#news flash so many canon fics are not that good

[amywritesthings]

god it is exhausting having to go to the ao3 subreddit and constantly remind high-horsed canon writers that using reader insert fics as their proverbial 'marysue' punching bag isn't cute.

'i want to lift up fic writers, but not those kinds' -- see how much that mindset makes you a damn bozo?

canon fics can be just as cringey as oc or reader insert. reader insert writers deserve as many flowers and accolades as any other fanfiction writer putting their time and heart into new stories.

[urhoneycombwitch]

plan b

___

foreword: thank you to this anon, this was just the right amount of sitcom Spider-man pointing meme-ery that I needed. wrote this with husky!neighbor!Eddie since I thiiiink I’ve established that version of him is modern so hopefully this aligns with my made-up canon. lol.

wc: 1.9k

cw: weight mention (in the context of finding meds, no numbers used), embarrassment on R’s end of kink discussion, frenemies vibes between R and Eddie (they get under each other’s skin but in a hot way <3), Eddie is soft-domming in public, no actual smut but still +18 mdni

DISCLAIMER: Plan B can really fuck your shit up and shouldn’t necessarily be used when introducing new kinks. Please do your research and consult w/ a medical professional before using. Putting the fiction in fic with this one.

_____

Christ, there are too many options.

Your vision is swimming in the Family Planning aisle, fluorescent overheads of the CVS taking up residence in your left temple.

You press your fingertips against the spot, massaging gently as you pull different brands of boxes from the shelf to inspect the instructions.

This one says take within twenty-four hours, that might be- oh, shit, there’s a weight cap. Dammit. And this one’s… twice the price? For fucking why?

Frustrated, you shove the expensive thing back in place. The words on the blue label next in line catches your eye- Pre-Seed Fertility Lubricant- and you snap your hand away, as if scorched. Nope. Opposite of what you need. Christ. Pre-Seed?!

It’s almost giggle-worthy. You take out your phone, glancing up and down the aisle; the store is empty this late at night, just an older woman behind the front registers who had greeted you earlier with bored corporate formality, eyes fixed on her magazine.

Picture of Pre-Seed, taken. Check that one off the list. The only person who you’d want to share a laugh over text about this with is the one person who does not need to know why you’re in the goddamn Family Planning aisle at ten PM. On a Thursday.

At least, not yet. You lock your phone, pocketing it before zeroing in on the purple and green-themed Plan B that boasts One Tablet, One Step.

Although it’s pricier than some of the other morning-after pills, it’s the only one that you feel fully confident about buying. You give the box a little toss, feeling the next-to-nothing weight of it in your palm. Fifty bucks for a tiny pill, one that you may not even end up using- but you’ll be goddamned if you’re caught unprepared.

“Can I help you find anything?���

Your blood flashes cold, then hot, as you realize who the voice belongs to- attention focused elsewhere, you didn’t hear Eddie sidling up the aisle until now.

He’s leaning into his arm on the nearest shelf, grinning wolfishly at his own joke, chocolate eyes lit up at having found you here. He looks obscene- biceps and chest bulging at the stretched fabric of his t-shirt, hair unspooling dark curls from a low bun, black ink tattoos rippling over his bare forearms and peeking out from beneath his collar.

Honestly, you don’t know why he wasn’t stopped at the door by the woman on night shift. He’s bordering public indecency with those fitted Levi’s alone.

Fortunately the shock of hearing Eddie’s low voice is not enough to send the Plan B in your hand flying- too late to reshelve it without him seeing, you cling to it tighter, plastic creaking under your grip as you pray to every god ever that he doesn’t notice.

“Oh! Hey. Hi. Haha, very funny.” Well, that was smooth, but at least you said something comprehensible. “What’re you doing here?”

Eddie doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss, using his free arm to reach for a pack of condoms near your head- “Late night shopping. Stocking up for the weekend. Can’t seem to keep these around, seeing as I’m being fucked out of house and home.”

”Well… apartment,” you correct, heart leaping at the smile lines that jump around Eddie’s eyes. This is good, maybe you can just keep him talking and find a second to shove the Plan B into a random spot or perhaps launch it into the sun-

Nope, too late. Mid-crinkle, Eddie’s eyes drop to the package in your hand, and you watch his face drop as he processes multiple trains of thought at once.

“Oh, shit. Is that… did we…?”

There’s a pinch between his dark brows, likely running through the last few weeks of your hookups (which have all been protected) and trying to do the mental math; you shake your head, trying to stammer through the flush of embarrassment that’s overtaking your system.

“No, it’s not- not from us. Not from you. I mean…” you trail off, shifting uncomfortably from one sneaker to the other as words hit a jam in your throat.

Eddie’s in a full frown now, pushing off the shelf, standing to his full height, confusion and hurt seeping into his expression, voice quiet and pitched deep- “Is it from someone else?”

“Oh my god.” This was a nightmare, right? You’d like to wake up now. “No, no, not from anyone else. It’s-”

A sharp exhale, a shake of your head, and the words loosen all at once- “I was gonna get it for us, for me, for this weekend, if you wanted to give me a reason to use it.”

Eddie goes as still as you’ve ever seen him before, fingers stopped in their usual constant tapping, blinking at the box in your hands.

His face smooths.

Then he smiles.

Your stomach flips.

Eddie slides the condoms back into the wrong spot, not bothering to look as he leans in close enough for you to smell the spice of his cologne as he says in a sex-dipped timbre: “Well if you wanted me to fill you up with my cum, why didn’t you just say so?”

A horrified, awkward squawk escapes before you can bite it back; your head whips down the aisle to make sure no one else was within earshot of his dirty mouth as you blindly shove the Plan B away, deep into a shelf. “Oh my god. Jesus christ.”

”Eddie is just fine,” he responds mildly, the cool demeanor to your rapidly heating one as his grin simmers wicked between dimpled cheeks.

“Forget it,” you start, shaking your head and making to brush past, embarrassment flooding in hot, “Just forget-”

Eddie catches you by the elbow, effectively locking you in place with a single move, but he’s not looking at you; with his free hand, he snaps up the slightly crumpled box and scans the words.

“Y’think one will be enough?”

The flood subsides, gives you pause enough to stutter out, “W-what?”

Eddie’s fingers flex on your arm. He turns the box over in his big hand, rings glinting. “We’d better get two. Just in case.”

Your skin feels the impression of his palm even after he lets go, like a Polaroid in rapid reverse as he grabs a second box, warmth fading fast from your skin. “I don’t think- I mean, that’s not how they work, I should probably find a more permanent sol-”

“Just for the weekend.” His eyes are back on you now, self-satisfied smirk giving way to something darker, more intense. “Yeah?”

A shiver casts goosebumps down the length of your body. He’s goddamn toying with you, in the middle of a fucking CVS. Despite your flare of irritation, you nod, voice nearly a croak as you echo, “Yeah.”

The grin lights up his face again. “Good girl.”

Eddie doesn’t give you time to react to this (verbally, anyways- your cunt is most certainly responding to the praise despite your best efforts to remain unaffected), using one large hand to hold both boxes and another to press at the small of your back, leading you down the aisle.

Truthfully, you’re grateful for the help (regardless of his dominance-based tendencies that don’t usually get you this easy); based on the ringing in your ears, you’re doubtful of your own ability to navigate the maze of aisles.

Eddie walks you both to the front register, and you watch as if outside of your own body while the cashier scans the barcodes and Eddie swipes his card.

He pockets the receipt, slides a finger through the handles of the plastic bag, and holds it out between your bodies. Right in front of the goddamn cashier.

”For you.”

This brings you back to yourself, a bit, mortification giving way to annoyance (a much more useful emotion in this scenario), and you snatch it to your chest. It’s your turn to grab Eddie’s elbow, half-dragging him towards the exit.

“Come again soon,” the cashier calls, still in monotone.

So close. You’re less than a yard away from the sliding glass doors that would have swallowed Eddie’s reply- but as it stands, he gets in one last cheerful wave, an award-winning, dimple-charmed smile to match his bright response.

“She will!”

Damn him. You give a final tug and you’re both out in the parking lot, glass doors closing automatically with a whoosh behind you, cool night air kissing at your cheeks.

”Seriously?” You’re mature enough to recognize that your anger is misplaced, adrenaline-fueled, but that doesn’t stop you from whirling on Eddie, giving his shoulder a sharp shove that (unfortunately, tantalizingly) doesn’t move him an inch. “I can never return to this fucking store. Thanks for that.”

Eddie really doesn’t help his case, grin turned shit-eating as he rustles through his various pockets for his pack of cigarettes- “Careful, sweetheart- you know how hot and bothered I get when you’re mad.”

”Unbelievable.” You turn on a swift heel, slipping the bag loops up your arm to dig for your keys. “You just got me blacklisted from our local drugstore and you don’t even care.”

There’s the snick of a lighter behind you, while your car a few spaces down chirrups and blinks in response to the furious press of your fob’s unlock button.

Eddie chuckles, sardonic and unsympathetic. “Too bad this is the only CVS in the whole world. I think you’ll live, princess.”

Ignoring this, you stomp towards your car, petulant, bag rustling; the door is half-open when Eddie calls, “So, are you coming over tonight, or what?”

“Obviously!”

The door slams with more force than you intend, sound ricocheting across the lot.

From the respite of your tinted windows, you watch as a streetlamp-haloed Eddie takes a drag from a cigarette, smoke drifting thick around a hazy visage of the hottest man alive. (Maybe you’re a touch biased. But your opinion is based on personal accounts, so fuck the naysayers.)

He tips his head back to look at the stars, pale column of throat illuminated- with a flush of realization, you scoff. He’s putting on a show for you.

Two can play, you think, driving your seatbelt into place with a click. But first I’m gonna have to make a stop at home. Namely for new undies.

[gffa]

I would like to say I've slowed down a bit on BATFAMILY fic over the last month, but that's kind of a lie because fandom has put out some absolute banger longer fics and I've been reading a lot of comics (can you believe how many comics I've been enjoying?? I have never felt so spoiled for choice!), so I still feel like I'm inhaling everything as fast as I can go and it's GREAT. It's a constant stream of crying about fictional characters in canon, crying about fictional characters in sad fic scenarios, crying about fictional characters in happy fic scenarios, and crying about fictional characters because other people care about our babies, too. Also, I have decided I no longer have a Dick Grayson Problem that you must all suffer through to get some variety in the recs, but instead I have a Dick Grayson Solution. You're all welcome. But I'll mix it up a bit just for you guys, so hopefully you find something fun to read no matter your fave and have a good time, because this fandom has been knocking it out of the park with the fic that has given me a good time, READ AND CRY WITH ME, OKAY. BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST FERAL ROBIN I'M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ Grounded by WingFeathers, dick & bruce & clark & wally & ma kent & pa kent & background clark/bruce & cast, 60.4k     In the early days of the Justice League, Bruce is out more and more frequently on League missions, and Dick (age 13) is growing more and more restless and lonely stuck at home. His friends can't know he's Robin, and there are no superheroes Dick's age--or so he thinks, until Bruce receives a call from Barry, desperately seeking mentorship advice. Dick asks to meet the Flash's new sidekick, but Bruce refuses; a fight ensues, ending in Dick getting grounded. One week in Gotham off patrol, and then two weeks alone, far from Gotham... at a little family farm in Smallville, Kansas. And hey, if a certain Midwestern speedster sidekick just so happens to turn up, that'd be just fine. Or would it?

✦ trust in serum by deargalileo, dick & bruce & alfred & clark, 15.7k     "I believe the serum is a mixture of chemicals that compels the target to be completely honest, even against their own will." "You got hit with a truth serum?" Bruce winced as Dick's voice reached a high pitch. "Really?!" "Yes, really."

✦ Storge by CKBookish, dick & bruce & alfred, 5.4k     “Your dad must have his hands full with you.” Elizabeth Ribbons leaned forward and patted Dick’s shoulder, as he reached for yet another slice of cheesecake from a passing waiter’s tray. Bruce fixed his eyes on the ice sculpture that hid him from view. It suddenly seemed like the most interesting design in the world. The soft lines of the ice on the otherwise insignificant over sized swan seemed like a lead shield... Because Dick would read it easily in his expression. He wanted to be Dick’s dad. But he wasn’t.

✦ Robin Wings by JeanjacketCarf, dick & clark & bruce & cast, 3.4k     Clark wakes in a panic, unsure what has jarred him from his sleep. Until he notices Robin's absence from Batman's side.

✦ Hey! He Attempted a Coup! by PandasandDucks13, dick & bruce & clark & justice league & cast, 6.8k wip     What if Dick Grayson was a Kryptonian?

✦ grief mosaic by newsical, dick & bruce & alfred & leslie, 1.3k     Grief paints Dick’s days in muted shades of red and yellow and green. He grows to expect sleepless nights and sweat-drenched sheets. In turn, he finds late night companions in Alfred, with his old movies and stories, and Bruce, who wears the colors of his own grief to prevent its spread to others. Dr. Thompkins writes a letter to Bruce diagnosing Dick with PTSD.

✦ before this ends by emavee, dick & bruce, 2.5k     Mr. Wayne would definitely be angry if he knew what Dick was planning, but it’s not as if Dick is going to be here long anyway. Might as well take the opportunity to fly one last time, while he still has the chance.

✦ A Light at the End of the Tunnel by dizarys, dick & bruce & alfred, 1.6k     Maybe the parenting and grieving books he skimmed the highlights from last week–and Alfred–were right. Why else would Dick have approached their newest case with such ferocity and determination? At first, Bruce chalked it up to empathy. Seeing another child crying after his parents were murdered was something Batman and Robin could relate to.

✦ Last Night of Sadness by gothamshero (emhyr), dick & bruce & slade & william cobb, 6.1k     Dick Grayson has to take liberties when he’s a civilian, but he still knows when he’s being followed.

✦ Starlings in Winter by FromStarstuff, dick & bruce & clark & cast, 18k wip     When Dick was eleven years old he ran away from Gotham. No one could quite figure out why. Take your pick; there was a fight at school, a circus in town, and a song he can’t remember the melody of. Eleven-year-old Dick Grayson was flooded with grief, swimming in it, perpetually drowning. One day it was too much.

✦ What Defines A Father by Browniesarethebest, dick & bruce & justice league & cast, 7.7k wip     Batman hasn't known the newly formed Justice League long enough to trust them, but he's willing to put everything on the line when the one thing he cares for most is taken somewhere he can't easily follow.

✦ Stolen Son by springfox (dallystrings), dick & bruce & cast, 8.6k     Bruce’s heartbeat sped up, but he leveled his breathing to remain clear headed. After another thirty seconds he abandoned the cart and walked briskly through the store, searching every row in a growing panic. “Dick?” he called, “Dick, can you hear me? Where are you, chum?”

BATFAM FIC RECS - ADULT BATSON AND BATDAD ARE MY KRYPTONITE, I FOLD LIKE WET CARDBOARD FOR THEM: ✦ Learning Experience by strikeyourcolors, dick & bruce, 2.3k     "Does it ever get easier?" Dick asks. Bruce isn't technically old enough to be his father biologically, but those deep blue eyes are looking at him as a child beseeching a parent. "Some nights I feel like I can't do this anymore, Bruce. I can't be Nightwing."

✦ Rainbow Puppies by zombiesbecrazy, dick & bruce, 2.4k     Bruce really wanted to hate Pamela Isley right now, but all that he could focus on was how much he admired the way she passionately fought for her beliefs and how he could applaud her application of her educational background into practical endeavors to her cause, however misguided. Being hit with one of Ivy's toxins has Bruce babbling like a fool.

✦ the business of the very few by dustorange, dick & bruce, 4.2k     “I was trying,” Bruce says, “to respect your privacy.”

✦ notches in the door frame by dizarys, dick & bruce, 2.1k     Bruce hadn't been prepared for his days or nights to feel so empty. And he wasn't sure how to interact with the young man before him now. Because Robin didn't need Batman anymore. --- A patrol gone wrong forces Bruce and Dick to finally talk about Robin becoming Nightwing and feelings they'd been avoiding.

✦ No Comfort in the Shade by mx_chrx99, dick & bruce, 3.4k     Dick Grayson is having a hard time and Bruce is there to help.

✦ The Long Distance by takadainmate, dick & bruce, 1.2k     Down here they're not Batman and Nightwing. They’re Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson. But they still fight.

BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ tender will fall by dizarys, dick & bruce & donna & jason & cast, 3.5k     When the Titans are devastated in an attack, they go to Batman in a last ditch effort to rescue one of their own.

✦ the hardest part by emavee, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & cass, no powers au, 5.8k     Dick is dreading his eighteenth birthday and everything that it means for him as a foster kid. His time with his family is running out, and he needs to be prepared for what comes next, to be on his own again.

✦ 5 Times Dick Grayson Was Grateful for His Insomnia + 1 Time He Wasn't by avengemyheart, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & alfred & wally, 5.7k     Dick can't sleep, but that's a good thing. He finds himself helping the people he cares about late at night throughout the years. Eventually though, everyone realizes just how intense his insomnia can get. Or: A 5 +1 thing about Dick's insomnia.

✦ A Darker Shade of Gotham by JackHawksmoor, dick & bruce & tim & alfred, 8.3k wip     Dick and Tim are stuck in a crappy alternate universe where most of the heroes they know are dead, Bruce Wayne's bad health meant he never became Batman, and Tony Zucco runs Gotham City's underworld. When Dick is shot by the mob, they take a risk and go to Bruce for help. Alternate Bruce didn't have children, but as he gets to know Dick and Tim, he starts wishing he did.

✦ leave as though fire burns under your feet by perissologist, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & cast, read the tags, 33k     That glow is gone, now. Gone from Dick’s skin, gone from inside him. It used to shine out of him, out of all the cracks the world put in him. But now Bruce looks down at him, and he is as dark and cold as a snuffed star. That’s what gets to him the most—not how cold the morgue is under its colorless fluorescent lighting, or the cloying smell of formaldehyde that clogs his throat. It’s how still Dick is, on the cold, sterile surface of the examiner’s table. It’s unnatural. The boy never learned how to sit still.

✦ papers say it's doomsday by dottie_dc (dottie_wan_kenobi), dick & bruce & donna & cast, 2.5k     Half-laughing at his own joke, Nightwing starts to say, “He just doesn’t—” In the space of one word, one breath, and the next—the world ends.

✦ Ibn al Xu'ffasch by hellsreluctantheir, dick & bruce & damian & jason & cast, 16.2k     Batman when they’d thought Bruce was dead was one kettle of fish. Batman when the original Batman was around was another. In his head, Robin—perched on a gargoyle next to him—tutted like an eighty-year-old, and rolled his eyes like the kid he was.

BATFAM FIC RECS - BATKIDS ALL HAVE MANY SIBLINGS AND THEY'RE ALL PETTY ASSHOLES AND/OR WONDERFUL BABIES AND I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE BEING: ✦ our aspirations are wrapped up in books by theragingstorm, damian & barbara & cast, 1.8k     Damian's been confined to bed rest. Someone unexpected helps him.

✦ remind me why I'm here again? by dizarys, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & bernard(/tim), 3.5k     Jason's at a Wayne gala. He doesn't want to be. Good thing his siblings are there too. "Were we mean?" Dick mused, "Or just being big brothers?" "He's holding your hoodie hostage." "You're right. We went too easy on him."

✦ put away childish things by bittlebarnes (monroesherlock), dick & damian & clark & jon & barbara & ma kent, 7.2k     "I was sent here as a punishment, surely," Damian deadpans. "Are you feeling punished?" Martha sounds like she’s laughing at him. Unacceptable. "Absolutely."

✦ a hero by hellsreluctantheir, bruce & dick & jason, 15.5k     Dick Grayson died in Amusement Mile. Four years later, Jason Todd is Robin. But he's not dressed in the costume when he hears about a new player in Crime Alley; a man in a red helmet.

✦ Improvise A Symphony by cabezas_de_vaca, bruce & dick & alfred & cast, 5.5k     Or: three generations of Wayne and Wayne-adjucacent men do their absolute best.

✦ The Second Stage by nightwalker, tim & jason & bruce & dick & damian, 8.2k     All Tim wants is to take a shower, get something to eat, and try to wear off the effects of Ivy's stupid pollen in peace. So of course tonight is the night Jason decides to start acting like a brother.

BATFAM FIC RECS - I CUT MY TEETH ON DICK & TIM AS CLOSE BROTHERS AND NO ONE WILL NOT TAKE IT FROM ME: ✦ Red Letter Day by silverwhittlingknife, dick & tim & damian & cast, 41.8k wip     Dick Grayson, stressed pseudo-parent to a preteen assassin, tries to solve the case of Damian’s Mysterious Wednesday. He never expected it to help him fix his relationship with Tim, too. (... Though only after everything fell apart first.)

✦ I know it's just a number but you're the eighth wonder by orphan_account, dick & tim, 1.2k     Dick gets sick. Set before their lives implode on them, so Dick’s Nightwing and Tim’s still an itty bitty Robin.

✦ it's been a long time now (i'm with you) by centreoftheselights, dick & tim, 1.8k     Tim has been noticing some strange things about his life. He isn't the only one.

✦ Little Do You Know by sardonic_sprite, dick & tim & ra's, 2.2k     "So," Tim said quietly. "You're here to break me out I guess." "Yes," came out in a choked sob. "Then you're wasting your time."

✦ pain/release by unchosenone, dick & tim, 4k     Dick goes to check on a wayward brother in the middle of yet another Gotham Toxin (TM), and Tim has a bad time.

✦ I'd Fly Far Away From Here by Sohotthateveryonedied, dick & tim & jack, 3.5k     Tim stacks his fries onto his burger patty in a crosshatch, covering every spare inch in a layer of salty potato and grease. “It all happened kind of fast. Dad and I got into this huge fight, and it’s not very dignified to go back upstairs for my wallet and then storm out.” Dick is quiet while he eats his sandwich, trying to figure this out. “Dick?” “I’m just—trying to think if I should call Bruce first or your dad.”

✦ A Collective End to a Harmony by 061828, dick & tim, 1.2k     A drop of water falls into an ocean, a house’s wooden skeleton has its last nail screwed into place, an old book’s first page finally crumbles off, and Tim Drake turns twenty years old.

✦ young numb and broken by wingedgrace, dick & tim & cast, read the tags, 1.1k     His bare feet were covered in cold, damp sand, and he could barely feel them. Well, he could feel them, but they didn’t seem to be connected to his body. Or maybe it was him that wasn’t connected to his body. (or: poor Dick Grayson needs some love and a chance to catch his breath.)

✦ there's an endless road to rediscover by Zahri, dick & tim & cast, 1.2k     Sometimes the only way to show that you've moved on and forgiven each other is to take a flying tackle from the ceiling. Dick and Tim know each other's demonstrations of affection. Damian doesn't.

✦ spread your wings by wingedgrace, dick & tim & cast, 2.1k     “Why did you give Robin to Damian?” Dick pinched his nose. He’d started to pick up some of Batman’s habits, whether he realized it or not. “Tim, we’re not talking about this again. We’re talking about how you’re off on this… quest, to prove that Bruce is still alive. And I just want to talk. Come home.” Tim didn’t budge. “Why did you give Robin to Damian?”

BATFAM FIC RECS - DICK/BABS FOREVER AND YOU CAN SHUT IT IF YOU DISAGREE, THEY'RE ADORABLE TOGETHER: ✦ Taking Turns by mx_chrx99, dick/babs, 2.3k     Tim had practically begged Dick to get a flu shot. He probably should've listened.

✦ The Summer of Her Discontent by dotfic, dick/babs, 7.8k     Batgirl contends with her feelings after Dick leaves Gotham.

✦ Thirteen Hours by dotfic, dick/babs, 7.9k     Set during "Knight Time," during their trip to Romania, Dick and Babs start healing some old wounds.

✦ The Night the Lights Went out in Gotham by dotfic, dick/babs & bruce & tim & jim & cast, 13.8k     "When it comes to emotions, even great heroes can be idiotic."-from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon

✦ Regular People by zombiesbecrazy, dick/babs, 1.6k     All sorts of people can enjoy a good sunrise over the city after a long night. Why should heroes of Gotham be any different?

✦ strawberry milkshakes by brandywine421, dick/babs & bruce, 2.8k     Why is Bruce bringing Dick? It's not an emergency alert, or medical - just an alert. She should have put in her comm - if it was a simple pit stop they had safehouses, but - Batman dangles Dick's keys in her direction at the door but she's glad he didn't come through the window. She looks past him to catch Dick's attention and - something's wrong.

BATFAM FIC RECS - I WILL DIE ON THE HILL THAT TIM DRAKE'S TRUE LOVE INTEREST IS CONNER KENT AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME, NOT EVEN GOD: ✦ Stay for breakfast and also forever by Ididloveyou_once, tim/kon & bruce, 2k     Conner turns up in the middle of the night after a mission gone wrong. Tim learns that seeing Conner cry makes him feel like his heart has been torn out of his chest.

✦ Think Cupid, But Aim Lower by NevernightUnderRainbows, tim/kon & bruce & cassie & bart, 2.3k     Or, the Batfamily will make sure Tim gets his guy, even if it entails a lot of beating around the bush, dropping hints so veiled that they can be misconstrued surprisingly easily, and basically giving the bird and his clone boy a headache in the process

✦ The Once and Future Bat by LilliputianDuckling, tim/kon & some kon/cassie & dick & roy & martha & anita & cast, 16k     Tim realizes it was a mistake to clone Conner when he ends up with a baby on his hands at sixteen years old. Well, Jackie's his now. Where does he go from here?

✦ there you were by mindshelter, tim/kon & cassie & bart & martha, 19.5k wip     “You know, the cool thing about me,” Tim says, voice gone quiet and petal-soft, “is that even when I didn’t care whether I lived or not, I was pretty goddamn hard to kill.” Kon sighs, eyes glued to his feet. His hand is still encircled around Tim’s arm, trailing up to the bend of his elbow.

✦ time flies by by Laroyena, tim/kon & clark & jon & lex, 6.5k     Jon Kent is Superboy. Tim's gut instinct tells him that's wrong. (Timkon fix-it where reboot!Tim misses Kon like a phantom limb. And then he gets him back.)

✦ Tangled by thewhitestag, tim/kon, NSFW, 4.1k     Kon doesn’t want to be that person, always waiting, wondering if the next time will be more than just two friends messing around.

✦ you put your arms around me and i'm home by merils, tim/kon, 4.5k     Kon's acting a little odd after a close call. Tim ponders the potential causes.

BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, THAT'S WHAT I'M HERE FOR: ✦ Bereft by glassofwater, dick & bruce & cast, 4.7k     Laying on his back, shoulder brushing up against debris, Dick closes his eyes briefly. He doesn’t want to die, has no intention to do so tonight, but he is scared. The blood on his side pumps out of him with each thump of his heart, beating at a rate too fast for Dick to properly count. That shouldn’t be right, he shouldn’t even be awake and struggling at the moment, but the luck that hangs over Gotham is a mysterious one; it doesn’t favor anyone and yet…

✦ fun and games by prismatical, bruce & dick & jason & tim & barbara & stephanie & duke & cast, 78.6k     The Joker's loose, and the Batman isn't in Gotham. The family struggles to hold itself together as everything else spins out of control.

✦ Bone Weary by TheSilencer, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & duke, 8.1k     "You cannot reach out until you reach in." Dick assumed the words were metaphorical. They weren't. Or Dick Grayson is cursed, and the cure is not any better.

✦ What These Hands Have Done by WinterSky101, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & alfred & cast, 14k     Dick is mind controlled into attacking his family. Unsurprisingly, he takes the whole thing very badly.

✦ All The Small Things by Geeves, dick & bruce & damian & cast, 20.1k     After Bruce's return to the Bat, Dick and Damian have to deal with just being brothers, but things are just a bit too messy to be that easy

✦ All Our Broken Parts by mx_chrx99, bruce & dick & jason & dick/babs & cast, 28.1k wip     Jason will not let this happen again. He can't. But what if he's already too late?

[frownyalfred]

Going to start physically CONVULSING if/when Barry Allen and Billy Batson show up in this new Regime fic. Cause I totally get your focus is Bruce and Batfam and Kal but there’s something SO interesting about Barry and Billy canonically being a part of these regime situations when both of them are characters that would only be bound to it because of their immense loyalty to others (and Billy is a CHILD I could blab in that for hours but I won’t). But like, now that Bruce is part of this horrific equation, how would they even react?? I could barely handle seeing Hal in the latest chapter (I mean this is in the most gruesomely good way possible- you wrote him and his twisted awfulness and the intricate horror of the regime verse in such a delicious spine chilling spasming way), but seeing Flash and Marvel might make me LOSE it. (Now that I’ve typed all this out in realizing they might not even be in your writing plans, if so, just ignore my rambling!!)

My goal is to get as many former JL members in the story as I can without completely jumping the shark. The contrast is just so delicious. It’s why Injustice is really compelling at times — you see everyone before and after the Regime. You see who sticks to their morals and who folds.

[flightfoot]

ML Fanfic Recs for 2023: 20K - 40K words

So I’ve been going through and adding particularly good fics I’ve read throughout the year. Only Complete fics, of course. Enjoy!

Alliance!Adrien’s AI is self-writing, enabling him to grow and change and adapt. As he learns and starts analyzing some of his own systems, he finds some disquieting correlations. Why are there such strong connections between akuma attacks and the Alliance network?

Fu keeps on trying to give Marinette Miraculouses. Marinette refuses to cooperate.

Chat is happy with the person Fu chose to succeed him as Guardian, but confused. Why did he choose Multimouse?

One of Hawk Moth’s akuma attacks ends tragically, with many dead, Adrien in critical condition, and Chat Noir MIA. Alya’s prepared to go to extremes to save the people she cares about, if it comes to it.

In Kuro Neko, Adrien decides to seal off his more rebellious, wilder side, in order to make himself into the perfect partner for Ladybug. This has unintended consequences.

Chat Noir suddenly turns on Ladybug, joining up with Monarch as Cat Walker. Marinette’s devastated. At least she still has Adrien by her side.

Nino offers to fake-date Adrien in order to get the paparazzi off his back. He starts to wish it wasn’t fake.

All this and more below the break!

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The Ghost in the Machine by @jheqiawrites

As part of this function, Adrien knew about Monarch, the akuma butterflies, the victims, and, of course Ladybug and Cat Noir, the heroes of Paris. He was authorized to contact the Ladyblog as well as the citywide alert system if one of his platforms was active during an akuma manifestation, allowing his friends to get somewhere safe until Ladybug and Cat Noir could deal with the situation

While the necessity of these functions was disconcerting, it was programmed to be his routine so he gradually grew used to the inconsistencies. After all, humans tended to be selfish, highly inconsistent, and often flighty, but once you had observed them for a while an intelligence such as his could begin to see the patterns.

That is until she came online.

This is just a beautiful, though bittersweet story. I adore how Alliance!Adrien grows and changes throughout the story, how he develops as a person. He starts off not being able to figure out what he’s feeling, needing to make new modules in order to try to process the emotions he has welling up, and not totally understanding his own reactions. But as time goes on he grows and gets a better handle on himself. This isn’t an “evil AI” story, he’s just a person who’s slowly figuring out who he is and how to handle himself. 

Not that it’s entirely about Adrien Alliance figuring out his own emotions, there’s other things going on as well. He’s worried about why there seems to be weird surges in the Alliance Network right before akumas attack, for instance, and why the details about the reason for that seem to be hidden from him, making him more paranoid about the Alliance system the more he looks into it...

 It’s just... it’s really good and absolutely worth a read. 

---

Thanks, But No by @pauliestorylover

For every miraculous that Fu cupped in his palms, an image of the same blue-eyed girl flashed through his mind. Marinette Dupain-Cheng was born to hold the miraculous—she resonated with every single one of them far better than even the late Celestial Guardian, and it was Fu’s duty as the last Guardian not to allow such talent to slip through his hands.

Too bad Marinette wasn’t on the same page.

Or; au where Master Fu keeps throwing miraculous at Marinette hoping one will stick, Marinette goes around handing out miraculous like candy, and Wayzz has never seen anything so ridiculous in his millennia-long lifespan.

This one’s fun. Everyone except for Adrien ends up with a different Miraculous than in canon, and it’s really interesting to see how they all adapt. Marinette’s thorough noping out is pretty funny too, and there’s some sweet bits of Adrino and Alyanette in here!

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The Power of Love by @nedjsmlfavs

In which Ladybug announces that she’s pregnant via her long term boyfriend and Chat Noir is a supportive partner. After all, he can hardly be upset when he’s been dating his Princess for years!

A different take on the show’s tagline (“The Power of Love Always so Strong”) written for Valentine’s day 2023.

This is just a sweet, fluffy fic about Ladybug and Chat Noir finding out they’re having a baby, revealing to each other, getting married, and becoming parents. Gabriel actually tries to do better here, as he does actually care about getting to know his grandchild, and realizes that he can’t undo this timeline without undoing his granddaughter’s existence as well. 

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Radio Silence by @into-september

When an inexplicable change between Marinette and Adrien brings the two closer than ever, Alya is left on the outside of a secret too confounding to be about cheesemaking or puppy love.

[No S4 AU]

This is a wonderful Alya-centric fic, with her just being baffled by Marinette’s and Adrien’s newfound closeness. But it’s not all about her being puzzled by the Lovesquare. Things really get rolling when Lila makes her entrance and Marinette and Adrien are particularly hostile to her, with Alya being confused about it and thinking there must be a misunderstanding here, somewhere, even with Lila saying something she KNOWS can’t be true - partially because she doesn’t want to believe she’s been fooled all this time.

But this isn’t a saltfic. Alya’s treated like a full person, and her perspective and thoughts are given credence. She and Marinette talk things out in depth, with both of them feeling badly for accidentally hurting the other person, and reassuring each other (Marinette also told a lie, though unbeknownst to Alya, it was connected to her being a superhero. Alya, however, didn’t know that, and just knew that Marinette lied to her for no clear reason), and they make up. It’s really nice and treats the characters with love and respect.

It’s got a lot of similarities to The Investigation by @11jj11, so if you liked that fic, you’ll probably like this one too.

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I’ll give myself a name (something stupid and pretentious) by @bbutterflies

Nino looked at the number and didn’t recognize it. Usually he wouldn’t answer, but he had nothing better to do – and could still really use a distraction – so he did. “Hello?”

“Hey, Nino.”

Nino stood up quickly, chest tightening. He knew that voice. He’d been waiting to hear it again for over two years. “Adrien?” he whispered.

“Yeah. It’s me."

-

When Monarch is defeated (and revealed to be Gabriel Agreste), Chat Noir immediately goes missing. Adrien disappears not long after. When Adrien finally shows up in Paris again, Nino would do anything to make sure he doesn't disappear again.

Ah this is lovely, Adrien’s been in a lot of emotional turmoil since Monarch’s defeat, convinced that everyone would hate him, SHOULD hate him, for not realizing that his father was the villain, and should hate him even more for disappearing like he does. But slowly Marinette and Nino get through to him, convince him that they just want him back. 

And also Adrien and Nino smooch. Multiple times. So that’s a bonus XD.

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The New Guardian Is... Multimouse?  by The_Rabbit42

During the events of Miracle Queen, Master Fu passes on the role of guardian to a surprising successor... Multimouse! Marinette is frustrated, Alya is confused, and Chat Noir is oddly pleased. How will this affect Marinette's friendships and partnership on both sides of her identity? How will this affect Adrien's view of the girls in his life? And how long will they keep it together?

I adore this fic! It diverges from the season 3 ending, with Multimouse - who Chat knows is Marinette, becoming Guardian instead of Ladybug. Which leads to some ripple effects, like Marinette not confessing her identity to Alya, since she’s able to get some support from Chat when he drops by her house. Not that that stops tension from building between Ladybug and Chat Noir, since she won’t just let Chat go and get a Miraculous from Marinette during a battle, and she won’t tell him why, leading him to think that she just dislikes Marinette or doesn’t trust him to get Miraculous like she does. But even while all this tension is building between Ladybug and Chat Noir, Chat’s still able to talk to Marinette, air his feelings in ways he doesn’t feel like he should do with Ladybug, and it’s all a great, complicated situation that I thoroughly enjoyed seeing unfold!

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Two Steps Back (One Step Forward) by @buggachat

Sure, Adrien hadn't been texting her as often as he used to. And sure, Nino noticed it too. But just because Adrien had struggled with depression in the past, didn't mean he was struggling now. Surely, he'd tell her if something was wrong. Right?

Marinette just missed him, and she had a tendency to catastrophize. Surely, he was fine.

But if he wasn't... well, she wasn't above hopping on a flight back to Paris to make sure.

—————

Marinette's at an internship in New York, and Adrien has a depression relapse.

Once again buggachat comes out swinging with a fic centered around Adrien being super depressed and his friends charging in to help him, despite him not wanting them to because he feels like a burden. It’s not easy and Marinette goes through a lot of emotional turmoil, especially since his apartment is in bad enough shape that it can’t be changed to something that a human should be living in without also going shopping, but gradually she helps drag Adrien out of the hole he’s gotten himself stuck in. The emotions are on point and just... if you want to read a hurt/comfort fic with Found Family helping one of their own who’s struggling and doesn’t think they deserve it, this is a great fic to read.

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If only I could break free by megetstoread

It started with Adrien being upset about going away, but led to a lot of revelations.  

Another Sentiadrien fic here! After telling Adrien that he’s being sent to London, Gabriel takes advantage of Adrien being distraught to akumatize him. Luckily Ladybug’s right there and deakumatizes him before he can even do anything, but it shakes both her and Chat, leading to her allowing him to tell her a lot more about his home life than usual, and for her and Adrien to investigate to see whether there might be more to Adrien’s inability to stand against his father than just psychological abuse.

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Skinny Dipping in the Seine by whensparksfly

When Marinette and Chat Noir cross paths one stormy night, an unexpected friendship blossoms, and between the two of them they’re both able to admit what they’ve been looking for the most — freedom. Vowing to tackle all of the things they’ve never tried before, they set out on a series of adventures to complete their bucket lists.

Cute little Marichat fic here! Just Marinette and Chat Noir hanging out and doing things they’ve always wanted to do, like going to a rave or, well, skinny-dipping in the Seine.

---

Nor No Man Ever Loved by @jheqiawrites

It starts with a gift to cheer up a friend, a friend Marinette's heart is trying to move on from. But when she is blatantly confronted with her feelings by the most unexpected person, Marinette's life takes a turn for the better.

Welcome to my Adrienette April story. It is based around Shakespeare's Sonnet 116: Let Me Not to the Marriage of True Minds. Each chapter will be framed around part of the sonnet and should be able to stand alone, though the story itself will all be tied together.

This is a nice little story, mostly focusing on Marinette’s perspective while being there for Adrien, WITH Adrien, while dealing with his father and the aftermath of his father’s takedown. We do get some perspective from Adrien though for things like his therapist appointments. I really like that it covered some of the therapy Adrien should have after this event, he needs it.

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Villainous Matchmaking by @nedjsmlfavs

When Chat Noir is tragically unable to attend an event with Ladybug, the mayor calls in a favor from a designer ‘friend’. Now she’s attending in style, on the arm of the hottest male model in Paris. Which would be fine if it weren’t for one, tiny issue: Paris’ favorite domestic terrorist now knows how Ladybug feels about his son. This leads him to his greatest plan yet, using Ladybug’s extremely obvious crush on Adrien Agreste to akumatize Chat Noir.

A Ladrien/“platonic” Ladynoir fic

This is adorable and hilarious. Gabriel keeps on “accidentally” releasing things which makes it looks like Adrien and Ladybug are a couple in an effort to make Chat Noir jealous, while Adrien and Ladybug ae just over-the-moon about getting to spend time together and finding out that the other person loves them XD.

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Vantage Point by @ashes-555

Most of the time, with more information, life get easier and things make more sense. But Alya discovers that sometimes, knowing everything is just plain complicated.

Alya POV fic here, which instantly drew my attention, I think most people know how much I love fics giving her some focus. 

This is set post-Gang of Secrets. Basically, Ladybug tells Chat that he can tell someone his secret identity, and he chooses Alya (he thought about telling Nino, but he didn’t want to rock the boat with Nino since he’s his best friend, and he figured Nino would let it slip to Alya anyway). Which leads to Alya just. Dying. As she deals with knowing the full truth about the Lovesquare and not being able to tell Adrien and Marinette that they’re chasing each other around in circles.

The fic soon changes gears, though, becoming a Hawkmoth Defeat fic, with Rena coming up with a plan to discover Scarlet Moth’s location, and then everyone dealing with the ramifications. 

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Justifying the Means by @ashes-555

When the worst happens, Alya finds that she may be willing to do the unthinkable. Is any sacrifice to big to make for her friends?

Once again, Ashes comes out swinging with an Alya focused fic! 

Basically, there’s a major, destructive akuma attack. During it, Ladybug orders Chat to cataclysm a building in order to stop from being trapped. Unfortunately the building collapses, injuring or killing a lot of people - unbeknownst to her, including Chat Noir. Gabriel releases the akuma, which means she has no way of fixing the damage, either.

A lot of of focus is placed on Alya and Nino worrying over Adrien, who was found in the wreckage barely clinging to life, in a coma, with the doctors unsure whether he’d make it. Shadow Moth takes advantage of their distress to make an offer: if he gets the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculouses, he can make a Wish to fix everything, including saving Adrien. With as dark a place as Alya and Nino are in, they seriously consider it. Especially with how unhappy both of them are with Chat Noir supposedly “abandoning” Ladybug and Paris as a whole, and Nino being angry with Ladybug for failing (since Alya knows that Marinette is Ladybug, she’s far more understanding on that front).

I love how much credence Alya’s thought and emotions are given here, and that she doesn’t go for the more drastic option right away, either - she talks with Ladybug about it first, tries to do it her way. She understands the costs, but... her friends are important to her, and she’s desperate. I think this was a really good way to present a more antagonistic sort of Alya. She’s still very much herself here, and still considers Marinette her friend, willing to do things her way to an extent, and understanding why Marinette doesn’t want to use the Wish, even though she disagrees with her. Alya’s mindset, her emotions, her problems, are given respect and credence by the narrative. She’s still willing to talk things out, she’s still sympathetic to Marinette and the enormous trauma and guilt she’s going through, she just disagrees with Marinette’s approach. She wants her friend back.

If you want a fic that has some solid focus on Alya as a person, on her emotional struggles and mindset and just... dealing with things, I highly recommend checking out “Justifying the Means”.

---

Would Trust You With Everything by @kasienda

Nino breaks off, tears streaking down his face. Adrien wishes he was here as himself instead of Chat so he could offer a hug.

“It’s not like I don’t think she deserved her privacy. It’s just it felt like I was her last priority. And if I knew why, then maybe we could overcome it. But when I don’t, I’m not willing to be her last thought. You know? I always put her first.”

“Yeah,” Chat agrees, able to relate too well. He always put Ladybug first too, and he’s not sure it has ever been the same for her. “I’m sorry you’ve been so alone through this."

“I haven’t been totally alone,” Nino disagrees, holding up his phone. “My best friend has been keeping me company virtually most of the day.”

“Yeah? It helped?”

“I don’t know if any of the stuff he sent helped, but like, given what I know he’s up to, he totally had to move heaven and earth to talk to me so much, and that really helped. You know, just knowing that someone was thinking of me.”

“I’m glad,” Chat Noir said. “I wish he could be there in person for you.”

Nino sighs. “Yeah, me too, but at least you’re here."

...

Season 4 au - canon divergent from Rocketear Rocketear led to DJWiFi breakup.

Ahh, Adrino my beloved XD. I love the identity shenanigans in this one with Adrien being around Nino as both Adrien and Chat Noir, and both of them vaguely describing their situations to each other. It takes Adrien a bit to figure out that he has a crush on Nino, but once he does...

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Dr. Walker & Kitty Hyde series by @pearl484-blog

Summary of the first fic, Rain Falls, Everybody Lies:

Chat Noir loves the rain. He loves the danger. He loves the excitement, and he especially loves how much Catwalker hates it. 

Jekyll and Hyde AU

Adrien AUGreste Entry 3: Rain

So like the summary says, and the title indicates, this series is inspired by the popular conception of Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde - not how the book actually goes, but how it’s portrayed in popular media, with Jekyll splitting himself in two, with a “good” side and a “bad” side. 

During Kuro Neko, instead of just changing his appearance through changing his mindset, Adrien took more extreme measures, sealing off his “undesirable” characteristics, his anger and sadness and all his sharp edges, into the ring so he could assume a more placid, genial persona that’d be more accepted - Cat Walker. 

But Chat Noir’s still there, taking over whenever Adrien gets too testy, and desperately trying not to be pressed out of existence entirely. With embodying Adrien’s sealed anger and snappishness and rebelliousness, he’s not too kind to the other heroes - he already felt looked down upon and ignored before this, and seeing them accept Cat Walker while he’s fighting for his life doesn’t endear them to him either.

The series isn’t unfair to them - this isn’t a case where one party is entirely in the wrong and another’s entirely in the right. Marinette, Zoe, Nino, and all the others - they did wonder about what was going on with Chat, but he wasn’t in a position where he could see it, and he did have legitimate questions about how much Ladybug would budge on things, if he’d told her what he was going through. It’s a series that emphasizes characters hurting and lashing out in some terrible ways, but that hurt still being respected, and working things out, trying to get everything to a better place.

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First Dance, Second Chance by @gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights

After fighting by Ladybug's side as Aspik, Adrien finally has an excuse to connect with her. But when Gabriel voices concerns about Ladybug during a charity event, Adrien realizes she might need him for more than just one dance.

Or, the one where Ladybug and Adrien work together to find out Hawkmoth's identity, while maybe squeezing in a date or two along the way.

Ladrien Hawkmoth defeat fic here! I love Ladybug and Adrien teaming up to figure out how to track down Hawkmoth and defeat him, and being super supportive of each other more generally. If you like Ladrien and Hawkmoth Defeat fics, you should check it out!

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The Great War by icebelle24

'And maybe it’s the past that’s talking, screaming from a crypt Telling me to punish you for things you never did So I justified it'

The unthinkable happens, and suddenly, Chat Noir’s allegiances change. Now Ladybug stands on the opposite side of the battlefield from the boy who was once her partner, left alone to make sense of an impossible situation.

At least she still has Adrien to give her hope. Or maybe things are not entirely as they seem.

I adore Ladynoir enemies au, and this is a good one. The reveal of what’s really going on is pretty great, everything makes sense. I love the pieces of Alya’s POV in this as well, as she’s trying to support Marinette through one of the biggest betrayals that could possibly happen, even while Marinette’s making some frustrating decisions that don’t make much tactical sense. Everyone’s pissed at Chat Noir (now Cat Walker) for apparently siding with Hawk Moth, and the subsequent frustrating inability to make any headway against him, as Ladybug always insists on fighting Cat Walker personally, and letting no one else take part. 

---

The moment I knew (I’d no choice but to love you) by @bbutterflies

“He’s dating me,” Nino said, taking Adrien’s hand in his own.

Adrien could only stare back at him in shock.

“How dare you all force him to come out?” Nino continued, glaring at the reporters. “That was disgusting.” He pulled Adrien over to the car, guided him in, and shut the door behind them.

In the relative quiet and privacy of the backseat, Adrien finally processed what had just happened. “So… when were you going to tell me we were dating?”

This Adrino fic is delicious XD. Reporters keep hounding Adrien about his love life, so Nino finally gets them off Adrien’s back by fake-dating him. Problem is, Adrien’s actually been madly in love with Nino for years but has never been able to tell him. And now as they’re spending more time together, Nino’s beginning to find that he’s enjoying all these “couple” activities more than maybe he ought to if it’s entirely platonic...

If you want to see Adrien and Nino PINING for each other while “fake” dating (is it really fake if both parties want it to be real?) then you’ve come to the right fic!

---

Evillustrator Reimagined by onewaywriteturn

A full, mostly-standalone rewrite of the episode "The Evillustrator".

Nathaniel never planned to tell anyone about his secret crush on his friend Marc, but his world changes when Chloe picks up his sketchbook and mocks his art in front of the whole class, inadvertently outing him as bisexual. Now as the Evillustrator, he has two objectives: to take vengeance on Chloe for what she did to him and to go on a date with Marc for his birthday.

At the same time, Marinette is already struggling to defend Sabrina from Chloe when she learns of the Evillustrator's crush on Marc, one of her good friends. And while getting Marc involved with an akuma fight is messy enough, the fact that Marc has secretly liked Nathaniel for a long time complicates the situation so much more.

If you ever wanted to see Evillustrator rewritten to focus around NathMarc, this is the fic for you! The two of them just PINE for each other so hard and are so convinced that the other person couldn’t possibly actually want to date them, even with Evillustrator making it uh. Exceedingly obvious XD.

[shrinkthisviolet]

It's Love Letters Night! Send love and positivity to your favorite writers and bloggers!

This got really long so I’m sticking it under a cut 😅:

@negative-speedforce you are absolutely amazing. I love your posts and fics, I love Siv, and I love how much you love Nora (your fic about both versions of Nora sharing a name and the ✨insecurity✨ that would cause lives in my head RENT-FREE) and!! You’re an Iris and Reva defender just like me!! 🥰

@vexic929 you’re so amazing and fun to talk to! You have such wacky off-the-wall ideas and you make them work so well and I love you for it 💞 Malcolm, Berrie, and Beth in particular are so dear to me, and so are their fics!

@goldheartedchaoticdisaster you’re so fun to talk to, especially the OUAT stuff lately 🥰 I also always appreciate seeing your comments on my fics, they’re always long and wonderful and you’re just a delight. I can’t wait to see how you write Rowan, I love Nicky and Stephanie, I love your characterization of Mike Barnes and his family (canon to me!! Everyone read “bad boy (no more)”, it’s so good), and your CK Mini-Rewrites? *chefs kiss* you should’ve written the show

@angst-is-love-angst-is-life you pulled me into my current whump fixation headfirst 😂 I love reading through the whump prompts on your sideblog (@whump-is-love-whump-is-life, for anyone who wants to check it out), and I love talking to you 🥰 you also make me cry with how much you hurt Barry in Trophy and 12 hours, but I respect the whumpy endeavors

@fezwearingjellybananas you’re such a delight 🥰 you pulled me into Snowest with “Milk and Sugar”, your fics are so fun to read (and often a niche/novel premise), and I love seeing your sweet comments on my fics! I also so love the cycle of inspiration we’re in 😂 (for context, they got inspired by my Morgan AU to write Speedster Siblings, which (along with Gone in a Flash) then inspired me to write my Daddy Issues AU)

@starstruckpurpledragon (aka @kitkatt0430), you are wonderful and amazing and you’ve written so many amazing fics and meta for this fandom!! You have great takes, super interesting ideas…and you’re so wonderful to talk to. You also (along with @alittleflashvibe) pulled me into Saverb with “You Must Live (For Me)” 😂 much appreciated for that

@alittleflashvibe you are a delight and incredible and your Barrisco takes are such a highlight of this webbed site 💞 you always get me to see something new in their scenes, it’s terrific. You also pulled me into shipping Barrisco in general 😂 (you and @starstruckpurpledragon, as I mentioned above)

@frosty-the-killer-doll hiii I know we don’t talk a lot but I just wanted you to know you’re incredible and I love your takes on Caitlin and Frost—you’ve gotten me to see them both in new ways (that web weaving post about how Frost’s instinct to protect was corrupted by vengeance?? That was inspired, and it’s only one of your many great takes about her and Caitlin!). I also love love LOVE the Jesse fic you wrote, it’s like you read my mind fr 💞 love having you as my mutual

@icedteaandoldlace you’re so wonderful too! I’ve loved following along with your comments as you read my Morgan AU…and you’ve given me such a wonderful appreciation for Kamilla and Kamisco. Your Kamilla & Caitlin friendship fic is so sweet and I love it to pieces

@blackaquokat where to even begin 😅 we’ve been mutuals for like…what, years now? I don’t even remember how it started, but I DO remember your WKM fics and how incredible they are 🥰 your OC for the DA is absolutely how I view them, and your fics are so canon to me, you deserve all the love for crafting such a meticulous world from the pieces Mark gave us.

@seek--rest your fics are OUT OF THIS WORLD and so are your takes!! You’re one of my favorite Spidey fic authors (and that’s a very short list 😂), you’ve gotten me to see him and MJ in such incredible new ways (Irondad but make it MJ!! Ingenious!!), and you have great takes overall (your post-Blip meta my beloved!!), here and in the discord. You also wrote the May & Sally fic of my DREAMS!! Some people might call you an “absolute displeasure to know”, but I couldn’t disagree more, you’re wonderful 💞

@abcd-em on the note of “Irondad but make it MJ”, Vagary lives in my head rent-free 💞 you’ve written PeterMJ in so many wonderful ways, but that in particular really sticks with me. And you’re such a sweet person in general

@hollow-dweller speaking of great takes…hollow you’re practically oozing with them, here and on the discord. I always come away learning something, and you just have so many amazing thoughts?? Also I keep thinking about the Peter & Jessica fic you wrote like…oh my god?? Inspired?? I must applaud you 👏👏

@robbyykeene your CK takes are so incredible, you’re the first account I go to for them, I love reading your posts. You’re so right 💞

@leohttbriar i adore your fics! Your Samtory ones live in my head rent-free, and so does “for what do we live (but to make sport for our neighbours)” like!! You Get It!! You Get Penelope and Charlotte!!

@jenpsaki I can hardly talk about Samtory and not mention you, when you’re the one who pulled me into this ship with “different but same” 🥰 and thank you so very much for that

@arrthurpendragon you are a key pillar of the OC community and so wonderful 🥹 thank you for hosting that exchange event back in July of last year, it pulled me into the OC community and I’m so grateful for it

@lady-of-the-spirit you’re delightful to talk to, you have great takes for pretty much everything (ESPECIALLY Star Wars), I love Hestia, and I’ve never seen HOTD but I love how passionate you are about Alicent 💞

@basimibnishaqs speaking of having great takes about Star Wars…🥰 Rey & Luke being father and daughter especially, I LOVE your posts on the subject. And this fic you wrote about them!! An AU ofc but so very sweet to me 💞

@practically-an-x-man you and I are fairly new to being mutuals but I love having you as one 💞 still chugging through the Ophelia fic, but I love it so far! And ofc as I mentioned before, you write AMAZING whump (as shown in this incredible fic!)

@azaablue your ATLA fics are out of this world, but “beautiful boy” and “Push and Pull” in particular always sticks with me 💞 all the kudos in the world, you Get It, and you’re so wonderful. A gem in the ATLA fandom

@calliopieces your Maiko fics are a GEM in The ATLA fandom, especially ��crowning glory” 💞 you just Get Mai and her family situation, and especially Fire Nation girlhood, and I love this fic so much for it

[sanfangirl-cynicalromantic]

11 People's Hiccstrid Preferences You Want to Get to Know Better

Last Hiccstrid Fic You Read: Reconciliation by @heathenvampires

Favorite Hiccstrid au (Modern, High School, Spy, College, Hogwarts, etc) and favorite fic in that genre: I love modern aus the most (as they included high school and college and spies and the like) but it's too hard to choose one favorite. 😅 I guess I would go with @harrypanther's Behind the Mask, @katergator84's Walls We Build, and @triumphantfury's Wrapped in Red although it was painful to choose that over Upside of Heartbreak

Latest Hiccstrid Bookmark on AO3: Gravity by @weepynymph

Last 3 Hiccstrid Authors You've Read: @hiilikedragons or CuriosityRedux, @heathenvampires (HeathenVampires), and

Favorite Hiccstrid Trope (i.e. friends-to-lovers, idiots-to-lovers, rivals-to-lovers, enemies-to-lovers, strangers-to-lovers, love-at-first-sight, angst . . . the list goes on): uhhh, I love all of these, but I guess I'll go with slowburn, because I like to torture myself? One amazing slowburn-on-high-heat Hiccstrid fics that had me screaming at them to kiss from chapter one was @whathappenedtomyweekend's It's Just A Spark I'm so worried I'm going to read another fic and then go oh shit this one's my new favorite but oh well

Song That Makes You Think of Hiccstrid: 2step by Ed Sheeran. IDK I just think it kinda perfectly protrays how much Hiccup appreciates Astrid's ability to help him out of his dark holes

Favorite Canonverse Fic: Okay so Here's Hoping isn't exactly canonverse but the extraordinary @hiilikedragons apparently has a better grasp on Hiccstrid and their kids than Dreamworks so it's practically canon in my mind

Favorite Canon-Divergence Fic: Persephone by @thatsnicebutimmarried (I don't think I'll ever try to not mention that wonderful genius)

Hiccstrid Fic That Deserves More Recognition (don't they all): The Lady Knight I'm kidding I swear Hiccup in a Flash I'm sorry but I am so obsessed with this fic and it's unfinished but so good and worth it. Also Thor Help Her. I believe I've mentioned this fic before but I don't have any of you messaging me about the steamy hot tension so I'll keep recommending it. One fic that blows my mind each time I read is Do Flight Simmers Dream of Inflight Emergencies? and I guess I'll stop there but there are so many more

Favorite Hiccstrid Series: if not in this world, then in the next by @impracticable-dreamer literally this is a priceless gem and I can never forget it

tagging: @ryupioupiou @triumphantfury @katergator84 @mialicassi @sorushing @per4mancecheck @limesandcoconuts @hiccstridshipper19 @athingofvikings @shipmistress9 and @bi-bi-want-dragon but feel free to participate even if you aren’t tagged!

(yes this is pretty much an excuse to gush over some of my favorite hiccstrid content and endeavor to get more recommendations)

[spnexploration]

Escort

Synopsis: Dean needs an escort to help him with his cover on a case (more of a case fic with flirting, no smut)

Pairing: I see it as Dean Winchester x reader but could be read as Dean Winchester x OC (no physical descriptions are given and she goes by what is clearly a fake name the whole time)

Warnings: Canon-typical violence

Words: 3k

This fulfils the Escort square of my 2023 SPN AU Bingo @spnaubingo

A/N: It's nice to write a really competent, confident female character!

Supernatural writing masterlist

“Dean,” Sam implored, “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Sammy, I swear to God, you keep whining about the plans and I’m gonna stop telling you the plans.”

“She’s a distraction at best, and a liability at worst!”

Dean rounded on him, “Is your complaint because she sells her services?”

“What? No.”

“Really? Because you’ve sure made a lot of jokes over the years about women in her line of business.”

“Dean, stop it. I’m worried about her getting hurt, or getting you hurt.”

“It will be fine. For all she knows, I just needed a girl to make me look good to the other suits. She won’t even know I’m casing the joint while we mingle. Nothing will happen, you and I will go back later without the girl. Girl will just earn some easy cash looking pretty.”

Sam sighed. Dean took that as a win. He gave his brother one last look before grabbing his keys off the motel room table. “I’ll go find a girl.”

---

Dean rolled down the window as he pulled up to a girl standing on the street corner. He was already in a tux. “Hey sweetheart,” he said as he rolled down the window. “You wanna have a Pretty Woman moment tonight?”

She looked like she was struggling to control the urge to roll her eyes. He liked her already.

“Hey handsome,” she said, leaning through the open car window. “What did you have in mind?”

“I need an escort for a big fancy party my work is throwing.”

“And you didn’t want to call a real escort service?”

“The others probably know all of them.” She laughed. “So I thought I’d branch out.” In reality, he didn’t want the arrangement written down anywhere.

“And let me guess, you want some services that aren’t available on their menu, too?”

“Nah, strictly escort tonight. Possibly the easiest money you’ll make, except for the need to smile your way through painful small talk about the best way to fold napkins.”

“And what would you have me wear?” she asked in a sultry voice.

“I got ya a dress. It’s in the back, we’ll go to the service station and you can get changed in the bathroom.”

“How long’s the party?”

“Few hours.”

“I charge $120/hr.”

“Fine.”

She opened the car door and slid inside. “Nice car,” she remarked as she ran her hands over the seat.

“My Baby’s the best,” Dean replied with a smirk, before speeding off.

---

Dean pulled up to the line of cars waiting to go into the party. He turned to the woman beside him, now resplendent in a beautiful dress he’d gotten at the op shop earlier that afternoon.

“Uh, I uh, I forgot to ask. What should I call you?” he said, suddenly awkward.

She laughed. “You can call me… Hazel.”

“Alright, Hazel it is. Where’d we meet?”

“The street corner.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “I had a flat and you helped me with it.”

“Ok. Recently?” He enjoyed letting her lead.

“Just the other day.”

“Sounds good.”

“So, what do I call you, handsome?”

“Drake,” Dean said, his hand on the car door handle as a valet came up to greet them. He headed around the car and opened her door, holding his hand out to help her out. He reached his arm around her waist and held her to him. “I’m new at the company,” he whispered, “So not many people know me.”

She shot him a quick, concerned glance before schooling her features back into a smile. Dean led her up the steps and into the party, flashing two tickets on his way past.

---

The party was going well. No one seemed to mind that they’d never seen him before in their lives, and Hazel fit in better than he could have imagined. He hadn’t expected that the girl he’d gotten off a street corner would be able to pull off the escort idea, but he’d been hoping she would take the attention away from him. That wasn’t happening now that she was actually good at it, but instead they seemed to be blending in. He’d take it.

He put his hand on the small of her back and leaned down to her ear, “I gotta go to the bathroom, I’ll be back.” She smiled at him and he walked off. He glanced around the room, but he couldn’t see the artefact he was looking for.

He headed into another room, still surreptitiously checking out the walls and display cases. He headed for an empty corridor and pulled his phone out, quickly dialling Sam. “Yo, you got any idea where this thing might be? It’s not in the main hall.”

“Dean, you are the one who said that was exactly where it would be and we didn’t need any further investigation!”

“Yeah, well, I might be wrong. Zero amulets.”

“I dunno, keep scoping out the place. What’d you do with the girl?”

“Told her I was going to the bathroom, so I can’t take too long.”

“Yet another reason it was a bad idea to take her.”

“Shut it, bitch.” Dean hung up the phone, Sam was no use.

He quickly scoped out the room closest to him before deciding he needed to head back to his date.

---

She smiled as he approached. “You took a while,” she said.

“Couldn’t find it, and then there was a line of women. They take forever.”

“You try peeing in one of these dresses.”

“Nah, I’m good,” he said with a grin. She really was perfect, he’d like to have taken her out for real some time.

He glanced around, seeing the drinks table. “You want another-” he started to ask, before fading out. He saw it, the amulet. It was around the neck of the bloody hostess of the party. Not. Good.

“Yes?” Hazel asked, drawing his attention back to her.

“I- uh- sorry.”

“You see something you like?” she said with a smirk, following his line of sight to the beautiful woman with the amulet.

“Oh, no, just, you know, lost my train of thought.”

“Uh huh,” she replied, deadpan.

He looked back at her properly, “Tonight’s all about you, sweetheart.” He flashed her a smile, that usually worked.

“Let’s go talk to her, if you’re so enamoured,” she said, starting to walk towards the lady.

“No! No, wait!” he said, reaching for her hand to prevent her getting near the woman. He had a sneaking suspicion that being near the amulet would’ve been very bad for the hostess, given the descriptions he’d read about its powers. It hadn’t been entirely clear, but he had a feeling she might be being possessed by a powerful being. He didn’t want Hazel anywhere near her.

Hazel rolled her eyes and tugged her hand of his grip, heading towards the woman. “No, Hazel!” Dean said, which brought the attention of the hostess on him.

“HUNTERS!” she yelled, suddenly holding a fireball in her hand. Fuck, a witch. Hazel had paused in shock, so Dean grabbed her waist and pulled her behind him. Others were screaming and running. The witch threw the fireball, Dean dived out of the way and pulled Hazel along with him. He raced to hide behind the bar as she threw another one. The room was rapidly emptying of party-goers, running for their lives.

He reached into his pants and pulled out his gun. “Stay down,” he hissed at Hazel, who had just peeked over the bar. To his dismay, he saw her reach up under her dress and similarly pull out a gun. He groaned.

“NYPD, we can discuss your activities later,” she whispered to him.

“Of all the women on all the street corners, I got the secret cop.” She started looking like she was going to peek over the bar again and he pulled sharply on her arm to keep her down. “If those aren’t witch-killing bullets, you’ve got no chance.”

“Of all the thieves on all the street corners, I had to get the deranged one who thinks witches are real.”

“You see that fireball she threw at us? That ain’t normal, sweetheart.”

Speaking of fireballs, one took that moment to crash into the glass mirror above them, raining small pieces of glass all over them. Dean sheltered Hazel’s body with his own, then pulled out his phone.

“She’s a freaking witch, Sam!” he hissed into the phone after Sam had picked up. “We’re under attack.”

“Who is?”

“The woman who owns the amulet, she’s wearing it!”

There was a loud crack as the bar they were hiding behind took a frontal hit. It wasn’t going to last much longer.

“I’m on my way,” Sam said in the phone.

“That might be too late,” Dean replied, looking for an exit strategy. He couldn’t see one.

“There!” Hazel hissed, pointing at a door in the panelling of the back wall of the bar area. She crawled over to it, wrenching it open. “It’s a dumbwaiter.”

“Get in it,” Dean replied, “I’ll send you down.”

“No, we can both get in it. You’re not going to survive by yourself here.” To emphasise her point, more of the mirror exploded above her head. He was pretty sure the witch was just playing with them now.

He stood up, trying to get a good shot at the witch. She was surrounded by henchmen and impossible to fire at, but she threw another fireball at him.

“Ok,” he said, crossing quickly to her.

“You get in first,” Hazel ordered.

“No.”

“We’ll only fit if I’m on top of you, get in.”

He saw the determination on her face and surrendered. He awkwardly climbed in to the cramped space, then held out his hands to take her. She squished herself in on top of him, hitting a button on the side before closing the door. The cart began to drop.

Dean held his gun up, pointed at the door, as Hazel unlatched it. They were in the wine cellar, with no one around. The staff had probably run off at the sound of the gun fight upstairs. It was even harder to get out then it had been to get in, but they managed it.

Dean took a look around, looking for a door that might lead to the outside. “There,” Hazel whispered, pointing at a door to the left of them. He nodded and followed her, pulling his phone back out of his pocket.

“Sam?”

“Thank God,” Sam replied. He could hear the sound of a car, Sam must’ve jacked one. “What’s going on?”

“We’re in the cellar.”

“Ok, you’re going to need to get out and meet me so we can go back in and gank the witch.”

“I don’t think that’s going to work, Sam. They’re going to be looking for us.”

“What’s your plan?”

“I go back in, gank the witch. Sam, you get Hazel out.”

“Uh huh,” Hazel said, spinning back to him, “And how exactly are you going to do that alone?”

“Sweetheart, this ain’t my first rodeo.”

“As I might have mentioned earlier, mine either.”

“Can someone explain what is going on?” Sam yelled from the phone.

“Hazel’s a cop,” Dean replied, moving very close to her. “But no witch-killing bullets and this ain’t your normal perp, so you’re not coming with me.”

“You try to stop me going in there and it’s a crime,” she glared at him. “Obstruction of justice.”

“The justice you were looking for tonight was men who want to pick up sex workers, not witches who want to kill.”

“I’m multi-tasking.”

“The hell you are.”

“OI!” Sam yelled again. “Can you two stop squaring off for one minute to come up with a plan so you don’t both die?”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Right,” Sam continued. “How many witch-killing bullets you got left, Dean?”

“4.”

“Give me 2,” Hazel replied.

“That will halve our chances, sweetheart.”

“You keep being that arrogant and I’ll cuff you to the dumbwaiter.”

“Jesus Christ, can you both stop it?!” Sam complained.

“Ok. I give you two bullets, and then what?”

“I go in as bait,” Hazel responded, “and you hide. If the moment presents itself, you shoot.”

“You are not going in there as bait. I did not drag an innocent into this to get killed. I’ll be bait, you hide.”

She glared at him, but eventually nodded.

“And you’re taking 3 of the bullets.”

“That’s suicide.”

“It increases our chances of you ganking the witch.”

“I’m not a bad shot.”

“Me either.”

“Ok, I’m nearly there,” Sam said from the phone, seemingly forgotten in the standoff between Dean and Hazel. “I’ll try and get in and bring extra munition. I’m tall and I have long hair, please don’t shoot me.”

“Alright, see you soon Sammy.” Dean hung up the phone. He opened his gun and started to take out bullets, handing them to her.

“So,” Hazel said with a smirk, “Dean, is it? That’s what the guy on the phone called you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure Hazel isn’t your real name either. I’ll give you 5 minutes to get in a good position before I start the distraction.”

She nodded and started to jog away to the right. He couldn’t believe he was doing this.

---

Dean took a deep breath. He’d pulled out his other gun, filled with silver bullets that were going to be useless against a witch. But they might be good on henchmen, any bullet’s a good bullet if you’re human. And they’d make a distraction.

He put the normal gun in his left hand, saving his one shot with the witch-killing bullet for his dominant hand. He didn’t think he’d get a good shot, but he’d make it count if he did.

He estimated it had been about 5 minutes since Hazel had gone. Show time.

He crept up the stairs at the opposite end to where she’d gone. He could see henchmen scouring the other rooms, probably looking for him and Hazel. He took a moment to steel himself, then headed around the corner, back into the main room.

He started firing with his left-hand gun as soon as he entered the room, taking down random henchmen. Fairly quickly he was having to dive to the side, another fireball headed his way. He didn’t know where Hazel was, which he realised was a bit of a flaw in his plan. He didn’t know where to lead the witch.

Not that he was really in control of the situation. He was barely surviving as it was. He fired over his shoulder and ran for cover.

He was diving for new cover when he spotted Sam out the corner of his eye. He diverted the other direction, hoping he was still creating enough of a diversion.

Suddenly, the room exploded behind him. He span around, ducking his head under his arms to shield himself from debris.

“Witch is dead,” he head Sam yell, “Let’s go.”

“Gotta find the girl,” Dean yelled back, searching around. He could see Sam doing the same thing on the other side of the room, intermingled with the two of them firing at the few henchmen who hadn’t fled or died already. The explosion had been dramatic, Dean had no idea how Sam had caused it.

Dean finally found Hazel, trying to extricate herself from under some debris. He lifted the remnants of a table off her, holding his hand out to her to pull her up. She limped out so he wrapped his arm around her waist, helping her move faster. They quickly made it to Sam and got out of the building.

---

“I don’t know what the hell I just witnessed tonight but I have no idea how I’m going to explain this to my supervisors,” Hazel said when they were back at the Impala.

“If I were you, I’d leave out the witch throwing fireballs. Doesn’t go down well,” Dean replied.

“I suppose you want me to leave out that the serial killers Sam and Dean Winchester were here too.”

Dean shot her a glare. “We’re not serial killers, we hunt the supernatural.”

“And sometimes the supernatural like to impersonate us and give us a bad name,” Sam added. “We didn’t shoot those people in that footage from the bank vault, monsters with our faces did.”

“Any other day and I wouldn’t have believed you, but tonight I’m a little more inclined. One question though – you always pick up random women to bring into harm's way?”

“Uh, not normally, no,” Dean said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “I genuinely thought we were just going to be looking for the amulet tonight, and I just wanted someone to try and take some of the attention off me. Sorry.”

She laughed, “Wow, you don’t seem like a man who apologises easily.”

Sam, behind Dean, was laughing and shaking his head.

“So, what are you going to do?” Dean asked her.

“I have to call this in.”

Dean nodded, grimacing slightly.

“But that doesn’t mean I have to mention you,” she continued.

Dean smiled. Sam said, “Thank you.”

“When did you know?” Dean asked. “Who we were, I mean.”

“You looked a little familiar to me when I got in the car, but I thought you’d just been in the photo list of known sex worker users I’d looked at. Wasn’t until I learnt your names were Sam and Dean and you were handing me special bullets that I remembered.”

Dean nodded.

“Alright, you two better hit the road before anyone gets here. They probably already noticed the explosion.”

“Do I get to know your real name?” Dean said with one of his charming smiles. She gave a smirk and pulled a folded business card from out of a hidden compartment in her gun. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

She reached over and kissed his cheek, “Thanks for saving my life.”

“Anytime,” Dean replied, opening the driver’s door and jumping in. Sam jumped in the other side and they sped off, into the night.

“So how’d you make an explosion? Or did she just explode when you shot her?” Dean asked Sam.

“Witch-killing grenade, been working on it as a prototype. Same idea as the bullets.”

“Niiiiiiice.”

Dean twirled the business card in his fingers. Would've liked to get to know that girl some more.

.

.

.

Dean Winchester tag list:

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@lyarr24

@waynes-multiverse

@deans-spinster-witch

@zepskies

Everything Supernatural tag list:

@leigh70

@malindacath

@ellie-andthemachine

@iprobablyshipit91

@123passwort

@kazsrm67

@nerdymuffinbonkcloud

@magssteenkamp

SPN Fanfic Pond Dean x Reader tag list:

@babypieandwhiskey

@bkwrm523

@buckys-zomdoll

@canadianspnhunter

@cas-backwards-tie

@castieltrash1

@deanscarlett

@deanwanddamons

@ellewritesfix05

@emilyshurley

@emoryhemsworth

@firefly-in-darkness

@idreamofplaid

@ilovedean-spn2

@kalesrebellion

@katelyn--renee

@kayteonline

@kickingitwithkirk

@lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell

@manawhaat

@melbelle45

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@mysupernaturalfics

@notnaturalanahi

@plaidstiel-wormstache

@sinceriouslyamellpadalecki

@supernatural-jackles

@there-must-be-a-lock

@thing-you-do-with-that-thing

@trend90s

@waywardjoy

@whispersandwhiskerburn

@akshi8278

@ssonia13

[turbo-virgins]

(Don’t Fear) The Reaper

Pairing: Lucy Maclean x Cooper Howard | The Ghoul

Summary:

She kept a wary eye on its vicious stinger as she approached. “Do you… need any help?”

“How bout,” he grunted between swings, “since you’re so damn good at playin’ bait-“ another swing- “you march your pretty little self on ahead-“ swing- “and see if you can rile up every other big critter between here ‘n’ New Vegas.”

She frowned.

He yanked the tail off with a loud snap, then set back on his haunches and flashed her a yellow, patronizing smile.

“What if you run out of bullets?”

“You let me worry about that, sweetheart.”

Lucy and Cooper get up to many shenanigans on their way to New Vegas (the journey is more important than the destination right?... right??).

Tags:

Canon-Typical Violence | Enemies to Friends to Lovers | Slow Burn | Lucy is a BAMF (just give it time) | Post Season 1 |Excessive terms of endearment from The Ghoul | the road to New Vegas is paved with misadventures | the author is a sucker for Death and The Maiden imagery | the inherent eroticism of medical malpractice Drug Use Eventual Smut

Word count: 6,284 (and counting!)

It’s been a loooong while since I posted anything here, but I’ve got a new fic in the works!

Chapter 1 is below the read more and you can find the other chapters I’ve posted here on ao3 :)

Chapter 1: Where Have All the Cowboys Gone

Lucy had been staring death in the face enough lately that she thought she ought to recognize it by now. But it seemed the Wasteland was always finding new ways to surprise her.

“Look out, Vaultie,” the Ghoul barked.

Her brain had yet to parse his command. She looked at him over her shoulder, lips parted to ask him what that weird hissing sound was. What she failed to notice was the small tide of earth zigzagging its way straight toward her.

The ground erupted beneath her feet. Sand burst into the air in a mighty plume and sent her sprawling. Her back connected with a stretch of crumbling pavement that ripped the breath from her lungs.

Pincers the size of her torso snapped through the space she’d occupied not less than a moment ago. The afternoon sun gleamed off their gray-blue carapace. A strange chittering emitted from the creature as it sifted through the cloud of dust.

With a yelp she scrambled backwards, frantically kicking herself along to put precious distance between her and the whatever-it-was. A stinger attached to a tail the size of a tree trunk hurtled out of nowhere and gouged the dirt between her legs.

An ear piercing whistle came from the Ghoul’s direction. “Come on you big motherfucker,” he taunted. Two shots rang through the air.

There was a squelch and a whine that almost would have pulled at her heartstrings if she weren’t actively fighting for her life. Insect-like legs skittered out from the settling cloud and for the first time she was finally able to get a look at the thing.

The rest of it was just as wicked as the pincers and stinger had her believe. Its thorax was covered in that same blue-gray carapace. Several pairs of black beady eyes glimmered above a set of greedily clicking fangs. It arched its tail, curling it through the air in its own taunting gesture as it shifted to face the Ghoul.

“Atta girl.” He leveled his pistol at it again and pulled back the hammer.

The creature - scorpion, Lucy realized - launched toward him with a surprising burst of speed. Before she could even shout for the Ghoul to run, he pulled the trigger.

Bang.

Its many legs tangled together as its thorax crumpled to the ground and skidded to a halt not two feet from him. He set his boot atop its carapace and tilted his head, appraising his work as its tail gave one final thrash and dropped to the ground with a useless thud.

Lucy allowed herself to lay on the ground. Just for a moment. Just to let her heaving lungs catch their breath and for the heady buzz of adrenaline to leave her system. “What… what?” she asked aloud to no one in particular.

“Radscorpion,” he grunted.

Pretty self explanatory, she supposed. A faint memory emerged of a book she’d borrowed from the Vault library when she was young. Mojave Flora and Fauna. Little drawings of plants and animals decorated every page. The scorpion, she remembered, had been nestled atop an outstretched palm.

She brought her own hand to her face and examined the short span of it. “Huh.” Then she forced herself to her feet and dusted her hands off on her jumpsuit. “Well, thanks for saving me. Again.”

He was already too busy to reply, as usual. He rifled through the many pockets of his duster before withdrawing a hefty knife with a jagged edge. Then he clambered atop the thorax and began hacking at the joints of its tail.

She kept a wary eye on its vicious stinger as she approached. “Do you… need any help?”

“How bout,” he grunted between swings, “since you’re so damn good at playin’ bait-“ another swing- “you march your pretty little self on ahead-“ swing- “and see if you can rile up every other big critter between here ‘n’ New Vegas.”

She frowned.

He yanked the tail off with a loud snap, then set back on his haunches and flashed her a yellow, patronizing smile.

“What if you run out of bullets?”

“You let me worry about that, sweetheart.”

She met his gaze, sharp and yellowed like his bared teeth. Somehow he hadn’t given up the game of finding new ways to cut her down despite the fact she’d saved his life.

Indignation flared hot on her cheeks, but she let it go with a low, soft sigh. “Okie dokie.”

With a gruesome squelch he ripped at the severed end of tail, then raised a hunk of pale flesh in his gloved hand. “Ever had shellfish, Vaultie?”

She braced herself for another verbal jab as she shook her head.

“Then this is the damn nearest thing you’ll ever get.”

Dogmeat, who had been curiously circling between the hulking corpse and the giant crater it left in the earth, looked up at the Ghoul and gave a sudden whine. He eyed her softly wagging tail before rolling his eyes and tossing her a handful of the meat. She snapped it out of the air with eager jaws.

He turned back to Lucy and waved her over. “Got room in that pack of yours, don’tcha?”

Reluctantly she stepped over and around the radscorpion’s spiny legs and held her pack out for him. She grimaced as he flipped it open and began dumping slimy chunks of tail meat right on top of the rest of her things. “Is there a better way to store this stuff?”

“Dinner’s on me tonight,” he said, as if that were all she needed to hear. “So don’t ever say I ain’t been a gentleman to ya.”

A snort escaped her and she couldn’t help but raise a challenging brow.

“That’ll do.” He cinched her bag shut and gave her a rough pat on the shoulder, graciously smearing his slimy gloved fingers over the fabric of her jumpsuit. Then he hopped off the carapace and went strolling down the road with Dogmeat trotting at his heels.

She hefted her (now much heavier) pack over her shoulder and glowered after him.

“Come on, darlin’,” he called, “we’re wastin’ daylight.”

With a sigh she skirted around both corpse and crater, trailing after him down the winding broken pavement.

-

Mojave nights were cold as the grave. When the sun burrowed beneath the horizon in a brilliant smear of reds and purples and oranges it took the sweltering desert heat right along with it. Never with such longing did Lucy think she’d remember the stale, disinfectant-laced air of the vault with its heating and cooling systems maintaining that steady seventy degrees fahrenheit.

She sat as close to the campfire as she could stand. Knees to her chest, arms wrapped around them, teeth chattering no matter how tightly she clamped her jaw. Their first few nights on the road - when the constant clicking had worn the Ghoul’s tattered patience too thin - he threatened to pull her molars out one by one.

“Sell ‘em for a handful of caps too, while I’m at it,” he’d added.

To her relief he never followed through. And tonight he was too preoccupied with the task of cooking up the radscorpion tail. He squatted opposite her, dented frying pan in hand, shuffling the sizzling meat around with the end of his knife.

It left her free to study him - a habit she couldn’t seem to shake ever since she first laid eyes on his strange, marred face. The firelight had a way of catching the craters in his skin, flooding the deep sockets of his eyes with wavering shadows, and drawing her attention to the cavernous opening where his nose once was. It left her mind brimming with a dozen questions that were far too brazen for the good manners that had been embedded in her over the years.

What are you? She’d given in and asked the question when he’d driven her beyond the capacity to recall said manners.

Now she had several answers. He was a ghoul. A bitter, broken, irradiated shell of a man. A remorseless killer and finger-stealer. Her one-way ticket to finding her father, to finding the truth. But all of those things were many, many strokes short of painting a full picture.

Oh I’m you, sweetie.

She knew that had been a dig at her, one of the first among many. But she was learning there was a certain truth to it that even he hadn’t anticipated. It was in his easy smile, the crooked cadence of his walk, the cheeky glimmer in his eyes when he said something he thought would rile her up - an old-world kind of charm the biting sandstorms of the wastes hadn’t managed to carve out of him yet.

He reminded her of the pre-war cowboy holos she used to watch with Norm and her dad. Well, maybe if she squinted hard enough-

Without warning he flung a steaming sliver of radscorpion at her straight from the pan. She fumbled it in her hands, hissing through her teeth as it scalded her skin. She managed to drape it over her gray finger. The half dead nerves barely registered the stinging heat. After a few rapid blows to cool it down she took her first bite.

The texture was… spongy. Almost rubbery. Squeaky between her teeth. But the flavor - salty with a hint of something smoky - was enough to make up for it. She gave a pleased hum and a nod.

When he tossed her another piece she was ready for it.

“Goes good with a bit of melted butter,” he announced before craning his head back and dropping a large bite straight down his gullet.

“Butter, huh?” She’d seen it referenced in the Vault-Tec approved cookbooks they used in her home ec classes. More often than not it was scratched through with faded ink and someone had been kind enough to supply a substitution in the margins.

“‘Spose you didn’t have any cows or brahmin in that vault of yours.”

She shook her head.

“Ain’t that a cryin’ shame.” But he didn’t sound sorry at all.

They ate the rest of their meal in silence. Dogmeat licked the grease out of the pan when it had cooled, then curled up in a tight little ball next to the Ghoul. With a huff she flicked her ears back and drifted off to sleep.

The Ghoul settled into the dirt with his pack behind his head and gave her a lazy scratch along her shoulder. Then he pulled his hat over his face.

There was an unspoken agreement that the first watch was hers. It took her far longer to drift off anyway. Every strange sound and shift in the wind set her on edge. Tonight, cowering beneath the blanket of stars, she listened to a far off howling that raised the fine hairs along the nape of her neck.

She scanned the dark, rolling sand dunes on the horizon for any sign of movement, but found none. A chilling breeze swept through their camp, stirring up a puff of smoke and ash from the dying remains of the fire. An uneasy feeling rolled through her gut. Like she was being watched.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she was rifling through her pack for her syringe rifle. The whole time she kept glancing over her shoulder, ears strained for the sound of sifting sand.

Something skittered across the ground and collided with her knee. She yelped and clutched the collar of her jumpsuit as her heart seized beneath her knuckles. When she looked down she found the Ghoul’s pistol laying in the dirt.

“I can hear you shakin’ in your boots from all the way over here.” He was propped up on his elbow, watching her beneath the brim of his hat. His eyes glimmered with something between annoyance and amusement - a flicker of that old-world cowboy charisma. “That little peashooter of yours ain’t good for much besides pissin’ things off.”

Tentatively, she pulled the gun into her lap.

“If you’re gonna take it, you best be ready to use it.” He pulled his hat back over his eyes and returned to his makeshift pillow.

“Um, thank you. I appreciate it.”

He gave a noncommittal grunt.

Another howl echoed across the endless barren stretch of sand. She dragged her eyes from him, from the line of his jaw peeking out just beneath the brim of his hat, and returned her gaze to the horizon. As she tightened her fingers around the pistol grip and rested her half-dead finger atop the trigger, she found it a little easier to swallow back her fear.

[laughroditee]

Thinking about the COD urban fantasy AU that I will be writing a fic for. I have a background in fine art and comics and have experience with video editing, so because of this, this fic came to me as a movie trailer, which I plan on making an animatic of. (If I can get my husband to learn how to voice the characters, I may include voices as well.) But it came from the idea:

What if there was a necromancer who would raise your loved one, but if you didn't pay them, they'd take control of them?

And that leads us to the

"Repossessed" Trailer Script, starring necromancer!graves

(please note that I do not have any formal training in actually formatting scripts so these are just my notes for the animatic. Filmmakers, don't come for me.)

(OPEN on a cityscape at sundown, cue music, if any.) Voiceover: "The name's Graves."

(NIGHTTIME. cut to a scene of a man, back to us in a cemetery. Close in on headshot, he turns to face the camera.) V/O: "Phillip Graves."

(INTERIOR OFFICE, DAYTIME. Graves is seated behind his desk, feet up, leaning back in his chair, maybe playing with a Rubix cube or something, speaking with a client, whom we can't see yet.)

Client: "Phillip Graves? As in 'fill up graves?' That's a bit… on the nose isn't it?"

Graves (smirking bc he's a cocky mf): "I don't so much fill ‘em up as I do empty ‘em out nowadays."

(Cut back to scene of Graves in the cemetery where a green, eldritch light glows from his hand.) V/O: "As a necromancer, I can bring anyone back from the dead."

(Cut back to Graves in office, looking at client.) Graves: "For a Price."

(Graves leans forward, cocking his head): "What would you pay?"

(Flashes of the deceased, happy.) V/O: "What would you do...?"

(Flashes of the deceased and the client together, loving etc huehuehue) V/O: "...To have them back with you?"

(Cut to Graves sitting behind his desk, holding up photo of the deceased between two fingers, looking at his client, cocky and eager.) Graves: "Pretty little thing like this? What's it worth to ya?"

(Cut to John Price seated in the chair opposite the desk, looking grief-stricken, desperate, and determined): “Everything.”

(cut to black, dramatic pause if there's music)

(Cut to first person POV, looking up at Graves, giving you a hand.) Graves: “Welcome back, darlin', to the land of the living.”

When I post the art (storyboards and eventual video) for this, it will be on my art blog @momokeen and reblogged from there. (I try to keep my 18+ stuff here separate from my main blog, even though I update more here, currently.)

Issues I know I will have:

Time - my chaotic brain always has a billion projects going at once, which is why I wanted to at least put this much out. I have at least four other fics that need attention, not to mention actual real life, and running a small business. I will be doing it though. It may not be good, but it will be done, eventually.

Finding the right music. Currently I'm looking for good epic trailer music. I have zero money to commission someone to compose something custom, otherwise I would ask my friend if he'd take the job.

Voices (because I want them 😩)

The decedent. I had planned on writing the fic as a "x you" POV, but if I'm including a visual trailer, done in the way that I want, obviously I have to pick one way the decedent looks, which I know will leave many people feeling left out. This is why I tend to make OCs, as it's easier for me to make decisions that my OCD and trauma brain won't let me make otherwise, because "this person is their own person and this is how I've developed them." (Also I'm new to fanfic, pls forgive me. I know OC x Canon is the less-liked option here. I really struggle with trying to make everyone happy, to the point that it's debilitating and I honestly don't know what to do.)

And finally, ✨mental health✨.

But yeah, that's it. That's a thing I'm gonna make. This was step one. Thanks for reading. 🖤

[uselesssomebody]

𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕕𝕒𝕞𝕟 𝕤𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕖 - joel miller x reader

complete masterlist | joel miller masterlist

words || 𝟟.𝟝𝕜

summary || in which the reader's smile is a sight in the q.z.

a/n || i love him, your honor ➵ i'm watching the mandalorian so expect some fics on that soon! ➵ set before the show, so possibly canon divergent? no real main characters except the millers are a part of this ➵ i'm 90% sure i didn't accidentally spoil the show or game in this, except that ! news flash ! joel has a brother ig? ➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/angst ➵ show-typical violence and graphic descriptions of blood and wounds

she hurt again. she always does, be it the dull ache of her shoulders, the burn of her calves or biceps, or her stomach - excruciatingly, about one week out of the month. this time, it was a headache, the damn thing feeling as though her head would split open if she didn’t do anything about it in the next few moments.

luckily, some superior being out there heard her silenced, wailing pleas, as she lifted her eyes to a figure approaching her. his hand was outstretched, and she was so glad to see her relief in his hands that she clutched it desperately, pulling it out of his grip.

“hello to you too.” he mumbled, a large smile quirked on his chapped lips. well, as large of one as you can have in this godforsaken q.z., anyways. he watched as she swallowed the painkiller immediately, not even bothering to grab the small bottle of water in her bag. had any other person taken the pills he’d so delicately procured without promise of goods on their own side, he’d probably have shot them.

but he knew her. and he knew she wouldn’t.

he leaned slightly against the crumbling brick wall shielding this particular back alley, taking note of the way her previously tensed features softened, until the furrow of her brow and clench of her jaw was replaced with a smile instead.

this one, though, was actually large - for even pre-pandemic standards. she was like that a lot - smiling, happy, excited. positive. it was a hard thing to come by nowadays.

“thanks, tommy.” she sighed, reaching into her bag quickly to return the favor. the box that came out was a bit greasy and moist, and the smell of good food hit tommy miller’s nose almost intrusively, not used to the smell after the past week of food that could be bought with ration cards. the q.z. may have provided sustenance, but flavor seemed the be considered just as bad as the fucking zombies in here.

in similar fashion, he takes it out of her hand, finding different, small seasoning and sauce packets, as well as a plastic wrapped container of chicken. he shut the box quickly, as if worried the meat would come alive and fly away, and she smiled at the hastiness of the action. her painkillers had been quickly packed away into her inner jacket pocket, and she’s quick to survey the surrounding.

“so, i’ll see you week after?” she nodded, as tommy began leaving.

“next sunday, noon!” he saluted at her, and she rolled his eyes.

joel had forgotten about the idea of good food until about two months ago - when his brother had returned with an odd smelling container. he wondered what on earth he’d been up to, not even letting tommy explain before he started unpacking it. the meat inside looked a little foreign, the grilled crust on it something he hadn’t seen in a long time.

“tommy, what the-”

“it’s good, ain’t it?” he had an excitable pep in his step, and joel raised an eyebrow.

“how’d - how’d ya even get this?”

“one of the smugglers - she brings in food from her trips.”

“where does she get it from?” tommy looked at him as though he was crazy.

“why the hell would she tell me, joel? what’s it matter, anyway, we got great food now!” joel - the older brother than he is - felt perturbed by tommy’s careless attitude, but shrugged it off.

“what’d you pay for it then? how many ration cards?” tommy waved him off.

“a bag of pills - painkillers. said she’d give me a box every two weeks for a bag of them.” joel shook his head, still apprehensive.

“painkillers are hard to come by, tommy, is it really worth it?” tommy didn’t respond.

it was, in fact, absolutely worth it. the brothers practically licked their plates clean that night, the taste of the still juicy chicken invading their senses after the past 7 months of mostly sloppy, shitty soups and broths.

she became a staple of their rounds, with tommy always making time to get painkillers for her, and to meet her. both brothers knew it was stupid to ‘pretend to enjoy the finer things in life’, as joel so cynically put it, but that didn’t stop their appreciation for the food.

as for her, those few months had been the first time she’d had steady supply to something to ease her pain.

truly, she didn’t know how she’d carried on so far in this pandemic, considering she used to be a school teacher before all of this. the most she’d had to deal with back then was maybe a rowdy kid or two - or worse, a rowdy parent. not zombies - or infected, whatever. not terrorists, vigilantes, raiders, the fucking feds. she was even more shocked that she’d adopted a lifestyle of smuggling, as opposed to being another menial laborer. hell, she’d been anti-gun before all of this, and now she’d go through fifteen magazines a week - on good weeks.

luckily, she was a good shot, or she supposed she’d be spending a lot less on painkillers, and a lot more on bullets. she attributed it all to the first person to pay attention to her in the q.z.

she was a bit older, the woman - maybe mid 40s at the time - but she was incredibly fit, lithe and agile. they were put on odd jobs by FEDRA all the time, and it took about four jobs before she - beth - realized they were always paired together. she’ll always remember the first thing she told her:

“you’d think they’d get a better bunch than us to do this shit.” she had gestured to the group, full of mostly the malnourished, young, and old. there were considerable overlaps in those groups, if you can imagine.

sure, that first sentence wasn’t indicative of what would have become a budding friendship, but beth was quick to take her under her wing. then, when the older woman made the switch to smuggling goods, she figured that her young friend would do good in joining her.

“i don’t know, beth, what if the feds find out?” her arms were crossed over her chest as she paced up and down beth’s tiny apartment.

“you’ve got me! c’mon, when have things ever gone wrong with me.” she could name a few, but she pursed her lips to stop herself.

“what would we even get?” beth’s eyes lit up at her slow succumbing.

“that’s just it! i have an old, old friend who’s got a farm maybe 20 miles from here. he’s got these big fences to keep out the infected, but he grows fresh fruit and - meat! can you believe it! he’s got cows and chickens, and-” she stopped herself from delving too far into her master plan, “if we smuggle in food, we can get extra ration cards, extra supplies, and maybe even trade for other things!”

the idea excited her, and she couldn’t hide it, with beth immediately picking up on the released tension in her step, and in the way her arms crossed.

“but how would i survive out there? i can’t even shoot a gun.” beth’s smile widened.

“that’s the best part, hun. i’ll teach you.”

and teach her, she did. by the time they started making the serious, 20 km hike to beth’s friend’s farm, she was more than comfortable with a firearm, using it to save their lives on more than one occasion.

the trips had become muscle memory to her. they’d travel to the farm, trade ammo for food, and then come back, and trade the food for ration cards, for cigarettes for beth, and for the occasional bottle of whiskey.

it had become such muscle memory, that they both made the journey themselves occasionally. she’d been particularly busy one week trying to wrap up a larger deal with a group of fireflies - or at least, what they used to be - for decent first aid supplies. beth had urged her to carry on, and reassured her than she’d be back within 2 days with more food.

she waited two days. then she waited two more. then she got worried.

it was risky, she knew, but she had to figure what had happened.

she’d taken the same route they always took, except something had changed. one of the buildings in which they constantly stashed goods - usually empty - was now littered with metal cartridges, blood splattered across the grimy walls. her eyes widened, confused at the scene, and so fixated in figuring it out that she nearly tripped over something.

not something, someone.

she lets out a soft gasp at the corpse, the hole in his head indicative of his fate. she looked at the bag next to him, a quick confirming her fear - raiders. she rushed into the building, seeing their hiding places all ransacked - the slot in the bookshelf, the one under the table, the one behind a painting. her eyes saw a trail of blood, and, following it, she saw beth’s glassy eyes looking back at her.

a sob broke from her before she could realize - as, though she’d hoped for anything, anything else, she knew what the fate of her good friend had been. beth’s abdomen had been scarred, her jacket flipped out as though someone had scoured her pockets. the blood on her shirt had become flaky and a deep brown, having oxidized in the past few days.

she fell beside her, wanting to grab her hands, but recoiling at the stiffness of them, at how cold they were. her hot tears felt like a sharp contrast, and it only repeated the same juxtaposition in her mind: she was alive, and beth was dead.

she’d made the trip herself that day.

and every day after that.

she didn’t speak to anyone for a few weeks. her deals occurred over the span of a minute, maximum, and she didn’t greet the teenagers that lived across from her anymore, or the elderly man who would give her her ration cards for the days work. she went back a few days later to revisit her.

she had flowers - as many wildflowers as she could find on the way, and she placed them beside her as she shut her eyes, wincing again at the cold of her skin. it had begun to smell horrible in there, with the place becoming infested with scavengers.

she knew how much beth loved nature - hell, it was half of the reason she wanted to do these runs - so she - with all the strength she could muster, brought her about a hundred meters out, under the largest tree in the vicinity. she was sure it was a fruit tree of some kind - apples, or pears, she couldn’t tell. she laid her down lightly, pushing the flowers into her form delicately. she rubbed her own nose, willing the restarting tears to simmer, before backing away, sitting in the soft grass and just thinking.

beth was a loving person. somehow, through every way this pandemic hardened her, she still loved. she’d point out pretty, fragrant flowers on their hikes, she’d dream up elaborate meals and outfits, she’d always walk with a small pep in her step. sure, she was ornery when she needed to be, but she didn’t see too much of that. she saw the way beth would laugh, would smile, and would sing. she was terrible at it, but it never stopped her.

above all, beth loved her laugh. she loved the way her face lit up at a dumb joke, or outlandish comment. at the snarky comments beth would make to her friend, or the satirical ones about FEDRA and other smugglers.

she supposed that that day had been some form of closure for her. and she thought she’d do the little she could in beth’s memor: smile.

she was hard to miss in the q.z. it didn’t help that she was always waving at tommy, a quick greeting of hello - though, one not exactly common anymore. no, the problem was that damn smile. a smile never hurt anyone, except, of course, resident cynic joel miller. it always made him feel off, somehow, unable to feel comfortable with the notion of this bright thing in this desolated town of despair.

worse, though, was that he knew it wasn’t fake. he wondered how in hell she could be enjoying seemingly everything. he always let tommy handle that trade, though he did appreciate the goods. a packet of painkillers had initially seemed a steep price for chicken, but he was quick to realize which one they came by more often.

tommy would always chastise him for his sour face. his brother was always the more carefree one, more relaxed. the perks of a younger sibling, joel was sure, but he never mentioned it much. tommy’d always smile back at her; in fact, since her, he seemed to be smiling a lot more.

it made joel roll his eyes, the both of them acting like everything was fucking peachy.

that week, tommy’d been pulled away for a deal gone awry - some guy had sold their supply before being able to pay them back for it. he had some vendetta against joel, so the only way they could salvage the situation was through his more socially able brother. he was clear when he’d left:

“noon, joel. back alley two blocks from the soup kitchen, alright?” joel had nodded, only slightly, as he enjoyed a late lie-in - for the first time in about three weeks.

though he wasn’t particularly keen, he got up at about 11:45, rinsing his face to wipe the remnants of sleep from his eyes, before leaving the place. it was only a few blocks away, so he walked casually, taking a moment to peer into the soup kitchen to see if they were serving anything a step above edible. ah, who am i kidding? he thought, reminding himself of the lovely chicken he was about to pick up.

what joel wasn’t aware of was how precarious this area was, as a FEDRA thug would be stationed to glance over the back alleys about every 15 minutes to see if there was anyone trying to steal food from the soup kitchen. thus, there was only about a 5 minute gap where there were no guards. she knew it, and she knew that tommy knew it, so she wondered where he was, knowing if he delayed too much longer their window would be lost.

she tapped her foot impatiently on the floor, rolling her shoulders to just lightly relieve their pain. when she finally hear footsteps approaching, she breathed out a sigh, reaching quickly for her bag to shorten the time of the exchange.

“jesus, tom, what’re you doing? you know we can’t-” she was fumbling with the zipper of her bag, only realizing that it was in fact, not tommy when she looked up. her eyes widened for a moment, before she seemed to recognize him, her stance dropping a little from their tensed state, “j-joel? right?” he nods, silently, arms crossed, “do you have them?” he shrugged.

“let’s see what you have, first.” she paused for a moment, before realizing that he simply didn’t trust her.

“are you serious, man? look, we don’t have time for this-” she’s cut off by the crisp sound of boots on the floor, making her realize that their time had run out, “oh - shit-” she starts fumbling to close her bag and sling it back over her shoulder, and joel seems just a bit confused. that only increases when she grabs his hands, placing them on her hips, and pulling them further against the wall.

“what the hell-” she looks up at him with such earnest that he shuts up.

“i’m sorry, just trust me.” she whispers it on his cheek, their faces only a few centimeters from each other. he sharply nods, just as she realizes that the soldier was turning the corner. she stood just a bit taller, craning her neck so that her face was parallel to his, and wrapping her arms over his shoulders.

he was pulled into her lips, the momentum causing him to dig his fingers just a bit deeper into her hips, and his mouth moving a little viciously against her own. he hadn’t done this in a long time. he was sure his actions were a little shaky, and he reminded himself of the fact that she was only doing this to make sure that the guard wouldn’t find out about worse, more nefarious dealings.

but, god, she tasted nice. he wasn’t sure where exactly she would find fresh mint to chew on, but he figured it must be from the same place she got her chicken.

his beard felt just a bit prickly against her chin, and his lips were a bit chapped, but the way he was grasping onto her hips right now made her forget all of it. she knew the act he was putting up was pretty masterful, but that didn’t stop it from feeling good. the warmth of his body had even managed to make forget about the various pains in her joints.

“hey! what the fuck is going on here?” the sharp shout of the guard made them break away, but just slightly, and she feigned an expression of scandalized shock at seemingly being caught in such a heated moment. joel ‘recovered’ faster than she did, separating from her and clearing his throat.

“nothing! nothing, man.” he held his palm up in surrender, and the guard glanced over the both of them with keen, suspicious eyes. though, upon seeing the way the back of her hair was messed up from being placed by the wall, the way his clothes had bunched up near his shoulders, and her around her hips, and that both of them seemed a bit flustered and out of breath, he stepped back, gesturing them to come out.

“do not do it again. you’re not allowed in this area, yeah?” she timidly nodded, and joel mumbled a gruff thanks, the both of them reintegrating into the busier street. she keeps her eyes fixed to her feet, hands stuffed in her pockets.

“guess i’ll just got to yours - give it to you there.” she suggested, not knowing how else she’d be able to make the exchange.

“huh? yeah, yeah - okay.” joel was still just slightly shaken up by the encounter - both at how easy it was to convince the guard of his supposed intention of simply wanting to feel the warm touch of another - and how much of it was just an act. when he glanced at her glassy eyes, his gaze ghosted over her pigmented lips, having become brighter in their color due to the intensity of their actions.

he’s happy that his apartment’s so close, as he worries what would happen if he continued to ponder on it. the door’s lock is rusted to high heaven, but he fishes out his key, unlocking the door and swinging it open. he gestured for her to go in from of him, before closing the door again.

her eyes flit over the apartment: the shoddy couch and bookshelf just adjacent of the twin bed, and the rickety dinner table closer to her. it looked a lot like hers, really, save for the large radio placed between the couch and bed, making it seem as though as it was particularly important. hey, painkillers were her way of coping with their situation; maybe music is theirs?

joel patted the front of his pocket, before reaching two fingers into it, plucking out the painkillers, and placing them on the table in front of the both of them. she looks between the bag and him once, before smiling softly, realizing that his trust for her had obviously grown since just 10 minutes ago in the alley. she reaches into her own, pulling out the familiar box and placing it in front of her, before replacing the spot in her bag that had previously held it with the bag of painkillers.

as she’d placed it down in front of her, she’d let out a short exhale, the ghost of a laugh.

“considering that exchange, you should really enjoy this chicken, miller.” a smile had continued to dance on her lips, until she’d looked up to see his rigid face: pointed stare piercing into hers, his stance as reclusive as possible, his hands crossed tightly over his chest. her face also sobered a little, averting her gaze in the slightest confusion.

“you smile a lot.” he almost mumbles it, but the accusatory undertone in the pointed statement, makes her double-take, looking up at him with furrowed brows. her mouth hangs open as she formulates a response - unsure of what really to say to that.

“i’m sorry, solemn joel miller, for smiling?” she attempts a joke, but it’s directed at him, confused at the man’s distaste for such as simple thing. he shakes his head lightly, looking away and deciding to take the box off the table to have something to do with his hands.

“that’s not what i meant.”

“no, please! tell me what you did mean.” she knew it was also stupid to get defensive so quickly, but so much of that part of her was influenced by beth, that she couldn’t help but feel a small attack on her friend’s character as well.

“just - look around us, alright? their ain’t exactly a great world out there that you’re smiling for, and the little miss sunshine thing you do - it’s boring-”

“little miss sunshine?” she had completely stilled in her place, astonished by the fucking gall, “just cause everyone doesn’t want to hate every single part of their life, you fucking cynic.” she angled her body away from him, her rage evident in every movement. she wanted to rip into him - truly - but knowing it’d do nothing more than hurt her voice, she decided against it, snatching the painkillers off of the desk, and walking back out of the door, closing - or, really slamming - it behind her.

tommy had laid into joel after another two weeks, when, after his recent meeting with her, she had made it evident that she would not be dealing through joel again.

“what the hell d’ya say to her, man? have you seen her, joel? she never gets mad at anyone and you managed to piss her off in, what, 15 minutes?” joel took the berating with a seemingly bored expression, but he’d also wondered if his crass attitude had gone too far when he last spoke to her.

it was just that damn smile.

he didn’t even know why it effected him so much, but he couldn’t help it - every time he saw that damn smile, he couldn’t think about anything else but it.

it was a distraction - and that’s why it annoyed him, he was sure. but, a part of him seemed almost scared at the effect she had on him, but that part was not something he’d be addressing anytime soon.

besides, he hadn’t really had to see it much after that, as she’d gone out of her way to not only avoid him, but to make her expression neutral should his paths crossed. and, well, though he felt like a bit of a dick, he though that would have been the end of it.

until he realized that he missed it.

they didn’t speak for the next few months. they hadn’t spoken before, either, but maybe it felt a little weirder considering they’d practically felt each up against a wall previously. though, she didn’t let the strange hiccup deter her from her work - or her smile, continuing to do so in every opportunity that she could.

her and tommy still spoke, and him - being obviously the more emotionally intelligent brother - didn’t even really bring up joel all that much in their conversation. she’d always felt a wave of memory hit her whenever she waited in that alleyway, but she never had time to dwell on it as, contrary to his brother, tommy was always on time.

she had finally returned to that state of comfort that she had felt when beth was still alive, in no part helped by her recent friendships with a neighbor or two. there was an older man in the building across from her, who was very sweet - finding a small joy by gardening, of all things. he had just the smallest pot with a sunflower growing in it, but he had cherished it like it was his baby. she had thought that it was beautiful, and though she felt that the weather always seemed a little cloudy and grey, she found a new appreciation for the sunlight that was there when she’d see the sunflower greedily soaking it up, standing proud, through the crack in her neighbor’s door.

life had been so incredibly decent, that she had forgotten it was simply a calm before a storm, just as her friendship with beth had been.

it had started in the middle of the night. one of the many smugglers in the q.z. had been infected on a run - not wanting to give himself up to his companions, and sneaking back in under the shadow of night.

that group was the first to go, and by the next day, she was woken up to the sound of blaring FEDRA alarms, jolting up so hard that she hit her shin. she paused for just the slightest of moments, trying to comprehend what was being said.

“-infected in the quarantine zone-” was all she had to hear to leap to her feet, grabbing the bag that always sat by the edge of her bed, and immediately grabbing anything and everything that she could. when she finally through her door open, she realized that she was late to the party, as all of those in her building had already deserted it.

she could barely step out of the building when she heard the heavy gunfire. considering the resources FEDRA had put into this q.z. they evidently refused to go out without a fight, and as she looked at the other side of the street, she could see a small group of them, evident by their pale faces and slightly jagged movements, mouth’s curled to create those inhumane growls. she stumbles just slightly, ducking behind her building in order to escape their view. she knew of an exit that wasn’t going to be FEDRA monitored on the other side of the q.z., but she knew that journey was dangerous at best right now.

she moved slowly, relying on small spaces between buildings and back alleys in order to move. she could hear screams - human and infected - and incessant gunfire, making her ears ring.

she was so close to getting out of here, only having to cross the large expanse between FEDRA and the infected. it was risky - and that was putting lightly, but there wasn’t really another way out of here.

she slung her bag as comfortably as she could, seeing a small blockade in the middle that she could duck under before booking it the rest of the way.

so, she ran.

and she made it to the blockade, uninjured. the bullets had whizzed around her, and she wondered if she’d make it another time. she caught her breath, and turned her head to gauge the rest of the distance.

when she did, though, she saw her neighbor - her eyes widening - as she realized that he was attempting something similar to her. time practically slowed down as she heard the exact bullet that would hit him, making him crumple to his knees.

her inhibitions practically disappear, as she forgets everything, running forward without care in order to see if she could help him. the bullet had hit his chest, and his breathing labored as she pulled him up just lightly, mumbling anything and everything she could to console him through his pain.

she couldn’t do this again - she couldn’t see someone else she cared about dead. this time, at least, she had the opportunity to help, so she would regardless of the negative consequences for herself.

then again, that is what many who don’t realize the consequences would say.

they was so close to being out of their range, but one of the stray bullet pierced her thigh as she attempted to help him his up. her knees buckle, the searing pain hitting her after a moment of just nothing, and she feels her grip on him dissolve, the both of them falling.

she keeled over him, taking off her sweater and wrapping it around her thigh, before turning to him, having to crawl slightly forward with her limp leg in order to properly look at him.

she could see it - she could see him dying, his labored breathing nothing more than a prolonging of the inevitable. nonetheless, she scrunched up the fabric in that area, desperately attempting to stop the bleeding, but it was too little, too late. he suddenly grabbed her wrist, something she felt before she saw, as the tears welling in her eyes were detrimental to her vision.

“my - my flower, did you see it?” she nods, she nods so hard that she feels her head’ll fall off.

“’f course, of course - it was so pretty - the best thing in the building.” she was rambling, hoping to remind of something happier than his current predicament. but she didn’t need to. the recognition for his hard work had been more than enough, and she felt his sighs become longer and deeper, before his stopped moving altogether.

she brought her hands to her face, desperately trying to control her tears, but they just wouldn’t stop. futilely, she crawled up against one of the buildings, knowing that she’d suffer the same fate, as when she attempted to place even the slightest pressure on her thigh, she had to muffle her screams of pain in her hand.

when she hears her name being called, she’s sure she’s misheard it, keeping her head down, and continuing to wipe her eyes.

but, she hears it more clearly, and she knows it wasn’t her imagination anymore, so she looks up, and sees joel looking down at her with the most severe look of concern he’d ever exhibited in front of her.

“jesus - what-” as he approaches her, he sees the makeshift bandage on her thigh, and the glossy tears on her face, “you got-” he can’t finish the sentence, and she nods almost a little pathetically. he gives her a quick once over, before grabbing her bag and slinging it over his larger shoulders, making it seem very small. her mouth falls open, believing he’d taken it in order to scavenge supplies off a dying body. her breathing falters at the inhumanity of the actions, before she feels his arms encapsulate her frame: one behind her back and one under her knees, “you can’t walk, can you?” the shock renders her speechless, so she opts to nod instead, and he tightens his grip on her slightly.

it’s an odd sensation, being lifted off of the ground, especially since she’d never felt it before. her thigh strained slightly against gravity, making her exhale deeply, a hiccup remaining as a remnant of her sobs, but she knew this pain was still far more bearable than her attempting to walk.

“put your arms-” she realizes that he’s still talking to her, using the minimal movement his head was now capable of to help her put her arms around his neck, taking some weight off of his forearms. she obliges, tentatively wrapping her arms over, before turning her head slightly forward and seeing the body of her dead neighbor just a few meters away.

she chokes for a moment, a mix of a gasp and a cry escaping her - and it flusters joel, making to him turn his head slightly as well, upon recognizing what she was looking at, he sighed. the heartbroken expression on her face made even him upset, and he wasn’t exactly sure how to soothe her.

“just - damn - just keep your eyes on me, okay? you don’t have to see all that.” she looks up at him, shocked by the sweetness of the comment, before nodding slightly, breathing quickly to calm her tears. he begins moving, and she sticks to his word, alternating between looking up at him, and resting her head by instead looking at the flannel he had on. when she would look at his face, she could see the tinge of worry breaking through his stoic exterior, as he attempted to keep moving despite his somewhat debilitating cargo - her. she’d wince when he’d turn too sharply, or jolt to a stop, and though she attempted to keep her winces and whimpers to a minimum, his brows would furrow each time in worry, and he would glance down at her to make sure the pain wasn’t too bad.

he’d begin shouting tommy’s name at some point, and though it took only another 5 minutes for him to rejoin his brother, it had felt like an agonizing eternity to joel. tommy stood shocked at the scene: he cared for her, but he didn’t know joel did. at least, not enough to carry her across the q.z., by any means.

“what the hell? is she-”

“shot, her thigh. we gotta get out of here - is the tunnel open?” tommy, still a bit shocked, nods, mouth hanging open, as he opened the door of the building they were standing in front of. there three of them - two, she supposed, with her in tow - made their way up to the third floor, and tommy practically kicked open one of the apartment doors. it wasn’t difficult - its previous owner had obviously left in a hurry as well. he bolts to the other side of the room, as she takes one arm off joel’s shoulder to slam the door shut behind him. a great creaking came from in front of her, and she craned her neck to see tommy moving several loose floorboards, and opening up a heavy metal hatch with a distinct, grinding pop under them. he holds it open as joel and her near it, and, when their standing in front of it, she realizes the tunnel is about 2 meters deep - maybe a little less - with a short ladder allowing easy movement.

joel worries it’s far too large a fall for her. he sets her back to her feet as gently as possible, and she immediately places as little weight on one of her legs as possible.

“here, hold her.” he takes her my her arm, resting most of her body weight on him, and helps her over to tommy, who keeps her steady with one hand as he holds the hatch open with the other. joel’s quick to scale down the ladder, before he turns his head up to look at the both of them, “you’re gonna have to jump.” her eyes widened at the idea, not believing that she’d get off the ground, much less survive the jump.

“i-what?” joel holds his hands out, and when her eyes flick up to tommy, he nods solemnly - as it was their only option.

“i’ve got ya.” she breathes deeply, squaring her shoulders, before lowering as softly as she can to her feet. as she dangles her thigh over the edge, it squeezes it, and she lets out a sharp cry that make’s both brothers wince. she uses her hands to lever her body forward, before she closes her eyes, her breath stilling.

then, she jumps, and the moment of free-fall consumes her, her body feeling as though she’s floating. and, as quickly as it occurs, it stops, when she feels joel’s arms wrap around her lower back, effectively breaking her fall before she hit the hard dirt. she uses her hands to stabilize herself when he sets her down, clutching far too tightly onto his shirt, feeling as though she was still falling. he reciprocates, sensing her obvious worry, and pulls her close to his torso, letting her ease her breathing. in a few more moments, tommy’s managed to cover up the majority of the entrance and come down. he takes her bag off joel’s shoulders.

“want me to help her?” he offers, not exactly sure how long his brother had been carrying her, but knowing that a break may have been appreciated either way.

“i’ve got her.” it’s a sharp response, and it makes tommy furrow his eyebrows, confused by the tone. he doesn’t dwell on it, though, as joel’s picked her up again, and she’s buried her face into the crook between her and his chest.

it was a long trip through the long tunnel, but, when tommy finally opened the latch on the other side, she greedily looked up at the sun for the first time that cloudy morning, so enthusiastic that when she next blinked, she could see sun spots.

it’s just a short walk from there to one of the many houses that smugglers camped in overnight on longer trips. it was a bit dingy - but at least decently clean. the last time joel had been here, smashed glass from beer bottles had littered the floor, as did some rotting food.

there was only a couch and a bed, and joel sets her down on the couch as tommy checks their inventory.

they’re ridiculously low on supplies: enough food for only one meal, and neither enough weapons, ammo or supplies in the case of an unexpected visitor.

“shit - i’ll go over to c.v.s., see if they have anything.” there was a rundown c.v.s. just a short walk from this house that had been practically stripped by the time tommy and joel had first come by it. they’d, therefore, found it to be a perfect place to stash some supplies, as many would refuse to look too far upon seeing the initial emptiness, assuming that it had been picked clean. joel doesn’t even acknowledge the sentence until he hears the door click shut.

he’s looking down at her haggard form, and, seeing that her sweater had practically soaked through in blood, he reaches for their first aid.

at least the blood was a bit old, the pressure on the wound stopping the majority of the bleeding. joel grabs the crude tweezers, stretching them so that they could comfortably pluck out the bullet lodged in her flesh. she can see the dead expression on her face, showing her obvious disassociation from her painful sensation. a pillow still remained on the couch - shockingly - so he handed it to her, instructing her to bite down on it to forget some of the pain.

she looks at him with renewed worry, unsure of how decent an anesthetic biting would be. he places his palm lightly on the knee of her injured leg, hoping to keep it in place, as he removes the sweater. the wound made her gasp, the flesh having been mangled lightly due to the rough conditions. he lifted her chin up, urging her to instead look at the ceiling. her eyes flutter, and she can feel tears glass over her eyes when she feels the metal of the tweezers ever so lightly graze her skin.

“i’m - i’ve gotta take it out, okay?” she doesn’t nod, but she doesn’t protest either, so he takes it she understands, and he lightly pulls at the skin to make the wound larger, in order to more quickly pluck out the bullet. she whimpers around the pillow, biting hard already, and he lowers the tweezers.

she can feel them inside her skin, and she uses her hands to squeeze the pillow as well, her screams becoming more distinct, loud.

“you’re good, you’re good, you’re doing good-” joel doesn’t even know how to console someone, but he tries his level best, praising her endlessly as he swiftly, but meticulously pulls out the bullet. the blood restarts, practically spurting out of her leg, and she can feel the liquid over her skin, weaving around her hair follicles as she desperately attempted to keep her leg still. he places a cloth over it, before replacing it with gauze immediately, allowing the material to soak up the blood. the pain still consumed her, but it turned from sharp to more dull. she drops the pillow, along with her hands. they were both panting, but their breathing slowed, as they realized that the stress was less in that moment. he keeps a firm hand on her thigh, and she lets her head drop against the couch.

in another few minutes, he reminds her that he still needs to stitch her up. it hurt like a bitch too, but nothing trumped the feeling of the bullet leaving her body. he made swift work of the procedure, and she wondered how many times he’d had to do it.

when he’d finished, he lowered his arms, breathing a deep, relieved, and contemplative sigh as he sat back a little, taking weight off of his own legs. though her leg was stitched up, she was fully against the idea of getting up, so she relegated herself to getting comfortable on the couch. joel also got up after another few moments, placing the first aid back in her bag, before taking a look around the house - seeing if any previous visitors had forgotten any supplies.

they had, as an unopened ziplock of crackers sat in one of the kitchen cabinets. it hadn’t been here last month when they’d previously stopped by, and the opened the container, inspecting it carefully to see if it was alright to eat. he took a small bite and, determining that it was alright, he walked back over to the couch.

she had lightly adjusted to the side as he had neared, so he relaxed into the cushion next to her, trying not to invade her space. he handed her a cracker, which she graciously accepted. she hadn’t realized how hungry she was, not having eaten since the previous night.

“it’ll make you feel better,” he’d mumbled, as he handed it to her, and she breathed a quiet thank you in response. they sit in a silence only broken by the crunching of the crackers, and she finds herself ever so subtly glancing at the man next to her.

he looked tired, which was understandable, and his hard expression remained on his face. the severity of it reminded her of their only prolonged conversation - which was truly more of an argument.

“why - why did you help me?” it’d been a question plaguing her since he had so delicately patched her up - a far cry from the man who had condemned her for as little as smiling.

his brow furrows at the question, as he’d not been accepting it.

“what? you were bleeding out on the street - i couldn’t just leave you.” she let the explanation mull in her head, before shaking it.

“no - so many people were like that, but you only helped me. why?” he turned his body just slightly to face her, a bewildered expression on his face.

“did you not want me to?” she immediately protests.

“no! i mean - i’m grateful. honestly, i’d have been dead hours ago had it not been for you. it’s just-” suddenly, his stare felt too intense, and she averted her eyes, “you always gave off the impression that you didn’t like me.” she shrugs, hoping it’s a sufficient explanation. it seems to be, as he goes silent. then, he breathes deeply.

“i do - i do. tommy likes you, so i’ll like you.” it’s a diplomatic answer, and she realizes it, but she decides to nod instead of probing further.

“alright, well - thank you.” she goes to smile, but stops herself, “i’m allowed to smile, yeah?” she means it as a half-joke, but he finds a lot of amusement in it, looking at her quizzically, before laughing at the comment. she’d never even seen him crack a smile, much less a laugh.

it was a nice change of pace.

“please do. you haven’t done it since morning - i was starting to get concerned.” though her previous smile may have been one of politeness, this one comes from the sarcastic nature of the comment.

the quirk of her lips gave him some peace, his mind having been racing with worry over her for the past few hours. maybe it was distracting, but he supposed everyone needs a little bit of that.

and if it comes in the form of a pretty smile - even better.

[caramel1mochi]

Hi! May I request a fic or HCs (if you’re comfortable with one of these choices) involving Ryo Kiritani (Yoru) with VP agent![Reader] [Gender Neutral or Female] [Romantic] gifting him a new knife to add in his collection? I think it’s canon he has a hobby like that and [Reader] happen to pick one up from their previous mission.

Surprise! [Request]

Here you are, hope it's a good one! The request was kinda short. I tried my best to make due, haha.

Words: 1500+

❤ฺ·。

You and the cold never got along well. And that includes any country that involves it. Like Russia, Canada, Norway, that sort.

So when you were assigned a mission in Icebox, of course it felt like the longest day of your life. From the fur on your coat making you sneeze every other second, to the enemies bringing every single person who had a flash along. Now, your eyes were burning too.

But after what felt like days, it was thankfully over, and you were making your way to the aircraft from mid with something in your pocket for your other half.

Then, you felt a slap on your back.

“Hey bestie! Did you see me back there? It was insane! I would’ve gotten all of them if it wasn’t for–”

You sneezed, a quiet achoo. And as per usual, Jett couldn’t stifle her laughter, slapping your back again.

“Your sneezes are so cute!”

“You’re making the fur fly into my nose!”

“I’m doing you a favour. Just sneeze around Yoru and I bet he’d act like he was under a love spell!”

You met her gaze in confusion.

“He’s already my boyfriend, remember?”

“Tomato tomato.”

She shrugged. And with a sigh, you pulled out the object in your pocket, the gentle rays of the sun reflecting off of it.

“Hey, when’d you get this?”

“Not mine. Yoru dropped it when he ran in behind them, I wanna give it back.”

“Cool! I’ve never seen this before. He’s been whining about his collection lately, did he get this?”

As blunt as her statement was, Yoru had been thinking about getting a new knife to spice things up. You went to a bladesmith secretly to find something a few days ago, but none of it seemed like it would impress him.  Of course, you were disappointed he bought a new knife before you did.

She suddenly took it from your hands and began playing with it.

“Careful, Yoru gets mad if there’s one imperfection.”

“Don’t be such a drama queen, I’m an expert at knives. I killed two of them today with just two! I think all the practice is finally paying off.”

“Yeah?”

But before you could continue the conversation, the distant chatter of your teammates took over the sound of the ice crunching under your shoes, the aircraft sitting right next to them. Viper, who had her hands on her hips, noticed you whilst she was talking and waved you all over.

Jett quickly handed you back the pocket knife.

“I have to go yell at Phoenix, he ruined my killstreak!”

And with that, she disappeared into the aircraft, leaving you to join the conversation Viper was having with Yoru and Sage who seemed relieved to see you. But what caught your eye was that Yoru was flipping his signature butterfly comb in his hand. Did he seriously bring two knives?

“Good, you’re here. Are you hurt at all, Y/N?”

Sage asked and you shook your head with a smile, struggling to suppress an upcoming sneeze.

“Then let’s go back. This weather is sickening.”

Viper noted before she and Sage quickly entered the VLT/R, leaving you alone with Yoru.

“Hey, princess. What took you so long?”

“Oh, you know, Jett was bragging about toda–”

You sneezed, cupping your hands on your cold, cold face.

“Yea, I saw her. Keep this between us, but it was pretty good.”

Unlike your friends, Yoru didn’t react to your sneezing and simply continued the conversation. After the fifth time, it got old and he didn’t care as much as your friends did. But to be fair, when did he ever care?

“Yo, how many knives did you bring today?”

“One. Why?” 

Though you asked in a way to somewhat tease him, his reaction left you confused.

“Just one?”

“Yeah, this one.”

He flipped his butterfly comb shut and held it up, raising an eyebrow.

“Is the cold getting you, or something? Hurry up, let’s get you warm before something happens to you.”

“I’m not a kid–”

Before you could complete your sentence, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside the aircraft, shutting you up as politely as he could. But that doesn’t mean you weren’t weirded out by what he just told you.

If this wasn’t his knife, then whose was it? On the handle, there clearly was an oni engraving. Even down to the way the horns would stick out with impressive sharpness, how the creature’s devilish eyes were slanted downwards and providing a formidable villainous aura. It screamed Yoru in every possible sense.

…whatever. You’ll worry your head off when you’re warm. You lay your head on Yoru’s shoulder and were basically half-asleep the whole ride back to the base.

❤ฺ·。

Your nose was red, and so were your cheeks. Your hands were ice cold, lips and the tips of your fingers a light shade of blue.

With all of this combined, you were now locked up in your room covered with, at the very least, three thick wool blankets, one Yoru brought himself in order to keep you warm, and one of his thick hoodies before he had left to make you that drink to warm you up. Which you hoped would be hot chocolate. 

Maybe you were asking for too much, but he knew what he was getting into by dating you. He calls you ‘princess’ for a reason, after all.

But this situation was perfect for you.

In your hand lay that pocket knife. Clean from the soot after today’s mission. And now you knew now where it came from.

Considering that Yoru wanted a new knife for his collection, and this wasn’t something he bought recently, it would make the perfect gift for one reason.

What knife could possibly impress your pedantic boyfriend? That’s right, a knife he himself would have.

The door slid open and Yoru’s familiar footsteps echoed through the quiet space, before it slammed shut. You lifted yourself from the blankets with a smile, hiding the weapon in your sleeves with a cheeky idea in mind.

“Hey. Still up for tea?”

“Tea? Pshh. You’re so lame.”

“You’re out of cocoa powder.”

“I’m out of what?”

He shrugged and sat next to you.

“Phoenix took it, but you didn’t hear it from me. Call me if you guys start fistfighting, though.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled him closer to you, wrapping the blankets around him as well. But you couldn’t help but be annoyed at Phoenix. Though he’s your friend, he stole the last remaining cocoa. 

You’ll cancel his Christmas, for sure.

You grabbed the cup of tea with your free hand so as to not let the weapon accidentally slip out. The herbal scent of the drink filled your nostrils, the heat of it gently warming up your trachea. You never liked tea before you met him, but he somehow made matcha anything taste heavenly.

Then, you straightened your back and stared at his face.

“What?”

“Yo, I think there’s something behind your ear.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“My what?”

“Let me get that for you.”

You brought your hand to his right ear out of his vision. Then, you slowly drew it back, the pocket knife slowly appearing within your hands like magic.

“Woah, babe, what is this?”

You called out with faux shock, unable to keep yourself from grinning. His eyes glimmered with an immense amount of confusion as he watched you dangle the object between your fingers, before smiling and lightly slapping your arm.

“Stop. That’s so cheesy.”

You giggled. It really was.

Yoru took the knife from your hand and observed the handle the same way a critic would. Though his expression remained as vacant as it always was, you could tell he was impressed.

The oni on it was something he’d definitely come up with, so it left him awestruck in every sense of the word.

“Woah. Where’d you buy this?”

“A magician never reveals her secrets, babe.”

He clicked his tongue and met your gaze.

“Cut me some slack, princess. Didn’t I show you my knives before?”

Yoru jokingly pouted, earning a chuckle from you.

He was fairly hush hush about his collection, considering how much his friends liked to ask for his things. Knives, food, hair gel, jackets, that stuff. Not even Raze saw a single knife from it. But so what if he showed you something he’d never ever show to anyone else unless he was six feet under, right? 

Okay, that sounded bad.

You took a sip with a shrug, allowing the fluid to warm up your digestive system. And only within a few seconds, it succeeded ten times more than the blankets ever could. At least you weren’t senselessly sneezing.

As he observed the open knife in his hand, you cuddled up to him, closing your eyes.

“Fine, you big baby. I stole it from your double’s body.”

…

Yeah. From the look on your face, he could tell you weren’t joking whatsoever.

“Weirdo.”

You lightly laughed, taking another sip of your matcha tea.

[thekrazykeke]

Title: Lay Me Down (Gently)

Pairing(s): Rook x Davrin. Solas x Female Lavellan (background).

Rating: T+

Warning(s): Light flirting, overthinking. Diet light voyeur tendencies. City elf Rook, Shadow Dragon Rook. Vague spoilers for Inquisition. Slice of life content, maybe?

So I wrote this flash fic before watching the twenty-minute gameplay trailer today. At the time, I was only getting little spoilers on Tiktok and even then, I avoided it because I wanted to go into the game fresh next month. I made that mistake with BG3 and I didn't wanna do that with this game too. That being said, I have a backstory/headcanon for Rook that will be adapted when it goes live. I just couldn't contain myself over Davrin anymore and had to write something. Davrin's behavior is my hc'd idea of how he'd be romanced. IT IS NOT CANON SO DON'T @ ME.

If you enjoy this, please like, reblog, and comment! ~

The Inquisitor has a white chrysanthemum in her long, black loc’d hair. 

Watching surreptitiously as they are from the window, Felasalin can begrudgingly admit that duo must have made a striking couple back in the day.

Solas with his pale skin, high cheekbones that could cut glass, bald head, full pink lips, grey-blue eyes, while radiating danger and power is definitely the stuff of any human’s sordid fantasy. 

Contrastingly, the Inquisitor, (“Call me Atisha, please,”) is just as good looking, if not more so. According to both Bellara and Davrin, she bore Mythal’s vallaslin, something not many Dalish elves did. The golden marks under her dark brown eyes resembled roots and curved up each cheek like wings, complimenting her deep brown skin. 

If Solas radiated power and danger, Atisha personified quiet strength and an indomitable spirit.

“You’re spying on them again,” Davrin’s low baritone caressed the shell of Rook’s left ear. His strong arms easily wrap around their middle and he dodges her flailing limbs. 

“Easy… easy, Lili,” He teased. “We need to work on your awareness, again, clearly.” The groan this joke earned is expected but no less heartwarming. 

“Don’t call me that,” Nose scrunching up in exaggerated disgust; leaning back against his chest, sinking into him almost, Felasalin huffed out a laugh. “…wasn’t spying,” The words are grumbled and halfhearted. Glancing down, Felasalin realized that their fingers were clutching at Davrin’s forearm and released him belatedly, a word of apology on their tongue but Davrin simply intertwined their fingers together.

A simple but intimate gesture.

Stupidly, the thought that the two of them look good together teased her brain. 

His skin is a deeper shade of brown than hers. Slightly scarred from adventures new and old. His hands were rough and calloused, but comforting. 

“Mmhm, you were definitely spying,” Davrin chuckled, squeezing her around the middle as he spun them away from the window gracefully. Then he let go and took a step back. An action which made Felasalin keenly aware of his distance, small as it is. “Do you want me to guess-?” 

Hands going behind their back to stop the instinct to clutch him close, they rocked backwards on their heels, head tilted to the side. 

“…I just don’t get it,” Davrin hummed, encouraging her to continue. “There are rumors about the Inquisitor and the Dreadwolf but I mean…” Unwillingly, her gaze went back to the older elven woman. Catching sight of Solas’ expression, how such a larger than life figure could manage to look equally devoted and pining while looking at towards another person is…humbling. Confusing.

“I thought it was a lie.”

“…Well, we should probably let them work it out in peace,” Davrin commented, tone both apologetic and teasing again. Gently, he tugged at the sharp point of her ear, finger grazing on down from cheek to neck feather light.

Embarrassingly, a soft moan escaped their lips. Davrin chuckled softly and just moments later felt his lips lightly brush the corner of her mouth. Not quite a full kiss and on autopilot Felasalin chased after him, whining as he pulled back teasingly. “And you can tell me, while you’re in my bed, exactly what label we’ll be using for us…” 

As Davrin crooked his finger, beckoning them forward, Felasalin didn’t hesitate to follow.

[onyxsboxes]

FAQ for the Collaborative Clegan Advent calendar

Following a few questions and a re-reading of my posts on the subject, I thought it would be a good idea to add a few details about the event (it wasn't very clear sorry 😅)

Sign-up post here

What is the collaborative advent calendar?

The project is to create together an advent calendar on Clegan's (and MOTA's) theme. Instead of the usual chocolates, the ‘treats’ will be fics recommendations, short drabbles, moodboards or fan art.

How does it work?

Since we're several people making the calendar, there are only a few ‘treats’ need to be done by each of us. As for the workload, it depends on your preferences/availability. You can do one or as many as you like. (If you can't, don’t worry, you can still enjoy the calendar when it's posted 😊)

On November 29 (or before if you want), I'll collect all the ‘treats’/items to schedule the posting (the posting system isn't set yet).

Starting December 1, the calendar will be posted daily on Tumblr for everyone to enjoy.

What are the ‘treats’?

They are:

Fics recommendations

Short drabbles (a few hundrerd words but it's up to you if you want to do more or less)

Ideas, thoughts and headcanons

Artworks

Moodboards

Song recommendations

GIFs

Photos and pictures

And anything you'd like to share (everything is welcome)

Is there a specific theme?

The idea is to have fun together and share something a little cheerful but there is no official theme (appart being mota related). Use what you want, AU or canon it’s up to you, again no pressure 😁

If you need a bit of inspiration, here a few promts words: Pine tree, Green, Cold, Scarf, Hot drink, Soup, Cloud, Fire, Wrap, Colors, Sleep, Dark, Calendar, Alone, May I help you?, Well, it's a tie…, Sugary sweet, Time's up, Mug, Blue, Holidays, Forest, Travel, Mist, Light, Baking, Candles, Sock, Owl, Key, Radio, Meeting, Overwhelmed, Cinnamon, Card, Drive, Flash, Breakdown, Hiking, Night, Plant, Sand, Stars, Snowflake, Sparkles, Gracious, Hibernation, Celebration, Family, Gift, White, ….

Here's the link if you want to join in, it's the same as the one in the sign-up post. (It's only to get an idea of how many 'treats' we'll have so we know if it's necessary to make a few more).

I hope it's a bit less confusing for everyone 😁😁😁

I will update this post when there will be new info

[highlordofkrypton]

1- Which of your fics would you keep the basic plot of but rewrite completely?

9- Thoughts on cliffhangers.

24- Thoughts on flashbacks/flashforwards.

26- What would you describe as OOC?

I would love to hear all of them!!!!! Especially on the OOC one because I feel like that is one that we all have different interpretations on based on individual interpretation of the character

OMG prepare for RAMBLES (maybe???)

I'm also gonna copy you and link the ask game.

1. Which of your fics would you keep the basic plot of but rewrite completely?

Definitely one of my DC fics. I have quite a few that I started as a weekly writing exercise, but I wish I had more of a structure. I feel like the chapters don't hit as well when I'm writing off ✨vibes✨.

If I had to pick one, it would be my crackship the sun & the sea -- it's based off my roleplay with my partner. I wanted to add the scenes in between that we didn't get to write and bind it for her, but it doesn't make sense without the roleplay parts. I would like to re-write it as a proper fic.

9. Thoughts on cliffhangers.

As a reader, REEEEEEEEE!

As a writer, EHEHHEHEHEHE. I love cliffhangers. I think I do too many cliffhangers? I don't know if they're actual cliff hangers, but if the scene needs to end there, then it will end there.

I view cliff hangers as a writing tool as punctuation and stylistic writing. You're telling your readers to pause here, and you're making them process and take in what they've read. Especially in a world where binging is more and more common, cliffhangers allow specific plot points to sink in. Not that they don't normally, but readers are forced to sit with it now hehhehehe.

24. Thoughts on flashbacks/flashforwards.

I don't like flashfowards because I'm too dumb to understand the time jump and I feel like they're... spoilery? I only really use flash forwards for opening scenes and then we take it all the way back.

As for flashbacks, I prefer to segment them with italics, some kind of formatting break or their own chapters because it's so easy to lose your reader if you haven't executed the flashback well enough. Visual media can rely on cues like younger actors, and setting, but as a writer you need to be detail-oriented enough to write all that out. I am notoriously lazy as fuck so... I don't do them. I don't mind reading them tho.

26. What would you describe as OOC?

I like this question a lot because as someone who lives outside of canon more often than not, I usually write crackships or take characters out of their canon worlds into new ones. For example, my greatest master piece with my writing partner is set in a The Boys x Supernatural universe (so their rules), featuring Geralt (the Witcher), Lambert (the Witcher), Lilith (Diablo 4), Erwin (Attack on Titan), Clark Kent (Superman), Gojo Satoru (JJK), Arisma Kishou (Tokyo Ghoul) and Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars). It was the single most EPIC story I have ever read and written lmao. THAT SAID, I firmly believe that there are base values that every character has that defines them, whether mental, physical or anything else. These are what 'anchor' the character. If it's a original story, then there are events that inform the character. Think big details, not small details.

From a fandom perspective, usually, the fandom will agree on the aforementioned base values. For example, Superman is kind, just and generally wholesome. People can put him in different situations, but you can still recognize the character. This is what differentiates good writing from bad writing; if you can change the character's name, upbringing and current occupation and you still can recognize the character from their inherent values and the way they act, that's totally in character for me.

If you're writing a character and you break the 'base value' rules without justifying it in the narrative, then that's OOC. For example, there are versions of Superman who kills or becomes a world ruler, but there are events that lead up to it so it makes sense.

So to me, pretty much everything is fair game if you can justify it in the writing (and not by telling me, it's gotta be earned).

WHEW THAT WAS A LONG ONE SORRY BUT I LIEKD THAT QUESTION A LOT!!!

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

Hey! I'm looking for some good canon compliant married!klaine fics, and was hoping you had some recs!

Here are some. I've read the first one, which is lovely. The next four have been reviewed previously by Lynne, and i have added them to my "to read" list.

Also, don't forget the Daddies!klaine tag for fun with their children!

Enjoy! ~Jen

Snapshots by @borogroves

August 27, 2044. They say a picture paints a thousand words… and Kurt and Blaine have a whole scrapbook.

~~~~~

I remember when we first met By @tnystrk3000

Inspired by #42 of 101 Ways to Say I Love You by emswritingprompts on Tumblr: "I remember when we first met."

Summary: During their wedding reception, Kurt and Blaine find a moment alone to reflect on where they started and are now. They sit outside, looking at the stars, as they talk about their journey.

Takes place during season 6 episode 8, the only difference is that it’s nighttime.

~~~~~

daydreaming my life away (would you come along with me?) by anderhummel (em_a)

Sometimes Kurt feels like he and Blaine are moving too fast, hurtling headfirst into the unknown where their relationship is bound to end in a fiery crash and broken hearts.

But then Blaine flashes a smile at him, or shoots him an exasperated look behind Rachel's back, or hooks his pinky into Kurt's belt loop as they're walking down the hallway, or—really, sometimes Blaine breathes and Kurt knows, deep in his bones, that he has never been more sure of anything in his life.

* * *

A collection of times throughout Kurt and Blaine's relationship that they discuss their futures.

~~~~~

5 Times: Darling, Just Kiss Me Slow by InsightfulInsomniac

Five types of kisses that Kurt and Blaine share in their domestic moments of early marriage. Wholesome, sweet early married Klaine with a few guest appearances along the way from Burt and Carole.

Aka my five favorite kiss ideas from a kiss prompt list I found a long time ago.

~~~~~

New York Ever After by @gleefulpoppet

Upon their return to New York, Kurt and Blaine create an extraordinary life curated from thousands of ordinary moments noticed, appreciated, and treasured. [AKA The Klaine Glee spinoff we all wanted: date nights, doing the dishes, showers before work, fits of giggles, lazy couch kisses, and more.]

Canon compliant through the entirety of season 6. Each chapter will be self-contained—no cliffhangers or abandoned story issues to worry about.

~~~~~

Honeymoon Holidays by @flowerfan2  

Kurt and Blaine’s first winter holidays together as a married couple fall so quickly after their wedding that sometimes they almost seem like a continuation of their honeymoon.  But not always.  A story in the “Season 7” series that looks at events in the early married life of Kurt and Blaine.

~~~

The Boys of Summerby neverhaveieverbooks

Kurt and Blaine’s first summer in New York after they get married. It’s easy. It’s hard. It’s perfectly imperfect. A summer tale in 12 chapters. Canon-compliant. This story technically takes place within the middle of episode 6 x 13, after Nationals, and before they return to McKinley for their visit in the fall.

Written for the Klaine Summer Challenge 2016 on tumblr.

~~~~~

The Bluebird as She Singsby @lovetheblazer

Eleven months in the journey Kurt and Blaine take to become parents, from Rachel offering to be their surrogate through the birth. Klaine reaction fic for “Dreams Come True” with background St. Berry.

~~~~~

My Wish for Youby Iris Kane

Picking up after the series finale; this story takes place sometime between 2015 and 2020 when Rachel agrees to be Kurt and Blaine surrogate, this is what I think might have happened. (Some rewrites and adjustments to this story; if you’re confused about the direction the story is going please reread)

~~~~~

It’s Bittersweet, Babyby InsightfulInsomniac

When packing up their things to move into their first place as an officially married couple, Blaine finds Kurt’s engagement ring in his former sock drawer, sparking many emotions and memories between the two of them.

But as loving, secure husbands do, they talk it out together.

~~~~~

A year in the Life by @darriness

Formally titled Fic A Day 2018.

I wrote 365 fics (one a day) based on a word that was randomly generated every day.

~~~~~

Wednesday By @spaceorphan18

Just an average day in the life of Kurt Hummel, Blaine Anderson, and their baby Katie.

~~~~~

The Chaperone By pracitcalamenda

When a class mom pulls out at the last minute, Kurt fills in as a chaperone for Blaine's second grade class trip. Turns out that "Mr. Anderson" is quite popular with the moms and Kurt doesn't bother to mention that Blaine's his boyfriend.