leah could see that something was up.

Usually, you had time to prepare when she visited, knowing of it beforehand – but today was different, she just showed up. You didn’t have time to hide the bags beneath your eyes, or do your hair in a way that didn’t look completely life-less – and she noticed. Of course, Leah noticed. She would always notice.

You ate dinner in silence for a while, just happy to be in each other's presence, having missed that feeling once Leah had moved out and you had gotten older. But when both plates were clean, Leah literally licking the crumbs off them, you couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m guessing you’re the one I have to thank for Mum and Dad being somewhere else?”

Your older sister swallowed hard, knowing that you would ask, but she had still hoped that she could gently lead you into the conversation. “Yeah, they’re at my place.” Leah’s place was a stunning apartment closer to the Arsenal training facility. As gently as she could, she took your hands into hers, immediately noticing how cold they were. 

“They told me that you’ve been havin’ trouble in school. What’s goin on Bug?” You hated that look. Leah’s eyes clouded with worry terrified you. She really did care, and while that was nice to know, it also meant, that you would hurt her, no matter what.

“Mom doesn’t know what to do anymore, and Dad- he, well he doesn’t either.” Of course, you knew that. Your mother's tired eyes nearly mirrored your own. But you couldn’t tell them. They wouldn’t understand.

The silence was deafening, and your older sister tried to be subtle with her concerned staring. Sadly for both of you, Leah’s subtle was like an elephant in a fine China store. She really did try not to coax anything out of you, wanting you to feel safe enough to open up.

“School’s just not my thing.”

Both of you knew that you were lying – you loved learning new things and while school might not have the right topics for you, it was better than dying dumb.

The Arsenal player’s eyebrow was intimidating enough for you to just give up. You were tired of fighting your feelings, hurting yourself and everybody else.

“Why are you so rude to the people in your class?” She really was serious, there was no backing out now. “They are not nice people.” Her gaze hardened, her suspicions forming even further. “Why don't you like them?”

But she was met with silence. While you wanted to let her know, that those kids were mean ones, you didn’t want to tell her why they were so mean to you. It would break your sister's heart.

“Okay, what about your football team? Do you have any friends there?” Every time your eyes wandered up from staring at your joined hands to meet Leah’s, they snapped back down. The look in her eyes was terrifying. She seemed scared.

And it was all your fault.

“Oh, I stopped playing football.” Your parents hadn’t even noticed. You washed your own laundry, so when at some point your sweaty training clothes stopped showing up, no one noticed. The only one who did was your trainer – she was now missing one of the most known last names in English women’s football in her team.

You didn’t need to look at your sister to know that she was shocked, her stunned silence doing all the talking. “W-What to do you mean – You quit? But you love football!” You did. You loved watching Leah and her teammates play football, there was so much passion on the field, silent understanding, and mastered routines when they played. “Just drop it, Leah.”

Realization set in for the England captain – you were growing up. Gone was her little sister, who would do anything to be like her. The little sister who worshipped the ground she walked on.

“Why did you quit then? Mom didn’t tell me about it. Why didn’t you call?” You had downed the contents of your wine glass, stealing Leah’s as well. It scared her, just how tired you looked. “Didn’t want to interrupt your day, you’re a busy woman now. Mom always says that.” You took a deep breath, before making air quotes “Leah has more important stuff to do now, honey. Don’t call her, what if she is in an interview?”

The silence was suffocating. It never used to be like this, at least not that Leah remembered. “You would have never interrupted. I will always make time for you, Bug.” As much as you wanted to believe that, you couldn’t. No one made time for you. Not even your mom and dad, who used to do so many exciting things with all their kids in the house. But it was different now. With Leah and Jacob gone.

“A phone works both ways, Leah.”

The footballer was stunned. You were right. She was complaining to your mum, on and on, about how she didn’t know what was happening in your life – but she herself made no effort to change that.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Her confession and apology meant everything to you – even if you feared, that they were empty.

The wine bottle was now empty, and Leah still sober – but that was her plan, and it was working a charm, as your slightly slurred words started to pour out.

“I am so proud of you. You know?” A deep sniffle filled the brief silence “Winning the home European Championship, leading the team to the win, playing every game.” Your eyes were staring into space, as your sisters’ hands tried to warm yours, scared of how hollow you looked and felt. “But it’s not easy living up to that, you know?”

You once again grabbed the glass, disappointed when it was empty. But you didn’t get up to get more. “All everyone said when we went back to school, was how I would never be as good as you.” Tears threatened to fall from Leah’s eyes as things started to make sense. “That’s not true, y-“ but you didn’t let her finish her desperate try to change your mind. “It is true, Leah. I will never be as good as you – because I don’t really like football that much. Your passion and love for it, made you work harder to get where you are right now. I just played so that Jacob and you had something to talk to me about.”

Your whole life you had been pretending to love the game just as much as your siblings did – and when Leah thought back on it, she started to see it. You never had a team you supported, but it was always the one she had played for, or preferred. Not a single well-known footballer came to your mind when you were asked. The only answer you would give? ‘My sister, Leah. She is my favorite footballer of all time.’

“People had never been the kindest to me. I mean I could handle it when they just made fun of me for defending you. But after the win, all of a sudden everyone loved you, and then I was the one they were hurling insults at.” Tears made their way down the blonde's face, leaving a salty taste on her lips. “What did you need to defend me from?”

She knew it was bad the moment that your hands let go of hers. Seeking space. “Well, people knew. They knew about you and Jordan.” Sobs started to wreck her body as you desperately tried to soothe her by rubbing her back.

People were insulting her for being gay, and you stood up for her, making yourself the target.

“Bug, I- I don’t know what to say…”

The tipsyness started to make way for your guilt. She wasn’t supposed to know. You knew that it would break her heart, knowing what was happening at school.

“I hoped, that if I acted cold enough, people would leave me alone. But they didn’t. I tried to tell Mum that I wanted to change schools, but she was busy.” Now she understood. You tried to get yourself kicked out of school so that your parents had no choice but to notice and send you to a new one, where you could start over.

“I am so sorry. You shouldn’t have to go through that.” Your gaze finally met hers, gone was her baby sister. The teen in front of her was much too mature for her age, needing to wise up after being left all alone in the world.

“I know Lee.”

My god. What had she done? Leah Williamson was sure if there was an award for being the worst sister – she would have surely won it.

[typicalopposite]

wip wednesday <3

so I have been tagged by quite a few people (thank you all 🫶 @desert--moonchild @bidisasterevankinard @onthewaytosomewhere @lavenderleahy -- got bamboozled by @sunnywithachanceofbi -- @judymarch15 @marvelousbuckley @tailsbeth-writes @cafe-con-letty & @theotherbuckley ... and that's going back a month) over the span of... a time for different things... lol I have not been keeping up with the games I have been tagged in like I use to... its been a messy life! BUT I'm finally catching up by sharing (quite a bit of) not an already established wip... but a new one! you know, now that we are all collectively in our grieving/fix-it era <3 so consider yourselves -- eyes Chrissy -- tagged back!

take me back - tommy amnesia fic

Tommy cracks his eyes open, fully expecting to be met with that damned water stain on his ceiling he keeps meaning to get looked at — when the spot caves in on him he’s going to regret it — but for the past six months his mind has been on… other things. Regardless, this is not the sight he is met with, and he looks up in confusion at the garage ceiling instead. He blinks a few times before realizing that he’s laying on the cold concrete floor. It takes just a moment longer before he is overcome by a splitting headache and his vision blurs. 

“What the fuck…” he groans, forcing himself to sit up. He reaches for his head, unable to pinpoint where exactly the pain is radiating from; he feels it throughout his entire skull... it’s in his eyes, his temples, all the way down into his neck. He’s not even sure what happened. If he passed out; if he tripped… Why was he even in the garage when he was supposed to be getting ready. The room feels like it’s spinning, and he feels waves of nausea wash over him. He doubts he’ll be able to stand up unassisted, so he crawls over to his workout bench and uses it for support. 

He almost crumples back to the floor from the vertigo he gets from rising to his feet, but he holds tight to the pull bar and takes a few deep breaths until it finally subsides. He opens his eyes again, relieved his vision has cleared, and tries to take a step. His legs are wobbly but he manages to remain stable and upright as he crosses the garage and walks back into his house. 

That’s when he realizes it’s already getting dark. Shit. He was supposed to be getting ready! He goes for his phone but it’s not in his pocket, so he slowly makes his way to his room, except it’s not on the charger either— 

And his bed spread is different… 

His bed spread is—

Tommy squeezes his eyes shut as the headache continues to get worse. “Fuuuck…” he drawls out, once again reaching for his head. He needs to get medicine, to find his phone, and to get out the door or he is going to be late. He can’t be late tonight. Tonight is special.

Another deep breath and he takes another step, towards the bathroom this time. He pulls the medicine cabinet door open, eyes going to the middle shelf where he keeps his ibuprofen… and finds a prescription— two prescriptions actually. He stares at the little orange bottles, both made out to him… one is acetaminophen-- and since he doesn’t have time to figure out why they are there-- he ignores the second and just takes the prescribed dose of the pain medicine and recloses the door. 

All he has to do now is to find his damn phone. 

It’s not in the kitchen, or on the coffee table, or out in his truck, or buried in the couch cushions… The last place he goes is back into the garage; lo and behold it’s there. The problem? It’s shattered. How it got shattered he doesn’t know. Possibly from his fall. 

He tries the side button and the screen lights up. It’s five thirty; he needs to go. He tries to carefully input his passcode: 5724. It doesn’t work. He tries it again. Still nothing. One more time and then another… he assumes the problem is the broken screen, but the phone disables for one minute and he doesn't have time to keep trying. Oh well, he can just leave now, and be there a little early. It’s not like it actually matters if he’s early, anyway. 

He goes back into the bathroom, looks at himself in the mirror— reels at the images looking back because, damn. His eyes are bloodshot with dark circles and his face is puffy and drained of all color as if he’s been crying. Has he been crying? He pushes the thought aside and takes out his eye drops, dropping a couple into each eye and wincing from the pain tilting his head back causes. The medicine will kick in soon, the headache will subside. He will be early… but when is extra time with his boyfriend a bad thing?

*

He parks and climbs out of his truck, the remnants of his headache finally starting to fade away. He takes the stairs two at a time once he’s inside the building, getting that giddy little pep in his step he always gets the moment he reaches Evan’s floor. He strides down the hallway, feeling light on his feet— like he’s floating on air. He reaches the door, lifts his hand and raps against the wood… once, twice, and three times. 

There’s a quiet commotion from inside, accompanied by the sounds of voices— plural, so someone else is here. Tommy tries to think about whether Evan said he had any plans prior to their date… he can’t remember. It doesn’t matter. He bounces on the balls of his feet, feeling his heart pick up in speed as footsteps get closer to the door. The lock turns, the knob twists and the door opens. 

Tommy can feel the tug of his smile spreading high up onto his cheeks. “Hey—”

“Uhm… Hi?” A voice that’s not Evan’s replies— Tommy stares at a face that is not Evan’s… A man he doesn’t recognize; dressed in comfortable clothes-- practically sleep clothes-- with tousled hair and a sated look that instantly has Tommy feeling some type of way. He tilts his head to see the number on the door, thinking maybe he came to the wrong apartment. He didn’t, and so he’s left thoroughly confused at who this stranger is and why he looks so… comfortable in his boyfriend’s home. “Tommy, right?” The guy continues. He lets his eyes travel over Tommy, like he’s studying him, keeping a careful and friendly enough smile on his face. 

“Wha- uh, I’m… sorry. Do I know you?” 

“Doubt it. But I have heard plenty about you…” The voice is suave; his tone is flat but not necessarily cold. Who the fuck even is—

“Dylan?” That is Evan’s voice… Tommy peers around this guy— around Dylan to see his boyfriend come bopping off the stairs. “Who is it— oh… T- Tommy?!” Evan’s face blanks, and his arms stall just as he was starting to slip them around this— this— Dylan’s waist. Tommy thinks he might actually be sick. Evan looks just as debauched, in his gray sweatpants and no shirt— sweat glistening over his bare chest leaves very little to be imagined of what the two were up to before he knocked. He finally truly looks at Dylan and the shirt is Evan’s… his oversized faded Nirvana band tee. Tommy has had to quickly slip it on when they have been disturbed time and time before. “What are you doing here?” Evan asks.

A sarcastic laugh bubbles its way out of Tommy and he has to take a step back from the door— from them. “W- What am I doing here?” He asks.  “What am I doing here…” he repeats. His face is starting to flush and there are tears filling his eyes no amount of blinking speed would be able to push away. He dares a look back at Evan. Wants to see if he even looks guilty; does he even look sorry? He just looks shocked, and that pisses Tommy off more. “I can't believe this...” he mutters under his breath and turns on his heels, willing his feet to get him out of this nightmare as fast as possible. 

“Tommy?” 

Ignore him. 

“T- Tommy!”

Ignore him. Forget him.

The steps are easier to get down than up; he is practically jumping the whole way down each flight. He should have known… he should have prepared better… he should have never given him that second chance… Tommy knew this thing with Evan was only going to be temporary— Evan was figuring himself out, and Tommy was more than willing to be the kind, caring, and supportive hand through the journey. But Tommy knew one day he would reach the end, he wouldn’t need the security of Tommy anymore, and Tommy was prepared to bow out gracefully. He just thought they had more time. 

But this…

This hurts so much more than he had anticipated that that would. 

“Tommy…” 

A hand grabs his shoulder and he realizes he has stopped just outside the apartment building. The cool night air is drying out the tears that have already streaked down his face. His chest feels like it’s caving in… and great, his headache is back. He shrugs Evan’s hand off of him, and starts moving towards his truck again. 

“What— Dammit Tommy! Are you seriously going to be this stubborn right now…”

That stops him. He turns and glares at Evan, taking a step towards him with seemingly enough fury Evan stops in his tracks, keeping distance between them. “Stubborn…?” Tommy chokes out. “Are you really calling me stubborn right now?”

“I- I mean… yeah! That’s how you’re acting right now!” Evan crosses his arms, having the audacity to appear angry. “You come to my apartment, had a stare down with my boyfriend, then just stormed off with no explanation!” 

Tommy feels his heart sink— hell it does more than that… it falls all the way to the floor and shatters. “B- Boyfriend…” he repeats. This has to be some kind of a prank. It has to be. “How can you stand there and look so calm about this… You—” You asshole… You lying, manipulative— “Cheater…” 

The look on Evan’s face at that word almost— not fully, but almost— surprises Tommy. So stunned; his eyes bouncing around from Tommy’s, to the ground, to the cars around them, up to the sky… before finally coming back to Tommy’s. “Ch- Cheater? Tommy.. wh- what are you talking about.” Tommy huffs out another sarcastic laugh and turns to angrily storm the rest of the way to his truck, all the while knowing Evan isn’t going to just let him. Maybe there’s even a part of him hoping Evan stops him with a viable explanation, because this… this can't be how it ends— this is going to do more than just crush him… it’s going to annihilate him. “Oh my god…” Evan groans and as Tommy suspected he would, starts after him again. “Tommy! Can you please— just this once— stop running and talk to me?” 

“Talk about what, Evan…” Tommy all but screams and, oddly enough, that seems to stop Evan in his tracks. “What do you want me to say? That I should have seen this coming… That I should have known it was too good to be true. Or maybe admit that I always knew I wouldn't be your forever, no matter how bad I wanted to be… but I sure as hell didn’t see this—” he gestures frantically at Evan then up at the apartment building. “—being how it ended.” The more he let the words spill out, the more confused Evan looked. “Or should I just come out and address the elephant in the room— the man up in your apartment you’re cheating on your boyfriend with.” 

Evan’s brows pull together, hardening his stare into something Tommy has never been on the receiving end of; it hurts to see, instead of angering him like it probably should. “I don’t know if you’re drunk… or if this is some kind of joke… but it’s not funny— it’s not fair! You— You don’t get to barge back into my life unannounced— today of all days. Then— then you accuse me of— That man up in my apartment is my boyfriend, Tommy… he has been for eight months now.” 

Tommy feels like a bomb was shoved down his throat and detonated. His entire body trembles and goes through after shocks of what Evan said. Partially from the unexpected sting of jealousy at the thought of someone being with Evan longer than he has… but mostly because of the absurdity of it all; does Evan really expect him to buy into the nonsense he’s spewing; claiming he has been in this other relationship for this long— and on their anniversary. Except Evan looks serious. 

Tommy tries to find his voice; he tries to string some words together in his head to say something back. ���W- What?” is all he manages to come up with; his voice betrays him, coming out small and broken. 

Evan steps closer to him, cracks clearly forming in the cold and serious look he was just giving Tommy, making way for looks of concern, or confusion… or maybe even of sadness. “Tommy,” he says the name for the upteenth time, and Tommy feels himself flinching at his own name like it assaulted him. “Are you— Are you okay? What’s going on? Why— why are you here?” He steps closer, Tommy steps back. 

Just like that the medicine’s effect dissipates and his headache comes rushing back with a vengeance. Tommy’s vision blurs and he gasps at the return of the pain, now with a spot to single the bulk of it to. He brings his hand up to the back of his head, fingers instantly touching something wet. 

“Will you stop— dammit Tommy, stop running away from me,” Evan continues, almost in front of him now, although his voice sounds muffled and far away. Tommy stops backing up and lets his hand fall down from his head, revealing bright red blood coating his fingers. “Oh my god…” Evan gasps just as a wave of dizziness sways Tommy backwards. Two strong arms grab him, steady him… but don’t exactly hold him, and that hurts as bad as this headache. Evan is so close Tommy wouldn’t have to lean in far to capture his lips… but he can’t. Not like this. Not while everything feels so off and confusing. 

He allows Evan to help him over to his truck, but shies away from his touch the moment he is able to lean on its bed for stability. Evan pulls out his phone and dials 9-1-1. “What are you doing?” Tommy asks when his jaw is grabbed, gently but firmly, and Evan is guiding him to turn his head. He is ignored as Evan talks to the dispatcher, giving the location and a short gist of what happened, before he stops talking abruptly.

“T- Tommy… were— were you in an accident?” 

Tommy can’t help the sarcasm heavy laugh at the ridiculous question. “Don’t you think you would know if I had been,” he says coolly. 

Evan sighs. “He has a pretty big wound on the back of his head,” he tells the dispatcher, and Tommy stares at him in shock. “There are staples but it’s been reopened.” Tommy feels his skin prickling. He feels this strong sense of unease, like the floors about to fall out from under him. “Hey… look at me,” Evan says, resting his hand on Tommy’s shoulder and looking in his eyes, he turns his phone’s flashlight on and scans it over each eye. “His pupils are receptive. Do— Do you know what day it is?” 

Of course that’s a logical question but given everything it is like a stab into his already ripped open chest. “It’s… November 7.” 

“Okay, good. And the year?”

“2024…”

“Okay— wait. Wh- What did you say?” Once again Evan is staring at him confused. “You said it’s 2024?” Tommy breaks his eyes away; Evan is getting that kicked puppy look and he doesn’t get to do that. He doesn’t get to make Tommy feel bad right now. “Tommy…” Evan pries. “You— You said 2024?” 

“Yes Evan, yes! It’s November 7, 2024! It’s our six month anniversary! But I guess that means nothing to—” His voice cracks. He covers his trembling lip with the back of his hand and tries to calm himself down. 

Sirens break through the deafening silence, and an Ambulance turns into the parking lot. Evan flags it over and it comes to a stop behind Tommy’s truck. Thankfully it’s not the 118, and Tommy doesn’t recognize the paramedics that get out to help him. They check over the apparent wound on the back of his head, and start asking him questions. Questions he mostly ignores because he is focused on Evan talking to the one of them off to the side. “He— he thinks it’s 2024…” he whispers but Tommy catches it anyway. 

“What do you mean ‘I think’,” he asks past the mountain of questions the paramedic accessing him is still piling on. Evan’s mouth clamps shut and he looks over at Tommy. “You said I think it’s 2024… what the hell does that mean Evan.” 

“I- I don’t— uhm…” Evan looks helplessly at the paramedics, avoiding looking at Tommy. 

“Sir, please, just calm down. Take a deep breath. We can get everything figured out at the hospital.”

“To hell with that,” Tommy snaps— which surprises even himself, because he is usually compliant with first responders, being that he is one. “I want everything figured out now. What do you mean?” 

“Tommy…” Evan begins, takes a deep breath and sighs it out. “It’s 2025.” 

“What?”

“It— It’s 2025,” Evan reiterates.

~~~~~~~~

Sooooo 😀 trying to actually get this fix rolling because I am not going to post the whole first chapter until it’s done! Fingers crossed I don’t lose inspiration before then 🤞🏼🤞🏼🤞🏼

Throwing out a couple more tags just incase you wanna share something fixing this mess thrown on our poor sad boys or just to heal yourself, or something entirely new! 🫶

@nine-one-wanton @herrmannhalsteadproduction @30somethingautisticteacher @bangpop91 @racerchix21 @rdng1230

@somethingaboutfirefly @kinardsevan @bucksxkinard @unhingedangstaddict and anyone else who wants to share their stuff or just follow along 🫶

[libraryofneith]

Hiding Place (Frankie Morales x GN! Reader)

Summary: a reunion between you and the guys goes south when you have a panic attack, but your friend Frankie is there for you

Tags: frankie morales x gender neutral! reader, platonic relationship between frankie and reader but it could be read romantically, hurt/comfort, fluff, wholesome

Warnings: PTSD, panic attacks, bullet wounds, very mild cussing

This was written for @punkshort AU August Writing Challenge! Thanks for this prompt, it was so much fun! Be sure to check out my joel miller x reader fic Out of Mind.

A champagne cork.

Or rather, a sparkling cider cork.

That was what started it.

It had flown off the bottle with a pop and gone whizzing past your ear as you were cleaning dishes. You'd tried to laugh it off with the others. It was just a stupid accident. Everyone was there to celebrate Benny winning one of the biggest fights of his life and you weren't going to spoil everything with another one of your stupid panic attacks. But the pop and the feeling of the cork flying past you had made time stand still.

Suddenly you weren't in Will's kitchen anymore; you were in a trench, a rifle in your hands, trying to find a fix on your target as bullets fired around you. Your hand went to your shoulder as if it had a mind of its own, grazing over the point where a bullet had shot through five years ago. It was throbbing as if it had only been five minutes ago. You could hear a voice far off. It sounded like it was a million miles away, barely getting through over the pounding in your ears.

"You ok?" You jumped. Frankie was standing beside you looking concerned. When did he get here?

"Yeah, fine. Just gotta take a leak." You pushed past him into the hallway, completely blundering past the bathroom.

Fuck fuck. Where were you? What were you doing? Your chest felt like it was tying itself in knots. You couldn't breathe. You blindly grasped a door handle and stumbled into what you realised too late was Willy's bedroom. As if the flashbacks weren't bad enough now you had to deal with the anxiety of going into someone's room without their permission. But you couldn't deal with that now. Alone, desperate and completely out of breath, you did the only thing you knew you make you feel better.

---

Frankie closed the bathroom door. Nope, not in there. There were three other doors on that floor - one opened to a study, one to a cupboard, and the third a bedroom. It seemed empty but he had this strange feeling of being watched, like someone else was waiting to exhale.

"Hello?" No answer. "You in here?"

"Down here." The voice came from underneath the bed.

"You ok?"

"Yeah."

"Is that why you're under a bed?"

"I… I just… It was just too much."

"Ok, I get it." He paused. He didn't want to intrude but he didn't feel he could leave it like that. "You want some company?" There was a lengthy silence before you replied: "Alright."

He shuffled while you scooched until you were lying side by side staring up at the graying mattress poking through the timber slides. It was a while before he plucked up the courage to break the silence.

"This takes me back."

You snorted. Depressing as it was, you'd spent more than one occasion huddled in a bunker or trench together avoiding bullets, drones or bombs.

"Everyone Ok out there?"

"They're fine, just worried about you." You groaned.

"Now I feel bad, I didn't want to make a whole thing out of it."

"No one holds it against you, we all have… stuff." Stuff. That was one way to put it. You started absentmindedly rubbing the bullet hole on your shoulder again.

"Still hurt?" Your hand flew back to your side.

"Sometimes, when I have these… episodes. Therapist tells me it's not actually the wound, just the trauma."

"Is there a difference?" You shrugged then winced. It was weird, sometimes you hardly felt it, sometimes - like today - it felt so painful you could hardly think straight.

"I'm sorry I haven't been there for you."

"It's OK, you had your own stuff to deal with."

"By stuff, you mean a pile of snow?" You weren't looking at him but you could still hear the self-loathing in his voice.

"Christ Frankie you know I don't blame you for that. After I got shot, I couldn't sleep without polishing off a bottle of whisky."

"You had a good reason."

"And you didn't?" you said, turning to look at him. It was dark under that bed but you could see those big brown eyes filled with regret.

"Not the same." Maybe not but Frankie still had wounds that couldn't be seen on his body. "I know after I just… disappeared."

"You were there when it mattered." You meant that in more ways than one. He'd been the one who dragged you back to his chopper, you screaming with every inch, him muttering "you're gonna make it, you're gonna make it" over and over. After, Pope told you he'd flown like a bat outta hell while you drifted in and out of consciousness. Everyone agreed that if anyone else had been the pilot on that mission, you'd have bled out before you got back to base. Not that it made a difference to Frankie. Something had changed in him after that. Then came the suspension for drug abuse and after that you both felt like animals used up then put out to pasture.

Your hand found his in the dark. He glanced down in surprise. You had always been close, the others always called him your work husband, only partly joking, and there had been times when it felt as though there was… something, like a line neither of you were daring to cross. But that had been a long time ago. You had lost touch after you came home and now he had a wife and a baby on the way and you had… your therapist? You didn't mind, honestly. Just, right now you needed him, his presence, his touch. Neither of you made any other movement. You just lay there under the bed, side by side, fingers interlocking.

"Hey if you assholes are fucking you can use someone else's goddamn bedroom" Will called out, having finally found you both.

"Fuck you William" you responded.

"What're you doing under the bed?"

"Hiding from you" Frankie replied. "Now piss off."

"Fine, not like it's my fucking house or anything." He slinked off muttering.

"We should probably head back out there." You started to crawl out but you were stopped by Frankie's hand on your shoulder.

"Can we… can we not?" You gave him a long look, then nestled back in next to him.

"Ok, whenever you're ready."

"What if I'm never ready?"

"You bring a book?" You both snorted. "But seriously, we can't stay here forever. You least of all, you have a life."

"And you don't?" You resisted the urge to face him.

"Honestly, not really. Maybe I should get one." Frankie didn't seem to have any response to that, so you lay next to each other in silence, counting the boards on the mattress frame. Finally, you asked, "do you think it's gonna be a boy or girl."

"No clue. We wanted to be surprised." At length, he added "hope it's a girl."

"Why?"

"Less chance it'll turn out like me."

"Would that be so bad?"

"You tell me." You found his hand and squeezed.

"I hope it's like you. World needs more Catfish Moraleses." His expression was inscrutable, until his voice finally husked out with all the fear, heartbreak and salvation of the past years,

"I really fucking missed you."

[xtarmanderx]

I don’t ever post things like this here because this is primarily my writing side blog, but it feels too important not to say something.

I started writing 9-1-1 fics for the Buddie fandom and for a friend who was near and dear to me. I quickly left the fandom because of the mods for an event that I was participating in and how awful they were to one of my best friends that joined the event with me. That completely killed my desire to interact with the Buddie fandom at all and I don’t know if I will ever finish posting the fic that I poured my heart into for said event. Because that fic is fully done, but those encounters with those fans made me never want to write Buddie again.

And then Tommy Kinard came along.

And holy fuck, I fell in love with him so fast. I immediately rewatched the show after he reappeared in season 7 because I was so fascinated with his character. And then I fell in love with Lou Ferrigno Jr. and began watching S.W.A.T. just to get glimpses of him and I grew to love that show and its characters, too. And I read his interviews and saw how happy he was to be back on the show and it made me happy, too.

Then I saw all the hate and negativity.

It filled me with so much anger and I blocked so many people across so many different forms of social media so I no longer had to see it. All I wanted was to surround myself with positivity.

Because I’ve been that bitch.

There are people no longer in certain fandoms because of me and I’ll never be able to apologize enough for the ways that I hurt them. Sorry will never be enough to mend those bridges that I poured kerosene on.

It’s why I’ve stayed in my corner and all of my fic comments have been generic, which isn’t who I used to be. I used to engage and leave long comments, but honestly I’ve been terrified to try and join any new community. Because I am fucking terrified of reverting back to the person I never want to be again.

My best friend started watching the show again after I went to his house for dinner and had him watch the BuckTommy kiss episode with me. The last five minutes of that episode, I told him to put his phone down and pay full attention and he was completely engaged and was so happy to see another queer couple onscreen. It gave us something else to bond over every week as we would watch and text about what was happening.

Tonight’s text:

This coming from a gay man who does not engage in fandom spaces at all and who felt blindsided, too. Like so many of us did.

I immediately started writing a fix it fic because that’s who I am. I want to write the endings I want to see. And then I stopped writing and sent Lou a message directly because I needed to get something off my chest.

I was raised in a broken home. Raised by racists who belittled me endlessly and have told me within the last couple of years that I am their least favorite child. I am the youngest of 6. That shit was heartbreaking. It’s a wound that will never heal. But why am I bringing it up? Why does that matter?

Because I saw myself in Tommy. I saw a character who represented the worst parts of my youth, who spouted hateful things my parents taught me to say and then spent years having to unlearn those things. Lou talked about his own ideas about Tommy’s past and it struck so close to home for me. Because Tommy showed he was capable of change. And I did, too. It took therapy and years of reflection and being hyperaware now of the shit I say and having to constantly stay on top of my own thoughts and correct them.

I have been dating a woman of color for the last 9.5 years and she’s the love of my life. She has been there through every stumble and stayed even when my passive aggressive inclinations got the better of me. And I saw so much of myself reflected in Tommy Kinard’s character and Lou’s portrayal of him and saw our relationship in Buck and Tommy, too.

Tonight hit me so much harder than expected. And this probably seems like a jumbled mess of thoughts, which it is, but I needed to get some things off my chest and out into the world.

This is not the week that so many of us were expecting. This hurt. We’re allowed to be upset and need time to process. I sure as hell do.

But I do want to say a heartfelt thank you to anyone who has brought joy and friendship to this fandom. The fics that have been written are amazing and the art has been fantastic. I’ve seen some people make lifelong friends in the past few months thanks to this. It sure as hell strengthened some of mine.

So, if you need a friend right now, know that I’m here. I’ve been subdued for a while, but I refuse to lose out on more joy in my life. Not when we all desperately need it. So I’m here for you.

And please remember to be kind. Don’t let anyone take that superpower away from you.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Based on your last post- how would you handle a villain Adrien arc? Would it be from the get-go, or would you have him change sides somewhere along the line? Would it be of his own choice and motivations, or would he be coerced into it? (Or some mix of the two where he disagrees with the method his father does things but goes along because he has the same motive, his mom?)

(Post in question)

Villain Adrien is an incredibly hard sell for me. I can only think of one fic that felt reasonably in character and I think it only worked because it starts after Gabriel's defeat, so you don't have to actually see Adrien being evil. Anything that actually tries to show Adrien willingly hurting others just doesn't work. It doesn't feel like Adrien. Lashing out in the moment might* fit him, but prolonged villainy? Nope. You'd have to take his character through a damnation arc to make it fit. While canon has set him up for one, I don't particularly want to see that. Canon Adrien has suffered enough.

So why would I suggest villain Adrien as a solution?

I have actually spent a good deal of time trying to figure out how to make Adrien work as a villain because it's a semi-popular premise and I enjoy a writing challenge. After a lot of thought, I have a solution that I think would work. I will probably never write this fic, but the basic ideas are simple enough that I can explain the first act and why I think it would work as a way to take Miraculous beyond the Gabriel conflict.

The story would start in much the same way we already see in Origins. Gabriel activates the butterfly, leading to Fu choosing Marinette and Adrien. The big difference is that, this time around, Gabriel and Emilie tell Adrien almost everything. Adrien knows that his mother is in a coma, that the miraculous exist, and that a wish can fix everything. He just doesn't know that the wish has a downside because Gabriel didn't share that little detail. So, when Adrien gets his miraculous, he sees this as a way to fix everything. Just like in canon, he doesn't let Plagg explain everything. Instead, Adrien immediately transforms and seeks out his partner only, this time, he tries to get her earrings off of her. She knows that's a bad thing and runs away, leaving him confused. He goes to his father who is able to get his hands on the ring long enough to command Plagg's silence about the wish's downsides, ensuring Adrien is kept in the dark.

This leads to a short arc where Gabriel uses akumas to draw Ladybug out so her and Chat Noir can "talk" or something along those lines, but it doesn't go well and Adrien isn't okay with attacking the city. It isn't long before he switches sides and Gabriel is defeated, but the damage is done re Ladynoir. Marinette gets to do her "Adrien is evil" first impression, but while it's still a misunderstanding, it's not a minor one that can be solved with an umbrella in the rain. Fu is much more understanding and forgiving, so he doesn't take the black cat back, leading into a wider story where Adrien and Marinette have to fight a new evil while Marinette struggles to see past her first impression. So it's not so much evil Adrien so much as misguided and manipulated Adrien who has to win his Lady's trust and prove that he really is a hero while also working through his own guilt about everything that happened with his father.

*Quick note: canon has Adrien lash out in anger, so I can't say it's wrong to write him like that, but I think it's a massive misstep writing wise. The black cat's power set needs to be in the hands of someone who doesn't lash out in anger. Harsh words, sure, but cataclysms? Hard no. Season five made Adrien come across as totally unsuited to his powers.

[99hook]

Bestie you should write sneaky links to lover fic when you have the chances no rush like they have mutual friends like the lads (they are friends) and no one knows they hook up 👀👀

sneaky link to lovers is a new one, i like it. hope you love it babesss! 🫶🏼

It wasn’t necessarily the fact that you had to keep each other on the low, it was just so much easier that way. When nobody suspects a thing, then there’s nobody in your business.

On top of that, you and Tyler both liked having a secret that everyone was oblivious to. It made things a little more exciting than they already were, simply because of the lengths you both had to go to make sure things stay under lock and key.

That usually meant sneaking into each other’s hotel rooms late at night and sneaking back out before anyone has the chance to wake up and catch him or you leaving around five in the morning.

If you both disappear randomly for a while and get asked about it later, you always have an excuse ready. His is that he had an important call to make and yours is that one of your friends needed to talk to you about something.

It was kind of astonishing that you’ve gotten away with it for this long, but it was evident that your friends were starting to get a little suspicious.

You walked out of Tyler’s dressing room after you recollected yourself. Your hair was a mess but you thought you fixed it enough.

Anthony was rounding the corner just as you closed the door behind you, stopping in his tracks when he caught you. You felt your cheeks burning, sure that they were definitely fusing red but you tried to force it back before he picked up on it.

“Hey” He says rather slowly, the skepticism clear as day in his tone.

“Hey” You tried to sound as casual as possible, even though you were still a little out of breath from what went down only minutes prior.

He eyed you as you stepped away from the door. Your cheeks being bright red and hair not as tamed as it usually was. Not to mention the splotchy redness on the side of your neck that your hair wasn’t covering as well as you thought.

A slight smirk formed on his lips and before you were able to conjure up something to say, the door opened and Tyler stepped out with his hair wilder than usual and flushed cheeks to match.

His eyes locked on Anthony immediately but he was way too good at being cool about the whole thing. He nodded towards his friend as he closed the door behind him.

“What’s up?” He casually asks like he wasn’t a number one suspect in Anthony’s newfound suspicion.

“Just coming to see if you’re ready to go.” Anthony says, eyeing you after. “What uh… What have you two been up to?”

Tyler knew that he was insinuating something but he didn’t let that phase him. He shrugged coolly and looked over at you before looking back at him.

“Chillin” he says before he starts walking down the hall.

Anthony sends you one more look filled with the upmost skepticism you think you’ve ever seen before he heads after Tyler, and you went the complete other direction.

———-

Later on that night, you were both laughing about the whole situation but trying your best to be quiet, cause Anthony’s room was on one side of Tyler’s and Darius was on the other.

“Maybe I should start requesting a room next to yours.” He smirks. “On a completely different floor.”

“That’ll be too obvious” You tell him. “Kinda hilarious how nobody suspects a thing. Except maybe Anthony.”

“He’s definitely onto us.” he says as he absentmindedly runs his fingers through your hair. “Didn’t stop asking me questions all day after we left.”

“Like what?” You perked up, resting your chin on his chest to look up at him.

“All kinds of shit.” He runs his hand through his hair, pushing some back. “The main one being, how long have we been hooking up without anyone knowing.”

“And you said?”

“We’re not hooking up.” He chuckles. “Eventually I convinced him. At least, I think I did.”

“He caught me as soon as I walked out your dressing room today. I didn’t even realize it then, but my shirt was inside out.” You tell him, watching as he tries to stifle a laugh.

“He told me you looked a little… rough.” He smirks. “I told him you just got back from a workout and stopped by to give me my headphones back cause you forgot yours at the hotel.”

“Wow, good lie. I don’t know if I should be worried or not.” you chuckled, feeling his arms tighten around you.

“I don’t lie to you. Just for you.” He says before he places a kiss to your forehead.

“You think he bought it?” You asked, and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Maybe. If not, then I guess I won’t have to worry about keeping you quiet anymore.” He smirks before he pulls you up some, straddling his waist for the second time that night.

“Then we’ll really need a room on a different floor.” You chuckled before you placed a kiss to his lips.

————

“Maybe it’s just me, but Hook and y/n have been acting weird lately.” You both heard Darius’ voice reach you from where you stood a little ways down the hall.

This caught Tyler’s attention, his hands dropping from your hips so he can take his headphones out and hear a little better.

“It’s not just you. I think they got something going on they just don’t wanna tell us.” Anthony says back, and you watch as a smirk tips up on Tyler’s lips when he looks back at you.

“I wouldn’t doubt it.” Another voice chips in, and it takes a moment for it to register that it belongs to Max.

“Where are they now?” Darius asks.

“Probably locked in a room somewhere again.” Anthony chuckles.

“Again? What do you mean again?”

“She was walking out his dressing room the other day. He told me she was just returning some headphones but he was smiling the whole time he said it, so I’m pretty sure he was lying.”

You felt Tyler’s lips brush over your cheek before he headed around the corner, interrupting the conversation but playing it off like he had no idea what they were talking about. You stayed put and listened on, wondering if you should follow his lead or not.

“Hey Tyler.” You heard Anthony’s voice suddenly uplift, and it was kind of hilarious how quickly he shifted.

“Hey” Tyler says back, and it was almost as if you could feel the awkward tension from all the way down the hall.

“You seen y/n around anywhere?” Darius asks.

“Nah not today.” Tyler lies, meanwhile he just had his hands all over you. Another thing that was just hilarious to both of you.

The conversation died right after that. You could imagine the guys standing around awkwardly staring at each other cause they didn’t know what to say, if it didn’t pertain to you and Tyler and how you’d been acting strange lately, you assumed.

It was only seconds after that, that Anthony and Max both excused themselves saying they had to get ready for a match soon, and Darius made the excuse that he had a call to make.

A couple moments after that, Tyler rounded the corner again with a mischievous grin on his face.

“I have an idea.”

————

A couple days passed by, and once it seemed like the guys were no longer onto you and Tyler, that’s when it was time to put his plan into action.

He met up with them first, a scowl on his face like he was having the worst day of his entire life.

“Hey man” Anthony says when he walks up to him. “You good.”

Tyler kept a clenched jaw and didn’t speak back. He tightly nodded before he looked down at the floor, but that was until you walked up from the other direction and immediately stared the man down.

Anthony and Darius both picked up on the weird tensions immediately, their eyes glancing between both of you.

You were surprised by the fact that you weren’t even daring to smile, and Tyler was being pretty convincing himself.

“Uh… What happened?” Anthony asks, feeling like he was quite literally walking on eggshells.

You and Tyler only glared at each other before he was the first to break the eye contact, to look over at Anthony.

“Nothin.” He mutters before he briefly shoots you another piercing glance.

“It doesn’t seem like nothing?” Darius says, and you cross your arms as you kept your eyes trained on Tyler.

“I don’t know. Maybe you should ask him.” You shrugged, and watched as both of their eyes landed on him, waiting for an explanation evidently.

“Ask me what?” He spat, raising his voice at you.

“You know what, Tyler.” You challenged, narrowing your eyes at him, and of course he mirrored you.

“Woah, what the hell happened?” Anthony asks again, this time looking at you because he wasn’t convinced he’d get an answer from Tyler.

“Tyler’s just a fucking dick.” You gritted your teeth. “And I’m pretty sure he knows it.”

“I know there’s a lot of things you are and I’m not wasting my breath calling you any of them.” He crosses his arms, earning three sets of eyes to land on him.

“Go ahead.” You shrugged. “What am I, Tyler? Please tell me.” You took a step towards him for the dramatics of it all and he held himself where he stood, staring down at you with piercing eyes and slightly pursed lips.

“Okay, wait a minute you guys.” Anthony interjects when he feels the tensions rising. “We don’t have to fight like this. Someone just say what happened and we can talk through it. Okay?”

“Nah.” Tyler bitterly says. “Not even worth it bro.”

“Agreed.” You snap back. “I’m wasting my time even talking to you right now.”

Tyler’s head tilted back slightly, and you felt Anthony’s hand on your shoulder as he turned you to face away from the man he thought was making you so angry.

“Anyway” You sighed. “Anthony, Darius, don’t take this personal, but I’d rather be anywhere but here, so i’m gonna go.”

Darius and Anthony both watched you leave and picked up on the glares you and Tyler both shot at each other before you walked away.

It wasn’t too long after that, the door opened up and Tyler walked in with a wide grin plastered on his face.

You bursted into laughter when you saw how proud he looked, but covered your mouth immediately after, knowing plenty of people were wandering around the halls right outside that door.

“Think it worked?” You asked as you stood up and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck.

“For now. Might have to put on a few more shows to really make them believe it.” He says before peppering a couple kisses to your neck, making you forget what you wanted to say.

“Did I ever tell you how hot you are when you’re mad at me?” He mutters against you, and you can feel him smirk right after.

“Mhm, a few times.” You say before he pulls back and looks down at you with that little half smirk you fell for a long time ago.

“Get used to it.” He says before he backs you against the door and locks it.

“Are you saying you’re gonna start trying to make me mad at you?” You quirked a brow, but smiled right after.

“Maybe, but I’ll always make up for it later.”

[melmedarda]

I’m sorry to jump in your inbox with that long af rant, but I’ve been lurking and loving every Meljay post of yours since day one and I need to scream in the void.

I’m inconsolable over how bad the writing of acts 2 and 3 was, it literally feels like it was written by a completely different team. What even was that conversation, it sounded like they asked ChatGPT to write a scene based on top 50 tweets about Mel and Jayce after 1x05 aired back in the days.

I’ve never in 15 years seen a ship so cruelly ruined, because how are people supposed to continue at all tolerating Jayce with that idiotically out of character dialogue in 2x08 between him and Mel? What a fucking bad way to treat fans, having them invested all the way until literally the last moment, it already was bad with how the majority of people (fandom, reactors, obviously the artists too) were “interpreting” Mel (if you can even call it that, cause interpretation requires media literacy), but now they have left us so burnt that I'm betting there aren’t even going to be fix-it fics because they. Just. Ruined. Jayce, so bad. And I still love the well written (still flawed tho!) Jayce from 3x01 (setting up a way more natural conflict-to-be-resolved path when he made those weapons five minutes after Mel vowed to protect his dream), but damn, I love Mel so much more, I really don’t know how to cope with all that. Only people who’ve had the luck to not have been treated as that husk of an AU Jayckass treated our girl can’t see the amount of PTSD that scene can trigger in a woman. I am so frustrated with how the creators treated her trauma and slashed the wounds wide open with both that and “You are the wolf”, I genuinely don’t know how to cope.

And the worst part is all of this could have been resolved with a single touch and him being open to her – like he always have been – just tell her he’s doomed instead of showing us a highly specific and unrelated two frames of the voidy-looking infection on his forearm spreading every time he is on screen. Even if that is one of their “yes we meant that all along we just wanted to show not tell it” like with the whole idiotic Sky/Viktor backstory that Overton “spilled” the other day. Jayce has been able to see through Mel’s shields the moment he saw her painting and was always shown to admire her intellectual prowess, he’d never leave her hanging like that.

If they wanted to write a Shakespearean tragedy so bad they made this intro scream “look at us, we gave you Greek last time, now it’s all about good ol’ Billy” why not have Jayce make the same impossible choice (as they brilliantly and am starting to think accidentally?) made Silco do in 1x09, having him choose between his love for Zaun and his love for Jinx, drawing one final parallel between the two men and closing that loop with Jayce/Silco carrying Viktor’s/Jinx’s body and infusing them with the deus ex machina. It was right there staring them at their faces, have Jayce choose between his love for Mel and his love for his brother.

What a spectacular failure of writing, what an even more monumental failure of the artists to come out with those comments, so now I don’t even want to praise their talent, because they should have kept their mouths fucking shut and stuck to drawing.

Sorry to dump this in your ask, can you tell I’m still reeling.

Please, please, do you have any headcanons, I need crumbs, I need to heal my soul and Mel’s.

Lovely anon you've but into words what all Meljay fans are feeling, I think. I cannot lie, I've been trying to let go of the ship. Withdraw sort of, especially since that was the ending we got. But I've had them for three years, and they've sunk their claws too deeply to me. I'm still thinking of them even now. I'm going to make the most of their divorce era, and I'm going to make them return to each other in ever single AU ever. Because Arcane S2 act #3 is not my Meljay. Also, AU Jayckass had me bursting out in laughter!

On the topic of headcanons. I have one in which when Vik tells Jayce to go back, Jayce does. He returns to Piltover but too much time has past, Mel has already burned his name and departed across the waters to Rokrund. Jayce knows he's done her wrong, realizes he's been blinded, and he does his best to atone in Piltover and Zaun, writing letters to Mel. Letters that go unanswered. And then eventually, he goes to Rokrund, and finds a different woman, one stronger and colder than he had known. He loves her anyways, and spends his years winning her back. And when he has groveled sufficiently, Mel takes him back. He sort of grounds her, so that she does not remain the wolf all the time. So that she does not become her mother.

[quinloki]

quin-uhhh:

would you?!

Fic authors self rec! When you receive this, reply with favorite five fics you've written (include links, and if you want- a few thoughts about each one), then pass on to at least five other writers if you're up for it. Spread the self-love ✨

If you don't, I'll just... I'll just... well I won't do a thing but please?!

many fist pumps,

▲ I'm a symbol now

\o/ Tri, my sweet friend, you are - if anything - a symbol of good cheer =D ♥

Let's see, five favorite fics I've written. That's much easier than trying to pick just one ^_^

Birds of a Feather Marco/Reader ( tumblr / Ao3 / Wattpad ) - This is my most recently completed fic, at least at the time of this post, but I love it so much. My passion for Marco feels like it came out of nowhere and has made itself reigning champion in my thoughts. But a story I expected to be relatively short, ended up almost twice as long as I expected, and it was so easy. It was fun to write, and I think it goes down smooth, despite being nearly 90k words people consistently devour it in a single sitting.

Quicksand Sir Crocodile/Reader ( tumblr / Ao3 / Wattpad ) - Not sure if you're a fan of the sandy crocodile-themed warlord? Tread carefully, reading this title is statistically likely to convert you. Quicksand has an alternative ending because the story was originally intended to be a very dark Yandere - to the point that Doflamingo would've been the "good" guy. That's not how things went, and I'm quite glad for it. Quicksand going its own direction is what helped seal the deal in creating the Tales of the Grandline Metropolis, which is currently 3.8 completed stories. (it'll be at least 8 before it's done).

A Light Touch Eustass Kid/Reader ( Ao3 / Wattpad ) - My first Eustass Kid/Reader story. Set in the same AU as Quicksand, it was started from a pun, of all things. I figured Kid would be fancy tech stuff like neural-linked prosthetics, and the idea that would make a prosthetic for the reader after they lost a hand was something I wanted to write. Creating something like that would take a light touch, and if it glowed, that would be a different kind of light touch and getting close to Kid requires a light-- you get the point. Like I said, it's all based off a pun, but I'm really proud of the story, it's one of my favorite re-reads.

Some Direction Zoro/Reader (tumblr / Ao3 / Wattpad ) - A Modern AU where the government mandates who you marry. I have to give thanks to @lyndsyh24 for not only inspiring me to write this one (start to finish in a single month, I was obsessed!) but also for allowing my to play in the AU she'd built up. From Matchbook to the laws themselves, it's all thanks to Lyn. Zoro started out as one of my favorite characters in the series - I still have love for him, and I'm always happy to write him, but he's taken a bit of a back seat to my top three. Still Some Direction is a story I'm really proud of - even if I worry there'll be a mob after me for who the antagonist is 😅

Family Ties Doflamingo/Reader ( Ao3 / Wattpad ) - I was torn on this last choice - even with five slots it's hard to decide between stories I suppose ^^; Also, oops, apparently I only put the first ten chapters on tumblr... I need to fix that >.> Ahem, anyway, Family Ties is the first fic I wrote after over ten years of not writing at all. It's my first reader insert, my first true multi-chapter too. When I wrote it, it was the longest fic I'd written by nearly 50k words. I wrote it because I wanted a more morally ambiguous reader compared to what I'd been reading. It's not a dark fic though, it's pretty tooth-achingly sweet, honestly, but it's currently the only fic I have where the reader is a murderer in a very undisputed and direct manner.

Honorable mention I almost posted as piece 5 - The Dragon's Clause - my Sabo/Reader Noble/Fantasy/Magic AU, and also the only title I mention that's incomplete. But it's a an ode to my favorite genre, and a great many of my favorite tropes.

[veliseraptor]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, please reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers! Spread the self-love.💛💛💛

ooh interesting interesting. I actually did this one not too long ago but I can do it again, with a different set of fics this time. these are pretty much all pulled from my Author's Favorites series on AO3

our love would live a half-life on the surface (MDZS/CQL)

Possibly I'd rate this one as the most fucked up xuexiao I've written; definitely it's the most fucked up ostensible fix-it fic. and like! I did fix it! sort of! some things anyway!

It was really fun to write because of how deeply it's set in Xue Yang's POV, and the fun of trying to convey what's going on outside of his blinkered and undeniably skewed understanding of the world. I also had a lot of fun balancing between the genuinely fucked up nature of what Xue Yang is doing throughout this fic and his genuine desire to make things better and just completely failing to understand how to go about doing that.

“Why’s it matter?” Xue Yang snapped. “It doesn’t. Or it doesn’t need to. So you killed some people. So what? I get you’re upset about it right now - obviously - but it’s not like you need to be. They weren’t anyone important.” “Everyone is important,” Xiao Xingchen said. “Bullshit,” Xue Yang said firmly. “Most people aren’t. Why do they matter so much to you anyway? It’s not like you knew them. Most of them,” he amended, before Xiao Xingchen could bring up fucking Zichen. “So just - forget about it.” Xiao Xingchen made a faint sound at the back of his throat. “Is there anything human in you at all,” he said, and Xue Yang sank his teeth into his cheek, the taste of blood spreading across his tongue. He yanked the bandage the rest of the way off. “Probably not,” he said hoarsely, and started cleaning the blood off Xiao Xingchen’s face where it’d gotten smeared all over his cheeks and around his eyes. Gently. He didn’t want to actually hurt him.

what little girls are made of (MCU)

I went back and forth on a few different MCU fics but decided on this one because it gets a little less love than a lot of them and I'm deeply fond of it. I love Natasha dearly and one of the things I love about her is the potential for how weird she can be. And also I'm always on a campaign to give her more female friends.

“Is that how you usually make friends?” she asked. Natasha cocked her head to the side like she was thinking. “I made one of them by pretending to be someone else so she’d hire me,” she said. “That’s different.” It sounded like a joke. Sharon suspected it was also serious. “Then there’s Maria – I was a hundred-ten pounds of pissed off at the world when I met her. The other ones…one I met through an alien invasion and one was trying to kill me. Then there’s Wilson – I did knock on his door first.” Sharon stared at her. Romanoff smiled, a little – still sharp but maybe a little brittle. “I don’t really do usual, Agent Carter.”

Ground Zero (MDZS/CQL)

I wrote this one in an afternoon and I'm happy enough with it that I've never written another version, which is kind of saying something. I'll often circle around pivotal events in a characters' life and write a few different versions of them, and the finger-crushening is so central to Xue Yang's story that I might've done the same, but I ended up satisfied enough with this version to pretty much leave it alone as my Definitive Account (more or less).

I think what I was trying to convey here on a visceral level was the horror and the pain of that experience, which I think sometimes gets minimized into "just lost a finger." And the surrounding circumstances that shape and define Xue Yang's understanding of the world going forward because of it.

“What’s one more dead beggar?” A sigh. “If I cut off the hand there’s good odds he’ll bleed to death. If I don’t there’s good odds it’ll go foul and he’ll die in a week. What do you want?” Don’t take my hand, he thought dazedly. Don’t. Please don’t. “Start with the finger,” said the other voice. “Then we’ll see.” “Fine, fine.” Xue Yang could feel his breathing coming faster. He opened his eyes just long enough to see the man weighing a butcher’s knife, then slammed them closed again, heart pounding in his stomach. He screamed when the man touched what was left of his little finger, pulling it away from the others. Thrashed, reflexively, trying to get away. “Hold still, you little cur,” the man said harshly, and the knife went through easy like it’d gone easy into Xiao Hu when the bodyguard had stabbed him for cutting a gentry purse. Honestly, he barely even felt the cut itself.

The Sad Heart of Ruth (A Song of Ice and Fire)

An old fic but I'm still happy with it! Which isn't always the case. Throwback to a fandom I haven't written for in years but a relationship I still have a lot of feelings about. A serious outlier, in terms of my ships, but one I'm inexplicably fond of nonetheless.

And yeah, me writing about grief again. I'm always writing about grief.

It was small things she remembered. The warmth he radiated when they lay in bed together. The way his forehead crinkled when he was thinking hard about something. The strange, shy, hesitant (naïve) joy she’d felt on their wedding day. The way he’d cried into her shoulder when he’d heard of his brother’s deaths. “The King in the North is dead,” the Blackfish said, his face like carved stone. “Oh,” she said.

The Season of Grace Coming Out of the Void (Black Jewels Trilogy)

Another throwback to an old fandom that's kind of an eternal fandom in some ways; I'm very proud of this brief snippet of an AU. I think it came out well and (surprisingly) concise for what it is; it could've gotten very elaborate but I think it's stronger as the short piece that I left it.

He’d had them back a week when Daemon turned up in his study halfway through the night and announced casually, “If you do anything to Lucivar, I’ll kill you.” Saetan set down his pen and looked at his namesake. He expected to see anger, or suspicion. He found nothing. Just blank gold eyes looking placidly back at him. A shiver crawled down his spine. Saetan nodded once. “Understood,” he said. Daemon ghosted back out the door. Saetan stared after him, and wondered if he was supposed to be happy that his boys were talking to each other.

passing this one on to @ameliarating, @brawlite, @mostfacinorous, @maester-of-spreadsheets, and @feralkwe!

[voxofthevoid]

Shibuya Swap Wednesday #13! Also the final one.

At over 120k, this fic is now officially my longest JJK story, and I'm two chapters away from finishing it. But I've been too fucking tired to write a word the last week, so who knows when it'll be done. Even if I don't, this will be the last WIPWed post for this story. If I don't have a new fic to post next Wednesday, I'll open another askbox game.

For now, have an entirely SFW interaction featuring Yuuji and his three ducklings (SSS) 🦆🦆🦆

“You’re distracted today, Satoru.”

“Fuck off,” Satoru says distractedly, swaying back from a swinging fist and leaping away from the leg that swipes at him. “I’m still kicking your ass.”

“You haven’t touched me once. You haven’t tried.”

That’s not true. Of course he’s trying. He wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to recreationally beat up his best friend. And these spars Yuuji favors, where cursed techniques and even cursed energy are banned to strip them down to their base human components, are his favorite these days. They took a while to grow on him, but Satoru understands now. Here, when he wins, it’s not Limitless that earns his victory, just his bare body. There’s a surprising kind of power in that.

And when Suguru wins, well, that’s what rematches are for.

But right now, there’s another bare body darting about in his periphery—a beautiful monstrosity clothed in red.

It’s wasted on Shouko. She’s holding her own, but Yuuji’s holding back. Not her fault. Yuuji’s always holding back. He’d be wasted on anyone, even Suguru.

Not Satoru though.

Another opportunistic fist rushes toward him, and some twinge of instinct draws the entirety of Satoru’s focus back toward Suguru. The burst of motion that follows is very skilled violence, made impotent only by equally skilled evasion. A different kind of fire floods Satoru’s veins at the sheer intensity on Suguru’s face.

“What’s the matter, Suguru?” Satoru purrs. “Feelin’ neglected?”

Suguru grins—more a baring of teeth. “Not at all. I’d just hate to beat you up when your head’s not in the game. There’s no honor in that.”

“I’ll show you honor, you sanctimonious—”

Warmth at his back, pressure on his shoulders.

Suguru’s eyes are very wide.

“Are you two quarreling again?” Yuuji asks, disappointment heavy in his voice.

“Nope,” Satoru says.

“No, sensei,” Suguru echoes a second later. “Just talking. You know how it is.”

“All too well,” Yuuji says drily. “What’s this about Satoru being distracted?”

“How the hell did you hear that?” Satoru asks, craning his neck to try and stare at Yuuji. The next instant, he remembers he’s got a pair of very handy eyes that defy line of sight.

Yuuji’s expression is pretty mild. Half his eyes are clearly fixed on Suguru; the other two somehow seem to be making eye contact with Satoru through the back of his skull and all the fleshy bits in between.

Off to the side, Shouko is doubled over, hands gripping her knees as she pants and drips sweat onto the floor.

“—it, sensei,” Suguru is saying, his expression perfectly pleasant. “Just a little starting trouble.”

Yuuji’s hands tighten on Satoru’s shoulders. “That’s not like you two. If anything, getting you to stop is the issue.”

“Hey,” Satoru protests.

Suguru just chuckles awkwardly.

“Tell you what,” Yuuji says, voice low and considering, “let’s switch. Suguru-kun, pair up with Shouko-chan, please. Satoru, you’re with me.”

Satoru’s heart jumps to his throat, fluttering wildly.

Suguru glances at Shouko, and Satoru follows suit. She flashes them an okay-sign without straightening up.

“Ah,” says Suguru, looking back at Satoru. His face does something interesting—an expression that’s not fully realized. “Alright, sensei. Satoru…good luck.”

Satoru squints at him. “What the hell’s that tone for?”

Suguru’s face twitches again. “Nothing.”

“Oi—”

“Satoru,” Yuuji says warningly, and Satoru stills, slumping back against the broad body still flush with his back. Yuuji’s chest moves against him with a deep breath. “Alright then. Take five minutes, then the next round.”

Yuuji squeezes Satoru’s shoulder one last time and steps away, nodding at Suguru and patting Shouko gently on the back before heading out of the dōjō. He doesn’t go far, Satoru can tell from his cursed energy, but they all know from experience that he won’t return before five minutes are over. Sometimes, he’s kind and gives them an extra minute or two.

“I should’ve known,” Suguru says suddenly.

Satoru blinks at him. “The hell are you jabbering about now?”

Suguru sighs. “Would it kill you to be a little more polite?”

“Might,” Shouko chimes in. “Maybe that’s his secret power.”

“There’s no secret to my power.” Satoru tosses his head, his fringe flying out of his eyes. “I’m Gojou Satoru.”

“We know,” Suguru drawls. “Back to the point—at least try to be subtle about sleeping with our teacher.”

“Why? Both of you know already.”

“We don’t need details,” Suguru says.

Shouko makes a disagreeing noise. “I don’t know… Itadori-sensei has some fascinating biology.”

“Shouko.”

“He does,” Satoru agrees readily. Then he frowns. “Hands off the goods. He’s mine.”

“Satoru.”

Shouko rolls her eyes. “I don’t want him. I’m just curious.”

Satoru unbristles. “Well, that’s fine. Yuuji is fascinating.”

Shouko nods slowly. She’s still breathing a little hard, but it’s clear her focus is inward, probably putting together a mental picture of Yuuji’s “fascinating biology.” Satoru approves on principle, but he doesn’t really want to know the details. Past experience has made it abundantly clear that he and Shouko have very different ideas about what makes a body appealing.

Sure enough, she says, “Those extra arms would put a lot of strain on the torso—on his entire skeleton, really. Have you seen his muscular structure, Gojou? How much can the Six Eyes—”

“Shouko,” Suguru says repressively, “that’s our teacher.”

“So?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

Suguru pinches the bridge of his nose. “Please just drink some water and cool down. As we all should.”

“Spoilsport,” she mutters but turns around and strides to the far end of the room, where they’ve kept their water bottles and towels.

Satoru and Suguru follow at a more sedate pace.

“You tired already?” Satoru needles, digging an elbow into Suguru’s side. “C’mon, we barely fought.”

“You barely fought,” Suguru points out. “Some of us were actually trying to listen to Itadori-sensei.”

Satoru huffs. “Teacher’s pet.”

Suguru whips his head around to gape at Satoru. “You’re calling me that? You?!”

Satoru considers that for a moment. “True. I don’t want you to be Yuuji’s pet. That’s my job.”

Suguru makes a strangled noise. Satoru bounces forward, swiping a bottle off the floor and tossing it to Suguru, who twists open the cap and takes a desperate swig before Satoru can even make a quip. Shouko has migrated to one of the windows and is tapping on her phone, humming softly to herself.

Satoru shrugs and grabs another bottle, leaning against the wall while taking small sips, a moment later, Suguru joins him. He is sweating a little, and Satoru watches as he unbuttons an extra button and flaps the side of the shirt, like he’s coaxing some air in.

“Hey, Suguru?”

Suguru gives him the side-eye. “What?”

“Wanna know what those extra muscles really feel—”

A towel cuts him off, pressed firmly against his face, and Satoru cackles against the fluffy fabric as Suguru tries his best to smother him with it.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Since I see you've asking lots of people this, I'm throwing the love right back at ya!

It’s “appreciate yourself” hours! Pick five pieces of writing/art that you’ve done that you love and talk about them! ❤️❤️❤️

aowhebfofhsnwowuwbe AHHH YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY THIS MADE ME ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ Thank you for asking ❤️❤️❤️😭

Well, let’s see…

I know this isn’t a popular AU of mine, but I really love the Imprisoning War AU (and, consequently, Golden Mercy as well) with my whole heart. Also it has invaded my brain so freaking much I might actually explode LOL. Idk, my mental health and life in general have been not as optimal as I would like, and this AU has been my outlet for that, which is why it’s far more hurt and less comfort than most people like. But I relate to the characters in different ways (people pleaser Link my beloved haha dude I get trying to make everything work for everyone and trying to say yes to everyone and burning yourself out; forever alone and somehow the most rational one Hemisi I feel you girl; everyone relying on you and you have to do it because when you don’t the world falls apart Zelda keep up the good fight girl), I like exploring what happens when you really push the “Zelink has to happen every time, even at the expense of other relationships” agenda that sometimes is tossed around (no hate to Zelink or its shippers, I enjoy some Zelink ships and I know many Zelink shippers who are wonderful. I just hate the idea of forcing them together all the time when there are other relationships that are clearly there lol, I’m salty about how Hyrule Warriors handled it but it was fan service so whatevs. ANYWAY. It creates great drama), and I like showing a realistic depiction of the absolute, if you’ll pardon the expression, shit show that would be left behind in the wake of such a disastrous war that Ganondorf created. It also sets up Ganondorf’s expectations, worries, and views really well for Golden Mercy, and I’m pretty excited to write a Hyrule Warriors long fic and try to redeem that giant jerk while still making it realistic and recognizing he’s a complicated guy. :) They’re all complicated, and I love characters so it’s just so much fun for me. Also, making anybody turn into a good Dad is obviously a passion of mine LOL. I’ll shut up now, but I really love this AU. ❤️ (technically I lumped two stories together for this but they’re all part of the same AU so… there lol)

Blood of the Hero is probably my current favorite long fic that I’m actively updating. The LoZ fandom is sorely lacking good parental figures (and I understand part of that is because Link just doesn’t have parents in his games and partly because people are projecting and that’s understandable), so I wanted to fix it dang it. LET LINK HAVE PARENTS WHO LOVE HIM. BOTW TALKED ABOUT HIS FAMILY. Anyway, I also love letting adults actually have a role in saving the world instead of always leaving it to the poor overwhelmed kids LOL, making them middle aged parents is an absolute bonus. And Abel being constantly tired and burnt out and done with the world speaks to my soul, and Tilieth being the one to hold on to hope despite everything and still have sensitivity and femininity to her while still being a strong character also speaks to my soul. I love them both, and I love showing how determined they are to protect their kids, as any good parent should be. They’re heavily inspired by my own parents, as well as myself, and what I would interpret Link’s parents to be like based on his upbringing and personality, so it was really fun creating their personalities. :)

I have so many Sky-centric stories that I love, but I think my favorite is probably Paradox, I had such a fun experience writing it and loved the idea of giving Fierce Deity an origin story while creating a sense of urgency and confusion and mystery and wrapping it all in a sickfic. :) I cranked that sucker out in thirty minutes and I still think it’s one of my best one shots.

I can only take partial credit for this since @nancyheart11 came up with the original premise, and because @smilesrobotlover has contributed so much as well, but I do love Dad Squad with all my heart. They’re such idiots, I adore them and their quest to save their sons who already technically saved themselves because they’re heroes. Also, the latest development in my brain of including TotK Ganondorf as the main villain from Hero of Shadow seems appropriate in making the big baddie a Bad Dad in a Dad Squad story LOL. Having Majora’s Mask in the hands of Kohga gives me life, though, and I will forever be grateful to Nancy for coming up with that premise HA. I haven’t written much for it lately, but I do love it so much. Also props to her for publishing it on AO3, I could never LOL, I’ll just throw random things on tumblr hahaha. Also, just all the fun we’re all having - the fact that multiple people have written/drawn for this AU makes it all the more precious to me, they’re our collective characters and we all get to play in the sandbox. ❤️

I don’t do much art, I’m not very good at it, but I do want to share one since I’ve shared a bit of it. I have a few pieces I’m actually really proud of, and it’s equal liking for all of them, but I’ll share just one so I don’t talk too much.

I really like this one because for once I kind of drew a face well?? And it’s at an angle I don’t usually draw and it turned out ok?? Also I’ve never drawn rain or wet hair, and I think it turned out well. And I just like Power’s design, especially at this stage in his life where his war attire/design is mixing with his royal attire/design, even if I can’t give it justice. :) Also, I think his tired expression turned out pretty well? Like he has an actual expression?? Anyway. I think it’s decent, I like it. :)

Thank you for this ask, it made me really happy and I couldn’t wait to answer it! :D But I have like 60 works on AO3 and even more here on tumblr, so there was no way I could narrow it all down, but I think I’ve listed most of my absolute favorites. :)

[dreamyelectronicmusic]

I'm loving your Wilmon fic so very very much! I was feeling mostly done with YR and all related media and ready to let it go - in a happy, pleased-with-season-3, it's all wrapped up and my hectic job is demanding my attention way - and then it was like your fic just broke through my walls and reminded me why I fell in love with the show and its characters. Your Wille and Simon are so good to each other. Their anticipation and nerves and exhilaration as they begin to reconnect - it's everything.

I was surprised to see it's your first YR fic! I'm curious about your story of finding the show - when did that happen for you, when did you first feel inspired to create this beautiful extension of the YR world?

Aw, thank you so much for this lovely ask, I'm so happy you like the fic! 💜����

I discovered YR literally on day one! Or even before day one, because I remember scrolling through Netflix’s coming soon page and watching the teaser. I remember thinking it looked like an Elite-type trashy teen show but that I would probably watch it because it’s Swedish (I love Nordic languages). Then on July 1, 2021, at like 10 pm, I was looking for something to numb my brain and YR popped up on the Netflix homepage and I thought, oh I think that's the Swedish show I said I’d watch, let’s give it a try. So I watched the first episode and needless to say it did not numb my brain, I was immediately hooked. But I decided to be responsible and go to bed, and I watched eps 2-4 the next day, and then the day after that was a Saturday and beautiful weather so I went on a hike, and all the time I was trudging up hills I kept thinking “omg omg Wilhelm and Simon are so cute and August is such an asshole omg omg what is going to happen I need them to live happily ever after”. So yeah, I’ve been obsessed from the start 😂

I was never inspired to write fic for it before because I tend to prefer canon to be complete before I write anything, but mostly because I have this weird mental block about reading/writing fic in a different language than the one I consumed the original in. It just doesn’t sound right! (I watch the show in Swedish with English subtitles, so I want fics to also be in Swedish with English subtitles. Yes I know it doesn’t make sense). I guess the inspiration for ‘maybe now’ was strong enough for me to overcome that but tbh it still doesn’t sound right and I have to do weird mental gymnastics to write it 😂

Inspiration for the fic struck very shortly after the show, this is a post I made on March 19:

Ok so who's writing a fic where Simon didn't notice Wille running after the car, or noticed him but couldn't bear to talk to him again, and they have no contact for a year until Wille's decision to give up the crown is made public on his 18th birthday, prompting Simon to reach out and tell him how proud and happy for him he is?

And then I guess I didn’t wait for an answer and wrote it myself!

The inspiration came from the fact that while I love the ending we got and I am so happy that we got it, I do agree with people who think that it was rushed. Given what the first 17 episodes were like, we got the best possible episode 18, but in an ideal world, I would have liked another season, or the three seasons to have more episodes, or the episodes that we got to have a different pacing so that there was more time between the breakup and them getting back together. This is what I wrote in a reaction post after the first five episodes:

If this weren't the last season, I think I'd want them to break up now, take some time apart and get back together after some separate personal growth. But there simply isn't time for that.

One thing about me is that I love it when characters go their separate ways, have some separate growth and find out that they can live without each other, but they just really don’t want to. So in a way it’s a kind of fix-it fic for me.

Anyway, thank you for the ask and sorry I wrote a novel in response!

[storiesundercandlelight]

The Lessons of Mistakes

So I decided to go ahead and write the Geoffrey fic about him drinking the blood of Arthur and later worrying about becoming a vampire...so here we go! Unedited for now! I'll come back and fix mistakes later! <3

Geoffreys feet carried him slowly and unsteadily through the streets of London as he made his way back to Priwen's current hideout. His breath was laboured, his muscles ached, bruises from the fight with Reid littered his skin. But wounds and bruises Geoffrey could deal with, it was the gnawing feeling of anxiety that was making the walk back so difficult.

God you're a fool. The thought hadn't even crossed his mind when he threw his head back, drinking the dark liquid from the vial. It wasn't until Reid had put him on his knees and scoffed at his stupidity that Geoffrey considered why the blood of Arthur was such a valuable enhancement. "You're going to become the very thing you hate the most McCullum, did you even consider the consequences? Leaving not only your men but the woman you love behind as well?"

He hadn't. He'd selfishly pushed all thoughts of both of those things to the back of his mind when he'd made the trip to Pembroke to confront Reid. Now as he approached the base it was all he could think of. And for the first time in many years, Geoffrey felt broken.

He felt the weight of sadness, helplessness, anger, so many emotions pilling up on his shoulders. He wanted to scream, to curse himself for making such a stupid decision, and for what? His pride? His own need to rid the world of leeches? Even now he knew deep down that Reid was different, why couldn't he have come to that revelation before he'd tipped the blood of a potential vampire down his throat?

It took a moment for Geoffrey to realise he'd stopped walking, the entrance to the base was just across the street but he couldn't move. His eyes flicked up to the window where he knew you were waiting for him, a faint light flickering behind the closed drapes. Of all the things he'd put you through, the danger he'd introduced into your life just by being a part of it, none of that compared to what he was about to do. To tell you after everything, all the battles he'd come back from, all the fear and hardships you'd both gone through, this was the last night he'd have with you.

-------

The silence was so thick Geoffrey was sure it was the reason he was finding it hard to breathe. He didn't move though, his feet stayed firmly planted to the same spot in the middle of the room he'd been stood in for the last ten minutes. That's all it had taken. Well, five really, then the rest of the minutes ticked by like hours as you sat there on the edge of the bed staring at him. Your eyes almost as red as his tired and beaten ones were, but yours he knew were red from the tears threatening to fall down your cheeks.

Geoffrey wasn't sure what he wanted, your anger? Maybe he wanted you to scream at him, hit him over and over for being so stupid, to throw things, to let rage take over. But then again maybe that was what he wanted himself to do. But instead you just sat there, jaw tight as you continued to stare at him in disbelief.

"I'm sorry" Even his voice didn't carry the way he'd intended it to, it was hoarse, rough and tired, all but breaking as he tried to hold in whatever emotions were trying to claw their way out of him.

"So am I" you whispered. Geoffrey watched as you took in a deep but shaky breath, your eyes falling to the floor as you continued to sit there. He knew in this moment that seeing you angry would be easier for him, seeing the pain and sadness on your face was heartbreaking in a way he didn't even want to think about let alone be feeling himself.

"I don't know for sure - the leech - Reid, didn't tell me if he knew what would happen" Geoffrey took his own deep breath now, letting it go and his eye close as he shook his head. "I suppose I can see why he didn't want to be helpful"

"Perhaps he doesn't know either, he hasn't been an Elon very long" You were still staring at the floor, your voice quiet but lacking the shake that it had earlier. "I don't know what to do"

"Maybe I should leave, or tell the lads what's happened, have them lock me up until we know. Then they can take care of it."

"Take care of it? Geoffrey it's you we're talking about" Your eyes flicked back up to meet his, your brows coming together not in anger but pure frustration and helplessness. "No. You're staying here, in this room. You've taught me what to do and...and I don't want to spend what could be your last night with you locked away and not being able to be with you"

"It's too risky to do it like that, if I do turn you'll be right beside me, what if I can't control myself?"

"Then I won't have to spend the rest of my life alone" Hearing those words come from your lips hurt Geoffrey more than his stupidity. He may not have accepted it before but he was important to you, more important than anyone. You had sacrificed so much, been through so much together, the very idea of losing you would have sent him into a blind rage of agony. So of course if would feel the same for you.

The building Priwen was currently calling home was quiet, only the occasional pattern of footsteps were heard as Geoffrey laid down beside you on the bed, his weapons and jacket discarded haphazardly on his desk, except for his gun, which he placed beside you, loaded with silver.

You turned your head to Geoffrey, wrapped in his arms Geoffrey felt you push closer to him. This could be it. How could it be that the moment he finally found an ounce of happiness in his life, he goes and makes the biggest mistake of his life. He would never be able to touch you, to kiss you or laugh with you again, he wouldn't be there to see Priwen put an end to the leech problem. Hell if they even can.

But tonight, for however many hours he might have left he can at least spend them by your side. "I want to kiss you"

"When have you ever asked permission to kiss me?" You smirked, he remembered the first time you had kissed, you were sad, angry and blabbering endlessly until he had crushed his lips into yours. This time is wasn't like that. This time you kissed like it could be the last, you knew very well it could be. It was slow, familiar, full of emotion.

You kissed each other like you'd done a hundred times before, but this time it felt different, a frantic need scratching at both of your hearts begging both not to stop, to never stop. A part of Geoffrey knew that undressing you was a bad idea, he didn't know when he would turn if he does and the both of you being undressed and wrapped around each other didn't seem like the best scenario to put yourselves in. But he didn't care, he needed you. And by the way you pulled his clothes off just as fast he knew you felt the same.

Your bodies moved slowly against each other, you both trying desperately to drag this moment out for as long as you could, Geoffrey felt your arms pull his down closer as he moved his hips, relishing each small gasp that feel from your lips. God if he is going to die he wants this memory to stay with him wherever he ends up.

He brushed away the tear that slipped down the side of your face as you looked up at him, trying your best to lock every little feature of him into your memory, every scar, the colour of his eyes, the curve of his lips when he smiled. It was painful. So painful that tears kept filling your eyes, you couldn't lose him. Not now. Geoffrey felt your grip on him tighten, you foreheads pressed together, gentle kisses were places between shallow breaths as you clung to each other until the end.

It was late, almost dawn you imagined. Hours had passed since you and Geoffrey laid in bed holding each other. The room had the faint chill of the morning winter air, but Geoffrey made you both get dressed just in case so you weren't cold. But the shaking that racked through your body had nothing to do with the cold. You were nervous, every little noise raising the hairs on your arms. Geoffreys sleep heavy breathing the only other sound in the room as your fingers laced through his hair over and over. His head rested on your lap, his gun rested in your other hand.

You had been like this for an age, your legs were stiff and your back begged you to lie down but you remained sitting upright, half in fear of waking Geoffrey up but also half in fear of not being in a vulnerable position if the worst happens. Time went on, your eyes grew heavy, your body screamed, your heart raced in anxiety at what was to come. Waiting was never a game you liked to play, but this felt like torture.

It was only when Geoffrey moved that your eyes snapped opened again, your hand gripping onto the gun, your body tensing and your breath stopping in its tracks. Geoffrey was waking up.