#there’s like half a scene left to write

[wheeboo]

paging dr. heartthrob | lee chan {TEASER}

SYNOPSIS. You can’t afford to be burnt out, especially during a crucial era of your life: being in medical school. Enter your best friend—a boy with a tough-looking exterior, a skateboard that’s seen better days, and a heart softer than his beat-up converse—Lee Chan, with his backpack full of snacks, and an uncanny ability to show up exactly when you need him most. He may not be a doctor, nor exactly your therapist, but he certainly is a heartthrob, and your heart can’t help but always page him. PAIRING. skater boy!lee chan x med student!reader (ft. lowkey stoner!vernon, med student!jeonghan, med student!joshua, soonyoung) GENRE. fluff, childhood best friends to lovers, angst, suggestive, hurt/comfort, college au WARNINGS (FOR THE TEASER). swearing, vaping and mention of weed, just silly banter between two "best friends" <3 WARNINGS (FOR FULL FIC). swearing, food and drinking mentions, suggestive, drug use (weed & vaping), so much fucking mutual pining!!!, reader is quite literally me so self-indulgent maybe?, reader is an overthinking anxious burnt-out mess :((, chan has a mullet, piercings, and tattoos yes (re: cough attacca dino cough), chan is a self-critical perfectionist oof, vague descriptions of minor injuries, mental health topics, medical terminology language, a scene of a panic attack WORD COUNT (FOR THE TEASER). 1.3k WORD COUNT (FOR FULL FIC). approx 20-25k

notes: hello, my little flowers! this is my teaser for the @camandemstudios "the lonely heart's cafe" collab <3. I'VE BEEN BLESSED TO FINALLY WRITE FOR LEE CHAN‼️if you would like to be tagged when this fic comes out, please send an ask or comment down below! sign up for the taglist for the entire collab here! please send all your love to the other authors who are participating in this as well !!

“You’re late,” he calls out, kicking the skateboard up into his hands and jogging over to meet you.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Blame my neuro attending. That man has the stamina of a marathon runner and the patience of a saint. Could rival Derek Shepherd, to be honest. I think I aged ten years today.” You set your bag down on the floor next to a nearby bench. “You didn’t wait long, did you?”

“Nah, not that long. You actually came before Vernon𑁋he left his vape here,” Chan says while fishing the vape out of his pocket and taking a shameless hit from it, a cloud of vapour floating into the air when he exhales, before offering it to you with a teasing grin. “Want a hit?”

You scrunch your nose, shaking your head with a laugh. “Offering me, a med student, that shit is crazy. My lungs are precious thank you, unlike you and Vernon.”

“Tell that to those bozos.” He points to the noisy teenagers at the other side of the park, before sitting right next to you on the bench. “Can’t even roll over there without getting smacked in the face with weed.”

Your smile falters just slightly as you watch him lean back, his face tilting towards the darkening sky. The dim light of the streetlamps catches on the curve of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the relaxed purse of his lips, and highlights the dragon tattoo that snakes up his arm. He looks... peaceful. Content. Like the world isn’t asking too much from him tonight, like there’s no weight of expectations pressing on his shoulders, unlike you.

“I messed up today during clinicals,” You randomly confess, making Chan turn toward you. “There was this patient today… a girl. Seventeen years old, has a tumour that’s basically about to split her brain in half. I kept arguing with my attending about treatments, and I was so sure I was right𑁋that we could do something more about it𑁋but in the end, I just... made it worse. I felt like such an idiot, because… because there wasn’t anything we could do. She only has one chance with surgery, and she took it, despite her low chances of surviving.”

Chan listens to you, his eyes gentle and thoughtful, understanding but not pitying. It’s the same way he used to listen when you were venting back in high school, always patient, never rushing you to fix yourself or your emotions.

“You’re not an idiot,” he tells you, but his tone is nothing like a scold. “You care. That’s the difference. Not everyone would have fought that hard for her, even if you didn’t win. You’ve got a heart the size of the ocean, dude, you know?” 

You smile faintly, chest tightening a little to his words. “The mother-fucking ocean?”

Chan grins at your lightheartedness, nudging you with his elbow. “Yeah, the mother-fucking ocean. You’re stubborn as hell, but you’ve got that heart. And that’s what makes you good at what you do. It’s what makes you you.”

You look down almost in guilt from his words, watching as you unconsciously play with your fingers in your lap. You don’t know why, but it hits harder than usual tonight, and for the briefest moment, you feel the rush of everything you’ve been holding back𑁋the exhaustion, the frustration, the feeling that you’ve been carrying more than your fair share of weight these days. They almost threaten to burst out of you, but right now, they don’t. Not yet at least.

“You’re gonna be a good doctor, you know?” Chan continues. “I don’t even have to be a doctor to know that. You just… you get it. You’re going to go out there and do great things. Maybe even better things than me.”

You almost want to laugh at that, almost want to tell Chan just how much shit he’s done that is far greater than what you could ever dream of. You’re not sure if he realises it himself𑁋how great he is, how much you admire him, love him𑁋but you think you could spend more than a lifetime telling him just that if you could. 

You feel your heart do that familiar flip again, but this time, you let it pass. Maybe you’ve been avoiding these feelings for too long, but the truth is, they’ve been there for as long as you can remember. You can’t exactly pinpoint the moment these feelings shifted from friendship to something more𑁋maybe it was when he helped you get through the first few years of high school, or when he held your hand during a school dance, not in some romantic gesture but because you were scared of your anxiety acting up𑁋but it’s always been there. He’s always been there. 

“I… Thank you, Chan,” You say softly. Then you tilt your head back, looking at the same sky he is, feeling the heaviness in your chest ease just a little. “You’re kind of annoying, you know that? But you’re also... you’re really great yourself. Like, better-than-I-deserve great.”

Chan just chuckles at that. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, turning his head slightly to look at you. “That’s probably the dumbest thing you’ve ever said, and I’ve heard a lot of dumb shit from you.”

“Wow, okay. Forget all that I said then,” You retort back playfully, shaking your head and crossing your arms together. “You’re the worst person alive, actually.”

When you’re busy gazing up at the sky above, Chan turns to you. His eyes flit over you, taking in the way your eyelashes slowly bat together from tiredness, how your lips are slightly curled up in relaxation, how your features glow from the singular street lamp illuminating the skate park. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and glances away, his thoughts racing faster than he can keep up with.

“You meant it though, right?” he asks.

“What?” You question, turning towards him. 

“About me being great or whatever.” You can tell he’s trying to brush off the hesitation, but you sense the uncertainty in his voice. “You meant it?”

Out of all times, you wonder why he’s questioning it right now at almost midnight in the middle of the skate park. You’ve told him countless times how great he is, always hyping him up for skate competitions and giving him comfort on the times he’s down himself. Why… is he suddenly asking if you meant it?

“Well, I… Of course, I meant it,” You respond, catching his eye. “Why wouldn’t I?”

For a few moments, there’s just silence, comfortable, a pinch of awkward𑁋a word you can pretty much never associate with your interactions together𑁋yet heavy. The way Chan’s features soften on his face from your words seem more important than the stars blinking up in the sky right now. 

Then all it takes is a tiny giggle from him, and you can’t help but groan.

“Oh no,” You grumble pesteringly, shooting him an exasperated glance, but your tone is light, teasing. “I fueled your ego now, didn’t I?” 

“Yep. I can walk around like I’m the best thing since sliced bread,” Chan jokes, puffing out his chest with pride. “My greatness has been confirmed by a certified medical professional.”

“Whatever, big head,” You sneer back playfully. 

Chan stretches out a bit more on the bench, his legs extending and his arms behind his head. You can tell he’s getting more comfortable too, probably ready to call it a night, just like you, and you can’t help but let yourself soften a little.

Without thinking, you shift your body and lean your head down and gently rest it in Chan’s lap. His body stiffens for a moment as if he wasn’t expecting it, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he lets you settle, and after a beat, his hand comes to gently rest in your hair, and something tugs at your heartstrings from the feeling. Your eyes slowly flutter to a close.

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[resident-rats]

Me: I’m not writing anything until this metaltango fic is done

Me rn: is 1.5k words into a Serennedy week prompt 😭

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Normal boy spotted.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[nerdie-faerie]

TVDu was all 'family is really important to the Mikaelsons, they have a whole saying about it' only to turn around and be like oh yeah that only applies to three of the siblings though !?! what!!?! how dare you!!

[wikiangela]

seven sentence sunday

tagged by @diazsdimples @theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @daffi-990 💖💖

after waaay too long - the alive shannon fic is baaaack! my beloved <3 finally got through a scene I was stuck at (more or less, it'll get improved when I edit lol) and made quite a bit of progress! so here's a few sentences from the ladder truck bombing! (Buck's POV has been fighting me so hard, Eddie's is always easier bc he just takes over and does his thing, and Buck apparently doesn't wanna cooperate with me lol) this is very rough and needs lots of editing - but at least I'm finally making progress so here it is 🤣

prev snippet

___

It all happens so quickly he barely remembers the actual explosion. But he knows that there’s a split second, somewhere between sitting in the ladder truck, and lying on the ground, covered in blood, ears ringing, in excruciating pain and unable to move his leg – there’s a second between all that where he genuinely thinks he’s going to die. That’s it, the end, without so much as a chance to say goodbye to Maddie, to Bobby, to Hen and Chim, to- to Eddie and Christopher. To anyone he loves. For a second he’s convinced he’ll never get to talk to any of them again, that he won’t get to talk to Bobby, eat his delicious cooking during a family dinner, that he won’t get teased by Hen and Chim for something dumb he does for a hundredth time in a week. That he won’t get to see his sister heal and find happiness and love again, that he won’t get to see Chimney treating her like she deserves, like Buck knows he will. He’s scared he won’t get to hang out with Eddie, the best friend he’s ever had, that the short time they had together was all he’ll ever get. That he won’t get the privilege Eddie’s already granting him of watching Christopher grow up, of being there for him whenever he’d need him. A split second, and he thinks his life is ending, that’s it for Evan Buckley, leaving this world forever, not even leaving a mark behind, probably getting forgotten by everyone but his family, sooner or later even them. For a second he thinks, maybe it’s okay, maybe it’s better that it’s him than anyone else.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @911onabc @housewifebuck @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @pirrusstuff @wildlife4life @nmcggg @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @king-buckley @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @hoodie-buck @jeeyuns @steadfastsaturnsrings @puppyboybuckley @weewootruck @honestlydarkprincess @buckaroosheart @spagheddiediaz @disasterbuckdiaz @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @exhuastedpigeon @jesuisici33 @rainbow-nerdss @malewifediaz @spotsandsocks @giddyupbuck @fortheloveofbuddie

[averlym]

"one day, i cut him an apple. when he saw it, he laughed" (click for better resolution!) ,,, tag from @elliotly

[lorelune]

band au blade fic is almost done :3c

[grayintogreen]

I am counting the days until my vacation (15 and counting). I am so burned out that even my hobbies are too difficult, so I’m just doing what I can and not kicking myself too much about it, but holy fuck July sure happened A LOT. And I just have to keep going to work even though I want to be nowhere near other humans right now.

[timeclipsed]

— ;; Snowfall premature to its conventional end-of-the-year debut has the streets coated in a pearly blanket of frost, amply bundled denizens scurrying to-and-fro all around.

Catenating after the Doctor, miscellaneous bits of scrap tucked underarms, Tails is no different. Muffs, gloves, a scarf and a puffy coat protecting him from the gelid onslaught, he pauses as they pass the obtuse front window of one of the many shops lining the road. Gazing into its displayed setup of festive décor, awe consumes his features as he tilts his head, craning it to peer at Robotnik, whose bootprints leave a rhythmic impression on their path back to the shop the further he gets.

❝Feels like winter took forever to get here this year,❞ he comments, ocean eyes searing into the back of the skull in such a way that prompts the other to pause as well, finally turning back, ❝when we disappeared a few months ago, I thought the year would go by just like that. But… wow.❞

— ;; Quirking a brow, Robotnik stares at Tails from behind those dense ocular spectacles, as if attempting to discern the actual tone behind his words. Momentarily processing, before deciding with certainty that Tails is not, in fact, being sarcastic for once, he gives a rather desiccant reply.

❝You do realize it’s been more than “a few months”, don’t you boy?❞ 

— ;; Hustle and bustle, brumal static in the air, incoherent chatter from all around fully stands still, just like that. Torpidly, his heart suddenly ringing in his ears, Tails turns his head to meet Robotnik’s confused expression, his own twisting into something of mortified disenchantment.

❝…What?❞ Faintly, the singular leading query spills from Tails’ lips, in disbelief of what’s been stated. Lowering wide eyes to their feet, subconsciously observing the frigid fractals that land all around, making the snow its only home. ❝You… you’re lying. I don't believe you. ...How long… has it been?❞

Contemplating for a second, and with the click of a tongue, Robotnik answers, ❝I’d wager it’s been somewhere around fifteen or sixteen months. Did you honestly think time wouldn’t continue to pass from where—❞

❝My birthday,❞ interjecting before he can finish his mordacious remark, Tails’ head whips back up to stare desperately, ❝did my birthday pass?❞

❝I figured you'd have noticed on your own, but it came and went.❞

— ;; Resisting the sudden urge to disgorge, to stain the sleek sheet of ivory into a versicolor canvas of bodily suppuration, the congery of stray mechanical pieces cascades from his tenacious grasp instead, spilling all around their feet.

❝How—❞ cadence oscillating, forcing back the voluminous lump plaguing his throat, ragged breaths leaving puffs of cold air in front of him, he dares to ask. ❝—H-How old am I?❞

❝Fifteen,❞ Robotnik answers with lukewarm certainty as he hunches to collect the discarded parts. ❝You’d be fifteen at the moment.❞

— ;; Quailing to the ground right then, clammy knees pressing into the cold, Tails barely even registers lissome hands webbing ‘round his form effortlessly, gathering everything in calculated silence. That’s it; that’s all he’d needed to hear for any sense of stability he’d had to come toppling down, thousands of miniscule fragments spilling out like hail that rubs against his bare arms, leaving him with freezer burnt welts—

—Leaving his entire world dark, ensnared in a Cimmerian cloister whose clutches stretch with emptiness as far as the eye can see in any direction.

❝You ne- you never told me—❞

❝It’s not my job to make sure you’re keeping your head on straight, boy. Get up.❞

— ;; Breathless, as if he’d just been gutted, all he can do is shake his head, collapsing sideways into the snow. Legs curling to meet his chest, arms folding around them and holding tight as if they, too, would disappear were he to release them. After a moment, he hears Robotnik scoff.

❝Do you want to lie here and freeze to death? You’re acting ridiculous.❞

— ;; Readying a snarky response, any form of quip to get the Doctor off his back, his mouth grows agape, but no sound comes. Neither in the way of movement; he feels locked up, glued to the ground in this manner. Silence, having befallen the pair, grows thick with every passing moment, until the point at which it’s shattered by Robotnik’s swivel of the heel, restarting the earlier trek towards the workshop.

❝When you’re feeling up to acting your age and rejoining society, I’ll be back at work. Lest you decide you want to perish from hypothermia, at which case I would advise you to expect an unmarked grave and an empty funeral.❞

— ;; But Tails doesn’t hear, curling those namesakes around his body in some feeble attempt to self-assuage. Tears, tepid in comparison to the weather, drizzle down his face, melting small holes into the snow beneath as they roll off his cheeks lopsidedly.

He realizes in that moment that he will never know home again.

[direwombat]

tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton (tysm~!)

tagging @trench-rot, @cassietrn, @strangefable, @voidika, @madparadoxum, @adelaidedrubman, @aceghosts, @josephslittledeputy, @inafieldofdaisies, @g0dspeeed, @simplegenius042, @miyabilicious, @strafethesesinners, @confidentandgood, @jillvalentinesday, @poetikat, and anyone else with something to share! (to be added/removed from the taglist, please like/unlike this post here!)

once again i am bringing you some werewolf au, first a bit of syb just trying so hard to do her job, and another snippet from jacob's pov of him continuing to be a violent and possessive creep <3 (also just for context, at the start of the first snippet, they're talking about renovations being done to st francis.

“Quite the project you’ve got goin’ here,” she remarks. “How long’ve’ya been workin’ on the place?”

“Couple months,” he answers, but doesn’t offer anything further. 

Jesus, this is gonna be like pullin’ teeth, ain’t it? So, she tries again. “Y’all’ve worked fast,” she hums, pointedly admiring the work done and emphasizing her awe -- give his ego a little stroke. “Good craftsmanship too, by the look of it. Think you’ll finish it all before winter?”

He tilts his chin up, puffing his chest out -- preening ever so slightly at her words. Yeah, that’s what I thought, she thinks. 

“That’s the goal,” he nods. 

But, once again, he doesn’t volunteer any more information. So, she presses once more. “What’re ya gonna do with it once it’s done?”

He pulls to an abrupt stop outside a set of french doors and gives her a stern look and folds his arms over his chest. “Is this pertinent to your investigation, Deputy?”

She blinks, taken a bit back. “Well, no --” 

“Then I’m not obligated to answer that.” He grasps the door’s handle, pushes it open, and steps inside. 

Sybille narrows her eyes, focusing on the point on his back where his shoulder blades meet. “You realize that makes you sound suspicious,” she says evenly, and she follows him into a large office. The walls are covered in renovation plans -- blueprints, schematics, and various paint swatches cover every last inch. Even more documents and plans lay scattered across the desk, and tucked away in the corner is a small cot. The bed has been made, the corners of the worn green blanket are tucked neatly at the corners. Army regulation.

Wonder if he slept here last night?

“And you realize you can’t do a damn thing about it,” he says shortly. “Private property is private property, Deputy. What we do here is our business.” He strides over to the desk and fishes a ring of keys out from one of the top drawers. “Now, if you have any questions that are actually relevant to your investigation, I’d be happy to answer them. You and I both have more important things to do than engage in chit-chat.”Giving the bulk of the keys a little flip around where his finger is hooked through the ring, he walks back over to her and gestures to the door. “After you.” 

Were she a smaller or less hardened woman, she might have been cowed by how he towers over her. There are some people who intimidate as easily as they breathe, and it’s become clear to her that Jacob Seed is just That Kind of man. Even his “after you,” a phrase and gesture that’s so becoming of a Southern Gentleman from Georgia, hides within it a direct order. A command she is expected to obey, lest she break the social parlance.

It’s not a fight worth having, so she nods and shuffles out of the office. The door clicks shut behind the two of them, and they begin walking back towards the courtyard. 

“So,” she tries again, once again falling in step beside him, “how late were you here last night?”

“All night,” he grunts. 

So, he did sleep here last night. “Anyone else with you?” To confirm your alibi? She doesn’t say. 

“No.” 

“You hear anything strange last night?” 

“No,” he repeats. 

She frowns. “What about any wolves howlin’?” 

He glances down at her from the corner of his eye and snorts. “This is wolf country, Deputy. I hear wolves around here nightly. It’d be strange if I didn’t hear them howling.”

“How about screamin’? Or gunshots goin’ off?”

“Do you know what a mountain lion sounds like, Deputy?” Jacob asks. 

“Pardon?”

“If you don’t know what you’re hearing, the call of a mountain lion sounds a lot like a human scream. Most accounts of people claiming a forest is haunted because they heard shrieking, are just people hearing mountain lions,” he explains dismissively. 

“Fascinating,” she answers flatly. “Doesn’t answer my question, though.” 

He sighs heavily, as if frustrated that his half-assed question for an answer wasn’t satisfactory to her. “No, Deputy. I didn’t hear any screaming or gunshots last night.” 

and a bonus jakey pov of him continuing to be creepy <;e3

As tempted as he is to give the Deputy the run around -- to see just how fast and far she’d run to catch him -- she doesn’t give him the option to. Her cruiser’s front bumper never strays more than a few feet of his own back one, making it explicitly clear that she isn’t just going to let him take off with the beast currently held on the bed of his truck. 

Besides, after smelling the shift in her scent when he picked the Feral up and carried it to his truck, he decided that playing nice, at least for the time being, would give him what he wants. The quickening of her pulse and the sweet, albeit suppressed smell of her arousal at his display of strength told him everything he needed to know. She’ll deny it -- loyal women like her always will -- but there’s a part of her that’s drawn to him. 

She likes that he’s strong. 

Picking up a dead body is nothing, his Wolf salivates. Let her see what we could do to Eli. Show her how strong we really are.

His grip around the steering wheel tightens until his knuckles turn white and he glances at his rear-view mirror. She’s driving with one hand on the wheel while her other arm is draped through her open window, a cigarette dangling from her fingers. Do it, the Wolf urges. We know where he lives. We can end this little problem right now. His fingers move of their own accord and he barely catches himself before subconsciously flipping his signal to turn back north. 

No, he barks back. She’s human and has human sensibilities. She wouldn’t react to the normal mating rituals the same way a fellow werewolf would. He needs to be patient. Careful. If he’s going to pursue her, he has to treat it more akin to a hunt, rather than a courtship. He needs to lure her out; get her to trust him so that when she gets injured or frightened she comes running to him rather than Eli -- he needs to prove to her that he can protect and provide for her. 

It isn’t enough to force her to be his. He needs her to choose him over Eli. Her submission to him needs to be voluntary. That way, when he finally does destroy the Hunter, he’ll do it in every way conceivable. He’ll break his spirit first, then his body. Maybe he’ll claim her in front of him. Just to see the betrayed look in his eyes when Jacob kills the love he thought he had. Just to make him hear how his dear, sweet Deputy howls like a bitch in heat, begging him to bury his knot inside her cunt and fill her with his pups.

Eli Palmer will die a humiliated and broken man.

His Wolf makes a low, pleased growl and is placated by the thought. Fine. The sheep suit can stay on, for now.

[twicethetrouble]

Day 1 of Daily Writing Family Web

“Do you feel like there's something missing?”

Leo looked up from his phone and towards his twin. Donnie was awake again, lightly scratching his fingers against the scarf just to feel the fabric. His focus solely on said scarf to the point where Leo almost questioned whether he was speaking to him or not.

“Like legitimately or are you just asking because you're high on glitter slime,” Leo asked, head tilted to get a better glance at Donnie.

Donnie shot him a glare.

“I'm not high, I’m drowsy,” he muttered. “They're different.”

“Not by much,” Leo said with a shrug. “Either would be enough to get you to ask weird, hypothetical questions like this, apparently.”

“Forget I asked,” he grumbled, looking away once again.

“Wait, were you serious?”

“Not anymore,” Donnie muttered.

“But why?” Leo asked, shifting on the spare mattress so he was properly facing his twin.

“Just drop it.”

“Yeah, no can do,” Leo said. “Now what's up?”

Donnie stayed silent out of spite.

“Come on, Dee. Share with the class,” Leo goaded. Donnie ignored him further. “You know I’ll just pester you for the rest of the day until you doooo...”

“You're my least favorite brother,” Donnie stated.

“I'm sure,” Leo said dismissively. “So?”

“Defeated sigh,” Donnie muttered to himself before continuing. “I don't...properly know. It just feels like there's something missing sometimes.”

“Like now?”

“Possibly,” Donnie said.

“What's missing?”

“I don't know,” Donnie stressed. “Something. Like we used to have something, something important, but we don't anymore. And we haven't had it in so long we don't even remember what we're missing.”

“But you can tell something used to be there, just enough to miss it,” Leo finished for him.

“Yes,” Donnie said, his shoulders losing some of the tenseness he had gained during the conversation. There was silence between the two for a long moment. It was nice, until Leo broke it.

“Nope, doesn't sound familiar,” he said with a shrug.

Donnie glared at him again, this time smacking him in the back of the head with his foot.

“Rude!”

“I'm disowning you,” Donnie informed him. “April's my new twin now. You're just an annoying dumdum turtle I happen to live with.”

“That's uncalled for. And definitely not how twins work,” Leo tried to argue.

“It does now, ex-twin,” Donnie muttered.

“You must be feeling better if you're coherent enough to disown me,” Leo joked. Donnie shrugged halfheartedly, but otherwise ignored him.

[mayorofcattown]

me: damn why is this chapter taking so much longer to finish than all the others, it's not that much longer than the other ones righ-

the chapter's wordcount:

[inevitablestars]

getting to the scene that started a fic like The Scene is so.... like what now! we did it we got where we needed to for this... it took 98k but like now we're there and what do i do after this

[spilling-blood]

Goal today is reading, and writing on The way out is through because of the Kunikida thoughts.

[whoblewboobear]

I have never written sincere het smut in my life and yet the end of chapter 6 might be the best thing I’ve ever done I-

[jewishbuckley]

“You introduced me as your boyfriend.”

Not a question – a statement, and with that statement the smile falters on Evan’s face. It’s brief, almost undetectable, but not to Tommy. Being with Evan means hearing what he’s saying, but also seeing what he’s not saying, because whatever Evan has gone through in the past makes him guarded, and that’s what Tommy sees now.

Evan is smiling but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, his fingers have knotted together, and his shoulders are hunched – bracing for the rejection he thought he knew was coming. "I did. Was that not okay?"

“It was more than okay,” he is quick to say, voice soft as if he might spook him, and he closes the distance between them in a couple large strides. “It was great. Just… unexpected but in a good way.” He takes Evan’s hands in his, unknotting his fingers from each other to slot their fingers together instead, and he senses the tension melt from Evan’s shoulders with his words and actions.

“I’m glad,” Evan whispers, breath fanning across Tommy’s face, and this time his smile reaches his eyes.