#also scrolling through my ao3 and linking all my fics that also took a while

[nyrasbloodyclover]

hypnotic (kai anderson x reader)

cw: breeding kink, eating disorder (it's really really bad), mommy issues, mentions of suicide, parental abuse, cults, kai is his own warning really, murder, overstimulation

a/n: if you're not into this pleaseeeee leaveeeeee i don't want tumblr to delete my blog again. also you can read this fic on ao3 if you'd like, link is in my pinned post. and if, by any chance, you relate to this i am so sorry.

What I wanted right now, was to get out of my house, go anywhere, just so I could stop listening to constant fighting and screaming from my parents. I couldn't bear it anymore. I had one year until college but it seemed impossible to survive that long. 

"Oh, look who locked herself in her room!" My mother bursted in and a pit started forming in my stomach. I didn't move. "When are you going to start being useful? You're in here all the time, you could start paying rent." 

Now, what was I supposed to say to that? If I told her that the reason I spent all my time in my room was because they wouldn't stop screaming at each other and I would just be their punching bag, she wouldn't listen and the situation would only get worse.

"Or maybe it's time for you to find a job. Now you're just living like a parasite." I stared. My mother was a very complex character. I think she would be capable of pulling Gone Girl on us. She has the mentality. Just saying.

My father on the other hand, he's weak. Or she made him weak. I don't remember the last time he stood up for himself. He's tired, I can see that clearly. I just wish they would get a divorce. It's so draining to wake up everyday and live in fear that your every move is going to be a mistake, something to criticize. 

I don't remember the last time I felt truly at peace, but I could afford myself distractions. That's how I ended up scrolling through Tumblr 12 hours per day and forgetting to eat because the skinny girls I came across were just so pretty. Food was my enemy. We couldn't stand each other. And the guilt simply because of eating was the worst feeling ever.

Empty is pretty. And I wanted to look pretty, so I starved. It was my sport. It still is. The joy of seeing my hipbones and ribs after some time was indescribable. I loved to lay awake at night and touch my bones, feel them as I tried to fall asleep. Of course, there were many times when I just couldn't take it anymore and I binged. I would regret it immediately and restrict even more.

"Alright. I'll find a job." I stared at her with empty eyes. I was dizzy, almost like I got drunk. She exited the room and slammed the doors behing her. I think I'm never going to fully understand her.

I stared at my ceiling, having no energy to move, even though I had unfinished assignments hanging above my head, screaming at me to do them, but I just wanted to sleep. School can wait. I think my red lipstick was smudged, but I had no energy to take it off. My hair was a mess, too. I tried to straighten it but my natural waves were too stubborn. I fell asleep.

A week passed. My life stayed the same except for my new job at the restaurant—The Butchery On Main.

The two sweet women who own it were kind enough to let me work even though they don't employ people under eighteen. I worked mostly after my school, until the closing. I didn't mind since I got to leave the house and get a break from my parents. 

People were nice, I took their orders, served their food. The restuarant was mostly empty during my shifts, but nonetheless it was almost hard, working with food. All those calories around me made me want to puke. And I wasn't much of a puker. I had the urge to binge. It was disgusting. But I wasn't going to throw all my work out of the window just like that. 

I had my diet coke and if I got hungry Ivy said that I could eat whatever I wanted, and I wanted cucumber. With pepper. They had those.

Today, I had much free time so I was just sitting at one of the tables and doing my homework while scrolling through Tumblr and eating freshly peeled cucumber with some seasoning on top. I was thriving. I was almost happy. It seemed impossible.

The door opened. A man walked in. He was dressed in black from head to toe and what stood out the most was his blue hair with grown out roots. He walked like he owned the building and everyone in it. I immediately stood up, while he was pulling out his chair, fixing my uniform. I let him read through the menu for a couple of seconds and then decided to approach.

"What would you like to order?" I smiled. I was nice. I am always nice. Why hasn't he looked at me yet? Why is he ignoring my presence? His head was bowed down until he raised it and I was met with black pools that stared at me, or rather through me. I felt dizzy and it wasn't the diet.

"Surprise me," he cocked his head, "I would love to see what you liberals like to eat the most. Maybe it'll make me change my political views."

"Al..right," I dragged on, "Is that all?"

"Yes," he replied.

"Everything will be done in a minute." I wanted to get away from him, as soon as possible. He was probably some Trump obsessed republican who's most likely to tell me to make him a sandwich. Which I am practically doing right now. But I couldn't deny it - He had a beautiful face. I wouldn't consider him that attractive if it weren't for his dead, piercing eyes that silently commanded you to obey every one of his rules. 

The food was ready. I had a feeling I would fall on my face next time I locked my eyes with his, which wasn't good. I didn't even know his name! Rachel, one of the cooks, handed me the best steak they had, house's special, "Who is it for?"

I didn't dare look at him. "The one with the blue hair. Just please don't stare. He's creeping me out."

Her eyes went wide, "That's Kai Anderson."

I looked at her blandly. The name didn't mean anything to me.

"You seriously need to watch more television."

"I'm fine, thanks. And if he's some menatlly deranged politician, then I'm not really missing out."

All the politics drained me, and don't get me wrong, I loved to be informed, but when I had to argue with someone about basic human rights, I'd rather not know anything.

I walked over to his table, and put the food on it. "I hope you're not vegan. Either way, enjoy your food." I kept my eyes everywhere, just not on him. He was so unsettling. I had to get away.

"I certainly will," he said and I walked away without a second glance. Jesus Christ, his mere presence was intense.

My shift ended in half an hour and that's when the restaurant was supposed to close. Ivy left early because of some family emergency, so she asked me to close and lock everything for her. I changed into my regular clothes—denim skirt and a white button down with my favorite black sweater, docs and a pair of knee socks. I untangled my hair and tried to brush it out with my fingers.

The tables were empty. Well, mostly. So-called Kai Anderson was still here, not even eating, just looking at some papers and flipping them over, for a while now.

I needed some extra balls to approach him and ask him to leave. Why did I accept to be the last one here? I could've been home by now, sleeping or watching a sitcom, but instead I'm stuck in this building with the strangest and the scariest man I've ever met. But then again, If I were home, my mother would be screaming at me. So I guess it's a win? Also I had to thank Kai for occupying my mind and not letting me think about food. I seriously needed to go to bed before I ended up eating something. Or worse- binging. I think I had less than 200 calories today which is a sign that I am slowly approaching danger zone. It isn't a diet anymore. I can't eat normally. I thought I could go back, but I guess my body won't let me. Or was it my mind?

"Miss?" Someone waved before my eyes.

"Yes? Sorry." Kai was standing beside the table that I occupied. 

"Are you closing soon?"

Should I lie? But then again, he isn't stupid. "Yes. Do you want to pay?"

"Oh no. I already did. I just wondered what occupied your mind that much." He had no idea.

"Nothing much. Just tired I guess. Can't seem to balance school and work."

"Ah. You see," he sat across me, "I don't believe you."

"Okay? I didn't try to be persuasive."

He smirked. Dear God, why was he so creepy but so hot at the same time?

"I still want to know what made you zone out for that long." Has he been staring at me the whole time?

"That's creepy. I don't even know you."

"What's that got to do with anything? I just asked you to tell me what's been botherung you. You looked fucking stressed."

"It really doesn't matter." I just wanted him to leave. 

"Wait. Here, I'll give you..." he reached into his  back pocket, "Fifty bucks if you tell me."

My lips curved. Come on, you can't blame me. Extra cash at my age isn't something you just don't accept.

"Ah! I knew it," he smiled, "Come on, doll, speak."

"It isn't anything interesting. My mom is just being a bitch, nothing unusual." I gave him the least I could and snatched the cash from his hand.

"She isn't letting you sleep over at your boyfriend's or something?" He laughed like I had the dumbest reason for not liking my mother.

"Not really. She just...Wants too much, I guess? And I'm not able to give her that." It felt weird saying that out loud. I think I never said it.

He stared at me for a second.

"I want to show you a trick." He put his right hand on the table. "Don't worry. It's something me and my older brother always used to do when we were little."

He reached with his pinky finger over to my hand. We locked fingers like we were making a pinky promise. 

"This is weird. And please hurry. My shift ends in fifteen minutes." 

"We have enough time. Okay, listen. Pinky power. Once the skin contact is made, no lies can be told and whatever we say, stays between us," he narrowed his black eyes, "Trust me, if you lie, I will know. Ready?"

When did I agree to this? Well, fuck it, I'll do it anyway.

"Do you love your family?" He asked, his expression serious.

"Yes." His mouth twitched.

"Do you like your family?"

"Absolutely not." I shook my head.

"Why is that?" 

How do I explain this to him without sounding like a total maniac? "My father is weak, he doesn't know how to stand up for himself. And my mother screams at me for merely existing. Her favorite hobby is emotionally draining me, then pulling my hair or slapping me because she feels like it. She regrets having me. I think she wants me to kill myself. It would be easier to have a dead daughter." My mind went blank. I felt nothing in that moment. Whatever he asked, I was going to tell him.

"Did you ever try to kill yourself?," he asked with a flat voice.

I thought for a second. Should I tell him the whole truth? He said he's going to know if I lie, but that doesn't mean...

"Don't think too much." His eyes went dark while I was literally choking under pressure of his gaze.

"No. I was never suicidal. I like living. But I..." words were stuck in my throat, "I...Sometimes, she would starve me. Saying I didn't deserve it. I had no money to buy something to eat. So I made a game out of it. I developed a disorder. It was the only thing I had some control over. I started it out of spite, but now it's real. It's worse than ever. But I don't want to stop."

His expression never changed. Not once. "Do you hate your mother for that?"

"You have no idea."

"I think I do have some idea about hating one of your parents. So, from experience, I need to ask you one more question."

I nodded. "Have you ever dreamt about killing her?"

I wanted to pull back from him, but his hand wouldn't let me. He pulled me even closer. "We can't break the contact," he gritted through his teeth.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," I exhaled, "Yes. And no."

"Elaborate." 

The restuarant was silent. I couldn't even hear the sound of cars outside. Lights were practically out. 

"I...I wanted her dead. But I don't think I would be able to do it. I had a," I inhaled, "A fantasy about someone killing her while I watched. It's so fucked up, but I just couldn't help it. It brought me relief that she was gone and someone cared enough to get rid of her for me." 

I was scared to look at him. He was going to call the mental ward and lock me there. I was fucked. Why did I tell him all of that? 

I looked up.

He was smiling. It wasn't a sympathetic smile, or a sad smile, or anything similar to that. He was grinning like a maniac. He released my hand and I realized my eyes were filled with tears. I blinked them away. 

He shook his head with closed eyes, "You're perfect. Perfect."

My voice was low, weak. "What? How could you think that after what I just told you?"

"Don't ask too many questions. I have a solution for you because I know you're destined for greater things. Tell me, do you wish to never be under your mother's thumb again?"

"I mean, yes? That's going to be when I turn eighteen, so I have to be patient."

He laughed. "Oh, no, baby, no. She's never going to let you go. She'll suffocate you until there is nothing left but a shell. No matter the age or what the law says, you'll always be controlled. While she's alive, at least."

"What are you saying?"

"Do you want my help? Do you wish to be finally free?"

This was so fucked up. I never met this man in my life. Why was he offering me help?

"What's in it for you?"

He cocked his head, "I get to keep you by my side."

My mouth was dry. I was scared, but...excited. Thrill rushed down my body as this psychopath was staring at me, offering me a sick escape. I was supposed to say no. I was supposed to save my soul.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"I want your help."

He looked so happy, it made me happy.

"Good. Then, we're leaving now." I was hypnotized by him. I just nodded, not asking where or why, my mother taught me I shouldn't get in the cars with strangers, especially men, but my mother was also the reason for many of my problems. I'll do something that'll piss her off.

I got into Kai's car and shut the door. I was okay with the fact that he might end up killing me.

He said nothing for the most of the ride, but I noticed him glancing over at my skirt that rose up to my thighs. I didn't bother pulling it down. I mean, I wore mini skirts for a reason, right?

I pretended not to notice as I looked at my reflection in the closed window. Hollow cheeks, red lipstick, pale face. I was obsessed. I always wanted to look like a corpse with make up. My face was perfect, lipstick untouched, mascara a little smudged, dark circles under my eyes from sleepless nights. 

"You know you could eat a burger." I looked at him. I almost wanted to hug him. His words made me feel proud, like I achieved something big. And I guess I did.

"Really? Do you know that you're the first person ever to tell me that?" I felt weird happiness in my chest. 

"Well, yeah. Why do you look so surprised? I didn't mean it as a compliment. You have a problem. I'm not even sure it's supposed to be a compliment." He frowned, not taking his eyes off the road.

"It doesn't matter if it's supposed to be a compliment or not. Thank you for saying it." I didn't give two fucks if he thought I was some anorexic lunatic that needed years of therapy. I was happy. And he wasn't my parent or my guardian to tell me what to do.

"Just think about it. What's the point of being so skinny? It's not even attractive."

"The point is in being clean. I don't want to see a pound of fat on my body. It's disgusting. And I am to do with my body as I please. I don't give a fuck if someone likes to eat like a fucking pig because It's not my body, and certainly not my problem." I was so angry. Who the fuck he thought he was?

"Just saying. You look sick. And I mean really, really sick."

"I am aware. Like I'm also aware that I'm fucked in the head. And that's the reason for all of this," I gestured over my figure. 

I could feel his anger. He didn't like that I disagreed with him and stood up for myself, even if I was wrong.

"We're here." He suddenly said, getting out of the car. I followed him into the house I guessed was his. The whole neighborhood was silent. Lights were off everywhere. 

We got into his house and I didn't even got to see it clearly because he practically dragged me into his basement and started changing. He put on a black leather coat while looking for something. His phone? He called someone.

"I'm expecting you'll be here in five? Well don't try to make up excuses. This is a perfect opportunity. I don't care— No, drag yourself and your pathetic wife here." He called two more people and I just stood in the middle of the room staring at him. 

"What's your adress?" Was he really doing that now? "You know what, never mind. I found it." I wasn't going to ask him how. He looked like the person who instead of Instagram browsed dark web. 

"Okay, let's go. They're here." I had to ask him because he said nothing about it. I had to be sure.

"Why are we going to my house?"

Beat. A moment. "To kill your mother, of course."

There were other people with us, but I couldn't see their faces because of the creepy clown masks. Kai had one too. I felt like I was drugged. I didn't know what happened to me. I suppose I had enough. I know Kai is not the answer for my problems, at least not all of them. He's going to get rid of her and then what? No. Stop thinking. 

I listened to my brain this time. It was late. My parents were probably asleep. Probably in separate beds. It's going to be easier for Kai and the others to do the job. They kept their mouths shut and I didn't blame them. I still wasn't sure if I was part of this sick cult or whatever it was. I read enough about them to recognize a cult leader when I see one. 

The car suddenly stopped. We were in front of my house.

"This played out so good, little lamb. I knew you were perfect." Kai's voice was muffled under that mask and his words made my heart flutter. He was so sick. "Don't just stand there, baby. Be a good host. Invite us in. Come on," he gestured with one gloved hand towards my house. I felt everyone's eyes on me as I turned my back and started walking towards the door. What did he mean by this playing out good? Did he plan this before? It certainly did not matter.

We got in, doors creaking, but not enough to wake anyone up. My father was downstairs, in the guestroom, but my Satanic mother was in their bedroom. I went first, up the stairs, one by one, they followed me, Kai first, then the rest of them. 

I showed them the doors. 

Kai got in and they followed him. I shut the door behind me. I felt like I was seeing things through someone else's eyes. I didn't feel guilt and I wasn't regretting my decision. I remember everything through a coat of blur. Knives, a lot of them. They killed her in her sleep. Stabbed her too many times, I lost count. Sheets were soaked with red and the room started smelling like iron too. Kai used her blood to draw some sign on the wall that was facing the bed. It looked like a smiley face, but I wasn't sure. The job was done. I was free. I was free of any charges, since I wasn't home when it happened. I was going to sleep in my bed and wake up in the morning, shocked, petrified, screaming for help, calling the police, my father is going to be terrified too, but relieved. He would never admit it thought. 

We were in the car again. Then in front of Kai's house. "Leave. I want some time alone with our newest member."

"Kai, no. You can't drag her into this. She's just a child—" A feminine voice scorned him under her mask.

"Don't tell me what to do, Winter. Now leave," he raised his voice and I flinched. "We have much to talk about." He took off his mask and smiled knowingly at me. I wasn't scared of him anymore, though I knew I should be. He killed my mother for Christ's sake! 

We went into his basement again. The lights were already on and I watched him as he took off his mask and black coat. His shirt was soaked with my mother's blood. 

"What did you want to talk about?" I cocked my head.

"You were so good. I knew you could do it. Next time, maybe you'll even be the one holding the knife. You didn't even flinch!" He paced through the room and laughed, like he was talking to himself.

"You didn't do this for me, did you?"

He stopped, then looked at me, "I already told you. This played out perfectly. And I've been watching for quite some time now," his eyes darkened "When I found out that the woman who's been talking shit about me over her social media had a daughter, I had to see if she was as bitchy as her mother." Oh, so he did this to save his reputation. Of course.

"And," I swallowed, "Is she?"

He didn't answer me. Instead he marched to the other side of the room and pushed me against the wall, slamming his lips on mine. I was out of breath, not being able to process everything. Oh my god, he was kissing me! This insane, sick in the head, narcissistic, 30-something, psychopath was kissing me and I opened my mouth to him like the whore I was. I wanted him to touch me. No, I needed his blood stained hands on me right now. 

I pulled one of his hands and put it on my chest as his tongue continued to explore my mouth. He took off my sweater and shirt. I was left in a black bra and skirt.

"Aren't you scared of being arrested for fucking a minor?"

"I commited far more monstrous crimes than fucking a seventeen year old and you know it, " he breathed into my mouth. Red lipstick was smudged over his lips. His hand that was on my chest slipped under my skirt and found my panties. 

"You know it," his fingers entered me with ease, "And yet, you're still so fucking wet for me." My mouth fell open as he buried his fingers deeper if that was even possible. I wasn't a virgin, but then again, I've never been with a man. I took my own virginity so that I didn't have to bother. 

"Kai—" I breathed. I needed more.

He sat on one of the chairs beside the circular table and pulled me onto his lap, his thigh between my legs. My clit was aching for some king of friction so I started rubbing myself against the rough fabric of his jeans. 

"Aren't you desperate?" He pushed me on the floor, between his legs, he pulled out his belt and unzipped his pants. His intentions were clear and I was happy to oblige, but I had to touch myself or I'd go insane. I started stroking his already hard dick and rubbing my clit at the same time. 

He noticed. And he wasn't happy about it. "I thought you were going to be patient. But I guess not." He took his belt and with one move he tied my hands behind my back while I was still kneeling in front of him.

"Please, I just need to—"

"Yes, yes, I know, but you have to deserve it. Am I right?"

I nodded hesitantly and he scooped up my hair in his fist and used it to pull my head down. I took him into my mouth as the wetness and ache grew between my legs. 

Kai continued to pull my head down until his tip hit the back of my throat and I gagged. He chuckled.

My eyes teared up as I sucked his dick like my life depended on it.

He grunted and raised his hips, so I knew he was close. And I knew he was going to either come in my mouth or...

He pulled out and finished on my tits, painting my chest with his cum. 

"You were so good," he said with his head tilted back and eyes closed. He let my hair fall down my back and over my face. Kai dressed and got up, then pulled me with him, still tied.

He slammed me on the desk and I was able to just lay there and let him do whatever he wanted to me. Not that I minded.

"I feel like I'm going to break you," he said as he traced my very visible ribs with the tips of his fingers. "Break every bone in your body." 

I could feel my stomach sinking in and his words made me even a bigger mess than I already was. "Do it, please, please," I cried out as my hips rose towards him. 

"Since you asked so nicely...And the skirt stays on. Do you know how much willpower it took me not to bury my hand under your skirt and make you beg for more while we were driving?" He pulled my skirt up and didn't even bother to take off the panties, he just ripped them. He towered over me as I layed on his table, feeling the cool air on my swollen clit. 

Kai's fingers went over my aching pussy and my back arched towards his touch. He did nothing for a split second and then came the first slap. I yelped as the burning spread between my legs, but I didn't tell him to stop. He slapped me even harder and I cried out, most ungodly sounds coming from my mouth.

"Don't worry, you can scream as loud as you'd like."

He slapped my dripping cunt once more and after that I was sure I was going to feel his hands on me days after. He didn't wait for me to recover from his brutality, instead he buried two fingers inside me and started scissoring, wanting to spread me even wider. I threw my head back as he added one more. He buried them knuckle deep inside me and began curling them.

"I feel like you're a big girl. You can take one more." He didn't wait for my agreement. His four fingers were inside, making my pussy burn with pleasure. I wasn't able to form words. He spat on me and started massaging my clit while almost his whole hand was thrusting in and out of me. I felt pressure deep in my lower stomach and started panting and moaning for him to continue, but he did exactly the opposite. 

My cunt was left empty without his fingers and I could almost cry. I just needed a bit more.

"Don't look so upset. I'm not finished with you." 

Kai untied me and took his belt. He spread my legs as wide as he could and started spanking my pussy with it. I screamed more in pain than surprise, "Kai, no, stop, please stop-"

The pain was unbearable, but it was just enough  for my clit to start pulsing more and that pressure in my belly to grow. I screamed in pain as he continued to hit me with no mercy. I could feel my walls clenching and my back arched as I came undone. Orgasm hit me and I came down from my high, but Kai didn't stop. 

He started rubbing my abused cunt, overstimulating it. He was deaf to my begging and crying. It was too much. There was no pleasure anymore, just pure pain, but he continued to massage it and after a couple of minutes I was shaking with another orgasm. I knew I was too sensitive, but when I tried to close my legs, he stopped me. Then I noticed his rock hard dick under his jeans and my heart dropped. I was going to pass out. He was going to use me, not caring for my pleasure anymore.

"Just hold still a little more, doll." He pulled his dick out and slammed himself inside me, making my eyes roll to the back of my head. Everything hurt, but he didn't care. His thrusts were fast and rough, I couldn't keep up. I could feel his orgasm building and he had no intention of pulling out. Kai continued to slam into me until he reached his peak. He filled me with his seed and when he finally pulled out I could feel it dripping from my pussy.

Kai helped me get up and as he was untying his belt, his hot breath was on my neck. "Welcome to the cult, baby."

#kai anderson fanfic #kai anderson fanfiction #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson #ahs cult #ahs fanfic #ahs coven #ahs #american horror story #kit walker #tate langdon #james patrick march #jimmy darling #evan peters fanfic #evan peters #evan peters x reader

[teegeeteegee]

Answering Questions No One Asked For (Part II)

Continuation of this post. Also, I just learned I can't edit previous posts to add titles. 😂

Mario Fan Creations: Thus far, I have written ten Mario based fanfictions on AO3. They are linked on my pinned post in this blog. I have ideas for other fics I would like to write, and they will be linked once I post them on AO3. Right now, I'm sticking to fanfiction because I have zero artistic talent. 😂

Favorite Fanfiction Written So Far: Although Burning Desire is my most popular fic, my personal favorite right now is Unclogging Love. I just loved the idea of Mario and Luigi sharing their thoughts about Peach and Daisy with the latter two eavesdropping on them. 🙂

Writing Style: I'm more of a pantser, meaning I write what comes to mind without an outline. I'm trying to balance between being a pantser and plotter. I like the freedom of writing the story as it plays in my mind. However, at the same time I'm trying to be better at outlining my stories and giving them more structure. As far as the stories I write, I try to write the stories I would like to read myself. I try to keep them to where anyone can enjoy them, and I want most if not all of my stories have happy endings for my favorite characters.

Favorite Fics To Read: I love reading positive fics centered around my favorite characters and ships, especially if they're Mareach and/or Luaisy-centric. I try to avoid reading fics that place my favorite characters in a negative light. The character I am the most sensitive about is Peach. If I stumble across a fic that depicts her negatively, I bail out as soon as I can. I also try to avoid fics with bad/negative endings.

Other Favorite Gaming Series:

Pokémon

Final Fantasy (although I haven't played one since FFX)

Seiken Densetsu (especially Trials of Mana, I may write fanfiction about that game next)

Chrono games (Trigger, Cross)

Tetris

Legend of Zelda (though the last one I played was Wind Waker 😬)

Biggest Pet Peeves in Fandoms: I have two major ones:

Gatekeeping - I mean, what's the point? Just because someone doesn't know every single detail about a series doesn't mean they aren't true fans. 🙄 I don't know everything about the things I enjoy and even if I did, I wouldn't act superior to others. If anything, that could turn people away from fandom. I, for one, love to see new people in the fandoms I enjoy.

Bashing Characters To Build Up Favorites - This one drives me nuts. It's one thing to prefer some characters over others. However, there's no need to take shots at or talk negatively about the characters that aren't favored as much. Let's take the Mario fandom, for example. The prime examples I see are Luigi being praised while Mario is dragged through the mud, and the other Mario girls being celebrated while Peach is criticized. Maybe it's just me, but I'd rather support my favorites than criticizing others.

Another one that is sort of an extension of #2 is people taking shots at characters while they're being praised. Someone can create a positive topic about a character, yet some who dislike the character come in and say something negative about the character and/or insulting those who do. It's something I could never understand. For me, if I don't care about certain characters or ships, I don't even look at the topic. I scroll past it and go on about my day. I just think it's a waste of time and energy to do something like this.

Well, I think I will stop here for now. If I can come up with anything else, I'll create another post. Also, I'll do my best to answer any questions others may have. For anyone who took the time to read all of this, thank you, and I hope whoever read this enjoyed getting to know me a little better. 😁

#tee's random talk #opening up part 2 #answering questions no one asked for part 2 🤣 #fanfiction related #pet peeves

[insane-control-room]

(Throws Tablet)

In which Evans lets Elise see some of Doug's texts to him, because this time he's gone too far.

a friend sent me this incorrect quote; made a fic. https://www.tumblr.com/darkdeception-incoquotes/705849624478597120/elise-throws-phone-at-the-wall-in-a-fit-of incorrect quote from: @darkdeception-incoquotes my requests are open btw :3 also this isnt canon to most of my stories i just lost my mind at 1am

Rated: G (Implied suggestive content) Warnings: referenced/implied cheating ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47867194

(Fic under cut)

“That cheating prick!” Elise growled, gripping the tablet hard enough to make slight white spots appear under her press. She stared at the pictures, face white with rage. “That lying, cheating prick!” 

“You can’t say I didn’t warn you,” Evans sighed, trying to be as gentle as he could with her. Normally, Evans simply pleaded with Doug not to cheat on Elise, tried to get him to change his ways and go home instead of ‘working’ late in his office. This time, though, Doug had the audacity to text him some pictures snapped during his illicit exploit. Evans had threatened Doug that if he ever dared do such a thing, he would show the images to Elise, and, well, now he was making due on that very remark. He hated watching Elise’s rage at the confirmation of her suspicions. Even if Doug never denied her accusations of him cheating, she never had any proof, and it was enough for her to cling to. But now…. “I’m sorry, Elise.” 

“No. Thank you, Evans,” Elise shook her head. She took in a deep breath, and looked back at the pictures. “I needed this. Goddamnit, I needed this.” 

Evans shifted, slightly uncomfortable, as she began to scroll through his and Doug’s text history. He bit his lip to keep from protesting. She had a right to see, even if he hated sharing any glimpse of his private life with anyone. She laughed incredulously, venomously. 

“He even tried to get into your pants!” she scoffed, pausing in her scroll. Evans’ cheeks heated significantly while he recalled the several soliciting, salacious texts Doug had sent him. “Good on you for shutting him down! God, that backstabbing, crass, disgusting shit!” 

Evans tried to calm her down, but he was a moment too late. The enraged woman threw the tablet against the wall. Evans winced as it shattered.

“Um, Elise?” Evans quietly remarked, his hands shifting to hold each other in his meekness. “That was mine.”

Elise stared at the broken device for a moment before a soft pink blush colored her cheeks. 

“Oh,” she replied, sounding surprised. She pursed her lips for a second before commenting, “I’ll pay for it.” 

“You don’t have-”

“I’m going to use Doug’s card.”

“Oh. I see,” Evans nodded. Fair enough. “I’d appreciate it.”

“You know what I would appreciate, Detective?” Elise asked, looking at him through her lashes. He swallowed down a blush, shrugging. “If you’d be a sweetheart and cuffed Dougie onto a chair.” 

“Seems like a mild punishment,” Evans dryly remarked. 

“It’s so he could watch me go down on you,” Elise explained, dancing her fingers over his chest. 

Evans felt all of his blood rush to his face, and he choked on air, gaping at the coquettish woman before him. 

“I have to go,” he stammered.

“See you around, Detective,” Elise grinned, and winked. She called after him. “I think it would be a great way to keep him from cheating!”

“Not listening!” Evans answered, still blushing. 

#dark deception #control art #control writes #fic #fiction #dark deception fic #elise houser #doug houser #detective evans #referenced/implied cheating #mild humor #mild comedy #fluster #attempted seduction #banter #implied suggestive content

[da3drat]

Okay this is silly but i keep seeing people post their fic with a link to ao3 but also in the text of the post, and somehow that had never occurred to me. So. i'm doing that. Last repost of this fic i prommy lol.

Palla, Pygmalion, Meridian

In which the Nerevarine discovers complicated feelings regarding the one woman on all of Nirn she should be avoiding at all costs.

The long, long walk to Ebonheart had left Meridian exhausted and irritable. Arriving in town well after the sun had set, she had been in no mood to track down transport to Mournhold and had taken a room at the inn instead. This had been a mistake. Not two hours later she had awoken just in time to dodge a dagger arcing toward her throat. The scuffle with the Dark Brotherhood assassin had been loud and bloody, and she had been promptly asked to leave.

Now, as she shivered and stewed outside the Six Fishes, she figured her only course was to head straight to Mournhold and give those gods damned assassins a piece of her mind. If she was feeling particularly contrary on arrival she may even demand compensation for all the cleaning fees she'd owed after dispatching her would be murderers.

She stalked through the freezing night air and considered that this Asciene Rane who was meant to provide her transport would likely be asleep at this hour. Had Meri been in a less foul mood she may have considered camping outside the city until the sun had risen, but as it was she had no qualms about finding this woman, waking her, and insisting upon teleportation that exact minute. It was lucky for Asciene then that she was tucked away in a locked bedroom and would not be found by anyone until she awoke at dawn. It was not lucky for Meri, whose lack of sleep and growing impatience grated on her by the minute. When the two finally met in the Grand Council chambers one glowed from a good night's sleep and hearty breakfast, while the other could have been mistaken for a scrawny, ill-tempered spriggan from a distance.

All the same, Meri was a fine actor and put on a relieved smile as she closed the distance to Asciene.

"Oh, I've been searching for you all morning! I need passage to the mainland and was told you could help me, it's a bit of an emergency."

Asciene gave her a suspicious look, and Meri took the cue to up the pathetic fawning.

"The Dark Brotherhood is hunting me," She said in a sorrowful voice. "Even last night at the inn I was attacked, and in my sleep no less. Please, my only chance is to get help in Mournhold."

"The Dark Brotherhood?" Asciene's eyes widened. "Oh, Matius told me you may be by. Poor thing. Yes, I can get you to Mournhold, but you're likely to be even less safe there than here."

The corner of Meri's lips quirked upward involuntarily at being called "poor thing", but she did her best to cover it by giving her a thankful smile.

"It's the only chance I have," She reiterated. "Thank you so much for helping me."

"I can send you now if you're ready. Talk to the argonian Effe-Tei if you need to come back."

"Yes, I'm ready. Thank you."

Asciene put a hand on Meri's shoulder and she closed her eyes, soon feeling the pins and needles sensation of teleportation. When she reopened them she fell lithely out of the air and into the Mournhold Palace's reception area.

Scowl returned and mockingly muttering "poor thing" under her breath Meri marched out into the courtyard without bothering to take in her surroundings. The 'City of Light' did not interest her- she had eyes only for the good night's sleep that awaited her at the end of her quest. She caught the arm of a guard and managed to get some information out of him; if she was looking for the Dark Brotherhood she should investigate the Bazaar sewers. Simple enough.

Meri rolled her eyes as she made her way through Mournhold Plaza, of course the den of assassins was set up in the sewers. It felt cliche to the point of poor planning, shouldn't they at least have a codelocked safehouse? Though maybe she should take it as a warning, if they were that blatant it was because they felt safe. Her mind drifted to a checklist of pre-expedition errands as she walked, but she didn't make it far before she felt a prickle on the back of her neck that made her hair stand on end. Was she being watched? She slowed to a stop and turned, scanning the plaza for the source of her discomfort. Her eyes landed on the large ceremonial statue in the center of the square and a shudder crawled up her spine, her feet suddenly glued to the ground. Almalexia's masked gaze seemed to pass through her vanquished foe and onto Meri- and it pinned her in place like a startled deer.

She was suddenly aware of how little she had considered the Tribunal since arriving on Vvardenfell.

The Three had always stayed at the periphery of her thoughts, never breaking through the daily focus of travel or investigation. Too many nights she had collapsed into a fighters guild cot and been sucked into sleep before she could recount the events of the day, much less think ahead to the future. But now the statue made her wonder. She wondered what kind of people - what kind of gods - they were. If she was the Nerevarine, would they know her? Would she know them? What were their stories? Their teachings? She knew nothing. She had learned the proper way to make friends with the ashlanders, to predict cliff racer attacks, even memorized the alchemical properties of near every ingredient in Morrowind, but she knew nothing of its gods. Mostly, consumingly, she wondered about the color of Almalexia's eyes.

She had considered the Tribunal very little, but faced with the visage of Almalexia in her war mask she now found herself unable to consider anything else. She approached the statue slowly, resisting the urge to reach out and touch with a greedy hand. It depicted Almalexia locked in a moment of victory over Mehrunes Dagon, her blade plunged through his abdomen as he recoiled in horror. Even in stone, the instability of the moment was evident. Long claw marks along Almalexia's side, her stance powerful yet faltering, but it was Dagon's face that was twisted in shock and agony.

Etched in stone and larger than life, Almalexia looked every bit a god.

An old, old ache awoke in Meri then. One she had squashed so many times in so many ways, only for it to return tenfold in it's own time. She wondered if Almalexia would abandon the people of Morrowind the way Meri's gods had abandoned her. No. No, she could see it even in the statue. Dedication, love, divinity, power. A living god, one you could see and touch, whose loving hand you could feel in the flesh. Desire and curiosity bloomed in her chest in equal measure, taking her beyond wonder and dangerously close to tunnel vision. She needed to find a book, a priest, anything that could tell her about the goddess in the statue.

Somewhere in her a small voice of reason tried to draw her away. It insisted that whatever she felt now was dangerous, that following it would end in tears if she were lucky and blood if she wasn't. But Meridian had never been a woman of reason, nor was she particularly fearful of her blood being shed. And the voice was not loud enough to distract her from the expertly carved coils of hair that fell loosely around the slope of Almalexia's neck, nor the defined musculature of her arms. She pulled her journal and charcoals from her backpack; her hands were itching with inspiration and she was not one to deny them. She would sit and sketch as long as she was able and then she would be off to find an inn, a temple, and a bookshop.

The Dark Brotherhood, she decided, would have to wait one more day.

#tes fanfic #tseblr #morrowind fanfic #nerevarine #almalexia #nerevarine/almalexia #morrowind #meri #ayem #sea writes fic sometimes

[dethharmonic]

Community Gardens

Otto Octavius x Reader; Alternate Universe - Magic Summary: While your trip to the market is brief, boy does it end up being A Lot. Chpt 5: controlled burn

[prev]  [next]

[click here for the fic on ao3]

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

The walk into town was uneventful, for you at least. For Otto, it was a constant struggle to keep you on track. While discussing the latest research you had done, you would continuously get far too involved in the conversation and stop walking. So he moved on to silence, in which you would get sidetracked by the fauna and flora of the area. At one point he turned to say something to you only to see you a few paces back, peering into the forest with a puzzled expression. With a sigh, he made his way to loom at your side.

     “Arm.”

     “Yeesh! Don’t sneak up on people!! Also, what?”

Forgoing an explanation, he gently took hold of your arm and linked it though his. Yes, it was a gentlemanly gesture, but it was more-so because keeping you focused at times was akin to trying to heard a very excited ferret. Thus, a leash of sorts.

     “How you haven’t been stolen away by fae-folk yet is beyond me.”

     “Oh, that’s because they usually only take nice things,” you replied offhandedly, the casual self-degradation slipping off your tongue without a second thought. In the small pause of conversation you began playing with the fabric of his sleeve as you both began walking again. “At least that’s what I’ve heard.”

     “And so, my confusion” he sighed out.

     “Aww, is the powerful magic man calling me nice?” you teased.

     “A delight.” He fondly recalled your words from a week or so ago. “Don’t get cocky about it.”

You let out a soft huff of air in response, but there was no actual annoyance behind it. A fact given away by the goofy smile plastered on your face; Otto wearing a similar, if more subtle, smile.

The town was a bit nerve-wracking at first, being in a new portion of the surprisingly large marketplace and at a busy time of day no less. Though you had explored a little of the area before, its clear you must have done so on an off day. Otto’s arm was a welcome presence, clinging to it helped to soothe the near over stimulation stemming from the crowd of shoppers. For a few shops Otto merely introduced you as his assistant and guided you through placing orders for important ingredients. It seemed like those buildings pressed down on you both, the feeling like the interactions were very begrudgingly done following you both out the door. The back-alley shops and carts were a different vibe entirely. While the former were quiet and rushed dealings, the latter were drawn out affairs; almost more chit-chat than business.

  It was during one of these visits that you had finally completely checked out for the day. How he kept up with all this was beyond your comprehension.

Had you not been at your mental limit, the current shop would have you bouncing off the walls. More books than you could count lined the walls of the cramped room. A mess that would normally have your fingers itching to dig into. A hefty crate sat on the counter filled with an assortment of beautifully bound journals, spell-books, and the occasional scroll. After several minutes of silence on your part, Otto looked over to see you wringing your hands while staring unblinkingly out the window at the food cart across the alley-way. An actuator gently nudged at your side, startling you out of whatever daze you’d fallen into.

     “Sorry,” you said remorsefully. After all, you were here for a reason.

     “You apologize too much.” Immediately you attempted to say sorry again, though with a judgmental eyebrow raise from Otto the words were bit back.

“How about we get something to eat and head back home, hmm?” He glanced to the gray sky, seeing black clouds rolling in towards town. “Looks like it will storm before too long anyway.”

With a relieved sigh, you answered with a subdued nod; letting him lead you out of the shop with his furnace of a hand along your back. This ended up being too much. You should have known this would happen in hindsight, but still you wanted to try. Home sounded nice. The fact that both of you were referring to a singular place not bothering to grace either mind.

The cart had possibly too many options, though it leaned more towards pastries. You both chose some little hand pies and upon contemplating the desserts for an embarrassingly long time, you got a parcel of cookies as well.

Moving to find a place to sit and eat, you came along a small public square. It looked to separate the ritzier shops from the ones that you’d just finished up business at. Benches dotted the outskirts, and a nearby one seemed quiet enough a spot to enjoy lunch. Street performers dotted the square, a small group of musicians tuning up catching your eye. You turned to Otto to point them out, but lost all train of thought when you saw him very intensely looking at his meal before flaking the pastry between his fingers.

     “What on earth are you doing to that poor pie?”

He froze a moment before responding to you, embarrassment flushing his ears a light pink.

     “I uh,” he cleared his throat, not sure how to explain himself but trying nonetheless. “I was wondering if that food cart may have had a brick and mortar shop years ago. The crust is remarkably similar to the ones that my Rosie liked to pick up for us before…” he trailed off, looking ahead to avoid any reaction you may have at the mention of the accident. Anger at the destruction he was used to, or even the cold shoulder that many preferred, but it was the pity regarding his late wife that soured his stomach the most. He wasn’t sure he could stand seeing that look come from you.

After studying his profile for a moment you nodded, which he didn’t see, and took a bite of your own hand pie. Chewing seemed to take longer during conversations, it gave you time to think. “We could always ask them next time, you know.” He finally looked back to you, a wary confusion gracing his features. You knew enough that she had passed in the accident. This was the first he had ever spoke of her to you and though you burned to know what she was like, you were aware that pit of grief was not your to dig in unprompted.

Relief washed through him, letting out a breath that he didn’t realize he had been holding. “Yeah,” he responded quietly, a small smile mirroring your own, “I suppose we could.”

The band had drawn a decently sized crowd while you had been talking, already one song in. Your meals were just about finished when they started their second song, an upbeat number that had some of the couples in the crowd break off to dance. Happily swaying along in your seat, Otto suddenly rose and swiftly turned to offer his hand to you.

     “C’mon,” he said while nodding in the musician’s direction.      “Oh uh…I don’t know,” you meekly replied, moving your hand to meet his on instinct. “I have no idea how to dance.”

     “That’s fine, neither do I.” A wink was all you had in warning before he grabbed you up, one hand in yours and the other firmly on your waist. Brain left back in your seat, you moved mindlessly alongside Otto. Letting him lead you this way and that, it’s possible that he was fibbing about not knowing how to dance. His steps were graceful, as fluid as the rivers of silver flowing from his back.

You were happy. The thought absently rolled through your mind as Otto twirled you around. Not sure of the last time you were certain of the feeling of absolute joy, but right now you felt it deep in your heart. That sentiment poured from you, coloring the laughter as an actuator helped to support you in a low dip. As the musicians seemed to wrap up, so did the impromptu dancing. Breathless, Otto took a long look at you and though the sky remained overcast, he swore he felt the warm rays of the sun.

In the small walk back to your belongings heaped next to the bench, it dawned on you that for being a town pariah, Otto sure did deal with a lot of vendors.

Thankfully unlike your initial trek into the woods for supplies, he didn’t make you lug around the two very full bags you’d filled to the brim. Heading towards the road home, you were still under the impression you were done for the day. Just in time, it seemed, as it looked like the storm would start any minute now. Both of you having dressed for nice early summer day, you’d be soaked to the bone if so.

You had been steadily walking in pace with Otto, but he suddenly slowed and eventually stopped altogether, prompting you to look back in confusion. To most the look on his face would be that of a troubled man, brow knotted and a deep frown; you knew it better as his thinking face. After a moment of patient waiting on your part, he seemed to come to some conclusion as he nodded and looked your way.

Before you could voice any question, an actuator tugged at your shirt sleeve and another placed the heavy bags at your feet. “Stay here a moment, please.”

     “Uh, okay?” You gave the claw at your elbow a pat before glancing back up to him. “Why?”

     “I forgot something,” he paused, maybe thinking of elaborating further before deciding against it. “It’ll be quicker if I go by myself, so don’t move.”

     “You got it, Sir.” You gave a halfhearted thumbs up, already bending over to rummage through the bags for the package of cookies you’d gotten earlier. A snort of a laugh was all the response given, and by the time you popped back up with your prize he was already gone. “How is he so fast,” you muttered in astonishment. “What the hell.”

Focused on scooping a cookie out and closing the bag back up, you almost didn’t notice the soft rumble of thunder. A fat drop of cold water hit the back of your neck as you leaned back down to replace the bundle of cookies.

     “Oh, come on.” Still bent over, you grimaced skywards. Maybe the sheer disdain in your look would end the rain before it started. Another drop landed directly in an eye. Despite wearing glasses. Apparently you are not strong enough to sway the clouds.

Anxiously you shoved the cookie to your mouth while gathering up the bags. Otto would probably be a little miffed you moved, but you weren’t sure if the rain would ruin anything and you didn’t want to chance it. Scurrying back to the edge of the square, you quickly found an awning of a closed shop to stand under. So engrossed in your rain escape, you hadn’t noticed the eyes that followed. Eyes that noticed the fearsome wizard had left your side. Like prowling coyotes, a pair of women hurried through the sparse drizzle to take shelter under the same large awning you had chose. Far enough to not breath down your neck, but close enough that it made you a bit wary. From the corner of your eye, you saw one nudge the other towards you with an odd expression.

       “You’re not wanted here,” an almost monotone voice came from the closest woman, clearly straining to be calm.

You shouldn’t indulge them.

Ignore them.

     “Whatever you are, this town doesn’t need it. Especially not with that freakish excuse for a man you’re here with.” The words cracked out like a whip, snapping your head towards them. The heat of anger lapped at your skin.      “You know what happened to the last little thing he mingled with?” As she spoke, movement shifted your gaze to the passersby that swarmed to see this new entertainment play out.      “He killed her,” the second woman almost gleefully remarked. “Blew her right up with half the city. And they were married for years! Just imagine how little he probably cares for your safety,” she hissed these words, hot as steam. You flinched back as if this would help you avoid the pain.

     “T-that….that’s not–”

    “You know I gave plenty warning,” a man interjected, the very same you’ve been consistently running into since purchasing your home, breaking from the small gathering crowd to address them. “Doesn’t matter in the long run, maybe they’ll off each other in those woods. Better for everyone. Lord knows we certainly don’t need any more of your kind running around.”

He turned to you now, getting a single step forward before a metallic blur shot past, connecting to the ground with a solid thunk. An actuator stood between you, a breath away from the man and almost crackling with the energy of lightening ready to hit. With Otto’s appearance most of the crowd scattered away, leaving just a few of the nastier people. The ones too stupid to scatter.

The man seemed to finally snap from his shock, bristling and sputtering indignities. He was either VERY foolish or thought himself brave (you could take a bold guess as to which was true), as he attempted to begin his verbal tirade anew.

     “Shhh-shhh-sh, shush.” Otto raised his fingers to his lips, a motion that commanded rather than suggested silence as a faint shimmery haze wove into the air around his hand. A matching vapor took place around the throat of the other man, you couldn’t seem to find it in yourself to care what spell was being used. It got results. “I don’t recall allowing you to speak.”

Otto lowered his hand, still pulsing with the spell, and stiffly held it flat at his side. The quiet that followed was heavy, a test.

     “I’m not sure what passes for polite conversation these days, but you fine folks don’t seem to be too worried about that. I’ll say this only once; back off. This is a mercy I will not extend again.”

With that he wrapped his free arm around you, pulling you close to his side. The dizzy panic that had been almost all consuming began to ebb away as he gently pressed a kiss to your temple.     “Are you okay?” he whispered, hot breath breezing over your cheekbone.

     “I…” you began, but quickly fell silent as your eyes flicked over to where the group had been. They had fled the moment Otto turned his attention away, the only one left being the unfortunate excuse for a person still under the shackles of his spell. Words seemed too hard. So instead you nodded, clutching his arm, and hoped he understood that you wanted to leave immediately. Thunder rumbled in the distance. He turned you towards the wall of plant-life encapsulating the way home. In the corner of your eye, Otto’s hand began to relax, the shimmer of the spell clearing. A cold wind kicked up as you walked forward, almost masking the sound of footsteps behind.

As you came to the large boulder, actuators not holding bags swept forward. Well, if you came back to town that won’t be a problem anymore. Because they flung that rock deep into the nearby underbrush as if it was a pebble. The lightening finally pealed across the sky, a mirrored flash of light quickly bursting from Otto’s clenched hand.

You ignored the thump that followed.

Certain you were far enough from any harm possibly caused by the townsfolk, Otto reluctantly withdrew his grip on you. A shiver ripped through you at the departure.

Emerging from the overgrowth surrounding other side of the road’s entrance, you were startled by the sudden cold drops of rain that had begun in earnest. The feeling lasted only a few seconds, though the rain was clearly continuing on ahead of you. Raising your head stilled the question on your lips, seeing a small domed barrier sprouting from the claw of an actuator above the two of you. Possibly the weirdest umbrella you’ve come across, but it did the job. Otto showed no signs of slowing when arriving at his home. Why did that send pinpricks of dread through you? A quick glance at his face as you trekked forward revealed nothing, his gaze fixed ahead and expression blank. As much as you desperately wanted to say something, anything really, you stayed silent. For the remainder of the walk, the only sounds you focused on were the familiar crunch of gravel below and the steady drum of rain above. Upon arrival at your home, the weight of silence was almost crushing. It was unbearable, so you you moved to speak. Otto instead abruptly stuck out a rectangular package wrapped in thick brown paper. When you failed to move, he gently grasped your wrist to bring your hand up to cradle it.

     “Oh, uh. Thank you?” The words tumbled clumsily, held back by confusion. “What is—”

     “I think we should end your apprenticeship,” he hurried out.

It took a moment for you to react at all, like when nicking a finger with a knife so sharp you don’t notice the slice until blood wells out. The grip on your gift turned hard enough that the paper tore a bit under your fingertips.

He couldn’t stand to see the results of his words, so Otto pulled you into his arms. The act was selfish, he thought briefly. Cowardly. Another thought barreled through to say at least he wasn’t so selfish to ruin your life by sullying it with his. He blocked out any more thoughts before the correct one could grace his brain: This was wrong, he was being foolish.

     “It’s for the best,” he murmurs into your hair, threading his fingers through the strands. You both know the grip is too tender, the moment far too soft to convince you he truly meant the words. So he sets his jaw and repeats. “It’s for the best.”

A broken sound bubbled past your dam of silence, causing him to pull away to look at you. Angry tears brimmed the kind eyes he was accustomed to, you refused his gaze. You broke free of the whisper of a hold he had on you and swiftly made way into your home. The wooden door slammed behind like an iron gate. In feeling too many emotions, you in turn felt numb. Like a statue you stood, staring at the hastily wrapped package as thoughts turned to static.

Don’t even open it.

Just start up a fire and toss it in.

You ripped at the paper covering.

Pressing your back to the door, you slid down to meet the worn wooden floorboards.

A book of magic, possibly the most beautiful one you’ve ever seen.

     “Idiot,” you choked out. Not sure who exactly you were cursing.

#otto octavius #doc ock #otto octavius x reader #magic!ock au #dethwrites #mixed feelings about how this chapter turned out lol

[itsaash]

Fic-o-Ween Day 12: Trick or Treat

Fic-o-ween Day 12: Trick or Treating

Character credit to @lumosinlove and prompt from @noots-fic-fests

Rating: E

...but... I've only included the first half of this fic here on tumblr. The rest, including all the explicit parts, are just on ao3. Partly this just made me feel more comfortable today, that anyone reading the E parts has chosen to click through. Also, it's way too long to scroll through it all on tumblr. So the parts posted here are teen.

Pairings: Coops and James/Lily

Summary: After some sweet Halloween party and trick or treating fluffiness, Sirius, Lily, and Logan change costumes and the party changes to become the type of party that everyone keeps disappearing from.

cws: food/drink mentions, smut, 18+ for full fic

Read on ao3, if you prefer. 7600 words

“Hey Re?” Sirius called out, his hands deep in the dish water, turning pruny and white, washing away the remnants of chicken and rice and vegetables that Remus had made taste actually really good.

“Yeah, baby?” Remus called back.

“You want to have a halloween party here this year?”

“Sure, love. What were you thinking?” Remus walked back into the kitchen, popping his hip against the counter by Sirius, arms crossed. 

Sirius’ eyes trailed along Remus’ biceps, then returned to the water.

“Um, I want to hand out candy? Like, I’ve gone with the Dumais trick or treating, and it’s so fun. But I’ve never handed out candy in my own house?” His voice raised up like it was a question, or like he was worried that Remus would think this was unbearably weird. 

Remus came up behind him, linking his arms around his ribs in a deep hug. 

“That sounds amazing. I would get a few kids from the building when I was in my apartment, but you’re right, it’s not the same as a house. Our house.” He laughed and Sirius felt the rumbling through his back. “We would get hundreds of kids at my place growing up, mom and dad took shifts at the door and would hardly sit down all night.”

Sirius smiled. “Yeah, exactly. I want to do that.”

Remus hummed, smiling into Sirius’ back. “I see one problem though baby, we have a gate, and you’re Sirius Black.”

Sirius dried his hands and turned in Remus’ arms, leaning back against the counter and pulling Remus into his body. 

“And you’re Remus Lupin.”

“Mhm. That’s hardly the same thing, but my point remains.”

“I know, I know. I think I might have an idea about that too though?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the night of the party and Sirius had been excitedly decorating all afternoon, planning and shopping for weeks. He didn’t want anyone to do it for him this year. The gates were open, and string lights of tiny pumpkins followed the path up to the front door. He hadn’t chosen any gory decorations, worried that Harry would be scared. He found out later that Harry had loved every single decoration he saw while trick or treating with his parents, so he needn't have worried, but it was his first time decorating himself. He, Remus, James, and Lily had carved pumpkins earlier in the week and now they lined the walkway and doorstep, and there were no less than three blow up decorations scattered around the front yard. But, the best part was the guards. 

Sirius gave Fabian a fist bump as he double checked the outside of the house. 

“Ready, Fab?”

“Yeah, Cap,” Fabian laughed. “This is going to be awesome.”

Sirius knew he couldn’t have who-knows-who just show up at his front door all night. He hoped the location of their house wasn’t too well known, and it’s not like they advertised that they’d be handing out candy this year. Hopefully, it would just be families who happened to walk by. But just in case, he had asked Fabian and Gideon, twin security guards from the rink, if they’d be willing to work his door for a few hours. They were dressed immaculately like suits of armour. They had helmets that could easily be lifted up or down and their faces were painted silver, their costumes rang satisfyingly when you knocked on the breastplates, and they were ready to scare the everloving shit out of trick or treaters (in the most fun way possible). Sirius hoped they would blend in with the decorations when the sun went down, the twins were eerily good at standing still. Jump scare at the right moment, and hopefully no one would notice the person handing out candy looked a bit familiar. 

“Should we have an age limit of who we scare?” Gideon asked. 

“Well, maybe don’t make babies cry,” Sirius laughed. “And don’t let anyone try to get into my house, and we’ll be good.”

“No problem, Cap. It’s going to be awesome.”

“And maybe try to scare Pots? Or Dumo?” 

Fabian and Gideon laughed. “We’ll try, Cap.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Remus wasn’t sure the last time he had seen Sirius smile so much, for so long. He had been prancing around, decorating, plotting with Gid and Fab, touching up the spiderweb placement all over the house and setting out the ingredients for Halloween themed cocktails. He had bought more candy (full sized chocolate bars, of course) than Remus was sure they’d need for two Halloween’s, and he made sure to have options that were gluten free, sugar free, peanut free. Remus had happily made some dips and set out chips, and also happily watched Sirius smile, and laugh, and live in his house like it was a home. Their home. Watching Sirius come down in a full Batman suit wasn’t bad either. 

The top of his face was covered in the full mask and he had a costume that looked like it could have come from the movie set. Remus laughed.

“Holy shit, baby, you look amazing.”

Batman came close, smile wide, and hugged Remus tightly. 

“Ouais? Is my secret identity safe?”

“You know, I really think it is. People could think that your muscles are padding in the costume, so not even your buffness gives you away,” Remus teased, trailing his hands appreciatively over Sirius’ (unpadded) shoulders and arms.

Remus was exquisitely happy that the costume left Sirius’ lips free, and he pressed up on his toes to capture them in a kiss. Sirius licked into his mouth, pressing their bodies together.

“My buffness, eh?” Sirius smiled into the kiss.

“Shut up,” Remus argued weakly.

“Ready for a good Halloween, mon loup?”

“Mhm, yes. I still want you to be a firefighter again some year when I can do something about it.” Remus murmured between kisses. 

“I’m sure I could be convinced. Maybe we’ll sneak up to our room together this year, instead of you snooping on your own,” Sirius growled, pressing his hips towards Remus. 

“I’m not sure going to our own room, in our own house, during a party we’re hosting, has quite the same hook up appeal as you’re implying,” Remus laughed. 

“But I never got to hook up with boys at parties before,” Sirius pouted, resting their foreheads together, arms still locked around each other. 

“Oh we can hook up,” Remus said softly, right into Sirius’ ear. “Just not in our own bed.”

Sirius groaned, dropping his head back, then smiled impishly. “I look forward to it.”

“Ok, baby, I have to go get my costume on now,” Remus said, pushing away. Sirius watched him all the way up to the stairs, before remembering that he was filling the coolers with ice. He had a party to finish prepping for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

James bounced around the house, taking his cowboy hat on and off his head repeatedly. He made sure the black button nose painted on Harry's nose was perfect and redid the whiskers that Harry had smudged in the last three minutes. He grabbed the pumpkin bucket for collecting candy, and a pillowcase for the overflow, all the while taking dozens of pictures. He loved Halloween. Dressing up, choosing an adorable costume for Harry, seeing Lily in a costume that she always made look sexy, whether it was meant to be or not. Candy, parties, visiting neighbours and talking to the people at each house. It was the best. It was funny that the holiday that was supposedly the wicked holiday was the one where you knock on your neighbour’s doors, say hello, exchange presents and small talk. Just, you know, in costume. 

He and Lily took Harry and the wagon around to the houses near them. By the end of their short route Harry was sitting in the wagon, completely surrounded by candy, having dumped out his bucket into the wagon to wade through it like a ball pit of candy. They made their way to Sirius’ house, Harry vibrating in his car seat on a sugar high. James could relate. 

“We see Loops, mama?” Harry said, though it sounded adorably more like “whoops”. 

“Yes, baby, we’re going to Loops’ house,” Lily answered.

“And seerus! And bwiz! And Katie!” Harry went on like this, listing his friends, until they pulled into the driveway. 

“Wowza,” James whistled. “Cap went all out with the decorations.”

“Looks amazing,” Lily agreed. She eyes the door and the decorated front step. “You head in with the bags, love. I’ll grab Harry.”

James grabbed their bags from the back and pressed his hat down over his eyes, looking forward to giving Cap a “howdy partner,” in his best southern accent when he got to the door. 

Instead, he nearly had a fucking heart attack. 

“Aarghhh!” yelled the statues on either side of the door, and James startled so badly he stumbled backwards nearly falling. His sluggish hindbrain eventually realized the statues weren’t attacking him and he took a knee, like he was listening to coach at practice. He dipped his head down, trying to recover, shaking his head, not sure whether his body wanted him to run, cry, or laugh. After a few deep breaths with his heart racing like he’d played three shifts, and with laughter ringing through the air around him, he finally looked up. 

“Fab?” he asked, still bewildered. 

“Pots! Your face ,” Fabian laughed.  They were both bent over double, laughing, in their stupid fucking perfect suit of armour costumes. 

“What the fuck?” James asked, betrayed. “Sirius put you up to this?”

“What’s going on out here…?” Sirius opened the door, coming out to see Gid and Fab still laughing and James still down on one knee. “No! I missed it?” He turned to Fabian, “Did you get him good?”

“So good, Cap, he was completely fucking got, he had no clue.”

“Of course I had no clue! How could I expect to be betrayed at my best friend’s house? What if I had been holding Harry?”

“Well we wouldn’t have done it, if you were holding Harry.”

James shook his head and turned to Sirius.

“Did you set this up just to get me? I will put oil in your gloves.”

“Non, no! They’re here to guard the door, and do that to trick or treaters all night,” he waved vaguely in James’ scared-as-shit position. “Getting you was just a bonus.”

“Bonus,” Jame repeated, finally feeling steady enough to rise to his feet. Lily and Harry joined him then. Lily ran her hand over his lower back soothingly. “Lily, they scared me.”

Lily reached up to tap his cheek. “Happy Halloween lover,” she teased. 

“I wanna be scar’d!” Harry squealed, and Fab and Gid played at being still and then jumping at Harry for 10 minutes at least. James followed Lily into the house, her tight black batman costume irresistible to follow. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius bounced between answering the door, making cocktails, laughing with his friends. Seeing all the little kids in their costumes was priceless. He loved having his friends over anytime, but getting to intersperse the party with answering the door to adorable yells of “trick or treat!” made it even better. He and Remus took turns answering the door, or would call to each other if there was an especially cute costume to look at. He loved the moments when Gid and Fab would go still again, and another group would come up the path while one was still at the door, and the first group would eagerly watch the next set of people fall victim to the jump scare. It was the circle of scares. 

At 9:00 Sirius closed his gate and waved goodbye to Gid and Fab, wishing them a Happy Halloween. He didn’t want to try his luck, and the little kids were the cuter ones to see at the door anyways. And he had a phase two of his night planned that did not include other people at his door. 

He came in, stretched his back, popping it satisfyingly. A smile grew on his face and he found Logan, hitting him in the stomach. 

“Gate’s closed, Tremz. The party can start for real now, eh?”

Logan’s eyes met Sirius’ and their eyes sparkled. 

“What the fuck was that look?” Finn asked, looking between them. “Aren’t we already partying?”

“Oui, of course, Harz. I’ll just go get another drink,” Logan said, and walked away with Sirius, leaving Finn looking suspiciously after them.

Sirius went and found Lily next. 

“Hey Lils,” he said, flopping onto the couch by her and Marlene. 

“Hey Batman. Good party,” she said, tipping her glass to him. 

“Merci. Harry downstairs?” “Yep, Adele and her friend have turned out to be excellent babysitters and they’re all playing or watching a movie. I’m sure he’ll be crashing soon.”

“Excellent. Phase two?” 

The side of Lily’s mouth quirked up and she laughed.

“Absolutely.” 

“What the hell is phase two?!” Marlene called after them, as the two versions of Batman walked away, laughing with zero chill. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#fic o ween 2022 #sweater weather #lumosinlove #halloween party #writing these fics lately has been super fun #but back to editing next podfic now! #It's 94% recorded :) #did anyone guess what it is?

[screechthemighty]

Following up a lengthy post complaining about extreme focus on romance in fandom with the last chapter of my ship fic is extremely funny of me, actually. But also in my defense this is just as much about Marc and Reese as it is Marc and Layla, because Reese is awesome. Anyways, last mini-fic in this collection! I can resume focus on meet me at our spot after this! AO3 link in a reblog and also I hope you enjoy it!

you're the song i sing again and again

ix.

Prompts: brushing against each other, even if there is enough room / leaning into the other person

.

Marc was the hardest one to figure out.

Steven was open, chatty, very friendly. Jake liked to be cryptic and vague, but it was mostly a joke, and he was open when it mattered. Reese felt like she knew the both of them about as well as any co-worker. But Marc? Marc was a closed book. He kept his mask on and didn’t talk about himself. She only knew his name was Marc because Steven and Jake called him that. If it weren’t for them, she’d only known him as Moon Knight or Mr. Knight. It was…weird sometimes, but Marc was an all right guy, so she let it slide.

It always threw her off when something did slip through. Especially when it was something like what she saw with him and Layla.

She almost didn’t say anything, because she was pretty sure she wasn’t supposed to see it. She’d heard them talking in one of the Mission’s spookier rooms; when she peeked inside, they were standing in front of a bookshelf talking about a scroll or something. Normal conversion to have.

Except Marc was standing right up in Layla’s personal space with one hand on the small of her back. And Reese got the impression Layla wouldn’t have let him do that if she wasn’t okay with it. That gut feeling was confirmed when Layla faced Marc and touched his cheek (his unmasked cheek, which was a special kind of Pride and Prejudice type scandalous from Reese’s perspective). Reese bailed about then. She was gonna leave it alone, but curiosity ate at her all day. Frenchie showing up just gave her an outlet.

“Okay, don’t tell Mr. Knight I asked this,” she said, “but, uh…is there something going on with him and Scarab?”

“And by Mr. Knight you mean…?”

“Marc.”

Frenchie raised an eyebrow. “Ma sœur, they’re married.”

That hit her like a ton of bricks. “Marc’s married?!” she said a little louder than she meant to.

Of course, after the words left her mouth, she saw movement in the hallway. A figure in white, some shuffling awkward steps. The figure that stepped into the room was Mr. Knight, but he was adjusting his outfit as he came in–pulling down the sleeves, fiddling with the gloves. “Okay, what’re we…” He spotted Frenchie and the mask came off. “Ah, mon meilleur ami, are we flying today?”

“Ask Marc. He called me.”

Yeah, about that, Reese thought, a sinking feeling settling into her gut. I think I might have scared him off.

She had to stew in that thought for a while. Mr. Knight and Frenchie left to kick some ass, leaving Reese alone with the House and the phones. “What do you think?” she said aloud to the empty room. “How do I handle this?”

The house creaked, but Reese couldn’t tell if it was trying to talk back to her. Sometimes, she could swear it did. She knew the house was alive, that it could hear them. But today, she could’ve just been hearing the pipes.

Guess I’m on my own with this one.

She got her chance later, though a bit suddenly. She’d just gone out to Mr. Knight’s office to drop off some phone logs, only to find him in there. She knew that it was Marc–his sleeves were rolled up, he’d taken off the jacket, and, most tellingly, his desk and other work surfaces were nearly pristine. Steven always managed to get the office messy again within minutes; Jake existed somewhere in the middle of that spectrum. “Busy night?” Mr. Knight asked clumsily.

“Not really.” Reese put the papers in their designated spot and took a deep breath. “Hey, I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean anything by it, I just…didn’t realize, you know? I don’t know a lot about you, so it took me off guard.”

Mr. Knight didn’t say anything at first. His hands knotted anxiously on the desk and he wouldn’t look directly at her. “It’s…”

With a sigh, he took the mask off. Reese worried for a second that maybe he’d switched, but it seemed like it was still Marc. Neither Steven nor Jake ever looked that tense. Marc straightened up and smoothed back his hair, but still wouldn’t look directly at her. “I’m not…” he cleared his throat. “...used to people knowing things about me. I’m not really used to any of this. I know it sounds stupid when you know about…” He gestured towards a nearby whiteboard, with three distinct sets of handwriting scattered across it. “...that, but…I’m just adjusting.”

That made sense. Jake had said Marc was shy. “For what it’s worth, you two did a good job hiding it,” she said. “I really had no idea. If you don’t mind me asking…” She had a lot of questions, actually, but only one really burning one. “How do Khonshu and Taweret feel about this?”

Marc snorted. “Khonshu gets bitchy every time I try to have a date night. Taweret loves me for some reason. She found out about Valentine’s day and tried to set something up for us.”

Reese laughed, startled. “No.”

“Yeah, we, uh, told her not to do that again.” Marc buried his face in his hands. He was smiling when he finally let them drop. “Steven said it could’ve been worse. If she was the avatar of Isis, we’d have the goddess of marriage butting in every time we have an argument.”

Reese actually had to sit down from laughter. “Oh, no. That’d be so much worse.”

“Most overbearing mother in law on the planet…” Marc trailed off, made a noise like he’d been punched, and covered his mouth. “Fuck, man. Sorry. Jake…inside joke. Pun not intended.”

Not an inside joke Reese was going to be privy to any time soon, if she had to guess. That was okay. She didn’t have to know everything about Marc.

But she was a little glad she knew this. If nothing else, now she knew any office romances were as HR approved as they could get with their little group.

#moon knight #fic: you're the song i sing again and again

[peachcitt]

fanfic year in review - 2020

hey laddies i was tagged by both @miabrown007 and @strangerahne to do this, so without further ado here we go!

1) List of fics completed this year in the order they were finished: 

Bone Tea (march) // All These Selfish Feelings (march) // Doomed from the Start (may) // Wouldn’t it be Nice (may) // my favorite set of stairs is the one up to your room (may) // screw the classics, and screw you for believing in them (june) // Friendship Bracelets (june) // Those Benevolent Stars (june) // the dark and the stained glass watchers (july) // Bloodsucker (july) // Messy Advances (july) // Happy Endings, the Sun, and Other Steps to Madness (july) // Guessing Game (august) // Passion Fruit Sunset [zine piece, currently unavailable] (september) // Home Coming [zine piece, currently unavailable] (november) // here (november) // bread and oranges (november) // clarity (november) // burgundy, near black (december) // About Emma Martin (december) // cherries (december) // falling, flying (december) // aloe-infused fuzzy socks (december)

23 fics??? okay well looking at it like this just makes me feel ridiculous

2) Number of words written:

219,184 words (which includes my unfinished fics on ao3 and the wips i haven’t posted)

again looking at it like this just makes me feel ridiculous

3) Your most popular fic:

friendship bracelets - the first in the series of my homoerotic college au zukka fics. honestly? i can’t even say im surprised

4) Your personal fav:

MAN this is hard. okay it’s gotta be a four-way tie between bone tea, those benevolent stars, home coming, and screw the classics and screw you for believing in them but really i could be lying because i wrote so much this year (i guess now last year?) that i was really really proud of 

5) Your fav scene:

okay i have a lot of favorites but for right now i’ll say: the scene in chapter 3 of those benevolent stars when adrien and marinette are sitting on the banks of the seine and they talk about their favorite colors and adrien’s soulmate - it’s such a quiet and gentle moment, and because you know that their favorite colors are based off each other’s eyes but only marinette knows that and because you know adrien is talking about his soulmate to his soulmate and she knows it but he doesn’t. it’s full of such beautiful, tragic dramatic irony that i just love so so much

6) A fic or scene that challenged you:

hm okay the last few chapters of bone tea were definitely challenging not only because of, like, the big fight scenes (which, im not really comfortable writing fight scenes) but also because i had take all of the mess of emotions in bt and wrap it all up into a conclusion that needed to be satisfying. the same could be said about happy endings, the sun, and other steps to madness (minus the fight scene part)

writing impure - my changeling jim au fic - has also been a fun challenge because i basically watch trollhunters episodes as i write, examining each line of dialogue and each character interaction and seeing how that scene or relationship would be changed by the fact that jim is a changeling. it was also a little challenging to keep everything fresh and new - especially at the times when the dialogue from the show stayed the same in the fic, but so far, im really really happy with the way the fic is going

7) A line of writing you’re proud of:

off the top of my head are these two lines, both from screw the classics:

It was the ‘Daisy, Daisy, Daisy’s, over and over. Like her name conveyed some sort of deeper meaning that she expected Daisy to be able to understand. Like if she repeated it enough, it would become a sort of prayer that God would listen to, that He would enact to make Daisy put her fists away for once in her pitiful life. It was just “Daisy, Daisy, Daisy” over and over until her name stopped sounding like a name, like a word, and it was just a sound to fill the silence so that neither of them would have to talk about the way Basira’s touch lingered each time she wiped blood away or the way Daisy would always sit so that her knees touched Basira’s even though they were on the floor and there was more than enough room for them to breathe different air.

and

But sometimes Jon was easier than Basira. He didn’t have any of Basira’s softness - he was all edges and sharp lines. His elbows were basically knives, and his hips were edged with broken glass.

the first paragraph i really love because there’s almost a rhythm to it - like poetry - and i love the sound of it and all that it means in the context of the fic. 

the second little bit i just love because every so often i think about it and i love the imagery and metaphor and the way it fits jon - in canon and in this fic. in this fic, they’re all in high school so jon is gangly and skinny and bony and in general, he’s just abrasive and a little rude. this description of him i just love (and the way i described him from martin’s pov in doomed from the start; “Jonathan Sims looked, even from a distance, as if he was perpetually smelling something awful. His features, just left of handsome, were marred by furrowed eyebrows and a distasteful frown.”)

8) A comment that touched you:

LITERALLY SO MANY????? the comments on the final chapter of bone tea, telling me that the story was something that they loved and found comfort in, the long comments on any of my fics detailing their exact favorite parts, the comments that were just short jokes that made me laugh out loud - literally i can’t pinpoint one. im just so thankful to have written things that people respond to with such kindness and love

9) Something that inspired your writing:

music!!!!!! i found myself making playlists for a few of my fics this year or listening to specific old playlists of mine for the right mood for a fic, and it’s really inspired me to write

also, as always, my own personal experiences. i thought and felt a lot this year, and i think in every single one of the fics i posted this year, you can probably find a central thought or feeling driving it that no doubt comes from my personal life

10) Your proudest accomplishment (that one scene; finally finishing that one fic; posting your first fic; etc):

finishing bone tea and tying the title to the fic!!!!!!!! finishing happy endings and also tying that title to the fic!!!!!! getting accepted into two different zines and working with two different amazing artists and completing those fics!!!!!!!! literally writing anything at all!!!!!!!!!

11) Do you have any writing goals for the next year?

i think mainly i just want to write, you know? i want to stop putting so much pressure on myself, because this past year i put so much pressure on myself that i was constantly feeling like i was underperforming (which was, like, super untrue, but you know how it goes) so when i wasn’t writing i felt like i was wasting time. i mean, don’t get me wrong, i had so much fun writing and creating all of these things that im so so proud of, it’s just the space in between writing sessions that i want to let myself breathe in. i don’t want to dread thinking about writing for fun anymore because that’s not fun

besides that, i think my other goals are to just continue forward with my unfinished projects - impure, the new wave, the bone tea extras - and to officially start the other two long fic ideas i have for mlb that ive been really excited about for a long while. this past year i wrote a lot of one shots (like. so many. oh my god) so maybe this year i might focus on long projects. who knows though definitely not me it’ll be a surprise for all of us

=

anyway that’s all!! thanks mia and strangerahne for tagging me!! ive been needing a lot of reminders lately that i have, in fact, written this year, and having to, like, do math and scroll through my ao3 page and all my google docs has been really enlightening so thanks so much for this

i tag: @lnc2, @chatnoirinette, @deinde-prandium, and @rosekasa! y’all don’t have to do this, but i’d love to see how y’all felt about your works this year and also to see y’all love yourselves very much because you deserve it. also literally anyone can do this you can just say i tagged you i don’t mind it’ll be our secret - i highly encourage it because it’s very sweet and very fun to look back on all you’ve accomplished this year

<3<3<3<3

#tag game #GOOD LORD.THIS TOOK ME LIKE TWO HOURS KJFBGLKDFJHLSDIHG:SD #i will admit. most of those two hours was spent trying to figure out my word count akjfghlk #also scrolling through my ao3 and linking all my fics that also took a while #BUT REALLY while i was adding up my word count i just kept on staring at the growing number like ????jfc??????? #i know ive been posting about it a lot lately but the fact that i have had the audacity to keep on getting antsy over not writing??? #literally im ridiculous. OVER 200k WORDS. LITERALLY SHUT UP THAT'S RIDICULOUS. #and the fact that i wrote so much of those words during a pandemic and going through perhaps one of the worst years of my life??? #struggling with personal issues and mental issues and school issues and like. SO MANY ISSUES????? HOW #idk this was just so so validating. also terrifying. god #im scared of myself tbh. i have no idea how i did any of this. i feel like i just. blacked out and now im here and FUCK I JUST FUCKJFHLGJSR #IT JUST SUNK IN THAT IT'S 2021 NOW???????? H O W #like logically i knew 2020 would have to end at some point but like most days felt like fucking decades so ?? #god. it's a whole new year now. that's fuckng wild bro #im feeling emotional. it doesn't help that im listening to my favorite band (armors) now and it's the song that always brings me to myknees #EMPTY AND WORN YOU CARRY ME HOME NOW YOU'RE LETTING GO OF ME BROKEN AND TORN YOU CARRY ME HOME NOW YOU'RE LETTING GO OF ME #tell me that doesn't send you into a State. you can't. fuck. #(the song is comatose by armors btw) #SPEAKING of armors when i was typing out the fics i had written this year i realized that two fics in a row were named after armors songs #all these selfish feelings (chlonette; lyric from portland by armors) and doomed from the start (jonmartin; lyric from name by armors) #im literally so lame. and that's fine #also i scrolled up just now to check and i realized that i have FOUR FICS IN A ROW NAMED AFTER SONGS??? #man i really wasn't kidding when i said i was inspired by music huh sldjfhgsjfh #also in case you're wondering they're all these selfish feelings and doomed from the start and ALSO #wouldn't it be nice (jonmartin; lyrics from wouldn't it be nice by the beach boys) #and my favorite set of stairs is the one up to your room (adrinette; 11:11 by waterparks) #ANYWAY i should be done with this post now sorry for anyone who is still reading for having to deal with my rambling #and goodnight sweet dreams happy new year ily

[mamichigo]

Title: zinnia (2,9k)

Pairing: Dazai/Atsushi

Tags: Pre-Relationship, Grief/Mourning, Introspection, Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death

Rating: G

Summary:

Kunikida asks Atsushi to keep an eye on Dazai after he disappears for awhile.

Warnings: Extensive talk about dealing with the loss of a loved one

My gift for @/AngelSpiritFox and written for the @dazatsu-exchange. This is a bit of a somber one, so it’s a little strange to say this but happy Valentine’s Day. (And honestly did you expect anything other than angst from me?)

Also, link to the fic on AO3 is in the source!

*

Atsushi knew something was wrong from the moment Kunikida approached him and asked, “Do you know where Dazai is?”

Though the cause for concern wasn’t the words itself—Kunikida asked about Dazai’s whereabouts often enough, considering how addicted the man was to disappearing without a word. What alarmed him was Kunikida’s tone: exhausted, yes, but somber. The cadence of his voice lowering into a bottomless pit, something empty and resigned. Atsushi looked around in hopes of finding a clue as to what was going on, but his coworkers seemed as lost as he felt.

Slowly, Atsushi shook his head. “No, I haven’t.” He chewed on his bottom lip. “Did something happen?”

For a moment, Kunikida seemed to ponder if he should answer or not. Then, he sighed and crossed his arms.

“Do me a favor and call him,” Kunikida said. In a quieter voice, he added, “He might pick up if it’s you.”

Although he opened his mouth to protest, Atsushi decided it wasn’t the time for creating silly arguments. He fished his phone out of his pocket and scrolled down to Dazai’s name in his contact list. For no discernible reason, his heart sped up with each dial tone—only to freeze completely when the call connected. Atsushi glanced towards Kunikida, but quickly averted his eyes to the floor.

There was faint static crackling from Dazai’s side, a slight interference from the blowing wind. Atsushi waited a bit, but no other sound surfaced.

“Dazai-san?” Atsushi said.

A deep breath blew into the speaker. Atsushi didn’t have in him to wince, his anxiety too great to allow for a reaction other than a tense gasp.

“Tell Kunikida-kun I’m okay,” Dazai whispered.

It took Atsushi a moment to fully understand what he said.

“Wh—”

Toot, toot, toot… Atsushi moved the phone away from his ear and stared at the screen, where it showed the meager few seconds the call had lasted. 

“So?” Kunikida prompted.

“He asked me to tell you he’s okay…”

It was a marvel in and of itself that Dazai already knew why Atsushi had called, but the chill that seeped into his bones froze his emotions as well. He turned uncertain eyes up at Kunikida, and realized he looked just as defeated as Atsushi felt—maybe even more so.

“Of course he did,” Kunikida grumbled. He ran a finger through his hair, more disveheled than Atsushi had seen him in a while. “Atsushi.”

The authoritative tone made Atsushi square his shoulders on instinct. Maybe this had something to do with a mission, after all. Maybe Atsushi would be sent out as backup for Dazai. For fidget under Kunikida’s stare.

“Y-Yes!”

Kunikida jumped a little when Atsushi talked, and he seemed put-off by his response. Bit by bit, Kunikida relaxed his facial muscles, until the scowl melted into something neutral.

“Listen, this isn’t an order,” he said, each word enunciated slowly. “If you have the time, go visit him.”

‘Visit’? If it wasn’t a work-related situation, he supposed the wording made sense. But still, why would Kunikida urge Atsushi to—

“I’m sure you remember the graveyard from last time?”

“Oh,” Atsushi breathed out, thoughts coming to a halt. “Yes, I do.”

“Good.” Kunikida laid a hand atop his head and said, quietly so only the two of them could hear, “I’m counting on you.”

 *

 This place was the same as Atsushi remembered it, quiet and peaceful, with only the seagulls for company. There was a particular hush that settled around the graveyard that was almost calming—Atsushi wasn’t sure if every cemetery felt the same, or if the atmosphere was exclusive to this place. He wrapped both hands around the can of soda he had brought for Dazai and looked over to the sea. The sunlight shone on the water surface, drawing his eyes to it even as he descended the  steps to find the gravestone set apart from the others.

The S. Oda engraved in the stone was the same he remembered from his last and only visit, but that was the only familiar thing here. There was no head of brown hair resting nearby. Atsushi stepped closer and realized the patch of grass near the tombstone was worn down. Atsushi could imagine Dazai sleeping in that spot all too clearly. He blew a sigh, pushed the image away, and joined his palms for a small prayer.

Once he was done, Atsushi blinked his eyes open and looked around again, but the graveyard was unperturbed by anything other than the sound of the ocean. Dazai was still nowhere to be found.

Discomfort grew in his gut, like he was breaching Dazai’s privacy. Like he wasn’t allowed to be here. Atsushi shuffled on his feet and stared at the gravestone as if it might give him the answers he needed.

“I guess you don’t know where Dazai-san is either, huh?” He mused, but felt silly almost immediately as the silence stretched. Atsushi set a nervous hand on the back of his head. “You wouldn’t be able to tell me if you did anyways.”

His words caught up to him a second later, mortification burning bright on his cheeks. Atsushi bowed and squeaked out, “I mean! Sorry…”

Moisture gathered on his palm, and Atsushi finally remembered he was still carrying a can of rapidly cooling soda. He looked from the can to the gravestone, at a loss for what to do last.

“Kunikida-san seemed sure Dazai would be here,” he mumbled to himself. “I guess I’ll just…”

He crouched and set the can on the grass by the gravestone. Atsushi stared at it for a minute and frowned.

“This somehow feels wrong,” he admitted. He lowered his head in apology. “Next time, I’ll bring you one as well, Oda-san.”

Somewhat satisfied with that arrangement, Atsushi left.

Later in the night, his phone buzzed just as Atsushi had begun to fall asleep. He shot up in surprise, and banged his head right into the closet shelf. Atsushi hissed as he patted the kimono in search of his phone. He grabbed the device and brearily peered at the screen.

There were two messages, both from Dazai.

This soda is warm, Atsushi-kun.

I think I swallowed an ant.

It was a miracle Atsushi managed to cover his mouth just in time to muffle his involuntary snort. His thumb hovered over the keyboards, a billion words thrown around inside his head but never coherent enough to form a proper response. The most Atsushi could muster up was I hope you're okay, something too sincere. Something Dazai was bound to reject.

Still, Atsushi couldn’t bring himself to put the phone down, even if the light burned his tired eyes. Part of him waited for—no, wanted Dazai to text him again. In the low light of his phone and with Dazai’s name engraved in his retina, Atsushi fell asleep.

 *

 At Ranpo's suggestion (who somehow knew of Atsushi's gesture of taking a drink to Dazai), Atsushi carried two bottles of Ramune in his hands. He wasn't too sure about the flavor, so he grabbed the drinks at blind and hoped for the best.

There was no disappointment to be felt when he entered the graveyard to find it empty. In a way, Atsushi expected as much. It would be too lucky to just run into Dazai without any clues of what hours he came by to visit—if he even had a schedule for it at all. 

It didn't stop the ache in his chest, however. A sort of emptiness that he realized came from feeling his mentor's absence.

Atsushi sighed as he placed the bottles down and did his prayers. He lowered his hands slowly, and didn't open his eyes immediately. Although the feeling that he was intruding wasn't completely gone, Atsushi felt strangely welcomed here. He looked down at Oda's gravestone.

"I think I understand why Dazai-san comes here so often," he said quietly. "It's always so peaceful, it feels like the rest of the world is paused."

Again, his eyes were attracted to the ocean view. He wondered if Dazai had been the one to pick this place as his friend's resting ground. Something told him that there was a story behind that choice. He swayed slightly in the ocean breeze.

That ache grew, and with it came the realization that as beautiful as the view from the graveyard was, it was still proof of Oda's death. Atsushi clenched his hands behind his back.

"Maybe that's a little disrespectful to both of you. There's no way he would come here just because it's a nice place, right?" He laughed awkwardly. "To be honest, I don't know how Dazai-san feels."

But that was nothing new, really. Sometimes it felt as if the two of them were worlds apart. If Atsushi were to desperately grab for him, keep him rooted to the earth, would Dazai feel warm in his hands? Would he feel real?

"There's no one in my past to miss," Atsushi admitted. He looked down at the ground, and refrained from scratching at his scars. "If I think about it like that, it's a little lonely."

It brought memories of flower bouquets and a man dead by the road. He thought of the sunset burning the horizon, infinite and beautiful; of Dazai by his side, smiling with that soft countenance that was so characteristic to him.

"It's a lot better now, really. I don't know what I'd do if I lost someone from the Agency." And that was why he would never, could never stop reaching for them. "Caring about someone is a little terrifying, isn't it?"

"You must've been really important to Dazai-san," he mused, voice distant.

What an obvious realization, but Atsushi didn't really understand the depth of Dazai's loss until now. Only after he had seen Kunikida's brace the desk for support in pure relief once Atsushi told him Dazai had texted him. Only after he was made to face the gaping hole that was left in his life when Dazai stepped out of it.

"I miss having him around, but I get why he's been absent." Atsushi took a deep breath and bowed his head. "Could you take care of him for now? Thank you, Oda-san."

Atsushi squared his shoulders and recomposed himself, pushing away the tears he hadn't noticed had sprang to his eyes.

"Sorry to disturb your rest again," Atsushi said as he waved. "I'll be back, if that's okay."

The text came not much later after he left. Atsushi was chewing on his dinner when his phone pinged with a new notification. 

How many bottles of warm soda do you think I could possibly drink?

He stared at the message in hesitation. Kyouka met his eyes from across the table, her head tilted. Atsushi shook his head to reassure her and typed back a quick response.

The other bottle is for Oda-san.

His phone went quiet after that. Although Atsushi kept the device glued to his hands, no new messages appeared. 

Instead, he heard his ringtone in the middle of his sleep. Too tired to open his eyes, Atsushi accepted the call and pressed the phone to his ear. Not a single word was spoken, but he heard the wind and knew exactly who it was. Atsushi fell back into unconsciousness to the sound of static and ocean waves.

In the morning, he woke up to a single message:

Bring snacks instead.

  *

 With the Agency depending on him to keep in contact with Dazai, it was easy for Atsushi to make a habit out of visiting the graveyard once a day. If he stepped out in the middle of work, no one questioned it—though it didn’t stop the Agency members, especially the seniors, from anxiously watching him depart. Atsushi was grateful for the routine of looking for something for Dazai (and Oda), as the thoughts of what was safe to leave in the open pushed away the lingering anxiety as the days passed by without a sign of Dazai’s return.

Today, however, instead of stopping by the store, Atsushi made a trip to his dorm room instead. After retrieving what he needed, he made the walk to the graveyard, its path now so familiar that Atsushi didn’t need to think where he was going.

Once he made it to his destination, Atsushi lowered himself onto a crouch, careful not to sprain his ankle. As he became stable in his new position, he looked over to the gravestone. There were no signs of food anywhere. Atsushi was relieved that at least Dazai was being careful not to leave a mess behind.

"I bet Dazai-san has been eating everything I bring to you," he accused lightly. "Even though it's supposed to be an offering. He's gonna end up getting cursed at this rate."

Then again, from the little Atsushi knew of Oda, he didn't sound like the person to come back as a vengeful spirit. Much less over something like Dazai eating his offerings.

"Maybe you're too nice to do that, Oda-san…"

"You should call him Odasaku."

Atsushi had to brace himself with a hand on the ground as he whipped his head too fast and almost lost his balance. He looked at Dazai, a mixture of surprise and relief making his heart pound. In his bewilderment, he forgot to voice a response. Dazai tilted his head, taking his silence as confusion.

"That's what his friends called him," Dazai explained.

"Oh, I— Alright." Although he had been visiting Oda...saku's gravestone on the regular, being called a friend suddenly tied his throat in knots. At a loss, Atsushi added, "Thank you."

The oddness of the situation wasn't lost on Dazai. He chuckled, eyes trained on Atsushi.

"You're thanking me?" He teased.

Despite his words and his smile, the amusement was distant; like Dazai wasn't quite there to feel that emotion. Not only that, but as soon as he stopped talking, his face fell. His eyelids were lowered into slits, and Dazai took a long moment to speak up again.

"What do you have there?" He said and pointed at Atsushi's lap.

Atsushi looked down, reminded of the coat he had brought with him this time around. It was a hand-me-down from Tanizaki, though practically brand new. Atsushi ran a hand on the black fabric before offering it to Dazai.

"It's a thicker jacket," Atsushi explained. "It's been getting colder lately, so you might catch a cold."

Dazai stared at the jacket for a second too long. A sardonic smirk appeared on his face, though he was quick to school his expression back into neutrality.

"Give it here," Dazai murmured as he took the jacket and draped it over his shoulders. He didn't bother pulling his arms through the sleeves, and the jacket billowed behind him like a cape. Dazai smiled, secretive and impossible to decipher. "Does it suit me?"

Atsushi couldn't help but feel like he was missing some crucial context. The appearance of the jacket mattered very little to him, as far as he knew that it was warm and safely wrapped around Dazai.

"I don't know, it's just a jacket," he said slowly. "I guess so?"

Dazai held the jacket closed with a hand and nodded absentmindedly. "I see."

His shoulders were tensed up, Atsushi noticed; the lingering discomfort wasn't just his imagination. It reminded Atsushi that it wasn’t Dazai’s intention to meet him here. He never got permission to come—even if Dazai's texts had deluded him to believe he received an invitation. For all Atsushi knew, Dazai could be deliberately avoiding crossing paths with him.

"Do you want me to go?" Atsushi wrung the words out of his throat.

"No," Dazai replied without missing a beat. Ever so slightly, Dazai shifted so they were closer to each other. His leg bumped against Atsushi’s shoulder. "Just give me a moment."

It was clear that the proximity was meant to comfort himself, but Atsushi felt something uncoil from below his diaphragm. He breathed out, lungs no longer constricted, but gaze never straying away from Dazai’s face.

Although it hurt him to see the vacant stare Dazai had, Atsushi couldn’t find the words to reassure him. Perhaps it was for the best to let Dazai have his silence, even if only for a moment. Atsushi rested his head against his forearms, and in the process pressed himself to Dazai.

The touch was unintentional, but it snapped Dazai out of his daze. His eyes strayed from the gravestone to Atsushi. In the shadow, his irises turned into all-consuming black holes.

"When we get out of here, could you help me with my bandages?" Dazai asked, his voice flat but heavy. From below, Atsushi could see clearly when Dazai’s nails dug painfully into the flesh of his palm. "I'd rather not look at my arms."

"Dazai-san," Atsushi called.

Dazai shifted a little to look at him. His eyes widened a little when he saw Atsushi hold up a hand to him.

"Whatever you need, I'll do it," Atsushi promised.

Dazai blinked, but he was quick to recover. He laughed, and though the stretch of his lips was a little painful, it was genuine. His touch was a little cold when their hands met, but Atsushi felt his pulse briefly when he squeezed a bit too hard in an attempt to warm up his palm.

Dazai was right here, beautiful and fragile in the way his fingers trembled in Atsushi's grasp.

"Thank you for looking out for me," Dazai whispered.

Ah, I guess that job is mine after all. Atsushi smiled to himself. I’ll do my best, Odasaku-san.

#dazai osamu #nakajima atsushi #dazatsu #dazushi #bsd #my writing

[theredconversegirl]

Hi queen!! Where do you get all these fic recs , I am very new to the fandom. What are some good starter FICS 🍱🍱🍱

Hi nonny 😍

Thank you for stopping by! 💕 Welcome to the SS fandom! 🍅🌸🤗

I was expecting to receive this question here at some point. 😂 Well, I usually go through my FF.net’s favorites list + ao3 bookmarks first. I also have two or three notes on my phone with links and recs that I found or that were recommended to me but I still need to read. When I can’t find anything there or there aren’t many fics, I research/google it (using keywords and/or logical terms sometimes to improve the results). 

However, before doing this (recommending fics and lists here), I used to read SasuSaku fics all the time - seriously I was reading before work, during lunch, as I commuted to and from work, at home, before falling asleep, etc. - and when I liked one fic I had this process: check all fics by this author > then check this author’s favorites list > read fics that caught my attention and repeat. 😅

Well, SasuSaku has so much content and there’s so much diversity that it’s difficult to point one place to start. It really depends of what Era (genin, shippuden, blank period) you enjoy most and if you prefer canon-compliant stories or AUs.

I’ll recommend the path I took when I started reading SasuSaku - I’m not saying it’s the only way or anything, because I believe every reader has their own way to enjoy fics here - and I hope that helps you get started. 

In no particular order, here you go:

TRCG’s SS Starter Pack 🍅🌸

The Legacy of Fire series By: KuriQuinn

Konoha is like a large family unit and every Konoha shinobi loves, believes, cherishes and fights to protect the village, as previous generations did before them and as future generations will continue to do. A series of stories and adventures about the Konoha Eleven and their loved ones, from past to present, that went unseen. Canon-compliant (as much as it is possible to be). [Rating varies]

There are 30 works in this series. I recommended the ao3 link (you can also find all these fics on FF.net) because the interface is more organized; it’s easier to understand and follow the series’ order. This is a massive read but so worth! The writing is amazing and you feel transported to the story as you read every scene. KuriQuinn’s works are widely known and recommended among readers. I hope you enjoy this series and other works by this author as well. 🙂

I also highly recommend: Penthesilea and Unplanned.

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Heartbeat By: letmeannoyyoutoday

From the beginning of their relationship, Sakura never failed to thank Sasuke for every little gesture that he made. It took a while for him to realize that the reason she did it was because, the moment she accepted to be his wife and give him all that she had left to give, she honestly never expected to receive anything in return. Canon-divergent. [Rated M, incomplete with a good ending though]

letmeannoyyoutoday is one of my favorite authors. I love all the stories they posted, and I wished they were still around. I think Heartbeat is a great fic to start and I highly recommend you to check the other stories here. The writing really makes you feel what’s happening, you know? All that angst and suppressed feelings from the pre-canon era.🤧 These are my favorites from this author beside Heartbeat:  Don't You Wanna Stay, Incomplete ,  Miss Independent.

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

ohwhatsherface aka @sun-summoning​

Ok, I think it’s impossible to recommend only a couple fics from this author. On FF.net, you’ll find 93 SasuSaku fics in her profile. You can find the filtered list here. On Tumblr, you can find more fics in this Masterlist, but the most recent ones are not there (you’d need to go scroll through the blog’s posts for more). 

If you’re looking for slice-of-life, fluff, with a writing that is addicting and flows as smooth as the wind, you need to check any fic by this author. really, do it!

My absolute favorites from sun-summoning are: Ever After,  officer uchiha au [prequel, part i, part ii, part iii, part iv, part v, part vi] ,  tinder fic, the shiro fic, and all the time travel fics/prompts.

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

the blanket / @blanket-fictions​

This author wrote 62 fics here and a few more on tumblr. There are many funny/crack stories in that list and I have a lot of fun re-reading those. The way they write humor, with this nice flow that makes you want to read more and more, is amazing. If you enjoy this genre, I recommend digging through their fics. They also write good angsty/drama stories. My favorites are: he said,  persuasion,  say anything,  kill something beautiful.

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

DeepPoeticGirl aka @xxlovendreamsxx​

You’ll find a little bit of everything in this author’s work. All eras, a few AUs, a lot of smut and tension, plus the feels, of course! 

I recommend all DeepPoeticGirl’s work. I’m sure you’ll enjoy the many one-shots/prompts and multi-chaptered fics. I love the way she writes those tension/emotional scenes, showing how the characters feel - it’s like I can feel it too. The writing is so lovely... it’s hard to choose what my favorites are because I love everything lol. So I’ll recommend a few options. 

If you like short one-shots and read different stories, then start here: I'd Be Yours, If You'd Be Mine (drabbles collection). If you like blank period and want to read a multi-chap fic about their journey together, read: home is where the heart is. If you want to read some smut one-shots, read: We Did It

A few of my favorites: Perfect Porcelain, of love and lust, and shattered control, yours, forevermore,  we're gasoline on fire.

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

soulaire / @soulairee​

Ok, more than a couple of Shannon’s stories made me cry in the past haha. She writes beautiful scenes that make us feel everything. Check her profile, you’ll find many great stories there. The ones I love to bits are: Shinka, For When the Fire Burns Bright, and Rise.

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

SouthSideStory / @southsidestory​

I said this before here and I’m going to repeat, this author is the Queen of Arranged Marriage Fics. I love all of her AM AUs. Her captivating writing style and the realistic perspective she brings to the stories will grip your attention all through the stories. My favorites are: The Colors of Midnight,  Second Son,  Blood for Blood. 

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

I feel like this is becoming super long, so I’m going to speed up and just recommend you a few more authors that I read a lot during the first couple months when I found SasuSaku fanfiction: 

Lady Otori > read Heat and check other works.

ChronicallyChill (pain-somnia) > check The Planning Of A Matriarch and other works/AUs.

JinnySkeans > read Meet the Parents,  Once More, With Feeling, check other works and AUs.

anthropologicalhands > read  sleeping arrangements and check other works.

stannide > read interim and check other works.

Sparkly Faerie > read Hatsukoi and (we bloom during) Hanami , check more works.

theeflowerchild > read skinny love and check other works and AUs.

This is how I started back in 2018 (even though I ship SasuSaku since 2004, I didn’t know fanfiction or English until much later). 😢 There are many other talented authors out there and even some hidden gems where you least expect. It’s hard to list everything or everyone here, so I started with the ones I read first back then.😊 

I know that starting in a new fandom can be overwhelming, especially one as big as SasuSaku, so I hope that this post can help you get more acquainted with  🍅🌸 fanfics and content creators. 😁 From there, you can always go back to my MASTERPOST for more fics and lists. 💕

Enjoy and Stay Safe,

xoxo

#theredconversegirl answers things #SasuSaku #getting started with ss #my personal path to ss fanfiction #ss authors #ss fics #Anonymous #theredconversegirl recommends

[no-stabbing-wednesdays]

The Conspiracy Job

I made a post about the “Eliot’s semi-famous identities” conspiracy here and @what---i-dated-a wanted a fic, which got my muse going. So, here it is, and also on AO3

An amazing version of the same concept by @copperbadge was linked in the notes and I recommend you all read that too! The Job Interview Job

The Conspiracy Job

“Oh, not again!”

The others, busy drawing up plans for their latest con, looked over at Hardison. 

“What is it?” Sophie asked.

He brought his display up on the large screen at the front of the room. 

“Someone’s just searched a bunch of Eliot’s old aliases, all at the same time.”

Parker frowned as she looked at the screen. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Eliot was on his feet immediately, concern clear on his face.

“Who is it? CIA? FBI? KGB? Mossad?”

“Give me a second,” Hardison said. “No, I don’t think so. They’re not being flagged on any databases. Someone’s just googling them.”

Eliot relaxed slightly and rolled his eyes. “It’s not those damn conspiracy forums, is it? I thought you got rid of those.”

“I did! They haven’t posted anything, they’re just looking. Oh, they’re here in Portland.”

Eliot tensed again at that, but Hardison shook his head.

“Relax, man. It’s a family house; a couple of dentists and a fifteen year old. If they post anything I’ll take it down, nothing to worry about.”

On the other side of Portland, Julia stepped into her friend Marcie’s bedroom and her eyes widened as she took in the scene before her. Marcie was connecting red threads between grainy, printed-out images on her corkboard and empty bottles of Gatorade littered the desk.

“You have to cool it with this, dude.”

Marcie turned to face her, her hair a mess and her eyes red from lack of sleep, and Julia sighed.

“You look like freaking Charlie Kelly!”

“There’s something here, Jules. I’m sure of it.”

“It’s a couple of athletes and a singer who happen to look similar. It’s hardly the scoop of the century.”

“Look similar? Look similar? Julia, they are completely identical! There are exactly three possibilities.” She held up three fingers in her friend’s face as she counted them off. “Triplets, clones or one ridiculously talented guy.”

“Okaaay, and which one do you think it is?”

“I don’t know,” Marcie answered, turning back to her board. “Triplets? Why would they have different names and hide it? One guy? He’d have to be able to sing and play guitar, baseball and hockey. Why wouldn’t you own up to having that kind of talent? Why go to different places with different names? Clones? I’m leaning clones.”

“Clones? Come on, Marcie.” 

“It’s the most logical explanation.”

“You think someone cloned a human being just to create a one-hit-wonder country singer and some short lived athletes?”

Marcie shrugged. “It could be a trial run or an experiment or something. And you remember that anything I ever said on the forums would mysteriously vanish? I went to look after Jacques Labert turned up and every single forum post was gone! Every one! Doesn’t that sound like a government conspiracy to you?”

“It’s weird,” Julia admitted. “But I think you might be taking this a little too far. If the government were making clones, why would they let them get famous so people could discover it?”

“But they weren’t that famous. Think about it, what were the chances that someone would connect them? There were only ever a couple of us posting on the forums. If I hadn’t happened to be visiting my uncle in Palmerston when Roy Chappell was playing and then gone to Saddle and Spurs for my birthday, I’d never have known.” 

Her eyes widened as a horrifying thought occurred to her . “Then Jacques Labert turned up in my city! What if I’m the connection?”

She swung back to the board and began to write her own name. Julia grabbed her hand.

“Marcie! You’re not the center of a government conspiracy! Besides, who’s this fourth guy again?” She asked, tapping one of the photos in the corner. “You didn’t have anything to do with him, did you?”

“No,” Marcie conceded. “And I told you about him, remember? He’s an animal rights activist who was on the news in San Lorenzo a couple of years ago, talking about dog fights in the Presidential Palace. And he’s Canadian. That’s why it’s so exciting that, after almost two years of nothing new, Jacques Labert, Canadian hockey player, suddenly appears. Was the guy on the news Jacques Labert? If there really is more than one of them in the first place!”

Julia grimaced, increasingly worried about Marcie’s obsession with this wild conspiracy. “He was on the news where?”

“San Lorenzo. It’s this tiny European country. Here look.” Marcie sat at her desk, tapped the name into Google and turned her laptop towards Julia. 

Julia scrolled through a few pictures of the idyllic Mediterranean island, then stopped suddenly and pointed at one of them. 

“Wait, who’s that?”

“Oh, that’s Rebecca Ibañez. It’s a tragic story,” Marcie explained, as she clicked on the link and showed her some clearer pictures. “A couple of years ago, the same time maybe-Jacques Labert was there, there was an election and her fiancé won. But, just as the results were announced, supporters of the former president tried to assassinate him and Rebecca stepped in front and took the bullet for him.”

“She was assassinated?”

“Yes, isn’t it awful?”

Julia shook her head. “She can’t have been.”

“What?”

“She’s my brother Zachary’s acting teacher.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I went to see his play last week and I met her. Her name’s Sophie Devereaux and she’s definitely not dead.”

Marcie looked at her in amazement, a grin breaking out across her face . “And she was in San Lorenzo at the same time as Jacques-Roy-Kenneth! There might be even more to this than I thought!”

Julia, almost as invested as Marcie now that her brother’s odd director was mixed up in this, pulled up a chair and looked on excitedly as her friend brought up another google search. 

Back at the Brewpub, the crew were working out the kinks in their plan while waiting for any sign of the internet sleuth trying to share their ideas about Eliot’s multiple identities.

When the computer pinged again, they all turned to see which of his aliases had been flagged this time, only for their eyes to widen in horror as the search term flashed on the screen.

“Rebecca Ibañez” “Sophie Devereaux”

Sophie gave a gasp that almost turned into a choke. “Wha- wha- what?”

Eliot turned to Hardison, furious. “Oh sure, just dentists and a teenager! Fix. This.”

“I’m trying!” Hardison said. “I can’t find any connections to anything. They look clean.”

“Then look harder!”

Wait, I have something. It’s the kid’s computer.”

“Who’s the kid?” Nate asked.

Hardison pulled up a Facebook page. “Marcie Taylor. She’s a sophomore. She used to post on those stupid Eliot forums that I had to take down every week after Memphis. It was pretty harmless, but I’ve no idea why she’s suddenly looking at Sophie’s aliases.”

He scrolled down the page looking for any kind of hint, when Sophie called out to him to stop.

“Who’s that with her? She looks familiar.”

A few more clicks and Hardison had a name.

“Julia Gutmann. She’s in the same class.”

Gutmann?” Sophie groaned. “I know why she’s familiar. That’s Zachary’s little sister.”

“Zachary? Your acting student Zachary?” Nate asked disbelievingly.

“Yes, she came to our play last week.”

Nate shook his head. “I told you to use an alias at that theater.”

“But I wanted to do this as me,” Sophie protested.

Eliot turned back to Hardison. “So, let me get this straight. The aliases and digital trail that you set up to be uncrackable by international governmental organizations are about to be blown apart by a couple of high schoolers?”

Hardison glowered at him. “They’re only looking at old aliases and they were all burnt when we had to leave Boston anyway. It’s not that bad.”

“Sophie’s still using Sophie,” Eliot argued, nearly yelling now. “And I was only just Jacques Labert and in this city. Now they’ve tied me and her together. How did they even do that? That’s way more than some fifteen year old girls should be able to accomplish on Google.”

“Okay, okay. Don’t panic. They were looking at photos of San Lorenzo. That’s how they found a picture of Sophie."

Sophie glared at him.

"Hey!" he protested. "You're the one who jumped in front of the cameras! I can't control the entire internet you know, and I think the people of San Lorenzo would have noticed if every image of their martyred heroine suddenly vanished.

“It’s just bad luck that Julia had met you. But why were they looking at…” Hardison groaned. “They found that video of Eliot and the puppy somehow.”

“Why didn’t you take that down?” Eliot snapped.

“It’s a thirty second feature on the news from two years ago in a country smaller than Iceland! It wasn’t my top priority!”

“Dammit, Hardison!”

“So, our cover’s going to get blown by kids?” Parker asked, incredulously. 

“No,” Nate insisted. “Well, maybe. But we can manage this. Hardison, don't let them post anything. Sophie, call Zachary. Let’s go steal ourselves some silence.”

#leverage #eliot spencer #the eliot conspiracy #alec hardison #parker #sophie devereaux #nate ford #leverage fic #my fic #this is basically crackfic #purely dumb but hopefully entertaining

[cellard0ors]

Fic: Movement (4/5)

Still working on this for @peachworthy. Should wrap up sometime this week or next and then the full thing'll get posted to AO3. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 here for now!

They decide to do it on a Saturday night.

Link has the weekend off from work and no classes. Rhett’s schedule is also free. They discuss the matter in terse terms, both seeming nervous about the idea, but neither backing down.

As such, Saturday rolls around with little fanfare until late into the evening. An evening that finds Link sitting on the couch, one of his legs jiggling and bouncing about as he waits for Rhett.

Rhett comes out to the living room holding a pillow and he offers it to Link. Link looks at it with some confusion and his friend clears his throat, eyes darting away, “For your lap.”

“My-?” Link looks down and then to Rhett and then…oh. Link colors, realizing that the pillow is to be used in order to cover any potentially ‘arising’ situation on his part. Feel exposed yet stubborn, he remarks dryly, “Don’t think I’ll need that.”

Rhett lets out a loud laugh and pats him in the chest with it, “Trust me. If I’ve done my job right? You will.”

“…point taken,” Link says softly and he takes the pillow, settling it over his crotch. To be fair, he probably will pop wood. After all, he sometimes pops it when Rhett’s full clothed.

Nude?

Yeah.

Link presses down on the pillow harder, even the errant thought of a nude Rhett causing a stirring. Rhett walks to the television and fiddles with the remote.

An app that Link’s noticed before, but never bothered with, is clicked on. Erotes Plus. The screenshots for the videos that come up are…certainly something. Link looks away, almost overwhelmed by all the bare flesh before him. The titles of the videos are also a bit much. Rhett notices and Link can hear the smirk in his voice as he says, “Prude.”

Link scowls and glares back at him and the screen. He is nota prude. However, titles such as ‘Lonely Housewife Squirts for The First Time’ and ‘He Rides His Daddy Dry’ would take anybody aback. At least Link would like to think so – he supposes some people are more immune than others. After all, his own history with porn is on the small side.

During puberty he’d taken his healthy peeks at nude magazines and a few of his friends had snuck out adult VHS tapes to check out, but for the most part it hadn’t interested him. Granted, this was probably due to his eventual discovery that – while he appreciated the female form – it didn’t draw his interest quite like the male one did.

And finding gay porn? Where he grew up? Yeah, pretty much a completely impossibility. And then – when he’d finally managed to snag some – it had, once more, disappointed. It all just seemed so cold and callous. Like a business transaction with a boatload of grunting. Not at all to his tastes.

Rhett, scrolling through the videos, finally finds one titled simply ‘Movement’ and turns to Link with an apprehensive glance, “Still plenty of time to say ‘no’.”

Link’s throat is dry. Unlike some of the other screenshots, this one is vaguer. It’s two forms silhouetted in shadow. One of those forms is Rhett. Link feels numb as he speaks, “I’m good.”

Rhett clicks the video and it begins.

He moves over and sits near Link, lounging against the other side of the couch in an oh-so-casual way. As if an adult video starring him hasn’t just begun to play.

The film opens with a lithe redhead in a yoga outfit doing various poses. While this is being shown the title card appears followed by the starring and since Link highly doubts Rhett goes by ‘Jenessa Star’, he can’t help but chuckle at, “‘Donatello Velvet’?”

“What?” Rhett asks simply and Link gestures to the television, “That’s you, isn’t it?”

“Problem?”

“That’s the screen name you chose?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it, I just don’t see you as a ‘Donatello’,” Link grins at him and Rhett laughs, rubbing one finger along his top lip thoughtfully, “What would you’d’ve gone with then?”

“If I was doing adult film?” Link asks and at Rhett’s nod, he crosses his arms and thinks, “I don’t know…Bevin, maybe?”

Rhett tosses his head back and laughs and Link feels a fissure of delight at that sound, just as he always does. He turns back and the redhead’s poses have become…much more complex. Almost painful looking as she contorts herself to degrees Link wouldn’t think possible and then she rises, stretching out and that’s when Rhett enters.

Or maybe it would be better to think of it as Donatello enters. Yes, it’s a little easier that way and Link does his best to cling to that, to try and stay nonchalant as he offers dryly, “Well, well – there’s a familiar lookin’ fella.”

Rhett just hums and they both watch as he walks up to the woman. He runs his hands along her shoulders and down her arms, whispering into her neck huskily, “Good form.”

Link can’t help but let out a snort. Rhett rolls his eyes, “Okay, okay – I know, I know. Dialogue’s a bit-?”

“Bad?”

“…it could use some improvement.”

“Uh huh,” Link just beams and hey, this isn’t so bad. Cheesy and kind of silly and maybe it will just stay like this. Light and fun. For all Link knows, they won’t even watch the whole thing. Maybe just some of it and then they can turn on something els-!

Rhett begins kissing Jenessa’s neck, white teeth visibly dragging along her skin and Link’s whole body tightens. A phantom sting starts along the same side of his neck that Rhett’s touching on Jenessa. Jenessa’s whole throat arches back, a pleasured moan leaving her and Rhett’s tongue is…very pink.

Link’s Adam’s apple bobs as he says (much huskier than he’d like) “N-Nice camera work…”

Rhett just hums, “Mac’s always had a good eye.”

“Mac?”

“Mackenzie, the director of this one.”

Link just lets out a sound of acknowledgement as he watches Rhett reach around Jenessa and tug at her tank top. Tug until her small, pointed breasts pop free. He cups them in his hands and he has…great hands.

They looks so tan against her skin, palms rough and big, and Jenessa lets out a full throttle moan. Rhett teases the pink tips, fingertips agile as they play along the sensitive flesh, as they circle around her areolas.

She whimpers and turns, kisses him fully, passionately, and it’s…messy. Wet. Link can feel his whole heart thump hard at the sight. Janessa’s hair is shorter than Rhett’s – cropped close to her scalp and Rhett’s hands have abandoned her chest to run through the short strands.

Link barely stops himself from reaching up and touching his own hair, instinctively wanting to mimic how that might feel. To imagine Rhett doing it to him.

He tries not to fidget and talking, talking will help, “Surprised this isn’t more, ah, instant.”

Rhett shrugs, “Foreplay’s a thing, man.”

“No, I know,” Link knows his voice pitches a little high at this, defensive, “Just…figured, mean...’s porn…”

“Some of the earlier videos on here are like that, but when EP got bought out, the new owners took the company in a different direction.”

“EP?”

“Erotes Plus. The platform these films are on,” Rhett explains and then he starts mentioning a few things about different production companies and distributors and the like, but Link is too distracted because Jenessa is now fully naked and Rhett is on his knees between her legs, feasting on her moist lower lips.

The silken tip of his tongue is parting her, dancing along the bundle of nerves that is her clit and her head is tossed back on a loud, wild whine.

Her pale body undulates and she’s gripping his long hair so hard. Link feels as if he’s having an out of body experience. This is his roommate. His friend. The man he’s secretly in love with.

And he’s pleasuring this woman with such…focus. With intensity and finesse and when he rises, his erection is clear, straining at the linen pants that are containing it. Link points to the screen weakly, “Hippie clothes.”

The comment is stupid and unhelpful, but Rhett just laughs, “Yeah – kinda the theme of this series. I’m like, a Yoga Instructor or something? Least that's the way it was explained to me, so – linen pants, cotton top – I mean, we’ve had better costumes, but for this shoot-!”

Rhett is talking some more but, again, Link is barely listening. His eyes are transfixed by what’s taking place on the screen. Janessa easily strips off Rhett’s shirt and then his pants and – No. Underwear.

Link is seeing Rhett’s dick. It’s there…thick, but not as big as his own, a visible vein running along one side. Dusky dark and with a blushing pink tip and gently curling hair hiding his full, taunt sack…

“Link? Buddy? You doin’ alright?”

“Fine.”

“Lookin’ like you seen a ghost," Rhett teases, but there’s a breathless quality to his words, “My body all that bad?”

Link just shakes his head and watches as Jenessa strokes Rhett, as his head falls back and he lets out a shuddering gasp that Link feels in his very bones.

Link is suddenly very, very thankful for the pillow that bobs some as it reacts to the situation taking place beneath it. That situation being Link’s own dick perking upwards, making his jeans tight and constrictive.

“You…?” Something Rhett said finally seems to click in Link’s head, “You said this is a series?”

“Yup,” Rhett murmurs and now the film shows him pressing Jenessa against one of the studio walls and she raises one leg high. Insanely high. It’s a very gymnastic level move and Rhett slots his cock up with her opening, sliding hard and deep into her body.

Jenessa lets out a wail of pleasure as he presses in and she holds that leg up – all strength and grace as he begins to move within her at a steady rhythm.

Her hips answer some, but it’s more about how…open she is. And how deep he’s getting. They’re eyes are locked as he picks up his pace, rocketing in and out of her, shaking her whole form with his thrusts, her tiny breasts jiggling with each movement and movement, they call this…

“Got an award for this one.”

Thank God. That one comment draws Link back to some semblance of sanity even as his body quickens with an unspeakable longing, a carnal hunger that aches, “Really?”

“Uh huh,” Rhett says with no small amount of pride, “Best Sex Scene.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I mean, I owe it to her to be honest,” he waves to the screen, “She’s the one turning herself into a pretzel throughout this thing. Same for the rest of ‘em. They kept finding co-stars for me to work with who had had extensive training in this sort of body contortion. It was just my job to, uh, well…”

Rhett waves again and the answer is obvious: to fuck them through it. Link is not at all limber. In fact, he’s kind of a klutz. Nothing to match up with someone like this.

For some reason, this realization leaves him hollow. Cold. His arousal dims some, “Where’d you get the award from?”

“XRCO.”

Link makes some sound that would imply he understands, but he doesn’t. Rhett sighs, “Got nominated for Most Popular Male Performer on Pornhub but lost to Johnny Rockwell. Guy deserved it though. Performance he did that year was nuts.”

Link’s lost in the vocal cacophony that is erupting from the television speakers. Moans, gasps, grunts, cries of sheer ecstasy as Rhett and Janessa really ramp it up.

They’re in a different position now, Jenessa’s body once more arched at a crazy angle and Rhett's just...really getting in there. His hips are pumping double time, like a jackhammer, and she is loving it.

Her blue eyes are flashing with adoration, her lips curled in that moue that speaks to an almost pleasurable pain and Link can’t help but ask, “Are the others with her?”

Rhett takes a moment to process the question and when he realizes Link is asking about the other films in the series, he shakes his head, “Nah, man. You don’t usually have repeating partners. Like I said, they found other people who could bend in weird ways. The sequel to this sees me with Julian St. Croix. Great guy. Really smart. He’s actually working on another doctorate. Plans on working in the tech field when he retires, which – money he’s making, should be pretty damned soon. You want me to dial that up?”

Link just shakes his head. The idea of watching Rhett doing something like this with yet another person and with a man no less…

He feels crappy for, well, feeling crappy. This is Rhett’s job. He shouldn’t take this personally.

Besides, it’s not like Rhett knows how Link feels about him. To him, they’re just friends and he should play the part of friend – be a friend, a good friend, “I can see why you won the award, Rhett. You’re doing a…a great job. Real good acting.”

The sound of the shocked (yet oddly sharp) laughter that leaves Rhett at that actually causes Link to finally look at him.

Rhett’s face is a ruddy red, like he’s embarrassed or something, and he’s looking at Link with a bit of a wildfire in his eyes, “‘Good acting? Are you serious?”

Link finally shifts about on the couch (which feels fantastic considering his body has been fighting off a plethora of sensations for a while now) as he fully turns to him, pillow still firmly in place, “Of course! I mean, it-it seems like you’re really into this girl,” he gestures to the screen, “when you’re doing this and I imagine that’d take some acting chops.”

He chews on his bottom lip and lowers his gaze, hands ghosting over the pillow as he talks to it more than Rhett, “Un-unless you really are into her.”

“Into her?” Rhett pokes one finger over to the television, “Into Janessa?”

“Yeah, I mean…if-if you two are a couple or-or were one or-?”

“Me and Janessa?” Rhett asks incredulously and some of the heat seems to leave him. Link gets the impression that Rhett had, for a moment, been mad or affronted by Link’s well intentioned compliment, but now is completely changing track. Now Rhett seems charmingly baffled, “You think I’m into Janessa?”

“I-I was just saying if you’re not into her in this,�� Link waves to the screen where (seeing as the volume is dying down) it would seem the film is reaching its conclusion, “Then the acting is good and if you are-!”

“I’m not,” Rhett confirms firmly, “I am very much not, nor was I ever, into Janessa. We’re friendly, but we’d never work as a couple, man. She likes cats.”

Rhett says the last as if it’s a blasphemy and Link can’t help but giggle, suddenly feeling bright and light even though he knows better than to do so, “Problem?”

“Not a big fan of lil demons…”

“Noted, “Link sighs and he feels much, much better. The film is finally over, he’s seen some of Rhett’s work, and he can now say the following with sheer confidence, “I’m proud of you.”

And with that, Rhett freezes. He freezes solid, back going ram rod straight, and his eyes – they’re as round as dinner plates.

Big and green and looking at Link like’s a wild anomaly and Link worries that maybe he, somehow, inadvertently offended him with the remark so he’s quick to explain, “I-I mean it, bo. I’m proud of you. Going out there and-and doing something like this. Being so…so exposed and vulnerable and for anyone to see and yeah, sure, I mean, I guess it’s just for people to-to beat off to or whatever, but when you think about it, it’s something that brings people pleasure, which is a lot better than bringing something bad into people's lives and I know some would argue that porn is like, some gateway into violent dark tendencies or whatever, but for the average person it’s a good thing to explore and the fact you can so freely provide that to them and not be ashamed-!”

Link is blathering.

He’s a blathering idiot.

But he feels like if he stops talking, Rhett might snap at him. Or be mad. Or-!

But instead Rhett just shakes his head and whispers, “You’re unbelievable.”

Link’s diatribe cuts off. His blood stops in his veins. He feels completely seized.

“I’ve been trying so hard…fighting with everything in me,” Rhett breathes and he just…eases forward, eases closer. He’s in Link’s personal space and Link wonders if he should back up or something.

He can feel the heat coming off Rhett’s skin. His breath is bathing Link’s face as he rasps, “But I can’t anymore. You’ll have to forgive me, but…”

Rhett kisses him.

Rhett. Kisses. Him.

Rhett kisses Link.

Their lips meet in the smallest, quickest, sweetest little peck. The sound of it, the quick wet click of their lips…it’s earth shattering, sound-barrier breaking.

And Link feels his whole nervous system lurch at it. And Rhett is still looking at him, searching his eyes wildly. Link blinks and licks his lips and tries to speak, but there’s nothing to say.

Rhett just grins softly, “Bad for business…that’s what you are…”

Link’s gaze dips to Rhett’s mouth. To his lips. Lips that were on his seconds ago. His eyes feel heavy lidded as he gulps and Rhett just huffs as he kisses him again. Again.

Another kiss and this one is more than just a peck. This one? This one is the one Link’s been dreaming of, the one he’s been wishing for.

This kiss is perfect.

#rhink #randl #my writing #peachworthy

[bluebellhairpin]

( Notice: OKAY - The pic there says ‘The Hobbit/LOTR’ but for times sake, and my own sanity, there is none listed thus-far (same goes for the ‘other’ category’). Merci for understanding! )

So I’ve been meaning to do this for a while, and I already have a blog for it ( @nemosrepost ) but that doesn’t get too much attention. Thus, here we are! 

(This was a nightmare to get done - it took weeks to get all the links and pics done up in my spare time - I hope you appreciate that.) 

They’re all sorts here, from Medieval Marvel AU’S, to Modern Attack on Titan one shots. They’re all organised via fandom, and I’ve tried my best to link and tag everything properly, but that is a difficult feat, so beware - for some it may not have worked too well.

Like my *actual* masterlist, this will be updated regularly with new fic recs, and even new characters and fandoms as I read them. All fic’s currently listed (as of November 26, 2020) are found on my reblog account. 

I’ve also tried to add in a ‘recommendation summary’ thing of each - so basically just my thoughts on the fic(s). But anyway, have fun browsing, and overall - enjoy! 

(AND also - LMAOOOO - Have fun scrolling lololololol!) - Nemo

( Pre - Warning: I am not tagging anything as NSWF, 18+, or triggering content. However some fics listed do contain such material. Please refer to the warnings or Authors Notes on each Fic before reading. Stay safe guys! I love you! ) 

Bluebellhairpin’s Masterlist 

Bucky Barnes

Knight in Rusty Armour - Medieval / A/B/O AU! Series - by @revengingbarnes Honestly I binged the first eight chapters (+ prologue) in close to one sitting. That was mostly because that was all that was published at the time. It is completed now. I love both these AU’s, and I love Bucky - win, win! 

Flowers Bloom - Soulmate AU! Series - by revengingbarnes  Another great series, and honestly I’m a slut for soulmate au’s, so this author might be coming after my heart - keep up that good work, if you know what I mean. 

The Great Build Up - Modern / Firefighter Au! One Shot - by @thottybarnes  This ones goes from cute, to hot and steamy, to angsty, and back to cute again. A one shot rollercoaster, and I thoroughly enjoyed every word of it. 

Maybe This Time - Mob Au! One Shot - by @propertyofpoeandbucky Okay, so if there’s one thing I like more than an mobster au, it’s adding children into the mix. Something about big bad guys going all soft for this tiny human - and then making them - and that’s called perfection. 

Whatever It Takes - Biker AU! One Shot - by @sgtjbuccky He like’s to be loud, so what. He rides a bike, so what. I what to ride him and his bike, so what. 

(Un-Named) - One Shot - by @softlybarnes  I’ve never liked Bucky’s metal arm more in my entire life. Using it for a baby going through teething? A+ idea. 

Hero, Waiting - Medieval AU! One Shot -  by captain-ariel-barnes Sadly, this fic is unavailable now, and that - obviously - makes me sad. But I’m adding it her anyway because of how much I adored it. The love triangle between Bucky, Reader, and Steve was amazing, and the feelings? Phenomenal. 

Steve Rogers

If Walls Could Talk - One Shot - by propertyofpoeandbucky  I’ll recreate my original comment on this fic - ‘Ouch’. And that’s all I have to say about that. 

The End of the War - College AU! One Shot - by @redgillan There’s nothing quite like a enemies to lovers trope that’s well-written. But then throw in fight club, a jerk date, ice-cream and pizza - just read it. You’ll understand then. 

The Edge of the Water - Mermaid AU! Series - @floatingpetals I have to admit now, I haven’t read all of this yet. But I also have to say, what I have read was fantastic. Mermaids - and Mermen - they just hit different, you know? 

Pseudo Princess - Medieval AU! Series - by @shreddedparchment​ To date, it’s one of the best fics - nay - stories I’ve ever read. I’d dare to say it’s easily the length of a novel, so if you’re up for the long haul, I’d definitely recommend it. It’s worth the wait - trust me. Op obviously put a hella lot of work into it, and it shows. 

Loki Laufeyson

Loki’s Happy Ending - Series (?) - by @gingerwritess  Listen, I have been and forever will be a Loki girl. Nothing will change that. And every scrap of content Theo produces for Loki I will cradle in my palms and keep warm until they’re ready to go out into the world or whatever - point is, read this. 

Just One Quick Glance - One Shot - by @imagines-trashcan  After watching ‘Endgame’, and squealing at every moment Loki appeared on screen, only to not have him show up in the final battle - this was one of my comfort fics. 

thunderstorms. - One Shot - by @tarynkauai Naturally, Loki’s child would inherit his unease of thunderstorms. And naturally, seeing Loki as a dad makes me happy. 

Stitches - One Shot - by @lokibug​  Loki being nice. I like that. We stan. 

Quentin Beck 

The Curveball - One Shot - by @healingchurch​  Listen, this is on here for a reason. I didn’t really like Mysterio ‘cause of what he did to Peter, but hey, some people are good actors, and some write characters acting very well. 

Stephen Strange 

(Un-Named) - Imagine / One Shot - by @archieimagines​ A cocky bastard and a shy Reader, as far as I’m concerned that a one-way ticket straight to my heart. *wink wonk*.

(Un-Named) - One Shot - by @whirlybirbs​  Honestly, there are multiple fics of hers on this list, and that’s because she’s a damn fine writer, and her stories are just that addictive. This one is no different. I was preparing to read more and then it ended. But all good things, right?

Crash and Burn - One Shot - by @lilyswritings​  The angst, and the angst. I cry, you cry, everyone cries. Unfortunately there is only the one part, but much to my personal joy that means I can interpret the after-ending however I want! 

Frank Castle

(Un-Named) - One Shot - by @alexsunmners​ This is just cute okay? I have no other words except this was plain and simply very, very, very nice to read, and that it makes me feel very soft right here on the inside. 

Peter Parker

Super Smooth Genius - One Shot (?) - by whirlybirbs  Back at it again with the cute, awkward, friendly, neighbourhood, Peter Parker. 

Just Don’t - Soulmate AU! One Shot - by @papel-creativo​ What’d I tell you about soulmate au’s? I can’t resist them. And of course Pete being a caring bf with his hero s/o. So nice. 

Ronan the Accuser 

Make You Proud - One Shot - by @kayleighhalliday2203​ This is justifiable because I was going through a Lee Pace faze and I found it and loved it immediately. 

Ultron

(Un-Named) - One Shot / Series - by @snarky-badger​ This I can also justify having read, because (and if you know me then you know) the robot thing ... Doesn’t bother me as much as it should. And I binged all of it on ao3, so. 

Poe Dameron

(Un-Named) - Masterlist - by propertyofpoeandbucky Okay, I know there’s a lot on this list, and it could take you a while to get through it all, but trust me - it’s worth it. Lani likes Poe, and it shows. He’s written so well. 

Dashing - One Shot / Series ? - by whirlybirbs Birbs does it again. She’s got Punchy!Reader, and if there were a legal way to get all of this Poe thing down into a written book, I’d do it. 

You Can See Me? - Modern / Ghost AU! One Shot - by @tintinwrites​ I just this this one’s really cool. And what Poe does for the reader at the end? So sweet! He would totally do that! 

Across the Hall - Modern / Nurse AU! Series - by @starryeyedstories​  It’s cute, it’s fun, it’s got tension, and a little drama - plus a smidge of angst and Corgi!BB-8. If perfection were ever made into a Modern/Nurse au Poe fic - this would be it. 

Deepest, Lightest Secrets - One Shot - by @writefightandflightclub​  It’s got the humour and overall feel  you’d expect to come from something Star Wars related - honestly I had so much fun reading it, and I’ll happily do it again. 

Levi Ackerman

Names for Him & You - One Shot - by @commanderserwin​ Again, op is one of my main sources for fic’s in this area - so there could be quite a few of them listed here. But this one? Cute as heck. 

Levi’s Secret - Modern AU! One Shot - by @theamberwriter​ This one was damn funny in my opinion. Nothing can ever be hidden from Hange for long. 

You Look So Beautiful In White - Modern AU! One Shot - by @alrightberries​ This fic, it carved out my heart, diced it, shoved it in a blender, then made it into an atomic bomb. I - I was not okay. That amount of angst shouldn’t be allowed. Read it. 

Abeille - Modern / Mafia AU! Series - by @ackermans-freedom-inc​ Honestly, this isn’t finished yet but, honestly, I’m not ready for it to finish. The heartache. The betrayal. The child. I can’t even. 

Lights - Modern AU! One Shot - by commanderserwin This was the first fic I ever read of op’s, and I couldn’t believe what I read so I went back and read it again. I can’t tell you how much I love it, or how I feel about it, so just go read for yourself and you’ll know. 

To Build a Home - Modern AU! Series - by @vennilavee​ If you’re a fan of Levi, you must go read this. It’s so detailed, and just so perfect - whenever a new part comes out I have a quick reboot before going to read it. 

Erwin Smith

One of Us - Modern AU! Miniseries - by commanderserwin I’m not going to lie, this one is here because I requested it, but also because I really liked it, and cried while reading it. So there. 

Reiner Braun

Service to the Crown - Medieval AU! Miniseries - by @present-mel​ It should probably be illegal to write Reiner or Medieval au’s this well, and yet here op is writing both. Like, McScuse me, where do you acquire such talent and can I have some? 

Toshinori Yagi

Flirting with All Might - One Shot - by @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten​ Toshi. The great. The hero. The awkward. He’s a blond boy doing what blond boys do even if he’s a little older he’s still part of the crew.

Stitches - Villain AU / Mini Series - by @itsallmightbitch​  Okay, so I said above that I wouldn’t put warnings on these - but this time I have to. Nothing I’ve read in my whole life emmits such an amount of pure horniness - and I love it. 

Godless - Fantasy AU / One Shot - by @pleasantanathema​  Another ‘All Smite’ fic, yes, I know. But god. They’re so good. This one is another real horny one, so if you can’t tell there is a slight theme running here. And - sksksksks - this is actually from the same ‘general area’ as the Reiner fic listed above (Service to the Crown). There was a event. I read everything. 

Keigo Takami

Preening - One Shot - by @shoutaaizawas​ Literally the softest and cutest damned thing I’ve read for Keigo. No, I’m not just ‘saying’ that, it’s genuine. The feelings I get - or lack thereof due to them turning to mush - it too much for words. Honest. 

Seasonal Special - One Shot - by @keiqos​ I’ll say this now and I’ll say it first - any Hawks fics written by op are *chefs kiss*. They’re amazing. Secondly, rut!Hawks is my weakness - this fic is one of such weaknesses. 

Shouto Aizawa

(Un-Named) - Series - by @theamberwriter​ This is *technically* the second part in the series, but it’s the only part I’ve read and goddamnit, I’m in love. Hubby Aizawa. The disappearing Baby-Zawa. 

I Miss You Texts - SMAU - Kuroo Tetsurou, Bokuto Koutarou, Nishinoya Yuu - by @briswriting​ I miss them too. They ain’t dead. I just feel like I haven’t seen them in so long.  

Little Things - Headcanons - Karasuno - by @haikyuudreaming​ Every single one makes me feel so nostalgic, and I feel so much longing. I love. I loose. I pine. I want. And yet I cannot have. I only dream.  

Cheerleader - Headcanons - Karasuno - by @imagine-101​  I want to be their cheerleader. Now I am able to be. Op, many thanks for the feeding. 

Tsukishima Kei

Cherry Wine - Single Parent AU! Series - by @bakugou-jpg​  I’m gonna head out and say that Tsukki was my first favourite Haikyuu character - then I ‘character developed’ but that only went so far as to give me more favorites. But deadass - read this and you won't regret it. 

Ukai Keishin

(Un-Named) - Ballroom/Latin Dancer AU! Headcanons - by @imagine-that-haikyuu​  I know nothing about dancing. Or ballroom dancing. But I do know I’d love to dance with Ukai. So how’s that for ‘middle ground’? 

#fic rec #masterlist #marvel x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #quentin beck x reader #stephen strange x reader #frank castle x reader #peter parker x reader #ronan x reader #ultron x reader #poe dameron x reader #levi ackerman x reader #erwin smith x reader #reiner braun x reader #karasuno x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #ukai keishin x reader

[poorcinderelly]

Perfectly Fine

Author: poorcinderelly

Rating: PG13 (language mostly)

Fandom: RPF

Pairing: Tom Holland/Reader

Disclaimer: This work is purely fiction and not-for-profit fan activity. It is not intended to infringe on any rights by and of the companies and/or individuals involved in the production of any series mentioned here.

Word Count: 3,491

Notes: Soooooo....I have never written an RPF fic before and especially not one that involves Tom Holland. I got inspired to write this after listening to Taylor Swift's song, Mr. Perfectly Fine on loop for the past few days. Fair warning, Tom is not really kind here. I mean, he's not the worst, but he's also not the greatest either. Part of me also really wants to do a part two to this, but I guess it will depend on how it's received and honestly, if I feel like it, lol.

Here's the AO3 link, too.

Enjoy!

It takes everything in me just to get up each day But it's wonderful to see that you're okay

You rolled over in bed and picked up your phone. It was almost 11:00am. You knew you had to get out of bed. Brush your teeth. Comb your hair. Eat something.

But your energy was gone. Everything felt so heavy.

The last communication was over a text message. Tom had asked when you were going to come by to get the rest of your things from his apartment. At first, you told him you weren't sure yet. He responded asking if he should just have them mailed to Jessica's, your best friend's place. You had been staying with her since the break-up.

You eventually told him that you would come to get them. But that was two weeks ago.

You opened your messages, a small part of you hoping to get a new one from him. But there was nothing.

You opened Twitter, mindlessly scrolling through, not really reading anything that was on your feed.

'Cause I hear he's got his arm 'round a brand-new girl I've been pickin' up my heart, he's been pickin' up her And I never got past what you put me through But it's wonderful to see that it never phased you

That was when you saw it. A video of Tom, with his new girlfriend. They were caught by paparazzi coming out of a restaurant. You watched as they held hands, making their way down the sidewalk. Tom was chatting them up as usual; it was something he did to try to make what's a typically stressful situation go as smooth as possible. It was something he did when he was out with you.

A lump swelled in your throat and you tried your best to blink back tears.

He seemed totally fine. It's like he has completely moved on, even though it had only been two weeks. You started seeing photos of him and her together shortly after you broke up. You thought it was odd that he had moved on so quickly, but you also suspected that he may have been talking to her for a while, even while you two were still together.

How wonderful.

That thought made the dam broke and you started to cry again. It felt like you had been crying non-stop since things ended. You were so tired of it. Jessica, being the best friend that she was, told you it was okay to cry and that it was okay to feel. "You've been through a shock," she said. "What Tom did caught you by surprise."

She was right of course, but it still hurt.

You closed Twitter and went back to your messages. You opened the thread you had with Tom and wrote the following:

I'll come pick my stuff up today.

You closed the app and rolled over, facing the window. The sun was out and you could see the leaves from the trees rustling in the breeze. It was a beautiful spring day.

Then you heard your phone ping. You reached over to the other side of the bed and picked it up.

Tom replied.

You took a breath and opened the message.

Okay. Just text when you're on the way.

You saw through that immediately. It was so obvious that he was trying to make sure she wouldn't be there when you came. "How considerate of you."

You didn't even bother to text him back.

You set your phone down on the table and even though it felt like it took all of your strength, you rolled out of bed.

"Time to get moving."

- * -* -* - * -* -* -* - * -* -* -* - * -* -* -* - * -

Mr. "Perfect face" Mr. "Here to stay" Mr. "Looked me in the eye and told me you would never go away" Everything was right Mr. "I've been waiting for you all my life" Mr. "Every single day until the end, I will be by your side"

You and Tom met at a red carpet event for a summer Hollywood blockbuster. He already had two Spider-Man movies under his belt by then, but you were an up-and-coming actress. You were aware of him and he was aware of your work, but you had never met or spoken to one another before. However, when you saw him outside the theater, it was like sparks went off. Despite being surrounded by the press and screaming fans, all you could see was him.

Once you both were inside the venue, he asked if he could find you at the party afterward. You said "yes," trying your best not to show how eager and excited you were. Once the movie was over, you made your way to the after-party. Walking in, you felt like you were in a fairytale; a princess trying to find her prince in the crowd.

Tom found you first; he made his way from the other side of the room and offered you a drink. You never left each other's side that night; you danced, ate, drank, and left to go back to his hotel together.

You hoped that the one-night stand would turn into something more and it did.

One month turned into six, then a year, and another year. Tom was everything you wanted in a person; kind, funny, smart, and attentive. Even though you both had extremely chaotic schedules, you both made it a rule to coordinate a FaceTime every night before you went to sleep, no matter where you were in the world.

It did not take long for the press to catch on about your relationship. Since your career was not as established as Tom's, having everyone in the world find out about you made you incredibly anxious. But Tom was supportive and patient; he was also a private person, which helped. He promised to protect you.

Tom was good for you and you thought you were good for him, too. He made you feel safe and loved. You had been waiting for a relationship like this one for a long, long time.

But that was when I got to know Mr. "Change of heart" Mr. "Leaves me all alone," I fall apart

You couldn't pinpoint when exactly things changed, but it occurred over the span of a few months.

Tom started to snap more during your FaceTimes. He assured you that it was stress from having to film three movies back to back. But you knew something was off; you just couldn't tell what it was. Not long after that, your FaceTimes were getting short. The same thing would happen: Tom would lose his patience, you would get defensive, a fight would happen, and both of you would hang up.

Tom barely answered your FaceTime calls after that fight. He would always say he was busy or tired, but you knew better.

And throughout this time, the anxiety kept building up. Every day, you asked yourself what you did to upset him and if there was a way to fix it. Your communication with Tom was mostly through text messages, and you were starting to notice that when you told him you loved him, he didn't say it back.

The first time you saw him after that was in November. It was the start of the holiday break for the both of you and you wanted to have a few weeks to yourselves before having to travel to see each other's families. You arrived at the apartment you both shared in New York. After you dropped your suitcases in the bedroom, you texted him asking if he was on his way.

Hours went by. He never responded.

You heard the doorknob click around nine-thirty that evening and Tom made his way inside. He tossed his keys on the counter and went into the kitchen, not saying a word. You could tell he was tired; you were tired too. You knew better than to do this, but the anxiety and frustration that had been building up for the past few weeks finally got released.

It resulted in the biggest fight you had. You asked why he didn't respond to your text; he snapped and asked why you were always breathing down his neck. You just wanted to know what was going on; why things have been distant between you both. But Tom just kept deflecting, saying that nothing was wrong. But your anxiety wouldn't let you believe it; something was different and you knew fighting wasn't going to solve the problem. But it just didn't stop; it quickly escalated to more screaming, more crying, and slamming doors.

Tom left the apartment that night; he left you sitting on the living room floor, crying. Right before he slammed the door, he said, "I need to get away from you right now."

Hours went by and you were waiting for him to come home.

He didn't.

You ended up sleeping on the couch.

Mr. "Never told me why" Mr. "Never had to see me cry" Mr. "Insincere apology so he doesn't look like the bad guy"

Tom returned the next day. You heard him come in around the early afternoon. He was wearing the same outfit he wore yesterday. You wanted to know where he was, but you didn't ask, afraid that it would set off another fight.

Your mind wandered to what he said the night before.

"You're always nagging on me."

"Why do you think something always has to be wrong?"

"You're so fucking crazy."

"I need to get away from you."

Tom saw that you were on the couch and came to the obvious conclusion that you slept there and had not moved. He crouched down in front of you and brushed some loose strands of your hair out of your face.

"I'm sorry."

You could not tell if his apology was genuine. It honestly felt like he was only apologizing just to apologize, not because he truly meant it. But you were so tired; you wanted this to be over.

So you accepted it.

Hello Mr. "Casually cruel"

Things did not get better after that. Typical small arguments turned into big ones and minor disagreements turned into personal attacks.

It amazed you how Tom had so many casually cruel comebacks for you in his arsenal. But you were not so innocent either; some of the things you said to him surprised you.

You started to not like who you have become; you were anxious all the time now and truthfully, you really did not like hurting him. You weren't sure if you could say the same about Tom, though.

One night in February, you were sitting out on the balcony, looking over the Manhattan skyline. You were sipping your tea and heard the sliding door to the balcony open. Tom sat in the chair next to you, running his hands through his hair.

"I think..." he sighed, "....I think we need to break up."

You knew it was coming, but you still were not fully prepared. Tears swelled in your eyes and you squeezed the mug like it was your lifeline.

"We just can't keep doing this, babes," said Tom. "I can't keep doing this."

In your head, you begged him to stop. You pleaded that it was not in fact over; that you just needed to talk things through. You could definitely work through this; it was just a rough patch. But you could not say the words - because a part of you knew that he was right.

You could not keep doing it either.

Both of you sat out there for a while, not saying a word. You still squeezed the tea mug, but the tears you were holding back were falling freely now.

It was over.

- * -* -* - * -* -* -* - * -* -* -* - * -* -* -* - * -

You found the energy to shower, blowdry your hair, and get changed into a white t-shirt, jeans, and green jacket. You grabbed your phone, wallet, and keys and tossed them in your handbag.

Jessica was in the kitchen eating a piece of toast. You saw how elated she was when she noticed that you showered and changed clothes. She offered to make you breakfast, but you refused.

"I'll just eat something when I come back."

"Oh!" Her eyes widened. "Where are you going?"

"I, uh...I'm going to Tom's...to get the rest of my things." You picked at the end of one of the drawstrings on your jacket.

"Will she be there?" Jessica asked.

You shook her head. "I don't think so."

Jessica nodded; you noticed that she looked a little relieved. "Well, do you want me to drive you? Just in case you see some paps along the way?"

"Oh. Them," you thought. It did not take long for the media to catch on that you two had broken up. It was partly why you had been hiding out at Jessica's for the past couple of weeks. As much as you wanted her to come with you, you knew this was something you needed to do yourself.

Jessica said she had to work tonight, but promised to come home straight after for a full report, which you laughed at. You said your goodbyes and made your way out of Jessica's building.

You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw that there were not any paps around. You hailed a taxi and gave the driver the address to Tom's apartment. Your old apartment.

You leaned back in the seat and pulled out your phone.

I'm on my way.

You tried not to think too much about it. If you thought about it, you would surely cry. That was the last thing you wanted to do.

The cab pulled up to the front of the building. You paid the fee and got out. You said your hello to Tony, the doorman (who was surprised to see you), and made your way through the lobby, up the elevator, and down the green carpet hall to your old unit. Room 4J

Your hands were shaking a little now, but you tried to brush it off. You turned it into a fist and lightly knocked on the door. It was just starting to hit you that this would be the last time you would set foot in this place, but you interrupted the thought.

"Damn it, you are NOT going to lose it!"

You heard movement from the other side of the door and the jiggle of the doorknob.

There was Tom.

He was wearing a black turtleneck, jeans, and socks. His chestnut hair was curly and he had what looked like a cup of tea in his hand.

"Come in."

He did not smile when he saw you; you were not expecting him to, but it stung a little.

You began to scan the apartment, trying to find anything that belonged to you. Then you heard Tom clear his throat.

"Uh...everything's in the guest bedroom," he said.

You looked at him, confused. Since when did he have a guest bedroom?

"We turned it into a spare bedroom after..." his voice trailed off near the end.

Their now guest room used to be your craft room. It had all of your paints, markers, fabrics, and colorful paper that you used to make gifts for friends, co-workers, and loved ones. Of course, all of that was packed up and in storage now.

You sighed a little and made your way down the hall to the guest room. You opened the door and saw a full bed, a dresser with a small television on it, and a bedside table with a lamp on it. In the space between the bed and the dresser was a single medium-sized cardboard box with your name written on it in big, black letters. The handwriting was Tom's.

You crouched down and opened the box. Inside was your favorite tea mug, a spare cell phone charger, some headphones, a scarf, and a paintbrush set you left behind. At the bottom of the box, was a small, red photo album.

You knew immediately what that was. You bit your lip and swallowed. "I'll open that another time," you thought.

You folded the box back up and tucked it under your arm as you got to your feet. You made your way back to the living area and saw Tom sitting on the couch, with his arms crossed. When he saw you enter the room, he got to his feet.

"Do you need help with that?" he asked.

You shook your head. "No," you answered, shortly, "I got it."

Tom let out a small sigh and followed you to the door. You wanted to get out of there. You could feel the dam was about to break. Just as your hand was about to twist the doorknob, you heard Tom's voice let out a small, "I'm sorry."

You bit your lip and lowered your head. "Don't do this! Not here!" you begged yourself. "You don't have to apologize, Tom," you said, surprised that you were even able to get that out of you. Your hand was still clenching the doorknob.

"Y/N, can we please talk?" Tom asked. "I just need to clear the air on a few things."

You could tell he was a little desperate for this. Part of you wondered if this was something he had planned all along. You knew you did not owe him anything, but part of you wanted to hear him out.

You turned around and set the box on top of the kitchen counter. You leaned against the counter, crossing your arms. "Do you want to sit down?" Tom offered. You shook your head. "No thanks."

And it's really such a shame It's such a shame 'Cause I was Miss "Here to stay" Now I'm Miss "Gonna be alright someday" And someday maybe you'll miss me But by then, you'll be Mr. "Too late"

So Tom stood too. He looked you in the eye the entire time he spoke, but he also twiddled his fingers.

"I'm sorry that we ended things the way we did. I'm sorry for the way I treated you, how I yelled at you and insulted you. No one should ever have to hear those words, and I know I should have treated you better. I'm truly sorry."

You swallowed the lump in your throat and bit the inside of your cheek. This was all you wanted - a genuine apology. Now that you finally got it, you weren't sure how to process it.

But you knew you better say something, too.

"I-I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry for how I treated you, too. I said some horrible things to you, too, and I wish I could take them back. I'm sorry."

The damn started to break now. A few small tears started to roll down your cheeks. You wiped them away with your sleeve, hoping it would hinder the rest.

There was so much more that you wanted to say to him, but you knew if you did, you would not be able to control yourself. Tom took a step closer to, with the intent to give you a hug. But you held your hand up to stop him, which he respected.

That was when you took a step closer to him, stood on your tiptoes, and kissed him on his cheek.

"Goodbye, Tom," you said, your voice cracking. "Thank you." "I wish you well."

You did not give him the time to speak. You quickly turned around, grabbed the box from the counter, and walked out the door.

You pushed through the doors of the building and walked out into the street. You got lucky again and immediately hailed a cab before saying goodbye to Tony.

On your ride home, you watched people pass on the sidewalk. The box was resting in your lap. The tears you had been working so hard to hold back were starting to fall. But you did not feel any tinge of sadness, anger, or any pain. The feeling in your chest was mostly bittersweet.

You accepted that that was probably the last time you were ever going to see Tom, and you were beginning to feel okay with that. You were also beginning to feel happy that he was fine. Despite the pain that the both of you endured, you truly just wanted to see him happy. And now you finally knew that he wants the same for you too.

You reached up and wiped away the tears that were still rolling down your cheeks. A part of you will always love Tom, but after today, you can finally take the steps to move on.

You know you will be perfectly fine too someday.

Goodbye Mr. "Perfectly fine" How's your heart after breakin' mine? Mr. "Always at the right place at the right time," baby Goodbye Mr. "Casually cruel" Mr. "Everything revolves around you" I've been Miss "Misery" for the last time And you're Mr. "Perfectly fine" You're perfectly fine

Click here to read Part II (Changing Minds)

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #taylor swift #mr. perfectly fine #mr perfectly fine #fic: perfectly fine #fandom: rpf #rpf: tom holland #ch: ofc #ch: reader

[on-maars]

Find My Way Home (Back To You)

Alright I wrote a post Eddie Begins episode fic and I really hope you’ll like it :)

Read it on AO3

Eddie sighs and turns around for what might be the tenth time in the past two hours.

He can’t sleep. He can’t sleep without being back there again. He can’t sleep without stopping the nightmares. Not about the war. He’s had his fair share of night terrors about the war, but lately the nightmares have taken another direction. He doesn’t dream of being the target of a thousand snipers anymore. He dreams of that moment. He dreams of being back there again, buried in the ground, thirty feet of wet earth above him, trapped, without any way of getting back to his son, without any way of getting back to his family. It’s suffocating, and Eddie often wakes up soaking wet, his hair sticking to his forehead, his sheet drenched in sweat. Drenched in sweat, and tears. His tears.

He can’t sleep and he tried everything. Every method he can think of. Every method his mother used to teach him when he was scared and alone at night, suffering from insomnia. He tried some breathing exercises his therapist showed him the week before, tried taking a walk around the neighborhood to clear his head and take his mind off things, he tried reading a book and even went through some meditations videos on YouTube that Buck recommended to him a while back. But nothing is working. His mind keeps sending him back to that place. To the well.

Eddie turns around again and lets his eyes fall on his alarm clock as it reads 2:49am. Eddie sighs and presses his hands to his face, apprehending the 24 hours shift waiting for him in the early hours of the morning. Not necessarily because of the fatigue. After all it wouldn’t be the first time Eddie gets through an awfully long shift with the 118 with only a few hours of sleep in his system.

No, he’s only apprehending it because he knows, deep down, that he’s so far from being in the right state of mind to face the difficulties of his job. He feels more restless, more fidgety, less focused than usual. And if there is no doubt in Eddie’s mind that the 118 is going to notice his mood swings. And if they notice, then he’s going to need to explain. Explain the extent of how messed-up he is in the head. Explain how the war still terrorized him sometimes at night. Explain how tight his throat is ever since he’s made it out of that well. And that’s a conversation he’s not ready to face.

Eddie looks up at the ceiling and gropes around in the dark until his right hand finds his phone. He knows scrolling mindlessly the news is only going to keep his brain more awake but he doesn’t find it in him to care anymore. He unlocks his phone and frowns when he notices an unseen message from his sister in his inbox. The message is short, but it catches Eddie’s attention.

“Isn’t he your friend Buck?!”

There is a link just underneath it and when Eddie clicks on it, his breath catches in his throat and his heart starts pounding hard against his chest. It’s a video. A video of that day. A video of the rig, collapsing, and burying him under thirty feet of earth in the process. Only the video doesn’t show only that. It also shows his coworkers’ reaction. It also shows Buck.

Buck

Buck, who collapses on the ground and completely falls to pieces. Buck, who screams his name and starts digging the earth with his bare hands. Buck, who bursts into tears and whose face is contorted with fear, rage and pain. Eddie watches him as he continues calling out his name in agony, he watches him as Bobby needs to physically restrain him to stop him from digging, and Eddie swears he can feel his heart cracked open at the sight.

The scene is devastating, heartbreaking, and the last seconds of the video only shows Buck, sitting on the ground, his head down, tears rolling down his face, as the rain continues pouring down on him.

By the time Eddie finishes watching the video, his hands are shaking and the room is spinning. His whole body is tense, buzzing with a nervous energy and Eddie closes his eyes fiercely but he can’t get the images out of his head. How can he? How can he when he had to sit through and watch his best-friend having a complete breakdown in a video with more than a million views? How can he when until then, he was so far up his own ass not to notice that Buck was hurting too? Not to notice that he wasn't the only one who ended up traumatized by this day?

He sits back straight on his bed, and leans his back against the headboard, running both of his hands through his hair a few times, ignoring how his heart pulses in his head, making it hurt.

He takes his phone in his hand and gets up, stepping out of his room and going down the stairs until he reaches the living-room. Here, he lets himself fall on the couch, rubbing his temples with his fingers, his eyes closed. In vain. It’s no use. It’s no use trying to get his breathing back to normal while the only thing he really wants is to see his best-friend with his own two eyes and make sure he’s okay.

“Can you come over?” He sends. It’s short and vague, but Eddie knows Buck keeps his phone in sound mode at all times just in case this kind of emergencies come up.

But is it an emergency? Eddie asks himself as he brings his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. It’s not. Not really. But Buck’s answer still comes after just a few seconds.

“Be there in 15. You okay? Christopher?”

“We’re okay. Just need to see you.”

Eddie jumps out of the couch and starts pacing back and forth in the living-room, not knowing what to do with himself. He squats down and starts picking up every Lego bricks lying around on the carpet, on the coffee table under the sofa. Christopher was in the middle of building a (more than unstable) house before heading to bed and he seemed so tired from his school day Eddie didn’t have the heart to ask him to tidy. He’s in the middle of retrieving a brick which ended up under the carpet when he hears the distinct sound of someone opening the front door.

He whirls his head around and finds himself face to face with Buck who looks around the living-room in alarm, his eyes wide. His hair is disheveled and his shoes are mismatched and Eddie almost feels bad for waking him up in the middle of the night while they both have a 24 hours shift waiting for them in a few hours. His best-friend’s face softens when his eyes fall on him, and Eddie doesn’t waste any time to close the gap separating them and wrapping his arms around his neck to hold him close.

“Evan Buckley I swear to god you’re going to be the death of me.” He says, not thinking twice before burying his face in the crook of his best-friend’s neck. Buck seems taken aback for a few seconds, but he doesn’t question it and reciprocate the embrace with just as much vigor. “I’m sorry.” Eddie eventually says, grabbing his tee-shirt with his right hand.

“You’re sorry?” Buck repeats, his voiced filled with confusion. “About what?” He adds.

“God I’ve been so far up my own ass these past few days, haven’t I?” Eddie asks, taking a step back and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, following his gaze until he’s sure Buck looks at him in the eye. His best-friend seems reluctant at first, almost as if he already knows where the conversation is going, but then he finally meets his gaze and Eddie’s look is so intense and he’s watching him with so much attention something in his face just breaks. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what, Eds?” Buck asks, but from the way his voice breaks, Eddie knows it’s just a way for him to try and take the conversation elsewhere.

“Buck.” Eddie says, and it’s a warning. We’re having that conversation whether you like it or not.

“Eddie, just- Don’t, alright?” Buck starts. “It’s okay. You’re okay. It’s all that matters.”

“I saw the video.” Eddie says, taking another step backwards until he sits on a kitchen chair, running his right hand through his hair.

“What video?” Buck says, his voice small, but sighs and looks down when Eddie maintains eye-contact. “Took you long enough.” He only adds, leaning against the fridge. “It was literally everywhere on the news. Big headlines too.” He says, letting out a humorless laugh.

“Buck-”

“But again, I’spose it’s fun to see a firefighter completely losing it after his best-friend has been buried thirty feet underground.” Buck cuts in, his voice hollow. “I guess it ‘entertains’ people just fine”

“Buck-” Eddie starts, but his friend is faster.

“As if I want to relive that moment, you know?” Buck goes on and his voice is louder now, more aggressive. “As if one time wasn’t enough.”

“Buck, I-”

“Eddie, you cut the damn line!” He exclaims and Eddie jumps with surprise at how raw and demanding his tone is. “You cut the damn line!” He repeats and a tear rolls down his left cheek. “And you know what the worst part is? The worst part is that I can’t even blame you for it! You wanted to save that kid… I mean, how can I blame you for wanting to save that kid, Eddie? I can’t. I would be a fucking hypocrite if I did, man. Cause I would have done the same thing if the roles were reversed.”

“It doesn’t mean you can’t be mad.” Eddie says, keeping his eyes down, incapable of meeting his best-friend’s gaze. “It doesn’t mean you can’t be angry.” He adds. “Hell, I know I would be.”

“I just- Eddie, did you ever stop for a second to imagine what it was like for me? I was pulling you out Eds. I was pulling you out and then the weight was just- the weight was just gone. You were gone.” He says through gritted teeth and Eddie darts his eyes towards him for just a second, but that’s still enough time for him to see the expression of complete agony and pure heartbreak on his best-friend’s face. Eddie looks away just as fast and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“But that’s not even the worst part, oh no.” Buck goes on and Eddie knows this one is on a roll. He’s determined and he won’t stop until he got everything off his chest. “ Because then this damn rig just collapsed and I- I couldn’t get you out, I- You were… You were buried, Eds. You were buried and I swear to god I would have dug the whole thing with my bare hands if I had to.”

“I know you would’ve.” Eddie only says, staring at Buck, his eyes filled with the tears he’s been trying to hold back for the past fifteen minutes. “I know you would’ve.”

“I didn’t give up on you.” Buck answers, as if he’s trying to justify his actions in a courtroom. “You’ve got to know that, alright?” He repeats. “I didn’t give up on you. Even when people were trying to convince me that there was no way you would have survived that, I didn’t- I didn’t give up on you.”

“Hey, hey, I know.” Eddie instantly reassures him, getting up and closing the gap between them. “I know.” He repeats, cupping Buck’s cheeks with his hands. “You didn’t give up.”

“I didn’t give up.” Buck nods, his lips quivering.

“Buck, do you think- do you think I’m mad at you because you didn’t try hard enough?” Eddie manages to articulate, his fingers playing with the roots of Buck’s hair. “How could you have tried any harder?” Eddie adds, letting out a nervous laugh. “For Christ’s sake Evan, you told me yourself you were ready to dig the whole thing by hands. There’s nothing you could have done. You hear me?”

Buck frantically nods and Eddie sighs, wrapping his right arm around his neck to pull him forward. Buck’s whole body tenses and it’s only when his shoulders start shaking that Eddie realizes his best-friend is full-on sobbing against him, his tears wetting his white tee-shirt. Buck rests his forehead on his shoulder and Eddie simply runs his left hand through his hair while the other traces small patterns on his back, holding him tight. He presses his lips on his hair, closing his eyes fiercely for a few seconds while throwing his head backwards, looking up at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry.” Buck says against him. “Here I am again, making the whole thing about me while you’re the one who’ve been buried underground.”

“Don’t be stupid Buck, I’m the one who should apologize here. I was so focused on my pain and the nightmares that I-”

“Nightmares?” Buck whirls his head up to meet his eyes. “You have nightmares about the well?” He asks, his eyes full of concern, and Eddie lets out an incredulous laugh.

“Yeah but that’s not the point, Buck.” He says, dismissing his concern with a hand’s gesture. “I should have seen you were hurting. I’m sorry.” He adds. “And yes I have nightmares but Buck you need to know you’re the only reason I got out. You and Christopher? I couldn’t have done it without you guys. Wouldn’t have done it. But I promised myself I’ll always find my way back home. So I did.”

Eddie cradles his chin with his left hand, forcing him to look up.

“That… That was sappy as hell, man.” Buck tries and Eddie snorts, placing his hand on his cheek to make him look away.

“Says the one who was ready to dig thirty feet of wet earth with his bare hands.” He says playfully and then Buck does this thing again where he looks down with a shy smile and Eddie’s heart just melts at the sight.

When Buck lifts his gaze again, their lips are only separated by a few inches of space and Eddie’s head is spinning. He stays there, motionless, not knowing whether he should finally gives in to years of pining and unresolved tension. But then, Buck’s eyes dart towards his lips and all his good sense goes up in smoke. Eddie looks at him for permission and when Buck nods, he places his hand on the back of his neck and presses their lips together. It doesn’t last long. It’s brief, and when Eddie takes a step back, Buck’s lips chase his own a second time and he only smiles and complies happily.

This time, the kiss is more heated and Buck’s hands find their way on the back of Eddie’s neck, biting his lower lip to demand access to his mouth. Eddie smiles against his mouth and runs both of his hands through his hair, bringing him closer. This earns him a small whimper from Buck and Eddie only kisses him harder, pressing his best-friend’s body against the fridge and sliding his hand underneath his tee-shirt.

“God I can’t believe we waited three years to do that.” Buck says Eddie huffs out a laugh against his lips.

“Well I mean you were a bit slow on the uptake.” Eddie teases him.

“Oh fuck off.” Buck taps him on the head playfully. “You know I couldn’t just- I had to be sure.”

“I know.” Eddie says, his voice soft.

“I couldn’t do the first move. I had to wait for… I had to wait for you to do it. Even if I knew that you- because I knew. Of course I knew. But-”

“Hey.” Eddie cuts him off by cupping his cheeks with his hands. “I know.” He repeats. “Alright then Evan. Let’s get you to bed.”

“Lead the way, Edmundo.”

“Not my name.” Eddie says with a smile, taking his hand in his to guide him towards the bedroom.

“Sorry. Eduardo.”

“Still not my name, man."

"Diaz?"

"That's it, you’re sleeping on the damn couch, Buckley.” Eddie warns but the smile on his face betrays him.

“Really? You would make me sleep on the couch? The guy who was ready to dig 30 feet of wet earth with his bare han-”

“Oh my god will you shut up?” Eddie whispers loudly, being careful not to wake up Christopher fast asleep in the adjoining room.

“Make me.” Buck says, a hint of amusement in his voice and Eddie?

Well Eddie wastes no time to crash their lips together another time.

#buddie #buddie fic #9-1-1 #Eddie Begins #Evan Buckley #Eddie diaz #911 #buck x eddie

[konggodzuko]

Momtara & Dadko

Hello! Back with some more fics, just in time for Zutara month!!! This one is a piece of an old WIP on mine, modified a but and chopped down, but I still think it’s a cute fluffy thing. Ao3 link 

Story:

When the airship had descended to about twenty feet above from the snowy airfield, several crew members rappelled out to the ground, meeting the airfield’s ground crew.

“—and now, the they will work together to use the ropes the aircrew came down on to pull the airship a few more feet and then fasten it down,” Zuko explained.

There was a burble in response, then a small, yet strong hand grabbed his hair and pulled.

Zuko barely reacted, only readjusting the baby in his arms before pulling the hand away from his hair, and muttering, “No, Ursa, don’t grab Daddy’s hair,” before smiling, “Well, you seem to be in a better mood now, Moon Peach. Come on, let’s get back to Mommy and your siblings.”

The father and daughter left the observation deck and made their way through the ship to the royal family’s cabin.

Zuko opened the door and was relieved to see that things had calmed down a bit from earlier. Twelve-year-old Kya was reading a well-worn copy of Love Amongst the Dragons, while seven-year-old Haruki was working on a large drawing of… something he couldn’t see from this angle, and three-year-old Kiviuq was playing with animal toys.

Katara was sitting by the cabin window, and alternated between reading a document — Zuko was fairly certain it was a report on Nationalist movements in the Fire Nation — and staring out the window with a slightly giddy expression.

The entire family was dressed in Water Tribe blues, but the parkas had been foregone as the airship was still warm. Splashes of purple, red and gold accented the blues, to pay homage to the family’s mixed heritage.

The room itself was stately and well-furnished — reflecting the scaled-back royal aesthetic Zuko had come to prefer, with a distinct Water Tribe influence in the decor — but still rather cramped for a family of six used to having a full palace to themselves.

Zuko entered the room and Katara looked over at him, “How is she?”

“She’s fine, we were watching the airmen and ground crew bring the ship in,” he tickled Ursa under her chin, causing her to squeal happily, “And Ursa found Daddy very interesting, right?”

“Mama!” Ursa suddenly called out through her giggles, “Mama!”

Katara put her scroll aside and walked over to the pair. Ursa held out her arms and made grabby hands, so Katara plucked her daughter from Zuko’s hands and began peppering kisses all over the baby’s face.

“It should just be a few minutes before we disembark.”

Katara pulled away from Ursa and said, “I hope so, I want to be out there already,” she smiled at Ursa and started to coo, “isn’t that right, Moon Peach? Mommy is soooo tired of this cabin, and I bet you are too!”

Zuko gave his wife a quick peck on the cheek before leaving the mom and daughter and moving to look over the shoulder of Haruki, “What’re you working on?” The drawing was clearly supposed to be a human, or at least humanoid, but the head looked odd, even for a seven-year-old’s drawing, colored a green-blue with big red eyes. It reminded him of an insect.

“It’s my costume!” Haruki proclaimed, “It’s what I’m gonna wear to fight bad guys!”

Zuko raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

“Mmhmm!”

“Where’d you get this idea?”

Haruki turned, and looked at his dad with large eyes that sparkled in wonder, “Kya told me about the Blue Spirit and Painted Lady! And how they fought bad guys all over the Fire Nation after you became Firelord!” He gasped, “Did you ever meet them?”

Zuko glanced off to the side, internally cursing his oldest daughter’s obsession with history, then said, “Erm, once or twice.”

“Wow! How cool were they? Are they spirits? Or are they people? Oh! Or are they spirits and people combined? Oh—”

“Sorry, kiddo, but again, I only met them once or twice, and it was very quick. I know what they looked like, but not much else.”

Haruki’s face fell, “Awww…”

Zuko ruffled his son’s hair, then asked, “So why green?”

“‘Cause it’s my second favorite color besides blue! And the Blue Spirit’s already Blue, so I can’t be blue!”

“Ohhh, okay. Well, your drawing’s very, very good.”

“Thanks daddy!” He went back to furiously scribbling with crayons.

“Daddy!” Zuko felt a tug on his pant leg, and he looked down to see Kiviuq staring up at him, holding aloft a wooden dragon. Kiviuq smiled widely when he saw he had hid father’s attention, and then asked quietly, “Dragon breath?”

“Er,” he glanced at Katara who had shot him ‘The Look’, “sorry, Snowball, but dragon breath is an outside thing, remember? Ask me later, okay?”

Kiviuq pouted slightly (and boy could Zuko see Katara in their son’s pout) but said, “Okay…” and wandered back to his corner to continue playing with his toys.

Zuko glanced at Kya and grinned, but didn’t go over to her. She was nose-deep in a book, and he knew that any sort of “unnecessary” distraction would be barely acknowledged. It was how he used to get way back before his banishment, when he just loved to read.

He went back over to Katara, who was bounding Ursa on her knee, much to their daughter’s delight.

“Exited to be back home?” He asked, smiling.

Katara grinned broadly, “I’ve needed this for a while. Everything’s been so—” she waved her hand irritably, “everything in Caldera, I can already feel myself relaxing.”

“You realize that the Council will probably immediately request you to show up at sessions, right?”

She laughed, “That’s fine, I’d still much rather deal with fishery disputes than, well,” she gestured at the scroll she had been reading.

“It’s nothing new, right?” They had had a briefing about the current situation regarding Nationalist violence shortly before their departure. The scroll had arrived via messenger hawk about a day into their flight, along with several other documents that their ministers had deemed important enough to pass on.

She sighed, “Apparently they’re starting to leave the Fire Nation and set up shop in the Republic.”

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose, “Of course they are,” he shook his head, “Well, nothing can be done about that right now.”

“True,” Katara said.

Their conversation was interrupted by Ursa, who yelled angrily and patted Katara’s knee, which had stopped bouncing at some point.

The parents chuckled, and Katara resumed a gentle bounce.

The family sat in quiet peace for a while as the crews worked to secure the airship so they could depart. Ursa eventually tired out and fell asleep on her mom, but after a few minutes Katara transferred her to Zuko, who had donned a sling to carry the sleeping baby. As the Firelady went back to the report she had b been reading, her husband strode around the room, rocking the baby to keep her asleep.

Eventually, there came a polite knock at the cabin door.

“Come in,” Katara said.

There was a creak as it opened to allow Qibolin, the airship’s captain, to step in. He fell into an immaculate bow and said, “Your Majesties, I am delighted to report that we have officially arrived in the Southern Water Tribe. It also appears that Chief Hakoda has already arrived to greet you.”

“Thank you, Qibolin,” Zuko said, as Katara was already pulling out the parkas and bundling up the children.

It took a few minutes to get everyone properly dressed, but soon the family was moving through the passageways and arrived at the starboard hatch, where a gangway had been extended to the ground. And at the base of the gangway, chatting with a few of the airmen who had rappelled down earlier, was —

“Grandpa!” Kya and Haruki yelled at the same time and shot down the ramp.

Zuko and Katara shouted a simultaneous and useless “Don’t run!” Kiviuq — held by Zuko — shouted and tried to follow his older siblings, but there was no way Zuko was going to let his tiny son toddle down the ramp on his own. Ursa — held by Katara — paid no mind and just snuggled into her mom’s neck.

“Kids!” Hakoda yelled joyfully and leaned at the bottom of the gangway, arms spread wide. Kya and Haruki crashed into him and he wrapped them up in a big hug.

Zuko and Katara gave each other tired looks before continuing down themselves.

#atla #Zuko #Katara #steambabies #Zutara #Zutara month #momtara and dadko