#that fandom did NOT age w me all i’ll say. though i welcome any new impressionable children to watch it

[sieglinde-freud]

I would be SAT for your total drama power point (and my godddddd the fucking essay in my head about what the hell was going on with Sierra & Cody)

dude give me a season and a topic and ive got it. maybe not pahkitew island though that one is so bad ive really only watched it once when it came out and maybe like. two episodes since then. but the other ones (all stars was also bad but. alejandro carried for a while until they nerfed him sooo bad ugh) i could do. sierra and cody were INSANE like i get that was the humor at the time (for. some people. lets remember this show was also victim to “writers’ poorly disguised fetish”) but like. swap the genders and the police sirens going off immediately weewooweewooweewoo like i know cody wasnt great to gwen but i think giving him sierra as karma is a BIT much. and not funny bc girl fym u inhaled his shoelace and it came back out your mouth EW. their friendship at the end was nice but undeserved and then she never gave up stalking him (i think? bc in all stars she was still crazy (she also should not have been in all stars but WHATEVER)) so. not even a good resolution. goddamn. “the christians” is still one of the funniest jokes on the show though so she did at least one thing good

[fandom-necromancer]

A little distraction Part 3

This was prompted by @rufina72 as well as two anons and at least one AO3 user. I have to admit I lost track on AO3 because apparently people really enjoy this story line XD Hope you do to!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900, Hannor/Hancon Part 1 link not available   [Part2]   [Part4]   [Part5]   [Read complete on AO3]

‘S-s-so Connor is your brooother?’ They were driving through Detroit’s streets covered by snow slush and salt. It would be a pain to get the hardened dirt from the road off his car later, Richard thought as quiet Christmas music accompanied their drive. ‘Yes. Older by roughly five years’, he answered. ‘We’re very close.’ ‘And he w-w-will be the only one there?’ Again, Richard nodded. ‘Yeah, him and his boyfriend. Guess I have to update that to husband soon, they plan to marry as soon as legislation has caught up with recognising androids as persons in every aspect.’ ‘No other f-f-family?’ Richard frowned, face falling instinctively, before he forced himself to cheer up.

‘Nah. Our father died in a car accident. I was three years old; I don’t remember much of him but photos. Connor knew him more and always said he was a nice guy. Our mother was always at work, too absorbed in her studies. It changed a bit when father died, but still she wasn’t home much. Connor basically was the one raising me, and he blames mom for not being there for me.’ ‘And y-y-you?’ ‘Nah’, he laughed. ‘It was normal for me; I didn’t know anything else. But we both agree that me and him, we are family and she doesn’t belong in that definition. And that we’ll do it better should we ever get kids.’ Gavin nodded slowly. ‘How’s he?’ ‘Caring?’, Richard began, having to think of the right words to express what he felt when thinking of his brother. ‘Overly protective. Overly friendly. It can be annoying at times. But he is honest too and understands boundaries. He never said anything when I had my silent phases, just came to my room and did whatever he did close to me keeping me company. He seems to always know what you need right now and I think that’s his most treasurable attribute.’ ‘Hooope he knows that with meee too, not just you. Wh-wh-what I told you, I won’t tell anyooone else.’

Nines risked a look to the side to Gavin, who had ducked his head in between his shoulders and fidgeted with a button on his shirt. ‘Hey.’ He stopped at a red light and was about to touch the android comfortingly, refraining from it last second as he remembered his reaction to that. ‘Hey, if it gets too much at any point, tell me. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.’ Gavin quickly looked out of the window and nodded, obviously embarrassed.

-

They arrived at a small house draped in tasteful Christmas decoration. Not too much and in exactly the right colours to make it feel cosy, warm and welcoming. Gavin stepped out of the car watching the lights and trying not to think of how he had lifted up the kids so they could help putting them up in their old home. They were fond memories made all the more sour by his loss. He knew his LED was likely red again, alerting the strange human that had picked him up of his  composure slipping, but if Richard noticed, he didn’t say anything, just walking ahead and smiling back at him as an invitation to follow him. Gavin swallowed and hastily walked through the snow to the freed path leading to the door. Nines was already standing there, hand hovering over the doorbell.

‘Richard!’ The door was almost ripped open by someone who looked exactly like the other human, maybe an inch smaller and a lot more expressive. ‘You came!’ ‘I promised, didn’t I?’ Connor hugged the other human and grinned from one ear to the other. ‘Yes of course, but still!’ Only then did he turn to Gavin, who was awkwardly standing half behind Richard and watched them. It was hard to blink away the warning popping up over and over again. Connor moving towards Richard. Threat. Warning. Richard returning his hug, the arm passing through Gavin’s personal space at that. Warning. Threat. Connor turning around. Threat. Run. Gavin didn’t know since when he was stuck in this analysis mode, but he was sick of flinching and glitching at any movement. ‘This must be your plus one?’, he asked Richard with a wink and held out a hand towards Gavin. ‘Hello, I’m Connor.’ Gavin couldn’t suppress taking a step back. ‘I-I-I’m Gaaavin’, he said, cursing his voice box for glitching now out of all times. Connor let his hand fall, but smiled at him, completely ignoring his stutter and hangers. ‘Hello Gavin, nice to meet you! Merry Christmas! Come in, you two! Hank’s getting out the food already!’

They followed Connor in and got rid of their shoes, before entering the living room. Connor instructed them to sit down and hurried into the kitchen to help Hank. When the larger android came to greet them, Gavin dared to relax a bit. He was deviant too, sending a friendly greeting ping to him. He looked gentle, trusting and didn’t have any marks on him. Hank put down plates for Connor and Richard, while Connor came back with two mugs of warmed Thirium for the androids as well as blue tinged cookies. ‘Can you eat?’, Hank asked him then. ‘You are an older model, right?’ Gavin nodded. ‘I am. B-b-but I caaan eat. I g-g-got the upgrade when Kathy- I got the upgrade.’ Hank lifted a brow at the errors and swallowed sentence, but otherwise didn’t mention it. ‘Then I hope they taste, Connor made them. He has no talent.’ ‘Excuse me?’, the human answered, elbowing Hank. Gavin expected damage, but it was a friendly gesture. ‘I can cook great.’ ‘Yeah’, Hank countered. ‘If you count heating up frozen pizza.’ ‘Hey, that’s all I can do, too, so I’ll side with Connor here’, Richard laughed. ‘What’s your verdict, Gavin?’

He looked into the other’s faces, still overwhelmed by it all. Instead of answering, he took one of the cookies and nibbled on the edge. He hadn’t really eaten much since he had gotten the upgrade and his tank didn’t allow for more than one meal anyways. It tasted… sweet. The texture was interestingly grainy and gave in to force easily. Not able to stand being stared at any longer, he just shrugged and said: ‘It tastes good?’ ‘See!’, Connor grinned. ‘Gavin likes it. I can’t be that bad then!’ ‘Or your recipe was good.’ ‘Or he did something wrong and accidentally saved otherwise horrible cookies.’ Connor crossed his arms. ‘Oh, shut up, Nines, try baking something you can’t even try because it’s literal poison for you!’ Richard laughed, and it eased the mood into simpler waters.

They continued talking for a while exchanging about what they had been up to lately. Gavin listened, but was content not to be involved at all, eating the cookies Connor had prepared. He actually liked them a lot and it was quite relaxing to just munch away on them. ‘And? How did you two get to know each other?’ He froze, sharing a look with Richard. ‘Errr…’ ‘Do you know that red light at the corner of that mattress store?’ Connor frowned, then nodded. ‘Yeah, you have to wait ages until you can drive on.’ ‘Somehow timing was perfect, and we saw each other every day when my shift ended.’ He looked over to Gavin and he nodded, thanking him inwardly to not tell them his whole life story. ‘Today I decided to talk to him.’ Connor looked over to Gavin disbelievingly. ‘My brother spoke to you first?’ Gavin huffed. ‘Y-Yes, he did. I-I-I lost my family because of the revolution. Had nowhere to go. He invited me to come with him.’ ‘So you really aren’t more than strangers’, Hank asked. ‘Kind of?’, Gavin shrugged. ‘But Richard seeeems like a nice g-g-guy and I don’t have m-m-much to lose.’ Connor swallowed. ‘I’m sorry to hear that’, he said. ‘You are welcome here any day if you need a place to stay.’ The android ducked his head, blushing. ‘Richard offered that already and I agreed to try it out.’ That shifted their attention towards the man completely.

‘Nines, are you ill? Initiating conversation, bringing someone for dinner and inviting them into your home?’ ‘Fuck off, Connor, seriously. Call it a Christmas miracle.’ Connor shook his head. ‘Would be one hell of one.’ Richard threw him a look and laughed. ‘Connor, just because it’s rare it doesn’t mean it never happens.’ ‘It was awkwaaard as hell too’, Gavin added carefully. ‘Have to admit I thought he was some sort of weirdo first.’ Connor smiled as Nines rested his hand on his arm. ‘Okay, that sounds more like my brother.’

‘Really? A weirdo?’, Richard asked Gavin. ‘I thought aaaaafter our last talk you appreciated h-h-honesty.’ ‘Yeah, okay, but you don’t just tell someone they are a weirdo.’ ‘It’s the truth.’ Richard sighed. ‘I don’t think you are oooone now th-th-th-though’, he added. ‘Thanks, at least there’s that then…’ Richard looked up at Connor. ‘What?’

The other human was grinning at them both and tried to hide it badly. ‘I’m happy, Nines. Really. I’m glad you both are here today. Come on, let’s watch a movie and then presents!’

-

The longer they spent at Connor’s house, the more at ease Gavin felt. No one asked him about his past or why he was malfunctioning all over. It surely was a question that burned in their minds, he could feel it, but they consciously didn’t question him. He was just being accepted as a part of their Christmas celebration as if he hadn’t just been picked up from some scrapyard and put into nice clothing. It felt like he… Like he had been here last year and the year before. Almost like… like he belonged. Like a family. He just had to reach out a hand and take the chance Richard had offered him and all of this would turn from pretend to reality. It was weird thinking about it, especially when every connection to the word family brought up memories of loss and grief about old happiness.

But was it wrong to want this again? To wish for another chance at building new memories? He looked at Richard from the corner of his eyes. The man was completely fixed on the TV in front of them, body relaxed and close to him but far away enough not to impose or cause stress. Gavin swallowed and looked over to Connor and Hank on the other couch under a blanket lying close, Hank holding the human and caressing his hair. He could have this again. This casual comfort, these caring touches, this feeling of safety and belonging. The home he had lost and tried to build for himself in that scrapyard could be his again, if he just allowed to let it happen.

He swallowed and pressed his eyes close to block out the warnings of threat, warning, run, danger. Then he scooted over slowly until he hit Richards warm ribcage. He felt the other shift around his frozen body, then an arm was draped around his shoulders carefully. ‘This too much?’, Nines whispered near inaudibly over the movie running and Gavin shook his head. No, he wanted this, he just had to get over his own barriers. A few minutes later, he tried opening his eyes again and was surprised his systems weren’t bombarding him with errors. Instead, his status box read safe and Richard’s body was marked as friend/ally. Gavin sighed deeply, dropping into the carefree touch completely.

When Richard dared to look down the next time, the android in his arm was smiling just the slightest and his LED was circling somewhere between blue and yellow – the calmest he had seen Gavin so far. By the end of the movie, Gavin wasn’t moving anymore, the LED pulsing slowly. Nines looked over at Hank questioningly and the android nodded. ‘He’s in stasis now.’ ‘Wow’ Richard said with raised brows, looking down on the sleeping android. Connor sat up and threw them their blanket. ‘You can stay the night if you want. Guess I have to call you Tens now’, he joked. Nines huffed and answered deadpan: ‘Do that and I’ll stop talking to you to go back to Nines.’

[>next part]

[coldshrugs]

boats and birds

Fandom: The Arcana Pairing: Cleo/Julian Length: right under 1.7k words Summary?: Cleo and Julian get separated while traveling through the tumultuous realms of The Arcana, and Cleo finds a child that could use a little help.

Cleo's eyes blink open to a thick canopy of tropical-looking leaves, shimmering pink-gold light winking through here and there. The air is thick with magic, but there's no real hostility here.

"We did it," she smiles in relief, nerves leaving in a quiet rush of laughter as she sits up. "We made it to the Magician's realm! Julian?"

They were falling through the void together when she pulled them to the safety of this realm. She didn't even realize they'd been separated. Did Julian make it here at all? Oh god, if he's lost out there in this place he doesn't understand -

Cleo's panic is interrupted by the sound of rustling leaves, a high-pitched yelp, and the muffled sound of crying. Scrambling to her feet, she chases the fading whimpers through the dense forest.

It sounded so close before but now, jumping over roots and ducking branches, she's not sure she went the right way. Starting to feel just foolish enough to turn back, Cleo stumbles into a clearing cut through by a softly gurgling brook. There, on the bank, sits the figure of what is clearly a child with a tangle of auburn hair, collecting water in their small hands and sniffling through shaky breaths.

"Oh! Hello there." Cleo approaches with slow, sure steps. "Are you alright? I heard a shout and-" The child turns to look at her, lip quivering and eyes rimmed in red- "Julian?"

There's no mistaking that face. The features are a little too big for him at this age, but his gray eyes search over her with a familiar curiosity and she knows it's him. He doesn't look like he wants to run. For a second Cleo wonders how he managed to get changed into this version of himself but before she can ask, he opens his mouth to speak.

"W-who?" The word seems to take a lot out of him and a fresh set of tears streak his face. With his body turned this way, Cleo can see the nasty scrape on his knobby little knee.

She steps to his side, smiling as warmly as she can. If not Julian then... "Ilya. is that your name?" He nods and Cleo continues. "I'm Cleo. Why don't I help you with that knee while you tell me what you're doing out here."

Without the slightest hint of reluctance, he nods and gingerly extends his leg for her examination. It doesn't look too deep, just dirty from the forest floor; Julian's pain tolerance is clearly not an inherent trait. Still, blood beads up in various spots and it needs to be cleaned and bandaged. Cleo tears off a scrap of her already disheveled dress and dips it into the stream.

"Mama and Papa gave me a pirate ship for my birthday! It has bright red sails and two masts and even a little golden door to the captain's quarters! but..." his rush of cheer fades just as quickly as it began. "But I lost it. just like I lost Pasha last summer. I tried to chase it down the stream-" Ilya winces when Cleo presses the cool, damp cloth to his knee "-but it was too fast, and I tripped."

Cleo hums a little chuckle, mostly to herself, at the absurdity of this entire situation but it's so adorable, she can't help enjoying herself a bit. She rips another piece of her dress, a cleaner one, and snuggly ties it around his wound. "I'm sure Pasha isn't upset about getting lost. She's a tough little thing, right?"

He nods again, giving her a reserved, gap-toothed grin. "You're right."

"I'll bet we can find that magnificent pirate vessel of yours, Captain Ilya. And if not, the beach here is great for making sandcastles. Wanna go with me?" She stands and extends a hand to him. He takes it without hesitation and stands to a height nearly as tall as her own. Cleo can't help but laugh now, her chest filling with the warm urge of affection one feels when they see a litter of puppies waiting to be pet. "Wow, you're already so tall!"

Ilya beams, puffing up his rail-thin frame and putting his hands on his hips. "Mama says all her brothers are giants and I'm gonna be just like them!" Cleo shakes her head; he doesn't know how right he is.

"Right then, let's find your ship." She starts in the direction of the running water, looking back with a radiant smile when Ilya's small hand slips into hers. His spirits seem entirely lifted, though his eyes are still red from crying.

As they walk next to the stream, Cleo takes the opportunity to ask Ilya about his life, his family, his favorite things; and she makes sure to answer with the warmest encouragement she can muster. She points out all the most dangerous roots just waiting to catch his lanky limbs and he steps over them carefully. As they chat and laugh, the once babbling brook picks up steam. A few jutting rocks and rolling rapids wait up ahead, but Cleo can see the forest opening to the starlit beach just past them. The stream runs right out to the ocean.

"Miss Cleo!" Ilya points at one of the rocks, tugging to get her attention. "It's my ship!"

Sure enough, blood-red sails bump into the stone over and over, but the ship doesn't seem to be damaged.

"Looks like it's stuck, but I should be able to bring it to us." Cleo releases his hand and winks. They dash to the spot directly across from the rock.

"I can find a stick for you-"

"Thank you, Ilya, but I have something a bit more magical in mind." Cleo extends her hand, and her magic flies out beyond it, shimmering in the air as if she were casting a net across the stream. Ilya gasps at her side. When the translucent net floats over the toy boat she drops it, then makes a fist as she calls the magic back to her. The little ship bobs across the surface of the water until the boy scoops it up from the bank.

"My ship! Miss Cleo, you did it! Thank you, thank you!" He hugs the toy to his chest, before rounding on his savior to hug her too.

She pats his back. "You're welcome, Ilya. Anytime. Let's head down to the beach and watch her sail!"

With a gleeful bounce to their steps, they finally leave the forest. Thousands of stars twinkle above them, reflected in the gentle waves of the impossibly colorful sea. Before they manage more than a few feet toward the tide, another rustling sound starts from a cluster of nearby bushes. Cleo takes Ilya's hand once more, shuffling him behind her as they wait for whatever might appear.

A dark, towering form steps out of the shadows, but the presence is one she knows well and relief washes over Cleo. "Julian? Is that really you?"

"Cleo! You're here! The real you, that is." Grown-up Julian looks like a mountain of worry has just fallen off his shoulders. Though Cleo notices something else is there, literally. Tiny legs are wrapped around his waist, held up by his arms, and slowly, a head topped with frizzy lilac curls pokes over his shoulder. With a faint "eep!" the little girl drops back down to hide behind his back. Julian whispers "she's shy" dramatically.

"Is that... is that me?" The edges of a headache build behind Cleo's eyes, but nothing worse than finding out she died years ago. She can handle this.

Julian takes great care to gently sit this smaller version of Cleo in the sand. She's gripping a kite in one tiny hand and clinging to Julian's leg with the other. "Yep. At least, her name is Cleo too. She doesn't talk much but that Firenti accent is thick. Lost her kite in a tree, so I got it down and told her we could come down to the beach to fly it, safely. What about you? Looks like you've got quite the handsome escort there."

He winks at Ilya, who steps around Cleo with a new smile. "Miss Cleo used magic to get my boat out of the stream! It was amazing!"

"She's pretty great, isn't she?" Julian reaches for her hand. "Say, is that the good ship Red Velvet? I lost that ages ago!"

"You named your ship after cake?"

"The best cake." Julian and Ilya say in unison.

Cleo leans into his side, biting her lip to keep from laughing. "Well, Ilya, why don't you ask the other Cleo if she'd like to see the Red Velvet's second, more successful, voyage."

He beams but approaches tiny Cleo with caution. "Do you wanna sail her with me? You can have a turn at being captain, I don't mind. A-and we can fly your kite too!"

She looks from one version of Julian to the other, before nodding. The voice that comes out is astonishingly quiet, and the Firenti accent is just as apparent as Julian said. "I've never been a captain before but I'll try my best."

They start the trek down to the water, before getting excited and running full tilt, their little laughs echoing back across the sand. With the toy boat pushed into the sea, their forms begin to lose shape, shimmering around the edges before disappearing entirely.

Alone and reunited in the Magician's realm, Julian sweeps Cleo into his arms, peppering her face with a dizzying amount of joyful kisses before finally meeting her lips properly.

"I assume you were as worried as I was?" Cleo steadies herself with hands on his shoulders. He nods against her forehead and kisses her again. "But that was so cute! You were such a gangly kid!"

He chuckles and she feels the laughter move through her own chest. "Did you see your hair?! It was massive! As big as you were, honestly. You were adorable."

"Well," she feigns offense, clutching at pearls that don't exist, "one of us has grown into their hair and the other is still a little on the gangly side."

Cleo stands on her toes to catch his lips again but they topple into the sand, any further teasing attempts at teasing dying to breathless laughter and smothered kisses.

[chrismerle]

FOR THE FANFIC ASK MEME THING (I finally picked beyond 'just... all of them?'): F, I, K, M, N, Q, S, T, V, W, X, and Y. WHICH ISN'T ALL OF THEM it's just... several...

(from here)

F. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

I’m working on a Final Fantasy XV AU, because that’s basically all I write for FFXV; I really love the building blocks it gave me, but I don’t like a lot of the architecture. Anyway, conceptually it’s a fairly standard ‘what if Ardyn wasn’t a villain?’ thing, and on the off chance it ever sees the light of day, it will be called There Is a Crack in Everything.

This is a really early scene.

Regis stepped into his study, and Ardyn scarcely gave him time to close the door before wondering, with a languid sort of ease, “For how long have I been Adagium?” He sounded as if the word tasted foul.

“Longer than I can be certain of,” Regis sighed, taking his seat at his desk, across from Ardyn.

“And I’ll be able to relax for...how long?” Ardyn wondered pleasantly, leaning an elbow on the desk and propping his chin in his hand. “Before those lovely toy soldiers of yours try to haul me back to my stone box, that is.”

For a moment, Regis was quiet. For a moment, Regis thought of his father. Mors would have reacted the instant he realized who Ardyn was, and Regis wondered how many of the Glaive would have died and what sort of enemy they would have created.

He thought of his son, just a few weeks old. Already, Regis knew he did not want to teach Noctis to be that sort of king.

He did not want to be his father.

“You may stay here, should you wish it,” Regis answered at last.

Ardyn blinked, slowly. His expression didn’t change, but his words seemed carefully picked for carelessness. “And no one will wonder at another of the bloodline suddenly appearing?” he asked. “Or am I forbidden from showing off?”

“We’ll say you’re my half-brother,” Regis answered before he was even fully aware he’d come up with a solution. “It won’t surprise many.”

Ardyn’s eyes narrowed. “You’re awfully eager to dub me family.”

“You already are family,” Regis reasoned. “It seems it’s time someone finally treated you as such.”

That, at last, seemed to unmoor Ardyn. His posture went rigid for a moment as his gaze went distant. Twice, he opened his mouth to respond, before closing it without saying a word.

It took him only a moment to gather his composure, though, before he cleared his throat. “I have to say, this is the most elaborate method anyone has ever used to call me a bastard. I suppose that alone means it’s worth putting up with it.”

Regis laughed before he could help it.

I like it for a handful of reasons. For one thing, I’ve successfully weaponized it (and a few other snippets of the same WIP) to make my friend Ala emotional. For another, I didn’t really see this dynamic between Regis and Ardyn coming. It just sort of happened while I was typing, but I liked it when it showed up. It felt natural for an Ardyn who hadn’t been driven mad by turning countless people into daemons, but who was nevertheless not the same gentle healer after 2,000 years of isolation.

I. Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)?

I got paid for years, plural, to write really bad porn about people who could turn into animals fucking. I have no shame left. I’ve had no shame since the first time someone offered to pay me $500 for smut.

K. What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

It is, again, related to FFXV. I wrote If the Ring Fits and Backed in Silver years ago, and ever since, I’ve tossed around the idea of writing another sequel for Ignis.

The only issue is that my idea for it would forcibly make him realize that the Prompto that had been in their world was not actually their Prompto, and had not been for over a decade. And it would be a conflict he’d have to grapple with through the entire fic, trying to decide whether to force that same replacement on someone in a different world or to just endlessly keep hopping from one world to another because he can’t return to his.

I’ve never actually written any of it, and the concepting never got beyond Ignis’s revelation about Prompto. But considering If the Ring Fits was 10,000 words long and Backed in Silver was 20,000, I can only imagine what sort of behemoth it would be.

M. Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

Like, WIPs, or things that I’ve pondered but haven’t started working on?

I’ve got a few WIPs. There’s the aforementioned non-villainous Ardyn AU. I’ve got another FFXV fic that’s been on hiatus on AO3 for legitimately over three years, and the next chapter is very nearly finished and I just...can’t seem to get there. I’ve got a Persona 5 new game+ fic in the works. That one’s fully plotted out already, and just the outline is like 15 pages long. Based on how the first chapter is going, each chapter will probably be anywhere from 10-20,000 words long. And I’ve got a melancholy immediately-post-season-two Mandalorian one shot in the works, spawned almost entirely so I could make Mando say ‘fuck.’ I know no one says fuck in Star Wars, but I don’t care. I will not say kriff and no one can make me. And I’ve got the Dragon Age uber fic that I’ve just sort of been plugging away at since Inquisition was released and none of it has ever seen the light of day, unless you count me shoving a few snippets at Siobhan.

Oh, and I’m rewriting an older Mass Effect fic.

For things that I’ve thought about but haven’t really worked on, they’re mostly more Dragon Age and FFXV. The “canon” stories for the two timelines not covered in the uber fic, and more AU nonsense spawned from ItRF and BiS.

N. Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you?

Like, finish one of MY fics? No. I would bite them if they tried. Hell, I love you and I would bite you if you tried.

Just, in general? At this point I would take a monkey paw-style deal to get someone to finish Home.

(for anyone who isn’t Jim, Home is a nuTrek Jim/Spock fic that I think I was in high school when it was published. I graduated from college over five years ago.)

Q. How do you feel about collaborations?

Mixed feelings. I’ll take feedback, assuming I’ve offered the mic for it. I’ll prattle on about whatever I’ve got cooking. I’ll ask for ideas or suggestions. But when it comes to the actual writing of it, I’m a control freak. So, people are welcome to help me gather up the building blocks, but I’m gonna wind up doing the actual building myself.

S. Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

Overly elaborate AUs.

T. Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?

That thing fandom does where if they’ve decided a character has anxiety, then it does not matter how that anxiety presents itself in canon, in fanon they are a weepy, shy introvert who can hardly string a sentence together because they’ve polymorphed into a shivering puppy.

V. If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

Does it count if I just say I wanna rewrite a series as a whole? There’s a FrostIron series I read ages ago before the MCU made me wanna gag, and at the time I LOVED it. And then not that long ago I went back and read it again, and it felt like I was saying goodbye to it because oh my god it was unbearable.

Loki was NEVER FUCKING WRONG ABOUT ANYTHING, unless he wasn’t in the room, in which case Tony picked the slack about not ever being wrong about anything.

W. Do you like more general prompts, or more specific ones?

More specific. Not this past Christmas, but the one before that, I was doing some Advent Drabbles for one of my roleplay blogs, so I was open to drabble suggestions anyone wanted to see. Like 70% of them were just one or two words and I’m just staring at my ask box like ‘thanks, I hate it’

(Kudos, though, to the random stranger who gave me a very specific, paragraph-long prompt for a Spider-Man (PS4) fic.)

X. A character you enjoy making suffer.

...All of them?

Y. A character you want to protect.

I guess Din Djarin.

I mean, he still falls into the above ‘all of them’ but when I make him suffer it’s more related to exploring something that happened in canon, rather than me directly causing it.

[merryfortune]

July Nights

Fandom: Animal Crossing New Horizons

Ship: Isabelle/f!Island Representative 

Word Count: 3,488

Tags: Canon Compliant, Fluff, South Hemisphere Setting

   The snow fell peacefully all afternoon and looked gorgeous against the encroaching night. Isabelle watched it from her window with a mug of mocha-caramel coffee to warm her paws. She listened to the click-clack of Tom’s claws on his laptop’s keys as she enjoyed her umpteenth break today.

   The island was so wonderful, every day an idyllic dream, she thought. It had been ages since she had last been asked to scold someone for inappropriate clothes or vulgar language. Her nose wrinkled with a laugh as she mused on that as she took yet another sweet, sweet sip of her coffee and savoured the dulcet taste of it. 

   Isabelle sighed as she let the moment linger before the doors to the Resident Services’s building flung open. She could have jumped out of her skin but thankfully, she hadn’t. Turning herself around to greet the visitor, she noticed that Tom most certainly had. His tail was straight as an arrow but very, very fluffy with his spook as the Island Representative gallivanted inside.

   Cold winds blew right up until those thick, oaken doors shut once more. Even then, Isabelle had to shiver thanks to that icy blast that the Rep had let in as she marched up to oh! To her counter!

   Isabelle couldn’t believe it, she set down her mug of coffee on her desk and she hurried to her side of the long, marble counter which split the Services building in half longways. She smoothed down her dark green skirt and attempted to dazzle the Rep with another one of those million bell smiles of hers - it worked every time.

   The Rep greeted her with a crinkly eyed smile of her own; a hand lifted in greeting as well and it was time to let their dinky little meeting begin. It was always so nice to have something to do, Isabelle thought.

   “So, what did you need today, ma’am?” Isabelle asked.

   “An island evaluation, please.” the Rep chirruped.

   Of course. It was rarely anything else these days. The flag and island tune were all set and all the islanders were getting along for the time being. The only thing there was left to do on the Island Representative’s to-do list was to build up their reputation so that they could get the one and only K.K. Slider to come perform. Oh, that would be so splendid if they could get that to happen.

   “Well,” Isabelle began, her voice perky as she smiled, shuffling papers, “the recent feedback has been stellar but no dice. We come up during many a water cooler chats and we’re making top ten listicles as well but… but we’re still only a four star island, I’m afraid.” 

   “Aw, darn... “ the Rep mumbled; she snapped her fingers, too and Isabelle could just see all her hopes dashing. “I’ve been working really hard on the latest feature of our island, too.” And then just like that, Isabelle could see all her hopes return and surged. Perhaps even more powerfully at that given how her eyes bugged with amazement. “Actually, I know,” she said, “you should come and have a look. It’s finished, I promise. Not like, um, not like with the playground, I swear.”

   Isabelle laughed. Yes, she remembered the playground debacle, ha-ha. The Rep had been so pleased to make all those building blocks and rocking horses and to steamroll that one, perfect piece of the island… only to decide that she wasn’t satisfied with it and put the project on a not quite hiatus. She swears she’ll get back to it… she just needs to do some… remodelling… which she can’t do until she unlocks terraforming… which she can’t do unless K.K Slider comes… which doesn’t matter anyway because her head’s reeling at a million miles an hour with ideas to make their island the bestest that there ever was and it was time to start yet another project scene.

   That’s what Isabelle not so secretly nor not so quietly admired about her. She had such vivacious tenacity which lit up her face with brilliance and such pep in her steps. She never got discouraged and she had high standards for herself and for this Island. She truly was the one meant to be their dear, little island’s Representative. 

   But back to the matter at hand. Isabelle sighed and she bore a sympathetic look into those big, black eyes of her’s.

   “I’m sorry, Rep, but - but I shouldn’t. I’ve got work to do, you know? Um, like, like doing some filing. I have to scan some things and send them to places and-” Isabelle rambled.

   From across the room, Tom put his foot down. He pinched the bridge of his snout with unamused contempt. “Isabelle,” he said firmly, “just take the rest of the night off. If you have unfinished business, I’ll get to it if it’s that urgent but otherwise, come back to it in the morning, with fresh eyes. Some fun would do you some good, you know. You’re still young, too young to be an old fuddy-duddy like me.”

   “Tom!” Isabelle exclaimed whilst the Island Rep laughed in her cushiony chair across from her.

   “So, what do you say? I think you deserve to see the newest sights that way you can write a listicle or whatever when you get back and that might help propel us to that five star rating, yeah?” the Rep teased her.

   “Oh, oh, okay, it’ll be a business trip.” Isabelle said, tail wagging. “That sounds quite acceptable.”

   Tom just groaned hearing his golden protege hear that but it got her out from behind her counter which was the main thing.

   Isabelle trotted out from behind the counter; lifting it up at the middle seam and then put it back perfectly in place. She beamed at the Island Rep who welcomed her with an outreached hand.

   “C’mon, let’s go, I know it’s cold outside but trust me, what I have in store for you will warm you up to the core.” the Island Rep assured her as she began to lead her to the door. 

   Isabelle shivered with excitement, more forcing herself to shiver rather than having done it naturally, as the door was closed. “Ooh, sounds good.” she agreed.

   Tom rolled his eyes from where he worked. Kids, he thought. Although, as he began to pen some numbers down on a notepad to double check his maths, he did briefly wonder if his kids - Timmy and Tommy - would ever be like this. He hoped not. He wanted them to stay small and relatively less annoying like this forever.

   The door opened and everyone inside shivered although, surprisingly, the snow had stopped. But it certainly did look pretty outside. The Island Rep glanced at Isabelle and smiled big. Isabelle laughed and the two rocketed off outside. The Island Rep dragged Isabelle through the snow and it was such crisp joy.

   Snow scrunched and crunched underfoot. It was such fun to run through the flurry as the Rep led Isabelle to the east, first. They rocketed across a wooden bridge and through snow dusted flowers and past a thick, verdant forest all blanketed in the snowy, wintery goodness. The snow on the ground twinkled serenely, even as they ripped through it. Occasionally, they would pass by one of their neighbours who would stop and stare, confused, to see that Isabelle was the one partaking in such hooligan behaviour. The fact that it was the Island Rep leading and initiating such tomfoolery was much less surprising as it was more in line with her behaviour and reputation but not sweet, introverted Isabelle who so rarely stepped a toe outside the Services building.

   They hooked a left up in the middle of this third of the island and began to run out of puff. It was kind of nice, though. As they slowed down and let go of each other, they could see their breath in front of them. A huff and a puff of white clouds which tickled their noses as they started to ascend a stone staircase which was at the bottom of the first of the two upper island crests in this region of the island. 

   Isabelle remembered the ceremony which they had hosted for it the other day. She had wondered why the Rep had decided on that particular location but that idle curiosity had barely consumed her like it was now. Her heart raced as she climbed to the top of the stairs, trying to glance around in the dark where she had stood for the ceremony. The photographs taken then had dazzled her, making her see spots where there weren’t any. The ceremony had been so much fun, actually. It was always fun to pop the poppers but the clean up was always something of a drag. Just because the used streamers were biodegradable

   “We’re almost there.” the Island Rep told Isabelle when they had made it to the top. 

   From where they stood, they were greeted by a sea of flowers all dancing in the moonlight. Petals, red and yellow and white and even some orange and pink, twitched out of synchronicity with one another. There had been some effort to dig the ones out which would get in the way of where people would walk but some had already grown back through.

   The Island Rep noticed and giggled sheepishly but there was no time to get her shovel out and do some more cleaning up. Isabelle didn’t mind.

   “So where is it? The newest feature of our island that you wanted to show me?” she asked.

    She looked around; towards the inlet which had a waterfall, just past that grove of trees and then the other way, there it was a clear view to the sea. Isabelle couldn’t see a manmade object in sight but that wasn’t a bad thing. The natural look was so, so beautiful as well.

   The Island Rep’s already sheepish demeanour turned yet even more so. She was a little embarrassed as she rubbed the back of her head.

   “We still have a little more to go.” the Rep said. “We’re gonna need to climb a ladder. Are you alright using mine?”

   “Oh!” Isabelle exclaimed with a blink. “That’s a little… dangerous. No, adventurous. It’s adventurous. I’d be happy to… so long as you help.”

   She asked so cutely, how could the Island Rep say no?

   “It’ll be easy as pie.” the Rep replied after a slightly longer than intended pause. And then she had a sudden epiphany, eyes going up wide. “You can go first but promise not to look, I want to be there when you see it.”

   “Okay, okay, I can do that.” Isabelle replied with laughter in her voice.

   Together, the Island Rep and Isabelle moseyed up to the next set of cliffs. It was daunting but with more than enough ease, the Island Rep whipped out her ladder and set to work with helping Isabelle up.

   It was probably only a three-four foot incline upwards but Isabelle was shaken nonetheless. At the bottom of the ladder, the Island Rep held it steady whilst Isabelle so carefully climbed up and made it to the top of the highest area of the island. Once Isabelle gave her the a-okay, the Rep clambered up as fast as she could.

   At the final rung of the ladder, Isabelle offered the Rep her paw and the Rep took it. With a great heft, Isabelle helped the Island Rep to her feet. She was then satisfied and returned the ladder to her inventory. All whilst Isabelle kept her promise. She didn’t sneak a single look at what was behind her whilst the Rep was preoccupied with her pockets. 

   “Okay, I’m ready.” the Rep said.

   “Oooh, I’m so excited.” Isabelle could have danced on the spot with her overexcitement.

   “You can look now then.” the Rep said.

   Isabelle turned around and she gasped. A hot springs had been installed by the riverbed. 

   “Do you like it?” the Rep asked.

  Isabelle was too stunned to speak as she let her eyes savour what had been prepared before her. Her tail lifted, went stock still, before wagging immensely as she glanced around but her eyes kept coming back to the formation of rocks in the very centre of this plane which had been mostly cleared of trees. Reams of steam curled up off the still, warm water of the hot spring which had been installed. A little clay froggy sat at the back of the rocks and there was a sign customised with a bowl of fruit. Bamboo grew towards the far sides of the cliff and Isabelle sighed. Two types of fruit trees had been planted nearby and she could smell their deliciously sweet scents. There was a hat stand to look after discarded clothes nearby and an array of zen pillows to sit on: all coloured greens and golds, standing out against the white of the fallen snow. 

   “Oh, I love it, Rep,” Isabelle swooned, “this is easily your best work yet.”

   “D’aw, thanks.” the Rep replied, rubbing beneath her nose to further hide the blush on her cheeks in the dark.

   “It’s a shame, it’s far too cold to soak, I think.” Isabelle replied. “We should wait for spring…”

   “That’s quitter talk, Isabelle.” the Rep said and she smacked Isabelle good-naturedly between her shoulders.

   “I dunno…” Isabelle quibbled. 

   “Please, I brought us some wrap-around towels and spare clothes. If we’re quick, we won’t be cold.” the Rep insisted pleadingly.

   Isabelle looked towards her. Those cute little eyes of the Rep’s made it so difficult to say no to so she sighed. She laughed awkwardly and rubbed her arms.

   “Okay,” she said, “let’s do it.”

   “Yes, I knew you’d come around.” the Rep exclaimed.

   The Island Representative fussed about with her inventory again. She got changed into a wraparound towel and then passed a second one onto Isabelle. She trembled on the spot as she held onto the item in question. It was so sweet of the Island Rep to have gotten one in one of her favourite colours; Isabelle had always felt that earthy tones like brown looked best on her. Excited, Isabelle got changed and she almost couldn’t bear it.

   It was far too cold to be walking around in a bath towel, Isabelle could have squealed. She had a nice thick coat of winter fur on but that poor human of hers. She didn’t know how the Island Rep did it. Running around in all sorts of things; swimming in the sea, looking for sea critters. Argh, the thought alone terrified Isabelle and froze her to the core.

   Absorbed by all her playful misery, the Island Rep took the initiative once again. She took Isabelle by the paw and tugged her towards the hot springs. They leapt into it as though they were leaping into the sea. Hot water went everywhere and they sank the depths, rising up, heads bobbing, and laughing so hard with the mess they had made.

   “Oh, Rep, you are such a card.” Isabelle exclaimed in something of a whiny voice.

   The Island Representative laughed. Heck yeah she was. 

   As the Island Rep’s giggles faded out, Isabelle began to smile. She sighed and they both enjoyed a moment of eventual quiet. It was nice. 

   Isabelle tilted her head up and she gasped. The skies were so beautiful tonight. She glanced downwards and she noticed all the night sky’s reflection in the water in between the ripples and the curls of steam. Isabelle could not be more enchanted as she felt her heart pound just that little bit more quickly in her fluffy chest.

   She turned her head to the Island Rep, she looked so darling with water in her hair and stars in her eyes. She, too, equally as mesmerised with the fruit of her labour. Gosh, she couldn’t have picked a better spot for such a lovely and serene scene as this, Isabelle wanted to praise her.

   “Thank you for this.” Isabelle found herself saying, not thinking.

   The Island Representative seemed to have not been expecting that. She seemed a little spooked by what Isabelle had suddenly said but it turned to humility.

   “I’m glad you like it.” she replied. 

   Isabelle beamed. Her joy was delightful on her furry muzzle and the Island Rep relished the expression. The crinkles on the side of her eye, particularly note worthy despite being so small and in the dark as well.

   The water had long since stilled despite their entry into it and Isabelle disrupted it, unthinking. She moved in closer to the Island Rep. Her paw fumbling over the Rep’s hand and she stroked at it, awkwardly. The Island Rep didn’t mind, not even when Isabelle’s claws, non-retractable as she was a canine, lightly grazed over her skin.

   “You do a lot for us.” Isabelle added, not quite yet done with praising the Island Rep. “For the Island, not just me.”

   “I gotta.” the Rep said. “I love you guys.” She felt a bulge form in her throat and it made her hesitate; to double guess herself and the like but ever the ragamuffin, the only way she knew to handle it was by going through, guns blazing and the like. “I love you too, Isabelle. A lot, even.” Her heart pounded and she still found words to blurt out. “I’m glad we could have tonight together. To do something special.”

   The Island Rep still felt as though she had more to say but instead, she found herself being sucked into the awespiring blackholes of Isabelle’s eyes. They kept widening and widening and were still somehow getting wider with her wonder at the Island Represenative’s confession. The shock was sweet and palpable. 

   “....Really?” Isabelle whispered. “You… love me?”

   “Mmhm, most of all.” the Island Rep promised and she took Isabelle’s paws - both of them. She held them tightly. The Island Rep could feel the squishy bits of Isabelle’s paws on her palms; they felt like plush leather, it was sensory heaven to her, even submerged in the water.

   “Oh, that’s lovely, thank you, I - I love you too.” Isabelle said.

   Isabelle reefed her paws out from the Rep’s hands and flung them towards her face in an exuberant hug. The embrace which ensued with messy and had them splashing about in the hot springs but it was so, so much fun. And it ended with them settling down, with haphazard breaths and they stared into each other’s eyes.

   “May I?” Isabelle asked. Her words were slow and tender, mixing up in the steam still roiling off the meniscus of the hot springs.

   “Of course.” the Island Representative replied; Isabelle didn’t even have to ask but it was sweet that she had.

   Isabelle pawed at the Rep’s face as she angled her own so as to get everything in the direction it ought to be going. So that noses wouldn’t bump into each other; so that teeth wouldn’t clink against teeth but all that happened anyway. It simply couldn’t be helped but at least it was funny. When they finally started to kiss each other - contact, warm, lip to lip and mouth to mouth - they were both laughing.

   Isabelle’s kiss was everything that the Island Representative thought it would be. A little strange thanks to the physiological differences but it worked out nicely regardless. Isabelle’s kiss was a smooth caress, pressing forward but only with permission, with deft flicks of her wagging tongue whilst the Island Rep was a bit less controlled than that. Despite being human, she tried to be big and grand and long. She was free flying passion, poking forward with curiosity and excitement. 

   They were both loath to end it but they had to breathe on their own eventually. When it ended, there were stars in both their eyes and a fantastic happiness in both their hearts.

   “I promise to take you on more breaks like this one soon.” the Island Rep said and she finally felt that she may have everything she had ever wanted off her chest now.

   Isabelle giggled, demure. “I shall look forward to it.” She was evasive as she had her own designs - soon to be quite literally - now in her own mind. What if… for August… she could finally have plenty more escapes from behind the desks to light up the night with the Island Representative. Wouldn’t that be lovely?

   For now, they just revelled in the lovestruck looks that they couldn’t tear away from each other. Soaking in the cool, winter air of July nights and the warm water of the hot springs. Not even minding that, eventually, they would have to get out and what a hop, skip, and a jump of trouble that would be but for now, they would enjoy what they had a little bit longer.

[sourwolfstories]

Hi!!!! First of all, thank you for all you do, you really rec the such good fics!! Secondly, I’m pretty new to the fandom and was wondering what all the staple, fandom classics that everyone has read are? (And if there’s any that aren’t classics but you think should be) thank you!!!!!

Hello there and welcome to the fandom!!

Okay so here a handful of the most popular and most read sterek fics (they all have at least 300k hits on ao3). I couldn’t list all of them as there are so, so many great fics but these are some of my personal favorites as well. Hope you enjoy!

Home by TheTypewriterGirl

January seventh. Seven days since the start of 2015, and seven days since his father’s death.

The bastard, he thinks bitterly. The past year Derek Hale had made it blatantly obvious that he hated his scrawny guts, taking every given opportunity to shove him up against a wall, growl threats in his ears and roll his eyes whenever he stepped into the room, muttering some snide comment about how spastic or idiotic he was.

So why did he fucking volunteer to take him in?

Gravity’s Got Nothing On You by zosofi

“Three weeks,” Derek says.

“Still don’t want to,” Stiles says.

“I’ll pay you,” Derek says, and that… that has Stiles interested. Alf’s Antique’s may be a great job, but it’s not a high-paying job, and half of Stiles’s tuition is coming from financial aid, so…

“How much,” Stiles asks, “are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after.“

“My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world,” Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, “they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks.”

“A thousand,” Stiles says, because screw ethics. Also, the Hale family is loaded. Derek can deal.

Prince Among Wolves by Rawren (Deshonanana)

Looking for full day/evening sitter. 2 twin boys age 4. Must have exp. w/werewolves. Must be human. No pedophiles. No teenage girls. Pay negotiable.

DILF by twentysomething

“Today is Scott’s first day of kindergarten and Derek is terrified.”

Every Step You Take by Nokomis

Stiles accidentally ends up magically bound to Derek. It’s super.

Cupboard Love by mklutz

He’s carefully balancing the sandwiches and the two biggest tupperware containers he could find that both had functioning lids when the front door opens and he almost drops everything right there in front of the stupid fountain.

If that’s Derek Hale, he’s definitely not a mountain man.

Stilinski’s Home for Wayward Wolves by owlpostagain

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

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

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

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

—

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

No Homo by orphan_account

Stiles’ sophomore year starts something like this:3 FourLokos+ 1 peer-pressuring cat- 1 best bro to end all best bros= 1 Craigslist ad headline that reads “str8 dude - m4m - strictly platonic”.Derek is the fool who replies.

By Any Other Name by entanglednow

He doesn’t know his name, he doesn’t know who he is, and neither does the werewolf he’s on the run with. But he’s pretty sure they hunt monsters, because they seem to be really good at it.

Cornerstone by Vendelin

Suffering from PTSD, ex-Marine Derek Hale moves back to Beacon Hills to open a bookshop and find a calmer life. That’s where he meets Stiles, completely by accident. Stiles is talkative, charming and curious. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s blind, he’s able to read Derek like no one else.

Fly a Little Faster by mirrorkill

Everyone knows when you go back in time, you shouldn’t step on an ant, just in case you accidentally kill your own grandparent or something. But what happens when you go back in time and, uh, accidentally interrupt the one event that apparently made the Grumpiest Alpha in Town into a ball of mindless manpain?

Well, if Marty McFly can do it, so can Stiles Stilinski. All he has to do is get Derek and Paige to fall in love before he gets pulled back to his own time. And before he makes anything worse. That’s easy as pie, right? Right?

Crash Landers by gyzym

In which Stiles learns to Stalk That Stalk. (Or, how to accidentally woo your unfriendly neighborhood alpha in roughly five hundred handwritten steps.)

Permanent Fixture by linksofmemories_archive

Derek is Scott’s older brother. Stiles is Scott’s best friend. Derek is falling in love with Stiles. This is a bit of a problem.

Fireman Derek’s Crazy Pie [Cheeseburger Baby] by owlpostagain

“He can’t blame me for the fact that I live in a building full of people united in the singular effort to ogle Hot Fireman as often as humanly possible.“

Laura laughs, loud and echoing in the empty restaurant.

"Hot firemen can make a girl do crazy things,” she agrees, nodding towards her brother’s name on the menu. “Derek won’t let me date anyone from his company, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the eye candy.”

“Send them my way,” Stiles suggests, finally loading up a forkful of pie. “Apparently I’m incompetent enough that I need to be babysat at all times, because it would be cheaper than dispatching a truck every time I try to use a kitchen appliance.”

There is a Brotherhood by minusoneday

So far, college has taught Stiles three things:

1) Eight am classes are cruel and unusual and should be avoided at all costs, even if it means having to enroll in something truly hideous instead, like Econ 101.

2) Dorm security is just as tight as Stiles’ orientation leader had promised it would be, and the dude guarding Scott’s dorm in particular does not respond well to bribes.

3) Mrs. McCall clearly had no clue what she was talking about when she’d insisted that Scott and Stiles needed to branch out and room with strangers, so it’s all her fault that Scott ended up with a total dick of a roommate and Stiles got stuck all the way across campus with some guy who has a girlfriend two towns over and is thus never around.

Or, the one where pledge brothers Stiles and Scott start a prank war with Derek Hale’s fraternity.

What I Did On My Summer Vacation by grimm

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

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

[vvardenfellcat]

SHIPPING INFO // Answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog. REPOST. Don’t reblog.

Stolen from uh...lots of people at this point. Took me a while to get to it. @aglitchinemotion finally got my booty in gear tho.

WHAT’S YOUR OTP FOR YOUR MUSE(S)?

I have a few... Though it’s more of ‘hey these two/three/etc would be cute and actually get along and heeeeyyyy that might actually work in canon! I wonder...

Nothing’s canon yet for TES!J’hasi, though Aldaril and Morwaen have a one-sided thing going on atm. Mori, pls...show the poor mer some mercy...

Modern!TES AU J’hasi, Maarzi, and Jeer-Rah are a thing, Al and Morwaen are a thing, Icarus and mead is a thing... All the ships. Welcome to my self-indulgent paradise.

WHAT ARE YOU WILLING TO RP WHEN IT COMES TO SHIPPING?

Depends on how well I know you. Unless you’re Paige I doubt it would go further than fade to black after smooches and whatnot. I’ve started writing the Porns™ to try and see if I like doing it/find it worthwhile, and while I enjoy the emotionally-connected ones, the stand of the night type ones aren’t fun to me. Still have to issue copies to Quality Control to determine their Hot Stuff merit.

TL;DR full blown prons are doubtful unless I’m really close friends with the mun first, else varies between No and fade-to-black depending on how well I know the mun.

HOW LARGE DOES THE AGE GAP HAVE TO BE TO MAKE IT UNCOMFORTABLE?

Under 18 is a Hell No, TES is uh...weird with people living hundreds of years and yet some only 80ish or w/e so I guess it depends on how old they seem? Mer, man. Can’t get a good bead on em agewise. I suppose if there’s like a huge gap like Mr. 800 years old shacking up with someone around 400 that would be weird to me. A hundred years gap wouldn’t be too bad assuming the younger is like...30s? 40s? At least. Mid 20s would be the lowest I’d go with something like that, and even then that’s pushing it. Two hundred gap would be ehh...and anything beyond that is sort of a ‘how is each individual case like’?

Modern AU (aka not TES Modern AU) I guess like 10 ish gap is the most? Not much higher than that because then you get weird things of like ‘oh I was a teenager when you were born’ stuff and that rubs me the wrong way.

ARE YOU SELECTIVE WHEN SHIPPING?

I mean I’m a bit selective with rping, like...I can’t up and ship with someone if I don’t know them. And yes, that has happened in the past and it made me not want to ship ever again because someone didn’t know/didn’t care that it’s not cool to write my character for me. And horribly OOC too. Yuck.

Honestly we’d have to be mutuals for a while before I’d be okay with shipping. Especially if it was J’hasi because LET ME TELL YOU THAT BOY FEEL TOO GOTDAMN MUCH FOR HIM GOTDAMN HEART. And yeah they have to have chemistry. And while most of my characters are more easygoing with the romance and boinking stuff, J’hasi is one of those that’s hard to get to that point because Trust Issues and whatnot. Anyone’s welcome to try, just know that we’d have to know each other and the muses in question would have to have some chemistry before anything progresses beyond verbal sparring.

HOW FAR DO STEAMY MOMENTS HAVE TO GO BEFORE THEY’RE CONSIDERED NS.FW?

Once someone goes beyond the belt, that’s the point that I’d say yeah that’s nsfwy-stuffs. Smooches and whatnot are safes, making out, etc, but once someone starts digging around in the other’s pants then yeah that’s a decent marker. I’d likely readmore it once it got beyond smooches for sake of people who don’t want to read two muses fooling around with each other but it wouldn’t get the NSFW tag until aforementioned marker.

WHO ARE OTHER MUSES YOU SHIP YOUR MUSE WITH?

I thought I was asked this before x_x UHHHHMMM usually it’s more of ‘who’s possible’, since I don’t set anything in stone until the characters meet in RP. I may misread a character and then the ship would be weird once I learn my mistake, so I tend to ask lots of questions of the person in question like ‘if x met y and they did z, how would they react?’ I do this with situations outside of shipping too because I LIKE LEARNING ABOUT CHARACTERS MANG.

Private ships are private ships, usually self-indulgent whatever to help me practice writing interpersonal communication and possibly sexytiems so I can learn what sounds natural because it’s a new type of writing for me, same as when I was first learning how to write actiony stuffs and MAJOR DOOM plots and whatever. The pronoun game kills me because 90% of it is gay. Maarzi and her gf Riheh is one of my fave ships because MAARZI IS SUCH A FUCKING TEASE AND THEN RIHEH CATCHES HER OFF-GUARD CONSTANTLY AND I LOVE THEM.

...I just realized I haven’t done any straight NSFW yet aside from that thread with Moj and Sham. I should...probably remedy that. Oops.

DOES ONE HAVE TO ASK TO SHIP WITH YOU?

I’m fine with your character feeling as they will, it’s your character, that’s how they do. It’s when you try to push it onto my character without asking for permission that I get irritated. Like by all means, a character can make passes at mine, flirt, w/e, that’s totally fine. It’s when someone thinks that because my muse reacts a certain way back that they think it’s canon then, which. No. You ask me.

Sometimes my characters flirt back because that’s just how they are. They might be trying to use your muse’s apparent interest to suit their needs. Muses may not explain their reasoning for acting x way, so it’s better to ask me to see if it’s genuine ‘ay let’s ship’ vs ‘my character is using yours to get out of a situation or for their own selfish gain’. Plus, if I don’t know you, a ship isn’t going to happen. I need to know the mun before I make any commitments.

HOW OFTEN DO YOU LIKE TO SHIP?

I’m with Dust!mod on this one, when it makes sense. I’m not romantically inclined irl, so it’s not like I Need it, it’s just something fun and new to play with, like when you get a new toy. You have lots of other toys, and that’s yet another you have at your disposal. Say that you think that the situation would be more exciting if Mr. Dinosaur came in and interrupted the tea party with some dire news from the front, or maybe he wants to confess that he loves Mr. Sheep and doesn’t want Mr. Sheep to elope with Tonka Truck, or that Tonka Truck was actually using Mr. Sheep for his billions in assets to make war on the Hot Wheels regime. It could be integral to the plot, or just give another facet to it, adding some extra drama to the Shit Going Down. The world is your oyster, friend.

ARE YOU MULTISHIP?

Nnnnnnah. I tried AU stuff with other fandoms, didn’t like, and I don’t need multiple verses of the same TES verse to handle. Not to mention like...why would you multiship when you can have polyamory? Way easier imo. Imagine the cuddlepiles. The only exception I have for this is Modern!TES but that’s more of ‘this is my self-indulgent paradise, I’ll make everyone hold hands if I want to’, and that’s...kinda my personal verse since I haven’t really talked about it much and I don’t think other people would be into it lmao

ARE YOU SHIP OBSESSED OR SHIP MORE-OR-LESS?

If it’s friends, lovers, rivals, sworn enemies, whatever relationship a muse has with another, it’s all good in my book. It’s great to have character-developing interactions no matter how it’s brought about, if your friend is concerned about x habit you have, or if you got the hots for some new friend on the block, or if you can’t fucking stand your new co-worker/peer, or someone decided that You Need To Die For X Reason And You Just Won’t Go Quietly.

I don’t hold any over the others in terms of importance, like sometimes I’m more in the mood for rival battles, sometimes I just want nerds to cuddle and read together. It just depends on what mood I’m in for at the moment.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SHIP IN YOUR CURRENT FANDOM?

Uhhhhhh I can’t think of any atm. I get a stupid grin on my face when me and @brothersofthedominion come up with ideas for our plots involving a giant golden boy and a srs golden girl, but my current favorite ship that I think about a lot is stuck in self-indulgent paradise world.

FINALLY, HOW DOES ONE SHIP WITH YOU?

I gotta know who tf you are first. Ask interactions are good for this, because then it unlocks the possibility of rps, which then once I have a good idea of who you are, then there’s a chance of shipping. Else it’s gonna end up being your muse tryna flirt with mine with little chance of getting anywhere other than flirting back or in J’hasi’s case, likely a big fat |:/

[todokori-kun]

WELCOME BACK!

 <3 I really missed you, and it’s so great to hear you had fun! (and omg yes so ready to see all those beautiful pics)

Yaaayyyy join me in MCU feels hell. And oooh, you have a ship for the fandom now! Like, Stoki’s still my favorite Steve pairing but Stony’s really cool too…you know I ship almost everything XD (also am I the only person who sorta hated almost everyone by the end of CW? Like, of course they’re still my favs and there are still some cinnamon rolls, but, come on. Why couldn’t you all just get along ;-;)

Speaking of Illumi, do you know that Hisoka/Illumi is an incredibly popular ship in the HxH fandom? Probably because both of them are so horrible that they have like 0 friends other than each other. Nobody else wants to hang out with these losers. (Chrollo tolerates Hisoka and the adults in Illumi’s family seem to spend enough time with him to give him orders, but that’s about it.) It’s a trash ship with two trashy people and tbh I love it XD

So continuing with the eye jokes, imagine. Hisoillu version of Helpless. Hisoillu version of Satisfied.

“Look into his eyes and the sky’s the limit”

“Intelligent eyes in a hunger-pang frame”

(I know you did thise one before but still) “But when I fantasize at night, it’s Illumi’s eyes”

just, I’m imagining animatics for this with the ‘camera’ zooming in on Illumi’s dead fish eyes every time the lyrics mention them. It’s hilarious and also mildly terrifying

(though I guess if we’re actually making a Hamilton AU Hisoka’s way more likely to do something like Say No To This…)

idk if I’d want to be a parent either really LOL. Kids are adorable but I don’t think I’ll ever be responsible enough to raise one…

If Ishida makes a plot twist or something about it being someone else pretending to be Hide I'm actually gonna get mad. Dude. Not only would that bring the Hide feels right back it’d just make absolutely no sense omg

(also you read the new chapter, right? So, let’s talk about Juuzou and that huge death flag)

I’ve heard of Soul Eater and considered reading it but it’s not really the kind of thing I’m into…artwork’s cute, though, and Death the Kid seems like an interesting guy so maybe someday XD

AGH I’M ACTUALLY SORTA JEALOUS BECAUSE WOW I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA HOW TO WATCH THAT LEGALLY HERE IN KOREA. (unless I ask my dad for help but he doesn’t like manga/anime at all, so…) But yes, I’m really happy Lizzy finally got her moment this time! Now anime-only fans can’t complain about her being a ‘shallow’ character so hopefully there’ll be less fighting over Lizzy in the Kuro fandom :D

FINALLY. Fellow Death Note fan <3333 Who’s your fav? Do you have any ships? Are you done with the anime??? :D (also do you know…you picked a really interesting time to join the DN fandom. The American live-action movie just came out and it sucks so freaking bad, like I haven’t even watched it yet and just from the reviews/clips, here’s what I got:

-They turned Misa into this Harley Quinn-type character. Only without any depth.

-Light/Misa is an actual canon ship, like, it’s not abusive or one-sided like it is in the anime/manga, it’s just…a thing. Light loves Misa. Misa loves Light. It’s like every cringey high school romance movie ever, only with more murder

-They freaking bent the Death Note rules just so Light could get away with all sorts of ridiculous stuff

-L cries, L rants, L is overly emotional

-Light tells L where he hid a page from his Death Note. Light doesn’t deny being Kira. Light shows Misa his Death Note when they like barely know each other and she’s still a complete stranger to him. Light acts like an idiot.

-Oh sure, he’s Kira, God of the New World, but he still cares about going to prom with his girlfriend and making stupid faces as they pose for pictures

-So much unnecessary gore. Heart attacks are Kira’s thing, Light isn’t that emotional about his kills, he doesn’t care as long as the 'villains’ are dead, so why???

-Apparently Rem does not exist. Sayu doesn't exist either. Light’s mom is dead (probably so he can angst over her)

-Light Turner. Light TURNER. Out of all the surnames they could have chosen…

-And now, for the most unforgivable sin:

How dare they not include the Potato Chip scene)

And then random things: JJ and Light have the same voice actor. Yurio and Mello (imo…have you met Mello yet?) could be long-lost twins.

Also:

I’ve fallen into Steven Universe hell and now I’m imagining so. Many. Gem AUs. Have you ever heard of SU?

(look:

1- don’t stress about the messages, and come on, I’d never get mad at you over something like this! You’re way too awesome.

2-  I don’t really know what to say 'cause I’m bad at comforting people, but ugh, it sucks to hear that school’s tiring you out! Queen Luna’s gonna get through this, though. I mean, you’re great at so many things and you’re freaking smart and…this is awkward but maybe you understand Evans Language by now? XD Guess I’m just trying to say that I’m sure you’ll do great, and if you ever need someone to talk to I’m (almost) always free *hugs*

3- Um. So, other than tumblr, I think the only way I can talk with you right now is if we email each other? The email address I used this time is my real one (or rather, my dad’s, since I don’t have one of my own yet…) so maybe we can talk about this more through email and find a better way to contact each other? If that’s ok with you can you send me a message there?)

P.S:

I’ve started college and have no idea what I’m doing

*slams head against keyboard* guess who managed to get sick. It’s only been a week since school started. Whatever, I’m still going to school, but I woke up breathing like a fish on land, bc asthma. Yay.

I’m definitely gonna upload the pics today!!

Okay, but one thing I’m wondering about, is How? Not in a malicious way or anything, I’m genuinely curious to why you ship Stoki (and where it began). Was it that redemption fic you told me about or did you ship it before? 

Tbh, I didn’t hate the characters in CW, I hated the situation. Because there’s so so much pointless conflict that could easily be solved if everyone sat down and talked like normal people. But nooo we have to go around attacking each other. ((ALSO CAP’S LETTER TO TONY, I AM DEAD))

I’ve already learned (and experienced) that shipping is a very weird and unusual thing, so I’ll be honest and say I’m not even surprised that ship exists. At least it has some basis XD

I’m actually tempted to go through the lyrics of the whole musical and find every single eye line there is, only to replace it w Illumi’s eyes.

Not only zooming in on the eyes, the word itself is louder than the rest XD man if only I could draw…

Tbh I’d say I’m responsible enough (HA, that’s more or less a lie), but I’m honestly way too irritated with the little ones to be able to have one of my own. My cousin recently celebrated her 3rd bday and I was stuck looking after her during the party, bc all the adults were talking among themselves and I swear to god, I haven’t moved that much since I had to run 2km for PE. Where do they get their energy. Not to mention the adults thought it would be a good idea to leave me w her, because I’d already drunk 3 glasses of wine (i was bored and not allowed to do anything other than stare at emptiness or look after a 3yo). Turns out my tolerance isn’t that bad after all.

Lol let’s be honest, Ishida would totally do that. He knows the fandom would riot and that’s the whole point.

All the death flags. Tbh I don’t know how I feel about it. It’s obvious that either Touka or Juuzou are probably gonna die and I wan’t neither (If I have to choose tho, I’d rather Juuzou survives.) Also Naki. HNNNNNNGH

I think you’d actually like the manga? It takes a pretty dark turn compared to the anime and deals with lots of mental issues (the whole theme of the later volumes is Madness). Also, lots of death XD Well, the artwork changes drastically, so which one are you talking about XD

The girl in the coat (left first pic, middle 2nd) is the same person for reference. Death the Kid was one of my first anime crushes. The guy has OCD and is a total badass. 

MUHAHAHAHA I think someone uploaded the Lizzy fight to youtube so you can probably find it there, but I am in love. The animation is beautiful, so that’s also a huge plus. All in all, it was handled really well.

Death Note

So last I’ve watched is ep 25, aka the one WHERE L DIES. And i am not okay. I am nowhere near okay. Nope. Not at all.

Oh i’ve heard all about the adaptation. Tbh I find the whitewashing hilarious. Setting the movie in America removes so much of the series’s logic, so why? L being the way he is is probably my favourite mistake. They took the best character and ruined him completely.  POTATO CHIP SCENE NOOOO But my question is: did everything go just according to the keikaku?

Have fun w SU! I’ve watched it for a while, but gave up at some point. I might pick it up again if I have the time ^^ Word of advice, watch out for the fandom, they’re among the most toxic ones I’ve ever encountered. One time, they almost drove an artist to suicide because she didn’t draw Rose ‘thick enough’. So yeah.

What did I do to deserve you as my friend TT^TT Thank you so so much, those words mean more than you can imagine.

Um. Looks like we’ll be staying here, because I never, ever check my mail, despite getting school assignments there, so yeah. If we used mail, you’d probably get a response every leap year.

How does the education system work in Korea? Like, at what age do you start going to which school?

Also, I’ve told you about Mystic Messenger? I think you’d like the newest update, because damn, it’s creeping me out. Also, it’s in Korean, so + ((My thoughts during the prologue of the new route: Nani the fuck))

[kittenwritesstuff]

The things we do for love

Fandom: The Lord of The Rings Pairing: Aragorn x reader Genres: angst, mention of injury, fluff Words: 1.710 Summary: Reader gets hurt during a battle and Aragorn takes nursing her back to health upon himself - requested by Anonymous 

It was happening too fast. It was way too intense for you to fathom precisely and with every detail what had transpired.

You were hurt, that was for sure. The burning, sickening pain in your stomach was too vivid for it to not be real. The world around you was spinning fast, the noises coming as though through a thick blanket. Then, you felt as if you were drowning. The sense of reality, of being in a place had left you and you collapsed heavily on the ground, Legolas’ golden locks the last thing your eyes managed to catch before you gave in to the darkness.

______

There is a fire blazing in your guts but you can do nothing to stop it. Your hands are not yours because they do not move when you order them to. Your eyes are not yours for they do not open upon your demand.

You do not belong to yourself. How can you when everything you are built of is a scorching, head-spinning ache? It starts in your belly, yet by now it crept into every cell, every fiber of your body.

“Do not move, Y/N,” a voice sooths gently but do not recognize who is speaking. You cannot think of anything else than unparalleled, unimaginable agony that has taken over your body and mind.

“I will care for you, I will heal you. I promise you that,” the voice assures and somewhere in your mind, a tiny flicker of hope lights up.

Yet, you cannot hold onto it. Once again, you welcome the comforting unconsciousness.

______

“You need to prepare that she might not survive.”

“She will, I know it. I must hope. I must try. If the hands of a king are the hands of a healer, than we shall see what a king I truly am.”

“You are very stubborn, my friend.”

“Gandalf, I cannot give her up, not when she was by my side throughout that journey. Not when she risked her life for all of us.”

“Yet you said nothing-“

“And I won’t say a thing until Y/N’s well. How is Frodo?”

“Lord Elrond has been personally tending to him, and I do believe our hobbit will soon be in a good health again.”

“That’s a good news, a very good news…”

“If I may add-“

“I have already heard it, Gandalf. You don’t have to repeat yourself.”

“If you say so, dear friend. One would think, three simple words, when apart so very easy to say, when together – that’s a different story, isn’t it?”

“It’s not a time for that, not now. She has to be aware, has to hear…”

______

“Mister Strider, can she hear me?”

“I’m not sure, Sam, but you can speak. Maybe you can wake her up, who knows?”

“What should I say?”

“Whatever you wish to.”

“W-what are you doing?!”

“I must change the dressings. Speak to her, it’s calming her.”

“M-miss Y/N, it’s me, Samwise Gamgee. I know it is much to ask, but could you maybe consider returning to us sooner? We all miss you a lot, and Merry cannot wait to hug you!”

“Oh, can he now?”

“Don’t tell him I told that! He’s afraid you’d smack him if you found out.”

“Why would I ever do that, Sam?”

“Well, uhm… you don’t leave her bedside. It does show how much y-you care about her.”

“I do, yes.”

“Did you hear that, Y/N? Mister Strider, too, wants you to be with us!”

“My dear Sam, you cannot imagine how much I wish for her to be back.”

“I miss her, to be frank. The War is over and the Ring is destroyed, times are better. Yet without miss Y/N, I just can’t seem to be fully happy. Do you understand, mister Strider?”

“I do, Sam. And how many times should I tell you to call me by my name?”

“Yes, apologies. Is her wound healing?”

“Slowly, but it does. I do my best, but we need time.”

“I just hope she’ll wake up sooner than later.”

“I hope so, too, Sam.”

______

“You need rest.”

“I don’t. Not until she’s awake.”

“How long have you been staying by her side?”

“A week or so?”

“Have you eaten anything?”

“Yes, Sam brought me plenty.”

“She does look better. Less pale. Did the bleeding stop?”

“Yes, two days ago.”

“You’re healing her, Aragorn.”

“I hope it’s true, Legolas, I hope she’s healing because of me. That’s the least I can do to repay. On the battlefield, when she’s got hurt – she was saving me. I know that. I would have-“

“But you have not. And trust me on this – the sooner you tell her, the quicker she opens her eyes.”

“Why is everyone convincing me to speak of my feelings? My hands can heal, not my words.”

“Oh, my friend, have you not learnt by now that words can mend what hands cannot? That maybe it is what Y/N is waiting for?”

“I-I don’t-“

“Are you certain of what your heart wants?”

“Yes.”

“Then what are you waiting for, you fool?”

_____

It seems as if everything you feel, everything you hear and experience is only but a dream. It feels like you are dreaming, or your mind decided to flood you with imaginary events to somehow deal with inevitable end.

Yet, it also seems real. You are finally able to move your limbs. Only a bit, a tiny fidget of your finger but you do it.

And it makes Aragorn freeze in place. He is kneeling by the bed you’re lying on, his hands sunk in a bowl with water, his eyes never leaving you.

“Y/N?” he whispers, sure that what he saw was nothing but a fantasy, an imagine produced by his tired mind.

So, you do it again.

“Y/N, do you hear me?”

Unable to form any words, you only make a tiny noise – a breathy moan, barely audible. You hear a shuffling, and a voice comes from somewhere closer now. Aragorn strokes the top of your palm tenderly, a gesture that would surely ignite shivers if you could feel anything more than dull ache.

“You were hit by one of Uruk-hai. The wound was not big or deep, the blade was poisoned and that’s why you were suffering so much. I do hope you’re better now, I did my best…”

“Y/N, please, can you try and open your eyes for me?”

You summon all your strength and order heavy eyelids to lift. They do, slowly and you blink few times to adjust to the light. It is not bright – few candles are lit in otherwise dark room.

You slide your head to the side and your gaze focused on Aragorn – he looks as if he hasn’t slept in ages; his skin is pale, his eyes however shine brightly with relief and warmth.

“I thought I’d lost you…” he pants and carefully moves his hand to cup your face. You clear your throat but it doesn’t help much with harshness you feel in it.  

“How long was I asleep?” you mutter, your voice coarse.

“Ten days.”

“What did I miss?”

“Nothing. Only hobbits’ antics around Gondor, and an engagement between Éowyn and Faramir.”

“You have not-?”

“No, the coronation was delayed.”

“Why? Were you hurt?” you feel a wave of panic running through you and you make to rise in the bed but your body protests with a jolt of gut-wrenching pain.

You hiss and Aragorn lays a hand on your middle to keep you in place.

“Don’t move, it’s barely healed. Few more days and I’ll let you try to stand up.”

“You will let me?” you quirk an eyebrow and force your lips to smirk. Aragorn cackles airily and strokes your cheek with his thumb.

“I’m your healer, you should listen to me, Y/N.”

“Can I have some water? My throat feels as if it’s full of dirt.”

“Of course,” Aragorn takes his hands off of you and reaches to a stand, taking a glass of water from there and  carefully bringing it  to your lips. You sip a bit, deciding that it is, by far, the best drink you have ever had.

Aragorn keeps his eyes on you, ready to act by whatever you’d ask him to. Debating with yourself whether you should bring up a thing that, most likely, was your dream, you grimace.

“Are you in pain?” he asks, his voice hinted with fear and concern and you shake your head.

“No, I… was Sam here while I was not conscious?”

“Yes, he did visit you. Do you remember it?”

“It appears so. Gandalf was here, too?”

“He was, yes.”

“And Legolas?”

“Yes,” Aragorn nods his head, his brows knitting over his nose as a realization dawns on him.

“Why did he call you a fool?”

“Because I am one. Legolas was only honest with me. As well as Gandalf. I should’ve said it sooner, Y/N, maybe you wouldn’t be so stupidly brave.”

“Oh, now I’m a fool, too?” you tease, curling your lips into a smile and Aragorn grimaces, closing his eyes for a moment.

“That’s not what I meant to say.”

“Then say what you mean,” you encourage, reaching for his hand and taking it in yours, and Aragorn inhales deeply before he whispers,

“I love you, Y/N. I have loved you since I laid my eyes on you, a long time ago, yet I was a coward. I feared you’d reject me. I feared you’d be scared of my heritage. And yet, you promptly agreed to join the Fellowship and share that hardship with me.”

“I couldn’t let you go, Aragorn. I thought I’d build up courage to confess my feelings but I only learnt that I was not as bold as I believed.”

“Do you-?”

“I love you, you fool. You think that why I faced that monster before it could get to you?”

“Never do that again,” he breaths out, leaning in to rub his nose against yours and you close your eyes to savor every second of that moment.

“Promise me, Y/N, to never try and save my life again, do you hear me?”

“I promise, I promise. Now, kiss me before I pass out.”

[idiotgangleader]

Chance Meeting in the Garden Part 3

Fandom: Assassin’s Creed Syndicate

Pairing: JAcob Frye x Reader

Genre: Romance/Humor

Warnings: Hangovers

Word Count: 2,717

Synopsis: Jacob takes reader to the bar cart on the train where she gets into a little trouble…

A huge smile was etched permanently on your face as you looked in the mirror at the outfit you were wearing. You couldn’t help but keep fidgeting and twirling around so that you could see every detail and angle. Never in your life had you loved a set of clothing so much. You had to admit, you did feel a little self conscious. It was nothing like you had every worn in your life,  but after today you were convinced that you would never wear anything else again; at least for the time being. Looking back you almost felt a little silly, you haven’t showed any excitement for clothing since you were a little girl. But it was the childlike giddiness that you were feeling that only intensified your happiness.

A deep chuckle from behind you interrupted your thoughts and you quickly turned around only to be met with Jacob leaning against the doorway with a smug look on his face.

“I take it the clothes are to your liking, my lady?” he teased playfully as he let out a few more chuckles.

A few months ago, him teasing you like this would have embarrassed you and made you nervous, but you had grown much more comfortable around him and have gotten all but immune to his teasing. Or so you would like to think.

“It’s perfect! Thank you so much, Jacob!”

Without giving him any warning, you quickly ran up to him and pulled him into a tight embrace. He let out a quiet ‘oof’ at the contact but quickly returned the hug and pressed a soft kiss to your hair.

“Glad I could be of assistance.” He chuckled as he ran his fingers through your hair.

Part of you still couldn’t believe this was real. When Jacob promised you your own life and the freedom that you were desperately wishing for, you didn’t fully believe that it was possible. Yet here you were, learning step by step just what it meant to live free of societal standards.

“I still can’t believe how comfortable they are. I can move so easily!” You yelled happily before pulling back away from him and taking a few more twirls around, relishing in the freedom that you now had. Never in your life had your legs had this much mobility.

“Yes, I have to say trousers suit you quite well.”

You could tell he was amused by the way you were acting, but you didn’t care. You were just so relieved to finally have a taste of what it felt like to not have to live up to a set of expectations every single day. You were breaking every single rule that you were brought up against, and you loved every second of it. Just the simple act of wearing trousers would have been enough to get your knuckles cracked by your governess, but now it felt so natural. And you were intent on never wearing a heavy frilly dress ever again.   Looking back over to him, you flashed him a smile walking back over and giving him another hug.

“Thank you, Jacob. For everything.”

You don’t think he knew just how much you meant those words. In many ways, he saved you from being doomed to a life of submission and constant perfection. You were your own woman now, though you didn’t mind also being Jacob’s woman. You heard him sigh contently before you felt his arms wrap around your frame once again. Instinctively, you relaxed against his chest and just enjoyed the feeling of being in his arms.

“I should be the one thanking you, (Y/N). You’re the one that left everything for me. Truly, I am eternally grateful to you.”

You could only smile at his words before pulling back slightly and tilting your head up so that you could press a kiss to his jaw. These past months that you’ve spent with him have been the happiest you’ve ever been in your life. It took a little while getting used to, living on a train of all places with Jacob and a bunch of his Rooks, as well as his sister, Evie. Jacob had told you a long time ago that he had a twin sister but you were nothing but surprised when you first met her. The two of you kicked off great from the beginning. She was so welcoming and helped you adjust to your new life. She even thanked you for keeping her brother in line. In truth, you enjoyed her company quite a lot and even looked up to her. You found her to be inspiring, a woman around your age refusing to live by the laws of society and choosing to live as she see fit, to you it was truly admirable.

“So what’s on the agenda today, Jacob?” you asked eagerly.

He looked up for a moment as if contemplating something before looking back down at you with a smile on his face.

“Today I figured we would take a little trip to one of the more lively gambling dens in Whitechapel tonight. Tell me, how are you at Wist?”

Gambling dens? That had always been something that your parents always spoke poorly of. It was an activity that only the lower classes and the untrustworthy entertained themselves with. But what did you care? You were no longer a member of high society so what objections could you possibly have?

“Don’t listen to him, (Y/N)!” a voice came from the next cart over.

Evie opened the door to the cart and stepped in before playfully nudging her brother.

“I take it he never told you about what happened the last time he played Wist in a gambling den?” She smirked before leaning against the wall.

At the mention of this, Jacob’s expression seemed to turn worried and he looked down at the ground nervously before looking at you as if trying to say “I can explain”. However, you were very interested.

“No, Evie. I haven’t heard this story.” You said sweetly as you leaned against the wall next to her, eager to hear the tale. This seemed to only add to the devious smirk that was currently sitting on Evie’s face.

“Well, he lost. And instead of paying up, he made it so that both them and their carriage both ended up in the river.”

You looked at Jacob with a horrified look on your face. Surely, he didn’t kill a bunch of people simply for beating him in a card game. After a moment, he nervously put his hands up.

“It was a shallow river, I swear! And they all lived.” He assured you, his face an embarrassing shade of red.

When you heard that, you couldn’t help but chuckle. That sounded much more like Jacob.

“Well then, perhaps it’s not a good idea to let you anywhere near a gambling den.” You said sweetly before standing on your toes to peck his cheek.

Jacob let out a disappointed whine before turning his head to kiss your lips. You were only more than happy to kiss him back. After a moment, you heard Evie clear her throat behind you, causing you to pull away and blush in embarrassment.

“Perhaps you two could just go over to the bar cart. I don’t think (Y/N) has seen it yet.” She said smugly before turning around to return to her own cart. You were about to call after her to ask for more stories but Jacob gently grabbed your jaw and turned you around for another kiss. This kiss was more intense than the ones you had previously shared, surely you had noticed that recently his kisses were becoming more and more passionate, not that you were complaining.

After a moment, you pulled away and looked at him with an excited look on your face. As content as you were to spend the whole day with him here, you wanted to check out the bar cart. Up until now you had only visited pubs with Jacob, you haven’t seen the bar on the train yet. Whenever you and your family traveled by train, the bar cart was always absolutely forbidden to you. Your father had always told you that the bar carts on trains were frequented by no one but scoundrels, bums, and criminals. And after spending all this time with Jacob and the crowd he frequented, the latter may not have been very far from the truth.

“Can we, please? I want to see what an actual bar cart looks like.” You asked eagerly, making sure to throw in a playful bat of your eyelashes and a gentle smile for added effect, knowing it would get the desired reaction out of him.

Sure enough, he smirked before sighing in amusement and kissing the tip of your nose.

“Yes darling, I’ll take you to see the bar cart.” He replied with false annoyance as if he was talking to a small child. If he would have said something like that a few months ago, you would’ve gotten angry at him. However, you had grown used to and even come to enjoy his sense of humor. And you knew he didn’t mean anything malicious by it anyway.

You giggled with excitement at his answer and smiled even wider when he offered you his arm like the gentleman he was. Well, like the gentleman he occasionally was. Arm in arm, he lead you out of his cart and continued down the train for a few more carts until you came to a cart that was filled with Rooks and smelled putridly of sweat and liquor. It smelled just like a pub, except in a much more confined space. It was almost overwhelming.

One Rook ran the bar while the rest occupied themselves with merrymaking and card games, though every single one of them looked as if they had had at least a few pints. You had drank some alcohol during your time with Jacob, but you were always careful to not drink to much. Whenever you started feeling a little dizzy, you knew that you had had enough and Jacob more than understood. However, this time you were feeling a little more adventurous.

“I understand if you want to go somewhere else.” Jacob whispered to you as he pulled you slightly closer to him.

You merely patted his arm and smiled up at him before leaning up to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Actually I was just thinking about what drink to order.” You replied cheekily.

Your answered seemed to have surprised him. He raised an eyebrow at you before studying your face carefully for a moment and then finally letting out a small smile. After a nod of his head, he walked over with you to the bar and pulled out a stool for you before sitting down next to you and ordering himself a pint. You ordered yourself one as well and continued looking around the cart at all the Rooks when something got your attention.

“Oi! It’s da’ lass dat Jacob’s always goin’ on abou’!”

You turned your head quickly to see a bunch of Rooks at a table in the middle of the cart holding sets of cards and waving at you. You smiled politely before waving back at them.

“I say boss, you really scored big wit’ ‘er!” Another one called causing you to blush madly and Jacob to shoot him a threatening glare. The

The room full of Rooks erupted into laughter as you tried to hide the blush on your cheeks. However, another call form one of the female Rooks captured you from your thoughts.

“Why don’tcha play a few rounds wit’ us!”

Play a few rounds with them? Part of you wanted to decline, you hadn’t played cards with anyone but Jacob and Evie yet, and while these were gangsters that were on your side, they were still gangsters and you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself. However, a bigger part of you was still feeling adventurous and wanted to experience it for yourself. You nodded and hopped out of your stool before pulling up a chair at their table.

After explaining the game to you and dealing you out a set of cards, the game began. It was a simple game of poker, except that instead of playing with chips the Rooks bet with drinks as well as money. Whoever had the lowest hand had to take a swig and whoever could hold down their liquor the best would win the pot of money at the end of the game. You started out very well, with a few good hands and only having to take a few swigs. But soon, you felt yourself getting dizzy.

You tried to hide it as best as you could, but you were determined to prove yourself. However, after one bad hand, you were forced to take yet another swig and then knew no more…

When you woke up, you were lying on the couch with a blanket over you. Your head was killing you and your stomach felt like it never wanted to see food again. As you tried to remember what happened the night before, your head started hurting even more and your stomach started churning. Quickly, you looked for something that you could empty your stomach in. Thankfully, there was a waste basket right next to the couch so you didn’t vomit all over the floor. As whatever you had last night came up, a gentle hand began rubbing your back.

“How are you feeling, love?” Jacob asked softly as if he knew that your brain couldn’t tolerate anything loud right now. It took you a few moments before you were able to answer him.

“What…? What happened last night..?” you finally managed to get out before Jacob handed you a glass of water to rinse out your mouth.

He continued rubbing your back as he allowed you to lean against him; giving you a moment to compose yourself before he answered you.

“Well…let’s just say that the lads have accepted you as one of their own.” He said simply before slowly scooping you up and placing you back on the couch.

You tried to remember anything that happened last night but whenever you tried, it only made your head hurt more. Finally, a piece came back to your memory.

“Did I…did I lose the game?” you asked carefully, almost not wanting to know the answer.

Surprisingly, Jacob began chuckling to himself and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before pouring you another glass of water from the pitcher on the bedside table.

“Actually love, you won. But you insisted on going for another round, and on that game you lost.” He explained before placing the glass on the table for when you would no doubtly need it eventually.

“I…what?” you asked confused. You should have really been horrified at yourself at not only getting drunk, but getting so drunk that you were this sick the next day. However, the pain in your head and your stomach made you really indifferent to anything else at the moment. You were sure you would find out what happened from Evie or one of the other Rooks at some point within the next few days.

He looked at you lovingly before stroking your hair and leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“Try not to think right now, darling. Believe me, it will only make it worse. For now, just get some rest.” He whispered before pulling the blanket back over you and standing back up to which you quickly grabbed his hand.

“Stay?” you whispered, not really wanting to be alone.

He looked at you for a moment before nodding and slinging on the couch with you. His face was expressionless and you were about to ask him what was wrong until he reached over to a drawer on his bedside table and pulled out a Rook jacket.

“May I?”

You smiled widely as he spread the jacket out over the blanket that covered you. You rested your head on his chest and closed your eyes before you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head.

“Welcome to the Rooks.”

AN: Sorry this took so long! I was really busy with finals and work but I finally got it up. Requests are still open :)

[backtothestart02]

Running in the Sun - 1/?

A/N: I hesitate to even post this in full here, b/c I know none of you will read it, but I do it w/ all my fics, so I figure I may as well do it here.

An AU fic for the Host (movie/book) fandom that I started over a year ago. I’d love it immensely if some of you would r&r, but if you’re just antsy for westallen fics, those should hopefully be just around the corner as well. :)

Chapter 1 - Lakeland Valley

The sun rose over the top of the hills in the distance, warming the little down and sending glitter sparkling across the lake. It was early summer and the citizens of Lakeland Valley had yet to rise from their beds. As in decades gone by, their work remained fairly steady and simple. There were carpenters, farmers, butchers and blacksmiths. There were teachers and a mayor, along with the small cluster of mailmen and the aging afternoon fishermen. In a world of electronics, where the newest phone, the biggest gadget, a million apps on every size mobile device you could imagine were seemingly the focal point for every human being, this place was still ruled by manual labor. In its simplicity, it thrived and spread magic to anyone who came to it, especially in the summer when true to its name, the lake brought easy joy not easily obtained at any tropical island or expensive resort.

It was also, it seemed, the place where the highly successful Mister and Misses Stryder, originally hailing from upscale New York City, had chosen to send their daughter, Melanie, for the summer. Melanie was smart, beautiful, and resilient in the face of her high school study abroad program shipping her off to London for half the school year. When she returned to New York, she’d looked so weary that her parents had made the almost instantaneous decision of taking a long vacation to a place that had no sign of anything fast-paced or of the modern age. That place, they decided, was to stay with Uncle Jeb and his sister Maggie in the small, simple town of Lakeland Valley, Louisiana.

Jebediah and Magnolia Stryder were an odd pair. Not every pair of siblings into their early sixties and beyond lived together, but they didn’t seem to mind the occasional stare from the townspeople, or the fact that tongues would wag when they spread so much as the hint of a conspiracy theory. People brushed it off as a hobby because Jebediah brought in the best wheat in three counties and Magnolia produced clothing for women that was the envy of every seamstress around. Which maybe wasn’t saying much since the twosome had lived in that small town most of their lives.

The gossip in Lakeland Valley was that Jeb and Magnolia had one other brother, Bartholomew; who lived in St. Louis, Missouri. Bartholomew rarely visited, though he had a son and daughter-in-law, Trevor and Linda, who occasionally showed up for a family vacation with their children, Melanie and James. The children were doted upon, though they had been seen less and less lately with the city life keeping them busy year-round. This year, it seemed though, the speeding lifestyle had gotten the best of Melanie Stryder, and she had come to reside with her Uncle Jeb and Aunt Maggie for the summer.

She saw Jeb first when she stepped off the train. There was no airport in Lakeland Valley and no bus either, but the train station had been built into the town when it was first founded and managed to connect to the bigger stations in all the surrounding towns and cities.

“Hello, Melanie,” he said, smiling at her and taking her suitcase right out of her hand. “You look worn out.”

She half laughed-half sighed. “Hey, Uncle Jeb.” She weakly smiled because she couldn’t manage a hug with their hands full. “Thanks for meeting me. And yeah, I certainly feel that way.”

“Well, don’t worry. Your Aunt Maggie is making you a home cooked meal as we speak. Then I’ll put up a fire in the pit in the back and all you’ll have to do is sit back and stare at the stars. I can guarantee you those are hard to spot back in the city.”

The weak smile remained intact, though there was some regret in it now.

“Actually, I was hoping I could just go to bed after dinner. I’m exhausted.”

“Oh, sure.” He nodded, almost as if he’d been expecting it. “Stars will still be out tomorrow,” he said, and winked at her. She felt her guilt lessen and they slipped into easy conversation till they made their way to the old farmhouse on the edge of town.

……………

 Melanie woke the next morning to the sound of hammer pounding on nail outside her window. She opened one eye and winced as the sun streamed directly into it. She groaned and turned the other way on her bed, but it was no use. The pounding was getting closer, and so louder. There was no way she was going to close the window either. As she’d quickly learned when she arrived, it was much hotter in the house than it was outside, and Jeb and Maggie did not believe in air conditioning.

Still, the pounding was a mystery. She had noticed all the repairs that needed to be done when she first eyed the house before going in. Jeb had said nothing of fixing them though and neither had Maggie. Melanie figured they would have if they had planned on construction on the old house over the summer; especially if it would be done in the early morning right by her window before she was likely awake.

Melanie tossed the blankets off, straightened the tank top and shorts she’d gone to bed in and headed straight for the window, determined to give a piece of her mind to anyone who felt the need to make such a racket this early in the morning. Unless it was her family.

The pounding stopped right before she got there and she stopped too for a second, as if connected by whatever was disturbing her. Then she started moving again before the noise could interrupt her from the scolding she very much planned to deliver. She put her hands on the window sill and ducked her head out, looking both directions. She saw a ladder propped against the roof but there was no one in sight except Jeb, visible at a distance, out in the field along with a few other people she imagined assisted him in the task.

She pulled her head back inside and waited, expecting the noise to suspiciously start up again, but it didn’t. She heard a clatter coming from downstairs, though.

Maggie. With breakfast, she thought.

Knowing she was unlikely to get any more sleep in a room that was quickly sweating her skin with humidity from the thick air and scorching sun, she decided to go downstairs where at least there would be ice water at the kitchen table.

The stairs squeaked beneath her as she went down to the lower level. She half-expected Maggie to welcome her before she walked through the doorway. Probably a clipped hello and nothing more, because Aunt Maggie was not the real cheerful type. Just observant, cautious, and a good cook. But there was no such welcoming.

When Melanie walked into the kitchen, it was not her Aunt Maggie she saw or Uncle Jeb. It was a man, a young man from what she could tell. His back was drenched with sweat through the white tank he wore and his dark sandy blonde hair was soaked in it. He was well-contoured from his shoulders to his feet, her lusting female hormones did not hesitate to inform her. But what he was doing in this kitchen still remained a mystery.

Then, most unexpectedly, he turned on the sink where he was standing, rinsing off his dishes and lowered his mouth to the faucet.

“Hey!” Melanie cried out before his mouth touched the gleaming metal.

He stopped, turned around slowly and looked at her. She had to force herself to focus on the atrocity of what he was about to do and not how absolutely gorgeous his eyes were, even from this distance.

“You can’t do that,” she said.

He smiled and her hormones started raging again. She almost said stop it out loud just to calm the butterflies down.

“Yeah? Says who?” he asked, turning the faucet off and then leaning against the counter, hands braced on the edge to give her his full attention.

“Everything that is righteous and holy,” she informed him, eyes widening. He looked so amused now that it was no longer hard to focus on her argument, no matter how hot he looked standing there in her aunt and uncle’s kitchen. “Who are you anyway?” she demanded.

His grin widened. “I’m the reason you’re probably down here right now,” he said and her jaw dropped.

“You’re the hammer and nail outside my window?” she asked, aghast, though she’d suspected as much when she walked into the room.

He said nothing, but returned to the table where an empty glass stood beside a half-full pitcher of ice-cold water. He poured himself some and drank out of the glass then sighed loudly as it rushed through his body, cooling him.

“Good old Jebediah told me his niece was coming to stay with him for the summer.” He started coming towards her and stopped when he was about a foot and a half away. “I have to say though, I wasn’t expecting you.”

She frowned. “What were you expecting?”

He grinned wide. “Not someone this feisty.” He brushed past her, leaving some of his sweat on her arm, though he could have easily avoided it. “Definitely a city girl.”

She turned around and followed him till he was almost out the front door.

“How long are you here for? A few hours?” she asked, a little too forcefully. She didn’t know why.

He opened the front door and turned to look at her. He eyed her open hand, grabbed and wrapped it around the now empty glass. She looked down at it and frowned, then looked back up at him.

“All summer long, Melanie.” He winked at her, then went out into the sunlight, leaving her alone with his empty glass, her jaw-dropping expression, and the butterflies in full flutter in her stomach.

It was going to be a long summer.

*Also available on AO3 and FFnet.

[ruwithmeguys]

A little One-Shot

Ok... I hate hiatus's but they’re also perfect for inspiring and fic writing.

Now this is just an indulgent piece of fluff I had too much fun writing but, alas, I only wrote it in 20 mins (I was inspired) because I don’t have a lot of time to spare so if it feels crude or just plain wrong, then I do apologise.

This is for @callistawolf who wanted some new pieces and I thought I’d get the ball rolling, for @hopedreamlovepray who made me fall in love with one-shots and a thank you to @n4r4nch4 who literally cheers me on, even when I feel like I’m undeserving.

I love this fandom!

So I don’t think this will happen in the show but... (If you guys like it, I’ll put it on AO3 later)

.....

Happy.

It’s what she’d hoped for him, them. Eventually. But in all honesty; she’d had trouble believing it could happen... till a couple of weeks ago that is.

Now they were here, on Lian Yu.

Everything that shouldn’t have happened, happened, and everything they didn’t expect to did as well: the good and the bad.

Black Siren was gone. She truly was the exact opposite of the Laurel they’d known. She’d disappeared, injured as she was, during Oliver’s fight with Slade and none of them had the heart – nor the energy – to search for her.

But they would.

Later.

Adrian was gone. Dead... but Oliver hadn’t killed him. Thankfully he’d walked an unexpected path.

Oliver. Eyes closing, listening to the sound of the waves at her feet, Felicity remembered...

“Come on Oliver; it’s simple. Look.” Hand fisted in Felicity’s hair, he yanked backwards until her throat was exposed - her body pressed to his front - and held one of his daggers beneath her throat. “I’ll make it easy for you.” His eyes unblinkingly on Oliver’s, Adrian stressed each and every word. “If you don’t kill me - if you don’t shoot an Arrow into my neck - I will kill the woman you’ve been pretending not to love.”

It took an age for a response to come.

Without a weapon, he’d stood there – Oliver – as he’d entered the clearing, the place Adrian had hunted Felicity to until she couldn’t keep running anymore, and hadn’t said a word.

He’d just looked at her, seeing her determination, her exhaustion. Her fear.

Her love.

Her resolve. “Don’t.” She forced through her clenched teeth. “Not for me.”

Not anymore.

He couldn’t now. Not after everything. Not even for her.

And he knew that, she could see it. This couldn’t be like the Count. This wouldn’t be him instinctively obeying the mindset of the man who’d used killing as a defence mechanism for survival - a mechanism to protect - for over five years.

This... what had to happen, would be the turning point of his life.

And she was fine with that. “It’s ok.” She whispered; her voice scratchy from lack of water as she watched him watch her. “I’ll be fine.”

“No.” Adrian promised - a smile in his voice - the knife pressing into her neck. “She won’t.”

He was right. He’d kill her. Just to spite Oliver. If Oliver refused to kill him, Adrian would kill her as punishment. And the Oliver Queen she’d started to see again for the first time in 14 months, the Oliver Queen she’d made love to on his birthday - a present full of sex had been due for a while and was, let’s face it, part and parcel for the course between them - where he’d shown her in an explicit and detailed physical exploration with his hands - oh those fingers, she’d missed those fingers - his mouth - the perfect mix of firm and supple softness: pillow mountains - his tongue - this isn’t helping - and his words-

His words.

I’m so sorry I destroyed us.

You made me happy. I haven’t felt that since I took it away.

I didn’t know how to accept that I was worth being loved, that I could be loved by... by you. By Felicity Smoak.

I love you. I never stopped. It never went away, never altered...

I missed you.

Oh, I love it when you do that.

You feel good. Familiar. Yet... different too.

But... still good? (she’d had to ask, to be sure that still wanted her like she wanted him)

No. (And he’d smiled - of course he had - his nose brushing down hers, his fingers trailing warmth and desire over the uncovered skin of her cheeks, her throat, her shoulders and further down...) Better.

Thank you for my birthday...

That Oliver Queen who’d shone through so brightly, he’d disappear. For good this time. Dig wouldn’t be able to pull him out of it; there would be no one to show him his light.

Then he’d kill Adrian.

And after, he’d kill himself. Next to her. Just to be sure she’d be the first thing he’d see when he opened his eyes once more.

If she died here.

Yet still... it was the right choice to make. A choice where there wasn’t really a choice to make.

Oliver knew it, his eyes told her they did, the soft stance of his body told her they did...

Oliver.

If it had to end, if this was how it was supposed to go; she didn’t regret a thing. She’d loved... and had been loved in a way a lot of people can only imagine. She’d found herself inside him, her everything, her forever and her always...

So she smiled at him; it a was watery thing but large enough to see, to show the sheer happiness he’d brought to her, the love she’d felt grow somehow deeper in the two days since they’d slept together. It told him everything he needed to hear without saying anything at all.

And everything that he was, reflected all of that back at her.

How eyes could be so bright and expressive, she didn’t know but his always could and right now they were etching his name into her soul, just like he was taking hers into his own.

“Alright.” He muttered and he didn’t stop looking at her. “Kill her.”

She felt Adrian jolt behind her but didn’t stop looking at her guy, didn’t stop smiling at him. God, I love you. “What?”

“Kill her.” Oliver softly repeated.

“And you’ll just live with that? I don’t think so Oliver.”

“I know you don’t.” Oliver’s hand shifted, a knife of his own sliding into his fingers from his sleeve. “It doesn’t matter because the moment you do, the moment you kill her... I’ll kill myself.” He let out a sigh, his smile falling but his expression was still deeply serene. Like he was seeing in her everything he wanted and was so content with the reality of it, that he wouldn’t be sorry if it ended here either. “And it’ll all be over.”

Still smiling, a tear rolled down her cheek and Oliver watched it fall like he wanted to halt its progress with a finger.

It wasn’t like they wanted to die. There was so much they both wanted from each other, with each other – things they’d spoken of in the quiet after she’d brought him home to rest inside her. But if it had to end here, if it had to be this way... then let it be like this.

Together.

After all, they always been really.

“That... that’s not how this works.”

And like she’d prayed for, Felicity heard the struggle in Adrian’s voice, the need to understand something his brain was incapable of processing.

For the first time Oliver looked away from her to him. “That’s the way it is. “And there was this light in his eyes that made something in her sing as he lifted the blade up to his own throat, preparing to draw a line across it. “I won’t kill you. You don’t deserve for me to kill you. And I don’t need to.”

THIS was Oliver Queen. This was the good she saw, had been seeing since Felicity Smoak? Hi, I’m Oliver Queen.

“You don’t think it’s sick, Adrian? That you need me like this?” Throughout it all, Oliver kept his voice low and steady. “You need me so badly that you want me to kill you? I’m so important to you...”

His dagger cut into her skin. “Shut up!”

“Why?” Oliver stared at him. “Does it hurt?”

“You don’t- you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Is it the truth?” Oliver whispered. “Confess. You can’t live without me and you can’t kill without me here.” He raised a hand to the world about them in general. “But I won’t kill you. So,” Oliver looked back to her, love and hope an Arrow in his gaze, “what happens next after I’m gone? What will you do?”

Genius.

Before anyone could have done anything though, Rene - having followed Oliver but had been unable to keep up with his sprint - had shot Adrian point blank from the side. He’d died in seconds.

“I made him a promise.” Was all he’d said.

After a moment’s silence, Oliver had moved prompting her to do the same, to obey the need inside her. It just so happened his was the same need as hers.

They’d collided in the middle, his arms tight around her lifting her high off the ground, hoarse words breathed into her skin - I’m here baby - she’d wrapped herself around him, holding him close, breathing him in too and promising to never ever let go.

Spiritually speaking.

Because then they had to deal with the fallout. With Slade, who had a personal grudge against the two of them, the day just wouldn’t end, with Black Siren who’d fled the scene, Boomerang who’d been a giant pain in everyone’s ass... and Evelyn who’d then been killed in action.

A. Very. Long. Day.

She released a breath, letting the wind make a mess of her hair and rustle the trees –the lapping of the oceans waves – lull her very tired body into a peaceful state of rest.

The she felt him behind her...

“I can feel you there,” she murmured, “I couldn’t before.” And she chose – I don’t care if I’m naive – to believe it was because of their connection and not their five year war instilling a new awareness inside her that made this so.

“I didn’t want to disturb you.”

She smiled, and if her voice was throaty - a purr really - well that was his fault. “Oliver, any disturbance by you is a welcome one.”

“Really.”

Not a question.

“Yep.”

“I don’t think the others would appreciate my idea of a disturbance with you.”

Her smile couldn’t get any wider.

His sex voice. Seriously, every time after sex... this voice. How do I live with myself, I just don’t know.

Turning to face him, she chirped. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He moved closer so that the sea was to his left and the jungle, his right. “You ok?”

She really was. He’d helped her there, earlier.

Probably looking profoundly love struck and foolish, she bobbed her head at him; wordless at the way the sun hit his face and lit up his hair. He really is blonde. “You?”

“It’s strange but... I think I am.” It came out in one long exhale. “For the first time in a really long time I don’t feel so... weighed down.”

Thank you God. “That’s a good thing Oliver.”

“It is.” And it was a thing with him, how his eyes on her own - like they could live forever staring into each other’s eyes and it still wouldn’t be enough for him - always left her without the air to make a sound. “You helped me get here.”

Uh, no.  She shook her head. “Oliver, I-”

“You did. I don’t how you do it,” he shook his head; still gazing at her, “but you do it anyway. I thought I wasn’t strong enough and you proved me wrong. I thought I didn’t deserve...” and he paused because whatever he was feeling looked overwhelming and he needed the moment to centre himself. “I thought I didn’t deserve you, that I could never earn you. So I stopped trying. Stopped trying to not be that person who would never be enough all those months ago, before Rene and Rory and Dinah joined the team.” He smiled and she felt it everywhere. “You gave me hope. You got me to believe,” he took a step closer and like a teenager her heart literally skipped a beat, “in my humanity again. I can never thank you for it.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” she really didn’t want that, didn’t want him feeling like he owed her that, “you never do. What you did here, what you’ve been trying to do for months... it’s proof of who you are. A good person; the best person I know.” My person.

But the look on his face – the smile in his voice – made her pause.

“I don’t want to thank you.” He whispered, making her blink, whiplash. “I want to spend the rest of my life showing you that you were right.”

Oh wow... “The rest of your life, huh?” And if her voice wobbled with restrained joy, if hers glittered just a tad, she really didn’t care.

He took a pause that felt like years before saying, “Can we start again?”

Er... “What?”

“I want to start over with you. From start to finish. I’m yours. Always have been.” Everything in her was turning into goo. “I want to marry you Felicity. I want to make a baby with you.”

He meant that. She could see it, the promise.

A baby...

A little over a year ago, she’d been too scared to consider the possibility. Though it made her happy, the idea of having Oliver’s child, it had also terrified her. Being in a chair hadn’t been the problem; it was the prospect of failing at being a good mother to any child they had that was.

But now?

How do you contain endless joy in a moment on a beach somewhere in the North China seas?

You don’t.

“I want to live with you.” He continued, watching the changes in her expression with awe and happiness and growing passion. “To fight monsters in the dark with you. The way it should have been. As my partner.”

He was right: the months between then and now, the distance, the chill between them... nothing had felt right, as if something had been perpetually off balance with the world.

But they’d needed it to get here. Sometimes, in order to rise you have to fall first.

Her smile - broken - revealed teeth, her hair stuck to her neck, her eyes described in detail what her lips couldn’t but could only whisper, “No more ‘should haves’.”

No more maybes.

His quiet laugh was choked. “No more.” Like he wanted to touch her, he took another half a step closer (if he moved in further he’d be practically on top of her and she didn’t mind one bit) “A new beginning... with you.”

“That sounds,” she took a breath because this, this was the moment; where forever starts and wouldn’t really end, “perfect.”

Their perfect. Dark times were inevitable, trials... but happiness was due too.

The boyish grin – the laugh still present on his lips – made her want to kiss him. And she would. Soon. But he had something else to say, she could tell.

And she was right. “Felicity Smoak.” He announced, in that soft, deeply masculine way of his that shot straight to her centre, married life is going to be awesome. “Hi.” She frowned when he lifted a hand, barely any room between them for him to do more than let it grace her stomach. “I’m Oliver Queen.”

She stared up at him... then pressed her lips together in understanding, feeling so much the rightness of what he was saying.

Lifting her hand to slide into his waiting fingers, her other tucked her hair behind her ears and affected nerves, shyness. “I know who you are.” Or at least tried to, but the deeper tone that left her was anything but and she knew he felt it in his bones when he licked his lips, when his abdomen jerked against her hand. “You’re Mr Queen.”

His hand tugged her closer, so that her chest touched his. “Mr Queen was my father. And I don’t think,” how his voice could lower any further she wasn’t sure, but it could and it did and ooh... “you’d look at him the way you’re looking at me.”

Oh boy. “How am I looking at you?”

“Like you love me.” Leaning in, the depth in his eyes had her falling into his hold. “Like you want me. Like you’re mine.” He quieted, his eyes looking at her mouth. “Like I’m yours.”

“That’s quite the description.” Accurate too. “So what’s your policy on kissing a stranger you just met on an island no one knows exists?” She teased.

“Oh, it’s my first policy.” Was his shameless, super fast response and a bark of laughter shot out of her, making her eyes close. “But only with you.”

How could she not kiss him with the utter love and feeling he gave her with every word he spoke?

“Come here.” Still laughing, her free hand slid up his throat, to the back of his neck to pull him close-

But he was already right there, smiling against her lips.

(And people, this is where I be cheesy and play ‘I need my girl’ by the Nationals because the song was made for Olicity – please listen to it here)

The feel of his scruff against her skin still made her tingle - she still felt the warmth of him down her sides, her stomach muscles contracting at the sure way his mouth opened hers - and still made her shiver in delight as her smile became a physical expression of everything she felt for him. Seeking, pressing, pushing, chasing his mouth with her own - re-leaning how he tastes, letting her tongue entwine with his - her hands were around his neck in seconds, cradling his head with them just the way he liked. Like she needed him closer and she was letting him know. The way his hands slid over her spine to press her as close – and as tight to him – as humanly possible. And when his fingers slipped into her locks to cup her head as he angled his own and- oh... I’ve missed this.

The kind of kiss that made her forget the world existed.

Her hands moved to drag across his scalp, one of them shifting down under his shirt and pressing into the musculature there, feeling every movement he made and the sound that left him wasn’t a groan or a growl. It was a sigh, one that came from deep in his chest...

She nipped as his upper lip, looking into his hooded eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you.” A firm kiss was followed by another. “I love you Felicity.”

She smiled again, her nose brushing over his, their breaths mingling-

“Oh my God, you weren’t kidding.”

It was also the kind of kiss to make her completely forget they had an audience. Her eyes didn’t open and she figured his didn’t either but she felt Oliver’s lips press together as he exhaled through his nose.

“I warned you.” John. He sounded unbelievably satisfied with himself. “But nope, you wanted to see for yourself. And here it is. The ugly truth.”

She felt Oliver’s chest vibrate and his lips twitch against hers. “He’s just like Tommy.” He muttered, too quietly to be heard by the others.

René just couldn’t accept it. “They’re like... romance novel bad.”

“I think its right.” She heard Dinah say, and she was officially Felicity’s new favourite person. “They should have done this months ago.”

“They should have had sex months ago.” René corrected and she felt the muscles in Oliver’s arm jump. “That amount of chemistry in the Foundry wasn’t healthy.”

She couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that sprang free from her, her head arching back as Oliver held her aloft. Okay, they’re all my favourites.

Oliver’s puff of air made her look back to him. “The children are being unruly.”

“Say what?”

Rene.

“Children?”

Dinah.

“...I’m oddly good with this.”

Rory.

“Are you two beautiful idiots done for the moment?” And Diggle once more; still sounding utterly superior. She’d let him have it. “It’s just, there’s a boat with our name on it, a wife the two of you are reminding me painfully of and a kid I really want to eat shakes with.”

Oliver’s eyes were so content...

She arched a brow. “Done?”

He shook his head. “We’re just getting started.”

...

Here’s to the rebirth of Olicity (and the horrid 4 week count down)

[ghcstlydj]

Rules for mobile users

[[here’s a google doc for the updated list of rules, applicable for all my blogs]]

anything under this cut is from my outdated rules.

[rules updated: 07/28/2019]

–STUFF YOU SHOULD DO–

• No godmodding. No sending (implied or explicit) homophobic/transphobic/bigoted messages to me or my character either.

• Please don’t over-pester me for replies. I promise I’ll get to them. Feel free to drop me a reminder after at least a week of no replies, though. In return, I usually give you a week too, unless otherwise specified in your own rules, until I remind you if it’s your turn to reply (or more often, I chicken out and trust that you’ll eventually respond/want to drop it and end up never bringing up that particular thread ever again). You’re always free to start multiple threads with me, that is greatly encouraged because I love having lots of threads with people.

• If you start getting bored with the roleplay, feel free to drop it and/or end it. We can always start up another thread in the future.

• However, please let me know if you want to drop a roleplay thread! It can give me major anxiety when I’m waiting for a response that’s never going to come, and I wonder if I did something wrong and assume that’s why you’re not replying anymore :’) I’m not forcing you to let me know if you want to drop a thread, you can drop it without saying anything too. But I personally really appreciate being told about that sort of thing.

• Don’t reblog a thread you’re not part of. This should go without being said, of course.

• If you can trim your threads, please do! It’s fine if you can’t, though, because I will most likely trim the thread for you. If you don’t trim threads with other people, however, I’ll be less likely to follow you since I don’t like scrolling through long posts.

• Please don’t claim any of my art as your own. I prefer if you don’t repost any of my art without asking me first. All of my icons are also created by me using my art.

• That being said, if you’re following me, please let me know if I’m doing something that’s making you uncomfortable or is breaking one of your rules!! I do read the rules pages of everyone, but I’m human and forget things, and I’m not a mind reader either ;~; I care, so please tell me if I’m doing anything bad

• You can reply to any of my open starters at any time! Even if they’re a year old! Even if other people have already replied to it! My open starters are open for a reason, and we don’t have to be mutuals for you to reply to them either :’)

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–STUFF YOU SHOULD KEEP IN MIND–

• I am of age to do smut rps, but I will not for this blog because Vinnie and his counterparts are all in closed relationships, and they are physically minors. There will occasionally be sex jokes, but that’s about it.

• I’m alright with roleplaying nsfw, minus smut. Gore, violence, and generally dark roleplays are cool with me. I love angsty things just as much as I love fluff ;w; Speaking of gore, you’re more than welcome to fight/harm/injure my muse to any extent! You don’t even have to ask! However, please read my headcanon post regarding pain and injuries, because my muses are ghosts and therefore work slightly differently when being injured than a regular living human.

• I prefer not to roleplay with personals, unless you are someone I know from school or something like that. Personals in general are allowed to follow me too! However! Personals are not allowed to reblog roleplays, in character posts, or ooc posts especially if I say in the tags that I’m going to delete the post later. Only things that are tagged with my “art tag” tags are okay to reblog. Headcanon posts are not okay to reblog unless I say otherwise.

• Like spamming is okay! I very occasionally lose roleplays, and getting lots of notes from likes are never a factor for that, for me personally. If I lose a roleplay, it’s mostly just because I forgot, so that’s really a “me” thing. I’m usually very good at keeping track of who I’m roleplaying with and how many ongoing threads I have, and I reply pretty consistently, so just remind me if I haven’t responded after five or more days (as stated in one of the above rules)! And I like it when people like my posts! It lets me know that you like my blog and the stuff I post, and it makes me happy :’)

• I’m pretty lenient with short replies. Don’t feel pressured to match the length if my reply gets long! Multi-para (usually 2-4 paragraphs) is my go-to for roleplays, so I usually do long replies by default.

• Adding onto that, I honestly don’t mind one-liners. Of course, in crack/online roleplays it’s fine but I’m okay with it in serious roleplays too. I prefer it if you don’t give me one-liners, but hey, as long as I’m still having fun with the roleplay anyway, it’s cool with me! I understand not being able to think of anything to write, so just as long as you don’t give me one or two words as your reply like ‘He smiled.’ or ’*laughs*’, I’ll be cool with it. Put at least some effort even if you’re only gonna give me one sentence, otherwise I’ll drop the rp once it becomes a repeat offense.

• I will not change the formatting of my roleplays to fit yours. I’m comfortable with sticking to only paragraph style roleplays for myself, thank you very much. It’s cool if you format, I think formatting can look nice sometimes. I will sometimes use icons, but I will not go all out with formatting my own posts with all that cool ‘small text’, and indents, and bolding and all that. The most I ever do with my formatting is italics for emphasis on certain words.

• I tend to move roleplays from asks onto its own post. If I send you an ask meme and you answer it, I’ll respond by making a new post, tagging you, and linking to your reply. Until formatting on asks are fixed, I will answer any asks sent to me in a new text post rather than asks.

• I accept any sort of asks! If they aren’t answered after a while, either I don’t know how to answer it or I might be drawing it out and I am a very slow artist- Sorry-

• Feel free to tag me in any of those tagging memes! I don’t mind and I think they’re pretty fun to do! ^^

• Adding onto the above rule, you’re more than welcome to send me those chain asks like “send this to 10 roleplayers you think are really great!” because it’s super duper nice that you would think to send one to me! But don’t expect me to send them to other people, because I won’t :’) my anxiety won’t let me, so I’m sorry-

• If I follow you, that means I’ve already read all of your rules. I have also read your About and Mun pages, if you have those as well. I might not send the codephrase, though, because most of the time I get anxious over having to send things like that. I’m very sorry–! But if I follow you, then chances are that I most likely have read them- If you choose not to trust me on this, I understand.

• I generally follow every rp blog that follows me, but I might not follow some people back for a few reasons. Some might be for the type of content you post on your blog, but I am still non-selective! I will roleplay with anyone who asks (unless you wanna rp gross things or you’re a mean person,,,, like your muse can be as much of a dick as you want, that’s no problem but don’t be gross to other people as yourself) and if I do roleplay with you, I will be more likely to follow you as well.

• Adding onto the above rule, however, please respect that it’s nothing personal if I ever unfollow you either! It’s not that I hate you or anything, but if you haven’t followed me back and you’re a private rp blog, or if we’re mutuals but never really roleplay, our muses just don’t click, you spam stuff that I don’t want to see on my dash, or you’ve become inactive for years and/or don’t interact with me anymore, there’s nothing wrong with that! We can still be friends but I prefer to have all the people I follow be potential rp partners. Feel free to follow me on my personal, Briightskies, if you still wanna keep in touch but not rp :’)

—

–ABOUT THIS BLOG–

• These are technically fandomless OCs, though they were integrated into the Hetalia world in a way (Vinnie’s boyfriend is Feli Vargas Jr. and Devon, Vincent, and Flint’s boyfriends are just Feli’s 1P, Opposite, and Opposite 1P counterparts respectively). That being said, I will most likely roleplay within the Undertale or Deltarune fandoms (yeah sorry, I’m not too into roleplaying in the Hetalia fandom lol, i’m just stealing the fandom’s AU concepts and running), but I am open to any muse, and other fandoms I am familiar with.

• I’ll also rp with fandoms I’m not into either, as long as you have a good about section for your character, which also indicates how you portray them (any headcanons or AUs you have that aren’t canon, or whether you portray them as canonly as possible, unless they’re OCs of course since a regular about page is a given) and I’ll probably look up other things about that fandom in its wiki if I don’t know what something is anyway.

• This blog is OC, multiverse, and crossover friendly! Multiple threads are also greatly encouraged, because I love having lots of threads with people!

• This blog is a single ship blog! All my muses already have boyfriends whom they all love very much and they do not want to get into relationships with other people

• I will tag common triggers and such, but don’t be afraid to tell me if you have something you want me to tag! I promise I’ll remember to tag it from then on. I do not have any known triggers myself. Any trigger warning tags will be written as “tw; ____” with a semi-colon, not a colon. If I feel like something should be tagged as a trigger but I’m not sure what to tag it exactly, I’ll just tag it as “tw” as a sort of catch-all tag.

Requested tagged triggers:

• tw; vore

• tw; age regression

• tw; jump scares

• tw; mental hospitals

• tw; spiders

• I will only talk through the IM system ooc. If you send me a message through there, I will not respond with ooc brackets ((these things)) because I will automatically assume you know that you are talking to the mun. I do not do roleplays on there.

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Thank you for reading this really long list of rules! It means a lot if you did!

There’s no password, because I’m also anxious with those for other people’s blogs as I said above. But if you would like to interact with me, you can shoot me an ask directed to one of my muses, or like these posts at any time (also feel free to re-like those posts so I can make another starter for you at any time!) for me to write you a starter with Vinnie, Devon, Vincent, or Flint!