#me: Time to write a slow and introspective fic

[itficlibrary]

This Week’s Theme Is Bev-Centric!

the following are recs for fics that are mostly if not solely focused on beverly marsh! remember to check the tags & leave comments on your faves!

like an angel (too good to be true) by leahrocky (3.2k words)

a quick & joyful little benverly origin story set in 1965, wherein bev owns a bar and bumps into ben after closing one night. featuring bisexual beverly, swimming kisses, and all around warm beachy vibes.

break the rules (spikes grow from your skin) by quirkily (7.8k words)

a bev character study via bathroom breakdown + general pennywise-y psychological warfare. featuring angsty flashbacks, body horror, and a quietly hopeful, empowered ending. this also has some lovely accompanying art!

all hail me by werewolfologist (6.2K words)

a college fic focussed on bev’s self-discovery in early adulthood, set in the late ‘90s. featuring a fantastically fiery writing style, eddie & bev bffship at the forefront and even a carrie white cameo!

power, kingdom, power by loserchildhotpants (6.6k words)

a delve into what bev might’ve seen in the deadlights at the end of IT Chapter One. featuring lots of easter eggs, the exquisite misery of beverly marsh’s childhood, and dark & nasty loser death visions.

send in the clowns by hammerhorror (8.2K words)

another bev + eddie friendship focused fic, only this time it’s set right after the events of IT chapter two, seeing the two of them staying together while avoiding their respective shitty spouses. featuring lots of introspection for both beverly and eddie, platonic slow dancing and the bittersweet healing process.

I Know A Place (We Can Run) by MonoclePony (38k words)

Set three years before the events of It Chapter Two, Bev leaves Tom and by a stroke of good luck, runs into Eddie. They decide to go on a roadtrip together, destination unknown. This fic is super cute and such a good look into Bev’s inner dialogue! The characterisation is perfect, and the fact that you get to go on this journey with both of them is amazing.

Construction and Alteration by stitchy (5k words)

An amazing look into Bev’s life in the twenty-seven years in between chapter one and chapter two. I loved following Bev throughout her story, and I really enjoyed the monologue and thought process we are privy to in this fic! Also includes some amazingly cute art!

good things ahead by reallyros (3.7k words)

A super cute story about the Losers ringing in the New Year together, from Bev’s point of view. This is a super sweet fic, and the introspection is second to none. This fic is super cozy, and perfect for people who love fix-it fics with happy endings! 

The Clown Monologues: The Darning Stitch by ratbird0917 (190 words)

A short poem from Bev’s point of view! This is super cute view into Bev’s internal monologue! 

the benevolence of beverly marsh by tozier (33k words)

A delve into Bev’s journey of self discovery! This fic is an amazing character study that goes into all aspects of Bev’s life after the events of IT chapter one, and I especially love the introspection as well as the dissection of her relationships!! Also lesbian Bev I love you… call me baby…

[tokkiwrites]

more deadpool smut! you write him really well, i’d love a dom wade again with loads of uses of pet names

summary: sometimes wades jobs don't always go as planned, and it drives him mad. good thing he has a way to release all of that pent up anger and stress.

tags: afab reader, established relationship, unprotected p in v, mean wade (kind of), cream pie, a bit of hair pulling.

>____< note : omg ty so much for this request and so sorry it took so extremely long!! uni is kicking my ass rn 😭😭😭😭 i hope you enjoy this short fic!!🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

The warehouse smelled like motor oil, damp wood, and clearly dog piss. The flickering overhead lights buzzed like they were seconds from giving up—much like Wade was right this moment. He ducked behind a rusted-out forklift, gripping his gun with one hand and pressing the other against his temple like he had a raging headache. (Spoiler: he did.)

"This was supposed to be easy!" he groaned, tilting his head back dramatically. "One guy. One bullet. Quick in, quick out—like my prom night!" A hail of bullets slammed into the metal beside him. Wade peeked around the corner just in time to see his target (let’s call him Mr. Oh Shit He’s Getting Away) sprinting toward the exit. "Are you kidding me?!" Wade shouted after him. "Dude, this is so rude. I put time and effort into this! I even picked a special murder playlist! You know how hard it is to find the right balance between high-energy gunfight and melancholic introspection?" More bullets whizzed past him and he sighed. "Jesus, hold on, let me deal with these fuckwads first!" He popped out of cover, raising his gun, and pulled the trigger.

BANG!

One of the goons dropped instantly. Which was great! Except for the tiny, tiny problem that the guy he just shot was not the one he was hired to kill. The entire warehouse went dead silent. Even the guy he'd been aiming at looked genuinely offended. Wade blinked, then let out a long, slow whistle.

"Shit. That is not the guy. Wrong dude." He turned to the remaining henchmen, raising a hand. "Okay, listen. Before anyone gets mad let’s just acknowledge that mistakes happen, right? We’ve all sent a text to the wrong group chat before. We've all thought the bread was gluten-free when it was, in fact, gluten-full. And I clearly shot the wrong guy. Can we all just take a deep breath and—" Cue another hail of gunfire.

"Okay, not breathing, got it!" Wade shouted, diving behind a stack of crates. Mr.Oh Shit He’s Getting Away was Officially gone. Wade groaned, thumping his head against the crate. "I hate when they run. It’s like, dude, if I wanted to do cardio, I wouldn’t wear a mask that literally makes it harder to breathe."

With a resigned sigh, he pulled out a grenade, chucked it in the general direction of the remaining bad guys "Buh-bye!" He turned on his heel as an explosion rocked the building. "And that’s my cue to leave!"

The door to Wade’s apartment swung open with a bang. You barely flinched. You were used to Wade's entrances being theatrical. He stomped inside, still wearing his blood-splattered suit, mask slightly askew. His hands were clenched into fists, his whole body radiating pure frustration. "Hey, babe," you greeted casually from the couch, not looking up from your book.

"Hey, babe," he mimicked, voice dripping with sarcasm. "How was your day? Oh, mine? Well, thanks for asking! It was a shitshow! Not only did my target escape, but I accidentally shot some rando who was not on the list. Do you know what that does to my Yelp reviews?" You snorted. "Pretty sure the people hiring you don’t check Yelp."

"Well, they should!" He ripped off his mask, tossing it across the room. "You know what I don’t get paid for? Collateral damage! Unless I start invoicing for my emotional trauma, which I might!"

He throws his hands up before he stormed over to you, flopping dramatically onto the couch with his head in your lap. He lets out a loud groan. "This job sucks, babe. Sucks more than a vampire on a juice cleanse."

You hummed, running your fingers down his back. "But now you’re home."

"Yes, I am home," he sighed, eyes fluttering shut as your touch melted away some of his tension. "Where my very hot, very patient, very understanding girlfriend will make me forget all about my terrible, horrible, not good, very bad day." You raised a brow as he smirks. "Oh? And how do you expect me to do that?" He sits up, pulling you closer by the hips so that you are almost sitting on his lap. Wade’s smirk didn’t just widen—it twisted, dark and dangerous, like a predator. And he seemed quite ready to attack his prey.

His hands gripped your hips tighter, fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to leave a mark. He tilted his head, eyes dragging over you. He was deciding how he was going to ruin you. "You always know how to fix me, don’t you, sweetheart?" he murmured, his voice low, edged with something sharp. His lips hovered over yours, teasing, taunting. "Always sitting pretty, waiting for me to come home, looking like you want me to take all this shit out on you."

His fingers trailed up your sides, slow and deliberate before he suddenly gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him. His hold wasn’t painful, but it was firm. Possessive. "That why you’re so quiet?" he continued, cocking his head to the side. "Hoping I’ll lose my patience? Hoping I’ll break you a little and fuck out all of my frustrations on you?" He huffed out a sharp laugh, shaking his head as he dragged his thumb over your bottom lip. His other hand slid up your thigh, squeezing it hard. "W-wade..." You manage to whisper out.

"You should be careful what you wish for, baby," he murmured, voice dripping with amusement like he was mocking the state you were already in. "I’m in a really bad mood." His lips finally crashed against yours, desperate, ruthless. He wasn’t asking. He was taking. You had to give in.

He throws his lips at your neck, your soft whimpers filling the room. Wade wastes no time and pulls the blouse you were waiting over your head, the warmth of hia body so close kissing your exposed skin immediately. He was staring at you as if it was the first time he'd seen you like this. "Look at those..." he groans and deliveres a harsh slap to your breasts making them jiggle slightly as you let out a pained whine. "That hurt?" and you not shyly. "Good." he replies, coldly.

"Wade, please.." Another faint smirk broke through the fatigue on his face. "You're gonna be good for me, aren't you? Gonna be a good little girl?" he asked, his voice a low rasp, like gravel scraping across your skin. His words were sinking deep into your bones. "Yㅡyes." you say, voice quiet, buried under the arousal and the sudden want for more.

"Yeah..." his large palms start to grab and pull at the rest of your clothes, undressing you slowly, savoring and drinking you up with his eyes. Your naked body was shivering, you didn't know if it was from the temperature or because of the anticipation playing with your heartstringsㅡ you just knew you needed to give everything you had to Wade right this moment and make him forget about all of his problems. He leans in, trailing soft kisses down the curve of your neck all the way to your shoulder, and you try to bite back your moans. "Let me hear you, baby, don't hold back." He doesn't sound pissed, just a bit disappointed you would try to hide something so beautiful from him.

In mere seconds he's naked too, but you don't have much time to notice what he's done once you're pushed face down onto the cold couch. His rouch hands lay over your trembling hips. "You're gonna let me use you now. So don't ask for anything in return. Just gotta let me fuck you." Gosh, he was mean. You bite your lower lip, humming a soft 'yes' as the tip of his hardened cock asked for entrance. "Please..." he tuts in annoyance and lands a hard slap to your plush skin. "What the fuck did I tell you? Don't ask for anything. Are you that dumb? Didn’t even fuck you yet and you're acting all stupid." you whine. " 'M sorry..."

He drags the pulsing tip up and down, up and down as if he didn't make you wait long enough. truthfully, you never wanted it to end, so maybe him teasing was his way of saying "I want to fuck you forever." After some time, he starts to push inside, and godㅡ your breath gets stuck into your chest from the feeling laden with needles, but every prick of discomfort is countered by an unexpected surge of needing more.

Your tears fall down onto the mattress under you, little moans gripping your throat as he slips inside further. "Shhh. It's okay. Don't act like it's the first time you take my dick raw" he laughs at you, as if asking you to surrender. "There we go... Hah, nice and full, right?" he laughs as he pats your lower belly, lifting your hips a bit to get a better angle. He moves gently at first, each stroke hitting deeper within your pulsing core. The pain soon twists and is replaced with ecstasy right as he alerts the movements of his hips.

He dives down with force, one of his palms trailing up and wrapping itself tightly around your hair, pulling harshly at it. He was destroying you. your head was spinning, heart pounding, as his whole weight dominated over you, and you were out of breath, barely seeing straight. "That's it, baby" his thrusts are rough, each hit making your body bounce, the urgency as he hit that very spot each timeㅡ your whole insides burning, you're too in it to talk or respond, other than some pathetic whines that perfectly accompanied the wet sounds your pussy made wrapped around his thick shaft. "Shit, baby. That's what I seeded, fuuckㅡ"

"Oh m-my god, Wade..." you manage and he snorts. "What? Can't take it?" he taunts.

You can taste your own tears on your tongue. You shake your head violently as he gets faster with his moves. "Gonna come nice and deep, yeah?" followed by a trail of shameful 'yes, yes, yes'. Feeling you tightening, the hand that was around your hair slips down to your clit, while the other makes you spread your legs wide again for easier access, giving you a chance to take in a big gasp of air. the room spins around you, body floating, ready to plummet back down at any second.

"Come." Wade demands, between his breathy groans. "Thank you, thank you, oh god, thank you so much, Wade!" you say as if praying to him whilst he keeps fucking into you ruthlessly. He buries himself deep into you as you come down from your high, body almost too limp to register your surroundings. he slaps your ass a few times, maybe trying to keep you awake, and watches you writhe under him. With a few more snaps of his hips you know he's close, nails digging roughly into your skin as he finally paints your velvet walls in white ropes. "Holy shit." He laughs through soft moans as he slips out of you. You fall onto your tummy, clutching your lower tummy from the sudden pain. "I think you bruised my cervix..." you groan and he places a soft kiss on your neck.

"Sorry, hot stuff. Remind me to never come home mad." you let out a small giggle, before turning around to face him, arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders. "Let's get cleaned?" and he frowns. "Oh, no. You didn't really think we were done, right?"

[shadowgast-recs-weekly]

Featuring Eiselcross and Aeor: A Fanfiction Rec List

This week, we have Eiselcross/Aeor! Check under the cut for 7 fics that are set in the strange and icy land of Eiselcross, and don't forget to comment and kudos if you like them!

Like a Steel Trap by kaeda (12519, Explicit)

Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek figures out just how much Caleb knows (and just how much that turns him on).

Reccer says: Elaborates on the Kryn culture and capitalizes on the feats that make Caleb just that much extra. Just two wizards seducing each other with their brains.

In the Dark with No Stars to Guide by Somestreptomyces (46532, Teen)

Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek hopes to learn more about Caleb as they travel through Aeor together.

Reccer says: It's a great fic that pays a lot of attention to the worldbuilding and journeying, with a lot of introspection combined in with it. It's a really wonderful, cozy and longer read!

Like the love that discovered the sin by bloodredribbon (4960, Explicit)

Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

"When the wizards meet up in Aeor, Essek is woefully underdressed for the weather. Out of concern for his Kryn-friend's extremities, Caleb offers to help, with unforeseen (horny) consequences."

Reccer says: I liked it!

Hold Me Close, Cut Me Deep by CatgirlTheCrazy (14192, Mature)

Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Whilst investigating in Aeor, Essek gets Charmed by an Incubus wearing Caleb's face. The real Caleb goes to desperate lengths to save him

Reccer says: The best kind of whump, with a really sweet ending. It hurts so good!

Through The Frightening Door by Prolix (228,371 (but ongoing; currently at 34/40 ch), Explicit)

Reccer's Content Notes: canon typical violence, i’d say — so if that’s graphic, then graphic, but i wouldn’t say it’s more so than anything else

Post-C2 longfic. Ongoing. Essek POV. The classic Aeor exploration slow burn relationship study genre of fic, but the highest degree of Aeor exploration & slow burn & relationship study conceivable.

Reccer says: look. i’ve read a lot of shadowgast, and i’m picky about my shadowgast to boot. this is honestly the best characterization of their dynamic, the most interesting depiction of aeor, and the most well-written work i can remember reading �� and there are some good fics out there, too! but prolix might solo em all for me, and the fic is not even done yet! if you’re someone who looks for legitimately good writing (like actually legitimately very good!!!), realistic, thoughtful characterization of both our boys (and the cameos we get of the other nein) and how they develop post campaign, an in-depth relationship study that lets things grow naturally and doesn’t manufacture drama/angst when unnecessary in order to rush OR delay developments unbelievably, as well as a frankly disconcertingly fleshed out version of aeor w/ insanely detailed, unique, innovative, meaningful, and thorough world-building, go read this fic. go now. it’s still updating! get in on the ground floor!

Snowed In in Aeor by bardlock (1133, Mature)

Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

While trekking through Aeor, Essek and Eadwulf get separated from Caleb and have to spend the night together when they’re out of spell slots to Teleport. It gives Essek plenty of time to think about the situation… and Eadwulf is no stranger to having to cuddle up with others for warmth.

Reccer says: The fic is a WIP, but I’m loving the previews that have been posted in AifL! The first chapter alone has me really excited for this fic, and I’m really intrigued by this exploration of Bren/Eadwulf vs. Caleb/Essek through Essek’s viewpoint of it.

The following fic received two recs!

Gravity, and all that's born within by SkyScribbles (163598, Teen)

Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Wizards returning to Aeor and realising not everything is as they left it while coming to terms with everything that has happened between them.

Reccer 1 says: I really enjoy the way the relationship develops, and the fantastic original characters.

Reccer 2 says: Quite literally my favourite fic I’ve ever read. The characters are perfectly voiced and the antagonists are complex and deep. The writing is so incredibly smart, it stands with the source material in terms of depth and development. I reread it every couple of months!

This is one of our weekly communally-generated shadowgast rec lists. Every week we announce a new theme and allow anyone to submit a fic recommendation.

And hey, anyone includes you!

Next week, we'll be featuring fics from Caleb's POV!

Any fics coming to mind? Well, then use this form to submit!

[azure-firecracker]

Fic Rec Roundup!

In honor of my going off to college (my posts will be slowing down), and finishing 3 seasons of TXF, I asked y’all what sort of “special post” you wanted me to make. You voted on a roundup of some of my favorite TXF fics, so here it is! Prepare to watch me gush profusely about the phenomenal writers in this fandom.

This will be in chronological order, so first time watchers like me need not fear spoilers:)

I’m not including my own writing here, but you can find it in my masterpost.

Without further ado, let’s get into the fics!

Season 1:

starstruck by @thursdayinspace (General Audiences, 671 words): Set post-Pilot. The title says it all. This is quite possibly the cutest thing I’ve ever read.

Something Bigger Than Us by Mungo_of_Maundery (General Audiences, 721 words): A nice coda to Deep Throat after Scully rescues Mulder from the air base. Internal monologue is great.

humans in nature by @theswisscheeserag (General Audiences, 2,733 words): Mulder and Scully’s conversations post The Jersey Devil. Philosophy mixed with fluff and some laugh-out-loud humor. Perfectly captures the vibe of early MSR.

Still Feeling My Father Ascend by @cecilysass (Teen and Up, 13,073 words): Mulder and Scully share some tender moments post Beyond the Sea. Both of them have a lot of healing to do, for different reasons. Some of my favorite MSR introspection can be found in this fic, and you can tell how much thought and care this author puts into the characterizations. There’s also several excellent funny moments - a true gem of a fic!

Egit Genius Loci by snow_and_rain (Teen and Up, 21,937 words): Case fic set right after Beyond the Sea. Featuring early-onset MSR, angst, mutual pining, and hurt/comfort. A little whimsical, a little eerie, a little sad.

Between Two Truths by @agent-troi (Teen and Up, 1,621 words): Missing scene from E.B.E after Scully’s speech to Mulder. An excellent internal monologue from Mulder’s POV followed by some top-tier MSR banter.

the progression (and regression) of first names by skuls (Teen and Up, 5,421 words): A series of vignettes exploring Scully and Mulder’s relationship as it evolves throughout Season 1. Pitch-perfect Scully characterization and several moments that really showcase her inner conflict fantastically, but also many wonderfully tender MSR scenes (keep an eye out for the coffee scene - my favorite!)

never learned to read your mind by @swinging-stars-from-satellites (General Audiences, 1,071 words): An alternate version of Season 1 where Scully leaves after Deep Throat. Profound, heartwarming, wistful and a bit sad, this takes an interesting concept and really tugs at your heartstrings.

Season 2:

distractions by @thursdayinspace (General Audiences, 1,181 words): Post-abduction. Mulder does his best to help. Absolutely heart-melting, sweet and tender and a little sad too.

The Safety of Guilt by the_status_clo (Teen and Up, 732 words): Mulder’s guilt post-abduction. Do you like to feel miserable? Do you like to slip into a pit of unwavering guilt and wallow in beautiful words? Read this!

Redial by @theswisscheeserag (Teen and Up, 7,423 words): A frequent reread of mine! Set during Mulder and Scully’s quarantine post-Firewalker and told through a series of phone calls. This fic has everything you could possibly want: introspection, angst, fluff, humor, friendship and romance all mixed into one…it’s just really good in 1000 different ways. Endlessly rereadable.

until it heals by @actual-changeling (Teen and Up, 2,351 words): A post-Irresistible fic that captures all of the poetry, panic, and drama that is Season 2 MSR. Incredibly tender with some stunning inner monologue moments. A perfect coda to my favorite episode.

Authority and Gravity by Xecotcovach (Teen and Up, 2,338 words): Another excellent fic where Scully (with Mulder’s help) tries to deal with some of her season 2 trauma. Their dynamic here is very tender and their banter is just the right amount of sassy and quippy. Set after Fresh Bones.

If You’re Sinking, I Will Jump Right Over by SammyLovesASOIAF (Teen and Up, 1,642 words): An alternate version of End Game where things go…badly-but then Mulder has to confront his emotions!An interesting alternative, angst with a happy ending. Lovely poetic language; I have some lines from this that I remember word-for-word.

Our Town by @leiascully (Teen and Up, 813 words): Scully’s thoughts during and after the climax of Our Town. Very in-character, appropriately intense, really conveys the fear and desperation intertwined with Season 2 MSR.

Season 3:

Light in Dark Places by @agent-troi (Teen and Up, 2,697 words): Set in Season 3 but it’s really about Irresistible and Scully’s insecurities in general. Peak hurt/comfort, this one makes your heart hurt in the best possible way, and then it feels like a warm hug with the resolution.

Got You(r) Back by @shearmouth (Teen and Up, 4,933 words): This is THE injury fic for me. Set post-731. The hurt/comfort levels in here are unmatched. Scully’s internal monologue is perfect. Mulder is an actual puppy and Scully takes care of him and it makes my heart melt in all of the right ways.

stay close, listen by @actual-changeling (Teen and Up, 2,667 words): Post Pusher. Very angsty, but in the best possible way and with an extremely satisfying resolution. This fic definitely wins best-written: it’s essentially poetry, and its uses of metaphor and literary references are stunning. I can’t recommend this enough.

find me defenseless by @impulsive-astrophile (Mature, 7,421 words): Case fic! Do you like Mulder torture? Do you like badass Scully? If so, you will love this fic because it has both in spades (plus-spoilers-a wonderful ending to make up for the pain). Whenever I’m fed up with the show’s kidnapping ratio, I read this: it’s probably my most frequent reread. I will say that it is more violent than anything I’ve written, so be aware.

Unconfirmed timing but spoiler-free:

unravelling by @actual-changeling (General Audiences, 2,208 words): Scully wakes up to a familiar voice theorizing on her television. What follows is as sweet and humorous as it is charged and just a little tragic.

Shakespirited by orphan_account (Teen and Up, 13,670 words): A fic that I’m pretty sure was written specifically for me. Mulder and Scully go undercover in a Shakespeare troupe plagued by strange murders. If you like TXF and are a Shakespeare nerd, you will love this. Definition of a good time (but there’s some angst too-how could there not be?) I think there are some minor spoilers in here, but nothing to really tell you anything as long as you’ve seen up to Anasazi.

Sometimes You Need to Have Fun by @baronessblixen (Teen and Up, 1,192 words): Fluff written by the queen of fluff herself! Mulder and Scully go ice skating. It’s as adorable and sappy as it sounds.

Stupid Cupid by @mulderwearingglasses (General Audiences, 5,325 words): A Valentine’s Day fic! This features jealous Scully (a delight) as well as some excellent humor and fluff. Overall just a lovely time. There may be some minor spoilers in here, but nothing that told me anything.

[aerialflight]

another fic rec list! (march edition)

I read so many good fics this month that I HAD to recommend. And again, I wildly pingponged between fandoms, though some still stuck around so you're in luck. Enjoy!

[Star Trek] (found some more! and reread old favorites)(also, fell in love with multiple ships)

Manner of Attraction by LiterallyThePresident

Ship: Spock/Leonard McCoy

“Spock, you think I’m sexy, right?” McCoy laughed “Yes.” Spock said honestly, and all three of them seemed to stop short

(short, sweet, and sparked my interest in this ship! it's my gateway drug fic and was what made me curious enough to hunt for more. definitely recommend! XD)

Anything You Can Do by igrockspock for ictus

Ship: Jim Kirk/Hikaru Sulu

'Anything you can do, I can do better' is not a healthy relationship philosophy - unless you’re Jim and Hikaru.

(listen, LISTEN, i love rarepairs and my god, this was written so fucking well and made me laugh multiple times. also, hikaru sulu is a bamf and i love when people portray him as the competent man he is! seriously, please give this a try, you won't regret it!)

freefall (flying) by tantamoq

Ship: Jim Kirk/Hikaru Sulu

Kirk is used to falling - what he isn't prepared for is the moment when he might actually hit the ground.

(again! a must read for this rarepair that i've fallen in love with nfewiofewa. seriously, i'm in a hole and i WILL drag people down with me! the potential of this relationship is too much! too powerful! please give it a go, i swear you won't regret it! this fic is fantastic!!)

Quirks and Their Side Effects by highschool-facelesshellion (orphan_account)

Ship: Jim Kirk/Leonard McCoy

Jim Kirk's always been a weirdo. Leonard could use some more weird.

(YES! LET THEM BE WEIRD!! truly, i accept every headcanon and everything this fic has spoken into the world, it's too good not to be true. i actually cried at some parts, you'll know which just from reading it. their friendship/queer-romantic or whatever the hell these two have here is so fucking good and i love it so so much!! seriously, please please read!!)

Long Road Home by EternalSheWolf for eyres

“It’s the greatest ship ever built.” His voice cracks, and he tells himself it’s because he’s been speaking for probably days now and he’s thirsty and his throat is probably bleeding and Bones will kill him, goddamit, Jim – A tear leaks out of the corner of his eye. “I want to go home.” He whispers.

(every time. every fucking time god damn it. *sobbing*)

Houses Made Of Earth by nsmorig for oneatatime

Ship: Spock/Leonard McCoy

In which Spock moves in with, uses the first name of, and falls in love with, Leonard McCoy. More-or-less in that order.

(okay, i just love the author and how they write. full stop. the slow building relationship and understanding between bones and spock was so rewarding and sweet. it's very introspective on both sides and explores what troubles and life changing things they're each going through, while also changing what they thought about the other. it's slow and thoughtful and pulled me in bit by bit. i absolutely recommend both the fic and this author in general, it's so good!!)

Pavlov's Cuddles by InsaneSociopath

Ships: Jim Kirk/Spock, Philip Boyce/Christopher Pike

Chris decides the absolute best way to get Jim to behave is to classically condition him using candy. Because. Um. That's perfectly normal and acceptable right?

(the entire premise of this fic sounds so weird but it works! jim is autistic and chris is deeply, truly weird. his whole relationship with boyce made me cackle so much! boyce has to suffer through chris's shenanigans and yet enables him constantly so he only has himself to blame lmao! and spock! is so cute and every time he showed up it's amazing haha! if you just want to have a good time and watch a successful trainwreck of a man try and adopt jim kirk, this is 100% for you lol)

-

[The Witcher] (yup! again. these idiots won't leave me alone)

The Neverending Jaskier by TheSilverQueen

Ship: Geralt/Jaskier

Geralt goes fishing for a djinn to solve his sleeplessness. He is not expecting to fish up a man instead. Especially not a cursed, eternally doomed to resurrect bard of a man.

(i know this sounds ridiculous, but the author is just so good at making it believable. i love how geralt slowly starts to fall for jaskier, it's gradual and heartfelt and he doesn't want it lol. and so many of his problems are solved just because of sequence of events and how ridiculous jaskier is, which amuses me a lot. please read!)

in the belly of the beast by TheSilverQueen

Ship: Geralt/Jaskier

On the fifth day after Jaskier is swallowed alive by a lake monster, he meets a Witcher.

Part 8 of The Witcher Flash Fic Challenge

(the concept was so funny that i had to read it. and i was right, it's hilarious! seriously, please read! it made me laugh like a hyena and i never once thought someone can draw inspiration from fullmetal alchemist like this. the fact this is the same author right above has me believing they're just really good at making wild premises work lol. it's amazing!)

no reason to run by SummerFrost

Ship: Geralt/Jaskier

"You'll change your mind one day," says the innkeep. "The road can't love you back." What a strange way to flatten something so beautiful, Jaskier thinks. What a small way to love. Or: When Jaskier is hit with a curse that prevents him from having sex, he's lucky that the first person he meets is a Witcher. It's even luckier that Jaskier is used to hitting the road, because Geralt isn't waiting up.

(this fic has everything! it's hilarious, it's soft and tender, and it makes me want to hang it up on a wall for posterity. it's romantic, in the sense that jaskier sees the beauty of everything around him and geralt can't help but be drawn in by it. i couldn't help but be drawn in by it. also, it's so incredibly poly and i love that aspect of the fic, it painted love as such a giving yet selfish act and it's beautiful because of it. as geralt said in this fic, jaskier is a poet, ergo, the author is a goddamn poet and it shows. seriously, please read, it's so damn good!)

Keeping Crows by Castillon02

Ship: Geralt/Jaskier

If it was some kind of weird religious thing, it was for a god Geralt had never heard of. Probably it was just a weird Jaskier thing. Crows, of all creatures! Corpse eaters. Grain stealers. No one liked crows. But Jaskier was voluntarily traveling with a Witcher; maybe he just had poor taste.

(the metaphor!! geralt is a crow! jaskier loves things that aren't meant to be loved and is loved back for it! also, i personally just love crows so this love letter for them had me kicking my feet in delight. seriously, please please read! i want to hug this to my chest and sleep with it, it was so warm.)

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[Harry Potter & Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them] (yeah, i know, what?? i don't know what to tell you fnewpfwa)

Preantepenultimate by lonerofthepack

Ship: Original Percival Graves/Newt Scamander

Newt Scamander had not intended to return to New York, much less the Woolworth building. Nevertheless, he arrived on the second of May, bedraggled and soaking from the spring rains with his arm trapped in a junior auror's grip, and just in time to make himself useful. Percival Graves has survived Grindelwald, with the scars to show for it, and returned to his role as Director of Magical Security despite a newly developed difficulty in speaking aloud. When Theseus Scamander’s younger brother gets dragged into the bullpen at precisely the right moment to be helpful, Graves seizes the opportunity to bring in a magizoologist for a sorely needed fledgling Beasts division, and a battle-tested asset into the MACUSA fold. Perhaps he should have expected chaos to follow in the path of a dragon rider.

Part 4 of Reticence 'verse

(*buries face in hands* fnewiofae it's so goddamn jane austen. the slow building romance, the respect they have for each other, the fact there's a freaking marriage of convenience plot that isn't contrived and makes sense, all of it! a victorian romance? in 1920s new york?? more likely than you think. god, i got so obsessed while reading this and flew through it in 2 days, it's so good!! and the fact that they show! real actual repercussions of graves imprisonment by grindlewald! he's selectively mute and the author expands how he now manages to live with it in a world where he went through something so traumatic is *chefs kiss* brilliant! and newt is so competent and graves recognizes that and is competent himself and i just, god, GOD, this is the best characterization for this ship i've ever seen, i love it so so much nfiewopewa. seriously, please please read this! i'm obsessed!!!)

Ad Sistendam Furto Magicae by InsaneSociopath

Ships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley

Hermione is all out of fucks to give. Ron and Harry reluctantly approve.

(time travel fic! a solid, fantastic read and i loved every minute of it! and the fact there's a tag specifically saying they stan ron is all it took to win me over lol. god, it's so hard to find a good ron in fics, drives me mad. if you want to have a fun time and watch as the trio run wild through hogwarts, this is definitely for you :D)

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[Buffy the Vampire Slayer] (look it's just one series that i immediately got obsessed with. but it made my month so i NEED to recommend it NOW.)

wouldn't it be nice? (in the kind of world where we belonged) by SummerFrost

Ship: Spike/Buffy

Spike is still beneath her, so hard he's vibrating, and a second ago she was living in this amazing, perfect, fresh piece of Dubble Bubble bubblegum world. A second ago, she loved him. Or: The thing about Willow's will-be-done spell is that, yeah, obviously it sucks that it happened with Spike. But now that all those totally fake lovey-dovey feelings are gone, Buffy is starting to worry that she'll never get them back—with anyone. Too bad the only person who might understand is her mortal enemy.

Part 1 of wouldn't it be nice?

(*deep breath* i need this like i need air. i don't really go for buffy fics but fuck, this is incredible. it's the same author who wrote one of the witcher fics on this list and their writing is just as beautiful here. it really looks at the aftermath of the episode something blue and what it means for both spike and buffy. and as for the rest of this series, it continues on to later seasons of buffy and how spike and buffy being an established relationship changes things in the future. this is the most healthy version of the buffy/spike ship i've ever seen and it's honestly heartbreaking to think about what could've happened if they had just talked to each other. this has become one of my favorite buffy fics ever and i absolutey recommend this to people, it's brilliant!)

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[Dimension 20] (i'm so random. also, currently watching unsleeping city s2 so i'm probably gonna rec more fics in the future, not sure)

the i love you fic by jorjudje

Fandom: Fantasy High

a scenario for each and every bad kids duo in which they tell each other they love them.

(this is the sweetest fantasy high fic in the fandom, i will die on this hill!! they love each other so much! the most friendship fic to ever friendship!! god, this made me want to watch fantasy high all over again, i love the bad kids so much fneiwofpewa)

everyone's a pessimist, I see a future painted in pink by HighAsAFlyingFish

Fandom: Fantasy High

Early Freshman year the newly formed Bad Kids run into themselves from the future. Or maybe a future? Who knows, time travel is weird, have another ice cream.

(time travel time travel time travel!! seeing how much the bad kids have grown up compared to freshman year always makes me feel teary eyed. and also cackle like a hyena, the freshmen have NO context on ANYTHING and it's hilarious XD)

Modify Memory by foxfantasma

Fandom: The Unsleeping City

“Pete,” the first man says slowly, like he’s trying to calm a spooked child. “What’s my name?” “Kingston,” Pete answers automatically, the feelings of trust and home and a fragment of being shouted at in a bodega he’s never been to all conflicting and coexisting in his skull. He hasn’t tripped this bad since the episode that had gotten him on the antipsychotics in the first place, and even this makes that look like a walk in the park. He can’t afford to get sent back to the hospital, not without insurance, and he really needs to get it together before someone calls an ambulance, or worse, the cops. “You’re Kingston Brown,” he says firmly, hopes to everything there is that he’s right. Or: Pete doesn’t remember being awakened to the Unsleeping City and has a rough time //Chapter two is Kingston’s pov

(i just finished watching s1 and immediately started hunting for kingston and pete friendship fics cause i NEEDED it. and then i found this and wow, it's such a great character study for both pete and kingston, i loved it! please read!!)

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[Deadpool and Wolverine] (we're back bitches)

Rotten Ones by atimefeeler

Ship: Logan | Worst Wolverine/Wade Wilson

“Oh my god,” Wade said. “I’m an idiot.” “Yes. And?” Logan snapped. “I forgot Logan died in 2029,” Wade said, horrified. “It’s 2024." ... (It's okay, Wade. The writers forgot too.) Deadpool and The Worst Wolverine join forces with the X-Men to save Laura and the kids from Project X-23, stop the Westchester Event, and prevent mutant extinction. Oh, and they also fall in love while they do it.

(i combed through so many fics and found this gem among the rubble of my search. it's soft and full of hurt/comfort, yet also plot driven and full of character interactions and moments between wolverine and the x-men of deadpool's timeline. and i have so much respect for the author's attempt to make sense of fox's bizarre timeline of events for the x-men series lol. i'm so invested in this fic and the slow burn between logan and wade has me kicking my feet in delight, it's wonderful! seriously, please read! i'm so glad i found this!)

Harvest Moon by SlugSniffing

Ship: Logan | Worst Wolverine/Wade Wilson

Logan still can't recall anything from his past, no matter where he goes or who he speaks to. He's at the end of his rope when a mercenary crash-lands at his feet in Bobby Drake's kitchen. (set during the events of X2 - consider this X2 featuring Deadpool-movieverse Deadpool, complete with Origins-era Wade backstory.)

(i'm not fucking kidding when i say i think the author is deapool, their end notes always has me fucking cackling, they sound exactly like him it's amazing. truly, this fic is so damn good and the writing is stellar! there were so many moments where i actually started crying because the emotions the author managed to convey got too fucking real, my GOD. and the plot! wow!! deadpool is inserted in the plot so seamlessly that i honestly wish i could watch this version of events play out on the big screen, it's so much fun! and heartbreaking! seriously, please read this, i'm so so excited to see what happens next and so will you!)

Mr. Forgettable by Arwriter

Ship: Logan | Worst Wolverine/Wade Wilson

Wade’s off the couch, moving slowly until he’s standing right in front of Logan. He’s eyeing him carefully, thoughtfully, like he can piece together a solution to whatever the hell is happening right now. “You’re not just doing this so you can get out of buying dinner, are you?" “Fuck you.” Or: Even if he can't quite place his face, Logan doesn't think he could ever forget Wade Wilson.

(i both want to punch and hug logan, he's really going Through It. this fic is both incredibly angsty yet sweet at the same time, amnesic logan deserves a damn hug! and wade is Suffering and just as bad as him. god, they're so dumb nfewiofpewa)

[yunaversalluv]

Some Things Don’t Stay ⋆ ִֶָ ๋

Dina x fem!reader

synopsis ⋆ ִֶ

Sometimes love isn’t forever—sometimes it’s a beautiful, fleeting moment that changes you in ways you never expected. This introspective one-shot follows your quiet life after a tender, passionate relationship with Dina, tracing the spark that brought you together, the slow unraveling, and the gentle acceptance of what it means to love and let go. Through memories both bright and painful, you learn that not all endings are failures — some are simply part of the story, and that love, in all its forms, leaves an imprint that time can’t erase.

WORD COUNT: 3.3k

note - This story is an introspective look at a relationship that doesn’t have a traditionally happy ending (and cause there needs to be more dina fics) . It focuses on acceptance and bittersweet emotions rather than closure or reunion.

cws// emotional breakup, sadness and melancholy, angst with gentle pacing, reflective themes on loss and acceptance, mentions of loneliness and grief (no graphic descriptions)

taglist - @ephemaireey, @miajooz,@andiemiaswife,@valeisaslut

There’s a photo on your fridge you haven’t taken down.

You’ve moved twice since leaving Jackson. First to the foothills west of town, then again to this farmhouse on the edge of the old orchard. Each time, you packed light—essentials in bins, books wrapped in jackets, linens folded flat. No big declarations. No rushed departures. Just a quiet kind of movement, like turning a page without creasing the spine.

The photo came with you both times. Not on purpose, at first. You’d tossed it in with the kitchen junk—spoons, a bottle opener, three magnets shaped like apples. When you unpacked that first night here, you found it curled in on itself like something hibernating. The edges had yellowed a little. But the color was still there.

You and Dina, in front of the cabin you used to share. Early autumn, judging by the gold bleed of trees behind you. She’s laughing. Not posed, not careful. Her braid is coming undone over her shoulder. Your hand is on her arm, pulling her close, eyes half-shut from the sun.

She took the picture herself. Propped the camera up on a crate and set the timer. “Smile like you actually like me,” she’d said.

You’d grumbled, made a face. She caught it anyway. Froze you both in that easy, weightless kind of happiness that feels impossible now.

You meant to take it down when the walls started to feel like yours. But it’s still there, held by a horseshoe magnet and a dried flower stem someone left on your porch last spring.

It’s not about holding on. Not really. It just belongs there now. Like the creak in the third stair, or the way Lucky, your three-legged mutt, insists on sleeping under the table even when there’s a perfectly good bed next to the stove.

The house is quiet, but not empty.

You’ve made a rhythm out of things. Mornings with tea instead of coffee. A dented tin watering can you carry out to the vegetable beds, even though half of them gave up sprouting last season. The radio only works on two stations, so most days you hum instead—snatches of songs from back when you still danced in the kitchen, socks slipping on the wood floor, laughter echoing like it had nowhere else to be.

You haven’t danced in a long time. But some mornings, when the sun comes through the windows just right, your hand still twitches toward the dial.

You keep one mug on the drying rack. One set of boots by the door. A single pillow on the bed, because the second one stayed too cold for too long and you got tired of pretending you didn’t notice.

There are other things. Subtle ones. You still buy the good honey—because Dina always said the cheap stuff tasted like syrup and lies. You still fold towels the way she liked, even though it annoyed you back then. And you still check the mail slot by the gate, even though no one writes anymore, not really.

You don’t ache like you used to. The wound closed. But it didn’t vanish. There’s a tenderness in you now, like skin that’s healed too thin.

Some days you catch yourself talking to her, low under your breath, out loud without meaning to. Little things. A joke she would’ve liked. A story from the market. The kind of beautiful sunset she would’ve dragged you outside to see, hands cold but excited, voice all lit up.

You tell yourself it’s just habit.

But habits, like people, start somewhere.

And some of them don’t leave.

You met her on a patrol you weren’t supposed to be on.

Someone had gotten sick—food poisoning or a bad cold, maybe, you never got the full story—and you were pulled in last-minute, still tugging on your coat as you jogged up to the gate. Dina was already saddled and waiting, reins loose in one hand, brows arched like she was unimpressed with the delay.

“You’re my backup?” she said, lips twitching.

You hadn’t expected someone your age. Let alone someone who looked like that—half-drenched in morning light, braid slung over one shoulder, a tilt to her posture that said she didn’t take things too seriously unless she wanted to.

You blinked. “Lucky you.”

That earned a small smile, one she tried to hide by looking away. You climbed up beside her, muttering something about how if you were late it was because you were scraping ice off your boots. She hummed, amused. The first hour was mostly silence, save for horse hooves crunching snow and the occasional crack of a branch overhead.

But Dina wasn’t built for quiet, not really.

By hour two, she was asking where you were from. By hour three, she was telling you about a patrol where she and Jesse almost got stuck in a collapsed tunnel and had to eat squirrel jerky for two days.

By hour four, you were smiling like an idiot at everything she said.

You’d never really flirted with someone like her before—so bold, so openly amused by the way you hesitated. She didn’t let you stay guarded for long. Not with her quick laughter. Not with the way she’d say your name, drawn out slightly like a lyric she liked repeating.

“You always look this serious?” she asked once, nudging your shoulder with hers.

“Only when I’m trying not to die.”

“So… always.”

That was how it started: easy teasing, long rides, nights in lookout towers with thick blankets and terrible coffee. You caught her watching you when she thought you weren’t paying attention. You never called her out on it. You just watched her back.

The first kiss was in a barn about ten miles out.

You’d found shelter there when the wind picked up—snow slicing across the open fields like tiny needles. The barn was dry, at least, and still mostly intact. You found a pile of old feed sacks to sit on. She lit a lamp and rubbed her gloved hands together, eyes catching yours in the flicker.

“God, I hate the cold,” she said, stretching her legs out. “Should’ve been born somewhere with palm trees and margaritas.”

You smiled, unthinking. “And no barns to get stuck in?”

“Exactly. But… if I had to be stuck with someone…”

She trailed off, head tilting toward you like she was weighing something. Like she was waiting for a reason not to lean in.

You gave her none.

The kiss was slow at first, like she was asking a question and didn’t want to rush the answer. Her glove brushed your cheek, then slid up to cup behind your ear. You exhaled into her mouth. Everything outside—wind, cold, the cracking timbers of the old barn—fell away.

When you pulled back, she searched your face with a look that made your pulse hammer. Nervous, like she cared what she saw there.

“I want this to be something,” she said, voice low.

Your breath caught. “Something?”

Dina shrugged, but not like she didn’t care—more like she was scared she’d said too much.

“Not just a thing that happened on patrol. Not just for when it’s easy.”

The words hit you in the chest like a soft punch.

You weren’t used to people asking for something real. Not like this. Not so early. Not so gently.

You reached for her hand without thinking.

“I do too,” you said.

That night, you lay down side by side under one of the horse blankets, boots still on, arms tucked close but not touching. You both stared at the wooden beams above, hearts thrumming loud enough to hear.

Neither of you slept much.

You don’t remember everything from that winter. But you remember her breath on your neck. Her laugh echoing off snow. The way her fingers curled around your sleeve when you walked too far ahead.

You remember the barn. The quiet. The way it all began like a match striking too close to kindling—unexpected, small, but impossible to ignore once lit.

The cabin you shared was technically Dina’s first—handed down from someone in her patrol rotation who moved east for trade. But it became yours, too, somewhere along the way. Not with a ceremony or a key exchange. Just… slowly. Like everything with her.

A jacket left on the hook. Your books added to the shelf beside hers. A mug she started calling yours even though she used it more often.

You remember how it used to smell in the mornings—fresh coffee, cinnamon, something faintly herbal from whatever tea she'd tucked into the back of the pantry. Dina always got up first, sometimes before dawn, and puttered around with a kind of softness that made it feel like the day itself wanted to be gentle with you.

You remember how she’d curl her legs under her at the kitchen table, eyes bleary but bright, humming a little under her breath. How she’d leave a note if she left early. Nothing long—just a doodle of a bunny or a quick “patrol w/ Jesse, don’t forget to feed the goat, ily.”

There were joys, small and abundant.

You cooked together most nights. You never liked onions, but she’d chop them anyway, joking that she had to suffer if the dish was going to be good. You kept a running tally of who burned what, who forgot the salt, who made the best soup when one of you got sick. You always won, but she’d claim it was only because you cheated and used her mom’s old spice blend.

“You’re a dirty trickster,” she’d mutter, licking the spoon.

“Maybe. But you’re eating it.”

Sometimes she’d dance with you in the kitchen—no music, just the rhythm of whatever song was in her head. Her hands were always warm, even when yours weren’t. She’d tug you close, spin you, laugh against your collar. You’d pretend to protest. You never meant it.

There was a plant in the window you tried to keep alive together. A shared journal where you’d write notes to each other on opposite pages. Her handwriting leaned left. Yours leaned right. It made the book look like it was tipping into itself, always almost touching.

You slept back to back at first. Then forehead to spine. Then tangled, legs hooked like anchors, her palm flat over your ribs like she could keep time by the way you breathed.

You were happy.

But time, like a slow drip, started to wear through.

It started with the little things.

A change in Dina’s patrol schedule. A shift in your hours at the greenhouse. One of you waking up while the other came home, brushing kisses onto half-asleep cheeks that smelled like snow and sweat and longing.

You began to miss each other without realizing it.

Some nights, she came home quiet. You’d ask what was wrong, and she’d shrug, say she was tired. Say the roads were slick. Say Jesse’s horse slipped and it spooked her. You knew when she wasn’t telling the whole truth, but you didn’t push.

You weren’t always good at asking twice.

Other nights, you’d retreat too far into yourself—frustrated with the work, with the quiet, with something you couldn’t name. You’d lay beside her but feel miles apart. She’d notice. Of course she would. But she didn’t always know how to reach you.

And you didn’t always know how to let her try.

There were still good days. Plenty of them. Long hikes where you found new places to hide away and kiss until your mouths hurt from smiling. Nights by the fireplace where you curled up with a book in one hand and hers in the other.

But there was a slow drift beneath it all, like river ice breaking up in spring. Subtle at first. Then undeniable.

The moment you really noticed it was a late-summer evening.

You were sitting on the porch with Dina, watching fireflies bloom in the tall grass. She had a blanket over her knees, mug resting against her thigh. You had your head on her shoulder, eyes half-lidded.

“I think maybe I want something different,” she said, suddenly.

You blinked. “From me?”

She shook her head too quickly, like she hadn’t meant for it to come out that way. “No. Not… not different like that. I mean… different pace. Different future.”

You turned to look at her, slow and cautious. “Like what?”

She hesitated. Looked out toward the orchard. “Kids, maybe. Not now, but… someday. And not just surviving. I don’t know. I want to build something. Something that feels like it’s going somewhere.”

You didn’t answer right away.

Because you didn’t know if you wanted the same things. Or if you did, whether it was still with her.

Not because you didn’t love her. You did. God, you did.

But something in your heart was always reaching elsewhere, always grasping for a version of yourself that hadn’t taken root yet. And loving someone who had already bloomed was starting to feel like you were holding her back.

That night, you held her tighter.

Because you knew, even if she didn’t say it yet, that you were holding her for one of the last times it would feel easy.

It didn’t happen all at once.

There was no dramatic fight, no slammed door or betrayal or last straw. Just the slow erosion of closeness—like wind smoothing down the edges of something once sharp. You didn’t realize how far apart you’d drifted until one night, you both reached for the same memory and came up with different versions.

You were sitting at the kitchen table, an untouched dinner growing cold between you. Dina had just gotten back from a long patrol, and you’d cooked her favorite—curry with a soft-boiled egg, rice sticky and steaming in the little ceramic bowl she always chose. She smiled when she came in, kissed your cheek, but her shoulders stayed heavy. You could tell she hadn’t really been there all evening.

You tried to coax her back. Told her about the stupid thing that happened at the greenhouse, the way the goat had gotten loose and knocked over a barrel of compost. You laughed. She didn’t. She was distracted, rubbing her thumb against the side of her mug like she was counting something invisible.

“You remember the summer after the blizzard?” you asked, desperate for something to tether you both back to softness. “When we got caught in that rainstorm, and we made that tent with the tarp and the chairs and just stayed there listening to the thunder?”

Her eyes flicked up to yours, brow furrowed slightly.

“That wasn’t after the blizzard,” she said. “That was before. We didn’t even have the tarp yet—we were using those shitty sheets from Joel’s place, remember?”

You hesitated. “No, I’m pretty sure it was after. The ground was still frozen.”

Dina smiled, but there was an ache behind it. “Maybe. Doesn’t matter.”

But it did.

Because if the memory was fraying, what else was?

You both went quiet again. You tried to eat. She picked at her rice. You stared out the window at the orchard behind the house, the branches bare now, skeletal and sharp in the moonlight.

When she spoke again, her voice was soft. Careful.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said. “Maybe I should move back in with Jesse for a while.”

You felt something drop low in your chest. “What?”

“Just for a bit,” she added quickly. “Not—god, not like a thing. I just… I feel like we’re always missing each other lately. And I don’t want to start resenting you because of that.”

You nodded slowly, but your throat was tight. “You already do, a little.”

She closed her eyes.

“Not you,” she whispered. “Not really. I just… I miss how easy it used to be. And now everything feels like something we have to try at. Like I’m walking around with my hands out, waiting to bump into something solid.”

“I know,” you said. And you did. “I feel it too.”

She looked at you, and you could see it—how much she loved you. Still. How hard this was for her. How hard she was trying not to let it be harder.

“Do you think we stopped choosing each other?” you asked, the question catching in your throat.

Her answer was quiet. “I think we got tired. I think we tried. And I think we’re still trying, even now. But maybe the thing we’re trying to keep alive doesn’t look like us anymore.”

You reached across the table. She took your hand. Warm, solid. Familiar.

“I don’t want to hate this,” you whispered. “I don’t want to ruin what we were by dragging it out until we resent each other.”

She nodded. “Me neither.”

You stayed like that for a long time—hands clasped between half-eaten dinner, the air between you aching with all the things you wouldn’t say. No shouting. No blaming. Just that slow, silent crumbling.

Later, you lay beside her in bed for the last time, the ceiling above you glowing faint with starlight. She turned into your chest like she always had, her breath hot against your neck.

“I want to remember us like this,” she said.

“You will.”

The next morning, she packed a single bag. Left her favorite sweater on the hook by the door. Told you to keep the plant in the window. Said she knew you’d take care of it.

You didn’t cry when she left. Not until the sound of her boots on the porch faded into quiet, and the house began to feel too big for your heartbeat.

Even then, the tears didn’t come all at once.

They came like everything else with her.

Slowly. Softly.

With love still in them.

The day you decided to go back wasn’t planned.

You’d been sitting in your quiet apartment, the one still scattered with echoes of her—her mug on the windowsill, the faded patch on the couch where she’d rest her feet—and the ache was sharp and constant. You kept your fingers tracing the edges of the photo on your fridge, the one from that last summer you spent together, golden light spilled over both your faces like it was trying to hold you in place.

Something inside you stirred—a quiet urge to see the orchard again, the place where you and Dina had watched fireflies flicker like stolen stars.

You pulled on your boots and wrapped your jacket tight against the crisp air, even though the sun was still warm. The path was familiar but tangled now, overgrown where the grasses had taken over. Your breath came out in little clouds, and every step felt like coming home and leaving home all at once.

You reached the tree where you’d carved your initials once, just shy of the bark’s roughness, a mark of “us” that was innocent and hopeful. The letters were faded, some chipped away by time and weather, but still there. Like memories—some clearer than others, but always there.

You pulled your journal from your bag, the one you’d kept since those first days with Dina. You flipped past pages filled with notes, sketches, song lyrics you’d both laughed over. Your fingers stopped on the last entry you’d written together, a half-finished poem about light breaking through cracks.

You read it again, slowly.

“Love isn’t always forever. Sometimes it’s a moment stretched wide. A story that changes shape but stays beautiful. Sometimes, the best part of love is learning who you are when it’s over.”

You closed the book and let the words settle inside you like a soft hand on your chest.

The orchard stretched out before you, branches waving gently in the breeze, no longer just a place of what was, but a place of what is and what will be.

You pulled your jacket tighter, smiling softly. Not bitter, not broken—just whole, in a different way.

It’s okay, you thought, to love and lose. To hold and let go.

Because sometimes, that’s what love looks like.

And sometimes, that’s enough.

[plounce]

rob plounce's ffxiv fic reclist

this will update as i continue to find stuff i enjoy. (it also exists as a page on my desktop blog!)

disclaimer: this is just stuff i’ve read that i’ve enjoyed! i have my own favorite characters and pairings, so my reclist skews heavily towards those. i’m not super into in wolshipping, so there won’t be much of that, sorry! i have not read everything in every pairing and character tag, so don’t take this as a comprehensive guide. these are just things that i liked and think are worth reading.

fics are noted with wordcount, pairing (or as gen), and rating (e = explicit). * means it's been recently added to the list.

spoilers ahoy!

scions

flight of an anorak (17k+, G) gen - urianger childhood backstory fic with transfem urianger! incredibly well-characterized urianger narration. breaks my heart (due to Baby Sadness) and brings a smile to my face (due to Baby Joy) with every update.

lost and found (8.8k, T). gen, light moenuri - you know how moenbryda’s parents basically adopted urianger after they basically abandoned him? this fic is about that. also urianger autism :)

while eating (2.2k, G) gen - more baby autistic urianger with bastard parents. sob. at least moenbryda’s parents are there.

foster (1k, G) gen - pre-canon, thancred overhears fourchenault and louisoix talking about him.

second impression (4.8k, T) gen - fourchenault is a bit more of a classist bastard than in canon and is a dick to thancred, but gets past it. mostly. thancred does his best.

the stars in their abundance (2.7k, T) gen - pre-canon from the perspective of g'raha’s mom in corvos!

cross (1.1k, G) gen - minfilia and thancred clean up the mess of thancred’s possession.

your song, carried onwards (4.9k, G) gen - thancred’s rescue of alisaie from the WoD in the hvw patches.

a stranger in the woods (4.3k, E) thancred/marcechamp - you know, the guy from tailfeather in heavensward? they hook up. thancred gets taken care of.

dust in your eyes (8.8k, T). background ships include wolchefant, wolcred, and haurchefant/urianger, but is mostly about thancred being a sad bastard who is always too slow, too late, and trying to be his best self but not totally succeeding. and haurchefant being a great guy. good character stuff.

how massive is the spirit in us (2.2k, G) gen - ryne character introspection… makes my heart hurt.

testing the waters (1.8k, G) gen - thancred teaches ryne to swim.

the shimmering light (2k, G) gen, light thanuri - urianger settling into the bookman’s shelves. fun il mheg worldbuilding.

almost crystal, almost ascian (10k, T) gen - minfilia and the exarch meet up a few times over the course of a century. their parallelisms. the horror of being “minfilia.”

off the hook, provisionally (974, G) gen - y'shtola talks to the exarch in the wake of 5.0 about his deception.

among the shelves (5k, G). gen - the twins and ryne hang out and talk about the other scions.

portentous news (842, G) gen - urianger’s first morning on the moon in the middle of endwalker.

adventures in unlikely friendship (23k, T) gen - wol+cred friendship! i really like these. the bozja one is delightful. passively-suicidal bestiessss

void parsley sojourn (4k, T) gen, light thanuri - urianger hotboxes the rising stones. very charming depiction of urianger as a weed nerd. makes me laugh and smile every time i read it!

there is (maybe) an ascian among us (11k, T) gen, minor side pairings - post-endwalker, the scions try to get to the bottom of a conspiracy about thancred, who just wants to grill for gods sake! comedy.

two scions walks into a bar… (26k, T) gen, but eventually thanuri - a series where the author intended to just analyze and write about thancred & urianger’s relationship as gen, but then slid into shipping lmao. covers ARR-early STB with a bit of post-SHB. great character work for both of them!

respite, despite (25k, T) thanuri - urianger pining from pre-5.0 to the close of endwalker… good pining, good urianger misery, good romance. wagh!

erasing all the lines in the sand (30k, E) thanuri - mutual pining, miscommunication, coparenting! bookman’s shelves fic.

(in parantheses) (9.9k, M) thanuri - thancred's rescuing of minfilia, time in the first, and the mental stress that emet-selch gives him due to ascian trauma during shadowbringers. also getting together with urianger.

sleepy-eyed soldier (4.6k, M) thanuri - elidibus puppetting ardbert's body brings thancred’s ptsd over having his body used by lahabrea roaring back to the surface in the form of nightmares and hypervigilance. (mind the CWs)

trouble in paradise (2.3k, E) thanuri - transfem urianger!!!! :D :D :D great kind-of-an-asshole thancred character work. hurting each other but trying to fix it.

sole conundrum (412, G) thanuri - pre-edw garlemald scouting mission. urianger autism :D

three of swords reversed (3.2k, T) thanuri, moenuri - urianger dealing with grief over moenbryda and thancred in the later half of endwalker.

another sunrise (5.8k, T) thanuri - post-edw wanderings - urianger deals with a mystery, sudden solitude, and a crisis of doubt! ends happily.

take root in this barren soil (and grow back stronger) (7.4k, E) thanuri - thancred shares what the training regimen of a sharlayan spy entails, not expecting urianger to react so strongly.

to wander is a dream (46k, M) thanuri - post-edw. i don’t tend to enjoy hanahaki fics but this fic is so so so good. thancred being an emotionally stunted asshole, urianger being the world’s most beautiful martyr (for better or for worse), lots of fae stuff, both of them struggling to not be repressed.

why do we forbear? (9.3k, E) thanuri - modern au fake dating, which would usually not appeal to me but this one’s real cute. (currently unfinished)

to care for those we love (11k, T) ryne and her parents, thanuri - ryne drags thancred to the bookman’s shelves and does her best to administer first aid in urianger’s absence. each chapter is from one of the trio’s pov - i’m usually not super into 1st person, but this fic uses it really effectively in imparting each character’s mindset. it’s very sweet!

*to care for those we love (11k, T) waters family, thanuri - ryne drags thancred to the bookman’s shelves and does her best to administer first aid in urianger’s absence. each chapter is from one of the trio’s pov - i’m usually not super into 1st person, but this fic uses it really effectively in imparting each character’s mindset. it’s very sweet!

*an ordeal, shared (6.1k, T) waters family + minor rynegaia & thanuri - canon divergent au where FRU happened and ryne was possessed by mitron. ryne deals with the psychological aftereffects of possession, and she and thancred go on a camping trip.

*waters of thanalan (78k, M) wolcred + thanuri + wolgraha - thancred accompanies a miqo wol back home to visit his family after endwalker. probably THE BEST thancred characterization ive ever read, bar none. just a great perspective on his neuroses and flaws and how unreliable a narrator he can be. great seeker worldbuilding as well. (also, transfem urianger!!)

ancients

on call (2.5k, T) hythades - emet-selch goes out of town, and hyth is asked to step in for a soul-seeing duty. and he futzes with emet-selch’s office.

mail run (840, G) hythades - “A young archival intern keeps finding completely legitimate reasons to do all the deliveries to a very specific Bureau of the Architect clerk. For no reason at all.” young love!

as stars to a sky (1.8k, T) hythades - little vignettes about life in the pre-sundered world.

the seat of destruction (13k, M) hythades - canon-divergent au where hythlodaeus is the one to take the seat of emet-selch, and the sundering still happens. my favorite ascian!hyth work.

affective memory (9.3k, T) hythades - pov from the shade of hythlodaeus as he wanders around emet-selch’s reconstructed amaurot.

for good health and opportunity (14k, T) pre-emetexarch - emet-selch visits the crystal exarch numerous times over the course of a century. frenemies!

*sonnet 116 (6.3k, T/M) hythazem + hythades + venazem - dysfunction junction in the ancient world. divorce abounds. kind of gave me emet-selch advanced misogyny brainworms. transfem hyth!

other characters

“nero tol scaeva did nothing wrong”… (5k, G) gen - a bunch of job npcs try to arrest nero for driving without a license. goes about as well as you might think.

biohazard (1.1k, G) gen - nero hates valens’ ass. not because he has “morals” or anything he just thinks valens is a dogshit project manager.

left in the dust (3.9k, T?) cidnero - ARR nero finds amnesiac marques working in the lichyard. miserable little man.

adrift in memory’s fog (16k, T) cidnero - cid’s frequent bouts of amnesia have led to a patchy memory - enough where he forgets that he and nero were betrothed as teenagers. (trans cid!)

the troubled envoy (1.3k, T) gen - maxima’s diary entries during the stormblood patches, including his thoughts on his weird boss.

the last abandonment (1.9k, M) gen - maxima wanders the ruins of garlemald and reflects on his time in the garlean left. by the same author as above - i really rec all their maxima fics.

this cathedral where your face stains the windows (2k, G) ysayle/igeyrohm - “Someone had to teach Ysayle summoning.” great ysayle heresy stuff + toxic yuri.

this blessed day (80k, M) gen - lucia’s journey from a captured garlean spy to aymeric’s right hand. lucia……

cadavre exquis (6.4k, T) gen - emmanellain helps pack up haurchefant’s things at camp dragonhead ft ishgardian homophobia and an underground queer zine scene.

the lantern jar (19k, T) cirisadu - OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDD. this fic is so good. cirina and sadu growing close. lots of development of steppe spiritual traditions and beliefs.

duet (13k, T) estivrtra - estinien encourages vrtra to live more fully as a dragon. cool dragon stuff.

a view of you (14k, M) estivrtra - estinien gets fatally wounded, and vrtra keeps him alive via a great sacrifice (sadly unfinished, but what’s there is a great read)

veteran advisor (15k, E) vrtra/estinien/gaius - really great gaius character work here where he and allie are on vacation in radz-at-han, and the impact that has on both of them. but also? it's mostly about big!varshahn getting railed. good for him!

this home wrested forth (2.5k, T) gen - sidurgu from DRK quests and alaqa from WHM quests meet up and deal with some gridanian wrongdoing.

a fervent desire (111k+, E) sanson/guydelot - an incredibly in-depth retelling of the BRD quests. great work developing these characters and giving them really in-depth motivations!

and love you shall find (9.8k, E) sanson/guydelot - BRD quests, but what if sanson journals as an accommodation for short-term memory loss?

there are also... my own ffxiv fics. if you so choose to peruse.

[winxanity-ii]

⌜Knot in Time | Chapter 00 Chapter 00 |  Blurb⌟

╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝

❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Knowledge of EPIC: The Musical isn't technically needed; this can be read with just common knowledge of Greek mythology.

❝Stay.❞

It was a whisper, barely spoken, but it hit like a blade to the ribs.

Your breath shuddered.

His eyes glistened, unshed tears pooling at the edges, his emotions raw and unmasked.

❝Stay by my side,❞ he breathed, his voice cracking. ❝For the rest of time.❞

Your fingers twitched at your sides.

You shouldn't hesitate.

You'd spent your existence moving forward without question, without pause; always knowing what must be done.

But here, in the silence of the Loom, with his hands pressed to your skin, with his plea hanging between you like an offering, you realized—

You'd never had a choice before.

Fate wasn't something you chose.

It was something that is.

Yet here was Telemachus, asking you, the one who wields the shears, the one who had ended lives without question, to defy everything you are—

To choose him.

..... ... ..... ━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━ ..... ... .....

To cut a thread is simple.

To leave one uncut is chaos.

But for the first time in eternity, you don't care.

You were born to sever lives, to keep fate in motion. Never to hesitate. Never to choose.

Until him.

Telemachus, son of Odysseus—warrior, prince, and the man whose thread should have been cut weeks ago.

A single hesitation. A single choice.

But here's the truth no one ever considered:

Even the Fates were woven from something; and maybe—just maybe—they, too, can unravel.

..... ... ..... ━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━ ..... ... .....

╭─↬ ❗𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆❗ ↫─╮ There will be mentions/descriptive scenes of the following:

╭ ⁞ ❏. Death ┊

🔺 Reader Discretion Advised.

Lol, I don't know if I got them all, so if you see anything I didn't list, come back and comment right here so I can add them to the list later ➡

Also, before you start, if you're new here, welcome! But if you're a returning reader/came from my other books, hi babies 🥹❤️ Enjoy (•͈˽•͈)

A/N: SCREECHING, SOBBING, THROWING MYSELF INTO THE SEA—WHAT IS HAPPENING?!?!?

Y'ALL. TWO. BOOKS. OVER. 100K. VIEWS. ON WATTPAD. WTF. WTF. WTF.

THIS IS NOT REAL LIFE.

Wattpad was literally the first platform I ever read and wrote on—like, baby me was out here devouring fanfics and original works at 2AM on a cracked phone screen, practically vibrating from excitement every time I found a good fic.

And now?? NOW I HAVE TWO BOOKS THAT PASSED 100K READS???? ON THE VERY PLATFORM THAT MADE ME FALL IN LOVE WITH STORYTELLING?!?!?

Y'all are too much. TOO. MUCH. (And by too much, I mean I love you all deeply and will fight Zeus himself for you.)

So, as a tiny thank-you for all the love and chaos, I present to you: "A Knot in Time"—a 10-chapter short story I finished weeks ago featuring Telemachus and a Fate-who-should-not-love-but-does-anyway.

It's slow-burn, introspective, and built on steady, lingering tension, because I wanted to write romance the way I personally understand it. Sooo if you're the type who likes instant love, jumping straight into things, and getting to the spice ASAP... yeah, this fic ain't it, bestie (but no worries, I have projects in the drafts more up that lane). 💀💀

But if you're here for a Greek-myth style tragedy-turned-love story about a man who should have died and the woman who was meant to end him... buckle in.

Hope y'all enjoy. And thank you, again, for making my inner bookworm FREAK THE HELL OUT. 🖤

Also, I'm working on a new update for both 'Know No Evil' and 'Godly Things' and oh! Y'all are in for a ride 😮‍💨

[planet-marz1]

Is It Over Now?

Summary: Still reeling from Joel's revelation, you find solace in someone new. Pairing: Joel x F!Reader Word Count: ~7.1k

Tags/Warnings:18+MDNI no use of y/n, jackson!joel, established relationship, angst, somewhat? happy ending, infidelity, joel just kinda sucks honestly,alcohol consumption, implied smut (not with joel), lots of joel tears, pet names (sweetheart), jealousy, insecurities, self doubt, reader is in her healing era, reader slaps a bitch (it's deserved, I swear)

A/N: Hi! This is the second, and final part of this series, though I have a few more drabbles & oneshots planned to write and post. This is dedicated to my love @kajashe 💗 and thank you to my beloved @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for beta reading this for me! and yet another thank you to all of my friends who listened to me ramble on about this for the past several days in discord 💜

beautiful dividers by @/saradika

follow my fic updates blog @planetmarz1-notifs

| part i | series masterlist | main masterlist |

The passing weeks were a blur of emotional turmoil and quiet introspection. The once-familiar routines of life felt like a distant memory, replaced by a persistent ache that accompanied every moment of solitude. Your days were marked by the slow process of healing, a journey undertaken one painful step at a time.

Joel had respected your request for space, retreating to the refuge of his brother Tommy's home. The absence of his presence in your shared space only served as a constant reminder of the void that had opened up in your life. Jackson carried on with its daily rhythm, oblivious to the personal upheaval that had unfolded within its walls.

Nights were the hardest. The quiet darkness seemed to amplify the echoes of the past, and sleep became an elusive visitor. The couch where you had waited for Joel that fateful night became a throne of solitude, the cushions bearing silent witness to the nights spent wrestling with the fragments of a broken heart.

In moments of vulnerability, you allowed yourself to revisit the memories of the life you had built together. Photographs adorned the walls, frozen moments in time that now carried the weight of bittersweet nostalgia. The laughter, the shared dreams, and the quiet moments of connection—all now tainted by the knowledge of his betrayal.

The settlement's whispers reached your ears—a mix of sympathy, curiosity, and the well-intentioned attempts of friends trying to fill the void left by Joel's absence. Their concern was palpable, but the wounds were still fresh, the healing a slow and arduous process.

Alone in the quiet living room, the remnants of your shattered relationship lingered like ghosts in the air. The moon cast a cold glow through the window, illuminating the space where the truth had been laid bare. The weight of Joel's confession hung heavy in the room, and you were left grappling with a mix of emotions that threatened to consume you.

You sat on the couch, staring into the darkness outside, your mind racing to make sense of the betrayal. Every corner of the room seemed to echo with the whispers of the life you thought you knew, now tainted by the harsh reality of Joel's infidelity.

The silence was deafening, broken only by the distant sounds of the settlement outside. You replayed the moments leading up to this revelation, searching for signs you might have missed, clues that could have prepared you for the storm that had now engulfed your relationship.

The ache in your chest deepened, and you could feel the hot prickle of tears threatening to spill over. Anguish, betrayal, and confusion mingled in a tumultuous storm within you. You wanted answers, an explanation that could somehow make sense of the wreckage now surrounding you.

The clock on the wall ticked away the seconds, marking the passage of time in a world that suddenly felt unfamiliar. As you sat there in the quiet, you wondered how the foundation of your life had crumbled so swiftly, like sand slipping through your fingers.

Outside, the settlement continued its slumber, blissfully unaware of the personal cataclysm unfolding within your home. You needed time to process the truth, to navigate the emotional minefield that now lay before you.

The door creaked open, and Joel stepped back into the room, his eyes filled with regret. The air tensed as he hesitated, unsure of his place in this shattered reality. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice heavy with the weight of the words.

You looked up, your eyes meeting his. The distance between you felt insurmountable, a vast chasm that had opened up in the wake of his betrayal. "I need time to figure this out," you said, your voice steady despite the tempest of emotions within you.

Joel nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the consequences he had brought upon himself. As he left the room again, the door closing softly behind him, you were left alone with the wreckage of a love that had weathered countless storms, only to be undone by the tempest within.

So here you are now, at the Tipsy Bison, with its low hum of conversations and the comforting clink of glasses, served as a temporary escape from the turmoil within. The dimly lit bar offered a semblance of solace, a place to drown the sorrows that had become constant companions.

You sat alone at the bar, nursing a drink, the amber liquid reflecting the flickering candlelight. The weight of recent events lingered, a heavy burden you sought to momentarily cast aside. The soft music in the background provided a melancholic soundtrack to the evening.

As you stared into the depths of your drink, Noah took the seat next to you—a familiar face in the crowd, someone you'd seen around the settlement but never really paid much attention to. His attempts at small talk were met with your usual indifference. In the past, your loyalty to Joel had been unwavering, and the idea of entertaining advances from others never crossed your mind.

Tonight, however, the rules had shifted. The wounds of heartbreak were still raw, and the empty space beside you echoed the absence of a familiar presence. Noah persisted, undeterred by your initial disinterest.

"Rough night?" he asked, a half-smile playing on his lips.

You looked at him, a mixture of exhaustion and pain in your eyes. "You could say that."

Noah nodded, understanding glinting in his eyes. "Sometimes a drink is the only company we've got."

A subtle smile played on your lips as you reciprocated his banter. "Seems like you're here for more than just the drinks."

He chuckled, a warmth in his voice. "Well, it's not every night I get to share the bar with someone as intriguing as you, sweetheart"

The dance of flirtation continued, the bar becoming a stage where you and Noah played out a scene of shared laughter and camaraderie. The soft music provided a backdrop to the banter, a temporary escape from the weight that had settled on your shoulders.

Noah leaned in, his voice a low murmur. "You know, I've seen you around, but we've never really talked. What brings you here tonight?"

You sighed, a moment of vulnerability slipping through. "Just trying to forget for a little while, I guess."

He nodded, his gaze thoughtful. "Sometimes, a little distraction is all we need."

As the night wore on, the boundaries between reality and the fleeting connection blurred. Noah became a temporary ally in a battle against the memories that threatened to engulf you. In the shadows of the Tipsy Bison, you allowed yourself a momentary escape, a reprieve from the heartache that still clung to the edges of your world.

The hours passed in a haze of shared stories and laughter. Noah proved to be an unexpected source of comfort, his presence a balm to the wounds that had yet to fully heal. The Tipsy Bison became a refuge, a sanctuary where, for a brief moment, the weight of heartbreak was lifted.

As the night progressed, Noah's conversation turned more earnest, his gaze holding a sincerity that resonated with you. "You know," he said, his voice softened by the dim ambiance of the bar, "Sometimes it helps to talk about what's going on. You don't have to carry it all alone."

The vulnerability in his words echoed the vulnerability you had been avoiding. The temptation to open up, to share the burden, tugged at the edges of your restraint. "It's just been a tough time," you admitted, a hint of gratitude in your voice.

Noah nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. "I get that. Life has a way of throwing curveballs when we least expect it."

The moment stretched, the connection between you deepening. The bar, once a backdrop for distraction, now felt like a space where two people navigating the complexities of life found common ground.

As the night neared its end, Noah leaned in, his voice a whisper. "I'm not an expert in fixing things, but if you ever need someone to listen, I'm here."

His sincerity resonated, and you nodded appreciatively. "Thank you, Noah. It means more than you know."

The Tipsy Bison, with its flickering lights and the hum of conversations, witnessed a different side of you that night—a side that embraced vulnerability and sought solace in unexpected places. As you parted ways, the weight on your shoulders felt a bit lighter, and the bar's exit became a threshold to a world where healing, though uncertain, seemed a little more attainable.

The night air felt cool as you and Noah stepped out of the bar, the soft glow from the neon sign casting a gentle halo around you. The settlement slept in the quiet darkness, oblivious to the shared moments of connection that had unfolded within the bar's walls.

The walk back to your house was a journey through silent streets, the hushed conversations between you and Noah punctuated by the occasional rustle of leaves in the night breeze. The weight of the evening's revelations lingered, but in Noah's company, it felt less burdensome.

As you approached the front door, you turned to him, a newfound warmth in your eyes. "Do you want to come in? Maybe have another drink?" The invitation hung in the air, a testament to the unexpected bond that had formed between you.

Noah's response was a gentle smile "I'd like that," he said, his voice carrying a sense of genuine camaraderie.

The door opened with a soft creak, and the familiar comfort of your home greeted you both. The living room, once a witness to heartache, now seemed to hold the promise of shared moments and tentative healing.

You settled on the couch, the echoes of the night's laughter still lingering. The air felt charged with the unspoken, a connection that transcended the confines of mere friendship. As you poured another round of drinks, the silence between you felt comfortable, a space where words were unnecessary.

Noah's eyes met yours, and in that shared gaze, there was an understanding that words could not fully capture. The vulnerability of the evening had laid bare the complexities of your heart, and Noah, in his quiet way, seemed to offer a respite from the storm.

As the night unfolded, the connection deepened. Laughter, shared stories, and the gentle ebb and flow of conversation filled the room. In that unexpected companionship, you found solace—a reminder that, even in the aftermath of heartbreak, there were still moments of connection waiting to be discovered.

The time you two had spent together at the bar had been a catalyst for change, and now, in the quietude of your home, you allowed the night to unfold, unsure of where it might lead but grateful for the warmth that had found its way into the cracks of a wounded heart.

The ambiance in the room shifted subtly, the air thickening with a newfound energy that danced between you and Noah. The shared laughter and easy conversation took on a softer note, and the space on the couch seemed to shrink, drawing you both closer.

You caught Noah's gaze lingering, his eyes holding a warmth that went beyond mere camaraderie. The flickering candlelight cast a gentle glow on his features, highlighting the sincerity in his eyes. A charged silence settled between you, one that spoke volumes without the need for words.

As you sipped your drinks, the magnetic pull of the moment intensified. The shared vulnerability of the evening had forged a connection that transcended the ordinary, and in the quietude of the living room, the boundaries between friendship and something more blurred.

Noah's fingers traced absentminded patterns on the rim of his glass, and his gaze met yours with a subtle intensity. The unspoken tension hung in the air, a delicate dance that neither of you seemed eager to disrupt.

The air seemed to hum with anticipation as you leaned in, drawn by an invisible force that defied explanation. The room held its breath, and in that suspended moment, your lips brushed against each other in a gentle, tentative kiss.

Time seemed to stand still as the kiss deepened, the warmth of Noah's touch sending a current of electricity through you. The weight of heartbreak momentarily lifted, replaced by the promise of something new, something uncharted.

You don’t care about anything else but losing yourself in the feeling of being loved even if just for tonight. As the passion between you continues to escalate with each passing second, all thoughts of tomorrow fade away into oblivion leaving only this one perfect moment stretching out endlessly before the two of you like an eternal embrace.

The air in your home was filled with a mix of holiday scents — the piney aroma of the Christmas tree, the faint whiff of cinnamon from the candles scattered around the room. It was Christmas Eve, and the settlement was adorned with festive lights and decorations.

You stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of the deep green dress you had chosen for the occasion. Despite the outward festivities, a quiet melancholy clung to you, a reminder of the heartbreak that still lingered beneath the surface.

As you finished getting ready, the soft knock on the door signaled Noah's arrival. His presence, a comforting constant in the weeks that followed that unexpected encounter, had become a source of solace. Tonight, however, the prospect of a Christmas party loomed, and the idea of celebrating seemed to clash with the healing wounds of your past.

Noah entered, a warm smile on his face as he took in your appearance. "You look stunning," he remarked, his eyes reflecting a mixture of admiration and concern.

You managed a small smile in return, the weight of your unspoken thoughts evident in your eyes. "Thanks, Noah. I'm just not sure I'm in the festive mood, you know?"

He approached and gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "I understand. But Maria insisted, and maybe being around people, even for a little while, might help."

Reluctantly, you nodded, acknowledging the truth in his words. Maria had been a steadfast presence in your life, offering support and encouragement as you navigated the aftermath of heartbreak. Tonight's Christmas party was her attempt to bring a glimmer of joy into your world.

Together, you and Noah made your way through the decorated streets toward the town center. The settlement buzzed with festive energy — laughter, music, and the scent of holiday treats wafting through the air. As you approached the venue, the warm glow of lights spilled from the windows, casting a welcoming glow.

The Christmas Eve party in town was in full swing, with the warm glow of lights and the spirited energy of the season enveloping the settlement. As you navigated the festive atmosphere with Noah at your side, the subtle shift in your mood was palpable. The healing process was slow, but the comfort of friends and the shared moments of celebration were working their magic.

As you entered the bustling venue, your eyes caught a familiar figure across the room — Joel. Time seemed to freeze for a moment, the shock of seeing him after weeks of absence coursing through your veins. His presence cast a shadow over the festive scene, and the room suddenly felt smaller, the air heavier with unspoken history.

Noah sensed your tension, his grip on your hand tightening in a silent reassurance. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern etched across his face.

You nodded, attempting to mask the surprise that rippled beneath the surface. "Yeah, I just… I didn't expect to see him here."

Noah glanced toward Joel, his expression thoughtful. "Do you want to leave? We can go somewhere quieter."

You considered the offer, but something in you resisted the impulse to retreat. "No, let's stay. I need to face this."

Together, you and Noah approached the gathering. As Joel noticed your presence, his eyes met yours, a mix of surprise and a hint of remorse flickering in his gaze. The air crackled with the unspoken tension of past wounds and unanswered questions.

Maria, ever perceptive, approached, greeting you with an exuberant hug, her eyes filled with warmth and understanding. Her warm smile faltered as she sensed the dynamics at play. "I didn't know he would be here. I'm sorry if this is uncomfortable for you."

You offered a tight smile, the weight of the situation settling around you. "It's okay, Maria. I can handle it."

The party unfolded with the spirited energy of the season — people dancing, laughter filling the air, and the exchange of heartfelt wishes. As you moved through the festivities, Noah's hand found yours, a subtle reassurance in the midst of the crowd.

The night progressed, and despite your initial hesitations, a subtle shift occurred. The music, the laughter, and the shared moments with friends began to chip away at the walls around your heart. The healing process was ongoing, and in the company of those who cared, the weight of heartbreak felt a little lighter.

A moment of stillness settled over the room. In that quiet pause, your eyes met Joel's once more. The unspoken history, the shattered pieces of a relationship, and the complexity of emotions were etched in that shared gaze. Noah's hand found yours again, a grounding force amidst the emotional storm.

As you navigated the remainder of the Christmas party, the unspoken tension with Joel remained, but in the company of friends and the warmth of the season, you found solace. The dance of emotions continued, and as the night unfolded, you carried with you a newfound resilience, a testament to the strength found in facing the unexpected and the hope that lingers in the aftermath of heartbreak.

Amidst the swirl of holiday festivities, your eyes inadvertently caught a glimpse of Veronica across the room. Her presence, unexpected yet inevitable in a close-knit settlement, stirred a complex mix of emotions within you. As she engaged in conversation with others, a subtle ache of self-doubt crept into your thoughts.

What did she have that made Joel cheat on me with her?

The question lingered, not born out of jealousy, but rather a yearning for understanding. The doubts festered like quiet shadows in the corners of your mind, threatening to overshadow the celebratory atmosphere.

Noah sensed the shift in your demeanor, his grip on your hand tightening as a silent gesture of support. "You okay?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

You forced a small smile, attempting to dispel the doubts that threatened to cloud the festive evening. "Yeah, just unexpected seeing her here, you know?"

Noah nodded in understanding, his gaze a reassuring anchor in the sea of emotions. "You're stronger than you think. Remember that."

As you continued to navigate the party, the glimpses of Veronica sparked moments of introspection. The dance of doubt and self-reflection unfolded, but amidst it all, a deeper truth emerged — the strength to confront insecurities and the resilience to rise above the echoes of past heartbreak.

Joel remained on the periphery, a figure in the background of the unfolding drama. The unspoken tension with Veronica echoed the complexities of relationships, and in the midst of the holiday cheer, you found a quiet resolve to focus on the present and the connections that mattered most.

As the party continued, a lingering curiosity pulled you toward Veronica. The desire for closure and understanding overshadowed the self-doubt that had surfaced. The pulsating beat of the Christmas music seemed to align with the tension in the air as you approached Veronica. The crowd hushed in the wake of your confrontation, and even the festive decorations couldn't quite drown out the charged atmosphere.

This is it, you thought, your fists clenched by your sides. Time to confront the source of this mess. "Veronica," you said, your voice edged with a simmering anger. "We need to talk."

She turned, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Well, look who decided to show up. Didn't think I'd see you here."

Hold it together, you reminded yourself, swallowing the initial surge of rage. She's not worth it. Ignoring the jab, you pressed on. "Cut the crap. What happened between you and Joel?"

Veronica chuckled, a snarky glint in her eyes. "Why don't you ask him? I'm sure he's got his version of the story."

Like I haven't already tried, you thought, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. But I want to hear it from her.Your patience wore thin, and a flash of anger ignited. "I'm asking you. What did you think you were doing?"

Veronica rolled her eyes, an unapologetic tone lacing her words. "Oh, please. Don't act clueless in all of this. Joel and I, we had our reasons."

Reasons? The word echoed in your mind, a bitter taste settling on your tongue. The retort stung, and you shot back,"What reasons could there possibly be to betray someone like that?"

Keep her on the defensive, you urged yourself. Make her face the consequences of her actions.

Veronica's smirk persisted, her snarky demeanor unyielding. "Maybe you should ask Joel what he was missing at home."

No. Don't let her deflect the blame. The anger surged again, a tempest threatening to consume reason.

The words hung in the air, a venomous revelation that fueled the anger within. The crowd around you seemed to blur as the confrontation intensified, each word exchanged an arrow that pierced through the facade of festive cheer. 

Everyone knew, you mused bitterly. The whole damn town knew you and Joel were together.

As the exchange reached its peak, the energy between you and Veronica crackled with unresolved emotions. The pulsating beat of the music in the background seemed to align with the tension in the air, the crowd still hushed in the wake of your confrontation. Each word exchanged felt like a seismic tremor, shaking the foundations of the festive atmosphere.

"You're unbelievable," you seethed, the anger boiling over. "I hope you're proud of yourself." Stay strong, you reminded yourself, fighting against the torrent of emotions. You've got this.

Veronica shrugged, a nonchalant expression masking any hint of remorse. "I did what I wanted. Life's too short for regrets."

Regrets, the word echoed in your mind. Is she really that callous? Keep it together, you urged yourself, clenching your fists by your sides. Don't let her see how much she's getting to you.

Noah, sensing the escalating tension, remained by your side, a silent pillar of support. The confrontation with Veronica had become a battleground of emotions, a clash between hurt and defiance.

This is it. The moment of truth.

In a flash, the weight of anger, frustration, and betrayal coalesced into a surge of raw emotion. Without a second thought, your hand connected with Veronica's cheek in a resounding slap. The crowd, which had been observing in a stunned silence, erupted into gasps and whispers.

Veronica stumbled back, her hand on her cheek, eyes wide with a mixture of shock and indignation. The slap reverberated through the room, a cathartic release of the pent-up emotions that had been building since the revelation.

"You deserved that," you declared, your voice steady, though your heart pounded with the intensity of the moment.

As Noah guided you away from the charged atmosphere, the weight of the confrontation lingered. The Christmas party resumed its festive cheer, but the encounter with Veronica had become a defining chapter, a moment where you asserted your strength and reclaimed a sense of control in the aftermath of betrayal.

The brisk night air greeted you as you and Noah stepped out of the lively Christmas party. The settlement was adorned with a soft blanket of snow, and the crunch of each footstep echoed in the quiet winter night. The atmosphere outside was a stark contrast to the charged energy that had filled the party just moments before.

Noah kept a reassuring arm around you as you navigated the snowy path toward your house. The silence between you was a comforting one, a respite from the emotional turbulence of the evening. The distant sounds of laughter from the party gradually faded into the serene stillness of the snowy landscape.

The glow of the settlement's lights reflected off the pristine snow, casting a soft illumination on the familiar path. The events of the night lingered in the air, and as you reached your doorstep, you turned to Noah with a mixture of gratitude and exhaustion.

"Thanks for being there," you said, your voice carrying the weight of the emotions that had unfolded.

Noah nodded, his expression filled with understanding. "Anytime. You handled that with a lot of strength."

You managed a small smile, appreciating his support. "I just want to move forward, you know? Leave all this behind."

The snowflakes continued to fall, adding a sense of serenity to the moment. As you opened the door to your home, the warmth inside offered a stark contrast to the chilly night. The familiar surroundings provided a sense of solace, a haven away from the echoes of the confrontation.

The air in the room felt heavy with unspoken tension as you confronted Joel about his infidelity. The harsh reality of betrayal lingered, casting a shadow over the relationship you had thought was secure.

"Why, Joel?" you demanded, your voice a mix of pain and anger. "Who was it? Who did you cheat on me with?"

Joel hesitated, his eyes avoiding yours for a moment before meeting your gaze with a mixture of regret and guilt. "It was Veronica," he confessed, the weight of the revelation hanging in the air.

Veronica's name echoed in your mind, a face from the town, someone you had known, someone whose presence had been intertwined with your life in the settlement. The shock of the revelation was like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, the room seemed to spin.

"Veronica?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. The name felt like a betrayal in itself, a person who had shared the same space as you, someone you had considered a part of the community.

Joel's expression shifted, a mix of remorse and desperation. "I messed up, It wasn't about her. It was about me, about the mistakes I made."

The words did little to ease the pain, and the room became a battleground of conflicting emotions. Anguish, betrayal, and disbelief swirled within you, a storm of feelings that threatened to overwhelm.

As you absorbed the revelation, the weight of the truth settled. Veronica, a name that had been a mere background detail in the tapestry of your life, now held a significance that cut deep. The confrontation with Joel had peeled back the layers of the facade, revealing a reality you had never anticipated.

In the midst of the emotional maelstrom, you took a step back, needing distance to process the harsh truth. The room, once a sanctuary, felt foreign and unwelcoming. The echoes of the revelation hung in the air, and as Joel sought words of apology, you grappled with the shattered pieces of a relationship that had crumbled in the wake of betrayal.

The weight of that night lingered in your thoughts. Veronica's presence, once a casual detail in the fabric of your life, had become a symbol of a painful chapter in your past. The journey of healing continued, marked by the scars of the confrontation and the resolve to move forward, one step at a time.

The soft murmur of pages turning and the hushed whispers of readers created a peaceful ambiance in the small settlement's library. As the librarian, you were engrossed in arranging the shelves when the door creaked open. A tall, rugged man entered, a hint of unfamiliarity etched into the lines of his face.

Joel, a newcomer to the community, you’d seen him around town with a young girl practically attached at his hip. He cast an assessing glance around the room before approaching the counter where you stood. His eyes, weathered and guarded, met yours as he cleared his throat, his voice gruff but not unkind. "I'm lookin' for books about space."

You looked up from your task, offering a warm smile. "Space, huh? Planning a journey to the stars?" you teased, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Joel's lips twitched into a small smile, a rare expression on his usually stoic face. "Not exactly. Got a kid back home who's mighty interested in space. Wants to know everything there is."

Interest sparked in your eyes as you couldn't help but inquire, "Your daughter, then?"

He hesitated, a subtle shift in his gaze, but he didn't correct you. "Yeah, somethin' like that."

Your smile widened. "Well, you've come to the right place. We've got a stellar collection—pun intended."

Joel nodded, a silent acknowledgment of your attempt at humor. "Good to know."

As you led him through the aisles, the conversation flowed easily. He shared stories of Ellie, a girl he watched over, protected, and cared for deeply. The love in his words painted a vivid picture, and when you mentioned how wonderful it was that he and his "daughter" shared such interests, he didn't correct you.

"So, what's her favorite subject?" you asked, your tone playfully nudging towards the unspoken connection.

He chuckled, a soft warmth in his eyes. "Space, definitely. She's got a million questions about stars, planets, you name it."

You grinned, leaning slightly closer. "Well, Joel, it seems you've got a budding astronomer on your hands. Lucky for you, I'm an expert in celestial matters."

Joel's expression remained stoic, but there was a subtle glint of amusement in his eyes. "Is that so?"

You nodded, your gaze meeting his with a hint of mischief. "Absolutely. But my expertise doesn't come cheap. I'll need payment in the form of a good conversation and maybe a coffee sometime."

Joel's chuckle deepened, and a grin tugged at the corners of his lips. "Coffee, huh? You got yourself a deal."

As Joel left the library with a stack of books, you couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth. The door closed behind him, leaving you with the subtle hum of excitement and the gentle echo of playful banter that seemed to linger in the air. The library, once a quiet haven of solitude, now held the promise of a story unfolding—one with celestial wonders and perhaps a touch of romance.

in the quiet moments of reflection, your mind often wandered to the time when you and Joel first met. The memory used to bring a warm smile to your face—the genuine laughter, the shared dreams, the promise of a future entwined with his. But now, each recollection was tainted by the bitter sting of betrayal, and the nostalgia had become a source of pain.

As you sat alone in the dimly lit room, the flickering shadows seemed to mimic the turbulence within your heart. The memory of your first meeting played in your mind like a melancholy film—a reminder of the love that had once been untarnished. The weight of what had transpired since then pressed down on you, leaving a bitter aftertaste to a memory that had once been so sweet.

The soft hum of a distant song, a melody you both used to share, brought a wave of conflicting emotions. Your mind wandered back to that day—the laughter, the stolen glances, the electric feeling of a connection that transcended words. It was a time when you looked into his eyes and felt like you had found something extraordinary.

But now, those memories were haunted by the echoes of his infidelity, and the rose-tinted glasses you once wore shattered, revealing the painful truth beneath. The laughter had become an echo, the glances a cruel reminder, and the connection a frayed thread threatening to unravel.

In the midst of the emotional turmoil, you found yourself thinking, almost wistfully, about what life would have been like if you'd never met Joel. The thought was a bitter pill to swallow, a testament to the depth of the wounds inflicted.

You replayed the scenes of your shared history—the highs and the lows, the joy and the heartbreak. The almost-wish lingered in the recesses of your mind, a testament to the profound impact of betrayal on the once cherished memories.

Joel has shown up at your door, trying to extend a tentative olive branch, an attempt to breach the chasm that had widened between you. His words were carefully chosen, an apology that carried the weight of remorse. He expressed a longing for resolution, a desire to face the consequences of his actions and rebuild what had been lost. “Can I come in?” he says hesitantly, trying to gauge your emotional state.

Reluctantly you nod, and step aside, allowing him into the house.

The weight of Joel's confession hung in the air. The room steeped in a heavy silence, and charged with the weight of unresolved emotions as you and Joel sat facing each other. The revelation of his infidelity with Veronica had unearthed a raw vulnerability. It had left your relationship hanging in the balance.You needed answers that transcended the initial betrayal. You both needed to confront the difficult question of where to go from here.

"Why, Joel?" you questioned, your voice steady but edged with a yearning for understanding. "I get that you were lost, but why did you keep cheating with her after the first time? Why not just admit it to me after it happened once?"

Joel's gaze met yours, his eyes carrying the weight of guilt. He took a moment before responding, as if grappling with his own internal turmoil.

"I didn't know how to face it," he admitted, his voice tinged with regret. "The shame, the guilt—it overwhelmed me. And every time it happened again, the weight of that guilt just grew. I was trapped in a cycle, and I couldn't find a way out."

Your brow furrowed, a mix of frustration and disbelief settling within you. "So, instead of admitting your mistake and trying to make amends, you kept it a secret and continued to betray our relationship?"

Joel nodded, the admission heavy on his conscience. "I thought if I could just stop, if I could find a way to break free from that cycle, I could spare you the pain of knowing. But each time, I failed. It became a vicious cycle I couldn't escape."

The room seemed to close in as the gravity of his words sank in. The cycle of betrayal, a web of lies and shame, had perpetuated itself, leaving both of you ensnared in the consequences.

"But why?" you pressed, your voice a mixture of frustration and sadness. "Why not face the consequences and be honest with me? We could have worked through it together, Joel."

His eyes reflected the internal struggle, a war between the truth and the self-imposed isolation he had subjected himself to. "I was scared. Scared of losing you, scared of facing disappointment. It was a selfish choice, and I see that now."

The admission hung in the air, a painful acknowledgment of the choices that had led to the fracture of trust. The room, once a sanctuary, now felt like a battlefield of emotions.

"So, you kept hurting me to protect yourself," you whispered, the weight of the realization settling on your shoulders.

Joel's gaze remained fixed on the floor, his silence confirming the painful truth. The unraveling of the secrets and the depths of his struggles became a sobering reality, and as you navigated the aftermath of betrayal, the room seemed to echo with the weight of unspoken regrets and the yearning for a path forward.

The room felt like a suffocating space, each revelation adding weight to the heavy air. Joel's admission of infidelity hung between you, a chasm that seemed impossible to bridge. After a moment of tense silence, you found the strength to voice the truth that had been echoing in your heart.

After a moment, you gathered the courage to voice the question that lingered in the room like an unspoken specter. "What now, Joel? What does this mean for us?"

Joel looked up, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of desperation and remorse. "I messed up. I know I can't change the past, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. If you're willing to give me another chance, I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

Your gaze met his, and for a moment, the memories of a time when love flowed effortlessly between you resurfaced. There had been a time when you looked into his eyes and couldn’t imagine a future, a universe, where you didn’t stare into them for eternity. The love you had for him was one like no other, the strongest you’d ever felt for someone, for something.

But now, those eyes hold the weight of betrayal, and the road ahead seems uncertain. You took a deep breath, searching for the right words to navigate the delicate conversation.

The sincerity in his voice tugged at the frayed edges of your heart, but the wounds were fresh, and the scars of betrayal ran deep. The room seemed to hold its breath, awaiting your response.

"I can't, Joel," you said, your voice steady but laced with a profound sadness. "This- 

 It's too much. I can't see a way forward for us."

Joel's eyes pleaded with a mix of regret and desperation, but the gulf between you seemed insurmountable. "I messed up, I know I did, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right."

The sincerity in his voice clashed with the shattered trust, and you shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. "No, Joel. It's not just about saying sorry or making things right. It's not just about the mistake," you began, your voice measured but carrying the depth of your emotions. 

"It's about the trust we had, and that trust has been shattered. This is a betrayal that cuts deep, and I don't think we can come back from it."

His face fell, the weight of realization settling in. "We've been through so much together. Please, don't end us because of one mistake."

The room seemed to close in as you grappled with the heartbreaking decision. "It's not just one mistake, Joel. It's a pattern of choices that shattered the foundation of trust we had. I can't continue a relationship where I constantly question if I'll be cheated on again.”

Joel's eyes glistened with unshed tears, and his voice wavered with a mix of remorse and desperation. "I'll change, I'll do anything to make this right. Just give me a chance."

But the echoes of his pleas couldn't drown out the resolute decision forming in your heart. "I'm sorry, Joel. It's best for both of us to move on. This is too much of a betrayal, and I need to prioritize my own well-being."

As you spoke those words, a heavy silence descended upon the room, punctuating the end of a chapter in your lives. The pain of parting, though agonizing, seemed to carry a semblance of closure. The room, once a space of shared dreams and memories, now bore witness to the painful conclusion of a relationship that had weathered too many storms.

He nodded, a somber acknowledgment of the consequences of his actions. "I know. I never meant to hurt you like this. If I could take it back, I would."

The air in the room hung heavy with the weight of a relationship on the precipice of its demise. Joel's desperate plea for forgiveness echoed in the silence, but the wounds were too fresh, and the trust too shattered to rebuild easily. You took a deep breath, a heaviness settling in your chest.

"Joel," you began, your voice steady but tinged with the pain of realization, "I appreciate your willingness to make amends, but the truth is, I can't see a way forward for us."

His eyes, once a source of comfort and love, now mirrored the anguish of a relationship slipping away. "I messed up, and I understand if you can't forgive me. But please, don't end us like this."

The sincerity in his voice tugged at the frayed edges of your heart, but you knew you couldn’t continue a relationship with him. You met his gaze, a mix of sadness and resolve in your eyes. "Joel, we had something special, something I cherished more than anything. But what we had is broken now. I can't ignore the betrayal, and I can't keep holding onto a past that's been tainted."

He reached for your hand, a desperate attempt to bridge the growing distance between you. "I'm willing to do whatever it takes, anything. I just can't imagine a future without you."

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to be transported back to a time when the future seemed boundless, and his gaze was a promise of forever. There was a time when you looked into his eyes and couldn't imagine a future where he wasn't a central part of it. But now, the love that had once felt unbreakable had shattered, leaving a void you weren't sure could be filled.

"I need to let go, Joel," you said, the weight of those words lingering in the room. "For my own sake, and for yours. We both need a chance to heal and find our own paths forward."

He nodded, a defeated acknowledgment of the reality you both faced. "I never thought we'd come to this," he admitted, his voice heavy with regret.

As the words settled, the room seemed to hold its breath. The love that had once been the anchor of your world now existed as a bittersweet memory. Joel, his gaze lowered, nodded with a heavy understanding.

"I won't forget what we had," he said, his voice breaking slightly. "I'll always love you."

And with that, you uttered the finality that had been hanging between you. "Goodbye, Joel."

The door closed behind him, marking the end of a chapter that had once been a love story. The room, once a sanctuary for shared dreams, now bore witness to the closing of a door that could no longer be left ajar. In the aftermath of goodbye, the echoes of a love that once lingered, a poignant reminder of the fragility of connection and the resilience required to forge a new path forward.

tag list: @pertinentpostmortem @party-hearses @mandoisapunk @bastardmandennis @catchallfangirl @chaotic-mystery @beskarandblasters @amanitacowboy @littlegrungegirlaf @pamasaur @pedrodascal @sweetercalypso @ilovepedro @cool-iguana @pascalpvnk @alwaysmicado @lovers-liability @futuraa-free @morgaussy @pedritoferg @spookykoolkat @wethairjoel @chronically-ghosted @buckyispunk @pattwtf @morning-star-joy @elvinaa @tinycozycomfort @magpiepills @pr0ximamidnight @joelscurls @janaispunk @5oh5 @farmerlarrry @maximoff-forevermore @atinylittlepain @joeldjarin @spookyxsam @honey-dip-24 @hiroikegawa @mcira @mrsmando @hyzer34 @limerence4u @sin-djarin @reddedmiller @joels-shitty-puns @elvinaa

[roseamongroses]

shuriri fic recommendations

By request for the lovely @crunchycerealisgood and anyone else looking for some shuriri fics to read!

Funnily enough I don't read a lot of Shuriri fics since I'm usually writing it, but I still managed to pull together this list. Thank you for the patience!

@idyllicbby has already done a few recommendation lists

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Shuriri week content which includes the playlist, fics/prompts, and fanart

It's sad to see so many deactivated accounts, but a lot of the work is still posted!

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Some of my personal favorite fics are:

Hit Me Up

Sweet, Slow building Post-canon fic. Rated Teen and Up

Heart Remnants

Introspection. Sweet. Post-canon. Teen and up

Self plug ig??? - my own shuriri fics/ hc lists

sad/soft hcs

touch hcs

rapidfire aus

more aus list

unedited, short

burning kisses, shades of gold

sleepy time gays series [ao3]

hold the nose

ur heart beat next to mine

rattling around in there

a lil torn up

stick to the stuff u know

got the whole world in their hands

bare with me

it was slow, it was quiet

pinkie promises

hmn to eternity [ao3]

The Princess & I [1] [2][3][4] [5]

nothing in the world belongs to me, but

flesh, blood, and other human ailments [ao3]

[campbyler]

that thing about the chapters makes total sense yeah! i liked hearing you break down the themes and realisations etc, it's nice to hear meaty info about the creative process and undercurrents in the work alongside the jokier interactive posts you guys usually make!

and we are both aware that we could probably cut certain scenes or events out, but we also are very adamant about maintaining a pace that feels realistic and makes sense, which usually leads to those higher word counts 😙

the word count splitting absolutely makes sense then, too - two halves of a whole. i'm surprised people have complained about wanting you to cut down on actual scenes for word count purposes... i wouldnt want to lose action or scenes themselves! maybe they meant more brevity or succintness? not repeating things that don't add to the narrative as much, etc. because the dialogue between characters is the most exciting part, as it usually is in storytelling! its happening NOW, we're IN IT with these characters, its so compelling compared to description or that famous bane of writers' lives: long recountings of events that happened previously or 'offscreen'.

please don't cut out action scenes and dialogue - i'm thinking of how my heart picked up when mike was waiting for will to get the sparklers, that tension was so well played... and also the final scene of 10.2, how fast mike's realisations moved as he kissed will into the sand. a vast contrast to how long it took to get there - so perhaps your stylistic choice is to slow the pace and draw out that delicious tension by making characters very pedantic and introspective rather than by adding more external action, dialogue, or obstacles that prevent them getting where they want to go. mike and will ARE their own biggest obstacles, it seems. and perhaps this is the vibe you wanted to create; it makes for a story that really feeds into the cloyingness of being stuck in your head and being stuck in one place - camp - no matter how much the boys both love it. the camp itself becomes a crucible for the story, giving the reader themselves something of the same claustrophobic feeling mike and will must have. very meta!

i’m so glad that helped clear things up from our perspective! we like to largely let the fic speak for itself obviously, so we usually refrain from flat out saying what the intention behind certain decisions was, but in the context of asks like this and the og regarding chapter/overall fic structure, it did seem fitting to clarify the purposes of chapters 9 and 10 more specifically so i’m glad everything makes sense! sorry for the absolute beast of an answer that’s going to follow, except for i’m not. teehee

regarding the word count, i don’t think we’ve been told outright that we should cut down on certain scenes to keep the wc lower, aside from maybeeee a comment or two that i can remember remarking on us over-describing or over-narrating things? which is probably true at times but also honestly that’s just me n thea’s writing style, so if there is something really egregious we will likely catch it while editing and otherwise we’ll just let it slide 🤷🏽‍♀️ overall though, i feel like it’s more of an implied thing — since we talk often about chapters taking longer to get out due to our typical 20-30k count, i’m sure a few people have wondered why we choose to include all of the interactions and details that we do. thea did actually give me the push i needed to take out an almost 2k chunk that we both loved but agreed was a little clunky and unnecessary in the context of what was happening, and its removal wasn’t detracting from any characters or relationships or worldbuilding in the chapter. so there are definitely times that we do decide something isn’t important enough to tack on a couple thousand extra words, and we will rectify that when possible!

this also brings me to your point about Long Recountings of Offscreen Events — that’s also something we try really hard to avoid, and when we do want to recount something that happened in the past or offscreen, as is natural for basically every story, we do try to make it feel natural and in the moment, like a character is simply remembering or thinking about something instead of trying to catch the reader up to present day. i LOVEE writing dialogue, maybe too much (i added almost all of the 1700ish words i deleted back again with dialogue. oops) but i completely agree with you in that the In The Moment-ness of it all is what’s most compelling to me as well — writing their reactions as they happen, or adding distinctive mannerisms and thoughts and motions while two or more characters speak.,, ougghh it makes my brain vibrate. but of course you need narration and descriptions to fill in those gaps, and i hope our efforts come off as at least somewhat successful! and for the most part, fleshing out the characters and the story and setting as much as possible is just as key to us as the Byler Moments are — if we wanted to focus on only every interaction mike and will had with each other while tabling those with the rest of the party, background/original characters, or the setting of camp as a whole, we would write a much different (and much shorter) fic instead :-)

finally, about 10.2 specifically: THANK YOU SOOOOOO MUCH WHDBHDHDGDJ <- me blubbering with happiness FRRR. thea can tell you firsthand that i spent many weeks banging my head against my desk trying to hammer out the entirety of the bonfire scene and its transitions — it was particularly tricky for me to try and balance general pacing with the inclusion of other characters And having everything lead up to the final moments, so i’m so so so glad it was a good read and that everything felt fitting and intentional because it was definitely meant to be! thea mentioned this in the last ask but will in ch09 gets kind of bowled over by his realization moment all at once, whereas mike kind of has two separate ones — one in 10.1, and one at the end of 10.2, both helping him come to terms with similar but different aspects of his romantic feelings and processing them and moving forward — and i didn’t want them to feel like the same moment happening twice (past a certain obvious degree).

they definitely are their own worst obstacles, especially in a modern au that takes away a good amount (but definitely not all!) of the canon universe pressure of comphet and sexuality and conformation. i know this is a big reason people tend to shy away from modern aus in this fandom, because it’s true that the source material is pretty heavy on these themes, and i have my thoughts on this that i’ll probably expand on soon, but to me, in doing so, it’s kind of a really fun exercise in fleshing out their internal struggles and playing off of those more, if that makes sense: their shared stubbornness, self-repression, reactivity and emotional tendencies, etc, but also the fact that they are very kind, generous, and loyal characters who, at least in the context of acswy, are more scared of being hurt by each other or themselves than they are actually invested in “hating” each other. and you bring up an excellent point as well, probably something that has been more of a subconscious but known goal for us than something we are On Purpose trying to get across: everything is happening in one location during one part of the year for a reason! they’ve had good memories here and bad, both in regards to each other and their friendship and otherwise, and are drawn to coming back every summer just as much as they are each other. with the brief exception of ch09 (although the context of it is a Rare Day Away From Camp, so the idea is still there lol), the emotional journey of the mainline fic very much plays out in the same place to try and convey that.

sorry for the essay long answer to your long ask in response to a long answer in response to a long ask — it’s just very very fulfilling to know that people are noticing our choices and the reasons behind them when we make so many of them intentionally! thank you again and i’m soooo so so glad you enjoyed 10.2 🥳🥳🥳

[niki-phoria]

pairing: dabi x male!reader (no pronouns used; masc reader) genre: angst (??)/suggestive word count: 755

includes: reader being shirtless, lowkey asshole dabi, smoking/sharing cigarettes, might make a part 02, written with male reader in mind

a/n: school starts tomorrow for me (<//3) so fics will probably slow down for a while but i've had this idea for a while so i figured i would write it, lowkey based on this

summary: late night smoking with situationship dabi

likes, reblogs, comments, and feedback are always appreciated <33

pushing the door open, you wander into a nearby alleyway. you can still smell the weed from the group of stoners that live in the flat above you. at least they have the decency to go outside. cool air stings against your skin as you step out onto the freezing concrete - silently cursing yourself for not at least grabbing a coat before you left. 

despite the goosebumps rising along your skin, you stumble further into the darkness before leaning your back against the brick wall. it feels damp against your bare skin - likely from the storm that had hit last night. 

you hold a cigarette between your lips as you flick the lighter on; cupping your hand around the small flame. you slip the plastic device into a pocket of your sweatpants once the cigarette begins to burn. 

the familiar feeling of smoke invading your lungs gives you an unsettling feeling of comfort. your eyes flutter closed as you slowly exhale; letting the fumes hang heavily in the air. 

your eyebrows furrow as the events of the day swirl throughout your mind once again. a sigh escapes your lips as you take yet another puff from your cigarette, hoping the methodical action will somehow improve your breathing - like the exercises your counselor had drilled into you from behind her thin glasses and scowl.

breathe the smoke in. breathe your worries out. 

“bad day?” 

a voice interrupts your silent introspection from above. your features contort into a scowl of your own. the sun had set long ago, disguising the man in darkness; though you recognize him by voice alone. you can almost picture the smug smirk on his lips - staples pulled taut because of the action. this time no smoke leaves your lungs when you exhale. 

“something like that.” exhaustion drips from every word that leaves your lips. you’re sure he’s picked up on your annoyance, though he makes no move to leave you alone. 

dabi’s combat boots scrape against the half-wall he had been kneeling on as he jumps down onto the ground below. your tired eyes meet his own as he casually wanders over to stand beside you - so close that the denim of his jacket brushes against your shoulder. 

against your better judgement, you shift slightly to look over at him. your eyes study the stitches decorating his coat and jeans. everything about him is covered in staples; it seems.

bright blue eyes meet your own when you finally look up at him. disheveled black hair falls into his eyes. you resist the urge to reach a hand up to brush the stray strands back into place - instead taking yet another long drag from your cigarette. 

“wanna talk about it?” he asks, breaking the prolonged silence. it’s not an unusual question, though it’s once that you find particularly difficult to answer. nothing from dabi comes for free.

you flick the cigarette between your fingers, watching as the ash falls to the ground. you can feel dabi’s unrelenting stare on you with each movement you make. piercing blue eyes study your expression: the way your lips have remained in a slight frown; your still-furrowed eyebrows; your gaze fixated on the wet ground you’re both standing on.

before you can take another puff, the cigarette is stolen from between your fingers. dabi takes a drag himself before almost immediately blowing the smoke into the air around you. your protests die on your tongue when he reaches over to grab your face. his fingers feel hot against your skin. your breath hitches in your throat as he leans in until your lips just barely brush against each other.

dabi’s hand falls to gently wrap around your neck, keeping you steady. “y/n,” he murmurs. your own name sounds foreign to your ears. 

“touya,” you whisper. his fingertips heat up even more. your hand snakes into his hair, tightly gripping the strands. 

“let me take care of you.” his breath ghosts against your lips. you unconsciously lean even more into his touch. “just for tonight.”

“you always say that,” you mumble, though you make no effort to pull away.

dabi’s hand ghosts against your waist. despite his natural warmth, his touch still sends shivers up your spine. “and i always mean it.”

it’s a bold-faced lie and you both know it, but you remain silent for the moment. vulnerability has never been your strong suit either. 

instead, you lean in until you catch dabi in a kiss - molding your lips together the same way you always do.

[fanaticsnail]

Snail! I want to say I love everything you have given us for One Piece and your updates and ideas are all spectacular!

In particular, I am loving the Yandere Doffy things that are rolling across my dash, and believe me I am here for the whole "he has to keep himself in check for her" vs "he has her to keep him in check" situation, but I really latched onto the other anon's idea for why the Reader is held captive. The idea that Doffy compares his princess to his mother is fabulous, and that letting her leave Dressrosa (leave him) would have disastrous consequences by way of his mother becoming ill because his father was too weak and they left Marijoise combined in my head with a fic idea you posted about Doffy being overprotective while the Reader is ill.

What if Doffy keeps his delicate flower of a princess in Dressrosa, right under his thumb where she is meant to flourish, only to have her wither out of nowhere? Going from her reading to him while he rests in her lap directly to him reading to her as she dozes, sleeping and resting the same way she has been for days (and there doesn't seem to be any improvement, he is running out of medics that still have their heads attached). He cannot fix this; there is no way to snap his fingers and have her be well again, be awake and alert and oh-so-sweet as she should. His impatience and fear work in tandem; if she is going to get better, it will take time- but there is always the option that she will not, and he is watching her slow decline. And Doflamingo? He cannot bear this.

Ah, the potential for fluff, and heavy introspective angst.

Oh. My. Gosh. The plot thickens. Yandere Doffy: ask 1 & ask 2 here so far.

I am loving the fact that we're all in agreement that yandere is such a good colour to see him in -> suits him very, very well.

I have been wanting to write Doflamingo a care fic for an ill spouse or significant other for some time now (likely when I started getting sick, myself). It would just be so beautiful watching him struggle and not be able to do anything about it. Just as you said, the medics and healers are starting to run out of heads.

He can't fight it, he can't beat it, and it'd be horrible watching them fade away just like his mother did 😭.

OH MY GOSH. BUT WHAT IF THEY'RE DISCOVERED WHEN DOFFY GOES TO IMPEL DOWN?? AND THEY'RE NOT GETTING BETTER?? Who's going to help? Who can take care of them like he can? Who can ensure their safety like he can? So many options. I feel like I need to do a few of these to get it down right. So many different ways to go with a Yandere Doflamingo 🤌.

This is excellent, everything is all working together swimmingly. Thank you for your lovely add on, I will absolutely see it done. So much love for you, Anon 🖤🖤

[flownwrong]

resdogs fic recs

Having gone through most fics for this fandom (or at least this ship) I could get my hands on, and encouraged by the usual gang, I bring you a few recs under cut. Might or might not find some more later.

Free Agent Orange by @nigeltde-fic

A stunningly fond look at Freddy's fuckups and fucked-up-ness. Strikes me every time how much of an unreliable narrator he is here, detached and ready to cut into his otherness while just glancing off both the soft core of himself and the spine to support it, and how, in the end, he can never be anything other than himself. Can't think of another resdogs fic that gets at the undercover of it all quite like this one.

Cut My Throat by Delphi

Delphi's Freddy is ever-watchful, aware of himself — dangerous, too, for White. Competent, but clear-eyed about turning away from duty. The perfect puzzle-pieces-slotting-together desire between them here is electrifying. That first coming-together is scorching and urgent, a perfect use of the classic shaving setup, and the second one is confused and unmoored until it finally isn't. The ending kind of kills me every time with how it both circles back and doesn't.

Already Gone by Delphi

Quiet and sweet. I think it's incredibly hard to write a truly molasses-slow, non-urgent resdogs fic — especially in Freddy's narrative voice. This one works perfectly, despite focusing on paranoia. And all fic for this ship will be, by definition, bittersweet, but this is maybe the sweetest of the lot. The last paragraph always leaves me halfway to a smile.

In Deep by veronamay

I really love a Freddy who starts off too hard in the other direction in his own head — high on getting in, high on being off the leash — right up until the moment where he's hit in the face with the fact that he is down bad, and didn't he know it all along, through all the bullshit? But of course.

The New West by gigantic

Larry is hard to write and hard to explore. I think gigantic uses second person very well here to draw a line stretching way into the past and bring it all the way back to the bitter end with a merciless punchline. Reads like a good companion piece to the first fic on the list, actually, another slightly unreliable introspection of someone with tightly-leashed hope inside.

Something Better For Yourself by ostreatus

Another Larry piece. ostreatus says in the notes they wanted "to imagine a scenario or two where Freddy is largely unreadable beyond surface reactions", and it's something I can never get enough of. They manage, too — you can gauge just how affected Freddy is, and what did it, because you have context. Larry, struck where it isn't even supposed to hurt anymore, cannot. It's hopeless and moving.

And here we have it, folks. Side-note: while re-reading my bookmarks, I became conscious of the disconnect that should've been obvious to me — the reason canon-compliant resdogs fic strikes the reader in the heart is the sense of doom, of course; but while we know the doom is utter tragedy and what amounts to murder-suicide, the doom Freddy senses is just the betrayal — yet we all seem to agree it never feels any lighter. I just think that's neat.

[tarabyte3]

Top 5 favourite fanfic tropes?

For my follow up I will allow you a light cheat:

✨️ Top 5 fics (any fandom/pairing)

and (if you would like)

✨️ Top 5 Andy blorbo fics

You know, those ones that live rent free in your mind and you find yourself coming back to even years later (also your choices don't have to specifically follow your trope picks!).

😘

Before I start, I want you to know I only saw the first bit in the preview and was like, "Oh that's fun!" And then got sneak attacked by the rest when I opened it 😂😭 Anon, I respect tf out of you for this, but also I'm going to have an existential crisis lmaoooo

✨Top 5 fanfiction tropes

- Mutual pining/"un"requited love

Especially if it's paired with angst 🤌 want them longing. Yearning, even. Throw in something like forbidden love to kick it up a notch, and, baby, you've got yourself a stew.

- Sex pollen

Particularly if they aren't in a relationship yet to add extra pining and angst. This is a sacrifice (I shouldn't want this). I would do this for you (please let me). I can't stand to watch you suffer (this will break me, but for you it's worth it). That and the smut of it all 😌

- Hanahaki

Being so in love with someone it's literally killing you. It's love made manifest so violently you choke on it. The pain and suffering would end if only you could let the words out, but the thought of rejection—of having to live with that instead—is worse than death. Plus, there's something a little beautiful and poetic about combining pain and suffering with love and flowers. Doom and bloom. Life and death. The Japanese were so real for this.

- Fake dating

I love it when they're both fuckin dying the entire time because they've caught a glimpse of the thing they want more than anything and it isn't real. It's bliss. It's torture. They don't want it to end, but it will destroy them to keep having it just out of reach.

- Getting together

A simple classic, but there's just something about two people falling in love and coming together in spite of everything. And if it's a slow burn? With constant missed opportunities and misunderstandings?! Staple crop of tropes.

✨ Top 5 Fics

I'm going to go with Qui-Gon x Obi-Wan (shocking, I know) because that is the bulk of what I have been reading non-stop so it's at the forefront of my brain. It was difficult to narrow down my 100+ bookmarks because there are SO many incredible works and writers in that fandom that inspire me, and some of them make me want to eat dirt. (I mean that as an exceptional compliment.)

- Shorelines by outpastthemoat

This is what Qui-Gon has done each morning for the past three days, returning to Obi-Wan with handfuls of treasures he has found: Bits of broken glass, polished by the waves, or intricately spiraled shells, a broken piece of chain; perhaps a stone as wide and flat as his hand. But he always returns to the shoreline the following day, and begins his search anew.

This is one of my favorite QuiObi writers (I would highly recommend ANY of her other works at the drop of a hat as well), and I have reread this fic at least once a week for months. Like, I have it open in a tab and think about it constantly. It's an introspective piece—an exploration of a connection and the peeling back of layers to try to understand what waits underneath. There's a beautiful sort of simple yearning, melancholy, and poetry to her writing that makes my brain go brrrrrr. So much is said in all of the things left unsaid. It's two parts of a series and they're both incredible.

- Malalignment by Tohje

The first time is a pure coincidence, all parties could swear it on their deathbeds. The pelta frigate GRS-20 - informally Generosity - is a huge, maze-like, rusting piece of a stronghold with multiple medical wards and cantinas. It is a sheer stroke of luck that 212th and the River Company are accommodated in the adjacent, overstuffed compartments and share the same cantina for their short recuperation periods. There is no thing such as luck, or coincidence, only war (and the Force, according to the Jedi).

Another writer that I adore who has multiple bangers. This one is an AU where QuiGon lives and is part of the Clone War, but in the most Qui-Gon way possible. Combined with Obi-Wan's lingering hurt from the situation with Anakin, the war, and a several year estrangement and by god it's delicious angst. Plus, I love self-sacrificing depictions of General Kenobi. (The smut is also very good)

- That Cold Affliction by Orphan Account

Obi-Wan tries to surprise his Master on a mission with few comforts by making Qui-Gon's favorite tea. Or trying to, at least. As it turns out, tea is a . . . complicated affair. (A little bit like love.)

Short and bittersweet. Forbidden love. Beautiful angst. I'm so sad I don't know the original author because I've seen several of their works pop up that are also orphaned (they have a very specific summary style) and they're all so good and full of similar themes, but I have no way of seeing if I've missed one or not 😭

- Taking Root by sanerontheinside

Obi-Wan thought he was terribly obvious, really. Qui-Gon thought it was Obi-Wan’s secret to share or keep, as he wished.

*banging pots and pans together* QUIOBI HANAHAKI!! This author does a deep dive into the affliction and combines it beautifully with Star Wars world building, plot, and characterization. It's everything I could want from the trope AND the pairing. They're also another one of my favorite writers. And if you're looking for an abundance of excellent smut, you'll absolutely find it in their body of work.

- How to Grow Vegetables and Alienate People by Meggory

Why had Obi-Wan agreed to this? He had exactly no experience growing anything—hell, he'd killed a cactus once, and he'd heard someone say that was impossible—but now he was taking over Bant's community garden share so she didn't feel she had wasted $150 on the plot? He had $150. He should have just given it to her and told her to get blitzed on the plane.

Cute modern AU with a funny af meet cute, excellent characterization, humor, and a simple, lovely plot of two idiots falling in love. Oh, plus gardening. 😌 AND Qui-Gon has a dog. It's the soul comfort food of fics. This author does an incredible job with AUs (pssst you like time loops?) that are great stories so it was very difficult to pick just one!

✨I both adore and dislike this last part. Because on one hand, it gives me the chance to brag about and hype up my friends, who are not only kind, wonderful people, but also very talented writers that deserve it and more. So I truly appreciate you so much for that. On the other hand, there are more than 5 of them that have written Andy Blorbo fics, and some of them have multiple stories and blorbos. And we've all gushed over or discussed many of them at length with each other, so they hold a particular fondness in my heart. Choosing only 5 from that feels like an impossible task.

So I WON'T be narrowing down my top 5 (I'm so sorry, anon, I'm not god's strongest soldier), but I will be taking the opportunity to drop their Masterlists/AO3 accounts 💖😌😇

afogocado | Alfred Pennyworth

amywritesthings | Kino Loy

citrus-moonlight | Ulysses Klaue

eupheme | Alfred Pennyworth, Ulysses Klaue

squidlywiddly87 | Kino Loy, Ulysses Klaue, Liam Black

stargirlfics | Alfred Pennyworth (+ lots of Alfred and Klaue headcanons and blurbs!)

tarrenterror | Alfred Pennyworth, Ulysses Klaue (+ Alfred, David Robey, and Kino headcanons, blurbs, and edits)

viceofdionysus : Alfred Pennyworth, Ulysses Klaue

[astradyke]

If u have dnp fic recs I would owe you forever 🙏🙏

hi, darling anon. i have not one, not two, but twenty two (+) of these! however, i don't want to overwhelm you or my dash, so i am going to go with seven pieces that i think display a range in tone, style, length, etc. if anyone would like other recommendations-- or perhaps at a later time, i'll do this without prompt-- please reach out! i have so many more that are wonderful and all-time favorites <3

(when you gonna realise) it was just that the time was wrong by The_Blonde (T, 96.5k, 6/6)

this is quintessential “i need to sink my teeth into something for the next XYZ hours of my life” — it’s a long, incredibly well-written piece of work. while this is obviously a piece of AU fiction, it really did shift how i view and appreciate Dan and Phil's relationship, and overall is an incredibly well-thought out exploration of love and internal want. masterfully executed, which seems to be a trend of this author. this is what got me into reading more phanfic-- i read this, found it imperative that i read the rest of this author's works, and spiraled into AU content. set aside a few hours and really soak this one in, it's worth it.

back to those tokyo nights by waveydnp (M, 3k, 1/1)

i am so obsessed with reading domestic fics, and this is so perfectly that. it’s a realistic, earnest exploration of the perspective character in a way that masters show not tell and unreliable narrator skillsets. i have other recommendations by this particular author and have found that they are excellent at introspection and dialogue. in 3k words, the author manages to say quite a lot, and i find it a very good read altogether.

now i know there is no other by georgiabread (N/A, 970, 1/1)

a very quick hurt/comfort read that is just nice on sad nights, y’know? i really love this one for nostalgia’s sake— this was one of the fics i believe i read when i was first/last immersed into the phandom, back when i was thirteen or so. i recognized nearly every word— so i’m fairly certain i had seen it back then. perhaps not, but either way, something about it is really familiar and comforting so i’ll put it forward. it's set during the earliest parts of their relationship, and just feels really true to the newness and simultaneous depth of their connection, and how young they are. something about the dialogue really feels perfect for the 2009 era-- the anxiety, the freshness, the infatuation.

walk slow and low on a tightrope by chickenfree (T, 6.5k, 1/1)

with my whole heart, i am telling you, this fanfiction left a seismic impact on me. it’s left me with a lot of new thoughts and perspective on Dan and Phil together (setting aside the speculative nature inherent to RPF, etc. etc., it definitely reflects on love in general and theirs in the more particular). it’s also affected me on a separate, personal scale. it explores loving in a way that is not typically actualized in display, something hard to wrap your mind around if you struggle to feel loved, and in a way that i had my own journey with and found that this piece explores expertly. and again, just the writing style of this author really captivates me. i’ve been meaning to rec this fic for a while now; the author's style is idiosyncratic and may not immediately click, but i maintain that this is a must-read, and is best to read a few times over. i cannot emphasize how much i adore this one, it's top 3 if not top 2 if not top 1.

let chance take me to your shore by basl (G, 15k, 1/1)

astonishingly under-appreciated piece that i am absolutely in love with. very enjoyable magical realism AU that implements hurt/comfort, internal and external angst, and fluffy domestic scenes in a really nice, seamless way. i really love how this fanfiction ends but am very attached to every scene— if you don’t have endless amounts of time, but want to get really invested into an AU setting, i couldn’t have a better fic to rec you.

slutty, slutty soulmates by sierraadeux (E, 7k, 1/1)

my God, this is THE explicit fic while simultaneously being THE soulmate fic. it’s an incredibly sex-positive and consistently sweet piece that has like, to die for prose. the way that the author writes amplifies the sensuality of a lot of scenes in a way that makes it intoxicating and fun to read. it’s honestly a very real, grounding piece, with funny moments and emotional moments as well. definitely top five favorite pieces, really heavily recommend if you are an adult that’s comfortable with explicit content.

as he goes, so i go by cloej88 (mutual alert! @bitchslapblastoids) (E, 16.9k, 1/1)

i am also in love with the companion piece to this fic, but i wanted to recommend the first in this series here. i am selective about works that describe their relationship during tour, and can positively say that i really love this one. i think it’s a really fascinating interpretation of their relationship at this time, and features a lot of key moments in the 2015 era that i really just have to applaud the writer for including in such a seamless way. i love the interesting subtype of yearning that the prose exhibits here. obviously, everyone has their different tastes and draws, but i think this is a strong universal recommend.

let me know if you want any more, and i hope you enjoy these! i tried to hit a wide range, but if you like one author's piece, check out their other works; some of these appear again at other places in my rec list, and i know many of them are active writers and/or have a substantial number of fics!