#the last one is based off that ao3 fanfic

[zero-heather]

Originally it was HiMERU instead of Hokuto but i remembered his doctor looking scientist card thing and was like "perfect".

Edit: added one

[fully-caulked-wagon]

In our town, in our town,

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44225125/chapters/111213259 Guess who’s back on their bullshit and posting another zosan fanfic-

[kissoflightning]

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

(Updated November 22, 2024)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Color coding:

Recent - Updated within the past 3 months

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

Hiatus - Updated over 13 months ago/Leaving Fandom

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

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

[Example of my color system would be:

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

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

# - C

Tumblr: @8-rae-rae-8

AO3: emogoose

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

Tumblr: @aghostinmyownmachine @scribeofred @thewritinggrindstone

AO3: scribeOfRED

Tumblr: @alecthewreck AO3: AlecTheWreck

Tumblr: @andthekitchensinkao3 AO3: andthekitchensink

Tumblr: @angelgirl768 AO3: angelgirl768

Tumblr: @anonymousedward AO3: anonymousEDward

Tumblr: @autiacorart AO3: Autiacora

Tumblr: @archadianskies

AO3: Archaidian_Skies

Tumblr: @astrahannah AO3: AstraHannah

Tumblr: @average-mako-enjoyer

AO3: AverageMakoEnjoyer

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

Tumblr: @brokskar AO3: brokskar

Tumblr: @calamity-jc AO3: Calamity_JC

Tumblr: @chaos-thirium AO3: chaos_thirium

Tumblr: @connor-rk800 AO3: thespacebetweenstars

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

AO3: Connor sent by Cyberlife (Timebird84)

Tumblr: @connorboyyy AO3: hereforthegayy

Tumblr: @connorsjorts AO3: connorsjorts

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

Tumblr: @cryptidblossomd AO3: C0nt0l_cha0s

Tumblr: @changethecircumstances AO3: ChangeTheCircumstances

D-K

Tumblr: @detroitbecomeonline

AO3: TrinityOnline

Tumblr: @discodeviant AO3: DiscoDeviant

Tumblr: @einradi AO3: Einradi

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

Tumblr: @incomprehensible-phasmid AO3: IncomprehensiblePhasmid

Tumblr: @insignova AO3: Insignova

Tumblr: @fadedflame

AO3: FadedFlame

Tumblr: @fizzlefudge AO3: FizzleFudge

Tumblr: @fumikosushi AO3: FumikoSushi

Tumblr: @gauzyfruitcake AO3: beeayy

Tumblr: @gavinisqueer @listeningboy AO3: ListeningBoy

Tumblr: @gildedfrost-ao3 AO3: GildedFrost

Tumblr: @glxyqst AO3: GLXYQST

Tumblr: @hauntedoneao3 AO3: HauntedOne

Tumblr: @headfulloffantasy

AO3: HeadFullOfFantasy

Tumblr: @hemlockdumpling AO3: Hemlock_Dumpling

Tumblr: @hothotpot

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

Tumblr: @katlakitty AO3: katlakitty

Tumblr: @kamari2038 AO3: kamari2038

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

Tumblr: @kissoflightning AO3: KissOfLightning

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

L-N

Tumblr: @l1av AO3: L1av

Tumblr: @ladydrace

AO3: LadyDrace

Tumblr: @leelany-world AO3: Leelany

Tumblr: @lethotep

AO3: Lethotep

Tumblr: @lilaccadenza AO3: LilacCadenza

Tumblr: @littlehaize AO3: haize

Tumblr: @litoperezito (Webcomic) AO3: LitoPerezito

Tumblr: @lugiadepression

AO3: LugiaDepression

Tumblr: @mangabirdao3 AO3: Manga_bird Wattpad: Manga_bird

Tumblr: @mercilessflowchart AO3: Mercilessflowchart

Tumblr: @moonlitmilo AO3: MoonlitMilo

Tumblr: @mnictasbcl

AO3: mnictasbcl

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

Tumblr: @nartes

AO3: nartes

Tumblr: @negative-citadel AO3: Negative_Citadel

Tumblr: @nock-and-bolt

AO3: Nock_and_Bolt

Tumblr: @nothinggathers AO3: AtropaAzraelle (Polyoxyethylene)

O- S

Tumblr: @peachymilkshakes

AO3: peachienne

Tumblr: @peskellence AO3: peskellence

Tumblr: @r-ate-9

AO3: Kangarooney

Tumblr: @qrjung AO3 : qrjung

Tumblr: @ranunculus-bloom

AO3: Queerapika

Tumblr: @pseudonymmcwriter AO3: PseudonymMcWriter

Tumblr: @rking200

AO3: rking200 (Mawific)

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

Tumblr: @sevdrag

AO3: sevdrag (seventhe)

Tumblr: @shinyportalsandthings AO3: FancyPantsu

Tumblr: @simping-for-kamski AO3: TranscientNight

Tumblr: @sunwarmed-ash AO3: sunwarmed_ash

Tumblr: @sweeteatercat AO3: SweetEaterCat

Tumblr: @systemic-dreams AO3: systemic_dreams

T-Z

Tumblr: @temporary-enthusiasm AO3: TemporaryEnthusiasm

Tumblr: @the-ineffable-wanderer

AO3: KetchupOnToast

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

Tumblr: @titaniumpsychologist

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

Tumblr: @veilder AO3: Veilder

Tumblr: @wamblings AO3: ambling

Tumblr: @wyntereyez @wynterscribbles @wyntergamez AO3: wyntereyez

Tumblr: @yayen-chan AO3: yayenchan

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

[missfrustration]

to teach a captain - part 1 (luffy x reader 18+ fanfic)

summary: Luffy walks in on you touching yourself, and things quickly get out of hand.

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7

rating: 18+ explicit, minors do not interact!!

tags: pwp, nsfw, smut, sexual content, masturbation, cluelessness, luffy is a curious guy, reader is a member of the straw hat crew, post-time skip, second-hand embarrassment, no spoilers, no use of y/n

A/n: My first multi-part fic. I'm so glad people enjoyed it on ao3, so I'm posting it here! Enjoy!

words: 2.1k

----------------------------

Something gnawed at you all day today. It wasn’t until you were munching on the assorted fruit that Sanji prepared for the girls after breakfast that you realized the feeling. You watched your captain sit comfortably on the head of the Sunny, staring out into the open blue, when the very thought snapped into your mind. 

You haven’t touched yourself in a while, and it was well due for a session. 

Typically, you don’t pleasure yourself outside of your bath time due to the lack of privacy on the ship, but showers have been rushed since Sunny's recent island escapade that you havent had the time. Since then, the crew regained their idle hours, and man, the level of horniness told you things needed to happen now. 

You set your bowl of fruits beside the deck railing and quickly dart to the girls’ room. Typically, you would never imagine doing the deed here, but Nami and Robin were busy on the ship and typically would stay above deck all day. None of the boys dare go in the girls’ room for fear of Nami’s wrath, so you don’t need to worry about someone barging in.

You reach your dresser tucked in the corner of the girls’ room and search under all the mess of clothes. At the very bottom, you pull out a small purple dildo and some lube and plop down on your bed. You didn’t bother shutting the door all the way; from the way you were feeling, you knew it wouldn’t take long.

You spared yourself from any niceties to get yourself in the mood. You peel off your pants and underwear and leave your top on, instantly wrinkling the smooth sheets of the mattress. 

When the silicone head tapped your clit, you already felt sparks. You knew you needed relief. Now.

The silicone base was lubricated in seconds, and you revel in the way your pussy quickly molded to the length of your little helper. It didn’t take long to start pumping it in and out of you. 

You know your arousal wouldn’t let you last long, but showing your pleasure would make you cum faster. You threw one arm over your eyes and arched your head back. Your legs splayed on your sheets that shaped a lazy outline around your body. Your toes clutch at the rivets the sheets have made, you clench your fingers around your toy in the same way your palm clenches your breast, kneading and pumping and thrusting in all the right ways.

“Fuck yes.” You moan out, your hands grab at anything around you, from the loose strands of your hair to the loose shirt to the tangled sheets, before covering your face again. You arch into the mattress, opening up your legs more as you pound into you. 

You breathlessly pant, feeling your climax already brush up. 

Yes.

In and out, you pushed your toy, swallowing it down so well over and over until, finally, that tight coil started to stutter. God, you need it so badly now, those sloppy pumps to reach you there until you can no longer think about anything except your hand clawing right over your eyes, ready to muffle your screams over and over again. You’re so close now, so desperate to reach the line that your hips buck into your hand, biting your lip hard to impress into the skin forever, your light moans and whimpers are barely controllable as you start to climb.

Yes…

You wonder how much you’ll need to muffle your orgasm when that toy dick plunges into you just right, practically making you whimper.

You gasp when you feel it coming closer and closer and…

“Yes!”

“You left your fruit thingys.”

A voice from the doorway, so joyful that you know who said it before you looked up in horror. Luffy smiles, which quickly dissolves into confusion when he sees your face.

You immediately jump up and yelp, grabbing the blanket from your bed to cover your bare bottom, but it was too late; you know Luffy see everything in your legs and the things in between. 

“Hey, what’s that you’re doing?” Luffy asks, turning his head at you.

“Luffy?! What the fuck, dude, go away!” You scream at him.

“Huh? What did I do?”

“Luffy, holy shit, I’m not doing this with you—fucking leave!” You panic, grab the nearest thing, and throw it in Luffy’s vicinity.

It was your bottle of lube, which cracked open on impact and landed against the wall with a grimy splat!

He stepped back as a frown pillaged his face.

“Whatever, I’ll eat them myself!” He yells, darting down the hall. The sounds of fruit scarfing quickly start before fading away.

Your hand, once stuttered in the air from throwing your projectile, now slumps onto the sheets. Your entire body follows, until your head locks into the nearest pillow and you scream out all the embarassment trapped in the air. Your muffled screams last longer than you would’ve liked.

If Blackbeard himself walked up to you right now with a rhinestone encrusted pistol loaded to the brim and aimed at your forehead, you would’ve let him pull the trigger.

——

It wasn’t until a few hours later that the ship reached the next charted island.

“We’re here!” Nami’s voice rings through the ship, causing everyone to gather on the front deck.

“Alright, welcome to Tashini, home of entertainment! We are going to stock up here before heading out tomorrow night.”

“Suuper! I need to stock up Sunny on some more cola.” Frankly sings, grabbing a backpack about the size of his fist. It looks microscopic compared to his large back. 

“You said there were things worth looking at, right, Nami?” Zoro asks. 

“Yes! Tashini is known for its numerous entertainment districts and has killer drinks that pair best with the local food.” Nami winks, knowing how Zoro is.

“Hey, sounds good to me,” Zoro says, gathering his swords on his sheath.

Nami calls out your name. 

“You ready to go shopping?” She asks.

You freeze a little, looking around the ship for something to say. From what happened earlier, you feel like going out today would stress you out more. On top of that, the girls would notice something wrong and want to know all the details. On a whim, you clutch your stomach.

“Oh, ah, I’m not feeling good today. Mind if I stay back and look over the ship?” You stay, patting your skin down slightly. Nami tilts her head at you with slight surprise.

“Aw, really? That’s too bad,” Nami says, “Sure thing, we can shop another time.”

“I hope you don’t mind if Nami and I go alone.” Robin giggles.

“Not at all. You have fun without me, and I can join you girls next time. Keep your eyes peeled for anything I would like.” You smile, and the girls both agree.

That went better than planned, you think. Maybe this can help me relax from what happened a few hours ago.

You hear footsteps behind you until they suddenly stop a foot next to you.

“I feel sick, too!” Luffy said. “I need to stay on the ship.”

You froze, realizing the voice of your captain was right behind you, making you jump in surprise. It seems you’re not the only one to do that.

In fact, there have been a few times when the crew reacts in such surprise to Luffy, either widening their eyes or dropping their jaws in awe. In every case up to now, nothing could stop him from head-first cartwheeling to the newest island.

Sanji wacks him on the head.

“Huh?! There’s no way you are, Luffy; you were perfectly fine a minute ago! Jeez, you’ve been hanging out with Usopp too much.” Sanji groans. 

“Yeah!” Usopp says, “He’s been hanging out with me too—hey, wait a minute! What do you mean by that?!” Ussop practically steams out of his ears, being so bewildered about the most obvious thing. You all know Usopp loves to act sick anytime he detects a whiff of danger.

This causes the boys to argue about Usopp’s previous severe “diseases” that he’s managed to catch every time he senses danger. Still, you can’t forget the lingering gaze Luffy gives you in between, which makes you turn away in embarrassment. The last time he saw you was… then.

Sanji pipes up.

“Besides, I thought you wanted to try that world-famous fried squid that the town’s known for. You were yapping about it all day yesterday!” He says.

Luffy perks up, seeming to regain his previous exigency. “Oh, yeah. Never mind, let’s go!” Luffy says, now confidently strutting off the deck with no symptoms, ultimately confusing the whole crew. 

Sanji shrugs in defeat and sighs. “I’m not even going to ask,” he mutters. He joins the rest, getting off the Sunny.

“Do you need me to stay here and look at you?” Chopper asks you. He looks up at you with concerned eyes that melt your heart. You feel a tinge of guilt for lying and making him worry.

“Oh, it’s no problem, Chopper. I know you wanted to get more supplies for the sick deck. Just work your magic when you come back, okay?” You know how much he was looking forward to this. You definitely didn’t want to keep him behind.

“Alright, if you insist.” Chopper gleams, shaking from excitement. “Let’s go, guys!”

“Let’s meet at dusk, everybody. That’ll give each of us a few hours before we need to leave,” Nami calls, earning a hearty agreement in unison. 

You watch them slowly trek into the horizon, heading out in individual directions to start their journies. Your eyes lingered on Luffy, the outline of his shadow with hands looped behind his head and his chest held high. It looked like he didn’t have a care in the world until you lost his figure to the island's horizon.

—

You take in the quiet atmosphere of the Sunny in the absence of the rest of the crew. It was like night and day, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t like it. Total peace and quiet is a yearning you have now and then, especially after living with a bustling crew daily. 

About an hour after everyone left, you take this time to do some chores you’ve put on the back burner. After tidying up your space, you start a steady line of folding the girls' laundry. Even with Nami’s small clothes, the amount of baby tees and bikinis she has en masse is enough to fill up all of the lockers if they’re not compressedly folded. You’ve had to learn that from experience more than a few times.

If your little interaction with Luffy hadn’t happened earlier, you would’ve taken this time to beat off now. Unfortunately, the guilt and embarrassment from the whole situation turned you off. You vow to never again touch yourself outside of your regular scheduled shower and bath times. 

You sigh. What could you even say about this morning? Luffy is your captain, the one who asked you to join as his nakama in the first place, someone you’ve trusted with your life along with the other crewmates, and it wasn’t exactly ideal to have him walk in on you booty butt-naked. God, you could dissolve into the earth’s core from all the embarrassment! 

It was not your proudest moment, but knowing Luffy, there’s not much left to do except hope he’ll forget it and you two can put it behind you in no time. Knowing him, it’s the most likely scenario.

After the last few articles, you stretch your legs and walk up to the deck to ensure everything’s okay. You doubt anybody would raid the fearsome Strawhat ship, but you’ve been surprised quite a few times since joining the crew. 

You walk to the door, but it suddenly bursts open before you can reach the handle. The lightning-fast momentum of it almost wacks you in the face, causing you to scream and jump out of your skin. 

“Hey, I found you!” It was the voice of the man who swung that poor door open. 

The one you wanted to avoid this whole time.

“Luffy?!” You yell, “What are you doing here? I thought you were out with the others on Tashini?”

“I snuck back here when Sanji and Ussop weren’t looking,” Luffy smiled. “I wanted to talk to you.”

[cybernaght]

The fandom echo chamber: fanon, microanalysis and conspiracy brain 

As someone who has been in fandom spaces, on and off, for 20 years, I find some fascinating trends popping up in the last decade that I thought to be fandom-specific but clearly aren’t. So, I would like to do a little examination of where those things come from, how they are engaged with, and what it says about the way we consume media. This is a think piece, of sorts, with my brain being the main source. As such, we will spend some time down the memory lane of a fandom-focused millennial.

This is largely brought about by Good Omens. But it’s also not really about Good Omens at all.

Part one. Fanon.

The way we see characters in any story is always skewed by our very selves. This is a neutral statement, and it does not have a value judgement. It’s simply unavoidable. We recognise aspects of them, love aspects of them, and choose aspects of them to highlight based entirely on our own vision of the universe. 

Recognition comes into this. There is a reason so many protagonists of romance novels have a “blank slate” problem. Even when they do not, we love characters who are like us or versions of us that we would like to be. And when we say “we”, I also mean, “me”. 

(I remember very clearly this realisation hit me after a whole season of Doctor Who with writing which I hated utterly when I questioned why I still clung so incredibly hard to Clara Oswald as my favourite companion. Then I looked at myself in the mirror. Oh. Well. That would do it, wouldn’t it?)

Then, there is projection, and, again, this is a neutral statement. Projection exists, and it is completely normal and, dare I say it, valid way of engaging with — well, anything. Is the character queer? Trans? Neurodivergent? Are they in love? Do they like chocolate? Are they a cat person? Well, yes, if this is what the text says, but if the text does not say anything… You tell me. Please, do tell me. Because, in that moment of projection, they are yours. 

And then, there is fandom osmosis, and that is the most fascinating one of them all, the one that is not very easy to note while you are inside the echo chamber. It’s the way we collectively, consciously or not, make decisions on who or what the characters are, what their relationships are, and what happens to them.  

(Back when I was writing egregiously long Guardian recaps on this blog I actually asked if Shen Wei’s power being learning actually was stated anywhere in the canon of the show. Because I had no idea. I have read and reread dozen of fanfics where that is the case, and at some point through enough repetition, it became reality.)

We are all kind of making our own reality here, aren’t we? 

Back when things were happening in a much less centralised manner - in closed livejournal groups, and forums of all shapes and sizes - I don’t remember there being quite as much universally agreed upon fanon. Frankly, I don’t remember much of universally agreed upon anything. But now, everything is in one place: we have this, and we have AO3, and it’s wonderful, it really is so much easier to navigate, but it’s also one gigantic reality-shifting echo chamber, with blogs, reblogs, trends, and rituals. 

Accessibility plays its part, too. If you were, say, in Life on Mars (UK) fandom between seasons, and you wanted to post your speculation fic, you had to have had an account, and then find and gain access to one of the bigger groups (lifein1973 was my poison, but ymmv), and then, if you feel brave you may post it, but also, you may want to do so from your alt account if you wanted to keep yours separate, and then you would have to go through the whole process again. And I’m not saying that fan creations then were somehow inherently better for it than fan creations now (although Life on Mars Hiatus Era is perhaps a bad example - because some of the Speculation Fic there was breathtaking), but there is something to say about the ease of access that made the fandoms go through a big bang of sorts.

(I mean, come on, I can just come here and post this - and I am certain people will read it, and this blog is a pandemic cope baby about Chinese television for goodness sake.)

The canon transformations that happen in the fandom echo chamber truly are fascinating to witness as someone who is more or less a fandom butterfly. I get into something, float around for a bit, then get into something else and move on. I might come back eventually when the need arises, but I don’t sustain a hiatus mind-state. This means that when I float away and return, I find some very intriguing stuff.

Let’s actually look at Good Omens here. Season two aired, and I found it spectacular in its cosy and anguished way; deliberately and intelligently fanfic-y in its plot building; simple but subversive, and so very tender. (I will have to circle back to this eventually, because, truly, I love how deliberately it takes the tropes and shatters them - it’s glorious). And, to me - a person who read the book, watched the first season, hung around AO3 for a few weeks and moved on - absolutely on-point in terms of characterisation. 

So imagine my surprise when the fandom disagreed so vehemently that there are actual multi-tiered theories on how characters were not in possession of their senses. Nothing there, in my mind, ever contradicted any of the stated text, as it stood. This remained a strange little mystery until I did what I always do when I flutter close to an ongoing fandom.

I loaded AO3 and sorted the existing fic by popularity. And there it was, all there: the actual earth-shattering mutual devotion of the angel and the demon; willingness to Fall; openness and long heart-aching confession speeches. There was all of the fanon surrounding Aziraphale and Crowley, which, to me, read as out of character, and to one for whom they became the reality over the last four years, read as truth. 

Again, only neutral statements here. This is not a bad thing, and neither this is a good thing, this is just something that happens, after a while, especially when there are years for the fandom-born ideas to bounce around and stew. I can’t help but think that so much of what we see as real in spaces such as this one is a chimaera of the actual source and all the collective fan additions which had time and space to grow, change, develop, and inspire, reverberating over and over again, until the echoes fill the entirety of the space. 

Eventually, this chimaera becomes a reality. 

Part two. Microanalysis 

Here are my two suppositions on the matter:

1. Some writers really love breadcrumb storytelling. 

Russel T Davies, for instance, on his run of Doctor Who (and, if you are reading it much later - I do mean the original one), loved that technique for his seasonal arcs. What is a Bad Wolf? Who is Harold Saxon? Well, you can watch very very carefully, make a theory, and see it proven right or wrong by the end of the season. 

Naturally, mystery box writers are all about breadcrumb storytelling: your Losts and your Westworlds are all about giving you snippets to get your brain firing, almost challenging you to figure things out just ahead of the reveal. 

2. We, as humans, love breadcrumbs.

And why wouldn’t we? Breadcrumbs are delicious. They are, however, a seasoning, or a coating. They are not the meal. 

Too much metaphor?

Let’s unpack it and start from the beginning.

Pattern recognition colours every aspect of our lives, and it colours the way we view art to a great extent. I think we truly underestimate how much it’s influenced by our lived experiences.

If you are, broadly speaking, living somewhere in Western/North-Western Europe in the 14th century, and you see a painting in which there is a very very large figure surrounded by some smaller figures and holding really tiny figures, you may know absolutely nothing about who those figures are, but you know that the big figure is the Important One, and the small ones are Less Important Ones, and the tiny ones are In Their Care. You know where your reverence would lie, looking at this picture. And, I imagine, as someone living in the 14th century, you may be inspired to a sense of awe looking at this composition, because in the world you live in, this is how art works. 

If you, on the other hand, watch a piece of recorded media and see the eyes of two characters meet as the violins swell, you know what you are being told at that moment. You don’t have to have a film degree to feel a sort of way when you see a green-tinged pallet used, when cross-cuts use juxtaposing images, or notice where your focus is pulled in any given shot. This stuff - this recognition of patterns - has been trained into us by the simple fact that we live in this time, on this planet, and we have been doing so long enough to have engaged recorded media for a period of time. 

As humans, we notice things. Our brains flare up when they see something they recognise, and then we seek to find other similar details and form a bigger picture. This often happens unconsciously, but sometimes it does not. Sometimes we do it on purpose: finding breadcrumbs in stories is a little bit like solving a mystery. It allows us to stretch that brain muscle that puts two and two together. It makes us feel clever. 

So yes, we love breadcrumbs, and, frankly, quite a lot of storytelling takes advantage of this. It’s very useful for foreshadowing, creating thematic coherence, or introducing narrative parallels and complexity. It’s useful for nudging the viewer into one or the other emotional direction, or to cue them into what will happen in the next moment, or what exactly is the one important detail they should pay attention to.

Because this is something media does intentionally, and something we pick up both consciously and not, it is very hard to know when to stop. We don't really ever know when all of the breadcrumbs have been collected. It becomes very easy to get carried away. There is a very specific kind of pleasure in digging into content frame by frame, soundbite by soundbite, chasing that pleasure of finding. 

But it is almost never breadcrumbs all the way down. They are techniques to help us focus on the main event: the story. I truly believe those who make media want it to reach the widest possible audience, and that includes all of us who like to watch every single thing ever created with our Media Analysis Goggles on and those who are just here to enjoy the twists and turns of the story at the pace offered to them. And I think, sometimes in our chase to collect and understand every little clue we forget that media is not made to just cater for us.

One can call it missing a forest for the trees. But I would hate to mix my metaphors, so let’s call it missing a schnitzel for the breadcrumbs. 

Part three. The Conspiracy Brain. 

If you are there with me, in the midst of the excited frenzy, chasing after all those delicious breadcrumbs, then patterns can grow, merge together, and become all-encompassing theories. Let’s call them conspiracy theories, even though this is not what they truly are.

So, why do we believe in conspiracy theories?

One, Because We Have Been Lied To. 

All conspiracies start with distrust.

If you are in fandom spaces - especially if you are in fandom spaces which revolve around a queer fictional couple - especially-especially if you have been in such spaces for a period of time, you have most certainly been lied to at one point or another. 

We don’t even have to talk about Sherlock - and let’s not do that - but do you remember Merlin? Because I remember Merlin. Specifically, I remember the publicity surrounding the first season, with its weaponised usage of “bromance” and assertions that this whole thing is a love story of sorts, and then the daunting realisation that this was all a stunt, deliberately orchestrated to gather viewership. 

And, because we were lied to in such a deliberate manner for such an extensive period of time, I genuinely believe that it forever altered our pattern recognition habits, because what was this if not encouragement to read into things? Now we are trained to read between the lines or see little cries for help where they might not be. Because we were told, over and over again, that we should.

(Yes, I think we are all existing in these spaces coloured by the trauma of queer-bating. I am, however, looking forward to a world where I can unlearn all of that.)

Two, Cognitive Dissonance.

The chain reaction works a bit like this: the world is wrong - it can’t possibly be wrong by coincidence - this must be on purpose - someone is responsible for it.

Being Lied To is a preamble, but cognitive dissonance is where it all originates. In so many cross-fandom theories I have noticed a four-step process:

A) this is not good

B) this author could not have made a mistake 

C) this must be done on purpose

D) here is why 

(Funny thing is, I have been on the receiving end of the small conspiracy spiral, and it is a very interesting experience. Not relevant to this conversation is the fact that a lot of my job revolves around storytelling. What is relevant is that my hobbies also revolve around storytelling. And one of them is DnD. Now, imagine my genuine shock when one of the players I am currently writing a campaign for noticed a small detail that did not make a logical sense within the complexity of the world, and latched on to it as something clearly indicating some kind of a secret subplot. Their thinking process also went a bit like this: this detail is not a good piece of writing — this DM knows how to tell stories well — this is obviously there on purpose. It was not there on purpose. I created a clumsy shorthand. I erred, in that pesky manner humans tend to. And, seeing this entire thought process recited to me directly in the moment, I felt somewhere between flattered and mortified.)

This whole line of thinking, I think, exists on a knife’s edge between veneration and brutal criticism, relentlessly dissecting everything “wrong”, with a reverent “but this is deliberate” attached to it like a vice, because it is preferable to a simple conclusion that the author let you down, in one way or another. 

Three, Intentionality 

I believe that there is no right or wrong way of engaging with stories, regardless of their medium, and assuming no one gets hurt in the process. While in a strictly academic way, there is a “correct” way of reading (and reading into) media, we here are largely not academics but consumers; consumption is subjective.

However, this all changes when intentionality is ascribed. 

The one I find particularly fascinating is the intentionality of “making it bad on purpose” because, as open-minded as I intend to always be, this just does not happen.

It certainly does not happen in long-form media. Even in the bread-crumb mystery box-type long-form media. 

When television programs underdeliver, they also underperform, and then they get cancelled.

If all the elements of Westworld Season 4 that did not sit together in a completely satisfactory way were written deliberately as some sort of deconstruction for the final season to explore, then it failed because that final season will now never come.

(There will likely never be a Secret Fourth Episode.)

And look, I am not here to refute your theories. Creativity is fun, and theorising is fantastic. 

But, perhaps, when the line of thought ventures into the “bad on purpose” territory, it could be recognised for what it is: disappointment and optimism, attempting to coexist in a single space. And I relate to that, I do, and I am sorry that there is even a need for this line of thinking. It’s always so incredibly disappointing that a creator you believed to be devoid of flaws makes something that does not hit in the way you hoped it would. It’s pretty heartbreaking. 

Unfortunately, people make mistakes. We are all fallible that way. 

Four, Wildfire.

Then, when the crumbs are found, a theory is crafted, and intentionality is ascribed, all that needs to happen is for it to catch on. And hey, what better place for it than this massive hollow funnel that we exist in, where thoughts, ideas and interpretations reverberate so much they become inextricable from the source material in collective consciousness. 

Conspiracy theories create alternate realities, very much like we all do here. 

So where are we now?

I am not here to tell you what is right and what is wrong; what is true, and what is not. We are all entitled to engage with anything we wish, in whichever way we wish to do it. This is not it, at all. 

All I am saying is… listen.

Do you hear that echo? 

I do. 

[reds-skull]

Fanfic Recommendation: Multi-Chapter (Completed)

The comic I'm working on is taking... a long time (understatement of the year, been working on it since July 31st...) so I wanted to make another post like this

Like last time, there's no shared theme between these beside having multiple chapters and being completed (both SFW and NSFW)

As always please check the tags for CWs, and if a link doesn't work you're welcome to reach out!

Every Morning by sauceboss_yahoo - Ghost is back on base with the rest of the 141, ready to fall into his usual routine. Someone else, however, is itching to be a part of it and wants to peel back the curtain concealing him more than he already has, whether Ghost likes it or not.

Mask of my own face by Avidcatperson - Ghost takes great offence to the implication that he’s going to eat his cell mate, who is clearly sentient, with his bare hands. Soap is fairly sure he’s about to die. Chucked into a cell with a human? Pretty much a death sentence…hopefully Gaz can get out at least. [Space AU, multiple works in this series!]

bare my skin by Cristinuke - A study of moments as Ghost learns to trust Soap's touch.

Anomalous by Brigadier - Ghost, a SCP-056, finds a certain human worthy of his love, trust and adoration.

let these hills absolve me by flowersferns - When the news of three weeks’ forced leave reaches Ghost, he’s resigned himself to loneliness in an empty base. That is, until a certain Sergeant offers him an invitation he just can’t seem to refuse. Or: the sheep farming fic nobody asked for [this one hurts so bad but comforts so well]

Punch Drunk by Drolly - If you told Soap the second time he’d see Ghost’s face was in a shitty bar on a shittier block of Chicago… Well, he might have asked for a little more pomp and circumstance. At least then he’d have an excuse for the way he could hear his blood pumping faster in his ears and why he could feel it, hot and burning behind his eyes.

Simon's Gateway by wayfaredsoldier - When things get too rough on retired soldier Simon, his friends help him out and unknowingly provide him a gateway to something, or someone, beautiful. [veteran support hotline operator Soap]

A Bit Too Much by cod_dump - Soap always acts confidently, brave. Almost always has a smile on his face. But the fact is… He’s a bit too much. [locked for non-AO3 users]

Until The Nightfall by Mikhail - Upon realizing their friendship had grown into something deeper and more serious, Ghost is left torn between duty and longing. With each mission, Ghost is reminded of all the things he can't control, and it's becoming clear that this - whatever it is - he has with Soap, just might be one of them.

Philematology by ErlKönig (Herm_own_ninny) - Ghost kisses Soap while begrudgingly playing spin the bottle, and tries to repeat it with other party games.

stick up by amongthebooks - While off base, the 141 are unexpectedly caught up in a robbery. The raiders clock Soap, Gaz and Price as SAS operatives…but without his usual gear, Ghost was seen as just another guy. His team is rounded up, whilst he's treated as a civilian. Can Ghost take down the attackers and rescue his team without exposing his identity?

I Will by lemonwrap - After going missing on a mission, Soap has been gone for an entire year. Ghost finally rescues him, but he’s not quite the same.

The Worthy Vessel by MildLimerence - To take the edge off his maddening attraction to his aloof and inscrutable Lieutenant, Soap decides to try his luck with the local barflies off base. To prevent Soap from fucking anyone else but him, Ghost offers himself up under the guise of mutual stress relief. Soap thinks he’s just taking one for the team, but Ghost has just had everything he’s ever wanted fall right into his lap.

Damaged Goods by Red_Clegane - After an encounter at a club, Soap needs to know if he's actually into men… like into men. In a fit of desperation and homoerotic panic, he arranges a one night stand with a prostitute. It was just supposed to be a one off arrangement. But when Ghost shows up, it sets a series of events into motion that neither men could have predicted. [locked for non-AO3 users]

They Blame it on the Times by WildFlowerSolitude - "We were never anything. You need to get that through your head." Soap laughs hollowly into the empty corridor. I can live with that OR Ghost says some fucked up shit and Soap crumbles.

home is where the heart is by Anonymous - Soap vanishes from base one day. The Captain says its nothing to be concerned about. Ghost disagreed. [literally so so good]

Personal Affairs by sannikovs_bastard_son - Ghost got injured on a mission in Spain and was forced to take a temporary leave, leading to some buried feelings being brought to light, and Soap doesn't make his inner turmoil any easier by being the casual flirt he is.

Tug A Little Harder by puffyfish2006 - Ghost really really really likes Soap's long hair.

Burned and Broken, but Not Beaten by sick_of_sleep - Ghost ends up burning his hand pretty badly and Soap help his lieutenant while it heals. But Soap ends up helping Ghost in more ways than one.

Lofticries by Arodana - The mafia had always escaped John "Soap" MacTavish. No matter what evidence he found, it would disappear. For lack of words, it pissed him off. On top of that, he has to find a serial killer that has been evading the police and any efforts they've made for months. Soap finds himself stuck between his sense of justice when he is offered an opportunity to work with the one man that had been making his police career a living hell. Soap might just get what he wants.

Freely Given by Tatzelwurm - After the stress and danger of Los Almas and Chicago, Soap is finding it near impossible to let go and relax. He can’t sleep, jumping at shadows. Ghost wants to help him, dutiful lieutenant that he is. But Soap can’t bear to take any more from Ghost than he already has. At least, not without feeling exceedingly guilty about it.

Hold my hair up, Darlin (Ice packs on my neck) by JackiboysHorrorHouse - a fic where Soap's wisdom teeth end up having to be removed when he's in the 141, and ghost is the one who takes care of him during recovery!

Misplaced Jealousy by dyn42ty - Soap hinted that he had been crushing on someone within the base to Gaz. Overhearing the conversation, Ghost wonders who has Soap captivated. Not to mention it wasn't him? The more he thought about it, the more angry he had gotten.

lotus flower by exavibus - a new flower shop opens across the street from 141 Tattoo, in london's shoreditch district. one of the florists already seems to have something against him. the feeling's mutual.

Cry by kcisbroken - Ghost always leaves. After an intimate night together, Ghost picks up his things and doesn't look back, leaving Soap to sit in silence and ponder on whether or not it's worth breaking his heart over and over again.

i'm a fire and i'll keep your brittle heart warm by marviless - Soap spends three and a half days in Ghost's house after getting injured on a mission.

used to hide behind a mask by kj_crwn - What a pitiful thought; the scary hound of 141 force turned into a pliant mess by one simple man. “’Bout your scary mug,” Johnny clarifies, as expected. He leans down again and settles against Ghost’s chest, his head resting just beneath Ghost’s chin. “Yer a bloody gorgeous lad, Simon.” Except that Johnny is anything but simple.

We Are Ghost by Murmeloni - Instead of having to crawl out of his own grave, Simon escapes Roba's clutches with the help of Ghost. A klyntar stranded on earth who decided to make Simon his new home. The two of them were content with each other. Until they met Johnny.

Emergency Contact by soapsbeloved - John MacTavish is about as unlucky in love as you could get, never finding someone that would give him enough of a chance for a second date, resorting to sleeping around when he gets stood up. Simon, his best friend, seems to be the only person in the world willing to give Soap a chance, but the dumbass can’t see past the fact that Ghost isn’t very good at talking about things, and is completely and utterly oblivious to how Ghost feels about him.

dicentra by crown_twist - There's someone new joining the 141 and everyone is happy about it. So happy, in fact, that they don't seem to realize one of them is slowly slipping away. Johnny's only all too aware. [I reread this one so many times it's the ultimate hurt Soap fic]

and i wish i could change by SoftKing - Which meant he also noticed when Ghost frowned heavily and murmured, “Not really my thing.” “Oh,” Gaz said with his brows raised. “So you haven’t got one then.” He slapped Price on the shoulder and grinned. “I do.” Ghost interrupted, taking another long sip from his nearly empty glass. “Just think they’re rubbish.” [soulmates AU]

Night Has Always Pushed Up Day by Sillililli - Simon "Ghost" Riley is stuck in a shared hospital room, which has been fine up until then. He'd been alone, alone to fight the shame of having his face uncovered and having failed his team. But they bring someone into his space, a younger soldier, temporarily blind.

Domestic by Sillililli - Simon and John are coworkers. Both ex military, they relate in ways others can't. Soap is facing hard times at home and finds a safe place with Simon.

So Call Me Maybe? by cripplingchips - Ghost is trying to focus on the mission at hand when Soap starts getting a little… strange.

A Kiss For Luck by iamtheidiot - Soap and Ghost start playing gay chicken.

Mission: Cardsharp by nyxite - Soap (accidentally) gets a love reading from a fortune teller.

death is in the air (wish i could be brave) by aetherealmoss - Ghost gets injured severely and is sad and upset about it, until Soap appears at his doorstep and makes it better.

My frozen heart (would melt just for you) by Red_Clegane - After a mission goes wrong in Russia, Soap has to patch Ghost up... and keep him from freezing. Huddled together in a tiny cabin in the middle of the frozen tundra, something warm blossoms. [locked for non-AO3 users]

demolitions threat by amongthebooks - Home on leave, Soap has to instruct Ghost on how to disarm a bomb over the phone. The pair make a good team - but not every mission can end well. Ghost has dug himself out of his grave once already. Can he do it again?

i'm something else when i see you by oh_ellie - The first time Ghost had enough courage to plant his lips against Soap’s they’d both been drinking. They're fairly heavily intoxicated.

In the Middle of the Night by JDigital - “Go!” Came his Sergeant’s gruff exclamation as he threw his elbow into the Shadow’s face, an alarming amount of blood still soaking through his clothes. “Get out of here, go!” A few Shadows stopped their assault on Ghost’s cover to subdue their captive, and he was forced to watch as Soap was brought to his knees by a cruel strike of the stock of one of their rifles. “Ghost, move! Get out of here!”

Racing hearts season by Nuria123 - The F1 COD AU no one asked for SoapGhost style.

Through His Eyes by WhisperedWords12 - Ghost accidentally finds Soap’s sketchbook, is taken aback when he sees a familiar face looking back at him.

Peeping John. by A_BitOfStrange - When he considers it properly, the only person that would be either brave or stupid enough to go into Ghost's room while he’s away would be Johnny. The little fucking shit.

Surviving You by WhisperedWords12 - Ghost forced himself not to feel frustrated, had to admit to himself that Soap might be the most challenging sub he had ever had assigned into one of his units.

Yours Sincerely by LeoDoesGames - Johnny "Soap" MacTavish has been medically discharged following a mission gone wrong, which left him with severe agoraphobia and PTSD. He joins a programme which connects both active service members and veterans through the act of writing letters. Although things get off to a bad start, the connection he forms with his letter mate slowly becomes unbreakable. That is until he gets too close and strikes a nerve. [one of those fics that will not leave your brain for weeks]

Doing Time by MildLimerence - Soulmate AU: On leave from the 141, Soap lands himself in Strangeways prison, home to some of the worst criminals in the UK. When his soulmark activates on the inside, Soap must contend with Ghost, an infamous soulmate-hating killer who seems intent on haunting his every move.

Spiorad agus Corp by Oud_smoker420 - A bet is made between the notoriously reckless Soap and Alejandro to try and get their respective crushes and the most stoic and traumatized men of the 141 in their beds. It definitely has the potential to go so bad.

Smooth Sailing on Choppy Water by coderaven - Soap and Ghost are sent on a mission to the middle of American suburbia to protect a Russian journalist targeted by Makarov. Their cover is that they're newlyweds. And very much in love.

Bathe in Sunlight, Take Deep Breaths by coderaven - Ghost gets honorably discharged after taking a bullet to his shoulder that completely obliterates his rotator cuff and leaves him with nerve damage. He joins a gym to help with his recovery. He meets Soap, ray of sunshine personified, a trainer at the gym. He falls pathetically in love.

Learning Experience by AvaLoren - Soap is forced into a simulated interrogation with his Lieutenant and the information he learns about him isn't what he expected.

If tomorrow you don't open your eyes by Swiftwater_Prawn - Ghost loves Soap but is bad at feelings and gets stuck in a time loop. [multiple works in this series!]

Collecting Strays by WhisperedWords12 - Ghost didn't trust Soap, couldn't know for certain what a year and a half of forced fighting in the pits did to something as volatile as a Wolf. But Price insisted that the man may have valuable intel, might be enough to finally bring down the Fighting Ring where they'd found him.

Driving Myself Home by Aether_Ghoul - Gaz insisted that he was just the thing for Soap. Soap insisted that everyone had a "but" and for the life of him, Gaz wouldn't tell him what this Simon guys "but" was.

all that's said in the low light by headlocket - After a near-fatal injury, John MacTavish finds himself back in his hometown in Scotland. Fresh off an untimely discharge, he's forced to cope with disability, his dysfunctional family, and the lingering knowledge that there are some things he's just not ready to leave behind… [literally if you haven't read this yet what are you doing with your life]

Lay back and think of England by Aether_Ghoul - From the outside, Ghost is well adjusted. He seems like everything recruits and rookies could ever wish to be. Inwardly, he is falling apart. It is when Soap asks him to spend their leaves together, that he makes a decision that will haunt him. Do everything Johnny wants, needs or dreams of because if Ghost is useful, maybe Johnny will finally love him. [this is another one I keep going back to T_T]

Our Time Is Right Now by ChaoticEmeline - A serial killer is making their mark on the newly installed crime factions in London. Smart, savvy, and undetectable in a city covered in CCTV. The man operates…like a ghost. Captain John Price and his team aren't afraid to get their hands dirty and do a little ghost hunting. But what happens when the ghost starts hunting them back?

Spectre-Unit by Zosch - The Spectre-Unit was a task force shrouded in mystery, not much was known about them and it was a rare occasion to witness one of their members in action. Until the Task Force 141 gained a new addition; S-U: 25, John "Soap" MacTavish.

Velocity Of Envy by leathfaic - Soap has a friend with benefits back home in Glasgow and Ghost, Ghost doesn't have a problem with it of course. After all, Johnny is his sergeant and anything else would be unprofessional, wouldn't it?

Crystalline by Sillililli - Soap and Ghost end up captured at the same time and as much as they'd like to save each other, they can't let their captors know they could be used against each other. Easily. Simon concocts a plan to save them that he can't let Johnny in on, hoping the lie won't shatter what little is left of them when it's over.

[yayakoishii]

Hello, I’ve loved seeing all of your One Piece content recently! Could I request a Sanji and a fellow straw hat reader who recently got married? I saw something recently about how once Sanji gets married, there would come a moment where someone would call ‘Vinsmoke’ and both would turn their heads and it would just cause Sanji to get emotional because he finally shares a last name with someone who doesn’t see him as worthless. Someone who instead looks at him like he single-handedly placed every star in the sky. If you don’t end up writing this that’s alright, I at least wanted to share this little scenario.

Vinsmoke | Sanji x Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader

Word Count: 600

Genre: Fluff, minor angst?

A/n: *laughs in still haven't read past Ch. 526* Hey there requester <3 Firstly, I'm happy to hear you enjoy my writing! Thank you so much for this absolutely lovely request. You actually requested it when they were closed but I found it too cute and wanted to write it– even though I haven't reached that part in the manga yet. But, I wrote based on the things I learnt from fanfics (and whatever I got spoiled about, lol) so this might be inaccurate? I would have loved to expand but I need to know the entire backstory properly before I could do that TT Still, I had a fun time writing this cute drabble! Hope you enjoy it ♡

also available on ao3!

Sanji woke up to the most beautiful sight in his entire life– you lying next to him, curled up against his chest from where he could see your hair spilling over the pillow and your relaxed face. This was the sight he was going to wake up every day to, from now on, and the thought of it made him feel like the most blessed man on Earth.

You shifted a little, burrowing closer into him, as if you two were already sticking to each other. He could feel your skin on his own, reminders of the night before but all he could feel at the moment was overwhelming love. He couldn't hold back when he saw your hand with a ring come up to lie above his heart. The choked off sound he let out woke you up, and you looked up at him with sleepy puffy eyes.

"Sanji…?" You mumbled, humming in contentment when he wrapped you up in his arms. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, my love," he said quietly, gathering you into his arms, his own wedding band grazing your back as he did so. You shivered at the sudden cold touch but looked at him with dopey eyes full of so much love that he felt blinded. "Just thinking of how lucky I am."

The two of you eventually rolled out of the hotel bed and got ready to leave for your trip. You were on your honeymoon, a week long trip to a famous vacation island that had a lot of fun activities. Sanji had gotten ready first and gone down to the lobby to discuss something with the staff. You hurried up and joined him there after you had made sure that all the marks he left on you were hidden well under your clothes. You were not embarrassed by them – but you were also a private person who preferred to keep certain things to yourself. The love Sanji made to you was something no one else has to see or know. It was something just for you to experience.

You checked out at the reception since you had the room key and were about to make your way to Sanji when the hotel staff behind you suddenly called out, "Vinsmoke-san?"

"Yes?" You turned around automatically, feeling a little giddy. You had been preparing for this ever since Sanji proposed to you. To be called by his name, to be called his…

You didn't notice Sanji's reaction because of your own thoughts. The blonde had turned to answer the call only to be left dumbfounded when he realised the staff had called for you. You, who were now Vinsmoke (Y/n), had replied back with so much ease, like you had been answering to it your whole life.

And it was like someone had pulled his heart out of his chest and clenched it– it was both painful and pleasing to him that you were a Vinsmoke now. The first one to always be by his side, the first one to protect him even though he was clearly no longer the weak boy he once was. The first one to look at him like he hung the stars in the sky, the first one to love and accept him for who he was– you were now his first, real family. The family he had chosen and started. The family who loved him.

"Sanji?" Your concerned voice jolted him out of his thoughts and he blinked, feeling his eyes wet suddenly. His face was cradled gently in your soft hands as you looked up at him, silently asking him why he was about to cry. "What got you like this?"

Sanji swallowed the heavy lump he could feel in his throat, like his emotions had turned into a ball and were trying to come up his throat. He blinked away the last vestiges of his tears, instead wrapping you up in his arms again.

"You being mine now," he whispered, knocking his forehead gently against yours. His clear blue eyes looked straight into yours as he added, "In heart, mind, name and life."

°•❀•°

[suzukiblu]

this is a question that is not meant to come off as judgemental, and if it does i apologise and you don’t have to answer

for you, or anyone out there in the world if they see this,

What is the appeal of (the?) Omegaverse?

Ive never quite gotten it? And it might be the big bold orange, blue and white letters spelling out aroace, or being european, younger than most people who are knowledgeable about that particular genre of content (still 18+) and while I did get on the internet at 11, I didn’t start reading fanfic until 14-15

this is a long and rambly ask so I just want to clarify, this is a genuine question I would like an answer to, no matter how short and sweet, or long and convoluted it may be

It's all good, I don't mind getting questions! And, like, I've written a LOT of omegaverse, so it's a thoroughly relevant question to this blog, haha.

. . . and this definitely wound up long and convoluted. So like, yeah, we are SO gonna need a read-more here, friend. 😅

Obviously everyone's gonna have their own reasons for liking the genre, but as another (much older, I'm assuming) aroace, for me the appeal is the opportunity to use the tag "Fantasy Gender Roles". Like, there's other stuff there, def, but "Fantasy Gender Roles" is my favorite part. Omegaverse is a game where the rules are made-up and the points don't matter, and you can interpret and re-interpret the involved sexes and genders however the heck you wanna, and in fact are ENCOURAGED to. I also really like certain tropes that are common to the genre, like pack dynamics and breeding kink and having babies and feral behavior and courting/courting rituals, I just really enjoy playing with and reading about all of those.

Also, the worldbuilding. I get to do ✨GENDER-BASED WORLDBUILDING✨.

And obvi, like, some people are just into omegaverse for the kink/porn factor, which is totally fair, but personally I am here for ✨GENDER-BASED WORLDBUILDING✨. And then also the kink/porn. Generally speaking a recurring comment I've gotten from a lot of readers is "I literally hate omegaverse but I love yours", so a lot of my stuff is allegedly a decent jumping-on point for the genre if you're looking for that. Like, I'm not the only person who writes omegaverse the way I do, obviously, just I'm a pretty accessible one who's written a LOT of it.

( and in the event you DO want any jumping-on omegaverse recs from my stuff, I'mma just pop a few of them from various fandoms here. no DC-related ones 'cuz I don't have any of those currently on AO3, only scattered in my WIP tags, but hopefully something helpful will be in here. )

original fic

to the victor go the spoils - human omega OMC/dragon [ GENDER NOT FOUND ] OMC; 16.7k; explicit Fantasy AU. This one includes porn but honestly the heart of it is just one of those fairy tales where the protagonist is somehow both incredibly genre-savvy in their story and yet still a total fucking idiot about other people's feelings, and especially considering it's original fic, it is honestly one of the most popular things I've ever posted, hah.

The dragon arrived early in the morning, and by noon the entire village was in a panic in the town hall. No one in the village knew anything about dragons, aside from what they’d heard in fairy tales and stories, and the plans for dealing with it were about that level of sophisticated.

“We’re not sacrificing a virgin to the dragon,” Viktor said in exasperation.

“Well what would YOU do?!” the mayor demanded.

“I’m going to go talk to it,” Viktor said reasonably, and got up from his seat and went to do just that.

.

Avatar: The Last Airbender

does the pain feel better when I'm around? - beta!Sokka/omega!Zuko, beta!Sokka/beta!Suki, past alpha!Mai/omega!Zuko, polyamory; 3k; teen Societal dynamics-focused fic. Zuko goes into heat at the Western Air Temple immediately after the Boiling Rock happens and goes off to den down alone and stay out of everyone's way without realizing that the local betas are gonna lose their ever-lovin' MINDS about that.

“Cool,” he says. “You realize we’ve been looking for you for, like, two HOURS, right?”

“Why?” Zuko asks, sounding confused, which is kind of sad.

“Because the world is full of people who wanna kill you and you didn’t bother telling anyone where you were going?” Sokka says. “Obviously?”

“Oh.” Zuko falls silent. Sokka glances moonwards in supplication. Yue save him from dumb, dumb firebenders.

every act of communication is a miracle of translation - alpha!Mai/omega!Zuko; 5.7k; teen Post-series fic where Mai and Zuko are about to spend their first cycle together and they're both really awkward about working out how it should go. Not actually a sequel to "does the pain feel better when I'm around?", but you could definitely draw a relationship between 'em.

They leave the office, Mai pretending that all her senses aren’t full of Zuko’s warm, spicy scent, and he keeps looking worried. She wonders if it’s THIS he’s worried about, now that she’s thinking about it. They agreed they’d share their next cycles together, but again, they haven’t really talked about it.

They can talk about it now, Mai thinks.

Unfortunately, that means now they actually have to talk about it.

.

Overwatch

even if I do I don't, even if I could I won't - omega!Genji/beta!the-character-who-was-at-the-time-I-wrote-this-fic-known-as-McCree; 5.1k; explicit Blackwatch-era fic where Genji did not fill out his heat partner designation forms and "Fuck or Suffer Unspecified Health Consequences" is gonna make that a problem. Worldbuilding, assisted negotiation, a touch of workplace-influenced pack dynamics, and porn.

“Yeah, you’re hilarious, kid,” Gabe says. “Get back to work. And Shimada, call your heat partner and we’ll see you next week.”

Shimada’s shoulders tense. Gabe . . . pauses.

“Shimada,” he says slowly. “PLEASE tell me you have a heat partner on base.”

“I have a heat partner on base,” Shimada lies. Gabe and Jesse both stare at him, then Gabe calls up his file, takes one look at it, and starts cursing.

don't, don't, don't let's start (I've got a weak heart) - alpha!Genji/omega!the-character-who-was-at-the-time-I-wrote-this-fic-known-as-McCree; 17.3k; explicit Blackwatch-era fic about Genji and the character formerly known as McCree dealing with their complicated feelings about each other and also the cybernetics and trauma and physical disabilities that are fucking up their sex life, including ED.

“You busy?” he asks. Genji stares at him in bemusement, which is fair. Genji’s only ever busy when they’re on a mission or he’s in the middle of an upgrade. “Dumb question. My heat’s coming on, wanna do me a favor?”

“What favor?” Genji asks, still looking mystified. Jesse tries not to laugh at him.

“The obvious one,” he says meaningfully, tipping his hat back and raising his eyebrows at him. Genji looks no less mystified for a moment, then startles. “THERE we go."

.

Marvel Cinematic Universe

come hang (let's go out with a bang) - omega!Darcy Lewis/omega!Johnny Storm; 5k; teen Darcy almost dies again, tries to figure out which omega buys the courting gifts in an omega/omega relationship, and has her first date with a super-hot superhero.

“Was there traffic?” Jane asks.

“I have a date with Johnny Storm,” Darcy says.

“What?” Jane says.

“Oh, and I almost died again,” Darcy says, pulling out Jane’s papers for her. “But that’s kind of secondary.”

“WHAT?!”

pack up, don't stray (oh say say say) - alpha!Natasha + polyamory; 3.4k; teen Natasha collects a harem pack and Captain America is fucking difficult about it.

Natasha is an alpha on a mission, and that mission is simple and clear.

I said you're holding back, she said shut up and dance with me - alpha!Peggy/omega!Steve/omega!Bucky; 10.3k; mature Alternate timeline where Steve and Bucky don't "die" and they all run away from the States to get married and start a family. Illegal adoption and biokids and lowkey pack dynamics involving figuring out how to fold pups into their lives, oh my!! And also, they all get to dance.

“One alpha mating two omegas? Really, Steve?” Peggy asks, mouth quirking wryly. “What WOULD the newsreels say?”

“We’ll go to France,” Steve says. “No one will care in France.”

“I do love France,” she muses.

oh don't you dare hold back, just keep your eyes on me - alpha!Darcy/omega!Bucky, polyamory; 187.4k; explicit MY MAGNUM OPUS, MY WHITE WHALE, THE LITERAL REASON OMEGAVERSE TOOK OVER HALF MY BLOG FOR HALF MY STINT IN MCU FANDOM. I wanted a goddamn female alpha and I wanted that female alpha to be Darcy Lewis, and Bucky was my fave blorbo at the time so the inevitable happened. The inevitable happened for three and a half years and 187,430 words, to be more precise.

Darcy is thirty feet out of Stark-cum-Avengers Tower when she starts craving cinnamon rolls--the sticky-sweet iced-up old-fashioned kind, yummy and messy and dripping gooshy icing all over your mouth and hands and down your yuuuup, yup, that is a super, super fertile omega that she is smelling, holy SHIT is it ever.

“Jesus Christ,” she groans in frustration, then follows her alpha instincts (and, more easily and importantly, her NOSE) to go track them down. They’re in the middle of New York City; middle of the day or not, not checking on somebody who smells like THAT is, like, the ultimate dick move.

.

OKAY SELF THAT'S ENOUGH LINKS, WE MOVE ON NOW, haha.

I will also say, if you're interested in, like, gender-exploratory AU concepts, apiary genders might be more your thing and more easily accessible for you? It's a MUCH newer thing than omegaverse and really only has a few fics around, some of which are linked in the "inspired by" of that AO3 primer linked above, but the concept is a bit more strongly "hive"-based than a lot of omegaverse is "pack"-based, and also there's no physical differences from baseline. I've got a WIP or two going about apiary myself, actually, but I haven't gotten too far into them yet, alas. The only one I've posted anything from is this one Superbat one.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Lol remember the early days when there was an about-even split between people who thought that Gabriel would be Hawkmoth and people who thought Alim Kubdel would be Hawkmoth? Good times, good times. Speaking of Alix’s dad, how would you have had the show pan out with him being Hawkmoth instead?

I wasn't around to see it in real time, but I browse fanfics in rough chronological order starting from the beginning of a fandom, so I'm aware that this theory was a thing because I've read a good portion of the fics that were written pre Origins. (AO3 has a last update filter if you want to pair down your options for a less overwhelming selection or just enjoy fics from before certain plot points came to be.)

While I'm aware of the theory, I'm a little confused as to where it came from. Alim only has two brief appearances in season one. The first is from the start of The Pharaoh. In it, we see Alim telling Jalil that historical artifacts are not meant for testing crackpot theories:

Mr. Kubdel: Jalil, these types of frescoes are almost always the illustration of a legend. They called it a legend for a reason... Jalil: That's what everyone thinks. But I know it's real. I can prove it! Mr. Kubdel: Really? And exactly how are you going to prove it? Jalil: I just need to get my hands on Tutankhamun's scepter and recite the spell! Mr. Kubdel: Are you serious? Don't even think of touching that scepter. I'd lose my job on the spot. It's a priceless historical object! Not a toy! Jalil: Come on, dad! We have to try out the spell! What if Tutankhamun had found out how to bring people back to life? Mr. Kubdel: Listen, Jalil! That's enough! Get your head out of those papyrus scrolls and focus on the real world! This one! (leaves)

And his other appearance is from the start of Timebreaker. In it, Alim gives Alix the watch that is later revealed to be her miraculous:

Alix: They're Marinette's parents. You know, one of the chicks I hang out with? Mr. Kubdel: Yes, I remember. They make the best bread in the whole of Paris. (he notices one of Alix's sneakers) Couldn't you have made more of an effort to dress nicely? Alix: What do you mean? I took off my cap. (points to her cap) Mr. Kubdel: But this is a special day. Alix: Well, it's only a birthday. Mr. Kubdel: No, this is a special birthday (reaches inside his jacket pocket and brings out a watch) This family heirloom was made by one of our ancestors many, many years ago. It's been passed down from one generation to the next, on their 15th birthday. And today, it's your turn to inherit it. Alix: It's pretty sweet, dad. But I've already got a watch, synced up to my smartphone. Mr. Kubdel: But sometimes there's more to things than meets the eye. Let's just say that our ancestor was… (opens the watch) Ahead of his time. (Alix gasps) Of course, I'd understand if you'd rather me buy you a new pair of rollerblades. Alix: No, Dad! I'm stoked to have it. It's awesome, thank you! (her phone rings) Mr. Kubdel: Are your friends waiting? Alix: Yeah, but I don't wanna bail on you. It's cool. Mr. Kubdel: No, no, go ahead. (Alix stands up and grabs her cap) Now, take good care of it.

Based on these two scenes, Alim doesn't read like a villain to me. He reads like some sort of protector. If I had to pick a role for him, it would be the guardian, not the villain. After all, what better way to find missing miraculous than to go into a field that has you informed about all sorts of interesting archaeological discoveries? The fact that he's handing out a miraculous only elevates that potential, especially since Alim was smart enough to give it to the kid who was suited to be a hero while leaving Jali is be his conspiracy-theory-loving self.

Another variation of that is to have him (or Alix's other parent) be the rabbit holder and Alim is passing on the torch to Alix because it's time to start her training. He did say that the watch is handed down through their family and, if there's one miraculous that would need a lot of training, it's the rabbit. Plus a history related field is a perfect fit for a rabbit!

Of course, a villain might also go into a field like curation in order to find miraculous, but I'm really not getting villain vibes here. Part of the reason Gabriel makes such a good villain is that he has a clear, understandable goal: bringing back his wife. Alim has nothing like that, so to make him into a villain, I'd have to come up with a motivation for him and the only thing that I can think of is wanting to bring back his own seemingly missing spouse. That's not a very interesting route, though, since it's just a copy-paste of Gabriel's plot and I'd want Alim to be something unique unless you wanted to swap Adrien and Alix for some reason and just tell the same story with a focus on different characters.

I mean, you could make Alim have a motivation like protecting historical artifacts, but then why would he want the ladybug and the black cat? What wish would he be trying to make? Rewriting history won't protect it! I could maybe see a goal of rewriting history to stop a bunch of atrocities, but any historian would know that undoing a given set of atrocities means massive changes to history and it would likely just lead to different atrocities. You'd have to change how humans work or something equally messed up to make a world without atrocities, which makes it a pretty poor motivation as it would make Alim too cartoonish to really work. He'd feel like such a massive step down from Gabriel's complexity...

All of this is why I don't think that the show should have continued post Gabriel. I just don't see what motivation you can give a villain that isn't either derivative or a cartoonish downgrade. "I want to resurrect my wife" just hits different from "I want to take over the world."

To make Alim a villain in his own right, you'd have to redesign major elements of the show. I think a character with his background would work well as a master thief who collects historical artifacts for his own collection or to sell them so that he can live in luxury, but I can't picture his character sending out akumas to terrorize Paris. Ladybug and Chat Noir would go from action heroes to something more stealthy. Spies who are trying to track down Alim and stop his network, returning artifacts to their rightful owners. Not a bad concept for a show, but too different from Miraculous for me to pretend it's a good concept for a series reboot.

[television-overload]

The Most Popular Man in D.C.

(X-Files Fanfic)

[read on AO3]

-.-.-

In the months after Scully is returned from her abduction, Mulder starts getting catcalled on the street on an almost daily basis. At first, he doesn't think much of it, but after a few weeks, he finds it odd enough to mention to her.

She walks into the basement to find him putting pins in a map of D.C., hunched over his desk in concentration.

"Mulder?" she asks with an amused look on her face, paused in the doorway with her eyebrow arched.

With a brief glance up at her, he asks, "Scully, do you think I'm attractive?" Her hand almost slips off the door handle.

Her mouth falls open to answer, but she has no clue what words might come out. What is it he's wanting her to say? He doesn't look like he's joking. In fact, he looks deadly serious.

"I–"

"I just mean, if you saw me on the street, would you—you know—whistle at me?"

His question startles a chuckle from her throat, loosening her tongue. "Whistle?" She stares at him incredulously. Where is this coming from?

"Yeah," he says. "Whistle, wave, shower me with unsolicited compliments?"

Normally, she might laugh, assuming this to be one of the goofy bits he does when he's in a good mood, but something genuinely seems to be concerning him.

"Why do you ask?" she says, brows furrowing as she enters the room fully, shutting the door behind her.

He puts another pin on the map, near the grocery store she knows he goes to near his apartment in Alexandria.

"Scully, in the last month or so, I've been catcalled by random women nearly every day, all over D.C." he begins. "On my run, at the gym, even once when I went to pick up more fish food at the pet store. All over."

"Catcalled, Mulder?" she asks.

"Yes!"

"Is that so unusual?"

His brows slant in clear concern. He needs her reassurance.

"Look, you're a... not wholly unattractive guy," she starts cautiously. "And these places—the gym, the park where you run... You'd be covered in sweat, wearing that— that sleeveless Knicks shirt you have..." She trails off, blushing profusely and hoping her hair conceals it.

"But, the PET store, Scully," he insists, thankfully too worked up to notice her pink cheeks. He gestures wildly at the map before him. "All of these pins are places where I remember it happening. All in the last month."

Oh boy. "Putting that eidetic memory to good use, I see," she says. She surveys his slightly manic appearance, gauging how worried she needs to be about his state of mind.

"There's a clear concentration in certain areas," he says, ignoring her comment. "Look: about four blocks from my apartment, see? There's a cluster of them, all near this corner."

She looks where he is pointing, and indeed, there are six pins huddled close to each other while others are more spread out.

"Do you have a theory?" she can't believe she asks.

"I was hoping you would," he says, a little defeated.

Well, if she's not about to be dragged into a wild goose chase investigation based on some theory he's concocted, then she's back to finding this entire situation hilarious again. "Why should I have a theory?" she asks, suppressing a smile as she crosses her arms and looks up at him.

"I don't know," he says, shrugging awkwardly. "You're a... a woman."

She rolls her eyes. "Thank you for noticing."

"No, but maybe you have some insight. A different perspective."

"Some kind of womanly intuition?" she asks doubtfully, challengingly.

"Well, yeah."

She purses her lips. She has no immediate answer for him, so the office falls silent. He slumps back into his chair, looking far more bedraggled than he ought to at just past 8:00 am.

No, Mulder, she doesn't have some insider secret about the female mind to explain this so-called phenomenon away, but... Man, that is a lot of pins on the map. All in the last month, he says?

Why are her toes tapping incessantly on the floor beneath the desk?

"Mulder," she starts, hardly believing the words that are about to come out of her mouth. "If you're that worried about it, maybe we should go check out some of these areas of concentration."

He looks up at her, just as surprised to hear the suggestion come from her lips.

"Really?"

She wants to roll her eyes again, but there's a knot of something she refuses to acknowledge as jealousy in her chest that prevents her from doing so.

"Only if you're that concerned," she says, hoping she sounds firm and not at all interested in why her partner is getting hit on by women left and right.

He fumbles his way to his feet, stabbing himself in the palm with a pin accidentally in the process. He curses under his breath and shakes his hand out while eagerly shoving his arm in his jacket sleeve. "Okay," he says. "I think we should start by my gym, that's where it happens the most."

"Fine," she agrees stiffly, trying not to picture him breathless after a workout and surrounded by his loving admirers.

She drives, because she needs something to do with her hands. He navigates. It's his steps they're retracing, after all. He knows best what direction they need to head in.

They park on the street, exiting the car and getting a feel of their surroundings.

"There's my gym," he points out. She's not exactly sure what they're looking for, but she keeps her eyes peeled all the same.

After a few minutes spent wandering near the entrance, she's about to call it quits, but then a muscular little brunette calls out from across the street, grinning from ear to ear as she shouts, "Woo! I'd pay your dry cleaning bill just to watch you work out in that suit, handsome!"

Before either of them has time to respond, or even come to terms with what just happened, the woman disappears into a storefront. A yoga studio, Scully deduces from the sign out front.

"See?" Mulder says, swinging his hand out toward the other side of the street. The suddenness of his speech startles her out of her tense posture, and she forces her shoulders to relax.

"I give her points for creativity," she says, marching primly back to the car and throwing the driver's side door open.

The next place they drive is the grocery store, just a stone's throw away from his apartment building. Once again, she parks, and they wander about, but this time, their fellow pedestrians are blissfully silent. She looks around. There's the grocery store. Beside it, a pawn shop. On the other side, a place selling herbal supplements... and possibly also other "herbal" remedies. RadioShack across the street. Not much going on at—she checks her watch—8:47 am.

"Notice anything unusual?" she asks, watching as an older couple hobbles into the grocery store arm-in-arm.

His shoulders lift in a shrug. "It's quieter than usual," he says. "I'm not usually here this early on a week day."

She nods. This stop might have been a bust, but at least she didn't have to hear another cheesy one-liner directed at Mulder.

They're not so lucky at the next, and—she decides—final stop.

About a block down from the coffee shop in Georgetown that he frequents when he has to wake her at an ungodly hour, two women loiter outside a shop advertising high-quality tattoos and piercings. One takes a drag from her cigarette, then calls out, "Let's see a smile on those pouty lips!" The other woman chuckles, puffing out a cloud of smoke.

Mulder gives an awkward smile and nod in their direction, and Scully promptly grabs him by the arm, ushering him hurriedly back to the car.

She stews in silence on the drive back to the Hoover building. She knows she has no right to do so, and yet...

"You see what I mean, Scully?" he asks. "You gotta agree that something's unusual."

Does she? He's an attractive man. YES, okay, she's attracted to him. Can she fault other women for noticing? Maybe they could do to keep their mouths shut and leave him alone, sure, but wouldn't most men kill to have that kind of attention given to them?

"I don't know," she answers, her hands gripping the wheel.

"I'm serious. I've lived here for years, and this has never happened before. Then all of a sudden..."

"You're reading too much into it," she snaps. Then, softening her tone, "I mean, if they won't leave you alone, tell them to back off. Tell them you're an FBI agent and can arrest them for harrassment."

"Scully..."

"It's not an X-File, Mulder," she says decisively. "We've missed enough work as it is. Just forget about it."

His jaw shifts like he's about to argue her point, but instead he says the words she's always longed to hear from him.

"You're probably right."

-.-.-

She tries to forget about it.

On Thursday, he cheekily informs her that he had been called a "handsome devil" that morning while stopping by the bank. Friday, the descriptive term is decidedly less work-friendly, but he saunters in looking quite pleased with himself.

Gee, she sure is glad she told him not to worry about all the attention he's getting. Now, he actually seems to be enjoying it.

The weekend can't come soon enough. At 5:00 on the dot, she bids goodbye to his boyish smile and wishes him a good weekend. At home, she finishes off half a bottle of wine and watches some trashy reality TV until it's bedtime, and she promptly passes out.

-.-.-

Saturday, she wakes up feeling stupid. After popping a few advil, she deep cleans her kitchen, tossing out the now empty bottle of wine and even dusting on top of her cabinets, a task that requires standing precariously on the countertop with a featherduster in hand.

As the clock ticks closer to noon, though, she begrudgingly pulls herself away from her work and readies herself for her afternoon commitment with her sister. On the way to Melissa's dumpy—temporary—apartment, she picks up lunch from her favorite Chinese place. It's been months since Melissa came to town. She's not the kind to stay put in one place for long. If Scully hadn't been abducted, or whatever it was that happened to her, Missy wouldn't have been there in the first place.

The apartment is one she'd found on short notice when she heard what had happened, and came to support their mother throughout the ordeal. It pays by the month, and has a serious ant problem in the kitchen, but otherwise isn't the absolute worst living situation Scully could fathom. She liked having her sister nearby, even if it was only for a while.

Now, the ceaseless call of adventure summons Melissa once more, and it is time to go. Scully had promised to help her pack her things this weekend, and now the day is here.

"You sure you don't want to stay?" she asks, loathing how the sentence makes her sound like her 15 year old self when Missy had first left home for her first (and only) year of college.

"You don't need me, Dana," her sister says. "Besides, you know I can only handle so much of Mom telling me what I should be doing with my life."

"She means well," Scully assures her.

"I know she does," Missy says with a smile. "And I know you're no stranger to doing the complete opposite of what she tells you, too."

Scully breathes out a laugh.

"Come on, help me take these boxes down to the moving truck." Melissa shucks her jacket off, tying it around her waist in preparation for the physical labor it would take to carry multiple loads of boxes down four flights of stairs. One of the worst features of this apartment building is it's permanently broken elevator. Moving in must have been a nightmare.

Bending to pick up her first box, Scully catches a glimpse of something on Missy's right wrist, visible now that her jacket has come off.

"What's that?" she asks, brows furrowing.

"Hmm?" her sister asks. Her eyes follow Dana's to the marking on her skin on the underside of her arm. "Oh, I got that while you were in the hospital. You're like 90% of my impulse control, Dana."

Her teasing tone does not negate the heaviness that comes from mentioning that horrific time for her family. That time when she was all but lost to all those who knew her.

"What is it?" she asks.

Missy sets her box back down, and Scully does the same. "Check it out," she says, drawing closer so Scully can see.

On her wrist is a small cross tattoo, remarkably similar in shape and size to the cross Scully wears around her neck.

Strange. She's fairly certain Melissa hasn't been to mass in years, much to their mother's chagrin.

"Why?" she asks, genuine confusion lacing her voice.

"Don't go all 'Mom' on me, Dane," Missy jokes, smacking her in the shoulder. "It's just a tattoo."

Scully shakes her head. "No, I mean, why that? Why a cross?"

"Oh." Melissa looks down at her wrist in thought, then back up at Dana. "It just... seemed to be the thing to do."

"Something to remember me by?" Scully tries to joke, though she's aware of how morbid that sounds, to live to see the way her sister planned to memorialize her.

"Actually, no," Melissa corrects. "It was your partner."

Huh?

"Mulder?" Scully asks, wondering how on earth her necklace—the symbol of Christianity—relates to her unbelieving partner.

"Yeah, it was— Look, it's not really my place to tell, but I saw the way he relied on that necklace of yours for strength while you were gone. Not once did I see him take it off. It was like, if he didn't let go of it, then he wasn't letting go of you. I admire that."

Scully still doesn't understand. "So, the tattoo..."

"Is a reminder to have hope," Melissa finishes. "To have that same belief in others that Fox had for you, even when things looked hopeless and we almost gave up."

Scully's heart twists painfully.

This marking on her sister's body is tangible proof of what Scully has known all along:

That her partner is something special. That his uncommon belief in the unbelievable leaves an impact, not just on her, but on others whom he interacts with.

She still finds it hard to fathom that there had been weeks and months where Mulder was out there, spending time with her mother and sister while she was missing, or lying comatose on a hospital bed.

"When you came back, and when you got better, I knew it was him that saved you," Missy says softly, as if she can hear her thoughts and doesn't want to disrupt them. "I know it's him."

Her sister's piercing eyes meet hers seriously, and she turns away, lifting the box back into her arms to serve as a distraction.

"We don't want to keep the movers waiting," she says, forcing her thoughts away from Mulder. Away from the dangerous thoughts that had filled her head all week.

Missy's eyes brighten, and she grins.

"Don't keep him waiting," she warns.

-.-.-

Scully hands her sister the last of the boxes, and Missy stands up in the back of the truck, brushing the dust off her hands with a satisfied sigh.

"That's the last of it," she says proudly. "Oh, wait—"

She turns quickly, rummaging through a few boxes before triumphantly extracting a small piece of paper.

"Here, give that back to Fox, will you?" she says, handing it to Scully.

"What's this?" she asks, turning the glossy paper in hand to look at it properly.

In her hand, she holds a photo of Mulder from one of the times he'd been locked up on trespassing charges that ultimately wouldn't hold. He'd gotten a kick out of getting his mugshot taken, and so had requested a copy of it upon his release, and the small sheriff's department in Idaho had granted his wish.

But why did Melissa have it?

"I stole it from his apartment," she says, answering her unspoken question. "Made some copies, spread them around."

"You— you did what with them?"

"Just gave them to some friends," she says, smirking as she plops down on the edge of the truck bed. "You know I make friends wherever I go."

"Yeah, but why?"

The conspiratorial smile on her sister's face comes straight out of their childhood.

"Has Fox been getting an unusual amount of attention when walking around D.C. lately?" she asks nonchalantly, concealing a wider grin.

"Missy, you didn't!" Scully says, her jaw dropping.

"You didn't see him, Dane! He needed a pick-me-up!" Melissa raises her hands in defense, smiling at her sister's reaction.

Scully scoffs, but only to prevent a burst of astonished laughter from escaping. "A pick-me-up, not someone to pick him up," she says in as chastising a voice as she can manage.

Only Melissa would do something like this. She should have known.

"So it did work after all," Missy surmises. "Good. He needed a confidence boost. Has his ego inflated terribly?"

This time, Scully does laugh. "Sure, maybe after he got over the paranoia of suddenly being the most popular man in Washington, D.C."

"I guess it would come as a shock," Missy says, eyes bright with mirth.

Scully smacks her sister in the arm. "He was convinced it was some kind of conspiracy!"

"Oh, well," Missy says. "The real conspiracy is how you won't hit on that man yourself."

She's going to miss her sister, she reminds herself. Just be glad she's been in town this long.

Nope. She still wants to throttle her.

She shakes her head.

"Melissa..."

-.-.-

The compliments—because Scully refuses to call them catcalls—continue for the next few months, though with decreasing frequency.

After thinking it over for the weekend, she decides not to tell him. Maybe some day, years from now, when they can laugh about it.

For now, she lets other women say her thoughts aloud, and delights in the way his cheeks turn rosy when she's with him to hear their cheesy pick-up lines.

She wonders how she didn't notice before, the way these women look just like people Melissa would hang around with. Choker necklaces around their necks, Doc Martin shoes... Mulder was onto something with his map. The gym: across the street from a yoga studio that Missy had gone to a few times. The herbal supplement place, one that Missy had definitely stopped by on occasion. The tattoo parlor. Self-explanatory.

Now that she's in on the secret, whenever it happens, it's like Missy is there for a second. It makes her feel less far away. She thinks of these women being handed a photocopied flyer with Mulder's face on it, and wonders what on earth Missy had specifically told them to do.

Whatever it was, it had been effective.

Funny. She never really pictured introducing her sister to her partner, but now she wonders how she didn't see it before. She's glad Missy stepped in to look after him while she was gone, even if it involved a prank of questionable taste. She wouldn't have expected any less from her sister. And maybe that was just what Mulder needed.

She tells him at the funeral.

It's too early to find the humor in it, like she'd hoped they would someday. But his lips do curl into a small smile. Remembering.

It still happens on occasion after that. And when it does, Mulder takes Scully's hand and whispers, "See? She's never really gone."

Melissa Scully had left her mark on Washington, D.C., even in the short time she'd been there. She left her mark on Mulder in the same way.

Years down the line, when the number of Mulder's admirers has dwindled to one, Scully lies awake, picturing his face as he whispered sweet words to her. His constant. His touchstone.

"You were right, Missy," she breathes into the still air of her lonely apartment. Sometimes it feels haunted by her ghost. Tonight, that brings her comfort. "You were right."

She thinks she hears the echo of a sultry whistle.

-.-.-

Tagging: @today-in-fic @agent-troi @baronessblixen @captainsolocide @cutemothman @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @teenie-xf

[kitkatt0430]

So big shout out to SquidgeWorld for the news update acknowledging and encouraging the use of the tilde relationship identifier for queerplatonic ships!!!

I actually had a bit of a hand in how this one came about, which is pretty fun. (Story time!)

So a few years ago the Character A ~ Character B format was introduced over here on tumblr to represent QPRs. There is a post I know I rebloged a few times buried on my main somewhere about this and I'll have to try to remember to dig that up later. And there was bit of a push to try and get Ao3 to officially acknowledge the tilde or at least for those of us who write fic there start using it in tagging regardless of official acknowledgement and see what happened. And, well, what largely seems to have happened is that the tag wranglers have let us use the tilde, but there's been no official acknowledgement as the Tag Wrangling page for relationships on Ao3 still only discusses the '&' and '/' identifiers. (If there was anything official said about it elsewhere, sadly I must have missed it.)

I started using the tilde... two years ago? I think? And went back to update some of my existing fics to add in ship tags with the tilde. I still made sure to keep the Queerplatonic Relationship tags because those are still the best way to find fics that have QPRs included in them. And I've seen a few others using the '~' out in the wild, but discussion about it kind of faded again. If you knew, you knew. And if you didn't... there was always that Queerplatonic Relationship tag.

Then, about a year ago, I signed up for SquidgeWorld. I'd never heard of it before (which is likely because I'm just not super active in fandom outside the niche I've carved for myself; I admit, I am a bit under a rock at times...) but Squidge been around in one form or another since 1994. One of the fanfic authors I followed was moving their works there and so I followed and did what I always do on new sites I'm curious about - I lurked.

Fast forward to more recently. Fanfiction.net that I've been loyally using as my backup fic location for years after leaving it as my main fanfic archive... it's getting buggier and more unstable by the year. I don't intend to pull my fanfiction off it - I will leave what's on there up until the site collapses in on itself - but the day is coming ever nearer that the bugs and lack of tagging updates will finally make cross-posting there entirely too much of a hassle. And much as I love Ao3, I don't like the idea of only having all my fanfic in one place. I've seen enough archives big and small get destroyed over the years that no matter how stable or permanent Ao3 feels... I'm more comfortable knowing my fic can be found in multiple places. (Of course, the biggest hurdle for getting my fics cross-posted in multiple places is... executive dysfunction.)

I started finally cross-posting to SquidgeWorld recently and honestly just didn't really think too much about it when bringing over fics tagged with the QPR identifier. I just copied over the Character A ~ Character B tags and hit post. :D

But admin-squidgie over there - who I believe is found here on tumblr using @squidgiepdx (hi! Thanks a bunch for the news post!) - asked me about the tilde usage and what that was being used to represent. So I responded with an explanation about how it was a relatively new identifier used because queerplatonic relationships aren't really well represented by romantic or platonic identifiers. And then admin-squidgie got back to me to let me know there'd be a news post soon about this new identifier type. Which was so awesome.

While the wrangling guidelines haven't been updated on SquidgeWorld to note the use of the tilde yet (and could take a while, I know official docs always wind up being the last thing updated), the news post really is a very big deal for those of us who like to write and read queerplatonic ships.

For those of you interested in cross-posting or moving your fanfic to SquidgeWorld, I do recommend the archive. I've lurked long enough to see that the community there is pretty friendly, the interface is a clone of Ao3's so it should be familiar to a lot of you and is easily customized to make it more accessible (or covered in rainbows if you prefer ^_^ ), and (as seen here) the admin over there is open to helping make the archive an inclusive place for all of us.

And with at least one fanfic archive both acknowledging and encouraging the use of the queerplatonic relationship identifier, it'd be nice to see information on that making the rounds here on tumblr again. I bet there are a lot of aspecs who don't know about the identifier but who would be glad to know it exists and start using it themselves.

[peachsayshi]

deadass started reading ‘the way you love me’ after seeing the news abt gojo and i ended up pulling an all-nighter on it 🧍‍♀️ i wasnt intending on smut I just happened upon it bc of the ‘gojo satoru needs a hug’ tag on ao3 but now im a little bit obsessed and i just wanted to pass along a hug of support to a fellow gojo luvr<3 and also ask if u could maybe write something bittersweet with him bc im still grieving immensely.. can be canon compliant or an au or a lil fix-it blurb i just need to feel Something JSJSJD …..💔💔

➳  minors / ageless / blank blogs dni /this blog is 20+ for follows

⥽ notes: nonniee!! ahhh, first off I'm sending you such a big hug after reading the leaks (because it's what we all deserve right now).I love this string bean so much :c he's the reason why I started writing fanfics again :c thank you so much for taking the time to read my gojo fic! I really appreciate the feedback & support xo here's a little bittersweet blurb xo

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ tags: angst/fluff; canon doesn't exist here; in which gojo wins but at a cost; reader has a little anxiety; in which you are both healing together; mentions gojo as a dad; manga spoilers

the image of him on the ground, tattered up like a torn up doll, has your body springing upright from your mattress. your legs go numb as your throat tightens with a discomfort that has you struggling to catch your breath from witnessing the soul of your lover descending into an unknown abyss where you couldn’t follow.

why did he look so real?

the visual sends tremors down your spine, making your heart bang heavily in your chest as your ears ring. you instantly reach for him; your hand desperately seeking out his warmth, but instead your are met with the cold touch of your pillow.

the space beside you is empty, and your heart whispers a low, and petrified: no.

you kick off your bedsheets to stand on your two feet and even though the abrupt gesture makes you a little lightheaded, you catch your balance as you swiftly walk out of your bedroom.

it’s just a dream…

one quick turn to the kitchen is where you find him.

you reach your arm around to pinch your skin just to make sure that you are awake...

...that everything around is what is real.

gojo angles his neck towards you, his gaze softening at the sight of you and a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

"I thought you were asleep," he addresses, the gentle tone of his voice prompting you to march right up to him.

the front of his brows pinch with concern when you reach for his tee and bury your nose into his chest to breathe in the cozy scent of spice and citrus.

a scent that always smells of coming home, of safety, of love...

hot tears prick your eyes; it was just a bad dream, you remind yourself, just a bad dream.

you tilt your chin up, sighing with ease when you meet those familiar irises, all the while thinking that he's still as breathtaking as ever.

you love that he's letting his hair grow out, the snowy length just grazing the base of his neck while the shorter, front layers frame his face nicely.

it's cute seeing him experiment with different looks in this very new process of self discovery - a stage which he was robbed from entirely in his youth.

his once striking, prominent eyes are now soft and muted, a hint of grey glazing over the sparkling blue. the tear in his right pupil reminds of you of that fateful night three years ago, when the weight of the world hung heavily on the broad shoulders of the man before you.

his perfect hands return the gesture of your touch as they seek out your waist, and the simple contact makes your lashes flutter with relief.

he may no longer be the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, the possessor of six eyes, the untouchable with an infinity that garnered his protection...but he is still forever your satoru.

the last three years had you counting every single blessing, with the roots of your happiness blooming all over your home. it's in the gold band that sits comfortably around your ring finger, in every single photograph which has been thoughtfully framed and the bundle of joy sleeping quietly in her bed just down the hall.

yet, despite all of is, you can't shake off the vile cursed king who haunts you like a ghost, especially when you think about the true cost of that battle. if things had taken a turn for the worse then the last three years wouldn't even exist, and everything around you would have been a simple fabrication-

"hey," gojo squeezes your waist to grab your attention, a worried pout forming on his pretty pink lips, "why do you look so upset, angel?"

you swallow the hard lump that's been stuck in your throat since you've woken up. "I had a really bad dream," you proceed to explain, but your voice wavers instantly as a single tear trickles down your cheek, "I had a dream that I...that I lost you..."

your husband arches his brow, but you feel him relax against your touch as a cheeky grin lights up his face. "but I'm right here" he teases with a playful tone that instantly triggers you to feign annoyance.

"Ugh, obviously, satoru..." you scold, gripping your digits against the material of his shirt.

you try to pull away from him, but he simply secures his arms behind your lower back to keep you looped into his frame.

you don't deny the comfort of his embrace, and instead fold by circling your own limbs around his waist as you rest your cheek against his chest.

"I meant losing you for good, as in...never seeing you again..."

"ahh, I see..." your husband acknowledges.

"it scared me, satoru. it really did," you vent with a tiny sniffle. “I thought you were really gone for a moment…”

he draws small, soothing circles with his index finer on your lower back, allowing you to hold onto him for as long as you need while you softly let out your small sobs as the quiet settles around you.

“I can promise you one thing..."

"what's that?"

he releases you for only a moment to cup your cheeks. his face is full of love, showered with devotion that helps wash away your distress. he carefully wipes the rogue tears that fall from your beautiful eyes, before arching forward to tap the tip of his nose against yours.

"you're not getting rid of me that easily" he smiles tenderly and lightly pecks your lips.

his words are laced with confidence, dripping with a strong level of assurance that only satoru gojo can deliver.

it’s lighthearted but full of meaning, because the last time he said that sentence was right before walking into battle.

you curl your fingers around his wrist, parting your mouth this time when he searches for a second kiss. your ears burn when he firms his hold on your jaw, a low flame igniting in your belly as he glides his tongue across yours and releases a satisfied hum in the process.

the kiss is a little extra sweet tonight, like you're savoring the saccharine syrup of the ripest candied berries-

"hmph, 'toru?" you mumble into the kiss, your mind slowly leaving the shrouds of darkness as you rest your forehead comfortably against his. "were you…were you eating the treats that I got for 'ume?"

"what?" he dramatically scoffs in disbelief, "no..."

"satoru..." you reprimand.

"you really think I snuck out here just to eat izumi's candy?"

a tiny giggle escapes you, "you taste like I'm biting into sugar granules..."

"that's cause I'm made of only good things, sweetheart" he smiles as he nuzzles his nose against yours.

for whatever reason that answer brings you immense comfort. despite how much of him has actually changed, you're happy to know that satoru is still himself in many, many other ways.

"I now see where our daughter gets her exceptionally cute charm from," you concede with a roll of your eyes.

"mhmm," satoru agrees with a level of pride that makes your heart swell.

you know just how much that little girl means to him.

he straightens his back, his hand still cradling your face as he calmly strokes his thumb back and forth over your cheek. "feeling a bit better?"

you exhale, "yeah, a little-"

"you want to head back to bed?"

you nod your head, tilting it only slightly for you to kiss the inside of his palm.

“c’mon, let’s get you tucked in”

you’re not quick to let him go just yet, and satoru has to fight back from smiling like an idiot when you lock your arms around his waist.

he stays entangled, draping his own across your shoulder as he leads you back into the bedroom.

you don’t have to tell him where the source of your pain stems from.

he knows it all too well himself.

as a matter of fact, it’s now ingrained at the very core of satoru's soul because even he can’t deny the severity of what happened.

that night stripped him of everything he's ever known, of everything he’s ever believed himself to be…

but he doesn't care about the loss. he doesn’t mull over the depths of his sacrifice when the exchange of his divinity for his mortality meant the reward of living out the rest of his life with his one true love by his side.

it’s a decision he would have made a thousand times over.

[floralcyanide]

ʜɪꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱᴏʀ!ᴊᴏʜɴ “ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ” ᴇɢᴀɴ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ ɪɪ

Your job at the museum teaches you more than you think when it’s opening night for a WWII exhibit.

pairing: professor!john "bucky" egan / fem!reader

warnings: none!

author’s note: I'm thinking the next part to this will be an actual fanfic but we'll see (:

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

✦ You work hard on your first paper based on your thesis. Dr. Egan gives you pointers here and there. Sometimes, you go to his office just to chat when you aren’t doing research. 

✦ He doesn’t go into detail about his personal life, but you do know he’s divorced and has a kid who’s a teenager. He talks about his son a lot, and it brings a smile to your face. Dr. Egan says he hopes his son is just as smart as you when he gets to college. 

✦ He mentions a trip to DC for the Master’s program. You jump at the idea, much to Dr. Evan’s delight. You ask if he’s going, and he says no. You wonder why but don’t bother to ask. There’s a lot that Dr. Egan doesn’t seem like he wishes to tell you. And you wonder if it’s simply because he’s your superior or if it’s something else. Either way, you’re curious. But you don’t want to cross a line. 

✦ You talk a lot about your grandfather to Professor Egan; he always listens patiently and even gives you a moment to gather yourself when you become emotional. You also talk about your father a good bit. Dr. Egan asks what he does, and you explain that he used to be a pilot in the last war. Dr. Egan makes a peculiar face but brushes it off quickly.

✦ He asks what squadron your father was in. “My father was in the Hundredth. He talks about his experience a lot.” Dr. Egan suddenly checks his watch and excuses himself, saying he had to be somewhere and that you were welcome to return to his office tomorrow.

✦ You leave confused about what caused the sudden change in Professor Egan's demeanor but shake it off. You do come again the following day and bring coffee, apologizing for anything you may have bothered him with.

✦ “It wasn’t anything you said, don’t worry,” Dr. Egan says, “I just lost track of time. I tend to do that with you a lot.” You try not to get flustered at his comment when he gives you a soft smile with it. 

✦ Whenever you aren’t researching or hanging with Dr. Egan, you work at the local World War II museum, creating exhibits and giving guests tours. It’s the opening of the new exhibit of the airmen of the war tonight, and you’re dressed your best. You’re happy to explain to guests the timeline of the war and show them photographs and artifacts. 

✦ A familiar figure catches your eye. You notice a tall, graying man with his hands shoved in his pockets, eyeing photos of the squadron your father was in that he donated to the exhibit. You approach the man, “Have any questions?” he turns around, and sure enough, it’s Dr. Egan.

✦ “Professor Egan! I didn’t expect you to be here!” you smile as he looks at you knowingly, with a bit of defeat. “I knew you’d be here, actually,” he says. You give him a confused look.

✦ Dr. Egan points at the group photo of the remaining airmen from the 100th who live to V Day to a specific man with a dashing grin. “See this guy here? Does he look familiar to you?” You squint, leaning close to the photograph you’ve seen many times. Then you realize that dashing smile only belongs to one person.

✦ You carefully look over to Dr. Egan, unsure of what to say. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you ask. “Didn’t want people, especially students, to see me differently.” “How would they see you in any way other than a hero?” you ask, putting a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not really the ideal profession,” Dr. Egan swallows, unable to look you in the eye. You sigh, “It was war, Professor. You did what needed to be done, unfortunately. And it’s over now.”

✦ “I just felt you needed to know about my past,” Dr. Egan admits, “Especially since we’ve grown so close professionally and your father was in the same squadron as me. It was only time before you found out.”

✦ “I’d love to know everything you’re willing to tell me. Especially since it’ll help with my research. Not to mention there’s probably stuff my father never mentioned,” you chuckle. There’s a mischievous glint in Dr. Egan’s eye at that statement. “Lunch tomorrow?”

[graysparrowao3]

Baldur's Gate 3 Fic Masterlist

Last updated Dec 24th 2024

Hi there, I'm Gray (or Sparrow!)! I didn't really want the 'ao3' to be always at the end of my name, but I got the username and title mixed up when I was making the account, and here we are lol.

I really enjoy writing Baldur's Gate 3 fanfic, especially based on Rolan, Cal, and Lia but most anyone really, especially NPCs (and, apparently, an unexpected redemption series featuring Rugan and Aradin that broke me).

I've loved finding so many friends and talented folks in the fandom, please feel welcome to connect 💛

[Fic list under cut]

Multi-Chapter fics - Mature & Explicit

What if Rolan was a Companion. Complete. Mature Follows the game with Rolan as a companion and gn!Tav. Good ending.

What if Rolan was a Companion... and Everything Went Wrong. In progress, we're back baby! Companion piece to the above. The game with Rolan, angst, and pain. Bad ending.

The Elturian Prodigy - Currently In progress, Explicit due to violence. A story of Rolan, Cal, and Lia, or 'What Baldur's Gate 3 looks like in my head'.

What if Kanon Lived. In progress, not published. An alternate timeline of the game in which, you guessed it, Kanon lived.

Rolan, Cal, & Lia One shots - General/Teen

A Perfectly Reasonable Exchange. General. Rolan and gn!Tav go on a romantic walk, then Cal and Lia ask how it went.

The Bet. General. Cal and Lia try to keep romantic liaisons secret from Rolan.

Distraction. General. Lia must distract Rolan and Cal so her lover can sneak away.

Our Turn. Teen and Up. Cal and Lia take care of Rolan after he defeats Lorroakan. Emotional hurt. Inspired by this art by @dreaminginpencil.

The Northern Bastards - Aradin & Rugan - Explicit

How To Keep a Man and Lose a Devil. In progress. Explicit sexual content. Aradin makes a deal with Raphael. Concept and title credit to @crowwolf. Spin off fic, follows Parts 1 - 10 (One Night Stand to Ten Out of Ten).

What if Aradin pushed Zevlor too far. Explicit sexual content, dubious consent. ZevlorxAradin. Aradin is a piece of shit. Zevlor puts him in his place. Secret Santa.

A One Night Stand at The Blushing Mermaid. Explicit sexual content, dubious consent. RuganxAradin. Rugan finds a way to shut Aradin up.

A Second Night Stand at The ElfSong Tavern. Explicit sexual content, dubious consent. Aradin hasn't learned his lesson. In appreciation for @benicemurphy.

A Third Night Stand Under the Stars. Explicit sexual content, dubious consent. Aradin hits rock bottom. Rugan reluctantly tries to help him get his shit together. In appreciation for Merdyr.

Fourth Time's A Charm. Explicit sexual content. Rugan is tasked by the Zhent to kill Aradin. It doesn't quite go to plan. Requested by @fangbanger3000

Five Times Too Many. Explicit sexual content. Rugan and Aradin would've been best if they never met again. But they did. In appreciation for @lizziemajestic.

Six Times to Say Goodbye. Explicit sexual content. Rugan and Aradin meet for last time (lies). They've a few things to get sorted out. In appreciation of everyone's support.

Seven Times at Night, Once in the Morning. Explicit sexual content. Rugan and Aradin reconnect with actual mature conversation and sex. Rugan catches feels. In appreciation of Octoberskyies.

Eight Times to Get It Right. Explicit sexual content. There's a lot unsaid and unresolved. Time to say it and resolve it. In appreciation of @faerieologymajor and @vera-king-hrfl. Inspired by ideas from @fangbanger3000, @benicemurphy, and @lizziemajestic.

Nine Times to a Confession. Explicit sexual content. Time for love and making love. In appreciation of @forget-me-maybe and bepisfan69.

Ten Out of Ten. A Perfect Score / Too Good to Be True. Explicit sexual content, Major character death, Graphic depictions of violence. The End. In appreciation for @lemonsrosesandlavender, @theycallmeratt, and rolypoly.

At The Eleventh Hour. Explicit sexual content. Bonus mini chapter. Declarations of love. Finally. Inspired by @benicemurphy.

A Twelfth Night. Explicit sexual content. Aradin uses Speak With Dead.

Lucky Number Thirteen. Explicit sexual content. A Happy Ending.

Love Confession Character Analysis (not explicit)

Brew, love? Rugan and Aradin drink some tea. Fluff, slice of life.

Oneshots with Other People's Tavs - Various Ratings

The Night at Last Light Inn. Explicit sexual content, Rolan and M!Tav, Nox, share a passionate night, belonging to and in collaboration with @bihanny.

Memories of Clover. Explicit sexual content, drama & romance with @azrielsbbg's F!Tav, Clover, winner of a Rolan fic giveaway.

Touch of The Tempest. Mature. Rolan tries to teach f!Tav, Nuelith, to control her magic, and triggers a terrifying loss of control. For Mandi.

A Wizard Keeps His Word. Mature. Atop the Elder Brain, Gale sacrifices himself for his lovers f!tav, Kira, and Astarion. For @callmesimplyflo.

Happily Ever After. General, Astarion and Ghost (m!Tav), in domestic bliss. Secret Santa for Eddie.

Despair. Deliberation. Defiance. Mature. The Dark Urge is confronted and comforted by Jay, f!Tav, after slaying a tiefling bard. For jayofthenorth.

Rolan Lore / Head Canon - General

Rolan romantic line suggestion

Descent into Avernus / BG3 theme

Player-is-evil Rolan ending suggestion

Letters from Rolan

Auntie Ethel Vicious Mockery 1

Auntie Ethel Vicious Mockery 2

Rolan, Cal, and Lia react to Ramazith's Tower bathroom

Environment in Ramazith's Tower post-game

Ramazith's Tower post-game part 2

Rolan 'dating service video script'

Rolan's Hair

Cal's Hair

Cal post-game

Other Oneshots - Various Ratings

What if Lorroakan was Named Larry Pickle. Mature, Comedy with a lot of silliness and 4th wall breaks.

In Memory of Kanon. General, Kanon, no!

Commissioned and Gifted Art

Commissioned art for The Elturian Prodigy by Alvin Asiaten.

A beautiful three panel sexually explicit comic based on the intimate scene in Chapter 35 of the 'What if' fic by Lexindre.

A favourite scene from the 'What if' fic, Lexindre drew this incredible piece from Chapter 36 as a birthday gift.

[pookasluagh]

Fanfic Writer Interview

I got tagged by @curiouspupsicle for this little AO3 author interview thingy, and I’m avoiding writing the next hard chapter in one of my WIPs, so here goes!

What fandoms do you write in? Good Omens! I’d never written fanfic before S2 took over my brain, so this is my sole (soul!) fandom. How many words have you published in 2024? So far I’ve published 337,617 words this year but have several chapters of two WIPs still left to post before the year’s end.

What is your greatest achievement this year? In writing? Well, my fic This Phantom Life was a really important one for me. I call it a trauma-dump fic, but essentially, this was a story that allowed me to process a decade’s worth of grief to emerge lighter on the other side. That’s not the only reason it was an achievement, though. Through this fic, I connected with so many other members of the community in a deep and rich way: I entered a beta-partnership with fellow GO author @ineffablerainstorm, rejoined tumblr to become more connected with people in the fandom, formed multiple long-lasting friendships, and had deep, enriching conversations about many hard topics with readers on AO3. While Phantom is not the easiest story to read as it deals with dark topics, it’s probably the best novel I’ve ever written, fanfic or original.

What are your favorite top three fics you wrote this year? If I include one-shots and my two WIPs that won’t finish until next year, I have six fics out from 2024. My favorites are:

This Phantom Life (AU focused on heavy topics such as self-harm, DV, and transphobia)

Rapture on the Seas (AU crack fic about mistaken identities set on a cruise ship)

Dead Right (AU pure fluff pining-while-married fic with a dash of neurospicy/SPD)

What was your biggest pit of despair moment? When I began writing fanfic in September 2023, it was the first time I’d written anything in many years due to trauma/grief. During those years, I believed I’d never write again, when I’d been writing since childhood. Once I began with fanfic, I wrote so much so quickly, and after six novel-length fics in ten months, I burnt out. I was so scared that I was losing the spark and would stop writing altogether that I kept trying, forcing out words that were wrong in stories that went nowhere. It was devastating. Really, I just needed some time off, and after I gave that to myself, the words flowed again.

What have you learned? Do not have two novel-length fics in progress at the same time, no matter how many buffer chapters you think you have. Buffer chapters get eaten fast! Also, take time to recoup between stories. Burnout is real.

What three fics have you read this year that you love? Yeah, no can do on the whole “three” thing. Here are my top ten fics NOT written by my GO-besties (who will get tagged below to fill this out instead!). In the order that I read them:

thought we saw true in the bright youth by @eidetictelekinetic

Slow Show by @mia-ugly

Pray for Us, Icarus by @brightwanderer

Or Be Nice by @charlottemadison42

Rearrangements by SheenDav

Free by @maaikeatthefullmoon

But, Soft! by @on1occasionfork

Crowley Family Values by @ezomind-the-other-one

The Painted Veil by @createserenity

You’re the Bad Guys by @alphacentaurinebula (technically this is still in progress but the author literally yanked fantasies out of my brain so it’s going here!)

What ideas are percolating for next year? I have three things potentially on the docket for 2025. The first is a post-S2 canon fic that involves a reversal of fates for Crowley (now the new Supreme Archangel that he never wanted to be) and Aziraphale (a new demon who doesn’t quite fit, the way Crowley never did). The second is a collaboration AU with @ineffablerainstorm, based on Pride & Prejudice where Aziraphale is a photographer and Crowley a journalist. The third is that I want to go back and illustrate a few of my former fics. I’d love to write the sequel to Tender Morsels as well, but I’m trying to go a bit easier on myself in 2025!

Alright friends – I’d love to see you fill this out even if you didn’t write 3+ fics in 2024! @ineffablerainstorm @beerok23 @somewhere-in-wales

[annabawritersdream]

Hallmark Christmas Fanfic

Prompt: Hallmark Christmas fanfic=>“Almost kiss but somebody walks in.” [Prompt provided by @lucifers-legions]

Title: My One & Only

Characters: Éomer, Lothíriel, Éothain

Pairings: Éomer x Lothíriel

CW: none

Synopsis: Éomer and Lothíriel are decorating the Christmas tree and discussing

gingerbread houses when an unannounced visitor shows up at their place.

Word count: (AO3 stats=>3,297 words)

Also posted on AO3!

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION AND NOTES

This is my first time writing Éomer and Lothíriel, so I really don't know what I am doing. I usually struggle when it comes to writing canon pairings, which is why I mostly tend to focus on my OCs and the few canon characters I feel I know how to write. The prompt was suggested by my friend and Tumblr mutual luciferslegions (@lucifers-legions on Tumblr) as a part of a Hallmark roulette game she came up with. The participants were meant to write a story based on two random canon characters and a random prompt. I got Éothíriel (I suppose I was lucky) and my prompt was "Almost kiss, but somebody walks in." I am generally not very good at writing couples, kissing scenes, smut and the likes, but this was something I felt I could try my hand at. I hope it's not too bad/cringy and if it is...be kind about it. Do let me know what you think ( I am all for honesty and transparency), but, please, be civil about it.

Also, Lothíriel's last name is Swann in this (Yes, like Elizabeth Swann from Pirates of the Caribbean). Originally it was supposed to be "Amroth", but then I thought Swann was a much better fit, both because it sounds much more like a modern last name and because…y'know, the Swan Knights of Dol Amroth. I decided to go with Éomer Eorl because…it sounds good to me.

That being said, I hope you enjoy the story!

My One & Only

“I think we are finished.”

Lothíriel Swann stood on her toes as she attempted to carefully place the newly-chosen ornament—a giant golden swan—on the very top of the huge Christmas tree her boyfriend, Éomer Eorl, had gifted her a few weeks prior. Although he had enjoyed decorating the house with lights, wreaths, stockings and ribbons, he failed to understand why he should put so much effort into embellishing a pine tree that would eventually have to be discarded. He quite simply could not wrap his head around it and had tried to reason with his girlfriend about it. Unfortunately, Lothíriel would not hear of it, and had forced him to participate in what he considered to be an unnecessarily strenuous and laborious activity. He had set up the tree for her and had patiently helped choose the most beautiful ornaments, which included several handmade horse-shaped knick-knacks. Those very same ornaments had been a Christmas present from Lothíriel and Éomer had grinned in satisfaction.

Although he loathed Christmas trees, he adored gifts and had surprised Lothíriel with plenty of them. She usually could not do without formal gowns and pearl necklaces and Éomer had made sure she received them in abundance. She was now wearing the latest dress he had gifted her—a silk gown matching her dark hair—and a silver bracelet was visible on her wrist. Éomer’s gifts also included the triple strand white pearl necklace presently adorning her neck and the tiny moon-shaped earrings she had slept on. She usually removed her make-up and took off all of her jewelry before bed, yet, because she had fallen asleep on the couch after crying her eyes out over a rom-com of which Éomer could not even remember the title, she had neglected to do so and had woken up complaining of an excruciating headache supposedly due to sleep deprivation. While Éomer had initially laughed it off, he had been quick to change his tune after meeting his girlfriend’s piercing gray eyes. She was vexed—terribly vexed—and a single look from her had been enough to convince him to run off to the kitchen to make her a kale smoothie. Despite being a voracious meat eater, he supported Lothíriel’s decision to follow a plant-based diet and often cooked her breakfast separately. Contrarily to his girlfriend, he had always been an early bird and found that waking up at dawn suited him much better than sleeping in. He started his mornings with a cup of black coffee and devoured a giant egg, bacon and cheese sandwich before hitting the gym. He believed in keeping fit and, because Lothiriel appeared to greatly appreciate his abs among a plethora of physical and intellectual attributes he seemingly possessed, he trained hard and diligently. Though he usually displayed a tough persona, he was sensitive and insecure at heart. While it was true that he sometimes struggled to show it, he truly loved Lothíriel and he feared losing her. She was a gem, and he dreaded the day she would be snatched away from him. He did not doubt it would happen. He knew all about her many admirers back in her hometown and was aware of his inferiority. He was reminded of it every day. All of his girlfriend’s suitors happened to be way richer and influential than he would ever be and thought of Lothíriel possibly eloping with one of them caused him immense distress.

Although he was himself affluent, he despised people flaunting an extravagant lifestyle and much preferred to work rather than lounging around in mansions accomplishing nothing and, thankfully, Lothíriel seemed to share his opinion on such matter. Despite appearances, she was a well-rounded girl who took delight in the simple things life had to offer. She adored sipping hot chocolate in her pajamas and was her happiest at the local animal shelter. Although at first fearful of horses, she had learned to coexist peacefully with them, which pleased Éomer greatly. He was involved in several horse-trading businesses and had grown up in his family’s country home, tending to chickens and horses being very much a pivotal part of his daily life. He had been raised among strays and indoor pets and was beyond pleased to see Lothíriel trying to overcome her anxiety and spontaneously interacting with them. None of her friends in Dol Amroth—former college roommates and childhood pals alike—seemed to have a penchant for nature and country life. They were club goers who drove around in expensive cars and squandered money because they could afford it. Lothíriel had vouched for them, but,judging by the way her jaw tightened whenever she spoke about them, she too thought them to be shallow and worthless. Éomer remembered that conversation; a casual chat as they drove back to Rohan after spending a few weeks with Lothíriel’s relatives. He had become acquainted with her brothers and her aunts and had enjoyed fishing with her father. Imrahil Swann, a rather well-known entrepreneur, had at first disliked the young blond boy his only daughter seemed to be so keen on. Despite wearing his finest suit and having an undeniable presence to him, Imrahil had immediately sensed that he would not at all fit into the world the Swann family was a part of. Though he had grown to like him, he still doubted his relationship with his daughter would last.

Little did he know that Éomer wished to marry her. He had been playing all night with the engagement ring, which he had carefully hidden in the pocket of his jacket and had intended to wait until Christmas to propose. He would so on Christmas Eve after attempting to cook a scrumptious dinner. Or perhaps he should ask for her hand during dinner. He had not yet decided the dynamics of the affair and had not even written or practiced his speech, but he knew it would happen one way or another. He just needed to wait for inspiration to strike. He just needed to wait for the right moment…

“Darling?”

Éomer blinked and let out a sigh as he pensively ran hand through his hair. “Yes? Have you…”

He cleared his throat in embarrassment. “Have you said anything?”

Lothíriel frowned, visibly confused. “Are you alright?”

“Of course.”

“Have you been listening to me?”

“I…”

“What is it? Why are you sulking?”

“I am not,” he retorted. “I…”

“I thought you liked setting up the tree with me. We can certainly spend our time together doing something else if you are bored.”

“I am not bored; I was simply thinking.”

Lothíriel hugged him. “What were you thinking about?”

Éomer gulped. He certainly could not tell her the truth and quick thinking had never been his forte. His eyes wandered around as she tightened her grip around his waist, his heartbeat quickening.

“I was…admiring your beauty. You have never looked better.”

She kissed the tip of his nose and giggled. “I never thought you would have such great taste in clothing and jewelry. If I look pretty today—or any day, for that matter—it is only because of you.”

“That is a stretch, my dear.”

She caressed his face. “Not at all, my love. You constantly spoil me.”

“It is my duty. I am your boyfriend, after all.”

“Oh, you are indeed.”

She smiled at him and rested her head on his shoulder. “Could you help me with the gingerbread house and the chocolate chip cookies? Christmas is only a few days away and I am so behind schedule.”

“Did I hear you say gingerbread house?”

“You heard it correctly.”

Éomer chuckled. “Forgive me, darling. I am a bit surprised.”

“What is wrong with gingerbread houses?”

He raised an eyebrow. “As far as I know, you loathe ginger in any shape or form.”

“It is not for me to eat.”

“I am confused. Who is it for? You know very well that I don’t particularly like…”

“Elboron adores gingerbread and so does your sister. I thought it would be a nice gift.”

“I am ashamed to admit I had not even thought of my sister and my nephew. I am a horrible uncle.”

“Elboron loves you very much. You shouldn’t beat yourself too much over it. He won’t kill you if you show up to my cousin’s house empty-handed. That is, if you play with him all night and read him his favorite bedtime story.”

“Elboron may not kill me, but I cannot say the same about my sister.”

“She seems so kind, I doubt she would…”

“How much time have you spent with her in your lifetime?”

“Why would you ask?”

“Well, I…”

“I may not know her all that well, but she was always nice to me.”

“You are not related to her, are you not?”

A wide-eyed Lothíriel stared at him. “What are you trying to imply?”

“I grew up with her.”

“And? What about it?”

“She delighted in reprimanding me when we were children and her attitude over the years has not changed in the slightest.”

“Perhaps you deserved it.”

Éomer rolled his eyes. “May I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead, my love.”

“Must you always side with my sister?”

“I trust her judgement.”

“What about my judgement? My sister is brash and impulsive, I am known for my common sense.”

“Is that so?”

“A few people could testify in my favor.”

“Pray tell me, my love. Would those people be those friends of yours from your military days?”

“I have tons of friends, my shining star. And, yes, I would definitely count them in. They are all responsible people with whom I have a history of camaraderie.”

“Which is precisely why I would not trust them.”

“Why would you…”

“I’d rather ask Faramir.”

“You are just messing with me right now, Lothy. I was serious.”

“So was I.”

She grinned and smirked. “Faramir cannot lie. He is impartial and would never take sides.”

“Do I need to remind you that he is a law student?”

“And a very good one, at that.”

He glared at her before the corners of his mouth eventually turned upward.

“I presume you are aware that taking sides is what all that he will do once he graduates. It is the bulk of his chosen career.”

“Of course I am aware of it, my silly little pumpkin head. I only meant to say that he would never meddle in family affairs.”

“What did you call me? Pumpkin head? If you must insult me, at least try and come up with something a bit more Christmassy. It’s been more than few weeks since Halloween.”

"Nothing comes to mind at the moment, my love. I will look through a dictionary and then I'll let you know. What else were you going to say about my cousin? I know you were about to say something else, darling. Don't be shy."

“He...he has a laid-back vibe about him, I am not going to lie. I am rather fond of him.”

“I am glad to hear it. Faramir and I are pretty close and I really hoped you would get along.”

“I like him. He’s learned and intelligent. I still have no idea how he persuaded my sister to marry, but I applaud his effort.”

He paused. “Then again, he is studying to become a lawyer. He must certainly have a way with words.”

“Are you suggesting he tricked her into marriage?”

“I am saying nothing of the sort. It is just that…”

He sighed. “Why don’t we get started on the gingerbread house?”

He turned and walked toward the kitchen, Lothíriel strutting behind him. “Wait.”

Éomer froze and turned back, Lothíriel’s eyes cold and stern. He gulped.

“What is it? What have I done?”

Lothíriel did not reply, her gaze fixed on him. Éomer stumbled backwards, a shiver running down his spine.

“I did not mean to offend your cousin. As I mentioned earlier, I have a great deal of respect for him and I could never slander him. He’s my sister’s husband and…”

His jaw was clenched. “I just…sometimes I…”

He cleared his throat and exhaled, his lower lip quivering. “I feel as if…”

He leaned on the wall behind him, his hands shaking Lothíriel’s features softened as she held his arm. “What is going on?”

He gulped once more.

“Will I ever be enough for you? Will my love ever be enough? Your friends in Dol Amroth are all so accomplished and I…”

“Éomer…”

“Your father, your brothers, your cousin…”

“Why are you comparing yourself to them?”

“I don’t think I…”

“Had I wanted to stay in Dol Amroth, I would have made it known. Had I wished to date someone else, I would have told you. Yet I didn’t.”

“I cannot understand why one as beautiful as you would be with someone like me.”

“I never agreed with the theory stating that blond people are stupid, yet I may have to retract my statement. You truly are an idiot.”

The light in his eyes was quenched; his hand reaching for the ring in his pocket. He closed his fist around him, his head tilted to the side.

“I am sorry. I should have…”

“And, on top of it, you should get your eyesight checked because I am positive that you are blind. I should buy you a cane.”

“Why are you being so mean all of a sudden? Do you agree with them?”

“I see now.” She quipped. “A cane is indeed an appropriate choice of gift.”

“Just answer my question please. There is no need to mock me.”

“Have you ever heard of sarcasm?”

“Lothíriel…”

“Either you are blind or you’ve never owned a mirror, darling. Probably both.”

“Please stop it.”

“Why can’t you see it!?”

“See what, Lothíriel? What is it that you would like me to realize!? You want me to admit that I am not worthy of you, that you wasted your time, your youth, your…”

“I want you to realize what a gorgeous, remarkable, intelligent young man you are.”

She breathed in. “I want you to realize that there is no other I would ever even consider being with. I want you to realize that you are the only man on the planet that I would ever be prevailed upon to marry. I want you to realize that I have been dreaming of our lives together ever since we were introduced at that silly Christmas buffet two years ago. I want you to realize that I would like for us to start a family as soon as possible.” She looked at him. “You are my one and only, Éomer Eorl. Ever since I glanced at you, I knew you were the man for me and I am so grateful I went out of my way to attend that buffet.” She chuckled. “I suppose I should thank my aunt Ivriniel for her persuasion skills.”

“You…you really mean it? You truly want to…marry me?”

Lothíriel rolled her eyes and kissed him on the cheek before he had time to come up with any more nonsense. He blushed, his eyes now wide.

“Oh my, you are so cute.” She scratched his blonde stubble. “Also, please, don’t forget to shave.”

Éomer frowned. “I thought you liked my beard.”

A smirk appeared on Lothíriel’s face. “I love everything about you, my love. Even so, your beard irritates my skin.”

“Must I shave before kissing you?”

“It would be much appreciated.”

She sighed. “For the record, I do think Faramir would side with your sister. If she ever crosses the line, she will have to face me. My wrath can be as deadly as hers.”

“I have never seen you angry.”

“Be thankful for it, my darling. Be thankful.” She leaned on him. “Do we really have to make the gingerbread house?”

“We don’t have to unless we want you.”

“Elboron will be so disappointed…”

“He’ll get over it. He is my sister’s son and he is nearly as strong-willed and stubborn as she is, but he’ll survive. He is still getting chocolate chip cookies after all, is he not?”

“Oh yes. I will happily make those. I love chocolate.”

“I will help you. Just try not to eat all the dough by yourself.”

“I do not know if I can help it.”

“Share some with be, I beg you.”

“I shall think about it.”

“What is there to think about?”

“I was told you may be on the naughty list and I don’t plan to share anything with naughty boys.”

“Me? Naughty? I am the nicest boy who ever lived!”

“Are you though? Are you really?”

“I…”

“You certainly deserve a kiss, then.”

“I haven’t shaved…”

“It matters not.”

She cupped her cheeks and brought her face close to his, her eyes fixed on his lips. She moved her even closer to and he slightly bent his knees and picked her up. It was then that they both heard a loud knock. They turned abruptly as someone cried out their names. Éomer clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes.

“I so wish murder was allowed.”

Éothain, Eomer’s cousin, was standing  by the window. Éomer folded his arms and glared at him while Lothíriel rushed to the door. She quickly opened it and greeted him warmly as he handed her the tray.

“Do come in! It is cold outside!”

Éothain took off his boots. “My truck wouldn’t start so I had to walk all the way here. I am sorry to disturb, but I thought you’d like some leftover turkey and some roasted vegetables I made for lunch. I know my cousin is fond of them.” He winked at him. “Hello, cousin!”

“My girlfriend and I were having a moment and you…”

“I am sorry! How was supposed to know you were about to make out?”

“We were NOT about to make out.”

Éothain’s eyes widened. “Were you perhaps about to…ugh…”

“NO!”

“There is need to shout, cousin, my hearing is perfectly fine!”

“Why are you here, Éothain!?”

“I told you, I just wanted to say hi and bring in some leftovers. I also happen to have a gingerbread recipe which someone told me may be useful in this household.”

Lothíriel froze, her hands nearly dropping the tray.

“YOU.”

“Yes?”

“SHARE IT AT ONCE. PLEASE. HELP ME.”

“It would be my pleasure, my lady.”

He jokingly bowed to her and laughed, Éomer tossing a cushion at him. Éothain looked at him, bewildered. “Why did you…? Where did you find that?”

“I saw you were busy talking to my girlfriend so I took the liberty to go to the sitting room to fetch something to shut you up.”

“It hurt, cousin. Please don’t you ever do it again.”

“It was the comfiest, fluffiest cushion I could find!”

“It still hurt!”

Oh, don’t be a baby.”

“I am just saying that…”

Lothíriel stomped her feet. “Would you mind helping me in the kitchen?”

She glanced at Éothain. “I am going to need help. Come with me.”

“What about…?”

“My most excellent boyfriend can finish decorating the guest room upstairs. It is his favorite holiday activity. Isn’t that right, my love?”

Éomer’s face dropped.

“I thought we were finished with the tree.”

“Oh, yes, the tree needs no more embellishments. I reckon it is perfect as it is. All the rooms on the second floor need lights though.”

“Lothy…”

“Off you go, darling.”

Éomer sighed.

 “Fine. As you wish.”

Lothíriel and Éothain soon disappeared into the kitchen. Éomer hesitated and lounged on the couch until an overwhelming sense of guilt took over him. He then hurried up the stairs, mumbling and scoffing at nearly every step.

“I hate Christmas. I really do hate it.”

Faceclaims:

Karl Urban as Éomer

Katie McGrath as Lothíriel

This is more or less the dress I though she'd be wearing on such an occasion. Cute, classy and elegant.

Arnas Fedaravicious as Éothain (as he does not appear in any other writings of mine, I sort of picked a random dude so that he would have a face, but, on second thoughts, he doesn't look too bad. He'd make a good Éothain. Although I don't plan for him to show up in my Middle-earth AUs…I mean, why not. Who knows. Why shouldn't I include him in my writings? He only needs a storyline that makes sense).

That's it! I hope you liked it and…Happy Holidays, everyone!

Tags:

@lucifers-legions

@emmanuellececchi

@saurongorthaur9

@tolkienocweek