#message me if you want in on the tag list

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

Forever

@loose1cannon Thank you so much for your request! I was so hyped with the Ace one, but I need to apologise because my angsty wired brain might have made a poo-poo. I'm so sorry if it's too sad! 😫 I promise that the other part of your request will be happy, okay?? I hope you still enjoy it! ❤️

Source for pic

Forever

Word Count: 1270

Tags: fem!reader; angst, so much angst; NSFW; feelings; hurt; sorrow; grief; spoilers for what happens at Marineford; slightly NSFW

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: It has been a year since Marineford and you still can't cope with the loss.

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil (guys if you only want to be tagged for specific characters, please send me a message! I don't want to bother you with excessive tagging!!🙏)

|Masterlist|

Rain poured down from the skies mirroring your inner turmoil exactly. The steady downpour cast a sort of halo over your figure. It felt like a shroud. The site was eerily quiet aside from the sounds of the heavy drops crashing against the stone graves. 

And for the thrumming of your heart. 

An unsteady rhythm beating out of sync, skipping a beat now and then, as if it were missing something to make it whole. And it was.

Ace.

One year had passed since he left you, or since you lost him. Honestly, it felt like the world itself had lost him, since he belonged to everyone. He was life itself. And without him, there was only demise. 

“Did you miss me, baby?” His tongue swiped against yours in desperation while his scalding hands roamed your clothed body. “I missed you so much. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. All day, every day.”

Ace was always so eager for you that his touch singed your clothes, leaving small burn marks on the hem of your shirts or on your jeans. It used to piss you off. You’d scold him saying you didn’t have berries lying around just to buy new clothes and that he should be more careful. He laughed it off, or kissed it off, murmuring that he could buy or steal all the clothes you wanted, or better yet, you could just walk naked.

A sob clawed its way up your throat and scratched it, yearning to get out, needing to be free, but you clamped it down and pushed it back into your insides to fester and rot like all the other feelings of grief, sorrow and despair. 

No more crying. No more sadness. Ace wouldn’t want that. Ace loved your laugh.

“Laugh for me, Sunbeam!” You were both lying on his bed, sheets tangled on naked limbs and sweaty bodies, heaving from exhaustion and pleasure. 

“No. I’m mad at you.” But you weren’t, you were just downcast.

“It’s just a month. I’ll be back before you know it.”

No, no. You can’t go there, this one is too painful. If only you insisted, if only you had pushed further. He wouldn’t have gone after Blackbeard and he would still be here with you. 

Your knees hit the muddied floor with a soft thud as your hands clutched your chest. Slim fingers crumpled the drenched fabric as your breath left your lips in shallow, ragged heaves. “You weren’t supposed to leave me, Ace! Not like this!”

Your arms circled your torso in the only hug you allowed yourself these days: your own. It was nowhere near enough, but then again, there would never be another hug like Ace’s. 

It was crushing, bone-breaking, suffocating. It was home. 

“Ace!”

“I’m back, baby. Missed me, Sunbeam?” With a little jump you were straddling his lap, legs wrapped securely around his waist as his hands rested on your ass. Your mouth devoured him while your fingers tangled in his unkempt greasy hair. “I guess that’s a yes.” 

That smirk. Those freckles. The mischievous glint in his eyes. 

Gone. All gone. Buried in front of you, six feet under and beneath layers of cold, unforgiving dirt. 

Alongside your heart.

You tried to stifle your moans against the pillow, but he would have none of that. Stopping that sinful lapping of his tongue and removing his fingers from inside you, he lifted himself onto his knees and threw the pillow to the other side of the cabin. “I want to hear you scream my name.”

“Ace!” You whisper with a groan of frustration. You were just about to unravel when he left you feeling empty.

“Yes, sweetheart, just like that.” He aligned his leaking tip with your wet entrance and teased, pulling a little mewl from your lips. “But way louder.”

And you did what he told you to.

Was that the last time?

There’s no stopping the tears. You tried, you really did. But they were relentless. You have a million memories from the past and a million and one memories of Ace. You can’t afford to lose any of them.

"God, Ace, why?” The clenching in your chest expands and swells, taking up all the space inside. Filling you like a balloon and you feel ready to pop. How are you supposed to survive without him? One year was already hell, how can you survive another one?

And another one…

And another one…

“Smile, Sunbeam!”

“You’re shining, love!”

“Ah, that laugh right there, I could die a happy man.”

“You make me feel worthy.”

“I can’t live without you, baby.”

“Don’t ever leave me. I wouldn’t make it.”

You didn’t leave him. You kept your promise. He was the one who left. And now how are you supposed to move on with your life as if what made you live wasn’t ripped apart from you? How is a sunbeam supposed to shine when there is no reflective surface?

How can you be light, when all you feel is darkness?

“Ace… This was never supposed to be easy, but I didn’t expect it to break me…"

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you.”

“You’re my life.”

“My happy, little Sunbeam.”

“My love.”

Getting up on wobbly legs you took another two steps forward. Your tears mixed with the rain, salt and water. Pain and grief. Hurt and sorrow. Reaching with trembling, frail fingers, you grabbed the remnants of Ace’s hat. It was torn and tattered, the beads were barely hanging on, but it was still there.

A desperate wail left your lips as you fell back down, your legs no longer supporting the weight of your misery. This time, you let the sobs climb all the way out. And you cried as you had never cried before. Sobs, hiccups and ragged breaths mingled with the sound of approaching thunder.

But none of that compared to the tempest inside. It roared, raged and crashed, drowning you in its violence, dragging you to the pits of sorrow and darkness and you had no idea how to climb out of there anymore. Not without him. 

But then there was a sudden calmness. A break amidst the most violent of storms and then the echo of a whisper, soft and unmistakable. 

“You’ll be okay, Sunbeam.”

Ace’s voice. A gentle murmur in your soul. Perhaps a conjured thought your troubled mind had made up, but you’d take it.

You clutched his worn-out hat against your chest, wishing there was still a lingering scent of him anywhere, but he had disappeared so long ago. The rain slowed down and was now just a gentle pitter-patter against the leaves and the graves. 

A sunbeam peeked from behind a dark cloud and landed on your lap, near Ace’s hat and for the first time in a year you felt a sliver of hope on the horizon. You didn’t have Ace anymore, but your love for him would never fade or wane.

Your memories together would still be a part of you.

You would carry him inside you and remember him in those missing, uneven beats of your heart. 

Maybe… just maybe, that would be enough to carry you through. 

“I’ll be okay, love.” You forced a laugh. A bright smile like the ones he used to love. “For you, Ace. I’ll fight for you.”

The sunbeam on your lap flickered, faded behind a cloud and reappeared on Ace’s grave. Hope filled you and took back some of the space that grief and sorrow had claimed as territory. You’d learn to shine again, someday…

For him. 

For Ace.

For your love.

[romana-after-dark]

Be Quiet: 3

Dark!Logan Howlett x fem!reader

My god this header is ass but I was an emo kid what can I say

Series Masterlist : Main Masterlist : Logan Masterlist

Follow @romana-updates and click follow, join my tumblr community or ask to join the tag list to keep up!

Buy Me A Coffee : Kofi : Go Fund Me

Chapter summary: Past. You open up to Logan. Present. Logan opens up to you

Warnings: This fic features non con, pregnancy, and themes of religous trauma. I will not be saying everything that happens to warm you, by clicking read more you are prepared for extremely dark themes and that you at 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

2.8 words

Before

Logan had tried to do as Charles requested. Tried. Honestly, he had but the place wasn’t THAT fucking big, and he kept running into you during all the times it was least oppretune, all the times he was aching for touch and tenderness as the soft skin only you could provide.

And he missed you. That little trip to the store had sent something burning in his, a spark of joy that ignited in his body that maybe this time, you would be different, everything could be different. You were fun, gentle, kind and soft and passive… He thought of how you were so scared of the man, he felt your fear drumming in your heart and at the moment all that mattered was protecting you. Still, you didn’t want him to hurt the man. Empathetic little thing.

Glancing up to find your eyes on him at diner hurt so much he tried to keep his eyes trained on the food at all times. He tried not leave his room for fear of running into you in the hall. Hell, sometimes he didn’t even want to be in the house because he could fucking smell you. He could smell when you were ovulating and on your period, in tune to everything you did despite trying to avoid you, leaving him him alone in his room to fuck his fist day after day, hour after hour humping a pillow because he couldn’t control himself like a horny teenager.

And Remy was no fucking help.

“Logan!” He called from down the hall. “I need a favor.”

He rolled his eyes. “Awful lot of favors with you, huh?”

Remy LeBeau laughed as if it was a joke. It wasn’t, Remy’s ‘favor’ had landed him in this predicament in the first place.

“I am supposed to eat lunch with notre ami,” he says with a smirk that makes Logan assume he’s not talking about Jean or Emma or Ellie. “But I’m afraid I’ve been called in another direction.”

“Is the other direction some girl’s pussy?”

A glint in his eyes. “Some man’s pussy, to be specific, cher, but a gentleman never tells. Anyway, I need you to let her know I can’t make it, send my apologies.” Remy already started walking away. 

Logan half shouts down the hall. “What, are you two going on dates now?”

“What’s it to you?”

Logan was fuming, absolutely livid. You and Remy? Fuck no. Not a chance in the world. Well sure, it would make sense. Remy was soft, kind, funny. He knew how to romance a girl. Or a guy. Or whatever it was he was sticking his dick into. He could wine and dine and woo his way into those little dresses with the right words, the right touches… He could be friendly, nice… but Remy LeBeau is not the kind of man to settle down. He’s a slut. You? You are a romantic, he could tell. Young and innocent and still believing in true love and Remy was the kind of guy to make you fall for it. Not intentionally…. Probably… but Remy didn’t understand you. Not like Logan did.

So, despite not telling Remy he would deliver the message, he went to find your classroom anyway.

*

It was early in the semester still, but fall was beginning to creep in on the New England days. Still, it was lovely out and the smell of oak made you happy, so you cracked a window. Air was good for the kids. 

You had an upper level class, literature, and were just finishing the discussion of The Count of Monte Christo. 

When you hear the door open, you expected Remy but instead saw Logan. This surprised you, considering how obvious it was he had been avoiding you, you give him a warm smile and turn back to your class who were just beginning a brand new discussion.

“But I don’t think he’s motivated by revenge, he’s motivated by love!” A young girl argues with her classmate.

“He killed people, Jess.”

You clapped your hands together, “Guys I’m so sorry but that’s our time! As much as I’m sure you’d rather skip lunch and discuss Dante’s true motivation,  I have to let you go. Come prepared to pick this right up tomorrow!” You said, thrilled this has gone so well. 

Students grab their things and file out, several saying good day and several more staring at Logan as they passed. Logan glared at one particularly bug eyed boy.

“Logan.” You call his attention from the kid, and as Logan steps to your desk the door shuts behind you. You gesture to a chair near the front of the class. “Forgive me, but my feet hurt from standing. Is it alright if I eat?”

“Of course.” He hurries to answer, scrambling around the desk to pull out your chair. He’d be damned if he was outdone by Remy. His movements were awkward and clunky. Logan wasn’t an animal, he was raised to be a proper high society man, and even though he left home young, he lived during much more… polite eras than now. While he preferred to live more rustic, he knew how to be a gentleman.

You smile up at him from the chair, thanking him quietly. Logan pulls up a chair to the front, sitting with you. 

“Remy ain’t coming.” He blurts out, ready to break the news of the date as bluntly as possible to make him look worse, but when he saw the worry on your face he read your mind. “He had to go take care of business, he’s fine though.” Watching the relief on your face made him annoyingly jealous. “Sorry he had to miss your uh…” Logan glanced around the room. “Date, I guess.”

He likes hearing you giggle, even if he thinks it might be at him. “Did he call it a date?”

“Well… no…” Why did he feel so flustered with you?

“Good. It’s hardly a date. I have higher standards than sharing a sandwich in my classroom.” Despite his protests, you lay half your sandwich on his side of the desk. He couldn't say no to you. “Remy eats lunch with me sometimes, keeps me company. As a friend, if you were wondering.”

He was.

There was a comfortable silence as Logan ate the sandwich you gave me, doing everything he could to not hum as he delighted in it. How did you make a simple caprese sandwich taste so good? How did he get roped into sharing a meal with you when he was supposed to keep his distance?

“You’re good with them.” He mumbles with his mouth half full. When you look up with confusion he elaborates. “The kids, I mean. They like you. I can see it, and I’ve heard others talking.”

This makes you blush, looking away as you deflect the compliment. “Thank you, it’s probably the only thing I’m qualified to do.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. Were you a teacher before you came here?”

“I wasn’t anything before I came here.”

Logan gestured for you to continue, so you set  down your sandwich and cleared your throat, still looking down. “I’m not really qualified to be here, honestly… It’s not like a secret or anything but… it’s not exactly something I’m shouting from the rooftops so… I mean you don’t gotta lie or anything…”

“I won’t say anything” His voice was soft, comforting. He made you trust him, so you let it all out.

“I didn’t graduate high school.” You fidget with the hem of the flower print dress that went past your knees. “I got married at 16.” When you glance up, you’re expecting to see his weirded out, uncomfortable, or maybe even disgust at you. Instead he looked concerned. 

“Jesus, doll. How the hell was that legal?”

You explain. “With parental consent and judicial approval, you can get married pretty young. My parents knew the judge.”

“And your parents were okay with this?”

Logan wasn’t stupid, he’s 200 years old and has seen plenty of teenagers getting married, but it wasn’t as common as you might think. By the time he was coming of age, marriage age, even for women, was going up. Teenagers were teenagers, he supposed.

“It was their idea… he was um… he was 20.” 

The realization dawned on him. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

You give a little shrug and go back to eating. “It was pretty normal in my circles. I didn’t realize how weird it was until I was 18 or 19 or something when the doctors- well, yeah.”

Curiosity crested on the topic of doctors, but Logan knew better than to push too hard. “And what are ‘your circles.’”

A little smile quips up on your lip and Logan notices a seed from the whole grain bread on the bottom lip. He wanted to kiss it off.

“Ever watch 19 kids and counting?”

Logan nearly cocked on a tomato. “What?”

You smirk at his reaction. “Yeah. We were IBLP, fundies I guess people say. I got 11 siblings, wore jean skirts, homeschooled, all that. I even met a Duggar once at a conference. Not the creep one. I don’t think.”

Your blase nature around your strange childhood was a defense. Every day you learned new things that you grew up in that weren’t normal, Remy and you spending hours walking the grounds, just talking. He is shocked you never watched spongebob, you are shocked he was allowed outside after dark. Both of you had a bond over failed arranged marriages and childhood abuse, but he was further along in the deconstruction path.

Nodding along, Logan tries not to freak out. Part of him wants to run away from this conversation. He doesn’t want you to open up, he doesn't want to feel pity or sympathy or learn anything that might endear you to him even more. Part of him wanted to rip out your family and your husbands throats.

“I assume that means you didn’t graduate?”

“Not even close. Homeschool was a loose term, honestly. My parents believed women didn’t need math or science, not that they believed in science, but they encouraged my read thank goodness. I spent a lot of time reading and writing, studying that stuff since we didn’t have a TV. When I say Mr. Xavier took in a stray, I meant it. I’d have absolutely no options, no social security card, no birth certificate, even. Not even McDonalds would have taken me.”

Logan frowned at that, popping the last bite into him mouth. “Why not?”

Despite it all, you laugh still. “I didn’t know that was a thing until I wondered into a Walmart asking for a job and they laughed in my face. Mr. Xavier explained all that. Listen…” You shift in your seat. “I taught all 11 of my siblings English, literature, poetry, reading, writing… I promise you, I might not have gone to college… but I know what I’m doing here.”

He shot you an assuring smile. “I didn’t doubt you for a second, Dolly.”

Logan spent the rest of your lunch break helping you cut out book themed decorations for your classroom. There was so much he wanted to learn, like why you can’t drive, how you left your husband, how you possibly gained the courage to do it knowing nothing of the world and what had happened to you to make you run like that? How brave you must be, for such a small, vulnerable thing, to do that. Logan found he greatly admired you. He had his healing powers, his strenth, speed, his claws to protect him. But you? Just out on your own.

He wouldn’t fuck you. He wouldn’t fall in love. He would do as he promised Charles, he swore it to himself…

But from now on, you didn’t need to be afraid of anything.

Logan would be your claws.

After

You banged on Logan’s door, not caring who heard.

“LOGAN!!!” You shout, continuing to bang even after he opened the door. You didn’t care. Fists pounding on the door turned into fists slamming on his chest. Logan didn’t seem phased, its not like you were strong. Instead, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his room before closing the door. You knew you should fear he’d rape you again after what he did but you couldn’t care anymore. 

“Dolly-”

You throw the pregnancy test in his face, dried piss and all. “I hate you! I hate you!” You continue to scream at him and smack at his chest but he lets you. You scream, and scream and his and scream until there is nothing left in you and you fall to your knees crying.

Logan catches you, kneeling down and taking you into his arms and you just let him because fuck, you are so starved for affection, so desperate for touch it doesn’t matter that it came from him. You fit neatly in his lap, his chest warm against your head as he holds you to him.

He smells like oak.

When you calm down, you shove at him again and fall off. 

When he reaches for you, his worry stricken face trying to convince you he was the Logan you knew before, you shout, “No!” Pointing directly at him.

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Dolly. I am.”

“No, you’re not.” A sniffle alerts you of your runny nose, and you wipe it with your sleeve. “You knew what you were doing! You can’t- you apoligized while raping me, Logan!”

He winces. “Don’t say that…”

“What, rape?” 

That cringe again. “Don’t- don’t call it that!”

You scoff, a sardonic smile playing at your lips. “Oh, I’m sorry, that's upsetting to you? I can’t imagine how that feels, Logan.”

A moment of silence. Then he huffs a small laugh. You hated him, you hated how easy to was to fall back with him, to feel comfortable with him when he did something so horrible to you… and yet when you look at him now, sitting on the floor with the big eyes and little kitty ear hair as you called him, you didn’t see the man that raped you. You just saw Logan.

“I’ll get an abortion.” You say without much conviction.

“No, you won’t” He sounds more convinced than you were. Logan’s eyes were soft, patient, like a parent waiting for his childs fit to end.

You sit back against the wall, exhausted. “Yes, I will!”

He smirks. Is he making fun of you? “No, you will not”

“Or what, you’ll hurt me? You’ll follow me around everywhere?”

Logan chuckles at that. “No. I don’t need to do that. I’m not entirely convinced you would have taken that plan B, honestly.”

“Wha-” 

“How would you get there in the first place? You gonna ask fucking Remy to drive you to the abortion clinic?” He doesn’t give you a chance to answer. You and him both know what it is. Leaning in, Logan rests his elbows on his crossed legs, tight tank top straining against his pecs. “I know you, sweet baby doll. Better than Remy, better than anyone ever could. You may have left that world you lived in, may have left those beliefs and your parents and your husband and your pastor, but it hasn’t even been a year. Some stuff comes easier to digest, like realizing your husband doesn’t have the right to beat you with a switch. Some stuff, like what's going on in your womb… that gets a lot harder to sort through. I know you, and you just don’t have the guts to get an abortion”

You hated him. You hated him because he was right,

“That’s why you chose me, isn’t it.” The tears dripped down again, but softer this time. “Because you knew I wouldn’t.���

“No.” He sounded certain, final, almost deviated like it was important for him to know you understood what he was saying. “Dolly…” Logan leans over getting on his hands and knees. Slowly, he crawls across the floor to you, a cat hunting his prey, shoulder blades moving in time and jutting out of his shirt. His eyes were trained on you.

“I didn’t choose you, baby doll. None of this was my choice. The moment I saw you, every single choice was taken away from me.” He stalks closer, and you press your head against the door as your heart rate picks up again. “You were mine, I was yours, and everything that’s happened since has been fate pulling us together.”

Your lower lip quivers, making you whimper. “I didn’t want…” You almost say you, but can’t bring yourself to it. It wouldn’t be true. “I didn’t want that.”

His face is right up against you now, soft little breaths fanning your cheek and his eyes lidded with lust. “I didn’t want it to happen like that either, dolly.” His lips brush yours. “But I can’t deny fate any more than you can deny me.”

Logan might be a little ooc in this ill be real but shhhhhhhh

Also this is not hidden pro life agenda. I am pro choice.

I was raised Catholic and I remember even though a few years into deconstruction I couldn’t let go on the idea abortion was murder. I was assaulted and thought I was pregnant from it and spent hours sobbing in church because I wasn’t know what to do. Luckily it’s a choice I didn’t have to make in the end but please know whatever choice you made for your body was correct.

Want more yandere delulu logan?

Fan of this and also love joel?

Want soft logan, no dark?

If anyone else writes dark logan and wants to be fwends hmu <3 gotta be lgbt inclusive and general leftist stuff. I'll reblog your stuff!!!!!

Consider donating to doctors without borders to support gaza

If anyone knows more good dark logan writers hmu bc i just dont know anyone else!!!!

I appriciate you all supporting my logan work! keep on send them asks! I hav sunday off so i ll ge more then !

if you dont normally read my stuff, sometimes i do polls at the end of my fics. usually its about the story but i gotta do this for like....... well

I wrote the worng way and spent most of it regretting the name bc i just went with the first thing. Same here. this was initially a one shot! nut i fel the title is too simplistic

love yuh!!!

[mrsniallhoran505]

Good Afternoon Callum Turner Girls!

Theme 193: sent to me by @radio-gaga-clapclap

GACTG! Tag List:

Sometimes tags work sometimes they don't!

If you want to be added to the tag list, send me a message!

@slowsweetlove @ilovemycrayons @devyn4203-blog @ab4eva @b-bradshaw @awkwxrdapple

[satohqbanana]

This post is not going where you think it is. I won't tag this as a vent post, as I want to use this opportunity to ask for some help and advice, since I am emotionally overwhelmed.

First off, I want to acknowledge Naveena's @thecomfywriter message. Thank you if you think of me that way. I just want to be helpful to the writers who I have added to my list of friends mentally, and whose works I support. I want to help them know if something works or appeals to me, and help them understand better about their works. I'm glad that my presence is appreciated.

But full disclosure: This message has jumpstarted a lot of negative feelings in me.

Like @wyked-ao3 mentioned, not all days are good days. On the good days, I find joy in other's works. I strive to see the positives of every post I am tagged in or am interested in; I strive to understand a lot of these works as best as I could, to what extent of time and effort I can spare. Sometimes, these works even push me out of my no-talk like-only phase because they're just so enjoyable for me.

But on the bad days, I just really see more negative things than good. I try to resist what could be nitpicking, and the things that turn me away from a piece.

Certain pieces have been lovingly shared with me. This as a privilege and I acknowledge it as such. Your works are your babies. You look forward to my feedback and/or our interaction. You have chosen me to personally look at your work and enjoy it with you.

But like I said before, the way that society evolved, there's simply no room for a lot of negatives, for a lot of "I don't like this" or "I'm not sure about this" without it being associated with "I hate this", "I hate you", or the worst of them, "DON'T you EVER write/draw/create EVER again!" I fully understand that our emotions can be out of control - we can't help but feel what we feel.

And sometimes I can't help but feel not good or not satisfied towards someone's work. And it's worst when it's been presented to me in a golden platter with an earnest heart and eyes filled with glee. What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to be true to myself and honest with the other person, without hurting them? Is it possible for me to do this in a way that doesn't hurt them?

You might suggest, "Why don't you just like the post? How about reblogging it without commenting to increase engagement?" I'm worried that the person who I will treat that way will see my hype and comments on other people's post. I'm worried that the person whose work I didn't really enjoy will get envious of these other people and feel contempt towards me. And I just simply skip over their post, can you imagine how bad it must feel to be ignored while seemingly everyone else is being celebrated? True, in other platforms like AO3, we can't actively see this sort of interaction, but on Tumblr where a lot of people are common mutuals, this can spell social disaster.

Psychology says we evolved to display emotions in certain ways for better communication. In that case, what do you suggest we can do to healthily and successfully communicate "I don't like this" and similar sentiments?

(Before that, let's celebrate me getting to the end of this post without crying. YAY! Baby steps to healthy communication BABY!)

[wistfulforstars]

For What It's Worth - Part 7

Rex x Reader

Apologies for the long break! Life has been kicking my ass lately! Enjoy me putting Rex through another high-stakes situation!

Summary: Rex preps for the pro-clone rally, you would like him to stop treating you like an invalid already, the big day arrives, and all hell breaks loose

Warnings: Minors begone, The *plot* continues (I'm almost done teasing y'all, I promise), reader is afab, general violence, mobs gonna mob, I play fast and loose with CG protocol, Rex doesn't deserve this stress, mentions of sex, some attempts at sex were made, but Rex's will is made of steel, cliffhanger-y and I apologize, I didn't mean for the plot to plot this much

Tag List: @bambiswriting @jessyhazy @baddest-batchers @bimboshaggy @heylookitworked @eclec-tech @burningnerdchild @liopleurodean @littlemissbshine

If anyone would like to be added to the tag list, please comment below or message/ask directly.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Rex was absolutely exhausted.

Fox wasn’t lying when he said the guard was understaffed. Every day the protest grew closer, and with that came new complications. Complications he usually didn’t have to deal with on the battlefield. 

Like civilians. Not insurgents. Not hostages. Not rebels against the separatists. Real and true civilians with not a drop of combat in their blood (not that they wanted it). And there were so many. The population of Coruscant was out of control, and he made a promise to himself to never, ever settle here. He needed sky. And trees. And occasional, honest silence. Not even his men could conjure such a racket. 

But coordinating route plans through the city, placement of troopers, and escorts for persons of importance weren’t his only concerns. Rex hadn’t been sleeping well. And it was all your fault.

Still not cleared to work by a professional, but almost entirely back to feeling like your former self, you laid around your apartment all day, every day bored. Bored and, well… impassioned.

And you weren’t keeping it to yourself. 

Rex could handle the thorough, suggestive kisses, no matter how hard the thought of your soft lips made him. He could deal with the increasingly short and revealing clothes - it’s hot in here, you’d said - even if he got the ungentlemanly urge to rip them off. He could even stay strong against the way you’d clamber into his lap and grind onto his cock while you watched your nightly shows. He would end every evening achingly erect, too stimulated to sleep, and kicking himself. 

His honor and concern for your health couldn’t be compromised, but the desire to give you exactly what you wanted, what you needed, was all-consuming. Rex wanted to provide for you in every way, and being unable to was eating him up inside. You deserved to be catered and attended  to. Adored. Worshiped. 

You deserved to be fucked. In whatever way you craved. In whatever way you would have him.

And by the force, if he didn’t deserve to get some sleep. It wasn’t just the temptation of you, yearning, delectable you keeping him up at night. He wasn’t sure if it was because of your attack or a result of planning for every eventuality with Fox, but Rex was feeling paranoid. Every morning, on duty, even in the evening with you in his lap, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end. It was like he was back in the field, sleeping in the open, full kit on and one hand curled around his blaster. No matter the trooper on watch or his knowledge of the enemy’s location, it was always impossible to relax. Because of the constant, insistent feeling he was being watched. 

That’s how he’d felt for five days now. Seen. Observed. Under fucking surveillance. 

He admitted it might have been all the cameras and protocols used by the CG. But Rex had been raised by military bases, had been born breathing the air of structure and order. And not once had he ever felt this creeping awareness on his home turf. 

He’d certainly never felt it on yours. And that was the part that really worried him. He’d learned to trust his gut a long time ago, and the fact that all of his alarm bells were going off while you were safe in his arms…while you slept, recovering from an assault on your body and mind…

He wanted to go home. He wanted to see with his own eyes and feel with his naked, ungloved hands that you were alright. 

Instead, he was sitting through another adjustment to the current crowd control plan for the pro-clone rally, and the anti-protest that was sure to follow. 

“Civilians are likely going to cluster in this sector,” Fox repeated for maybe a third time, gesturing to the holomap. “It’s a clear shot from a lot of domiciles and hot spots. Caf shops and casual shopping. Most of them won’t be protesters. They’ll be rubber-necks just looking to say they were there. There’s a clear sight path to the podium. I want as many troopers there as we can spare, ready to get people out if everything goes to complete shit. Thorn, you and your assignees are to hold the lines between the protesters, anti-protesters, and civilians. You boys are the grid by which we operate. If someone gets violent, you pack ‘em up and return to your post as quickly and cleanly as possible. They go to the drunk tanks to cool down.”

Rex nodded along. He’d had the plan memorized since the first briefing. He just wasn’t used to this level of prep time. Usually, he’d follow a certain Jedi’s first thought and just, well, make it work.  

Fox continued, “Hound, your unit is patrolling the perimeter of the event with the massifs. Do not appear in force. Spread out. Keep the massifs calm. Make no moves unless you hear from either myself or the other commanders.” Hound’s “yes sir” was almost entirely lost, because Fox, clearly exhausted by this point, kept going without pause.

“Thire, you’re to take your unit into the two buildings on either side of the protest site. Keep an eye out. We have very public, very divisive figures in attendance and the last thing I need on my hands is a downed senator. If you see signs of a sniper, if you see a hostile assailant rushing the stage, you sound the alarm and take the shot if you can manage it.” 

Rex then felt his brother’s attention on him, and sat up straighter. Fox’s visor met his own, and he inclined his head, “Captain Rex will be commanding the line between the podium and the crowd while I act as escort to the VIPs. That means that most of my rally unit will be assigned to a different commanding officer while I take a smaller squad to escort public figures to, through, and from the event. It also means that I will be absent for portions of the day, dealing with the struggles of our dear politicians. If any of you, any of you at all have a problem with taking orders from a decorated, battle-hardened commander who just happens not to be of CG origin, too fucking bad. You will follow Rex’s orders as if they come directly from me, understood?”

“Sir, yes sir!” rang through the hall. 

“Damn straight,” Fox growled. “One more thing. Captain Rex will be more noticeable than you lot. He’s a well-known poster boy for the war, thanks to Jedi Master Skywalker, and his armor is bound to attract attention. I’ve requested his help at great sacrifice to his General and the 501st. I’d like to return him in one piece. That means look out for him, Thire, your unit in particular. The anti-protesters will be gunning for a figure like him standing out in the open.”

There were a couple of snickers amongst some of Rex’s more well-known acquaintances, but by and large the sea of red and white helmets regarded him with a mixture of reverence and, dare he say it, protectiveness. He felt like a very well cared for massif. 

Fox dismissed the boys and sat down at the command table, taking off his helmet and rubbing his eyes. Somehow, the circles under them had gotten darker, “Sorry Rex, didn’t mean to make you sound like a damsel in distress.”

“You didn’t,” he chuckled. “I appreciate the manpower and the potential cover fire. You may have given them an overinflated view of my military record, though.”

“Please,” Fox rolled his eyes. “How many times have you been medalled?”

“Five out of seven times it was instigated by Amidala,” Rex snorted. “She gives me all the medals Skywalker isn’t allowed to accept.”

His brother let out a weak, but very genuine chuckle, then sobered up, staring glass-eyed down at the table, “This needs to be over.”

“Yeah,” Rex shook his head. “I’ve…had a bad feeling for most of the week. Like something’s wrong and I just don’t know what.”

Fox nodded, “Something is going to go wrong at the rally. I feel it. But there’s no way to prepare for every eventuality. All I can do is hope not too many people get hurt.”

Rex scanned his brother up and down, the tired eyes, the slumped shoulders, the gray streak in his hair, “You need a vacation.”

That prompted a single, hollow laugh in the back of Fox’s throat, “Sure, I’ll just submit my PTO request to the emperor. Shed the armor, turn off my comms. How’s Naboo this time of year?”

“I’ll have a word with Ularen’s secretary, she can join you.”

Fox sat up stick-straight, “That’s not funny, Rex.”

He shrugged, “I’m not laughing.”

“That’s…I can’t,” Fox shook his head, eyes wide and sad. “She’s not, we’re not-”

“How about this,” Rex leaned forward on his knees. “I promise, when I get back to the Resolute, I’ll get her to comm you.”

But his brother glared back at him, “She won’t do it. She’s…we’re not on the best of terms.”

“All the more reason,” Rex insisted. “She’s on a warship, Fox. You will never forgive yourself if she gets hurt and you didn’t get the chance to tell her whatever you need to tell her. Trust me.”

Fox looked away and stiffly put his helmet back on, coming back to his persona diligent control, “You’re a meddlesome idiot, brother.”

“Look who’s talking.”

*********************************

Your fingers were stroking his cock again. 

“Ah, cyare,” Rex mumbled into your hairline, blinking in the flare of morning light. He reached down and removed your hand from his shorts. “None of that.”

You groaned, leaned forward, and scraped your teeth on his bare chest, “C’mon, Rex. You know I’m well enough.” 

“Not till another, not-motivated-by-sex medic says so,” he gathered you up, pressing sweet kisses to your face, which was looking brighter and healthier by the day. “You’ve got your check-up tomorrow. Not too long now.”

“How do you have this much self-control?” you whined.

“A man can do anything with the right motivation,” he grinned down at you. Stars, you were beautiful. “I’m excited too.”

“Hmm, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he trailed his nose across your cheek, blowing warm air down to your ear. Your breath hitched. “Nothing I want to do more than sink into you, feel you wrapped around me again…except, maybe, lap at your pretty clit until you spill down my chin.”

You let out a tiny high pitched mewl, “That’s not fair, Rex. I’m so horny it hurts, and you’re leaving soon.”

Just like clockwork, his vambrace began beeping from across the room. 

Rex kissed your nose, “You haven’t exactly been making this easy on me either, cyarika.” He reached down to grab at your hips. “The kissing and the stroking and the grinding. But I’ve been very nice, I know how hard this is for both of us. Just be good for me a bit longer, and I’ll give you everything you want.”

You sighed, properly chastised, “Okay. But maybe I could still come to the rally-”

“Not even if you held a blaster to my head,” Rex interrupted firmly. “We’ve talked about this.”

He got up to go and check the message on his vambrace while you huffed, “I don’t like the idea of you out there, dangled like bait for the worst of the anti-clone movement.”

“Fox and I both agreed that it would be best to keep the protesters focused on a trooper instead of the politicians.” Speaking of his brother, Fox was calling him in for the final briefing before they moved out this afternoon. 

“But if I just waited at a caf shop a few blocks away-”

“I’d be out of my mind with worry the entire time,” he started pulling on his armor. “And I wouldn’t be able to do my job.”

You went quiet, which was surprising. The both of you had gone over this repeatedly last night. Rex could understand your anxiety, but he had his skills, he had his plastoid, and he had an entire branch of the GAR convinced that he needed to be protected at all costs. He suspected Fox felt guilty about using him for this, and was hyping up the troopers about his record, his legion, and maybe even the fact that he had someone to come home to. 

He chanced a glance back at you, and felt his heart seize. You were teary, jaw clenched and staring out the window. 

“Hey,” he strode over, breastplate hanging off him loosely. “Hey now, cyare.”

You threw your arms around him, pressing your body against the ridges of his armor, “Be careful, Rex. Please”

He held you, swaying slightly to the rhythm pounding in his chest, “I will, I promise. Give me ten hours. I’ll be home before you know it.”

“I’ll be watching you on the net,” you sniffed.

“I’ll wave if I see a camera.”

*********************************

That’s how he left you, curled up back under the covers and promising you’d take it easy. You were asleep again almost immediately. 

The briefing was quick, and loading into the transports went by even faster. Fox wanted everyone in position before the first of the protesters gathered. 

The troopers spread through the open space like they’d done it a thousand times. Rex only had to mind his own placement at the north corner of the stage and admire their precision. Fox had trained them well. 

Protesters with homemade accessories (like buttons), colorful signs, and makeshift masks to look like GAR helmets started filtering in. Most of them looked like the pro-clone crowd. 

An hour later, some anti-protesters arrived. The grounds became considerably louder, the air charged with electricity. Rex ordered a screaming man who approached the stage to be taken to the drunk tanks. 

News crews pulled their speeders up, unloading all of their expensive equipment. They looked considerably calmer than Rex felt. 

The space filled up faster than he could have anticipated. Every time he scanned the area, the burgeoning pile of bodies seemed to have multiplied. But the lines of troopers were holding well. 

Another hour passed before the speakers arrived. Fox sent a ping to each commanding officer, and a moment later Bail Organa, Padme Amidala, several representatives, a net star, a reclusive philanthropist, and - Rex’s eyebrows raised - Shor Ryesim filled onto the stage. He guessed Shor wasn’t lying when he said he was the organizer of the event.

Organa’s speech opened the rally. It was well-written, level, and reassuring. Rex never understood what special quality made someone a good public speaker, but he was sure he didn’t possess it. Bail apparently had it in spades. Even the anti-clone folks calmed down a little. 

The speakers began to blend together as Rex continued to scan the crowd. The representatives were supportive, if a little dull. He couldn’t blame them, how hard must it be to follow Organa? The net star came off vapid and brief, but at least he was using his position for something meaningful. The philanthropist looked almost embarrassed to be present. And Amidala…well, she was Amidala. Direct and spirited, passionate and definitive. She kept turning in his direction throughout the speech, and Rex fought the urge to give her the recognition she deserved. As far as the public knew, he was not familiar with her in the slightest. 

The crowd began to pick up on her energy. Loud clashes of voices rose up. Rex caught a few troopers keeping brawlers apart. The anti-crowd began hurling insults and, in one case, a rock in her direction. It missed by a hair.

“Don’t bother with the drunk tank for that one!” Rex commanded. Amidala and the other politicians were ushered off the stage. And of course this was all streamed across the net. Skywalker was going to kill him.

“Are they calling it?” He commed Fox. “The crowd is rising.” And he wasn’t exaggerating. The pros were clamoring for the anti’s arrest. Insults and accusations flew.

“Hold on,” came his brother’s answer. “No, the organizer wants to give his speech, finish up with what they came to do. I’m taking the others out of here.”

Rex felt a stab of annoyance. Fucking Shor…

“Hold steady, boys,” he said to his troopers. “We’ve got one more speaker, then they’re gonna send ‘em home.”

Ryesim took to the podium with very little ceremony. He shouted into the mics, trying to maintain the attention of his audience. 

“Friends! Friends!” he called. “If you’ll lend me just a bit of your patience! Remember, this event is for changing minds, not causing violence!”

Rex rolled his eyes and ordered two more brawlers led away. 

“However, we must be willing to fight to defend what is good and just!”

What the fuck is he doing? Rex called for his troopers to be on high alert. Shor was apparently abandoning the idea of de-escalation.

“Enough violence has been committed in the name of slowing progress!” Shor yelled, smacking the top of the podium. “We are here to demand the full rights of clones be recognized! We, as full citizens of this great Republic, have a responsibility to understand the plight of those less fortunate than us! To put ourselves in the way of those who would harm our clone compatriots, who are no less valuable, no less deserving than we are. Citizens of Coruscant, we are under threat! A war has started, much like the one clones heroically pursue across the galaxy! Too many clone supporters have been met with barbarity on the streets where they walk every day!”

The screen behind the podium alighted, showing the image of a young man, nose clearly broken, with glass sticking out of his cheek. 

“Take Kiran Serril!” Shor shouted, spit flying from his mouth. “Brutalized in his own home for a sticker on his door supporting clone citizenship!”

The mob screamed in unison. The lines of troopers between pro and anti groups were starting to break down. 

“Fox,” Rex growled. “We need to end this. Now.”

Fox’s response came immediately, “Copy. I’ll comm the others. I’ve just put the VIPs in their transports. I’m on my way back.”

Shor was still screaming, riling the throng up with yet another disturbing image, “Ellebet Diranae is an elderly retiree, but that did not stop thugs from following her home and giving her a concussion for daring to read a pro-clone pamphlet in her local caf joint!”

All Rex could see were angry faces, brutal intent. He was done waiting.

“Form a wall boys!” he yelled, and his troopers started pushing the protesters back from the stage without hesitation. The ones keeping the two factions apart began getting serious, and the line down the middle reformed. “Blasters at stun only! Order them to disperse! Hound, get in here now, start getting those on the fringes to go home! Leave the massifs in the transports, they’ll just incite panic!”

He was so busy he didn’t hear Shor’s next introduction, didn’t see the transition to another exploitive image. Only when the crowd began falling back did Rex begin to register words again.

“- worst of all, this heroic, kind woman is a medic! She saves lives for a living! She lives in Coruscant, like all of you, not too far from here! I’ve known her since childhood, and they demolished her for the crime of wearing pins on a backpack!”

Rex’s hot, racing blood suddenly turned to ice. Slowly, or maybe it only seemed that way in the chaos, he turned back to look at the new picture on the netscreen.

No.

*********************************

You were having trouble breathing.

Wheezing, you raised a hand to touch your netscreen, running a finger down the little stage made of data and pixels. You hovered over Rex, who had his back turned to the mile-high image behind the podium. He was frantically trying to get the crowd under control. 

Shor was shaking his fist, shouting like a lunatic. You wanted to squash him.

You caught the moment Rex turned and saw the screen behind him, could practically feel the moment he registered what had happened.

Shor had shown your face, battered as all hell. With multiple pictures, plastered on a surface taller than your building. From multiple angles, so the damage couldn’t be ignored. 

Shor had screamed your name to the entire city, the entire planet. With that, someone could find your address. Find your place of work. 

You’d be on the news in a matter of hours. You and those other poor souls Shor undoubtedly didn’t get permission to showcase. You sobbed. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

As you watched, Rex prowled towards the Twi’Lek, who didn’t even notice a murderous clone in his periphery. Fox appeared on the other side of the stage, and rushed to intercept. You weren’t sure he would make it in time. 

Rex ripped the microphone clear off its stand, the podium screeching in protest. That move gave Fox the time he needed to get in between the two and slam Shor to the surface of the podium. He put his other hand on Rex’s wrist, and even though it was hidden behind the rest of his body, you knew Fox was stopping your boyfriend from drawing his blaster. 

A moment while they stood, staring each other down through their visors. Finally, Rex stepped back, and Fox cuffed Shor. With his other hand, the commander looked to be talking into his comms. Your brutalized face disappeared from behind them. 

A moment later, your own netscreen went black.

[suchine-toki]

Top 10 Gintaka moments

(Arranged chronologically because it was too difficult to choose. Spoilers ahead.)

1. Takasugi's laugh

After many encounters challenging the dojo, Gintoki sees Takasugi laugh for the first time, which becomes a core memory of his, a symbol of how things used to be and what he wants to preserve (ch. 517).

2. The promise

Surrounded by enemies, Takasugi asks Gintoki why he decided to join the war, to which Gintoki replies that, like him, it was not for a noble cause. At this, Takasugi recognizes that the two are good-for-nothing warriors, but asks Gintoki to take care of their sensei in case he dies. Likewise, Gintoki asks Takasugi to stay alive (ch. 516).

3. Gintoki's tears

Right after their sensei's death, Takasugi furiously runs towards Gintoki until, for a split second, he sees him crying. This becomes the last thing he saw with his left eye, a core memory that reminds him of the pain and grief they experienced (ch. 520).

4. Reunion at the festival

After 10 years of not seeing each other, Takasugi sneaks up behind Gintoki and threatens him with his sword, commenting on how easy it was and that he has become weak. He also tells him about his plan to kill the Shogun, claiming that within him there is a black beast that seeks revenge. At the same time, he confronts Gintoki for looking away from the past, making him unable to understand his feelings. To this, Gintoki responds that it's a shame that he underestimated him, which can be read in both a physical and emotional sense. It's assumed that they separate without another word (chs. 30-31).

5. They were the same

During a conversation with Nobume, Oboro asks her if Gintoki and Takasugi look like their sensei, to which she answers no, that the true resemblance was between them, since both had eyes full of sadness. As she says that, Gintoki and Takasugi can be seen passing each other, but only the former turns around to check that the latter is gone. It's worth mentioning that Gintoki warned Takasugi to be careful if he saw him walking down the street in chapter 97, but in the end he decided to not do anything (ch. 398).

6. Confession and realization

After their fight, with both of them on the floor, tired and full of injuries, Takasugi opens up to Gintoki about his suffering. He confesses to him that his face was the last thing he saw before losing his left eye, how devastating it was to see him cry, and the enormous survivor's guilt he feels, because he understands how much Gintoki loved Shouyo. To this, Gintoki responds that he didn't choose him, but simply knew what was important to theirsensei, thus lifting the burden from Takasugi's shoulders. Not only that, but Gintoki also confesses that, despite everything, he continues to see him as a fellow disciple of the Shouka Sonjuku and a comrade, whose soul he will protect (ch. 520).

7. Sword exchange

After a long coma, Takasugi awakens in Rakuyo and throws his sword to save Bansai. Likewise, Gintoki launches his bokuto to save Shinpachi, leaving them both unarmed. This is when they decide to take each other's sword and protect what is important to the other, reinforcing the message that a sword is made to protect the soul, and on other occasions that it even embodies it. Afterwards, they pass through hordes of enemies in order to see each other again, defending the other from an imminent attack and retrieving their weapon while locking eyes and making snarky remarks (ch. 573).

8. Pep talk

While everyone on Earth seems defeated, Gintoki hears a familiar voice over the radio. Hundreds of kilometers, far up in space, Takasugi tells him that they have everything under control and encourages him to continue fighting. Likewise, Gintoki assures him that on his side they haven't lost yet, and playfully encourages him, asking if he has already been reduced to junk. Despite being injured, Takasugi tells him to be ready when he comes for him, to which Gintoki smiles (ch. 650).

9. Let's rescue sensei

The greatest tragedy in Takasugi's life is not only the death of his teacher, but also that Gintoki had to be the one to kill him. Aware that he has little left to live, he admits that now he can be a little more honest with what he really wants to do. After fighting Gintoki as a way to punish himself, he's now able to recognize that he wishes to fight alongside him, while also wanting to alleviate his suffering by sharing the burden of his actions that day. Upon hearing this, the serious expression on Gintoki's face turns to astonishment at being able to achieve mutual understanding and once again have a common goal that is deeply personal to both of them (ch. 682).

10. Born under the same star

While Gintoki's eyes reflect the despair he feels at having to strike Takasugi's body, he remembers their childhood together. Gintoki fought very hard to protect everyone, but Takasugi fought even harder to protect him, and although Gintoki was definitely not ready to lose him, Takasugi was content with the idea that he had prevented him from killing their sensei once more. Knowing that he has little time left, it's Gintoki's turn to be more sincere. He embraces Takasugi and reassures him, acknowledging that he did indeed manage to protect him and that he wished they could have drunk together more often. But Takasugi tells Gintoki he doesn't want to hear him like this and he asks him not to send him off with a sad face. Mustering willpower, Gintoki smiles and tells him to wait for him in hell, which becomes the last sight from Takasugi's right eye as he smiles back before dying. No longer able to restrain his emotions, Gintoki weeps as he watches the sunset (ch. 703).

Part (1) (2) (3) (4)

[dramaturgical-sense]

succession fic rec list

In honour of succession s4 coming out, I thought I’d make a list of my favourite succession fics. These are all either romangerri or tomgreg, but other characters tend to feature fairly prominently. I’ve split these fics up into two categories: missing moments in canon and fix-it fics. The first category features fics that stick closely to the events of canon and are true to the tone of the show. The latter includes fics that try and give the characters more functional and healthier relationships, and are more optimistic. Fics with an asterisk are my personal favourite. 

As always, check the tags and warnings on ao3 before reading. And without further ado, see below for the fics :)

romangerri

missing moments in canon

the nutcracker [M] by @thefudge [1,218 words] - “Roman. Behave.” (or Gerri and Roman see The Nutcracker. Holiday prompt). 

This fic would fit right in with one of the early s2 episodes, it nails their dynamic from that era perfectly. It’s a romangerri classic: sexual-but-not-really-sexual contact, and its super hot. A must-read.

Must Be Love [T] by @everybodyilovedies [2,719] - On the plane ride back from Tuscany, Kendall and Roman get some time alone to talk about dickpicgate, and the woman at the (attempted) receiving end of it. 

Even if you aren’t a romangerri shipper, I would recommend this fic just for the hilarious dynamic between Kendall and Roman. The author manages to tease the possibility of a reunion between Roman and Gerri, while also staying true to the events of canon. 

the true encounter [M] by wellprince [1,354] - “Hell yeah he is,” Roman says. “He’s about to splash his cum all over this great white nation of ours. And I’m the invisible hand behind the handjob. Look, you’d love him if you met him.” That’s probably not true. Gerri doesn’t love anyone. Whatever. 

This fic is the perfect coda to ep 3.06. Not only is it really well-written, it also functions as a great analysis of Roman’s character, his sexuality issues and explores what pulls him towards both Mencken and Gerri.

**You Could Make a Killing [M] by gaycoruscant [3,633] -  After watching Logan slap Roman, Gerri struggles with conflicting loyalties. 

This fic explores the contradictions of Gerri’s relationship with Roman and her support of his father. Gerri is beautifully written - she’s multi-faceted, and the author does a really good job getting into her head. The writing is beautiful, and there’s a delicious tension between Roman and Gerri throughout. 

fix-it fics

live near your fire as winter blows [E] by @alittledizzy [10,047] - Roman invites Gerri to a cabin in the Catskills and they manage to work through some (not all, but some) of their shit. 

Roman and Gerri get their shit together in a way that feels very in-character. I especially enjoy how the author has handled the age gap - this fic does not shy away from the fact that Gerri is an older woman, which makes both her character and the sex scene feel really natural and authentic. 

Ring the Bells That Still Can Ring [E] by moreculturelesspop [1,800] - Roman considers fatherhood and an alternative life with Gerri. 

This fic is exactly what I imagine the inside of Roman’s head sounds like. It’s very well-written and presents a really interesting study of Roman’s views on parenting and his feelings towards Gerri. Fantastic Roman POV.

holiday [T] by @dollsome-does-tumblr [2,107] - Gerri steals Roman away for breakfast on the last morning in Tuscany. Set after 3.09. 

If you’re worried about what will happen to Roman and Gerri in s4, or still hurting after the s3 finale, read this fic. This fic gives a real sense of closure to the events in Italy and still leaves open the possibility of a reunion in the future.

tomgreg

missing moments in canon

**the old way with the sledge [M] by @round-thedecay [4,390] - Tom takes care of Greg, with many layers of bargaining, withheld information, and slaughterhouse imagery in between. Meanwhile: Tom's marriage will be a slow death.

I can literally hear Tom and Greg’s voices in my head as I read the dialogue in this fic. Even though Shiv only shows up at the end, she feels like such a presence throughout this fic. Both her character and relationship with Tom are really well-handled.

Subterranean Homesick Blues [M] by @envius [9,077] - After a month of separation, Tom gets everything he thought he wanted.

The author really understands the dynamic between Tom/Greg and Tom/Shiv, with both relationships feeling balanced and in-character. This is MY s4, so no matter what happens in the show, I know I’ve always got this fic. 

Three Legs [E] by @neroxsporus [6,603] - Tom and Greg celebrate Greg's moving up. It's hard to say who gets more out of it.

Excellent coda to ep 2.04, where Greg uses Tom as a human footstool. This fic nails the weird, homoerotic aspects of their relationship and explores the culture of toxic masculinity and power at Waystar. Very funny and in-character.

**Saturn's Stomach [M] by baffledbear [6,549] - Things take a turn for the worse when Logan invites Tom and Greg on a secluded hunting trip in Virginia. Deep in the wilderness and with nowhere else to run, the pair must rely on each other in order to survive a deadly game.

This fic feels like it is written by someone who really understands Tom’s arc and what the narrative is trying to convey. The ending is incredibly satisfying, tying in many of the themes from the show. The relationship between Tom and Greg develops in a really plausible manner, and while they are endgame, Tom and Shiv’s relationship is still incredibly meaningful throughout. 

fix-it fics

put your money where your mouth is tonight [E] by asphaltworld [6,964] - Greg smokes and tries to think of what to do, like, with his life in general. 

Greg loves being a sugar baby: The fic. This is a very plausible take on Greg’s character, and the author does a really good job delving into Greg’s POV and his thoughts on Tom. This is a fun, lighthearted read that fits in well with the end of s3.

[rosedavid]

Carlos’s Greatest Lizardventure

5 times Carlos puts up with Lou (+1 time he takes comfort in him)

Tarlos | Rated T | 6K words

Tag list under cut:

@danieljradcliffe @jddryder​ @illbeyourreasonwhy​ @goodiecornbread @thisbuildinghasfeelings​ @wandering-night19​

[bread-making-vikings]

.

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

24 in 2024

i haven't seen any of these floating around yet, so i thought i'd get one started! here are 24 books i want to read in 2024 (and a bonus readerly goal):

Welcome to Your World: How the Built Environment Shapes Our Lives by Sarah Williams Goldhagen

Obsolescence: An Architectural History by Daniel M. Abramson

Offended Sensibilities by Alisa Ganieva

The Night, The Night by Rodrigo Blanco Calderón

Dayswork by Chris Bachelder and Jennifer Habel

Dawn by Sevgi Soysal

Trashlands by Alison Stine

The Girl in Red by Christina Henry

How to be Eaten by Maria Adelmann

The Way Spring Arrives and Other Stories edited by Yu Chen and Regina Kanyu Wang

The Scourge Between Stars by Ness Brown

Black Tide by KC Jones

A Half-Built Garden by Ruthanna Emrys

The Ambergris Trilogy by Jeff VanderMeer

The Great Cities Duology by NK Jemisin

The Spider and her Demons by sydney khoo

A Shining by Jon Fosse

Bad Cree by Jessica Johns

Other Terrors: An Inclusive Anthology edited by Vince A Liaguno and Rena Mason

Self-Portrait with Nothing by Aimee Pokwatka

Always Coming Home by Ursula K. Le Guin

Unexpected Places to Fall From, Unexpected Places to Land by Malcolm Devlin

Always North by Vicki Jarrett

At the Edge of the Woods by Masatsugu Ono

Bonus Readerly Goal: i'm gonna try REALLY hard to only buy a book after i read five (5), this year (pre-orders DNI). gotta get that backlist under control SOMEhow, right??

notes on the color-coding: the green books are Just Because books (with a couple little red riding hood adjacent retellings in there, which is writing-project-related). a few of these came in a translation subscription box, and i am Interested in Architecture, and i'd love to read more of both this year.

the blue ones are bookmarked for nano prep (i wanna write something fucked up about space this year, i think, it's still cooking). i know it's early for that, but The Vibes™ have to marinate for a while. will probably add some haunted house books to this part of the list!

lastly, the purple ones are driscoll adjacent! filling my words well with related vibes worked well, this year, and i want to do that again next year. since i read through the entirety of my previous ~driscoll vibes~ stack last year, i've been restocking it, so most of these are very recently purchased.

(please note that all this color-coding/explanatory text is absolutely optional and Extra™, if you want to play--you can add it if you'd like, but by no means feel Obligated To Do So lol)

tagging @asexualbookbird, @six-of-ravens/@sixofravens-reads, @agardenandlibrary, @freckles-and-books, and anyone else who wants to play!

[mrsniallhoran505]

Good Afternoon Callum Turner Girls!

Theme 192: pics that make me Niagara falls

GACTG! Tag List:

Sometimes tags work sometimes they don't!

If you want to be added to the tag list, send me a message!

@slowsweetlove @ilovemycrayons @devyn4203-blog @ab4eva @b-bradshaw @awkwxrdapple

[batwynn]

Ok so since my last post about Palestine on this blog*, which I spent multiple days writing to try to make it as clear as possible where I stand and how I feel about both what is happening and how people are using their couch activism to do nothing but get internet points against other people on the internet, I’ve received a bunch of ‘go girl give us nothing’ kind of anons praising me for ‘not taking a stance’ or yelling at me for ‘not talking a stance’.

Which, for one. No. Just because don’t talk about everything that I do to support important causes does not mean I don’t do anything. I’m not posting my donation receipts online for your approval.

I’m also… I’m genuinely lost as to how that was the message received. I know I’m autistic af, but don’t feel like that’s what I said at all and I can’t figure out why that’s what people got from it.

This will be another long post with basically the same information as the last one, but put more bluntly. If you are still struggling to understand where I stand, I genuinely don’t know how to help you with this anymore and I’m not spending more energy hashing it out for you.

I thought I said, pretty explicitly, that I think colonizing entities and terrorism is bad. That genocide is bad. I thought it was very clear that I don’t support the murder of many thousands of people—tens of thousands of children. I included the USA in this previous statement explicitly because we are backing a genocide, yet again. (If not, you know, directly doing genocide against people ourselves.) I expressed clearly, I thought, that I did not support anyone killing innocent people, as a reminder to the ‘what-about-ers’, who like to say that people who don’t agree with a genocide ‘cheer on’ what the Hamas did to random citizens. I cant 100% say I know enough about the Hamas and their desires to tell you much more of my thoughts about that. It’s been a constant struggle with misinformation, in general, but a lot of it surrounding them and their beliefs/actions.

I thought it was also pretty clear that I am so far removed from this that I’m constantly aware that me saying anything could be based on wrong, outdated, or mistranslated info at any given point. I’m catching up as fast as I can, continuously educating myself, and voiding years of propaganda from growing up in this shitty ass country with its shitty ass education propaganda system. I mean a lifetime of messages directly from the media, our politicians, teachers, etc. to not pay attention because it’s ’not our problem’ as a country and there’s ’always a war there’ so ‘don’t care about it’ and ‘don’t react.’ Which is part of the reason why I made the original post, because I do care and I am reacting, and it does matter.

So, I guess I have to say it again, because as hard as I tried to get the message through last time, it apparently got lost somewhere.

I do not support the ongoing genocide of Palestine. I do not support the crimes against humanity that I have seen happening there. I do not support murder and terrorism. I do not support the country I am forced to live in, and its involvement in this. (USA)

I do love my Jewish and Muslim friends. I do not believe in a bigoted hatred against either religious grouping based on the actions of some people. I support the Jewish people standing up for Palestine. I do want peace. I do want healing. But I am also aware that peace and healing is something heavily owed to Palestine for many years now, and that it can’t be achieved until something massively changes in how the world and Israel treat them.

Now, if this statement is not clear enough or is said the ‘wrong way’ or isn’t ‘right’ or just isn’t what you want to hear. I’m sorry. I always struggle with communication, and I’m genuinely not good at this. I tried so hard with the last post, and I was still told that I was doing nothing and saying nothing. The only thing I can ask is that you give me the smallest amount of kindness and understanding, and assume that I am trying to communicate compassion for people suffering. Give me the benefit of the doubt, if you can, that I just fucking care about people who are being hurt.

And lastly, please keep your ‘what about’ bullshit out of my inbox. I can’t address every single thing, all the time. I can’t know every single thing, all the time. I’m aware of multiple horrific things happening in the world right now and how important it is to pay attention to them. I do share and talk about them on my side blog* that is dedicated to that kind of thing, but this one thing in particular is something people keep coming to me about in my inbox here and I’m addressing it this one last time.

*Again, my main blog here has always been mostly about my art and projects, and after years of people outright screaming at me to keep it that way and to not include any current events, political, or ‘too personal’ posts I’ve long since moved most of that over to my side blog. Many of you already follow me there or know what blog it is. I am not sharing it again because I’m tired of having personal life things I share being used to hurt me. Also, one last reminder that you can’t have it both ways. You either want to know my personal stuff and political stuff, or you don’t and only want to see my art. You don’t get both. And this will be the last time I address this here.

[starswallowingsea]

this might be sooo late already but im here to ask for any enstars story recs... Go off if you'd like 🛐 thank you user starswallowingsea

OH i feel you on that anon I try to keep up with all the event stories as they release in engstars so i can really get a feel for all the units and that's kinda how i ended up falling in love with some of the characters I wasn't expecting to ehehe. And since my favorite unit is exclusive to the !! era, I kinda just poke around ! era for what seems interesting. I'll throw some recs under the cut though for both eras!

! Era

Steampunk Museum: Focuses on 2wink and Valkyrie and is where the line where Shu says he can tell the twins apart by their hair length comes from! It's just about the two units doing a live to help out with a museum that has undergone renovations and is doing a grand re-opening basically. It's cute and light and really sweet.

Duel: Trickstar v Knights ROUND 2 I think this was a continuation of Sakura Fes which was the first event and I have not read it but it was still pretty easy to understand either way. It is from like 2015 though so fair warning for canon typical transphobia towards Arashi. Another pretty light event.

Kabukimono: Akatsuki v 2wink! Mostly a focus on Akatsuki's developments post-war but there were some really cute moments for Shu and Kuro's relationship as well, and some brief moments with 2wink, as well as Yuta and Souma interactions.

Aquarium: I so wish I read this before Meteor Impact. It does come after MI chronologically but it does a good job of like. Laying down all of Kanata's problems and relationships. If you haven't read MI yet, read this first it will make a lot of sense I promise.

Obligatory Reminiscense stories here. They're all good I haven't read all of them yet but I have read Meteor Impact and Checkmate and it's made me wish I waited to read them for the first time. Spend some time with the units before reading these is my advice.

!! Era

Okay full disclosure, I've only read the events and scout stories that have been released in Eng (and even then, only the scouts they did the auto unlock for the stories + like. Honey Bee and parts of Vagabond and Tales of the Moon) and Crazy:B events so this list is gonna be a little less diverse.

Any Crazy:B story: Literally my favorite unit of all time I cannot even tell you. My suggested reading order is like. Spider -> Hot Limit -> Night Club -> Ariadne -> Obbligato. The only one I haven't read is Sudden Death and that's only because I am Trying to Be Patient and wait for it to come out in Eng <- suffering greatly. Lumping them together so this part doesn't become Crazy:B infodump

Conquest: Hiyori's song event. The song is fantastic and the event did a good job introducing their dynamics in this era imo. Drop a like if you want Ibara to swear more often.

Twin Peaks: 2wink event! If you liked Night Club you should definitely read this since it expounds on a lot of stuff touched upon in Night Club (I really like Night Club can you tell). All about Hinata coming to terms with actually starting to grow apart from Yuta and become his own person along with one last hurrah as identical twins.

A Dark Night's Passing: Double Face introduction! Although DF stories tend to put a lot of focus on Madara, I did still enjoy this event for them. They both have people they want to protect and keep their darker sides away from and really set up some potentially good dynamics. I haven't heard that Spring Evening's Respite (Kohaku's center for DF) was great for them, since it continued to focus on Madara, but their intro event was great and it's pretty timely to read it with their Climax coming out in a few days.

And this will be a scout stories section! The scout stories tend to mix people from different units together for their interactions which is always really fun to watch how those play out. I particularly enjoyed Reloaded which was the Tomoya Izumi feature with the "Zombie Apocalypse" happening while they were handcuffed together. It's very silly but also has a really good Izumi Senior Advice moment at the end. Also shout out to Honey Bee and ASOBI-- *I am forcibly removed from the post*

[daughterofhecata]

End of 2022 ??? Fic Rec List

[Hatte ja schon angekündigt, auch für 2022 wieder eine Fic Rec List machen zu wollen, und hier ist sie jetzt also. Beinhaltet: Link und Kurzbeschreibung des/der Autor_in, Raiting, getaggte Charaktere und wordcount. Die Reihenfolge ist streng chronologisch (außer bei zusammengehörigen stories). Und ich führe ausschließlich beendete Stories auf. Sorry, dass der Post so lang ist, aber es fühlt sich falsch an, irgendwo arbitrarily ein readmore zu setzen.]

Distractions (ff.de/ao3) by ramenturtle (@maislabyrinthsverirrung); E; Peter/Skinny; 1164 Wörter

Während Skinny in der Bibliothek versucht ein Geschäft klar zu machen, wird er von einem außerordentlich konzentrierten Peter Shaw und seinem Bleistift gestört.

Totgesagte leben länger (ff.de/ao3) by 4yana/Ann4yana (@thymelessink); P18/M; Justus/Hugenay, Peter, Bob; 16838 Wörter

Die drei Fragezeichen bekommen den Auftrag, einen ihnen bekannten Dieb zu jagen. Besonders Justus macht der Fall diesmal zu schaffen. 

Der unzuverlässige Erzähler by @pointwhitmark

Renaissance (ff.de/ao3); E; Peter/Cotta, Cotta/Reynolds; 7954 Wörter

Peter will ein Fantasie Cottas Wirklichkeit werden lassen und kommt noch spät in dessen Büro. Schließlich erfährt er auch noch ein gut gehütetes Geheimnis und ihm wird ein sehr spezielles Angebot gemacht.

Von Füchsen und Telefonen (ff.de/ao3); E; Cotta/Reynolds, Peter/Cotta; 11652 Wörter

„So, du und Reynolds. Kann ich mir irgendwie nicht vorstellen.“ ODER Cotta erzählt Peter von seinem ersten Zusammentreffen mit Reynolds und die logische Konsequenz sind Telefonsex und philosophische Gespräche. 

Vom Bittersüßen und Unbegreifbaren (ff.de/ao3); T; Cotta/Reynolds,  Peter/Cotta; 7105 Wörter

Ein weiteres Telefonat zwischen Peter und Cotta; über Hochzeiten und Tragödien.

Zwischenspiele, Träume und beste Freunde (ff.de/ao3); E; Cotta/Peter, Cotta/Reynolds, Peter/Reynolds; 25202 Wörter

Weitere Geschichten von Cotta und Reynolds und was Peters Unterbewusstsein so daraus macht. 

Weihnachten ist für die Kinder (ff.de/ao3); E; Cotta/Reynolds, Peter/Cotta; 32395 Wörter

Cotta und Peter sehen sich in Rocky Beach wieder. Cotta erzählt von einer eskalierenden Weihnachtsfeier, über seinen neuen vierbeinigen Mitbewohner bis hin zu (k)einer Schwangerschaft.    Series

Manchmal lohnt sich ein Einbruch (ff.de/ao3); E; Peter/Cotta, Cotta/Reynolds, Peter/Reynolds; 6597 Wörter

Als Stand-alone lesbar. Peter, schon länger in Rocky Beach als Einbrecher unterwegs, bricht aus Versehen ausgerechnet bei Kommissar Reynolds ein und wird zu allem Überfluss von Inspektor Cotta dabei erwischt. Die beiden Polizisten sind aber bereit, von einer Verhaftung und Anzeige anzusehen – gegen eine gewisse Gegenleistung. 

Der große Knall (ff.de/ao3); E; Cotta/Peter, Cotta/Reynolds, Peter/Reynolds; 33443 Wörter

Peter erfährt, wie für Cotta und Reynolds erst alles sehr viel schlimmer wird, ehe es besser wird. Außerdem erfährt er, dass Cotta eine kalifornische Kulturtechnik nicht beherrscht und bekommt eine weitere seiner geheimsten Fantasien in die Tat umgesetzt.

Zum Geburtstag (ff.de/ao3) by 4yana/Ann4yana; P12/G; Justus/Victor; 2233 Wörter

Peter und Justus beschatten nachts eine Schmugglerbande. Als der Käufer auftaucht, nimmt sich Justus vor, zwei Fliegen mit einer Klappe zu schlagen. 

I always say the wrong things (ff.de/ao3) by Chreaders; P18; Peter/Skinny, 4294 Wörter

Obwohl Peter dachte, er wäre besser auf diese Wörter vorbereitet gewesen, fühlte es sich an als hätte ihm jemanden ein Eimer kaltes Wasser übergeschüttet. Immerhin schien Skinny nicht aufzufallen, was in Peters Kopf vorging. Oder wenn er etwas merkte, sagte er zumindest nichts dazu. Wahrscheinlich war es ihm auch einfach egal.  - Peter macht sich viel zu viele Gedanken, Skinny vielleicht ein bisschen zu wenig -

One week (ff.de/ao3) by @manahiel; G; Cotta, Goodween, assorted other Rocky Beach Cops; 9040 Wörter

Es ist Goodweens erste Woche im Rocky Beach Police Department und bisher hätte alles nicht schlechter laufen können: die Kollegen, mit denen er sich gut versteht, sind angeblich korrupt und Cotta, um den sich das Ganze zu drehen scheint, nimmt ihn mit zu einem Einsatz zu den "Drei Fragezeichen" - irgendeiner ominösen Gruppe, von der Goodween sich noch nicht sicher ist, wer oder was sie sind. (Oder: wie Goodween in den Besitz seiner ersten Visitenkarte der Drei Fragezeichen kam und sich beinahe niemals mit Cotta und den anderen angefreundet hätte)

Postisometrische Relaxation (ff.de/ao3) by @dodo157; E; Peter/Cotta, Jeffrey, Justus, Bob; 14019 Wörter

Peter. Cotta. Fitnessstudio. Sport frei! 

Happy Valentine’s Day (ff.de/ao3) by Begon; P18/M; Skinny/Dylan; 1793 Wörter

Dylan gibt Skinny einen weiteren Grund, den Valentinstag zu hassen. 

What’s Almost Killing Me Is Being Sober (ff.de/ao3) by Tiargo; P16/M; Skinny/OC; 2123 Wörter

„Sind die zwei Minuten um?“ Jenna sah auf ihr Handy, dann auf den Test den sie zwischen ihren Fingern hielt. Und nur der kurze Augenblick in dem sie erstarrte, verriet Skinny was er wissen musste, sie war schwanger. 

GOT YOUR NAME ON MY ASS TATTOOED (ff.de/ao3) by 400Lux (@keravnous); P18; Skinny/Bob; 10569 Wörter

Skinner und Stan besuchen einen Stripclub, Skinner kocht über vor jealousy, jealousy und markiert sein Territorium. [skinny/stan 18+], inspo von momdailykos ohrring!au 

Sommerhitze (ff.de/ao3) by motherfucking_vigilance (@maxwellshimbo); E; Justus/Peter/Bob; 5346 Wörter

Justus kommt nach einer Studienreise endlich wieder nach Hause. Peter und Bob erwarten ihn schon.

Mitternächtliches Gedankenkarussell (ff.de/ao3) by Anaho; not rated; Peter/Skinny; 445 Wörter

Auch Mitten in der Nacht wird Peter nun von Gedanken an Skinny geplagt, doch dieses Mal missfallen ihm die Gedanken nicht so sehr wie sie sollten…

Kleines Kätzchen (ff.de/ao3) by Anaho; T; Peter/Skinny; 1471 Wörter

“Stört dich etwa der Gedanke, Shaw?”, fragte Skinny nachdem sie sich voneinander gelöst hatten. “Vielleicht”, gab Peter offen zu. Ein kleines Lächeln zeichnete sich auf seinem Gesicht ab. “Vielleicht würde ich den Leuten gerne zeigen, dass du doch einen Besitzer hast. Jemanden, zu dem du immer wieder zurückkommst” “Und wie würdest du das machen? Etwa mit nem kleinen Lederhalsband?”

Niemandes Tochter (ff.de/ao3) by nitrosyl (@lesen-schreiben-bruchrechnen); P18; Brittany; 5236 Wörter

Lügnerin, Betrügerin, Diebin. Mutter Märtyrin. Sie hat diesen liebevollen, weichen Jungen ruiniert, das weiß Brittany. Sie nimmt alles und gibt nichts. Die gefallene Frau. Sie lässt sich zerstören, für eine Nacht innerhalb von vier Wänden, mit jemandem, den sie nicht kennt. Ist er anders als andere? Sie weiß nicht, zu wem man betet. Sie geht auf die Knie. Sie sollte sich schämen. Aber da ist nur Leere. 

Gespenster im Kopf (ff.de/ao3) by @moonyinatrenchcoat; not rated; Bob/Skinny; 8577 Wörter

Skinny spukt einiges durch den Kopf. Bob macht das ganze erst schlimmer, dann besser. 

beneath the rose tendrils (ff.de/ao3) by Peaches Allister (@bruisesandbitemarks); P18; Justus/Skinny; 6533 Wörter

Gemeinsam mit seinen Kollegen verfolgt Justus die Spur zweier Drogendealer und kehrt nicht mehr zurück - und das ausgerechnet an dem Tag, an dem er mit Kochen dran ist! Skinny ist nicht für seinen langen Geduldsfaden bekannt. Besonders dann nicht, wenn er hungrig ist. Er beschließt, ihm den Arsch zu retten. Natürlich nur um an seine heißgeliebte Lasagne zu kommen! [Justus X Skinny - slightly established relationship] 

Einen Schritt voraus (ff.de/ao3) by 4yana/Ann4yana; P16/T; Justus/Victor, Peter, Bob; 4687 Wörter

Bei dem Versuch, wertvolle Gemälde zurückzuholen, wird Justus angefahren und landet im Krankenhaus. 

Muttertocher (ff.de/ao3) by nitrosyl; P16; Brittany; 4915 Wörter

Was ist sie: ein Teufel, eine Hexe, die gefallene Frau. Sie hintergeht und sie zerstört. Sie verführt und belügt. Sie nimmt alles und gibt nichts. Wenn es ohnehin jeder denkt, wieso sollte sie es dann nicht wahrmachen? Brittany wird auf freien Fuß gesetzt, nachdem der Franzose und der Nachtschatten des Jaccard-Gemäldes nicht habhaft werden konnten – aber sie braucht die beiden nicht. Sie hat längst etwas anderes ins Auge gefasst, sie fühlt keine Scham; sie will, was sie verdient. Vielleicht auch ein bisschen Rache. 

Wetteinsätze (ff.de/ao3) by @manahiel; G; Caroline/Monique, Cotta/Goodween; Justus, Peter, Bob; 2136 Wörter

Monique hielt Caroline sanft am Oberarm fest, bevor diese ihrem armen Bruder, der seine Worte bestimmt wirklich nicht auf diese Weise gemeint hatte, noch den Kopf abriss, lächelte ihr augenzwinkernd zu und baute sich dann vor Cotta und Goodween auf, rollte probehalber ihre Schultern zurück. „Lass mich das mal regeln, Caro. - Also, Jungs, was haltet ihr von einer Wette?" Grinsend sah sie zu ihnen hinauf. Goodween verlagerte sein Gewicht schon den ganzen Tag auf sein rechtes Bein, weil er letzte Nacht bei einem Bar-Einsatz an der Stelle etwas abbekommen hatte. Cotta war sowieso immer übermüdet. Das würde viel zu einfach werden.

 Oder: Cotta und Goodween verlieren eine Wette.

Ein Angebot von Zärtlichkeit (ff.de/ao3) by nitrosyl; P18; Peter/Skinny/Kelly; 28779 Wörter

Etwas weckt Peter. Neben ihm schläft Kelly, aber das Zweite, was er sieht, ist ein bloßer Rücken: Jemand sammelt seine Anziehsachen von ihrem Schlafzimmerfußboden auf. Sie haben gestern auf der Party einen jungen Mann mit nach Hause genommen – dass es ausgerechnet dieser junge Mann ist, das erwartet Peter nach dem Aufwachen nicht. | Kelly x Peter x Skinny | College-AU

Kids and drunk tell the truth (ff.de/ao3) by October_Blonde; G; Justus, Peter, Bob, Cotta; 2281 Wörter

Nach einer Schlägerei landen die drei Detektive bei Inspektor Cotta. Während Bob alles lustig findet und Justus nicht aufhören kann zu Fachsimpeln, ehe er seine Existenz hinterfragt, kann Peter nicht aufhören mit dem Inspektor zu flirten. 

Unvermeidbar (ff.de/ao3) by @manahiel; G; Cotta/Goodween; Justus, Peter, Bob; 2760 Wörter

Egal, wo Cotta ist - irgendwie schaffen es die drei Fragezeichen immer in seiner Nähe aufzutauchen, auch, wenn er eigentlich gerade sehr gerne mit Goodween alleine sein würde.

Intoxicated (ff.de/ao3) by Tiargo; P16/M; Skinny/Dylan, Skinny/Peter; 10706 Wörter

Skinny muss erleben, dass Liebe ein Gefängnis sein kann in das er sich selbst gesperrt hat. 

Bubbles (ff.de/ao3) by @crazy-walls; P6/G; Bubbles, Cotta, Caroline; 775 Wörter

Weihnachtsvorbereitungen im Hause Cotta aus einer ganz besonderen Perspektive.

Bobby (ff.de/ao3) by @pointwhitmark; E(ao3locked); Bob/Skinny, Bob/Cotta, mentioned Bob/Kelly; 3831 Wörter MIND THE TAGS

Bob hat Mist gebaut. Bob braucht dringend Geld. Bob sieht jünger aus als er ist. Skinny hat die richtigen Kontakte, um das zu Geld zu machen. Die Aktion nimmt eine bedrohliche Wendung, als Cotta sich als ‚Kunde‘ entpuppt.

Außerdem eigentlich alles von @alintheshitposter (ff.de/ao3) zB Luxuskörper (Plural) (ff.de/ao3) und @peppsta (ff.de/ao3) zB Eine Pause (ff.de/ao3)

[lain-at-the-gay-bar]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! Get to know your mutuals and followers ⭐️

HI LUCKY!!!

HI PEANUT!!! :D

uhm ok. minecraft, chocolate milk, discord calls with friends, traveling and pictures of cute animals behind computers !!

[harbingerofwhump]

"Of course they cancelled shadow and bone, the writing was messy/terrible" ok but do you really think netflix cares that much about the Art Of Storytelling? C'mon now