#I need to fix that in future chapters smh

[starwrighter]

I am not a Baby!! (yes you are)

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(Chapter five lol)

A jarring noise jolted him awake way too soon for his liking. His eyelids still felt like anchors and vague images of a good dream lingered in his mind. If he went back to sleep now the chances of him continuing his dream where it left off were next to zero. As the noise continued Danny found himself pouting, his eyes watering despite not being sad. Frustration bubbled like a hot spring as he whipped his head around to the source. The radio!

All his anger shifted to giddy hope, exhaustion melting away as he rushed to the blinking red light and pressed play. The machine whirred and clicked a robotic voice different from his PDA chiming in

"Playing pre-recorded distress call..."

"This is lifepod 3, uploading our coordinates. We're plugging some holes in our emergency Seaglide, so if we're late for the rendezvous don't panic. Also, don't go home without us. Seriously. 3 out."

A young lady's voice played from the machine, coordinates downloading to his PDA along with the message itself. It felt like a decade had passed since he'd heard a human voice despite only being on this planet for a day at max. Looking at the coordinates, their life pod should be floating around in one of the kelp forests. Danny still looked human, so meeting up with the other survivors probably wouldn't be too scary for them, alarming yes, but not scary.

In all likelihood, the crew of life pod 3 wouldn't still be there when Danny reached the signal. The message had been sent around ten minutes after the crash and Danny was just now receiving it a day later. A rendezvous was mentioned in the distress call, maybe he could get the coordinates from the other pod's radio? The call he received was obviously responding to a distress call other than his. Why he wasn't receiving messages in chronological order was probably the same reason his PDA's blueprints were corrupted and his lifepod's interior was on fire when he woke up.

All he knew was following that signal was the first thing he was going to do when he set out again. Inside the life pod, however, he was going to have breakfast. Toddling over to the storage unit Danny picked out what was supposed to be a block of food. Scrunching up his nose Danny took a bite, it was dense and crumbled when he bit into it yet, was somehow chewy like a fruit gummy. The taste was nothing like fruit in fact it tasted more like meat. Not good meat either, like someone had taken raw steak rolled it around in their yard fresh after mowing, and then sprayed disinfectant on it. It took an entire water bottle to wash away the artificial taste on his tongue! Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if you told him this was expired. It wasn't packaged, it just sat at the bottom of a warm storage unit next to his remaining water bottle and flares.

...

Was this some kind of space rat poison? Did he seriously just eat rat poison, his PDA didn't warn him it was rat poison. It should have warned him if it was rat poison there was no reason the PDA would have to poison him... Unless it wanted to? Did his PDA become sentient because it was sick of his crap? He hadn't even gotten close to the level of annoying his friends and enemies dealt with on a daily basis. If his PDA became sentient it was either a coward or trying to save itself the trouble.

"Hi?" Danny questioned, staring intently at his PDA waiting for a response... Nothing happened, after minutes of waiting silently so as to not interrupt the PDA if it decided to speak nothing happened no pop-up, notification, or comment. It wasn't at all disappointing and if it was that was only because the thought of a sentient AI to talk to sounded super cool.

Ancients, how was he this desperate for interaction already? Where was his fire extinguisher? Shuffling around the lifepod Danny looked under the seats, snatching up the bright red fire extinguisher and clutching it to his chest. Resting his chin on the handle Danny sighed, chubby fingers slipping against the smooth metal. The fire extinguisher wasn't as heavy as it'd been when he first sprayed it pretty soon, Wilson would be as useless for putting out fires as it was for blunt force damage. A knife in his backpack could be justified but a fire extinguisher while swimming in the ocean? A waste of space. Leaving his inanimate friend behind was the practical option but Danny didn't care.

The knife he'd acquired last night might be his main friend from now on but Wilson was the Og. They're going on adventures together and Danny would keep it in his room as a souvenir. A knife would eventually be taken from him but fire extinguishers were for forever! Stuffing Wilson into his bag Danny prepared to leave his lifepod again.

Squeezing the knife in his right hand Danny gave a few test swings. Physically, he's weak but the knife was sharp and it'd do some serious damage if he was careful what he swung at. As much as his food tasted like something you were served in prison this was not prison and throwing hands with the biggest creature on the planet would do him no good. With that said he was going to pick a fight with whoever invented those nutrient blocks, or maybe he'd sick the lunch lady on them? Whoever made these rations deserved to live off of only them for at least a week.

Opening the hatch was easier than it was yesterday, the orange handle turning smoothly with one yank instead of many. Water less foreign against his skin, the wetsuit feeling more natural than it had before. A dive that wasn't skin-tight would still be preferred but at least it was breathable and protected him decently. Swimming had gotten a bit easier, the flippers didn't make a huge difference when you accounted for the heavy oxygen tank strapped to his back. Surprisingly the weight of the new tools in his backpack and the oxygen tank strapped to him didn't drag him down to the seafloor.

Catching a few fish with his teeth to distract the metal muncher. Danny wandered towards the signal. Sticking low to the seabed, he ducked between creeping hiding amongst the vines and using supply crates as cover. Tossing a fish at metal munchers that lurked a bit too close to his hiding place distracted them long enough to get to the next one before they swam to inspect where their snack had come from. His PDA informed him it gave the metal muncher a name when he distracted it long enough to scan it. A "Stalker" is what the AI deemed a suitable name. Danny thought that name was boring, a dramatic name for a creature that Danny found to be scatterbrained and lacked the dedication to hunting the name implied. Its pattern of movement was closer to sneaking than it was to stalking. It was an annoying name choice but it made sense. You couldn't give a living creature the genius name he came up with.

Coral was wrinkled like a brain but colored a bright purple and spat out air bubbles that filled his air tank. Giving him more time to explore before the natural need for air spoiled his fun. Sandstone outcrops popped up more often in the kelp forests, useful silver and gold dropped into his open palms before quickly being stuffed into his backpack.

As he closed in on the signal, body pressed to a grassy seabed a sinking feeling started to fester in his stomach. A feeling that soon shifted to overwhelming grief that hit him like a crowbar to the cranium. Chest tightening as a sunken lifepod clear in his view. If it'd had just been sunken there was hope that it'd happened after the crew moved on, perhaps a Stalker taking a little nibble? No, this lifepod had been exposed to some sort of explosion, metal blackened and jutted outward. The bottom hatch looked to be ripped from the floor, now leaning against the gaping hole just below the bright red 3 labeling the lifepod. While there were bite marks on the pod, parts of the yellow latter were likely torn off by a passing stalker that likely occurred after the initial explosion.

Considering his lifepod was on fire when he woke up, this one exploding for no visible reason was too much of a stretch. Swimming into the sunken pod, prepared for the worst. Mentally preparing himself to see a mangled body or the horrific scene of a lethal incident. The lack of gore upon his entry was both relieving and unnerving. A lack of bodies didn't bring him hope, the hairs standing on the back of his neck and a cold breath stuck in his chest told him with certainty that the crew of this lifepod was dead.

The crew's last voice log confirmed this. A modified power cell, one to supercharge a sea glide to be capable of carrying two people at a higher speed. The math was perfect in theory but the seglide itself wasn't built for the power cell. It was too powerful, the kind you used to power bigger things like prawn suits or seamoths. Like rigging a car battery to power a lightbulb it was doomed from the start Chances were, it started to overheat the moment they turned it on and overloaded a few feet from the pod just like the crew thought it would.

Awful, There were no names on the PDA. No bodies to be buried or cremated and no names to be remembered for grieving. Deaths that he could only mourn in the confines of his mind. Jane and John doe's that died doing their best to ensure survival in a shitty situation. It took everything he had not to cry, though maybe he was already crying but the ocean was washing his tears away without a trace just like it had with these people.

A large displacement of water followed by a not quite shriek of something much bigger than a metal muncher snapped him back. That did not sound friendly! Danny hugged the wall of the lifepod peeking out through one of the many holes made by the stalkers.

That didn't look friendly either.

A gigantic snake-like fish with pelvic fins like silk sleeves. Gills glowed a toxic white, its yellow body shimmering in the daylight. Similar to a hoverfish there were spots lining the fish's back, a large white blob in the shape of a bat on its chest. It glided through the water slowly circling the lifepod, eyes glowing yellow.

"Thirty seconds," Danny could have screamed, the robotic alert like a firecracker going off during silent reading. The giant fish whipped its head around creeping towards the lifepod at an agonizingly slow pace. Heart racing, Danny clung to the side of the lifepod pressing himself as flatly against the pod as he could. Desperate to avoid being spotted he shoved himself underneath a metal panel.

A stalker's roar broke through the water followed by a pained shriek and a body slamming against the sand. Danny took this opportunity to make his escape, vision blurring as he swam to the surface. A gasp of air could never taste any sweeter as he watched a pack of stalkers attempt to eat the giant. The giant just seemed annoyed, their face pinched in what he could only assume was the fish equivalent of exasperation. Batting away the hungry gators with their blanket-like tale, Stalkers attempted to thrash around a creature that was several times bigger than them, thinking they could take him as a group.

This distraction lasted long enough for Danny to flee back to the shallows. Back to the bladderfish and Peepers who didn't look like they could swallow him whole without noticing it. Now Danny didn't mean to judge a book by its cover but he also wasn't willing to swim up to a fish that big, not when he wasn't sure if that was the one who'd had a taste of human flesh.

"Detecting increased local radiation levels. Trend is consistent with damage to the Aurora's drive core, sustained during planetfall"

Well shit, sometimes Danny hated being right.

@pupstim @ashoutinthedarkness @avelnfear @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @meira-3919 @blep-23 @hugsandchaos @stargazing-bookwyrm @starlightcat04 @bytheoldwillowtree @zeldomnyo @justwannabecat @shepherdsheart

#Danny named a fire extinguisher Wilson in chapter two lol #Danny wandering towards the signal while unintentionally wandering toward Signal #Danny deserves to cry let the boy cry #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #subnautica au #I feel like danny isn't feral enough #I need to fix that in future chapters smh

[novantinuum]

💫🦋🎀💝💥

@a03-anxiousandafraid also sent in two of these- thank you very much!

__

💫what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?

The quickest way to my heart in the comment section is to start a conversation about meta, or ask a question about the broader lore, or notice the overarching themes of a chapter, or to make predictions about what one things may happen next. Just, in general, any comment that shows genuine engagement with the text makes my heart sour <3

I spend so long working on these chapters and pouring over every detail, so it's always wonderful when you get a few readers who are taking their time to read between the lines and notice all those details and happily exude about their reading experience.

🦋what are you most insecure about when you post a fic?

Stupid typos that I should've noticed in AO3 editing. AO3 has this annoying thing where it likes messing up italicized dialogue and adding extra spaces where they don't need to be, and it's really aggravating to fix. I inevitably miss a few of those typos when I post, and I just think they make my works look less polished.

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing

Uh... I generally think I have gotten better at writing action scenes lately? Those used to be a topic I dreaded, but after writing a few chunky ones this past year (most of which I've yet to post), I feel like I'm starting to get the hang of them. There's a sense of like... there's a tempo one has to find for their action scenes. And I've found it's also helpful to have some emotional struggle overlapping with the physical action, so you have something else to play off of and provide more urgency to the scene.

💝what is a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

Lol definitely Hollowed Moon, that one SU fic where I had Stevonnie meet Spinel (who was still stuck in that garden.)

In hindsight I know that most of its popularity was just because Spinel was a brand new character and I was one of the first people to actually write an ongoing multichapter fic about her, but like... my god. That one really blew up in a wild way. (And also earned me some of the ickiest crit comments I've ever gotten, like... GOD- when you have a popular fic, people just really feel the need to nitpick at it for no reason, huh?) I also remember people getting into a drawn out argument about Spinel and whether or not her implied BPD was an excuse for her behavior in canon or not lmafo. Like... guys... please... can we take this outside and not hash this out in the comments of my fic???

That's all a big reason why I abandoned that work, sigh. I was sick of dealing with people's toxic comments on it. Believe me- if you've ever wished for popularity on a fic, don't. It's seriously not worth it, smh.

💥find your least kudos’d fic - say something wonderful about it.

So lol- I almost didn't want to count these, but my least kudos'd fic is a cross post of an old Doctor Who fic from ff.net that was originally written in 2013. So since it's some of my oldest writing, it genuinely... isn't that great. (I posted it on my AO3 to ensure it is safely archived somewhere beyond a site that has a questionable future.)

The fic is called Bedtime Stories, and it's a short scene with the Eleventh Doctor and a sleepy Amy, just kinda him waxing poetic about his past and his regrets or whatever. It's like- it's honestly not great, and definitely reeks of flawed 15 year old logic, but I do feel like I succeeded in pulling out a good Sad Eleven voice for this one.

#jen rambles #ask meme

[idabbleincrazy]

Mendings, Major and Minor (5)

Patreon  Tip Jar

<-- Chapter Four

Fandom: Angel (Buffyverse)

Rating: E

Pairing: Spangel

Word Count: 5583

Warnings: Smut, angst, light body worship, oral, coming on command, rimming, anal fingering, anal, coming untouched, biting, blood drinking, scent kink, blood kink, Sire/Childe dynamics, vampire dynamics, 

Series Summary: Series Summary: Spike gets badly injured after dragging Angel along to an ill-conceived demon fight and Angel finds he can’t help but slip back into long-repressed habits. When the past comes back to them, will they continue fighting the inevitable or can Angel find a way for them to move forward, together?

Chapter Summary: Ah, brooding during sex. Whoever said vampires can't multitask?

A/N: wow, i can't believe it took so long to update this fic. Smh. Hopefully, now that i got past what was blocking me, the muse won't be so moody about this one in the future and it won't take six months for the next one.

Squares Filled: Free Space ( @anyfandomangstbingo​ )

Wanna be tagged? Add yourself here! Reblogs and comments feed the muse!

Chapter Five: Never Too Late

Spike slowed his draining of Angel's blood to small sips as he blocked out his own worrisome thoughts, refusing to focus on anything other than the erotic feel of cool lips on his skin. His cock throbbed with need, its bulbous head now peeking out from the thin sheath of foreskin, ruddy and wet with the first drops of pre-cum, as the thick length curved up to lay against his stomach. He felt blunt teeth graze against his clavicle and voiced a husky moan, the sound muffled against Angel’s wrist as he teased more blood from the wound. 

Angel kissed his way down the middle of Spike’s chest and across his left pec to mouth teasingly at the pink nub that was beginning to harden in the center of the muscle. Spike retracted his fangs from Angel’s wrist when Angel scraped a blunt tooth over his nipple, arching up into the cool wet of his mouth with a gasp. Angel looked up at him as he felt Spike gently lapping at the closing wound, cleaning up the last trickle of blood. 

They met each other’s gazes as Angel pulled his arm away from Spike’s mouth, his hand reaching up further to brush across his forehead, fingers tracing along the ridges and back again over the smooth skin as Spike let his human visage fall back into place. Angel pressed his tongue flat against the hardening nub and watched as Spike’s eyes darkened, steely blue turning midnight as Angel toyed with the friction-reddened peak. 

“Christ, Angel”, Spike’s eyes fell closed and he let his head fall back against the pillows as Angel turned his ministrations to the other nipple, one hand reaching to card through Angel’s hair and the other digging into the skin of his shoulder. Ol’ bugger’s never forgotten how to play me like a bleedin’ instrument. ‘S not soddin’ fair that he can keep making me feel like it hasn’t been a century since he’s touched me like this. “Oh, pet, fuck.” 

Angel smirked around Spike’s tortured nipple, his cock throbbing at each needy sound he pulled from the pouty lips he’d missed for far too long. Come on, my sweet boy, lemme hear you beg for me, like you used to. Show me some sign that things aren’t too broken to be fixed. 

“Angel…”

“Hmm?” Angel questioned around the stiff peak, teeth grazing over the pebbled flesh to tease another whimper from the younger vampire. That’s it, Will. My Will, my Spike, my little one. Let me hear it. Say it...

Don’t beg, don’t you bloody beg for him, you pansy wanker…

“Please…” Traitor. 

"Please…what, Spike?"

Prat. 

"Please, Sire," Spike bucked slightly beneath Angel as he fought to allow the words out, "need more. Need you."

Jesus. Have two simple words ever sounded so fucking erotic? Angel growled against Spike's skin and let a fang descend just long enough to prick at the nipple between his lips and relished the keening moan that filled his ears as he lapped up the drop of blood that welled from the tiny wound before lifting his head from the near-heaving chest and surging down Spike's wriggling form. He hadn’t been angling for another use of the epithet, had really only wanted to hear Spike’s lusty voice uttering what he knew his boy had wanted since he’d laid him out on the bed, but fuck if he didn’t have to fight not to come on the spot when he’d heard that title rasped out so needily. Those two words, need you, were somehow more titillating than if he had husked out the more-expected fuck, Angelus, suck me.

Angel swiftly kissed and nipped his way down Spike's stomach and teasingly swirled his tongue around his navel, lingering there until he heard a plaintive whimper prompting him just a bit lower. He lapped his tongue over the weeping slit of the fully exposed cockhead and felt Spike's nails scratch at his scalp, the body beneath him tensing up against the need to buck up into his mouth. 

“Gods, Angel, fuck...” Spike’s voice was thick with lust, the sound a husky whisper that filled the silence of the room. He tugged at Angel’s hair as the elder vampire repeated his motions again, that kitten-rough tongue scraping deliciously over the head of his cock to lick up the new drop of pre-come that welled up from the slit. “Yeah...shite, more, pet, need more.”

Angel tried to push back the sudden thought niggled in the back of his mind that of all names and terms of endearment that Spike had called him so far, there was still one word yet to pass those lips. One word both soul and demon longed to hear, and feared he never would again. I don’t deserve that word from him, not yet, maybe never again. How could he love me again, after everything? Need me, want me, sure, the blood will always make sure of that, but love can’t be forced by blood. Could I ever do enough to earn that love back? 

“Can hear you brooding, Peaches. Don’t.” Spike tugged at Angel’s hair insistently, urging him to lift his head. Blue eyes blown black with arousal met his as he looked up, lips parted in a slight pout, his brow furrowed with what could either have been concern, or more likely in Spike’s case, annoyance. “Don’t think, yeah? (Pretty sure I’m doing enough o’that for the both of us, need you to keep me distracted.) Jus’ let the blood take over; we’re vampires, pet, even injured, you can still fuck me like one. C’mon, Angel, let go a bit. It’s okay to just let yourself be, to give in like you said you were gonna.”

Angel flashed him a quick, sheepish, smile and nodded. He banished his forlorn thoughts, closed his eyes for a moment, and let the pull of the blood shared between them work its magic. The smell of arousal permeated the air, surrounding him like a fog and he let it fill his dead lungs, let fill every pore and finally he bent his head back down to take his Childe’s hardened cock into his mouth. His own length hung heavy and throbbing between his legs as he slid his lips down the silky steel of Spike’s shaft. 

“Christ, yes! Just like that, Angel,” Spike thrust his hips up as far as he could into the cavern of Angel’s mouth, large hands all but pinning him to the mattress. “Missed that bloody brilliant mouth o’yours on me like this, so fucking good.”

Angel hummed around the length twitching on his tongue, pleased at the response he’d garnered from his boy, at the fact that not so much had changed between them that he couldn’t still make him squirm. Never one to be patient, were you my Will? Always loved how needy you could get for me from a few well-placed touches. Angel hollowed his cheeks as he felt the tip of the hard cock press against the back of his throat. As he buried his nose into the darker, wiry, curls that surrounded the throbbing shaft, Angel swallowed, his tongue pressing hard against the sensitive nerves beneath the head as his throat constricted around it. 

“Bloody fucking...shite, lu-Liam, gonna come too soon if you keep doing that.”

Angel let Spike’s cock slip from his mouth with a wet pop and looked up at him with lust-blown eyes.

“That’s kind of the idea, Spike. Wasn’t planning on stopping after just one, we’ve got hours till Fred gets in.” Angel let a bit of Angelus show through as he flashed Spike a fanged grin before swooping back down to engulf his leaking shaft. He threaded gentle words with that too-familiar commanding tone, his own cock swelling impossibly further as Spike shuddered beneath him. “Come on, sweet Will, let me taste you. Come for me, boy, now.”

Couldn’t bloody stop if I tried, with that voice in my ears, could I? Gone soddin’ pathetic again, ‘Gelus says jump, I don’t even wait to ask how high, resistance just flies right out the window with that tone...Christ, I’m bloody well screwed. Again. 

Spike’s thoughts turned to static as he thrust up as well as he could into Angel’s mouth, unable to hold his orgasm back even if he had wanted to, eyes fluttering shut as he spilled down the tight, cool throat. In the haze of his climax, he could only hope he would manage to keep from slipping and uttering that word that lay so heavy on his tongue, the one epithet that held the power to truly destroy him.

Angel barely kept himself from cumming along with Spike at the taste of his Childe, the lukewarm seed thick on his tongue, filling his senses and threatening to undo him. He slid back along the pulsing shaft, still suckling, eager to wring out every drop as Spike finally stilled his bucking hips, a steady stream of nonsense and curses falling from those perfect lips. Still tastes so fucking sweet, still feels so right, why did I ever give you up? I could destroy Angelus for hurting you so deeply, my beautiful William.

“Bloody hell, Angel.” 

Angel smirked up at Spike and ran his tongue over the head of the softening cock one last time as it slipped from his mouth. His heated gaze softened as he loomed back over Spike’s lax, panting, form, and he dipped his head to capture Spike’s lips, his tongue stroking into the cool cavern of his mouth as he came down from his climax. Trailing his lips along Spike’s jaw, he nipped his earlobe before pulling back to look down at the younger vampire.

“Can you turn over without pulling anything?”

“Think I can manage, yeah. Soon as my muscles stop bein’ jelly, anyway.” 

Angel chuckled softly and sat back to give Spike the space to roll onto his stomach, searching his face for any signs of pain. Content with his observations, he quickly grabbed the tube of lube from his nightstand before he positioned himself back over Spike, nuzzling his nose into the curve of his shoulder and kissing lightly up to a spot behind his ear Angel knew never failed to make him quiver.

"God, Angel…"

"Fuck, Will, I'm so sorry. For all of it." Angel whispered his lament into Spike's ear, feathering his skin with kisses as he spoke. "I'll never be able to make it up to you, will I?"

"I say again, pet, hush. You’re makin' up for it now, ain't ya? Don't fret on it now, just let it go, be here, with me." 

Angel pushed the guilt back again and continued his trailing path of kisses. He kissed along the nape of Spike’s neck, inhaling the clean scent of his hair, which was curling at the ends now that it was ungelled. If it had been a darker shade, he could have easily imagined that it was his William beneath him now, so full was his head of the past, of days that turned into nights as he took his pleasures from the younger vampire. 

He made his way back down Spike’s back, placing kisses along each knob of his spine, the soft sounds of his Childe's renewing desire spurring him on. Such levels of care and attention had rarely been bestowed upon the blonde, and Angel hated himself for ever denying this beautiful creature the worship he deserved. He lingered at the small of his back, licking the broad flat of his tongue across the smooth patch of pale skin. He could feel Spike tense in anticipation beneath him, so he lingered on the spot a moment longer until Spike let out a frustrated whimper. 

A smile tugging at his lips, he trailed his tongue further down, teasing the tip down between the enticing crevice that had so frequently been the center of his desire. He cupped both pale, smooth cheeks in his hands, spreading them open to reveal the hidden place he longed to bury himself into for eternity. When's the last time this perfect body was treated with the worship it deserves? 

"Angel, please…" Christ, do it, Angelus, lemme feel that soddingly perfect tongue on me again. Don't care if it damns me all over again, just love me the way you used to.

"Remember, don't move."

Angel lapped his tongue quickly over the puckered ring of muscle, pulling back to blow a cool breath over the wet flesh, his cock twitching in need as Spike shuddered deeply at the sensation. Leaning back in, he pressed his tongue against the clenching hole, licking over it until it slowly relaxed, feeling Spike trembling slightly as he resisted the need to move. Tensing his tongue, Angel pushed past the ring of muscle, groaning at the tightness surrounding it. Spike moaned at the resulting vibration, giving into the temptation to push back on the intrusion and whimpering quietly in apology to the responding growl of warning Angel let out against his skin.

"Can't help it, Peaches, feels so bloody good.” Always did. Gods, Angel, how’m I ever gonna recover from you? Won’t be able to run far enough away to get over you again. Bloody hell, never stopped being a right sap, have I? 

Spike let out another moan as Angel continued slowly thrusting his tongue into him, turning his head into the pillow, teeth worrying the fabric with a low growl as he fought the urge to push back again. Pressed into the mattress like this, his cock twitched feebly, trapped between his stomach and the bed, Angel’s small movements not rocking him forward enough to gain satisfying friction against the aching length. 

Christ, it’s only been a few minutes since I came, and already he’s got me ready to blow again. Just like a soddin’ fledge.

“Angel, please…need more, pet.”

Angel smiled against Spike’s loosening hole, reveling in the whimpering pleas he pulled from his Childe’s lips, pleased he still had such a rapid effect on him. He pushed back the still-lingering traces of guilt, focusing his attention on the needy vampire trembling beneath him, letting the scent and taste of him fill his senses. He pulled back until just the tip of his tongue was still within the clenching ring, letting his teeth scrape over the puckered flesh lightly. Keeping Spike pleasantly distracted, Angel blindly opened the bottle of lube and squeezed a moderate drop onto his fingers, rubbing them together to warm up the gel. His cock throbbed between his legs, weeping and desperate for relief, but this wasn't about him, this was about giving Spike back a bit of the loving attention he'd denied him for far too long. 

Slipping a slick digit in beside his teasing tongue, Angel eased his tongue out of the still-tight muscle and licked down along Spike's perineum, a soft gasp reaching his ears as he teased down over his full sac. How have I gone this long without those beautiful sounds? Thrusting his finger slowly into Spike’s hole as he mouthed over first one ball, then the other, Angel drew as many of those sweet sounds from his Childe as he could manage, eyelids fluttering closed to focus on the feel of him clenching and relaxing around his finger and the moans of need and pleasure filling his ears. 

Spike squirmed minutely under Angel’s taxing ministrations, trapped cock leaking profusely against his stomach as the elder vampire took his time opening him up, a second thick finger finally pushing into him. His mind swam with memories, lazy days where Angelus would wind him up for hours, mouth and fingers, and sometimes a toy or two, lavishing attention on his trembling body before finally fucking him into the mattress...or floor, or wall, any handy surface, really. Cor, 'm gonna mess these fancy sheets of his if he don't get on with it. Too bloody much, not enough...shite, wish I could just flip 'im over and have done with it. 

"Liam, please, can't take it, fuck me already. Please."

Shuddering at the plaintive whine, Angel lifted his head from between Spike’s legs, fingers crooking to press briefly against his prostate, and smirking at the deep growl of pleasure that rumbled in his chest, before pulling back to slide a third digit within the flexing hole. Testing the ring of muscle for stretch, he sat up, quickly slicking his cock with his free hand. Jesus, I've missed those words.

"Love it when you beg for me, Will."

Wanker. Tosser's bloody lucky I'm too soddin' desperate to...oh, who'm I kiddin'? I always end up beggin' for 'im. Stupid, bloody, thick cock o'his. Only he could turn me into a sodding pansy like this. 

Spike pressed his face back into the pillow, stifling any further pleas he may have made when Angel removed his fingers and he felt the long, thick, shaft of his cock sliding teasingly between his cheeks. A faint whimper managed its way past the barrier of fabric, Spike wriggling feebly, unable to push back against the firm hand on the small of his back holding him in place, and only then did Angel begin to slowly push into him. Spike turned his head to the side and let out a sighing moan as he felt the blunt head stretching him further than he’d been in a century. 

Christ, forgot how big the blighter was. Even those sausage fingers of his don’t bloody compare to this. Gods, I’ve missed this, missed that fat prick splittin’ me in two. Just enjoy this, Spike, enjoy it now, leave all the figurin out till later, when you’re healed up and can put some distance between ya. Oh…

“Fuck, Da, yesss…missed feeling your cock fill me up, ‘Gelus. So bloody good.”

Growling out a guttural groan as the head of his cock pushed past the ring of muscle, Angel’s eyes slipped shut again, hips pausing, mind grasping for control to not just slide into Spike in one quick thrust. It was taking all his willpower not to hurt him, not to bury himself to the hilt in the tight, willing, hole grasping his length and fuck his Childe into the mattress. Pushing back unhelpful memories of doing just that on too many occasions to count, Angel took an unnecessary breath, and chuckled quietly when Spike let out a growl of impatience.

Once more, Angel carefully draped himself over the blonde, pushing slowly into the slick hole as gently laid the bulk of his weight onto Spike’s upper back, taking care to not put too much pressure on his lower spine for fear of aggravating the injury. As he bottomed out, his heavy, aching balls brushing against Spike’s, he nuzzled into the curve of Spike’s neck, breathing in the scent of him as he let the blonde adjust to the stretch.

"Christ, Angel, if you don't bloody move…"

"Careful, boy, yer in no position to be making threats at me", Angel growled playfully into Spike's ear, blunt teeth scraping teasingly over the sensitive patch of skin just below his earlobe. A hint of the old brogue was present in Angel’s voice, and Spike let out a huff breath at the underlying commanding tone threaded through the gentle warning, followed immediately by a soft moan as Angel rocked forward slightly, the change in angle pressing the head of his cock against the younger vampire’s prostate. "We can go as fast 'n hard as ye want after yer healed up, I promise. But fer now, I'll go as slow as I need to not to hurt ye, Childe. Jesus, ye still smell so good, Will, feel so lovely, wrapped around my cock tight ye always were."

Spike shuddered beneath him, a large spurt of pre-cum pulsing out of him as Angel spoke, the brogue getting stronger than he’d heard from him in a long time, his deep, lilting voice pulling the past closer to the surface of his mind. Bloody hell, not that voice. Even in Sunnyhell he didn’t use that voice. Gods, how’m I supposed to resist that soddin’ brogue, never could before, can’t now. Not with his blood still singin’ in my veins. Christ, why did I think this was a good idea? Shoulda made him go out to kill stuff till the effects of the blood wore off…I’m so bloody buggered. Spike moaned as Angel dragged his tongue along his throat, and, pushing back the lingering fear of the Angelus that had neglected him in Sunnydale, followed Angel’s lead, giving in to the instincts he’d been fighting against so uselessly. He heard a soft, hungry growl as he tilted his head back further, giving Angel better access.

My boy. My sweet, lovely boy. Come back t’me, Will, be mine again. 

“God, I wanna taste ye again, William, wanna drain ye dry so ye can’ e’er leave.” Angel spoke against Spike’s skin, hands bracing on either side of his head as he lifted up slightly and began a painfully slow pace, his cock dragging through the tight, grasping channel until only the tip remained sheathed within the slick hole, and pushing forward just as slowly. Spike let out a keening whimper at Angel’s expressed desire and the feel of the thick shaft pressing back into him, his cock twitching against his stomach as his orgasm loomed closer. “Oh, so feckin’ tight, Childe. Missed this perfect arse a’yers, little one, ye've no idea.” 

Bite me, bite me, bite me. Want it, need it. Please…

"Please, Da, Angel, don't stop. Need to cum, lemme cum, Sire, please."

Spike stretched his neck out further in silent offering, hoping to hear the tell-tale grind of bones that signaled the shift into game face. Groaning, Angel thrust in again, trying to ignore the obvious invitation Spike was presenting him; he was close enough to the edge as it was with the feel and scent of him surrounding him and the memory of that small taste of his blood from earlier still lingering. If he bit Spike now, there'd be no doubt about how quickly it would be over. He angled his hips on the next thrust to brush over Spike’s prostate, relishing the deep moan the action elicited from his lips.

Picking up his pace as much as safely possible without hurting the blonde, Angel closed his eyes against the onslaught of sensations as Spike clenched around him again, wanting to stave off his climax, needing to keep this connection just a little longer. Spike, desperate for the bite and the relief that would come with it, slipped a hand beneath Angel's, twinning their fingers together in a crushing grasp, and pushed back on to the thick cock thrusting into him as hard as his limited position would allow. Angel growled out a startled warning and Spike breathed a sigh of relief as the crunching sound of Angel’s face shifting followed, the feel of fangs scraping lightly over his skin zinging a fresh surge of arousal down to his throbbing cock. 

Need it, want it. Bite him, bite him, bite him. Now.

“Not gonna last, Spike, feels too good, if I draw it out much longer, I’ll lose control." The brogue vanished as Angel fought back the demon's need to claim the younger vampire completely, fangs itching to tear into the pale neck beneath his lips. "Oh, God, Will, need to…"

"Do it, Angel. Bite me, please. Want you to." Spike squeezed Angel's hand, his other scrabbling around to the back of his head to hold him firmly against his neck. Knowing the words Angel likely needed to hear for him to finally let go, Spike lowered his voice to a husky whisper, "take me, Sire, take me and make me cum."

Spike barely heard the low snarl before he let out a shout of ecstasy as Angel's fangs pierced his skin the same moment his cock thrust into him again, the feeling of that first gulp of blood being pulled from his veins sending him careening into orgasm. His cock pulsed against his stomach, soaking the sheet beneath him as he came in forceful spurts, the hand cupping Angel’s head tensing to hold him in place. He wanted to buck and thrash in Angel’s primal embrace, but could do no more than writhe in small, jerking movements as the brunette latched on tighter and pinned him to the mattress. 

As the first taste of that too-familiar blood hit his tongue, Angel felt Spike clamp down around him, pulling him inevitably into climax. The firm hand against the back of his head kept him from withdrawing his fangs as rope after rope of cool seed filled the clenched hole, the squeeze of muscles around his pulsing cock, and the sweet, thick blood filling his mouth, drawing out his orgasm. He swallowed another mouthful of Spike’s blood before he remembered himself, and merely lapped at the stray trickles that welled up around his embedded fangs. 

As his orgasm subsided, Spike released his hold on Angel’s head, his other hand still entwined with the elder’s, and sank into the mattress, boneless, too wrung-out and sated to care about the mess beneath him. Bloody hell, did I say I was buggered? How’m I supposed to go back to not having mind-blowing sex like that again? No one’s ever made me cum as hard as he does. Gods, it’s gonna hurt to leave.

Angel felt Spike go lax underneath him as his climax abated, and he carefully lowered himself to cover as much of the relaxed body as he safely could, his fangs retracting from the wound as he pulled his demon face back in. He laved his tongue over the puncture, savoring the final drops of blood as it quickly closed up. It had taken every ounce of control to keep the demon in check, to refrain from reclaiming the younger vampire completely. He’d wanted to rip into that beautiful throat, blot out Dru’s Siring mark, and leave his own in its place. The demon wanted to leave no doubt to anyone that the boy was his once more. I was so close to giving in, so close to making him my Will again. Would’ve been so easy to pretend that’s what he meant, what he wanted. Jesus, I know I don’t deserve it yet, but that’s what I want. I want him to be mine again. Need him to be mine again. If he walks out of here, out of my life, once he’s better…how can I go back? Back to being alone, with no one to understand, no one who knows what it’s like to exist like this. How can I go back to being without the one creature the demon actually cared about as much as the soul? 

Nuzzling into Spike’s neck one last time, Angel eased his spent length from the friction-warmed hole that still periodically clenched around him, sitting up and rolling himself off of Spike’s prone form, flopping onto his back with a soft, wistful sigh. His arm stretched across his chest to keep his hand ensnared within Spike’s. Staring up at the ceiling, he pushed back the urge to brood further on the dilemma of losing Spike again and let himself enjoy the moment. 

Spike turned his head towards Angel, forcing himself to put all the gloomy thoughts swirling in his head aside and just enjoy the afterglow, a peaceful look of contentment on his face. Taking in the sight of his fucked-out Grandsire, he let a soft purr rumble in his chest, his smile becoming more genuine as Angel met his gaze with sleepy, chocolate eyes. 

“Picked a shite time to give up smoking; never a better time for a fag than after a good rogering.”

Angel let out a quiet chuckle and reached over with his free hand to cuff the back of Spike’s head lightly before sitting up. With one last squeeze of his fingers, Angel disentangled their hands and climbed out of the bed. 

Refusing to let his thoughts take over, he made his way to the kitchen and set a few bags of blood to heat in the microwave. As the blood warmed, Angel wet a couple washcloths, using one to wipe himself off cursorily. When the microwave dinged, he took out a pair of mugs from the cabinet, poured the blood, doubling Spike’s  to make up for what he took and the exertion they'd expended. Slipping into game face for a second, he pricked his finger on a fang and let a small trickle of his blood mix into one of the mugs until the wound healed. Not enough to cause much of an outward effect, but enough to accelerate Spike’s healing while they slept. Grabbing the mugs and the spare cloth, he headed back to the bedroom.

Keeping his mind away from thoughts of his lonely future, Spike kept an ear on Angel's movements around the penthouse, the smell of blood hitting his nose and making his stomach rumble. Even though he may not have been able to move much, it seemed he still had spent quite a bit of the pent-up energy gained from days of endless sleep. Of course, earth-shattering orgasms could do that to a person. 

He heard Angel returning to the bedroom and turned his head to watch him set the mugs down on the nightstand. The elder vampire walked out of sight, and Spike let out a soft gasp when he felt the warm, wet, washcloth brush gently between his buttcheeks. He felt a small pang of regret as Angel wiped away the cum that had yet to make its way down to join his own sticky spend that had already seeped into the sheets, sad that he couldn't have kept some part of the brunette inside him a little longer, something to keep that connection from fading, to prove it had happened. Stepping back into his field of vision, Angel nudged him lightly.

"Roll over."

Spike couldn’t keep the irritation out of his voice as he wiggled around on the bed until he was on his back.

"Wan' me to sit up an' beg, too?"

"Well, your name is Spike. And you do kinda play dead pretty well." Angel smirked down at Spike as he leaned over him and began cleaning off his stomach. The snarky banter was something they were both used to, and well-practiced at, and it helped dispel some of the post-coital tension they could both feel charging the air. He winked at the prone blonde. "Besides, I think you already did the begging part. Think I like that best of all your tricks, Rover."

"Prat."

"Brat."

"Poof."

"Goof."

Spike glared at him as he straightened up and set the cloth down.

"Ponce."

"Nonce."

"No, that would be you, pet", Spike quipped, earning him a growl. He stuck his tongue out at Angel to ease the anger he could see growing on his scowling face. When the scowl lightened, he continued the little game, feeling the need to trip his Grandsire up. “Prick.”

“Dick.”

“Arsehole.”

Spike grinned impishly as Angel’s brow furrowed in consternation.

“Ah, can’t think of a rhyme for arsehole, can ya, Peaches? Now, we done with the name callin’, or do I ‘ave to break out the big guns? Mind, I am hungry an’ more than a bit knackered from our bit of exercise, but I’m sure I can still recall quite a few of the choice words that used to really stick in your craw.”

Angel rolled his eyes and shook his head with a fond chuckle.

“I give, okay, Spike? Now, here,” Angel picked up the mugs, handing one to Spike and sipping from the other, “drink your blood and go to sleep like a good little vampire, okay? Fred’ll be here in about eight hours, which gives us just enough time for a decent rest and maybe another bath before we have to go down to the labs.”

“Like smellin’ like you”, Spike muttered into his mug, a trace of petulance coloring his voice. “An’ it’s not like little Freddie’s human nose can smell it. Already got the sticky stuff off.” 

Angel studied Spike’s face as he drank, the blondes eyes hooded and darting away as he grumbled. 

“Fine, I could do with the extra hour of sleep, anyway.”

Draining his mug and setting it down, he walked around the bed to the other side and climbed under the sheets, rolling onto his side, still watching Spike as he finished his blood and set his own mug beside Angel’s. Waiting. 

“You really gonna make me sleep in the wet spot, mate? Some Sire you are.” 

Angel growled in mock-anger and tugged Spike against his chest as quickly as he could manage without upsetting his injury. Another rumbling purr started in Spike’s chest as he pressed back against Angel, snuggling into the welcome embrace. Right little pansy, I am. Oh, well, said I’d enjoy it while it lasts, so why the bloody hell not, right?  

Angel returned the purr, dipping his head to nose along the curve of Spike’s neck, pressing a chaste kiss below his ear. 

“I like you smelling like me, too, Childe. Now, sleep.”

Spike’s purr faltered as the possessive statement sank in, and returned louder in pleased tranquility as he let his full belly, his sated libido, and Angel’s arms around him, lull him to sleep.

~~~~~~

All Things Spike: @leatafanfiction

Spangel Only: @highonbandcandy

#spangel #mendings major and minor #a:ts fanfic #buffyverse fanfic #lemon

[tartagilicious]

forgive me i can’t stop making gavin playlists

these chapters literally managed to wreck me twice. twice. I knew full well what was going to happen but even so — 😔 as you’ll probably see, a good number of these songs are about finding someone again, or stepping into a new life, because I was definitely focusing on that part of the story. it’s angsty and fun lol

anyway, when the mc gained the ability to reach the black cabin again, I chose gavin to have a reunion with first, of course, (that’s what I was babbling on about last night) and oh my, it’s so adorable!! 🥺 I think that’s the first time he’s blatantly hugged her like that, and I- sir, take my heart, I don’t need it anymore— I really wish that this was more of a romance game smh, I need that gavin fix more often. I hope that when the ending of the game does come, it’s similar to how chapter 24 works, and you can end with one of the four leads you choose. 

shoulder to shoulder by Tate McRae 

“give me tears and I’ll give you tissues, I’m always with you, I miss you when you go. give me years and I’ll be here listening, I’m always with you, I hope you always know.”

anyone else by PVRIS

“I could touch a hundred thousand souls, but none of them would ever feel like home. and no matter how far and wide I roam, you are the only one I’ll ever know. I don’t belong to anyone else.”

dangerous city by dvsn + ty dolla $ign

“in the dangerous city, it’s better if you come here to me. seems every day  it’s getting worse up in the city, but baby it’s safer with me because they know me. the only crime you’ll ever face is feeling lonely.”

where we come alive by Ruelle 

“I can see the future painted in my eyes. open up the door and fade into the light, dive into a world I know, take my hand and follow me into the sun.”

youth by Shawn Mendes + Khalid

“My heart is broken, but I keep going. Pain, but I won’t let it turn into hate, no I won’t let it change me. never losing sight of the one I keep inside, now I know it — you can’t take my youth away, this soul of mine will never break.”

don’t forget about me by CLOVES

“is it true that you’re watching out? and when I’m tired, do you lay down with me in my head so I can sleep without you? without you there’s holes in my soul. where have you gone? I just need to know that you won’t forget about me.”

heart of darkness by Tommee Profitt

“you feel your body shake, fear like a phantom waits.here we are in the heart of the darkness, hold fast we must be brave, in the heart of the darkness. the quiet, it swallows us. what’s waiting around the corner?”

soldier by Fleurie 

“soldier keep on marching on, head down til the work is done. you wanna take a drink of that promised land, you gotta wipe the dirt off of your hands, careful son, you’ve got a dreamer’s plan.”

find you by Mark Diamond

“love I will find you, I will search til I’m sore. until you are all mine again, and I am all yours. face the sea, cast a wish, from your western balcony. if you need me, you know where I’ll be — I’ll be in your heart.”

don’t give up on me by Andy Grammer

“I will fight. I will fight for you. I always do, until my heart is black and blue. And I will stay. I will stay with you. We’ll make it to the other side like lovers do. I’ll reach my hands out in the dark and wait for yours to interlock. I’ll wait for you, ‘cause I’m not giving up on you.”

on your side by The Veronicas

“if we knew then what we do now, we’d hold our hands and take a bow. together we would stand our ground and fight. I remember the night we got drunk, I was sick on the subway. With your hands in my face said, “it don’t matter, babe, ‘cause I’m always on your side.”

walk through the fire by Zayde Wolf + Ruelle

“did we take too many chances? did we let too many pass us? did we throw it all away? we walk through the fire. Is there a way out? I try to understand how we’re again, in the middle of the storm.”

#mr love queen’s choice #mlqc #mr love #mr love queen’s choice gavin #mlqc gavin #mr love gavin #love and producer #love and producer bai qi #恋与制作人 白起 #恋与制作人 #mlqc playlist #mr love queen’s choice playlist #mr love playlist #otome #otome games #music

[falloutforties]

Five Years (Deacon x Sole)

CHAPTER ONE: TOTAL ATOMIC ANNIHILATION!

Description: The second she crawled out of that vault, dead cockroach meat in her pocket and tongue still not completely thawed, she knew she didn’t have to lie anymore. No more candy-striped wallpaper coating the halls, no more perfect wife and mother. She was no one. She was everyone. She didn’t sugarcoat her feelings, she didn’t hold her tongue. And it wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate that honesty, it’s that he had to mix in his honesty with a little sweet prevarication, like rum and coke-- but she was straight vodka, and he was starting to feel a little dizzy. Set in a world in which David Bowie did exist at one time, because the author can’t imagine a world in which he didn’t.

Warnings: Swearing and some fighting as well, but aside from that, no real warnings. I’m shit at writing angst, so there’s none of that. Slow burn, all chapters already written, hopefully one chapter a week unless grad school totally swamps me. Also, there are several elements of this story that are little fix-its for me, because todd really made me try to care about a son and husband smh. I was running around the wasteland like “why does everybody keep talking about my son? The only son I know is named Dogmeat, and he is a Good Boy.” ALSO because todd won’t let me romance Deacon. 

Note from the Author: Hi folks! I wrote this to help me get through my writing block and because I needed a lil comfort in these trying times, so I figured I would make this blog to share it. I’m in the process of also putting it on ao3, but this is the first fanfic I’ve ever written so I’m not sure how this all works. I hope y’all enjoy!!!! This story gets started a little slow because I wanted to give an introduction for how I interpret the sole survivor’s personality and such. Pls let me know if you like this, and if you want to read more!! Love you!! <3

When she woke up in the morning, she knew the exact percentage of how likely she was to die that day, down to the decimal. It was not like a superpower, per se, just a sixth sense. An awareness, she might call it. She was incredibly aware of herself.

She couldn’t sense this clearly in other people, though she did have a sense of it. A vague direction as to how closely they’ll come to seeing their entire life flash before their eyes. She had seen it once or twice in Nate’s eyes over the breakfast table— a tint of green in his brown eyes that wasn’t there the day before, almost like a warning.

Something’s going to happen. It might not be bad, or it might be terrible. But it’s something.

She watched him turn his nose up at the box of Sugar Bombs sat on the countertop, favoring instead a cup of coffee and half a tato. She waited patiently for him to start his bi-weekly diatribe against the Sugar Bombs Corporation and their devious aims against the children of the Commonwealth.

“Did you know there’s a Sugar Bombs factory in Beijing?” He’d mentioned, several months ago for the first time. She was honestly just excited to hear that he’d managed to establish a new argument, though she wasn’t convinced that the Sugar Bombs factory in Beijing was a direct link to Childhood Communism as much as it was just outright standard capitalism.

When he finally settled at the table with his half-tato in one hand, coffee in the other, and Boston Bugle folded neatly under his arm, she watched his eyes. He was looking a little green, and she wondered errantly if perhaps he’d be scraped by a car while crossing the street. She herself, however, was at a solid 15%, which was a little higher than her standard measurements, but nothing out of the ordinary or concerning. Perhaps she would break a finger, sprain her ankle, crack a tooth on a Nuka-Cola bottle.

She appreciated the extra air of danger.

Life in Sanctuary was beautifully but painfully dull, less dull now that there was a child in the house, but dull nonetheless. Now, the stale quiet that usually settled over the house in the afternoon was permeated by the frequent cries and laughs of the child and the exclamations of their brand new housekeeper, who thought the child was a marvel of modern science.

He was, at the very moment his parents were eating breakfast, sleeping in his crib in the back room, the powder blue of his walls shielding him like a personal sky as he went completely unaware of everyone around him. He had the enviable manner of a child, crying whenever he felt a slight discomfort, laughing at the simplest of things.

She wished sometimes she could burst into tears just because she was hungry, or weep at the thought of being sleepy. It had been so long since someone had properly addressed her humanity that she thought if someone held her against their chest, she’d fall asleep, just like the child did at night when she rocked him.

“Mum,” Codsworth chirped as he hovered into the kitchen with a wet rag in one hand and a rattle in the other.

“Morning, Codsworth,” she replied with a mouth full of cereal. She, unlike Nate, was not too good for Sugar Bombs, and if they were implanting Communist Tracking Chips into her brain, well, that was a risk she was going to have to take. As long as she was the one who had to do the grocery shopping, she was not going to deny herself the simple pleasure of marshmallow cereal.

“Young Shaun should be asleep for approximately the next two hours.”

“Thank you, Codsworth.”

Nora loved Codsworth. There were days when she thought of him more as a husband than Nate. Codsworth, in his thrumming metallic voice, asked her everyday how she was feeling. Nate sometimes quirked his brow at her, and she nodded in response, but their marital conversation was frustratingly dry.

Like Sugar Bombs without milk.

Chip Harris was grandstanding on the news, and his thick croon filled the background of the house with a pleasant sort of domestic white noise along with the gentle clink of her silverware and the crinkling of Nate’s paper. She tuned her ears for a moment to Chip’s voice as he read from a teleprompter about some new information about China’s secret nuclear plants.

Everyone has nukes nowadays, she thought bitterly. Her Sugar Bombs were now soggy. Why are we allowed to hide them, but China has to send us a report or else we accuse them of some kind of crime?

She absentmindedly wondered if having a crush on the newscaster might turn her into more of a nuclear housewife. She knew Natalie Hawthorne had a crush on Chip Harris. She watched him every morning, even had a signed picture of him that she kept in her nightstand. Mr. Hawthorne was fine with it, of course, because no one in Sanctuary Hills could even prove that Chip Harris was real. No one could prove that he wasn’t just an incredibly advanced Protectron— a Mr. Handy in a pinstripe suit. Mr. Hawthorne didn’t have to worry about Chip Harris stealing his wife.

A knock on the door broke Nora’s concentration.

“Must be that sales guy,” Nate intoned, obviously bored senseless by the notion of a salesman at the door. “He’s been asking for you all morning.”

“All morning? I didn’t even hear him knock before now.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you sleep until 9 AM.”

Thank you, Nora, for staying up until the Devil’s Ass-Crack of dawn comforting a weeping child. Thank you for feeding him while I put earplugs in and turned over to the cold side of the pillow so I could go back to sleep. I answered the door for you, and the salesman gave me a free ticket to Fuck-Off-Ville, and I’m taking the child with me. You and Codsworth have fun now!

A woman could dream.

The salesman at the door was a weasel-looking fellow with an awfully mustardy-colored coat and matching hat. His smile seemed like it might be genuine, but based on the wrinkles that beamed from the corners of his eyes, it seemed he was well-versed in faking a good smile.

“Good afternoon, Ma’am! I am glad you took the time to answer the door today, because what I am about to tell you is a matter of utmost importance,” he promised, his smile somehow extended as he emphasized utmost importance.

“Utmost importance, huh? Glad I answered the door, then.”

“As you should be. Because of your family’s service in the military, you are eligible for entrance into the local vault— Vault 111!”

She eyed him warily before glancing up towards the hill at the end of the cul-de-sac. She had remembered the day Vault-Tec had started construction into the hillside, promising the neighborhood that “We won’t work until 9 AM, we’ll be gone in a flash, and you and your family will soon be protected in the unlikely event of total atomic annihilation!”

She didn’t buy the working until 9 AM part, she was skeptical about them being gone in a flash, and she hadn’t taken the time to assess the thought of total atomic annihilation. That was something that happened to people in the movies, or on radio shows, not in Sanctuary Hills. Total atomic annihilation might actually spice up her life, if it deigned to come close to Sanctuary Hills.

“Thanks,” she mentioned passively, ignoring the clipboard that was slowly being edged towards her. “My family too?”

“Yes, of course! Except the robot, mind you. Would you mind taking a few moments to fill out some paperwork?”

Nora turned her head to eye the situation inside the house before accepting the clipboard. If the salesman had knocked before, there was no reason to send him away then. He was working hard, and she appreciated the thought if not the persistence.

“Excellent! Now you and your family are… Prepared for the Future!”

She gave a half-hearted laugh at the way he performed his reading of the motto— the Vault-Tec promise that had been broadcasted via billboard all over every cityscape and neighborhood nearby. If total atomic annihilation never came around, Vault-Tec was sure going to look foolish.

She shut the door and sauntered back over to the breakfast table, but just as she sat down, a cry rang through the house. Shaun was awake, and Nate was eyeing her above the folded edge of his paper.

“Mum!” Codsworth chirped once again, hovering back into the kitchen. “Young Shaun seems to be inconsolable. Would you mind using some of that… maternal instinct you seem to be so good at?”

“Sure, Codsworth. Thank you.”

Once the door was closed in Shaun’s little room, she felt a great weight lift from her shoulders. True, she had not liked the child at first, but he was growing on her, and she appreciated the fact that he had to listen to everything she said without commentary or judgement.

“You might be unsure now, but once that beautiful baby boy is handed to you in a pretty blue blanket, you’ll love him more than you’ve ever loved anything,” Natalie Hawthorne had told her at the baby shower in a moment of vulnerability. Nora had escaped the Hawthorne’s living room to cry in their bathroom, marking it up to hormones at first, but the second she looked in the mirror and saw that damned stomach of hers, the crying got worse. Natalie stumbled into the bathroom by accident, catching Nora in the midst of a coughing fit.

So, Nora waited until Shaun was born, and when the nurse handed him to her, she stared at him and felt absolutely nothing. But she cooed and tickled his tiny feet, promising to herself that if she could just get the child home, maybe it would get better. Maybe it was the anesthetic and the drugs that made her so emotionless. It wasn’t.

It was the fact that she hadn’t wanted a child at all, the fact that she hadn’t even really wanted a husband, but her parents had set her up with some soldier boy, fresh out of a set of power armor, and that was that. She would marry Nate because it was what she was supposed to do, not because she had fallen in love.

She adjusted Shaun’s cap before scooping him into her arms.

“What do you have to cry about?” She muttered to the child. “You don’t have to pay taxes. You’re not going to have to wear heels and go grocery shopping and attend baby showers. You’re going to play catch in the backyard with your father, and then one day, some girl will marry you because she has to. You’re set for life, little buddy.”

Shaun merely gargled something, his hands grabbing for her hair. He was like a partially-sentient diary. She would pile her troubles on him, and he would go, “Ah!” And then go back to sleep.

“I was thinking we could go to the park today,” Nate remarked as he stepped into the nursery. “Would you be interested?”

“Sure, sure. Might be nice to get some fresh air.” She had intended to say more, perhaps something about finishing her Halloween preparations, but when she turned to him, she saw his eyes fully for the first time that day, and Shaun nearly slipped from her grasp.

“Woah, woah, hey,” Nate took the child from her arms. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I just… are you feeling alright?”

“Fine. You look pale, though. Maybe it’s all that Chinese Cereal.”

She chuckled despite herself and maintained eye contact with as much focus as she could muster. His eyes were near fully green. She was sure it was nothing. It had to be nothing. They were going for a walk in the park, and besides, her percentage was still standing at a solid 15%. It was nothing.

But Chip Harris knew more than she did, and when Codsworth called them all into the living room, Chip Harris was, for the first time on the air, misty-eyed. His head was in his hands, the morning report discarded as he faced the camera with shaking eyes.

“Shit,” Nora whispered, and Nate scolded her for her foul mouth. “Sorry, I just… is this it?”

“I think this is it.”

“Whatever it is, I will certainly miss you all dearly. Sir, Mum, Young Shaun. I believe this is goodbye.”

Codsworth’s goodbye started her heart thrumming at an unbelievable pace, and she kicked into gear, sweeping herself up from the loveseat and rushing towards the door, ushering Nate and Shaun behind her.

This was it. This was the end of the world, but it wasn’t going to kill her.

#deacon x sole survivor #deacon fo4 #female sole survivor #fallout 4 fanfiction #fo4 fanfic #fallout 4 deacon #fo4 deacon #deacon x nora

[theroseiris]

I can't believe season 5 will be over next week? Because I feel we're still waiting for things to HAPPEN? Like:

For Barry and Iris to have an "in character" moment and think about future!Iris and how she needs her daughter, too? They talk about how worried she is about Nora because she left her after their big fight. They wonder if did Nora visit her mom between all the times she was visiting Eobard, to talk to her and tell her she understands why she kept her powers a secret and she forgive her or did she not even think about her mom and how scared and alone she is in the future thinking she lost her daughter too?

We never got future!Iris' POV and story.

For westallen to remember they are a couple and act like they used to. Also they need to talk about Nora and how she effected their lives and how she effected them personally + as a couple (in a good way & a bad way bc her visit to the past messed them up emotionally)

Waiting for Nora to stop throwing tantrums and finally act her age for more than one episode, maybe? So we can enjoy her and get to know the 27 years old woman.

Nora appreciating her mother and talking to Iris about how much she loves her for more than one scene/episode & stop acting like Barry is the only parent who matters.

A dinner with Iris, Barry, Nora, Joe, Wally & Cecile.

Barry being the main hero of the show and he finally saves the day by himself without needing any help from the team.

No more floor naps for Barry/The Flash during big fights, smh.

Iris interviewing her first employee and we see them work together in her office and outside.

Iris talking to Barry about her newspaper and her dreams and how excited she is for the next chapter of her career.

Barry admitting that he now really understands how his emotions controls him just like Nora and how hard it is for Iris to deal with it & he apologize for always doing that to her and he promise her that this time he will be better, he'll grow up and learn his lesson.

Barry talking to Iris again about how he wants to have a family with her & he will do everything he can to make that happy future come true.

For Barry and Iris to be young & not act like they're a *50 years old parents who are excited that their 30 years old daughter who never calls or visit is finally home and they are babying her bc they don't want her to get mad & leave.*

They talk about Barry's disappearing?????

WestAllen couch scenes.

WestAllen talks.

WestAllen romance.

Soft WestAllen.

A pregnancy talk that ends with them deciding to NOT get pregnant bc obv Barry is not ready yet to be a father and Iris is scared of becoming a mother and failing, so they need time before they deal with all that again.

NO pregnant Iris.

No!! Pregnant!!! Iris!!!!

But I guess this is it? This season is over. Without them trying to fix any of the annoying & ooc writing.

#westallen #iris west allen #barry allen #the flash #another list of things that will never happen lol :( #my post #season 5

[shishka]

Even numbers for the JoJo's ask.

(eggman voice) i cant BELIEVE this,

2. Who is your favorite Jobro?im like still not clear on who is the bro for each part (or just 3/5 idk) but ill give this to my boy caesarino 🧼💋 (shishka from the future: its gyro now)

4. What is your favorite op?coda could sing the fucken alphabet and it would be my fave theme

6. Which is the best animal?umm weathers snails idk 🐌🐌🐌

8. Which is your favorite Zeppeli?im not far enough into 7 to say but itll prob still be caesar (shishka from the future: nope, gyro started singing about cheese and i,)

10. Manga or anime?havent read enough of the manga to say

12. Part you’d like more chapters of?more of part 6 bc im livid @ that ending. canon fix it fic. let giorno go to florida.also for part 4 i was chotto annoyed that koichi got so much spotlight like there are 500 other characters that coulda had their own eps but instead we got koichi chillin with his dubcon ass gf or whatever so how bout some eps about. someone the fuck else.

14. Red Fugo or green Fugo?red is best he is my strawberry boy 🍓

16. Do you think Mikitaka was an alien or stand user?alien i saw him at area 51 eating ass. next. 🤟👽

18. Favorite enemy stand?[done]

20. What do you think is the most powerful stand?weather report for real,

22. Do you think any characters deserved a different stand?aight listen up… okuyasu’s stand is the hand. what is yoshikage kira’s favorite thing… 👏👏👏

24. Which jojo would you get along with the most?im taking my son josuke to the britney spears concert

26. Which character do you think added most to the show?i think jonathan had the most impact bc dio still cant get over him. boy u need to move on.

28. Favorite manga scene?(only read part 6) jolyne being horny on mainwen weather says to jolyne “you want to piss?” wen anasui threw a fit about mickey mouseweather and anasui crawling out of a pianoanything with weather and anasui really, the dream team,

30. Least favorite arc?idk but i can tell u that my least fave episodes were the fucken alessi ass shit im scarred polnareff smh

32. Saddest character death for you?araki rly speedruns death so its hard to feel sad for too long, but jonathans hurt the most he literally did not deserve any of that and was the kindest soul

#txt

[swimmingwolf59]

Until I Turn to Dust

(A/N) I can't believe it took me until my last fic to include Declan and Matthew smh It's been so much fun writing for pynch week this year!!!! The prompts were fun and it was cool to see what everyone else's takes on them were as well~ THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING, COMMENTING, AND PROVIDING SUCH AMAZING SUPPORT IN GENERAL I CAN'T THANK YOU ALL ENOUGH <3 You gave me the motivation I needed to actually sort of stay on schedule xD;;

I really hope you enjoy the final fic, and thank you so much again!! :')

P.S. The Script song I used for the quote and the title of this chapter is very pynch in my opinion, please check it out!!

I fell for you and I never got up

I stay here forever ‘til I turn to dust

Just take every minute make it last for life

24/7 baby 3-6-5.

-“The Energy Never Dies” by The Script

Every moment of his waking life, and often his sleeping one too, Ronan feels like he has accidentally stumbled upon happiness.

He never thought he would meet someone like Gansey, who sticks with him even through all of Ronan’s worst hours, who was and always will be the friend that Ronan has needed more than anything. He never thought he would meet someone like Blue, who challenges him every day for being an asshole by also being an asshole, something he didn’t realize he loves as much as he does until she came into his life. He never thought he would start to get along with Declan, that he would actually maybe look forward to the times when all three Lynch brothers can be together.

And most of all, he never would’ve thought in a million years that he would meet someone like Adam Parrish. Someone who is so bright and sarcastic, someone who was given the shittiest hand in the entire world and through pure grit and determination got himself to someplace better. Someone who can and dares to fight back with Ronan but then can also pick him out of the dust and remains of his worst fears and give him something to hold onto. He’s been in love with Adam for two whole years, and not once during that entire time did he think he would ever get to kiss him. That Adam would kiss him back. That Adam goddamn Parrish would say yes when he asked him out.

But he did.

It hits Ronan especially hard in the early hours of the morning, when he’s watching Adam sleep peacefully beside him, that he is so incredibly lucky to have stumbled upon this kind of pure and relentless happiness. Just earlier, Adam had let Ronan leave kisses all over his body, especially his hands, and he’d blown Ronan so hard that minutes after he could still see nothing but stars and Adam Adam Adam. Ronan learned that Adam looks gorgeous with sweat sticking his bangs to his forehead and with that tiny little smile that Adam saves just for him. Ronan also learned that Adam is extremely ticklish on his ribcage, something that he plans to take full advantage of in the future.

He feels blessed every moment that Adam Parrish has let him be this close to him, for allowing him to love him and to be loved in return. Ronan is closer to Adam than anyone else has been before, he’s pretty sure, and it blows his mind.

It’s literally the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

When he wakes up that Sunday morning, Adam is practically sprawled on top of Ronan—not an unusual occurrence, considering that Adam’s mattress is the smallest thing in the entire universe—and Ronan has never felt so content and happy. There’s drool drying on his shoulder where Adam’s head lolls and one of his knobby knees is digging uncomfortably into Ronan’s thigh, but he never wants to move again. Adam smells like his pine-scented aftershave and oil and his warmth against Ronan is perfect enough to make him think he died and went to heaven.

Because this would be his heaven – getting to lie in bed with Adam for all of eternity, drawing his fingers gently through his incredibly silky hair and admiring his beautiful hands.

There is no place he would rather be so he refuses to get up, even though he knows Declan and Matthew will be here soon for church and that he actually needs to put a suit on. Instead he entertains himself by counting the freckles on Adam’s shoulder blades. He keeps losing track and having to start over again, but he’s at ninety-three when someone knocks concisely on the door, rousing Adam.

It’s obviously Declan, so Ronan stubbornly remains in bed as he calls out, “It’s open!”

Declan walks in, scans the room for a moment, and then swears and puts a hand over his eyes. “Jesus, you didn’t warn me you were indecent!”

“I’m always indecent,” Ronan snorts as a very sleepy Adam rolls off him and nearly onto the floor in an attempt to get up. “Relax, it’s not like we’re naked.”

A blessing that only occurred because Adam had predicted last night that they would not be able to wake up and get dressed before Ronan’s brothers appeared. Ronan loves how right Adam is about these things.

“What time is it?” Adam asks between a loud yawn that gives Ronan an amazing view of his teeth and bruised lips.

For this first time in his entire life, Ronan kind of wants to skip church.

“Nine – Ronan should’ve been ready ten minutes ago,” Declan says irritably, hands on his hips.

“We’re above the church, it’ll literally take us ten seconds to get down there,” Ronan argues as he pulls himself off of Adam’s mattress and pokes around the room in search of his dress pants. He knows he brought them to Adam’s place last night, but he lost track of them in the heat of the moment.

“And yet we’re still going to be late!” Declan snaps.  

Ronan ignores him and, finally finding his pants, starts to get dressed. Matthew, ever the ball of sunshine and never one to be deterred by his older brothers’ bickering, dashes into the apartment and nearly tackles Adam to the floor in what must be a spine-crushing hug. “Adam, my man! Are you joining us today?”

“No, I have some homework to catch up on,” Adam says as he awkwardly pats Matthew’s head. The idea of church has always been a little bit uncomfortable for Adam, Ronan knows, but he’s pretty sure he’s the only one who picks up on the uncertainty in his tone. “Say hi to Ms. Bertha for me, though.”

Ronan snorts loudly. “Ms. Bertha! Everything’s always about Ms. Bertha.”

He doesn’t actually have anything against the old lady; she’s been kind to Adam, like secretly leaving food on his doorstep or bringing him clothes she convinces him no one else will take, methods that Ronan greatly approves of. It’s just that every time he talks to her now she asks him things like: “How is Adam today?” or “Are you treating Adam well, Ronan? That boy deserves the world.” And while Ronan agrees, it’s fucking annoying; he hates having to talk about his feelings for Adam, especially to other people. It’s embarrassing.

Adam, knowing all of this, just smirks at him. His bedhead and the still sleepy look in his eyes makes Ronan want to pounce him. “You jealous, Lynch?”

“No, why? Should I be? Didn’t know you were into old hags, Parrish.”

Adam throws a pillow at him, making Ronan snicker. Declan scoffs loudly and taps the expensive watch on his wrist impatiently. “As riveting as this old married couple bickering is, we’re late, Ronan!”

“Christ, calm the fuck down will you?” Ronan snaps back, irritably tugging his tie on. “I’m ready, I’m ready – it only took me like two minutes!”

“And yet you can still never bother to be on time!” Declan rolls his eyes before grabbing Matthew and pulling him out the door. “Come on then!”

Ronan’s about to follow, complaining all the way of course, when Adam suddenly grabs his shoulder. “Wait.”

“Can’t get enough of me, Parrish?” Ronan teases, leaning into Adam and wrapping his arms around his waist.

Adam rolls his eyes, but doesn’t gift Ronan with the satisfaction of an answer. Instead, he just starts fixing his tie, his long fingers making deft work of the shimmery fabric. “You’ve been going to church every week of your life and you still can’t tie your tie properly.”

“It’s a fashion statement,” Ronan retorts, deciding to be annoying by attempting to kiss Adam while he straightens his tie.

“You’re a menace,” Adam says, making Ronan cackle. But suddenly Adam is pulling him forward by his tie, leaving a firm kiss on his lips. Ronan stares at him in wonder, his knees starting to wobble at the suggestive smirk on Adam’s face. “You’re much more attractive when your tie is on straight, though.”

“…Why do you always do this when I have to leave, Parrish?” Ronan groans, reaching up to tangle his fingers in Adam’s hair as he kisses him desperately.

“You only ever dress up when you’re going to church – what else am I supposed to do?” Adam teases, but Ronan is about two seconds from deciding to wear a tie for the rest of his life.

He’s about to say this out loud, but Declan’s annoying voice hollers up the stairs, “Ronan! We’re missing the service!”

Ronan growls and kisses Adam one more time before retreating reluctantly. “My suit will still be on afterwards, Parrish,” he says as he pounds down the stairs.

When he looks back up, Adam is leaning on the handrail, grinning at him. His hair is a mess and he’s wearing nothing but one of Ronan’s tanks and his boxers and for the millionth time Ronan is almost drawn back upstairs. “I look forward to it, Lynch.”

Declan pulls him away before he can say anything more, and Adam’s words replaying over and over again in his head is the only thing that keeps him from growling at him for it. Matthew sidles up beside him as they walk into the church, quietly sitting down in a pew near the back, and whispers, “You two are cute.”

Ronan blushes, but he can’t respond to that either because the service has already begun.

The three brothers fall into silence; going to church is the only time the three of them are still and quiet around each other instead of yelling and roughhousing. Ronan tries his best to pay attention to the sermon, but more often than not he finds his mind trailing back to Adam. He wonders what he’s doing right now, if his eyebrows are furrowed in that cute little expression of concentration he has, or what his hands look like working right now…

Every time, he has to forcibly derail his thoughts before they become too graphic for the inside of a church.

When the sermon is over and the space becomes open for confession, Ronan gets in line behind Declan, like he always does. As he’s waiting in line, he thinks about how different of a place he’s in now. He’s spent most of his life hating himself for who he is, either because of his dreams or because of his sexual orientation, and now he has a boyfriend, one that he loves openly and with his entire being. Declan, Matthew, and some nice old ladies (including Ms. Bertha) that are friends of the family know about Adam and don’t shun them for it. It’s amazing to him. He’s in love with another man and no one has struck him down yet.

But he still hasn’t said it out loud. He’s introduced Adam as his boyfriend to a select few people, but he’s never said those three little words, or told anyone else in words how much he loves Adam. Though part of it is because he’s extremely bad at talking about his feelings, he wonders now if part of him had always been afraid that something terrible would happen if he said it out loud. If it would somehow ruin his happiness instead of expanding it.

He thinks of Adam’s sleepy little smile and wonders if it’s time to stop being silent.

He makes up his mind right as Declan comes out of the confession box and pats him on the shoulder. The touch could mean anything, and probably means behave yourself, but Ronan likes to think of it as encouragement.

Ronan shuffles into the confession box and sits down. He can see nothing but the grated window and it makes it easier to pretend he’s alone, even though he can hear the minister breathing on the other end. He takes a deep breath, rubs his hands over his buzzed scalp. Father Arnold is always patient with him, more patient than Ronan thinks anyone in his entire life has ever been with him, and best of all doesn’t push him to talk. They’ve had many confessions where they just sit in silence, Ronan either struggling or disinterested in saying anything. As he takes his time finding his words, he knows that Father Arnold knows it’s him. He always seems to know, even though it’s supposed to be anonymous. To be fair though, Ronan is probably the only person who has sat here for years, fighting with himself to say out loud what he hadn’t even let himself think until recently.

His second secret. The one he’s kept so locked up that for a long time he’d even kept it from himself.

Except, it’s no longer a secret: he’s told himself, and maybe even more terrifying he’s showed Adam. He showed him his deepest darkest secret, and by showing Adam he’d also shown Declan, Gansey, Blue, Matthew, Henry, and those old ladies.

And now, for the first time in a long time, Ronan has something to say.

“Father, I have sinned,” Ronan eventually murmurs, though it still takes him a while to force the words out. He takes a deep breath and clenches his fists at his sides as he continues, “But it doesn’t feel like I’ve sinned.”

Father Arnold doesn’t even sound surprised as he says, “And what is it that you did?”

This part is even harder to admit. Ronan has never uttered it aloud, not even to Adam. He doesn’t know how to form the words in his mouth. He has kept this secret for so long that it’s hard to tell, even though he wants to.

“I kissed Adam Parrish,” he finally blurts out, and he feels free, elated, terrified. Something tight in his chest throbs and releases and suddenly he’s free falling, open and unrestricted but with absolutely no idea where he’s going to land. “You know, the guy who’s renting the room upstairs? I kissed him and asked him out and he said yes. And Father, it’s the best goddamn thing that has ever happened to me.”

Realizing belatedly that he shouldn’t have used that particular curse in confession, he mumbles, “Sorry.”

Father Arnold is silent for a long time, silent for so long that the wide open space inside Ronan starts to close up again and suddenly he’s purely afraid that he fucked up. That Father Arnold will break his code and go out and tell the bigots at the church and they’ll be shunned and mocked. Adam could lose his apartment and God Ronan hasn’t thought this through at all…

“Being in love is not a sin, Ronan,” Father Arnold finally says, and the use of his name almost surprises Ronan more than the actual words. “Love is compassion, and compassion is what makes this world our Lord has created great. Compassion is what makes connections, brings you fulfillment, and improves the lives of yourself and those around you. You hold so much compassion within you Ronan that I’m sure it must be hard for you contain it, but it is never a sin. You have found someone that means the world to you, and that is okay, even if he is another boy. You will help each other and grow together, and I sincerely believe that that is a good thing. The Lord is happy as long as you are happy.”

Ronan has no idea what to say to that, his heart is pounding so hard he isn’t sure he can say anything at all, but before he can figure it out Father Arnold continues, “Are you happy, Ronan?”

“Yes, Father,” Ronan replies immediately, his fingers loosening their tight grip on his pants. “Adam makes me so happy that I don’t know how to handle it sometimes.”

“Then you are where you are meant to be, my child,” Father Arnold says, and Ronan can hear the smile in his voice.

He swallows thickly. “Thank you, Father.”

And then he practically runs out of the confession box because he needs to move, to expel the sudden elated energy that explodes inside of him. He ignores Matthew’s surprised expression as he runs out of the church, feeling wild and hyper. He wants to laugh, he wants to cry, he wants to roll on the grass and set the world on fire because he feels so alive. Everything is going his way for once and he feels like he doesn’t have to hide who he is or be afraid.

He’s never felt so light and free in his entire life.

Declan is standing outside waiting for them when Ronan crashes out of the church like a crazy person, and he jumps a little as he looks up from his phone. “Ronan, what the hell—?”

But Ronan ignores him too and pounds up the steps back to Adam’s apartment, not even bothering to knock as he barges his way in. Adam is sitting exactly where he imagined he would be, huddled over his desk, his eyebrows furrowed as his brain works out what appears to be a complicated calculus problem.

He looks up as Ronan enters, not even surprised. The soft smile on his face makes Ronan’s heart soar even higher. “Hey, you. How did it go?”

Ronan doesn’t bother to reply, he doesn’t think he can express the flurry of emotions in his chest, so he just runs over and scoops Adam up in his arms, holding him as tightly as he can and swirling him around in a circle. Adam lets out a surprised yelp, looking frazzled as he grips onto Ronan for dear life. When Ronan sets him back down on the ground, he frowns and presses the back of his hand to Ronan’s forehead, like he’s worried he has a fever. “Are you feeling alright?”

And Ronan laughs, because really, what a question.

“I’ve never felt better in my goddamn life,” Ronan says, and he leans in to kiss Adam breathlessly, pressing their foreheads together. “I love you, Adam.”

It’s the first time he’s ever said it out loud, and it feels like a giant weight is lifted from his back. He feels like he could run a marathon, swim across an entire ocean, pull at least ten things out of his dreams at once. Seeing the startled look on Adam’s face, though, he hurries to add, “I don’t expect you to say it back or anything, I just…I just needed you to know.”

For a moment Adam just blinks at him, but then he’s smiling a shy smile and Ronan can’t help but lean in and kiss him again. When they part, Adam draws a finger down Ronan’s jaw and whispers, “I think that’s the first time anyone has ever said that to me.”

This piece of knowledge makes Ronan angry and sad and everything in between, but instead of indulging these emotions he just kisses Adam’s good ear and whispers back, “Then I’ll say it as often as you need to hear it. You deserve to hear it all the goddamn time, Adam.”

“Oh God, please don’t say it that often, I don’t think I can handle that,” Adam laughs shakily, and he’s blushing as Ronan presses another kiss to his lips. That’s fine – he won’t be able to say it that often either, if he’s being realistic. He’ll just throw it in when Adam needs the reminder.

Or when he’s least expecting it. That blush is doing wonders to Ronan’s heart.

“Hey, Matthew’s done – are you two lovebirds ready to go to lunch, or—?” Declan says, walking into the room right as Ronan had parted his lips so Adam could sneak his tongue into his mouth. “Jesus Christ!!”

“Declan, please, we’re above a church,” Adam says, and Ronan drops his head down onto his shoulder as he dissolves into laughter.

Declan opens his mouth and closes it again about three or four times before throwing his arms up into the air and stalking back out of the apartment. Ronan chuckles and hugs Adam’s waist, swaying gently as he kisses his neck. “You know, we could go for lunch, or we could do something else, taking full advantage of my suit…”

“Hm, I’m actually pretty hungry though,” Adam says and to Ronan’s utter dismay steps away from him and walks to his desk, stuffing his wallet and keys into his pockets and heading out the door. Ronan’s still gaping at him when he turns around to face him again, raising an eyebrow. “You coming?”

“Never mind, Parrish, I take it back!” he shouts, but he obviously doesn’t mean it as he runs to Adam, leaving one last kiss on his lips before they walk down to Declan’s Volvo, hand in hand.

 --

A couple of weeks later they’re at the Barns, lazing around in the faint afternoon sunlight that lingers on the living room couch. Ronan is lying on his front, shirtless, and Adam is huddled next to him, absentmindedly tracing his tattoo with his calloused fingers. They’d been talking about meaningless things before and now are perfectly content to sit in silence, just appreciating the other’s warmth and presence. It’s a rare moment when Adam is fully caught up on work and school and Ronan wants to take complete advantage of it.

“Hey, you know?” Adam says quietly after a while. Ronan turns his head to the side to stare at him questioningly. But Adam just shakes his head and laughs to himself, pulling a hand through his sweaty hair. Ronan watches the action with way too much attention and interest. “Shit, that was the stupidest way to start this.”

Ronan is even more confused than before. “Just spit it out, Parrish.”

“I love you,” Adam blurts; his direct gaze on Ronan when he says it nearly shatters him. “I mean it – I’ve never been happier than I am when I’m with you, Ronan.”

“…Adam,” Ronan chokes, and for a horrifying moment he’s worried he’s going to start crying. He never could’ve guessed how intensely happy hearing Adam say that to him would make him, and he’s thus unprepared to deal with it. It hits him like a tidal wave and warms his entire body, leaving him shaking, ecstatic, and so very alive.

He tackles Adam, pressing down onto him as he hugs him as tightly as he can at this awkward angle. Adam laughs and wraps one arm around Ronan’s shoulders while using the other hand to caress the back of his head, his fingers automatically rubbing through the fuzz on top of Ronan’s head. “Ronan…!”  

“I love you too,” Ronan gasps, high from the way Adam had said his first name as he nuzzles into Adam’s neck. “God, I love you so fucking much.”

Adam laughs again, cutely embarrassed like he is every other time Ronan says it, and it just makes him love him more. “Careful, God might strike you down for saying that.”  

But Ronan knows God is chill with it, and that just seems to make today that much brighter. 

#pynchweek17 #pynchweek #pynch #ronan lynch #adam parrish #declan lynch #matthew lynch #day 8 #free choice #first time they say I love you #confession #my writing

[hugealienpie]

Check, Please! fic recs: a far from complete compendium

So, @treefrogie84​ made the very astute observation that the Check, Please! fic world is sort of... messy? and asked for a rec list. This is a VERY LARGE TASK, which is why it’s taken me so long to complete it.

Please bear in mind that, as in all things, this is a highly subjective list, leaning toward my personal preferences. A few heavy hitters, especially in the zimbits ship, aren’t here, not because I think they’re bad, but because I have a few idiosyncratic needs when it comes to that pairing. Think of this list as a launching point and see where it takes you.

Also bear in mind that a lot of great CP fics are canon-divergent AUs solely by virtue of CP being a live work constantly in motion. Remind yourself that events in fic may not match up with Canon As We Know It, and you should be fine.

First off, I recommend checking out everything in the Can’t Hardly Wait collection, which is described thusly: 

What happened in Jack and Eric's lives and relationship between Jack's graduation day (May 18, 2015) and the 4th of July weekend when Jack visited Eric in Madison, Georgia? This challenge invites authors to post a short work, chapter, or sketch each day chronicling the passage of time "live".

The completed ones are all gold.

Some longer fic recs, in absolutely no order whatsoever (in keeping with our theme of “CP fic is kind of a sprawling mess”):

Maybe it’s a faux pas to start everything else off with an au, but my absolute, hands down, favorite long CP fics are the librarian!Bitty aus by @marswithghosts. The first is A Little Bit Closer (Bitty/Jack,  107,963 words, Explicit); the recently completed sequel is if this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is (Parse/OMC with background zimbits,  48,557 words, Explicit). I’ve read the first one like a billion times, and @the-wordbutler and I kept a running commentary with each other throughout the second. There’s angst without anything feeling hopeless or bogged down. There’s really candid discussions of Jack’s anxiety and the physical effects of the meds. There are conflicts and crises that feel very real. There is Bitty absolutely slaying Parse via Twitter. There is, without exception, my favorite fan depiction of Kent Parson. I have a very difficult relationship with fan!Parse, but I always know I’m in good hands with marswithghosts.

Madison fics are, of course, their own beasties. My favorite (and I’m only a little biased because I was one of the betas) is In Bloom and Blossom by @sweaterkittensahoy (Perpetual Motion on AO3, 29,463 words, Mature). Perpet is a virtuosa of small-town southern life. If you want a fic where Madison, Georgia feels like a real place you could actually visit, this is the one to read. Also, the SMH group chats are amazing.

Hey, speaking of Perpet, she’s also the author of the ongoing Haus Bylaws series, in which, as the name implies, there are so many Haus hijinks.

And also she wrote “Revenge is Best Served @” (1,894 words, General), a zimbits future fic in which Bitty takes hilarious, passive aggressive aim at some ESPN commentators who call him Jack’s trophy husband.

My favorite entry in the zimbits fake-dating category is “Jack Zimmermann is a Masochistic Fuckwit” by @porcupine-girl (11,538 words, Teen). Lovelorn Jack agrees to fake-date Bitty because he hates himself. Then fake-dating Bitty helps Jack stop hating himself.

Despite the awkward title, “Daddy Lessons” by @novembersnowflakes (13,577 words, Mature), is a lovely exploration of the Jack-Bad Bob dynamic, with a lot of heartfelt exploration of their misunderstandings and miscommunications through the years.

Heart of Ice by flowerfan (55,645 words, Mature) is a really au au. Like... a science fictiony au. Probably the only “Jack ghosts Bitty” fic I will ever recommend, because the reason for Jack’s disappearance turns out to be so startling and unexpected that it made me sit up and take notice in a big way.

I do read a fair amount of Nurse/Dex. But I guess I’m... pickier? about them? Because I have far fewer bookmarks for them. But if you need your NurseyDex fic fix, definitely take a gander at The Mechanics of Poetry series by @omgericzimmermann. It starts with Dex teaching Nurse how to drive, but it’s just so much more than that.

There’s also Idiot (derek nurse, spoken word, 2016), by Euphorion (23,050 words, Mature). It’s technically part three of Euphorion’s Best Laid Plans series, but you don’t need to read the other parts for this one to make sense. The other parts are good, too! This one’s just my favorite. It’s got fake dating and trans!Dex and one of Nurse’s poems that doesn’t make me want to gouge my eyes out with a melon baller.

And this one, which is brand new: “I’ll Take My Chances” by Tripped (24,176 words, Teen). Alternate reality/dimension-hopping Nurse running into multiple versions of Dex and the rest of the SMH gang. It’s a lot of fun.

And now for some >10k stuff I really dig (also in no particular order):

“Jack 110% Zimmermann commits to this relationship really fast” is kind of its own zimbits subgenre. My favorite is “From the Hinge of the Tail” by @eugenideswalksintoabar, largely because of Shitty’s prominent (and hilarious) role in the proceedings.

“The Utterances of Storms” by @rcmclachlan​ (3,525 words, General). Bitty shows off his figure skating and the gang flips its fucking shit. My note says, “I am 40% sure this writer isn't a witch.”

“The Boy Who Hid His Heart in the Ice” by @airspaniel​ (3,363 words, Teen). A lovely fairy taleish retelling of Jack’s childhood, OD, and time at Samwell.

“through the crowd” by kirkaut (4,488 words, General). The Hausmates get the notion that Bitty’s dating someone named “Good Robert.” Things snowball hilariously from there.

“every breath that is in your lungs is a tiny little gift to me” by @gaysun (4,659 words, Teen) has shitlards and zimbits, but it’s really about the glorious friendship of Shitty and Jack, and it’s super great.

“Un ciel aussi rose” by @stultiloquentia (3,794 words, Teen) is glorious zimbits fluff about being on boats.

“Edible Arrangements” by CoffeeStars (4,477 words, Teen). In which there is tadpole-POV, Bitty’s secret lumberjack sugar daddy boyfriend, and LAX bros. I reread it a lot when I need a giggle.

“Sunday Morning Brunch” by SilverSpell (1,295 words, General), is short, sweet zimbits fluff that’s actually all about Alicia Zimmermann being awesome.

And to round out the list with a bit of a wild card, “Harvard Drag” by @mamaliza (1,947, Explicit) is one damned hot shitlards fic in which Lardo has a massive kink about Shitty’s Harvard douchebag persona.

Wooo! This was fun. Thanks for the ask, and thanks for your patience.

#treefrogie84 #fic recs #check please fic rec #check please #omgcp

[way2privileged-blog]

Let me open this with i tried to make a digital vision board and wOoow who knew photo shop is so hard. I gave up, easily at that. i always wished i could be artistically inclined with drawing/ design. i have no trouble imaging beautiful things but i dont know what comes first: lack of experience, anxiety from perfectionism, or feeling judgment from invisible minds. anyways im off topic, this is suppose to be a life update~

my boyfriend left. so thats whats up, sike my heart hurts. do i trust him out there? maybe. if for some reason i end up not being able to trust him well i guess thats just a sign for the next chapter? not to sound indifferent because ill be crying like a bitch for a while but what can you do... ive been feeling oK i guess. i still have yet to apply any of y own advice on how to improve my lifestyle. ive been feeling FAT lately. need to work on that. realistically ive been telling this to myself for a while now and all ive done is push it off and make it worse. 

there’s (so many) things wrong with me and i cant seem to sort them out. im tryin. only 2 month left in Korea, keep telling myself ill get it together in Washington. smh whats the difference. 

ive compulsively been pulling at my hair, biting my nails, picking at skin, pulling on ears, rubbing my tongue on my teeth, rubbing fingers together, heavy chest, tight throat.

why? insecurities, past, present, future, family, finances, normal people thoughts . what makes it abnormal... hyper fixation, obsessive compulsiveness

how im going to fix it? ill come back when i figure it out. Decembers been shaky  

[weasterned]

@yerimmieyo

1. my baby, kind, friendly, cute, humorist 2. nope ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ 3. my baby ujujujuju, happy new year . mommy loves you ! (2)

Hi yuju, We haven’t got any chances to have a proper conversation since I joined the agency few days ago though I saw you quiet often in my timeline. Hope we’re gonna have the chance soon, I am anticipating to have a time to talk with you.

1. HYPER, KIND, HYPER, HYPER, APPROACHABLE 2. IDK 3. HAI

1. Sangpah, Garbage, Trashie. 2. I hate you so much because you are the one who ruins my classy image hadeh. what would I say? bosen liat u malang melintang di tl ca. lets comeback to our muse, Yuna-ya. I miss perang meme with you-- aside of them, you're one of my close friend here. you listen to my story and gave me tons of support. I love you, Yuna. Mwah. 3. Frinz, mau pesen makam dimana 2018?

1) cheerful, hyper, funny, super kind, a happy virus indeed 2) no need to? 3) yujuuuu! i miss you to see you on timeline, where have you been? :( i hope you're doing well~ i've so much fun to talk with you let's talkeu talkeu again with me and i hope 2018 will be much much better year for you!✨

1. warm, kind, cutie, humble, talkative 2. I really want to get closer to you : ( 3. Hello, unnie! Please dont forget me and lets talk more often. Enjoy your christmas and happy new year!

1. Sadly we doesnt have a lot of chit chat but I know you are cute and friendly girl. 2. Yuju-ya, we need more talk or chit chat or anything. Actually I want to get closer to you but sometimes afraid to make a first move, I'll catch you up later. 3. Christmas and New Year is coming soon, means new start, new life, and new spirit. Be happy and I hope we can get long closer okaaaay!

1. kind, cheerful, always on MIA 2. we haven’t talk much, but i hope you’ll always be happy no matter what and be a better person. 3. . i just wanna say, thank you for staying in WST. i’m happy that i have such a kind and caring members here. it might be pretty hard when you feel left out in agency, but i didn’t feel like this here. thank you ♡

Our vocal princess —! She is a cheerful , kind , and funny person. I love to see her tweets on my timeline . . . she is a sweet girl for me :   p 

#1 - Funny - Cute - Savage - Kind - Friendly #2 It has been a long time since I saw Yuju eonni ㅜㅜ💔 Let's talk more #3 Hello Yuju eonni. I actually don't know what to write about you >_< I'm so shy....especially we actually don't really talk that much. You seems fun to talk to and cute. I'm sorry if I sometimes still awkward talk to you and so on. I hope we can talk more comfartably and get closer even more than now~!💖 Yay! Anyway, I hope next year will be better than this year⚘

1. Cute, funny, pretty, humble and good 2. Nah i dont know what to write 3. Hello yuddu! Lets make this letter simple but good.. I hope 2017 treats you good and 2018 treats you even better. Happy new year!

1. Good, nice, fun, kind, sweet, friendly 2. I think you potray yuju very well, keep update about gfriend hehe 3. Hello yuju, if im not mistaken we've ever talked before and you look like a really fun girl. Lets talk more in the future

Cute, friendly, kind, I cant say she's calm but what...

hyper crazy noisy receh friendly

1. Kind, warmhearted, tooo funny with her memes ;         ; and caring with her surroundings ! 2. Uh, I hope you will online more often yeogiseo— ㅠ     ㅅ      ㅠ 3. Hewwo Jjyu unnyie ! Since 2018 is nearly neaar, I hope you will always be fulfilled with haffiness, find your new hobbies, experiences new things and smiiile more ! People loves you, remember that. ♡

-

1. hyperactive! sometimes crazy sometimes noisy :p.  very kind and friendly! 2. Kamu kapan hari deactive ya akunnya? kok aku  search ga bisa... :(. hmmm I think she dont need  improve anything. just be yourself dear! and of course  if you want to be better, do it!! dont listen others  because you're the only one who know about yourself  :) 3. nothing much.. be good roleplayer of yuju ! stay  healthy and don't overthinking bcs it can kills you  #kidding hahaha. good luck dear!

Dear you, it's okay not to be okay, it's okay if you're breaking apart but don't forget to heal your ownself and pick those broken pieces, re-arrange everything and close that goddamn last chapter already and start a new one, you need to start a new fresh, be your own happyself and love yourself for more. Sincerely, Yourself

HAHAHA one of the weirdo in weast but she is always so funny and kind to me and the others. i noticed that she didn't reply to my replies sometimes so i hope she could fix that? you are a good friend afterall

1. LOUD, CUTE, FRIENDLY, CHATTERBOX, LOVELY. 2. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH YOU DONT NEED TO IMPROVE ANYTHING BUT PLEASE BE HAPPY. 3. I really am hoping you will have a great 2018, may the force be with you. Have a veryvery happy days in 2018, i love you.

1. Baik bgt anjay. 2. Lovely 3. Lovable 4. Very very very very very cute 5. Very approachable Jjyu my tofu. Hello there. It’s nice to fill your form hahaha. I think one thing you need to improve on is to be more happy because I think you’re already a really good person. Yuju-ya, let’s be happy for a long time. I’m so glad I have you as a friend, I really am. Please always be happy. 2018 is coming really soon so please let it be a good year for you okay? Remember that I’m here to talk if you need me, whether it’s about important things or unimportant ones.

1. sweet, weiiiiiiiiiiiiiird, fun, unreplaceable, responsive, luv. 2. for me, bubu is the one of kind. idk since when we became this perfuectly match *kiww. the one who can be my ayan partner even some people misunderstands our relationship as girls love OMG I'M DIZZY ENOUGH. well, it's more than girls love because we've declarating our self as soulmate already. thank you for approach me right after anyway, I really love  to talk ngalor ngidul with her. you are good enough, let's make weast fam happy because of our existence.   3. hi, bubu one of weast sister. I wish you an unlimited happiness, you'll passed rude or even rough things this year. congratulation for your relationship with your boyfriend, I'm happy for you two. I wish many good things happen right after. fighting! loves.

1. Fun, soft, kind, pretty, joyful 2. I don't know tbh.. 3. My baby, I wuf you. Please always be happy. Whatever happen, remember there's a good day after a bad day

1. Very funny, very kind, very loud, lovely, cute? 2. Please do what you have done because you're doing great already! 3. Hello yerim! I hope you will always have the wonderful and blessful days ahead! 2018 is coming very soon, please stay happy and healthy! And please spend the end of 2017 happily and joyfully with the one you love! Good luck!

1. I LOVE YOUR ICONS AND HEADER. AH, SO MATCH. Done? Done. 2. KATY KIM. KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK. YOU PORTRAY HER WELL. 3. Yes, we should talk mooooreeeeeeee in the future. I really need to keep in touch with member-deul. Smh.

#yerimmieyo