#sorry there's only six fics in this post :c

[lostintransist]

Sacrifice Doesn’t Hurt Less if They Don’t Love You

I can't decide if I want to write a whole fic for this chapter that spawned fully formed in my head but a mutual told me I could post it here.

Context. Soap and Ghost are lovers. They are both wanting to work through some issues and ask reader (female pronouns) to become their third for a time. Reader was unsure about joining a thruple, so they offer to pay her. Reader is a soldier and works with the 141.

CW: Mentions of onpage violence, can be read as suicidal ideation, self sacrifice.

Watching Soap and Ghost share a look of goodbyes with only their eyes cements for you the knowing, deeper than your bones, that no one will ever love you like they love each other. No room exists for you to shelter inside of their love. The pain is freeing somehow. Like every message pounded into your head about being unlovable was true.

The call of the void had abated for a time, since they paid you for your body. The urge to jump without pulling your shoot, to kink the hose to your oxygen lessened. It returned now. It didn’t call though, it sang. Staring into the horizon where blue became intangible you know that even if you listened to the haunting call if you go home today an ‘accident’ would befall you soon enough.

A hand on your thigh pulls you back from the discordant notes. You look from the hand to the face and see Price looking at you, concern in the crinkles around his eyes.

“You with us Everest?”

“Sorry Cap. Just mentally gearing up.”

He nodded, accepting the strange behavior and the explanation. He had used the shared channel everyone could listen in on over the headphones. Helicopters were not the place for private conversations.

Feeling Ghost’s eyes you turn. Looking at one eye and then the other you find nothing but the mask inside and out. The horizon draws your attention again as you listen to the symphony from within the void.

Price had organized groups of three before everyone piled into the helicopter. You had been assigned to Soap and Ghost. As the ghost ship came into sight you slipped into your operator role. Rearguard would be you duty. They trusted you to step backwards over the dodgy doorways and ensure no one attacked them from behind. A place of trust.

Everyone knew the mission. Locate and terminate the computer that would signal a series of bombs dotting major cities. It would be highly guarded and most likely booby trapped. Six teams split as they enter the darkness of the ship. It creaks with each bob of the waves and every step as if she is moments from careening into the depths to become a home for the deep dwelling fish.

Soap takes the lead, heading aft. None of you encounter resistance until six levels down. Movement from barely beyond your vision as you step down another set of ladders. You fire off two shots, a body falling into the light. Not one of yours. A hand on you shoulder is the warning you get before Ghost and Soap step over the body, heading deeper into the darkness.

Smaller stature is not often an advantage in your line of work. But tiny halls become your safe haven because you are not an overly large man.

Moving before your mind can process you are grappling for a knife that connected with your vest. A man had stepped from the deepest shadows and swung at you after the guys had stepped through the next porthole. He pulled back and swung downwards, aiming for your neck. Leaning back you caught only a nick from the blade along the crease where jaw meets neck. Because all wide swings must be returned by an equally wide swing you step in and jam both hands into his forearm.

The enemy fights his arm up, your upper body strength no match for his. Instead of fighting him in a losing battle you place one boot on the wall behind you, leveraging your best asset in the fight.

It impressed the men on the 141 that you could match or often beat them in dead lift squats. They did make fun of you for how low your numbers were on upper body though so it all came out in the wash.

The man brought his second arm up to support his knife wielding hand, the tip of the blade inching closer to your face. Forcing your second boot up the wall you press with all the power your foremothers blessed you with. The light bouncing around from your rifle shines off whites of the mans eyes as you shove the blade into his windpipe. He slumps as his life flees.

Gravity takes hold of you now that friction has abated and you slam to the ground with a grunt. Your knee took the bulk of the blow. Up on your feet you limp after your lovers. They must have circled back to find you since you find them only three rooms away.

“What happened Everest?” Ghost barks at you.

“Your job is to protect each other, my job is to protect you. I did my job.” You snap at him. He would want to take it from your hide if there was a later. On jobs he was your superior and sass could not be accepted.

Soap reached around him and lifted blood from your collar.

“We are here to protect you too Ev.”

The sweetest blade to your heart came from Soap’s tongue. Lies, because if they were here to protect you they would have noticed sooner that you were gone.

His finger hovers as you turn your head slightly away from his touch.

“We’ve got more ground to cover. Let’s go.” Voice harsh, you focus on limping forward.

Several more engagements occur, but the guys don’t leave your sight once. After clearing a particularly well guarded tiny red room you find what you have been looking for. Soap drops to a knee at the computer, typing away.

You and Ghost take up opposite positions staring down the hallways watching the darkness.

“Why didn’t you call for help?”

Ghost’s even tone hits like a lash across your back.

“Didn’t really have time with a blade at my throat.”

“Why are you mad at us?”

Even now the distinction between your place and theirs is hammered home in the phrasing of the question. Us denotes a you, an outsider.

“Now is not the time to unpack our relationship problems, Simon.”

“I’m getting no response from the computer and I don’t dare move it. This group really loves their bombs to trigger when people touch things.”

A head poking around the walls you to fire off a few rounds.

“I’m jammed, Soap replace me. I can work on disabling the computer.” You step into the small, red, red box trading places with Soap who steps into the hall, gun drawn on the shadows.

The instant his heel passes beyond the door frame you swing the heavy metal door shut, slamming the bar into place. Faraday cages are interesting things. They can be made by accident, or opportunity.

You couldn’t disable the computer you had fought so hard to get to the bowels of the ship, but you could stop it from sending a signal. As the bar clanged down, the bell tolling of your death, two irate faces appeared in the small window. Two men you love more than any reasonable person could understand stare at you, yell at you, beat at the door demanding entrance.

A beep from the computer tells you there is four minutes left until the signal is sent. Your lip trembles. Mouthing the words so carefully they can understand even beyond the slightly distorted glass you give your final goodbyes.

‘Love you.’

Blowing a shaky kiss to their horrified faces you slide the cover in place, sealing your tomb.

The void’s lilting tune is sweet in your ears. The pounding on the door stops. No sounds squawk from the radio in your ear, your play worked. They would be safe. They didn’t need you anyways, a matched pair didn’t need a third.

With nothing left to do but breathe in the last of your oxygen you decided to strip down to your uniform. Emptying every weapon on you of its rounds you place them gently on the floor a fair distance from the door. No need for them to get stepped on when someone can finally reach your body. Next goes the holsters and the heavy tactical gear.

It’s getting harder to breath now, your lungs heaving for a breath more. You sound like a baby you once saw with RSV. You place a hand to your ribs, finding the flesh pulling between the bones with each breath. Laying down seems the best option now. Your mind feels pulled, stretched. Taffy for brains. Stretching out you get comfortable. With your eyes fluttering you can almost imagine yourself on a cot somewhere in the tropics.

Distantly a beeping starts, the thirty second countdown. One long beep reaches through the fog of oxygen deprivation, you strain your ears. Even in the bowels of the ocean you would have heard something, shouting, if you had failed. When none occur you sigh and surrender to the darkness.

You might not have been important to them. They might have never loved you. But god dammit you were going to be remembered.

I also write COD over on AO3, same handle.

Masterlist

[fettuccin-e]

As Long As I Want

so yeah i may have not posted a fic in two months and WHATABOUTIT no i'm kidding i'm really sorry for the little hiatus!! my pedro pascal obsession circa 2021 has relapsed and i'm terribly sorry lol so yeah pls enjoy this short little fic that is only about sucking frankie's dick

Tags: Frankie "Catfish" Morales x Reader, fem!reader, oral (m!recieving), size kink, deep throating, this is so nasty lol (w/c: 1.5K)

Francisco Morales is a pretty unassuming man. He’s tall and lumbering, but his patchy beard and ever-present baseball cap allow him to sink into the background of most things, which is exactly where he likes to be. He isn’t a standout, he knows that, and he’s plenty content with it. As long as you love him, he’s just fine.

And you do, god, you love him. You try to tell him constantly, try to express how fucking hot you find him, even if he shrugs you off with a shy chuckle and a blush on his scruffy cheeks. With his pretty dark eyes and soft hair, how he towers over you and how his broad chest presses against your back when he hugs you from behind, and when he fucks you from behind. Frankie is, by far, the sexiest man you’ve ever seen, and somehow, he’s yours.

And, as unassuming as he is, Frankie also has the fattest, biggest cock you’ve ever seen.

He hides it behind baggy jeans and boxers, but you pride yourself on being very, very familiar with it. It took the first six months of your relationship to take it all the way into your cunt, the thickness of it stretching you till you thought you were bound to break, the length of it bullying so deep you thought you would feel it in your fucking throat. Even now, four years later, you still need to be prepared thoroughly before taking Frankie, a process that he takes great joy in.

Frankie will spend hours between your thighs, sucking at your clit and fucking you open on his calloused fingers until you’re sobbing and shaking. He loves to pull your thighs apart when you try to close them, keeping you wide open and dripping for him. You beg for him to fuck you, that you’re ready, but Frankie also loves to ignore you, content to keep lapping at your twitching cunt, murmuring a, “quiet, princesa, I’m working.” You want to strangle him. 

You also love him so much that it hurts sometimes. 

He’s perfect, everything is perfect, except for the fact that, although he’ll spend an entire night eating your pussy like a man starved, he won’t let you return the favor. You can count the amount of times in four years that Francisco Morales has let you suck his cock on one hand, and you wouldn’t even use all of your fingers. Whenever you’re between his legs, working him between your lips, inch by thick inch, he always wrenches you off him with a grip in your hair, before he bends you over and fucks you until your pussy is gaping and your brain is mush.

But you know you’ve got him this time. His hands are bound with a silky scarf around the head board, the pinkness of his blush spreading down to his chest as he watches you with heavy eyes.

“Princesa, please, just- you can sit on my face, yeah? And do what you want to me, but baby, I just gotta...I gotta make you feel good, please?” he grunts with that deep voice of his, raspy and needy.

You kiss him softly as a reply, brushing a hand through his soft curls. “Frankie,” you whisper. “I want to suck your cock today. I told you that, baby, didn’t I?” Frankie nods tentatively. You grin at the way his lips part, big eyes watching you like you’ve hung the moon and stars, just for him. “Then you’re going to shut up and let me suck you as long as I want, you got that?”

Frankie nods again, and nearly whines when you pull away from his face, brushing your lips down, down. You lick over the softness of his stomach, around where his cock, throbbing and red and dripping, lays against it. You avoid sucking the sticky tip into your mouth right away, instead moving lower to bite at his quivering thighs. You can hear Frankie’s breaths growing louder, desperate for your touch. 

“Please, mi vida,” he whimpers, hips bucking up ever so slightly. His cheeks burn at the sound of his own desperation, but when you smile at him, almost shyly, at his words, it almost becomes worth it.

“Okay, Frankie,” you whisper, and he gasps when you move back up his body, ever so slightly, to lick hungrily over the length of his cock, moaning at the taste.

He groans deep in his throat at the feeling of your hot tongue trailing over the veins and crevices of him, memorizing every thick, throbbing inch. You make your way up until you reach the tip, and, with one final glance at Frankie, his pupils blown wide as he meets your gaze, you close your plush lips around the tip.

Frankie’s back arches, just a bit, off the bed when you suck hard on the tip of his cock, tongue dipping into the slit as you swallow everything he has to give. “Ah- oh God, oh God, por favor, baby,” he whines, not even knowing what he’s begging for from you.

But you know, you always know. 

You can’t exactly smile around Frankie’s cock, not with your mouth stretched as wide as it is around the girth of him, but it’s a near thing. You slide down the length of him, tongue running along every new inch you let into your pretty mouth, watching as Frankie’s eyes roll into the back of his head, soft stomach heaving with every labored breath.

You brace yourself with your nails digging into his thighs as you push down even further, the tip of him finally budging into the back of your throat, and though you try to swallow around it, you can’t help but gag a little.

Frankie’s eyes snap open at the feeling and sound, his body going suddenly still. “Baby, do you need to stop? Fuck, you can stop if it’s too much, we can just-” You shake your head gently, not daring to slide him out of your mouth just yet. “Okay, okay, mi vida,” he breathes. “Just, please, I don’t want to hurt you.”

You could never, you want to say, but your mouth is far too preoccupied. Instead, you push just a little further, shoving him just another inch into your drooling mouth.

Frankie never lets you do this, never lets you have your fill, and you’re drunk off the taste of him, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the tip lodges in the back of your throat. And even as it does, even as his fat cockhead makes you choke, you keep sinking down.

He slides deep into the length of your throat, forcing you to breathe through your nose. Your eyes are watering at the stretch of him, your nails digging little indents into his hairy thighs. You fucking love it.

Frankie loves it too, evidently. With every inch, he whines, crying your name in stuttered gasps. You just keep moving, bobbing your head up and down just slightly to get more and more of him in, until you finally, finally, reach the thick base of his cock, the wiry hairs tickling your nose.

“Oh God, fuck princesa, you’re so perfect. Shit, your mouth is so good, you- you’re so good to me, baby, oh fuck, no one’s ever gotten this far, I-I-” he gasps, head thrown back and eyes clenched shut.

Oh. Your head feels like it’s underwater, delirious with the fact that you’re the only one to ever do this for Frankie. The only one that can do this for him.

You gaze up at him, entranced by his sweat-slicked, heaving body, pretty and needy. He blinks his eyes open, looking down at you when you stop moving, utterly still with his cock buried deep inside your throat. You, all pretty with your cheeks flushed and eyes watery, lips stretched wide and sticky and utterly obscene. You gaze back, your stare unrelenting, and suddenly swallow hard around the entire length of him.

Frankie nearly screams at the feeling, completely unreal and new. “Ah- ah!”

And you just keep doing it, bobbing slightly while you milk him with your hot, wet throat. Overwhelmed tears are leaking down Frankie’s face, his hips hitching up just barely to meet the minute movements of your head.

“I- Princesa, I’m gonna- I can’t hold it, ‘m sorry, can’t- it’s so good, too good mi vida, I-”

Frankie tries to pull his hips back, but you hold yourself onto him, keeping him buried within you as he spills hot, sticky cum down your throat.

You keep sucking him, milking him as the last dregs of his orgasm die away, before finally pulling yourself off him.

“Good?” you whisper, you voice sounding raspy and fucking used.

Frankie’s eyes widen in shock. “Good? Holy fucking shit, baby,” he mutters, head thrown back to look up at the ceiling, as if to ask God is she being fucking serious right now?

“You untie me, right fucking now, princesa. I’ll show you how ‘good’ that was. Until you pass the fuck out.”

[spencer-sweets]

Marvel Fic Recs | Loki&Thor (GEN)

let me prefice by saying this is all gen (non slash) fanfiction. if you are looking for thorki you are looking on the wrong blog sorry.

so i as the youngest of four brothers and the one hated the most by my parents, i have always had a soft spot for brotherly fic. Thor and Loki's dynamic really resonated with me as i went through my teen angst phase while my older brothers were all getting ready to settle down and were all already married. so if you are looking for a fic rec that centers the brotherly relationship between thor & loki you have found the right place.

one last warning is that most of these are loki-centric in case thats not your thing.

life's great lie by Laeveteinn Teen+ 7,787 Loki stares at his hands, slowly realizing that magic still works in the TVA. Perhaps not every kind, but Asgard’s sorcery can take hold here- in particular, Asgard’s illusion magic. Loki’s proven it with every step he’s taken. If magic didn’t work at all, he’d be entirely blue. (Or: even beyond the edges of space and time, he is Loki of Asgard.)

Cute post loki season 1 fic

i couldn't change (though i wanted to); by unintentionallyangsty General Audiences 20,640 Given the team's circumstances--travelling through the cosmos and headed for Midgard on a previously unplanned voyage--Loki taking up a newfound fondness for shapeshifting on a whim is hardly the weirdest thing that has happened to any single member of the Revengers in the past several months.  In fact, it doesn't even make the top three.  (Or; Three times Loki shapeshifts following Ragnarok, and one (1) time he does not. (Alternatively, how Loki unintentionally ends up bonding with the Revengers on the Statesman as a number of different creatures)).

so cute - this fic has influenced many of my loki headcanons and is just adorable

run down the vows of me by siv_siv_siv Mature 44,609 Thor is banished to Midgard. Only, this time, Loki is banished with him. An alternate Thor (2011) fic, where Loki tells the truth about letting the Jotnar into the vault, just after discovering the truth of his heritage on Jotunheim.

thor rewrite that focuses on thor and loki growing together during the movie plot.

~ Comeback ~ by anastacianott General Audiences (I would rate Teen+) 63,867 AU: Coming back for Loki's abandoned body led to the most incredible results Thor could ever imagine. Post Thor TDW.

shameless h/c fic set post t:tdw

Let Me Know if It Gets Above a Six by Sundial_at_Night Teen+ 65,188 “Mr. Loki?” asked the Spider cautiously. “Aren’t you—like—a bad guy?” he asked, voice full of only curiosity, as far as Loki could tell. His first thought was, yes. His second thought was no. His third thought was, sometimes? “It varies from moment to moment,” Loki answered honestly, prying his eyes open after they threatened to fall close. “But on a scale of one to ten, where are you at right now?” “Maybe a three?” The Spider-child nodded. “Cool,” he replied. “Let me know if it gets above a six. Or: Five times Peter Parker was there for Loki when it 'got above a six', and one time he wasn’t.

Im gonna be real with you the thor&loki takes a backseat to the loki&peter parker in this one but it is absolutely amazing and so much fun.

On Yonder Hill by bedlamsbard Not Rated (Id say Teen+) 80,394 “This is a terrible plan,” Loki said. “Absolutely dreadful.” “But you’ll do it, right?” Bruce said. “Of course.”   Five years ago, Thor died on the Statesman and Thanos wiped out half of all life in the universe. Now the Avengers have a plan to undo the Snap, but they're going to need the help of the last King of Asgard. That's not a problem; that's where things get interesting. That tends to happen around the God of Mischief.

avengers endgame rewrite that focuses on loki after losing thor and his efforts to bring him back along with those snapped

Memento Mori by GwendolynStacy Teen+ 81,637 Of the many people capable of carrying the fate of the universe on their shoulders by travelling back in time, Loki would have been the first choice of exactly nobody. With no allies, no plan and nobody on his side, Loki will just have to wing it. Or: That awkward moment when you've completed your redemption arc, but nobody else got the memo.

another time travel fix-it that i honeslty don't remember the specifics of but i must have loved it since it was in my bookmarks.

Grievance by PeaceHeather (Restricted) Not Rated 92,518 For a fill in Round 17 of Norsekink: "Someone starts to notice that Odin treats Loki in ways that are neglectfull and borderline abusive and starts to feel very uncomfortable about it. It becomes worse when people at court start to take after Odin's treatment of Loki. But they still don't feel comfortable voicing they're doubts out loud. And then the lip-sewing incident happens and they can no longer sit idly by while this happens. So this person just stand up and calls the rest of Asgard out on this bulshit, seriously the boy just cut of some hair, it's not like it wont ever grow back on it's own again.

loki-centric but has great loki & thor content within. is not the most friendly to odin or the warriors three though... but it has some great references to mythology thrown in!

also you have to have an ao3 account to read.

Fate's Guardian by PeaceHeather  (Restricted) Teen+ 98,531 Set roughly a year post-Thor:TDW, reference to events in Guardians of the Galaxy. Pretty much a shameless fixit fic. No pairings. A being shows up on Earth looking for Loki, the Avengers get pulled in to see what's going on, and they all learn what Loki has *really* been up to all this time. I dunno, I was in a mood to write something like this, so I did. First posted to FFnet, if you prefer to read it there.

by the same author as grievance. also need and ao3 account to access this one. shameless fix-it fic that is loki-centric. loki is the anti-hero/hero in this one but it is heavy with thor&loki content.

Skýli by PeaceHeather  (Restricted) Not Rated (Mature) 111,988 See also "Skeletons, Scenes, and Snippets" Chapter 9 - the one where Asgard's magic users go on strike and quietly evacuate Asgard, after Odin passes sentence on Loki post-Avengers. Some of them turn up on Earth, and SHIELD has to assess whether or not this is another invasion. or: SHIELD is called to Iceland to investigate a village that appeared out of nowhere, and discovers that Asgard's magic users have quietly gone on strike and left their realm completely. The reasons are unsettling, and the potential consequences could shake the Nine Realms before all is said and done.

So far, no one has wound up on as many fic recs of mine as PeaceHeather. they are probably my favorite fanfiction author of all time - having written 3 fics that are on my favorite fanfiction of all time rec. this one did slip through the cracks when i initially made this list because i had gone through my bookmarks for the loki&thor tag but this one has no relationships tagged.

it is another brainwashed loki fic that deals with asgardian politics, the avengers, and expands upon the magic system within the thor movies.

You Screamed For So Long We Forgot To Care Anymore by GalaxyThreads Teen+ 126,180 Five months after Thor drags his half-dead brother to Earth to plead asylum, things take a turn for the worse. With the older Asgardian out of commission and a sizeable threat overshadowing them, Clint becomes aware of two facts: One: Loki was tortured, mind-controlled, and manipulated into attacking Earth. Two: Loki knows none of this. (gen, no smut)

mind controlled and tortured loki with heavy hurt/comfort and a focus on thor & loki. the other avengers are also in this one

Awake Within a Dream by Thursdays_Angel Teen+ 126,582 What if Loki had believed the invasion and subsequent battle on Midgard to have been nothing more than an illusion?

tortured!loki and a lot of hurt/comfort. odin is good in this one.

Castles in the Air by cosmic_medusa Teen+ 182,326 Loki's first act as King is to collect his banished brother to aid his regency, however brief. Thor discovers that the political landscape is far from what it seemed, and that the lies of Odin have resulted in the threat of both his sons' safety and sanity. Drama, angst, double-crosses, butchering of folklore and history, and the epic bromance of Asgard's Princes ensues.

up there as one of the best pieces of fanfiction ive ever read. god i love when these fics explore asgardian politics and norse mythology. This focuses on loki as king and thor's relationship with him during it.

Ásgarðrian Galdr by Valerie_Vancollie Teen+ 479,713 What if Loki was able to warn his past self, so he did not lose control during his regency and was able to act as he normally would? What if he had been able to remain calm and in control of himself, and the situation? "How?" Loki demanded. "Betrayal," his future self stated simply, rage clear in every syllable. "But you must control your reaction and come to see me, or you will repeat my mistakes and we will miss an opportunity to take control and alter things in our favor." It would have changed everything.

this is literature disguised as a marvel time travel fanfiction. god this is amazing and has everything i love in this side of the fandom - politics, sci-fi, mythology... it's supposed to have 3 sequels but im not exactly counting on it. its still beyond amazing standing on its own. the things i would do to have a physical copy of this....

i'm not currently hyperfixated on these two but going through my bookmarks has brought me great joy. I might add more to this one day or maybe not. i'd love to hear your thoughts if you read any of these!

originally posted: 8/13/2024

[mbakuetshurisprincess]

Love for Duty’s Sake Part 5

AN: Hello loves! Wow when I tell y’all I was FIGHTING in the editing room with this fic because I couldn’t tell if I should split this in half or not. I ended up just keeping it as one because I felt bad for ignoring democracy (sorry lyric) and posting Anything But Love P2 before I posted this one. A couple of fun facts about this fic because I literally have nowhere else to put them lmfao. In the convo with Griot, the reason Y/N’s argument works on him is because it follows a valid rule within arguments/logic called Hypothetical Syllogism. Basically, If A leads to B and B leads to C then you can correctly assume that A should also lead to C. Google it if you’re interested! Also, in writing Shuri’s interactions (esp the “in my wife's name” parts) it's like very heavily inspired by the way Dracula talks about Lisa Tepes in the Castlevania show!! 

Holy fuck don’t know how I could ever forget this. As always, any of my fake dating stuff is dedicated to the lovely @pinkwright. This is my writer bae y’all have no idea, L4DS and ABL posts are always made with them in mind. 

Summary: As the only daughter of Genelia, there were things you just had to do, and marrying the Queen of Wakanda was one of those things.

Pairing: Shuri x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cussing, violence, brief mentions of bad relationships with parents that’s it I think.

Word count: 6,213 (you see why I was thinking about splitting it up now??)

Part 1.  Part 2.  Part 3.  Part 4.  Masterlist.  Taglist.

Suggested listening: Glock Six (Bonus) - 6LACK 

“No need to state the obvi', I be close to your heart I know you looking for real love I got my hand on my Glock, posted on the block I might just let off a shot, at anyone tryin' to kill her”

The feeling of your body sliding off of your wife and onto the hospital pillow below you was the first hint that something was off. You knew Shuri didn’t mean to be so rough with you, even if you hadn’t been injured. She just hopped off of the bed quicker than her mind could remember that you were laying back on her. Only when you grimaced slightly did Shuri think enough to look back at you. 

“Ndicela uxolo sthandwa sam (I’m sorry my love).” She muttered to you softly, scanning your body just long enough to ensure that you weren’t really hurt before turning her attention to Aneka. “When was this posted?” 

“Ten minutes ago.” 

Shuri took a deep inhale, rereading the post. “How did she even know about the shooting to post?” 

The question was impossible for Aneka to answer, knowing something like that wasn’t necessarily in her job description. You, however? You were used to political moves like this. “She knows because the shooting happened in her city Shuri.” 

“What?” Shuri turned to face you.

“I’m just saying, if something goes down in the Golden City, you’re made aware right? The same thing goes for DC. Especially on a day like today, foreign powers come into town. I’m sure she was all over it.” As you spoke, wheels started turning in your head, the scenario surrounding the events of your shooting. Everything was almost too perfect like it had been orchestrated. 

“Listen to what you just said Y/N, I’m notified when something happens in the Golden City, not you. So why would she be the one posting about this instead of the President?” Shuri’s tone was harsher than you would have liked, posing the question to you as if you were a child misunderstanding basic math. 

You sat up in your bed. “Because President Carter isn’t leading the show, Mallory is.” 

“Why would you say that?” 

“Because I know it’s true.” You folded your arms across your chest, starting to get annoyed at Shuri’s refusal to see what was clearly right in front of her. “Do you not trust me?” 

The question was loaded and the Queen’s response came instinctually, “The question is not if I trust you, we are married of course I trust you. But you make it increasingly harder to trust you when you put forth ideas like that.” Shuri mimicked your position, crossing her arms over herself. 

Her response stung and the look on your face made Shuri regret saying it immediately. “I did not mean-” 

You cut Shuri off, not wanting to hear what she had to say. “Nope. You said it. What do I know anyway? Not like I come from a family of politicians who would make this exact same move given the chance.” You turned your attention from where Shuri and Aneka stood back to the tv, effectively disengaging from the conversation. 

Warning signals were going off in Shuri’s head and she knew she fucked up. Taking one more look at the screen she made her way back over to your bed. Kneeling next to you and taking your hand in hers. “I am sorry, sthandwa sam. (my love) I didn't mean to brush off your idea like that.  Your attention still faced forward but the Queen could feel the race in your heart rate when her thumb traced over the lines of your knuckles. 

The silent treatment you were giving Shuri was frustrating her, if she had just slowed down as Okoye said, she would've thought about what she was saying before she said it. “I promise I will make it up to you-”

The buzz of Shuri’s kimoyo beads pulled her attention away from you and her apology. 

Speak of the devil and she shall appear.

It was a message from Okoye letting her know that they had all made it back safely to Wakanda and that Liam Drockers was in the lower-level interrogation rooms. Aneka must’ve gotten a similar message from Ayo because when she made eye contact with Shuri, she gave her a knowing nod as she left the room. 

“I will make this up to you… when I am free again.” The end of the sentence tumbled slowly out of Shuri’s mouth, knowing it was going to garner a reaction from you. 

“What?” Instead of your voice sounding angry like the Queen had expected, it almost sounded more hurt or scared. This new tone pulled at Shuri’s heartstrings. “You’re leaving?” 

While yes, you were literally just ignoring Shuri ten seconds ago, you hadn’t expected her to just up and leave like that. Especially given how physically close you two had spent the last hour, part of you had grown attached to her in a way you never imagined possible. Addicted to the safe feeling that only seemed to come when you were in her arms. 

“I have some council business I have to take care of.” Her rubbing of your hands still hadn’t stopped, tracing every detail of your knuckles. 

You looked at her now, teeth biting at your bottom lip. “What do you have that’s so important?” 

“Just some time-sensitive stuff I need to handle. It should be quick, I don’t imagine it will be long.” Her eyes were averted, so you had no read on what possible clues they could be conveying. Something about this bothered you, normally she was so demanding of your eye contact and now she wasn’t even looking up. But you knew Shuri, whatever this was she wasn’t going to give up easily. You needed something to garner her attention first before you asked her what you needed to know. 

“I think I’m gonna call home.” Shuri’s eyes instantly flashed up to yours.

“Really?”

“I think so, I don’t want my family worrying about me, you know? I don’t want them thinking I’m dead or anything. Now that Mallory has so kindly let the world know about this.” 

Shuri hummed in response, debating asking the question at the forefront of her mind. “I thought- I mean, I didn’t know you had a way of contacting them.” 

This made you feel a little bit guilty since you had made it seem like you’d given Genelia up for good. “It's a direct line to my father's advisor, only for emergency purposes.” Your eyes flickered around her face. “I’ve never used it, I didn’t think I’d have to.” 

Shuri felt assured in hearing this, the slight worry that had slipped into her mind about you secretly planning to leave her dissipated. “Oh, okay.” She savored these last few minutes of her hand tracing yours, knowing that soon those same hands who held yours so delicately would be used in the complete opposite manner. 

“Shuri?” The way you called her name was soft, the same way you had in the restaurant before all of this had happened. It made her feel warm inside, lowering her guard just as you intended. 

Her response once again was just a hum, her eyes studying every detail of your face the way her hands did yours. 

“You wouldn’t lie to me right?” Your question caught her off guard but her rubbing never stopped. 

“Kakade hayi, sithandwa sam. (Of course, not my love)” Her eyes conveyed no sign of lying so you continued. 

“So it’s really council business that's so pressing you have to take care of it right now? Not anything to do with me?” You asked the question confidently, not taking your eyes off Shuri, searching for a tell. Anyone else would have missed it but you didn’t, the brief second when Shuri’s movements faltered. When her hand stopped rubbing yours. 

“Yes.” 

“Yes, what?” 

She stood up now, letting go of your hand. Being at eye level with you was too much right now, it felt too connected given the fact that she was literally lying to your face. “Yes, it’s council business like I told you before. Very time sensitive.” Before you could respond she spoke again. “Aneka!” 

The Dora appeared in the door frame with lightning speed, “Yes, ngangamsha (your majesty)?” 

“Guard Y/N’s side of the ward while I deal with this business, make sure no harm comes to her.” Shuri’s words were confident and her arms now crossed her chest signifying her demeanor change. 

“Shuri, I don't need a babysitter, I’m fine.” You protested. “Plus Aneka has yet to see Ayo, let them see each other.” 

“I am fine, my Queen. Thank you for your kindness but ensuring your safety is more important.” Aneka responded quickly, earning a nod of agreement from Shuri. 

Your wife looked down at her kimoyo beads. “I’ll be back in an hour, mfazi (wife).” Placing a kiss on your forehead, she looked down at you one more time before she left. “No trouble while I’m gone?” 

“I’ll try my hardest.” You replied as she walked out of the room, Aneka behind her taking her spot guarding your room. 

This left you alone with your thoughts and while a million things were running around your mind there were two prominent thoughts. One being, your wife was lying to you. 

You couldn't be a hundred percent sure about exactly what she was lying about but you knew it had something to do with you. While you wanted to snoop around and try and figure it out, the second of the thoughts found its way to the forefront of your mind. Having to call you family. 

Looking around you found your physical phone, the one that Shuri still referred to as ‘primitive technology’. Scrolling until you found the contact you didn’t think you’d ever have to press. Saying a prayer you pressed call and hoped for the best. 

The line rang only one time before the person picked up. “This isn’t some sick joke, you’re really calling me?” 

“Marcos, I told you I’d only call you in an emergency. I wouldn't play a joke like this.” 

You could hear him recite a prayer on the other end of the line. “Everyones worried sick about you Y/N, I mean your parents think you’re…” His voice trailed off and it made your heart hurt thinking about the stress this whole situation inadvertently caused your family. 

“I know, I know, that’s why I called. Can you just tell them that I’m alright? It’s nothing to worry about and I’ll be fine?” 

Marcos contemplated your words, “Y/N, your father will kill me if he finds out I spoke to you without giving him the opportunity.” 

The sound of movement from the other end of the line had you concerned. “Marcos wait, you know I don’t want to speak to them.” It was a useless plea and you knew it. As much as Marcos cared about you like you were his own daughter and wished to protect you as such. At the end of the day, he worked for your father. 

“I’m sorry mon papillon (my butterfly)” The term of endearment did little to quell the feeling of betrayal as Marcos moved to give the phone to your father. 

“Whoever it is Marcos, tell them they will need to call later, I am grieving my daughter.” 

“It is about Y/N, sir.”

Your father looked between his advisor and the phone before picking it up. 

“Yes?” This was the first time you had heard your father's voice in years. It had become too painful to go back and watch old home videos from before Yara’s death so part of you wondered if you’d forgotten what he sounded like. But as soon as his deep voice bellowed through the phone, you remembered. 

“Dad? It’s me.” You were scared to speak the words at first, questioning how he would react. 

“Y/N, is that you? Oh my god! Josiah, get your mother from the chapel, our baby is alive!” The outcry from your father made your heart hurt, had he been that concerned?

“Dad-” You tried to speak but his rambling cut you off. 

“When we saw the news honey we were so worried about you, I thought you had died. But you didn’t! God brought you back!”

“Dad-”

 “He’s bringing you back home to us!” He ended his rejoicing when you finally spoke up. 

“Babba! What are you talking about?” Your pain medication must have been making you delirious and mishear things. 

“What do you mean Y/N, this is a sign! You were almost taken from Genelia, from us. We need to come together and give thanks that you’re still with us.” Your father's words were confusing you, why was he saying that you were taken from them as if they weren't the same ones to send you away? 

“I’m not coming home Dad, I was just calling to let everyone know I was okay-”

“Nonsense!” Your mother spoke now, you weren't aware when she arrived in the room. “You must come home, we miss you. This was a wake-up call, don’t you think?” 

You paused now and took a deep breath. What they were asking was encroaching on a boundary you had set the day you left Genelia. To never come back. “I just, I don’t think it’s a good idea guys.”

It was now your parent's turn to pause while they thought about what they could say to change your mind. But it wasn’t them that spoke, instead it was a different voice. One that clearly held the tonal characteristics of a man but was still slightly squeaky signifying they hadn’t fully finished maturing. 

“So you’re just never gonna come back? Is that it then?” If it wasn’t for your father's words earlier you wouldn’t have even been able to guess who it was. But of course, it was your little shadow who spoke up now. Josiah. 

“Siah-”

“No, you don’t get to call me that anymore. My sister, who loved me and didn’t just get up and abandon her family for a fancy new life in France, called me that. I don’t know who you are.” 

Josiah’s words cut through you like the sharpest blade known to man, cutting deeper than any slick comment from Shuri. Is that really what he thought happened? That you left your family behind to go chase your dreams in a foreign country? 

You didn’t care about your parents, quite frankly fuck them. Any emotional ties you felt towards them had long left you, so saying no to them while it was hard; it didn’t hurt. Saying no to Josiah though? Hearing the disappointment in his voice? He didn’t deserve this. To be caught in the crosshairs of the relationship between you and your parents. 

“Fine!” 

“Fine?” Your mother and father's voice asked in unison. 

“Fine, I will come back to Genelia to visit.” 

“Tomorrow?” Josiah’s voice questioned.

“Tomorrow? Siah I just got shot.” You tried to reason with your brother, and while you didn’t feel any of the effects of the shooting at this exact moment you still didn’t know if traveling so soon would be wise. Plus you still needed to explain this all to Shuri. 

“You’re married to the smartest woman in the world and live in the most technologically advanced country. I’m sure they can figure something out.” Josiah left no room for argument in his sentence. 

“Fine Siah, I will come to Genelia for a few days, flying in tomorrow. Happy?” You didn’t even understand why you were agreeing to this. 

“Not in the slightest, I have no idea who you are anymore. I did that for Mom and Dad.” 

That hurt more than Josiah knew. You tried to tell yourself that he didn’t mean it, but something in you couldn't believe it. 

“Okay well, I’ve got to go. I’ll um talk to Marcos about arrival times and everything.” You needed this phone call done, the gravity of what you had just agreed to started to weigh on you. 

“Parfait! We can’t wait to see you soon Y/N. We love you!” You could hear the smile in your father's voice and felt guilt not only that you didn’t feel the same happiness but that you couldn’t reciprocate his “I love you” truthfully.  

“Yeah I um, I’ll see you guys soon.” With that you ended the call, throwing your head back against the pillow. 

As you sat in silence you digested what had just happened.

1. You called Marcos, just to let him know that you were alive. 

2. You ended up on a phone call with your parents, speaking to them for the first time in years. 

3. After declining to come to Genelia, you were guilt-tripped into returning by your little brother. Not because he wanted to see you but because he knew his parents wanted to.

All of this made your head reel and you longed for the peace and comfort that your wife provided. But she wasn’t here with you, her wife who had just been shot. Instead, she was dealing with council business.

“Griot.” 

“Ah your majesty, I am glad you are in good health again. What can I do for you?” 

You paused wondering if Griot was even able to give you this information. “Where is Shuri right now?” 

“Shuri has programmed me to not disclose her location to anyone unless it is an emergency, I am sorry your majesty.” 

Of course Shuri had done so, always wanting to keep tabs on everyone but not thinking anyone else needed to keep them on her. You wanted to give up before an idea popped into your head. “Griot, Shuri programmed me into your system as a Queen, correct?” 

“Yes your majesty, she has programmed you with the same clearance as she has.” 

Jackpot. 

“And Shuri has access to her location status I would assume?” 

“Yes, your majesty.” 

“Great, so she has access to her location status, and I have the same clearance level as her/  You can give me her location.” Your reasoning was solid, creating a logical path that the AI could follow. 

“Yes, your majesty, that does appear to be correct. One moment please.”Success. “Queen Shuri is in the basement, interrogation room one.” 

“Interrogation room one?” You asked Griot again, you didn’t even know the palace had a single interrogation room, let alone multiple. 

“Yes, the Queen has been in that room since she left you in the hospital wing.” 

So she had been lying to you. 

“Thank you, Griot, that will be all.” 

There was no doubt in your mind that this had something to do with your shooting and that Shuri thought she was doing good by you by keeping you away from all of it. Trying to shield you from more pain. But that wasn’t what you asked for, it was what she decided you needed. 

You touched your abdomen, trying to gauge your pain level. As Josiah had said, you were in the most technologically advanced country so truly your recovery wouldn’t take more than a few days. Right now, you felt good enough to hobble out of bed and make it out of your room. 

Shuri wanted to lie to you? Fine. But you were going to go down to the basement to figure out exactly what she was up to.  

You made it no more than five feet out of your room before a body in front of you haltered your progress. 

“What are you doing out of bed ngangamsha (your majesty)? You should be resting.” Aneka’s concerned look surprised you. While you knew it was her job to protect you, you saw a twinge of genuine concern in her eyes. 

“She lied to me Aneka.” You took a step to the side and then forward so she was no longer in your path. The dull twinge of pain let you know that this might be more difficult than your first few steps had made it appear, nonetheless you were going to make the journey. 

“Intoni? (What?)” 

“Shuri lied to me. She told me she had council business to take care of, but she didn’t. She’s downstairs in the basement right now. So I’m going down there to see what could be so important that she felt the need to lie to me.” You continued your walk towards the elevator pleasantly surprised that Aneka didn’t appear to try and stop you. 

You took a few more steps before suddenly something pressed against the back of both of your knees, causing you to lose your balance. Falling back right into… a chair? Aneka stood above you, her hands on the handle of the wheelchair that she had just gently gotten you into. “I am not condoning you doing this, however, I know I can not stop you.” 

You nodded, grateful to hear that. 

“But,” Of course there was something. “I will not let you rip your stitches hobbling down there.” 

A smile passed across your face and a similar one came to Ankea’s. 

“Plus, I can talk to you while we make our way down there. I should fill you in, it is for the best.” Aneka pushed you forward as she began to explain just who was awaiting you in the basement. 

While you two made your way down, Shuri, Ayo, Okoye, and your assailant were deep into their interrogation session. 

To Shuri’s credit, she tried to be diplomatic about the whole situation. When she first walked into the room and saw Liam Drockers sitting down with Ayo and Okoye on either side of him, she imagined what her brother would say to her. 

“Patience sisi.” He would say. “Regardless of what he has done, he is deserving of a fair questioning, the same as you and me.” 

And she tried to take T’Challa’s advice, asking Liam simple questions at first.

“Are you an employee of Judas’s Ice Cream shop?” 

No response.

“Are you working for the United States government?” 

No response. 

“Were you aware the person you shot was the Queen of Wakanda, Y/N Y/L/N Udaku?”

A small smile creeped up on Liam’s face after she finished speaking, but still, he said nothing. This infuriated her and she was about ready to cast this whole morally right thing to the side and get the information she needed through more direct means. 

But then her mother's voice came into her head. “Do not let him remove you from yourself intomba (daughter).”

The Queen calmed herself, “I asked you a question. Were you aware the person you shot was  Y/N Y/L/N Udaku, the Queen of Wakanda?” 

While Liam's eyes had largely remained on the floor he pulled them up to her now, showing off the bored look they held. “I didn’t miss, did I?” 

Shuri’s heartbeat increased, so he knew what he was doing. This was a planned attack on her wife? He knew who she was and still chose to take the shot?

“You still thinkin’ bout showin this fool mercy?” No. That was the one voice she didn’t want to listen to. 

Okoye saw the look and Shuri’s eyes and when their gaze finally met, a wave of concern washed over her. She was losing Shuri to this. 

Okoye’s suggestion for a break is what brought them outside, Shuri pacing up and down the hallway trying to decide how to move forward. 

“Is it really that hard of a decision little cuz?” 

“Shut up.” She spoke out loud. Ayo looked over to Okoye wondering if they should step in but Okoye shook her head, hoping that whoever Shuri was speaking to would provide the young girl some clarity. 

“I’m just saying what you’re really thinking here. I mean he shot ya wife, you really cool with letting that slide?” 

“I am not ‘letting it slide’, I’m going about it the diplomatic way N’Jadaka. Something I know you know nothing about.”

Erik laughed at that “Aww shit little panther got some bite to her huh? But you’re right I don’t know shit about the diplomatic way, what I do know however is how to get results, quickly. It’s cool though, give this mother fucker the time and respect he didn’t give to your wife. I’m sure that’s smart.” 

His last comment drew Shuri over the edge. Done with the conversation and confident in her decision, she made her way back over to the door where Ayo and Okoye awaited her. She knew the decision she had come to was harsh but the only thing on her mind was ensuring your safety and getting to the bottom of this. 

“If you do not want to stay for the next part of the interrogation, I am not ordering either of you too. This is the time now to back out of this, without any blood on your hands.” She thought for a moment about how literal her figure of speech was about to become. “Ngokunzulu (Seriously).” 

Okoye looked Shuri up and down. It was in moments like these that she no longer saw the young girl she had watched grow up over the past ten years. The youthful glow had faded over and now left Shuri with a hard exterior that seemed to be ever-present. “Are you sure this is what you want to do ikumkani wam (my queen)?” Okoye offered this out to Shuri now, one shot to think clearly about her decision.

“A hundred percent.” Was Shuri’s simple reply. 

That’s how they ended up here, Ayo holding Liam’s cuffed arms behind his back while Shuri issued blow after blow to his abdomen, turning him effectively into a human punching bag. 

“You done with the games now Liam?” A punch landed on his stomach. “Are you ready to say something and give me the information I need to know?” 

The whole ordeal hurt Okoye to watch but she understood why Shuri had shifted to such drastic means, it was only out of necessity. 

Liam gathered his breath as Shuri removed the jacket she’d been wearing, leaving her in a compression shirt. “No words Liam, really?” She cracked her knuckles and delivered two more blows, one after the other. “That’s okay I’m sure soon enough you will.” 

He shifted in Ayo’s arms for a few seconds for spitting the blood that had pooled in his mouth down at Shuris feet, giving her a defiant stare. 

A smirk rose to Shuri’s face as she looked at the few drops of blood that had gotten on her sneakers. “You know Liam, I had been holding back in the name of my wife. I’ll tell you a secret since, quite frankly, the likelihood of you making it out of Wakanda to repeat this is slim to none. I don’t know much about my wife, we do not have the most conventional marriage so the real things I can say I know about her are few and far in between. But what I do know about my lovely Y/N, she hates violence and views it as the very last play in the book. Convinced me not to kill a spider once just because she said it wasn’t necessary.” 

Shuri smiled at the silly memory of you cussing her out at home when she tried to kill a spider instead of releasing it outside. 

“So, in her name, I haven't been using any of my enhanced strength. This,” She points to the purple bruises that had started to form on the skin of his stomach. “It's all me. But, since you want to be disrespectful and spit blood on my shoes, we’re giving all that up.” Quicker than anyone in the room could have seen, Shuri put her hands up and delivered a devastatingly strong blow to his stomach. Providing enough force that even Ayo had to take a step back to steady herself and absorb some of the shock of the blow. 

You watched in horror from the other side of the glass in the interrogation room as Liam doubled over in pain, gasping for air. Aneka and yourself had been in the room just long enough to watch him spit blood on your wife's shoes. 

“Now, we’re going to try this again.” Shuri started with the same line of questions from before. “Are you working for the United States government?” 

Once Liam pulled himself together, he gave the Queen no answer, just continuing his stare of contempt. 

Shuri chuckled, “Again then? Okay.” She let out another punch, Ayo being more prepared this time held Liam’s body tight. 

“She’s gonna kill him Aneka.” You spoke quietly from the wheelchair as you watched the whole ordeal take place. “We can’t let her kill him, that’s not her.” 

Aneka nodded, “But there is nothing we can do right now my Queen. Ayo and Okoye are in there with her, they will not let it go too far.” 

“I need to get in there.” Shuri wasn’t going to listen to Ayo or Okoye, you didn’t even know if she was going to listen to you. But as far as you were concerned this had already gone far enough. You started moving your wheelchair towards the door but Aneka stopped you. 

“Your majesty I cannot let you in there, bringing you down here was a breach of protocol enough. To have you in there would just be a blatant disregard for the Queen’s wishes.” Aneka declared. 

Both of your attention was brought back to Shuri and Liam when she hit him in the same spot again, leading him to cough up more blood. 

“You go in there and bring my wife out to me or I go in there and bring her out myself. Two choices, you pick.” You folded your arms like a child, waiting for Aneka’s response. 

She looked into the interrogation room and back to you. “Bast you two are perfect for each other. Stubborn just alike.” 

With that she left you, walking out and knocking before entering the other room. 

“ikumkani wam,” She interjected, pulling Shuri’s attention from the man and onto the Dora. 

“What is it Aneka, I am busy.” Shuri looked at her impatiently. 

“uY/n ulapha kwaye angathanda ukuthetha nawe (Y/N is here and would like to talk to you).” Aneka switched to their mother tongue so Liam couldn’t understand what they were saying. 

Shuri’s face faltered for a second. You were here? How long had you been watching? How much had you seen? “I am in the middle of an inter-” 

The sound of you banging on the wall to indicate you didn’t care what she was doing cut Shuri off. She looked at Liam before speaking to Ayo and Okoye. “Put him down, I will be back shortly.” In a second Shuri was out of the room and opening the door to the other side of the interrogation room, meeting your icy gaze. 

“What are you doing out of bed sithandwa sam (my love)?” Shuri’s concern was real, raking her eyes over your body. 

“You lied to me.” You weren't wasting time tip-toeing around the subject, 

“I was protecting you.” Shuri’s justification came quickly, as she took a step closer to you. The light illuminated her face better now and you were able to see the small spots of blood that had splattered on her face. 

Against your better judgment, you called her closer to you “Come here.” She obliged kneeling so you two were at eye level, mimicking the position you two had been in this morning. You reached to hold her face in your hand, wiping the small dots of blood away with your thumb. “You lied to me,” You said again looking into her eyes. 

“I was trying to-” Shuri tried again to explain this to you but you cut her off with a gentle tap to her lips with your free hand. 

“I know you were trying to protect me Shuri, but I am your wife. You can’t lie to me.” The look in your eyes conveyed the seriousness of your comments. 

The excuses started to form in Shuri’s mouth but she stopped them. “I- I know and I’m sorry. I should have told you what I was doing.” She let her head rest in your hand and averted her eyes down, fiddling with the material from your hospital gown. 

“Yes, you should have.” While your words were harsh, the tone and way you caressed her face let her know you weren't really mad with her. 

“Let me make this right umfazi (wife).” Shuri declared sitting up so she looked you in the eyes once again. “The man, his name is Liam Drockers he-” 

“I already know Shuri.” You smiled at your wife who looked at you cluelessly. “Aneka filled me in on our way down here, I know everything. I want to speak with him.” 

Shuri pulled out of your grasp now, appalled you would even ask something like that. “Absolutely not Y/N, there is no logical reason to risk your life by putting you in there with him.”

“First there is no risk to my life, not only is he handcuffed but Ayo and Okoye will be in there with us. Second Shuri, you owe me. This has everything to do with me and you tried to keep it from me, I deserve at least one chance to speak with him. Alone.” You were confident in your rebuttal, Shuri tried to find a counterargument for every point you made but she couldn't. 

“Five minutes with Okoye, Ayo, and Aneka inside with you.” Shuri brought her demands to the table and you thought about it for a second. Was she seriously that worried for your safety that she thought you needed three Dora’s in there with you and a restrained and beaten man? 

“Deal.” 

With that Shuri wheeled you out of the viewing area and to the interrogation room. Aneka held the door open and your wife pushed you through the entryway, stopping at the frame per your request. 

“Oh yeah and pack a bag, we’re going to Genelia tomorrow.” You shut the door leaving your very confused wife on the other side. You two were going where? 

In front of you sat a very bruised Liam Drockers, Ayo, and Okoye on his sides You always found it so funny how no matter how big or bad someone seemed, at the end of the day they were made of flesh and bones just like you. 

Wheeling up to the table you sat and stared at your attacker for a moment. Trying to search for something you were never going to find, a reason or justification. 

“Alright, Liam I’m going to make this very easy for you.” You interlaced your fingers and let them sit on the table, this is where you shined. “In the other room, my wife is waiting with bated breath for me to tell her it's okay to come in here and continue to beat the living shit out of you. Now me personally, as you heard before, I’m not a fan of violence. I think it's an unnecessary evil of the world, something we really can function without.” You paused letting out a chuckle. “Not that I think that you believe the same,” You gestured down to your stomach. “You clearly favor my wife when it comes to that way of thinking.” 

Liam's eyes moved all over you, attempting to size you up as a threat. 

“So, now that you know that much about me, let me tell you how this is going to work. Either A. we can make this super simple, you answer every question I have and agree to the plan we have in place. Or, I call my wife back in here and she beats you to a pulp.” 

A wheezing breath came from your attacker and you couldn’t help but notice how weak he looked now, the beating from Shuri having done a good chunk of damage. “I’m not sayin shit, I know my rights.”

You smiled at this, leaning closer to him. “Your rights? You think your rights will protect you here?” The look on Liam’s face changed for a split second, his facade slipping. “You’re in the basement interrogation room of the most technologically advanced country in the world because you shot one of their Queens. You were flown in on a top-secret jet, there's no record of you ever even being in Wakanda. Nobody knows you’re here.” 

“That’s- that’s not true.” Liam stammered out. “There are people out there who know who I am, who are looking for me.” 

This got the heartiest laugh from you yet. “Mallory? Really? You think she’d save you?” The idea he was pushing was almost comical. “You were a gun for hire, you served your purpose and now there's nothing left for you to do, you were disposable from the beginning. Do you seriously believe she’d risk a national incident to save one measly hit man?” 

The truthfulness of your words hit Liam like a ton of bricks, there was no getting out of this. 

“So,” You began. “I’ll ask the question my wife has been trying to ask. What the fuck was your mission and who do you report to.” 

Liam shifted in his chair, looking around the room as he assessed his situation. “It all started with Mallory.” 

Taglist:  @shuriszn @sokkasbae25 @verachii @cuddl3s4shur1 @takeyaki @jinnie10101 @letitias-fav @sweetalittleselfish-honey @beautybyfire @6-noir @mocha-aya @yvxmpire @mysticalmarss @ziayamikaelson @youralphawolf72 @n7cje @inmyheadimobsessed @shurisjournal @shurisbigtoe @saintwrld @pinkwright @chatitajens @playhousedistee @motheroffae @injeolmiee @tchhairbandhere @._mrqs @msudaku @lppriceisright @bratydoll @blackqueengold @iheartsolo @cafehyunji @abenomeiiii @naomis-daydream @ilroachsworld @locoforshuri @nrc-06

[nori-writes]

Hii! I was wondering if you could do either headcanons or a small fic for; Cassidy with a chubby fem s/o? It could go from how they met to the established relationship but anything would be great ^^

Cassidy x Chubby!Fem!Reader

Cassidy x Reader

W/C: 850+

A/N: Oh my god! Thank you so much for the request, I would love to write more like this! I really hope I did your ideas justice. One last thing, while writing this I did also write an angst/comfort that goes along with this fic, I’ll be posting that soon! (also I don’t know how far into the future OW2 is after OW1 disbanded, I’ve seen some places say only a year and others say 2-3 years, for the sake of this we’re going to say 2-3 years) Tysm anon!

You guys met between Overwatch 1 and 2!

He met you in a small bar at night.

When you guys met you were sat alone at the bar.

He is flirty, but a gentleman of course, he asked to sit next to you,

You said yes

Why wouldn’t you

“What is such a lovely lady doing sitting here all alone?” A gruff voice said behind you. As you turned around you were met with a man who looked to be about six foot with a cowboy appearance which held a smile, that of which you returned.

“I just came out alone, needed some time to myself, you’re open to sit here though, as long as you aren’t a creep,” You let out with a little laugh at the end.

He held a hand to his chest taking an offended look to his face, “Me? A creep, never,” He said, removing his hat and taking his seat next to you, “I’m Cassidy, Cole Cassidy.”

“Y/N L/N,”

Cassidy held a glass in his hand taking a sip, “Quite the beautiful name that fits a beautiful person.”

You felt your face heat up at his comment, “You’re hilarious, but I don’t know about all that cowboy.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he took it out, scanning it before quickly finishing his drink, “I’m sorry to quickly cut this off but, I’ve gotta go. But, it’s been lovely meeting you even if it wasn’t for long. Would ya mind if I asked for your number?”

Who were you to say no? “Of course,” you said with a smile, pulling out an old receipt from your purse and a pen, writing your number on the back of it, and handing it to him.

He gave you a quick smile thanking you before heading on his way, not forgetting to text you that night.

After you guys talk for awhile you learn about Overwatch and such

You guys also finally go out!!!!

You choose where you want to go on a first date, he’s totally down for anything you want to do.

He is literally the perfect significant other after you two are together for a while.

He loves contact with you, cuddling? No need to ask, he’s already there.

He loves laying on your stomach, thighs, anywhere and everywhere he just loves it.

He can and will cup your face for the lil smoosh look (That’s the best i can describe it i hope that makes sense)

He finds it absolutely adorable!

Ever upset about how you look? He will literally sit there for hours talking about how much he loves every single atom of your body.

He would kiss your body up and down if that’s what he needed to do to get his point across to you.

Don’t even get him started with pet names, Pumpkin, darlin’, sweetheart, doll, sugar, and so so so many more

PDA? Yes. Your his, nobody else’s, he’s gotta let everyone know

He doesn’t get jealous, just protective

He totally gets jealous

By the time Overwatch is back together you guys have been together for a couple years.

You’re not an agent but you two do still live together.

It is canon that Cassidy loves chubbiness and you cannot argue, it’s final.

Your eyes slowly drifted open from the feeling of a pair of arms being wrapped around you and Cassidy’s resting figure flooding into your sight. All you could do was appreciate mornings like this. Mornings where Cole was home, he was in no rush to leave or get ready. It was just you and him.

You took in his figure, his silky chocolate brown hair in a bedhead type state with an ethereal expression, you wished you could stay like this forever. Moments like these only to be interrupted by the growling of your stomach.

As you tried to make your way out of bed you realised that Cassidy’s arms still had their hold around your body. You gave Cole a small little shake, attempting to wake him up, a hum to be let out as his eyes opened immediately fixating his gaze onto you.

“Will you let you out please?” You asked with pleading eyes, much to no avail.

The male let out a groan before a deep, gravely morning voice of his tiredly spoke, “Five more minutes…” The end of his words trailed off as sleep began to take over him again.

You shook him again this time with a whine attached, “Baby please, I’m hungry. I’ll come right back, I promise,” You wiggled but his grip around you only tightened at your attempts.

“Five more minutes sweetheart, then you can go get whatever food you want, alright?”

You nodded to his words, “But only five,” you said, finally agreeing, “no more than that.”

Content with your answer Cole found his head laid onto your chest. However, you knew five minutes was never only five minutes. But, a couple extra minutes in the morning with your lover never killed anyone.

If you enjoyed, my master list as always is here 💜

[wsdanon]

hi \o/ i mentioned a while ago i was likely going to be posting more wips here--especially if i'm going a while without posting actual fics. this one is a fuga four pirate au \o/

like with the vampire au, i have some information surrounding what is actually written here (backstory + future plot), but i'm unlikely to continue writing it right now due to having other multi-chaptered fics to focus on. anything else at the moment will likely be wip snippets like this one

it's 3k words, but it cuts off pretty abruptly. reblogs appreciated \o/

Honestly, this isn’t Pac’s worst day. It’s pretty up there, but going to jail and losing his leg manages to beat it out. 

After all, this is just a local jail. More of a holding cell than anything. For petty crimes or executions. Pac, luckily, is in for the former. Unluckily for him, he’s separated from Mike and hasn’t been able to breathe properly since they threw him in here. 

He’ll be spending a week in here, or until bail. 

It’s only been a day. And excuse him for being dramatic, but he doesn’t think he’s going to make it. 

He can imagine Mike is probably weighing up the pros and cons of staging a breakout. After all, it’s only a week. Breaking out might just put an unnecessary target on their backs, and they’ll have to move towns again. 

Logically, he gets that. 

In reality he’s in the corner of the cell with his knees hugged tight to his chest. The cell is big enough that from here he can’t see the guard—which is both a blessing and a curse. 

He’s fine being alone. But being separated from Mike makes his skin itch. He’s almost desperate for any kind of company, even if it’s just some bored guard not paying attention to him. 

And then—like his prayers are answered—he hears two sets of footsteps, and the cell door unlocking. He looks up to see a man being shoved—stumbling, but not falling—and the door being slammed shut again behind him. 

“Well…” The man shrugs, and sighs, and turns to inspect his new quarters. His eyes catch on Pac’s. A pretty smile crosses his face. “Oh! Hi!”

“Uh… hi.” Pac uncurls himself from his corner, and gets to his feet. “Nice to meet you?”

“Nice to meet you!” He sticks out his hand for Pac to shake. Pac’s eyes catch on the pirate branding on his wrist. “I’m Captain Felps. To some.”

“To some?”

Felps makes a hesitant noise before admitting, “Felps who crashed the boat to others.” 

Pac laughs, and shakes his hand. He should really be more hesitant—it’s always a gamble with pirates. Him and Mike have run into plenty who were perfectly honourable, and plenty who they’d happily watch hang. 

This pirate, though, seems like the former. If Pac is a good judge of character, which he’s often told he isn’t. 

“I’m Pac.” 

“What are you in for?” 

Felps takes a seat on one of the beds, and Pac takes the one opposite him. 

“Stealing.” Then he rolls his eyes. “Allegedly.”

He did, in fact, steal. He stole a lot more than they charged him for, actually. But they’ll never get him to admit it out loud. 

“Allegedly?” Felps raises his eyebrows. “How long will I have your company for then?” 

“Uh… six days now?” Pac looks out the tiny barred window—night has fallen—and nods to himself. “Yeah, six days. Well, and tonight.”

“Nice, nice.” His eyes dart out to where Pac assumes he might be able to see the guard, and sighs. “Longer than I’ll have to live, apparently.”

“Oh.” Pac shifts, uncomfortable. He’s interacted with plenty of people on death row before, but he never knows how to react. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s for piracy.” Felps admits. Then, he gestures to Pac. “Allegedly.”

“Allegedly.” Pac echoes back with a slight laugh. 

The conversation between them dwindles. Pac is just starting to consider lying down and trying to get some sleep, when Felps stands up on the bed and looks out the window. 

“Hello?” He calls lowly, and Pac wonders what the hell his game plan is. A quick look at the guard shows he’s unbothered. Although, admittedly, he’s probably used to desperate pleas for help. “Anyone? Cellbit?” 

Pac’s heart freezes in his chest. 

Surely he can’t mean… Cell, right? They left Cell for dead. And Felps doesn’t seem like the kind of man to get along with him. He’s nice, for starters. 

Ignoring that Pac also thought Cell was nice at first. 

No. It’s just a really awful coincidence because the universe likes to taunt him. Cell’s dead. Rotting somewhere on an abandoned island. 

“Anyone out there?” Felps continues.

“It’s just guards.” Pac mutters. “The window faces into the fort.”

Felps looks back at the guard. Then he jumps off the bed, and crowds in close to Pac. His eyes search Pac’s face. Pac feels his cheeks grow warm. 

“Do you know how to get out of here?” He asks in a whisper. 

“No, sorry.” Pac shakes his head. “I just had a lot of free time today.”

“Damn…” 

Felps goes to move back, but Pac gestures for him to stay close. 

“Do you think your crew will try to help you?” He whispers. 

“I’m not going to count on it.” Felps says without even stopping to think about it. 

And then he’s up by the window again, calling out for… anyone, it seems. Pac lies down on his bed. At least he didn’t expect to get much sleep, anyway. 

“Hello? Anyone out there?” 

Pac wonders how he got into this situation. He didn’t respond with an outright no, so it probably wasn’t his crew betraying him. 

“Cellbit?”

It could’ve been a single member of his crew, though. A first mate, perhaps, looking to become captain. If Cellbit really is somehow Cell, Pac wouldn’t put it past him. 

“Anyone? Hello?”

Or maybe he was just unlucky. In the wrong place at the wrong time. 

“Cucurucho?”

That causes Pac to sit up. 

“Wait, wait, why are you calling for him?” 

Felps looks down at him, something unreadable on his face. Then he shrugs. 

“Why not?” 

Pac can think of a hundred reasons why not, and he’s surprised a pirate can’t think of a hundred more. 

“Cucurucho?” Felps calls again, dragging the name out at the end.

Then he laughs despairingly, and rests his forehead against the bricks. 

Pac closes his eyes. As good as he is at escaping, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to help much in the amount of time Felps has likely been given. He doesn’t know enough about the fort layout, or the guards’ patrol routes. It takes time to learn all that. Especially when he’s confined to just this jail cell. And he isn’t about to risk worse punishments and further separation from Mike on a half-assed escape plan. 

The bed creaks as Felps—presumably—sits down on it. He’s muttering to himself, but it’s quiet enough that Pac can’t make out any of it. 

Pac spins attempts at comfort in his mind, trying to figure out the best one. Nothing seems adequate. All he can really offer is a distraction, so—

—There’s a commotion outside their cell. 

Pac sits up enough just in time to see someone skilfully kill the guard that was stationed down here. He’s wearing a navy officer’s uniform that’s splattered with blood. 

“Cellbit?” Felps asks, hesitantly. Like he’s not quite sure what to make of the situation. 

“Felps!” 

The man runs up to the bars into the lantern light, and Pac is seeing a ghost. 

The blood turns to ice in his veins. He presses his back to the wall behind him, and tries to make himself look small. 

Cell’s eyes haven’t caught on him yet. His entire focus is on Felps—a delighted smile on his face as he watches the pirate step closer. 

Pac’s leg aches. 

“What are you doing here?” Felps asks. 

“I’m getting you out!” Cell replies, almost offended. Then he ducks down to rifle through the belongings of the guard. “Obviously.”

“Obviously.” Felps echoes. He looks back at Pac. “Do you want to come with us?”

Pac’s breath is stuttering in his chest. His eyes are wide as they dart between Felps’ open expression, and a man who should be dead. 

“Got it.” Cell stands up. 

And pauses. 

“Cellbit.” Felps says his name with a tone of despair, and reaches through the bars to try and grab the keys. “Open the door.”

Cellbit dances out of the way. 

“Say you owe me one?” 

“I owe you one.” Felps responds, easier than Pac thought he would. “Let me out. Please.”

“And I can collect on it whenever?” Cell pushes. “And you’ll have to do it?”

“Well.” Felps stops grabbing for the key, and lets his arms rest loosely on the horizontal bars. “Hold on. How much is one?”

“One is one! We can discuss it later.”

“Cellbit.” Felps sighs. “Just open the door.”

“Fine.” 

He does so. Grumbling to himself a little as he tries to find the right key. 

He’s not… entirely the spitting image of Cell. His hair is longer. There’s a white streak in it. And despite just trying to bribe Felps, there’s a distinct lack of cruelty in the way he holds himself. 

That doesn’t really mean anything, though, when he nods his head in Pac’s direction, and Pac’s entire body tenses. 

“Is your friend coming?”

He hasn’t recognised Pac yet. Which Pac chalks up the shadows of the cell. But if Pac accepts, there’ll be no hiding. 

If he stays here, though, the guards could take out their frustrations over an escaped pirate on him. Besides, maybe Cell doesn’t even remember him. 

“Pac?” Felps prompts. 

And Cell’s head snaps up to look at him.

“Pac?” 

Well, there goes that hope. Lady Luck once again laughs at him from the heavens. 

“Oh, you two know each other?” 

“You could… say that.” Cell frowns, and goes back to unlocking the door. 

It swings open, and Pac is frozen. 

Felps, on the other hand, has no problem stepping out. Even when Cellbit punches his arm, he doesn’t do more than let out an ow, and rub at the spot where he was hit. 

He doesn’t seem afraid. At all. 

“What was that for?” Felps complains. 

“You’re so stupid.” Cellbit bites out. “I was worried.”

Hesitantly, Pac stands. 

He really does need to get out of here. They’ll probably charge him with being an accomplice if he doesn’t. Cell eyes him warily as he approaches, so Pac tries to focus instead on the way Felps smiles at him. 

“It’ll be better if we stick together.” Cellbit says, and Pac can feel the weight of his gaze lingering on him. “Let’s go.” 

They have to follow Cellbit to get out. Pac makes a point of keeping Felps between them at all times, but that’s a false comfort. If Cell really wanted to kill him, Pac doubts Felps would intervene. 

Because Felps may be nice, but he’s a pirate. And he’s a pirate who’s friends with Cell.

Man, he really is a bad judge of character.

The alarms start ringing about halfway through their escape. Cellbit curses, and twists abruptly to take them down a different pathway. 

This one is narrower. They run through one at a time—Cellbit in the lead, dragging Felps by the hand behind him, and Pac taking up the rear. 

He wishes he’d thought to pick up the guard’s sword. Or the gun. Instead, all he can do is look behind himself as much as he can without stumbling, and hope that Cellbit will give him something to defend himself with if someone tries to follow them. 

Luckily, though, Cellbit seems to know what he’s doing. They get to a small alcove—where he’s clearly stashed some things—without much trouble. 

He quickly throws a cloak to Felps, who puts it on gratefully. Then he locks eyes with Pac. And tosses him the other. 

“I only brought two.” Cellbit explains, shouldering the bag, and getting ready to move. 

“You take it then.” Pac holds the cloak out to him. “I’m just in for thievery, I doubt they remember my face. But, uh, you—you look like you’ve been stabbed, you know? With all the blood? They might, like, ask questions.” 

Cellbit doesn’t move, staring at the material in Pac’s outstretched hand with a frown. 

“If they know my face, they’ll know yours, Cellbit.” Felps says. 

“Okay.” Cellbit trades his bag for the cloak. “Put this on, keep your head down, and be careful.”

Pac nods, trying to ignore the way his hands are shaking after Cell’s fingers brushed his. He puts the bag on as Cellbit throws on the cloak. It mostly hides the bloodied navy uniform. 

“Okay,” Cellbit gestures for them to inch closer, “we just need to wait for the signal.”

“What’s the signal?” Pac asks. 

An explosion sounds in the distance. It’s too far away for even the aftershocks to hit them, but Pac still jumps. 

“That.” 

Cellbit darts off towards the fort wall, and Pac scrambles to follow him. Felps is by his side as he runs. 

Another explosion—still far away from them. Pac hears commotion in the distance. They dash up the stairs to the top of the wall just in time to hear the hasty march of soldiers below them. 

“Pac.” Cell whispers, holding a hand out. Pac tenses. “Rope.”

He stares back at Cell with wide, uncomprehending eyes. 

“What?”

“The bag. There’s rope.” 

Pac scrambles to get it out and pass it off to Cellbit. It has large knots spaced out evenly throughout it.

An explosion—even more distant this time—goes off while Cellbit secures the rope for them to climb down it. He forces Felps to go first. 

And then Pac. 

The distance really isn’t far. If Pac drops it would hurt but he’d survive. So, he tries to ignore all thoughts of Cell cutting the rope and letting him fall. Instead, he focuses on not slipping off of the hand and foot holds. 

He lands a little roughly, but Felps’ hands come up to steady him. He restrains himself from collapsing into the hold. There’ll be plenty of time to calm down from the stress of escape, and Cell later on with Mike. 

Cellbit lands with a dull thud. He leaves the rope, and leads them through the bushes, and into town. 

Once they hit the streets, Pac feels a little safer. A small crowd has formed, staring off at the fire, and smoke in the distance. It’s easy enough to sneak behind them, and once they do, it’s clear that the guards haven’t made it into town yet. 

They duck quickly through alleyways until they hit a main road again. Once there, Cellbit encourages them to slow down into a more casual gait. 

“So,” Cellbit asks, “where’s your boyfriend?”

“Mike?” 

“Yeah, Mike. I’m assuming you’ll want to go to him?”

“Yeah.” Pac shrugs. “He’s either at the store, or at the house.”

“Well, lead us there.” 

The thing is, is that Cell always had a tone about him. He had a couple of tones, actually, and all of them felt like they were sticking to you. The sickly sweet promises of safety like being covered in suffocating honey, the low threats rolling over them like waves, and the explosive anger stabbing into them like knives. 

Pac rarely walked out of an encounter without feeling like Cell’s words were clouded around him. 

This, however, was said so casually Pac doesn’t know what to think of it. It doesn’t feel like Cell’s friendly schtick. It doesn’t have the pressing weight of a threat. 

And Pac stumbles into the lead, taking them towards their shop, because it doesn’t feel like revenge. Maybe he’s naive for that. 

Cellbit and Felps bicker next to him. The words flow in one ear, and out the other. 

By the time Pac gets to the shop, he honestly can’t say whether this is a trap of some kind or not. It’s likely that Cell just wants them both in the same place so he can finish the job from all those years ago… 

…But every minute they spend walking together, Pac is sure he’s changed. He’s light as he talks with Felps. And Felps talks back without any apparent fear of angering him. If it wasn’t for his name, and his looks Pac doesn’t think he’d recognise him. 

Still, though, he hesitates in front of the door. Cell can change, but also want revenge. 

“Cute shop.” Felps comments. 

And Pac sends him a shaky smile, and a murmured, “thanks.” 

The lanterns are on inside. He’s pretty sure Mike is here. 

“Let me just…” He turns to Cellbit. “Let me just, um… explain. Before he sees you.”

“Oh. Uh, okay, sure.” 

Cellbit steps away from the doorframe and windows. Pac knocks. 

There’s a commotion inside, and then the door is swinging open. 

“Fuck, Pac, that was you?” Mike hisses, urging him inside. “I was trying to get ready to leave town just in case, but I didn’t think it was actually you.” 

“I had help.” 

Pac gestures back towards Felps, who waves. 

“Hi, I’m Felps! Nice to meet you!” 

“Uh…” Mike scans over him critically. “I’m Mike. Nice to meet you, too.”

“And that’s not all…” He trails off, and winces as Mike frowns at him.

“What?” Mike turns to continue gathering stuff into their bags. “Did something bad happen?”

“Depends. Um… you remember Cell, right?” 

“How could I forget?” Mike spits out. Then he turns back to Pac. “Wait-“

“He’s actually like, super nice now!” Pac says quickly—the words pouring from his mouth before he really thinks about them. “He helped me escape, and didn’t even threaten me once! I think he’s changed, you know?” 

“He went to therapy.” Felps adds helpfully. 

“He went to—wait,” Pac turns to Felps, “did he?” 

“Mhm!” Felps nods, an easy smile on his face. It’s… calming. A little. Makes him feel better about the fact that Mike is probably one step away from killing him himself. “I took him there.” 

“See!” Pac faces Mike again. “He went to therapy.”

Mike is staring at him, his mouth dropped open in shock. Then he groans, and drags his hands down his face. 

“Pac.” He grabs Pac’s shoulders, and shakes them. “You cannot be serious.“

“I am.” Pac confirms, guilt swirling in his stomach. “He’s actually, like, right outside. Sorry.”

--

sorry… that confrontation was going to take some brain power to write, but it's been months and i still haven't written it so i don't think i'll get there any time soon. I hope you guys enjoyed it anyway though \o/

(also: felps and cellbit's conversation about felps owing cellbit one if cellbit lets him out was taken from their federation escape stream because i love it)

[notasapleasure]

WIP ask meme

@stripedroseandsketchpads tagged me in this. And oh my god. If you think there are Too Many Words in the fic I publish, you should see my poor notes app. Here is a sneak peek of its contents. I haven't edited for brevity/those I'm actively working on, these are just all the unfinished files I could find. Some I don't intend to do any more with, others I'd really like to pick up again. The only ones being actively worked on right now are the Andor Saga AU and the first one on the list for Andor.

I put ALL the Lymond I could find in mainly for @oughtaagh who has been leaving the most lovely comments on my Lymond fics that I have totally failed to respond to. I'm sorry! I will cycle back round to Lymond one day, it's inevitable <3

Tagging uh.... @distressednoise, @r0b0tb0y, @faceofpoe, @donnaimmaculata, @batri-jopa, @elwenyere, @notabuddhist and anyone else who wants to say I tagged them! Also sorry if you'd already been tagged, I'm not keeping up with the dash very well at the moment!

Anyway please send me asks/comments/cease and desist orders about these. xxx

ANDOR

C: We decided we were thirsty, and you wanted to go to Cavo's. As yet untitled Brassian alternative scene - what if instead of a great collaborative cover story this was a great collaborative fuck? Almost(?) finished?

Saga AU pt 2. This actually does have a working title of 'The Bear and the Berserk' but this doc is just a short bullet point list of plot things for a specific part of the fic.

Cassian pov. It's a Cassian pov chapter! For...drumroll...the first chapter of the Saga AU pt 2! The rest is going to be back to Brasso FPN. The file actually includes a rough first draft of chapter 2, as well.

"You're up early this morning," Bix says lightly. A follow-up chapter to Only Ever Just One Night started back when I had epic plans for continuing this, bringing in Cinta and Vel and Luthen, whumping the hell out of Brasso, and having Cassian rescue him. This is just one scene of awkward conversation with tea though.

Oh god it developed Plot. Related to the previous chapter - a bullet-pointed list of things that might have happened in this fic I Wil Not Write (not least as I'd rather just see what happens in S2 first anyway).

AND THEN WE DANCED

It was a sunny day in Batumi... Patchy few paragraphs of the next chapter of Inchoate.

Plannnnns (again). Plans for how Inchoate would/will continue.

THE LYMOND CHRONICLES

Canon-verse/other AUs

Multiple pieces of follow-up to The next man with a ladder, Danny/Jerott post-canon: It was dark when they rode into the port town... [Chapter 3, basically done, plus most of Chapter 4 but it devolves into broken paragraphs at the end]. "I'm going to the other bed," Danny said in a voice like someone was standing on his throat... [??? there's loads of this written! This is the file where they Get Down To It] Stitch the scenes together [a few paragraphs in which I hoped to make a logical leap from Chapter 4 to fucking, but seemingly never quite got there].

Lymondar saga draft. Actually two files of the abortive first effort at writing a saga AU. I was trying much harder to write in saga style and playing with lacunae in a way that was fun for me but exceedingly nerdy. I think I found the idea more fun than the execution, too.

St Seb. Remember ages ago when I was writing a post-canon 'Jerott gets shot full of arrows and has to admit his feelings because he thinks he's gonna die' fic? This is the file! Some bullet points and some text, some of which I even posted as Sunday sixes way back when iirc.

Fait prosperer qui n'est à croire vain. Fuck me, there's LOADS of this. Pawn in Frankincense/Ringed Castle AU where Marthe steals Lymond's ride with Kiaya Khatun and persuades her they should take over Russia together. Meanwhile Francis is left with Jerott. Hahaha. It kept getting longer because Francis kept trying to escape and I kept finding ways to drag him back, but the 'and now kiss!!' with the two of them behaving in character was just not coming easily.

Francis Crawford's Holistic Inquisition Agency. I wrote this??? One chapter of a Lymond/Dirk Gently AU, where Francis is obviously Dirk and Jerott is a furious/bemused Todd.

She tried every instrument, she redrew every chart. A few short chapters, never finished, of Marthe wrestling with her role in canon and her fate as assigned by La Dame. A couple more paragraphs of a similar sort of thing in Volos.

Malta. Half-arsed few paragraphs of wondering how Jerott would cope with meeting a fellow Knight being imprisoned for sodomy.

Band AU (my 1980s rock band AU for the series, see also @theartistknownaslymond)

Au of an Au. What if, after the Battle of the Bands at Solway, Jerott went to stay at the Edinburgh townhouse for a while and he and Francis got to collaborating in the shed? There's quite a lot of this and it's quite fluffy.

Out out out! The band celebrate Thatcher's downfall. Happy epilogues for everyone! However it's an epic task trying to do all the characters justice, so I was trying to write it as vignettes to match each song on the playlist. Six-ish are written. And earlier draft with plan for characters intercting is in Ding dong the witch is dead.

Jerott/Marthe - four times it just about worked, one time it really didn't. What it says on the tin? aka you just know Jerott has said 'Francis' instead of Marthe at least once when he comes. Only the beginning of the first time exists in this chapter, but I think I explored the idea elsewhere, whenever I dig up that file...

DWTH missing scene. Jerott/OC missing scene from Don't wake the house. Not finished, probably not going to be finished. I think I have enough Jerott smut on the go.

Workshop. Patchy draft of pre-canon Jerott and GRM 'therapy' session in which GRM learns about Francis Crawford and what a hold he has on the boy he thought of as his own plaything. GRM doesn't like sharing.

F/P. Draft of a fluffy kiss prompt someone (@erinaceina? @notfromcold?) sent for Francis/Philippa. Post-canon pregnant Philippa and worried Francis written when it was too hot in summer. It's probably complete enough to post tbh! hmu if you want it posting.

Jerott behaving badly (again). Somehow this ended up in the 'comfortember' section of the notepad, which...no? Maybe it was intended to be originally, but it grew a life of its own. Post-canon, post split-up with the OC, pre-getting together with Danny. Joining the mile high club and regretting it, then ending up crashing at Joleta's (who he meets coincidentally at the airport, NOT who he's screwing in the airplane loo!!). It's meant to end up cathartic, but didn't get finished :') I'm actually really pleased with what I have - post-canon Joleta is so much fun to write!

Somewhere (Google Drive?? an actual Word doc??) there is also loads and loads and LOADS of Pawn in Frankincense band AU around Baron Morgan's place (the Aga Morat), featuring fucked-up Francis/Morgan, fucked up Marthe/Kiaya, fucked up Francis/Kiaya, and bewildered cold turkey Jerott. There's also some Jerott/Marthe from later on.

Other

Crossover. A sequel to my ATWD fic I will shake mountains, where Merab and Irakli encounter celebrity diners in the restaurant they work in: respected musician Francis Crawford and friends take the boys for a drink and share queer/artistic inspiration/history with them. There's quite a lot written but I couldn't quite manage to finish it off.

St Mary's. Another ATWD/Lymond crossover, placing Merab and Irakli among the mercenaries of St Mary's. Mostly bullet points.

3m. Furious that there was no fic for the film Three Months I decided to jot down a scene I wanted to see afterwards. I wrote four lines and cannot remember what my plan was at all.

[crestfallercanyon]

20 Questions for Fic Writers! Thank you so much for the tag, @incorrectcoldflashblog !! I'm excited to jump in (and have definitely answered too long windedly, haha, whoops)

How many works do you have on AO3? sixty-six!

What’s your total A03 word count? I was going to guess like over 100,000, which I guess I was technically correct because it’s 717,161!

What fandoms do you write for? A bunch! On this profile I’ve written for The Flash/Legends of Tomorrow, The Maze Runner, Bandersnatch (Black Mirror), Teen Wolf, Inception, and recently have gotten very into Shameless!

What are your top five fics by kudos? All coldflash (pretty sure it’s the most active fandom I’ve ever written for at a more active time, so, makes sense): a) Lullabies for Little Criminals (719 kudos) b) distract me from my last disaster (600) c) Something Out of Nothing (557) d) getting back to fine (512) e) Didn’t Change a Thing (424)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I try to, and for the longest time I kept up with it. Then I got overwhelmed with a bunch of stuff around late 2021 and into 2022 and stopped. Now i’ve started again, but there’s still a huge backlog that I haven’t gotten to. Please know that I appreciate you if you’ve commented!

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I’ve written so many angsty fics, I don’t think I could name a single one, so here are my major fandoms (5+ fics) breakdown: a) This Time of Doubt (The Flash, coldflash) Len knows there’s something wrong with this timeline, and if he has to go through Barry to prove it, he will. (TW: Implied/Referenced Character Death) b) Red Lights, They Blink Your Name (The Maze Runner, minally) Gally’s going to follow that signal, even if it leads him into the dark. c) it’d be better if you flayed me alive (Shameless (US), gallavich) Mickey can't believe he agreed to let Ian shave his face before his fuckin' court hearing.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? a) Conflicts of Interest (The Maze Runner, thomally) My maze runner criminal law lawyers slow burn au. b) What’s Mine is Yours (The Flash, coldflash) Barry and Len move in together. c) Nocturne, Murmures Milkovich Turns out, Ian still has things to learn about his husband.

Do you get hate on your fic? Only once, and I actually deleted that fic in its entirety. It was the first longfic coldflash I ever posted, and it rattled me pretty good. It was quite nasty. Since then, never again! (and I wouldn’t delete it this time around, I don’t think, but it was a multi chap and I was so stunned by the comment I just never wanted to continue writing it, so).

Do you write smut? I have tried, but I'm not the most confident in it. I’ve got Scheherazade in coldflash fandom, and then two thomally fics: Corpus Delecti (which is a fic you won’t see unless you’re logged in) and then he goes down easy for me.

Do you write crossovers? I do not.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not to my knowledge.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Not to my knowledge.

Have you ever co-written a fic? Not yet!

What‘s your all-time favourite ship? I genuinely don’t know how to answer this question. I don’t really have one. To be perfectly honest, if someone writes it in a way that’s compelling, I’ll probably enjoy it.

What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Probably Stranger Than Your Sympathy. I’m sorry, I want to, but there’s just some foundational things that I would change (mainly Newt’s characterization, I actually prefer how I characterize him now)

What’s your writing strengths? I like to think I'm good with characterization and like... individual internal narration. The whole reason I write fanfiction is because I love exploring characters' heads and their dynamics and their world (or how they interact with aus). So, I like to think that what I write is true to character and makes impactful scenes.

What’s your writing weaknesses? I get easily inspired, so I have left some fics behind (I am so sorry Aphelion and Shiva, I will come back for youuuuu); and then I have worked hard on it, but I occasionally get very long winded and have a hard time killing darlings for the sake of pacing.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I’d love to be able to write in multiple languages, but I’m only fluent in English. At most, I could maybe write in Spanish, but I still would be worried about it being accurate.

First fandom you wrote for? Um, before I really knew what fandom was or anything like that, I wrote Naruto fanfic The first fandom I wrote for knowingly and participated in was Fire Emblem Three Houses.

Favourite fic you’ve ever written? Ufda, this is such a hard question. I’m again going to break it down into fandoms — a) Something Out of Nothing (The Flash, coldflash) b) Thou Shalt Not (The Maze Runner, thomally)(tbh this one changes all the time, ask me tomorrow it will probably be something different). c) I think it is all these things I have left to say to you Now it's my turn to tag! I'm very excited to do so, so here we go (and of course, no pressure!)! @blue-summers , @its-tea-time-darling , @itsthemxze , @sampharos , @callivich , @michellemisfit , @pathsofoak , @mmmichyyy , @go-catch-a-chickn , @sophiainspace , @sproutwings , @iasconsumesmedia

ALSO if anyone else would like to do this, go ahead!

[martsonmars]

Hello friends! First SSS of the year for me. Also an early post because I want to write after sleeping and maybe some validation early in the day will help 💖 I have six snippets from six WIPs to share (only the fifth one written today, which makes me sad because I really wanted to share new new words, but it's okay) and I want to talk about them, so I'm throwing everything under the cut with the tags.

You can vote for the WIP you'd like me to continue the most (except Like We Had A Clue, because I know people are waiting for an update and it would skew the vote hahaha). Pick one of the other 5! Though as always I'll follow inspiration and not what the people want.

Love you all <3 hope you're taking care of yourself in these trying times.

1. First EGF WIP. I have many ideas for EGF, but considering a) possible writer's blocks, b) exams, c) other non EGF related WIPs, I honestly don't know how much I'll manage to write. This one is the most “urgent” one because it's a collab with @aroace-genderfluid-sheep and he's already done so many cool things for it and I'm so excited!!! The snippet I'm sharing is all I've written for this fic. Oh well!

“You could've at least sent us to Dante's inferno. That would've been intellectually stimulating.”

“This place is plenty stimulating.”

Of course it is. It's a fucking sex dungeon.

2. Second EGF WIP. I shared something from this already. There's hope I'll finish this one because it's short, but knowing myself I can't make promises hahaha.

“I’m sorry,” they say. Their voice is deep and smooth, like I imagine a cello would sound if it could talk. “I don’t think I can have dinner with you tonight.”

I can’t hide how much it stings. Of course my monster under the bed would come out just to reject me.

3. Like We Had A Clue. Chapter 5 is outlined in detail but I'm still struggling so much with it. Have some sentences I might have shared already in the past because I wrote them months ago!

“Are you trying to trap me, Snow? Keep me here to make food for you forever?”

“What if I am?”

I raise an eyebrow. His hand is still on my arm. He lets it fall.

4. WIP I shared from a couple of weeks ago. I want to have fun with this so I'm not forcing myself to write it, but I also really want to finish it. It's a struggle, always 🤣

(There's nothing innocent about four thousand words of Fangvald having a pity wank after Cherry spat on his face and demanded to know the true motives behind his betrayal.)

But it's fanfiction. Exploring fictional worlds and fictional characters and fictional relationships.

It would say nothing about me if he hadn't also linked two of my longest 4am rants about loneliness and deserving love.

5. Mystery WIP. I started plotting it yesterday and I've already lost steam. We'll see if it ever gets written.

25/12, 11:27AM

basiltea: Of course I'll help you.

basiltea: You can't be trusted to handle this alone and make it work.

Excalisbury: I LOVE YOU

basiltea: I'm just saving you from yourself.

6. Picture book story! The issue with this one is that I have to rewrite it completely. I have @johnwgrey's super useful notes, but I hate rewriting and editing with a burning passion, and this story needs so much work it hurts. But I'll do it!

Of course Snow had no reason to trust him. The fact that Baz had decided he’d never even try to hurt him again couldn’t erase five years of antagonism. Especially because Snow didn’t know about his change of heart. (It would’ve been ridiculous. Hey, Snow, I decided I don’t hate you anymore. Quite the opposite, instead. Can I kiss you?)

That was a lot. I feel like Simon and Baz are possessing me because I want to write SO MUCH, I literally can feel the words pushing to get out, but the second I open a doc it all fades out. Ugh. Hopefully I'll be more motivated in the morning.

So many no pressure tags for you lovelies:

@wellbelesbian @urban-sith @tea-brigade @sillyunicorn @mostlymaudlin @facewithoutheart @palimpsessed @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @forabeatofadrum @fatalfangirl @prettylightsbigcity @whatevertheweather @jbrrring @confused-bi-queer @moodandmist @bookish-bogwitch @letraspal @dragoneggos @captain-aralias @takitalks @excalisbury (stealing your @ for Simon's Discord username hahaha) @otherworldsivelivedin @cutestkilla @ileadacharmedlife @gekkoinapeartree @bazzybelle @basiltonbutliketheherb @messofthejess @ivelovedhimthroughworse @nightimedreamersworld @artsyunderstudy @foolofabookwyrm-activated @ionlydrinkhotwater @yellobb @orange-peony @ic3-que3n @whogaveyoupermission @katmiscellanious @yeonjunenby @erzbethluna @larkral @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @shrekgogurt @raenestee @onepintobean @stitchyqueer @hushed-chorus

[comfortlesshurt]

August 2024 Plans!

Hello again, and I am sorry to tell most of you, I am still only obsessed with Voltron. That being said, here are my plans for Keith for this month.

General Goals:

Newly published word count: 5,071/10,000

Have total VLD published WC surpass Spider-Man: 48,364/100,258 (I'm not calling this a failed goal! I never planned to publish 50k+ in a single month, to be clear. This is a long-term goal that I'm hoping to hit in 2025.)

Test new weekly writing schedule: my choice of any three weekdays from 6pm to 9pm and any one weekend day from waking up to going to bed (with short breaks as needed). Possible exceptions on the weekend hours during any pre-planned social events because I'm too good at isolating myself already. Schedule TBD during work travel but will be much less for those times unless I can get comfy writing in-flight lmao.

Bonus uncontrollable achievement for funsies: 250k total hits on AO3 (starting the month around 244k)

Augusnippets:

All are drafted because I overachieved last month

Publish 15 total snippets

Posting out of order because all my fills take place in one series, and it was more important to me to get the series order right than the challenge order

Currently working on c*mm*ssioning art for this story!

Bingo prompts:

Finish and publish at least one more bingo prompt this month (I'm open to requests for Keith!)

One request received! (Working on outlining it and expecting to draft and publish this month)

40k in 42 Days:

Drafted word count (not necessarily published like the goal in general goals)

Start 8/4

Complete by 9/14 (On track to achieve this one!)

Probably major focus on LTS(LTFH), but I'm counting all drafted words during this time period

(My Write Club linked above! Feel free to friend if you're participating in this or if you use it at all.)

LTS(LTFH):

Cleaned these goals up a little mid-month!

Finish full outline for fic 1

Continue drafting fic 1: 35% of 100k goal

Draft what I know of fic 2: 30% of 50k goal (with focus on events surrounding Augusnippets fills until I finish final fic 1 details)

Draft fic 0 (<5k prequel to provide background on a certain event)

Continue fine outlining fics 2 through 4 as new plot points are decided in fic 1

Incorporate feedback from Augusnippets for characterization/events

Refine expected publish date at end of August (starting August expecting fic 1 to be drafted and edited for continuity errors by end of December 2024; expecting to complete technical editing chapter by chapter to start a weekly posting schedule in January 2025)

Prep for next month:

Resist the urge to take on any September writing challenges

Filter through my published list and rank works by how much they need a solid round of editing (I'm hoping to edit everything next month, but I'll be prioritizing in case I can't get through it all.)

Longer term:

I don't know where I'll be in six months, obviously. These are loose plans, subject to adjustment.

August 2024 - LTS(LTFH) focus

September 2024 - edit existing works & draft LTS(LTFH)

October 2024 - possibly Whumptober (possibly LTS(LTFH) instead)

November 2024 - NaNoWriMo (I'm now 90% sure I'll be focusing on the third chapter fic in LTS(LTFH) for this project)

December 2024 - back to editing, focusing on unpublished works

January 2025 - begin publishing fic 1 of the big series; continue drafting fic 2

[elizaviento]

Green on the Vine — Strawberry Wine (Part 7 of ?)

(Stardew Valley — Shane/Female Farmer/OC)

This chapter is rated SFW — 4298 words.

Note: Covid is kicking my ass, y'all. But these two continue to be silly idiots...

(FYI: Additional chapters of Green on the Vine — Strawberry Wine can be found in the Stardew Valley Fic Masterpost link in my blog description.  Or, you can click the #green on the vine strawberry wine tag in this post, within my blog, to access all additional chapters.)

*****

Kristen struggled with the wheelbarrow, good hand wrapped around one handle while she tried to balance the opposite side with her hip. After it toppled over for the fifth time, she kicked the rusty bucket and groaned, wondering why she'd told Shane there was nothing else to do on the farm for the remainder of the day.

You were too busy freaking him the fuck out, she thought, sinking to the ground in front of the discarded hand truck.  Did you really think his reaction would be anything other than what it was?

No. In truth, she'd expected it to go much worse. All the headway she'd made with Shane over the years was hard-won with ample amounts of patience. Approaching him with such a rash proposal out of the absolute fucking blue would never end with his immediate acquiescence. She'd been arrogant and foolish, hoping that a shift had transpired in their relationship. An inkling of such a shift had made itself known when Shane offered to be her personal farmhand without so much as batting an eye, but Kristen overstepped, misinterpreting his kindness for something else. Something more. And now, here she sat — ass in the dirt staring forlornly at a field full of overripe tomatoes, praying they wouldn't rot overnight. Praying even harder that Shane would return in the morning, all memory of her awkward proposal wiped from his brain.

"Hey! Farmer!" 

The voice was deep and not immediately familiar to Kristen as she searched for its owner. The sun was beginning to sink low, brilliant splotches of fire and gold obscuring her vision as a form bled through and drew closer.

"Alex?" she asked, finally recognizing the burly physique. He was carrying a large basket with a sack slung over one shoulder. His stereotypically handsome face greeted her with a smile, along with a six-pack carved from marble.

"Yeah." He was close enough now that he offered a hand, and she took it, soon finding herself on her feet and failing not to stare. "Sorry — was in the middle of a workout when Gran asked me to bring this stuff over," he explained with a smug expression, obviously aware that his outfit was a distraction.

"No need to apologize," Kristen said, waving him to follow her as she turned toward the farmhouse. She had the almost uncontrollable urge to compliment his routine but bit her tongue, convinced that accidentally flirting with someone like Alex would end in Haley hunting her down and scratching her eyes out like a cat in heat.

They'd made it to the front porch before Alex spoke again, slinging the bag on the rocking chair and placing the basket near the front door.

"You really are fucked up, huh?" he asked, eyeing the farmer's injured hand as she wiped sweat from her brow with her forearm.

"Oh — yeah. Guess I am."

"Need help with anything while I'm here? I'm pretty strong, you know."

Kristen suppressed a smirk as the gridball jock threaded a hand through his perfectly manicured hair, not-so-subtly flexing as he did so. Only then did she notice just how tan he was and wondered if it was from a bottle. 

"Actually," she began, allowing her eyes to rove over his form. The outfit choice made sense, given his earlier excuse, but she was certain he would have had time to change if he really wanted to. "Have you ever harvested tomatoes before?"

Kristen winced as she watched Alex rip each fruit from the stalks. She was confident half her plants wouldn't be viable to produce again, convinced she'd find them snapped in half if she went to investigate, but beggars can't be choosers. Once again, she mentally berated herself for spooking the one man she actually wanted to watch working in her fields as the last drops of golden sunlight melted below the horizon.

"Done," the jock declared, parking the full wheelbarrow at the side of the porch. Sweat glistened on his perfectly sculpted abs and bulging thighs, reminding Kristen of Teen Beat pinups her high school girlfriends would tape to the inside of their lockers.

"Thanks, Alex. I was afraid they would rot before —"

"Well, I'm not doing anything else tonight," he said, cutting her off mid-sentence. He'd obviously not been listening to a word Kristen said, instead calculating his next move. The farmer raised one brow in question, and he continued. "We should watch a movie or something. Gran packed some food, and I brought some beer."

Kristen balked, realization dawning on her like a brick to the face.

"Wha — Alex, how old are you?" she blurted, the question leaping from her throat before she could stop it. She already knew the answer but hoped that his saying it aloud would cement just how ridiculous his thinly veiled attempt actually was.

"I'm 21. Why, that too young for you?"

A barking laugh sprung from her chest, and she clapped a hand over her mouth to suppress another. No matter his intentions, she didn't want to offend someone who had just gone out of their way to help her.

"It's not about that," she clarified. Deep down, she was a bit flattered that someone his age would be interested in her. In fact, that's probably what he was banking on.

"I dunno, we're both single. You're hot. I'm hot. You gotta be bored out here, right?"

She blinked and shook her head, wondering why she wasn't outright offended. She may have been if there was any indication whatsoever that he was trying to play her for a fool. But he seemed utterly genuine.

"I —"

He cut her off again, only this time, his words were so on point that she nearly fell over while processing them.

"You got it for someone else, huh? That Shane guy? Yeah, I dunno why; he's kinda mean to everyone. That's cool, though. Wouldn't wanna step on his toes, you know." He appeared a bit dejected but quickly shook it off, giving her another show-stopping smile. "If you change your mind, lemme know. We could probably have some fun, and I wouldn't tell anyone if you don't want me to."

"Yeah, sure…" she said, still dumbstruck. Alex was known to be a flirt, and this wasn't the first time he'd done so with her, but his rock-solid confidence shook her to the core.

"And don't worry, I won't tell Shane either," he continued with a wink. "Though you should probably just make a move on him or something. He seems kinda dumb. I would've had you in bed already if you followed me around like that."

Kristen’s mouth fell agape, too flabbergasted to respond. But the voices in her head were anything but silent.

If Alex fucking Mullner can tell, everyone can. Everyone in this town knows. Everyone. EVERYONE!

"Anyway. Guess I'll take my change of clothes with me," Alex said, unphased by the farmer's lack of response. "The basket has the food and beer. Keep the beer. I think you probably need it."

Again, she slowly blinked and waved like a moron when he retrieved the sack from her rocking chair and strutted back toward town.

❦❧🍓❦❧

Kristen took her time hauling in the tomatoes from the wheelbarrow, almost one by one, washing them in her sink and placing them in cardboard boxes lined with paper towels. She'd call Pierre in the morning and ask if he'd be willing to come pick them up, knowing he would discount his travel cost from the final bill of sale, but it was better than the alternative of the entire crop going to waste. The process was slow and tedious; night had fully fallen by the time she flopped down on her living room couch to grab her phone.

9:01 PM: 1 missed call from Shane Davis

9:02 PM: 1 missed call from Shane Davis

9:03 PM: 1 missed call from Shane Davis

The farmer furrowed her brow, checking the current time. She'd missed his calls by just a few minutes but was far more concerned with the back-to-back notifications. Shane wasn't the serial calling type. 

The second he picked up the call, Kristen recognized the clamber of the Saloon, and she closed her eyes. He might have been just chatting with Emily and Gus. Maybe he'd had a beer or two. But something told her that was wishful thinking. And when he finally spoke, she was proven right.

Initially, she'd been hotly upset. Not because Shane was drunk but due to the accusations he'd so casually tossed at her, implying she'd hopped into bed with someone in the few hours since they'd last seen one another. It was absurd and equally perplexing. It never failed to amaze Kristen just how fast gossip flew through this minuscule town, and she wondered how warped the story had become when it reached Shane's intoxicated ears.

Regardless, the farmer had a game plan for these situations: Coffee, bread, and more coffee. She set a batch of the black gold to brew while pulling a fresh loaf from the basket of goodies that Evelyn had packed. It must have been divine intervention, the old woman including such an essential item for Kristen's current predicament. Then again, maybe Alex inherited his unsettling intuition from his Gran…

Kristen practically stomped her aggression out during the walk to the Saloon, the first half spent in solitude as she followed the footpath leading toward the bus stop. By the time she'd crossed the threshold into town, she'd cooled off considerably and found herself smiling and waving to those few town folks out and about. Annoyance still simmered below the surface but low enough that she could control it in the face of wandering eyes. 

"Kristen!" Emily called, frantically gesturing the farmer over as soon as she entered the Saloon. Her eyes quickly scanned the bar, shoulders sagging when she failed to locate her target.

"Hey, Em. How long ago did he leave?" the farmer asked, taking Shane's usual stool at the end of the bar next to the fireplace. An empty mug and a glass of melting ice water sat side by side in front of her.

"Not long after he hung up with you," Emily replied, whisking away Shane's leftovers. "He seemed upset. I told him to call you, hoping it would calm him down. He hasn't had a night like this in a while."

"Yeah…" Kristen confirmed, rubbing her eyes with her good hand's thumb and middle finger. Her injured hand throbbed, reminding her that she hadn't taken any painkillers since that morning. "It's probably my fault."

Emily gave the farmer a sympathetic look before fetching a fresh glass and filling it with her favorite soda.

"You can't hold yourself responsible for a grown man, Kristen. You've helped him turn things around, but it's ultimately up to him to stay on the right path," Emily said. It would have come across as a lecture from any other person, but the farmer knew that Emily held more wisdom in her pinky finger than most people did in their entire bodies. "Whatever haunts him, it's not up to you to chase it away. But —" she took Kristen's hand and held it gently, closing her eyes as if she were channeling something unseen, "— he trusts you. He obviously sees your friendship as something to be cherished. Don't take that lightly."

Kristen sighed, again taken aback by an observation so apt that a verbal response eluded her. Instead, she simply nodded and sipped her drink, gathering her thoughts.

She would have to find Shane; that much was clear, and she knew exactly where to look. What wasn't so clear was how she would address their shared bizarre behavior of the day once she sobered him up. The night was young enough that it was still possible, so she knew she had to try before Alex and Emily's revelations faded into soft obscurity in the back of her mind, tucked away and forgotten. It was easy enough to let Shane's reaction to her earlier proposal sit on her nerves and make her crazy with uncertainty, but it was another matter to honestly examine her own feelings and admit to herself why her immediate solution was to move him into her home.

Kristen attempted to pay for the soda, but Emily, of course, refused. She tucked several bills under the glass anyway and blew the blue-haired woman a playful kiss when she caught her eye exiting the Saloon. Not for the first time, the farmer counted herself lucky to have made such a friend during her time in the Valley. Someone who could speak to her plainly but still provided a perspective she wouldn't have stumbled across otherwise. It was refreshing, even among such a tight-knit community.

"Please, at least be semi-coherent by the time I find you," Kristen mumbled under her breath as she stepped out into the cobblestone walkway. She'd spent more time in the Saloon than she'd realized and groaned when she checked her phone. Shane could do a lot of damage in an hour and a half, and Kristen wagered it would be midnight by the time she found her way to the Cindersap lake dock. At this rate, she'd be lucky if he was even conscious.

He's come a lot farther than that, she chided herself. But the farmer was ultimately a realist. During their short phone call, Shane's tone didn't give her much hope that he was curbing his impulses.

Just as she'd predicted, she found him on the dock. Initially, fear gripped her heart when she saw him lying there motionless, several beer cans littered around him. How many times had she come upon a similar scene? It never got easier.

He drank the coffee and ate the bread as she presented it to him. A cup here. A hunk there. They sat in silence otherwise, the chirp of crickets and the croak of toads providing the only soundtrack. It was peaceful. Comfortable. The world shrank around them until only the pair remained, their breaths seeming to sync as Kristen sank into her thoughts and Shane slowly sobered up.

"Um —" he spoke after what felt like millennia. Kristen jumped slightly, her eyes focusing on his face in the darkness. She'd switched off her flashlight ages ago but could make out the curve of his jaw and the motion of his hand as he scrubbed it down his face. "Sorry."

She wasn't sure how to respond. Apologizing felt hollow somehow. Something massive sat between them. Dense and burdensome. And she knew they wouldn't leave this dock until they addressed it properly.

"Shane. We have to talk."

"I know," he replied with a weary sigh that exasperated her. She felt defeated before they'd even begun. Like no matter what she said, he'd simply take it and shrug it off as if it didn't phase him in the slightest, despite his earlier belligerence. 

"What exactly do you know?" she asked, challenging him. Her voice had already risen an octave, indicative of her current state of vex. She hated that her emotions had already slithered from their cage, but attempting to wrangle them back in was no use. Her injured hand throbbed as her heart rate spiked, and she suddenly found herself holding back sobs. Chest wracking, breath hitching sobs of pure frustration.

"I know I'm an asshole. I know I dragged you out here in the middle of the night — again. I know I blew everything out of proportion and then tried to drown it in beer because that's what I do. That's how I cope. I know I'll probably never change, and you're just wasting your time."

"Shut up," she said, ripping a hunk from the bread loaf and shoving it into her mouth. The act of chewing gave her precious seconds to swallow the snarky words she wanted to follow along with a heavy dose of carbs. "You actually don't  know  shit, Shane. You really, truly don't."

"What?" he asked. It seemed some of the farmer's frustration was leaking into the atmosphere of their tiny bubble, infecting the man who she was effectively holding hostage.

"I need you to sit there and just listen to me for a little bit, okay? Because what I'm about to say is something I've been shoving down and trying to ignore. I'm good at pretending things don't exist, but it always catches up to me, and then I end up here — frustrated and upset because I'm too chicken shit to admit what's really going on."

"Kriss, you don't have to do this."

His tone had shifted, and he suddenly sounded… scared? Apprehensive? She wasn't sure. And for a moment, she hesitated. Did she really want to lay all her baggage at his feet just as he crawled from the swamps of inebriation? She could very well be shoving another case of beer down his throat.

"Shane."

She reached for him in the darkness, fingers slipping through his palm before settling in the groves of his own. His wrist was limp for longer than she hoped, and she considered pulling away. But then he curled his fingers around hers, properly holding her hand for the very first time. She suddenly felt like an inexperienced teenager and was thankful for the darkness, acting as an invisible buffer between her swelling emotions and the unsuspecting man they were directed toward. After another stretch of silence, Shane shifted slightly, positioning their hands more naturally, settling them atop one of his thighs. Nothing he could have said aloud would have been a more precise indication that he was prepared to accept what was next, so Kristen sucked in a deep breath and continued.

"This thing between us… it isn't just friendship. You know that, right?"

She paused, not expecting an actual response but giving herself space to accept what she'd said alongside him. In her peripheral vision, he nodded before tilting his face toward the sky. She did the same, mapping the glittering dots above them with her eyes, connecting one by one like plot points in the story of her life. Each line had led her directly to this moment with this man. Sitting on a lake dock in the middle of the night, fingers intertwined, so many things unspoken.

"I told you about my divorce," she said, still struggling with assigning words to her feelings as they swelled and threatened to consume her.

"Yeah," Shane answered. His fingers flexed in her grip as he shifted again uncomfortably. "But you don't have to talk about that."

"No, I do," she protested, even as words caught in her throat, thick and sticky. "Because it matters. I left everything behind to escape a life I ruined. I came here thinking I could hide away on my grandpa's farm forever. I'd given up. But then I saw you and thought I could… I don't know. I thought maybe I didn't have to be alone."

Kristen paused again, a shaky exhale slipping past her lips. She'd spent far too long denying how she felt and could only imagine how blindsided Shane must have been earlier in the day and now. And how unfair it was for her to assign him to such a position in her life, despite his initial protests. It was like she'd literally forced herself upon him, pushed and pushed until she wore him down, and he had no choice but to accept the new farmer as a reluctant companion. The words 'Stockholm syndrome' floated up to the surface of her mind like a dead fish, and she almost laughed aloud. It actually resembled the pyramid inside a magic 8 ball, displaying the answer to her question of why Shane would continue to put up with her obvious emotional manipulation.

"We didn't just split up," she spoke again, her thoughts finally flowing freely. "He cheated on me. I was so consumed with my career that all I wanted was to get ahead, and I ignored him. For years. By the time I was ready to leave Joja, it was too late. He'd moved on."

Shane shifted again, only now he turned to face her. She still couldn't distinguish his features in the dark, but his aura was cautious as he untangled their fingers. For a dreadful second, she thought he was about to get up and leave, simply walk away and leave her alone with her selfish confessions. But he wrapped his free arm around her waist instead, gingerly settling his palm on her hip. She stiffened momentarily out of pure shock, recalling every instance he refused to hug her back and how he would put distance between them when she got too comfortable in his presence. Something had finally changed between them, and she felt her heart flutter as she placed her hand on his thigh and scooted closer to his side.

"Why are you blaming yourself for that?" he asked. His voice was imploring, displaying interest past the haze of alcohol, and Kristen figured he'd crested the surface of sobriety. 

"I don't know. Societal pressures? I was expected to be the perfect wife with the perfect career. When he told me he wanted kids, I kept putting it off because I was so close to clawing my way up the ladder. I told him we'd be set once I became Senior Corporate Counsel. But that all fell apart, and by the time I'd licked my wounds and crawled back to him, he'd gotten someone else pregnant and served me with divorce papers."

"Jesus, Kriss…" Shane breathed, unconsciously tightening his grip on her waist. Kristen followed his lead and scooted closer to his side, resting her head on his shoulder. Despite the balmy night air, a chill hugged her bare arms, and she suppressed a shiver. "So you came here after?"

"Yep," she replied with a bitter laugh. "Imagine going to law school only to end up a farmer."

"What happened at Joja?" he asked. Again, his tone was cautious, and she couldn't blame him. She'd dodged this question before, not ready to rehash the shame. After a while, he'd dropped the subject entirely, but it was only natural he'd still be curious.

"Can I promise to tell you about that later? For real this time."

He nodded, and she released a breath, glad she didn't have to spill the whole of her sorted history in one sitting. But, as it was, she needed to finally get to the point before she tied his brain into a pretzel.

"So, what now?" he hedged, reading her thoughts. Kristen froze, realizing it was truly now or never. What did she really have to lose? Besides her best friend…

"I still want you to move in with me, but…" She cleared her throat, stalling for time. Shane remained quiet at her side, giving her that reprieve. She buried her face in his shoulder as she flushed, apprehension manifesting as beads of cold sweat rolling down her spine.

Just do it. Say it. Tell him now.

"I'm sorry I've been so confusing and frustrating to deal with. I'm sorry if it felt like I was stringing you along. I'm sorry I sprang this on you out of the blue. For me, it's not such a rash request." 

She paused again, holding her breath to gauge the steady quality of his own, deep and even. She hadn't a clue what he must be thinking as she rambled like a lunatic, but she was beginning to lose her nerve. 

"I'm crazy about you, Shane. And I've spent the last 2 years trying to pretend I'm not because I don't want to get hurt again. I've been too scared to make a move like a normal human being because I'm fucked up. So instead, I ask you to upheave your entire life to come live on my farm like it's the logical next step in any normal friendship."

"Kristen. Wait…”

During her tirade, he'd shimmied from their awkward embrace and turned to face her fully, placing both hands on her shoulders. The utterance of her full name took her aback, and she clamped her mouth shut, terrified that this was finally it. He was going to tell her he didn't feel the same. He wanted to stay friends. Or worse — he wanted to go their separate ways.

"What?" she croaked. Tears welled in her eyes. She swiped them away quickly, cursing her urge to blink. Humiliation rolled over her like a truck, and she wanted to flip herself into the lake and sink like a stone until she settled on the bottom for eternity.

"Will you, uh — I mean, let's go to the ranch. Marnie's not coming home tonight, and Jas is at Vincent's."

"Why?" she asked, wiggling from his grasp and wrapping her arms around her shoulders. Adrenaline rushed through her veins, dulling the throbbing of her injured hand, causing her to tremble. 

He's blowing you off. He wants to distract you so you'll stop making a fool of yourself. 

"I just — please?"

He rose to his feet, snatching her backpack from the dock and retrieving the flashlight from a side pocket. The LED beam exploded from the tiny device, and Kristen squinted her eyes, shielding them with her bandaged hand while the other pushed herself up to join him.

Crickets and toads filled the silence again with their nightly crooning as the pair walked, twigs snapping under their feet. The occasional scuttle in surrounding bushes reminded them of the life that thrived in the woods, tiny creatures unconcerned with the complicated emotions of humans and the silly way they sabotaged joy for the sake of convenience.

Kristen wished to be like them someday. Happy and free. 

[simmonsized]

hi! i love your work, especially the run and go (probably due for another reread). i was wondering if you outline your fics? or is more seeing where your inspiration takes you? sorry if you've answered this before! i tried to do a quick check and tumblr's tag search was... as functional as ever.

Hi thank you so much!!! I'm so glad you love it! c: I love hearing it!

Also I don't mind answering at all, and I don't know if I've answered it before because it's probably been a hot minute, even if I have!

For the most part, when I first have an idea, I don't really outline it. I tend to start writing in the middle, with whatever idea first grabbed my attention, and write out however much of that scene that I can of that in the moment, because I like to write for fun (when I have the free time, of course!) and until the past six years, I was scared to even post my works online!

Sometimes it becomes a conglomeration of many scenes, with gaps between them, and sometimes these little scenes may coalesce into a proper fic idea, especially if I can think of a way for it to end!

For existing fics, I usually only outline if I feel stuck, and even then it is usually a few little sentences.

Though for my big boy RNG, I have a checklist of things that Have To Happen before the fic can end!!!™, so that helps a lot haha

So to sum up, I usually just go where the inspiration takes me, which is how you get chapters I wrote years before others despite coming later! I really admire people who can outline their fics, because it is a skill I simply do not possess!

[sixtysixproblems]

obligatory newbie post + my ficlist but at least im not from twitter

What's up tumbleweeds i will no longer be a meance exclusive to ao3! This'll probably be a 90% star wars blog because unfortunately I can't choose my special interests aparently, and my brain picked the fandom where everyone dies to be my main thing. sigh.

Ao3 = Kalidescope_View. (i know kaleidoscope is terribly misspelled, shhhhh)

Names + Pronouns - He/Him, minor, could not care less what you call me. Sixes? Kaleidoscope? Kalidescope? That fucking guy over there? Whatever works.

My fic list (all clone wars for now)

"fluorescent mistakes" - an ongoing chat-fic that spiraled out of control and became my main project

Cody: Look, it's the vod who's so basic he's off the PH scale Wolffe: cody you nerd what the fuck does that even mean ~-~-~-~ Cody creates a chatroom for his batch. He really, really shouldn't have. Featuring: some blyla + codywan + vox, a lot of sibling love, even more sibling chaos, and *checks notes* ...plot???

"mistakesverse" series - all of them are canon in fluorescent mistakes, but all function as standalones for now/not needed to read fluorescent.

>"fairness" - ponds & rex h/c oneshot, kamino era but not too heavy angst wise >"get it on flimsi" - coruscant guard chatfic oneshot >"godzillo v crypto bros" - the zillo beast arc but make it a crack chat fic

"i accidentally made a modern au" series - a bunch of stand-alone oneshots set in the same highschool au universe.

>"pastel" - the fetts have an easter egg hunt in the background while wolffe is being a little shit and trying to set up codywan >"i want you (for worse or for better)" - Vox miscomunication except it's only the part where it gets resolved + outside your door in the pouring rain trope, ft peanut butter m&ms >"petals" - codywan flower gifting, the teasing that comes with siblings, wolffe is a little shit again >"(SEVERE THUNDERSTORM WATCH" - a chatfic where cody nearly gets caught in a thunderstorm, set during fett family vacay + ft eggo poptarts

"id kiss you as the lights went out" - Ongoing Vox 5+1 hurtcomfort, but it's more like a 5+2

“Vos,” Fox says, forcing his grip to relax so he doesn’t wrinkle the flimsiwork he’s working on, “Are you aware you’re dripping blood on my carpet?” “Uh,” Vos looks down at the few drops of crimson now staining the ugly beige-colored floor, and quickly puts a hand over his side, “...I’d say sorry, but I mean, you must have gotten wine on it at some point, so it'll just...Blend in?”

"warmth" - self-indulgent vox hurt/comfort with a bad title.

Quinlan Vos had been hovering around Fox like a particularly annoying fly for the past two months now, for no particular reason. Well, none Fox could discern at least. Oh, not that Vos wasn’t telling him why. Vos had plenty of "reasons", he’d explain them with a smirk that Fox supposed he’d find charming-- if he had never put up with the Jedi’s shenanigans. And if he didn’t know that Vos and his excuses were full of shit.

"stitched" - no plot only vibes drunk sibling nonse (fox, cody, wolffe)

"Force, you are old," Wolffe drawled, and Fox tried to project his glare as best he could through his helmet. Cody snorted from somewhere behind them, but Fox was too drunk to tell where-- which sent off a prickle of anxiety.. "I see you do not want a present from me for life day," He grumbled, trying to banish his stress. He’d have none of his usual paranoia tonight. Wolffe put his hands up in mock surrender. "Fine. It's impressive. I wouldn't have the patience" Wolffe amended, and picked up Fox's knitting to study it with, annoyingly, what looked like at least some genuine interest.

have a nice day folks!

[goneahead]

TEN RANDOM LINES

tagged by @radiowrites thank you❤️!

Rules: Pick any ten of your fics, scroll to the midpoint, pick a line (or three) and share it. Then tag ten people. tagging @cowandcalf @stephmcx @trickster-archangel @five-wow @bgharison @simplyn2deep @bcmaxwell @teruel-a-witch @merlin-wolfgang-trades-hale @ellena-asg

Hawaii Five-0 Fandom

(I noticed a lot of my lines were Danny being… Danny🤣🤣🤣)

1. Lead Me Through the Fire - Arson Investigation AU

“That’s it? That’s your plan?” Danny hissed. “That’s not a plan! That’s actually the exact opposite of a—”

2. The Care and Feeding of a SuperSEAL - Post 10x22, Steve breaks his hands and wrists

Danny kept talking. His hand shifted again, rubbing Steve’s back. “At least, the current working theory is you’re human, although me? I’m still holding out for equus asinus.”

3. The Long Road Home - Steve is disabled, but still heads up the taskforce

"No, I'm not OK!" Danny realized he was yelling, lowered his voice. "Ochoa's goons bashed my head into the concrete."

4. Beam Me Up, Danno! - Star Trek AU

“I told you I was sick.” It was not a whine. Danny was a First Officer, and First Officers did not whine, even if they were sick and stuck in a damp, squelchy, humid swamp. And now his nose was running. Again.

5. Trusses of My Heart - Steve and Danny meet in a rehab hospital (Steve and Danny are disabled)

Steve dropped his hand over Danny's, leaned over and Danny met him halfway. Steve smelled like sun and surf, and there was sea salt on his lips.

6. Five Times Steve was An Idiot, But Danny Kissed Him - Five Drabbles

Steve—six-feet and some odd change of steel-abbed SuperSEAL—shuffles his feet like Charlie does when he's being scolded. "I'm sorry and I’m an idiot.”

7. Manhunt - Scifi AU, Steve is a SpaceSEAL, Danny and his daughter live on Jer-C II

Danny gave up and rescued the guy. "Stop, just please, stop. If that is your idea of an apology, it's pathetic. But I'll bite, what's in the case?"

Adams Family and SHIELD Fandoms

8. 0-Ate-Four - Adams Family x SHIELD crossover

A young girl, no more than twelve or thirteen, stared back at her. The girl's hair was pulled tightly into two long braids, and her black dress was long and old-fashioned, with a stiff white lace collar.

Winchesters Fandom

8. Like Flashes of Lightening - Mary and John are hunters/Supernatural never happened AU

Mary felt the rough grit of his gun calluses and breathed into his touch.

Hawkeye /SHIELD Fandom

9. Decorating Is Not A Spectator Sport - Clint Barton’s path to SHIELD started with renovating a cabin—

Or...

He could stop flipping through catalogs, and drive over to the IKEA store in Colorado, look at bookcases.

And kitchens cabinets.

Leverage Fandom

10. There are Wolves - Magical Reality AU

“OK, so let me get this straight, a bunch of --" Hardison glanced around, but the bar was nearly empty and the only waitress was outside, smoking. "A bunch of vampires have a cylinder that can raise the dead. and now they've gone and stolen a sarcophagus with some dead dude--"

[brilliantfantasticgeronimo]

jamie+zoe "i missed him every day of my life" gay

so far both tegan and zoe had their moment of "who i became after my travels shaped who i was / i tried to what the doctor would od". really feels like it's continuing the theme started in s1 of newwho and that has been developed every season since (+ in spin offs)

not much else to say cause i never connected to the second era emotionally tbh sdlkfj

six+peri

SIX AND PERI FINALLY GETTING THE CLOTHING THEY DESERVE

bro nicola is so good wtf. give this woman an spin-off

"your story is far from over"? OH "for both of us" this is so tru metatextually. no doctor's story is ever over. six and peri are still having new adventures every year in eu and fic. and they'll contineu to have them forever. these character's story really aren't ever over. (oh how i wish newbie fans understood this when they start to get too dramatic over regeneration)

"some i would rather forget" yeah… very metatextual for six lol

man i really need to listen to their big finish. they've dev'd their performance so much.

cant wait to see what idiot's lantern sketch troupe does with this lol

clyde + jo

clyde and jo is such a deep cut…. god honestly how can fans have the time to get all frisky about the "series 1" naming thing when THIS is literally happening at the same time. when the whoniverse announcement is happening at the same time. when FINALLY you don't have to scourage long-hidden dailymotion account to watch the classic stories with 144p quality. this fandom really misses the forest for the trees (misses the STORY for silly branding stuff)

they are so chaotic i love them

i love that this continues the SJA thoughtline of sarah jane really managing to build her own legacy, her own world, her own family after the doctor. it's so heartwarming.

"by the way, i heard, and im sorry" "thank you" THIS IS SUCH A DEEP CUT

"good… she's good…" rani/clyde shippers everywhere DISTRAUGHT

(sooo these companions that went on to "fight climate change" (jo grant, tegan, rani, ryan)… do we think they went to X.R.? Earth First? J.S.O?…formed an ecosocialist party? lol "fighting for the environment" can mean a lot of things) -RANI/CLYDE SHIPPERS EVERYWHERE R E J O I C

(cries again)

steven + viki

ngl i do love that between all the over-archiving "where are they now"s you have vicki like "i planted olives". icon.

"i got my little sister back" doNt ta Lk T oM E

"can you imagine the doctor wearing something like this?"

hm have to agree with others saying this could have focused more on steven. when i think of "unresolved angst" in doctor who steven is defo up there at the top lol

im also not sure im too into the idea of him becoming a king post-show. then again, havent kept up with his eu so idk it might be a thing. i thought it was more of a diplomatic position?

idk idk. the vicki stuff WAS good but i think this is the only one in this series that's a bit weaker for me ( im super glad it exists tho)

ace + seven

ace's rainbow pin…………………………………………

"last time i saw you, you were a hologram" continuity !!!!!! cry me a river anti-chibnalls lolol

man i really need to read their books!! 7 era really is something else with all the like… poetic, cosmic-philosophy dialogue style.

"i needed someone to blame" damn…good line. says a lot about how seven is to blame for A Lot but Ace had to learn to separate things and not make it All about him. Really good character stuff.

ngl some of this dialogue could really work with thasmin SKLDJ like, make it less paternal and more romantic of course... but the template is there… i really love how ace and yaz have come to be kind of mirrored / connected in the eu tbh (and likewise how 13 and 7 have come to be foils. but more comparative foils than how previously 7 and 5 were antagonistic foils) (i hope this is all ground that is explored some day in the eu. would love to see something like Cold Fusion but with 7/13)

"it was london ONTARIO"

"it was your destiny you set in motion" obsessed with this dialogue

"the best it yet to come" sTop maKing me CRy

"we made a great time" "we were wicked" TOT

...i guess for me this is one will have to be pete mctighe's redemption for kerblam lol

me dropping all my rl obligations to scream about the blorbos for two hours

[kockmin]

Jikook Fic Recs!

Hi everyone! I’ve been reading a lot of jikook fanfiction recently so I thought “why not make a fic rec for my followers?” (even though you’ve probably already read these fics) so here you go guys and thank you for 2.5k+ followers :)))

Fic recs part 2!

In no particular order:

Sugar, we’re going down swinging by aborescent (One shot)

“Modernsherlock!au - The first time Jeon Jungkook meets Park Jimin, the other boy is dissecting what looks like a penis.”

I absolutely loved this fic. It has some suggestive themes (as you can tell by the summary), but its not really nsfw. I really like how the writer portrayed Jimin (cute, smol cinnamon roll) and his way of thinking and solving cases, as well as the jikook dynamic (just kiSS ALREADY). It’s a really interesting and sweet fic that also inspired me to draw some sketches about it. I am currently obsessed with this oneshot!

You're My Genie, Lamborghini (You're My Teeny Weeny Meenie) by mindheist (One shot) (M)

“You know those people who say technology is driving people apart? Yeah, fuck them.”

Really good fic where Jimin’s thirst for Jungkook is super real (Also, thanks Taehyung!). Jungkook and Jimin are both youtuber and fate (more like an injury) brings em together! There is smut in this fic so keep that in mind. I loved the twitter and snapchat edits that this oneshot has, I thought it was really creative and a different take on au jikook!

More golden than the golden snitch by aborescent (One shot)

“Everyone knows that the first year Slytherin seeker Jeon Jungkook's biggest fan is not from his own house but a third year Hufflepuff named Park Jimin.”

I’ve realised I’m a sucker for cute Jimin and this Harry Potter!au is so adorable and I just- ahhhh words can’t explain how much I like this fic. This fic has so many cute moments between them is great and Jungkook is very popular, but also very sweet towards Jimin. This is my daily dose of cuteness tbh.

More fics under the cut!

Listen to my heartbeat (it’s calling you at its own will) by poplolli (Completed) (M)

“Park Jimin has fluffy sweaters, green glasses, chubby cheeks and a smile what could make flowers grow. Jeon Jeongguk has Reputation (with capital R), a motorcycle, way more black leather jackets than necessary and a Secret (with capital S). And may or may not, Jeon Jeongguk has a teeny tiny Crush, too. (It's really tiny though, the capital C must be a mistake, okay.) AKA the high school!AU where Jeongguk secretly likes cute things and Jimin has sweater paws.”

Jungkook, Jimin and cats; need I say more? Nah, but seriously, this 8 chapter fic shows badboy!jungkook being the most adorable cutie pie and Jimin (already an established cinnamon roll) meeting during detention and well, lots of stuff happens from there haha. The summary should be enough to attract you and I think jungkook’s thoughts and actions are sometimes funny and kinda cute (there’s also a bit of jealous!jungkook). Oh, btw this fanfic also has smut in it (yay!).

Dream Maker by Graesun and Polkari Seuta (VeritasEtVita) (Completed) (M)

“Oh, dream maker, you heartbreaker / wherever you're going, I'm going your way. 

Several days in the lives of Jimin and Jungkook living off instant ramen and lots of kisses.”

Where Jimin and jungkook barely have enough money to pay the rent, but still try to be happy. We get to see all the different things they go through in all 12 chapters and seeing their reactions to them is so interesting and feels... very human?, I feel it’s really important to show the readers not only the good and fun side of jikook living together, but also the hardships they have faced, that they get stressed and frustrated when things don’t go like they'd like them to and that’s what this fic does. It’s incredibly sweet seeing their bond remain so strong after everything occurred and they always think about the other one first. Heartbreaking at times and a really good fic! *whispers* there’s also smut :).

Okay this fic rec was only going to be 5 fics for the sake of this post not being super super long, but I just could not not put a really angsty rec here so here you go!

Wonder by wordcouture (Completed)

"You see, one loves the sunset when one is so sad." -- Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

I don’t actually remember what exactly happened in the book “The Little Prince,” but all I know is that this fic ripped my heart into tiny little pieces with its two chapters and its just so sad that jikook are in this apocalyptic world and they can’t be happy and I can’t write anything more without using spoilers so check it out if you’re into angst ;-;

Aaaaand there you go guys! Thank you again for 2.5k+ followers and if you want me to make some other fic recs (there’s a lot of fics I love)  message me on/off anon! I tried to keep these as spoiler free as I could, but I‘m sorry if they’re still too spoiler-y I tried ;-;. All of this fics are great and you should definitely check them out if you haven’t already!