#this is another one of those fics where I really just gotta...write out the whole thing

[justliketoreadsowhat]

Delusion Of Jealousy ꨄ

✰ this was a request from my Wattpad I abandoned, but I thought it’d be fitting since I’m still stuck on the leg sleeve physique ✰

oh!! and another thing, where the FICS AT?? I’m seeing a whole bunch of yapping and not enough strapping, no put intended ya’ll be killing me with the sm!ut. Where did all my good reads go?? I know the girls know how to WRITE. Either imma be fed with good literature or imma start feeding myself, that’s it that’s all.

ꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄ

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"𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈𝐓!" 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐞t 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝟏𝐯𝟏 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐮𝐩.

You were never the athletic type of person but when it comes to Paige begging you to participate in her antics, you can't ever deny her. If it made her happy, you'd be down to do whatever.

"Alright that's enough of taunting me, you're a professional! It's just the inevitable" you sighed watching her dribble the ball with ease toward your feet.

"Aw don't sound so defeated mama, you just gotta get your skill game right" she stated in a confident tone. Her face twisted up into a sly smirk. Those "skills" she yapped about were far too out of your reach, but not because you didn't learn them, Paige just had a horrible way of teaching you them, at least in your defense she did.

"Well maybeee if you had enough patience to properly teaching me these amazing skills, I could probably beat you-"

Your statement laced with attitude was halted as you felt the strong impact of a basketball hitting your back. Spinning around on your feet nearly losing your balance from the unexpected force, who was no other than KK.

"DID I SCARE YOU POOKIE?!" She laughed pulling you into a tight hug. You solo forget about the stinging sensation you felt on your back. You absolutely adored KK but in all honesty, who doesn't??? Her energy always remains unmatched and unhinged.

"Not really but you definitely got stronger during this offseason cause that hit was low-key a little strong" You pulled back from the hug tugging at her arms in amusement.

"Girl boo now you're just yapping" She put your hand in your face dramatically and turned to Paige who was unimpressed by the conversation. "Fix your face Bueckers you know you're happy to be in my presence" she beamed twirling her twists in her face. "Why y'all are in here anyways ? Looking all sour-faced?"

You giggle at KK's words "Nothing much, just another day of me getting beat in a matchup by yours truly" you shrug nudging Paige in her side.

"Don't let her fool you, girl, she just likes to win at everything- she's not THAT good" The strong empahsis in her tone made a light bulb go off in your head.

"Now why are going to sit here and lie??" Paige questioned laughing at the statement. The two of them hardly ever took each other seriously, especially when it came to competition. "Baby the proof is in the pudding! Let me teach your girl how to win the right way" KK dramatically pushed Paige to the sidelines, flcking her forehead before running off towards you in pursuit, praying she wouldn't run after her.

"Woww I'm gonna get trained by the infamous KK Arnold, I'm so exciteddd" she giggled patting her shoulder playfully. Paige glared at the two of you with an unamused expression plastered on her face.

Kk cackled at the sight "Okay so boom we're just gonna ignore the big bear being mad over there, let me show you how a real one does it" dribbling the ball in between her legs swiftly, taking a smooth step back from the 3 point line, shooting the ball with her right hand, it drains into the net with ease. "BOOM! short, sweet, and simple" she beamed looking back at you.

You grabbed the ball attempting to mimic her dribbling skills but failed miserably. "Yeah, we're gonna need a little more practice I fear.." you said trailing off into uncertainty.

ꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄ

For the next 30 minutes, you and KK practiced dribbling and shooting the ball like your lives depended on it. You had become too engrossed with learning these skills, you failed to realize Paige had left the gym for god knows how long.

"I think I'm top 5 in the rankings now KK" you breathed out, "I gotta go find Paige".

"OH I know you are, don't forget to mention me when you win that Emmy award" she winked at me holding back her laughter. "Have fun tryna find P boogers"

How unserious can one human possibly be? because you were 100% certain she fit all the criteria for it. Shaking your head at your antics you gathered your purse and keys, dropping the basketball back on the rack, and headed out into the seemingly cold hallways of the facility. You thought you'd find her in the training room chilling but to your surprise, she was nowhere to be found.

Sighing to yourself, you pulled out your phone

𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 "𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐞💜".......

"Oh! Are you done practicing with your partner for the final 4?  Done so soon?" her voice swarmed with annoyance.

"What happened to hello?, why are you being so rude about it we were all just having fun"  Confusion roamed throughout your mind, she never acted like this towards you.

The line went silent.

"Paige? hello?'

"We must have two different definitions of the term rude considering the fact that you didn't even care to notice that I left" her voice echoed from behind you. Swiftly turning around you saw her leaning in the doorway. Her cheeks flushed as if someone sliced the color out of them. She was livid.

"Paige it was all fun and gamessss" you whined hopelessly, "I was just preparing to get my payback for you beating me- "You stopped yourself mid-sentence as the awareness of her irritation wasn't irritation at all. "Aw P are you jealous??" you questioned as your face turned up into a smirk.

She kissed her teeth in annoyance "I'm not jealous y/n... be so fr right now" she scoffed.

"Yesss you are! There's no way you'd be upset over me trying to learn the sport that you love" you poked at her face laughing "You just want me to give you allll the attention hm?" cocking your head looking up at her, you knew you were right, but she'd never admit to it.

"Now you're just chatting" shaking her head in disbelief, playfully mushing your face.

"Your pride is too big for you to admit that your jealousy got the best of you babe, happens to the best of us I suppose"  Resting your head on her chest you smiling to yourself, you had her hooked. "Since you're so jealous I guess I'll go get Canes by myself, wouldn't wanna focus my attention on bringing someone else with me"

"Nah never that! I'm ready to go right now" she shot back at you as she lifted you up into her arms easily, a little too easy for your liking. You never understood how someone so small was able to lift weight like it's thin air.

"Mhm, that's what I thought" you emersed, softly kissing her temple.

ꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄ

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[perotovar]

limits — a minotaur!joel fic

pairing: minotaur!joel miller x m!oc/reader (unnamed and undescribed) rating: E (18+ mdni) word count: 2.2k content: au, porn with a little plot (but not really), monster fucking, joel is a literal bull-man, he doesn't speak but he understands humans, hentai logic/physics, don't think too hard about how this works physically, unprotected p in a, so much cum (like, a lot), breeding kink, aftercare, tiny bit of dubcon (if you squint), size kink, omegaverse dynamics/rules dividers: by @/saradika-graphics beta: @kedsandtubesocks (ily omg)

summary: so like, imagine a world where bulls evolved to be bi-pedal and can mate with humans, but it's not a common practice. don't think too hard about it, just imagine you're a new farm hand/stable boy and caught the attention of one of those bulls, okay?

written as a part of @quinnnfabrgay-writes and @hauntedhowlett 's Monster (S)mash challenge (so sorry for how late this is forgive meeee)

“Seein’ as it’s your first day, kid, I should warn ya,” the farmer started, resting an elbow on a bent knee, his foot resting on the fence in front of them. “This time’a year the bulls get a bit… restless.”

The young man blinked, cheeks heating up as he listened. “B-but aren’t they more focused on the cows?”

The farmer laughed, chewing on his tobacco as he watched the cows roam. “Well, sure, but they don’t seem to care much when they get like this. Just gotta put yer foot down and they’ll leave ya be, promise.”

The boy nodded and swallowed around a lump in his throat. He needed this job something fierce so a few horny bulls weren’t going to keep him from that. 

“Help me get that hay to the horses, wouldja?”

“Yes, sir.”

Wiping sweat from his brow, the young man smiled down at the work he’d accomplished. He looked to his left and saw the large bull pen. He’d been working on the farm as a hand for a little over a week now and had successfully avoided any unwanted attention so far.

He’d been learning all the animal’s names as well as their personalities and temperaments. Maggie was a lovely cow, a bit of a loner, but sweet as can be. Rex was easily the meanest of all the bulls, and he had to be taken away from the cows pretty often. 

But, Joel, well. He was easily the biggest of all the bulls. He was another loner, but in a distinctly different way than Maggie was. He stood at an imposing 9ft tall (horns not included) and had dark, curly fur that covered his whole body. His torso was barrel-shaped and as tough as any leather. 

The young man didn’t have much experience working with Joel, that was left to a select few employees on the ranch. Joel didn’t trust many people and whenever breeding season came around, he had to be taken to a secluded area. “Gets downright ravenous, that one,” the farmer had said. “Gotta cycle out the cows so they don’t get too tired.”

The boy had bit his lip in thought when he heard that. According to another hand on the farm, Joel had been the oldest of all the bulls and that was why he got the special treatment. He was the farmer’s favorite, but they didn’t understand why. He was grumpy and stubborn. 

The young man wasn’t surprised to hear that, to be honest. The older a bull got, the more ornery they were. That was just the way of things.

“Hey, kid, I’m gonna needja to take care of Joel’s pen for him.”

The young man looked up from his raking and shielded his eyes from the sun. “Oh. Are ya sure?”

“‘Course,” the farmer chuckled. “He’s out back gettin’ a bath, so he’ll need a clean pen to get back to.”

The boy nodded and gulped. “O’course, sir.” The farmer saluted in thanks before taking off to do his own chores. 

Exhaling a heavy breath, the young man grabbed a metal bucket, his rake, and some cleaning supplies before heading in the direction of Joel’s pen.

No one would have blamed him for thinking Joel’s pen would look like a tornado blew through, but he sure as hell wasn’t expecting this.

It was clear where a lot of the rut had been taking place, with a decently sized pile of hay in the corner, but the whole place… reeked. It was musky and heady and thick. The young man wished he’d grabbed some sort of face mask before entering. He’ll probably have to wash his clothes a few times to get the stink out.

“Fuck it,” he whispered to himself, and got to work. There was so much of… Joel everywhere. He hadn’t been around Joel enough to personally know him, but this felt like an invasion of privacy. It looked like any other pen, with a large metal sliding door and roof, but it was clear Joel had marked his territory so no other bull would be caught dead in there.

“Hey, newbie!” Lynn, another hand, greeted cheerfully. Behind her, a large, imposing (and freshly bathed) Joel entered the pen. His big barrel chest heaved heavy breaths, deep eyes locked onto the boy. “Thanks for takin’ care o’ Joel’s pen for ‘im. I’m gonna go find a nice girl for ‘im, I’ll be right back!” She was gone before the young man could respond.

Joel walked closer towards the pile of hay, large snout smelling if things were where they should be. He grunted in approval when he realized his smell was still there. 

The young man watched before putting away his cleaning supplies. He stood frozen to the spot, Joel’s intense eyes making it hard to turn his back and leave. 

“U-um, I’ll just–” The young man pointed his thumb in the direction of the door to leave, but Joel gripped onto his overalls, stopping him in his tracks. “What are you–?”

Joel lifted him high off his feet and planted the young man’s crotch onto his snout. 

“J-Joel! What are you doing?!” He screeched, cheeks burning in embarrassment. Joel ignored him and inhaled the scent deeply, before exhaling a low, very pleased groan. “I’m–! I’m not a cow, I’m not what you want!”

Joel froze and looked the young man deep in the eyes, challenging him. Who was he to know what Joel wanted?

“Um, p-please put me down?” The boy stammered. Just then, his cock stirred in his overalls, betraying him. A twinkle appeared in Joel’s large, dark eye.

Before he knew it, Joel had him bent over a bale of hay with his legs kicked apart. Joel towered over him with a massive paw of a hand keeping his chest pressed to the hay. 

“Joel, please,” he whimpered, his body trembling in fear and… perhaps arousal, he really wasn’t sure. 

Joel huffed in response, asking what he wanted.

“I don’t– Wouldn’t you prefer a cow over… over me?”

Joel grumbled above him and ripped his overalls down his legs, pressing his large, very hard and leaking cock against the young man’s ass. He rolled his strong hips and groaned in response. Joel’s belly rested on top of the young man’s lower back, so he felt every heavy breath he exhaled. 

“I-I guess that answers that question…” He sighed. He hid his face in his arms and whined weakly. “Fine, just… Just do it, okay?”

Joel didn’t need to be told twice. He leaned over the young man’s body and lifted his t-shirt, teasing his nipples. A large, thick tongue started probing at the young man’s earlobe, making him shiver in response.

“Oh,” he moaned, his own dick twitching to life between his legs. One of Joel’s large hands moved down to his ass to spread his cheeks and assess what he had to work with. Joel grunted appreciatively and started rubbing the boy’s hole in preparation.

A large glob of spit landed on the sensitive skin, easing the way for Joel’s thumb to pierce through. “Oh, fuck,” the boy gasped, his hips bucking involuntarily.

Joel hummed to himself and gripped his cock in his free hand. He started stroking it slowly before slapping the head against the young man’s cheek, giving him an idea of the size.

“Fuck, is… Is that thing gonna fit?”

Joel snorted before slowly pressing the head inside. It felt like the young man’s entire body was set on fire. He couldn’t feel his own legs beneath him, but he felt the pulsing of his cock throbbing between them. All the air left his lungs at once as Joel’s cock entered him further.

Joel stopped once a large thick ridge toward the base kissed the edge of the boy’s rim. He felt lightheaded, his eyes barely staying open as he adjusted to the full length of Joel’s cock.

“O-oh my god, I’m…” The young man trembled, voice pitched up an octave. “Am I dying?”

Joel made a low noise in his chest and leaned over to kiss and lick along the young man’s neck and ear. He was… comforting him, letting him take his time. Joel mooed quietly, almost like he was cooing words of praise to the boy. It made him feel like he could breathe again.

The young man rested his head on the bale of hay and tried to look back at Joel. “Okay, I’m… I think I’m okay,” he smiled sheepishly. “Go ahead, Joel.”

Before Joel started moving, one of his hands moved underneath them and covered the young man’s belly. He felt his cock through the skin, bulging through easily. He groaned in appreciation before adjusting his stance. The young man’s feet were hanging high off the floor of the pen like a ragdoll, his overalls still attached messily around his ankles.

Suddenly, as if someone had whistled for Joel to get started, he fucked hard and deep into the boy. The loud, almost comical sound of his heavy balls slapping against the young man’s tender flesh made him go dizzy. 

Joel gripped onto his narrow hips and set a punishing pace, rutting into him. He breathed heavily and grunted above the boy, sounding far away. 

The young man’s entire body moved back and forth against the hay bale, the scratchy feeling keeping him grounded as he ascended into another plane of existence. He had no idea being stretched so much and fucked so deep could feel so good. He didn’t want this to end. 

Just then, Joel decided he didn’t want that position anymore and lifted the young man into the air so his back was pressed to Joel’s barrel chest. The boy moaned loudly, resting his head on Joel’s broad shoulder.

Joel grunted and started using the boy’s body as if he were a fleshlight, lifting and lowering him at a punishing pace. The amount of precome leaking out of the boy’s hole and around Joel’s cock covered their bodies entirely. 

“I’m– I’m not going to last long, Joel,” the young man gasped, breath hitching with each powerful thrust. His eyes rolled back as Joel’s cock pummeled against his prostate, making him tremble weakly. The boy’s cock slapped lewdly against his lower stomach, precome splattering everywhere.

The boy’s stomach bulged with Joel’s cock, stretching the skin past its limits. He looked down to watch, mesmerized by the sight. How Joel’s cock fit inside him, he didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to question it.

Joel groaned deeply, picking up the pace of his thrusts. He must be getting close. 

“C’mon,” the young man whined, turning his head to look at Joel’s face. “Come inside me.”

Joel pushed him back down onto the bale of hay and pushed his cock even further inside. The ridge near the base of Joel’s cock made the boy gasp weakly, gripping onto the hay beneath to ground himself. 

Each smack of Joel’s hips against his ass had him letting out weak noises he didn’t even know he could make. Joel’s horns pierced into the hay as he rested his forehead against the boy’s back.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” the young man chanted. “C’mon, Joel, please,” he whimpered.

If he could see him, he was certain steam left Joel’s snout as he panted and grunted behind him. Joel made a low groan before slamming one last time against the boy’s prostate and came like a geyser inside him. 

The boy gasped as he was filled up, coming untouched as he felt Joel’s cock pump inside like a hose. He trembled beneath the bull’s body, screaming into the hay. 

Joel exhaled heavily, hands gripped onto the boy’s hips tightly. He moved them slightly and noticed that they’d probably bruise soon. He hummed and leaned over to kiss and lick along the young man’s neck again, this time as an apology. He slowly pulled out and watched as his come poured out lewdly.

The boy panted hard, his body feeling more empty than it ever had in his life. His stomach felt full, though, which made him look down to see. Joel had well and truly filled him, it seemed. He couldn’t stop the giggle from leaving his body, his cheeks heating up in embarrassment. 

Joel climbed onto the bale of hay with him and held the boy close, spooning him comfortingly. He turned the young man’s face and kissed and licked his tears away, mooing praises into his ear. The boy felt like his heart would burst from the tender act and silently cursed whoever called Joel grumpy and mean. 

“That was…” He giggled, breathing heavily. “I hope you got what you were looking for.”

Joel grunted in affirmation and held the boy close, one large hand holding his full belly. It dawned on him then that Joel probably thought that he’d just bred the boy. 

He didn’t have the heart to tell him it wouldn’t take.

“Sir, I had somethin’ to tell ya,” the boy said the next day, running up to the farmer with a bit more pep in his step. 

“What’s that, kid?” The farmer grinned, chewing more tobacco.

“Just wanted to let ya know that I think I cracked ol’ Joel. Think he likes me!”

“No kiddin’? Well, shit, I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth! If you’re thinkin’ he won’t mind, you’re welcome to take care o’ his pen for the rest of breedin’ season, then.”

The boy couldn’t stop the wide grin from growing on his face.

[hazbinshusk]

day twenty-five of salem's unofficial attempt at kinktober: aftercare (huskerdust x reader)

a/n: this is the official end of the kinktober fic series! I really hope you all enjoyed it, because I had a lot of fun writing it. A masterlist for the whole series will be out tomorrow for you to check out if you missed any :) thanks for reading!

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Husk’s fur is soft and so deliciously warm against your cheek, tickling at your bare skin. You snuggle into his chest lazily, humming contentedly as he wraps his arms around your waist, claws scratching lightly at the small of your back. You can feel the feathered end of his tail batting softly against your calf, and you groan, long and low, as you feel heat press up between your legs. A soft snicker sounds at your reaction.

“Feel good, sugar?”

“Mmm-hmm,” you nod, rubbing your cheek deeper into Husk’s chest fluff. You both feel and hear his chuckle, feel his lips brush against the top of your head. “Only you would have a towel warmer in your bathroom.”

You can see Angel grin through the mirror on his vanity, and he presses the towel more firmly up between your thighs, wiping cum gently from your flesh. You hear the muffled thump of the towel hitting the floor when he tosses it towards the open bathroom door. Another towel replaces it, the damp warmth immediately beginning to ease the pleasant ache out of you. The heat borders on a gentle burn, and Angel’s hand is cool in comparison as he smooths it down over the back of your thigh, gently encouraging you to squeeze your legs around the towel.

“Best way ta get stage make up off,” he says with a shrug and a small smile. “And cum outta fur. Jus’ an added benefit that it feels so damn good after Huskie here’s had ya bent in half for the better part of an hour. Ya welcome.”

Husk’s laugh is low, light and almost giddy, the vibrations of it bouncing you against his chest and sinking into your skin the same way the heat of the towel does. The bartender lifts an arm from your waist and holds it welcomingly out to your other partner. “C’mere, asshole.”

Angel giggles, and you feel the mattress sink slightly as Angel climbs onto it beside you. You shift over against Husk’s chest to make room for him, pouting childishly as it loosens Husk’s other arm from around your waist. You reach down and pull it back around you, nuzzling into his ribs. Husk snickers into the kiss he’s sharing with Angel, pulling away to bump his nose against your hair. A purr rumbles through him, vibrating against your chest.

“Fuck, ya adorable,” Angel says with an amused eye roll, tucking his head up against Husk’s shoulder. The bartender’s wing hooks around him gently, cradling him more securely against his side. “Seriously, I’d call ya a baby, but I jus’ saw everything ya just did to our sweet kitty and it made me blush.”

You scoff a quiet laugh, and Husk’s arm tightens around you, his claws tracing random shapes on your bare hip idly. “High praise from the pro.”

“Ya’d make a killin’ in the industry, dollface,” Angel teases, one hand combing through the fur of Husk’s chest, rearranging it into something a little neater. Another hand ghosts over the curve of your waist, and you reach up to take hold of it, intertwining your fingers. “Those pipes and filthy mouth ya got on ya could make the devil blush.”

Husk bumps his nose against Angel’s hair, brushing a kiss over his forehead. “Pretty sure they did. His room ain’t too far from here.”

“Oh my God…”  you groan, leaning forward and burying your face in the spot where Angel’s chest fluff is pressed against Husk’s. It tickles at your burning cheeks, muffling their laughter. “Shut up.”

“Aww, but I thought ya liked to hear the kitty purr,” Angel taunts, and his laughter doubles as Husk pinches him in your defence. “Ooh, if ya gonna hurt me, Huskie, ya gotta mean it.”

“Hush up, you.” Husk growls playfully, kissing Angel again. This one is slower, deeper, and you rest your cheek on your hand, watching the two of them with a small, happy smile. Husk’s ear twitches when your sigh tickles the edge of it. Husk withdraws slowly, pressing his lips back against Angel’s in a few more fleeting touches. The spider’s cheeks warm under his baby-soft fur despite himself at the raw affection. You lean forward to press a kiss to Angel’s shoulder, and Husk touches his lips to your temple as you do, the cold of his nose against your hair. “He’s right, though. Got a hell of a set of lungs there, sweetness.”

“Are you complaining?” you ask with a smirk, trailing a hand down his stomach teasingly. Husk jerks under your touch as your fingers graze the soft fur above his cock, choking on a breathless laugh at the sudden stimulation. He catches hold of your wrist, bringing your hand safely back up and pressing a kiss to your palm.

“Never.”

“Good,” you grin, kissing him. Husk groans lightly into it, teasing your still-swollen bottom lip with the rough line of his tongue. “”Cause you’re gonna have to gag me if you want to shut me up.”

“Ooh, now there’s an idea,” Angel hums, slinging a long leg over the two of you. He tucks himself more comfortably into Husk’s side, squeezing your hand. “I got a couple o’ different—”

“Slow down, baby,” Husk croons, letting his head fall back onto the pillow. You begin dusting soft, calming kisses to the bartender’s throat just as Angel reaches up to scratch fingers through the fur behind his ear, and Husk groans happily, eyes closing. “Let us catch our breath first. Not all of us have got your refractory time.”

“Spoil sport,” Angel pouts playfully. “’s okay, kitty. You sleep; me and our girl here can brainstorm on all the fun things we can do when you wake up.”

Husk hums in tired amusement, and you shiver as he tucks his arm up over your waist, claws spreading possessively over your stomach. He buries his nose in your hair and sighs contentedly. “Should I be worried.”

“Oh, definitely,” you grin, and Angel winks at you. “I saw some things in that Lust Ring catalogue Angel brought I really want to try out.”

[sordidmusings]

Switching Up Roles - Part 1/2 (Buggy x Reader)

A/N: So the request got insaaaaanely out of hand cuz I can't shut the fuck up about this stupid clown 🙃 In the future I gotta have requests ask for headcanons, full fic, or headcanons with drabbles in the future so I can put a cap on my brain lol I had also been wanting to write Switch!Buggy learning to embrace the sub part of himself. I wanted to get part of it out and the set up cuts off pretty cleanly here. There is a taste of smut in it, but it stays with the style of the exposition for the most part instead of really delving into it.

Word count: ~1760 (The draft is at 8100 rn 🧍🏻‍♀️)

Warnings: afab!reader (no pronouns), switch!reader, switch!Buggy, NSFW, p in v, creampie, they're like probably too into each other, Buggy leans towards opla Buggy, I have a propensity to just keep sentences going man

I hope you enjoy a taste and thank you for your patience 🙏🏻

Part 2

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

You’d always had a hunch about Buggy. It started with little things like how his grunts and moans would sometimes slip in and out of something more whiny and breathy. How the look in his eyes would turn from something rabid and devouring into something desperate and uncertain. Maybe he was just more comfortable using the whole range of his voice than most men. Maybe that look just came from the insecurity in him that you were constantly trying to wring out with every lingering hug and reassuring whisper.

Speaking of those, he drank them up like an addict. Now, it’s not like you think it’s abnormal to enjoy soft touches and sweet words; everyone wants those from their partner in one form or another. The thing is, Buggy seemed to hang on those words with extra ardor. He’d focus on you like nothing else existed. He’d twist and turn both himself and his comfort zone in order to receive them. Whenever he accomplished something, whether it was as big as defeating a new enemy or as small as making a new joke, he would turn his face to seek you out like a plant’s leaves reaching to feel the sun. He’d go to you whenever he was uncertain. Difficult announcements were made with you within arm’s reach, vital decisions were made with you sitting thigh to thigh, and battles were fought with the two of you back to back.

Despite his status as captain, Buggy was always following you. Of course, he was the one in charge, the one who gave orders, but you were the one for whom he would change those orders or redirect his path. When you entered a room, he was the one to go to you. It was only on rare occasions that he’d order you to him like an owner would a dog. His calls for you were greetings, that is if he wasn’t getting up to lead you in himself. Buggy did know how to demand but he preferred to handle you with invitations. 

Even so, you were well versed in Buggy leading you to touch or lay where and how he wanted. The extending months of your relationship have been filled with the two of you pushing and pulling at each other, empty of any thoughts and aims other than the need you had for each other. He has growled out commands and desires, expecting you to do just as he asked and he fit the role of manhandling you into a compliant sub very well. There were times when it seemed to be just that though - a role. Not every time; the more starved for your body he seemed, the more he’d take you just how he wanted. Now that you were months in and the pent up “what if”s were easing into the new joy of deep connection, his need for your body settled to hunger while his appetite for connecting to You became insatiable. Being able to allocate more time to exploring each other let latent behaviors break through the frantic way that you two tried to consume one another. Buggy had always aimed for your pleasure, hitting steady bullseyes, but now he was consciously seeking it and looking for new avenues to sate you and file them away for the future. He gained the clarity to observe while he was flooding himself with you.

You also noticed that with this change of pace came his need to chase your movements. You don’t think Buggy was even aware of the way he would lean his body towards you no matter the time or place, the way he would follow your lips whenever you pulled away, or the way his body would seek out your hands and happily mold to their movements like you were an artist working with clay. There was the way he seemed almost relieved when you would guide him. It appeared that he savored the time to unload the responsibility of decisions onto someone else but he had never known anyone he could trust to give him that peace before.

You understood that need. The rush you got when you only had to think of pleasing him and then hearing him tell you how good you were at doing just that? It was euphoria all on its own. It had you feeling like you knew in your core that you were doing something right and that you were making your love feel good - feel proud and happy. While you enjoyed partaking in it yourself, you had no problem taking control to give that to Buggy. Honestly it was a dynamic that was sounding tastier by the day. Seeing him act out of need for your direction and approval made you crave it more each time. You were eager to see him when he loses himself in the role of being what you want. You’re positive he’d take to it well; all you want is him after all, but now that he’s given pieces of himself to you, you want all of him. You want him to expose his needs to you, right down to the core of his desires, so that you could feel the thrill of holding that trust and vulnerability. You want to prove to him that he is always safe with you and that you can fulfill all that he wants and more.

One night a few weeks back, you got the final evidence you needed to feel confident labeling him as a switch like yourself. It was one of the few times Buggy was letting you ride him when he was close (he seemed to be embarrassed of the way it would pull out higher pitched moans from him, no matter how you complimented them), and he had let himself fall further into acting without thought than he usually would beneath you. His typical grapple with composure was replaced by him melting into bliss, leaving you a Buggy who was slack-jawed, glassy eyed, and trembling. You could still feel some hesitancy in the way he kept making his eyes focus on you even when they wanted to roll back or the way he would reign in his volume after a particularly (and deliciously) loud moan. His hands still went through the motions of guiding your hips, but this time your hips were pushing into that heavy grip instead of his hold directing the bounce and grind of your body on his.

Even though the feeling of his cock splitting you open and rubbing deliciously from your clenching entrance to the deepest stretch of your cunt left you struggling for thought, you were determined to keep an eye out for his tells that he would try to flip you back over. Whenever Buggy blinked some focus back into his eyes, you leaned down and captured his panting mouth in sloppy kisses. His eagerness to feel your swollen lips and teasing tongue made it easy to kiss his mind back into a blur. When he planted a hand down and sat himself up, you tightened your core to clench down on him and changed to the heavy grinds that made him weak with the way he could feel every hot, plush inch of you gripping him. He fell down to his elbow, but when you followed him to nibble at his ear and fill it with moans, he lost all his strength and collapsed back on the bed.

You kept at it because you needed to cum on top of him. The promise of a body shaking orgasm always came to you in the squeeze of your thighs around his waist, the grind of his pelvis on your clit, the way you could change your angle to have the head of his cock massaging whichever spot felt the most electric in the moment. It took hold of your mind with the way you got to look down on him spread out beneath you while he looked up at you with that desperate face. You could see how steeped he was in pleasure and need from his furrowed brow and shining eyes. Buggy always fell into the most beautiful, incoherent mess when you were the one leading him. His long blue hair spread out wildly, the few strands sticking to his face bringing out his pink flush. His gorgeous eyes, highlighted by stripes of blue makeup and long fluttering lashes, glistened up at you. His painted red mouth looked all the more tempting with how his kiss-wet lips parted for him to gasp in air and breathe out moans.

With little warning, Buggy sobbed out an overwhelmed, “Fuuu-hah-huuuuck,” and the next thing you knew strong hands yanked you down and he trapped you close in an iron grip. His forehead dug into your neck and his humid breath tingled down your chest. All you could feel, hear, smell was Buggy - so much burning skin, jumbled curses, lingering sea salt. His hands scrambled on your back, pulling you closer like he needed it to live, and amidst all the sensation you felt his cock pressed tight into you, twitching heavily with each wave of hot cum it pumped into you. It shoved you immediately far over the edge and you curled into him, squeezing and shaking and grabbing and gasping. You got what you were promised and your body shook, letting you get extra jolts of friction against his still pulsing cock.

The come down was slow and lethargic with the two of you molded to each other and unwilling to leave the moment behind. Your breaths eventually slowed while you both enjoy giving and receiving little trailing touches. Your brain was high from the intense orgasm and the building joy that you can finally open the door on this aspect of your relationship where Buggy lets himself submit.

That is, until he ruins it. 

Both of you were too tired to say much of anything through the swift cleanup and release to slumber. You didn’t think anything of it, because it wasn’t the first time it happened. You did start to catch on to Buggy’s avoidance when he would find convenient ways to dance around the topic or disappear when you were leading up to it. It became unquestionable when he started to run out of clever escape routes. The final straw was when you approached him with an “I wanna talk about the other night” and he did a 180 with a panicked “forgot some captain stuff for the thing” yelled back to you. So you let it drop. For a time.

You spotted your opportunity just over three weeks after you’d dropped the subject. Buggy continued to slip around you for almost two of those weeks, approaching you with the same caution a child would when entering a haunted house on a dare. He held the same nervous excitement and insatiable curiosity too. The whole time, you pretended that you hadn’t noticed. You were well practiced in the art of playing blind; Buggy wore his emotions on his sleeve whether he wanted to or not, and he loved that you would let him pretend some of it didn’t happen. Even though he knew you sometimes played it to your advantage and still let most of your comments and cackles out during his outbursts and foibles. He just paid you back for those with his own tricks and teasing and all’s fair in love and war.

You knew not to strike right away. You needed to reaaaaally let him settle back into normalcy between you two so that The Incident wasn’t on his mind. Not that you’d been able to get it out of yours; you were endlessly replaying the memory of him being seized by instinct and impulse so violently that he clung to you like he could never be close enough while you made him cum so hard that his dick felt like someone was jolting a toy inside you. Whether the imagery came to you on purpose or involuntarily, it always had you squirming and looking for some way to get off.

Today had been especially filled with that memory, but luck was on your side, finally ready to reward you for your patience. Buggy had been getting a bit exhausted recently, prepping the crew, the ship, and everything on it for a risky raid happening next week. It would be the culmination of a few months planning, and he had been running himself ragged making sure that everything would go smoothly. And, when it didn’t, there was a backup plan and at least two more backup plans for that one. 

He had been seeking rest from you more than interaction the past few days - falling asleep almost immediately after getting back to his room late, giving you long hugs where he’d close his eyes if only for a minute and let you hold up some of his weight, scarfing down his food so he could power nap with his head on your thigh while you finished your own meal. If he was doing something that only needed one hand, he’d send the other to you so he could have the comfort of your touch and the pick me up from feeling your occasional squeeze on it. He had to find and stop you the time you decided to massage his overworked hand, because the relaxing feeling had him zoning out through full conversations.

All that to say, the man clearly needed someone to force a break on him and take care of him. Just as clearly, Buggy was needing that care from you so much that he was allowing himself to seek you out in ways that he (wrongfully) feared would annoy or drain you. His exhaustion outweighing that sea-sized insecurity of his was the cue you’d been looking out for. If he really didn’t want to be submissive to you then that’s fine, but you’d be damned if it was just his own negative self-talk keeping the two of you from feeling that way again or from bonding even closer with another dynamic to exchange trust and affection. After all, that act of trust being met with affection is one of the best ways to chip away at his self-doubt and self-loathing.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

More to come - hope you enjoyed 🤍

[anyasathenaeum]

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A/N: I'm basing this off of this drabble I wrote as part of my 100 follower event, I really wanted to write a whole fic about it because Vash deserves to be taken care of and loved and lowkey told off for being reckless. Did I channel myself through this? Hell yeah I did. Enjoy friends!

Warnings: Explicit mentions of wounds, blood, violence

Word Count: 6.6K

"Well, this is definitely not how I expected today to go!"

You found yourself shouting to Vash over the sounds of yelling, blows and glass shattering, the two of you hiding behind the bar in the town saloon as several angry and drunk patrons decided to have an impromptu brawl, cornering the both of you with no way out.

The two of you had drifted into this quaint little town, looking forward to a couple days of peace and rest. You two had gotten a room at the local inn and decided to go for a drink in the saloon, and then next thing you both knew, you were hiding behind the bar during a fight. Several other patrons hid behind the bar alongside the two of you, all of them clearly afraid or trying to figure out a way out, too.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)!" Vash yelled back to you over the sounds of chaos, his expression sheepish, "I didn't think-"

"Don't worry about it!" You cut him off, flinching as glass shattered right above your head. The patrons were getting more and more reckless as they fought, clearly showing no thought to their surroundings.

You felt Vash's arm wrap around you as he tugged you closer to him, likely to shield you as he usually tried to do.

"We gotta get outta here! Before those idiots end up hurting themselves and us!" You exclaimed, glancing up at your best friend of many years as he looked around, clearly trying to figure out the best way to get out of this situation unscathed. Unfortunately, as a healer, escape strategies were not your forte.

"Alright," Vash replied after a couple moments, his expression resolute as he looked down at you with a nod, "On 3, follow me, and whatever you do, do NOT let go of my hand!"

All you could do was nod as you took his prosthetic hand in yours, clutching it tightly as you felt Vash squeeze your hand in return, as though confirming the plan with you one final time as you waited for his countdown.

"One..."

You felt your heartbeat in your ears as you prepared to sprint with Vash as fast as possible to get the two of you to safety.

"Two..."

The cries of the angry patrons were growing louder, all of them undoubtedly approaching the bar in midst of their fight, and you flinched again as another glass struck the bar near your head, a piece of broken glass flying free and striking your cheek.

"Three!"

Without a second of hesitation, Vash bolted forwards and away from the bar with your hand gripped tightly in his, the two of you sprinting as fast as you could to get to safety. You felt Vash tug your arm hard so you followed him, and you watched him flinch as a glass was thrown and suddenly struck the wall where his head had been merely a moment prior.

"Go, (Y/N)! Go!"

Vash quickly pushed you ahead of him, a yelp escaping you he promptly shoved you through an open saloon window. You tumbled to the ground rather ungracefully, groaning as you landed on your back, the wind getting knocked out of you. However, after a couple seconds of recovery, you realized that Vash hadn't followed you.

"Damn it!"

You cursed as you quickly scrambled to your feet, glancing through the window you had just been pushed out of only to see Vash trying to diffuse the situation and protect the other townsfolk.

"Come on, guys! Can't we figure this out in a way that doesn't involve violence?"

You watched Vash promptly dodge a glass bottle that was thrown at his head after that statement, his smile not even faltering for a moment.

"Now, now, that's not very nice!" You heard Vash say almost playfully, a soft chuckle coming out of him, "Come on, guys, you're scaring all the other nice folks. Why don't you guys go outside, talk it out, maybe drink some water?"

Vash's kindhearted suggestions were met with some choice rude words, angry hisses and yells of anger from the drunken patrons, who you could tell were beginning to turn on Vash rather than each other, now. You wanted to yell at him to shut up, to stop being so... so... good, and to get the hell out of there. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest frantically as you realize just how much danger Vash was putting himself in at that moment.

"Vash..." You found yourself whispering nervously under your breath, to nobody in particular, as your gaze remained glued to your best friend.

You suddenly lost sight of Vash from your window as he approached the drunken patrons, and a couple seconds later, you heard a yelp from Vash followed by a loud crashing sound. Then, the sound of several heavy blows and another loud crashing sound, as well as the sound of glass shattering. Your heart all but stopped in your chest as your mind began to go into overdrive, picturing all the things that might've been happening then and there. You were a literal second away from diving back into the saloon from the same window Vash shoved you out of when the saloon door slammed open and all the drunken patrons were promptly thrown out into the street.

As soon as you realized the instigators were no longer a threat, you sprinted back into the saloon, desperately looking around for your best friend and praying you would find him in once piece. Thankfully, to your relief, you saw Vash helping some of the other patrons who had been hiding behind the bar to their feet, smiling comfortingly at them all. Many of them thanked him profusely, some shaking his hand and others even patting his back or hugging him.

Out of nowhere, a bunch of emotions shot through you. Anger. Frustration. Fear. Despair. Relief. Happiness. You didn't know exactly what you were feeling, and you weren't given time to figure it out as Vash's gaze fell on you and his blue eyes widened behind his round, oversized yellow lenses.

"(Y/N)!"

Vash dashed over to where you were standing, and before you could so much as open your mouth, his arms were wrapping around you and he was pulling you into a tight hug, a clear sigh of relief escaping him. Your emotions continued to swirl within your chest as your face pressed against Vash's chest, your own arms coming up to wrap around him in return in a tight embrace - at least he was safe.

"Your cheek..." You heard Vash say gently, both his tone and the expression on his face worried as he looked down at you, his eyebrows furrowed and his hand coming up to gently touch your cheek.

As he touched it, you winced slightly as a stinging sensation suddenly registered - the piece of glass that struck you earlier must've cut you.

"Don't worry about me. It's no big deal, I can patch it up easily," You brushed Vash off, your eyes sweeping over him from head to toe, frantically searching him for any signs of injury from the skirmish, "Are you alright, though?"

"I'm right as rain!" Vash replied, chuckling sheepishly as his hand came up to rub the back of his neck.

You could suddenly feel the bottled up anger beginning to boil inside you as you glared at Vash, hissing under your breath at him, "What the hell were you thinking?! Y-You... you shove me out a window, and then you try to stop the fight yourself?! Vash, are you crazy?! You're so goddamned lucky you're not hurt, or I would've-"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Vash immediately held his hands up in surrender, his expression a mixture of sheepishness, guilt, and nervousness, "I didn't mean to shove you that hard. I just... I wanted you to be safe."

The way Vash's voice fell as he spoke those last words, becoming quiet and serious as he looked at you, let you know that he was being genuine in his apology. You couldn't help but feel your heart flutter in your chest at Vash's concern for you, and despite your irritation and worry for the man known at the Humanoid Typhoon, you couldn't bring yourself to stay mad at him. He held your heart entirely in the palms of his hands without even knowing it.

"You're way stronger than any human, Stampede. Be a little gentler next time you're shoving me out a window to safety, alright?" You grumbled instead, shooting Vash a look that immediately told him your words held no heat.

The smile that Vash gave you in response was borderline blinding, and you couldn't help but find yourself smiling, too. It wasn't your fault - Vash's smile was just extremely contagious.

"I really am sorry, (Y/N)," Vash said more quietly, so only you could hear him. He let out a heavy sigh as his fingertips just barely grazed over your injured cheek, and you could practically sense the guilt radiating off of him as he gazed at the cut on your face.

"It's okay, Vash," You replied, your voice soft as you took his hand into yours and moved it away from your face, "This wasn't your fault. Plus, I got lucky. A tiny cut on my cheek is within my healing skills to handle."

The grin you gave Vash at your joke made him chuckle softly, relieving him of some of the guilt he had sitting in his chest. He knew very well that you were a very capable healer, one who had spent many years studying how to help people with various illnesses and injuries and one who had patched him up more times than he could count. Yet, still, Vash couldn't help but worry for you a bit. He always worried for you. How could he not, when you were nothing short of everything to him?

"If you say so, O Wise Healer!" Vash responded, quickly regaining his goofy, outgoing persona and bowing to you in an exaggerated gesture that made you sigh in playful exasperation and nudge him hard.

"Yeah, yeah, enough of that, Stampede. You're embarrassing me in front of the townsfolk," You mumbled half-heartedly, your cheeks heating up as you tried to stifle a laugh, "We should get back to the inn. I need to clean this up."

You tap your cheek and wince at the gentle sting from the cut, and Vash immediately nodded before wrapping his arm around your shoulders, "Right! Let's go."

With that, the two of you set out, making your ways back to the inn where the two of you had been staying during your stay in town. However, as the two of you walked through the town roads, you began to notice, out of the corner of your eye, a tenseness in Vash's body as he walked. You could even make out a wince here or there when he moved his body in a specific way, and that confirmed your suspicion - Vash hadn't come out of the conflict unscathed.

"Where are you hurt?" You asked suddenly, your voice low and firm.

You watched as Vash's eyes widened as he looked at you, and as he opened his mouth to contradict you and brush off your concerns, you immediately cut him off, your anger bursting forward as you snapped, "Don't you dare say you're fine, Vash. I can see you wincing and you trying not to move your body specific ways. You only do that when you're injured."

Vash immediately closed his mouth, his lips pressing into a thin line and his blue eyes betraying the guilt and shame he was feeling at being discovered.

Knowing better than to butt heads with you, Vash simply gave in and whispered quietly, bowing his head and looking like a child having been caught causing mischief, "My right side. One of the patrons had a broken glass bottle, they caught me on the upswing. It doesn't feel too deep, but it'll likely still need stitches."

You felt your anger spike, but rather than yelling at Vash in the middle of some small town with a bunch of strangers watching you, you held your tongue and continued to walk towards the inn without so much as a word of acknowledgement. However, as you replayed the incident over and over again in your mind, the sounds of Vash's yelp and the blows and the screaming of the fight you couldn't witness echoing in your brain, anger gave way to fear. Complete, overwhelming fear.

'Vash could've died today and I wouldn't have known. I would've been too late,' You thought to yourself, your heart squeezing painfully in your chest as you forced the images your mind had conjured out as best you could. 'He could've died protecting others and I would've been unable to save him or help him.'

Like an endless hurricane, your fear drove your anger, which in turn worsened your fear of losing Vash someday because he was too selfless and believed he wasn't worthy of aid. Your mind became a storm, and you were completely lost to it as you and Vash walked back to the inn.

Vash felt himself beginning to sweat nervously as you walked silently by his side, not uttering so much as a single word about his injury. Usually, you would yell at him or scold him immediately, your face gaining colour as you told him off for being reckless and too self-sacrificing and thoughtless, etc. etc. as you worked on patching him up. But now... you hadn't spoken a single word, which absolutely terrified Vash. And scarier still, your face had become a mask of cool indifference, giving no insight as to your true feelings.

"(Y/N)... I'm really sorry," Vash spoke up softly, keeping pace with you as you both approached the inn, his heart sinking in his chest as you didn't even bother acknowledging his apology.

Instead, you continued walking silently until you got to your shared room, and once you were both in the room, you closed the door behind Vash, locked it, and went to your bag to fish out your healing kit.

"(Y/N)?..."

Vash's voice was quiet and filled with concern, although you couldn't tell if the concern was for you or for himself. You looked up at him, and your heart twisted at the sight of Vash looking a lot like a kicked puppy. His big, blue eyes were wide and filled with worry and pleading, as if begging you to say something to him, and despite his height, his shoulders slouched and made him seem... small. Vulnerable. It hurt your heart to see him looking like that, but you couldn't bring yourself to address it due to still-swirling storm of emotions in your mind.

"Move your shirt so I can get to your injury," You said, your voice level and betraying nothing of the emotional torment inside your head, not sparing Vash another glance as you began preparing your equipment to tend to his wound, setting things down on one of the bedside tables with practiced routine and precision.

Vash sighed heavily as he watched you prepare your healing equipment, and he winced as he shifted slowly to take his turtleneck off, wriggling out of it to allow you access to his wound as he sat on a chair, waiting for you to begin your work. He couldn't help but feel extremely guilty for not telling you upfront that he had been injured, and every second that you spent silent was a second that made Vash's heart hurt a little bit more.

You had been Vash's best friend for many years, and you knew and understood him better than anybody else. You understood how he operated, how he thought, how he acted and reacted, and you had accepted him without question, faults and all. You were always there by his side, through thick and thin, to comfort him and support him and yes, even patch him up from time to time. Well, maybe more often than just time to time. Despite it all, though, you never once gave up on him. The two of you had always been a team. But now...

'Maybe this is it,' Vash thought to himself mournfully, his heart aching in his chest, 'Maybe I've finally gone too far and pushed (Y/N) away, too.'

"This first part will hurt."

Your voice snapped Vash out of his self-loathing for a moment, and he gazed down at that neutral mask you kept on your face as you explained to him what you were going to do, your eyes trained on the wound on his torso. To his surprise, you had already mended your own cheek - when did you even do that?

"I'll inject a local anesthetic into your skin around the slash, and then I'll stitch it up properly. You shouldn't feel anything but pressure and slight tugging once the anesthetic kicks in."

Your voice didn't so much as wobble even once, and it scared Vash. He had seen you go into your "healing mode", as he affectionately referred to it, many times in the past, but it had never been directed at him. This cool indifference was terrifying to him, because for the first time in a long time, he had no way to gauge what you were thinking or feeling. You had shut him out completely.

And Vash hated it. He hated every second of it.

"Thank you for taking care of me, (Y/N)." Vash's voice was quiet, so quiet you almost didn't hear him as you began your work, injecting the anesthetic, "I don't deserve you."

However, instead of your usual "Shut up!" or "Don't say that!" or "Enough of that!" responses whenever he said something like that, Vash was met with complete silence. You didn't acknowledge his statement, instead laser-focused on adequately numbing him before starting the tricky act of stitching his wound.

Upon assessment, the slash wound wasn't deep, just as Vash had told you, but it was decently long and definitely required stitches. Once the anesthetic had a couple moments to set in, you poked Vash with a needle near the edge of the wound.

"Feel anything?"

Vash just shook his head, watching you carefully as you nodded in response, your face still a mask of complete neutrality.

"I'm going to start the stitches now. Stay as still as possible."

Vash took a deep breath and stilled himself as best as he could, allowing you to start your work. True to your word, he felt no pain as you patched him up, but rather pressure and tugging as you tied off stitch after stitch. Your work was done slowly, meticulously, but as your hands worked, your mind spiraled out of control.

'The self-sacrificing idiot won't ever stop. Why won't he stop?'

'How many times has he gotten hurt without telling me?'

'How many more times will I patch him up before he dies?'

'Will I lose him soon?'

'Why, Vash? Why?'

'Please, Vash, don't go. Don't go. Stop this, please...'

'Stay with me. Please, Vash. Stay.'

While your mind spiraled, Vash sat on the chair silently as you worked, lost in his own thoughts and emotions. He couldn't shake the deep-seated feeling of guilt for lying to you about him being alright, and although your mask of indifference gave him no indication of your current thoughts and feelings, you hadn't been able to hide a flash of hurt before your mask went up. Just that split second had been enough to make Vash feel like a knife had been driven into his chest. He had never wanted to hurt you. That was never his intention. He loved you far too much to even think of hurting you, and yet, he still had. He knew lying to you hadn't been a good idea, but he did it to buy you peace of mind, even if only for a moment.

But now... with you closed off and feeling so far away from him, Vash regretted it more than ever, the fear of losing you for good spreading like wildfire through him. He should've just told you and been upfront about being hurt. He owed you that much, especially given that you'd always stuck by his side and never once complained about patching him up, even though you always scolded him about getting hurt afterwards.

"(Y/N)?" Vash's voice was small and shaky as he spoke, and he took a deep breath as he tried to keep his emotions from running wild as he tried to reach out to you, to get past your mask once more, "(Y/N), listen, I-... I'm... I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. I should've told you that I was hurt immediately, I don't know why I didn't, I guess I just... I thought-"

Vash's words died on his lips the moment he looked down at your face, his eyes widening and his heart shattering at the sight of tears streaking silently down your face as you diligently continued your work. Your mask had disappeared and the fear, the anger and the sadness you felt were all on display for all to see. How long had you been crying for?

"(Y/N)..."

Vash's voice was gentle and filled with concern for you as he turned to look at you, his hands taking your own into his and holding them close to his chest. He could feel your hands shaking as he held them, and he knew that you were unable to continue your work right now, too shaken by everything to keep going. Sure enough, you seemed to realize this yourself as you pulled back from him and put down your tools on the table next to you before promptly dissolving into full-blown sobs, your hands coming up to cover your face.

"(Y/N)!"

Vash immediately shifted and kneeled down so he was level with you, pulling you into his arms without hesitation and holding you close to his bare chest as tears welled in his own eyes. His heart completely broke as you sobbed against him desperately, your cries so filled with pain that it physically hurt Vash to hear them.

Had you been feeling this pain the whole time you were stitching him up? No... there was no way this pain was from just today. You must've been feeling this way for a long, long time and just never told him, likely for the same reason he hadn't told you he was hurt - to spare him the worry.

"Oh, (Y/N)... I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry!"

Vash found himself beginning to sob with you, the guilt of being the reason for your pain becoming too overwhelming as he held you close. All he wanted to do was hold you in his arms and beg and plead for your forgiveness and apologize to you over and over again until you understood just how sorry he was. He did this to you. Your pain was his fault.

The moment Vash had said your name in that worried and gentle tone, all the walls you had put up to try and do your job came crashing down as you began to sob, your fear and anger and sadness overwhelming you completely. You had felt Vash's arms pulling you into his warm and comforting embrace, and you found yourself clutching onto him with desperate need, your fingers digging into his skin as you tried to calm yourself down by reassuring yourself that he was still there. Vash was still there, still alive, and you were patching him up.

But as soon as you heard Vash's tearful apology, that set you off in another round of broken sobs, burrowing into his embrace and just holding onto him as best as you could, wanting nothing more than to just stay there indefinitely, stay in this moment where both you and Vash were safe and alive together and nobody could hurt either of you.

Eventually, you managed to calm yourself enough to pull yourself back together into one piece and to finish your task of stitching Vash's wound, pulling away from him and wiping your face with your hands. Vash himself was still trembling as you pulled away, his face stained from his tears, his beautiful blue eyes reddened and swollen and still filled with pain.

He looked at you desperately as you pulled away, as if pleading with you not to let go of him just yet, and you sniffled pitifully in response, "I-I have to finish... stitching you up. I-I can't... leave you like this."

That alone made Vash dissolve into tears again - here you were, in the middle of a breakdown because of all the fear and anger and sadness he had caused you, and yet you pulled yourself together so you could continue to take care of him regardless of the pain you felt. Tears began to spill down his cheeks once more as you said that, and he looked down in shame as sobs escaped him.

Despite how much your heart hurt from the fear of potentially losing Vash, seeing him cry before you somehow hurt worse. You found yourself now being the one pulling him into your arms, running your fingers gently through his hair and letting your fingertips drag over his scalp to calm him as he wept into you.

"Shh... shh..." You whispered to Vash gently, your own voice still thick from your tears, "It's alright, Vash. I... I have to move fast, before the anesthetic wears off. Okay?"

As you pulled away, Vash restrained himself from clutching onto you, instead nodding and wiping his face as he sat back on the chair, allowing you to finish up your work despite his whole body trembling.

With a deep, calming breath, you centered yourself and separated yourself as best as you could from every emotion that was coursing through you. You left your emotions behind for as long as possible as you picked your needle and medical thread back up and continued your stitching, throwing a couple more stitches before finishing up. Then, you gently applied a healing balm to the newly-stitched wound and covered it with a dressing, applied with a gentle yet firm touch.

Once you were done, you shakily stood from where you were sat on the ground, brushing your hands off and packing up your healing kit and trying to figure out how you were going to explain yourself to Vash. Yet, when you turned to look at him, you found Vash hunched over as he sat in the chair, his face in his hands as he propped his arms up on his knees, his whole body still shaking. You could hear quiet sniffles and broken sobs escaping him, and it broke your heart all over again. It was clear the last thing he needed right now was an explanation.

Before you could stop yourself, you walked over and kneeled down in front of Vash, pulling him into your arms and hugging him close. Immediately, as if seeking out his lifeline, Vash reached out and clutched onto you, wanting nothing but to keep you in his arms for the rest of eternity.

"I'm so sorry, (Y/N), 'm sorry... 'm sorry, (Y/N)," Vash sobbed on repeat, and all you could do was squeeze him tightly and press a kiss to the side of his head as he sobbed against you.

You shushed him gently and continued running your fingers through his hair soothingly like you had done before.

"It's alright, Vash. It's alright. Don't apologize... I should be apologizing to you," You whispered to him gently, your emotions coming under control as you focused on supporting the man in your embrace. "I shut you out, and I'm sorry, Vash. I just... I didn't know what else to do."

Hearing you apologizing to him for doing the only thing you could to cope with your pain made Vash feel like somebody was tearing his heart from his chest and crushing it slowly. He fought to keep him emotions from spiraling completely out of control, instead letting out a soft whimper as he hugged you tighter, shaking his head.

"N-No... It's my fault. I should've told you. I should've told you I was hurt instead of hiding it, and I'm... I'm so sorry, (Y/N). I didn't want to make you cry. I didn't want to hurt you, I-... I never wanted to hurt you. It's all my fault."

Vash's voice was filled with despair and you could feel how genuine each and every word he said was, how desperately he wanted you to understand how sorry he was for what he had done and how much he wanted your forgiveness. How badly he wished he could repent for the damage he had done to you.

"I'm scared, Vash."

Your words began to spill forward as tears slipped down your cheeks once more. You pulled away from Vash, looking up at him with fear obvious in your eyes.

"I'm scared that one of these days, you're going to use yourself as a shield and get hurt badly and you won't tell me. And because of that, you'll die. I'm scared because every time I lose sight of you in a fight, I don't know if it's the last time I'll ever see you alive. I'm scared that I'm going to lose you because you were too good and too self-sacrificing and you wanted to save everybody and you wanted to grant me a moment of peace. Losing you isn't worth a second of peace because if I lose you, I'm going to lose the only thing in this world that matters and makes sense to me, Vash. If I lose you, I'm going to lose the one person who brings me happiness and peace. If I lose you... I'm going to lose my home."

Vash's eyes widened and his heart lurched in his chest as your feelings poured forward, and despite you not explicitly saying those three little words, he could feel them in every single sentiment you expressed. As if those three words were the only thing you were telling him, over and over again.

"I'm scared because every time I lose sight of you in a fight, I don't know if it's the last time I'll ever see you alive."

I love you.

"If I lose you, I'm going to lose the one person who brings me happiness and peace."

I love you.

"If I lose you... I'm going to lose my home."

I love you, Vash.

When Vash didn't answer you, you inhaled shakily and continued, sniffling and wiping your face as you tried to keep calm.

"I know there were innocent people involved, Vash. I know that. And I know you always want to save everybody. But... you count, Vash. When you get hurt, it counts, because despite what you think of yourself, you're innocent, too. And if you keep this up, eventually, you won't be around anymore to protect people. Your body, though extraordinary, can only take so much damage and I can only fix so much. I can't... I can't bear to think of what'll happen if I can't help you, Vash. I don't even want to imagine it."

By the time you finished your rambling, you were fully in tears again, despite your best efforts. Your hands kept wiping your cheeks, but to no avail, and your whole body was shaking as you sobbed softly. Even though you were crying, part of you felt better now that your fears were finally out in the open, no longer hidden or kept secret.

As you sat there, sobbing in front of him as you told Vash how afraid you were of losing him, his heart swelled and cracked in tandem for you. You worried for him. You were scared for him. Your pain came from the care and affection you held for him and him alone. A warm arm and a cool arm both wrapped around you and pulled you back in against a familiar, warm and firm chest, and you felt a gentle kiss being pressed to your forehead before Vash nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. Though his cheeks were still stained, his tears had stopped as he held you close once more, wanting to never let you go ever again.

"I love you, (Y/N)."

There they were. Those words he had never spoken aloud to anybody else in his entire existence. And yet, as he spoke them aloud, Vash knew that his words were never truer than they were in that moment. He loved you. More than anything else in this world, he loved you. You were everything to him, and the pain he felt when you wept in his arms was something he never wanted to feel ever again. He'd been shot, stabbed, burned and injured a million different ways, and he would take any of those a hundred times over seeing you cry because of him.

"I love you, (Y/N). I'm... I'm sorry I hurt you. I just... I didn't want you worrying about me. I figured that... if I didn't tell you, I was sparing you. I was protecting you from the pain you feel when somebody you care for gets hurt. But I didn't realize that in doing that, I was hurting you worse than I would've if I'd just told you. I promise that I'll try to be more careful, (Y/N), because I don't want to lose you, either. I promise I'll try for you."

His flesh-and-blood hand came up to cup the back of your head, gently stroking your hair as he spoke to you, his voice low and gentle as he explained his actions to you in return. You deserved to understand why he did what he did, and that he genuinely hadn't intended to hurt you.

Yet, not a single word he spoke really stuck in your brain as the words he spoke initially echoed loudly in your mind.

I love you, (Y/N).

He loved you. He loved you! Your heart sang in your chest at the revelation, and when you looked up at Vash's face, all sound in the world fell away, the only thing you could hear being the thrumming of your heartbeat in your ears. You took in every detail of his face; his beautiful and expressive blue eyes, swollen from his tears, his blonde hair, the mole under his left eye, the curve of his lips, his tear-stained cheeks, the furrowing of his eyebrows, the edge of his jaw, the slope of his nose, every tiny piece of him that you committed to memory.

"(Y/N)?"

"I love you, Vash."

You whispered it so softly that at first, Vash wasn't sure if he'd heard you right. But as you gazed at him, your eyes glistening, Vash realized he hadn't misheard you, his own eyes widening and his heart thundering in his chest.

Neither of you are sure which one of you leaned in first, or if both of you leaned in in tandem, but soon, soft lips pressed against your own in a gentle, tender and loving kiss, sending shivers down your back and making your heart feel ready to burst. You found your fingers burying themselves into Vash's hair as you pulled him closer to you, wishing to be as close to him as you possibly could be. You felt Vash's arms squeeze you a bit tighter, pressing you against him with a bit more force, making it clear that he, too, wanted you closer to him.

When the two of you broke away, both of your faces flushed and your hearts racing, you couldn't help but smile at Vash, who smiled back just as warmly and as lovingly. His hand came up to cup your cheek gently as he leaned down to kiss you again briefly before pulling away.

"I love you, Mayfly."

There was no hesitation in Vash's voice as he said it.

"I love you, too, Vash," You smiled up at him warmly, blushing at his use of a term of endearment before chuckling softly. "That being said, you seriously need to stop using yourself as a shield. If you ever get hurt again and don't tell me, I'll drag you somewhere safe and then wring your neck, Stampede. No matter how much I love you or how many other people are in danger. Understood?"

That drew a genuine laugh from Vash, who hugged you tightly to him once more and kissed your temple gently before letting his cheek rest against the top of your head.

"Of course. I'd expect no less from you, Mayfly."

"You'd better," You grumbled in response, burrowing further into his arms and sighing softly, allowing yourself to finally relax, letting go of the fear and the anger and sadness you had been feeling.

After a couple moments, you pulled away from Vash and stood up, which caused Vash to whine immediately at the loss of you and your embrace.

"(Y/NNNNN)..."

You couldn't help but giggle softly at the puppy dog eyes Vash was giving you, his pout making your heart flutter in your chest as you rolled your eyes at him playfully.

"Calm down, Stampede. I promise we can cuddle all night, okay? You need to get into bed first, though, so we don't reopen your wound or anything, okay?"

As soon as you mentioned cuddles, Vash perked up and smiled at you, making you laugh softly. You watched over him as he stood up from the chair he'd been sitting on while you'd stitched him up, and despite knowing he could do it on his own, you couldn't help but take Vash's arm in your own and support him as he moved to the bed and sat down slowly.

Vash winced slightly as he laid back on the bed, the stitches pulling and the wound aching, but as soon as his head hit the pillow, his exhaustion hit him. If it weren't for you puttering around the room, he likely already would've been fallen asleep.

"Hang on, love."

Your gentle voice reached Vash's ear and he watched sleepily as you took off his boots and put them down next to the bed.

"You don't need to-" Vash tried to argue quietly, only for you to shut him down immediately.

"You're exhausted, love. Just let me take care of you, okay?"

Vash's gaze was filled with warmth, affection and love as he smiled sleepily at you and mumbled in response, "You're too good for me, Mayfly. Thank you."

"Oh, shut up."

Ah, there was the you Vash knew well. He couldn't help but smile as his tiredness began to take over.

After a couple minutes, the room went dark as you turned out the lights and you slowly got into bed next to Vash, ensuring to lay next to his uninjured side. Your head rested on the same pillow, and you nuzzled your face into his neck as Vash slowly placed his arm around your waist and pulled you gently into him. You could feel his nose gently resting in your hair as he took a deep breath, inhaling your familiar scent and allowing your presence to comfort, calm and soothe him.

"We're not done talking about this. You know that, right, Vash?" You asked quietly, looking at the man you loved carefully.

Vash simply nodded and looked you in the eyes as he answered softly, "I know, Mayfly. We still have a lot to discuss. But for now, I'm just going to hold you. You're all I need in my life, (Y/N)."

And he was all you needed, too.

[xxsycamore]

👻🕸️🦇 IKEVAMP SUITORS IN A HORROR-MOVIE SETTING ! 🦇🕸️👻 (headcanons)

Happy Halloween! Yes, this includes all 17 suitors. I'm no expert on the genre but I thought this might be fun! Some of them die. I'm sorry. Warnings: everything that can appear in a horror movie really, including mentions of death, mass murder, blood, gore, torture, cults.

If you feel like reading something more goofy where everyone lives, try Pumpkin Carving Competition At Saint Germain’s Mansion or maybe even “Welcome to Saint Germain’s mansion, please have a fang-tastic night.” 

𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍

The "okay guys, we need a plan" guy and welp, he has a sword, he is willing to walk in front, why not trust him? 👍🏻✨He's totally the one to hide being infected because come on, how are they gonna get out of there alive if the leader is down? Has a dramatic scene where he's fighting off the transformation in secret. Ends up being saved by someone and survives.

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐎

Leonardo is the one you find along the journey, mistaking for an enemy at first as you get into his trap... when it actually turns out he's been there long before you, surviving all alone in this post-apocalyptic setting, adapted to it, prepared for every danger out there with gadgets he made himself! He might not stay alive until the end but plays a key role in the plot.

𝐌𝐎𝐙𝐀𝐑𝐓

He tried to warn them not to do anything stupid... He's now stuck suffering from the group's bad decision-making. He doesn't even know how he ended up there. Mozart is that one character that you're supposed to hate for being an asshole. At one point he falls in danger that specifically relates to a fear of his, and when everyone expects him to sacrifice another person to save himself, he does the opposite. He seemingly dies right there, breaking everyone's hearts, only to be revealed at the very end that he managed to survive!

𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐀𝐂 (credits for the idea goes to @scummy-writes guys she can write a whole fic of those I swear,, it's been such a pleasure listening to her)

Isaac needs to be saved five minutes into the movie... which writes him off as the weaker one from the get-go. This is going to be bad if the situation comes to "we gotta leave someone behind or we all die here!" - but hey, DON'T LEAVE ISAAC BEHIND IF YOU WANT TO SURVIVE! Because the next thing you know everyone falls into this deadly trap that only HE can figure the way out of, using his big brain skills. His worth has been proved! Everyone loves him now! And all he wants is to go back home and never go on a trip with these guys ever again!

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑

I'm sorry, Arthur dies first. The others are trying to warn him about the cases of victims who've been sucked to a dry husk and he's like "later virgins, i have a date tonight". Yeah his date totally killed him. Bonus points if we're dealing with vampires here, because irony. It's fine though, he's still important to the plot after he dies, because we find his writing diary and he left important cues there while trying to escape from his killer. Maybe he even came close to the truth! He knows his mystery genre stuff after all...

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐔𝐒

Theo just does NOT believe paranormal exists, not even after witnessing it with his own two eyes. Worst part, he tries to convince the others too. "My broer IS NOT POSSESSED!" Uhuh! Okay Theo! You just saw cryptic images appear on his canvas without him even moving the brush but I guess he was just trying a new painting technique!! And he levitates too and his eyes are tar black but what do we know... Once Theo realizes the situation, he's out there swinging a bat (sexy), ready to beat the shit out of whatever caused this, and he's good at it. Don't worry about him dying.

𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓

Poor baby Vincent is every sinister ghost/demon's number-one target. Vincent listens to the voices. He sympathizes with them! He makes friends with them! Maybe he doesn't even need to be possessed at this rate... Same story with joining a cult, honestly. When their bad intentions begin to come to light, Vincent puts up a fight and is suddenly not as easy to control as they thought.

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍

Jean might take some bullets from our main cast while someone shouts "IT WON'T DIE!" but it's fine he's used to it... he's been dead for quite some time and not just inside. Jean is probably the result of some sick experiment about making an immortal army of warriors and. It's sad. But it's fine because he joins the protagonists now! He's friend! I hope they apologize for calling him a monster. No, he doesn't die by the end of the movie, but at what cost?

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈

"Oh, it was just Dazai." Of course it was, someone has to be that one idiot that scares the shit out of everyone until he becomes the boy who cried wolf. Which usually ends with death! I'm sorry Dazai. At least they can take him seriously now and pay some more attention to the strange things he kept on saying.

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐄

A very old-school villain! Bonus points if the setting is modern yet he still has a villain's lair and all that. There's something beautiful and tragic about him and he probably dramatically lets himself be defeated even if he had a chance to escape. Everyone will remember him. Mostly for the mental and physical torture, but still.

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐓𝐄

"But we have one hour left until the curse kills us all, how are we gonna get there on time?!" *sounds of safari jeep pulling over* "Someone ordered a ride?" - yeah. Comte is here to save the day with the power of money friendship. And not just that! Who is the one who suddenly remembers a family heirloom that is as old as time and suspiciously shaped exactly like the key they're searching for? I also want him to lose an eye or a limb for some reason... just for a little touch of gore maybe?

𝐒𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐍

Gods, Sebastian is the only prepared one, bless him for that. He's read all about that urban legend while everyone's been busy denying its existence. He is not scared at all, too... you might wonder if he's just geeking out during all of this bloody mess or something. He's so important, please don't let him die please don't let him die... he died.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒

The villain's aide that infiltrates the protagonists' group. By the time his betrayal scene happens and he nearly kills three members of the group with a chainsaw, we get a glimpse of his trauma and that's the key to sucessfully talking him out of doing it, eventually disarming him and catching him. He manages to escape and maybe later returns as an ally! Yay!

𝐅𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐓

Gods he's scary. I'm not watching this. Of course he's the killer, what did you expect? Has a tragic backstory of being used by an even more fucked-up killer in the past to do the dirty work for - and kept doing it even after getting rid of them himself, because that's the only thing he knows how to do. You can't fix him.

𝐕𝐋𝐀𝐃

IT'S HIMMM he's the scary little boy from the photos and the same scary little boy that always shows up in the rose garden and his soul just won't rest in peace!! Shows up in his adult form plenty too, just expect his expression to twist into something horrible every second. He needs to be sealed forever somewhere and it would take three sequels to get to know what would actually defeat him once and for all.

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐄

... I'm sorry but there definitely is a lighthouse in this movie. And you can totally trust Drake! The poor guy's body just washed up for you to discover, tragically drowned-oh, wait no, he's breathing. He's totally not the same sailor who died around here many, many years ago. He's gonna keep you good company in the lighthouse alone for miles.

𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐎

Galileo is the one who saw the Thing™ with his own eyes, while he was watching the stars one night ages ago. He dedicated not only his massive research but also his life to this, yet noone believes him. If he somehow manages to find that one missing piece that connects everything together, he will die a horrifying death before he can even share it with the main cast. Rip...

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran    @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @keen19thcenturygoatsstudent @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 ​ @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @my-day6 Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[johnslittlespoon]

So, I've reread TAS about 6 times, maybe. With every read through, the story somehow gets better. Anyway, I gotta know: when Gale chooses the horror movie before their first kiss, did he do it with the intention of scaring John into his arms? I remember that cliché from media growing up. The guy choosing the scary movie so that he can wrap his arms around the pretty girl.

You write Gale really well, and he's doing the whole "we're taking this at your pace" thing. So I want to know if the scary movie was a calculated decision.

Also, thank you SO MUCH for writing this story; it is my current obsession.

okay gonna get into some TAS gale pov asks bc i have a few >:) but SIX TIMES???? i will literally never ever be able to wrap my head around anyone rereading my stuff, it’s so mind boggling and it makes me a little (a lot) teary wtf :’)) <33 that’s actually insane LMAO thank u this is so so sweet 😭💗 ok buckle in bc i had a lot to say oops

tbh i definitely had that cliche in mind while writing it, like as soon as i decided they’d be watching a horror movie, i knew they’d have the cliche ‘hold me i’m scared’ moment, because it would be a good way to ease into the first kiss. however i don’t think it was fully intentional on gale’s end, because really, i think gale would’ve been happy to sit through like a three hour documentary if that’s what john had wanted lol.

so i don’t think he was swaying john one way or another, but he definitely had zero complaints about having an excuse to hold john when he got scared ;) and obv at that point, gale’s not dumb (and john is not subtle lmfao), so gale was probably 99.9% certain john had feelings for him, and he was giving john every opportunity to do something about that, since gale was so stubborn about giving john space to figure things out for himself and make the first move. :)

another rereader i cryyyy <333 thank you, would also run thru a brick wall for u 😭💖 YES gale’s pov very much interests me, i’ve got a whole section for it in what i call my TAS masterdoc lmfaoo. i have a stupid amount of oneshot ideas now in his/other character’s povs that i’d love to get to at some point!

but also hey ouch thanks for hurting my heart <3 😭 i do feel like there were probably a few “oh no” moments for gale after meeting john, like the classic ‘i’m fucked’ realizations, and i think seeing him smile properly for the first time would be one of those. john’s so caught up in his own head half the time that he probably didn’t notice the way gale stopped breathing the first time he was on the receiving end of his sunshine smile :’)

i genuinely think gale’s internal monologue during that moment would just be ‘fuckfuckfuckfuck’ because really, what else can he do but fall head over heels? i’m sooo excited to dig into gale’s pov eventually, to get into how much he wrestled with himself and how he’d told himself never again after losing johnny, and then in walks this gangly, sweet, loud–mouthed college kid, and gale’s never been so happy to have his life turned upside down.

(john and gale actually do have a little bit of a conversation about this in ch11 because i couldn’t resist, but until that’s up, i leave you with the assurance that gale was smitten from day one and just trying to repress it for a multitude of reasons, but then the incident happened where gale saved him from the blind date, and it was all over from that moment on. the urge to protect john and to keep a smile on his face hasn’t left gale since that moment <3)

LOLL. definitely an admonishing “gaaaaale” moment. 

i’ve had so many questions in AO3 comments asking if i’ll write gale’s pov of the conversation he has with marge, and i 100% want to, it’s the first gale pov oneshot (aside from the smut i posted lol) i’m planning on writing for this fic. i’ll try to answer some of those other questions here just to keep them in one place:

i think marge definitely had her suspicions about gale’s feelings for john — she knows gale too well to not know when something’s up, but she also knows that gale comes to her about things on his own time, that she just has to be patient, it’s how he’s always been since they were kids. but there’s no way she wasn’t squinting at gale when she found out john had spent the weekend (multiple times) at his house.

the first time is one thing, because when gale explains that john had gotten wayyy too drunk and seemingly had some situation he didn’t want to go home to, she’d understand gale letting him crash at his. she sees how gale is with john at the beach after that, and it probably gets the wheels turning in her head, but she also knows gale to have a big heart and to be prone to taking strays in, so it could just be written off.

when she finds out that john’s been staying at gale’s every weekend after the incident with his mom, at the very least she had to have asked him who takes the couch just to watch gale squirm, which then confirmed her suspicions lol. after that it’s only a matter of time before gale spills it all to her, and her reaction will eventually be detailed in one of those gale pov oneshots :-) 

[aerequets]

I really liked the scene you drew for the fanfic Once more with feeling. Do you have other fanfics recommandations? PS. I love your art :3

thank you! :D and yes of course i do 😎 i have this list (twiyor) from a while ago but i have amassed more than enough new faves to make a new one!

i will try to get a mix of fics w/ different vibes, and different lengths, as well as those that you may not have heard of before. most if not all of them will be twiyor tho, bc that's what i read most.

i'll put them under the cut!

FUN FACT i spent like 45 mins writing a list and SOMEHOW DELETED IT ALL. so this is take 2 😭😭😭😭 ANYWAYS

The Woman in Red by @nightofnyx8

rated M, 7/7 chaps, 47.9k words

this fic feels like a book to me if i was already invested in the characters. it revolves around yor, who gets an assignment to find out where a bunch of trafficked girls are being kept by the asshole of the millenium, vito cohen. it is also post reveal, post relationship twiyor. this fic has dark moments just by virtue of the subject matter, but none of it feels gratuitous if that makes sense? like every bit of violence lends to the whole picture. there are also some Steamy ™ twiyor moments, which are easily skippable if that's not your thing, but their whole relationship here is just written so well. the trust is there and the protective loid vibes are 👌 i m m a c u l a t e

Smoldering by @julphines

rated G, 1/1 chaps, 2.1k words

i freaking love the look into post reveal, pre relationship twiyor we get here. it's not overtly romantic but instead them getting to know each other. i especially love the details of them having to make themselves be vulnerable in some ways because they just aren't used to it. a really nice, in-between sort of fic :)

In Love With the Distance by Newt on ao3

rated T, 37/37 chaps, 21.5k words

this one is formatted as a collection of letters and i am OBSESSED. i think the author does a very good job getting the character voices down, and the fact that the progression in their relationship is clear despite being in this letter format will never cease to amaze me. it's also incredibly consistent and has cute 'ciphers' at the top that are used to disguise the letters. this one is also post reveal, and kinda follows what happens immediately after. some bits are outside the letter format, but for the most part, it's loid and yor writing to each other. love

La Vie En Rose by @jubileen

rated T, 1/1 chaps, 3.7k words

i love me a good ol 5+1 fic, and this one did not disappoint 😌 i especially liked how the thing that is being counted here (you know, the "five times x and one time x") is not explicitly stated each time. it's something that is as slowly revealed to the reader as it is to the characters, which is a nice touch. and there are more things you catch after a reread, which i am also a great fan of!

An Ever Fixed Mark by Spiraling (Stormwind13) on ao3

rated T, 3/3 chaps, 3.8k words

soulmates that share wounds!!!!!! need i say more?? ALSO, there's some GORJUS artwork in this fic! actually, the first "chapter" is just the cover page, and then in the third chapter is another illustration which is so well done! so that's a plus :) this fic has the nice ol heartwrenching mix of backstory and present for the characters, another plus!

this fic is restricted tho, so u gotta be logged into ao3 to read it 🙏

Love, He was Certain by toteally on ao3

rated M, 1/1 chaps, 3.2k words

this one is so funny and good to me bc loid goes head empty seeing fruit juice dribble down yor's chin KJFDHSJ i love when overthinking characters suddenly can't form a thought at the most mundane of happenings. ALSO the thing fics/books do when the title comes up and you're like OHHHH THERE IT IS!!! yeah that as well

Macabre Theme and Variations by @piracytheorist

rated T, 15/15 chaps, 66.6k words (lol)

WOOOO TIME LOOP FIC! yet another thing that i am a fan of :DD although HEED THE WARNING because there IS violence but there is also a happy ending. this fic follows twilight as he goes through the same day over and over again and tries not to die a horrific death forever. mans gets more trauma, BUT he also gets character progression and a happy ending so fair trade off right 🤔 (yes. the answer is yes)

anyways, this list is hardly even the tip of the iceberg. there's also my bookmarks which, at the time of writing this post, are at 354... most of which are sxf/twiyor.... so yeah LMAO obviously i couldnt put all of them into this post but definitely check those out. i've also got my own works if you're interested but hopefully this list contains fics you have not yet read, and that you will like 🙏🙏

(if your fic is on this list and you haven't been tagged + would like to be, pls let me know!)

[alacants]

User alacants where are your beautiful fics? 🥺

anon would you believe that in my two weeks of vacation i didn't have a SINGLE DAY to write. and now i am back at work. 😔

i am still likely to finish one promptfest fill before the end of the week and if i get lucky (really... really... lucky...) i'll manage a second. in the meantime here is the opening of the non-promptfest wip.

Carlos didn't even realize it was a big deal, at the time. They were joking, so what? That was what they did. Carlos got bored or he got fidgety or he had too much energy and it needed to go somewhere, and the somewhere was usually Juanki. Bumping his shoulder, batting at his cap, moving his stuff around, whatever was closest to hand when the restlessness hit. And, yeah, of course he talked through it, had a little running commentary going. Gotta keep Juanki on his toes. Yap yap yap, Juanjo mimicked once, imitating one of those little purse dogs. Biggest shih tzu I've ever seen. So it was just another round of the usual, right? Playing around, roughhousing, until Juanki said Anyone this good at getting at under my skin must be able to read my mind, and Carlos said Are you kidding? Tio, I never know what you're thinking. And he'd swear, he'd swear that everyone laughed and then they broke it up. The whole team ate in the academy canteen, even Juanki, which didn't happen often. Carlos went back to his room early and dicked around on Instagram for a while, did some texting. And then he went to bed. And then he woke up.

*

By his third stab at the call button, Carlos is cursing aloud, pacing a circle around his bedroom. Ferru isn't picking up, why isn't he picking up—

Click. Carlos sucks in a massive breath of relief. Over the line: "Carlitos?" 

Ferru sounds groggy, which is crazy since it's already 8 a.m. You really do let go after retirement, huh. That's not the point. The words tumble out of him. "Ferru, hi, can you—it's Juanki. It's—" And then he stops, because what the hell is he going to say. 

"Juan Carlos?" No more groggy, this is a four-alarm fire. "Is he hurt? Are you okay? Where are you?"

"No, no, sorry, he's—" Carlos can't say fine. "He's not hurt. We're both safe. We're at the Academy. I just—can you—I really need help."

"Help." Ferru sounds a little less like a one-man emergency response vehicle but he's still alert, urgent. "Carlos, what's going on?" 

Carlos scrubs a hand over his face. "Can you, um. Can we switch to video?" 

Ferru's hair is sticking up at a 90 degree angle, jaw unshaven. He's squinting at the viewfinder, blinking in the bright sunlight. He's not wearing a shirt and he's in great shape for a retiree, which is something Carlos has noticed before—Ferru's old enough to be his dad and also not even close to his type, but it's not like he's blind or anything. Once again: not the point. Without a word, Carlos flips his phone around. 

Sitting at Carlos' desk, kicking his feet where they dangle well above the floor, maybe five years old, tops. A little cherub with white-blond hair and delicate features, the kind of child that stops Carlos' mother dead in the street.

Carlos clears his throat. "Juanki."

The kid looks up. Catches sight of the screen and immediately lights up, brightening all over his unbelievably photogenic face. "Is that David?" He waves eagerly at the camera. "Hi, David!" 

Carlos flips the phone back around. Ferru looks like he's just seen a ghost. 

Carlos says, "So, uh."

"Hold tight," Ferru says. "I'll be there in thirty minutes."

[obsidianpen]

Okay I’ve been thinking: so I love to read both tomarry and tomione ff but reading tomarry i really need to be in the right mindspace because it‘s usually such a massive power imbalance and it‘s difficult to read about someone essentially being at the mercy of another person 24/7.

And so I was thinking why it is that when I‘m feeling bad, tomione is my comfort pairing and I think it‘s because it‘s the only popular tom riddle pairing where tom‘s counterpart is equal to him in a way that is believable.

I also think this is why tom falling in love with hermione / becoming obsessed with her makes so much sense! Hermione actually has the wit and skill to outsmart him at times and this might just be me, but from the books I also always got the impression she was a little wilder and more unhinged than harry and that‘s gotta be sooooo hot to tom. She is obviously sexy killer lady he an duel witj but I think what makes her most appealing to him is the fact that she is something new

I can’t speak for tomarry as a whole, I can only really speak about my fics here - but as far as my writing with those two pairings go, the unequal power imbalance has a lot more to do with the overall plot than it does hermione vs Harry. In NG, of course there is a huge power imbalance. It’s a Voldemort wins AU (it’s also definitely harrymort, not tomarry, but that’s another whole thing). If/when I get back to fics like Lightning or Incendiary, that will chance, and they’ll be on much more level footing.

I bet there are many fics out there that feature a Harry and Tom who are of a similar age, who are similarly competent and give each a run for the others money in a way that many Tom and hermione stories do. There’s just probably not as many fics where Voldemort is as obsessed and unhinged in his wanting to utterly posses hermione in a way that would lend itself to a massive power imbalance in the first place because… she’s hermione. She’s canonically got nothing going on that would make Voldemort care about her - she’s a muggleborn and she’s NOT his horcrux and she’s not his prophesized enemy etc etc, so authors really have to set up a whole situation to make the pairing believable. Which I assume usually tends to be stories where hermione intentionally does something extraordinary to catch his eye, often the eye of a young and hot Tom riddle, meaning, you know. Less power imbalance. Sorry this isn’t the rant your wanted but it’s the one you got 😅

[the-bloody-sadist]

Can I ask your top 10 fav fics ever (from any fandom, if you don't mind)?

Also, just curious, is there a story behind your name "the bloody sadist"?

YOU FUCKING BET!!!! I love having the opportunity to list my favorites for anything, though I'm also incredibly picky about fanfics, so I don't actually know (until I start scrolling my bookmarks and listing them) if I'll reach a whole 10 favorites!! But I might! (Note: these are in no particular order)

What I Want From You is Sweet by VampireFaun (Heaven Official's Blessing) [And basically every other work that she's written! But some of my other top favorites of hers are The Thing That Was Not His Highness and Beast With Two Backs]: When I can't get a fanfic out of my head, I usually end up drawing an illustration based on it, if I'm bold enough to risk depicting an author's precious words (rare). This is my MOST re-read fic and I won't ever stop. It doesn't help that VampireFaun/Deer is a WONDERFUL PERSON and I love her personality so much. She's an incredible writer!

Tenfold by dgalerab (Bungou Stray Dogs) : Baby's first fic! This was one of the writings that immediately roped me into the fanfic world. When I first was into it, I was under the impression that everyone just went there to write half-assed explorations of sex between characters, and that wasn't so appealing to me. When I discovered that some people can write entire 25-chapter PLOTS with the level of literacy that matches what I hoped to read??? I was hooked. Obviously you can see in this list that I have strong devotion to a handful of fic writers and my favorites are just the top best fics that I return to of their writing. If I find a great writer, I subscribe to them and go on a rampage of consumption through their list of fics, my fandom or not! Please consider doing the same for those authors that I mention like that!! You'll find so much gold. Everything by dgalerab is good in some way, I have almost all of their fics bookmarked. :') My only complaint about this particular story was that HOLY FUCK THE AUTHOR CUT SO MANY SCENES WAY TOO SHORT LMAO. Please let me have a full comfort scene for more than two paragraphs T_T I worked so hard for it. I cried so much. ANYWAY, STILL A HUGE INSPIRATION FOR WHAT I WENT ON TO WRITE!

What You Have Tamed by Parsnipit (Heaven Official's Blessing)

Love is Hard, Life Sucks by gev_ao3 (Bungou Stray Dogs) : A painful inspection of the nuances of domestic abuse. This one rang true to reality so much that I don't think I can re-read it without having a depressive episode. It's not finished, but it's Fyozai, and you know how I feel about that. Also side-plot SKK! I usually can't stand AUs, but this one fits the situations very well. It's the type of fic that only someone who knows a little too much about how abuse works on a victim can write.

Careful Fear and Dead Devotion by intimatopia (Trigun Stampede) : Yet another fic that I couldn't help but draw for! And intimatopia was kind enough to link it in his fic summary T_T - A super angsty sadomasochistic fic about Vash needing pain and Wolfwood needing to give it. If I don't list any other fics by him on here, it's because I'm such a huge enjoyer of his writing (one of my favorite fic authors), so nearly all of them that don't hit on personal triggers are in my favorites category. He's a master at pinning down the PERFECT depictions of characters that make them feel as canon as possible while also becoming more tangible and real. The ZhongXiao, AyaThoma and Kaeluc fics are incredible. Read them all! However, I will mention that one of his fics that first stuck with me was his Kaeluc AU Northbound & Reaching ! Carys has done a lot of BSD fics too, of which a few stick out to me like They Say You Gotta Fake It and that one Soul Eater AU he did where Dazai was a knife in Chuuya's drawer who gained a body. I DON'T KNOW WHERE IT WENT CUZ I CAN'T FIND IT TO LINK YOU BUT GO LOOK THROUGH ALL HIS FICS FOR IT. IT'S REALLY UNIQUE.

Top 5 works, I guess?? As I mentioned several times while gushing, three of these account for entire lists of the author's works that you should enjoy if we share the same taste! VampireFaun, dgalerab, and intimatopia are my top fic authors, and I've read everything they've posted as long as it didn't contain anything personally triggering - and have learned about new fandoms even! Also, Alaruya didn't make it on this list, but they have a Fyozai fic that really inspired me with its imagery and language. I link it in my Sinner fanfic if you're interested!

I have quite a few other random fics I enjoy, but most were from a Heaven Official's Blessing craze recently and then BSD works that inspired me in some way, but they're not very unique or long, so I felt like this was the best collection to list. Most any fic that explores Dazai struggling with self-harm or neediness or asexuality has my attention. It just has to be written well!

AS FAR AS MY NAME - YOU'RE THE FIRST TO ASK THAT QUESTION! I'm a big fan of...how to explain...slightly dehumanizing titles?? Something that isn't really a name, but a description of me in some way. Something that makes me feel mysterious and yet also gives everyone who reads it an idea of the type of works I'm creating. Of course, my main personality trait is being sadistic, and I love the word sadist, and I love putting THE in front of literally any title because I DON'T KNOW LMAO...I'm THE ONE. That kinda thing. I'M THE GUY!! YEAH I'M THE BLOODY SADIST GUY! THAT ONE! I also love smashing words together, so I was like, I can't just be THE sadist....what else do I like....and that's about it. If I name myself I tend to have trouble ever using anything else in reference to me, so Sadist has stuck from the very beginning. It's going to be very hard to part with that name once I publish a novel and have to use a first and last name...

THANKS FOR THE ASK!! I HOPE YOU ENOY THOSE RECS.

[reki-of-the-valley]

Summer Time (Family) Madness

lmao it's been like 6 months since the last time the last revision. And like 2 and a half years since the end of this fic. But alas. At least I'm still working on the revisions. So here's an updated chapter 6!

First | < Previous | Chapter 6 | Next >

AO3 | Original Chapter 1  | Original Chapter 2 | Original Chapter 3 | Original Chapter 4 | Original Chapter 5 | Original Chapter 6

It wasn’t uncommon to find Langa hidden under the counter at DopeSketch. Normally, it was to avoid having to interact with any of the customers; Reki was just naturally so much better at the whole customer service part of their shared retail job. Now, however, Langa found himself more often than not with a book on his lap as he sat cross-legged on the floor. Now, he spent his shifts groaning about the homework that was assigned on summer break of all times. 

Thankfully though, DopeSketch really wasn’t the busiest shop in town. Langa could get away with his time wasted watching videos instead of reading his novel, or all his lost minutes staring at the same math equation. Barely anyone entered the little shop, and those who did never stuck around for more than a few minutes, browsing the few shelves of skateboarding equipment. So, during the shifts where Langa remained cooped up in the small shop, watching the sun beat down on the smiling people in the streets, he got to do homework. If he had to explain to someone what he was being paid to do, the most honest answer he could muster was that his paycheck covered the cost of someone playing the role of a babysitter for a store that most definitely would not up and run away. Or maybe he was being paid to keep his grades up since he had nothing better to do than work on his assignments.

It was a miracle Oka still gave him shared shifts with Reki. It didn’t take a genius to know that employing two best friends was not the ideal recipe for productivity, but maybe the man knew how lonely it could get in the shop. Maybe that was why he let the boys keep each other company during their long shifts. And that was what they did; even if they silently did their own separate thing, at least they had each other. As long as they were together, everything would be okay. As long as they had one another, the day wouldn’t feel eternal. And sometimes, a calm and silent afternoon was exactly what they needed. 

Langa groaned as he leaned back against the counter, tipping his head back in annoyance. He had tried, he had really tried to get a head start on his summer schoolwork. He had really tried to power through his assigned readings as fast of possible. He had tried to get it over with as soon as possible, but that determination was too good to be true. When it came to actually doing it, it proved itself much harder than anticipated. And Langa hadn’t been proud to admit that his reading skills could almost rival his handwriting. 

“I don’t get it.” His eyes fell shut as another sign fell from his lips. “Why do we need literature? What’s the use of old books no one cares about? Even in English, I sucked at it. I just…” The world reappeared before him, brighter than he remembered it to be just a few seconds ago. “I don’t get it! And I just don’t care!” 

A pen was clicked a few times as Reki hummed to himself. He must have been sketching in the margins of his notebook instead of doing the math problems he had said he would be doing. He had to have been; the pen strokes were far too methodical and repetitive to be that of writing. 

“I don’t know, man. Something about culture and it’s important we know about our past.” A smile broke across Langa’s face as he peeked out from under the counter just as Reki surrounded the last part of his statement with air quotes. “But I can help you if you want. But in exchange,” red hair fell to the side as Reki leaned over to get a better view of Langa, “you gotta explain to me our next English project. ‘Cause like, that man talks way too fast for me to catch a single thing he says. I’m pretty sure I understand those American sitcoms better than him, and I never know what’s happening in those.” 

Langa chuckled as he agreed on their deal. Reki would be helped with some English homework and Langa wouldn’t fail yet another written assignment; this friendship definitely had its perks beyond the whole having a friend thing. And it wasn’t even like Reki was exaggerating about their English teacher; the man really did speak way too fast. It also did not help that he had the heaviest accent Langa had ever come across, occasionally slurring his words and making it hard for even Langa to perfectly understand what was being said. But at least he had the advantage of being completely fluent, even if his grades didn’t always reflect that, which meant he could rely on the instruction sheet rather than the verbal expectations. 

Silence reigned once more in the little shop, both boys having returned to their individual activities. Quiet, methodical pen strokes echoed against the walls; the sound of rustling pages made its place in the song being composed in the little skateboard shop. It was quiet and relaxing, peaceful even. 

Langa had come to appreciate watching Reki work his crafts, be it doodling in the margins of his notebooks or his repetitive shaving of a board. Whether he knew it or not, he made the funniest faces as he concentrated on his work. Sometimes he would furrow his brow, leaning closer to the paper before straightening out to continue adding endless details to his drawing. Other times, he would stick his tongue out as if that was what helped keep focus on his work. And once he completed something he was particularly proud of, his eyes would glow with pride as he held his piece up to the light. That was the face Langa liked the most; it was the face of someone who was proud of themselves, and Reki deserved most of all to be proud of himself. He deserved to be proud of himself, to see himself the way Langa saw him. None of that frustration that would often overcome him as he would huff and rip the page out of his sketchbook or notebook. No more crumpling and tossing of masterpieces he simply could not see. If it were up to Langa, none of that would ever happen again, but for now, he would content himself in collecting Reki’s trashed art. Even if they weren’t up to Reki’s standards, they would always be works of art to Langa. 

Langa loved watching Reki draw. It was quiet and tranquil, a moment where Reki wasn’t bouncing around, talking with his hands, words stumbling over themselves as he went on and on. And as much as Langa loved Reki’s endless energy, he also deeply appreciated the calm moments they would share. But as with everything else, good moments must come to an end, the door chiming as a customer walked in. 

“Welcome to Dope— Oh, hey Emily!”

Langa perked up at the name. Emily? Why was she here of all places? Langa had purposely avoided telling her where he worked in hopes of getting away from her. Dope Sketch had been the only place Langa could go to escape the teasing remarks and those eyes that stared straight into his soul. It was the one place where he felt safe from her badgering questions about his oh-so-obvious crush on Reki. Work had somehow become his little slice of quiet heaven, and now that bubble had burst. Now, she had found him and his hiding spot. 

Reluctantly, Langa pushed himself off the ground only to smash his head against the counter and crash back down. He held the top of his head as she let out a whiney cry of pain. 

“Dude! Langa!” Amber eyes fell onto him, eyes filled with worry and shock. “What’s up with you and hitting your head lately?”

If Langa had known the answer, he would have told Reki. Or maybe he wouldn’t have. Maybe it was all those distractions, distractions disguised as the people hovering around him. Maybe it was Reki and just how absolutely distracting he was, be it while he would sketch, his face will with concentration, or when he would kneel next to Langa, his beautiful eyes still wide and filled with worry.

Between Reki and Langa, there was no doubt that Reki was the more accident-prone one. He was the one constantly sporting bandages for his sprained ankles and wrists. He was the one scraping his knees after wiping out from trying another new trick he had found on the Internet. He was always the one laughing as he fell on his ass, his board flying from under his feet. Reki was so much more the accident-prone one, at least when it came to skating. When it came to their daily lives, Langa was starting to believe he was the clumsy one, if the last two weeks were any indication. He was the one tripping over his untied shoelaces, eating pavement as Reki choked on his laughter. He was the one splitting his eyebrow open on a window frame in the dead of the night. He was the one smashing his head against the counter instead of greeting his cousin.

“Is he… Is he alright?”

Emily’s head poked from above the counter, her hair a curtain for the nook under the counter. She must have climbed onto the counter to see what mishap was happening away from her prying eyes. And given the frown that pulled at the corners of her mouth, she mustn’t have been proud of clumsy Langa.

A flood of memories washed through Langa at the sight. It wasn’t the first time she had looked down at him like this. Somewhere, somewhere long lost to the fog of memory, this exact situation had happened. But somewhere in those memories, there had also been smiles. A flash of a faceless childish grin. A flash of a girl hanging above his head. A flash of blond hair blocking the sun. Some distant chatter. A storybook. A treehouse. Grass. Laughter. Summer.

Reki pulled Langa from the floor, pulling him out of his impromptus trip down memory lane. He looped his arm around Langa’s waist, holding him tightly as if he were afraid that Langa would drop back down to the ground as soon as he would let go of him. Or maybe Reki feared that Langa had concussed himself; thankfully, that had yet to happen. A miracle, really. 

Langa let himself be guided towards the stool Reki had been using earlier. He let his body crash against the wood as soon as he felt it brush against his thighs. If Reki was asking him to sit, then Langa could not refuse. He could never refuse Reki, no matter what it was he was asking. He had learned that the hard way, and there was no way he was going through those torturous days without Reki ever again. No way, especially not when Reki was this close, squeezing his way between Langa’s knees, his rough yet soft fingers holding onto Langa’s burning cheeks. Especially not when he was letting Langa hold on to his waist as he steadied himself onto the stool. Because obviously he needed something to steady himself; otherwise, he would have risked falling again. And he couldn’t fall again. Or was it too late for that? 

Reki was so close. So fucking close. Langa could practically count the freckles scattered across his nose, his cheeks, his forehead, his ears… He could almost count every short lash of Reki’s. And he was talking so softly to Langa. His voice was just so mesmerizing, so magical. 

“How’s your vision? Do things look blurry?”

“Not more than usual.” A frown pulled at the corners of Reki’s mouth; so much for cracking a joke to lighten the mood. “My vision is fine if that’s what you’re asking. I see just fine. It was an accident; didn’t think I was that far under the counter.” 

 “And your head? Does it hurt? Do you feel dizzy? Do you feel like—!”

Now, had this been some teen summer romance blockbuster, then maybe Langa would have quieted Reki with a spontaneous kiss. And maybe that would have been the beginning of the best summer of Langa’s life. But Langa was no movie protagonist and, while he was gutsy, he wasn’t that impulsive. So instead, he simply tightened his grip on Reki’s waist, interrupting the boy’s panicked questions. 

“I’m fine, Reki. I barely bumped my head against the counter. I’ve dealt with far worse in the past and I’ve survived every one of those blows.” 

“You smashed your head against my window frame the other day! I don’t know dude, but that’s kinda worrying! You could be concussed or something! Like, it’s not normal or good for you to constantly be hitting your head! You’re,” Reki’s voice dropped, his eyes finding Langa’s, “you’re not lying to me, are you?”

Reki had never made it easier to smile. “I’m fine, I swear. And I’m not lying to you, I promise.”

Reki huffed as Langa held up his pinkie finger. A light chuckle fell from his lips as his hold on Langa fell away before returning, his own finger curled around Langa’s. A promise had been formed and sealed, a promise that could no longer be broken, at least according to the rules of pinkie promises. But that touch didn’t linger, Reki finally backing away from between Langa’s legs. 

“I’m getting you some water and you better not have moved when I get back, you hear me?” 

Langa scoffed but still gave Reki a curt nod. There was no point in arguing with Reki; if he had to tape Langa down to the chair to keep him from getting up and wandering around, then he wouldn’t hesitate to do so. So Langa knew better than to try to argue. He simply watched the boy dash to the backroom where their bags were stashed. 

It never took much for Langa to look absolutely smitten. All he needed was a door swinging shut behind Reki, leaving Langa hidden from judgement. All it took was that adorably serious expression on Reki’s face as he ran off. All it required was for Reki to be, well, Reki. Everything about Reki was enough to leave Langa floating, because Reki was adorable. Seriously, absolutely adorable. 

“He sure it touchy with you.” 

Langa jumped at the sound of the voice, having forgotten about the girl standing by him. She had since gotten off the counter, but still, she leaned over it, eyes also glued to the door. The English almost sounded strange, like a foreign dialect taking over a safe space. Emily’s presence felt wrong, as if she had no business being here, next to him. Her presence left Langa annoyed once more, the feeling tugging on his insides. Work had always been one of the places where it truly was just him and Reki. Sure, sometimes Manager Oka would pop in, but most of the time, it was just Reki and Langa. Most of the time, it was a space for just them, somewhere where no one could burst their little bubble.

Dope Sketch was one of the few places where Langa didn’t feel self-conscious every time he snuck a glance at Reki. It was the only place where he knew he wouldn’t be caught by anyone. It was the only place where he felt he could be so unapologetically himself, knee-deep in his feelings without the fear that someone would bring it up, tease him about, or worst of all, call him out on his dumb crush. Here, at work, it was a land that belongs to only Reki and Langa. 

“He’s just treating me the same way he treats his sisters when they get hurt.” Langa’s tone was sharp and dry, leaving little room for a retort from the queen of annoying. “Probably just his brotherly instincts kicking in or whatever. It comes naturally to him to be caring, y’know?” 

“Uh-huh, sure.” Emily clicked her tongue as she climbed back onto the counter to sit cross-legged on top of it. “You keep telling yourself that, Lover Boy.” 

Langa had gotten his fair share of nicknames over the course of his life. He had gotten used to being called a variety of names by the people surrounding him. Reki often teased him by calling him Prince Langa, a name which made no sense to Langa given that he was the furthest thing from a prince. His mother still called him her little man or her baby, which, the more Langa thought about it, were hilarious things to be called. And Emily had gotten into the habit of calling him whatever passed through that thick skull of hers, though she did tend to favor the twig insult. There had been so many names that had shaped Langa, but Lover Boy had never been one of them. Lover Boy was… it wasn’t Langa. It was a name for someone with confidence, someone who was a smooth talker, things that were definitely not Langa when it came to people. Those were things that left Langa’s inside squirming with discomfort. It was a name he wanted to run from, and the best way to do that was by completely changing the subject before Emily could ever bring it up again. 

“Hey, Emmy? Did we have a treehouse as kids?” 

Emily scrunched her nose as she turned towards Langa. Her brow was pinched, looking strangely at her cousin. “Yeah? Grandpa built it when I was 10, but had to take it down that same summer for some unknown reason, don’t you remember?” 

Langa shook his head with a shrug. 

“We spent nearly the entire summer in that tree. But why bring that up now? That’s so random.” 

Langa shrugged once more. He wanted to change subjects and had had a flashback right after hitting his head. It was random, but that was the thing with foggy memories: they reappeared at the strangest of moments. 

“Seeing you looking down on me reminded me of that summer, but I wasn’t sure if it was a real memory or just my brain making things up. It’s just… It’s all a little haze, like every summer memory overlaps. I can’t really tell what happened and when, except the really big events that often got us in shit. Like that one time everyone thought I broke my arm after I fell from a tree? The first time we were allowed to go to the park alone and got home like an hour after the set time? Or that time we accidentally splashed paint on Grandma’s carpet?” 

“Oh man! She was so pissed at us! The stain is still there, you know? Almost faded, but you can still see it if you know where to look. And like, I was so sure she was going to rip our heads off that day.” 

“Yeah, she was not happy about that one. But the treehouse…” Langa leaned back on the stool, careful to not tip over and crash once again. “The memory feels fake. It’s like I had made it up to give myself some resemblance of a real childhood.”

“But you did have a real childhood, Langa. Sure, it was maybe a little unconventional with all your snowboarding training and competitions, maybe a bit of a gifted kid childhood, but you did still have a childhood. Your parents still took you out to the park when you were a kid and weren’t such an antisocial mess.” Emily stuck her tongue out at Langa’s pointed glare, grinning at the low blow. “But for real though, you had a pretty normal childhood otherwise. Like your parents used to push you on the swings for hours on end when you were a baby. Apparently, you like those things so damn much that the only time you would cry was when someone took you out of your swing.”

Langa slumped down on his stool, ducking his head in embarrassment. The swings were one of those vague baby memories he still had. He had forgotten the whole of it, but he did remember the wind in his face and how much liked it. Still likes it, actually. That had maybe played a big part in why he had gotten into snowboarding in the first place. Maybe that was why he still loved skateboarding so much. All Langa wanted was to be able to fly.

“We spent summer after summer together, playing in the basement and outside and all around the grandparents’ house. And you even throw the biggest temper tantrum ever in the supermarket because your mom didn’t get you the cookies you wanted.” 

“I did not do that.”

Emily snorted at Langa’s defensiveness. “Uh, yes you did. Auntie Nanako even has the pictures to prove it and she showed them tome. Something about despite not being pleased with her yelling child, she needed physical proof of you being a total brat out in public so that if ever you have kids and want to kill them for screaming in a public place, then she’d show you that you were no better despite being the quietest, shyest kid ever. Something about every kid throwing a temper tantrum at the most inconvenient of times. And then you’d just have to deal with it and understand your kid’s point of view of some shit like that?” 

Langa bit the insides of his cheeks, not quite wanting to believe the story. His mother had always insisted that he had been an exceptionally easy child, though a little worryingly emotionless. He would rarely argue or cry, so the possibility that he had been an absolute monster in the middle of a supermarket because of a box of cookies, it felt wrong. It felt impossible. Out of character. Fabricated, especially since Langa didn’t like cookies that much. 

“But it’s not because you weren’t part of the popular group at school or that you didn’t hang out with the other kids at the park after class that you lack a childhood. Childhood is… It’s a lot of things. Like trying to teach you how to do ballet. Or watching movies during lunchtime. Or playing video games in a basement.” 

“I think you mean repeatedly hitting me with a Wii remote because I somehow managed to beat your high score on Just Dance.”

“You weren’t even trying!” 

Langa chuckled at the girl’s outburst. “Just have to learn the mechanics of the game to win. You don’t actually have to be good at dancing. Or dance at all.” 

“You…”

Emily huffed, but it wasn’t long before her frown broke into a grin. Laughter spilled from her lips as Langa swatted her hand away, dodging her attempt at a hair ruffle. Because even if they were going down memory lane, Langa sure as hell was not letting her treat him like he was 5 years old again. 

“I know you feel like you’re a big weirdo and you didn’t have a childhood since your past doesn’t look like some American Walmart Thanksgiving commercial, but I can guarantee you had one. And a damn good one, for that matter! And you also definitely made mine a whole lot more memorable and fun. Like, I don’t know what I would have done without my little baby cousin to play with all summer long. Most probably would have turned out a whole lot worse than I have had you not been there to entertain me and keep me in check.”

Despite Emily’s teasing tone, it was her sentimentality that really stood out to Langa. And he never knew what to do with that. He didn’t know how to respond to the girl who always seemed so energetic, always so ready for the future. She wasn’t one to reminisce, tripping over memories from the past. Or at least, that was how Langa had always perceived her; that wasn’t the Emily he knew. To him, she was someone who lived to tease and annoy him, wholeheartedly. She wasn’t one to smile as softly as she was now, a light mist covering her eyes as the ancient years rolled by like a silent film. Those brown eyes, they were made to shine from mischief and scheming, not from the threat of tears. 

For the first time in what felt like forever, Langa felt something in his chest. His heart? Was it beating? If it was, it sure wasn’t the same heartbeat as when he was around Reki. It also wasn’t the same heartbeat that would race as he would slide through the world on a board. No, this time, it was going slower, feeling calmer. It beat with such a different feeling that Langa could not name it. It wasn’t excitement; it wasn’t anticipation. Was it perhaps nostalgia? Safety? Was it remembering what it was like to be a little kid, scrapping his knee as they played soccer against the garage door? Was it finding his first best friend, the person who had once been so important to him? It wasn’t anything like being with Reki, exciting and energetic and new, but still, it was nice. It felt like forgetting the distance that had estranged him from the girl who had been his only friend for so many years.

“Em,” Langa felt himself choke up, but he had to say something. He couldn’t remain silent. He couldn’t let the moment die. He couldn’t leave things unsaid, things he’d later have to bury deep within himself because it would be too late. He couldn’t let this moment pass, let the words fester until there would be no one to say them to anymore. “You also—!”

“Sorry it took so long! I just couldn’t find my water bottle anywhere, but I finally found it!”

Reki’s head poked out from behind the door as he held the bottle in the air. Almost like magic, all signs of tears vanished from Emily’s face. She perked up, a grin lighting up her face. And with such a grin came the dawning realization that all hell was about to break loose, the girl leaning dangerously close to Reki. 

“You should feed it to him.” 

Never had Langa felt so mortified in his life. He didn’t even dare look at Reki; his eyes remained on Emily who was now giggling hysterically to herself as she kicked her feet in the air like a child. For the first time since landing in Japan, she didn’t stumble on her Japanese words. They came as naturally as if they had been English. There had been no hesitancy whatsoever, which only made it worse for Langa and his stupidly burning cheeks. No need for a mirror to guess the color of his face; the blossoming heat was the only indicator he needed. 

“You feeling sick, man? If you need anything else, you’d tell me, right? If you’re not feeling well, you can go home. I’ll tell Oka what happened, don’t worry about it! I promise he’ll understand and I’m totally capable to working alone! You don’t have to worry about me at all!” 

Emily may not have hesitated, but bless her word for word translation passing over Reki’s head. And bless his not asking what she meant; explaining would have been far too awkward. Otherwise, there would have been more hesitancy in Langa’s grabbing of the water bottle before chugging down half of its contents. 

“I’m fine, Reki. Really. You have to stop worrying so much about me. And Emmy’s just being a bitch who thinks I can’t do anything on my own.” 

“Not my fault you were a mega crybaby back when you were a kid.” The shrug was just for show, but the twinkle in her eye was the real jab. “Took you forever to figure out chopsticks, I was convinced the grandmother was going to have to feed you until the day you die.” 

“Wait, but if I remember correctly, weren’t you the family’s crybaby? Because I’m pretty sure I saw you sobbed uncontrollably that time your pink spoon was dirty and you were forced to eat with a purple one.”

“I—!"

“I can’t imagine either one of you crying.” Reki’s voice cut through the argument, both turning towards the boy. He was glancing away, refusing to meet either of their gazes. “You guys are both just so… not like me.” 

The forced, bitter laughter that fell from Reki’s mouth broke Langa’s heart. Crying had always been a sensitive topic for Reki. He had never liked how easily his emotions could get the best of him. He hated how easily tears formed at the corners of his eyes. Just the idea of crying left him insecure, feeling like less than those around him. And Langa, well, he hated how Reki felt obligated to bottle up his feelings, not wanting to let others see his sadness or distress out of fear of being seen as less.

Langa remembered the first time he had seen Reki cry. It had been a hard time for both of them. It had been hard on Reki who had been holding back his tears until the dam broke free, a flood of tears pouring from his usually bright amber eyes. All his sadness, all his stress, all his insecurities had been let out, a ticking timebomb that exploded at the worst possible moment. And it had been hard on Langa who hadn’t known what to do. He didn’t know how to comfort Reki. He didn’t know what to say to him either. He didn’t know how to deal with everything that was happening so quickly, all around him. 

Since then, Langa made sure to remind Reki that crying wasn’t a bad thing. There was no reason for him to be ashamed of the tears. They weren’t a weakness. They weren’t a character flaw. It didn’t matter what other said or did or how they looked at him. None of it mattered; all that mattered was that Reki knew that crying was natural. All that mattered was that he didn’t find himself hating himself more for letting it all out. 

“Someone willing to let others see them cry is the bravest and strongest kind of person out there,” Langa had once said when Reki looked like he was holding back tears. “Not only are they honest with themselves, but they’re also not afraid to let others know how they’re feeling. There’s no point in hiding when you’re hurt.” 

It wasn’t every day Langa knew what to say, but in that moment, he remembered his mother’s words. They had been said to him when he was at his lowest, but still, he hadn’t taken them to heart. Still, he hadn’t let himself cry. But thankfully, Reki had listened. Thankfully, Reki had let it all out, weeping into Langa’s shoulder, hiccupping muffled words into a soaked t-shirt until he passed out from sheer exhaustion.

Reki didn’t need to be like Langa. He didn’t have to put up some emotionless person. He didn’t need to be ice cold like Langa. He didn’t need to look like he was ready to fight whoever got in his way or brush off everything anyone said. He didn’t need tears to be foreign to him. 

Reki, he was allowed to be emotional. He was allowed to be messy with his feelings. He was allowed to care about everyone around him and he was allowed to feel something about what as being said about him. He was allowed to cry his frustrations out if that was what helped him because Langa would be there. Langa would always be there. He would always be a shoulder to lean on, a hand to hold if Reki so wanted. 

Emily’s fingers curled around Reki’s forearm, leaning in closer than strictly necessary. “Don’t cry! I was kidding, you know! Langa is more than capable of taking care of himself! See? He can drink all on his own!” Her fingers dug into Reki’s skin, nearly breaking it as she gestured frantically at Langa with her other hand. “See? He’s a big boy! Totally capable of using his weird lanky body all on his own!”

Had it not been for the far more natural and pretty laughter that bubbled out of Reki, Langa would have hit his cousin upside the head. Or thrown the water bottle at her. Really, anything to shut her up. But Reki was rubbing at his nose, a grin slowly making its way across his face once more. There he was, smiling and bright, just the way Langa like it. Because while Reki was allowed to cry, it didn’t mean Langa liked it. If he could have it his way, he would have kept Reki happy for the rest of eternity. If he could keep Reki laughing, then there was nothing Langa wasn’t willing to do for that. There was absolutely nothing he wouldn’t do to see that pretty smile blossom across Reki’s face. 

“So,” Reki straightened himself out as he fell back into his more cheerful and professional voice, “can I help you with anything? Looking for anything in particular?” 

Emily slid down from the counter, her eyes scanning the environment as she hummed. It was obvious she hadn’t come here for anything at all; all she knew of skateboarding was that they had wheels and Langa could go fast on his board. Other than that, she had never shown interest in the sport. 

“Not really?” Langa rolled his eyes at the girl’s words. “I mean, I was looking for something, but that was mostly company from you guys. I’m just so bored at the apartment with Auntie Nanako at work and Langa’s not there either and there’s just so much tv and doomscrolling a girl can do in a day.  So yeah, I was just bored and wanted to check out where you two spend your days.” 

Reki leaned against the counter, his eyes following Emily’s gaze and fingers. “That sucks. Can’t you visit around or something?” 

“Not fluent enough and definitely can’t read anything. I’d be lost in a matter of seconds.” 

Her fingers swept over rough boards and smooth helmets. The colors reflected against her skin, staining her momentarily as she moved across the little shop. She seemed so out of place here, surrounded by loud t-shirts and colors. but at the same time, Emily seemed at ease. She browsed as if she were in any other shop, her eyes flickering between the many pieces on display. There were no questions or disgust in her eyes; there was an understanding that this was just another sports shop.

“Well, you know how to skate?” 

Emily turned back to the boy and shook her head. So much was obvious; she didn’t have the scars that Langa had or the fearlessness. She was dainty and princess-like, the exact opposite of what a skateboarder should be. Or maybe she did have what it took to be a skateboarder. Maybe Langa was just afraid of the sudden direction of this conversation.

“I tried to do a bit of figure skating back in the day, but I highly doubt that’s the skating you’re referring to. I always had to be careful to keep my bones intact since, you know, dancing and all that.”

“I can teach you if you’d like. I promise I won’t let you get hurt. You got my hand to hold for as long as you need and want.”

Reki’s smile was… Emily’s laughter… Everything started to fade out. Everything but the ringing in Langa’s ears. Everything but the tightness in his chest. Everything but the twist in his gut. Everything but the choking sensation building up at the base of his throat. 

Everything was fading. Everything was buzzing. Everything was going to hell.

Oh no.

[v1trum]

I've been reading lots of whump stuff cus I love it (in a writer way I'm not a freak) and the only characters ik well enough to write this way are tua characters. Only characters I have truly analyzed for probably hundreds of hours. Can't figure out who I wanna write.......

Comic five and Netflix five are very different... There wasn't any crafting of five during his time at the commission in the show, so I assume he didn't go through like. A bunch of pain.

He's probably gotten hella hurt in his 45 years in the apocalypse like . Spraining his ankle a week after getting there and having to deal with that w no medical care (this is sparking it's own fic helpme I love writing ppl spraining their ankles ig???) . Also there's hargreeves' whole tattoo thing making it clear he would make them withstand pain even when they were young so they could withstand it as adults.

So clearly he (and everyone else) have high pain tolerances, but most of them haven't experienced like fully on torture.

Luther got his entire body changed after getting hella hurt in a mission but like he was asleep during a nerve crippling transformation so he'd probably be easy ASF to break, but also, sorry Luther, I don't really wanna write a fic abt him 😭

Diego got shot and didn't gaf, same with getting two fingers chopped off, so clearly his pain tolerance is one of the larger ones and again, LOVE Diego but I kind wanna write a fic abt five or Klaus not any of the others cus I'm BIASED 😭

Allison knows EMOTIONAL pain all too well, but I feel like she probably 'rumor'ed things into not hurting lots of times so she probably doesn't have a crazy high pain tolerance. There was her getting her throat slit but that whole ordeal with how she acted was more "I can't believe I just got my throat slit and I'm gonna die now, also I can't talk" ,not being in multiple different forms of pain all at once. (Not Including emotional pain. I mean like multiple wounds)

Klaus. KLAUS. I reallyyy wanna break him bc he got tortured by cha-cha and hazel and literally didn't give two shits. He also was at war for 10 months I imagine he got some pretty hefty injuries during that. He also has multiple tattoos.

But with cha-cha and hazel I don't feel like they were very creative?? Maybe I'm just a little excessive when it comes to thinking of dif torture methods for characters but like. A few cuts, punches, and waterboarding?? They were in a hotel room so they were limited but holy hell I wanna write him actually getting taken back to the commission and to the torture department (we all know its gotta exist. It's the fucking commision) and getting ACTUALLY dug into. Time doesn't exist at the commission so employees don't age -- but you can very well die there.(As we know from fives little killing sprees with grenades ♥️). Head canon the torture section has like specific rooms where time is so fucked you can be tortured past the point of death but instead of dying you stay in that pain until you heal. (Makes no sense, but plot purposes, ok? 😭). Imagine a character (Klaus in this instance) staying in that terrible amount of pain for days, weeks, months until they heal and they're fresh to be cut right back into. After a while (several months, years for the character [Klaus] bc he was shoved in that room to heal for periods of time every day [commission time, not in-the-room time] to heal until they dug back into him the next day) they realize he genuinely doesn't have the information they want so they throw him on the doorstep of the academy. They would have thrown him there on the brink of death and not given a damn if he died but they were only a teensy but into their torture session when they gave up after months and tossed him on those steps. (Again, plot purposes, I don't want him dying so let's just say he wasn't on the brink of death just mildly injured when they tossed him on the doorstep)

But also I propose another fic where they keep him and have him brainwashed kinda and is forced to be back around his siblings without them knowing anything that happened to him to get information for the commission. If he tells them he's immediately killed but if he even unintentionally says something wrong he's shot with pain through some device they have on/in him so they have control of him like a damn dog with a shock collar . Anyways

So I'm thinking abt writing one of those OR.

Five. Would love to break him as well.

Same circumstances (almost) as Klaus except this is before he ever got back to his family. I also present: this is before he's old. I mean he can be 13 or 25 idc just younger. I'd actually really love to write it as him but like 16. And the commission takes him and has him doing all these things(assassinations and such). But they also like. Experiment?? On him? Like incorporating the whole every assassins genes thing from the comics but more in depth and with my own twist(s). Lets say they have a device that erases what happened to someones body , or parts of it, however much they want (except, for plot purposes five still remembers cus he has time traveling powers that somehow collide with the device making him still remember, but his body is rewound. Makes absolutely no sense but again, plot purposes.) that way they can experiment as much as they'd like without him just being that way permanently or dying. Example; extremely exaggerated like. Body mods? Like seeing what chopping his damn limbs off and giving him crazy cyborg limbs would do. If he would be an even better assassin if he was that way (he would. Obviously)

But I really wanna write him like not breaking at all until they start pulling at the "just one more test and we'll let you see your family" but what he doesn't know (at the time) is that 90% of the time they don't and when they DO it's not him being let free it's them showing him his siblings during their worst moments and him thinking their lives are just terrible and it's his fault and he shouldn't even save them he should listen to the commission and let the apocalypse happen and and and yeah

Okay guys... Erm...h... Also hope I don't get into another car wreck for writing some fanfics (I love milking that LMAO)

[ameliajessica]

Ok, I have never participated in one of these before, in spite of being on tumblr for like a third of my life lol, so bare with me please! I have no doubt this is going to be long and rambley! When I saw your tags on this asks meme I was like “What do you mean you don’t have a worthy fic output??? You have a million excellent fics out there?” and was earnestly shocked when I went over to ao3 and saw that you only had 10 Magicians fics. Now let me be clear, I am using the word “only” in the absolute LOOSEST sense, because as someone with a seemingly endless stack of wips constantly piling up in my docs who has never completed and posted anything longer than 8k, your treasure trove of masterpieces which include multiple fics in the double digit thousands is astoundingly impressive to me!!! But! I have re-read a few of your fics so many times that my brain has just a bunch of instances logged where I saw your name and went “mental note: one of the best writers in the Magicians fandom, part of the ultra cool club, maybe I should hold off on going through everything they’ve ever written right this very second so that I will have more from them to read on a rainy day.” So basically, the sheer awesomeness of your writing totally tricked me into not realizing that I have actually only read like 4 or 5 of your fics, and they dominated my brain enough to seem like a whole fandom’s worth. So um, with that in mind! I’ll actually ask the asks now lol

My favorite fic of yours

It is TIGHT, but I think I have to go with “just a touch of your love is enough” because that one permanently rewrote my brain chemistry and pretty much single handedly made start like a bunch of wips revolving around the concept of Quentin and Eliot being two people who were pretty ok with being in poly and open relationships until they went STUPID over each other. I’ve re-read it… maybe 5 times? 

My favorite chapter in my favorite fic of yours

To my growing shame, I am realizing that I have been saving your multichap fics this whole time. I read parts 1 and 2 of your ‘evolve’ series tho, and while I struggle to differentiate between the amazingness of Quentin’s POV vs Mike’s POV, I really really just loved the way part one closed out? I lovedddd the outsider POV of watching the Queliot sex matter more than any other sex either of them has ever had, and I really adored the gentle leaving of Mike – a little bitter but mostly just mature – telling Q not to let Eliot go. 

The best character you’ve written for

You simply cannot make me choose between Eliot and Quentin here; you write both of them so distinctly and so well!!!

The best ship you’ve written for

As I’m sure you can tell by now, this ask is extremely biased toward the Magicians. I’m sure all your other fics are equally excellent, but I found you through the Magicians and you were one of the people instrumental in me fixating on the Magicians for the past… idk. At least 2 years. So I GOTTA go Queliot. 

A fic I haven’t read yet from you, but I want to

I feel like I have been saving ‘baby please come home’ for a really really long time. I just know it’s gonna wreck me lol! 

Something I remember vividly from reading one of your fics

Oh no, there are way too many options crashing in my brain for this one at once! Um! I think I have to chicken out and go a little more general: the way you write Quentin and Eliot’s interactions with each other just ticks all my boxes for them. The thing that always really sticks with me is how you do such a great job mixing and balancing them bantering with each other and genuinely being friends who like each other and spending time together, and the soul-crushingly intense romantic feelings they have for one another, the deeply painful, star bright pining! You are so good at blending those two components so seamlessly together, even in a single conversation, and I always when reading your fics am beset with that very specific feeling when every sentence you next read is EXACTLY the sentence you want to be reading, because the characters are so well drawn. 

What made me the most emotional after reading

You have such a knack in your writing for showing just HOW MUCH Quentin and Eliot love each other. I’m always blown away and enraptured by it. The moments that have made me the most emotional are the ones that highlight how almost tragic the intensity of that love is. Quentin in the very funny and very hot ‘they ain’t got a clue (can’t love me like you do)’ thinking how mean it is for Eliot to be hot around him, and Eliot’s desperation in “just a touch of your love is enough” to just make Quentin happy the whole time no matter what. You do an excellent excellent EXCELLENT job of depicting their love as borderline tortuous without it crossing the line over into something unhealthy, and it destroys me every time without fail. 

What I like the most about your writing

In addition to your killer characterization, your excellent banter and comedy, your really truly perfect smut writing skills for both the hot and the tender (and weaving plot and character into the sex scenes in an impeccable way that always keeps my ace-spec ass LOCKED in) I just really love all the minutia of your like sentence structure and rhythm and all that good stuff. Your writing style pulls me right along in such a way that I often forget I am reading and not just injecting the story directly into my veins, but every time I emerge from the pools of my delight it is to notice something like “ooo, that was just some really solid prose right there”. I love your stuttering staccato period usage when you are writing from Quentin’s pov, the way you use your sentence structure, rhythm and grammar to emphasize the character. 

A fic i’m excited for you updating/posting

Alright I categorically DO NOT want to make you feel pressured or bad about your unfinished works. Again, I have a million wips I haven’t started posting yet, and just in general I have lost interest in some of my works before and know how complicated that can feel, so I really don’t want to bring up any of your pieces without knowing if that is welcome or if you have lost interest in them. That said I gotta say the concept for “wreck my plans (that’s my man)” TUGS at me, and I would love to read more of any Magician’s works from you at any time! If you are still into the fandom and feel like adding onto any of your fics or posting new ones, just know that you have an avid reader in me! And, if you ever wanted a beta or cheerleader, well I admire you deeply, think you are just SO COOL, and desperately wanna be your friend so like… please please please feel free to hit me up

A character/ship I didn’t enjoy/think about as much before you wrote about them

Hmm, I can’t say I didn’t enjoy or think about Margo and Quentin’s friendship before reading the way you write them, but I do think you added onto that love significantly. Same goes for the concept of Quentin and Eliot: accidental monogamists, a concept I think you like PERFECTED lol

Something I wish/hope you write

See #9 lol. I guess… I also gotta mention that every time I read ‘they ain’t got a clue (can’t love me like you do)’ a part of me is dying for an Eliot’s pov of the whole thing. You just do such a good job of showing Eliot’s pov from INSIDE Quentin’s pov while Quentin remains oblivious, and it leaves me yearning haha

A fic of yours that i’ve re-read

‘they ain’t got a clue (can’t love me like you do)’, “just a touch of your love is enough”, “i feel it in my body, know it in my mind”, and “if being him is who you are/ say it loud say your know you are” just… so many times. 

If i’ve ever shared/talked about your fic to someone else

Hmm, not exactly? People don’t often ask me for recs lol, but if they did you would be at the top of my list!

A fic I didn’t expect to like so much

Let’s see… maybe  “i feel it in my body, know it in my mind”? I think when I first read that one I mixed the summary up with a different one I didn’t remember liking as much, but thought I should try re-reading anyway, and was DELIGHTED by what I got instead

A question I have about one of your fics

Hmm… This one is hard because your fics are all so fleshed out I don’t really leave them confused about anything. Are there any Magician’s fics you feel like you might return to one day, and are there any you feel pretty positive you aren’t interested in anymore? Are there any still in the works that haven’t made it to ao3 yet? What was your favorite one to write?

Anyway, hope you are having a lovely day! Your fics mean the world to me! I wanna befriend you so awkwardly bad! Genuinely hit me up if you would like a beta or cheerleader! You are such a good writer it's insane! Thank you for all the wonderful work you have put out into the world!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️

hello!!! i confess i have been putting off answering this just because once i did it would obviously vanish from my inbox, and it is genuinely one of the most thoroughly, generously detailed thoughts on my fic i have ever received, in over a decade of this little hobby. i'm genuinely so floored you would take the time to respond to this based off a little tag comment i made (that i did indeed make bc i know some amazing magicians' fic authors who have such profilic, sprawling output). i'm gonna save this and look at it whenever i have doubts that anyone cares if i continue with my little magicians fics, which i do intend to do! i tend to chip away at them every few months, coo over how much i love quentin and eliot, and then move on, but i will put something substantial out there one day i promise.

so to answer the rest of your questions! ahem:

definitely 'show a little faith', or thanksgiving fic as it's known in my head, is the primary victim of my fic pecking. i have the outline etc in my head it's just getting it out there on paper, as it were.

similar, the q as margo's assistant AU, written for best girl @coldbam and i have to give credit: was her idea in the first place. she had said she wished someone wrote something like it, and for that reason it was more of a burst of something i wrote to have something to give nicole on her birthday that year given our tragically perpetual long-distance friendship, and the story beats were a bit more nebulous. BUT it was really fun and i had enough direction that i could go back to it (and many notes on ideas for scenes, many of them run by nicole on the phone to ensure they aligned with her ~vision).

there's a few longer WIPs/ongoing ideas that aren't on ao3 at all, but very much exist in fits and starts of writing and EXTENSIVE notes lmao, as is my way.

an AU where q is a TA/professor, and eliot and margo went to fillory prior to quentin enrolling and now he is an advisor who has to go back to take a class for reasons (they need a minor mending spell for some kind of kingdom reason; margo is king here). the idea came about just bc i'll be honest, professor/student pairings aren't totally my thing but i think eliot would get a lot of horny mileage out of it, especially bc q would be like "stop that's problematic!!!" (while also horny secretly). age gaps aren't also super my thing but especially eliot and q being only a year or so apart is very important to their dynamic to me also, hence q only being a TA or a very new professor at that (with maybe eliot and margo being in fillory for a few years at that point).

oh man, the fic lovingly titled 'fillory boy AU' that got so so much attention in my group chat with nicole above and beloved @kenshivshow. it's a similar concept to @hmgfanfic's INCREDIBLE fic, where q is a boy from fillory and eliot marries him instead of fen, but mine is a lot sillier and hornier and much less sprawling and impressive. i love it a lot and it has a lot of it written.

my favourite one to write is such a hard question. i am a corny loser who genuinely loves writing all fic bc otherwise i wouldn't do it. but:

just a touch of your love is enough was my first big bang so i gotta give that a shout out, plus the amazing art by @lu-does-eurovision!

they ain't got a clue (can't love me like you) gave me the chance to write a plotline from probably my favourite show, grey's anatomy, and i also managed to get it all out in a weekend bc i was so inspired. a thrilling feeling i will continue to chase forever!

again thank you so much, this message made my day when i got it and made my days over and over when i would go back to it. i'm really honoured and grateful!

[cr-amber]

Author Interview

ty @twisted-tales-told for the tag!!!

How many works on ao3: 15, very soon to be 16!!

How many words on ao3: 77,163

Top 5 stories by Kudos

Perfect Little Life

the one where sirius is an accidental matchmaker

Not Exactly A Secret

Kiss Me Goodnight

Call Him Pretty

Do you respond to comments?

yeah!! as long as they're nice i try to respond to every comment

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

that would be desperate prayers of a cursed man aka the only time i've ever written something with the canon compliant deaths

Do you write crossovers?

nope! i've got one fic that's jegulus but based on a scene from rwrb, that's probably the closest

Have you ever recieved hate before on a fic?

not seriously, every so often people comment telling me i shouldn't write trans characters a certain way and i usually just delete those bc,, i'm literally trans??

Do you write smut?

yep! i didn't think i ever would and then i wrote Kiss Me Goodnight thinking it was gonna be fade to black and then it,, wasn't, and as it turns out writing smut is a lot of fun sometimes

Have you ever had your fics stolen?

not that i know of!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

not that i can recall! lots of discord chats about stories but nothing official

What's your favourite ship of all time?

oh man i think it's gotta be drarry they've just lasted through sooo much

very close seconds are jegulus and snowbaz

Have you ever had a fic translated:

not that i can recall

Whats a wip you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

ugh my marauders band au that i have so many random parts of but not all the pieces i need to string the whole thing together

What are your writing strengths?

i think i'm really good at capturing a little moment/scene/day without needing a ton of backstory/worldbuilding to get the connection between the characters across!

What are your writing weaknesses?

i can't write in order to save my life, and that unfortunately means i end up with lots of ideas that never get finished bc i can't be bothered to connect the pieces.

i also just don't love conflict and would rather my characters be happy, so sometimes that can make my stories fall flat

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages?

love!! it's such a cool way to add to a character (i live for latino james speaking spanish) and i don't mind having a fic open in one tab and google translate open in another to understand what's going on.

i haven't done it much myself, but maybe i'll get into it more!

What's a fandom/Ship you haven't written for but want to?

snowbaz from carry on by rainbow rowell

What's your favourite fic you've ever written?

i think that possibly, maybe i'm falling for you is the one i'm most proud of atm bc it's soo long for me (i know 42k isnt that long in fanfic world but for me its a lot) and i finally finished it!!

no pressure tags: @sophsicle @arakhnee and anyone else who wants to!

[bea-schuyler]

hi all!

was rewatching ITH and decided to write a little fic because yk-motivation

type-angst??i guess :)

warnings:mention of death,mentions of harrasment/catcalling

anyway hope you like!

Vanessa Lost

I stood,frozen to my feet as the lights blazed different colours.I felt dizzy from being spun around,a mix of dinner and alchohol making me feel sick.I looked around as everyone continued to dance and my head pounded,my vision blurring a little.

I shook my head and began to walk in the direction of the bar,my heels making a click-clack against the floor.The club was like an oven,and it was jam-packed with people.

“Excuse me..”I muttered as I squeezed myself through the crowd.

“Ay,Vanessa!”I heard someone yell,but it was too loud for me to see who.

Suddenly,the lights went out,and everything was dark.

“Oye,que paso?!”shouted someone in the crowd.My head spun as I heard people scream.Someone shoved me and I toppled over into the crowd.

“Blackout!Blackout!”yelled a man.”No shit,Sherlock.”I thought to myself.What had happened?

“Vino el apagon,ay díos..”shouted a woman melodically.

The whole club was frantic as people waved torchlights.I thought of Abuela Claudia in the apartment..she meant so much to the barrío,but was she alright?

“Usnavi?”I yelled at the top of my lungs through the din of everyones manic yelling.

I heard him faintly shout my name and shook my head.Too far away.He shouted my name again and I yelled back as I pushed through the crowd.

Thousands of pops sounded as someone set off fireworks.I looked up at them and smiled.At least there was lights…

Where the hell was Usnavi?Or anyone?

I caught a glimpse of him and rushed up,pent-up anger and frustration in my voice.He left me!In a hot club,full of randomers who just wanted to get with me for my body!

“Usnavi!”I yelled,frustration in my voice.

“Yeah,Vanessa!”he spun around and I walked towards him.

“You abandoned me!”I spat,justafiably upset.He had just left me there!

“Yo-What are you talking about?”he asked me as I began to walk away,my hair swaying in the cool night breeze.

“Usnavi,all night-you barely even danced with me!”I muttered as I stormed off,shoes clicking against the pavement.

He cut in front of me,looked me dead in the eye.

“Dont make me laugh!I’ve been trying all night!You’ve been shaking your ass for like half of the Heights!”he responds.

I shake my head.So he was exactly like all those other boys,who say shit like that.I’m an idiot for thinking any different.

“Real nice.”I shoot back,poison in my tone.

“You barely gave me a chance all evening!”he retorts.

“What?”I yell.He’s the one going off with that girl,and he pulls that shit!

“Do I get another dance?”he asks me hopefully.

“Im leaving.”I shoot back as I begin walking away.My hair blows in the wind and although I’m frustrated and upset,I have the power.

“Vanessa!”he calls after me,drawing out the E as I keep my eyes ahead.

“I gotta go!”I yelled,my voice staying steady.No matter how much I-If I-loved him,I wasnt going go crack.

“Dont walk away from us tonight.”he yells.Oh,really nice.Who is us?Its just me and him now,the world spinning as we argue.

“I dont need anything tonight.”I mutter,as I begin to walk back to him,up close and personal.

“I can find my way home.”I shoot at him,up in his face.I didnt care if I was being rude,but on the inside I was hurt,and he was too.

“Keep running away from home.”

“Without you!Without you!”

___________________________________________

On my furious walk home,my fingers cross a piece of pink ribbon.I pull more and more out and stuff it in my hand,brain flooded with ideas.

As I reach my apartment I sit down at my desk,my face and desk illuminated by my crappy phone torch.I furiously scribble designs upon designs,nimbly tie bows with my fingers and I smile to myself.Maybe this blackout and argument had its upside.

I tried to push Usnavi and all thoughts of him from my mind as I distracted myself with my work.

And I resent him until I hear the news.

And my heart breaks for him.

____________________________________________

Abuela Claudia’s heart gave out.

The barrío lights up candles,and we raise them to the sky as we sing.I walk alongside Benny,who’s heart breaks for Nina.

“Alabanza..Alabanza Abuela Claudia..”

We gather outside the door and as I look into Usnavi’s tear stained face I cannot feel angry.He stares out on everyone singing Claudia’s praise and shows no signs of happiness.Just pure pain.

We meet eyes for a minute and he looks away.My heart feels like a porcelain statue that has been dropped from the Empire State.He turns away and I shake my head.

We lower our torches and I give a silent prayer to Abuela Claudia.I pray that she went in peace,and that the De La Vega’s and Rosario’s are really,truly okay.

____________________________________________

Authors Note:Hi all!I hope yall liked this but Ive never really written fanfic before so I hope this is okay <3 I am rewatching ITH so thought I’d write a fic.Drop some requests-working on the Weeks Au fanfic rn :)