#okay so fic writers i would read this so hit me up if that’s something you would write about

[ellecdc]

It's always Grumpy! Regulus who is soft just for reader, but what about about Sunshine!reader who is grumpy just for him 🥺

I broke one of my cardinal rules for this fic; I made the reader *pauses for dramatic affect*.... a Lupin ✊😔 this was such a cute idea though hahaha I love sunshine reader trying so hard to be a grump [also struggling a litttttllllleeeee bit with some writers block so please let me know if anything feels awkward - idk how to feel about my writing right now!]

Regulus Black x Lupin!reader who is the sunshine to his clouds [922 words]

p1 // p2

CW: talking about wringing someone's neck out, siblings

Remus was interrupted from his reading by his boyfriend psst-ing across a few tables in an attempt to garner your attention.

“Hey! Trouble!” He whisper-shouted, causing you to look up with an arched eyebrow, though you still had your ever present smile adorning your face.

“Blink twice if you need help, okay?” Sirius continued, earning him a good natured roll of your eyes.

“I’m fine, Pads; there’s no need to worry.” You responded at regular volume, causing Sirius to look around suspiciously as if he didn’t trust the very few patrons of this section of the library - none of which were paying the three of you any mind - with this information. 

“Listen, I love my brother as much as the next person, but- I mean, really? A Black? Surely you can do better.” Sirius informed you solemnly.

“Sirius…are you saying that my brother can do better, too?”

Sirius nodded quickly, apparently happy that you were finally getting it. “Yes! That’s why I sunk my claws into him early, he can’t escape me now; we basically live together and share all of our friends.”

Remus lowered his book to give his boyfriend a sideways glance, whilst you just continued beaming at him. 

Though he didn’t necessarily approve of the way Sirius was going about his questioning, Remus couldn’t help but sort of agree with Sirius. Not that you could do better, per se, but that the pairing of you - the youngest Lupin - and Regulus - the youngest Black - made absolutely no sense. 

Remus was happy for you, both of you, really! He wasn’t the kind of older brother that was rearing to fight any and all of your potential suitors; he wanted you to be happy, and if it was Regulus Black who made you happy, then he was more than happy for it.

But that didn’t mean he understood it.

Were he and Sirius quite different from one another? Sure. 

Where Sirius was all hard edges and brashness, Remus was careful and exuded gentleness. Where Sirius was black clothes and flashy smiles, Remus was oversized jumpers and quiet remarks. Where Sirius was collected and suave, Remus was awkward and understated.

But for all that was completely opposite between the two of them, they had nearly just as much in common. 

They both loved the same kind of music, they both loved pranking, they both loved a good house party, and they both loved their younger siblings. 

But one would be hard pressed to find any similarity between the two of you. 

Regulus was all quiet stoicism with a moody persona, while you were eager and effervescent. Regulus was snide and, well, kind of rude, while you were generous and compassionate. Regulus was gloomy, while you were all sun.

Remus wasn’t sure you even had a negative bone in your body; you’d been disturbingly sweet growing up (as a big brother, he was always looking for reasons to despise you only to come up empty) and he couldn’t imagine how someone as bitter as Regulus could find his way in your orbit, nor you into his.

Yet with this, Regulus came hustling into the library muttering something under his breath as he let his bag fall to the table with a loud thunk.

Sirius and Remus shared a concerned and slightly uneasy look, while you seemed to sit up impossibly straighter; Remus was certain that if you were a dog that your tail would be wagging. 

“He is such a git.” Regulus hissed as his arse finally hit the seat, and your mouth opened comically as you leaned over the table as if vying for a secret.

“Who!?” You asked earnestly, your warm eyes searching Regulus’ cool ones for any clues. 

“Sodding McLaggen! Thinks he’s Merlin’s gift to the entire wizarding world or something.”

“Bastard.” You muttered in camaraderie, and both Remus and Sirius reared their heads back at the use of such language coming from their kind and sweet little sister (and sister-in-law, as Sirius already calls you).

“I could’ve wrung his neck out, I swear.” Regulus continued as he pulled his books out of his bag and you quickly made room on your table for him to spread his homework out too. 

“What was stopping you?” You asked him, and Remus and Sirius both looked at each other with furrowed brows as if saying “are you hearing this!?” 

“I didn’t think you’d be particularly happy should I miss our study date in order to attend detention with the likes of Potter.” He muttered, ensuring the sneer James’ surname as if it were a dirty word.

Your eyes flit over to Remus and Sirius and they could see the laughter in them as you tried to keep your lips in their dutiful downturned-ness. 

“Well, it would have been a noble reason I suppose.” 

Regulus made a sound somewhere between a hum of acknowledgement and a groan as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Don’t worry, Reg; I’m sure McLaggen will be a wanker again tomorrow. You can wring his neck out then.” You assured him whilst looking down at your book, but as you lifted your hand to turn a page, Regulus’ hand quickly enveloped yours and brought it to his lips. 

“Je t’aime, mon étoile.” He murmured into your knuckles, and your grumpy persona was gone so quickly that Remus wondered if it was ever there to begin with, and you were left instead with a (far more natural) beaming smile. 

Sirius made a theatrical gagging sound, but Remus couldn’t help but smile; perhaps the two of you made more sense than he thought.

[kissoflightning]

Master-List of Active Detroit: Become Human Writers On Tumblr

(Updated November 22, 2024)

[Update includes the addition of some new names & AO3 but unfortunately the hyperlink is capped, so I still dropped their pseuds and regular links in the list!]

[Colors to indicate my reader checklist have been scrapped; Tumblr tag colors do not show up on mobile, so I have highlighted the AO3 names with the applicable colors.]

New to writing fiction for the fandom, or your name isn't on the list? Comment/Reblog and I will add your name to this post! Note that I am adding writers with fics already up on AO3/Wattpad only, but I will continue to add more as we grow!

Apologies for mass tagging people, but I wanted there to be a list of active DBH Fanfiction writers to make it easier to find each other on here! LINKS TO fanfic source and Tumblr are included!

I also would like readers to take note that EVERY WRITER that I post here will appreciate positive comments on their fic! Even if it's just a heart, emoji, "I enjoyed it", or "Second Kudos", it will MAKE THEIR DAY! Please comment on fics that you enjoyed no matter hold old they are!

Also stats such as Hits, Kudos, or the fact that I have read the fic is in no way a reflection of the quality of the fic! I will put the writers in alphabetical order based on their Tumblr name for organizational purposes!

Also if you wish to be taken off this list, just shoot me a DM and I will do so. It is so awesome that there are not only so many active DBH writers but also - if you made it to this list, that means you haven't blocked me yet, so Kudos to you for that! :D

[Update pending: Will add relationship/family/character tags in a future update on December 5th, 2024. (You can also feel free to comment your fave ship to write about in the replies) Sorry this is just a list of names with any distinguishing of category, but this already took so long, you will just have to try your luck! Please notify if one of or more of the links is wrong/broken; Tumblr has a limit on hyperlinks unfortunately, so for some I had to just drop their pseuds.

Color coding:

Recent - Updated within the past 3 months

Active - Writing for the Fandom (Updated within the last 13 months)

Hiatus - Updated over 13 months ago/Leaving Fandom

??? - 2+ Years Since Last Update/ No Longer Writing for the Fandom, but still replies to comments!!!

[Sometimes I'll mix colors 'cause they wrote recently but are leaving the fandom or something]

[Example of my color system would be:

@kissoflightning because this writer has posted a DBH fic in November, 2024]

Okay, brace yourself for a LONG LIST below the cut!

# - C

Tumblr: @8-rae-rae-8

AO3: emogoose

Tumblr: @a-feral-coffee-enthusiast AO3: Unfortunately_sentient

Tumblr: @aghostinmyownmachine @scribeofred @thewritinggrindstone

AO3: scribeOfRED

Tumblr: @alecthewreck AO3: AlecTheWreck

Tumblr: @andthekitchensinkao3 AO3: andthekitchensink

Tumblr: @angelgirl768 AO3: angelgirl768

Tumblr: @anonymousedward AO3: anonymousEDward

Tumblr: @autiacorart AO3: Autiacora

Tumblr: @archadianskies

AO3: Archaidian_Skies

Tumblr: @astrahannah AO3: AstraHannah

Tumblr: @average-mako-enjoyer

AO3: AverageMakoEnjoyer

Tumblr: @aydaptic AO3: Aydaptic (Fic & Webcomic)

Tumblr: @brokskar AO3: brokskar

Tumblr: @calamity-jc AO3: Calamity_JC

Tumblr: @chaos-thirium AO3: chaos_thirium

Tumblr: @connor-rk800 AO3: thespacebetweenstars

Tumblr: @connor-sent-by-cyberlife @timebird84

AO3: Connor sent by Cyberlife (Timebird84)

Tumblr: @connorboyyy AO3: hereforthegayy

Tumblr: @connorsjorts AO3: connorsjorts

Tumblr: @cptjh-arts (Fic Art) AO3: cptJH

Tumblr: @cryptidblossomd AO3: C0nt0l_cha0s

Tumblr: @changethecircumstances AO3: ChangeTheCircumstances

D-K

Tumblr: @detroitbecomeonline

AO3: TrinityOnline

Tumblr: @discodeviant AO3: DiscoDeviant

Tumblr: @einradi AO3: Einradi

Tumblr: @illegalvampire Wattpad: vampyrl0ser AO3: vampyrl0ser (TBD)

Tumblr: @incomprehensible-phasmid AO3: IncomprehensiblePhasmid

Tumblr: @insignova AO3: Insignova

Tumblr: @fadedflame

AO3: FadedFlame

Tumblr: @fizzlefudge AO3: FizzleFudge

Tumblr: @fumikosushi AO3: FumikoSushi

Tumblr: @gauzyfruitcake AO3: beeayy

Tumblr: @gavinisqueer @listeningboy AO3: ListeningBoy

Tumblr: @gildedfrost-ao3 AO3: GildedFrost

Tumblr: @glxyqst AO3: GLXYQST

Tumblr: @hauntedoneao3 AO3: HauntedOne

Tumblr: @headfulloffantasy

AO3: HeadFullOfFantasy

Tumblr: @hemlockdumpling AO3: Hemlock_Dumpling

Tumblr: @hothotpot

AO3: hothotpot (https://archiveofourown.org/users/hothotpot/pseuds/hothotpot/works?fandom_id=23172234)

Tumblr: @katlakitty AO3: katlakitty

Tumblr: @kamari2038 AO3: kamari2038

Tumblr: @karasgotagun @jazzmckay AO3: karasgotagun (jazzmckay)

Tumblr: @kissoflightning AO3: KissOfLightning

Tumblr: @konami-code-ao3 @alcatrazoutpatient AO3: AlcatrazOutpatient

L-N

Tumblr: @l1av AO3: L1av

Tumblr: @ladydrace

AO3: LadyDrace

Tumblr: @leelany-world AO3: Leelany

Tumblr: @lethotep

AO3: Lethotep

Tumblr: @lilaccadenza AO3: LilacCadenza

Tumblr: @littlehaize AO3: haize

Tumblr: @litoperezito (Webcomic) AO3: LitoPerezito

Tumblr: @lugiadepression

AO3: LugiaDepression

Tumblr: @mangabirdao3 AO3: Manga_bird Wattpad: Manga_bird

Tumblr: @mercilessflowchart AO3: Mercilessflowchart

Tumblr: @moonlitmilo AO3: MoonlitMilo

Tumblr: @mnictasbcl

AO3: mnictasbcl

Tumblr: @my-name-is-markus-with-a-k @unlisshed AO3: Unlisshed

Tumblr: @nartes

AO3: nartes

Tumblr: @negative-citadel AO3: Negative_Citadel

Tumblr: @nock-and-bolt

AO3: Nock_and_Bolt

Tumblr: @nothinggathers AO3: AtropaAzraelle (Polyoxyethylene)

O- S

Tumblr: @peachymilkshakes

AO3: peachienne

Tumblr: @peskellence AO3: peskellence

Tumblr: @r-ate-9

AO3: Kangarooney

Tumblr: @qrjung AO3 : qrjung

Tumblr: @ranunculus-bloom

AO3: Queerapika

Tumblr: @pseudonymmcwriter AO3: PseudonymMcWriter

Tumblr: @rking200

AO3: rking200 (Mawific)

Tumblr: @rk800-is-hot-change-my-mind @spensual AO3: Spensual

Tumblr: @sevdrag

AO3: sevdrag (seventhe)

Tumblr: @shinyportalsandthings AO3: FancyPantsu

Tumblr: @simping-for-kamski AO3: TranscientNight

Tumblr: @sunwarmed-ash AO3: sunwarmed_ash

Tumblr: @sweeteatercat AO3: SweetEaterCat

Tumblr: @systemic-dreams AO3: systemic_dreams

T-Z

Tumblr: @temporary-enthusiasm AO3: TemporaryEnthusiasm

Tumblr: @the-ineffable-wanderer

AO3: KetchupOnToast

Tumblr: @thenookienostradamus AO3: nookienostradamus (https://archiveofourown.org/users/nookienostradamus/pseuds/nookienostradamus/works?fandom_id=23172234)

Tumblr: @titaniumpsychologist

AO3: TitaniumPsychologist (https://archiveofourown.org/users/TitaniumPsychologist )

Tumblr: @veilder AO3: Veilder

Tumblr: @wamblings AO3: ambling

Tumblr: @wyntereyez @wynterscribbles @wyntergamez AO3: wyntereyez

Tumblr: @yayen-chan AO3: yayenchan

Tumblr (Inactive) : @zeliannetascho (Will actively discuss HCs with you in the breakroomDMs Discord server) AO3: ZeliaTascho

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 42!

another lovely reading week! i really need to sort through my marked for later list though, it just keeps growing... a task for next week, perhaps?

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! note that unlike in previous weeks, this list contains some fics that are set during season 8, so be careful if you don't want spoilers!

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

drench yourself in words unspoken | foxwatson/@eddiediazes | 26.2k | T

the one where everything in canon is the same, except eddie diaz is secretly a bestselling romance author, and nobody knows. Yet. romance writer eddie is brilliant, the vision!! and this is so well-written <3

lazy sunday (lay with me) | thelikesofus/@thelikesofus | 1.3k | G

Buck wakes up to sleepy morning couch cuddles with his second favorite Diaz boy AKA Eddie is clingy in the morning. clingy eddie is so special to me <3 this captures that soft moning atmosphere perfectly!

line | the_one_that_fell/@buckvalentina | 4.4k | E

Eddie and Buck cross a line in an El Paso motel. okay but this fic. THIS FIC. they absolutely would do the in person phone sex no touching thing. it's so them i'm obsessed

please, i've been on my knees | playinginthunderstorms/@playinginthunderstorms | 11.6k | E

Buck discovers he has a kink. this is the most recent addition to the list, i only read it this morning! and wow what a way to wake up... a good day to be me. it's sweet and funny and hot and i loved research!buck <3

pumpkin spice and everything nice | PretentiousSwanQueen/@hotcinnamonsunset | 4k | M

Buck tries to get Eddie to accept one pumpkin spiced flavored something in his life and eventually finds success (in love and edibles). no but this fic is so right buck would love pumpkin spice and eddie wouldn't!! such a fun read!

songs and poems and promises | lesbianrobin/@lesbianrobin | 4.9k | E

“Stubble’s kinda crazy,” Buck says, “And it actually kinda drives me crazy. I didn’t think I’d be into that, you know? But it’s cool. Like, he’s a man, you know?” [...] “It’s just like, you know, even though it doesn’t feel as good, there are still all these new things that I didn’t expect I’d like so much.” in just a few lines this captures the firefam dynamics so well!! and the buddie is also brilliant of course. i had a great time with this one <3

stop waking me up in the middle of the night | reincrimination/@reincrimination | 2.3k | G

“Do you not like sleeping with me, Diaz?” Buck hazards, taking a swig of his nearly-empty bottle. [...] “If you would stop waking me up in the middle of the night, I might like it more,” Eddie sighs, half-genuine in his annoyance. “Buck kicks like a racehorse.” pandemic era buddie bed sharing fics hit so hard <3 this is lovely!!

sweetheart (you look a little tired) | EiraLloyd | 14.6k | T

five times Buck tried to cheer up Eddie with baked goods, and one time Eddie tried to cheer up Buck with baked goods. i love baking and i love buddie so basically this is perfect for me <3 had a lovely time reading through this earlier this week!!

the kiss that lingers | greenbergsays/@greenbergsays | 10.7k | E

5 times Eddie kisses Buck's birthmark & 1 time he doesn't. birthmark kisses my absolute beloved <3 soft and sweet and so them!!

too often the power of touch is underestimated | xjustlikeyou/@xjustlikeyou | 15.3k | T

Five times a touch knocked Eddie off his feet, and the one time he got to return the favor. buddie and eddiekaren bestieism what else could i possibly want <3 so good!!

the sincerest form of flattery | canadadry | 1.7k | NR

in which Brad Torrence only almost passes out, and observes the aftermath. brad torrence is the gift that keeps on giving <3 i loved his inner dialogue here!!

touching me, touching you | rainbow_nerds/@rainbow-nerdss | 7.1k | E

Buck and Eddie wake up one morning able to feel each other's touch. They make the most of it. i love the premise of this fic so so much, it's so cool?? and executed so well <3

what's your love language? | songbvrd/@songbvrd | 18.3k | E

After finding out that Eddie doesn't know what his love language is, Buck sets about finding out for him. He begins a five week experiment, one for each love language, to figure out which will make Eddie feel the most loved. this fic makes me go !!!! inside. i love the way buck goes all out to make eddie feel loved while also thinking it's the most normal thing in the world. and that ending!

you bring me comfort | thewolvesof1998/@thewolvesof1998 | 4.2k | T

Eddie is touched starved and just needs a hug instead, instead he has his sweater. i've read this so many times by now, it's an absolute favourite!! i'm a big fan of giving eddie comfort in whatever way he wants or needs <3

[kittenshift-17]

Omg I feel like any teen wolf fic (sterek fic) you write would be amazing, on that topic ur an amazing writer and I’m glad that one day I stumbled upon one of your fics. And also speaking of sterek fics (or any teen wolf fic) do u have and recommendations on what to read for that fandom???

Okay, so I took my time with this one because I had read some, but not a lot... but oh boy, did I deep dive into the research to bring you some top tier Sterek Fic Recs.

TOP 20 STEREK RECS

Play It Again by metisket ***I LOVED THIS ONE***

In which Stiles goes along with one of Derek’s plans and ends up in an alternate universe as a result. He should’ve known better. He did know better, actually, and that means he has no one to blame but himself.

“Laura wants to lure the kid in with food and kindness and make a pet of him, like a feral cat. Derek wants to have him arrested for stalking. They’re at an impasse. (And the rest of the family is staying emphatically out of it in a way that suggests bets have been placed.)”

So Shed Your Skin and Lets Get Started by halfhardtorock

He's sixteen and in the woods on the wrong side of the town-line and he's so fucking fucked.

He knows he's not supposed to run, they teach that to you in preschool (don't run from a Were, back away slowly and walk with care), but they never told you how it would feel, standing alone in the dark with your heart beating in your throat as those glowing eyes tracked you from the shadows.

Don't Feed the Wolves by Amazonia_8

Stiles took the dare, because what else was he supposed to do when the whole lacrosse team was chanting his name? Even though the werewolf pack had left Beacon Hills years ago, nobody was stupid enough to set foot on the Hale property.

Except, apparently, Stiles.

Now he's got a feral werewolf following him around town with the sole purpose of claiming Stiles as his own.

so now you've got the best of me (come on and take the rest of me) by mangotangos

"It doesn't matter how hot Derek is, how Stiles barely comes up to his shoulders or how Derek's hands could probably fit really snugly around his waist. None of it matters, because he's basically a glorified babysitter for the foreseeable future and Stiles wants him out. Operation annoy Deputy Derek Hale into leaving begins now."

~or, the one where Stiles' dad hires Deputy Derek to be Stiles' bodyguard, Stiles hates him on principle and then 2 seconds later falls in lust (and love) and tries to seduce him into bed with his sexual prowess.

There Are No Wolves In California by kitsunequeen

Hunter!Stiles accidentally hits a wolf with his car and can't bear to leave him in the road to die. It's not till he gets the wolf home that he sees its eyes glow red... ------- Even everyday roadkill is upsetting, but this thing… Moments ago it was probably a majestic beast, and now it’s a mangled pile of soon-to-be rotting flesh. He presses a shaking hand to the only part of its chest left intact, not even thinking about whether it'll give him rabies or some other awful disease.

He’s about to pull back when something even crazier happens.

He realizes the wolf is breathing.

(not so) Pure Imagination by theroguesgambit

"There is a world where whenever someone fantasizes about you, you can physically feel it, but you have no idea who is thinking it about you."

Stiles knows it's wrong, but he's been Fantasizing about Derek and he can't bring himself to stop. Derek doesn't know who's taken an interest in him, but he's enjoying it way more than he probably should.

Little Wild Animal by DiscontentedWinter

Derek Hale finds a feral human on his pack's property. Humans are supposed to be extinct. But then, Stiles is full of surprises.

The Darkness Inside by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

The sheriff watched him for a moment, then he sighed and turned slightly. He reached out to open a cabinet door beside him, and pulled out a shelf. It was on a track, so it rolled out of the cabinet fairly easily, and held a small CCTV. Derek frowned and inched his chair to the side a little bit so he could get a better angle.

He was looking at a teenager, or someone at least young enough to be the same age as Scott. He was sitting on a bed in what looked to be a larger room, the area he was in surrounded by four glass walls, with his legs crossed and head tilted.

He was also staring directly into the camera, as if he knew someone was watching. A creepy smile slowly slid onto the teen’s face, and he held up one hand, wiggling his fingers in a slow, eery wave.

Derek felt his mouth run dry. He didn’t know who this kid was, but he didn’t like him.

“Who is that?” he asked quietly.

“That,” said the sheriff, “is my son.”

What I Did On My Summer Vacation by grimm for missingsun

There's something weird about Beacon Hills that Stiles can't quite put his finger on. The way everyone in town knows his name the day he arrives. The way they insist the melancholic howling that echoes through the forest every night is just a dog. The way his dad denies getting a dog, even though Stiles comes home to find one sprawled across his bed, some big black thing whose eyes gleam red in the right light. The way that massive oak tree out in the woods vibrates under his touch, pulsing with sickly life.

There's something weird going on in this town, and Stiles is determined to get to the bottom of it.

Patterns of Intention by drunktuesdays

Derek looked like the stuff of his deepest fantasies. His shirt was rumpled where Stiles had his hands in it, and he was breathing hard as well, chest heaving. His eyes—his eyes were glazed over and he looked stunned, like he’d been—like Stiles had—

“No,” Stiles said, blood draining from his face. The word was croaky and felt like it had to be wrenched out of his chest. “God, no.”

Wants & Needs by MadcapRomantic

Derek Hale has been participating in the Beacon Hills Mating Run for a decade, each year coming up without a mate. His mother, convinced this is his lucky year, persuades him to run one last time.

Enter Stiles, a young Omega with an unwanted Alpha nipping at his heels.

Family or not, Peter is determined to have Stiles.

But convinced they are True Mates, there isn't anything Derek won't do to keep Stiles safe.

I don't know why, but I guess it has something to do with you by LunaCanisLupus_22 for xXxClassifiedxXx 

“You smell like me,” the guy says, scowling as he crowds in and Stiles staggers back between the coats and finally hits the wall. “Why do you smell like me?”

He barely lets out a garbled sound as the blood rushes to his cheeks. “No reason,” Stiles yelps, struggling to get his footing and grasping at a whirlwind of puffy fur.

Or the one where Stiles goes thrift shopping and steals an alpha's shirt. And gets a lot more than he bargains for.

Sleeping Dogs by starsystems

Let sleeping dogs lie. Prov. Do not instigate trouble.;Leave something alone if it might cause trouble.

Derek Hale is asleep in Stiles's bed. And it just escalates from there.

Because of course it does.

We've Written Volumes (in Blood and Scars and Ink) by notthequiettype

Stiles is on his back on hard-packed dirt. He's cold and there are leaves stuck to his neck and there's a four inch gash in his side that he thinks he can feel his ribs through. There's so much blood around him he feels like he's floating on a pond and everything is so much dimmer above him than it was a minute ago, which is saying something because he's in the dark center of the forest in the middle of the night. And the worst of it is that he's alone, totally alone with the smell of his own blood drowning him and the soft side of him run through by a tree.

As his eyes slip shut, the last thing he thinks is, "This is going to kill my dad."

In Case You Didn't Know by Blu_Crowe

Stiles moves into the lofts, and he and Derek start to get closer. Unfortunately Stiles is a moron, and Derek is bad at feelings. They figure it out... Eventually.

Stilinski's Home for Wayward Wolves by owlpostagain

“At least your puppies knock first,” Stiles snorts. “Here I thought their alpha raised them to be well-mannered.” 



“There’s a sign,” Derek responds stiffly. 



Stiles, whose curiosity outweighs even his hardest of grudges, abandons his chilly façade of nonchalance in a heartbeat. He jumps right up and all but pushes Derek out of the way in his effort to get to the window, and sure enough when he leans outside there’s a laminated strip of cardstock duct taped to the vinyl siding: 



DON’T FORGET TO KNOCK Stiles gets cranky when we scare him

---

Or, in which Stiles Stilinski moves to Beacon Hills for his junior year of high school and accidentally adopts a pack of teenage werewolves.

Lock All The Doors Behind You by entanglednow

He has no idea what you're supposed to say when you find one of your...werewolf acquaintances, completely out of their mind, growling like they're about to see what your insides taste like. There's no handbook for this. Stiles is thinking that if he survives he might write one.

Feral Formalities by Aleandri

"There was silence as no one seemed to breath at the table.

Derek had just gifted Stiles, an unmated Omega, with food.

Right in front of another Alpha.

Who he was on a date with.

To discuss being heat partners...."

*In which, Stiles presents as Omega, and everyone wants a piece of the alpha-baby-making ass!*

for a good time, call... by EvanesDust for kalika_999

Stiles unlocks his phone to send out a quick text asking his father what he wants to eat, even though he’ll get salad regardless, and notices a strange number on his recent call log.

His face scrunches in confusion before realization dawns on him.

Oh shit.

Events from the night before peek through the hazy fog of his mind. Stiles thought, or he was hoping, that the phone call was a dream. But there it is, staring at him in the face—a one minute and 57-second call to an unfamiliar number.

Oh God.

Did he seriously call someone—possibly an alpha werewolf!—for phone sex?

...Or the one where Stiles drunk dials a very grumpy alpha werewolf and propositions him for phone sex. Hilarity, misunderstandings, and feelings ensue.

Golden Boy by trilliath 

Apparently it still amuses his uncle to buy sex slaves for him, no matter how steadfastly he refuses to use them. Derek ducks into his tent with a resigned sigh, prepared to dress and reassign whatever new beauty Peter has bought him. They do make for loyal servants, so he can't really complain about Peter's 'gifts'. But it is annoying to deal with, to have to spend his evening sorting out a slave instead of being able to go right to bed. It's just something he has to learn to accept as a byproduct of serving alongside his uncle.

But when he lays eyes on the boy laying amid his furs, he finds his breath catching in his throat. His skin is golden with the candle-light glimmering against the sheen of oil that has been slathered on his bared body. His lips are parted, and they work over inaudible words or sounds. His skin is flushed, nipples peaked and pierced with simple but unexpected golden rings. He's spectacularly beautiful in the candlelight. The many glowing candles that have been added to his usual lighting cast glittering edges and shadows, imbuing an almost unearthly golden color to his skin.

It's enough that Derek hesitates.

[mrs-dr-reid]

Scary Dog Privilege

(A Wolverine Fic)

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader

Summary: The reader practically begs Logan to be her fake boyfriend at a gala, but ends up getting more than she bargained for

Genre: Fluffy throughout, a teensy bit angsty near the end, and a dash of "oh my god, just KISS ALREADY!!!" sprinkled in pretty much everywhere

Warnings: Swearing, suggestive language, fake boyfriend trope, friends to lovers, oblivious idiots in love, more than platonic touches, tw food/alcohol, crying, protective!Logan, the image of Logan in a tux (yes, that's a warning), Tony Stark being... himself, a Hugh Jackman-sized Wolverine and an average/small reader (size difference, yaaaaay)

A/N: Big thanks to @snixkers for being my designated Wolvie Beta Reader, as well as a handful of buddies in my writers discord for helping me turn the head words into page words (you know who you are).

Word Count: 4419

———————————————————————

This is going to be a disaster, Y/N thought as she stared hopelessly at the event notification on her phone: Superhero Gala tonight!!!

It was her least favorite day of the year, even though on paper it was a good thing. All of the Avengers and all the X-Men getting together and hosting a gala fundraiser to raise money for a different cause every year, as well as “celebrate the spirit of collaboration among heroes” or whatever preachy bullshit Charles is always on about.

She just knew that she’d inevitably be stuck getting hit on by drunken aristocratic strangers in a dress she didn’t want to be wearing, just like every other year. She’d much rather be honing her abilities or reading a book, but attendance was mandatory for every adult living at the mansion, much to her chagrin.

Y/N paced the length of her bedroom, worrying about her certain doom, when she got an idea. It wasn’t a very good idea, but it was better than no idea at all. She stuffed her phone in her back pocket, then ventured down to the kitchen where she was hoping she’d find who she was looking for, and she was right.

Logan was sitting at the island munching on a piece of toast and nursing a flask of what she assumed was whiskey, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it. She said, “Howlett, I need to talk to you in private.”

Logan looked up from his breakfast and said, “Good morning to you too, L/N,” mostly unbothered by her request.

Y/N rolled her eyes and said, “NOW, please.”

He raised a hand in surrender and said, “Alright, Bossy Pants,” before following her into the other room away from the prying ears of Jean, Scott, and Ororo.

Once they were out of earshot, Y/N said, “Okay, I’m gonna ask you to do something kinda weird, but I promise if you do it, I’ll never ask you for anything else ever again.”

Logan raised a questioning eyebrow at her. “Okay?”

She took a deep breath. “I need you to be my scary dog privilege tonight at the gala.”

The request hung in the air between them as Logan tried to process what the hell she just said to him. “You need me to be your what?”

Y/N sighed exasperatedly, then elaborated. “I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend so the sleazy rich assholes leave me alone!” before steepling her hands and giving him her best puppy dog pout.

Logan wasn’t swayed, and he crossed his arms. “Why me? Couldn’t you ask McCoy?” Y/N glared at him, annoyed that he was being so difficult.

“Yes, I could ask Hank, but Hank is a teddy bear! You’re tall, you’re intimidating, it’s somewhat believable that we’d be together, and you have claws. And if you don’t do this, I promise you that if even one slimeball approaches me, I will use the ‘what not to do’ section of the Geneva Convention as a to-do list! So will you be my fake boyfriend or not?!”

Both of Logan’s eyebrows went up at this, and he said, “As entertainin’ as that would be, Chuck would probably ground you for committin’ war crimes against a civilian,” before starting to walk back to the kitchen.

In a panic, Y/N blabbed, “I’ll smuggle in cigars and booze for you for a month!” which stopped him in his tracks. Gotcha, Wolvie.

He turned back around, let out a groan in the back of his throat at the hopeful smile on Y/N’s face, then said, “Fine. But just this once,” before sticking out a hand to shake. She grinned, then shook his hand, trying her best to not think about how his hand completely engulfed hers or how warm and rough it was.

That evening, Logan was waiting at the bottom of the stairs alongside Scott for Jean and Y/N to come down, both men in sharp black tuxedos.

Scott said, “So, you’re L/N’s date tonight, huh?” with a shit-eating grin on his face, so Logan rolled his eyes, tugging at the collar of his dress shirt slightly. “She made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Literally. If I refused, she was gonna kill the first stranger who told her she was pretty.”

Scott chuckled. “Yeah, sounds about right.” Then he fell silent, so Logan followed his gaze and tried to ignore the weird tug in the pit of his stomach when he saw Y/N trailing behind Jean. She looked like a completely different person than the woman he bantered with every day.

Her hair fell in a halo of perfect waves around her shoulders, her makeup was done to perfection, diamond studs decorated her ears, and her dress… oh, that dress.

While its rhinestone-encrusted fabric covered every inch of her body except her collarbone and her hands, it hugged every curve like it was made especially for her (and it probably was). The slight padding of the shoulders and the emerald green hue made her look almost ethereal, and the matching shoes he could see peeking out from under the hem with every step she took added to the effect, though he wasn’t sure why.

Y/N stopped in front of him. “Well, you clean up nice, Howlett,” and adjusted his tie (which just so happened to match her dress). That snapped him out of his reverie before he cleared his throat. “You too, L/N. Shall we?”

He offered her his arm, and she took it. “Let’s get this over with,” before letting him lead her into the ballroom.

After he had initially agreed to this admittedly crazy scheme, Logan and Y/N had gone over different forms of PDA that they were each comfortable with. Y/N had told Logan that he could do whatever he needed to do to sell it, whereas he was more hesitant to give her carte blanche, only allowing lingering arm and shoulder touches or a kiss on the cheek if the situation desperately called for it.

Logan instantly clocked the bar the second they stepped foot inside, and before he could say anything, Y/N quipped, “I need to be drunk half an hour ago, let’s move,” and started pulling him towards the bar, causing him to let out a snort as he allowed her to drag him along.

He ordered a whiskey on the rocks while she stuck with a vodka soda, and after they were given their drinks, Logan said, “Say what you want about Stark. At least he has the decency to spring for an open bar, and it’s the good shit,” while swirling the liquid in his glass.

Y/N snickered and said, “I’ll drink to that.” She held her glass up for cheers, and Logan clinked his glass against hers, then downed about half of his whiskey in one swig.

Y/N had to blink to rid the image of his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed from her mind, then she downed her drink as well. “Well, we better go find Charles and the others.”

He nodded in agreement, then put a hand at the small of her back as they ventured into the center of the room. Y/N spotted Charles amongst a circle of Avengers and X-Men including Captain America, Black Widow, and Iron Man as well as Hank, Scott, Jean, and Rogue. The two of them approached the circle, and Y/N said, “Partying hard or hardly partying?”

Charles looked away from the tall, blond man Y/N recognized from last year as Steve Rogers at the sound of her voice, then said, “Ah! There you two are! Logan, Y/N, I’m sure you remember Captain Rogers, Miss Romanoff, and Mr. Stark from last year’s benefit,” and gestured between them.

Y/N smiled and said, “Of course. It’s great to see you again,” while shaking each of their hands, earning a “Likewise” from Steve, a nod from Natasha, and a smirk from Tony. He was surely about to say something lewd, but Logan stuck his hand out to shake just in time. “Mighty nice of ya to foot the bill on some decent booze, Stark,” his arm snaking protectively around Y/N’s waist.

If Charles and the other X-Men didn’t clock it, which was highly unlikely, they thankfully said nothing about it, but Tony recovered quickly enough that it wasn’t necessary anyway. He shook Logan’s hand and said, “Of course. Only the best for the best, amiright?” before shooting a wink in Y/N’s direction.

Logan bristled slightly, so Y/N took that as an opportunity to place a hand on his chest and say, “Lo, I believe I was promised a dance?” raising her eyebrows pointedly at him.

He said, “Right, yeah, absolutely, Doll Face. Nice seeing you again, but duty calls. Boyfriend duty, that is,” nodded at Steve and Natasha, then shot an almost gloating wink in Tony’s direction before giving Y/N his arm and whisking her off to the dance floor.

As they left, Y/N swore she heard Scott whisper incredulously, “‘Boyfriend’’?!” and Jean smack him in the chest, which made her stomach flip slightly at the thought that only Scott questioned the arrangement.

As they reached the dance floor, Y/N took note of the string quartet a few paces from the floor. “Open bar, and live entertainment? That Stark sure knows how to throw a party.”

Logan rolled his eyes and huffed, “If he took hints as good as he threw parties, then we’d be in business,” before he remembered that he wasn’t actually Y/N’s boyfriend, and there was no reason for him to be that pissed. So why was he?

Y/N said, “He’s the outlier in this situation. I’ve clocked at least eight different guys that have made to come talk to me, but immediately backtracked once they noticed you standing right next to me. I should bribe you to be my scary dog privilege more often!”

He just scoffed. “Yeah, yeah, don’t hold your breath,” but there was still a hint of a smile on his face as they joined the other couples waiting for the next song.

The musicians took up their instruments and began playing again, so Logan extended a hand to Y/N and said, “May I have this dance?” while raising a teasing eyebrow at her. She smiled, then took it and replied, “You may.”

He grinned before spinning her into his arms, a peal of laughter escaping her as she collided with his solid chest in a very ungraceful manner.

She giggled, “Logan!” He shrugged and said, “Gotta keep you on your toes somehow, don’t I?” neither of them acknowledging that she used his first name.

They kept dancing, Logan periodically making comments about the people around them just to hear her melodic laughter, and to any outsider, they looked just like any other couple; young (or seemingly young in Logan’s case) and in love, even though that wasn’t the case.

When the song ended, Y/N let out a breathless sigh and said, “I’m gonna go get a drink. Do you want anything?”

Logan held up a hand and said, “Nah, I’ve got all night to drink Stark outta house and home. Thank you, though.” Y/N nodded with a smile, then went to head for the bar, but Logan stopped her with a hand on her waist.

He said, “Hang on a sec, Doll,” then held her chin in place with his first two fingers and brushed some rogue strands of hair away from her face before murmuring, “There we go. Perfect.”

Y/N fought to keep a blush from staining her cheeks as she thanked him, then she scampered away to the bar after telling him she’d be back soon, hoping to god he didn’t notice the spike in her heart rate.

She reached the bar and ordered another vodka soda, somewhat breathlessly. As she waited, she ended up overanalyzing all that had transpired thus far, and she couldn’t make sense of any of it. Logan’s protectiveness around someone he knew wasn’t a threat? Going out of his way to play the Boyfriend Card in front of their teammates and collaborators? The pet names? The way he’s been looking at her since they stepped foot inside the ballroom?

As she was going through all of this, an unfamiliar man sidled up next to her at the bar and tried to strike up a conversation, much to Y/N’s dismay.

“Hey there, I’m Jeffrey. Did they give you a name to go with that pretty face?” and she just barely contained a gag/cringe combo before telling him her name. He smiled a bit too wide to be genuine, then said, “Can I order you a drink?” so she said, “I already ordered. And I promised my boyfriend I’d come find him as soon as I got it, so…,” and craned her neck to search for the bartender.

Jeffrey scoffed.“Some boyfriend he is, letting a lady like you wander off by herself.” That made Y/N inhale sharply. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and he’s well aware of that,” she said curtly, silently daring him to say one more stupid thing so she could knock him into next month.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak again, his voice faltered and his eyes trailed up to someone much taller than her. She didn’t have the chance to turn around before the familiar scent of pine, whiskey, and tobacco filled her nostrils and a pair of lips pressed a kiss to her jaw.

Logan husked out right next to her ear, “Hey, Baby. Thought you were gonna come find me once you got your drink. Dinner’s about to start.” One of his hands slid around to rest against her stomach protectively, so she placed a hand on his arm and said, “I was! It just got busy, I guess. We had the home-front advantage earlier,” trying to pretend like she wasn’t silently losing her mind over what he’d just done and praying to whatever deity existed that he couldn’t smell her body’s reaction to what had just occurred.

She turned her head to look at him, and he smiled at her before nodding his head in Jeffrey’s direction and saying, “Who’s this punk?”

She shot a quick glare at the man in question, then looked back up at Logan. “Just someone who is very lucky you showed up when you did,” she said with a smile before going up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

The bartender arrived with her drink not a moment too soon, and as she grabbed it, said, “It was nice to meet you, Jeffrey,” and then let Logan lead her back to their designated table, choosing to ignore how Logan looked over his shoulder and snarled at the man as they walked away.

Dinner thankfully went off without any hitches, but since Y/N and Logan were seated next to each other, the constant whiffs she got of Logan's unique (and intoxicating) musk whenever he so much as shifted in his chair were driving her insane. Not to mention the absentminded circles he was drawing on her leg under the table, which he didn’t need to do since nobody could see.

Just as she thought she’d be able to beeline it to somebody’s office or the bathroom or anywhere else to hide, Jean pulled her aside while asking to talk to her in private, making her think a string of expletives that she was well aware Jean could still hear as she allowed herself to be dragged to an unoccupied corner of the ballroom.

Once they were away from listening ears, Jean said, “Okay, what is going on between you and Logan? Yesterday you were threatening to shove him off the roof, and now you two are all over each other! And don’t even try to lie,” while raising a questioning eyebrow. Y/N let out a petulant whine, but Jean shot her a look that Y/N liked to call “The Mom Glare”, so she let out a loud sigh and explained everything, her voice growing more hysterical with every word:

“Okay, I bribed Logan into being my fake boyfriend for the night to keep the creeps away, and I told him to do whatever he needed to do so people would believe it, but I realized that I like what he’s been doing way too much for us to be just friends, and I’m losing my goddamn mind, Jean!”

Jean put her hands on Y/N’s arms to ground her and said, “Whoa, calm down. What exactly has he done that’s got you so worked up?” Y/N let out a mildly panicked laugh, then said, “For starters, if he was within arms reach of me, his hands were on me. He was being super protective of me in front of Tony even though we all know he could snap the Tin Man like a toothpick if he wanted to. He kissed me on the jaw earlier when some sleazeball was hitting on me by the bar, then snarled at him as we walked away. And to top it off, he was drawing circles on my leg under the table at dinner, and I’m not convinced he realized he was doing it, because I did nothing to stop him. Ugh, this is so complicated!”

Jean made a confused face at this. “Why does it have to be complicated? You two clearly have feelings for each other that are more than platonic. And if I may, he agreed to this crazy scheme of yours, didn’t he? At least some part of him feels the same way about you.” This earned another whine from Y/N.

She started rambling, “I don’t want this to change our relationship! I mean, yeah, I’ve had a crush on him for years because I’m not blind, but we’re just friends! And we’ve always been just friends! We bust each other's chops, we affectionately threaten each other with violence, we smuggle contraband into the school for each other even though Charles absolutely knows we’re doing it, so there’s literally no reason for us to be so secretive about it. I can’t just throw that away because I’m in love with him!”

Unfortunately, she didn’t notice Jean’s face pale or her attempts to get her to stop talking until a familiar deep voice said, “You’re in love with me?”

Y/N’s blood ran cold, and she turned around to see Logan standing there with a confused expression on his face. Her stomach clenched, and she said meekly, “How much of that did you hear?” hoping he wouldn’t say what she thought he was going to say, and bracing herself for the worst.

“Everything after ‘complicated’.” Fuck.

A whimper escaped her throat, and she heard Jean scamper off behind her. She sighed and whispered, “Shit,” squeezing her eyes shut in embarrassment. Logan made to move towards her, but Y/N recoiled from him and said, “Don’t!”, before side-stepping him and sprinting out of the ballroom as fast as her wildly impractical attire would allow her, ignoring the concerned calls of her name from her fellow X-Men.

Y/N knew Logan would catch up to her eventually, but for the moment, the only thing on her mind was getting as far away from the ballroom and him as possible. She ended up in the hedge maze, and she fell onto a stone bench to catch her breath, but all too soon she heard Logan yelling her name.

She ignored him, then proceeded to bury her face in her hands and cry due to the sheer irony of the situation: She was hiding in a stupid hedge maze from the only man she’s ever wanted because she can’t bring herself to face him.

Logan rounded the corner a few moments later, and the second he saw her on the bench and heard her sniffling, he knelt before her. “Hey, don’t cry, Sweetheart.” He gently pulled her hands away from her face.

Y/N just shook her head and whispered, “I can’t do this, Logan,” through her tears, making Logan’s eyebrows furrow before he said, “Can’t do what, Darlin’?” and went to wipe her cheek with his thumb, but it was too much for her to take.

Y/N flinched away from his touch and sobbed out, “This! The pet names, the tender touches, you looking at me like that! I can’t go back to just friends after everything that’s happened tonight, I can’t! If you’re gonna let me down, please just let me down gently because it’s the only way I can bear losing you!”

A fresh flood of tears blurred her vision enough that she couldn’t see his face, and she tried to get up to run back to her room or anywhere else where she could lock the door and try to pretend like this whole night was just a bad dream, but Logan’s hands shot out to hold her in place. “Y/N, who said anything about letting anybody down or losing me?”

Y/N startled at the sound of her first name coming out of his mouth, and she blinked back her tears to find him looking at her so tenderly she thought she was going to melt into the grass below her. Logan cupped her face in his hand and said,

“From the day that I met you, I knew I needed to find a way to keep you in my life. For a while, that was by being your friend. But only being your friend isn’t enough for me anymore. I need you more than I’ve ever needed anyone in my entire life.” His thumb stroked her cheek comfortingly as he spoke.

Y/N giggled through her tears, and she said, “That’s a long ass time, Wolvie.”

He chuckled back and said, “My point exactly, Doll,” squeezing her knee for emphasis. Y/N looked down at the ground and said, “You’re gonna get grass stains on your pants.”

Logan raised an eyebrow challengingly before bracing his hands on the bench on either side of her and purposely grinding his knees into the grass, pulling a shocked laugh from her. “Logan Howlett!”

He chuckled at her admonishing tone, then leaned in to press his forehead against hers and murmured, “It stopped being pretend for me the moment you came downstairs in this dress,” as he ran a hand down her leg to fiddle with the hem of her dress.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, and she whispered, “You had me at ‘hey, baby’.” For a moment they just stared at each other, but Logan’s resolve broke when she breathed his name, and he surged forward to capture her lips in a desperate kiss that said everything words couldn’t then.

His tongue ran along the seam of her lips, and she let him in without hesitation as she gripped the back of his jacket and he held her against his chest like she’d disappear if he let go. Y/N could have stayed in his embrace forever, and Logan could have kept her like that indefinitely.

Unfortunately, humans need oxygen to live, so Y/n pulled her lips away to at least attempt to catch her breath, but Logan had other plans.

He trailed his kisses down her jaw to her neck, and his hand started roaming around her back to find the zipper of her dress, but Y/N put a hand to his chest to stop him and said, “You better take me on a real date before you try something like that, Howlett.” He buried his face in her shoulder and groaned disappointedly.

Y/N giggled, then said, “As far as I know, the gala doesn’t end for another few hours,” to which Logan leaned back so he was sitting on his heels.

“I think I like where your head's at, Princess,” a smirk crossing his face before he jumped to his feet, scooped her up bridal style, and started jogging back to the mansion, his heart swelling at her squeal of laughter and how her arms tightened around his neck.

Logan set Y/N down outside of the ballroom, then held out his hand and said, “Ready, Darlin’?”

She smiled and said, “Always, Big Guy,” before lacing her fingers with his and walking into the room, where seemingly every Avenger and X-Man was standing and waiting with bated breath.

Y/N bit her lip and looked up at Logan, who let out a resigned sigh and said, “Ahhhh, fuck it,” before sweeping her into a dip and kissing the life out of her, an eruption of shocked laughter, wolf whistles, and applause coming from the gathering of heroes, making Y/N smile against his lips and cup his face in her hand.

When he pulled his lips away, Logan murmured, “I’m in love with you, too. Didn’t get to say it earlier,” making Y/N snark, “Oh, really? I never would have guessed,” before giggling and reconnecting their lips, Logan chuckling as he held her even closer.

Scott hollered teasingly, “Hey, lovebirds! Mind wrapping it up?! We’ve got places to be!”

Both Logan and Y/N simultaneously flipped him off while they stayed engrossed in each other.

“Yeah, fair enough,” Scott said, making Jean laugh at him. Logan eventually stood Y/N up again, then said, “Hey, Stark, is there any good shit left? I don’t know about you, but I finally got the girl, and I feel like celebrating.” As he spoke, he shot a wink at Y/N solely to make her blush.

Tony said, “Absolutely!” A waiter came over with two glasses of champagne, and even Y/N could tell that it was high-quality stuff just from the smell.

Logan held his glass towards her, then said, “To you and me, Darlin’.” Y/N clinked her glass against his in cheers and said, “You and me, Bubba,” everyone cheering as Logan kissed her temple.

As an avid romance novel reader, she probably should have seen this coming, but she couldn’t really bring herself to care about anything else besides the comforting feeling of Logan’s arm around her waist and the knowledge that he was all hers for as long as she wanted him, which was forever.

———————————————————————

MCU Taglist: @libraryofloveletters

Let me know in the comments if you want to be added

[olderthannetfic]

I accidentally killed my own desire to write, and I need some advice. To be really blunt about it, what's the point of writing? When I would spend lots of time laboring over making a good story with a plot and characters who were in-character and connecting all the dots narratively so payoffs were satisfying, my reward was dead silence and virtually no clicks. I posted some mindless smut to my side account one day and got more hits in a day than most of my other works combined got in a year. I know, I know. "Write for ~*~yourself~*~" is the common response. It's the "be yourself!" of writing. It's supposed to be a magical phrase that'll make everything okay. But... I don't like knowing that something I spend months working on won't be read by anyone while something I write in a car while bored got thousands of clicks. I don't like making something I'm proud of and then no one ever looks at it. That's not fun for me. It's not fulfilling.

For a solid decade, I've tried to ignore how the level of interactivity in fandom is falling. Fewer comments. Fewer kudos. No comments in the bookmarks. You put your tumblr and Discord in the AN and get a handful of asks and one person who adds you, talks to you twice and then ghosts you. Most of the comments are "well, actuallys", made even more annoying by them being wrong as opposed to actually correcting an error. I avoid fandom drama, wank, and infighting. I don't engage with things I know will make me unhappy. I try to be happy over in my own little corner. I comment on every single work I read. I want people to enjoy fandom. I used to.

Some dumb smut I wrote in 40 minutes gets five times the hits of the writing I'm most proud of, and it gets it in just under three months. I am not a great smut writer. I haven't stumbled onto an incredible talent I had that makes it so the issue is that I'm so amazing my smut brings all the boys to the yard. People just don't like what I write and put effort into. It's very likely that despite 20 years of writing fic, I suck at writing. And people enjoy my writing most when they don't have to put up with anything substantial and can just skip to the sex.

So for the last eight months, when I write, I just sort of give up. Close the Word doc without saving. No one will read this. No one cares about this. There is no fan eagerly awaiting every update like I await updates from my favorite authors. There's not even someone saying, "update soon!" Close the Word doc. Delete old WIPs. There's no point. I do not tell stories worth reading. I used to. In the FFN days people genuinely enjoyed my work. I'd never have had an opportunity to do the 'I won't update until I get 3 reviews' thing because getting that many on a chapter was usually something I'd do overnight. Post before bed. Wake up. Read the reviews before school. I peaked in high school, I guess.

And now I'm just sort of lost. I still have lots of ideas. Ideas for fics fall into my head all the time. That's never been a problem. What I don't have is any motivation to write them. What's the point of writing? If no one else is reading, I guess the point would be so I could go back and read my own story and have fun with it. Write for myself. But I can review the story and have fun with it in my head without writing it down. It's substantially faster and more importantly, isn't incredibly depressing.

So, at the risk of definitely being calld the second-coming of True Art Anon or a troll or validation-seeking or haha mentally ill haha... what's the point of writing?

--

Okay, so write porn in a car while you're bored.

Look, you can whine all you want about my response, but what you've written here is blatantly about depression.

Lots of people in fandom are still interacting. And no, it isn't just on fics that are objectively written to some pro fiction standard or whatever. Teenagers still breathlessly review poorly spelled cracky masterpieces about this year's big anime and so forth.

Yes, there may be reasons why you in particular are in a slump when it comes to fandom friendships or "plz update" comments. We can talk about that. But this ask is all gloom about fandom in general. That's not realism: that's you having a problem.

--

As for why a person should write: because the actual hours you spend doing the writing are fun.

If they aren't pleasurable in some way, find another hobby.

--

But if you want an answer to the age old "Why did my 5 minute fic get 1000000x more asspats", I've seen meta about this for literally decades.

The most likely reason is that the fic we write quickly and without much thought often feels fresher and more fun. The things we labor over endlessly can feel overworked. Even in cases where they don't, they're often heavier subject matter or more niche subject matter. On top of all that, we just care more, so even a high level of feedback doesn't really feel like enough for the effort and care we put in.

--

Do you really need me to tell you why you don't feel the same as in high school when things were fresh and new?

Go read up on combatting burnout or dealing with post-college anxiety or managing stress in a dead-end job in your 30s or finding meaning in your 40s or whatever is going on.

Everyone goes through fallow periods in fandom and in life.

Feeling reinvigorated has to do with internal factors and some general life circumstance stuff. It doesn't have that much to do with number of kudos. That's just the surface trigger for a mood that was already there.

[princesachicana]

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 pt.2

a/n: it's finally here!! how long has it been?! first things first i want to say thank you to everyone who's been rooting for this fic!! I honestly hit a huge writers block and had no motivation to write!! but all the sweet messages from people saying they enjoyed my work has made me so happy!!! SO ONCE AGAIN THANK U AND I HOPE U ENJOY!! I tried my EXTRA HARDEST SO I HOPE THIS GIVES U THE CLOSURE YALL WANTED I LOVE YOU SM! ALSO THIS IS NOT PROOF READ SO PLEASE EXCUSE ANY MISTAKES!! I JUST WANTED TO FINALLY POST FOR U GUYS!!

It took a lot out of you not to stay in bed the next morning. The softness of your bed wrapped around your body gives you some sort of comfort. But of course, staying in bed would only make you feel worse. At least if you got up it would be easier to fake happiness. To no surprise, your phone was flooded with missed calls and texts from both Steven and Belly. Of course, you only responded to belly telling her that you'll explain your reasoning for ditching your "date" with Steven later.

Why did Steven even bother leaving you so many texts last night? If you were such a bother to him? Annoying. That's what he thinks you are. And what if you never heard those disgusting things he said about you? and went on the date with him? Would he just continue to lead you on?

Steven: waiting for you by the pool.

Steven: ur late

Steven: u look pretty even though i can't even see you. pls im starving

Steven: is belly holding you hostage?

Steven: it's been 18 minutes cmon.

Steven: the guys are going to laugh at me for being stood up I'm getting nervous.

Steven: did something happen are you okay?

Steven: belly is worried as well lmk.

You laughed at the messages blinking back angry tears that threatened to fall. Gosh! he was so fake. You could only imagine how relieved he must have been to not hang out with you.

Belly: have funnnn

Belly: no funny business!!

Belly: wait where did you go?!

Belly: Steven keeps pacing back and forth waiting for u

Belly: what’s going on?

Belly: just let us know ur okay

Belly: y/n ??!?!??

Y/n: hey, something came up last night sorry I had you worried. can u come over?

Belly arrived 20 minutes later. You spent the time together watching reruns of your favorite Disney show. “Do you want to talk about it?” Belly asked after a while, noticing something was bothering you.

“I overheard the guys talking about me last night.” You fiddled with the throw blanket that was on your lap. “At first it was just them teasing Steven about our date or whatever.” You took a deep breath upset that you felt like crying. “But Steven only agreed to hang out with me…” You paused blinking back tears. Belly moved closer immediately pulling you into a hug. “He only agreed to hang out with me…so I could stop annoying him! I honestly don’t know what I did wrong?” You pulled away from belly’s arms wiping your tears that had fallen.

“Maybe I was too forward? but I just wanted to see if he felt the same way…it was dumb.” You shrugged. Belly shook her head “Nope my brother is a fucking idiot!” she stood up taking your hand in hers and pulling you up. “I won’t let you mope around all day because of him!” You sighed “I don’t even have a choice do I?” Belly laughed shaking her head. “What do you say we go to the boardwalk? Taylor’s coming in today too” she smirked.

“And maybe someone would be happy to see you I don’t know” she whispered with a grin. “What are you talking about?” You questioned. “Well you know Xavier..the one that works the lemonade stand?” You nodded your head yes. “Well, he totally has the hots for you.” You cringed at her word choice. “He does not!” You laughed. “Oh, he does! you were too busy ogling my brother last summer you didn’t notice him ogling you.” she poked your side teasingly.

“Now let’s go!”

~

“Stay still before I poke your eye out” Taylor groans finishing up your eyeliner. You were now at the Fisher’s beach house getting ready to go down to the boardwalk. You laugh pulling away “I think that’s enough…if you make my eyeliner any thicker I’d cry!” Taylor playfully pushes your head away. “Sorryyyyy i want to make Xavier fall to his knees when he sees you!” You frown when she brings that name up. Sure, Xavier was a nice guy…and he was cute…but he wasn’t Steven.

You’d always imagined Steven being your first everything. First kiss, first date, first time. It was something you’d dreamt of all this time.

“Yeah…im going to get a snack before we head out do y’all want anything?” You ask heading towards the door. Both girls gave you a sympathetic smile shaking their heads no.

As you reached the kitchen you stopped in your tracks. Steven turned from looking into the fridge. You made eye contact for about 5 seconds before you beelined for the cabinets. “Hey,” Steven broke the silence as you pulled out a granola bar. You felt the warmth of his stare and turned finding him now leaning against the counter. “Hey…” you whispered looking anywhere but his face. “So you gonna tell me what happened last night?” Steven crossed his arms around his chest.

“Just didn’t feel up for it anymore ..” You shrugged nonchalantly. “That’s it?” Steven scoffed. “Yeah…that’s it” you whispered about to walk away. “What’s going on? I’m like so confused right now.” Steven gently gripped your arm. “Nothing just forget it…it’s not like you wanted to go anyways.” you rolled your eyes. “And what makes you think that?” He muttered eyes scouring your face for the truth. “Um, I don’t know let’s see …you quite literally ignored me this entire week!” You responded sarcastically.

“I didn’t mean to. I had a lot of shit on my mind alright?” Steven uttered softly. It almost felt genuine. The words he spoke just last night almost became liquid. “Yeah like what?” You whispered eventually looking into his eyes. “You can tell me..” You spoke gently stepping into him closer. No matter how much he’s hurt you. Steven would always make you melt. “Nothing let’s just forget about it…he pulled away opening up the fridge once again.”

It was like a switch was flipped. How he went right back to that cold shoulder he had been giving you all week. “You're a fucking asshole” You spewed, already ready to walk out of the kitchen. “Where are you going?” He abruptly spoke again. “The boardwalk…you know? so I won’t annoy you here.” With that, you left a confused and remorseful Steven behind.

~

“Hey, look y/n why don’t you go get a lemonade?” Belly suggested with an eyebrow raise. Shit. you were hoping they forgot about that. “Guys I don’t feel up for this..” You pouted looking between both Taylor and Belly. “Noooo go talk to him! you look hot as fuck.” Taylor gently grabbed your face giving you a mini pep talk.

“What if Xavier wants to hang out..I cant just ditch you guys?!?” You were stalling and they knew it. “We’ll be here waiting for you” Belly smiled. “Just try to have fun alright? But hey if you don’t really want to do it …we’ll back off” She narrowed her eyes at Taylor. “No…I’ll go” You laughed giving both of them a hug “Thank you guys.i really appreciate this.” You’d definitely still be moping around in your room about Steven if it wasn’t for Belly and Taylor. They both wished you luck as you headed straight for the lemonade stand.

As soon as he spotted you. The biggest smile spread across his face. “y/n? damn, it’s been so long” Xavier greeted you with a hug. “It’s only been a year!” You playfully ruffled his curly hair that sat atop his head. “That’s way too long…I enjoy seeing pretty girls year-round.” He spoke smoothly, he definitely knew how to talk to girls. “Shut up” You laughed pushing him away with not that much force.

“I have an hour lunch break…you up for arcade games?”

~

“So…you seeing anyone?” Xavier asked as he ate a scoop of his mint chocolate chip ice cream. You thought about it for a moment. Technically no you weren’t seeing anyone. But you knew you were still hung up on Steven. A day at the boardwalk with Xavier wouldn’t change that. “It’s complicated…I guess” Xavier sighed “I've been there…it’s rough” You nodded you were curious as to what he meant but you didn’t want to be nosey.

“Hey, look they have street fighter..” Xavier smirked. “Want to go a couple of rounds?” You nodded immediately pulling him towards the game. “Mhhm loser buys the winner a funnel cake!” You suggested with a chuckle. “Ouuu im so down y/n” Xavier squeezed your hand that held his quickly striding towards the arcade game.

Just two more steps, Just two more steps and you’d be fine. The rowdy yelling completely threw you off. You stopped in place looking behind you where the voices were coming from. You had no time to move out of the way, no time to prevent this from happening.No time to stop the trio of boys that you knew all too well. Suddenly a body collided with Xavier, the force immediately making your intertwined hands lose. “Dude, what the fuck?” Xavier groaned. It was then that you snapped back into reality. Eyes wide when you noticed Xavier’s ice cream now all over his shirt.

“What’s up? how are we doing?” That voice full of humor made you scoff. Steven stood tall a smile on his face. You hated that it kind of made your heart flutter. “Steven, what is your problem?” You gestured towards Xavier’s now ice cream stained shirt. “He’ll be fine y/n it’ll wash out.” Steven laughed, but once he noticed you didn’t find this funny at all he frowned. “I’m sorry man, I just came over to say what’s up..” You ignored Steven’s apology not believing he meant it. “Hey want me to help you get cleaned up?” You asked Xavier voice full of concern.

“No.I got it…I’ll see y’all later.” Xavier spoke nonchalantly as he walked away. When he was out of eyesight you brushed past steven heading out the door.

“Y/n” Steven immediately followed behind you. His long legs make it easier for him to catch up with you. “You embarrassed me” You stopped outside the arcade, letting him pull you to the side. “Embarrassed? sorry to interrupt your little date” Steven scoffed. “It's not a date we were just hanging out, why do you care?” You groaned running your hands down your face. “Maybe because just yesterday you were supposed to hang out with me?” Steven spoke definitively.

“Oh my god, just earlier you agreed to forget about it,” you said with an eye roll. “It was dumb, stop acting like you care just go home Steven I did you a favor.” He shook his head “What are you talking about right now?” Steven pulled you in closer, one of his hands placed on your waist. The other coming to the side of your face, willing you to look at him.

“I heard you.i heard everything,” you spoke up voice hoarse. Steven’s heart carried pain at the tears that stood brimming in your eyes. The realization was clear when he made the connection. “And you know..who cares what Jeremiah and Conrad think! what hurt the most was you.” You shrieked. You hated that you were crying in front of him. You hated that when he hauled you against his chest you felt secure.

“I'm sorry baby... I'm sorry” Steven sounded voice vulnerable. Leaving kisses atop your head. “Why would you say that?” you sobbed breaking down in front of the boy who caused it. “I didn't mean any of it” Steven brought your face between his hands once again. “But you said it..it still fucking hurts Steven.”

You wiped your face getting prepared to pull away and walk back home.

“Wait, please let me talk to you.” Steven begged. “okay” you replied being prepared to cry all over again. “My head has been all fucked up..and that isn't an excuse I know” Steven looked down as if he couldn't construct the next words. “Please don't shut me out.” you pleaded gently. “I want you...i have all this time.” Steve confessed for the first time.

“—And I didn't want to fuck anything up we've..been so close all our lives if I ever messed that up I would never forgive myself.” It's as if you were dreaming, the boy you loved stood in front of you disclosing his feelings for you. “And what? this whole week of you acting cold towards me, were you trying to avoid your feelings?” Steven bobbed his head “Yes, if I lied to myself it would make lying to everyone else easier because the fucking truth is I want you so bad” You didn't tell him but at that moment you forgave him.

“And you called me the annoying one?” You giggled pushing on his chest gently. “Right now we could have been making out on the beach….but noo you had to be a brooding boy” Steven tickled your side, causing you to squirm in his arms. “Yeah, my fault can I kiss you now? been practically wanting to my whole life.” Steven threw his head back fake pouting setting one hand over his chest. You figured you'd throw his words right back at him. “You're so desperately desperate”

Steven smirked “Yeah for you? I am” Those words welcomed a whole lot of beautiful feelings. At that moment is when Steven bent down bringing his lips down onto your own. As your lips moved together, butterflies erupted in your belly. You smiled against his lips when you both needed a breath. “Hey, by the way, your not off the hook.. I'm still sort of pissed at you.” You declared pointing a finger into his chest.

“Yeah, I figured” He laughed wrapping his arms even tighter around you. “How about I make it up to you this whole week? I'm taking you out on dates…ill even get on my knees if I have to. I'm going to follow you around like a puppy.” Steven rambled on. You laughed out loud covering your mouth with your hands. “Oh, it's funny?” Steven raised an eyebrow suggestively. “Yeah, you're such a loser.” You joked.

Before Steven could respond you tugged him into another kiss. Perhaps everything wasn't one hundred percent fixed. But you and Steven were finally here together. You and Steven were finally in each other's arms that's all that mattered. You’d figure out the rest together.

tags 🤍: @gillybear17 @snowsharkk @tesssastle @conradsupporterr @alyssa-cabrera @eranthisphiny @xoxoloverb @lostaurorax @lanisdreams @alexzluvz @lalaland-notfound @liltimmyst @unsaidjaelineose @buckys2thicc @lilygreennn @t8lzw @medusaslilsister @1-800-stilinski @yazmi710 @j-brielmalfoy @ashcannotwrite @colbysbrocks @exonct07 @multilover19 @mimisparkle12

@littlefreaksatellite @vintagebitc @lexi-2004 @melllinaa @xcallmetaniax @brizzlessizzler @haroldpotterson @livinginaglasspalace @delicatekidpeanut @queenanababy

@drinkawinchester @sarahbutnot @salvatoremikaelson54 @furiouscopsherduniversity @marrigold-2002 @angeliquelunasstuff @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @daphnen21 @ietss @imanaforever @itsreynasworld @she-is-a-happy-girl @joeybandthings

@kateisintrouble @stvrdustalexx @fictionisjustbetter @whezzy223

@conradssupporterr @clubmeredith13 @fatduck45 @trampstampz @fangirl-kimora

@just-let-me-fangirl-in-peace @reenfluffmarshmallow @kaz-mf-brekker

@yazmunson @bookg1rl @hockey-lover86

@just-a-pink-lady @moo-b1tch

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

I'm just curious since I absolutely adore all your trans Ed fics, what made you read Ed as being trans? Is it more of a personal headcanon since we tend to see ourselves in fictional characters, or did you notice some tiny detail on the show that made you think so?

Oh my friend, I'm so glad you ask.

The cool thing about reading Ed as trans, I think, is that you do not even have to squint to do it. Literally you need to change exactly nothing, and this read suddenly adds a lot of nuance and additional juicy layers to his story and his journey with masculinity.

Ed's whole deal with masculinity, precisely exactly all of it, makes him feel so much like a trans guy who never outgrew the "I need to be hypermasculine so I pass" phase, fitting that read so precisely that given there are trans writers on the OFMD team I would be absolutely SHOCKED if at least some of it wasn't intentional. Every single trans guy I know has been through a version of this, where you come out and you know you're a man but you need everyone else to know, too, and so you lean very hard into masculinity to make damn sure you pass. And not just pass, but pass perfectly. Ed is forcing himself into such a heavy ideal of masculinity that it feels artificial; he needs to make sure everyone sees him as this perfect ideal of a masculine man that he cannot possibly live up to because no one could.

Certainly, parts of Ed's hyper-masculine presentation seem to be things that genuinely make him happy and bring him joy. That's important. Ed's happy to be a man, the problem is that he's trying to force himself into such a narrow idea of masculinity that it's stifling him. It's preventing him from enjoying more ""feminine"" things that he genuinely loves, because he's terrified of being seen as less of a man for it, and people like Izzy reinforce the idea that if Ed fucks up in his performance of masculinity, he's going to be in danger because of that. It's very real, and the added juiciness from reading Ed as trans adds so much to the great story that's already there, I think. There's this additional element of Ed knowing he's a man but needing to make sure everyone else could never doubt it, there's an additional perceived danger to slipping up, there's a sort of jealous admiration for guys like Stede who seem, at least on the surface, so much more comfortable with a different type of masculinity that Ed wishes he could have more of.

And on top of that, there's just a lot of other little additional things, like:

Ed making his beard his whole brand, it just screams beard dysphoria and "no one could ever claim I'm not a man because the beard is my whole THING."

Something about his relationship with his name, and how hard he has to try to get people like Izzy to call him by his name in front of others

The way Ed is dehumanized when he dares to step outside a very safe, masculine gender presentation - it's why Izzy saying "this thing you've become" when Ed is wearing a robe and painted nails hits so hard for me, I think

Okay. okay. listen. You know the scene where Ed makes CJ whip him in the balls. Listen. Ed baby. It just SCREAMS "people here don't know I'm trans and I don't know how much getting hit in the balls should ACTUALLY hurt so I'm gonna lay it on really really thick just to be safe"

There's a lot to be said about Ed and his clothing in a lot of directions, but I'm gonna leave it at how he's really figured out a safe set of clothing that works for him and consistently allows him to be read as this super masculine guy, and he's scared to step away from that. Also, I really like imagining the full-fingered gloves at the end of s1 as a way to cover up the nail polish on his fingernails until it wears off.

I think it's very sweet that Ed tends to be very private when talking about his personal and sex life with others, but a very, very easy explanation for how that got started is he just doesn't want to go around sharing personal details about his body with people!

Yeah. A trans read of Ed is so shockingly easy, fits so well, and adds so much to his journey, frankly I'm amazed it's not more common.

[sohnric]

BIGGER BOYS AND STOLEN SWEETHEARTS — K. SUNWOO

pairing: kim sunwoo x fem! reader

genre: fluff. platonic but also not really 👀 jealous sunwoo that is also very delusionally in love with the reader. sunwoo plays the electric guitar but also he's kind of shit so yn has to help him

word count: 1.8k

warnings: swearing, jealousy, the reader is basically half naked and sunwoo ogles a bit

a/n: this fic is my way of battling writer's block. uni is kicking my ass but also i thought of this in the train omw home so i guess its also good for something. this is very much inspired by sunwoo wanting to learn how to play electric guitar, me remembering i own one, and also miri @/satoruly associating bigger boys and stolen sweethearts with me and making me forever insane because of it. also reblog and comment pls its so quiet here its depressing.

once again thank u so much @csenke for beta reading this fiesty baby and thank u @from-izzy for helping me with the flirty bits i owe you my life.

“You have to leave by 5, because I’m hanging out with Mark later,” you call for him as you enter the room, eyes catching a glimpse of Sunwoo sitting on your bed, an electric guitar in his hand. The boy furrows his brows at your words, a bitter taste on his tongue making him roll his eyes as he focuses his attention on the instrument in his lap, fingers aimlessly playing with the strings.

“Okay, alright,” he hisses, clicking his tongue. If you notice anything odd about his behavior, you don’t mention it to him– and if he was self-aware enough to recognise the acid aftertaste your words leave in his mouth for what it really was, he’d be even glad for your sudden blindness to his infatuation with you.

“We’re going to the new bistro that opened downtown,” you hum, as if to only fuel the boy’s frustration further. If all you wanted to do was talk about the guy, why did you invite Sunwoo over in the first place? This was starting to feel like a trap.

“I told you about that place,” he huffs.

“Thank you for the recommendation,” you smile at him ironically, and when your eyes finally meet, Sunwoo recognises the playful glint in your eye– you’re 100% aware of the tension in the air, enjoying the way you have the boy completely under your spell, ready to be torn into pieces. It’s that look you have on your face every time a guy hits on you– the one that mirrors victory, the slightest kick it gives your self-esteem making you grin to yourself as you twirl your hair on your finger and satisfy the man with the slightest touch on his arm. You play into it– you always do– but you never quite let anyone sweep you off your feet completely.

“I thought we would check it out together,” Sunwoo says, fingers plucking at the E string of the guitar, making a dull sound resonate through your room as the background to your conversation.

“We can do that later,” you say, shrugging, “I’ll give you all the recommendations.”

“Traitor,” Sunwoo hisses, glaring at you with a tinge of hurt behind his orbs.

“Don’t be so butthurt.”

“Don’t be so merciless, then,” the boy counters, averting his gaze from yours. “Is he picking you up? I bet he doesn’t even have a car.”

“That’s an unusual way to express jealousy, considering you don’t even have a car, Sunwoo,” you grimace, chuckling at the emotional outburst of your friend. “Besides, his dad owns a car bazaar. I think the possibilities of him not owning a car are quite close to zero.”

Sunwoo stays quiet at that, the call-out making red splotches appear on his cheeks from shame. His eyes quickly move to the guitar again, hypnotizing it with his gaze, fingers clamming at the strings. 

Do you like torturing him? Is this what it’s all about? Just a few days ago, he thought he had it all– sneaking his hand into the back pocket of your jeans as he was dropping you off, receiving a ruffle to his hair after you pulled away from his hug, sending a flying kiss to him as you disappeared behind the front door. Today, all you’re talking about is Mark, Mark’s car, Mark’s family, Mark’s school, Mark’s fucking hairstyle, and all Sunwoo can do is either rip out all of his hair, or fantasize about ripping out Mark Lee’s instead– strand by strand, slowly, mercilessly.

“Whatever,” he comments, shaking his head at you. After many months of being friends with you, he should be immune to your charms. The more time he spends with you, though, the more unarmed he seems to be to your enchanting magnetism. You’re not nice to his heart, but up until this moment, he kinda liked the tug of war over yours.

The moment drags itself along before he hears you sigh from somewhere in front of him, frustration so evident in the sound. Sunwoo doesn’t really know what you have to be so infuriated about, since as far as he’s aware, he’s the one left cold and unwanted in the comfort of your room that smells deadly of your perfume (that’s so hard to shake off sometimes, yet he can’t find it in him to hate the sweet scent), but as he looks up to meet your eye, he chokes on his own spit at the image that meets his eye.

“You still don’t know how to play that riff, do you?” you click your tongue, shaking your head. It’s not the action that leaves Sunwoo feeling warmer than before, sweat almost comically appearing on his forehead– the image of you in only last remains of your school uniform does, though, as his eyes unashamedly scan the lengths of your now uncovered legs up your thighs to the curve of your bum, visible as you stare at him sideways, soft skin only slightly covered by the tinge oversized white button-down, red lace peeking out, piercing his gaze.

The boy silently shakes his head, licking his lips in a scattered manner. “Nope,” he admits, letting the last syllable pop in the now silent room, blood rushing to his ears as you stride forward and reach his position in your bedsheets.

“It’s really easy,” you huff, “you just– wait, let me show you,” you start, almost making the boy offer your own guitar back to you, before he watches you climb into the bed behind him, making his breathing hitch in his throat.

This is not at all what he expected you to do, he recognises when he feels your breathing on his neck as you lean over him, thighs straddling his back and pressing into his sides when you kneel on the mattress behind his back in order to have the best vision of the guitar. Sunwoo’s hands slip off the instrument when he finds your head next to his, your arms sneaking around his figure to press the chords down with your digits instead, strumming the strings and caging the boy into your scent and the flush of your muscles, forcing him to watch the little tutorial from first point of view. Your fingers move skillfully against the strings, having played that exact riff many times before (which is also why Sunwoo decided to pick it up, for it reminded him of the afternoons spent in the comfort of your room, laying on the rug in the middle of the floor as you played him your favorite songs), and he can’t help but feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up when your breath meets the side of his face.

“Clearer now?”

“Mhm,” he gulps, nodding. He’s too afraid to turn his head, too scared to see your face so from up close and not instinctively trail his gaze to your lips (of which curves have been sculpted in the heaven, he thinks), and so he only results to taking ahold of the guitar again, battling the reality of having your naked legs pressing into him from behind, fighting the image of your underwear out of his head to the best of his abilities.

He tries to mimic the position of your fingers on the guitar, but the fact that he remembered it wrong (or just was too distracted by his surroundings to really take the information in) is set out to him when you quickly take ahold of his hand, left palm glazing his to move his ring finger to the right position. “Here,” you hum, “that’s the problem. You keep pressing it on the 3rd fret instead of the 4th and that’s why it sounded so weird,” you laugh, the vibration of it against his back making Sunwoo feel like he’s being pumped with pure electricity, fireflies filling his stomach.

“I think it’s too fast for me to keep up with,” he complains, managing to drag a coherent sentence out of his mouth.

“I’ll pluck the strings for you,” you offer, voice saccharine right in his ear, “just try to get the chord patterns down.”

The boy nods, forcing the snapshots of the chord placements to the front of his brain, both begging to get it right so you end your little intimate tutoring session and also hoping he messes up again just to have you scold him and forcefully dragging his fingers to the correct strings– having Sunwoo pathetically yearning for the slightest of your touches. The heartbeat ringing in his own ears serves him as a metronome, and as he chews on the inside of his cheek when he starts, his head spins with the intoxication of your scent, making it hard for him to focus on the tune. 

“You got it wrong again,” you hiss into his ear, making goosebumps appear all over his skin. Oh, how mean you are– completely aware of the effect you have on the boy. He’s starting to think you love the idea of torturing him. It must be fun to have someone so under your spell, so drunk on your bare existence. 

“I’ll practice more until our next tutoring,” he gulps, laughing airly as you let go of him and move away, letting the poor boy finally breathe.

“You better,” you snicker, standing up and walking back over to your opened closet, bending over to pick up your discarded skirt off the ground and offering the boy a clear view of your bum from where he’s sitting on your bed. Now, there’s no denying you like to tease him. And Sunwoo is aware he might get burned, but like a little boy, he kind of enjoys playing with fire. “Or I’ll start to think you are enjoying my lessons a little too much.”

“Only the ones where you get all angry with me,” he notes, placing the guitar next to him on the bed, his palms now too sweaty to continue playing. “You’re kind of hot when you scream at me.”

Throwing a playful look over your shoulder at the boy, making the first two buttons of your blouse undone, a chuckle leaves your throat. “You’re not the first one to tell me that, sweetheart,” you note. “Now leave my room, you pervert. It’s almost 5 and I have to change.”

Defeated, but still obedient, Sunwoo stands up from your bed and takes slow steps towards the door, dreading his departure. The idea of Mark Lee getting to enjoy this side of you makes Sunwoo particularly green, but the feelings quickly fade when he remembers the moments from a few seconds ago, when he thinks back to the softness of your skin. Before he has the chance to leave, though, a tug on his tie yanks him towards you– the school uniform still covering his body from when he walked home with you two hours ago, carrying both of your bags,  proving as an effective attire for your afternoon hangouts.

Pulling him down so your faces are on the same level, the tips of your noses almost touching, has Sunwoo’s shocked eyes grow comically wide and his cheeks burn a crimson red. He feels your breathing fan his lips from the proximity, heart once again running a marathon in his chest when your voice purrs out in a feline-like manner, riling him up. “Always tugging on those strings, but I'll have you know, Sunwoo, you tug on mine all the time,” you grin, gaze only momentarily slipping towards his chapped lips.

Oh, you’re not nice. You’re pretty fucking far from nice– from how you’re playing with his heart, leading him on. 

Or are you not…? He guesses he’ll have to find out. 

You're a far better guitar player than Sunwoo is, but if you ever wanted a new instrument to perfect, he is more than willing to offer you his body to practice on. 

[fluxweeed]

hi i'm a grouchy old hag muttering to myself in my hut in the woods

1. not everyone finds it hurtful to find out that people are discussing their fic in private discord servers or on tiktok, actually. i for one passionately don't care that people aren't only mentioning my fic where i can see it. ofc i'm curious when one fic gets a sudden unexplained boost in kudos for a few days. am i HURT that i don't know exactly where the new readers are coming from? am i upset that the boost in hits/kudos isn't accompanied with a flurry of praise? am i sad that i can't jump into the discussion? i am not.

2. the messaging of "okay but you wouldn't post the fic if you didn't enjoy validation" makes me want to delete my ao3 immediately kasdjhfg. people post things for all sorts of reasons thank u!! my personal motivation is i'm trying to make myself feel better about making imperfect things!! the idea that by posting fic i'm inherently coming across as seeking praise makes me want to throw up. (since this discussion started, i've considered disabling comments on my fic for this reason – but i'm worried that move is so non-standard that it'll end up coming across even MORE that i want attention 😭)

3. i also pretty firmly disagree with "commenting on fic builds community!" personally i feel the community spirit when i'm in a server discussing which weasley has the biggest dick (percy). i don't feel it when people are being nice to me in my fic's comments. i'd almost go as far as to say community CAN'T be built when one person is praising another bc there's an inherent imbalance. sure, writers can mutually read and comment on each other's fic and become friends/community co-members that way, but what if u don't write? who's in YOUR comments telling u how great u are? idk about anyone else, but when i am in a community space (like a discord server) and someone starts being nice about my fic, i feel awkward; the focus shifts from a shared enjoyment onto something inherently UNshared, because one person is the creator and the others are readers. that's not to say that these interactions shouldn't happen, but imo it's disingenuous to say that's the core of fandom community.

4. i really can't stress enough how crazy it makes writers when they're writing for praise/validation. i've had conversations with very well-known drarry writers where they've been genuinely upset that nobody is reading their fic (the fic in question had hundreds of comments). i've had conversations with people who take part in fests, only to continually sort the works by stats and feel awful that theirs isn't at the top. i've had conversations with people who have had multiple devastating life events happen to them so they're struggling to write, and the lack of New Fic Comment Validation makes them feel 10x worse. i can't help but feel like if you ARE posting for feedback (or "recognition" or however you want to package it), it's genuinely not good for your brain.

5. obviously there's nuance to all of this! it's a big topic! i'm sure everyone experiences this differently! but notice how we're talking about it on tumblr, not in ao3 comments. it would probably be even more productive in a discord server. in a voice chat. you know – fandom community spaces like that.

6. can y'all keep the next round of discussions to like 700 words max pls lmao i have stuff to do

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Repentance

Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader

('Burn' gifs are limited and this was hotter. Sue me.)

Summery: You know the phrase 'sleeping angels?' Yeah, not in this fucking house. Pretty soon it's gonna be you or him, but Billy may have a trick or two up his sleeve to provide a happy ending for you both

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specified genitals for Reader, prequel/standalone fic for 'My Ghost' but not required reading to enjoy this fic, ('My Ghost' may even be enhanced if you read this first, I'll be fr.) Porn with plot (if you are only here for plot, the porn is only in the second half and is easily skippable), snoring, Reader is sleep deprived, non-serious threats of violence, mentions of gun violence, banter, make-up sex, drug usage/alcohol consumption, Dom!Billy, Sub!Reader, Reader goes mostly non-verbal after smoking but their thoughts don't, dumbification, Reader gets spoiled and folds like a lawn chair me too bitch me too, massage turning into sex, doggy style, Reader gets that good dick that knocks their head into a wall, vocal! Billy, dirty talk/talking through it, pet names, possessive sex, mentions of wet dreams, happy ending for everyone :)

Other Works in This Series: 'My Ghost' (Original) • 'Lapses' (Sequel to 'My Ghost')

Notes: This was supposed to be a drabble and it was not gonna contain smut. What can I say, when the holy spirit of a short man with big brown eyes compels you, you compel him into your bitch. Anyways, this was inspired by this headcanon written by @g0ry0re0! So if you liked this fic, please thank her as well in the comments and go support her works because this wouldn't exist without it!! They're a fucking great writer as well.

                            -¤°》◇《°¤-

Have you ever killed a man?

I might.

Listen, I'm not a bitch. I'm not unreasonable even though that was a hell of an opening statement. But if you'd dealt with the shit I've put up with for the past few nights, you would understand.

How can a man who's not even that fucking large in stature make such noise? What the fuck is wrong with him?

I kick him to try and hit a reset button. It works for five minutes, which is long enough for me to begin to relax again. Right before his snoring revs up like the engine of that bike he loves parked on our front lawn. Maybe I'll run him over with it. Be poetic, take him out with his own weapon. Don't the reports show just how deadly motorcycles are compared to regular cars? It's bad for your health.

Okay, I'm assuming that bit because I'm tired, I'm cold, and Billy won't shut the fuck up. It was a little cute when he was just spending the night and we were hardly sleeping. But now that he actually lives here?

Kick. Stop. Wait. Snore.

Goddammit.

Billy has the fucking audacity to greet me with a smile this morning. Sitting at my fucking table, smoking from the ashtray I fucking made him. He should be ashamed to look so good with no shirt on, displaying his chest hair for the whole neighborhood to see as he sits near the open window with coffee set in front of him like he owns the damn place.

"Morning beautiful," he says with a smile. What fucking nerve does he have to sit there and act so happy about while I hate him?

"You snore," I growl. His eyebrows shoot into the air, this son of a bitch has the nerve to widen his smile.

"I'm sorry?"

"I said you fucking snore," I repeat.

"Don't think I've heard that complaint before," he says, shifting in his seat to look at me better. I don't like the way he looks in those sweatpants, grey and hugging the wrong areas for my attitude.

"You haven't dated anyone long enough for someone to complain about it," I mutter under my breath. His eyes focus on the oversized shirt I wear that alright, maybe I stole from the drawer I stash his things in that I now claim as mine. We live together, it's inevitable, fucking fight me. Watching me as I walk into the kitchen, taking the coffee pot off the dock and pouring some into my cup.

"Something I can do to make up for it, shirt thief?" He asks, leaning back in his seat and manspreading, his hands on his horribly thick thighs. "I was wondering where that one went," he mutters to himself, amused.

"Yeah. See a fucking doctor."

It's day five. I'm genuinely considering homicide.

Dear God, or Allah, or whoever you are. If I shouldn't suffocate this man, give me a sign.

...does the short snore that escapes Billy's mouth count?

It doesn't matter what I do. If I turn him onto his side, if I kick him, if I shove ear buds in and blast whatever music I can sleep to at max volume, he's louder and I'm on my last straw. It's him or me.

"William," I say, poking my head up from the old pillow.

No response.

Maybe it's safe.

Maybe he's dead.

Maybe he'll stay quiet.

I lay my head down once more.

"...what?"

"You fucking snore."

"I'm sorry baby," he slurs in half baked consciousness, turning to wrap his arm around my waist as he presses hot, open mouthed kisses to the back of my neck. "Can I make it up to you?"

"Yeah, let me sleep."

"Sleep is for the weak."

I am weak. I am very, very weak.

"Put your dick away."

"It isn't out."

"I can still feel it."

With a grumble and his face buried in my hair, he abandons his quest in favor of returning to whatever dreams make him keep me up at night. And I am so close to joining him when he starts back up hardly two minutes later. Right in my ear.

With a final huff, I tear the blanket off of him and stomp my bleary eyed way to the living room. Fucker is too sleepy to even notice. Fuck him.

I'm not amused when I wake up in the ungodly hours of the morning sprawled on the couch, Billy's foot in my face as early morning light peaks through the shitty blinds.

"You followed me," I groan, my voice rough with sleep.

"I followed blanket," he slurs.

"It's mine."

"I was cold."

"You snore."

"I've offered consolation, you should take it."

"William, have you ever shot a man?" I ask, bolting upright as I wipe the crust from my eyes.

"Fucking what?"

"Have you ever shot a man?" I repeat slowly, properly enunciating each word.

Billy's eyes dart to the side, then back to me, wide but still tinted from sleep.

"...no?"

"I've considered it," I tell him. "There's a gun in my nightstand. And if I don't get some sleep soon, I'm going to use it. I haven't before, but I can't imagine it's hard."

Billy presses his lips together in a thin line, knowing I'm not serious but that I'm on the last straw.

"... should I go back to bed?"

"I can go back to bed," I say. "You can stay on the couch."

"That's a great idea."

"I'll take the blanket."

"You do that."

It's only two hours later when I'm woken by the alarm, and the smell of sausage is fresh on the air. Even if it was short, the sleep in solitude feels refreshing, no interruptions from Yellowstone volcano on the other side.

When I wander into the kitchen he's in the midst of finishing his preparations for a feast. And by feast I mean a fuck load of eggs with sriracha on top and plenty of sausages to go with it. There's also a pile of toast, the bottle of homemade cinnamon sugar next to the stick of butter besides it.

"Morning beautiful," Billy tries carefully, eyeing me as I lean against the hallway doorframe. "Coffee's on the table."

Whatever I said earlier- which may or may not be blurry to me at this point -has clearly changed his attitude. He's even set out the hazellenut creamer for me, a treat.

"Did you sleep well?" He asks, setting a heaping plate in front of me. I don't know how to tell him I'm too sleepy to eat.

"Better," I say. I take a slice of cinnamon covered toast, trying to convince my stomach to wake up. "Kinda cold, though."

He smiles softly at that, setting down his own plate to join me. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I return the smile, taking a small bite of the corner of my toast. He takes a sip of coffee and brushes his foot against mine under the table. The silence is sweet, apart from the radio just ever so quietly playing in the background to add to the calm morning atmosphere Billy has created for me. His hair is ruffled from sleep, his hand nervously fiddling with the thin chain around his neck. He glances at me, smiles apprehensively, then breaks the silence.

"Do you actually own a gun?" He asks, trying so hard to sound casual.

My brows furrow before I realize what he's referencing, letting out a loud laugh and almost dropping my toast in the process.

"I'm not gonna shoot you, Billy," I laugh, trying so hard to maintain my composure.

"Last night you called me William. I did not like that," he laughs nervously.

"William, I will not shoot you."

"My mother calls me that, I don't want you and my mom calling me the same name."

"Willy-"

"Fuck you," he groans, laughing. "You're terrifying."

"When I don't sleep," I add for him. He nods, eyes wide and brows raising in agreement. "Did you seriously make breakfast because you were worried I owned a gun?"

"When you meet the devil, you meet demands," he says. I kick at his foot playfully, giggling.

"The devil doesn't really eat breakfast."

"I know, I packed lunch too."

Fuck free will, I should've done the gun thing a long time ago. When I walk back into the ramshack house that evening fresh off my shift, Billy has dinner, a bowl and a bath prepared for me upon my return.

"I did not take your comments seriously and I'm sorry," he says genuinely, taking my coat. "I should have and you have suffered. Consider this repentance."

"Repentance is nice. You hide the gun too while you were at it?" I ask.

"I'm not answering that."

Billy may be many things, and a cook is one of them. It's simple, fresh, and nice after a long day. The backrub I'm getting while I eat makes the flavors even sweeter.

"I feel an urge to clarify my threat was not serious," I joke between bites, taking a sip of the wine Billy had run out and gotten special for the night.

"I'm well aware, but this is overdue anyways," he says softly. "You're mine and you deserve nice nights." He presses a warm kiss to the spot just under my ear, making me blush. "My baby needs spoiled."

"Well, I certainly feel spoiled," I say contently, finishing the last bite. I lean back in my chair, letting him explore my neck as his gentle hands work their way through my many knots, whispering sweet nothings in my ear all the while.

"Wait until I tell you what kinds of oils I slipped in your bath as well," he whispers in my ear.

If this is repentance, he should snore more often.

I'm stoned, zoned, and completely naked across the bed as Billy carefully massages my legs, phone propped on a spare pillow beside my head as I stare blankly at the show in front of me.

His hands are slick with oil, gliding across my skin with ease as he works at a knot on the back of my calf.

"I've been ignoring you too much," he muses, his voice soft and loving as his thumbs work in small circles. "You're much too tense for my taste."

I am too stupid to respond with English. I will tell him later about the day I've had at work, running around for fifteen different customers and a boss I can hardly stand. But for now a low moan will do, my mind too blurry from substance use and the stimulation that makes me dizzy with want.

"Does that feel good?" Billy asks, pressing a small kiss against my shin. I moan again, eyes fluttering shut. "Wanna make sure my baby sleeps well tonight."

Oh, I'll sleep phenomenally.

His hands abandon me, searching for the bottle of lavender scented oil, coating his hands before reaching for the back of my thighs, right below the curve of my ass.

"How's the show?" He asks me, digging deeply into my tissue in a way that makes me moan, arching my back subconsciously as the stimulation takes over my thoughts. "That good?" He asks, voice deep as he chuckles.

"Very good," I confirm, my voice soft against the freshly washed bedsheets. I have never said a bad thing about this man. I would never curse the provider of relaxation. Any claims otherwise are false and slandering against me and my man.

"You're grinding against the bed, you realize that, right?" Billy asks bemused, his thumbs drawing deep circles against the inside of my thighs, making me gasp in want. "There something else you want?"

Whatever strain he has given me has made me nonverbal, but the squeak I let out is answer enough. For me, anyways.

"I need words, baby. Words. Vague noises are not consent," he says softly.

"Motherfucker that noise was not vague," I snap, lifting my head up briefly before resuming my mindless appreciation against the bed. Billy's laugh echoes throughout the room, his hand lightly smacking my ass before reaching for the small towel and bottle of lube on the nightstand, wiping off his hands before squeezing a generous dollop onto two digits.

His fingers press against my entrance slowly, coating it with the thick, cold lube, making me squirm and gasp against him, my eyes rolling to the back of my head.

"I'm gonna start off slow, okay baby?" He says gently, still stroking my entrance as he positions himself above me. "You let me know if you want me to change something."

I moan in understanding, but it's not enough for him. His voice is low and rumbling by my ear, his lips teasing at my shoulder.

"Say yes if you understand," he says softly, breath hot against my ear.

"Yes," I say just as soft.

"Good," he praises, pressing a soft kiss to the back of my neck. "Good baby."

His cock slowly sinks inside of me, the pot from earlier making the sensations deeper and more vibrant as I feel the sweet stretch even at the top of my head. Billy moves slow, taking his time to enter me as though we had all the time in the world. I can't help but pant against the bed, whining for more intelligibly as Billy sheethes himself to the hilt, pressing himself against my g-spot just perfectly at this angle, no real effort needed when I'm like this. My eyes roll at the touch, my hips bucking in uneven, stupid rhythms against him as he remains still inside of me. Fuck it, he could snore in my ear right now and I'd let him.

Billy's voice is breathy, moaning as he brushes my hair with his hand. "Let me know when you want me to move," he moans in my ear.

"I am," I whine. "Fuck me."

He chuckles against me, his voice rough as he continues in a slow, even rhythm. "You don't want to go slow first?" He asks, pressing a kiss to my spine as he slowly slides against my spot again, his cock making me clench tightly around him.

"Uh uh," I moan, still trying to buck rapidly against him. "Want more."

"You usually get so overstimulated if I start fast at this angle," he teases, ignoring the pace of my hips in favor of his. "Can't even finish fucking you if I start out fast, you're so sensitive by the end."

That's a lie. Terrible lie. Slander.

"Do you really want me to go fast?" He asks softly, one hand finding my hip to guide me to a better rhythm.

"Motherfucker, yes," I whine, lifting my head. He chuckles, much to my annoyance. "Fuck me like you own me."

At that he grabs my hips, slamming me against his base before he begins to violently abuse my hole, fucking directly into my g-spot and never missing once as he fucks me hard enough to make the bed slam into the wall, making a painting rattle on the wall behind us.

"Jesus- fuck- wait!" I cry, my hips subconsciously trying to escape his abuse while I clench around him, silently begging for more.

He slows his pace once more, pressing such soft, sweet kisses to my spine as he speaks. "See? You can't handle it like that. You're half fucked out already and that wasn't even five seconds."

He's absolutely right and I should listen to him more. How wise is my man.

"If I was really fucking you like I owned you," he says lowly between slow, long thrusts, his hands guiding my hips gently as I whimper with each move like the bitch I am. "I'd pick the pace. But here you are, telling me what to do and changing your mind the moment I give it to you. So indecisive is my baby." Very indecisive. Go fast again. "And I'll do whatever you want like a good man should."

I will stay home with the kids. I will scrub my permanently stained linoleum floor until it shines like the top of the Chrysler building. I will spend my days barefoot and pregnant if he so requests of me. In Jesus's name, Amen.

Billy moves slow and purposefully against me, grinding his cock and moaning in my ear while he watches me, smacking my ass here and there when he wants to watch it bounce against his hips.

"So pretty," he moans. "Even prettier when you cum. Is there something I can do to help?"

I whine against the bed, feeling edged and whoreish with his thick dick pulsing inside of me, fucking me into blind submission and making me willing to do anything he says.

"Would someone like for me to go faster?" He coos sweetly, slightly speeding up his tempo as he slams more gently into my spot. "Does my baby wanna get fucked?"

I nod stupidly, whining and huffing as he slowly continues to gain speed.

"You gonna cum around me? Take my cock real nice and fast?" He asks, smacking my ass once more. I clench upon impact, making him do it again and again until he laughs.

"Cum in me," I moan. All care has been thrown out the window, my head scrambled and vision blind.

"Yeah? You want that?" He teases. His balls smack loudly against my front, offering additional stimulation and making my eyes roll. "Looks like you're drooling over it." Motherfucker I am, and?

"I'm gonna fuck you so good you sleep for days, sweetheart," he moans in my ear, slamming into me hard enough to make me squeal. "Kept dreaming about you for the past week. Kept getting all nice and hard only to have you wake me up before I could fuck you. Come to find out I was keeping my poor baby up, being my own cockblock."

His cock pistons in and out of me at impressive speed, one of his hands slamming against the bars of the metal headboard to offer him stability while he fucks me, the bed ramming against the wall so loudly it's all I can hear besides him. I think the painting fell.

"Now we can both sleep better at night. My balls empty, your ass nice and full. Think I'll do it again tomorrow," he muses, slamming me against the bed, pushing me higher. "And again." And higher. "And again." Until the top of my head pounds against the ceiling. "Till the fucken cows come home."

Moo, bitch. Moo.

With a pathetic scream, hardly able to make any noise due to the violent climax, I cry his name as I clench around him. His dick pounds my head into the wall absuively as he chants my name like it's the only word ever known to him, his voice raising in volume until he's shouting it so clear it raises above the rocking of the bed, loud enough surely for the neighbors to hear. I'm hardly even aware of when he cums, or really anything at this point, his dick pulsing within me and fucking his admittedly larger than usual load into me so deep you'd think there'd be no chance of it to escape. I'm only aware he came when his cock finally softens, our cum dripping and pooling underneath of me in a mixed puddle when he slips out with a small whimper, his breath so heavy and wheezing I'm almost scared he'll pass out on top of me.

"Wanna go again?" He jokes, his voice worryingly pathetic as he tries to laugh, sounding more like a death rattle than anything. All I respond with is a shaky thumbs down, my head spinning from the possible concussion I may genuinely have.

It's an effective sleep method. Works wonders for both of us.

                              ▪︎》◇《▪︎

After he slips out of the house one winter morning with my gun tucked in the back of his jeans, I can't tell you how much I'd give to hear him snore against our lavender scented bed one last time, feeling his arms that are now ash and bones on the floor of a gas station just outside of town. My only company now being his ghost echoing his bright laughter down the darkened halls of what was once our home.

You like my ending bbgirl? Special just for youuu.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

Masterlist

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  steddieas_shegoes! @steddieas-shegoes has 382 fics in the Stranger Things fandom on AO3 and 355 of them are in the Steddie tag!

@starryeyedjanai recommends the following works by @steddieas-shegoes:

call me sunshine, send me to space

we'd shake the frame of your car

this place is such great motivation for anyone trying to move the fuck away from hibernation

driver roll up the partition please

"Mickala is a PILLAR in this fandom. She's doing microfics, she's doing multiple month-long challenges at the same time, she's writing a big bang that I am frothing at the mouth over reading soon. She's doing it ALL!!!! She's written an absurd amount of words in such a short amount of time and I am just in awe of her 💕💕💕" -- @starryeyedjanai

Below the cut, @steddieas-shegoes answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Because my love for Steve Harrington could no longer be contained, and neither could Eddie’s. Because have you seen those two? Look at them. Keep looking at them. They’re so!

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

This list is longer than any of us have the time to read, but I will say that enemies to lovers or exes to lovers has been hitting the spot hard lately. I’m also a sucker for a good modern au, like texting the wrong number or rockstar Eddie and otherwise famous Steve.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

At the heart of everything I write, they’re stupid in love. Whether they know it or not, whether they say it or not, they are. I think my favorite tag to use is idiots to lovers or idiots in love because it’s true. They’re just dumb for each other and it’s so fun to write from every angle.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

Okay my absolute all time favorite fic of any fandom I have ever read anything in is Tuesday's Gone With the Wind - Chapter 1 - thisapplepielife - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]. It changed me from the inside out. I think about this fic every single day, sometimes multiple times a day.  But I do also have to say my very, very close second would be start by pulling him out of the fire by pricklywhicket. There is no better Wayne fic, there could never be a better Wayne fic. If you love Wayne, and you love Eddie, and you love Steve, and you love Steddie, this is the fic to read.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I tend to avoid writing heavy angst of any kind, mostly because I tend to also avoid reading it unless it has a happy ending. But I have two things currently in my notes app that are very angsty, one of them would possibly have a more open/slightly unhappy ending, and I might be brave and do it. It’s the one area that I know I haven’t delved into.

What is your writing process like?

There’s a process? You guys are following a process? Oh shit, I didn’t know. But seriously, the process looks a lot like: *has idea *types what should be headcanon of said idea *headcanon becomes 2500 words of actual story *posts I really just go with the flow. I don’t edit 90% of the time, I don’t have a beta reader (except for my bang fic), I rarely even go in with a full-fledged plan. Whatever happens, happens.

Do you have any writing quirks?

If I write Steve with a migraine in something, it usually means I was suffering from a migraine at the time. I almost always give him similar symptoms to mine, though I usually dramatize them a little for the hurt/comfort of it all. They say write what you know and boy do I know migraines.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

I have only written a handful of chaptered fics, and I tried to follow as much of a schedule as I could, but I don’t. I get too excited and I end up just posting as soon as something is finished.

Which fic are you most proud of?

This is a hard one. I am proud that I ever even posted the first thing I did. This was the first fandom I ever published anything in, and I was pretty nervous about sharing something I wrote in a rush on my notes app. But I think I’m most proud of call me sunshine, send me to space. It challenged me to take this one on, and while I know I probably wouldn’t write it the same if I were to write it now, I know that it will always be there as proof of how far you can come if you keep doing the thing.

How did you get the idea for call me sunshine, send me to space?

Uh…personal experience? I was getting a small tattoo and had my usual reaction and then went home and said to myself “Steve would end up in a situation about this” and then I wrote the situation. Which is actually how so much of my works start.

When writing call me sunshine, send me to space, what was something you didn’t expect?

The amount of love it’s gotten! It was still kind of my early days of posting on AO3 and I had only just started really interacting on tumblr, so it shocked me how quickly people started commenting and asking to be on the tag list. That fic is what “put me on the map” I guess, and is definitely responsible for all of the friendships I’ve made in the last year.

What inspired this place is such great motivation for anyone trying to move the fuck away from hibernation?

A silly little headcanon I posted that got way out of hand in my thoughts and then on paper. We tend to lean more towards the single dad Steve thing, especially myself, but then I completely ran with the single dad Eddie thing, and a whole fic came out of it.

What was your favorite part to write from this place is such great motivation for anyone trying to move the fuck away from hibernation?

This fic was my worst enemy for months. I was so busy in real life that I felt like I wasn’t able to give it the attention it deserved. I had a few favorite parts, but I think the first time Mia calls Steve ‘Mama’ is up there for sure. It kinda sets the tone for the whole fic that Steve is meant to be in their lives and this baby knows it before the rest of them.

How do/did you feel writing we'd shake the frame of your car?

Honestly, I was just trying to stick to as much of the prompts as possible. Since it was a gift for Sandy, I wanted to make sure it was the best gift I could give!

What was the most difficult part of writing driver roll up the partition please?

Keeping it on the shorter side! If it were up to me, ficlets like that would be 20k minimum, but because it was for an event and I tend to take on more than I can actually handle, it had to stay short.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

I have a lot of lines that I really love that I am always in awe that I managed to write. But I think I am most excited about the scene in my upcoming bang fic, the scene that came to me before anything else for this fic and inspired the whole thing.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

My bang fic bear hugs starts posting on September 27th. If you like hockey, single dad steve, and friends to lovers, this is THE fic for you. I also co-mod for steddie microfic, which is a monthly exact word count challenge with a new prompt and word count every month; I run Steddie Song Fics, a monthly writing challenge that changes every month with new songs, word count limits, genres, and more; I run Steddie Holiday Drabbles, which is a daily drabble event that takes place in December, with multiple pop-up events throughout the year; and if this posts in time, I am running Steddie Smutty September, an 18+ only event that will have weekly writing and art prompts for the month of September.    

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Thank you to whoever nominated me, and thank you to everyone who supports me and other authors by liking, commenting, reblogging, and recommending fics!

Thank you to our author, @steddieas-shegoes, and our nominator, @starryeyedjanai! See more of steddieas_shegoes's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[stormxpadme]

There's a bit of fanfiction negativity in the tags :(. Looking for something to cheer me up, what's your personal scogan fanfic favorites?

Yeah, I saw that, both in the scogan and scogean tag, with posts even including the character name tags. Like. Not cool, people. Way to make authors feel shitty who have been guarding the ship lighthouse for the last 20 years. Claiming in the most popular tags, there's only like 1 good fic among more than 1500? Wow, okay. So I was very happy to receive your ask. Let's counter that negativity with some awesome scogan reads!

Damaged by scottxlogan

Can't do any scogan rec list without including the leading authority on the subject. @scottxlogan is the author who pulled me into this ship years ago, not to mention they're a great friend, unbelievably talented writer and artist, and they deserve all the love. Damaged is surely one of their most ambitious projects and deserves every single view, kudos and review out there. Set in the DOFP finale verse that is no doubt the author's specialty, the story comes with an alluring, intricated plot that leaves you on the edge of your seat along with all the feels.

Submission by scottxlogan

I'm also including a newer work by the same author in case you just want to get a feel for how wonderfully she writes these guys, not to mention the shameless steamy goodness that are the author's smut scenes. scottxlogan is an expert at reversing common fandom tropes believably, and this will leave you longing for more of these power exchanges easily.

he carries the reminders by Wolfsheart

@mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea is another great friend and author I would trust even with my biggest squicks (not that she writes those anyway :D). She's not only technically brillant and very well-versed in the lore which makes every pairing she writes a great read (check out her Tony/Emma, too!), but she'll also never fail to make you laugh or put those hearts in your eyes. And don't miss all those pop culture references that even put Peter Parker to shame! She also gives us scogan fans exactly what we need with stories like this one, combining our fav hurt/comfort tropes with a healthy dose of canon fix it.

I loved you since I knew you by strangenewwords

@strangenewwords is a fairly new and dearly beloved addition to our group at @scoganbingo events, but she's already made a huge impact with her delicious smut and angst stories that hit you right in the feels. Technically also brillant, the linked story is definitely one you don't want to get spoilered for beforehand because the ending will leave you in absolute awe and tears. The author doesn't shy away from including the darkest sides of Scott's past but handles every subject with the necessary care and respect, and as I said ... You don't want to miss out on all that delicious smut!

The Day Before the Soldiers Came by Cerylid

Cery is offering a much-needed fixit for the team dynamics between the X-Men and Logan before X2 with this story. It comes with a lot of humor but also far more feels than you expect. The texting is hilarious but it's the quiet tones that get to you.

*****

Speaking of fix-its, since that negativity in the tags kinda got to me, too, I might just throw in one of my own works here too since I also got lots of Scogan stuff out there.

My spirit's sleeping somewhere cold

is basically my go-to X3 fix-it. You look for something to make that movie right, you got it all right there. Along with a bit of horror (we are talking about resurrection, after all) comes a dramatic rescue mission in a mental limbo, and you get an Avenger and Emma Frost guest-starring. There's a couple of follow up chapters that explore both scogan and Tony/Emma a bit further, and we even get a Laura version in old movieverse along the line, and of course all the nasty nasty smut you guys are here for.

########

So, that's it from the top of my hat. All these accounts have even more great stories to check out, and there's lots of other scogan authors out there with great stories to enjoy. So don't let anyone tell you, there's no quality scogan stuff on AO3.

[daydreams-after-dark]

in response to your birthday month!

Okay, imagine this because I can’t get these out of my head 🥴

Rough-ish car sex with Han. Like he’s growling in your ear as you ride him in the drivers seat because you were too impatient to wait until you got home. But you couldn't help it, he looked delicious at the show earlier that night and barely had any time for you so you were bored and had too much pent up energy for a quiet ride home. You started off teasing him, which got him so whiny and did nothing to stave the heat already pooling between your legs, but after he tried to dismiss you with whatever excuse, you decided to satiate yourself knowing it would drive him mad hearing and seeing you touch yourself until he finally snaps. He’d pull you into his lap after parking the car who knows where and start grinding your hips against his hardened bulge without even trying to take any clothes off until you come first and then he’s scrambling to get everything off because he needs to be inside of you. Even with his cheeks rose tinted and his hasty fumbling that grow clumsy with his mounting need, he’d still growl out a “Fine, if you wanna act like a needy hole that just needs to be filled, then we aren’t leaving until I can see my cum dripping down to your knees.” Like, I’m a firm believer that Han can be a soft sub until you push the right buttons and then that man is getting what he wants 🫦

Overstimulation/Bondage with Lee Know. Honestly, a lot less detail for this but really just him strapping on a spreader bar so you can’t close your legs while he mercilessly eats you out until he finally needs to finish inside you, and then he’s flipping you over so he can spread your cheeks too to watch himself slip in and out of your sopping wet hole while you can’t do anything except drool onto the sheets. 🤤

definitely not a smut writer by any means (and not the freakiest mind out there) and don’t usually do asks/requests so.. hopefully this all makes sense?😅

part of #sorshas birthday month submissions

MDNI / 18+

Ummmm... You definitely are a smut writer! That was so fucking hot! I wish I knew who sent this birthday feast to me. Will you be brave enough to private message me???

OH GOD!

Rough, urgent car sex with Han!!!!! Such a confined space too, the windows would fog up. The car would be rocking back and forth. His cock so deep inside you, so snug and tight. Sloppy kisses. Lot's of tongue. I feel like maybe a bit of biting might happen too, The cream pie situation. You don't even care if gets on the car upholstery (I mean you've already dribble his cum on the seat plenty of times, right?). Then when he gets you home he takes you two more times.

OMG Lee Know! Your one little paragraph got me so wet! I have a spreading / stretch kink so YES PLEASE!! I want to be helpless and at the mercy of him.

igshvsufyhlejfsdi 😭😭😭🤪🤪🤪🥰🥰🥰 I LOVED THIS SOOOOO MUCH!!!

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

IT'S MY BIRTHDAY MONTH - DECEMBER

Hey my beautiful friends! I have an announcement / request.It's my birthday month, and I am opening up the ask box (even though it was never closed), for something a little bit different.

Instead of you sending in fic / scenario requests (which you still can regardless of this), I am requesting YOU to send ME your naughtiest thoughts or fantasies about your bias.

Like, what are your most filthy thoughts? What would you let them do to you? What do you want to do to them? Is there a particular theme that really gets you wet or hard? (like me and alien Han)? Or, what's a kink you didn't know you had until you started reading smut (like me and Han with 2 dicks - it doesn't have to be realistic)?

You don't even have to be involved! It could be you really love imagining two of the guys (or more) together. I know you have filthy minds and are horny little things.

Hit me with what you've got. Also... of course you can submit anonymously... that way you hopefully won't hold back.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

[xjoonchildx]

Yeah I totally agree as to how writers are leaving. I agree. Why are they leaving you think?

me figuring out how much trouble i wanna get in tonight

lmaoooooooooo

okay, listen. i have thoughts. i have observations. and i’m going to share some of them with you.

in my experience, most writers have been leaving for one of these three reasons:

1. engagement (rather, the lack thereof)

yeah, yeah i know, writers post about this a lot but here’s why: it’s true. readers on this site, for whatever reason, don’t interact with fics as much as they used to. even some fics that get a lot of likes may only have one or two comments, maybe a couple of reblogs with no feedback.

for what it’s worth, i’ve always felt that for the size of my blog (and how flipping long it takes me to post something) i get wonderful reader feedback and engagement. but i see so many writers struggling out in these tumblr streets, posting really great work that gets very little feedback and it’s discouraging for them. i get it.

i will also be transparent and say that as a writer who biases a “less popular member” it kills me when amazing stories about him (and other “less popular members”) just fall flat.

one of the best hobi stories i ever read had 20 notes when i found it by accident. twenty. it had been posted for some time. in my mind, that was a crime—that story was an absolute masterpiece and it had 20 notes (!). i sent it to every person i knew short of my mama because i was offended that people hadn’t recognized its brilliance. sadly, that writer left tumblr and took her masterpiece with her which brings me to my next point:

2. drama and writer-on-writer crime

phew y’all, there’s just so much of it. i don’t know what it is about tumblr that makes some people lose their absolute minds but they sure damned do. i’ve been here for a minute and i have seen it all.

writers mounting anonymous hate campaigns against one another (this happens a lot). writers mounting anonymous hate campaigns against people they pretended were friends (this one happens a lot a lot). writers sending themselves a boatload of hate anons to get sympathy and attention on the dash (this one happens a lot a lot a lot).

popular writers going out of their way to befriend up-and-coming writers only to then turn around and start nasty whisper campaigns about them when the up-and-coming writer’s blogs and stories eclipse their own in popularity.

insecurity is a hell of a drug.

there are some writers who get on here and they’re cool and they stay cool and they enjoy success and guess what? they’re cool about it.

and then there are the writers who get a few thousand followers and a bunch of notes and delude themselves into thinking they’re real-life celebrities. to those writers i would say: pick the fanciest restaurant in your city, call to make a reservation on a friday night and if they don’t have a slot make sure you let them know you’re really big on tumblr. let me know how that works out for you, okay?

it sounds stupid and it is stupid but this happens on this site all the time. what makes me sad is that it drives people away. they take their personalities and stories and contributions to this insane little space we have here with them, which sucks. the author of that amazing hobi fic? deactivated her account over tumblr drama.

so if you have a blog here and you are so wrapped up in jealousy and insecurity that you feel the need to harass someone off the site (including “friends”), log off and seek help.

3. life (adulting, sigh)

this is the boring one, but it still tracks. this community blew up when covid hit and we all had a lot more time to muse about what kim namjoon would look like in his underwear. but so many people had to get back to the grind after a while, and that meant less time for tumblr and for writing in general (wait is this entire one about me oops)

when i started tumblr i wasn’t working full time. then covid hit. so i had a long stretch where i could dedicate a lot of time to writing and posting. and YES i was still slow, so go ahead and throw that tomato lmao but STILL. it really does impact the number of stories going up and some people who joined during the pandemic just don’t have the time to go back to this like they had before.

so yeah, that’s what i’ve personally seen and experienced on this site. the good news is that for every nasty, insecure writer on this site there are dozens of great people telling great stories. i’m going to stick around for them and i hope you do, too 💕

[1000roughdrafts]

another request here! could i please request a fic with pregnant!reader (writer's choice for which winchester brother is the dad!) where the three are en route to a new case and are in the middle of nowhere when reader goes into labor and ends up giving birth in the impala? 😊

Warnings: pregnancy, birth, swearing, canon-level arguing between the Winchesters

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Full disclosure, I've never given birth so please forgive anything that doesn't make sense lmao

Having spent the last few weeks on the road, case after case with no space from each other, I had to admit that the three of us were starting to go a little crazy. Sam and Dean had been at each other's throats over the pettiest things since my six month mark in this pregnancy.

Sam would yell at Dean to get his feet off our bed, and Dean would yell at Sam to lighten up. Or they'd argue about who takes what role in hunts. Tonight, I try to just ignore them to focus on packing, but it proves difficult when my name keeps getting brought into the mix.

"I said no, Dean! We're not taking the case," Sam growls, slamming his book shut. "It's at least a days drive from here, if not two and with Y/N so deep into this pregnancy," he lets out a breath, glancing over at me with wide eyes, as if the realization of my quickly approaching due date has just hit him. "I just don't think it's a good idea."

Dean tries to shake the frustration out of his body by punching a pile of clothes into his bag. He aggressively grips onto the next pile and looks up at Sam, face tight, "so we make a couple of stops along the way to make sure everything is alright," he chides with a shrug, the bag ripping slightly as he shoves that pile into it. "Damn it," he says under his breath.

Sam scoffs with a glare in his eyes, "do you even know how many hospitals we pass to get there? None! Not a damn one!"

Dean shrugs, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, "we'll take the scenic route then."

Frustrated, I raise my voice about theirs, "okay! Can you both please stop talking about me like I'm not here!" I shout, my voice shaking with anxiety. They both spin around, shock in their eyes as they meet mine, as if they completely forgot I was still in the room with them. Dean bows his head, "I should be allowed to have a say in this considering… oh, I don't know," I say, pretending to be amused, then raise my voice, "I'm carrying the baby! And I'll be damned if I spend the next 4 weeks of this fucking pregnancy being treated like I need to be bubble wrapped!"

"I'm just trying to protect you," Sam says sheepishly.

"And I'm telling you I don't need protection," I snap. His eyes widen, and head hangs slightly. He takes a few careful steps my way. Softening my voice, I add, "Sam, I'm tired of all the fighting, and I'm tired of being treated like I can't do anything for myself."

He lets out a long, almost unwilling, sigh of agreement. "I get it," he says softly. "I guess I wasn't thinking… we were… he-" he stutters, letting air bounce between his lips when he knows there's really only one thing he should be saying, "I'm sorry. You're right."

"Thank you," I sigh, ignoring Dean's smug smile.

"Oh, don't act like you're any better, Dean!" Sam sneers.

"Stop!" I say as Dean rolls his eyes. He grabs his bag to head for the door, muttering that he’ll be in the car before slamming the door shut behind him.

Sam scoffs, looking around the room with a blank stare. "He's been such a jerk lately," he says, looking back at me.

"He's probably just scared, Sam," I say, brushing the hair out of his face. "I mean, you know how he is. And our lives are about to drastically change. Who knows what hunting will look like when we have a child to take care of. I mean, life is already so dangerous for us, and now we have to protect something so defenseless. That’s terrifying."

---

The cramping starts a few hours away from our destination when we stopped at a gas station for fuel and food. They were mild at first, going away as soon as they started, giving me a long enough break in between pangs to forget about the last.

"Okay, so apparently the victims all have missing hearts," Sam says in a long sigh, scrolling through news articles on his phone. He looks up with a puzzled expression, "we thinking werewolves?"

I grit my teeth as another pang hits. It's almost like I could feel every groove and line in the road. Clearing my throat, I add, "but it wasn't a full moon, was it?"

"No," Sam says in a soft whisper, "but maybe-" a shout rips through me from a cramp, interrupting Sam and he turns to look at me.

The last thing I see before clenching my eyes shut are Dean's eyes flashing back at me through the rear-view mirror.

"Yeah," I lie, my breathy voice giving me away and I yell out again when Dean drives over a bump. I throw a hand to my belly, rubbing the area that hurts. But it's all hurting now, and then nothing again. I take quick breaths. Anxiety riddles me. Did something happen to my baby? I wonder. My eyes open and my heart just pounds.

Dean pulls the car off to the side of the road with a screech when I yell out again, my hand gripping tight to seat in front of me. The second the car has slowed enough, Sam jumps out to get into the backseat with me.

Dean uses the steering wheel to push from to turn my way, "what's happening? Are you okay?" Dean asks while Sam races to unbuckle my seat belt.

"Of course she's not okay, Dean!" Sam growls, his eyes full of worry. I can hear them bickering with “I told you so” and “yeah well if you’re so smart” in the distance. My ears ring, and I'm too tuned into the frogs croaking in the swaying trees.

A tight ache hits me again and my body jerks forwards as a scream lets itself out of me.

"I think the baby is coming," Sam whispers to Dean with wide eyes.

"No shit," Dean mutters, throwing his door open to come to the backseat. He opens the door, using it to prop up his arm as he looks in.

"No, no, no," I cry, shaking my head. "It's gotta be Braxton-Hicks, it has to be-" I plead, tears streaming down my face. "It's too soon," I say anxious as all hell until another wave of pain takes over, and Sam grabs my hands in his.

"It's gonna be okay, Y/N," Sam says, gently squeezing my hands. His eyes pan up to Dean, getting his attention, "we gotta get her pants off her," Sam says quietly, and I groan.

Dean rushes into action, taking my back in his arms to lay me down on the seat. Sam works fast to get my clothes removed, but slows when the ache hits again.

Sam’s eyes widen when he realizes how close we are to holding our baby, and he rushes to remove his jacket, placing it on the seat between my legs. I prop myself up on my elbows, bringing my feet onto the seat to bend my knees and open my legs. Never in my twenty-nine years of life did I expect to be pregnant, let alone give birth in Dean’s car with the damn Winchester brothers delivering my baby, but here we are.

The cold hair nips at my naked skin, but it’s easy to push past the discomfort of that when it feels like a fucking fire was started on my lower half. Sam holds his hands on my thighs as he encourages me, reminding me to breathe and push. The irritability in me adds to the fire, and I want to tell him to shut up, but I don’t. I can’t see Dean, but I know he’s probably as scared as I feel right now, given how out in the open we are. He keeps a firm, but comforting hand on my shoulder as I push, offering words of encouragement here and there, his focus more on the world around us, scanning for danger. 

Dropping my head against Dean’s arm, I let out a groan as I push, the pain almost unbearable now. I could feel the pressure and burning of each one, and after what feels like hours the pressure increases to the worst pain I’ve felt yet.

I squeeze Dean’s hand probably harder than I should have, but suddenly a weight feels like it’s been lifted from me, and I’m washed with relief of the sweet sound of my baby crying. My arms fail to hold me any longer and I fall back against Dean. 

Sam chuckles as he holds our baby, wrapped up in his jacket, close to his chest. With Dean's help I'm able to sit up, still using him as a back rest.

"It's a girl," Sam says with a big smile, tears welling in his eyes. He hands her to me, and I'm overwhelmed with love, joy and exhaustion.

"Shh, shh," I coo before kissing her on her small forehead. "It's okay, we've got you," I whisper. Tears fill my eyes and I can't help but to sob as I look down at her beautiful face. I rock her in my arms, and her cries quickly calm, turning into whimpers. Tracing the features on her soft face I'm mesmerized at how beautiful she is.

Looking up at Sam, my tears continue to fall, but I wear a smile, "we just had a baby!" I say, almost in disbelief. I continue to rock her for a while, as if it were just me and her. Then I feel Dean's hand tap my arm.

I turn to look at his red eyes, then back at my baby, "do you wanna meet your uncle?" I say in a baby voice before looking up at Sam with a silent request to help me hand Dean our baby.

Dean strolls around the Impala to stand next to Sam, taking my daughter in his arms so carefully. He holds her tightly against his chest, eyes crinkling at the corners as he sways with her. He holds his hand over her head to protect her from the wind, bringing his lips down and plants a kiss on the top of her head. "Well, aren't you just a little cutie," he says, then looks over at Sam, "must not take after your daddy," he jokes. "Ha, ha, very funny," Sam says flatly, but smiles. Dean clears his throat after a pause, "do you know what you're gonna name her yet?" Dean asks, and I glance at Sam hesitantly. "Well, I was thinking Mary Y/M/N?" I suggest, and their jaws drop, but their faces light up. Sam takes a few steps towards me to kiss me hard. "It's perfect," Sam says.

~~~ A/N: Y/M/N = either your mom's name or whatever name you want to put here :)

If you liked my story, please remember to heart, comment or reblog. Or if you'd like, you can add yourself to a tag list here if you wish :) Thank you for reading!! :)

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