#then life took over with work and university and wips

[lokimobius]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by the lovely @elodiah <3

I'm still working on my next door neighbours au. Currently it's looking like it might be two chapters, but we'll see! I don't think I'll be posting it until it's completely written though.

I may or may not have written Mobius as a bit of a disaster gay in this part of the fic. He only has a "tiny crush" on his neighbour; it's nothing serious, of course... Don't judge him!!!!! He's a repressed university professor. His life doesn't get much more exciting than this!

His eyes widened when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. His hair was tousled messily at the back of his head from where he’d been lying on his sofa all morning. A shiver ran down his spine. Had he really answered the door like this? He pulled at it nervously, trying to make it more presentable, which only made it look strangely neat. “Damn it!” He grumbled under his breath. “You got a serious case of helmet head, Mobius.” He ran both hands through his hair and tousled it, this time going for a more deliberate dishevelled look. After having the same hairstyle for most of his life, his friends had convinced him to try growing his hair out. They promised him that it would look good, and they were right. It was a good look for him. However, he still had no idea how to style it. Normally, the way he looked wouldn't bother him, but he was about to have the most put together person he'd ever seen in his apartment. He gave his hair a final smoothing over, silently cursing himself for not making more of an effort with his appearance in the first place. In his defence, he hadn’t been expecting guests today, let alone Loki. A loud knock at the front door interrupted his preening, and he jumped, his heart thudding in his chest. “Shit!” He bared his teeth at his reflection quickly. Did he have anything in them? Did his moustache look okay? Were his glasses on straight? Oh god, he was wearing his glasses. No one was supposed to see him in these. He took them off and threw them onto his sofa as he raced past it to unlock the door. Loki stood outside in his slippers and robe, holding a fluffy green towel and what looked like a cosmetic pouch in his arms.

No pressure tags to: @loki-is-my-kink-awakening @kcscribbler @in-my-loki-feels @thosegayoldmen

@silentxsymphony @devilbearingtrouble @andthekitchensinkao3

[normspellsman]

A Lesson in Pinky Promises

part one | part two (wip)

pairing: jake sully x daughter!reader

genre: angst to fluff & comfort (from jake to reader)

word count: 3.3k+

warning(s): mentions of reader being bullied for looks – reader has 5 fingers, kids being mean, physical + verbal harassment, reader being sad, reader feeling like she doesn’t fit in, jake calling reader babygirl (cuteness overload fr), mentions of self inflicted injuries, mentions of children hurting you, reader looks up to jake + feels unworthy of being the heir of the olo’eyktan title, jake being angry, cursing, both jake + reader crying, & reader having self-loathing thoughts / being mean to herself

request details: here!

taglist: @aonungsmate @optimisticblazetrash @dearstell @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @minkyungseokie @universal-s1ut @goodiesinthecloset21 @amortencjja @blushhpeachh @sweetirilly @liyahsocorro @arminsgfloll @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic @bigdikzaddy @cheyehc @ihave500hubbiez

word bank: sempul — father, sempu — daddy (term of endearment), ‘evenge — girl, sa’nok — mother, eywa / great mother — goddess deity that the na’vi believe in, toruk — last shadow; large winged creature jake rode in the first film, syulang — flower, & ‘angtsìk — hammerhead titanothere

note: the reader is the eldest child of jake in this fic & is around 11-12 years old. set wayyy before the events of atwow. there will be a part 2 to this since someone requested something similar to this but w/ lo’ak & i couldn’t pass up the opportunity 🤭. be on the lookout for part 2 <3

You wished that you were more like your Father.

Your Father held this kind of confidence wherever he went. You guessed being Olo’eyktan would do that to you over time. He took every insult and objection to his rule with stride. You wanted to be like him one day, especially since you were the next in line for his position when he decided it was time for him to step down.

But it was hard. Really hard. The children around your age loved teasing you for your ten fingers and ten toes. They often pulled at your pinky and tried to pry it from your hand, giggling at how it looked and your reaction to it, hissing in pain as they basically almost dislocated the finger. They also reached out towards your hairy eyebrows, plucking at them to observe the strange hair further. Many had also called you demon or fake due to your mixed heritage. They loved making your life hell and took joy in hurting your feelings with their harsh words. Of course they never dared to do anything like that around your parents or siblings, deciding to do it whenever you were alone or training.

You felt insecure about your five fingers, often trying to hide it or make it look more like the other four fingered hands of your fellow acquaintances. You’ve injured yourself a couple of times trying to hide your pinky, bruising it or spraining it multiple times. You never meant to hurt yourself but it always happened whenever you did it. You just wished you looked more like the children your age than your Father.

You absolutely loved your Father and looked up to him so much. But it was hard looking like him when his past kind had caused so much pain and suffering to your Mothers people. It was a constant reminder that you had to work twice as hard as compared to your younger brother, Neteyam, to get the acceptance of The People. They always had their eyes on you, watching your every move, ready to criticize everything you did wrong. Nothing was ever good for them. Not good enough to live up to your Father, to be the next leader of your clan.

You never told your parents about how you felt or what the children your age did, dealing with it yourself. It wasn’t very good that you kept it to yourself but you felt like you had no choice. You didn’t want to worry your parents with what was happening, didn’t want to seem weak in front of them. You wanted to be strong like your Mother and Father, strong heart like those before you. Surely both of your parents experienced more traumatizing things throughout their lifetime than what you were going through. You could handle it yourself.

But, alas, you failed at having it handled.

Hours prior to where you were currently, crying as you cradled yourself with your knees to your chest, was probably one of the worst things you’ve experienced throughout your whole twelve years of life.

The regular group of bullies that teased and hurt you had taken it to the extreme, encircling you as they pushed you around and yelled insults at you, eventually grabbing at whatever body limb they could and punching it with as much strength they could muster. At the end, you were covered in bruises and bloody. You were pretty sure your right pinky was broken, it being stepped on by a kid you sure was named Keno.

You limped all the way to your secret hideout, delaying going home as much as you could. You had the plan of cleaning and patching yourself up with the limited supplies you had stashed away before going home late into the night. You were probably going to stay hidden for another hour or so, way past when you’re supposed to be home and were probably going to do that for the next couple of days before you healed completely. You didn’t need either of your parents to fret after your every move if they found out.

What you didn’t know was that your Father had seen you rush out into the thick foliage of the forest, calling out your name, which you didn’t hear. So, he followed you.

Jake had tried his best to stay quiet, expertly stepping over rogue twigs and sticks that were strewn across the forest floor. He kept his breathing steady as he urged forward, staying far enough behind you so that your enhanced senses couldn’t sense his presence but close enough to still see where you were going. He knew that he probably shouldn’t be following you, but his Father instincts were telling him to follow after you. There was something clawing at Jake that told him you were not okay.

Growing up, you told your Sempul everything. There was nothing that you kept from your Father and he felt his heart swell every time you ran up to him, bouncing with excitement as you hurriedly told him everything about your day or something new you just learned in training. He’d always scoop you up in his arms and tickle your belly before lending a listening ear to you, hanging on to every word you spoke. Jake missed the days where you would come to him and just talk. Recently, your visits had become few and far in between. Of course he acknowledged that you were growing older and needed to keep some things to yourself, but he couldn’t help but feel that there was something else that was keeping you from reaching out to your Sempul. And he knew that following you to wherever the hell you were going was most likely going to reveal the reason why. At least, he hoped so. He just wanted to help you. You were his little girl and he’d do anything to make sure that you were safe and sound.

You stopped before a small clearing, discreetly checking over your shoulders in paranoia. You knew that no one had seen you rush out to the forest, but still, you needed to make sure of it before continuing on. Once you were satisfied that no one was around, you continued forth.

Jake wasn’t necessarily shocked to say the least when he saw where you were going. He was pretty sure that some kids came out here to do whatever the hell children did, but didn’t suspect you to be one of them. Lo’ak seemed to the one who would.

A few years back, when still dealing with the aftermath of the RDA’s equipment and all the shit they left behind, the clan had decided to leave alone some of their labs or established campsites, marking it as outskirts of the forest where children were not allowed to visit. And you had claimed the closest one to Home Tree. Well, it wasn’t completely yours but you were the one who frequented it the most so you found it suiting to call it your hideout.

The Olo’eyktan shook his head as he watched you open the metal door with a small grunt, walking inside while holding your side in a pained expression that Jake missed as your back faced towards him.

Every inch of your body ached. You were more than certain that multiple bruises covered your azure skin and that scratches from your bullies' pushes and nails littered its expanse. It sucked. Being treated this way by people who you were supposed to lead one day. Feeling like you weren’t enough to become clan leader when the Great Mother deemed it necessary. It all made you feel like perhaps Neteyam was more deserving of the title, albeit him being only eight years old. In your eyes, he was the perfect image of what a true Na’vi should be. Four fingers on each hand and foot, no eyebrows on his brow bones, and he practically oozed confidence and leadership whereas you, you were you. A five-fingered freak who will only ever be seen as outcast, alien, and a monster. Your entire existence was a reminder of what the sky people did to the natives of Pandora. Of what they stole from them. Of the lives they greedily took. How could you be a leader to people who only ever saw you as such? Who didn’t even want you there in the first place?

“Fuck!” You hissed, hot electric pain shooting up your entire body as you attempted to clean the wounds scattered across your skin. It didn’t help that you only had one working hand as well. It hurt too much to move your right hand, your pinky always wanting to follow its fellow fingers in whatever movement you did. So, you opted to just use your left for addressing your wounds, which was a much harder task than you thought.

Fucking pathetic, you thought, getting angry at yourself. You couldn’t take one little beating without crying and groaning in pain. What kind of future leader are you? You’re supposed to be strong. Take beatings in stride.

You were abruptly pulled from your self-loathing thoughts with a loud cough, making you freeze in your spot. As your eyes slowly traveled to your Fathers figure in the doorway of the metal infrastructure, you knew that you were fucked. Like, really fucked.

Anxiety exploded within your chest, causing you to gulp, trying to swallow it down so you didn’t seem weak in front of your seemingly impenetrable Father. He was everything you wanted to be. Everything you couldn’t be.

“What is this?” He asks, voice surprisingly calm. He hadn’t been able to properly see your figure when he followed you through the dark forest, not seeing the full extent of your injuries. He didn’t even know that you were injured.

“Uh, nothing, just…got done with sparring and needed to clean myself up,” you responded, eyes never meeting those of Jake’s. You knew better not to. For if you did, you’d spill everything that happened to you and how you felt. You could never lie to your Sempul, which is why you tended to avoid him whenever you got into another scuffle with the other children.

Jake puts his hands on his hips as he stands there, not believing your words. You knew he wouldn’t. Your Father was great at knowing whether or not you were telling the truth, the avoidance of his gaze being one of them. His shadow from the door seemed towering and all consuming as it nearly reached your dangling toes from where you sat atop of a metal table.

“Do not lie to me, ‘evenge,” he grumbled, face scrunched into an unreadable expression. “What happened? Why are you bleeding?” He continued, serious concern laced within his voice. Jake didn’t even need to take a handful of steps before he was in front of you, kneeling to match your height.

You refused to speak, eyes looking everywhere except for your Fathers face. You just couldn’t. You needed to be strong, strong heart at this moment. For if you didn’t, you’d feel as if you were too weak for your birthright.

The man in front of you sighed out, moving his head to try to catch your gaze, “Baby girl, please. Tell me what is wrong so Sempu can fix it,” he pleaded. He was so desperate to help you, you could hear it evident in his voice.

You shook your head as tears stung your eyes, tightly screwing them shut to prevent them from spilling out. But, your Father pleaded with you again.

“Please, baby girl. What happened? Why are you hurt?” He softly asked, tears pricking his own waterline as you refused to tell him anything. He felt like he did something wrong for you to not want to tell him what happened. Like he failed at being a Father. Was he not there enough for you? Did he say something to you that made you scared to open up to him? He racked his brain for a million things.

Hearing the crack of emotion within his voice is what persuaded you to break in front of your Father, tears continuously falling down your cheeks as they escaped from the corner of your eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jake cooed, bringing you into his arms, now fully seated on the cold floor as he brought you into his lap and wrapped his arms around you, gently running a hand through your hair in hopes to calm you down. Sobs racked your body and Jake felt helpless. He wanted to help you so badly but he couldn’t do anything without knowing the reason you were upset. It broke him to see his little girl like this.

“It’s okay, princess. Whatever it is, I swear Sempu won’t be mad. I just want to make it better,” he whispered, gently and slowly rocking from side to side, something he did frequently when you were a toddler and had trouble falling asleep. It never failed to make you sleepy and passed out in his arms when you were smaller.

Eventually, you caved and told him everything. How mean the other kids are. How they like to pull and tug at your pinky. How they routinely pick at you and beat you. How they beat you an hour prior and probably severely hurt you. How they love calling you colorful names. How small and insignificant they made you feel. You told him how inadequate you felt as the heir to his title. How much of a freak you were and how the People deserve a true leader, someone like Neteyam. How it felt like the whole world was on your shoulders. You let it all out. And by the end, you ran out of tears to cry and your body stopped shaking, hiccups escaping past your lips as you laid there wrapped up in your Fathers arms.

Jake listened as you cried and sobbed out how you felt and what was going on. How you felt like you had to hide what was happening in order to seem strong and worthy of being a leader. How you wanted to be strong like him and Neytiri. How you felt like you needed to deal with all of this on your own in order to feel like you deserved the title of heir to the Olo’eyktan throne. The more you spoke, the more Jake felt his heart break into two. He felt awful for not noticing how you were struggling. He was your Dad, he was supposed to know when you weren’t feeling well and coke comforted you. But instead, he became too consumed with his duties to the clan and neglected you in the process.

“Oh, my little star, I am so sorry,” Jake utters, tears falling down his face as he finally got you to break and bare your troubled spirit to him. He felt saddened at how you felt but angry towards the children who relentlessly teased you about your differences.

“You are not a freak or a monster. You are my daughter. A product of your Sa’nok and I’s love. You are a part of me as you are your Mother. You are a result of a story that will forever be known by the people of Pandora. You are the new hope for the future. You are every part Na’vi as the rest of your siblings. You are the fruit of those who came before you and proof that you are meant to be here, to be the next leader of your people,” he gently said, tone firm and serious. He meant every word that he said.

“Your spirit is strong, so is your heart. Strong heart,” he added, making you pull away from the safety and comfort of his neck to face him. You’d never thought you’d ever hear those two words come from his mouth. You never thought you were worthy enough to bare those words on your shoulders like your Mother and Father did. You felt comforted by his words, validated by them.

“I need you to promise me that you will tell me the next time you ever feel this way again, baby girl,” he commented, bringing up one of his hands as he extended his last finger and balled the rest up into a fist, “Pinky swear it.”.

Your eyebrows furrowed at the action, not knowing what it meant or what you were supposed to do. “A what?” You questioned, voice hoarse from all the sobbing you did.

“A pinky promise,” Jake answered, a small smile on his face, “It’s something humans did back on Earth. They did it to make promises together and ensure that no one breaks it.”.

You nodded in understanding, bringing out your non-injured pinky and wrapping it around your Father’s, giggling as he slightly tugged your intertwined fingers to make sure that the promise you made him was stable and unbreakable.

“You cannot break this promise, ‘evenge, or there will be consequences,” Jake commented, tone mixed with playfulness and seriousness.

“What will happen if I break it, Sempu?” You asked, slight worry laced within your voice. Your Mother always warned you to stay away from tawtute things, or things that were foreign in general. So Jake introducing something human to you made you nervous. A million things ran through your head as to what could happen to you if you broke the promise you just made with your Father, temporarily distracting you from your chaotic thoughts.

Jake smirked, the tip of his fangs poking out from his lips and catching on the flesh of the bottom one. “If you break the greatest oath there is, the pinky promise, then the great toruk will come down and snatch you up!” He exclaimed, head going in between your neck and shoulder to blow raspberries into your jugular, causing you to shriek out a giggle.

Your feeble attempts at trying to push away your Father from your sensitive neck were all for nought, shrieky giggles escaping your lips as he continued his attack on your neck as he brought up his free hand to tickle the side of your stomach, his other one still intertwined with your pinky.

“Okay! Okay!” You panted, finally pushing your Father from your poor neck, “I won’t ever break our pinky promise!”.

Jake laughed at your reaction, smiling as he brought up your still connected pinkies, “Good, I’d hate to lose you to the mighty toruk.”.

You giggled out in response as well, wiggled your small finger from your Fathers much larger and stronger one, placing it back into your lap. You had a big smile on your face, matching the one of your Fathers as he lovingly gazed down at you.

The relaxed atmosphere didn’t last for long though, your face dropping once the painful throbbing in your body returned. You forgot about the events that happened hours prior, your Father being a great distraction. But nothing sweet lasts forever.

Jake seemed to catch onto your now saddened mood, frowning along with you. He hated seeing you in pain, whether that be physically or mentally. He hated it.

“Want me to help you clean up, syulang?” He softly asked, pushing some of your braids away from your dropped face, hooking two of his fingers underneath your chin so you looked up at him.

You only nodded in response, wrapping your arms around the back of your Fathers neck before placing your head on his shoulder, seeking his warmth as comfort. Your body was no longer running on adrenaline and all of your injuries seemed to hit you like an ‘angtsìk. Pain and sleepiness was the only thing you were able to feel in the moment, letting out a little yawn against your Fathers azure skin.

“Okay, baby girl,” he whispered, putting one of his hands behind your head as he began to sit up, “I got you. Just sleep, okay? Sempu’s got you.”.

And sleep you did. You soundly slept as Jake quietly and gently cleaned the blood and dirt off your skin, promising to deal with the children that did this to you. No one would hurt his little girl and get away with it. He’d personally see to it that they won’t.

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 1: Angst with a happy ending

,,Me too." | @tami-ryver

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 1,748

Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Case Fic, Hunt Gone Wrong, Werewolves, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Major Character Injury, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Castiel's Angelic Grace (Supernatural), Angelic Grace (Supernatural), AngstAngst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Blood, Fictober 2023

Summary: The silence is unbearable. Not even insects can be heard in the darkness, not even moon shines down on their path. The only source of light they have are the flashlights they took from the Impala. Armed with silver knives and the demon knife, they walk deep in the darkness of the forest, in search of the place where the massacre took place.

I Want You to Know That I'm Awake (I Hope That You're Asleep) | @starstiels

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 2,192

Main Tags/Warnings: depressed!dean (heavily implied), post-canon, grief/mourning, hurt/comfort, first kiss, selectively mute dean, mental health issues, panic attack

Summary: Dean Winchester wants to cry. He wants to scream and yell and sob until his lungs give out and his eyes sting like needles.

The Covert Identity (WIP) | @rowanspn

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4,623 (22,561 updated)

Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, FBI Agent Dean Winchester, FBI Agent Sam Winchester, Florist Castiel (Supernatural), Crime Boss Lucifer (Supernatural), Kid Fic, Kid Jack Kline, Blood and Violence, Graphic depictions of violence

Summary: Dean Winchester loves his job; working as a secret agent has its perks. There is nothing quite like the thrill of saving people and hunting down criminals. And with his baby brother Sammy at his side, it’s a family business. However, when he and Sam are assigned to the case of Lucien Shurley, a suspected crime lord with a rap sheet a mile long, Dean’s semi-predictable life takes a turn for the unprecedented and over complicated. He and Sam must go undercover to investigate Lucien’s own family, his brothers Gabriel and Castiel, and his young son, Jack, to find out just how involved they truly are. As the stakes rise and the body count follows, it is up to Sam and Dean to solve the greatest mystery of their careers; who is Castiel Novak and what does he know?

he's gonna take my files | @autisticandroids

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6,191

Main Tags/Warnings: Dean Saves Cas from the Empty, Afterlife, Triangulation of Desire, Memories, Trauma, Hurt Cas, Canon Divergent, Canon Remix, Warnings in Author's Note

Summary: Dean goes to the Empty, where Cas is floating through his memories.

when doves cry | @watchinghimrakeleaves

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 6,821

Main Tags/Warnings: Human Castiel, Season/Series 09, Not Canon Compliant, Winchester Coping Mechanisms, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: When Dean asks Cas to leave the bunker, all he can do is hope that the fallen angel is safe and doing okay. But when he reaches out to Cas to check in, he's surprised by the anger he's met with. Forced to consider whether or not he made the right call, Dean must reckon with how to fix things between him and the man he worries he may have lost forever.

Forest Fever | @amaranthhiding

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8,586

Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Universe, Post-Ep 12x10, Monster of the Week, Hallucinations, Injured Castiel, Protective Dean, (Emotional) Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Praying, Angel Grace, Humor (mostly in the epilogue)

Summary: After the crushing events of episode 12x10 "Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets", Castiel is low on grace and morale. In an attempt to restore at least one of these two, Sam and Dean take him on a hunt. Things start going wrong when Sam gets injured and Cas seemingly disappears. They get worse when Dean turns from hunter to prey for something feeling far more at home in this dark, rainy forest than he does.

Send Me a Postcard | @blessyourhondahurley

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 10,387

Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel is Saved from the Empty, First Kiss, References to Depression, Bisexual Dean Winchester

Summary: Shortly after his rescue from the Empty, Cas hits the road late one night without telling anyone he's leaving. Two weeks later, a postcard arrives for Dean.

whisper your name without making a noise | @deancaskiss

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 12,577

Main Tags/Warnings: Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy, Muteness, Mute Dean Winchester, traumatic mutism, Mutism, Major Character Undeath, Dean Winchester to the Rescue, Dean Winchester Saves Castiel from the Empty, Dean Winchester Saves Castiel, Pining, POV Dean Winchester, Kissing, Boys Kissing, French Kissing, Rough Kissing, Gentle Kissing, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Romance, Drinking to Cope, Drinking Alcohol, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Getting Together, Dean Winchester is Not Okay, Happy Ending, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 15, Fix-It, Character Death Fix, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Castiel/Dean Winchester UST, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Takes Care of Castiel, The Empty (Supernatural), the handprint, Dean Winchester's Jacket

Summary: Losing Cas to the Empty felt like Dean was losing a piece of himself. I love you, Cas had said; and then he was gone before Dean got the chance to tell Cas how he felt. But Cas might have taken more than just Dean’s heart when the Empty ripped him away. Cas is gone, and so is Dean’s voice. Traumatic mutism: according to Sam and Eileen, Dean had been through a traumatic experience losing Cas and now he was mute. So, Eileen taught Dean sign language, and Sam bought notebooks for Dean to write out his thoughts. But Dean never stopped aching for Cas; praying to him every day and searching for a way to bring Cas home. When Dean finds a way into Empty, it’s a fight like he’s never fought before. Scream, Dean, scream, the Empty taunts. But Dean can’t stop until he’s rescued Cas, kissed his angel breathless, and told Cas the truth about how he feels—voice or no voice.

Taking one for the team | @artichokegarden

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16,846

Main Tags/Warnings: Case Fic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Stanford Era, Sex Worker Dean Winchester, Dubious Consent, Voyeurism, Kink Negotiation, Kink Discovery, Praise Kink, BDSM, Spanking, Whipping, Bath Sex, Hair Washing, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Abusive John Winchester, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, POV Castiel, Angst with a Happy Ending, Porn with Feelings

Summary: Cas blinked slowly. “Your father sent you to his friend’s sex club as bait for a sex monster. And you want me to find your lost memories of this for you?”

“Don’t you start, Cas. We need to find out what happened, or those women are as good as dead. If I wanted to listen to a load of crap about dad’s parenting choices, I’d have told all this to Sam in the first place, instead of biting his head off for asking. Let’s just agree he wasn’t winning father of the year for this one and let it go, okay?”

When women start going missing from sex clubs, Cas investigates Dean's memories of a Stanford-Era case and finds some secrets there that could help their relationship in the present.

this bitter nightcall | @abi-cosmos

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 32,514

Main Tags/Warnings: Djinn curse, Jealous Dean Winchester, Hallucinations, Unreliable narrator, Heavy angst, Implied Castiel/Mick Davies, Inappropriate smut, Dean doesn't know what's real, Love confessions, Post-season 12, Very brief almost major character death, Hurt/Comfort, Case fic, True love's kiss

Summary: Dean gets touched by a djinn, but it's all cool. Or, is it?

Forced to confront his desires, Dean's grip on reality slips. Leaving Castiel, Sam, and Mick Davies trying to find a way to save him before it’s too late.

If only they knew that the cure is right in front of them.

Gracefully Yours, Always | @thefandomsinhalor

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 39,815

Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergent, Episode: S09E10, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Temporary Blindness, Angelic Grace, Hurt Dean

Summary: As Dean hopelessly waits for Gadreel and Crowley to be expelled from Sam’s body, he and Castiel are unexpectedly ambushed by Malachi and the remainder of his soldiers, seeking retribution for what Castiel has done to his faction. Because Castiel gets gravely injured in the fight, Dean resists the urge to isolate himself, and instead returns to the bunker with his friend and Sam, determined to put an end to the fallen angel madness, and also, perhaps, try to understand why, after everything he’s done, Castiel still stands by his side.

Still Waters Run Deep | @thisisapaige

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 41,168

Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergent After s15e09 The Trap, Hurt/Comfort, Mute Castiel, Mark of Cain, Aquaphobia, Claustrophobia, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester

Summary: In the darkest depths of the ocean, sealed into the ma'lak box with Chuck trapped behind the Mark, Castiel loses the battle against God's rage. When Sam and Dean find Castiel on a dark patch of highway— the Mark missing and his grace weak— he cannot speak.

It rains. It rains and it rains and it rains. It is a Great Flood.

In order to stop God, save the world, and resolve the issues simmering between them for years, Castiel and Dean need to communicate.

Perhaps they should build an ark instead.

When I Knew You | @friendofcarlotta

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 54,272

Main Tags/Warnings: Modern AU, Time Travel, Bartender Dean Winchester, Editor Castiel, Mutual Pining, Minor Character Death, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Incorrect Science, Social Anxiety, Sharing a Bed

Summary: Shortly after moving into his new house, Dean Winchester finds a strange, flickering light in the middle of his living room. When he touches it, he’s transported two years into the past, to the days when a man named Castiel Novak lived in the house.

Dean’s own time pulls him back eventually, but the gateway to the past keeps appearing, and Dean keeps visiting Cas — sometimes for minutes, sometimes for hours. They soon fall in love, but there is no possible future for them, for one simple reason: in a few weeks, Cas is supposed to die.

As the date of Cas’ death draws closer, will Dean be able to save his life? And if he does… will the two of them find a way to be together in the same time?

On the flip side | Joysprings (AO3)

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 64,357

Main Tags/Warnings: Lgbtq, Polyamorous characters, Blood and Injury, Time Jumps, Neurodivergence, Autistic Castiel, Emotional Abuse, Pilot Dean Winchester, Writer Castiel, Grief and Mourning, Temporary Character Death, Domestic Destiel, Dean and Cas are dad's, Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending I Promise,

Summary: A little over a year after airforce test pilot Dean Winchester's plane crashes and goes missing, its finally found. Castiel Winchester, Dean's widowed husband reflects on his grief and his memory re visits the most significant points of their relationship throughout their time together and how they shaped the present. The whole family is left to deal with the resurfaced trauma from the initial accident, and will finally learn about what truly happened, uncovering new and unexpected answers. This is their journey.

(Story will alternate chapters from the present to past time stamps)

the weight of your bones | Chi_Yagami (Ao3)

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 66,780

Main Tags/Warnings: afterlife, soulmates (sort of), canon divergent, hunter Dean Winchester, human Castiel, kid Jack Kline, angst with a happy ending, touch-starved, flashbacks/discussions of death, panic attacks

Summary: After rescuing his brother's fiancée from a house fire he doesn't survive, Dean Winchester finds himself in Heaven. He's immediately suspicious—after all, with everything he's done during his time on Earth... there's no way he deserves to be here. He lives in a beautiful neighborhood right down the street from his parents, in an amazing house that he shares with his new soulmate, Cas—a man Dean's never even met. Despite Dean's best efforts to keep his distance, Cas seems determined to make their new relationship work in the afterlife.

However, Cas doesn't understand... he isn't aware of Dean's past. Cas doesn't know that all Dean's good for is destroying relationships and ganking monsters. Cas doesn't know that Dean once got an innocent civilian killed on a case, doesn't know of the cave that haunts Dean's dreams. People are made of memories they bury or live by, and Dean chose to bury his a long time ago.

But as Cas chips away at Dean's resistance... the once-forgotten bones begin to surface.

When Tomorow Comes | @teeparadigm67

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 78,994

Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Season 15 rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Angst, Lots of Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Eventual Happy Ending, Sad with a Happy Ending, Dean Winchester Saves Castiel from the Empty (kind of), Dean Winchester is Protective of Castiel, Dean Winchester is Saved, First Time, Castiel Saves Dean Winchester, Love Confessions, Castiel's Loss of Angelic Grace, Dean Winchester in the Empty, First Kiss, The World is Saved, Smut, Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dean Winchester's Taste in Music, Sharing a Bed, Frottage, Men of Letters Bunker, Castiel/Dean Winchester in the Men of Letters Bunker, Happy Ending, Alternate Season/Series 15, Season/Series 15

Summary: When hunting for the Leviathan blossom, Castiel gets taken. Tired, desperate and wanting to tell him all the things left unsaid before it’s too late, Dean prays to him. But he realises... standing there, in the grey hellish landscape, the portal home flickering just beside them with seconds left on the timer, they're already were too late.

Running himself ragged fuelled solely by caffeine, whisky, and that trademark Winchester determination, he will find a way to stop Chuck and to save Cas. However, this isn't the blaze of glory Dean had always envisioned going out in. But, deep down, he would go out swinging to save a loved one. Those bright shining penetrating tear-soaked eyes are the last thing he sees before his vision is marred, the desperate plea of his name dampened by the black ooze filling his eardrums as the essence of the Empty wraps around him and pulls him pulled from existence into the dark.

All because of that simple prayer, the ending Chuck had always planned was rewritten.

The Unbroken | @casblackfeathers

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 126,551

Main Tags/Warnings: zombie apocalypse, bed sharing, hurt and comfort, angel castiel, protective dean, soft dean, endverse, bamf castiel, bottom dean

Summary: Dean’s life had been made of running. He ran from a curse that had desolated his life ever since he was a child — whenever he got hurt, he turned into a goddamn human-torch, killing everyone around him — and he ran from himself and his own self-loathing.

But managing all that at the end of a world full of Croats lurking around every corner was easier said than done.

Until a mysterious man with tousled dark hair paired with blue eyes as clear as the sky during a hot summer’s day stopped him from free falling, literally. In one fell swoop, the stranger had not only saved his life but also calmed the wildfire threatening to burn everything in its wake.

There was something about Castiel that made Dean want to stop running but also hid something darker — something Dean couldn’t quite put his finger on. And between soft, pillowy lips and feather-like fingerprints, Cas could very well shatter Dean’s world and maybe help save the whole world in return.

Fortunate Son (WIP) | @friendofcarlotta

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 128,610

Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - 1960s, Vietnam War, Character Death (but no MCD), Blood and Injury, Counterculture, Recreational Drug Use, Mutual Pining, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Period-Typical Homophobia, Coming Out, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Getting Back Together, Suicidal Thoughts

Summary: The year is 1966, the place is Kansas, and Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak are falling in love. But with Castiel under the thumb of his conservative parents and Dean set to ship out to Vietnam, there is no possible future for them.

As Castiel’s life turns upside down and the hell of Vietnam threatens to swallow Dean’s soul, it will take everything they have to find their way back to each other. But some things are worth waiting — and fighting — for.

[hockey-fics]

The Summer It All Changed ~ Quinn Hughes

ft. Jack and Luke being idiots 

Summary: You grew up with Quinn and for the longest time you really were just friends. But perhaps that’s not all you’re meant to be. 

Word Count: ~5,000

Warnings: Smut, drinking, language. 

A/N: I barely edited this, it’s not my best work. I’m really just trying to get back into the whole actually finishing my WIPs thing. 

You had known the Hughes family your entire life. Quite literally. Your parents were friends and you grew up alongside the three boys. You had been affectionately linked with Jack for most of your life. You were just under a year younger than Jack and your parents seemed to believe that should mean that you two would be best friends. And it wasn’t that you weren’t friends, you definitely were. But it wasn’t Jack that you always seem to gravitate to. It was Quinn who was the recipient of all your attention growing up. 

He would pretend to be annoyed, particularly during the middle school years when being spotted with the younger kids seemed like the most embarrassing thing anyone could imagine. But no matter how much he would pretend everyone could tell he was never really annoyed by you. 

He was always the one who made sure you were able to keep up when you went on bike adventures with the,. He didn’t get annoyed when you didn’t understand the rules of a new game after a single half-assed explanation from Jack or Luke. He made sure to not let everyone talk over you when you were young and quiet. He was the one who taught you how to skate and he was the one who would fight to let you have input on the movie for movie nights. 

Quinn had been there for you during some of the best and worst times of your life. 

The first time you got drunk, in a classmate’s basement drinking glass after glass of boxed red wine, it was Quinn who you called. He was the only one of your friends that had their license, but more than that he was the only one you really wanted in that moment. When he showed up you were sitting alone on the front steps of the house, staring at the ground desperately willing the world to stop spinning around you. Quinn took you home that night, helped you sneak into your bedroom. He got you water and the garbage can from the bathroom, knowing you may not make it through the night with the contents of your stomach still in your body. You barely remembered the night the next morning and Quinn never once tried to tease you about it the way you knew any of your other friends would have. 

Your first teenage heartbreak was as stereotypical as it could be. You had been with him for a whopping six months, which was quite the feat at fifteen years old. You holed up in your living room with your best friend, a pint of ice cream, and an endless stream of movies playing in the background. It was two days after the breakup when Jack showed up to see if you wanted to go on a bike ride. To this day you still weren’t sure who told who what but the news of your breakup eventually made its way back to Quinn. He showed up that evening and after being let into the house by your mom he hesitantly made his way to you, like you were a feral animal that might sprint off if he made too sudden of a movement. He didn’t know what to say, that was apparent to anyone hearing his awkward statements of condolences. But he stayed with you late into that night, watching movies with you and your best friend, making jokes that lightened the mood and letting you curl up next to him, your head on his shoulder for most of the evening. 

You discovered your acceptance into your dream university while your parents were at work and you were home alone. After an ecstatic sprint around your empty house you ended up at the Hughes’ residence, banging on the door like you were in desperate need of help. It was Luke who answered the door, the unwilling recipient of one of the most rambunctious hugs you had ever given in your life. He had hugged you back with a palpable hesitation. After telling him the great news you received a half-assed congratulations. But Quinn was in the room a minute later, barrelling his way to you. He gave you the congratulations you were looking for, telling you he had no doubts you would get accepted and assuring you that you were going to do so incredible in university. 

Obviously you had known that Quinn was going to get drafted in the 2018 draft. You knew it was going to happen, you knew that you couldn’t live down the road from Quinn forever. But when you watched Quinn get picked by the Canucks the excitement you had for him was mixed with a sinking feeling. Vancouver. It wasn’t just far it was in a whole other country. The first time you saw him after the draft you put on your bravest face, hugging him tight with a sincere congratulations. You were happy for him, you really were. But you had only kept your emotions in check for a short time that day. Before you knew it you were crying in his arms, confessing how scared and sad you were to soon not have him around. He had assured you he was still going to be around, that it would just be different. And he wasn’t wrong, taking the spot for the person you texted the most for many, many years. 

After you left for university and Quinn was living in Vancouver you didn’t see each other much. But there was one thing that you could always look forward to. Summer. After you finished your exams for the year and Quinn’s hockey season came to end you would both return home for the summer. 

It was during those summers that your feelings for Quinn truly developed. Those long, hot days were when you realized your feelings for him weren’t the feelings you have for someone who was just a friend. But you never said anything, never did anything to act on your feelings. You were so close and your families were so intertwined that the risk of complicating things scared you out of doing anything. 

You were nearing the end of your years at university, after having completed three full years you headed home for yet another summer with your family and childhood friends. This year was different though, this year you were going to be spending two weeks on the beaches of Hawaii with the Hughes family. 

It wasn’t like it was the first time you had gone on a trip with the Hughes family. But it was different. This was the first year you were able to drink, legally at least. You were all older now. You had your own hotel room, not sleeping on a cot in a room with your parents. You had a level of freedom you never had under the watchful eye of parental guardians. 

“Are we still going to the beach?” you ask, crammed in the elevator of the hotel you had just checked in to with Jack, Luke, and Quinn and about 3 too many suitcases. 

“Yeah, what’s your room number? We can meet you there and go down together?” Quinn offers. 

There’s a couple snickers after his question, Jack being the one to actually speak up. “Yeah, I bet that’s why you wanna know where her room is.”

“Fuck off,” Quinn mutters, elbowing Jack in the ribs. 

Your eyes shift back and forth between them, feeling on the outside of an inside joke. “614,” you state as the elevator doors slide open on the 6th floor. Stepping out of the elevator you drag your bags behind you, heading down the elevator to your room. It’s a beautiful room, one that Quinn had insisted on helping you pay for after you nearly opted out of the trip over the price. 

Digging through your suitcase you find a bikini, pulling it on your body before spinning around in front of the mirror, taking in every angle to ensure it looked okay. Sighing to yourself you adjust the straps a few times, wondering if perhaps it was a little too much for a vacation with some of your closest family friends. But before you have the opportunity to change into anything else there’s a knock on the door. 

Pulling it open you look up at Jack, watching his eyes blatantly travel up and down your body. “Who you wearing this for?” Jack teases. 

Swatting his arm you step aside, letting him into your hotel room. “Is it too much?”

“You mean you have something with less?” Jack chuckles, sitting down on the edge of your bed. 

“Shut up,” you mutter, glancing in the mirror. “Seriously, should I change?”

“Nah, you’re going to make some people pretty happy in that.”

“Gross,” you comment, tossing a few beach essentials into a tote bag as you wait for the other two to get to your room. It’s not long before another knock draws your attention and you open the door, gazing up at Quinn with a smile. “Hi,” you greet, stepping to the side. 

Quinn’s eyes aren’t as easy to follow, darting around to various parts of the room, not lingering on you for more than a couple seconds at a time. “H-hey,” Quinn stammers, clearing his throat. 

“Are you going to come in or just stand there?” you tease, watching Quinn finally take a step into your room.

Quinn freezes again when his eyes land on Jack, glancing back over to you for a moment. “How long have you been here?” Quinn asks, walking over to sit next to Jack. 

“Chill,” Jack chuckles, shaking his head. He whispers something to Quinn that you can’t hear and you look back to the mirror, more than convinced now that you should change. 

“I’ll find something else to wear,” you declare, digging through your suitcase again. 

“Oh my god,” Jack groans, flopping down onto the bed. “Now you need to chill, that’s not what I was talking about.”

“Then what were you whispering about?” you exclaim, spinning back around to face them. 

Jack chuckles, still staring at the ceiling. “What did I say, Quinn?”

Quinn opens his mouth to say something, cut off by another knock on the door. “Guess it’s time to head to the beach,” Quinn states, hoping up from the edge of your bed and opening your door, in the hallway before you have a chance to say anything more. 

Yanking on a pair of shorts and grabbing your bag you hurry after Quinn. The four of you are approaching the elevator when you wrap your hand around Quinn’s wrist, pulling him to a halt. You wait for the other two to get a few steps away before saying anything. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Quinn mutters with a shrug. 

“Obviously it’s not nothing, Quinn. Something is off and I feel weird and….uncomfortable.”

“I’m sorry,” Quinn says quickly, eyes diverting to the ground for a second. “I promise it’s nothing, I’m sorry, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“Can’t you just tell me the truth?” you whisper, never thinking you would have to ask Quinn to be honest with you. 

“Not right now,” Quinn says quietly. “But I promise it’s nothing bad, it’s nothing you’ve done or anything.”

Sighing you reach out, wrapping your arms around his torso. “I just don’t want this to become a thing, Quinn. I’ve missed you and just want this trip to be fun.”

“It will be, I promise, it’s not going to be weird.” 

Nodding you take his hand, hurrying to the elevator that Luke was holding open for the two of you. 

Down on the beach you claim a lounge chair amongst an empty row, laying your towel down before sitting down, watching Quinn lay his stuff down on the chair beside you. “Not going to swim with them?” you inquire, nodding towards Luke and Jack as they make their way towards the water. 

“Nah, maybe later,” Quinn says, sitting down next to you. “Rather be here with you.”

You can’t help but notice the way your stomach flutters with butterflies at that comment, with the way he was looking at you. Your cheeks begin to flush as you notice Quinn’s eyes drifting down from your eyes to your chest. You contemplate making a joke about it but if you were being honest you didn’t want him to stop and you weren’t willing to risk making him feel uncomfortable it. 

“Do you want a drink?” Quinn asks a few minutes later, looking over at the bar not far down the beach. 

“Yeah, sure.” Standing up you walk along the beach next to Quinn, the sand hot beneath your feet, a gentle breeze tossing your hair. “What are you getting?” 

“Probably just a beer,” Quinn shrugs as the two of you stop in front of the bar, looking at the small cocktail menu. 

“You’re so boring,” you tease. 

“Well what are you getting?”

“A Mai Tai,” you tell him, simply reading the first drink listed on the menu you were looking at. 

“What’s in that?” 

Shrugging you laugh quietly, looking up at him. “No idea, I’m sure it’s good though.”

“You’re going to end up hating it and I’ll have to drink it.”

“That’s not true,” you exclaim, though if you were being honest that exact situation had happened many times in your years of knowing Quinn. 

After ordering and getting your drinks the two of you head back to the lounge chairs. It doesn’t take long for you to fall back into your typical routine with Quinn. You would talk, maybe a little too much, he would listen intently, cracking jokes here and there. The two of you would break out into fits of giggles, laughing till your stomach hurt and you could barely catch your breath. When you were with him it felt like nothing could possibly go wrong, everything just felt so easy. 

The first couple days of the holiday go by in much the same fashion. Wake up later than you should, have breakfast late enough that it becomes brunch. Spend the day on the beach or going out around the city. Drinking begins long before dinner happens and when you finally get around to figuring something out for dinner you’re tipsy and thoroughly warmed from the day in the sun. Drinking rarely slowed after dinner, the location of where that happened did seem to change nightly, from bars to clubs to the beach. 

You’re sitting at a table in a bar at the hotel on night four when you lean closer to Quinn, catching his attention. “Will you go for a walk with me? I want to go down to the beach,” you whisper.

Quinn nods in response, finishing what was left in his glass before setting it down on the table. “We’ll be back in a bit,” Quinn says to the others at the table, walking with you down the steps from the bar to the pathway down to the beach. 

You walk together in a comfortable silence, till you get closer to the edge of the water, plopping down on the sand. Quinn follows your lead, sitting down next to you. The sand is cool now with the sun long gone, the moon shining off the surface of the ocean. 

“Thanks for inviting me here,” you say to Quinn, leaning your head on his shoulder. You can feel your heart racing in your chest, the physical contact felt so much more significant now than it ever had in the past.

Quinn chuckles, setting his hand on the sand behind you, letting you lean further into him. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”

“Well thank you for paying for so much stuff for me, you really didn’t have to do all this,” you tell him, lifting your head to look up at him. “I really appreciate it.”

“I would have paid for all of it.”

Laughing you shake your head. “You’re too nice to me.”

“Is that a problem?” Quinn chuckles, turning his attention away from the ocean to look down at you. 

Your eyes lock and there’s a silence between the two of you that lasts a little longer than feels natural. “No,” you finally whisper. You let out a heavy breath, trying not to let your thoughts get too out of control as your eyes fall to his lips. 

Quinn reaches over, his fingers sliding along the side of your face. It feels so sudden that you nearly flinch, eyes flicking back up to look into his. There’s another long pause as Quinn watches you intently, like he was waiting for you to object to what was happening. But you didn’t, you couldn’t. Leaning closer your hand fumbles along the sand, your breathing shaky. 

Finally he commits to the moment, his lips on yours a second later. He’s gentle and the kiss is so soft and slow. When you pull back it’s hesitant, not wanting the moment to end. But you needed to process it just as much as you wanted to keep going. “Quinn,” you whisper, eyes on the sand, nervous to look into his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, did you not want-.”

“No,” you interject. “I mean, yes, yeah, I did, I just…what, um…what?” you can’t help but laugh at your stammering, still not entirely sure what you were trying to say, just hoping he would pick up on enough to say something in response. 

Quinn chuckles quietly, reaching over and taking your hand. “I don’t know if this is weird to say right now,” Quinn mumbles. “But um, I, uh, I like you…a lot.”

“Quinn,” you breathe out again, looking into his eyes now. 

“Can you please say something other than my name? I’m kind of freaking out.”

Giggling you lean in, pressing your lips to his again. “I feel the same way,” you whisper against his lips, not wanting to pull any further away from him now that the boundaries that had been stopping you from touching him like this before were gone.

Slowly you lift one knee over Quinn’s lap, setting your arms over his shoulders. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” you admit. 

Quinn has one hand behind him, propping himself up as he gazes up at you. His lips are curled into a soft smile. His free hand runs up your thigh, landing on your hip. “Me too.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Quinn shakes his head with a breath of laughter. “I mean, look at you,” Quinn mutters. “I never thought I would have a chance.”

“Quinn,” you whisper, tipping his head back as you lean in closer. “There’s nobody else I have ever wanted to be with more than you.”

You can feel Quinn’s breath on your lips, his hand sliding up your back as he pulls you closer. Your lips brush against his, the kiss was gentle again, slow and patient. It doesn’t last long as your body begins to beg for more, fingers tangling in his hair as the kiss quickens. Your hips grind down into him as his tongue brushes against yours, your nerves firing with every touch of his hands on your body. 

Pulling back you take a moment to catch your breath, staring down at him with eyes full of desire. “Do you want to come up to my room for a bit?”

“Yes,” Quinn replies quickly with an eager nod. 

Clambering to your feet you brush the sand from your legs, taking Quinn’s hand and heading back up to the hotel. Behind the closed doors of the elevator Quinn presses you against the cool metal wall, kissing you gently, hands firm on your waist. The ride is short and you’re giggling as you push him out through the open door, every step you take closer to your room you seemed to be gaining speed. 

By the time the hotel room door is closed your body is buzzing with desire. You’re frantically pulling articles of clothing off each other’s bodies, littering them throughout the room from the door to the bed. You let yourself melt into Quinn as he lays you down on the bed, pressing kisses down your neck and chest, fingers hooking under your underwear, tugging them down your legs. 

A loud breath leaves your lungs as Quinn presses his lips to your inner thigh, slowly moving them higher and higher up your legs. The closer he gets to where you wanted him the more antsy you became, hips squirming on the bed. “Please,” you whimper, desperate for him to pick up the pace. Quinn takes the hint, tongue brushing over your clit as moans begin slipping from your lips. 

Moaning loudly you have one hand on the back of his head, fingers grasping at his hair. Your other hand is grasping the fabric of the sheets on your bed. “Oh, fuck, feels so good,” you whimper. As you grow closer to you your peak your muscles begins to tense, waves of pleasure suddenly crashing through your body just a second later. 

Quinn makes his way back to your lips, kissing you deeply as you reach down, hand brushing against his hard cock. “So hot coming for me like that,” Quinn mumbles against your lips. Fumbling his underwear off you grasp at Quinn’s shoulders, staring at him with eager eyes.

“Are you sure?” Quinn asks, watching you nod before slipping his hand between your bodies. He guides himself into you, slow and gentle as he watches you closely. 

With a soft gasp you grasp at his shoulders, the feeling of him inside you making your head spin with pleasure. No amount of imagining this moment could have prepared you for this. “You feel so good inside me,” you whimper as he thrusts deep inside you. 

“Fuck,” Quinn groans, a blissful smirk on his lips. “I don’t think I’ll be able to last long, you feel so fucking good,” he admits. 

“That’s okay,” you giggle, pulling him closer to press your lips to his. “I don’t think this will be the last time this is happening.”

“Really hope not,” Quinn mumbles. His hips begin to move faster, your moans increasing in frequency as your fingers dig into his shoulders. “Where do-.”

“Come inside me,” you interject, hoping that you knew where he was going with his question. “I want to feel you fill me with your cum.”

“Oh, fuck,” Quinn groans, shaking his head. “Can’t say that to me if you want me to last longer.”

“Cum all over me then, is that better?” you tease with a quiet gasp as Quinn’s hips smack harder into you. 

“N-no,” Quinn stammers, shaking his head. True to his word you feel him finishing inside you just a moment later, groaning loudly as he rocks his hips into you a few more times before slowly pulling out of you. Reaching over he grabs a few of the Kleenex from the box on the bedside table, quickly cleaning you up. 

“Do you want to have a shower?” you ask, propping yourself up on your elbows. “With me.”

“Yes,” Quinn replies easily, reaching for your hands as you sit up.

After a shower you curl up next to Quinn in bed, your arm over his chest, drawing imaginary shapes on his skin. You try to stay awake, to spend more time with Quinn, but you’re quickly overtaken by sleep in the comfort of his arms. 

You weren’t sure what time it was or even how many rounds you and Quinn had gone since you woke up that morning. All you knew was that your legs were beginning to shake with Quinn between them, your fingers tangled in his hair, gasps and moans escaping your lips loudly. But a knock on the door is enough to silence your string of moans and make Quinn pull back quickly. 

“Who’s that?” Quinn whispers, looking over at you with wide eyes. 

“How would I know?” you mutter, scrambling off the bed to try and find some clothes to pull over your naked body. With Quinn’s shirt and a pair of bikini bottoms on you open your door, eyes widening as you look over at Jack. “Hi,” you mutter, swallowing heavily. 

“Are you…okay?” Jack asks, eyebrows furrowed as he looks you up and down. “Oh, oh shit,” he laughs, shaking his head. “Quinn’s not going to be happy about this,” he mutters, glancing around the hallway. 

“I,” you begin, glancing behind you as you let out a loud breath. “What do you want, Jack?”

“Are you coming on the boat today or what? We were supposed to meet down there at one.”

“One?” you exclaim, not realizing how late in the day it had gotten. 

“Yeah,” Jack states, shaking his head at your confusion. “Also, do you know where Quinn is?”

“I, uh,” you begin before shaking your head. “No, I don’t…I’ll be down in a few minutes, just need to get ready,” you tell him, closing the door before he has the chance to say anything else. 

“Didn’t want to tell him?” Quinn asks with a smirk, walking over to where you were standing by the door. 

“Tell him that he just interrupted his brother going down on me?” you ask. 

Quinn shrugs, hands on your waist as he walks you back to the edge of the bed. “Lay down, I’m not going to let that stop me from finishing what I started.”

You let out a quiet moan, leaning up and kissing him deeply. His tongue is in your mouth and you can taste yourself on him, whimpering into the kiss. 

Quinn smirks, pushing you back onto the bed before getting down in front of it. His head is back between your legs just a second later, his tongue sliding along your folds before running over your clit, your hips squirming beneath him. He presses his arm over your hips, stilling them as he quickly brings you to another orgasm, body writhing beneath him. 

“Fuck, holy fuck,” you breathe out as Quinn kisses his way up your body. 

Quinn presses a quick kiss to your lips before taking your hands and pulling you to sit up. “Should we head down there?”

Nodding you stare up at him with an awestruck gaze. “Y-yeah,” you stammer, pulling yourself to your feet and digging through your suitcase for another bikini and pair of shorts. 

The two of you make it down to the lobby only a few short minutes later, your legs not even entirely steady yet. You watch Jack glance over at Quinn and then back to you, eyes narrowing slightly. “Found him,” you declare, looking at Jack as you say it. 

“Mmhm,” Jack hums, looking away from you. “Let’s go,” he declares, storming off towards the doors of the hotel. You exchange a look with Quinn, his shrug being enough to tell you to just leave him Jack be and keep going ahead with the plan. 

You’re on your sixth drink in the span of a couple hours on the boat, a buzz in your body as you lean back against the hot vinyl seats on the boat. You weren’t the only one who had been drinking, everyone on the boat having lost their sobriety somewhere after hour one on the boat. Quinn scoots a little closer to you, draping his arm over the back of your seat as he leans in, pressing his lips to the top of your head. 

“She’s not into you,” Jack declares with a drunken slur, staring at Quinn with a warning look. 

“What?” Quinn asks, chuckling as Jack’s statement. 

“She was fucking someone this morning, you need to stop.”

“Woah,” Quinn mutters. “How many drinks have you had, bud?”

“I’m not lying, she was-.”

“I know, Jack, now shut the fuck up,” Quinn snaps, a warning tone in his voice. 

“You’re in love with her,” Jack exclaims, gesturing wildly between you and Quinn. 

You can’t help but giggle at the situation, looking up at Quinn. “You can tell him, it’s fine,” you whisper. 

“I was the one in her room this morning, bro,” Quinn tells Jack, dropping his arm from around you on the chair to around your waist, pulling you in closer. 

Jack is silent for a few seconds, eyes darting back and forth between you and Quinn. “Oh, shit, sorry, I-.”

“It’s fine, let’s just stop talking about this,” you interject, cheeks flushing. 

“Wait, what?” Luke exclaims from where he was sitting on the other side of you. “Are you two finally a thing?”

“No, we’re not really, like, together, but…finally?” you question, turning your head to look at Quinn with a teasing smile. “Did everyone but me know you had feelings for me?”

“Not everyone,” Quinn chuckles, cheeks red. “Just these two idiots.”

“We’re not the idiots here if you two aren’t going to just get together, it’s been like 20 years,” Luke states.

“We’ll figure it out,” you assure him, turning your head to look at Quinn. “Right?”

“I don’t think there’s much I need to figure out,” Quinn says, looking into your eyes. “I know exactly what I want.”

“Me too,” you whisper with a soft smile, fingers squeezing his hand, a silent communication that you were both on the same page. Because at the end of the day, it’s better late than never and you don’t know if you could have lived with never having a chance with Quinn. 

[loki-is-my-kink-awakening]

WIP Wednesday

Lokius. Loki fears they will be lost to timeslipping, so when they appear beside Mobius, even if they are on the floor, they cling onto him.

Loki was lost, pulled across the vastness of space and time, stretched so thin it felt like their atoms would be forever scattered, then snapping back together a second later. Each time, it hurt, but they didn’t want to admit that, not to Mobius when it was their fault they were in this mess. They’d let their guard down, and now the universe was spinning off kilter. The fear was the worst. Each time they disappeared, there was no assurance they would come back…to him. They could be gone and Mobius might never know the truth, that they loved him, even if they could never say it. If they never came back, would anyone think their life had been worth living? For years, they had been cut off from their peers, never having friends, never letting anyone in, isolating themself from their own family. They’d experienced years of loneliness, and they knew they deserved more. It had only been when they’d met Mobius that they’d finally felt some peace. For the first time in their life, they had been truly seen but without any judgement, and Loki had struggled to accept it, until finally—like a ravenous dog—they had revelled in the very thing they’d always wanted. Mobius made them feel whole when before they hadn’t realised they were damaged. And now, they needed him more than ever. With each twist of their body, they were sure they were getting closer to oblivion. The cosmos had never looked so desolate. Darkness filled the void. Their heart ripped, another piece falling out and disappearing, never to be found again. It was over. It must be. They would never know the meaning of love again. With eyes closed, they let themself float, waiting, enduring. Then, a bright light shone from above and they winced. Muscles pulled and contracted, and beneath them was something solid, smooth and cold. Suddenly, they could breathe again. Their lungs worked and blood pumped through their veins. The world settled around them and they opened their eyes, realising exactly where they were. In front of them was a leg hidden beneath the scratchy brown material the TVA insisted everyone wear, and beneath that a leather shoe. Their eyes swivelled down their body, spotting Mobius’ other leg and the thin metal legs of the chair he was seated on. Above them was a table, and Mobius was hunched over it like he always was. Loki took in a sharp breath of air, then grabbed onto Mobius’ legs, wrapping their body around him and sighing with relief to have him in their grasp once more. “What the?” Mobius yelled. “Mmmm,” Loki replied, face snuggled into him, never wanting to let go.

Inspired by this gorgeous art by @queerolddad.

I was tagged by both @cha-melodius and @kcscribbler. Thank you. 💕

Tagging writers, artists and creators @doomed-spectacles @insert-witty-user-name-here @dewdropreader @starport-seven-five @starrose17 @sparrow-the-tired-lesbian @blackbirdofasgard @faylights @typewriterwolf @lgwilt @mobius-m-mobius @wolfpup026 @natendo-art @lokimobius @loki-us and anyone else who wants to do it.

[rmd-writes]

a love note (and some fics)

Sometimes I wonder if there's really anything bigger out there - the universe, some kind of higher power, fate - and then I think about how extremely lucky I am that I became obsessed with a certain tv show and its characters at just the right time so that I could befriend someone who then introduced me to a particular book at exactly the right time to fall in love with those characters as well. And then, because of my need to have more of those characters, I went looking for more stories about them at exactly the right time to meet a group of people (some of them together, some of them later, but that doesn't matter) who would go on to become my friends.

There must be something, right? To bring together a group of people who live in five to seven different time zones depending on the time of year. To create my safest spaces on the internet. To share not just our love for a book and its characters, but parts of our lives with each other. To have them all wedge themselves into the soft spaces of my heart and never leave.

I've been thinking about this a lot over the last two weeks, because those people conspired and collaborated to gift me a collection of 10 incredible fics for a milestone birthday (tomorrow!) - even though some of them haven't written fic for months and months, or don't write for this fandom at all anymore, or have recently been finding it hard to make words work and finish fics, or are just plain busy with other projects and life. That they took the time to find and make words for me means everything and more 💖💖

I've been absolutely overwhelmed with love these past 10 days (probably to the surprise of no one, I have cried at every single fic drop and I'm crying writing this now). So, I want to share the wonderful fics that they've written for me with you all because it's the least I can do to pay it forward and they're objectively stellar fics. If you haven't come across them already then you should definitely add them to your to read lists/open tabs/MFL. Please show my friends some love and read their work.

The Rae of Sunshine! collection, in order of publication (with my very short summaries):

Take It Back (4.2K) by @three-drink-amy

Henry is the head chef at a French restaurant and there's one patron who keeps sending his dishes back. How can they resolve this?

Dick, Dick Dick (You Down) (10.2K) by @everwitch-magiks

Alex runs the craft services trailer on the set of actor!Henry's latest movie. Is he the only person who sees behind the façade?

A deceptively soft story, given the title.

Precious Love (1.3K) by floatingaway4

The fluffiest follow up to one of my favourite AUs Amigos y Migas (aka the food truck au).

Midnight ice cream (5.8K) by @the-amber-fox

Emotional support Cornettos? More likely than you think.

Make it Right (5.3K) by @three-drink-amy (that's right, Ally wrote me TWO FICS)

A rogue little Tarlos fic in amongst the firstprince - a post-season 1 canon divergence that sees TK working in a taco truck while he finds his feet.

a taste of life (7.4K) by @indomitable-love

A journey through Henry's life, told through food. (This one is not my summary, indomitablelove already summed it up perfectly)

Risotto + Melanzane + Dolce (a love story) (16.8K) by @villiageidiot

Alex starts working at an Italian restaurant and is terrible at his job. Somehow, Henry doesn't seem to mind.

Cursed is a State of Mind (WIP) by @welcometololaland & @dustratcentral

A 5 + 1 treatise on cursed coffee consumption.

12 Year Starter (6.6K) by @clottedcreamfudge

When Pez can't make it to Henry's Michelin-star birthday dinner, he arranges for Henry's friend, Alex, to take his place. Featuring CCF's signature banter and fun, and a menu that I wish was real.

Pour Your He(art) Out (WIP) by @athousandrooms

A 5+1 ode to latte art (featuring actual art!)

You can find the entire collection here on Ao3.

[ewanmitchellconnoisseur]

"Illusion" (Final Part)

A/N: This is short :/ but it's a cute ending and I like it so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Trying to speed run through my WIP's. Anywho here is the final part of Illusion!! Also sorry it took long, I'e been going through some stuff 😚

I do also want to mention that this isnt my best work. Because im finishing what past me started it was hard to make sure this came out good so...dont read to much into my shitty writing!

Summary: After Osferth saw you working at your night job you start avoiding him, embarassed about what he saw. He manages to get you alone and you both have a heart to heart.

TW: Virginity Loss, Smut, P in V, Alochol, Osferth being bold, Tiddy Suckkin

←  Previous Part

Mortified.

That was the only way to express how you felt. You were utterly mortified.

Just when your life was getting better and things were looking up. It's almost as if the universe couldn't let you have a moment of peace.

Your brain ran wild as you drove back home. He would never see you the same again after this. There was no way he'd still want to go on that date. And you couldn't possibly go to his birthday party and face him.

You are quick to run up to your stairs when you finally arrive home. Not noticing the small boy in the living room who stayed up waiting for you to get home.

You didn't have work. You traded your shift the same day he asked you to go with him to his party. Your brothers had plans with friends from school and your mom was working all day.

You spent the first half of the day cleaning your room and the rest of the house. Not cause you had to but because what else was there to do.

For once in your life you had the house to yourself. And the only thing you wanted to do was sit on your couch with a fat tub of ice cream and maybe a hot pocket...or two.

So that's what you did.

Sweatpants, sweatshirts, and slippers. Ice cream, chips and your hot pockets were all you needed as you snuggled on the couch.

You binge-watched your favourite show you've seen way too many times, trying your best to push everything out of your head. You managed to get halfway through the first second season before someone rang the doorbell.

Crawling over the back of the couch miserably and walking over to the door while still keeping your eyes on the TV you open the door.

When you finally tear your eyes away from the screen to look in front of you Osferth is standing there.

Without thinking you slam the door shut in the face. You stand there staring at the now-closed door when the doorbell rings again.

Taking a deep breath and wiping your face with the sleeve of your sweater you open the door again.

Osferth turned back around as he heard the door open. He walks back towards the door.

"Osferth liste-"

His hand is quickly holding on to the side of your face as his other pulls you flush against him. He dips down to kiss you silencing any objections.

You had always thought him to be too timid to do something like this. Too kind and gentle to kiss in such an intense way. When he finally pulls you away he doesn't let you go, continuing to hold you close.

"I shouldn't have approached you the way I did...I wasn't angry, disappointed or even disgusted..."

His fingers gently brush your cheek. His eyes take in all of your face as he's able to see you up close for the first time.

"I was jealous, I think, all those men looking at you I guess just got to me. Maybe I was also confused but that's all. I didn't mean to scare you off." Both his hands move to rest on your waist.

"I was just scared. Worried you would be. I should have heard you out instead of running. I was embarrassed."

Osferth listened to you as he rubbed circles on your waist comfortingly.

"And you had just invited me to your birthday, I was so scared tha-" You cut yourself off as something crossed your mind. "Wait- your birthday! What are you doing here? Your party started like an hour ago."

"I left...I couldn't celebrate without you there. I had hoped you would still come. When you didn't I asked around to find out where you lived."

"You have to go back! Everyone is there for you!" You tried to remove his hands to usher him back to his car but he held on to you tightly.

"I barely know half the people there. Plus, im not going back without you. I don't care if you strip I'm sure there's a reason you do it. And I won't ask if it's not something you want to talk about."

You contemplate telling him. It's not as if you didn't trust him but rather it was a pride thing. Most people wouldn't want to tell people about their family's financial struggles. Then again, if he was willing to overlook the fact that you danced half-naked for money to other men he deserved to at least know why.

"My dad had a gambling addiction. When he died his debts were passed off to us." Osferths hand held on to your lower back rubbing slowly in a soothing manner. "Loan Sharks came by a week after his funeral demanding their money. We paid them all we had in the bank but we still owe more. That's why I dropped out. That's why I strip."

"How much do you owe?"

"...not much left. I'll be done by the end of summer." Osferth nods. "Are you sure you're okay with the fact I strip? I know most guys-"

"Im not most guys. I get your situation. I just wish you had told me."

You smile softly. There is a moment of silence in between you two before Osferth leans back down for another kiss. This one is slightly different it's hungry and more aggressive. His hands slide down from your back to your butt giving it a playful squeeze.

Osferth walks you backwards into your house and uses his foot to close the door. As the kiss continues you soon notice a taste on your tongue, tequila.

You giggle against his lips, Osferths brow raises as he pulls away.

"What's so funny?"

"Did you drink before coming here?" His face flushes the tinniest bit as a smile creeps on his face.

"I took a shot in my car...liquid courage." It definitely gave him plenty of it. "I want you...so badly." He kisses the side of your face making his way down your neck, you tilt to the side giving him more access. "All of you."

You had never had someone say that to you. That they wanted you. Somewhere along the way you came to terms with the act that you could possibly never hear those words. But here they were, coming from the lips of the boy you least expected to say them.

"W-we shouldn't-" You pull your head back. You didn't know much about Osferth but you did know his family's religious standing.

"Yes-" He kisses you again before leaning down more so he can lift you up. "We should."

"Thought you were the wait until marriage type." Osferth smiles as he lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carries you over to the couch sitting down with you straddling him.

"I can always repent." His hands roam up under a sweatshirt. "How about we take this off." You help him lift the shirt over your head. He takes a second admiring how good you look in your bra before reaching behind you to undo the clasps.

Once undone he flings your bra off to the side. He marvels over how perfect your tits fit in his hands. Gently rolling your nipples between his fingers before taking one in his mouth.

He sucks eagerly before releasing your nipple with a lewd pop and giving the other the same attention.

You could feel him getting harder below you, his cock straining in his jeans. You grind down on him as he gently grazes one of your nipples with his teeth watching your face for reactions.

You help him take his shirt off before leaning down to kiss him. Osferth was beautiful, despite the somewhat nerdy and shy look to him his body looked like it belonged to another man.

"Are you sure?" You understand like anyone giving your virginity is a big step. He nods and meets you the rest of the way pulling you against him into a soft kiss. He holds the back of your neck keeping you close as he continues rolling your nipple between his fingers.

He pulls away only to help you take off your sweatpants and to shimmy out of his jeans. You can only now see just how hard he is, the tip already leaking.

You reach in between you want to touch him but he gently grabs your wrists.

"I've wanted this for long I can't wait any longer." You lift your hips as he lines himself up. His face is fixed on yours as he lowers you unto his length watching every facial reaction, studying you.

Osferth's fingers grip your hips as you fully sit down. his breath coming in short pants as he leans his head against your chest.

"D-dont move yet. I want this to last." It takes him a moment before he starts to guide your hips to move slowly. You enjoy watching the pleasure plastered on his face.

You let Osferth take control as he pulls you against his chest planting his feet on the floor to gain leverage. You're taken off guard as he picks up pace not giving you a moment to breathe.

Motivated by your moans Osferth keeps going wanting to make you feel good, wanting this to be good for you.

"Osferth~" You rest your head on his shoulder his moans filling your ears. Those are the only sounds besides the crude sounds of his balls hitting your ass with every thrust.

His arms wrap around you holding as close to him as possible wanting to feel all of you inside and out.

"Does it feel good love?" his voice is sultry and only makes you clench around him. You nod back and can feel him smirk against your neck. "It must. I can feel you dripping down my thigh."

He stopped as he moved you both around laying you on your back, one leg over his shoulder and the other wrapped around the back of your thigh.

His eyes marvelled as he watched himself slowly slide in and out of you glistening with your arousal.

Seeing your body covered in a thin layer of sweat your eyes glazed over had his cock twitching within.

"I don't think ill be able to hold back much longer." He began moving once more picking back up in pace. The new angle had him hitting a spot within you that you had not known was there.

Osferth let go of one of your legs and has his hands found a way to your clit rubbing it gently. He could feel you tightening around him, your body writhing beneath him.

He watched as your orgasm washed over you. Your back arching off the couch, the way your eyes roll back slightly and you moan his name.

In his eyes, you looked like a goddess.

The view brings Osferth his own release he pulls out his cum painting your stomach.

You both sit for a moment minds racing to comprehend what just happened between you two.

"..how about we go shower then head to the party?" He stands up offering his hand, and you take it getting up off the couch.

Despite the doubt that crawls in your mind about if he's truly ok with your profession, you can't question one thing. He makes you feel loved and safe, a feeling you have not felt in a while.

And that there was no longer a need for an illusion.

A/N: AGAIN IM SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS TOOK IF ANYONE STILL CARES. AND SORRY FOR THE SHITTY WRITING.

[canonicallyobserving911]

"Math is a universal language." - Ficlet

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

New Buddie Fanfic and New Buddie Series

The second ficlet in the "What do you want?" Series in now available on AO3. "Math is a universal language." - Eddie reconnects with an old acquaintance and they spend a lot of time together. However, now that Buck’s single, he finally tries to understand math is a universal language but when he sees Eddie talking to another guy, he wonders if it took him too long to figure it out.

"Math is a universal language." - 5.0K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

___________

Here's a snippet from an emotionally angsty conversation Eddie and Buck are having inside of the firehouse.

___________

Buck asks, “Uh... the alarm sounded before you had a chance to tell me what you did this weekend. Did you talk to Chris?"

“I did and he told me to tell you hi and that he misses you. I talked to him every day and it finally seems like we're making some progress.”

“Hmm… that's good and I miss him too.” He replies while his Christopher smile graces his lips. He pauses as he wipes the cleaning agent off the engine’s side mirror then he asks, “What else did you do?"

Instead of verbally responding, he smiles and his cheeks turn rosy.

Buck wants to spit nails because he thought he was the only person who could make Eddie blush like that.

Eddie starts looking off into the distance like he’s remembering something or someone and it makes Buck’s head start hurting because he hopes he isn’t spending time with that weirdo Kim. She changed her hair so she could look like a dead woman and he thinks it’s no wonder she’s been out of work as an actress for so long because she obviously wasn’t very good at her job.

After a few seconds of silence, Eddie admits, “I spent time with a guy who graduated from the academy with me.”

Internally, Buck asks himself, “What the hell?” then his mouth falls open and his brain goes offline because he could have sworn Eddie said he spent time with some guy that’s not him. Once he comes back to himself, he starts talking without considering his words. “Uh… who’s he?”

Eddie can hear the frustration in Buck’s voice and he wonders if he should say his name but he shrugs his shoulders when he remembers Buck’s dating Tommy now so it shouldn’t matter to him who he spends time with. He explains, “Well… his name is Chuck; he works at the 121 and we ended up at the bar together Thursday after work.”

“Huh? Eddie… I—I’m confused because uh… you hardly ever go to bars.”

“I know but I was tired of sitting at home waiting for my life to happen so I got dressed and went out. He showed up a few minutes after I arrived and we got to talking. We agreed to stay in touch and we ended up going to Manhattan Beach Friday night, the beer fest on Saturday and yesterday… we cooked lunch and dinner together.” He knows telling him all that is petty as hell but in this moment, he’s unconcerned.

Will "Petty Eddie" stick around? 👀

Is "Jealous Buck" here to stay? 🙃

___________

"What do you want?" - A Series of Ficlets

Currently 2 works completed; 8.3K Words: Rated; Teen and Up Audiences:  This is a series of “Ficlets” that I’ll be writing over the course of the next few weeks and my goal is to keep them under a certain number of words. I’m challenging myself to do it this way for multiple reasons but mainly because I want to see if I can write a full Buddie story by including smaller fics in a series in comparison to the multi-chapter fic I’m still in the process of writing titled, “I’m still in love with you but… I needed to learn how to love myself too!” I only have 9 chapters left before I finish it but once I’m done, I’d like to continue writing Buddie fanfics. However, this time I’ll start with my dislike for the way season 7 ended instead of the way season 6 did. Finally, I have a lot of WIPs that I want to finish and I figured I can turn them all into ficlets to build the full story for Buck and Eddie.

Since these ficlets will be posted in order, it’s imperative to read them one after the other. Each part ends at a specific point with a cliffhanger and the next part will begin with the ending of the previous part. Therefore, part 1 should be read prior to reading part 2 and the series will continue in that manner until it’s complete.

"You don't know math!" - 3.3K Words; Rated Teen and Up Audiences: Buck is forced to choose while Eddie might be presented with another option.

"Math is a universal language." - 5K Words Rated: Teen and Up Audiences: Eddie reconnects with an old acquaintance and they spend a lot of time together. However, now that Buck’s single, he finally tries to understand math is a universal language but when he sees Eddie talking to another guy, he wonders if it took him too long to figure it out.

Now Available on AO3

[e-rated-beardo]

The Co-pilot (4k words, rated E) + wall shove art WIP

An un-English heatwave, a few open shirt buttons and the demonic entity possessing an innocent Londoner conspire to make long-time friends Az and Tony finally get over themselves and bone. Tony’s held back for years because of the demon in his head that sometimes takes the wheel when he looks away. But with enough encouragement from an Az too work-weary and off-balance to keep his hands to himself, he might as well just hand the controls over. And maybe a surplus demonic presence in the bedroom isn’t the complication you’d expect?

Technically I'm working on a not-quite-AU, university setting, supernatural whodunit/howdunit multi chapter thingy and also sewing a whole Aziraphale cosplay for an event two weeks from now. So naturally, I had to take on a completely different writing project and also make semi-ambitious art for it 🫠

It's the ADHD life, y'all.

ANYWAY

When searching for references I found this film poster for a film I've never heard of (Cordelia with Antonia Campbell Hughes and Johnny Flynn) which has a delightful little wall shove and. Well. I couldn't not at that point, could I?

As always, there comes a point in my sketching where I wonder if it's going to be a pencil drawing or an ink drawing (or a watercolour that will warp the paper because I picked the sketch paper and not the watercolour-safe paper for this). This time, I bothed it.

Once again Crowley's (he's just Tony in this fic) hair is an absolute, unadulterated joy to draw and insanely satisfying to ink. (And once again Aziraphale's face took me about ten million attempts to get to look acceptable. I don't even know anymore.)

[bbcphile]

WIP Wednesday

I've finally worked up the courage to post the opening of one of the Mysterious Lotus Casebook fics I'm writing (Li Lianhua/Di Feisheng/Fang Duobing), specifically, from my post-canon fic where LLH's shiniang tried to sacrifice herself to cure him.

Tw/cw: suicide attempt, mention of off-page non-consensual medical procedure, internalized ableism

***

Li Lianhua crashed to his hands and knees on the ground as the last trickle of his borrowed qi abandoned him, the densely-packed sand doing nothing to cushion the blow. The impact rattled through his spine and ribs, shaking loose a bout of coughing that forced him to swallow down the burning flare of copper trying to escape from his mouth. He couldn’t cough up blood now, not here, too many steps away from the water’s reach. It would leave evidence of his route, a trail that his shiniang would undoubtedly follow once she had broken free from the immobilization. He couldn’t let her find him until the job was done. 

He pushed himself to standing, his arms and legs shaking hard enough to nearly drop him back to his knees, and he blinked to will the dancing black spots from his eyes. The waves awaited him, and he refused to crawl to meet them. He took a staggering step toward the sound of crashing water ahead of him, far fainter now than it had any right to be, and squinted against the sunlight to get his bearings. 

A large gray lump on his left snagged his attention, disrupting the blur of gold and blue that filled up the rest of his view. Why did that look familiar? He took an unsteady step closer, pressing his palm against his chest to convince his lungs to hold back a cough one more time, and the gray lump resolved into a rock. 

A rock that had once served as a pillow that was soft only in comparison to how hard the rest of the day had been.

Of course. He’d landed at Donghai beach. He swallowed back tears with a bitter laugh. Never let it be said that the universe didn’t have a sense of humor.  

He’d returned after all: three months late for the duel and over a decade late for bringing his decrepit body back to the waves that had so decisively spat him out. But surely this time, with all the mysteries solved and no business left unfinished, the sea would accept the offering of his broken frame. Li Xiangyi was long dead and it was past time for Li Lianhua to follow his example. He was already a ghost in every way that mattered. And this was the only way to guarantee his shiniang would live.

She would be furious, of course, but wasn’t furious better than dead? How could it be unfilial to make sure she lived on? Too many people had died for him; he refused to let her join those ranks. Dying to save her was already a far better death than he deserved. 

As for the others, Xiaobao would have his teachings and would be too busy climbing the heights of the jianghu to miss the weak physician he once protected. 

And a-Fei—

—well, how could he still fixate on defeating a ghost with Xiaobao shining more brightly than Li Xiangyi ever had?

No, this end was far better for everyone, and best of all, no one would sacrifice their life or be forced to play caretaker to an empty husk of a man.

A familiar chill seared through his veins and meridians, despite the warmth of the fur of his outer layer, stealing away his breath and the amorphous blue blur before him. He took another stumbling step toward where it had been, his heart stuttering painfully in his chest. 

Not much longer now. It seemed his frenzied dash here and self-shattered heart meridian were more efficient for what he had in mind than the weight his waterlogged fur coat would have offered.

Perhaps he didn’t need the coat for this at all. His body would certainly float further without it. And not even his shiniang could save him now, so what harm could it do to leave some evidence behind? Xiaobao might not believe the beggar’s words, but surely this fur cloak at the water’s edge would put to rest any lingering futile hopes. And then Xiaobao would tell a-Fei.

And if it brought them peace, if it let them say goodbye, then how could he not leave it behind?

It was decided, then. 

He lifted his hands to the coat’s laces, then paused. Were those voices? For a moment, he could have sworn he heard—

—Ah, no, the hallucinations must have started again. 

He smiled. At least he had heard a-Fei and Xiabao one last time, if only in his mind.

He untied his laces with fumbling, stiff fingers, and let the coat fall behind him. 

His heart and lungs clenched with another spasm, and a wave of dizziness broke over him, threatening to drop him to his knees once more. 

He fought against it, muscles shaking as they never had during battles. He couldn’t surrender now; not until he reached the water. He could manage three more steps. He had to.

He tried to lift his foot again.

The world swam before him, and darkness dragged him under.

[gaiaseyes451]

Return to Eden - Chapter 3 - Final Chapter!

Chapter 3 - the final chapter! - of Return to Eden is live. Our story from @goodomensafterdark is now complete. I may visit this universe again in the future, but the story has a definitive resolution now (for all my WIP adverse folks and those who avoid angst before the comfort is written :) ).

Also, there is art at the end of the story - the piece that inspired Return From Eden was a gift from the r/GoodOmensAfterDark Secret Santa. Go check out the artist, copics_on_copypaper over on insta!

Return to Eden is rated Explicit, this chapter is Mature. Please, mind the tags for Chapter 1.

This work can be read alone, but it will make more sense (and be more impactful) if you've read Fractured and Shatter first - they're all part of the Before Eden There Was a Garden Series.

Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale averted the second coming and were trying to pick up the pieces of their relationship when Aziraphale became plagued with nightmares. After hearing Aziraphale murmur a phrase from a previous life in his sleep, Crowley went in search of the one place that may be able to set everything right. Now Aziraphale must decide how much he wants to know and if he wants to remember at all.

Excerpt (Continue reading on AO3):

~*~*~

Aziraphale stepped up to the wall, tentatively ran his hand over the stones he’d placed in the Eastern Gate, smoother now after eons of wear deep in the Earth’s mantle. The wall was low, worn down such that it resembled a border around a garden bed more than the formidable structure of Biblical times. “Why did you bring me here?”

Crowley paused, his expression both sorrowful and hopeful. His eyes roamed over Aziraphale’s face, as if he were trying to recall and memorize every expression. “Shall we go in?”

“Eden,” Azraphale whispered and he took the first tentative step over the ruins as Crowley followed.

The garden was familiar yet foreign. The path leading from the Eastern gate to the center of Eden was visible but overgrown by vining ground cover and grasses. The lushness of what had once been a carefully curated paradise had been allowed to flourish unrestrained. Tree limbs intertwined creating a canopy over the path that blocked the stars from view and could hide an angel and demon from curious eyes. The night blooms of primrose and gardenia and jasmine created a heady perfume as they competed with the day flowers and shrubs for their chance to thrive. 

Aziraphale wandered down the path in silence. Even in its overrun state he knew Eden. He recalled delighting in the blooms and birdsong, eyeing the serpent of Eden warily before making his acquaintance on the wall, guiding Adam and Eve down this path to be exiled through the Eastern gate. These memories he recognized, they were familiar and bracing—he had turned them over in his mind time after time until they were worn, smooth and comfortable. He was unprepared for the flashes of other recollections, fleeting and rapid like lightning, illuminating what he knew into sharp contrast to what he had once known. Before he could grasp the flashes, make sense of the fragments they plunged back into the darkness.

“Crowley, I can’t do this.”

A firm hand on his bicep turned Aziraphale toward the demon and he looked into his earnest, golden eyes. “You can, Angel. One step at a time. I’m here.”

Aziraphale slowly shook his head. “This is too much. I can’t- it’s all running together. Like that night- I don’t,” he paused. “I don’t trust myself to know what’s real and what’s not.”

“Then trust me.” His voice was soft but brokered no argument. “Sometimes the only way forward is through.”

Aziraphale wasn’t listening, his eyes had locked onto a patch of sweet peas that had grown unruly; the shoots casting tendrils on the surrounding plants as a makeshift trellis. He knelt on the path beside the plant, wrapping the delicate tendril around his index finger, contemplating the wafer-thin petals of the white flowers. Crowley watched him, silent and waiting.

~*~*~

As always, a huge thanks to my beta readers @the-literal-kj and @hakunahistata!

[allatariel]

For your WIP game: Love At The Drafting Table. I'm not really familiar with the source but I like the title and am curious about it!

Hello friend! Thanks for the ask <3 Sorry it took me so very long to reply. I wanted to get a little more written, it was mostly an idea.

So, a little background on For All Mankind, the show I've been obsessing over for the past few months: It's an alternate history of the space race in which the Soviet Union lands on the moon a month before Apollo 11 and the U.S. has to play catch up. And then while the U.S. is focused on beating them in the race to put a base on the moon, the Russians instead land a woman on the moon and the Americans are playing catch up yet again.

OK, so in this timeline, the Apollo-Soyuz mission takes place in 1983 instead of 1975. On the show, Margo Madison is the Director of JSC and she ends up working with the head of the Soyuz program, Sergei Orestovich Nikulov, to design the docking mechanism.

Love at the Drafting Table is an AU, and also the title of a Life magazine article that gets published in the story after the success of Apollo-Soyuz, a parallel to another in universe article published circa 1967 in Look magazine, "Love in the Air," about pilot Tracy Stevens and her husband astronaut Gordon Stevens. I switched to Life magazine because Look shut down in 1971 and also Life ran a full issue on the Apollo-Soyuz mission in 1975 so I wanted to parallel that.

The premise is that as a result of the televised handshake in space, the U.S. and the Soviet Union officially collaborate on more space missions after the peace treaty. And that Margo and Sergei, who grew very close working on this project together, become the faces of that collaboration on the ground, while Danielle and Stepan, the commanders of the Apollo and Soyuz capsules involved in the mission, are the faces in space. Aleida Rosales, Margo's protege who worked with them to refine the design, mentions to one of the journalists working on the Life feature that Margo and Sergei developed the initial design on their first date.

I'm still working out a lot of the details and planning, but I do have a little snippet I can share.

Aleida, Margo, and Sergei set to work drawing up new schematics incorporating the shock absorbing ring Aleida had suggested and refining the overall design. Despite Sergei’s facility with rendering, he encouraged Aleida to do the bulk of the work. He and Margo continued to make notes on their existing sketches, updating measurements and calculations for Aleida to work off of. Not fifteen minutes passed before they hit a snag and Margo craved a tootsie roll to chew over the problem with. She wrinkled her nose at the pencil eraser, knowing it wouldn’t cut it as a substitute. And then her stomach gave her away with a gurgle. Sergei had seemed so focused on his notes, but immediately looked up at her with that cheeky little half smile she was starting to recognize as the prelude to a wry joke or clever idea. A warmth bloomed low in her belly and she fiercely ignored it. “Did someone eat your porridge?” His blue eyes danced and Margo pressed her lips together to fight down the smile that pulled at the corners of her mouth. “You’re still drunk,” Margo muttered and lost the battle, her smile breaking free with the lingering vowels of her drawl. Aleida snorted but didn’t look up from her work.

Thanks again for the ask, and for your patience <3

WIP Title Ask Meme

[fractiflos]

I've decided to do the thing where I put a poll up of my wips and write however many sentences that wip gets. BUT! These wips aren't even published yet. I like to put something up then come back to it later so I can at least take the pressure off myself. Because the pressure of getting a first chapter out makes it difficult to write.

Jult - Inspired by a conversation me and my sister had in a shoe store. We were wondering if Best Jeanist ever put a J at the front of words (ex: Jhe Jaghetti jas jood) and if he owned jean themed items like a Jable and Jhair. Then I learned there was a jult around him and thought "hey, what if he had a Jult in canon universe?" which is what happened. Although, this one is a one-shot.

Snippet: The parents would leave the hospital as confident and reassured as new parents could be, doing their best to make sure their child grew up happy and healthy. His blond hair grew out and took on a shine along with his oddly long lashes, and his green eyes always sparkling, much like his mother’s. Yet, despite his healthy look and appetite, there was something worrying about him. 

He only liked denim. 

Shigaraki - Frankenstein AU! Where AFO brings Yoichi back to life, Frankenstein style. And what luck, Yoichi appears to have lost his memories, leaving him with the opportunity to create the perfect little brother. When Second and Third find out, they try and get his memories back. But there's something that all four of them don't know. That's. Not. Yoichi.

Snippet: It was not a dark day when Yoichi died. It was sunny and there was not a cloud in the sky, though they couldn’t tell as they ran through the sewers like frightened rats. Hearts pounding in their ears, terror palpable in the air. 

Ice King AU - The AU where everyone was born earlier into the Age of the Dawn of Quirks. Second and Third are brainwashed and work for AFO while Yoichi has become unrecognizable to everyone ever since putting on the quirked crown that gave him the ice powers. Meanwhile, Izuku and Katsuki are unaware of his tragic backstory and beat him up everytime he kidnaps a hero.

Snippet: At twelve years old, Izuku Midoriya should have been in middle school cutting open a dead frog. Instead, he was battling against a very large, very alive frog with acid spit. 

Pokemon AU - Instead of quirks, they get pokemon. Izuku is still bullied for having an eevee that can't evolve. AFO and Garaki do all sorts of unethical experiments on pokemon. And it's really annoying how I can't type an accented "e" on my computer for some reason.

Snippet: Izuku Midoriya was 9 years old when he learned that not all Pokémon were treated equally. 

Death Tree - Are you in the market for a fic with lesbian duoholders? Another Victorian era AU, but this time Yoichi and Second are both girls. I thought about how easily AFO's possessiveness over Yoichi would translate over to the attitudes toward women. He'd still have to disguise how deep it goes, but even if he slips up every once in a while, no one would suspect anything. The actual plot is Yone falls in love with the daughter of the stable manager, and they eventually start a secret relationship. She also makes some friends in the small town that she lives near and is pretty happy. Then her friends start dying. Looks like they're going to regret not paying more attention to AFOs behavior.

Snippet: Yone was thirteen years old the first time she met the girl. Her wild hair was a flame in the summer sun, freckles scattered across her cheeks in a way that was reminiscent of the stars in the sky and calculating ruby eyes. She couldn’t help her staring, not used to seeing someone display such blemishes so freely. 

[tinkertoysdamn]

WIP for the Thirdquel to the Thorquill. This is here to motivate myself to work on it when this gig is over.

“Where the hell have you been?”  Rocket was awfully snooty for a rodent who'd been sucking down beers for a solid hour.  

Peter was not having it.  He slid into the dimly lit booth with his own matching scowl.  This bar reeked, why the hell had Rocket picked it?  The smell was doing nothing for Peter’s already foul mood.  “I was with the High Priest getting Kraglin’s marriage annulled.”

Rocket’s nose twitched.  “Again?”  He took a swig, uncertain if he was ready for this.  “Isn’t this like, the third time?”

“Yeah,” Peter said, voice tight.  “Ever since he fell in that krutacking Sea of Loneliness he’s been doing this.”

Rocket rubbed some of the beer foam off his face.  “What are we gonna do about it?”

“It needs to burn out of his system,” Peter said, repeating what the doctor had told him, “we have to ride it out.”

Rocket slumped in his seat.  “That sucks.”

“Tell me about it.”   

Everything was falling apart.  Things had been going good for a while but now, nothing seemed to fit.  Kraglin had joined up with them recently, having finally tired of living a nomadic existence by himself.  The poor guy had been a Ravager for decades, he didn’t do well alone.  He’d been so excited to be part of the Guardians, to do his very best and prove himself.  Then he’d fallen into some mystic sea by accident during a mission and he was acting out in ways that were really starting to piss Peter off.

He loved the guy like a brother, but this constant jumping into relationships thing was driving Peter nuts.  It was interfering with Kraglin’s ability to focus and just made life more difficult.  The fact that Peter was starting to get familiar with so many other planet’s marriage customs grated on his nerves.

Kraglin though was hardly the only problem.  He actually could be considered the least annoying of the current thorns in Peter’s side.  The second was Korg, one of Thor’s buddies who decided to tag along with the Guardians of the Galaxy and see more of the universe than Thor’s couch in New Asgard.  In general, he was kind of annoying, especially when he decided to narrate what everyone was doing while they were in the same room with him.  Even worse though, he was kind of useless in a fight.  

For a dude who had been in a battle arena as a combatant, he sucked.  He couldn’t aim a gun for shit and his melee ability was middling at best.  The one positive was that no one complained that Peter was chatty when Korg was around.   

Then there was Thor.  The Mighty Thor, once Prince and King of Asgard and now Peter’s—  Peter didn’t know what exactly but lately Thor had not been meshing with the other Guardians.  The frequency of his mediation during battle had increased and then when he did decide to get off his ass and fight, he so grossly outclassed everyone and it was embarrassing.

It was like Thor was incapable of moderating himself, it was one extreme or the other.  Trying to appease everyone was exhausting and Peter knew that something had to give.

Yeah, I'm going into pre and post Love and Thunder territory with this one.

[whimsicalmeerkat]

First & Last Lines

I did this a million years ago. I just got reminded of it and thought it would be fun to do again. Basically, post the first and last lines of the last 10 fics you posted. WIPs are welcome. Not going with any sort of strict rules, because that’s just not how I roll. Anyway, here goes!

1. hope for the future, teen wolf, derek hale/peter hale

First: As Derek flew back from his uncle's punch, he wondered just how he hadn't realized sooner that Peter was the alpha—that he was his alpha.

Last: He couldn't say he'd ever be be content with the past or that he was happy in the present, but for the first time in years he had hope for the future, and maybe that would be enough.

2. 3 Sentence Ficathon 2024: Teen Wolf, multiple pairings

First: Derek leans his head back so he can stare at the star-studded tree canopy overhead and thinks, not for the first time, that he will never get tired of seeing Stiles’ magic.

Last: “Easy for you and Derek to say—you were both born like this and you took away my chance to get out of this life,” Scott rages back, the arrows hitting Stiles in his soft parts just like they have every time he’s hurled them over the years since Stiles got him turned into a werewolf.

3. 3 Sentence Ficathon 2024: Chosen One, macy blake’s chosen one universe, multiple pairings

First: “I just feels it lacks a certain gravitas,” Eduard says, tugging at the hem of the denim jacket he considers so ugly he wonders if some of his mates are pulling a prank on him until he turns around and sees all eight of them staring at him in a distinctly horny fashion.

Last: “Fucking lions—you’re lucky I love you.”

4. with lightning in his hands, teen wolf, derek hale/peter hale/stiles stilinski

First: Stiles stares at the ruins of the Hale house and reflects that he perhaps should have taken Deaton more seriously when he told him starting to practice magic would change how he saw the world.

Last: All they have to do is wait for him to come.

5. time travel, teen wolf, derek hale/laura hale

First: Derek bursts through the door of his little apartment in New York City, yelling for his sister.

Last: "It all started in seven days from now for you and five years ago for me."

6. telepathy, black jewels, daemon sadi/lucivar yaslana

First: She’s not trustworthy.

Last: They exited the room without opposition, knowing their point was made and would not be forgotten.

7. dusk, the witcher, emhry var emreis/geralt of rivia

First: Geralt stands on the balcony outside of Emhyr’s rooms and watches the day fade into dusk

Last: Geralt could get used to having a family.

8. Trading Up, teen wolf, derek hale/stiles stilinski

First: Stiles and his (maybe?) girlfriend are walking down Main Street after dinner, holding hands and looking in the shop windows

Last: “Damnit, I need to see if I have to do actual work. While I’m checking my email, you should try to guess why Lydia didn’t turn into a werewolf. You’ll never get it, but it will entertain you while you wait,” Stiles tells Derek, then turns his attention to his laptop.

9. candy, macy blake’s chosen one universe, victor eastaughffe/orsen riggs & gus

First: “Bear!” Gus shrieks from his seat at the table.

Last: “You may have gummy bears after dinner, Gus.”

10. drift, perilous courts by tavia lark, julien sandry/whisper

First: Julien watches Whisper in the sunlight.

Last: “We’ll make sure we win.”

Tags: @dear-massacre @jammerific @shadow-wasser @thotpuppy @lavender-lotion @mrs-steve-harrington @bad-at-names-and-faces @definitively-different-drivel

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

Hello Gallifreyan Institue!! So recently my time lord has started talking about this woman called Tecteun? Apparently they were important or something? Who exactly are they?

Who is Tecteun?

Now, we're about to stir up quite a few debates over tea in the Panopticon. If your Time Lord has started talking about Tecteun, you've stumbled into some of Gallifreyan history's deepest, most secretive, and confusing lore.

🪐 The Shobogan Explorer

Tecteun started out as a Shobogan, the original inhabitants of ancient Gallifrey. Tecteun was one of the first Shobogans to venture into outer space, driven by an insatiable curiosity to explore other planets.

Somewhere along the way, they say Tecteun discovered something extraordinary: a child with mysterious origins, who would later be known as the Timeless Child. And here's where things get less straightforward.

🧬 The Birth of Regeneration

Some say the Timeless Child had a unique ability—regeneration. Tecteun wasn't content with just observing this phenomenon—she wanted in on it. She adopted the Timeless Child and began a series of experiments that would certainly interest child protection services.

After countless attempts, Tecteun finally cracked the code, unlocking the secret of regeneration. But she didn't stop there—Tecteun spliced this ability into her own DNA, allegedly becoming the first Gallifreyan to regenerate.

👑 A Founding Figure of Gallifrey

In his next incarnation, Tecteun supposedly played a pivotal role in the rise of Gallifreyan civilisation. The Shobogans evolved, building the grand Capitol, and with Tecteun at the helm, alongside the more famous figures of Rassilon and Omega, Gallifrey began its transformation into the powerful society we know today. These three are often called the Founding Triumvirate of Gallifrey - Rassilon, Omega, and the Other. Here, it's assumed Tecteun was the Other.

🌌 Tecteun and the Division

In one of Tecteun's later female incarnations, she took on a new role as the leader of the Division, a shadowy organisation operating from the Void after Gallifrey's destruction. The Division's mission started well enough, but it eventually came to operate in more morally dubious ways.

The Division were behind the creation of the Flux, a destructive force meant to reset the universe as part of the Division's grand design. In quite a large misjudgment, Tecteun released a Ravager named Swarm from imprisonment to further her goals, who unsurprisingly eventually killed her.

🏫 So ...

Tecteun's life and legacy is complicated. In the best version of history, Tecteun was a pioneer, a scientist and a leader. In the worst version ... well, make your own mind up. But remember, the history of Gallifrey isn't as straightforward as it might seem ... 🤔

Related:

Who are Swarm and Azure?: Profiles of these two scallywags.

What was the Flux?: What is was and how it happened.

Why is Rassilon everywhere?: Who Rassilon is and why he’s so important.

Hope that helped! 😃

Any purple text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →😆Jokes |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴