#so all my fics are locked behind registered users only

[bittertomato]

Timeless Oath Chapter 21

XX. Deep Down

Summary: Diana and Akko divulge their plans to Bernadette and Alcaeus. Although they still disapprove, Bernadette has Alcaeus accompany Diana and Akko to collect the last items necessary to create the Talisman of Time.

Word Count: 11076

Warnings: N/A (the action is mild)

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[dont-offend-the-bees]

We Glimpse Each Other Out of Phase

Hello lovelies; rough weekend, huh? I've had this one roughly drafted for a couple of weeks and was planning to keep it in my back pocket as a Deadboyween prompt fill. However, given the cancellation news, I think maybe we could all use a little gentle melancholy comfort right now. So I cleaned it up a bit, and I hope you will take this little snippet as the warm hug it is intended as 💛 So this technically follows on from/is set in the same universe as my Painland Week fic Something I Can Turn To. A fic which I basically intended to leave as a one shot, but I got quite invested in the universe and have been absolutely blown away by the response to it. So it became a collection which now features, as well as my own fic, two wonderful fics by williamvapespeare and one by Ingi, and I would heartily recommend you check them out if you enjoy this story or my original one! That being said, you probably CAN read this without having read the first story, I just wouldn't personally recommend it, you'll be missing a lot of context and backstory! 3.7k, rated T, also available on Ao3 (registered users only!) Part One (Something I Can Turn To) on tumblr

Charles may have had a bit of a rough go of it growing up, but there'd been quiet moments, too. Most of 'em in a rickety old attic, with the only lad in the entire world he could trust with just about anything.

But there were peaceful times at home, too. Safe ones. Mostly at night. Long as he was quiet, didn't cry too loud or stomp about, he could get through eight-ish hours unbothered. Sure, sometimes he had to pace around the room a bit, silent on sock feet just to shake out the excess energy that wouldn't let him sleep but honestly? He bloody loved sleeping. Couldn't get enough of it. Long as he didn't make a fuss, didn't draw attention, he could sink into his bed in the cellar room and just sort of... bob out of his life for a bit. Like a smoke break, but better for his health. If he was dead lucky, he'd even stumble into Edwin's arms in his dreams; pass the time there 'til morning, when it all kicked off again.

So it wasn't easy, getting used to night shifts. It was a fair trade-off for all the other freedom in his life lately but bloody hell, did it sting a bit, losing that time. That dark, quiet nothing where he could be nothing, too, just for a bit. There was almost something sacred about it. Something he hadn’t known was important to him ‘til it was gone.

At least the night shift was pretty quiet, usually. Most of the people who needed to use a gym at two in the morning weren't exactly there to socialise. Charles' job pretty much amounted to half-dozing at reception and handing someone a towel now and then. He'd not had many nutjobs to deal with or fires to put out.

Then again, maybe a good disaster was what he needed just to stay awake. Christ, he was shattered. Took him a good few tries to get the key in the lock when he finally staggered home.

Charles was sad — but not surprised — to find the kitchen light on when he fell through the door.

He rolled his eyes. "Honey," he called, jokingly, the endearment all funny and wrong on his tongue. He'd call Edwin a lot of things — mate, love, best friend, fucking soulmate — but honey? Mingin'. "I'm home."

Edwin's reply was half a second too slow — textbook Edwin guilt response. Like when your cat didn't jump off the counter fast enough to pretend it hadn't been there in the first place. "Good evening, Charles."

"Good morning, more like," said Charles, drawing the bolts — all three of them — across and dropping his bag in a sloppy heap by the door. His coat came next, then each shoe, leaving a trail behind him as he stumbled towards the voice. The hallway felt too short and dark to be called a hallway, really. Looked more like a cupboard where someone had shoved a load of loose doors they had lying around. There was one to the kitchen, one to the bathroom, one to the bedroom that was basically also their living room. Plus a bunch of other weird little cupboard doors and hatches and grates and things, none of which led to anything you’d logically expect them to. It was a shambles, really. A 'paint it magnolia and fob it off on the students' sort of ruin. But it was home. Even bone-tired, he still found the energy to lock gaze with the weird eye-motif lamp Edwin had picked up somewhere and put on one of the non-shelves, and give it his customary wink. Felt wrong not to. Unlucky, somehow.

A fanlike halo of yellow light spread across the hallway carpet as he pushed open the kitchen door. He found more or less what he'd expected to find behind it. Edwin: sat prim and proper at the scuffed-up little table, surrounded by books and doing a bang-up impression of someone with no bloody idea what time it was. His chin, tucked elegantly behind his curled knuckles in that little thoughtful pose of his, lifted at the sound of the door. His eyes found Charles and narrowed, just a little, sketching a pleased little crinkle or two at the corners.

"Charles," he greeted once again, voice softer this time. "How was your shift?"

Edwin hadn't had those laugh lines when Charles had met him. Seeing as he was twelve, and not exactly full of reasons to smile. Charles wasn't gonna take full credit for them, or anything, but... well, not many other people putting in the legwork, were there?

He dragged in a breath and let it out again, sharply, puffing it out in a raspberry. "Same old."

Charles crossed the kitchen in about three steps (it wasn't a big kitchen), clocking Edwin's book of choice on the way. Some textbook with a long-winded title that basically translated to lawyer gubbins. He put a hand on Edwin's shoulder — and Edwin tilted his head easily, offering his cheek for a kiss. Charles grinned and pressed one to the tail end of one of those little lines.

"Burning the midnight oil?" asked Charles, nicking one of Edwin's favourite expressions. He always seemed to pick up the ones that made him sound about a hundred years old.

Edwin hummed, carefully noncommittal. "I must have lost track of time."

"Could've counted these, for a start," said Charles, tapping the little saucer on the table. It was piled high with used teabags, like some damp and deranged game of Jenga. "Might've given you a clue."

"I've been rather busy," Edwin sniffed, turning the page in his book. "Lots of swotting to be done before my lecture on Monday."

"Right, that's what this is, is it?"

"What else would it be?"

Charles reached out, pinched the book Edwin was reading at the centre, and slid it out of the bigger, decoy book he was holding with its cover facing out. "Oldest trick in the book, mate. Literally," he grinned. He lifted Edwin's secret reading into his arms, having a flip through. "Y'know, most people only pull that move when they've got dirty mags to hide.”

Edwin cleared his throat. Even in the dim light of the table lamp, Charles clocked the embarrassed flush on his cheeks. "Well," he said, setting the law textbook he absolutely wasn't reading on the table. "It does get rather draining, this intensive focus on one subject. I felt the need for a brief diversion."

Charles closed the secret book, glancing at the cover. "Anthropology, again. Like that one, don't you?"

"Hm. There's much to explore; it encompasses a rather broad area of study." Edwin took it back and slid it, sheepishly, behind the pile of other law volumes stacked at his elbow. "It's a fascinating subject."

"Should've applied for it," said Charles, gentle. He rubbed Edwin's shoulder absently — getting a little more intent when he felt Edwin melt a bit, his knotted muscles loosening under Charles' digging thumb. "Or any of the other five million bloody things you're interested in. Y'know, 'stead of the one thing you're not."

"I am interested in it!" Edwin blustered.

Charles raised an eyebrow at him.

Edwin sighed. "I am," he said, bit quieter. "It's just not all I'd like to be doing. But it was the right choice, of that I'm quite certain."

Charles sighed and stepped around him, coming to lean on the table, arms crossed. Their eyes met across the short distance. "Look. If you say it's alright, it's alright. I'll believe you, mate, honest I will."

He nudged Edwin's toe with his own, sock to holey sock. "But, y'know. Not for nothing, but at school you was always going on about all that stuff you wanted to do. Bloody... archaeology in Peru, and whatever else. Just don't see how a law degree gets you there, is all."

Edwin leaned back in his chair a bit, steepling his fingers. "Well, no. No, it doesn't get me to Peru; or Pompeii, or Patagonia —"

"Or anywhere beginning with a 'p'," Charles teased.

Edwin's lips twitched up in a little smile. "But it will get us somewhere. A great many somewheres, I imagine. As degrees go, it opens rather a lot of doors."

Charles cocked his head, squinting fondly. "'Us'?"

"Obviously, Charles," said Edwin, with a dismissive wave of his hand. Like a reality where he didn't bring Charles wherever he went wasn't worth considering.

Charles grinned, ducking his head.

"I'm sure you'll chastise me for my cynicism," Edwin continued, oblivious to Charles and his soppy moment. "But... Well, given the somewhat rocky beginnings you and I have encountered in life, I thought it best to..."

"What? Play it safe?"

"Yes," said Edwin. Firm, unapologetic. "Exactly. Because I would very much like for both of us to be safe in life, Charles."

"We are! Well," Charles shrugged, scratching at his nose with a wince. Still ached a bit sometimes, all told, even though the break was years ago. "We are now."

"And I would like for it to stay that way."

"It will!" Charles half-perched on the table, and nudged Edwin's leg with his big toe. "I'll look after us, won't I?"

Edwin looked up at him, and his eyes softened. Fuck, but he had the kindest bloody eyes — least when he turned them on Charles he did. His hand landed on Charles' knee, gentle as you like; rubbing small circles with his thumb like Charles had done on his shoulders.

"You've done more than enough already, Charles," he said, looking him dead in the eye; not letting him hide for anything. "It's only fair I look after you, too, now and again. Especially when it's within my power to do so."

Charles laughed, a thin, hitching sort of thing. His eyes felt all prickly. Fuck, he couldn't go crying on him, now — his eyeliner'd smudge everywhere, it'd be so obvious.

"Look after me," he mimicked, catching Edwin's hand in his, stealing it all for himself. "You gimme a bloody reason to wake up in the morning, mate. What else d'you need?"

Edwin opened his mouth, brows going all scrunched up like they did at the start of a concerned lecture. Charles ducked in and shushed him quicksharp with a kiss.

"Not saying I'm about to, like, off myself if you chuck me, or anything," he laughed against his lips, fondness glowing in the grate of his ribs like smouldering coals. He chased the kiss with a smaller one, to the corner of Edwin's mouth; the scratchy dusting of his five o'clock shadow. "I'd just wallow about being proper depressed, so. Don't chuck me, please?"

Maybe he was clinging a little too hard for his tone of voice. Maybe he was giving it all away in the hands — always such desperate, grasping fucking things. Always his problem, the hands. How they grabbed things, hit things, did things before his brain always had the chance to catch up. How long 'til Edwin got sick of Charles hanging onto him like a life raft, dragging him down with his dead weight? How long 'til the bones in Edwin's hands started to creak from being clutched too tight?

But Edwin just scoffed, quietly — completely failing to hide that little spark of humour in his eyes. "I hardly think that's a possibility, Charles," he said, lifting his other hand to pat the back of Charles'. His soft fingertips kissed feather-light against Charles' grazed, calloused knuckles. "Honestly,” he sighed, dramatically. “Here I sit, talking about the devastatingly boring career I'm attempting to get off the ground in order to keep you in the manner to which you've become accustomed, and you think I'm about to chuck you."

He shook his head, crow’s feet crinkling and bloody hell. Charles loved him so much it felt overwhelming, sometimes. Like he needed a whole extra heart in his chest just to store it all.

Charles kissed Edwin's hand and flopped, happily, onto his lap, grinning at the mild ‘oof’ it shoved out of him. Grinning even wider when Edwin's other arm wrapped around Charles’ waist without a second thought. Edwin was a bit picky about personal space, for good reason — not with Charles, though. Charles had a standing invitation and he put it to bloody good use.

"Bet you could make a weird job work for you too, y'know," said Charles, dropping his next peck to Edwin's forehead as he sank into his lap. His head felt heavier already; only thing keeping him going was the effort of holding himself upright. Draped over Edwin like a blanket, he could've just dozed off right then and there. But the kitchen chair was creaking threateningly, so. Probably a bad idea. "I know the weird stuff's usually more competitive and that, but you're that smart. You'd run rings round the others, mate, get ahead of the game."

He flung his arms round Edwin's shoulders, scratched at the back of his head, the hair at his nape. It was a little longer than Edwin liked it. He needed a trim. So did Charles, really; his racing stripes had grown out and he kept having to blow stray curls out of his eyes. But they were saving their pennies any way they could. "You could go do something interesting, something a bit barmy," said Charles. "Something with a bit of adventure, yeah? Or at least where you get to have your nose in interesting books all day. You'd love that."

Edwin sighed, resting his cheek against Charles' shoulder as his eyes drifted shut. "That does sound compelling. But I've rather made my bed, Charles; I��ve no money coming in at all if I don’t study for it. And it is interesting, in moderation. Besides, it..."

"What?"

"It seems... like a decent thing to do." The warm weight of Edwin's arm squeezed Charles' waist. "Something I could do a modicum of good with."

Charles heard a rustle, and glanced over his shoulder. Edwin's other hand was flicking through the law book on the table, clever fingers finding the module he wanted without even checking the contents. Charles had to squint at it a moment, his exhausted eyes skittering off the page. He thought he saw 'human' and 'rights' in that word soup of a title.

He softened. "Eds..."

"I merely thought..." Edwin made a little noise of frustration in his throat, angling his face further into Charles. Speaking so soft it almost got lost in his skin, words lodging small and timid in his bones. "So many years, Charles. Trapped at the mercy of other people, no one caring if we lived or died, I... I could do something about it. Learn the right words to say, the right arguments, the right resources. So no one else need..."

Sometimes it fucking killed Charles, that there were people out there who thought Edwin was some... some selfish, spoiled rich toff with no feelings. As if he wasn't the kindest bloody person in the world; as if he hadn't had to carve that kindness out himself with his bare, bleeding hands.

Edwin sniffed. “It was just an idea,” he mumbled. “A silly idea.”

Charles shook his head, stroked Edwin's hair. "S'not a silly idea, love. Not silly at all."

Edwin never struggled to find his words like this — and he definitely didn’t mumble them. Words were his weapons, and he could go toe-to-toe with the best of 'em, talk bloody circles 'round his opponents.

Charles looked from him to the stack of books, the tower of teabags. The plastic clock on the wall, its hands marching on into the morning.

"Aw, mate," he said, rubbing the back of Edwin's neck — and dropping a kiss to the top of his head. "You're dead on your feet, in’t you?"

"I'm perfectly fine," Edwin grumbled. "And I've tests to study for —"

"Tests in subjects you're not bloody taking? Yeah, right." Charles bit his lip, cuddling Edwin's head against his chest. "Can't sleep, can you?"

Edwin was quiet a moment, breathing nice and steady into Charles' throat.

"It's still... difficult," he said.

Three door bolts and four hundred miles was a start, but bad memories had a way of following you about. Charles closed his eyes and breathed in, nice and slow; hoping Edwin could feel it in his chest, find a nice rhythm in his rising ribs.

"Edwin," he said, nuzzling into his hair. "On my life, mate — one of these days, you and me are gonna be so bloody set you'll be able to do whatever you want. Go back to uni fifty times, hundred times, don't care. Study for the rest of your life, if you want.” He tapped Edwin’s temple. “Cram everything that's ever interested you in that big brain of yours. Promise you."

It shouldn't've felt like taking a bloody knight's oath, whispered words at the kitchen table at stupid o'clock in the morning. But Christ, he'd fought off enough dragons to get ��em here, hadn’t he?

He felt Edwin's smile against his skin, followed by the little dry brush of his kiss. "You could, too. If you liked," he said. "Get your A-levels, apply for university..."

Charles laughed, shaking his head. "Not sure I could keep up."

"Charles," Edwin admonished, in that stern teacher voice that was cuter (and fitter) than it had any right to be. "You're exceptionally bright."

"Ah, come on, mate," Charles mumbled, squirming. Edwin's arm round his waist locked as if it could sense an escape attempt incoming.

"You are. I remember your grades, before... well. Everything that occurred." He smoothed down the collar of Charles' fuck-ugly work shirt. "It's hardly your fault your final years went awry as they did. You could go back, take some courses at the local college. Try again."

"Right, sure."

Edwin huffed, frustrated. "I'm being quite serious, in the event that wasn't obvious."

"When aren't you?" Charles chuckled. He stared at the wall, at the stupid fucking boyband calendar their kooky upstairs neighbour gave Edwin for Christmas. Most of the writing on it was Edwin's, neat and tiny, scheduling tests and lectures and study blocks. Most of Charles' additions were just the word 'WORK', scribbled in on scattered days — more so Edwin knew when he was coming and going, rather than for his own benefit. Always different days, different times. Shift work; no chance to form a routine. He was never great at that, anyway.

"Not even sure what I'd do," he mumbled.

Edwin's palm on Charles' waist rubbed, soothing, grounding. "You never had something you wanted to study?" he asked. "Something you wanted to go into?"

"I..." His brow furrowed. It was so hard to think, sometimes. About times before now. Like all those bloody miserable years just blended into this mush of dread and misery. "I dunno what I wanted," he admitted. "Couldn't... couldn't think that far ahead, could I? I just wanted my mum to be alright. Wanted my dad to think I was worth something. Wanted not to hurt anymore."

He sniffed, and laughed, a watery sort of sound. His arm around Edwin's shoulders squeezed.

"Only thing I ever wanted and got back then was you," he said, flippant, like it didn't really matter. 'Cause it didn't really, did it? Wasn't some big confession or anything. Some deep, dark secret. Edwin knew. They both knew.

But Edwin breathed in sharply, a little ragged round the edges, so maybe he needed reminding now and again. "Charles..."

"Fuck," Charles chuckled, releasing Edwin so he could lean back and rub his eyes — so Edwin wouldn’t have his ear to Charles’ heart when it started beating too fast. "I'm shattered, mate. Dunno what I'm even saying anymore, do I?"

Maybe one of these days, he’d stop being too scared of the fucking size of his own feelings to sit with them a moment.

Maybe they both would.

Edwin sighed, pulling his hand from Charles' waist to pinch at the bridge of his own nose. "I suppose it has gotten rather late." He glanced at the clock, and winced. "Early. You should go and sleep. I'm sure you've had a long day."

Charles hummed, leaving his nice warm spot in Edwin's lap — but his hands didn't leave his shoulders. "C'mon, then," he mumbled, giving them a squeeze. "Bed."

"Better to go without me. I shan't sleep tonight."

"Didn't say anything about sleeping, now, did I?"

Edwin raised his eyebrow.

Charles' brain caught up to his mouth, and he laughed. "Ah — love to, darlin', but. Yeah, seriously, I'm fucking knackered. I meant, like — let's just have a bit of a cuddle, yeah?" He tugged at Edwin's collar where it poked out of his nice green jumper. It was a little crooked — Edwin must've really got into a study groove and unfastened a button or two. Fit as. "I proper fancy a cuddle."

"I'll be restless," said Edwin, all apologetic. "I'll only keep you awake."

Charles hummed, picking up the anthropology textbook and holding it out.

"Keep on reading, then," he said, giving Edwin the big, hopeful eyes he bloody knew he could never say no to. "Just... come read to me instead, yeah?"

Edwin had another dramatic sigh, like it was all such a big ask. He ought to tell that to his fucking smile lines. He took the book — and Charles' hand. "Well. I suppose I can manage that."

~

Charles didn't know how long Edwin stayed awake, in the end. Could've been hours for all he knew, he'd have had no idea — Charles had been asleep in bloody seconds. Head pillowed on Edwin's shoulder, that gorgeous voice rattling off dry old text blocks and making them sound like spoken-word lullabies... how could he resist?

All he knew was when he woke up, it was eleven in the morning, the sun was slanting through the crooked blinds; and Edwin was snoring softly underneath him. His hair a mess, his textbook open on his chest. His arm a slack, warm weight around Charles' shoulders.

Charles smiled, rubbed his dry eyes — forgot to scrub off his eyeliner before he konked out, again. Classic — and settled back in, nestling safe and sound into the the crook of Edwin's arm. Fuck it. It was Saturday. He'd asked Crystal to pick up his shift today, anyway, so him and Edwin could get a little quality time in.

If all they did with that time was sleep, well. Time well spent, innit? It wasn't like a smoke break from life when he did it with Edwin, anyway.

More like... stepping back to enjoy the view.

~~

Thanks for reading my loves, I hope it soothed the ache somewhat 💛 This has been a strange little one because I've essentially had to take something I very much wrote as a one-shot, and build onto what I established. When I wrote that first one-shot I didn't even have a clear idea in my mind for what Edwin was studying or anything! So things will likely change and grow and develop and who knows where we'll end up, but it's nice to see the lads figuring it out alongside me ^_^ Thanks for reading guys! It's been a bit of a long silence from me since Painland Week ended but I promise I'm working on stuff, including the next chapter of Lonely Bones! Regardless of what has happened to the show or whether it gets picked up or not, my plan is to keep writing and creating for it for as long as it sparks joy to do so - and seeing as I've made some amazing friends in this fandom, I think I'm gonna be here a while! I sure hope you guys are, too 💛 (p.s. if you are over 18, trustworthy with semi-secret identities, and like weird rarepair smut, feel free to DM me for my side Ao3 that I'm sure will be getting some action over the next few months xD)

[by-kilian]

Update

Hi everyone! I know I've been pretty quiet on here but I just wanted to let you all know I'm still here.

Few housekeeping things first though!

If you haven't noticed already, my AO3 is still here BUT it is now locked to registered users only meaning you need to have an account if you want to read my works. This is to combat the heavy amount of bots commenting/scraping/and AI shit that fanfic has faced within the last two years. It's only gotten worse as time goes on and it really sucks, because I hate to put my works behind a wall for guest readers. But it's not as if they're gone, they're just tucked away. Still, with that note, I want to recommend that you download my stories if you enjoy them so that you can keep them for personal use. I recommend downloading ANY fics if you enjoy them, but especially now with so much AI stealing going on. I know myself and many other authors are not opposed to scrubbing our works off the internet as much as possible if this goes on, and while I don't hope for that to happen, it's always a possibility so just a heads up to download anything you love (by anyone, not just me!)

I no longer accept anon asks. I am so deeply sorry to those of you who spoke to me on anon and were always lovely and sweet, but it will not be turned back on. I can't be arsed dealing with peoples' shite when all I do is stay to myself and write 😂. However, if you want to talk to me but would prefer a level of anonymity, please send me a message with ❌ <- this emoji in it. I will answer you PRIVATELY, and it will go straight to your tumblr inbox. I speak to one of my readers this way exclusively and it always works really well :), so if you're open to that, feel free to send me an ask. I don't bite.

I do plan to write the epilogue for STH soon but as you can tell, I'm giving myself a bit of a break. Seeing that it is the epilogue, I feel a little more comfortable leaving some time between the update since the story technically has its proper ending, but I do plan to write the epilogue. Just been a bit busy juggling a lot of things at the moment. <3 But when I find time, I will write and post it.

Thank you all for your love and support, hope everyone is doing well and staying safe esp if it's summer where you are!

[hunter-sylvester]

Hi! I’m the anon who wrote the ask about Hunter’s parental issues and about his attachment to Kevin. Thank you for answering my asks, I absolutely love the way you write and how you explain everything! You’re extremely talented!🫶

I honestly didn’t notice how in love Hunter was with Kevin until I watched the movie a second time. It’s crazy how you can literally see all feeling in Hunter’s eyes when he looks at Kevin. I also loved how you said that their relationship fits a BDSM bratting dynamic, because I totally see it.

[and as someone who has ADHD and deals with RSD on a regular, I completely understand him. It sucks.]

Hey 🤘 [prev ask for context] Yeah I obviously couldn’t be 100% sure they were from the same person but it definitely makes the most sense lol

Thank you so much! I’m really glad you enjoy my rambling thoughts about Hunter as a character <3

If you do like my writing, I’m tempted to sheepishly gesture over to my actual Metal Lords fics over on Ao3 if you haven’t checked them out, even tho it makes me feel like a bit of a dick to do so 😅 (They are mostly locked to registered users, blame AI data scraping. The only Metal Lords fic not locked rn is a tiny ficlet. An Ao3 account is free tho 👀)

In any case, I really appreciate that you pushed me to do a bit of analysis again. Because sometimes I tend to forget that all the stuff that lives in my head as “obvious” isn’t always stuff I’ve said out loud on here lmao

There’s a lot to pull from the film if you’re willing to be a bit mentally ill about it.

And you’re absolutely right about the way he looks at Kevin, I mean, it happened enough for me to make a whole ass gifset of it lmao

Look at him. The boy is smitten. Clueless, of course. But smitten.

Which I credit basically entirely to Adrian Greensmith, as it was a vision he had for the character. I really can’t imagine Hunter having been played by anyone else as he brought so much to the role. (Fun fact, if I remember correctly: Noah Urrea, who plays Clay, originally auditioned for Hunter. No harm but I'm very glad he didn't get that. He makes a good Clay and Hunter just needed to be played by Adrian.)

One of the key things Adrian brought to the role also being, probably accidentally, his anxiety.

"I spent a lot of Metal Lords feeling a bit anxious [...] and in hindsight I wonder if some of that was just a sign that Hunter was quite an anxious character [...] I mean his body's so tense all the time." - Adrian Greensmith.

I shortened that quite a bit so I'm including a slightly longer clip of the interview audio for more context. (I can upload a subtitled video clip if anyone wants that as well as link the video on yt but I'd have to do a bit of a search for that)

Aside: If I had to guess I'd say he's probably referring to Peter Sollett who directed Metal Lords when he mentions a 'Pete'.

And yeah the bratting thing was a little bit of a joke but mostly not a joke. Without going absolutely off the deep end, the mentality behind bratting is something I really see in Hunter.

Evie Lupine has a wonderful video about bratting and why people would be interested in it (and why some people hate it) but a short snippet that always spoke to me from that is the following:

"The motivations behind bratting are pretty varied. I think one of the main ones would be a sense of security and comfort. This is when the acting out is sort of a way to be reassured that even when you, break rules, even when you push at things, the partner that you're with is not going to abandon you." - Evie Lupine

Obviously, with Hunter's fear of abandonment, it's easy to see why this would appeal to him.

He also just...idk he has brat energy - sincerely, a brat.

And Kevin does just play out the counterpart to that. He doesn't always have Hunter under control but he tries to.

And he does mostly act as that safe person to brat against, which again amplifies the impact it has when Hunter starts to think he's actually losing Kevin, destroying that feeling of safety.

Aside: I obviously don't think that these characters, in universe, negotiated for a bratting dynamic. In universe it'd be something that just sort of organically developed within their friendship/relationship. But even more than that it's an archetype of a dynamic that we as the audience can easily read into their interactions if that makes sense.

Can you believe the shit they will accidentally put in movies? lmao

And yeah, I have ADHD as well. And RSD is something that affects me pretty fucking severely. I've only really become more aware of it in the past year or so as my partner has pointed it out more and more.

So it's definitely something that I then noticed more and more in Hunter too.

Obviously this is all just my take on the character, and other people might have totally different interpretations. That's the beauty of art, we all get to find what we need in it and read it in our own ways, influenced by our own life experiences.

Thank you again for asking, Anon 🤘 (if you want to use a nickname or smth to identify that you're the same Anon, let me know. If not, that's totally okay too, but I might not always know it's you)

[kanafinwe-makalaure]

Sometimes I think about all the guest kudos I have ever gotten on AO3 and wonder - how many people, maybe people who are new to fandom, have read my fics and smiled? How many people have come to A03 from my Tumblr? Has one of my fics ever been the first fic someone has ever read? Has anyone ever joined fandom because of one of my silly little fics? Read one of my fics on their phone under the dinner table or their desk at school or work?

Probably not. Maybe? I don't know who these people are; now many anonymous "guests" are different people? How many are the same person, reading through all my stuff? How many are people with an account that loved the fic so much they logged out just to leave another kudos?

I just went on AO3 and locked all my fics, making them only available for registered users. No more guests. It makes me sad; it feels like saying goodbye to all these faceless, happy little people who have found my stuff and left behind a fleeting trace of their essence to let me know they read something of mine and it made them smile. (Or cry? I don't know. They're just kudos.) It makes me sad saying goodbye to them, but I don't want the soul of my works, my soul, fed to AI. Mindless, devouring monster without a heart, black cloud of toxic fog darkening the bright horizon.

[alexagirlie]

Behind Enemy Lines

Chapter 3

This is not a new fic but realized I never properly posted it to tumblr just linked to my AO3 which is locked to non-registered users so I am reposting here.

Pairing(s): Sihtric/Bloodhair (ch 1 only) Sihtric/Finan/Uhtred (main) Summary: Things do not go according to plan while Sihtric is undercover in the Danish camp. He is presented with a hard choice and has to live with the consequences. Warnings/Tags: dubcon, rough sex, oral sex, anal sex, forced orgasm, bruises, biting, angst, hurt/comfort, canonical character death, DDDNE

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Sihtric continued to be quiet and withdrawn during the rest of their journey home and he kept himself isolated from the rest of the men. He took his turn at the oar silently and when it was his turn to rest he went right to sleep. No attempt from Finan or Osferth had brought him out of his shell and that was a continued source of serious concern for Finan, especially after the hurt and rage he had glimpsed before.

He couldn't help but wonder if the boy was worried that Finan was mad at him. Mad at him for the deception Sihtric and Uhtred had played on them all. 

Finan could admit to himself that he had initially been a little upset that his lovers felt they needed to exclude him from their plans but the more he had thought about it over the last few days the more he realized how necessary it had been. The reactions of Uhtred's most trusted men would have been scrutinized the most and there had been zero room for doubt. Sihtrics' life had depended on the betrayal being believed by all, the truth could not have been known by anyone. 

Plus it would have been on Uhtred's order that Sihtric had left without letting Finan in on the plan and so if he was to be frustrated with anyone it would be with the Lord. Sihtric would never have defied a direct order, no matter the personal relationship between the three men. He resolved to try and speak with Sihtric again at the next opportunity. 

It was late in the day when the boat sailed to a stop at the dock outside Coccham. There had been no sign of Haeston's men or any other Danes from the camp pursuing them. They also arrived without Finan having a single opportunity to have a private conversation with Uhtred, the witch had not left his side once, and so he took advantage of their walk up to the town gates to say what he could.

He kept pace with Uhtred's hurried strides and started with what was the most pressing question on his mind since he learned where they were headed. "Is the idea that we just walk into Coccham like we've never been away?" It sounded like a stupid idea to Finan but it certainly seemed to be the plan.

"Yes." Uhtred replied in a tone which had just a touch of amusement, he must know Finan would hate whatever his plan was.

"Directly to the hall?" Damn his Lord and his reckless plans. It really was a good thing he was in love with the man.

"Yes." Now Uhtred sounded exasperated at being questioned but Finan pressed on. 

He just knew this was all going to go sideways, he did. "And if another Lord resides there?"

"Then ask him to leave my friend" Uhtred said it like it would be a simple matter of words and not drawn swords and possible bloodshed if another Lord had in fact taken up residence in Coccham after Uhtred was banished. He would probably enjoy a good fight, the bastard.

But Finan was nothing if not loyal to Uhtred and would do what was asked of him, even if it came to a fight "I can do that." He felt a pang of guilt at how that was the exact trait in Sihtric that he had initially been upset about upon learning the younger man's betrayal had been fabricated. They were both loyal to a fault.

Mind back on their most recent misadventure Finan looked over his shoulder at the witch, who was following a few feet behind the two men. Next pressing issue then. "Are we to expect a wedding Lord?"

Uhtred shot him a questioning look.

Finan leaned closer to Uhtred so he could speak plainly without the risk of being overheard. "We did not risk our lives for you to hump the bitch or do you plan to kill her with your cock?" He had better not be planning to fuck her.

Uhtred snorted but Finan was deadly serious and he could see that Uhtred understood that. There had been a price to pay for retrieving her, a price to make sure this curse was gone once and for all and they all knew it. Nevermind whatever secret Sihtric was still keeping from them about his time in the Danes camp.

"The plan is to see my children.'' Well that didn't answer his question at all but Finan had honestly expected them to be the biggest reason they had come to Coccham in the first place instead of back to Aeflefleads estate.

"We should have a private word with Sihtric too. He's not been acting himself since his return and I would like a closer look at those bruises." Finan would make the time to speak to their boy on his own if he had too but he would rather they did it together.

Uhtred glanced over his shoulder at the group of men behind them and must see the same blank look on their lovers face Finan has been seeing. The edge of the bruises on Sihtrics jawline were just visible, still dark and painful looking.

Uhtred turned back to meet Finans gaze, his eyes so very blue in the fading light, and nodded his agreement. "As soon as we can."

The rest of their progression into Coccham went as well as Finan expected, which was not great. First they were greeted by some of the residents who explained that soldiers were sent with instructions to collect food, ale and livestock to be sent to the royal coffers and feed Alfred's army. The amount being loaded into the carts filling the courtyard would deplete most of the town's winter food stores.

Then there were men guarding the entrance to Uhtred's hall, denying them entrance even after Uhtred ordered them to stand aside. It wasn't until Sihtric surprised everyone by being the one to yell at them until they were scrambling to do as they were bid. Their boy almost never raised his voice outside of battle.

Finans favourite part of the whole thing was walking into Uhtred hall and seeing not a new Lord but a table full of priests eating their food and the ensuing confrontation between Bishop Erkenwald and Uhtred over the large wooden cross which had been erected over the entrance.

Finan attempted to diffuse the situation, which did not go over well and just when he thought it was going to come to bloodshed in walked their saviour, the Abbess Hild. The tense peace lasted for about two minutes until Skade knocked the bloody thing from its chains and it crashed to the floor at Finans feet.

Finan awkwardly picked it up and handed it to Bishop Erkenwald. "Sorry Father." He apologized knowing that Uhtred never would. Not about this.

"When you leave you may take half of the food and livestock you have gathered. I understand an army must be fed but my village will not starve." Uhtreds voice was firm and commanding, he would be listened to.

Still Bishop Erkenwald argued "The king will not approve." Finan winced at the mention of Alfred. It would not help the man in this argument, not one bit. 

Finans instinct was proven correct with Uhtred's outburst in response. "The King is a ghost! Nothing more than that!"

The gathered men and priests fell silent and shifted nervously at the Lord's words but with a gentle word from Hild, Uhtred stalked out of the hall and Finan watched him go with a frown. He decided against following and turned towards the tables filled with food in the center of the hall searching for his youngest lover. Sihtric was seated about half way down and was staring intently at the table as he ate and did not see Finans subtle attempt to catch his eye.

Not wanting to draw unwanted attention to the brooding man, Finan decided to leave it for the moment and turned back to watch Uhtred and Hild as they had a discussion in the courtyard. At one point he thought about intervening as Uhtred looked livid at whatever it was the Hild was telling him. His face was red and tense with anger.

Finan sighed deeply and brushed a hand through his beard wearily and pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed tight. While they had avoided bloodshed for the time being this was still looking like a pile of horse shit.

He felt the air move at his side and snapped his eyes open in time to watch Skade breeze out the door, a plate of food clutched in one hand, which she offered to Uhtred.

Finan couldn't hear the words she spoke but he can see from Uhtred's body language that the man was just about done with everyone. "Later!" Chastised, she slunk back towards the hall, sneering at Finan when she noticed him watching her. She said nothing as she passed him back into the hall and slammed the plate onto the table before finding her own seat.

His frown deepened as he noticed Sihtric shifting his chair further away from the witch, her presence clearly unnerved him. 

Movement out of the corner of his eye had Finans attention snapping back to Uhtred and it seemed Hild was done with her scolding and was walking away from Uhtred. 

Time to see what new trouble they were about to get into.

.

.

.

Returning to Coccham after they had successfully retrieved Skade was not the relief Sihtric thought it would be. 

Coccham infested by priests and the witch was still breathing. Sihtric wasn't sure which was worse. At least priests were generally nervous around, if not outright terrified by the young Dane. Everything had gone to shit while they had been away and instead of rest and time to recouver they would need to set off again the next morning.

His wife Ealhswith, who he was responsible for, had returned to Winchester, returned to being a whore because he could not protect her. They may not share a bed anymore, not since his relationship with Uhtred and Finan started, but they were still close and it was his job to provide for her. It was another failure he felt keenly.

The worst part of it all was that Uhtred hadn't killed the witch yet, in fact she had made herself right at home in Uhtred's hall and it made Sihtric sick to his stomach. He stayed clear of her and her eerie, knowing eyes and helped with other tasks wherever he could. He didn't need to remember that she knew exactly what had happened to him in the Dane camp and could tell everyone at any time how he had been forced to whore himself to sell his deception. That he hadn't been quite convincing enough.

So he helped unload the carts which the priests had filled, carefully avoiding being alone with Osferth and especially Finan. He helped with the horses, getting them fed and watered and ready for the journey to Winchester, a chore which hadn't been his for over a year. Anything to keep him away from her and from anyone who may question his behaviour.

He couldn't avoid everyone forever though and later that night Finan finally cornered Sihtric as the young man had attempted to slip away to his room. He had a salve which would help speed up the healing on his bruises. They were still dark on his pale skin and his jaw ached whenever he spoke or ate. He knew his lovers were worried about him but he couldn't handle them knowing the truth.

Finan looked concerned and reached out with one hand, it hovered just above Sihtric arm before he dropped it back to his side without touching Sihtric and it made his heart ache knowing he was to blame for his l9vers hesitation. His lover looked around the hallway and made sure they were fully alone before he said "You've been avoiding me."

Sihtric had been expecting that but he still didn't know what he should say to make it better. "I know… I'm sorry"

"I'm not mad at you for not telling me the plan and I'm sorry for believing it, even for a second." Finans voice was soft and his deep brown eyes shone with sincerity. He meant what he said and it broke Shitrics heart that his lover thought it was his fault that Sihtric had been so aloof.

Sihtric gave him a soft smile that he knew was just a little sad, took one of Finans hands in both of his and kissed him chastely on the lips. "It's not that. I'm just tired…I missed sleeping in my own bed. Was hard to sleep when I was in their camp." It wasn't even a lie. He was exhausted and he knew it showed clearly on his face.

"Do you want company?" 

Another soft smile and an even softer kiss. "I love you but not tonight. I've missed you too much and if I had you beside me I don't think I could just sleep."

Finan didn't look convinced but nodded his agreement anyways "Okay love… if that's what you need." His lover reponded hesitantly and Sihtric couldn't blame him. He had never passed up an opportunity to have one of his lovers in bed with him, even just to sleep, but he could think of no other way to ensure his privacy. He needed to see to his injuries.

They said their goodnight with another lingering kiss then Finan headed back up the hall to where his own room was located without looking back. If he had he would have seen the way Sihtrics face crumpled and he pressed a hand over his mouth to stifle a sob as he hurried into his room and shut the door.

Tomorrow, he thought as he curled up under the furs, tomorrow he needed to get over himself and move past what had happened or they would keep pressing and pressing until he told them and that cannot happen. He could do it. He could.

The next morning came quickly and Sihtric still ached all over despite the salve he had applied over his bruises and the bite mark on the back of his neck. They did look a little better though and he made sure to pack the rest of his supply to bring with him to Winchester. 

As they gathered in the courtyard and got ready to depart, Sihtric made an effort to seem in better spirits. That all he had needed was a good night's rest and now he was back to his normal self.

He pretended his arse didn't burn and the bruises on his hips didnt pull painfully as he mounted his horse. That the pressure of his armour didn't make the bite mark on his back throb in time with his heartbeat or the scabbed over scratches itch.

He even managed to ignore the way Skade was hanging off Uhtred's arm even though the sight made him want to scream and plant his axe in her skull. Forced himself to roll his eyes at a joke one of the men made about where he would find his wife after spouting the fake plan of finding his wife and meeting Uhtred in Mercia for Bishop Erkenwalds benefit.

If he could just keep Finan from seeing his injuries for a few more days, until they had a chance to fade away to nothing. If the witch was dead and buried the next time he would see Uhtred, then everything would have been worth it, that everything would be okay and back to normal. Then he would be okay. He ignored the voice in the back of his kind telling him that was a lie, he would never be okay again.

[ratwars]

WIP Wednesday

This is from my (currently unpublished) spin off from Angel Collective. (Reading AC isn't required though to read this fic, it will still make sense without it at least that is my plan. For background, in this AU universe Fyodor has succeeded in obtaining the book and erasing abilities from existence, but the ability users still live on without their gifts). It is Kunikida-centric with endgame Kunikidazai.

-The way out is through

"The gun safe was secure. It’s appearance was sleek and modern, polished chrome with a fingerprint scanner on the front, behind the double doors of a mahogany wardrobe that helped to hide its existence from the casual eye, should something go terribly wrong to allow casual eyes to even be present in the bedroom it sat in. Of course, electronics could fail, scanners could malfunction, and finger prints could be lifted from other objects if they were left and then faked. Guns could be stolen, and since they were registered they could also be used to frame their owner for all manner of things if the wrong people got their hands on them. That would result in anyone associated with said owner being put at risk, or potentially set up as well, and that was before even considering the terror or despair that may come from the weapons being used.

So it was only prudent to secure them properly, it would be irresponsible to not do so. So when Kunikida lifted the hidden latch on the bottom of the safe, revealing a manual combination lock, and ran his fingers over the dials scrambling the numbers again, checking the latch again to make sure it wouldn’t open, he wasn’t just doing it for himself, he was doing it for everyone else too. When he shut the wardrobe doors until they latched right, he was reducing the risk that his safe was causing by existing. When he closed his bedroom door and turned the key until he was sure that the lock couldn’t be shimmied open without the right skills, he was dealing with the necessary burden of keeping the gun safe for his own protection as well as the agency’s. When he couldn’t remember if the dials were actually left correctly and not stopped partially on the correct code, and he let himself back in to fix the process so it was correct, well that was his responsibility as well. That is how he would explain it if anyone saw what he was doing, he had thought about it plenty of times.

Thankfully he had never had to say it out loud yet. Because no one had been inside of his apartment since the day Yosano had brought him back to his home, three months earlier, after the agency’s guilt was absolved. She had walked with him in silence after he had entered the front door code his apartment, stared straight forward in the elevator just like he had, two arm lengths apart, and done nothing but nod firmly before turning right back around and leaving soon after they had crossed the threshold into his unit, and he said thank you. It was kind of her, Kunikida had thought, to likely go and do the same thing he was about to do away from him. To not put pressure on him to focus on her and hold in what he had been wanting to do, as they left the airport, as they separated themselves from the rest of their coworkers, as they rode together in the car Yosano had driven, that he couldn’t remember how they had come to acquire, and as they made their way from the street into his building, one foot in front of the other, the clicking of Yosano’s heels becoming Kunikida’s focus as he walked the familiar hall to his apartment. He had held it in, until he heard the click of her shoes fade into nothingness from behind his closed door. Until the soft ding from the elevator on his floor signaled her departure, and enough time passed that she had certainly made it all of the way out of the building.

Kunikida screamed."

[wangxianficfinder]

hi mods, hope you're doing well! I have a general question regarding wayback machine: there's a fic I have the link for and found the archived page I want to access- but the fic is locked to registered users only. I made a throwaway ao3 account because I want to log in and read the fic, but I realize that it says wayback machine could see my ip address. would you say it's still safe to log in on the proxy website and risk it, or should I just give up?

I don't really use Wayback Machine so I am not sure. Does anyone know?

- Mod C

---

fundamental-blue: Oh boy. The wayback machine is like a camera taking a picture of a link. It logs it *as it was at the time of viewing*. Meaning, whatever script/bot/person went to that page, was not logged in at the time, and thus the ONLY screenshot it got was of THAT page. Meaning there is no secret access to the fic behind that url. Wayback machine aka archive.org is NOT archiveofourown.org. They're not the same thing, at all.

Which means creating an ao3 account isn't going to do anything on archive.org. OP making an ao3 account will unfortunately do precisely nothing and will not allow OP to access a snapshot of the fic that *does not likely exist anyway*. If OP wants the fic, they should post requesting said fic and see if someone can find it, which they will have much better luck for I think.

[beck-a-leck]

I've been looking for your works on AO3 and it says I have to be a user. It only does that for your stuff. Did you quit or orphaned your fics? Its okay if you did, I understand, but was just wondering.

Hi Nonny,

I have not orphaned my works, they are still there and readable. But I have locked them behind the Membership Only option for the time being, and likely indefinitely moving forward.

In combination of having some problems with spam messages, as well as the recent spate of people stealing fics and feeding them to AI, I feel better keeping my fics viewable only to signed-in members of AO3.

It doesn't solve all problems, and I do miss my guest readers, but it was better and less stressful for me to put the lock on them.

So the good news is, my stories are still there, and they are not going anywhere.

The other good news is that AO3 is free to sign up for and all you need to make an account is an email address, and I think be over the age of 13, as is common for almost every website on the internet. They do have a slight backlog of new users, so you might have to wait a week or so to be able to set up your account once you request an invitation.

But my stories, and a ton of other great stories that have been moved behind the wall for any number of reasons, aren't going anywhere and they will be there and waiting for you when you get signed up.

Until then, though, you're going to get a lot of empty Works lists and result-less searches, because if a writer has their works marked as restricted, they will not show up at all. If you have a direct link, like a bookmark, then I think you will see the message that you must be a registered user to read the story.

It sucks, I know, and it's not an ideal set up, but with people being the way that they are and treating fan-creators like vending machines, other parties and AI basically stealing everything they can get their hands on, it's more BS than I want to deal with. So the restricted lock goes on and I can focus on other things.

[gerec]

hi!! i was wondering if you have any advice for writing darker fics for cherik/this fandom in general, or just comments about your experience? a lot of my writing ends up using most of the major ao3 warnings (i basically write just to sate my need for dark angsty porn ;_;) but i’ve been kind of scared about posting / not sure i should post anonymously...

Hi Anon,

For the most part, I've found this fandom to be pretty chill with dark fics that require the major Ao3 warnings. I write plenty of very dirtybadpornz as you probably know if you follow me/have read any of my work, and I honestly can't recall being hassled for it either here on tumblr or on Ao3. In fact, I get way more critical/negative comments from people who get mad that I'm writing a non-cherik pairing (whether I've tagged a fic as cherik endgame or not lol) or they don't like the direction I've taken a story (again, mostly related to ships).

If you're worried about getting negativity, there are a couple of things I would suggest. One, tag EVERYTHING you can think of within reason - make sure you liberally and correctly tag all the things in the fic that might be an issue or a trigger for a reader. That way, you can rest assured that you've done due diligence in warning people about your story, and if you STILL get people bitching than you know they're just assholes because they were warned and they stepped in your house anyway to complain about your cooking.

(Oh and don't be shy about using the tag 'DEAD DOVE, DON'T EAT' as a warning too I use it a lot lol).

Two - consider using the privacy options to limit who can view and comment on your fic. You can allow only registered users to view your fic, enable comment moderation, or limit who can leave comments on your story. I know a lot of people lock their fics to Ao3 users only so that might be a way to dip your toe in the pool to test things out by restricting access to lurkers on Anon :D

By the way, there's absolutely nothing wrong with posting anonymously (under the Anonymous) collection if you want to; I've done it for certain stories and it's incredibly liberating. The only downside is that if you've built up an audience for your writing then obviously they won't know it's you behind the Anon fic and you might not get those particular hits???

I can't really tell you what is going to work for you, but I can tell you what works for me - I00% just delete hateful shit and don't engage (and you can even block users on ao3 now yay). Write what you want to write and put it out there and the people you're writing for will find it and love it! Don't let any haters scare you (preemptively) away!!!

[eddsworldstuck]

i asked who the space player insert is based on a short while ago and so i still have my space player :)

anyway i should really find a new theme for this blog, huh? especially if i want to make a full comeback. if i do. something other than the old redux theme (despite how much i like how simple it is). i may have already found a new theme to use tho.

i've already edited some things on the blog. i edited some pages.

i am still very tuned in on writing/drawing for specifically game of dice tho (i love the characters and story there more than anything)

[~☆~]

if you're wondering how the story is now (in the time since i posted that art of the 4), i have a whole rough timeline complete. including chapter names. (still unknown if i wanna post the story publicly) by rough i mean it's just short summaries of what happens in each chapter.

i wanted a timeline set (i did that for the old version of the story, it was actually mostly complete) before any actual writing. and i think the timeline is pretty much set. and i wrote part of chapter 1. wrote as in i blacked out after reading some of my old writing and woke up to about 200 words. that then expanded to 900 and counting. what being fueled by wanting to annoy a fave character does to me. and spite. also one of the main reasons for setting a timeline is the theme for act and chapter names i have. and every act and chapter has been properly named :) i think saying some of the chapter names would give things away, but i'll give away the name of Act I: Brand New Days

yes i am calling them acts like homestuck cause i like the stage play terms and how important music and the performing arts are to me and this AU. (plus music is so ingrained into homestuck itself, the fraymotifs [special moves] are musical terms for example). plus the old version had acts too

they're basically like this. the act is broken into parts with chapters. (of course there's more than 2 chapters for act 1)

[~☆~]

if i were to write it in full again and post it, i'd post it to ao3. the old ews story is still there cause i don't want to delete the only archive of the story (aside from it being in my files) but don't read it. don't worry about it. oh god it's so old, don't look at it. i don't even have my fantrolls in it anymore. altho i have put it locked behind view to registered users only to make it somewhat private without getting rid of it. as well as disabled comments. my game of dice fics i've put there are far better, and it's not cause it's my game of dice bias (even tho those are old-ish too and predates the main story. and predates present nea [my game of dice fc])

altho i have did a little editing on a code to help make pesterlogs and memos look so much better than what they originally looked like in the old ews. i just decided to make this ahead of time in case it DOES come back to be posted publicly.

the new code (i just added extra bits in a copy/personal work skin that adds the 6): [AO3]

old (the dark bg is only due to me using a dark skin for ao3 overall)

new (not official logs/just made for testing, also these are the new unique handles for the 4 so it's no longer based on the irls. i hope the inspo for the handles is very obvious. sorry Matt did not speak in the memo, i just didn't know what to make him say. but there was already a lot to type. and by a lot to type i am talking about the code itself, even with copy+paste)

[~☆~]

also i have some ideas for a new icon and header. the ideas i have are heavily persona 3 reload inspired. persona 3, especially reload, is one of the reasons i've thought about this AU again after all. what listening to full moon full life on repeat does to me. maybe the icon tho will be a redraw of the old one. which was from the old cover of when i was planning a comic version of the story. ...maybe i will redraw that cover, hm... who knows lol

[mikaharuka]

Fortunately, I don't really get guest comments, so I was able to set up all my fics to be publicly available for anyone to read (I haven't locked them), but also made it so that only registered users can comment.

That said... I am toying with the possibility of just locking all my fics behind the AO3 sign-in for good, so I don't have to think about these sorts of issues ever again. I also have to second the OP - I'd strongly recommend getting an AO3 account, because I imagine that more authors will lock their fics, blocking any guest access/comments.

The comment bot is evolving 😩

A lot of Ao3 writers have probably encountered these autogenerated compliments at this point. Initially, they were very hit or miss, and if you had a fair sized portfolio, it became quickly obvious that they were autogenerated, following a pattern or completely missing the plot. That’s changing though.

The comment bot is getting more sophisticated. This latest round I got were using the tags on my angsty/emotion-focused fic to tailor the auto-generated compliments. I compared to some I saw on other genres, and it’s definitely going off the tags. Bad news, that whoever is doing this is actively developing and ‘improving’ the bot.

It’s potentially very damaging to new writers. People who initially think this is real, respond honestly and heartfelt, and then later realize it’s a bot, they’ll feel humiliated and discouraged. It’s a cruel thing to mess with people like this. It’s natural to crave these to be real, natural to want a response like this to the writing you poured your heart into.

Even the lucky ones who weren’t fooled and either get enough real validation or don’t crave validation from comments… still have to expend mental energy distrusting every guest comment, sorting through a pile of increasingly realistic bot comments to report and delete them.

So just… vent/psa I guess. To my knowledge, nothing to be done to stop the bot except block guest comments. I encourage guest readers to create Ao3 accounts, these bots aren’t going away, and more and more writers are blocking guest comments or entirely member-locking fics.

A last note, to those who might not know this: You can edit all your Ao3 works at once, disabling or enabling guest comments on all of them.

From dashboard, chose ‘Edit works’ then choose ‘All’ then scroll down and there’ll be an option for comment settings.

[the-witty-pen-name]

Deadbeat Pt. 1

Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

18+ ONLY

Warnings: age gap (reader is 21), smut/masturbation (implied/mild), cursing, abandonment, infatuation, alcohol, cheating, violence?, mild housewife kink? 

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: You work at the bar at the edge of town, the Sheriff is going through a divorce and needs to rent a room. 

A/N: I’m terrible at writing summaries and I’m so sorry about that! I don’t think I would consider this a dark!fic, but it does cover a lot of themes, and topics that are darker than I usually write about- but I think that comes with the territory of writing about Lee Bodecker. I’ll make sure to update the warnings for each chapter and do not read if you are underage. I also ignored canon for this one.

There are no tags on this one, because no one has specifically asked to be tagged on smut fics and I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable!

I hope you all enjoy!

Tags and Requests are OPEN

“Get out of here Lee,” you spat, pointing to the door he just walked into the bar from. “You swore to Janie you wouldn’t touch a drop.” 

“C’mon (y/n),” he said sitting at the bar anyways, a smug grin on his face, making you scoff. 

“I ain’t having anything to do with you breaking your promise to that lovely woman,” you say confirming your point. You wipe your hands on the towel that was hanging from your apron. 

“Jack and coke?” He asks, looking at you with eyes that would be endearingly puppy dog if it weren’t Lee Bodecker. You shook your head. 

“A coke it is,” you say and he gives up trying for now. He regrets telling you on his last visit he’d be swearing off drinking cause Janie finally threatened to throw him out. 

You slide a glass bottle of Coca-Cola down the length of the bar to Lee and he grinds his teeth slightly. The sugar was always his temporary fix. You also sent down his way a small bowl of roasted peanuts, feeling bad for the mess of a man. 

“She’s gonna leave me anyways,” he grumbles and you shake your head, picking up on his attempts to illicit sympathy to coax you into giving him a drop of anything. 

“Stop giving her a reason to Lee,” you point out, gesturing with your hands to emphasize that he was in the same small bar on the edge of town he always wandered into on weeknights. He’d tell Janie he was on duty but he’d really be down in this little box of a building getting drunk as a stunk. 

“She’s the one who gone and cheated,” Lee said in an angry tone, not towards you, just at his situation. “That Miller fellow living a few miles down from me. I see his truck parked outside my house plenty of times to know he’s not just being neighborly.” 

“I’m sorry Lee,” you say with a genuine tone of sympathy. You felt for him and his pain. You knew the stress of the job he led and the pain of knowing the love of your life don’t love you. 

“She’s going to leave me,” he says, staring intently at the condensation on the bottle in front of him. “I’d been trying so hard for her and our marriage and she’s two timing with the neighbor when I’m out working.” 

“And the thing is I don’t even care if she cheated,” Lee continued, “I’d look the other way if I knew she’d be staying with me. But it’s cause I know she don’t love me anymore. That’s what’s hurting me most.” 

“Maybe y’all can work through this-“ 

“This was inevitable,” he says, cutting you off. You don’t point it out, cause he’s clearly distressed but normally you’d have no problem saying to Lee ‘Fuck you, let me finish Sheriff.’ 

“Do you got somebody?” Lee asks you. The question takes you back cause it wasn’t like the Sheriff to ask your about anything personal. He would come in, and you’d shoot the shit, exchange small talk, maybe some harmless flirting for a larger tip, but that was the extent of it. 

“No, not anymore,” you say, having recently broke things off with your boyfriend. “I was seeing Arvin Russell for a couple months, but we just broke it off.” 

“You’re too good for him anyways,” the sheriff scoffed at the mention of the Russell boy and took another swing from his bottle of pop. “How old are you anyways, sweetheart?” 

“Twenty-one,” you respond, not thinking too much about the nickname. He had a habit of frequently using names like that when he talked to the women in this town. You think it started out as a tactic to win re-election and then it just stuck. He nodded. 

“Yeah you two are around the same age,” he said, more so thinking out loud than it being a statement directed towards you. “Why’d you break it off?” 

“Beat up my brother,” you answered, “Granted, the little shit had it coming. Can’t blame Arvin after I heard how the asshole was bothering that sweet thing Lenora. But he just took it too far. Almost killed the kid. The boy saw red so I got myself out of the picture. You can’t be with a boy who does that to your kin.” 

Lee nodded understandingly. You didn’t interpret his actions or questions as genuine concern or interest in you, but that he was just asking you questions to distract from his marital woes. 

“I’d do so many things different if I could be your age again,” he chuckled in a self-deprecating tone. “I’d sure as hell love to turn back time and have myself go down a better path.” 

“It’s not just you, Sheriff,” you reply after collecting money another man sitting at the bar. You nod as a goodbye to the man, and then curse under your breath when he doesn’t tip you. “Asshole,” you mumble, tossing the few pennies into the tip jar. You walk back over to the sheriff and prop your elbows on the bar. “I’m sure everyone is this town wishes the same thing,” you say, trying to make him feel better. 

“I’d love to just be your age again,” he says with a sigh, and then pops a small handful of the peanuts in his mouth. “Young, got your whole life ahead of you.” 

“I’m not sure working in a place like this is setting me up for great things, Sheriff,” you chuckle moving to wipe the bar in the area where that other customer left. “A woman working as a bartender is equivalent to just being a whore according to the eyes of the Lord... at least in this town,” you laugh, using the towel from your apron to wipe the rings left behind on the countertop from the glasses. 

“Arvin didn’t think so,” Lee countered, trying to make you feel a little better about your position. “I don’t think so. Hell, people in this town are so uptight about things that aren’t their business. You’re young, you need a job and you have one. It’s that simple.” 

“I wish more people in this town thought that way,” you reply with a smile. “That new preacher last Sunday-“ 

“Don’t listen to that asshole,” the Sheriff scoffed, and chuckled when your eyes widened at his derogatory words towards the preacher. “He’s a showboating son of a bitch and he’s as phony as they come.” 

“Those ruffled shirts are the most pretentious thing I ever seen,” you say, letting out a big laugh thinking about when he is giving a sermon in what looks like tacky prom attire. 

“Pay him no mind,” Lee said, bringing the bottle to his grinning lips as he looked at you. “You’re a better person than he is.” 

“I appreciate the sentiment,” you chuckle. 

“Have a goodnight hunny,” another customer at the bar says dropping cash on the table as they leave. “Goodnight Sheriff,” the older man tips his hat and then walks out. 

“Have a goodnight Marvin,” you call after him, “Give my love to Loretta!” You clear the empty glass and drop the cash off in the register. 

While you’re moving around, Lee takes a moment to actually look at you. Any man with eyes knew you were pretty, but he ain’t never noticed before just how attractive you were. His eyes lingered for a moment at how the canvas waist apron extenuated your figure. He couldn’t believe this stunning young thing was stuck in a place like this with a dead end job talking to a deadbeat like him. 

“How long you staying for Sheriff?” You ask suddenly, pulling him out of his trance. 

“Uh, not sure,” he says, looking up at the dingy Luger Beer clock that hung on the wall. “Why sugar?” 

“Seeing as though your sober I was hoping I could trouble you for a ride home?” You ask shyly. 

“Of course,” he said without hesitation. “No trouble at all honey.”

“Thank you, Lee,” you say with a smile, making his heart skip a beat. 

He’d talk to you most weeknights and never had this feeling. Maybe he had but he was too wrapped up in his own troubles to notice it. You were such a sweet girl, and he realized what an injustice it truly was for you to be stuck here. 

The thought crossed his mind very quickly about if he wasn’t married- even though he knew divorce was coming around the corner any day now. If he had met you at a different time in his life if it would’ve been better. Instead of meeting you as an overweight, deadbeat of a sheriff which a drinking problem- he’d met you when he was fresh out of school, same age you are now. You all coulda fallen in love, started a family, and that would’ve been enough to keep him from taking up drinking in the first place. 

He knew from the beginning Janie ain’t ever loved him. Hell, he’s not sure if he ever loved her thinking back on the whole relationship. Lustful, without any sort of promise behind it and they both were users. They used each other. He knew he treated her poorly as poorly as she treated him. He definitely had loved her, that much he knew was true, but now she’s cheating- something Lee never thought of doing at all no matter how many fights they had until the early morning hours.  

As you maneuvered around behind the bar, locking up the liquor and wiping down the machines getting ready to lock up for the night, his mind played little tricks on him. The canvas apron was instead a pinafore, and the bar was his kitchen. He’d loved the sight, thinking about coming home to you instead of what was soon to just be an empty house. 

Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he’d even be the one to keep his house. The idea of finding a new house- buying one for you, and being able to start over sounded like a dream life. Hell, he’d run away from this town right now if you said the word. He’s sure he could secure an election in another town, he had the connections to make it happen. 

“I just got to lock up the office and I’ll be ready to go,” you say, untying your apron. He gulps and nods as confirmation. You disappear in the back room, cash drawer in your arms to lock away in the safe. He heads behind the bar to dispose of his empty bottle and the cardboard tray his peanuts were in. 

You come back, your peacoat buttoned and the sash tied around your waist in a bow you had made. You had a small handbag in one hand, and your work apron in the other. Suddenly, he was nervous and didn’t know how to carry himself around you. Undeniably, the Sheriff was developing a crush. He couldn’t shake the feeling. He wanted to ask you out on a proper date, but he knew with his age and reputation- it wouldn’t be fitting. He was moving way too fast in his own mind to keep up with. Just daydreams, he thought to himself, suppressing the thoughts of a future with you for now.

“Okay,” you said, giving the place one more once over to make sure it was all set. “That does it.”

“After you,” he said, holding the door open for you. You giggled, and once you both were outside, you used your key to lock the front door. He held the door open for you to take the passenger seat in the cruiser. As you buckled your seatbelt, he walked over to the driver’s side and then slide into his seat.

You were a little nervous. You weren’t sure why. This wasn’t the first time you’d asked for a ride home. Usually, it’s never this late. When you close, you usually walk home alone. You definitely didn’t live that far, but again that was more dangerous than getting a ride home.

You realized that you were worried about nothing. You thought maybe some would accuse you of something scandalous, getting a ride home from a man so late. However, this was the Sheriff and the streets didn’t have another car on it at all. The town knew where you worked and if anyone were to see you, they’d know you were closing shift and you asked for a ride to avoid walking home this late alone.

“Thank you again,” you said, starting up a conversation as the sheriff was backing out of the tiny lot that was next to the bar.

“Oh, don’t mention it, hun,” he said, “It’s my job to make sure you get home safe. Your house is the white one at the end of Birch?”

“The very one,” you say, looking out the window. There aren’t any street lights, and the only light for miles is coming from the headlights of the cruiser. You don’t catch Lee stealing glances at you as he starts moving forward.

“How’s your ma doing?” He asks, making conversation.

“Oh, she left,” you said nonchalantly, and it makes Lee’s eyebrow raise in confusion.

“Wait. What?” He asks looking over at you for a second before turning his eyes back to the road.

“Oh, I thought you would’ve heard,” you say softly, your façade of indifference torn down. “She left us about a month ago. Met a man from Columbus and moved in with him. The whole town was talking about it for weeks.”

“So, is it just you and Tommy now?” he asks, wondering what kind of a mother leaves her girl to take care of her high school aged brother on what she makes at the bar.

“Oh, he went with her,” you explain, “House is all mine. After the whole thing with Arvin, she decided to pull him out of school and he goes to school in Columbus now. She wasn’t gonna bring him but after that, she changed her mind.”

“They just left you?”

“I chose to stay.”

“No offense but why would the hell would you chose to do that?” he jokes, making you laugh a little.

“It’s all paid off, and my grandpa left it to me and not her anyways,” you explain. “House has been in my name for three years now. And if we sold the house, she’d just piss the money away. Besides, would you move back in your mother now, Sheriff?”

“No, I can’t say I would want to,” he chuckles.

“So, I’m just supporting myself and that ain’t too bad,” you shrug.

“Sounds lonely,” he comments and you nod in agreement.

“It can be,” you admit, as he turns down your street.

“You ain’t worried living alone?” He asks.

“You tell me, Sheriff,” you joke, “If I got something to worry about it sounds like you’re not doing your job.”

“Ouch,” he says and holds a hand clutching his hand to his heart dramatically. It made you laugh, and it made him smile that he made you laugh. God, he loved your laugh.

“Thank you again, Lee,” you say sincerely, quickly kissing his cheek when he parks in front of your house. The gesture takes him back, and he’s relieved you can’t see how red his face is. He’s almost angry at how flustered you make him and you have no idea. “Have a goodnight,” you say.

“Goodnight, (Y/N),” he says, a little shakily. You get out of the car, and he watches you walk up to the porch, your hips swaying naturally, and he bites his lip. He groans, but at his disappointment in himself for staring again. You disappear behind the front door and he hits his palm on the steering wheel, trying to shake whatever feeling this was.

He reluctantly drove home, not wanting to have to talk or see Janie. He knew he was just heading home to a fight for being out so late, even though he knows she takes full advantage having fucking Miller over. His jaw is locked, angry about a fight he hasn’t even had with her yet. His cheek still tingles from your touch, and he thinks about if he should just leave Janie. He could just leave, get an apartment nearby or something. He doesn’t even care if she gets the damn house. He’s bracing himself for another night of fighting as he pulls into his own driveway and heading up to his own house.

He fumbles with his keys in the dark. He thinks he had the right one, but it doesn’t work. He tries another that is the same shape, still doesn’t work. He intakes a sharp breath and tries the first key again- he’s positive that’s his house key. “Fucking Christ,” he mutters when the key won’t even go into the lock. “Janie!” he shouts, pounding on the front door. She changed the locks.

“Fuck,” he exclaims, stomping down the front steps and walking around to the back door. He tries his keys again with no luck. He pounds into the door hard and incredibly loud. He knows she’s there, upstairs in their bed, ignoring his knocks. He tries the kitchen window, but it’s locked. Every window on the first floor is fucking locked. He curses again and heads back to his cruiser. He slams the door shut and his grip on the wheel is turning his knuckles white. Does she expect him to sleep in his car in the driveway?

He doesn’t even think about where he’s going to go, but he knows damn sure he’s not going to give her the satisfaction of sleeping outside of his house in his cop car for the whole town to talk about. He just pulls out of his driveway and starts driving. He isn’t even thinking about what route he’s driving, it’s like he’s driving on autopilot while he screams out every curse word in existence.

By the time he calms down, he realizes he’s driving down Birch again. His muscles in his body tense, and he thinks back to your conversation when he dropped you off. Your mother and brother were gone, meaning you have two spare bedrooms. He knows he shouldn’t but the temptation is way too overwhelming. He has nowhere else to go. If someone saw his car… well, he’d worry about that tomorrow. Your house is two miles away from your nearest neighbor, settled back at the end of a long dirt road. Someone knowing he was there was unlikely. He had people who could save your name. It was all innocent. Janie kicked him out and he knew you had an extra room. Hell, he’d rent a room from you- Wait. That’s perfect. That solved all of his problems and yours. He knows you were downplaying how hard it must be to keep up with the house and by him paying rent, you could take care of the house. It was a win-win.

He felt so confident now and he was so proud of himself for devising this plan. He parked his car out front and then walked up to your front door, knocking gently. The sound of the knock made him now incredibly nervous. He didn’t want to scare you or for you to think he was trying to take advantage. Granted, there would be a lot more than financial benefits to being able to live with you, which he knew were selfish, but the idea of being able to see you everyday was overwhelming. It was the closest thing to the dream he was wrapped up in back at the bar. He could live out his little pretend domestic bliss, and you’d get the money you need for the house. He knew he was insane and this was probably wildly inappropriate, but he knew you were too kind to turn him away.

You opened the door with a small yawn, a yellow bathrobe secured over your nightgown fully, to keep yourself decent when you answered the door. You were going to call the Sheriff when you heard the rapping at your door so late and ignore the knocks, but looking out the window of your bedroom you saw it was Lee’s cruiser parked outside.

“Lee?” you ask quietly, sleepiness very evident on your mumbled voice.

“Janie kicked me out,” he said softly, “Changed the locks on me. Darling, I’m so sorry for intruding but I have no where else to go.”

“Come in,” you say sympathetically, the news waking you up quite a bit. “Lee, I’m so sorry. You can take my mom’s old room; it’s got an attached bathroom you can use too.”

 “Thank you (Y/N),” he says quietly. You close the door and secure the lock and the chain again as he looks around the house.

“Don’t worry about it,” you insist. “I can take you there. Follow me.”

You walk up the stairs, Lee following closely behind and he’s ashamed that he took the opportunity to just openly check you out again. At the top of the stairs there was a hallway lined with photographs in mismatched frames. You point to the door at the end of the hall.

“That’s the master,” you explain, “There’s a bathroom attached inside if you want to clean up or anything. There’re clothes in the dresser if you want pajamas- should be in the bottom drawer.”

“Okay, thank you,” he replies, looking down at you as you yawn again, and he notices how your hair is a little messy. The sight drives him wild.

“Anything in the kitchen is up for the taking to,” you offer.

“Look, (Y/N),” he says, “I know this isn’t the best time to be talking about this, but I really need a more permanent plan on where to go. I know it sounds crazy and out of the blue, but could I rent that room from you? Name your price. I figured… I really need a new place, and you could probably use another source of income to keep up with the house. Plus, it’s safer than living alone…”

“Um…,” you begin to speak, but you bit your lip, showing that you’re intently thinking about his offer. Everything he said was right. You needed the money, and he was right that living alone was dangerous in this town and living with the sheriff is the safest person there was in the whole town. People would talk, of course, but no one would deny that the circumstances were just ideal for the two of you and nothing more. You were an adult, a homeowner, and it was your business who you rented a room too. “Yeah, I think that makes sense for both of us,” you agree. “We’ll sort out the details tomorrow.”

“Of course,” he says with a smile.

“Alright, um,” you say crossing your arms around your chest awkwardly. “Goodnight, Lee.”

“Goodnight, (Y/N),” Lee responds as you head back into your own bedroom. He let’s out a heavy sigh and heads into your mom’s room- or rather his new room. He’d have to figure out how to get his stuff back from Janie tomorrow. He’d really just need his clothes and some other necessities. 

The room was fairly spacious. There was a closet and dresser. The closet still had some clothes of your mom’s left behind, and for the most part, the room looked fairly intact. It was like she up and left with just a few things. Lee shook his head, angry at how poorly you were treated by your mother. He pulls off his leather jacket, tossing it and his hat onto the bed. He opened up the bottom drawer of the dresser, and just like you said, it was filled with men’s clothing. He concluded they had to belong to the man your mom lived with now, more things just left behind.

He tosses a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt onto the bed, and then he heads to the bathroom.

In the drawer beside the sink, he finds a new toothbrush still in its packaging, that he opens for himself and drops it in the white toothbrush holder on the counter. The towels are all clean and folded neatly on the shelf above the toilet. He finds a new soap under the sink as well, and decided he needed a shower to just wash off everything of tonight off in hopes he’ll feel better.

He strips of his uniform, folding it nicely knowing he’ll need to wear it all again tomorrow morning. He steps into the shower and turns on the water. The hot water just immediately helps him to loosen the muscles that had been so tense. He lets the warm water run down his face and back, just letting himself enjoy the feeling. He lathers up his body with soap and then it finally hits him that he was here, living with you, and then suddenly he’s hard.

“Fuck,” he mutters, resting his head against the shower wall, the running down his back. He was in so much trouble he realizes. As he beats himself off in the shower, his mind is clouded with thoughts of you. The way the apron at the bar looked around your hips, and the smell of your perfume when you leaned into him. The way your body looked as you paraded yourself around behind the bar. The way you have no problem talking back to him when he walks into the bar after saying he’s off the bottle the night before, just making want to shut you up with a rough kiss. The feeling of your lips on his cheek and he imagines your lips on his neck. He thinks about how your hair looked tousled when you just showed him to his room. He lets himself slip back into that same domestic daydream. You being his wife… married to you instead dealing with this goddamn divorce. The absolute sickening sweet domesticity making him groan, as he imagines his hand is yours. Why on earth did he think he’d be able to do this?

PART TWO

[thevulcanbobdylan]

I got inspired by a post about overly-specific AU fic, and I couldn't stop until I'd written Laura and Bill doing what I do for a living - well, plus a lot of smut.

Gods help me if my partner ever sees this and thinks I want to bang anyone at my job 😂

Anyway. I give you... Code Review.

After a deep enough dive, it was honestly almost beautiful - a near-textbook implementation of Chain of Command, if you zoomed out a bit. She had to admit it made sense for the feature. The main issues could be chalked up to naming and organization.

***

Laura buried her face in her hands, pushing her glasses up into her already-tousled hair. She'd been stepping through code for an hour, and had only just understood what she was looking at.

But truthfully, any junior engineer who got lost in this mess would need the Gods on their side. No design pattern was worth writing something this difficult to grok - especially since it hid what she now saw was a stupidly simple bug.

She didn't need a git blame to tell her whose code she'd just spent all morning reading, but she did it anyway. In the annotated view, the entire file was marked "w_adama". No surprise there.

"Put a comment on it, for frak's sake," she muttered, with a conspiratorial glance at the rubber duck that peeked out from under one of her monitors. "And use a damn verb once in a while."

She rubbed her eyebrow where she could feel the beginnings of a headache, and took a swig from her coffee mug - and got a mouthful of grounds for her trouble. She pulled a face and glared into the empty mug. How long had she been sitting here, anyway?

She replaced the mug on her desk and watched the swirling pattern of LEDs on her mechanical keyboard for a moment. She'd finally understood the bug, which was half the battle - but deciding how to fix it was going to take an entirely different headspace. A total refactor would be heavenly, but there was no chance of finding the time to do it herself.

The sound of blue switches suddenly registered in her awareness, and she decided it was time for a break. Locking her screen, she stood up from her desk, eyes sweeping over the clicky keyboard offender at the standing desk behind her. The Overengineer himself. She hoped her face didn't give away her annoyance. Actually, frak that - she hoped it did.

She was at the coffee machine in the kitchen when he sidled up behind her.

"I couldn't help hearing you cursing under your breath," he said good-naturedly. "Tough bug?"

"No, actually," she replied, letting a little condescension into her tone. "It was something stupid. But I had a hell of a time finding it."

"Well, that's how they always are," he said, shouldering past her to filI his own mug.

It was a cliche, and she forced a mirthless chuckle that came out more like a grunt. Fingers wrapped pensively around her cup, she gave him a sidelong glance while he was focused on the coffee maker. The sleeves of his t-shirt, splashed with the logo of a metal band, were taut around his muscular biceps. It was a shame, really, that so much attractiveness was wasted on someone who made such a mess of the code.

Frak it. Her brain was too fried to get any more work done, and she felt like arguing. "It was in your code, actually," she said.

"Oh yeah?" He looked up at her with a charismatic smile, but she thought she read a hint of annoyance in his eyes. Good.

"Yeah. It was in that godsawful Chain of Command pattern you made for querying the user preferences." She made sure he saw the smirk on her face before she turned and flounced out of the kitchen, half hoping he'd take the bait and follow her.

She was halfway down the hall when she heard his voice behind her: "And what, exactly, is so wrong with Chain of Command?"

She stopped and turned, stepping slightly into the closed doorway of the server room to let someone else pass. "Nothing at all," she said, "when it's used appropriately."

She knew she was in dangerous territory now - both because she was criticizing him, and because she was flirting with him. She stood against the door, letting her posture accentuate her breasts under her v-neck shirt. She wasn't sure whether he'd respond to the flirting or the criticism, and she also wasn't sure she cared. Either way, it beat going back to her desk to refactor his mess.

When he stepped close to her, his intentions were all too clear. "Maybe you can describe exactly where I went wrong," he growled.

"I'd be happy to," she parried. Then she almost yelped when he opened the door and she fell backward. She caught herself, none too gracefully, as he slipped inside and shut the door behind him.

For a moment, they both looked around. Nobody came in here very often - on-prem hosting hadn't been a thing for a while, and the server room was really more like a glorified closet. There was an old desk against the wall just behind Laura, and without further ado, Bill shoved her up against it. Spare keyboards and mice clattered to the floor and Laura laughed, a little nervously, at the sound.

Then she forgot to care. Bill's face was inches from hers. "You were saying?" he challenged. His hands were sliding, ever so slowly, up her ribs.

"You used the pattern for its own sake," she breathed, letting her lips brush against his.

He nuzzled his face into her neck, somehow - impossibly - going straight to that spot that sent chills through her limbs. "It's called futureproofing," he grumbled into her flushed skin. "You should try it sometime."

"It's called overengineering," she countered, letting her thigh slip between the baggy legs of his basketball shorts.

"So you just want us all to write procedural code?" Most of the men wore full beards, but Bill sported just a shadow of close-trimmed stubble. She much preferred this, Laura mused, as his rough face trailed kisses downward and she found him nipping lightly at her collarbone.

"I certainly don't want us spending time solving problems we don't have," she said breathlessly.

"I can solve one problem right now," he quipped, and he lifted her roughly onto the desk, hiking her long maxi skirt up around her hips.

"Here's hoping you won't overengineer this," she said, laughing as she wrapped her bare legs around him.

"Oh no," he said seriously, "this time I'm going to get right to the point." He pushed her panties aside and swirled one finger around her clit, drawing a gasp from her.

The heat that flushed her face found its way between her legs and she found herself throbbing with desire. She shoved his shorts and boxers down enough to let his erection spring free, and took it in her hand. Then she wrapped her legs tighter around his back, drawing him into her center. Never stopping his attentions to her clit, he pulled back to meet her eyes with a smoldering gaze before burying himself in her.

She moaned a bit louder than she meant to, leaning back to support herself on her hands, and smashing the keys of a cheap chiclet keyboard in the process.

His rhythm picked up speed, and she watched raptly as he continued to stroke her. Her toes began to curl and she marveled at how quickly he drove her to the edge.

Unexpectedly, he grasped her by the back of the neck and pulled her into a rough kiss. His lips crushing hers were the last straw, and she shuddered as her orgasm crashed through her. He wasn't far behind, grunting and squeezing his blue eyes shut as he poured himself into her.

When their motions slowed to a stop, he leaned in and placed a quick kiss on her jaw. Then, without looking at each other, they hurriedly went about the business of straightening their clothes. Unable to control her smirk, Laura peeked out into the hall. It was deserted.

As she slipped out and headed back to the dev room she heard his voice behind her, softly: "thanks for the code review."

She turned around, letting a smile tease her features. "Maybe we can do it again next sprint."

She realized, to her satisfaction, that he looked a little speechless.

Back at her desk, she was already immersed in code when she heard the clacking of his keyboard resume. With a slow, languid smile, she put on her headphones to drown it out.

[alexagirlie]

Behind Enemy Lines

Chapter 6 - Epilogue

This is not a new fic but realized I never properly posted it to tumblr just linked to my AO3 which is locked to non-registered users so I am reposting here.

Pairing(s): Sihtric/Bloodhair (ch 1 only) Sihtric/Finan/Uhtred (main) Summary: Things do not go according to plan while Sihtric is undercover in the Danish camp. He is presented with a hard choice and has to live with the consequences. Warnings/Tags: dubcon, rough sex, oral sex, anal sex, forced orgasm, bruises, biting, angst, hurt/comfort, canonical character death, DDDNE

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 - Epilogue

Several weeks had gone by since that fateful night in Winchester and a lot had happened since. Alfred's death, while expected, had still dealt a heavy blow to the people of Wessex, and to Uhtred personally, who had finally reconciled with the pious monarch. Edwards triumph against the danes forces lead by Cnut, Haeston and Brida and his proceeding coronation, marking a new age for Saxons.

During that time the Sihtric, Finan and Uhtred had worked hard at repairing what Skade had tried to break. There were many days spent in discussion and contemplation as they worked through their feelings around what had happened. About Gisela's death and the blow that was to Uhtred. How the two men had felt cast aside as Skade's hold over Uhtred had grown stronger and stronger. How he had ignored their advice and protests at his decisions. 

And they especially discussed what Sihtric had done while in the dane camp. What had happened to him. Eventually he was ready to open up about all the emotions that it had brought out in him. How he felt he couldn't tell them for fear they would be ashamed or disgusted by him for what he did.

They made sure he felt heard and loved and they reassured him that what he had been forced to do did not change their view of him in the slightest.

They shared a bed as often as they could but had not been intimate with each other, or at least Sihtric had not been with them, he was sure the other two men had humped without him.

He never asked and they never pushed for anything more than cuddles and kisses.

Today though, he woke up hard and wanting like he hadn't for weeks, with no lingering nightmare or memories haunting him. His cock ached and was already leaking a wet mess onto the bed.

Their lord was pressed between his two men and Sihtric carefully climbed over him so he could straddle Uhtred's lap and pressed soft kisses across his face and down his neck, moving down to take a pebbled nipple in his mouth and sucked. Uhtred moaned and arched into the feeling of Sihtric mouth and the younger man nipped harder before he sat back up with a grin playing on his face. Uhtred blinked bleary-eyed up at him and Sihtric grinned harder before grinding his arse back against the hardening cock below him. 

Uhtred groaned loud and raspy with sleep, the sound causing the still sleeping Finan to stir and roll over and bury his face in Uhtred's shoulder. "Whaaa…" he groaned and Sihtric couldn't help the chuckle the action pulled from his throat. Finan never was much of a morning person.

He braced a hand on Finan's shoulder and used it to balance himself as he shimmied further down Uhtred's body until he could get at what he really wanted. The other two men would catch on eventually.

"Sihtric?" His lord's voice was pitched in a whine but Sihtric ignored him and chose to mouth at Uhtred's pretty cock instead. He had missed the taste and the musky smell and he groaned as his senses were flooded with both.

Gentle hands slid into his hair and brought his attention up and he met darkened blue eyes. Uhtred's pupils were blown wide but Sihtric could still see the worry in them.  "Are you sure?"

He nodded as best he could with his mouthful and kept working at Uhtred's cock. He felt the press of a vial against his arm and he pulled away from Uhtred's cock long enough to take the oil Finan passed him and accepted a devouring kiss from the Irishman which he returned eagerly. 

Sihtric parted from Finans lips with a slick slide of tongue and returned to his task of opening Uhtred up around his fingers. He had missed this too. The feel of his lover's warm tightness around his fingers, the pleasure he takes as that ring of muscles open and stretch, working up to three or four fingers and making them squirm and moan and scream.

He worked Uhtred up to four fingers and fuck him with them as he sucked his lords cock into his throat. He wanted, no needed Uhtred to cum like this first before Sihtric fucked him. Needed to taste him and swallow down everything Uhtred could give him. 

He knew Uhtred was close, his hands had tightened in Sihtric's hair to just the right edge of pain. He was rocking his hips down into each press of Sihtric fingers inside his arse and the sounds, oh the whines and filthy begging words were like music to his ears. He pumped his fingers harder and sank his mouth down as far as he could until Uhtred's cock hit the back of his throat and he swallowed around his girth and stayed there. He moaned as his head went foggy from lack of air and that seemed to be the final bit Uhtred needed to spill. Sihtric's mouth was flooded with thick salty liquid and he swallowed as much as he could before he pulled off Uhtred's softening cock with a cough.

He panted wetly against Uhtred's hip, swallowing thickly as he tried to get his breath back. 

"You alright there luv?" Finan's accent was thick with his arousal and Sihtric shivered as the sound sent a shiver down his spine and right to his own leaking cock. His warm hand ran down Sihtric back soothingly.

Sihtric sat up and nodded at Finan. "Oh yes." His own voice was hoarse and raspy, his throat felt well used and he loved it. He looked down at his lord and licked his lips at the sight. Uhtred had his eyes closed and his chest was still heaving as he recouvered from his orgasm. He was pink from cheeks to collar bones and his legs were sprawled open wantonly. "Are you ready for me lord?"

Uhtred moaned and nodded his head vigorously and he opened his eyes to meet Sihtric's gaze. His pupils were blown so wide that only the tiniest sliver of blue remained. "I'm ready for you, love."

Sihtric found his place between Uhtreds thighs and pressed them even further apart, hooking one over his shoulder and the other around his hip. He lined his cock up to Uhtred's red, puffy rim with one hand and pushed until the head of his cock popped in. They all moaned as he sank inch after glorious inch into the well stretched heat. Uhtred's body welcomed him in easily, and it took no time at all until Sihtric's cock was buried to the hilt.

He had to pause and breathe, his bottom lip caught between his teeth and he tried not to come right away as Uhtred clenched and squirmed around his cock. 

Uhtred flashed a cocky smirk up at Sihtric. "You going to fuck me, my good boy?" 

Sihtric moaned and bit down on the leg he had braced over his shoulder. He pulled his hips back and then thrust forward, hard, before Uhtred could make another teasing remark. It also served to wipe that smirk right off the lord's face, instead replacing it with a slack-jawed look of pleasure. 

Sihtric fucked Uhtred slow but hard, using Uhtred's legs wrapped around him as leverage to pull him back into each thrust. Each slide of his cock into Uhtred's body  forced a punched out moan from the lord's throat that made lust coil in the pit of Sihtric stomach.

Finan was a comforting, warm weight at his back as he fucked their lord. His chest pressed to Sihtric's back as the Irishman left marks from his teeth and beard burn on Sihtric's neck and shoulders. He reached around Sihtric and wrapped an oil slicked hand around Uhtred's cock and jerked him off as Sihtric fucked him harder.

Uhtred got louder as he did and after a few strokes, he tensed up around Sihtric's cock and orgasmed hard, splattering Sihtric's chest, Finan's hand and his own stomach with thick ropes of white. The feeling of his arse getting even tighter around Sihtric's cock was too much for the younger man and he couldn't help but follow Uhtred over the edge with a groan of his lord's name.

Sihtric pulled his softened cock from Uhtred's well used hole as gently as he could and flopped down to the bed, on his back at his lord's side and just laid there. Body shaking and dripping with sweat. He looked up at a smirking Finan as the older man knelt between Sihtric's and Uhtred's legs. His face was red under his beard and his hair was sticking up wildly with sweat.. He looked wild and Sihtric loved it.

Sihtric grinned up at him. "Give me a minute, then I want you to fuck me."

Finan’s face went serious. "You sure love?"

Sihtric nodded and stretched his arms above his head, enjoying how Finans eyes darkened as he took in all the pale sweaty skin on display. "Fuck me Finan."

Finan needed no further prompting and moved between Sihtric's legs and pressed them open until he could mouth at the mess of cum and oil which still coated Sihtric's semi hard cock. Sihtric moaned as the sharp pleasure of oversensitivity shot up his spine. He pressed his head back into the furs and panted at the ceiling.

Each pass of Finan tongue was the sweetest torture as the painful edge melted away and just pleasure remained as Sihtric's cock began to harden again. He moaned and canted his hips up into the next press of Finan's mouth. "Please Fin.."

Finan bit down on his hip, hard and pulled a breathless gasp from his throat and his cock twitched and weeped. Finan sat back with a wink at the younger man and reached for the oil and Sihtric watched eagerly as he slicked up his fingers and pressed two against Sihtric rim and paused. "Ready?"

Sihtric smiled up at his eldest lover and his chest ached with love. He spread his knees wide, exposing his hole to Finan's hungry gaze "Ready."

Sihtroc thrilled at the sound Finan let out at his teasing, a mix between a growl and a groan. Message well and truly received he wasted no more time and pressed his fingers past Sihtric's rim and sunk them both into the first knuckle. Sihtric gasped at the stretch and moaned loudly before he rocked his hips down, trying to get Finan to push more in. 

Finan obliged and quickly worked the first two fingers all the way in. Sihtric's mind went pleasantly hazy as Finn  worked him open around those two fingers, then three then to Sihtric impatience a fourth until he was fucking Sihtric with them, hard. The older man had always been thorough when opening his lovers up and this time was no exception. In fact Sihtric's lust-addled brain  suspected the Irishman was being even more excruciatingly careful, as though trying to erase any bad memories which might be lingering.

He needed not worry as all Sihtric could think about was the feeling of getting Finan's cock inside him. The Irishman's fingers brushed against that bundle of nerves inside of Sihtric that made pleasure race down his spine and pulled an embarrassingly loud whine out of his throat.

"I'm ready, I'm ready! Please fuck me Fin!"

By this point Uhtred had recouvered enough from his own thorough fucking that he had rolled over and attached himself to Sihtric's side and tangled one hand up in Sihtric's hair and pressed several searing  kisses along his neck and shoulders. 

Sihtric tilted his head back to give his lord more room and whined again as Finan finally pulled his fingers free and lined his rock hard cock against Sihtric's stretched rim.

It felt so good as he pressed his cock past Sihtric rim and sank inch by mind numbingly glorious inch of his impressive length in until he was buried to the hilt and Sihtric trembled with how much wanted the other man to move. Sihtric missed the feeling of getting fucked and Finan's cock was thick and perfect inside of him. He whined and rocked his hips until Finan gripped him by the hips and started to move.

Sihtric's mind went pleasantly blank with arousal as Finan began to fuck him, nice and slow at first until the younger man was forced to beg. Sihtric didn't even know what words were spilling from his mouth, all he knew was that he needed it harder and faster and he wanted to cum so badly.

Suddenly Finan changed the angle of his thrusts and his cock began to strike the bundle of nerves inside Sihtric over and over and before Sihtric knew it he was tensing up and spilling again without a single touch to his cock. The world exploded in white behind his tightly clenched eyes and it took an embarrassingly long time until he came back to himself. 

He felt Uhtred chuckling and forced his eyes open so he could look over at Uhtred and he could see a splatter of cum sliding down the lord's cheek. He flushed red as Finan leaned over his body and licked the white liquid from Uhtred's face before taking the lord's mouth in a devouring kiss. 

He barely noticed when Finan slid his still hard cock out of his hole, his mind still racing and fuzzy with the feeling of his orgasm. He did notice when Finan groaned, deep and animalistic as the man took his own cock in hand and pumped, once, twice, before his own spend joined the cooling mess already coating Sihtric's chest.

[dysphorie]

i'm sorry!!! i prefer being on anon 'cause i don't wanna get too involved, it's fine if you don't wanna reply to this , i just want to know your reasoning

*sigh* i get your reasoning but y’know, it gets kinda tiring being one of the only ones willing to stick their neck out to protect people's right to not be censored. Like why should I be the only one out here losing followers because others hide behind being on anon?

Anyway to put it bluntly, my reasoning is: fiction doesn't hurt anyone, and it's an outlet for people to get out the ideas they have nowhere else to put. Like i don't see people condeming the bands we all listen to for writing songs about rape and necrophilia and incest, or famous authors like chuck palahniuk or bret easton ellis for writing the same and worse. Because fiction CANNOT HURT YOU. Censorship DOES hurt people though, by denying them that outlet for their artistic ideas.

Now, if someone SENT a fic to a person they'd written about, that's wrong. You don't subject someone who didn't consent to reading your work to it unless explicitly asked. And vice versa, famous people have a responsibility to stay out of fandom spaces lest they see something they regret.

But all of that is besides the point. My point is: policing what people write is wrong and pointless because it literally doesn't affect you. No one is making anyone read. Everything is tagged and flagged. Hell, the fic that started all this was even locked so only registered users could read it, so no one made anyone sign up for ao3, log in, and read any fic