#this is a crossover that amuses me and me Only but hot damn am I eating good rn

[skyafied]

YO!! I finally [FINALLY] got around to finishing Horizon: Zero Dawn the other day and I just. Could not get them out of my mind

Did you know that these two share a voice actor and that now I am plummeting deeper and deeper into brainrot every waking moment

Anyways here are some other quick concept sketches for what tribes I think the other mercs would be in!!!

Hopefully I will get around to doing more completed refs for these guys later!!

[snelbz]

Reckoning and Retribution {3}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, House of Earth and Blood, & Throne of Glass Crossover, Western AU fanfiction.

Based on a prompt sent in for the 4k follower contest {winner}, from Anonymous: “Ok hear me out: WILD WEST AU CROSSOVER”

@snelbz​ / @tacmc

It was Saturday morning, which meant that the market was set up in town, every local farmer and gardener, and even some from other towns and territories, out to sell their goods. Elide loved Saturdays, loved deciding what she would be baking that week. She loved to bake, her mother used to bake, and she used to help in whatever way she could before her mother’s untimely death. 

“You should bake banana bread,” Aelin crooned, looping her arm through Elide’s. “You make the most wonderful banana bread.” 

“I do make wonderful banana bread,” Elide agreed, with a grin. 

At the end of the market, up by Hunt’s saloon, Lorcan Salvaterre was leaning up against a post, the brim of his hat pulled down over his eyes, smoking a cigar.

Elide couldn’t shake the feeling that he was watching her, that he had been since their abrupt meeting earlier in the week. His gaze didn’t unsettle her like it should have though. She often found herself meeting those dark eyes, and just when she thought he may approach her, something would steal one of their attention or he’d glance away.

“What a waste of a second chance.”

Elide glanced up at her oldest friend. She followed her line of sight and found that they were looking at the same man. “Why would you say that?”

“He’s awfully cocky,” Aelin said, with pure disdain. “And horribly rude.”

Elide had to admit that he wasn’t exactly welcoming during their encounter, but he didn’t seem that horrible. 

Aelin lifted a brow. “Judging by your silence, I’m assuming you disapprove of my judgement.”

“It’s not that I disapprove,” she said, slowly. “I’m just...intrigued by him.”

“Intrigued…” Aelin mused, letting the word hang between them. “I wasn’t even aware you two had made an acquaintance.”

“I wouldn’t even say we’re acquaintances,” she muttered, stepping away from Aelin to inspect a stand full of exotic fruits. “We’ve only spoken once.”

“And when was that?”

The question wasn’t accusatory, but there was indeed an edge to Aelin’s voice that hadn’t been there before.

Elide sighed and turned around to look at her friend. She was off duty today, so she was dressed as Elide was used to seeing her: full, ruffled skirts, corset cinched tight at the waist and her hair was curled and pinned back off her face, which was elegantly accented by the cosmetics she used every day. She looked like a lady waiting for a ball, not the local deputy of a small town.

“A couple days after you started working with Sheriff Whitethorn,” Elide said, moving on to the next stall. Knives and blades and weapons and bullets and all manners of destruction and death were laid out before her. She made to move on, but they’d caught Aelin’s eye and she moved in.

“When you were dropping off my gift basket, I assume,” she asked, picking up a small, wicked looking dagger. Elide nodded, knowing Aelin had worked out the rest.

She’d ranted to her for an hour the other night after she’d come in and found his muddy boots propped up on her desk. Half the goodies in the basket were gone, too, though Rowan had admitted to eating quite a few of them.

“Mm.” Aelin said nothing else as she examined the dagger, it’s intricate filigree handle shining in the morning light, and found a suitable thigh holster for it. She paid the stall owner an egregious amount of money and turned to Elide. “I feel like you’re going to disregard everything I say and are going to attempt to befriend that surly brute of a man, so I would like you to be prepared, just in case.”

Elide blinked as Aelin pushed the small dagger and leather holster into her hand. “I can’t use this.”

“I’d prefer you not have to,” Aelin sighed, “but I’d rather you be safe than sorry.”

Elide hesitated, but Aelin was already walking away. After hurrying to catch up and match her pace, Elide was saying, “You know that I have never used a weapon, not once.” 

“Perhaps I should give you a lesson?” Aelin asked, something new already catching her eye.

Elide sighed as she, once again, had to hurry after her oldest friend. 

“I won’t even have to use it, Aelin,” Elide protested, looping her arm through Aelin’s to slow her down. “And I am not going to...befriend him.”

Aelin snorted. “You forget how well I know you, Miss Lochan.”

“Oh, trust me, Miss Galathynius, I am fully aware,” Elide said. “You know me as well as I know you, which is why I believe you’re being over dramatic about Mr. Salvaterre.”

A blonde eyebrow raised. “Mister, hmm?”

“Drop it, Aelin,” Elide said, picking up a new bundle of chalk sticks for her classroom. The pieces the children were having to use we’re becoming so short, their writing was becoming near illegible. Well, more illegible, in the case of her younger students. She snagged a bottle of ink as well and before she could reach for her money pouch, Aelin had paid the man. She didn’t bother thanking her friend, knowing she’d wave the praise off anyways. “There’s nothing going on between Lorcan Salvaterre and I.”

“Well that’s a damn shame.”

Aelin and elide turned, finding the man himself standing behind them.

“Miss Lochan,” he drawled, tipping his hat. “Deputy.”

“Mister Salvaterre, good morning,” Elide gave him a friendly curtsy and continued on her way, pausing at a stall that sold little trinkets and jewelry.

Once she was out of earshot, Aelin turned to Lorcan. “Don’t even think about touching her.”

His gaze was amused. “And what made you think I would, Deputy?” 

The way he said Deputy made Aelin want to punch him in the throat.

“She’s a kind woman,” Aelin went on. “You will not do anything to cause her harm or ruin.”

Lorcan grinned, wild and vicious. “You make it sound like she fancies me. Has she taken a liking to me, Deputy Galathynius?”

The fact that he used her title as a form of mockery had her hands curling into fists at her sides.

“Aelin, are you coming?”

The pair turned to where Elide waited a few stalls ahead. She called, “Give me just a moment.”

Elide nodded and continued sorting through the fabrics the seller offered.

Turning back to glare at Lorcan, Aelin breathed. “I don’t like you. I don’t trust you. If it weren’t for my promise to protect this town and all who live in it — including you, apparently — I’d put a bullet between your eyes and wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep over it. Rowan tearing up the warrant for your arrest was the most reckless thing he’s ever done. Now, don’t make me repeat this, ” She was a solid foot shorter than him, but as she said the words, Lorcan felt as if he was being talked down to. Like a child. “Leave. Her. Alone.”

His eyes turned dark, hard, as his jaw locked. “Fine, if it means that much to you.”

“It does,” Aelin snapped, picking up her skirts as she stormed to Elide’s side, leaving Lorcan behind.

Elide blinked as Aelin approached, frowning. “Is everything alright? What’s happened?”

“Nothing,” Aelin said, forcing a bright smile. “Let us continue on with our morning.”

Sighing and linking her arm with Aelin’s once more, Elide did just that. After they’d shopped for a few more minutes and Elide had decided she had enough supplies for the week, they were making for her cabin at the far end of town. It was a bit of a walk, but the ladies didn’t care, not wanting to saddle horses. It was such a hassle, and now that she was used to trousers, Aelin just didn’t want to mess with it.

“So,” Aelin began as they walked up the steps of Elide’s little house. “Aside from the fabulous banana bread you’ll be making me, what other goodies will you be baking this week?”

Elide listed off a menagerie of delicious desserts and baked goods. “A peach cobbler, oatmeal and cranberry cookies, blueberry crumble, a couple pies, and a chocolate and stone ground oat cake.”

Aelin’s eyes were wide. “Such a wide variety. What for?”

The tips of Elide’s ears turned red and Aelin certainly noticed as she began to blush. “Mister Salvaterre’s welcome basket.”

Aelin froze as she followed her friend into her house.

Oh, this was not good.

* * * * * * * * *

Bryce loved the silence.

Lying on her bed, she opened the new novel Hunt had given her the day before.

A gift, he had said, and wouldn’t take no for an answer when she had told him that she couldn’t accept. 

She was grateful for it.

It had been so long since she had been given a gift, had owned something new. She couldn’t wait to lose herself in the story, if even for a few moments, to get out of the living hell she was in.

A quiet knock sounded on her door. She tightened the sash of the dressing gown she wore around her waist. “Just a minute,” she called.

She made herself appropriate before opening the door, finding Hunt on the other side.

“Hunt-.”

Her quiet words were cut off as he crashed his lips against hers and softly shut the door behind him. When he finally pulled back, Bryce was breathless.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

“Come on, grab your things,” he said, looking around the room for a bag. The room was lavish and luxurious and the furnishings probably cost more than Hunt’s entire saloon, deed, ale, whiskey and all. “Maeve just left. Feyre is watching the bar. Let’s go.”

Bryce hesitated. “Go? Go where?”

Hunt took her face into his large, calloused hands. The look in his eyes was wild, determined. “It’s our chance. Now is our chance.”

Bryce closed her eyes. “Hunt-.”

“Please,” he breathed, his breath hot against her mouth. “Please, Bryce-.”

“I can’t go anywhere,” she whispered, forcing her eyes not to well up with tears. “You know I can’t go anywhere.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she pressed on. “Cairn will find us, you know that. What happened to Clare, to Isaac… I won’t let that happen to you.”

Hung closed his eyes, letting his forehead fall against hers. He knew she was right, knew if they had any hope of getting out of this town alive, it would cost them an egregious amount of money.

Otherwise, they’d be paying with their lives.

Clare Beddor and Isaac Hale were proof of that. After they ran away in the dead of night, Clare’s debt unpaid, it only took two weeks for Cairn to bring back her lifeless body and his decapitated head. His mouth hung open in a wide, never ending scream. It was tossed into an unmarked grave somewhere on the property, but Clare…

Maeve had made a few extra bucks off of her, thanks to the few sick fucks who lived in this town.

This was her life, and there was no getting out of it, no matter how many sleepless nights she spent wondering how she could get out of her debt.

But there was no way.

It was hopeless to dream.

“Bryce,” Hunt whispered, bringing her back to reality.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and she meant it, even though it meant nothing. “You need to let this go, Hunt. I’m a lost cause.”

“Don’t say that,” he begged, just as he always did.

Every time he did it broke her heart.

“I’m making an offer to Maeve on Monday.”

Her head snapped up and her eyes met his. “What?”

He wrapped her up in his arms. She rested her head against his chest, listened to the heart beating inside. The heart that belonged to her, in every way. “I’ve saved up enough for your freedom, with some extra. With what you’ve…earned… We have to be close, Bryce.”

She heard the words he specified. Your freedom. But not Danika’s.

“It’ll be a few more years, Hunt-.”

“No, damn it, I refuse to believe that.” He tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him. He whispered, “I wish you never would have made that bargain.”

She shook her head. There was no dwelling on it now. What’s done is done, and besides… “I don’t. Not if it kept her safe.”

Copying her motion, Hunt shook his head, his loose hair shaking with the motion. “For two weeks, Bryce?”

The sob that tore from Bryce was heartbreaking.

When she was eight years old, her father had ripped she and Ruhn from their beds, with no explanation, and they’d left the small town they called home. Years later, they’d realize it was because he’d killed Bryce’s mother in a fit of rage. If only that was the worst thing their piece of shit father had done.

Just a few years later, the family, with their young ward, Danika Fendyr, visited Rose Creek on their way west, as far west as they could go. Their father had gotten drunk beyond measure, the former owner of the saloon supplying as much whiskey as any one man could consume. He’d run out of money during his poker game, and needed a few new bargaining chips. He had three.

Bryce and Danika were sold to Maeve, while Ruhn was shipped off to the mines.

The girls were only sixteen when they were to begin selling their bodies, their souls, on behalf of Bryce’s father’s debt. Bryce’s birthday came first, Danika’s just a month later. A week before Danika’s unveiling, Bryce made Maeve a deal. 

Her life for Danika’s. Double the price, double the debt, Bryce promised Maeve double everything, if only she said yes.

Maeve agreed.

Danika went free.

She protested, told Bryce she was an idiot as she wept and wrapped her arms around Bryce. Bryce told her best friend, her sister, to go free, to make something of herself.

She deserved as much.

Less than two weeks later, just days after Danika turned sixteen, she was killed by a bandit, a robbery gone bad, making the sacrifice Bryce made worthless. 

She had doubled her debt for two weeks of Danika’s freedom, and she had been paying off that debt ever since. 

“I don’t care the price, I don’t care how long it takes,” he promised. “One day, you and I are going to leave this town, and we’re never going to look back.”

“Hunt!”

The cry from downstairs was a warning, their time was short.

“Go,” Bryce breathed, her tears at last running down her face. “You can’t be up here when she gets back.”

He knew that, knew that he wouldn’t be the one to bear the punishment if they were to get caught. He nodded, pressing another kiss to her forehead, then her lips, letting it say all the words he couldn’t out loud. 

I’m sorry.

I’ll get you out.

I love you.

* * * * * * * *

Exhaustion dwelled in every inch of Ruhn’s body as he followed Aedion, Declan, and Flynn into the saloon. That exhaustion did not stop him, though, he had things to do, those to protect, even if he could only do it from afar.

Anything else would get him shot. 

Or hanged. 

All they had to do was raise their hands in greeting to Hunt before plopping down around a table. A minute later, Feyre came carrying a jug of ale and four mugs. 

“Good evening, gentlemen,” Feyre crooned, setting it all in the middle of the table.

“I don’t see any gentlemen here,” Flynn muttered with a smirk. 

“True,” Feyre agreed, “but any other sort of greeting just seemed rude.”

Aedion’s attention was immediately on the striking brunette across the room. She was primped and preened and the smile on her face showed everyone how much fun she was having at the saloon, being passed from lap to lap.

That smile was the biggest crock of shit Ruhn had ever seen. It was the same smile he saw on Bryce’s face and Nesta’s and all the other girls who had to lay on their backs just to keep their families fed or protected.

Promising to come back if they needed anything, Feyre flitted off, refilling the glasses of whiskey the sheriff and his newest deputy had sitting on their table. The man in black intrigued Ruhn, but he wasn’t one to start a conversation and make new friends. Especially with a man he was sure had killed people.

It was slow, for a Saturday night, if Lysandra was down on the floor of the saloon. Either that or she was a walking billboard for the services Maeve offered. Since he didn’t see his sister, Ruhn was inclined to believe the latter.

So instead he kept an eye on Feyre, tracking her as she moved from table to table, carefully watching every hand that came close to her.

It seemed that Feyre was fairly good at taking care of herself, and Hunt watched her like a hawk, but still, as he watched Feyre flutter around the floor, watching every man she passed watch after her with a hungry gaze, Ruhn felt the need to look after her, too. 

It was difficult enough having to watch the women passed around who weren’t allowed to say no, but he couldn’t bear to watch those who were allowed to say no be taken advantage of simply because they were a woman in a saloon full of drunk bastards.

Flynn and Declan had ended up at the bar and Aedion had snuck into the dry storage room, leaving Ruhn to mull over his day, life and purpose with nothing but a mug of ale to keep him company. When he realized he’d been tracing the same knot in the wood for an entire song in the old, barely-in-tune piano, he looked up, his eyes darting around the room.

No sign of Bryce, but he’d learned to not to hold out hope for easy nights for her long ago.

But when his eyes made another pass, searching for not for wine-red hair, but golden-brown… He came up short.

For a moment, he debated on joining his friends at the bar, if for no other reason than a new vantage point to watch the room. That thought drifted away as he heard a voice, full of sass, from behind him.

“Are you watching me, Mister Danaan?”

He spun around in his chair to find Feyre, one hand on her hip, the other holding up a tin pitcher. 

“I was just...scanning the room, Miss Archeron,” he said, simply.

She narrowed her eyes and suppressed her grin. “I believe you’re telling a lie.” 

Ruhn huffed a laugh, unable to help himself as Feyre sat down across from him at the empty table. “I was just ensuring your safety after what had happened the other night.” 

“That’s very kind of you,” Feyre said, eyes bright. “You are appreciated, you must know.” 

He tipped his head in thanks. “How has your day been?”

“Long,” she admitted. “I suppose I cannot complain, though. And yours, Mister Danaan?” 

He thought of the hacking he’d done with his pickaxe, hour after hour after hour all day, before he said, “Mine was long, as well.” 

Unlike his sister, Ruhn wasn’t forced into the servitude he was sold into. Gavriel, the man who owned and operated out of the mines, was a fair and just man. He saw the situation the children were in, saw that he had the opportunity to help at least one of them. So when Ruhn’s life was offered to him, as payment for a life debt, he said yes, took the young man in.

And then told him he was free to do as he wished. Free to go, to stay, to work, to run.

But with Bryce in proverbial shackles, that wasn’t an option. So he took a job in the mines, made a modest living and did what he could for his sister.

The sadness in Feyre’s eyes told him she understood well.

“Miss Archeron, may-.”

“Feyre, please,” she interrupted. “Call me Feyre.”

He smiled. “Miss Feyre, with your permission, I’d like to walk you home tonight.”

Her eyebrows rose, her blue-grey eyes bright in the candles hanging from the chandelier. “I don’t get off work until late, well past midnight.”

Shaking his head, Ruhn said, “I don’t mind.”

Feyre nodded, slowly, perfectly amused. “Very well, Mister Danaan, you may walk me home.” 

She pushed herself up from the table and was beginning to walk away when Ruhn called, “Miss Feyre?”

She turned to face him, yet again, a small smile on her lips. “Yes?”

“If I can call you by your first name, then you may call me by mine,” he said, then added, “Please.” 

“Very well,” she said, softly, and then she was off to make her rounds, yet again.

* * * * * * * *

Saturdays were Nesta’s least favorite day. 

The crowds were bigger. The room was louder. The men were worse.

As Nesta hurried toward the saloon, she couldn’t help but wonder what sort of torture Maeve would have planned for her to punish her for being late the night before. Again.

She hurried into the saloon, squeezing Feyre’s hand as she passed, her sister giving her what little strength she could, and started up the stairs.

“Nesta Archeron.”

She paused, and turned, finding Maeve standing at the bottom of the staircase. “I’m not late tonight, ma’am.”

A wicked smirk. “No, you’re not.”

Nesta swallowed hard and made her way back down the stairs.

“Get ready and be back down here within twenty minutes. You have a special request tonight.”

A special request. It sent chills up Nesta’s spine.

And not in a good way.

Nonetheless, she did what she was told. After hurrying up to her room, she took her place in front of the vanity and took down her hair, the curls long and loose as they hung around her shoulders. She lined her eyes with kohl, painted her lips to a ruby red, and pinched her cheeks until they were nice and red. She looked at herself, admired herself in the mirror as she did every night before she changed. 

Her reflection haunted her. 

She was staring at the ghost of the girl she once was, the girl she once knew, before. 

After pinning her hair back so that it was out of her eyes, she shrugged off her robe and dressed. Corset, skirts, stockings beneath that reached her mid-thighs.

Lacing her boots up, she steeled herself, praying it wouldn’t be one of the sick men who enjoyed pain. Nesta hated the pain.

She walked down the stairs, Maeve still waiting in the same spot as before. Eyes turned to look at her as she descended into the saloon, as they always did. People always stared when the whores entered the room.

She glanced around, trying not to make it obvious, as she caught the eyes of those in the bar. The usuals were there, of course, Hunt and Feyre and Luca, picking up dirty dishes. But Azriel Draeven was there, too, along with the mayor. And at their table, eyes trained on her, a glass of whiskey in his hand, was Cassian. Their eyes locked and her feet almost froze on the stairs, but she forced them to keep moving.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Maeve inspected her with an experienced eye. Without a word, she nodded, clearly pleased with Nesta’s appearance. She held out an envelope. “Do not open this envelope until you’ve reached the general store. You’ll find further instructions inside. You’ve been booked until sunrise. Go get your coat.”

Nesta didn’t say a word as she took the envelope and went back up to grab her coat. It was all she grabbed, her coat, not wanting to bring the rest of her belongings in case things turned ugly. She would have Feyre to grab them before she left. She wouldn’t mind.

She never did.

With her coat over her shoulders, she descended the stairs, once more, not bothering to look at anyone else except for her sister behind the bar.

Feyre could see the question in her eyes. She nodded, once, and Nesta ignored the sorrow in her youngest sister’s eyes as she exited the saloon, envelope in hand, and went down to the general store.

It wasn’t late by any means, but the dusty main road in and out of town was deserted. Those with families were home, having dinner, spending time with their loved ones. Those that didn’t… well, the saloon would be open for quite a while yet. The envelope in her hand felt heavy, though she knew that was just in her mind. It held nothing but a note, written in Maeve’s formal penmanship, like it always did. This wasn’t the first special request she’d fulfilled and she knew it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last.

With a sigh, she opened the envelope and a letter in an unfamiliar hand fell onto her lap. She read through it once, blinking, and paused. She was misunderstanding. She had to be. Nesta quietly read the letter allowed, making sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her.

“Return to your home, lock your doors, and go to bed,” she murmured. “Tell no one, keep this a secret from all but your sisters. Get some rest, beautiful.”

The letter still clutched in her hand, Nesta looked around the deserted street. There was no one around, no one secretly watching her, waiting to catch her making a mistake.

Nesta had never run home so fast in her life.

* * * * * * * *

Lysandra had slipped into the dry storage of the saloon while Cairn wasn’t looking. She just needed a second to breathe, to sit without being hounded.

The door cracked open a minute later and Aedion appeared. “Are you okay?”

She breathed a relieved sigh as she nodded her head. She wasn’t sure if she could speak. If she spoke, she may start crying. Maeve would get far too much enjoyment from her tears.

He understood though, he understood how it took a toll on her. Wordlessly, she stood, making her way over to him, and wrapped her arms around his waist. Aedion didn’t hesitate to wrap his own around her and kiss the top of her head. “I’m sorry,” he breathed.

She shook her head and Aedion knew it’s because there was nothing either of them could do.

For a moment, that’s all there was in the world, just the two of them and the silence. She loved that silence, loved when he held her and she could take a few minutes to breathe.

Even if it was never long enough.

Which it never was.

“You should go back out there,” she whispered.

“Or I can give you some coin,” he replied, quietly.

Not for sex, she knew, but so she could have ten extra minutes of breathing time.

Lysandra shook her head. “It would be a waste of coin, and you know it.”

Neither of them made to move though. Aedion’s hand wove into her hair, holding her head to his chest as she breathed him in, as she rooted herself in this moment, to use it as her anchor for the rest of the night.

Stolen kisses and secret meetings are all they had. Aedion would gladly pay for a night with her, for every night with her if he could. He loved Lysandra more than a man had ever loved a woman, or so he firmly believed. And she had given him her whole heart, since they could never have anything more.

She was Maeve’s favorite whore. There were no prices for a night with Lysandra, not unless someone was willing to shell out a wagon full of coins. No, she was Maeve’s personal gift to give out.

To the most worthy of companions.

Maeve’s most worthy clients. 

“I have to go,” she whispered.

Aedion nodded, knowing the time was coming. The time always came, no matter how many nights Aedion spent praying it wouldn’t.

He wanted so desperately to tell her that he loved her, but he wouldn’t. No matter how much he felt it, he’d keep it to himself, because to say it would be too hard.

He would say it and nothing would change. 

“I’ll be there,” he decided on, after a few seconds passed. He would be there, in the saloon, in case she needed him to look at, to make eye contact with, when she was feeling completely and utterly alone.

She nodded, before taking one last deep breath, breathing him in. And then she was out of his arms, out the door and back into the front room, into her own personal hell.

Because when she saw who was sitting in Maeve’s booth, she thought she was going to be sick. It had been years since she’d seen him. When Maeve crooked a finger over and called for her, those silver eyes met hers and Arrobyn Hammel smiled.

[hongism]

Do you have any good ateez X reader fanfics Recs? I’m in need of a good long fanfic If not long Then a really really good one lol I just have a hard time finding some lol

BOY HOWDY IM FINALLY HERE okay but fr tho i’m sorry this took me Lightyears to do im so bad at remembering what fics i read and how i tag them so i lost my mind while trying to find them all and i’m sure i missed a lot of favs so i Apologize in advance asiodjfosijdf some are kinda popular so you might have seen them before but some do not get the credit they deserve and i could sit here and sing the praises of these fics and their authors for years but i won’t put y’all through that ._.

You can’t even reach my neck - @kpopscenario - seonghwa

summary: They’re best friends and have feelings for each other but they both don’t know about the others crush, Seonghwa comforts her after another bad date. (Basically friends to lovers college!au)

yes i am a Sucker for a damn f2l college au on occasion and this is one of those Incredible and Well Written occasions i love this fic and the length is perfect and long in the best way 10/10 would recommend and it’s great

such a good girl for me - @starrychannies - mingi

summary: no summary but the warnings should tell you Everything you need to know wink wonk skljdlkdfj

warnings: harddom!mingi, sub!reader, size kink (its mingi duh), choking, sir kink, pet names, mix of praise and degradation, oral (receiving), unprotected sex, slight overstim, slight humiliation (?), a lot of fluffy aftercare.

i find it Uber hard to write smut that is well written in all honesty like i can’t read my own smut bc i can’t Stand It i just think it’s awful but there are so so many authors out there who can write smut and write it well and i admire starrychannies so much for such incredible writing talent with smut yesyes

Alone - @actuallythatwaspromise - san

summary: again n/a but good lord royalty au prince san, princess reader, smack me over the head because i really adore this 2.2k fic and good lord this fic gets me emo and i dont even know why??? the angst is soft and barely there but i’m still over here sobbing for no reason oisdfoaijdiof

detention - @/starrychannies - wooyoung

warnings: badboy!wooyoung, goodgirl!reader, smut, voice kink, corruption kink, fingering, dirty talk, public sex, exhibitionism kink, wooyoung has piercings and reader is a Big Fan, mention of gags, light degradation.

this, this shit right here, this is so good WHEW i dont really have the words but hot damn, i just love this fic and i love love love the way the author wrote the the fic and it’s Hot:tm:

violet roses - @/starrychannies - yunho

warnings: F L U F F, college!au, s2l, first meeting, yunho is a soft babie, yunhos pov!!, love at first sight, pining, bit of slow burn, yunho is Whipped, suggestive teasing, hyunjin is mentioned briefly in the beginning, protective yunho, mingi makes an appearance, mentioned that mingi’s gay, san is mentioned, smut, softdom!yunho, sub!reader, praise, car sex, SIZE KINK!!!!, vaginal penetration, fingering, finger riding, penetrative sex, daddy kink, yunho lowkey has a corruption kink, multiple orgasms.

did i die? yes but only a lot. ahhhh i LOVE me some damn s2l slow burn and pining that shit hits the spot and this fic has it wrapped up in a nice and lovely package pls read pls pls pls read

lover boys - @/starrychannies - seonghwa + hyunjin

warnings: smut, wet dreams, poly relationship, boy x boy, non idol verse, ateez x skz crossover (yay!), harddom!seonghwa, softdom!hyunjin, sub!reader, threesome, reader is Needy, hyunjin is Sleepy, seonghwa is Amused, pwp, light somniphilia, dirty talk, petnames, some degradation, early morning sex, oral (giving), throat fucking, reader has no gag reflex and hyunjin is In Love with it, fingering (receiving), spanking (like twice), unprotected sex, light cum play, cum swallowing, little bit of praise, cuddles!

i really just need a minute whenever i think about this fic bc i highkey die every time i think about it??? two of my ults??? i can’t??? i really can’t handle this honestly like woW osdijfoijdfoi the way i melted we love to see it 🤩

entanglement - @sanduction - wooyoung

summary: when the boy who had explicitly spelled out his implausible hatred towards you on every possible occasion tells you that he’s a dog, who would’ve guessed that you possessed the other half of his soul? not you, at least. life sure had a shit-load of guts to pull a twilight on you like that.

okay so deadass if you know me you know that i really am not the type to read werewolf/hybrid fics. i just typically don’t go for them or read them but this fic. this fic. oh my god. the way it’s so seamless and works so perfectly, i’ll never recover like W O W i love this fic that is all honestly i have mad respect for all writers who do werewolf/hybrid fics bc i can’t write them at all, so sanduction huge major props to you i love your work!!!

who catches the alpha? - @teeztheflag - hongjoong

summary:  „You don’t want to break the rules, am I right?“

aka another phenomenal werewolf fic with alpha hongjoong that made me fall over in a totally great way. the angst the fluff the little suggestive bits it all flowed and fit together perfectly and i am still in love with this fic no matter how much time passes

bite me - @atinyidea - yunho

summary: vampire!au, vampire!yunho, vampire!reader, female!reader established!relationship / warnings! angry s*x?, biting, blood, sir k*nk, consensual s*x, teasing, begging, rough play, overstimulation

this fic is ~spicy~ and whew it is good wow just the idea of yunho and reader being immortal together was like awww then it got spicy and i went to o_o real quick but it is such a good fic and wow i love it i dont even have words bc im Dumb but wow

You Got It Like That? - @kimnamshiks - wooyoung

summary: You just needed to get through this week at the resort at the hands of 20 coworkers and Wooyoung; the Sales Department Supervisor who got some raunchy photos of you the day prior.

honestly wow sodifjoisdjf i love this fic so much i just wow honestly the reader is a whole mood when wooyoung texts about the pictures and i was reading like ‘ahahaa me.’ oisjdfoij god the back and forth between wooyoung and the reader just had me rolling legit i got flustered like pls wooyoung just HAAHHAHA WOOYOUNG IN THIS FIC GETS ME FLUSTERED AS FUCK it is all because tay is a Stellar Writer and makes those emotions come to life in amazing ways and i’ll never ever get over it just whew banter in fics is legit one of my favorite things ever and tay does it with such beautiful ease that i am Enamored but i am also Rambling just pls read this fic oh my god it’s so good

be my neighbor - @jeonginks - seonghwa

summary: seonghwa moved into the apartment next to yours, and he stumbled into a situation he didn’t expect to face.

wow i l o v e this fic it’s just a perfect blend of angst and fluff and it sends me to space every time i read it soidfjoidjf don’t ask why space but it just does i kinda ascend okay? anyway wow this fic is such a gem and it is sO underrated in my opinion. the dialogue is written so beautifully and with an ease that i think is often times hard to capture?? wow just amazing

Cheat Codes - @serendipityunho - seonghwa

summary: “This party’s boring, wanna get out of here?”, may have perhaps led you to make the biggest mistake of your life by sleeping with your best friend’s other best friend, your best friend who happens to be in love with you.

me: wow i never read college aus hahhaa

also me: reads a shit ton of college aus sodifjodijf

honestly this fic is 100% fantastic from start to finish, it’s 5.3k of pure greatness and i just really love this fic altho my heart broke at the end it still fit perfectly and was amazingly written ;-;

that is all i have for today slkdfljdlk however i will be shameless and say that if you would like some Long Bois for ateez i have a few but i’ll link the fics i loved writing the most and am v proud of :3

storge - mingi

liquorice and ivories - hongjoong

[waitimcomingtoo]

Can you do actress reader x Tom Holland where the reader has a celebrity crush on Ryan Reynolds and fangirls over him and tom gets jealous?

Reynolds

Pairing: Tom Holland x actress!reader

Synopsis: your obsession with Ryan Reynolds has Tom feeling insecure

Masterlist

Requests are CLOSED

“Where’s Tom?” You read one of the comments on your Instagram live as you played with the strings of Toms Punisher hoodie. “Toms at a meeting but if I timed it correctly he should be eating lunch right about now.”

For the record, you had timed it correctly. Tom was in a quiet cafe, eating the lunch you packed him with a content smile while he watched your Instagram live. Tom continued to eat his food as you answered more innocent questions.

“What are you doing now?” You read another comment.

“Probably reading.” Tom thought to himself.

“I was just reading. Reading and waiting for Tommy to come home. What’s your favorite color?” You read a commenters question.

“Pink.” Tom said out loud as he munched a baby carrot.

“Pink.” You nodded. “I’ve always loved pink. What’s your favorite animal?”

“Dog.” Tom smiled knowingly, feeling like he was acing a test.

“Dogs.” You stated with a happy smile. “Like my baby Tessa. What’s your favorite food?”

“My baby loves ice cream.” Tom said in a sing song voice. He moved back and forth in his chair, blushing at how cute you were in his hoodie. He wished he could be back at home with you, eating your favorite ice cream.

“I love ice cream. I don’t know if that counts as a food but it’s my favorite so.” You shrugged, your eyes darting up and down as you read the comments. “Who’s your favorite actor. That’s easy.”

“Tom Holland.” Tom said, keeping a mental score of all his points for answering questions correctly.

“Ryan Reynolds.” You answered. A sly smile appeared on your face. “Have you guys seen Deadpool?”

Tom sat back in surprise as you got into a discussion with your followers about Deadpool. Since when did you like Ryan Reynolds? And why was he your favorite actor when your own boyfriend was an actor? Tom felt a twinge of jealousy bubble up in his tummy. He had a weird relationship with Ryan Reynolds. They had never met, but were friendly on Instagram and Twitter. Both men liked to feed into the Spider-Man/Deadpool fantasy that fans had created online. There was the back and forth teasing of each other, Jake Gyllenhaal, and Hugh Jackman that Tom always found funny.

Until now.

Until he discovered his girlfriends love for another actor.

Tom pushed it from his mind. He convinced himself he was just being insecure over nothing. He knew you loved his acting. You probably just said Ryan was your favorite actor because saying Tom would be too obvious.

It had completely slipped his mind until a month later, when you and him were doing a couples video for Buzzfeed. It was like The Newlywed Game, despite not being married. You and Tom were tied as the interview started to dwindle down.

“What is Toms go-to activity on a day off?” The interviewer asked. You and Tom immediately got to writing on your white boards.

“Whenever you’re ready.” The interviewer said. You flipped your board around with confidence.

“I said golf.” You said, looking at Tom while you waited for him to flip his board. Toms face lit up as he held his board up to the camera.

“Golf!” He exclaimed, never failing to get excited when you got the right answer. “You got it right.” He high fived you before closing his fingers around yours and kissing your hand. “Good job, love.”

“This is too easy.” You said smugly. You knew your boyfriend too well.

“And, last question, who is Y/n’s celebrity crush?”

“Oh, duh.” Tom scoffed, gesturing to himself with a suave smirk on his face. You didn’t catch his reaction, as you were busy writing down your answer.

“Ready?” The interviewer asked.

“Yep.” Tom said confidently as he held up his board to the camera. “Me” was written on it in his messy handwriting. You peaked at his board and laughed.

“Oh.” You said, flipping your own board around. “I said Ryan Reynolds.”

Tom felt genuinely shocked at your answer, even looking at your board for confirmation.

“What?” He asked, looking between you and the board as you laughed. “I thought I was your celebrity crush.”

“You can’t be my crush if you’re my boyfriend.” You teased, not registering his reaction as serious.

“Yes I can.” Tom defended, feeling uneasy with your answer. “I didn’t even know you liked him like that.”

Him being your favorite actor was one thing. Now you had a crush on him too?

“Are you kidding? I’m crazy about him.” You said as you brushed some hair out of your face. “I thought you knew that.”

“I didn’t.” Tom said through gritted teeth. Crazy about Ryan Reynolds? You didn’t even know the guy.

“I never told you?” You asked and Tom shook his head. He would’ve remembered you confessing your love for the quick witted brunette actor. “That’s surprising. I’ve been obsessed with him for years. My love for Ryan Reynolds is one of the hallmarks of my personality.”

“Obsessed is a strong word.” Tom remarked, feeling that same twinge of jealousy rise in his tummy.

“Not strong enough.” You stated. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for that man.”

You went on to talk about your obsession with Ryan Reynolds as Tom sat, engulfed in his thoughts. This was the second time you’d chosen Ryan over Tom. He couldn’t help the pang of envy that plagued his heart. You were a lot more into the guy than Tom originally thought.

But once again, Tom pushed it from his mind. He didn’t think of it again until you, Tom, and Gwyneth Paltrow appeared on the Graham Norton show together two months later to promote Far From Home.

“Now, Gwyneth, you had a pretty interesting celebrity crush growing up, didn’t you?” Graham said as he read off his cards in his Irish accent. Both you and Tom loved being on his show, especially together. He always got the best stories out of people.

“I did. I was obsessed with Keanu Reeves when I was 15.” Gwyneth answered casually.

“I can see why, he’s a very gorgeous man.” Graham nodded in agreement. “And Y/n I hear you’re quite the Ryan Reynolds fan.”

“Oh yes.” You said immediately. You beamed at the thought of him as the audience laughed. Tom, on the other hand, couldn’t have been less amused. He put on a cheerful face for the camera, but he felt white hot anger bubbling under the surface. Was Ryan going to be brought up in every damn interview?

“Is that true? Do tell.” Graham kicked his crossed leg a little, ready for trouble.

“He’s just”, You shook your hands and balled them in fists, “he just gets me going.” You laughed. Tom rolled his eyes and crossed his legs to mask his indignation.

“Does he?” Graham grinned wickedly, wanting even more out of you.

“Yes!” You leaned back in your chair, taking in the cheerful reaction from the audience. “Can you blame me though? He’s dreamy.” Your face burned bright, like a schoolgirl with a crush, as you discussed the actor.

“He’s very dreamy.” Gwyneth added.

“Back off.” You deadpanned, before bursting into laughter. The audience laughed with you, loving your energy.

“Feisty.” Graham poked fun as he shimmered his shoulder. “Is she this possessive with you, Tom?”

“She better be.” Tom said, more serious than he intended. You were too busy fawning over Ryan to notice Toms indifference.

“I am, I am.” You assured the audience. “But I would cut a bitch for Ryan Reynolds.”

“Would you?” Graham explored. “You’d just knife someone? Right then and there?”

“Absolutely.” You quipped. The audience was loving it, Tom was hating it, and you were having a great time.

“Alright.” Tom spoke up, unable to handle his girlfriend gushing over another man anymore. “I think we get it.”

“Uh Oh. Spider-Mans angry.” Graham teased before looking back at you. “What is it about him that you like?”

“It’s everything. We’ve never met, but I can just tell from his interviews that I watch every night before bed,” You paused as the audience laughed, “that he’s just a great guy. He’s so funny, obviously, and such a talented actor but he still seems like such a genuinely sweet and humble guy. And I mean, how damn cute is he? Those brown eyes? That sexy salt and pepper beard he’s got going on? I die every time he looks at the camera. I love him. I don’t know, I just love him.”

“We can tell.” Tom huffed. So now you loved him? He went from your favorite actor, to being your celebrity crush, and now you loved him too? Toms suit felt tighter and the lights felt hotter. He wanted to get out of the interview and blow off some steam.

“Maybe we’ll see a Spider-Man and Deadpool crossover one day and Y/n can play Deadpool’s girlfriend.” Gwyneth shrugged, only fueling Toms angry fire.

“I wish.” You stated. That set Tom over the edge. He didn’t talk for the rest of the interview unless he had too.

He went to bed that night, barely muttering a goodnight to you before putting his pillow over his head and going to sleep. You were too high on adrenaline to notice his cold shoulder towards you. You went to bed that night with a smile on your face after kissing Toms cheek.

“Tom!” Tom heard your hushed whisper a few hours later. He felt himself being shaken gently. He let out a slight groan and snuggled further into his pillow.

“Tommy wake up!” You said a little louder, shaking him a little more.

“Yes, my love?” Tom said sleepily, with his eyes still closed.

“Look!” You gushed, at full volume now.

And shoved in Toms face at 7:17 in the morning was a fan drawing of Deadpool holding your most popular character in a loving embrace while Spider-Man cried. There was also a little caricature of Graham Norton cheering them on in the corner. Ryan Reynolds had posted the picture on his Instagram story with the caption “Mr. Steal Your Girl.” in bold red letters. Toms face went as red as those letters and shoved your phone out of his face.

“Y/n, it’s too early for this.” Tom grumbled, turning over in bed and pulling the blanket over his face.

“Ryan Reynolds posted a drawing of my character on his story. And she’s in his arms! That means he saw the interview!” You went on, still shaking Tom. He knew he wasn’t going back to bed anytime soon. He threw the blanket off his face and rubbed his tired eyes.

“A lot of people saw the interview.” Tom sighed as he stretched a little. “Go back to bed. Why are you even awake?”

“Because the notification I got that told me Ryan posted something woke me up.” You explained, eyes still glued to your phone.

“You have notifications on for him?” Tom asked, feelings fully awake. “Do you have them on for me?” He wondered out loud.

“I’m usually with you when you post something, silly.” You cooed, giving him a kiss good morning which he accepted graciously. He regretted overreacting last night and not kissing you goodnight. He’s gone too many hours without your touch. “Can you believe this? Ryan Reynolds knows who I am!” You exclaimed, pulling Tom out of his brief happy daze.

“Yippee.” He said sarcastically as he flopped back down onto the bed.

“I’m going to repost his story.” You said decidedly. “Should I write something witty or just put emojis?”

“I don’t care.” Tom mumbled into his pillow.

“You’re right. I’ll put something witty.” Yet again, you were too focused on the task at hand to notice Toms mood. He went back to bed without another word.

Tom woke up three hours later and lazily scrolled through his phone. You weren’t in bed anymore, no doubt too giddy to go back to sleep. Tom saw that ring around your profile picture, signaling that you had posted on your story. Tom clicked it, briefly forgetting the half asleep conversation you’d had just a few hours ago. It was a screenshot of Ryans Instagram story. Under his little “Mr. Steal your girl” comment, you’d written, “all yours, baby. Don’t tell Blake.”

“What the hell?” Tom muttered sleepily. He clicked on where you tagged Ryan and began to stalk his profile. He clicked on his Instagram story, expecting to just see the fan art from before. This time, there was a picture of you and Tom holding hands and walking in the streets of New York with Ryans face poorly photoshopped over Toms. Tom sat up in bed, fully awake. Ryan had only posted it three seconds ago. Tom heard you scream from the kitchen, no doubt meaning you’d just seen it for yourself.

Tom was not happy. That photo of you and him was one of his favorites. In the picture, he was staring at you with a dreamy smile on his face while you pointed at something in the distance. Your eyes were wide like a child and your face was lit up with glee, hence Toms dreamy smile. Tom loved that photo because it was so fitting for your relationship. You admiring the beauty of the world while Tom admired the beauty of his world.

And now freaking Ryan Reynolds slapped his smug, incredibly handsome face right over Toms.

You ran back into the bedroom, phone in hand, with another huge smile.

“Did you-“

“Yeah, I saw.” Tom cut you off. This time, you noticed his indifference.

“Is everything alright, lover?” You asked as you leaned against the doorframe.

“Everything is just peachy.” Tom grouched. He threw the blanket off his body and went into the bathroom, avoiding your confused gaze the entire way there.

After a long shower, Tom felt better. He still felt guilty for snapping at you and knew he had to make things right. He found you on the couch in the living room, half watching an episode of New Girl. Toms tea was on the counter, waiting for him, next to a plate of eggs and toast. You still made him breakfast despite his rudeness towards you all morning and last night. Tom immediately felt his guilt worsen, and he took a seat next to you on the couch.

“You got new lip balm?” Tom asked sweetly, his form of a peace offering.

“Yes.” You said through partially parted lips, never meeting his gaze as you heavily applied your lip balm. “I ran out of my old one.”

So you weren’t mad. You just seemed hurt.

“Is it coconut?” Tom leaned in a little closer, which you let him, and sniffed the air.

“Piña Colada.” You said, warning up to him a little.

“Smells nice.” Tom complimented, seeing how far he could push his luck before you yelled at him for the way he acted. He stroked your hair gently and a forgiving smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.

“Tastes nice too.” You said deviantly.

“I don’t believe you.” Tom said coyly. “I’m gonna need some concert evidence, darling.”

“I think I could help you out with that.” You said, fully forgiving him now as you leaned in.

Just as your lips were about to connect, your phone lit up and went “ding.”

“Op.” You chirped and picked up your phone. “That’s Ryan.”

Tom stayed right where he was, despite you pulling away. He couldn’t hide the irritation he felt. His face twisted in annoyance as he watched your phone screen light up your face.

“What?” He said bluntly, completely unamused. You, however, were busy commenting every compliment you could think of under Ryans post.

“Huh?” You asked, absentmindedly, as your thumbs twiddled away.

“What did you say?” Tom asked you again, restraining himself from completely flipping his lid.

“I said that’s Ryan.” You repeated. You held up your phone in front of Toms face with the biggest smile on your face. Ryan Reynolds annoyingly perfect face looked back at Tom. “He just posted a selfie.”

“And you had to stop kissing me to like his picture?” Tom asked calmly.

“See? You understand.” You patted Toms cheek before diving back into your phone. Tom watched you, more rage building up every second you didn’t look up at him. Finally, Tom had had enough.

“Y/n-“ he began.

“Oh my God.” You interrupted with wide eyes. “Look what he just posted.”

Tom didn’t look down at first. He stared right at you, intense anger behind his usually gentle eyes.

“Are you serious?” He asked you.

“Yes!” You stated, misreading his question. “Look!”

Tom grabbed your phone and looked at what you so desperately had to show him. It was a picture of Ryan, of course, with his big arms wrapped around a cardboard cutout of you. Ryan was leaning in to kiss your cheek. A shirt that said “I love Y/n L/n” in big, bulky black letters was peaking out from behind the cutout. The caption said, “I won’t tell Blake if you don’t tell Tom.” Then he tagged you, along with a million hearts and kissy faces. Tom would’ve found the picture funny on any other day. But now, your love for Ryan Reynolds was impacting his relationship with you and he hated it.

He hated how genuinely excited you were just from him posting a picture.

He hated how Ryan was brought up in every single interviewer, and how you turned into a fangirling mess when he was.

Most of all, he hated feeling like you loved another man more than you loved your own boyfriend.

“Y/n!” Tom yelled, slamming his fist down on the couch. You jumped at his sudden outburst and put your phone down, giving him your full attention. Toms eyes immediately softened. He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but it was the only way to get through to you.

“Yes?” You asked, confused with his tone of voice.

“I was trying to kiss you and you pulled away to look at some dudes Instagram.” Tom burst out. His tone was assertive, but not mean.

“It’s not some dude.” You dished his words back at him. “It’s Ryan Reynolds, love of my life.”

“I’m the love of your life!” He shouted. You looked at him in surprise.

“What’s gotten into you?” You asked, finally putting it together. Every time Ryan came up, Tom got quiet and weird. “Are you seriously jealous of Ryan Reynolds?”

“Am I jealous of the incredibly handsome that you’re head over heels for?” Tom repeated in exasperation. “Yes, Y/n, I am.”

“Why?” You asked incredulously, not even believing you were having this conversation.

“Because!” Tom exploded. “He’s all you talk about. Like, he’s your favorite actor and not me? He’s your celebrity crush and not me?” Tom listed off, finally getting his feelings off his chest. “And every time he gets brought up in an interview, you get all giggly and blushy. You even told Graham Norton you wished you could play his girlfriend. How am I supposed to feel about that? I’m your boyfriend and you’re so open about being in love with another man that-”

“Tommy, I’m not actually in love with him.” You interrupted. You said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, giggling at your hotheaded boyfriend in the meantime.

“You-You’re not?” Tom stuttered, stunned at your response. He had been expecting you to yell back. He hadn’t expected you to meet his anger with giggles and reassurance.

“No.” You laughed, rubbing Toms heated face with your thumb. “Yes, I love him. He’s funny and cute and a great actor. But I’m not actually in love with him. I’m only in love with you.”

“Then why are you so obsessed with him?” Tom asked, his voice softening.

“Tommy, when I say those things about Ryan, I mean other than you. He’s my celebrity crush, other than you. He’s my favorite actor, other than you. And saying I’m in love with him is just a figure of speech. But when I say I’m in love with you,” you poked his chest as a smile threatened to break out on his face, “I mean it. 100%. I love you. Only you. Not Ryan Reynolds. Not Wade Wilson. Not Chris Brander. Not Will Hayes. Just you.”

“But, sometimes, I can’t help but feel like you like him more than me.” Tom said timidly as he kissed your palm that was resting on his cheek. He was genuinely insecure about your feelings for him, something you hadn’t noticed until now.

“Tom, there is no one in this world I like more than you.” You told him. He gave you a soft smile.

“Are you sure?” He asked, still needing reassurance.

“I’m positive.” You promised him.

“What if he asked you out?” Tom tested.

“I’d tell him I’m kinda seeing someone.” You shrugged, making Tom feel better with every word.

“You’d turn down Ryan Reynolds for me?” He asked in disbelief.

“Without question.” You confirmed, taking his face in your hands. “You are absolutely the one I want. I’m sorry if I made you feel insecure.”

“It’s okay.” Tom told you. “I overreacted. I should’ve trusted you and our relationship.” He felt silly for getting all worked up over something as silly as you liking another actor. He never should’ve doubted you.

“I do have an idea of how we can respond to Ryans post, though.” You grinned mischievously.

“We?” Tom asked with a hopeful smirk.

A few minutes later, Ryan Reynolds got a notification that you tagged him in a photo. He went to his Instagram and clicked on your profile. A rare photo of you and Tom kissing with the caption “Tom knows.” was on your page in response to his “don’t tell Tom” comment from earlier. Ryan laughed to himself and went to comment.

@vancityreynolds: “But I thought I was Mr. steal your girl.” He wrote under your post. Tom was quick to respond.

@tomholland2013: “yeah, but she’s Mrs. Holland.”

“There.” You smiled and put your phone down. “It’s settled.”

A million rumors were already flying around that you and Tom were engaged. Toms comment did nothing to help that fact.

“Finally.” Tom breathed a sigh of relief and tossed his phone onto the other couch. “Can I get that kiss now?”

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @sunrise-shawn

[eldritchcuddles]

April Wordcount

It occurred to me that I can crosspost my wordcount tracking from dreamwidth so I remember to keep actually using this blog >_>

Total April wordcount: 12,294

POSTED:

- Naruto drabble Like This

IN PROGRESS [all titles are working titles unless noted otherwise, titles are typically the last thing I come up with]

- Dungeonstuck AU: 1871 words - KisaObi Hospital Romansu: NOT A DAMN THING TT_TT - Founders Era SI!OC crossover: 1743 words - Orochimaru spite timeline fix AU: 5165 words (yeah woo!) - Rabbit & Wolf: 1007 words

- Random fragments: 1949 words

Sneak peeks:

> Rabbit & Wolf <

“That’s not-” he began, stumbling over his words. “This is a really bad- I could kill you like this.”

“I know,” she snapped, glaring at the floor as she felt her blush creep up to her ears and down the back of her neck. “Believe me, I am aware that this is not the opening sequence for kinky funtimes. It’s an automatic response, shut up.”

He took a deep breath (scenting her! the primal part of her brain insisted, and she wasn’t even entirely certain it was wrong), loosened his grip, and rose to his feet, keeping his hand firm on her back until he was standing. The message was clear enough: stay down.

> Orochimaru Spite Fix-it <

“So, wanna get something to eat?” Yosegiri asked as they walked down the outer steps of Hokage Tower, arms crossed behind their head.

Tsuyoshi shrugged and signed, “Does it count as being rude eating in front of people if they’re covert operatives?”

Yosegiri snickered. “Nah, pretty sure that only counts if they show themselves, otherwise we’re supposed to pretend they’re not there.”

“Pretend who’s not there?” came a voice over Yosegiri’s shoulder.

“No one, dear,” they said to the mystery voice, not turning to look. “We’re supposed to pretend that no one is there unless they come out, even if they’re obviously not trying very hard to hide. It’s polite, or something.”

“Maa, we can’t have anyone being impolite, can we?” the voice responded, and the speaker pulled up to Yosegiri’s side wearing a porcelain dog mask and wearing the standard uniform of Konoha’s ANBU.

“Fuck, no,” Yosegiri agreed cheerfully. “That shit’s unconscionable in a guest.”

> Dungeonstuck AU <

“How did you do that?”

The blunt question would have startled Kei if she weren’t still numb past the point of startling at anything, she thought. It certainly came out of nowhere, a harsh voice in the dark from somewhere behind her. She canted her head vaguely over her shoulder. She was still blinded by the torchlight outside and unable to make out anything in the deep shadows in that corner, but from the positioning the speaker might have been the traitor Hatake, she thought. “Do what?” she asked, trying to get him to speak again. Information gathering, she laughed at herself. Almost like a shinobi.

“You unsealed the snake,” the voice in the dark said again. “You shouldn’t be able to mold chakra in here.”

Oh, professional curiosity. How like a Hatake, that even the rogue ones would be so focused, Kei mused as she moved her hand absently through the curls of the seals she had placed to counteract the ones keeping her new serpentine friend comatose. She could feel the intensity of the Hatake’s stare on her gesture, and she let a touch of power bleed out of the stale air to limn her fingers, tracing them in the air to make a small, hovering light.

That got more eyes on her and she almost extinguished the light in revulsion, but the stares weren’t on her, just her light, or darting around the room in reflexive calculation. Her skin stopped crawling, and she lifted herself in her cross-legged posture and turned enough to face the Hatake a little more directly. “Good thing I’m not molding chakra then, huh?”

“Mahou,” he concluded, and she nodded. “And nothing worth suppressing to prevent your escape, since they haven’t bothered.”

Kei stretched her lips in the shape of something that might have been a smile in another life and told him, “It’s like you know their security protocols from the inside, or something!” It was a petty jab. She wasn’t sorry.

> Founders Era <

"You told Uchiha Madara you were a miko? You?" Yosegiri asked, cackling, letting his eyes rove over Haruka but never making it higher than her collarbones.

She snorted and rolled her eyes. "I was dressed as a miko at the time and was healing his brother, it was a reasonable conclusion to draw at first impression. And if Uchiha Madara was standing over you radiating murder then you'd tell him you were a fucking bodhisattva if you thought it would keep him from ventilating your ribcage, so don't even start with me."

Naturally, both the man himself, his brother, and their Senju counterparts chose that moment to settle at the temporary teahouse table next to them, taking tea in full view where everyone could see them continuing to not fight to the death after a long day of construction and meetings and who knew what else.

Haruka did not blush- there was no way they hadn't heard her, her voice carried at the best of times and the teahouse wasn't that loud- but after a moment she did chance a glance their way. Her eyes locked with Senju Tobirama's, expressionless save for a glint that she was positive was amusement, and both Uchiha brothers glanced her way at the same moment. Keeping her sigh strictly internal, Haruka tendered both a polite nod that Izuna at least returned with a grin and Madara answered with a faint nod and fractional shift in his expression- oh, he was being dignified today- and she called that good enough.

Of course that was when Senju Hashirama spoke up. "Madara, did you really think she was a miko? I seem to recall the cover being less successful when it was my brother in the outfit." **

Haruka choked.

** yes, this is a hat tip to @asukaskerian‘s blood rare and sweet as cherry wine, which is hot as fuck and an all around blast to read. My fic is not set in that storyverse, but as a Noodle Incident “that one time Tobirama dressed up as a miko and got spotted” was too good to pass up.

[6v6taeminisloveshineeworld]

House of the Damned Chapter Two: UNDEAD KISS

PART 1: BLOOD AFFAIR

Summary: Lust is neither love nor passion, it is but a starving beast driven mad by thirst and unyielding desire. A natural hunger akin to flame. As a daughter of the Church, a trial of purity is thrust upon you when a series of events leads you to live in a manor with six vampire brothers who are eager to possess you and claim their birthright as the strongest of the clan descended from Vlad.

Pairing: Taemin X Female Reader, SuperM X Female Reader

Genre: Vampire romance, Diabolik Lovers Crossover

Word Count: 3.3k+

Authors Note: Most dialogue in this story is from the Diabolik Lovers game Haunted Dark Bridal Translated by maichiruhanabira and used with permission. It is not all my original work and will follow the DL game story with some extended or altered scenes. For original content read my other works, this work will be a side project since I am a fan of the game. If you are unfamiliar with Diabolik Lovers then I hope you enjoy the plot.

The cold school rooftop wasn’t the most ideal place to hide in between classes but you found that sticking with Taemin was the best way to avoid his brothers and their advances. If he wasn’t in the music room he was either here or curled up sleeping in an abandoned hallway. Even though you’d been spending more and more time together lately you knew nothing more about him than last week when you’d come to stay at Hawthorn Hill. 

Taemin was always listening to his music, avoiding conversation, and the world which was something you could relate to. You often spaced out and imagined you were anywhere else than living this nightmare. You opened a book of poetry from the school library and tried not to let the silence between you both eat anyway at you but it made you feel rather small and invisible. Well, invisible is better than having him try something on me. But then there was that small traitorous part of you that wished something would happen.

You’d gotten through only two poems before you really couldn’t stay quiet any longer and decided to ask what you’d been pondering over since the first fated day of your meeting, “Taemin? I have a question.”

“What?” He asked groggily. 

Well, at least he’s responding. “If you’re a vampire, does this mean you turn into a bat and fly? Also, do you hate eating garlic? Do you burn in the sunlight? Is that why you all go to night school? 

“That’s a lot more than one question,” He said with a sigh. 

“Sorry, it’s not every day you meet someone who’s a vampire.” You said indignantly.

“Ah but you aren’t sorry, he said opening his eyes and giving you what you would have called the tiniest of amused expressions. “You are curious, I’ll give you that. Well, so you know and stop pestering me, it’s not like I’m going to die if I eat some garlic pasta. I can’t turn into a bat, but I can fly in my shadow form. I’m afraid if you were asking because you wanted to kill me you’ll be quite disappointed to learn that I’m not going to burn to ash if I decide to go for a walk in broad daylight. It’s not that easy for me to die, believe me, I’ve tried it all.” 

“I wasn’t asking because I wanted to kill you!” 

 “Hm. Well, whatever. The legends about vampires in your world are all stupid delusions you humans came up with,” Taemin said closing his eyes again.

 “I’ll remember that,” You whispered back. Even if it would have been useful to learn some information on how to at least deter his brothers it wasn’t like he would just volunteer information that could really be used against him. You rubbed your crucifix between your fingers and silently wished it really did work on vampires.

“Do vampires prey on sleeping women to gain energy from having sex with them?” You asked hesitantly with a blush on your cheeks.

He laughed and didn’t even bother to open his eyes as he responded to your question. “I believe you are confusing us with incubuses though I daresay a vampire’s lust is any less potent. We prefer women a little more awake and willing than that so you may sleep more easily mortal. Unless you like that kind of thing then i’m sure my brothers will be more than happy to oblige.”

You huddled into yourself and continued to read, not bothering to answer. At the sound of the school bell, you quickly began putting away your book and grabbing your coat.

“Taemin, class is starting, are you coming?” You asked when Taemin didn’t move at all you moved closer to see that he’d fallen asleep again. His blonde hair fell over his face as he slept. He looked tranquil like this, almost human. This close you were even more aware of the graceful curve of his upper lip and his angular cheekbones that seemed to remind you that even the devil had been a beautiful angel once. You moved your hand close to his arm then realizing that you’d almost been about to touch him you quickly steeped back. “Taemin please wake up. Class is starting,” you said. 

“Be quiet.”

“Sorry, but the bell rang.” 

“So what? The soloist is just about to play. Don’t bother me.” He said, tucking his arms around his body tightly. 

Was that why he didn’t go to classes? So he could hear the music students playing in the room below? You didn’t know why the thought of him holding his education back bothered you so much but it did. “What if they hold you back a year for not attending so many classes? What will you do then?” You asked him.

“It’s none of your business whether I repeat a year or drop out of school or not. You said you weren’t trying to bother me right? Well, try a little harder. You can leave now.”

“But I was just-” Truthfully you just didn’t want to step into class alone and deal with all of his brothers as well as the other students and their gazes. Arriving every morning with the Hawthorns beside you didn’t seem to give you many friends. They were all either too scared of the brothers’ wrath or steaming with jealousy. Besides, maybe Taemin would thank you in the long run if he didn’t have to repeat a year.

“Let’s just go to class!” You told Taemin with a bit too much enthusiasm. “I’ll drag you over there myself if you don’t budge!” You pulled him playfully and he just looked at you a bit stunned that you’d touched him and that you hadn't run off so easily. 

“What are you doing?” He asked in a serious tone. Honestly I don’t know the answer to that myself.

“Taemin, please just stand up!” You said, pulling a bit harder. 

“You’re really persistent. You want me to go to class that bad?” He said, shaking his head.

“Yes. Because I want the person I’m choosing to share my blood with to do well in life.” I’m an idiot. Why would I say that?

“You’re really bothersome, to feel accountable for that is unnecessary.”

 “It’s not good for you to skip classes.”

“Okay, then.” He said, moving to sit up.

“You’ll go to class?” You said in surprise.

“Only if you kiss me.” He said, meeting your eyes.

“What?” You shouted, pulling away. 

“You didn’t hear me? It’s too much of a bother to say it again.”

“I… I did hear you but.”

“So you can’t do it?”

 “Absolutely not!”

“Then I’m not going. Please leave me here in peace. I’m going back to sleep.”

“Please don’t be so selfish,” you said. He’d closed his eyes again and was laying comfortably now, certain you wouldn’t bother him anymore. He was just trying to scare you off, he didn’t actually seem serious about it and knowing that seemed to only draw you further in. He was much less imposing than his brothers and you found yourself crossing over lines that really shouldn’t be tested when dealing with a man like him. Without giving it more thought you leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. 

His eyes opened in surprise as he looked up at you. Then without a word, he got off the floor and pulled on his blazer. He paused at the rooftop door and said with a small smile, “You’re an awful kisser.” You blushed at that and then he was gone, leaving you completely stunned. It had almost been too easy. Not only had you gone and kissed him he’d actually kept his word. You shook your head and followed after him, glad that at least your little stunt meant you wouldn’t be alone today.

As the week went on you found that along with the time you spent in the Hawthorn Hill library, you had come to enjoy the luxurious baths you’d grown used to taking before bed. Your bathroom itself was as big as your room and the tub was large. The floor was marble and there were so many bottles of expensive soaps and bath salts that taking the time to draw the water and pick among them had become a very entertaining and relaxing part of your new daily routine. 

You’d filled the bath with hot water a few minutes earlier and after finding the perfect book to read in the library you went to your bathroom door only to hear classical music coming from inside. You open the door and sure enough, Taemin was inside sleeping in your tub.

“Taemin! What are you doing in my bathtub?” You shouted, taking in his clothed state. He was in the water fully dressed and dozing off you’d tried to avoid his eyes ever since the kiss on the rooftop but now you just stared him down. He made a slight moan in response and sunk deeper into the water.

“Wait!” You said, worried he’d hit his head on the side. You ran over and pulled him up so that his head was above water again. “Taemin, please wake up.” He gave a small hum to show he was listening and he opened his eyes, you frowned at him. If he was awake why was he acting all sluggish as if he was drunk.

“Oh, it’s you. Taemin said in a groggy tone “you look like the gatekeeper to hell.”

“Who are you calling a demon? You’re one to talk!” You said angrily.

“You’re making a face like a demon.” Taemin said, “Hungry eyes and lustful expression.”

“I’m not a demon! Please stop saying things like this. Anyway, don’t sleep in the bath. You’ll drown.”

“Lewd woman. Watch where you’re looking.” 

“What do you mean? You’re still wearing clothes.” You said with a blush. “It’s not like I came in here to look at you!”

“Then what’d you come here for?” He said with a smirk.

“To take a bath! But you have a bathtub in your room, so why’d you come here?”

“Don’t be so loud. My bath didn’t have hot water in it.”

You rolled your eyes “there won’t be any hot water if you don’t fill it up and use your own hands!”

“There was hot water in this bath when I came in here. So I got in.”

“Ugh,” you grunted in irritation. “Fill up your own bath. I’m going to take one now, so please get out!”

“You want me to get out? Fine. Then, why don’t you pull me out?”

Again with this. “What! Is it too much of a bother to get out of the bath yourself?

“Alright, then. I’ll just sleep in here. You can join me if you like.” He said submerging himself deeper into the water till his whole body was under.

 “Y-you’re sinking! You’ll drown!” You shouted. Which if you would have thought more on it was idiotic considering the fact that he was already dead and would probably just lose consciousness only to regain his breath again but your instinct compelled you more than reason in that moment and you pulled him up with all of your strength. You blushed deeper when you felt the hard lines of his body against your hands.

“What’re you freaking out for? And stop making noise in the bathroom; it echoes.” Taemin said. “It shouldn’t matter to you if I drown in here. Wouldn’t it actually be convenient? Don’t meddle.”

It’s like he doesn’t have the energy or will to live at all. “I chose you remember. It’d be a bother if you died. Besides, I want to take a bath too. But not in a bathtub somebody died in.”

“Right, well then pull me out so I don’t drown.” He said, moving his hand toward you. 

“Again with this? Honestly you and your brothers act like children.”

“Don’t make me say it again, it’s annoying. If you don’t want to do it, then get out of here. You’re being a nuisance.” 

You took his hand and proceeded to pull him out of the tub completely. Anything to get him to leave you in peace so you could have your bath you thought. He was soaking wet, his clothes clung to his body in a way that set your face aflame and you didn’t know where to look. 

“I’m so tired,” Taemin said, leaning his body against yours and laying his head on your shoulder. His body was pressed so closely to your own you were sure he could hear your thundering heartbeat. Droplets of water fell from his chin onto your chest and the warm steam in the air left you flustered. 

“Hey. P-please don’t lean on me.” You said, voice small again.

When he laughed you could feel the rumble of his chest from your proximity.  “Why are you blushing?” Taemin said as he moved your damp hair behind your ear. “So you were trying to see me naked.” His voice was low and his face was so close you could feel his breath mixed with the heat of the room. He smelled of expensive soaps and lavender. “You’re a pervert,” he whispered against your ear. A tremor went though your entire body as when he blew into your ear. He rested his forehead against yours and you stood so still, too stunned to move in that moment. 

“I… I’m not.” You finally said when you remembered how to speak. “Please don’t say weird things like that! I wasn’t trying to-”

“Then why is your face so red?” He laughed again and you realized that you were just a source of amusement for him and it made you angrier. “That kind of vulgar expression isn’t in alignment with your words.” He said, tilting your chin up. So what’ll you do now? Come onto me?”

“N… no, of course not.” You said looking away.

“Well,” He said, moving away from you to grab a towel he then proceeded to run it though his hair. “Do enjoy soaking in the leftover bath water as you fantasize about me.” With that last statement and a smile he left the bathroom and closed the door. 

“Why would you say that you conceded- Honestly!” You looked into the mirror to see your expression. Your face and ears were red just as you’d expected. You threw your clothes to the ground and sunk into the water. Your heart continued to pound as you took in the lingering scent of the room. The hot water against your skin sent a surge of pleasure through your body and as the music of Debussy filled the room and muffled your soft moans you prayed the walls didn’t really echo as loudly as he’d said.

After losing on purpose to another game of chess with Baekhyun you settled into your favorite armchair in the living room ready to read another book from the library until you noticed Taemin on a sofa nearby. You’d been avoiding him since your bathroom encounter yesterday but there was only so far you could go without bumping into him constantly. You debated what would happen if you went up to bed instead of staying but honestly you didn’t want to make things more awkward for yourself by leaving suddenly and you’d have to be around him tomorrow night for classes as it was. After all it was him who had barged into your room making accusations why should you be the one to leave.

You could see him shift his sleeping position from the corner of your eye. He was listening to music as usual and from the look of it he didn’t really seem asleep just absorbed in whatever was playing and as usual you broke first.

“Taemin? What are you listening to?” Even if it hadn’t worked when he’d been playing the piano before it would be nice if you could understand him a little more and talking with him about music did seem like the easiest way to go.

“That’s none of your business.” He said, opening an eye. 

 “But you looked so lost in it so I was curious. What kind of music is that?” You said determinedly. 

“You never quit, do you?” He said getting up and coming over to you. “If you want to know so badly, then here. Listen for yourself,” Taemin said handing you one of his earbuds. 

“Thank you,” You said. The second you placed one in your ear you regretted ever asking. You blushed a bright red at the moans coming from the music player. You quickly took it out and glared at him. “What is this?”

“It’s music. Wasn’t that obvious?” He said with a shrug. 

“That wasn’t music!” You said. It had been the sounds of a woman being pleasured and it made your head spin and wonder at whether it was just some X rated drama cd or the real thing that he himself had recorded. You shivered at the thought. You began to wonder if it was always things of this nature that he played when music wasn’t blaring from his earbuds. 

“It’s not really attractive to force your opinions onto other people.” He said in a serious tone. “The singing voice of a woman dancing in joy is almost as good as one of Stravinsky’s rondos. I don’t think it’s very polite to judge my taste.

Why did he have to make that sound so reasonable? 

“Whatever. I don’t care what you think of me.” He said going back to his sofa. 

“Taemin?” You said feeling a bit guilty at your outburst. Afterall, it had been you who had asked to listen to what he was playing; it wasn’t as if he’d forced it on you.  

“What? You still need something?” He said.

“Do you have any other, um… music tracks like these or is this one your favorite?”

“You still want to listen to it?” He said with a smile. “So you do like it.”

“N-no, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just curious where you got it since I haven't seen them sell these type of things in CD stores I’ve gone to before. Did you buy it online?” What am I doing playing dumb its not like he’d tell he if me made it himself or not and why am I even wondering about that it shouldn’t bother me. It’s not my business. 

“There’s several others I like, but… what I really enjoy is that innocent look on your face right now.” He said with a smirk before continuing, “You’re a curious one, why do you care so much about how I came to acquire it?”

“It’s perfectly normal to want to know! You’re the weird one!” 

“There you go again calling different tastes from your own weird.” He said, shaking his head. “It’s stupid to try and judge me using human standards.”

“I’m going to sleep now. Goodnight, Taemin.” Perhaps it was best just not to know. As you made your way up the staircase you heard him chuckle slightly. “What is it?” You asked, turning around.

“You were listening to this stuff right before bed. If you’re not more careful from now on dirty dreams will consume your sleep. I bet that’s what you’re hoping for tonight.”

“O-of course not!” Honestly why does someone so lazy  have to be so paradoxically good at teasing. He just seemed to love getting a rise out of your every time.

“You’re blushing again.” He said with a smile that had you gripping the banister railing tightly. “I suppose I was right then,” he said getting up and walking out of the living room. Damn that angelic face and those devious words. He always knew just what to say to take you out of your comfort zone. For someone so dead he didn’t have the right to make all of your senses come to life this way. 

[afni-fics]

Elder Scrolls DC - A Reluctant Dragonborn: Chapter 34: Hot Springs

Elder Scrolls DC - A Reluctant Dragonborn: Chapter 34: Hot Springs by C_R_Scott Fandom: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Red Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics), Batman (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Tim Drake, Lucien Flavius, Kaidan (Elder Scrolls) Additional Tags: Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Skyrim/DCU crossover, Reluctant Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Not Beta Read, Alternate Universe - Skyrim Fusion, Modded Skyrim, Skyrim Spoilers, Tim Drake is Dragonborn | Dovahkiin, Tim Drake-centric, Trope: It sucks to be the chosen one, Trope: Trapped in another world, Trope: Kidnapped by the Call

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Summary:

Along the way to Ivarstead, the trio happen upon a set of hot springs...

Despite how rocky things started off that morning, as Tim and his companions continued along the road leading towards Ivarstead, things mellowed out somewhat. 

The most obvious quality of life improvement with Kaidan now travelling with them was that weaker threats like skeevers, small wolves, and the occasional small group of bandits that would've tried to take a chunk out of him or Lucien previously were content to keep their distance. Dressed in heavy steel armor with that giant sword longer than most men strapped to his back, Tim was honestly glad for the obvious visual threat deterrence Kaidan provided. After his argument with Lucien, and after spending half the night rescuing their new friend from the Thalmor, Tim was not in a mood to finish any fights started by the wildlife or wandering criminal population of Skyrim. 

While Lucien focused on conversing with Kaidan for most of the morning, Tim enjoyed the newfound peace and quiet of this leg of the journey and having a few hours to observe his surroundings alone with his own thoughts. The further they went, the more mountainous and wooded the terrain became, and the more enamored he became with his surroundings

The young man took note of the types of trees and plants that grew in abundance around him. Idly he wondered which were useful, potentially edible plants and which were toxic. He also made it a point to be mindful of movements of the animals that wandered amongst the trees. If he was going to have to survive out here, he needed to learn know how to identify, at a glance, the harmless creatures from the more dangerous ones that would immediately see him and his companions as a quick meal. 

"I should buy another journal, just for field notes, and pencils for sketching," Tim thought to himself. "I wish cameras were a thing here." There was so much... too much... to see and learn.

    "Word is, the waters here are good for you." 

The sun was starting to get affectionate with the horizon and Tim glanced backward to notice that Kaidan had paused to look at something just off the cobblestone path. He followed the swordsman's gaze to an interesting looking location on the other side of the river they'd been following towards their destination.

"What is that?" he asked

"Hot springs," Kaidan explained as he went to a better ledge overlooking the river and the pools beyond. "I've passed by every now and again over the years, but never indulged myself. The locals believe the water has healin' properties, and somehow they stay warm all year round."

"We have to camp here tonight!"

Kaidan and Lucien both looked at Tim curiously, who was staring at the hot springs with an expression of obvious longing.

"We 'have' to?" Lucien asked.

Tim whipped his head to his two travelling companions. "Yes! We 'have' to!" he insisted. Then, without even waiting for the other two to agree or disagree, Tim started making is way off the beaten path towards an obvious set of large stones that could easily serve as a makeshift bridge to across the river. After sharing a confused glance and a shrug of shoulders, Kaidan and Lucien both followed after him.

It didn't take Tim long to reach the outer edges of the hot springs ahead of his companions. The air was unfamiliarly warm and humid and there was a distinct medicinal aroma in the air. Tim took it all in with relish. As he got to the waters' edge, he tugged off one of his gloves and tested the temperature of both the sands on the shoreline as well as the water with his hand. He didn't even bother trying to mask the murmur of approval that escaped his lips.

"Are you seriously considering indulging in these springs, Timothy?"

Tim nodded at Lucien as he rose to his feet and tugged his glove back on. "I am not passing up this opportunity," he said as he glanced at the clearing just a dozen or so yards away from the water's edge. There was more than enough room to comfortably set up camp, and Tim was quick to set down his pack and pull out the things needed to set up their tent. 

"Opportunity?" Kaidan echoed with with confusion, which was rewarded with an exasperated grumble.

"It has been literal weeks since I've been able to take a decent bath since I woke up in Skyrim," Tim told Kaidan as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Not to mention it's cold all the damned time out here, especially at night! Every day the choice is either be clean and flirting with frostbite or stay decently warm but filthy." He glanced at Lucien, who was observing him with a fair amount of growing amusement.

"I think you're exaggerating a bit regarding how cold it is out here," the scholar chuckled.

"I probably am, but I don't care," Tim said matter-of-factly as he started setting up the tent as quickly and efficiently as he could. "You want me to not look for trouble tonight? Then this is your best chance for it, because short of a fucking dragon attack I am not squandering the chance for a hot bath and a decent night's sleep in a place that's actually radiating warmth instead of sucking it out of me."

While Kaidan regarded Tim with a fair amount of undisguised concern before borrowing an axe to collect firewood, Lucien just continued to snicker under his breath as he pulled out the cooking gear and ingredients from his own bag. It was his turn to cook, after all.

   "I am never taking hot baths for granted ever again," Tim thought to himself with a content sigh once he finally sank chest deep into the springs after finding a spot where there was a natural stone ledge next to the water's edge that allowed him to lounge comfortably while submerged. After camp had been set up, the sun had set, and Lucien had just started cooking, Tim was adamant about enjoying the springs as early and as long as he possibly could. After assuring Lucien and Kaidan he'd only be a few yards away, Tim made his way to the nearest deep pool he could find, stripped off his gear and clothing, and stepped into the deliciously hot waters.  After taking several minutes to actually clean his skin and hair, the young man finally settled into a mostly tranquil state as he stared up at the starry night sky with its twin moons. It was so warm and peaceful out there. One could almost forget that Skyrim was a wild mostly-untamed land full of a wide variety of things that wanted him dead.

Almost...

The subtle sound of something skulking in the shadows of some nearby trees behind him caught his ear. Without moving his head, Tim's eyes glanced towards the trees and recognized the outline of a man among the evergreens. Casually, Tim moved from where he was sitting and made his way back to the shore where his clothes were folded. He rummaged through his bag and pulled out a length of linen cloth he was planning on using as a towel. 

A feint. 

From beneath the cover of the linen cloth, Tim slipped several throwing stars into his hand. Then, as quickly as he could, he threw the stars at the evergreens right where the shadows looked most man-shaped. They whistled through the air and embedded themselves in the trunks of the trees with solid "THUNKS".

"What the fu--?!" the man in the darkness shouted as he quickly stumbled away from where the wickedly sharp metal stars had nearly clipped him. Unfortunately for that poor soul, the stars themselves had been another feint. 

While the stranger was distracted, Tim had wrapped the linen cloth around his waist and recovered his metal quarterstaff. On the silence of bare feet and without the weight of his own armor slowing him down, the vigilante rushed his distracted stalker and struck him with a headshot and a couple of body blows from his staff before finally taking him completely off his feet, where he crashed to the sandy shore with a clatter of metal.

Wait... Metal?

"What in the world is going on?" Lucien called out as he rushed to where Tim stood with a lantern in hand. As soon as the light was close enough to chase the shadows away, it was clear who Tim's unfortunate victim was.

"Kaidan?!"

Their new swordsman, flat on his back on the sand, groaned as he brought a hand up to his head. "What the Oblivion was that?"

Tim relaxed his defensive stance. "Were you... spying on me?!"

"Guardin'," Kaidan muttered as he gingerly eased himself up into a seated position. "Least, that was the plan. To keep watch your back while you were... vulnerable." He glanced at Lucien. "I thought you said he was bad at self-preservation?"

"I did, but I meant that in the way that he frequently throws himself into dangerous situations without any concern for his own health and wellbeing." Lucien shook his head, set down the lantern, and cast a quick healing spell over their swordsman. "When it comes to actual combat, Timothy's really quite skilled."

Tim leaned against his staff as he watched Lucien finish his healing. "Y'know Kaidan, you could've just told me you were worried about my safety before I went into the water."

"You wanted to bathe. I figured you'd tell me to sod off for privacy."

"I would've said, 'Do what you want. I don't give a fuck.' I can watch my own back just fine though." After taking a moment to retrieve his throwing stars from the nearby tree, Tim turned back to the pool. "Now if you guys don't mind, I'm going back to finish my bath."

Now that Kaidan was upright and he could see Tim more clearly in the lantern light, the swordsman took a moment to get a good look at the lines of the young man's body that had previously been hidden beneath layers of leather armor. Though he'd originally assumed he was a noble or scholar based on how Tim spoke and carried himself, as well as how he interacted with Lucien, Tim's body told a different story. His muscles were lean and well defined, looking like they'd been built over years of training for speed and finesse, rather than raw power and brute strength. His pale skin was also a map of scars scattered across both his torso and his limbs.

As Tim walked off, Kaidan noticed something that made his breath catch in his throat. It was the sight of Tim's burn scars consuming nearly the entirety of the young man's back and part of his left upper arm.

--- NOTE:

Indulging in little slices of life as Tim, Luci, and Kai travel towards Ivarstead. I'd forgotten initially during the playthrough that the hot springs were along one of the main paths to Ivarstead, so when Kaidan commented on it in-game I couldn't resist the pit stop.

It's been in the back of my mind that Tim has been missing a lot of modern conveniences since waking up in Skyrim. Motorized vehicles, computers, and cell phones/communication devices have been obvious ones. However, it occurred to me that things like regular access to hot baths would also be sorely missed too, especially in a region as cold as Skyrim, especially when you're spending days to weeks on end out on the road or in the wilderness.

#elder scrolls dc#fanfiction#tim drake#skyrim fanfiction#red robin#batfam#crossover#lucien flavius#wip#kaidan skyrim#afewnovelideas

[cal-cium-the-nerd]

fanfic ideas for mol 2

update i guess? part 1

Zach brings a dragon egg home after one of his Escapades (he tends to go out ‘incognito’ to fight monsters every once in a while to de-stress) and Zorian and him end up raising it. 

a fic about Alanic and Lukav’s younger days. i have a few notes for this one but i don’t know whether to give details since it’s one of those fics i’d like to write someday (someday...) (although i’d really love to see what other people come up with)

an AU/Canon Divergence where ‘souls have colours and are more easily seen by those with soul sight’, and after Zach and Zorian’s soul-meshing accident, their souls turned out to be… somewhat curious, to the casual onlooker. Something like, if Zach’s soul was red and Zorian’s soul was blue, then now their souls are sort of purple?? like Zach would still be a bit more red than purple and same with Zorian, but when they’re standing side by side anyone with soul sight would be able to tell something’s up and think that maybe they’re lovers who figured out a soulbonding ritual without the drawbacks?? because they’re not linked but their souls are.. compatible? they kind of just fit with each other. basically they become the very first (and only) soulmates ever. Quatach-Ichl, Alanic, Silverlake- They’re all convinced at first glance that these two are Inseparable and A Set (also we don’t technically know if soul sight doesn’t work like this so it could be canon).

on the soulmate AU thingy (i’m never gonna let it rest am I? jfc. i really should write this damn fic so i can get it out of my head), what if they’re the first-words kind of soulmates, but their words are the ones they first say to each other in Zorian’s first loop (i dunno if the original zorian would have the words for this one, so uhh maybe). They’re both very confused by it (since technically they’ve known each other for 2 years and those aren’t the first words they say to each other) but Zach kind of figures it out before the month ends? because he knows about the time loop and stuff. maybe he invites Zorian to the ball and tries to be all charming because he thinks Zorian will stop being his soulmate at the end of the month (i don’t know how soulmates work okay? neither does zach) (they’d still end up fighting QI and all). Zorian hates Zach a lot because he’s stuck with ‘Hot, isn’t she?’ and honestly what a dumbass. Zach’s also mad because ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ is so fucking vague. 

A crossover fic/series?? (i literally have this one under the name ‘EVIL PLOT’ because it started as me thinking of fics that could bring more people into mol/mostly crossovers) Basically ZZ obtain immortality (eventually) and then keep learning dimensionalism. After many years they figure out how to breach a passage to other dimensions. Then, in a very Ikosian manner, they try to visit all magical dimensions to steal learn their magic. Maybe a few funny shenanigans about ZZ being all scandalized by the way less rigorous magic systems work (stuff like ‘you just... picture it in your head and it happens?’ ‘you say this phrase and magic happens? like, perfectly??? in the first try???? what have i been practicing shaping exercises for centuries for’). 

There are many settings they could visit, but wouldn’t it be really amusing for them to visit Hogwarts?? They’d be like owo magic academy teach us your skills or we’ll attack you for knowledge and dumbledore or whoever insists that they have to learn the proper way so they have to get sorted and attend class with 11 year olds (here there are two possibilities: possibility 1- ZZ are grown ups learning alongside 11 year old children OR possibility 2- ZZ got to immortality a tiny bit late and they ended up making a youth potion. They... might have miscalculated things a little bit, and they end up as 15 year olds for ETERNITY).

ALSO Zach would clearly be a Gryffindor, but I’m not really sure whether Zorian would be a Ravenclaw or a Slytherin??? Like he fits Ravenclaw a little bit better, but it’d be hilarious for Zach to hear people say that ‘slytherins are evil and dangerous’ and being all like ‘well he’s dangerous, sure, but I wouldn’t go as far as to call him evil, y’know?’ and them being adorable interhouse husbands (immortal husbands shenanigans immortal husbands shenanigans immortal husbands shenanigans immortal husbands shenanigans immortal husb-).

(ps: do not talk to me about she-who-must-not-be-named, i am currently pretending the harry potter books just came into existance by spontaneous generation one day).

[rkpcy]

* one night only ,

@rkjisoo:

she hates the sound that it makes but deep in thought, she cannot help but listlessly tap the end of her ballpoint pen onto the thick paper. thud, thud, thud─it was as though the sound taunts her in her non-decision. she held it in, rolling her eyes as she pushes the pen and the paper away. so much for meticulous planning and yet still coming up empty. after half an hour she knows she would get nowhere. knows that ideas cannot simply materalize right before her eyes through a scribble here and there and some quick google search.

this is not a logical equation she can solve. this is a birthday celebration for the one person she would have it in herself to plan a celebration for.

she thinks, what has he never done thus far? after more than a year of being together, jisoo would like to believe that she knows him at the very least. knows what he likes, what he enjoys doing, and then some. following this train of thought, she then thinks about what he needs to do but deprives himself of. he works terribly hard day in and day out; she thinks he ought to take a break from everything even if just for a few days. while she prides in doing the same thing herself, jisoo knows that her dedication is incomparable to his especially since this is the path he had dreamt of taking. he had an insurmountable amount of passion in him; a fact that makes her fall in love with him even more each day.

standing up, she immediately reaches for her things and heads out of the café where she has been lingering in. driving towards the next destination with a resolute mind and an enthusiastically beating heart.

                                        ──────────────────

“happy birthday,” she whispers over the phone. his birthday unfortunately fell on a day where they are separated from the distance of their work schedules. yet she would be damned if she would let this day go without a heartfelt message and without hearing his voice. some things in life can wait; like the birthday present she would unveil over the weekend. “you’re getting old, aren’t you?” she jests, a smile on her lips as if she would not be turning the same age in two months. “i’ll keep this short. thank you for being in my life and for staying enough that i can celebrate your existence for two years now. i am eternally happy to have you. i love you and i’ll see you over the weekend.” how freeing is it that she can say those three words so easily. how she can believe in their love like that with no greater expectations than just to be with him. with another smile, she ends the call. dreams about their weekend together in flashing images as she heads back inside her training building.

                                        ──────────────────

the weekend came quickly enough. the envelope was tucked comfortably inside her purse and she drives to his place, an overnight bag sitting on the back of her car. when she arrives, she welcomes herself inside and smiles up at him. “happy birthday.” reaching up, she presses a chaste kiss on his cheek. “you did what i asked, right? you packed an overnight bag?” she gave him clear instructions, never missing a beat when it comes to detailing what sort of clothes he needs to bring with him. there might have been a clue somewhere in there with where she intends to bring him but she’s determined to keep a tight lip on it until they reach their destination. this time, she happily sits behind the wheels. finding amusement as he looks tall in her otherwise reasonably sized crossover. 

as they near the place, it becomes unmistakable where they’re headed. pulling up at the valet, she instructs the staff to wait as she turns towards him to explain. “here is my birthday present.” reaching from her bag, she offers the envelope towards him. inside was a confirmed reservation for signiel seoul and a seoul sky tower ticket for two. she figured, what was the best way to find relaxation than spending it in a hotel where everything is served for you? with baited breath she hopes that he will like it. he deserves to have something as nice as this, even if it’s something he would deny fiercely. “you deserve to rest and think about only yourself even for just a weekend. i know it is not something you would willingly get for yourself so i got it for you. it helps that i get to enjoy it too.” she smiles, taking his hand in hers and squeezing once. cupping his cheek, she caresses it with her thumb finger before letting go. “we should head in.”

they enter their space and it’s even more wonderful than it was in the pictures that she saw. the seoul night sky gleams from their bedroom view and she’s enraptured, holding his hand as she leads them towards the window. standing there side by side, she leans her head on his shoulder. she blinks a few times, realizing that she’s seen multiple views of the city with him. knowing even further that she wants to see a million more if it is something that they would do together. the night is exceptionally special to them and she’s glad she brings another aspect of it in celebration of a beautiful occasion. turning towards him, her eyes gleaming with all of her affection. “i love you. here’s to spending more birthdays together.” rising on her tip toes, she pulls his head down for their lips to meet in a tender kiss.

after over a year of dating, chanyeol would be lying if he said he wouldn’t be upset if he didn’t at least get a text message from his girlfriend on his birthday, even if he isn’t the type to get upset about that kind of thing in general. luckily for him, jisoo is as thoughtful and attentive as ever, being the one to even remind him that there’s something special about the twenty-seventh of november, not only a day of celebration of his birth, but a day he can hear the tenderness and affection even more in her voice, a day where his smile grows wider than he thought possible, unable to be stopped even if he’d tried. 

unfortunately, that’s all he gets for the moment, just the sound of her voice wafting through the speakers of his phone like the irresistible call of the siren at sea. usually, something like this would be enough, from friends family. a heartfelt greeting, a congratulatory message, but with jisoo, he can’t help but want more, to see her and feel her and hold her, but that’s the drawbacks of a secret relationship, of being locked away in different buildings across the city, bound by rules and responsibility. it’s a life they’d chosen, but that doesn’t make it any less difficult to bear.

luckily, the weekend comes quickly enough, and her appearance couldn’t have come at a better time (gentle scolding for her hospital visit notwithstanding). the exhaustion that had crept into his bones from the twelve hours spent on his feet in sinchon seem to all wash away the moment she appears before him, a vision of beauty as she always is, even more each time they meet.

he’s curious about where they’re going, bag tossed into the bacck seat of her car, eyes far too focused on her profile to notice the roads they’re taking or where they’re going, but once they arrive, his mouth hangs agape and full of wonder. she’s absolutely right—he would never get for himself, mostly because he could never afford the luxury. a place like this is something he couldn’t even dream about, let alone step into. just standing there, he feels out of place, like he doesn’t belong, and he turns to jisoo to tell her so, that it’s all too much, but she knows him better than even his own mother, and her light teasing and gentle smile ease him into the specific kind of calm that only she can bring.

still, he’s not going to lie. there’s still a part of him that’s apprehensive, about missing even a minute of training, about being seen, being caught, but she seems so excited, so happy to share this time with him that he can’t help but feel guilty for having these thoughts, so he shoves them to the back of his mind where they belong, and instead follows her inside to enjoy the weekend she seems to have meticulously planned out for them.

by the window, he releases his hand from her grasp, only to hold onto her small frame from behind, completely enveloping her in his warmth as they look out into the night sky together. they’ve seen this skyline before, more than once, on different occasions, but it always feels brand new when he’s with her. resting his head atop hers, he begins to sway, humming the tune of some unknown and untitled beat. when she turns to face him, he ceases his movements, hands resting at opposites sides of her waist, staring down into her eyes with every single drop of love and affection his body holds. his smile, ever present, is soft and tender, and he leans forward, pressing their foreheads together. he’s never felt anything like this before, totally enraptured and enveloped in one person, and for once, the thought of it doesn’t make him want to run away.

“i love you, too,” he speaks tenderly, voice just above a whisper before their lips meet, electricity sparking as skin touches skin and coursing throughout his entire body. he places a hand behind her neck, supporting her head as he deepens the kiss, as if it’s the last he’ll ever give her, reveling in all that she is and everything that she means to him. reluctantly, he pulls away, only enough for him to speak, words dancing in his hot breath against her lips. “thank you. for everything.” he smiles, once again swaying to an unheard tune. “for loving and taking care of an idiot like me.”

[europeanguy]

Gotta Gogh [Part 1: Tour-guiding for Dummies]

Pairing: Nadia x Maxwell

Genre: Fluff (?)

Words: 1,684

Tags: Canon Divergence, Crossovers, Curse words probably, The Riot Club!AU sort of

- an accompanying fic for this drawing

There were two people looking at the Cordonian Ruby — Nadia assumed they were a couple by the way that they stood a little too close together and the magnetic energy that seemed to spark between them. Like she couldn’t have pulled them apart if she tried.

Two girls. Well, women. One was tall, tan, and toned to the gods. She probably modeled, or played sports professionally. The other one was shorter, medium blonde hair done in a side-braid, pretty enough to be an actress. Neither was Nadia’s type of course. She looked at them the way she looked at Picasso’s paintings — she likes what she sees. It was a nice sight.

The tall one snakes an arm around the blonde’s waist as they walk away and once again, Nadia was alone. Like something in this museum would come alive any second now. Nadia swore that one time that the portrait of the late Queen Kenna Rys blinked at her, but that was probably the result of caffeine withdrawals.

 “Welcome home,” – the letter said. Nadia could never forget the feeling when she received her acceptance letter — it was like getting accepted to Hogwarts — if Hogwarts had exchange programs that would only last for one semester. 

The University of Cordonia had a thriving student population of 5,000 (they were very selective) — composed of the country’s finest minds or filthy rich. You could be either or both. They offered an amazing Fine Arts program, given the country’s own rich history and deep love for the arts. Not to mention the white sand beaches, castles, princes she could bring home and make Kai so jealous with — but the truth is, it’s been two weeks and Nadia had been nothing but lonely. She hasn’t so much as dipped one toe into the ocean, visited a castle, nor met a prince (this one was unrealistic, even Nadia would admit so). So far her only friend would be Otis — the museum custodian — who happens to be sixty-eight and hard of hearing.

 The next day Nadia is greeted by a boatload (literally a boatload – well, cruise ship) of tourists. She was advised by the financial aid admin through a phone call to be prepared with extra research this time as to not repeat the Cordonian Ruby incident.

“Look, I know you try your best, but please be more careful this time,” Nadia could hear the anxiety radiating off of Helena’s voice. “I was advised that the Pierce moneybags would be present today.”

“...moneybags?”

“Yes! They’re looking to invest in the museum.”

Nadia looks around the empty entrance hall from her chair. If there was a speck of dust anywhere she wouldn’t be able to spot it (care of Otis). The rooms were individually temperature-controlled. They even had wifi.

“Do we even need it?”

Helena heaves a sigh so loud that Nadia could almost feel her exasperation herself. “Yes, Nadia, we need it! It can give us access to public collections, long-term maintenance,”

Nadia’s mouth forms into a small “o”.

“And think about Otis, he can retire right now and be at home, not worrying about anything because the museum WILL generously pay for his retirement plus pension!”

“I think Otis wants to live here until he dies.” Nadia whispers.

“Bottomline is, Nadia, you have to know what you’re talking about this time.”

“Yes, I know you’re referring to the Cordonian Ruby incident-“

“Don’t call it that.”

“Anyway, the incident — well, it’s not gonna happen again. Don’t worry.” In hindsight, Nadia’s first lesson should have been The Significance of Apples in Cordonian Culture 101. It would explain so much.

“Right. I trust you,” Helena says. “They’ll be arriving at around eleven in the morning.”

 The tourists arrive right on the clock, they had a tour guide of their own (a giant 6’5 guy who looked like he could bench press three of her, plus Otis) but apparently the boss-man Bartholomew Pierce wanted someone who was more familiar with Cordonian art scene. Nadia was hardly a local, but she had been studying nothing but the country’s art everyday since she got here – she lived and breathed it. Well, for two weeks anyway.

Chaz – the tour guide – hands Nadia a blue flag with “EOS” on it. “You can take it from here,”

The crowd was pretty small, more or less forty people, she wouldn’t need a flag. It’s not like the museum had other people aside from the group. “EOS?” Nadia gingerly takes the goofy flag.

“Ember of the Sea.”

“Shouldn’t it be EOTS?”

Chaz snorts. “No that sounds stupid, now go.”

 Nadia takes her place in front of the group, holding the blue flag above her head. “Hi everyone, I’m Nadia, on behalf of the University of Cordonia, I’d like to welcome you all to the museum,” She takes a deep breath before continuing. God, public-speaking never gets easier. “Firstly, I ask that you do not touch anything, and please do not deviate from the group-“

 The tour goes surprisingly well. Nadia studied up on the Cordonian Ruby (the country’s Mona Lisa – in terms of notoriety). Oil on canvas, commissioned by King Fabian – a direct ancestor of the current royal family, painted by an anonymous artist in 1816. The artist was rumored to be a mixed English noblewoman who became a lover of the young King, resulting into her painting the Cordonian Ruby, a gift to symbolize her love. However, she died of heartbreak since the late King loved his Lythikos Moscato and other mistresses more than her.

 Nadia leads the group to the portraits section – or as she secretly calls it stuffy-rich-people-paintings – and with this she gets to relax a bit. She tells them a few facts, lands one or two (Helena-approved, non-offensive) jokes, and lets the group disperse across the room to let them look at the art without her spewing random information about how Luther Nevrakis from The Crown and The Flame is actually based off of a real Luther Nevrakis who wasn’t a super-villain. Well, an obvious super-villain.

 “Nadia?” A pre-teen girl approaches her, followed by a… twin? Except the second one wore glasses and a slightly embarrassed look on her face. “Who do you think is hotter?”

“We’re trying to settle an argument.” Glasses explained. They gesture to a family portrait of stoic looking parents – the mother’s expression a little warmer than the father’s – and two starkly different brothers. One with black hair and fierce gaze, and a younger one with brown hair and the tiniest smile on his face.

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable talking about boys your age…” Nadia laughs awkwardly.

“Well, they’re dead so it doesn’t matter… right?” The first twin looks at Glasses. She simply shrugs.

“I don’t care I don’t even like boys.” Glasses pushes up her specs on the bridge of her nose as-a-matter-of-factly. “But now that she said it, it is really weird to ask her that.”

Nadia checks the information plate beneath the family portrait. Beaumont, 2004. “Well, this was seven years ago, so I don’t think they’re dead.”

A small, and sudden racket at the other end of the room captures Nadia’s and the twins’ attention. A group of boys (students, probably) were speed-walking through the room, laughing in a way that disturbed the peaceful vibe – and Nadia realizes that they were walking towards the one place that only Otis is allowed in. He explicitly told her to never go there or let anyone in. It was a tall and narrow arch-way that leads to a grand curving staircase, but that was only as far as Nadia saw. She wasn’t the type to break rules anyway. 

The first guy jumps over the velvet rope, followed by a second guy who merely steps over it. Before the last one could lift his feet, Nadia’s onto their heels.

“Sir, you can’t go through there!”

The first one is long gone, already shooting up the staircase like a man child on a sugar-rush. The other two turn around looking like they just became aware of her presence – along with the other tourists. The middle one looks snooty – expensive coat, slicked back hair. He doesn’t acknowledge Nadia, instead he turns to his friend. “Handle this.” With one last judging look at Nadia, Slick turns around to follow the first one up the staircase. “Leo, wait up!”

“Um-!” Nadia could feel the heat rising up her cheeks. Oh, she would follow them up the stairs, damn Otis’ rules, she would like to give these entitled boys a piece of her mind-

Someone clears their throat. Nadia looks up at him, the only guy left, – he was tall and broad-shouldered, brown wind-blown hair, and an amused expression in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, instead he lifts his gaze from Nadia to a painting on her right. Nadia turns to where he’s looking and it registers on her. Same brown hair as the kid, same smile, only this time he was alone in the portrait and older. The plate said 2010. One year ago, and the man on the portrait was standing right next to her.

Shit.

A small part of Nadia still wanted to climb up the stairs and kick them out the window, but a bigger, smarter, part of her knew that if this guy was important enough to have his portrait hung in the same room as a prince – let alone the fact that he even had a portrait, in this case two – she had better start apologizing.

“I… am so, SO, sorry.” I’ve been here two weeks please don’t have me kicked out of Cordonia or assassinated I’m still young I still have dreams-

“Hey,” he flashes her an embarrassed smile and Nadia’s cheeks heat up. “It’s fine, honestly.”

“Max!!” Someone calls from upstairs. Probably Slick.

“Sorry, I gotta go.” He looks apologetic as he turns around to walk away, but not without looking at Nadia over his shoulder.

 “Whoa, he is hot,” Glasses and her twin suddenly appear beside her. “Okay, Jess, you win I guess.” Glasses shrugs, but Jess’s jaw is still dropped.

“That was… the Beaumont guy…” she says, looking at his solo portrait.

And sure enough, when Nadia reads the plate under his painting, it says Maxwell Percival Beaumont (2010), oil on canvas.

to be continued

FUN FACTS that you don’t have to read but the story will make more sense if you do lol and honestly I just really like fun facts pls read... please?

Title:

- I literally chose “Gotta Gogh” on a whim

Canon divergence:

- This takes place in 2011. Maxwell is 21 (1990) and Nadia is 19 (1992).

- This is inspired by that one scene in the riot club. There WILL be a version of the riot club in later parts, but it will be small since its mostly about Nads and Max.

Names:

- Otis means “keen of hearing”

- Helena the financial aid administrator is just a Cordonian parody of Helen Twombly. Points for creativity lmao honestly i just imagined helen twombly but it wouldnt make sense for her to be in cordonia

The Cordonian Ruby:

- The anonymous artist is the D&D MC and her death is based on the actual wife of the Prince Regent (George IV), Princess Caroline who “died of a heartbreak” - a cold hard fact. Jk, no, but she was in a toxic marriage and it was just a Bad Situation. George IV had several mistresses, fathered illegitimate children, and apparently was a Party Boy and he was an immensely unpopular ruler. This is all based off of my art history professor telling us Georgian Era gossip instead of sticking to the syllabus.

- The mystery of what the Cordonian Ruby Incident will never be solved. That is, until I actually know what happened during the “incident” HAHAHA

Progress:

- I wasn’t gonna post this originally, I just wrote it on my phone during a 3-hour trip (I got inspired by my own drawing LMAO) and I kept updating it during the week every night before I slept and suddenly it just blossomed into something that I kept thinking about so now it’s a fic!

- I will be posting more art and updates on max and nadia’s story in the near future lol I already know how it ends so dw I’ll come thru and finish this! (probably around 4-5 parts)

[thejanewestin]

unfinished tony stark/tenth doctor crossover

I’m posting some more in the fic graveyard because why not. Maybe someone will take an idea and run with it. Or maybe it’ll motivate me to actually finish one of these fics. This was going to be Tony/Ten and it was going to be SO HOT. damn it I need to be better about following through.this was a pretty great idea. I was smarter in 2013, I think.

***

He hurts, but he is marvelously comfortable.

Tony can't remember which of his recent reckless decisions landed him in the hospital, but it must have been a fucking doozy because every single part of his body is Banshee-wailing in pain. He keeps his eyes shut for a moment; he hates post-concussive conversation, and he wants to know the answers when the nurse yells "What year is it" three inches from his face.

Only...

No monitors beeping. No hum of voices. Silence.

He opens his eyes.

"The fuck?" He struggles and props himself on one elbow, wincing at the fresh flare of pain in his neck.

He's not in a hospital.

It's a bedroom -- at least, it's a room with a bed. The walls are rusted metal, studded with rivets the size of watermelon halves, and the room itself is sort of shaped like the inside of an inverted ship: four-inch-wide ribs arcing smoothly toward the domed ceiling. Other than the bed, it is completely empty. That is, except for the Iron Man suit, which is in pieces against the wall.

Tony peeks under the sheets. He's completely naked.

"Awesome," he mutters.

He stands up slowly, leaning on the carved wooden headboard for support, and takes stock of his injuries. Neck sore, but -- he pushes on the knobs of his spine, tentatively at first -- likely no fractures. Muscle aches, check. His left hip is killing him, but it's been fucked up since that spill he took in the Mark II, so he can't blame --

"Oh God," he says.

"The portal closed," says a man's voice from behind him.

Tony whirls. So does the room.

He staggers, and suddenly there are hands on him, easing him back down onto the bed. "There you are, right."

Tony leans forward, gags.

"Put your head between your knees," the man advises, and Tony could punch him, the smug British bastard. But he complies, and gradually the vertigo resolves.

"Better?"

Tony turns his head just enough to look up at the man sitting beside him. He's slight and handsome, with shaggy dark hair and a neat, pinstriped suit, and he's looking at Tony with an expression caught somewhere between amusement and concern.

"Mind telling me why I'm naked?" Tony says irritably. "Don't mince words, really, especially if I owe anyone an apology."

"Hm." The man's lips curl in a small smile. "I'm afraid the garments you were wearing when I brought you aboard were in rather abysmal shape. I had to extract you from that suit after the blast."

"The portal closed." The words finally sink in. "So the Earth -- "

"Safe as houses," the man says. "You were slightly worse for the wear. I did what I could, but I'm afraid you may be feeling some residual discomfort."

"That's putting it lightly." Tony sits up and pulls the sheet over his lap.

The man stands. "There are clothes just outside," he says, indicating a door Tony hadn't seen before, "and you'll find a washroom around the corner. Take your time. When you've finished, I'll be in the console room."

By the time he finishes his sentence, the door is sliding closed.

"Console room?" Tony says, to no one.

It takes him a few more minutes to get to his feet, and when he gets to the door, he's momentarily stumped. There's no knob, no touch panel, nothing but a flat pane of silver metal on the right side of the doorframe. Experimentally, he presses his palm to it.

There's a hissing, pneumatic sound, and the door opens.

He looks to the left, to the right. It's a kind of atrium, in the same industrial style as the bedroom, and off to the right are clothes. Racks and racks of clothes, hung twenty feet high and twice as wide. Shoes, too, more pairs than Tony can count.

"You," he says, pulling a pair of Chuck Taylors off the bottom shelf, "and..." a long-sleeved black T-shirt, jeans -- "you."

The bathroom looks almost exactly like the one in his first apartment, and in fact, when he reaches to turn the water on, he sees the chip in the tile where he dropped the detachable showerhead and it hit the wall. He'd wonder about it, but his head hurts and the hot spray of the water feels better than sex, so he puts it out of his mind.  

"Took you long enough," the pinstriped Brit says, when Tony wanders into the console room.

"This is..." Tony stops, one hand on the wall, his eyes moving over the wires and panels and the column of light at the core of the TARDIS. "What is this?"

"Time machine." The man flips a switch.

Tony shakes his head. "And who are you?"

Flash of a grin, gone in an instant. "I'm the Doctor."

Tony blinks. "Doctor who?"

"So I've heard," the Doctor says.

"Time machine," Tony repeats. He sinks painfully to the floor.

The Doctor saunters over to Tony and drops to the floor beside him. "S'called the TARDIS," he explains. "Time and Relative Dimensions in Space."

"Not really what I expected a time machine to look like," Tony says, leaning back on his hands and letting his gaze wander over the console room.

"You don't seem surprised," the Doctor says.

Tony sees, out of the corner of his eye, the narrow, assessing look on the Doctor's face.  He grins. "Well. It's not the first encounter I've had with...relative dimensions."

"Build that suit yourself?" The Doctor jerks his chin in the direction of the bedroom.

"Yeah, why, want one?"

"Thanks, no." The Doctor's gaze hasn't left Tony's face. His eyes are wide and dark and serious. "May I ask you a question?"

"Haven't you been already?" Tony lets his hands slide across the floor away from his body, until he's lying flat on his back.

"If that arc reactor comes out, would it kill you?"

Tony sits up and looks sharply at the Doctor, one hand automatically going to his chest to cover the arc reactor. "What do you know about it?"

"Don't get defensive," the Doctor says placatingly. He springs to his feet. "It was just a bit...disarming...to see it in person."

"What do you mean, in person?"

"We-ell." The Doctor shrugs a little. "You know. I'd heard about it, and all, but I had a hard time believing that twenty-first century humans would be able to come up with something so...innovative."

"You know what they say about necessity, it's a motherfucker." Tony fixes the Doctor with a hard stare. "Or something like that."

"Something indeed." The Doctor doesn't blink or look away.

Finally Tony clears his throat. "You want to take me back to Earth, or what? Because my team is probably going to, you know, wonder where I am."

"I can't quite yet, I'm afraid," the Doctor says. "I was actually on a rather urgent mission. I was hoping to arrive at the Chitauri entry point prior to the invasion, but I was unavoidably delayed."

[tricklingstreamdacre]

Bring It On; Steve Harrington x Reader [Summer Camp/IT Crossover AU]

STEVE HARRINGTON x READER

SUMMARY: Some losers from Maine and nerds for Hawkin’s are about to battle it out summer camp style. But the leaders seem a little more focused towards petty battles. Will it get in the way?

WARNINGS/NOTES: Swearing, you don’t need to have seen It (2017) to know what’s going on but you need to at least understand how the losers act.

REQUEST: “We’re both ‘team leaders’ at a summer camp for little people and you may be hot but goddammit my collection of twelve-year-olds are going to beat yours into the dust” with Steve and the losers gang on readers team?? PLZ

WORD COUNT: 2.6K

A/N: apart from the fact that nearly everything I seem to write comes back to B99 somehow let’s start this shit show. 

AU WEEK: DAY ONE

AU WEEK REQUESTS OPEN

This was your second year of being a leader at a summer camp meant for kids.

You had arrived early, earlier than anticipated, you dumped your bags in your cabin and watched as people you’d never met slowly came in. You could understand why people didn’t want to come back, most of the kids were a nightmare, but you had been lucky, you had got the Loser’s Club.

“Hey, fuckface!”

A group of a little shits.

You smiled as you saw Beverly Marsh and Richie Tozier approach with large smiles, you extended your hand for a high five but were left hanging as they approached and looked judgingly, “Well hi to you too.”

Mike and Ben followed behind the two both eager to see you again, you were the cool teenager they all aspired to be like. You enjoyed that.

“Where're the others?” you asked as you started walking towards the boy's cabin (Bev being forced to share with other girls) with a curious eye scoping as more kids and mentors filed in.

“Eddie lost his inhaler so they’re looking for it,” Bev replied casually, the fact didn’t surprise you so you just let gave a smile in reply seeing the boys dib their bunks and unpack.

“C’mon Bev I’ll take you to your cabin, it’s not far away.” you gestured to the door as Beverly followed behind her heavy bags in tow. 

By now most of the people had arrived and you watched the new counsellors become acquainted nonchalantly before feeling Bev tug at your arm.

“Look over there,” she pointed to a buss of kids emerging, “see that kid with the bowl cut?”

You looked around confused searching for a bowl cut that would stand out amongst the others. But you were abruptly distracted by a counsellor coming out of the bus in the yellow polo and blue shorts we all had to wear.

Big luscious hair, stylish ray bands and a certain stance that left you all flustered, you cursed you teenage tendencies. But damn.

“Y/N!” Bev yelled shoving you slightly to bring you away from the hot counsellor. “Over there!”

You finally could follow her finger and amongst the crowd of curly haired boys, redheads and the hot counsellor, your eyes crossed a boy with a black bowl cut and lanky body, an identical version of the idiot Richie Tozier.

“What the fuck.”

The Tozier doppelgänger had scared the entire losers club.

With everyone filed in the auditorium where people went if it rained, you ignored the basic protocols discussed only nudging Tozier occasionally to get him to shut up.

“This year we also have a little competition,” the coordinator said with her condescending happy voice, “We going to be doing a point system for the winners of each game, the most points will win a special prize at the end of this camp!”

You smirked, you guys had that in the bag, guaranteed, you had brains - Ben and Mike -, braun - Bev -, chaotic rage - Eddie -, goody boys to win best behaviour - Billy and Stan - and Richie to piss off all your competitors, a distraction.

“Don’t look too proud L/N.”

The voice nearly scared you, you looked up and looked into the pretty eyes of the counsellor you’d stared down earlier, and despite the initial attraction, your competitive streak kicked in.

“Why would that be Harrington?” you asked looking at his name tag.

“Because your team is a bunch of crazy idiots.”

“And yours aren’t?” you asked peering to the group seeing the curly haired boy shove the boy with black hair childishly, you peered back amused and you could tell Steve wasn’t too impressed either.

“You’d be surprised what these kids can do under pressure.” he mentioned, “We’re winning.”

“My kids would face their worst fears if they needed to win,” you challenged, “I bet we’ll win.”

“You’re willing to bet on that?” 

“Yes.” you said without thinking it through, “What do you want if you, somehow, win?”

“How about I take you on a date? I promise it will be awful.”

“An awful date?” you laughed, how stupid, “Okay when my team win you’re going to arrive at the counsellor party in a special outfit.”

He seemed concerned and slightly deterred, “What is it?”

“You’ll find out.”

First activity, rope course.

Richie sent Mike the doppel into an angered rage, he fell. You won by thirty seconds.

Second activity, canoe race.

You and Bev came last because you got distracted by Steve who rowed without a shirt.

Third activity, orientation through the woods.

Stan got through it like a champ, Eddie panicked at the sight of nearly every bug, but Will managed to sneak the ‘Party’ through and bet the losers by two minutes.

Forth activity, abseiling.

Mike put up a good fight going down the cliff like a champ, but you when the losers friend jumped off a cliff they did too, your team aced it.

Fifth activity, tug-a-war.

Glaring at each other you and Steve stood arms crossed as you watched the other teams go back and forth, but you two both knew, you knew this was the deciding game. This was what decided if you went on a date with him or if he looked like an asshat at the counsellor party held once the kids leave.

“We can’t lose this guys.” you ordered the losers your hand pointing at every one of them, “I can’t go on a date with this dude.”

Their faces contorted at the mention, some a smirk, some a cheeky expression. Your frowned in reply, “Am I missing something.”

“Oh my god! Going on a date with Steve is the worst thing ever! I’m going to die!” Richie taunted, “We know you want to get in his pants Y/N.”

Gawking in reply you looked over to make sure Steve didn’t hear, “No I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.” Beverly sassed, “I know why we lost the canoe race.”

“That was a one-off that doesn’t count.” you said trying to convince yourself and the club, “Don’t screw this up for me.”

They rolled their eyes but nodded, “Yeah trust me I don’t want the short haired girl calling me mouth breather again we’re winning.” Richie said as they wandered over to the side of the rope that would determine theirs and your fate. You watched excited and anxious, with a tiny part of you that thought a date wouldn’t be so bad. But screw that side because your group of preteens are better than his goddammit.

You stood with the other counsellors, they’d heard about yours and Steve’s bet and had all placed their own bets on who they thought would win. You didn’t really care because the bets were tied. The girls liked to discuss some of the things you might have to do on the date, you stressed about it the more they spoke of it. But you could tell Steve was just as nervous as you.

You stood next to him as the coordinator called out the rules, “You know my kids have got this in the bag right?”

“Sure they do.” he scoffed.

“Mike can barely run ten meters without wheezing, the others aren’t that much better.” you said, “Plus you’re their mentor? They were doomed from the beginning.”

“Because you’re so much better.” he said challengingly looking down at you, “You’re way to proud of yourself.”

You both looked at each other, up and down trying to be intimidating, but nearly everyone else took it as sexual tension, “Well who else should I be for, the seven-foot back hair on your scalp?”

“Beats touching the dead hay hair you’ve got.”

“You wish you could.”

He kind of did.

“Whatever.”

The conversation ended and you both turned to the kids all holding the rope leaning back waiting for the starting whistle.

“REMEMBER EDDIE THE HARDER YOU PULL THE QUICKER YOU GET TO LET THE ROPE GO!”

The whistle sounded and immediately grunts and cheers could be heard, you and Steve were barking at your teams as they pulled back and forth them all putting up a surprising fight as it came in tied. It didn’t make any sense to you given how weak some of them were.

You looked at the sand their feet were digging into, that’s when you noticed it, mouthbreather girl; her feet weren’t even moving, it was like she was made of stone. She was weighing their team down.

Steve seemed to notice it to because a shit eating grin came to his face. You gawked in shock looking at him but were then distracted by a loud roaring team.

The losers were on their butt in the dirt as the party cheered.

You looked at Steve and he was already staring at you, he had a shit eating grin and looked at you with a knowing look. If any of the rumours you’d heard about this date were true this was going to be a date from hell.

“...Fuck me.”

With the Party the crowned winners and your team sore losers you watched as the winners got free time at any of the activities desired. But your team still managed to snag a bunch of marshmallows and cook them late that night as your own celebration.

But now, watching the losers leave for another year, you were left with the tedious task of the worst date of your life.

Starting with the outfit Steve had chosen for you.

Reluctantly you put on the outfit you’d once seen amongst the dress up pile and wandered towards Steve’s cabin knocking on the door as aggressively as you could. You heard hollers from his cabin mates as the door creaked open. Steve emerged dressed in black pants and a casual shirt, all while you were wearing an atrocious dress from decades ago.

With a hip jutted out you gave a mocking pose and twirled, “Happy Harrington?”

He laughed at your outfit, “Very, now shall we go to dinner?”

He extended a hand for you to grab which you took, “I’d like you to know I’m absolutely terrified.”

He shrugged, “fair enough.”

He walked you towards the lake that was cold to the touch be dawn, the weeds were moving in the wind and the water waved serenely despite the murkiness of the water.

You looked at him curiously he pointed out onto the lake where a double small boat was waiting with some food in a basket. You looked down at your shoes and grimaced, “Steve I’m heels.”

“Don’t care let’s go!” 

Pushing you towards the boat he helped you in as your feet shook and your balance betrayed you. after finally falling onto the right area Steve joined you and pushed you away from the docks and into the freezing water of the lake.

You placed your hands on the poofy dress trying to stay balanced, “I must admit I expected worse Harrington.” you mumbled looking at the assortment of food in the basket, “Wardrobe malfunctions aren’t exactly the plans of an evil mastermind.”

“But you haven’t heard the song I wrote for you.”

“What?”

“Or the song you're going to sing to the counsellors.”

“No.”

“Oh yeah,” he replied, “If I can make you wear that dress I’m going to make the most of this.”

“Oh yeah,” he replied, “If I can make you wear that dress I’m going to make the most of this.” 

You let out a groan that Steve stared fondly at, your hair falling in front of your face messily  you puffed it away from your eyes and stared at Steve in displeasure, “I hate you.”

“Love you too Y/N.” he mocked rowing you to the centre of the lake stopping and pulling the ores in he opened the basket and revealed an assortment of kiddy food with red cordial obviously mocking wine, “Ready for your meal?”

“Classy.” you replied taking, “But still delicious, what’s the punchline?” you asked taking a bite of a small sandwich filled with surprisingly good contents. Steve smirked as watched you munch on the sandwich.

“One of everything is filled with laxatives.”

You spat out the food comically wiping the rest from your tongue, “Excuse me?”

He laughed maniacally, “I’m totally kidding. Nothing has laxatives.”

You moved the basket away from your feet and towards Steve, “Forgive me for not trusting you.”

“Want some cordial-”

“No.”

As the night progressed it did get worse, your heel broke, he sang you an awful ballad and then made you sing a song to the staff about how amazing he was but now you were heading to his grand finale, luckily, in sneakers.

It had reached nightfall well and truly now, the stars were bright and you were praying for this torture to be over as Steve led you further into the woods.

“I admit, murdering me is the worst date ever but could we perhaps not?”

He chuckled in reply pulling you further into the forest aiding you in your hideous dress, “I’m not murdering you, the worst date is nearly over anyway.”

You mumbled a thank god before being pulled through some dense bushes that light only barely shone through. Pushing leaves away from your face you finally came into the clearing.

A campfire, several blankets and pillows with an assortment of camping food goods.

“What’s the catch?”

“Nothing,” he explained pulling you closer, “Your worst date is officially over, the best one is just beginning.”

After everything that happened you were a little relieved but disappointed that this seemed to have ended so quick, because despite the humiliation you had a lot of fun being an idiot with Steve, “But the bet was only one date?”

“Well, then I guess you can decide if I get a second one?”

You paused watched as he sat down amongst the pillows and drapped a blanket over his shoulders grabbing a bag of something, “I have marshmallows?”

Letting out a small laugh you decided, knowing the staff was leaving tomorrow and this was the last time you’d get to talk to him, “I’m coming.”

His face was entirely relieved as you wandered over and sat by him. He didn’t know if you would stay or not, but he was happy you did. You sat down beside him grabbing the softest blanket you could find and pulling over your shoulders and asked, “Hey, pass ‘em over.”

Passing a stick and opening the bag you grabbed several, impaled them and placed them over the fire. Looking over at Steve you smiled, “This is nice.”

He paused and you did so in tow, he obviously wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words so you waited patiently seeing the marshmallow cook over the fire.

“Y/N I... I really like you.” 

You pulled your marshmallow towards you looking at him sincerely, “Funny way of showing it.”

He smiled as you added, “But I really like you too.”

You both paused again turning back to the fire, “But I don’t live in Hawkin’s it won’t work.”

Steve frowned, “Doesn’t matter.”

“I can’t date a person and only see them once a year, that ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he countered, “But we can see each other, you’re only two hours away.”

You paused eating another marshmallow, “We could try.”

He smiled victorious, “Good.”

Another couple hours later you both headed back to the cabins, “By the way, they think I took you on a hell hike so I’m going to pick you up like a bride.”

“Wait no!” 

Too late as he picked you up making you laugh, everyone saw and watched amused clapping and hollering.

The next day you gave him a departing kiss as he got in his ride home, “I’ll see you in a week yeah?”

“Of course.” you nodded with a smile, “No sandwiches with laxatives yeah?”

“Never had any in the first place.” he smiled starting his car.

You waved with a smile as he drove away, he gave one back and you laughed as you disappeared into the woods.

Now you just had to count down the days.

[forwantofasking]

Space Husbands Crossover Prompts - Day 25

De-aged AU –  from @qingcong‘s prompt list ChristmasNew Year’s present.

( I was just kind of amused by the idea of Hal s a horny teenager, ngl... )

He has so much energy.

After so long relying on mental and emotional strength, it’s a small wonder to feel the physical power of his body in the brilliance of a prime he’s almost forgotten. So strong, in fact, he’d thought it a ploy at first - then laughed when he understood the truth of it. The triumphant grin that practically bared his teeth at the wannabe warlock brought an oh so satisfying tempest of fear and uncertainty spiraling into his ring, and really, that should have been more than enough.

If it weren’t for Jordan’s sudden, frantic shriek from below, it would have been.

Human teenagers are… a handful.

In truth, Sinestro had assumed they weren’t terribly different than Korugarians. After all, they seemed to share a good deal of physiological traits and predilections. Warm blooded, generally mammalian, skin, bones, mostly water. They even shared the same vaguely star shaped arrangement of limbs and similar basic needs for food, water, shelter and companionship. Even reproductively they were relatively close (which wasn’t all that strange given how easily Korugarians apparently bred with just about anything, he’d found.)

But most importantly, he’d always thought he had a fairly good grasp on the human process of aging after all the time he’d spent dealing with the various Earth lanterns in the past. Even the mild surprise with Rayner was quickly adjusted. In fact, he’d been under the impression the man was fairly representative of humanity’s adolescence, given so much of how he’d acted. Soranik’s relationship with him had developed later on, after all, and she had been only just out of a similar stage as far as he could guesstimate.

He is, apparently, very, very wrong.

“Come ooooon~!”

“Jordan, we have been over this.”

He can hear the pout. “It’s been a week already!”

“Yes, which should be more concerning for you, I think, than the state of your sex life.”

“Well I can’t do anything about the spell and I can do something about my sex life,” Hal snipes back, quickly back into the same snit he’s ended up in approximately every 30 minutes since this entire ordeal began.

“I am not sleeping with you.”

“You know, for a Super Villain, you’re really uptight about this.”

Sinestro sighs and just arches a somewhat amused eyebrow in Hal’s direction. No matter his irritation, he can’t help but find it entertaining to watch someone who should have been the greatest Green Lantern all but vibrate with his inability to expend energy or focus properly hardly at all. “Am I?”

Hal - or rather a younger, ganglier version of Hal - jabs a finger at him. “Don’t give me that bull. I’m not actually 15 and you know it.”

Sinestro’s smirk returns. “And yet you are compromised, are you not?”

“I-! That-!” Hal sputters, flailing for words as impotently as the willpower that has thus far eluded him shy of the most desperate circumstances. Eventually he bursts out with, “You try focusing when all you can think of is your dick!”

The smirk deepens.

“Ooooh no, no I told you before-”

“Jordan, you and I both know your lack of focus is only part if your issue with that ring in your… current state.”

“Yeah, well, that part is an easy fix, you know!”

“You have hands.”

“You’re unbelievable.” Hal throws his arms up and spins away to expend more of the pent up energy all but bursting from him. “We’ve fucked for, what, two decades now-?”

“- Three -“

“Three decades, and now you won’t touch me because I look-“

“- and act -“

“- like a teenager. That is not true.”

The other eyebrow comes up. “Is that so?”

“Yes, ‘it is so’,” Hal snarks back.

Sinestro takes a step forward, immediately within Hal’s personal space, and catches his chin, lording his height with the simple motion. “Jordan.” It’s remarkably easy to catch Hal’s attention with a bit of physical proximity and a single, commanding touch. For just a moment, the maelstrom of emotion crashing within the human sharpens almost entirely to tremulous anticipation. It’s a bittersweet sort of almost-fear he’s grown accustomed to over the years. “Do I have your… full… attention?”

“Yes-“

Thaal’s grin turns indulgent and he leans down, just shy of brushing their lips together. The soft crack at the end of the word is rather endearing, no matter the rest of the situation. “Good.” His free hand settles on Hal’s hip as the other slides slowly down the soft skin of a human neck. “Now tell me… what are you feeling right now?”

Hal makes a soft noise in the back of his throat that’s familiar even if it’s a bit higher than normal. Still, he leans into the touch with a small smirk of his own, arching his neck and leaning up to steal a kiss with an impish sort of gleam in his eyes. “I think you know that already.”

Admittedly, it’s rather fascinating to watch Hal’s years of experience peek through the thrum of insecurity and lust keeping him captive otherwise. Still, he has a point to make, and one of them has managed to maintain their strength of will in all this. “I do,” he murmurs, firming his hold at Hal’s waist to push him back on to his heels again. “I know that even now it’s not lust that has you… trembling.”

“Thaal-” His name sounds dry on Hal’s lips.

“Hal Jordan,” Sinestro interrupts, brushing a thumb along the edge of Hal’s jaw, “you are drenched in fear.”

“Sin-“

“And you have been for a week.”

Another soft whine swallowed back beneath his fingers as they wrap around Hal’s throat.

“Do you think I wouldn’t notice?” He hums, leaning down again to hover just shy of allowing more of the touch Hal is all but vibrating with a need to feel. “Did I not teach you… that focus is not the only thing required to wield a green ring?”

“You know-” Another swallow and Hal visibly struggles to keep himself from pushing away, his hands curling uselessly against Sinestro’s chest. “You know I… can’t-”

“Can’t?” Sinestro echoes and dips down to press his words against Hal’s throat, “or won’t?”

“… God that’s hot,” Hal all but whines, pushing uselessly against Sinestro’s chest when he feels more than hears the man’s quiet laughter. “You’re a real ass, you know that? Is that- Is this the game plan? Seducing me into a yellow ring? Really? You’re an asshole. A completely unredeemable asshole.”

Sinestro’s laughter becomes more apparent as he straightens enough to catch Hal’s lips with his own, now with intent. “Your vocabulary worsened,” he points out as they part.

Hal huffs. His ring sputters and spurts green light and fizzles out again, which only seems to drive Sinestro into deeper laughter. “Of course you think this is funny.” He pushes away again, but Thaal locks his arm around the small of Hal’s back, holding him in place. “Sin-“

“My point still stands.”

“Shut up and give me the damn ring so I can kick your ass.”

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

I think I’ve floated the idea before but Transformers/Overwatch crossover y/y

Skyfire and Mei bond over issues with polar research and about waking up to find that the worlds they knew have been completely upended. They share a want - no, a need - to save the world through science.

Blaster, Jazz, and Lucio as a trio of popular musicians who also FIGHT CRIME. You know. As you do.

Hot Rod and Gerard hit it off alarmingly well. They spent so much time together that Hot Rod came to have a similar accent. Everyone fucking hates them both. “You’d miss us,” Hot Rod says, and the crew all roll their eyes, but then Gerard is killed and Hot Rod goes AWOL soon after and the base feels hollow without obnoxious French laughter echoing the halls.

Brainstorm makes Winston a little uncomfortable. He’s a little too interested in the chrono accelerator, and all of his ideas seem alarmingly dangerous and unnecessarily destructive. Torbjorn bounces ideas for turret upgrades and the like off of him, though. Brainstorm is the only one who doesn’t think Torbjorn babying his turrets is weird. Likewise, Torbjorn makes no issue of the briefcase thing.

Prowl and Jack Morrison, you would think, would get along. They really don’t. Their straight-laced humorless personalities work fine together but Morrison plays just a little too much within the rules. Prowl’s operating style meshes better with Reyes, but in personality, they clash. Reyes is too friendly, has too much of an easy casual air and too many jokes and asides.

Years later, though, Prowl gets on alarmingly well with the vigilante Soldier: 76. There’s a job to do and a war to end, and they’re damn well going to do it and not let any rules but their own get in the way.

Perceptor is intrigued by Ana and her biotic technology, by the way she easily and comfortably straddles the line between healer and soldier. Creation and destruction, scientist and warrior, are warring roles that Perceptor has never truly figured out how to balance. They get along well, perched high above the fray, with single well-placed shots to take out anyone who threatens their friends. It still always takes him by surprise whenever Ana sets her scope on one of her allies and launches one of her concoctions into their shoulders. He knows it helps, it’s just...weird.

Human lives to Cybertronians are fleeting, he knows, whether they are violently cut short or end naturally, and he has reminded himself of this again and again and again - but still, he mourns her. 

Years later he is in pursuit of something else, something ultimately inconsequential, and he picks up traces of a biotic technology. He takes the casings, the scraps, a bit of spilled formula, and analyzed them to be sure, but that tech is unique. He abandons whatever task he had and traces her back to the Necropolis, settles in to the crypts that have been sparsely outfitted as living quarters, and he waits for the occupants to get back. Soldier: 76 and the Watcher return and Ana notices something out of place. They never had a microscope here. “Hello, Perceptor,” she says, and he transforms, crouched, doubles over and head and back still scraping the ceiling.

Optimus Prime likes humans. Some - a lot of - Cybertronians don’t. They think humans weak, worthless, inferior, and it isn’t just the Decepticons who believe such. Optimus fancies himself an idealist about humanity’s potential, about protecting them, but truly - they are terribly like Cybertronians, for good and much much more for evil. He hopes, perhaps naively, that some of the worst horrors and tortures are ones that only Cybertronians could invent by virtue of their mechanical nature - mnemosurgery, shadowplay, empurata. Needles slipped into human minds don’t reprogram them.

After the fall of Overwatch he is tracking down Talon, continuing the job of so many dead friends, one after another gone - Gerard, Ana - until in a blaze of flames everything was over - Jack and Gabriel. It is in Talon’s ranks that he sees a face he thought long dead.

“Amelie Lacroix?” She raises her head defiantly at her name, upped though she is in Optimus’ hands the way a human holds a hamster.We thought you were dead,” he says even as he realizes that she very well looks dead, pale with a waxy corpselike pallor, skin gone blue like too long spent in the cold.

“Do not try to appeal to my heart, Optimus Prime, for I have none left.”

“What did they do to you?”

“It is better this way.”

“Amelie-“

“Amelie Lacroix is dead. You remember the woman she was, but I am not her.”

He could have easily stopped her from grappling away and disappearing across rooftops into the evening, but he doesn’t. He remembers someone else’s words, long ago, before the war. Remember me as I was.

The humans still have shadowplay. They just don’t call it such.

Deadlock is...amused, that this human gang has the same name as him. He’s begrudgingly impressed when he plucks up one of their young upstarts only for the kid to fearlessly, and with incredible accuracy, shoot him straight in the optic.

Deadlock hangs around Route 66 for a time but moves on, without a warning, when he gets wind that Overwatch is on its way. He doesn’t feel like getting involved in that, and he’s been questioning all his life choices lately anyway. He finds himself in Nepal, falls in with some omnic monks, continues reconsidering his life. He stays for a time, under their guidance finds some semblance of peace, but ultimately he does not wish to stay in isolation. He meets some interesting characters on his travels, finds a sort of kinship with a wandering assassin named Hanzo and their dual quests to find atonement and redemption for events in their pasts.

Eventually he finds himself back in the American Southwest, near the same territory that he used to roam. It’s hauntingly empty now, a ghost town but for a few criminals floating through the area who are dispatched with ease by a lone gunslinger, a man who then turns and in one fluid motion draws his revolver and puts a bullet dead in the eye of the Cybertronian who has crept up to watch the proceedings.

“You again?” Mccree asks.

A hand over his shattered eye, remembering when this happened years and years ago, Drift asks, “You again?”

[distant-rose-archive-blog]

LOVED your fic recs! You mentioned that you had runner-ups, what are they? I'm curious because we have similar fic tastes and I've read most on your list.

Thanks mate! I’m glad you appreciated that and yes, I was originally going to post 15 fics, but I cut it down to 10 because I’m a lazy bastard. The following are honorable mentions to my treasure trove (or part two, view it anyway you want.)

Make a Wish by AcrobatElle

Rated: E

Noted Features: Wish Realm!AU, Canon Divergence (Season 6), Wish Realm Fix It, Older!Killian, Porn with Feelings

Author’s Description: Stuck in the Enchanted Forest after her wish was granted, Emma seeks out Killian. She doesn’t expect what she finds. 

Rose’s Review: If I were a bigger cunt than I already am, I would just download this fic and sent it to A&E and be like “See this? This is what you should have done you bloody fucking wankers instead of going for the laugh!” (I’m not bitter I promise.) This isn’t just amazingly crafted Captain Swan smut, it’s amazingly crafted Captain Swan smut that rips out your heart and makes you weep for Wish!Hook because he’s just so unhappy but so gracious and in love with Emma (all Killians are in love with all Emma’s, let’s just face it). He really could have been bitter but he’s just so accepting and encouraging of Emma and his main verse self that it makes you want to curl in a corner with a bottle of rosé and weep to “White Flag” by Dido. It doesn’t make you cry because it’s angsty, it makes you cry because they just fucking love each other so much and Wish!Hook kinda gets the raw deal because he has no Emma of his own. He arguably doesn’t really exist but you still feel bad because despite the fact he was unhappy that doesn’t mean he didn’t have a good heart. Ugh. Just read it and have feels. 

Put me in coach, I’m ready to play by killians-dimples

Rated: T

Noted Features: Modern!AU, PR!Emma, Athlete!Killian, Baseball & Killian

Author’s Description: PR Director Emma Swan moves to Pittsburgh intent on restarting her life. But playboy shortstop Killian Jones is making her job a hell of a lot harder with his antics.

Rose’s Review: Guys, baseball and Killian is my absolute weakness. I’m completely gaga for baseball player Killian. I honestly got a lot of Bull Durham and For the Love of the Game vibes from this (I don’t know if the author watches Kevin Costner baseball movies, but I sure as hell do because those are the only good Kevin Costner movies there are) with a twist of Trouble With the Curve (I love baseball movies, shut up!). This is unfinished and I seriously want to see where BK goes with it because I love it so and the tension between Killian and Emma is just getting started. As for usual, Killian is a hot mess with a heart of gold and Emma is the hard ass who is working to put him in line. There’s only a few chapters to this (and a super awesome smutty one-shot here: [LINK]) but I do love the tenderness displayed between them when they’re just hanging out and watching the Home Shopping Network. BK does an actually incredible job of giving Killian an air of loneliness without bluntly saying he’s a lonely guy during a scene where he’s having a conversation with a telemarketer he’s on friendly terms with. Before you even read Emma’s thoughts on the subject, it really just strikes you that this version of Killian has no meaningful relationships outside of David and Robin. I really hope she revisits it but it’s only five chapters in and I fucking love it.

Walking in a Straight Line by msgenevieve

Rated: M

Noted Features: Modern!AU, Drunk Kiss, UST, Slow Burn-ish (because they’re idiots), Roommates!Captain Swan, Lawyer!Killian

Author’s Description: It’s one of the oldest stories in the book. Two old friends have a few too many drinks, two old friends share a kiss. Happens all the time, right? But what happens when only one of them actually remembers it?

Rose’s Review: Technically this isn’t finished but where the author left off makes for a decent enough ending. This fic really pulls at you with the sexual tension and angst between Killian and Emma to the point where when they finally happened, I literally cheered in my seat and basically made a scene on the bus I was on. They’re so frustrating in this story and the rest of the cast (especially Mary Margaret and David) are notably agitated by it as well, which makes the ending result very satisfying. I am actually amazed that David and MM were friends with them for so long and just didn’t lock them in a room one day so they would finally just break all the damn tension. Walsh is positively wicked in this fic, knows all of Emma’s weaknesses and plays on them so well that you can’t help but flinch when he all but metaphorically stabs her and twists the knife. Killian is almost as much as an emotional mess as Emma is and the weight of his emotions is crushing, but not to the point where you start to hate Emma (which has happened to me with some fics.) All and all, the ending is worth the amount of emotional torture this fic puts you through.

Stardust in Your Skin by midwestwind

Rated: T

Noted Features: Soulmates!AU, One Shot

Author’s Description: Emma Swan may believe in magic and curses and fairy tales but she absolutely does not believe in soulmates.

Rose’s Review: I don’t usually read Soulmates!AU, but honestly this barely constitutes as an AU and the soulmates aspect is subtle, which is why I love it so much. The soulmates aspect is not overly played and I would argue meshes well with the whole OUAT True Love mythos. I love the constellation element to the soul marks and the added element of different constellations from different realms. Emma’s reluctance to buy into the soulmates thing is so characteristically her, and her mixed emotions of curiosity, anxiety and reluctance towards Killian’s soul stars is very palpable without being entirely in your face. The tenderness and vulnerability displayed in the final scene between Emma and Killian when she reveals her soul stars is so powerful and well written that it gave this one-shot a real place in my heart and a place among my favorite fics.

The Worst by alchemystique

Rated: T

Noted Features: Henry Centric, One Shot, Future!Fic, College!Henry, StepDad!Killian

Author’s Description: His life is so weird, weird weird weird, he used to think it was so cool but who the hell would believe him if he told them David Nolan was his grandfather - oh and also Prince Charming, no, seriously, like, the actual, real life husband of Snow White - and his mom is around here somewhere, probably figuring out the amount of time it takes to break in and sneak past security, or cataloging every emergency exit on campus. Weird.

Rose’s Review: I love everything about this one-shot here. It makes me laugh every time I read it because though it’s a much older Henry which we haven’t seen yet, the voice the author has chosen feels very organic and realistic. His exasperation with everyone, especially with Killian and David, is hilarious. Though Captain Swan is not the real focus here, I really love the depiction of Emma and Killian in this. They seem so comfortable with their relationship and I really love the lack of jealousy on Emma’s end towards all the co-eds and college moms ogling Killian. The ease and comfortability is just so refreshing because it’s Captain Swan and there’s always drama, and the lack of serious drama is a breath of fresh air. The banter is just so natural and loving and Henry’s lack of surprise/what-took-you-so-long-Killian reaction to their engagement is incredibly amusing. The best line: “Oh my god, my mom and Killian are literally True Loves, you actually can’t get any closer to it than those two unless you’re, like, Snow White and Prince Charming, and my mom could kill you with a toothpick for even having dirty thoughts about him”

The Dark Horizon by qqueenofhades

Rated: M

Noted Features: Black Sails!AU, Black Sails/OUAT Crossover, Pirate!Emma, Lieutenant!Killian, Pregnancy, Angst, Jones Family Dysfunction

Author’s Description: The Caribbean, 1715: Royal Navy Lieutenant Killian Jones and his brother, Captain Liam Jones, have just arrived to help pacify the notorious “pirates’ republic” of New Providence. But they have dangerous allies, deadly enemies, and no idea what they’re getting into when they agree to hunt the pirate ship Blackbird and the mysterious Captain Swan.

Rose’s Review: I’m going to admit it, it took me awhile to get into this fic and that’s mainly because I’m a terribly shallow bitch and for some reason huge paragraphs bug me (this is such a minor thing and something that is definitely easy to get over), but regardless I pushed through my bitchiness and actual read it because I love both OUAT and Black Sails, and goddamn. It’s very good fusion of the two worlds and it was fascinating to see a Captain Swan variation where Emma is more of the “moral corruptor” than Killian is and I do love the twist on that. I have to say the character I loved the most is Black Sam, who is just the unsung hero and moral support for everyone in this story. I was like “goddamn, I need this guy on the legit Black Sails show.” I’m more a Vane fan and he isn’t featured as much as Flint and Miranda are, but I could live with that. You really don’t need to watch Black Sails or have that much knowledge of it to fully enjoy this fic, which you definitely will because it’s so action packed. This fic is unfinished and I eagerly await to see what the author does with it.

[kurtty-drabbles]

Crossover

N/A: Am I obsessed with POV? Maybe. Yes, my creeper does have a tiny bit of magic, just a little.

@djinmer4

How someone becomes a superhero? Well, according to Joss Wheadon a female superhero needs to be brutally attacked and want revenge and focus on her pain alone. Which, shows how out of reality this guy is.

I´m Batgirl and I can say that I never was attacked or became a victim. I like to kick ass because I can do this, but to be deeper, people need a hero to look up in this grimly city.

The Young Blood found me after I beat all the Neo-Nazis in my street and making all of them being arrested and feeling fear(good, not lose sleep for this) and ask me to join them.

How to say no to Storm, the princes of Thermysca? The Young Blood is a vigilante group that protects Gotham and of course, we have no idea who is under the mask(my mask and wig is the best disguise) neither real names.

Which it was fine by mean until I meet the Creeper. The mysterious blue man(with a German accent) is my partner when we do patrols and he is a true enigma to me.

His humor, his mannerism, and his sardonic smiles.

“Why I use purple?Well, I think it blends well in the shadows and we´ve so many heroes wearing black, I just try to be original”

“I see, well, Gotham is dark enough that even Naruto can be hidden, but I think you should change your favorite color”

“why?”

“Blue looks much better on you”

I´m not stupid to not realize that people in our group are aware of him and not always appreciate him, but, somehow I don´t mind his oddities and I dare to say I like it.

I think he likes me, well, he seems at ease with me than with the others, then again, the Creeper is an enigma that I want to understand.

“Miss Pryde, is everything working nicely?” my boss break my muses and I explain to him that the cameras are working and my response wake a sort of domino effect making the staff working faster and now ready to make the show.

Oh, the Batgirl works as a TI in a Talk Show named Kurt´s Talk Show, a handsome man that is a mystery as well. German(from Bavaria, the accent give away I told this to him and he just smiles amused) and his name is Kurt Wagner.

A celebrity that is not like the others.

He found out Susie from RH was being fired for getting pregnant, Kurt viciously intervenes and now Susie can have her baby comfortable.

Once, Kurt interview a woman that was wearing a really small skirt and people in the social media star slut-shaming her, Kurt, himself did create an account on the social media used to shut up the haters.

And never, I repeat, never hit on a woman while working in the studio, which is something unheard here, Joey, for example, loves to hit on Carol no matter how much uncomfortable she feels.

What baffles the others and sometimes even me is that Kurt is not blind by his status, Kurt, the celebrity, see no problem in talking with Paul from the cafeteria amicably…or talk with me as much as possible.

“What odd guy”

“Your boss?”

“No, he is not my boss, per say, but he is pretty odd in the best way, I think”

“In 1, 2 and set” and with those words, Kurt´s talk show is on and I can see in the first hand the magic begins. Kurt is being his usual self and is very charming and sarcastic and the person is clearly enjoying the attention. Of course, is a woman.

I start writing something down, part of my job, stating that the screen is indeed working alright and when the lady begins rating passionately about her job, dream or whatever(I wasn´t really paying attention) I let my finger trace the screen for a mere moment on his figure.

And I take a shock when his eyes, on the screen, turn to me amused, it shouldn´t shock me since this happened before and it means nothing plenty of people do that (look straight to the camera and sometimes even wink) but when Kurt do…is not ordinary.

I repeated the gesture once again once the others staff resume paying attention solely to their occupation and not to me, and once again his eyes darted to me.

“What?” I can´t help to wonder about this. This makes me think at a time when, while as Batgirl and the Creeper was literally above me in the skyscraper,  I swear he could see me perfectly like we were face to face.

The Creeper is German and mysterious. Kurt is German and mysterious.

Many people in the Young Blood group likes to imagine him living in a sort of castle or another dimension, but…sometimes I can´t shake the feeling that he isn´t that far away.

“Ok, that´s a warp” my boss cut me again from my musing time and now the show is over, time flies faster when you are trying to decipher the riddles of the universe.

This is my cue to leave the room and go collect the microphone, the maze knowing as the studio is easy to travel if you work here as long I have.

“Hi, Kurt” I replied to the man drinking coffee from his favorite mug, a bat one.

“Ah, Katzchen, you improve your fashion choice,” he said amused and I didn’t get what he was saying until I notice him looking at my shirt “ a Creeper shirt? didn´t know he was your favorite”

The shirt has the creeper image saying ’the creeper was right’ the new meme begins always with him.

“Well, I kinda like him…he´s funny” Kurt just give one of those secretive locks as if he knows the ending of how the movie will turn out and won´t tell spoilers or will give spoilers.

“Think Mathew Perry can do him?” this question jolt me back to when Creeper told me about movies and celebrities.

“Well, to be honest no…he is German so it would make sense a German actor to be him if there´s ever a movie about him. And you have any fancast for Batgirl?”

“Any cute and sexy Disney actress will do, a legal one, mind you” I feel many things right now “ and of course, a Jewish one, after all, Batgirl is Jewish and proud of it”

“Yes, she is” damn right I´m. “do you like red hairs?” I asked not knowing why I´m not a real red hair(my wig is but no one in the group seems to notice it)

“No, not really, but I like Batgirl, she may be my  only exception, she seems strong and kind, something rare in this city, hey, are you alright?”

I can feel the blood on my cheeks surely making me look odd.

“Yes, I´m fine. Don´t worry about it” then there´s the trademark smile of him and ask me.

“Are you hungry? Because I´m and the cafeteria put a new menu to us and I did promise you hot chocolate, didn´t I?

"Yes, you did”

Creeper is German and mysterious.

Kurt is German and mysterious.