The light of the candle on the table flickers as Jaskier passes by, and returns, and passes by again.
A true performer, Geralt thinks. Even when he doesn't perform, even when no one is there to see except him. Always moving, always loud, currently talking about something Geralt is not quite sure he's grasping, mostly becasue he's too busy gazing at him rather than actually listening.
And Jaskier is walking back and forth, hands flying all over, an amused smile on his face like he discovered the secrets of the universe. Speaking of some old runes, bones, discoveries, the poetry of unchanging humanity and then again, random information, the latest Oxenfurt gossip that Geralt couldn't care less about.
Still, he is listening. And all the same, he's wondering. Wondering about how he's only seen Jaskier so enthusiastic when it's him he's talking to, how the glint in his eyes is the warmest that it has ever been and how, when they share a single glance, there's this sea of safety and trust flooding from Jaskier's look, one that tickles pleasantly, like standing deliberately in front of a scrotching fire, just to feel your skin burn. Home.
He doesn't know, truly. Doesn't know what he can have possibly done to aspire that.
The only thing he knows is that, suddenly, Jaskier stops in his tracks, stares at him and, like a melting candle, his expression softens.
Geralt frowns. But has not the time to ask.
"I love when you look at me like that," Jaskier says and his voice is low, like a secret never to be confessed again. There's a wide smile curving his lips yet it feels timid, lacking the boldness usually coming with it.
It's funny, Geralt thinks. Peculiar, and funny. And he will never guess the reason. He tilts his head. "Like what?"
"Like..." Jaskier wets his lips and takes a deep breath, eyes flying around the room as if they will find the proper words hanging from the walls. He huffs, a bittersweet thing. "Like you never want me to stop talking."
A pause. If a punch to the gut can feel pleasant, Geralt thinks he has just experienced it. He stares at Jaskier, and the bard stares back, hesitant, uncertain as if of what he just dared to say. And Geralt is not good with words, he knows. But the shadow passing before Jaskier's eyes and the way he lowers his look, his stomach dropping with it, makes him swear he will get better, if it's to never see that particular shadow again. That veil of painful, unwanted memory.
Still. The veil vanishes at once, or that's what Jaskier tries to do, because he chuckles again with this carefree breath of his voice and sweeps a hand in the air. "Anyway, as I was saying I–"
He stops at once, as though waiting for this interruption, craving it. Geralt stares for a second more, then swallows and stands up, walking up to him. Gently, as though touching a statue of glass, he holds Jaskier's face inside his hands. Strokes his cheek with his thumb and as he looks into his eyes, he feels as though witnessing the most beautiful of blue skies.
Jaskier stiffens under his touch, unwillingly. "I mean," he chuckles humourlessly as if trying to justify an inexcusable weakness, cover up what is already broken, "I talk all the time, say random or– or weird stuff, I–" he averts his eyes, bites his lips, "–I'm not quite used to it, that's all. And I know you don't like–" He looks at him again, his gaze screaming, but he doesn't continue his sentence. He just shrugs, smiles as if in apology.
A deep sigh, and Geralt's touch becomes just a bit firmer, just enough to make Jaskier swallow and close his eyes, lean into it. Geralt nods in silent, almost unexpected understanding and presses his lips on Jaskier's forehead, lingering.
Then, slowly, like an intimate ritual, he rests his own forehead where he previously kissed him. As though to seal a promise. "I want to listen to your voice every day, as much as it's possible, for as long as time holds our fates together." Jaskier opens his eyes and meets his gaze, faintly glistening. Geralt smiles at him, begging almost. "Please," he whispers and it sounds like a prayer, "please don't deprive me of it any sooner."
He sees it, the veil. He sees it falling. And Jaskier smiles wide and finally, finally Geralt can tell that it's genuine. "I won't." A soft kiss on his lips, loving in all its haste. Jaskier draws back, beaming. "I promise."
Geralt huffs and pulls a stray curl aside from blue eyes and behind Jaskier's ear, takes in the scent, the warmth, the laughter, everything he can grasp before it's gone, and suddenly he knows.
When Jaskier starts talking again, something in his heart settles.
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Today’s rec list consists of bottom Louis fics that take place in the country, the Midwest, or any rural area. We hope you enjoy. If you do, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!
1) Save A Horse | Explicit | 2400 words
Louis goes to a rodeo with Liam, and gets a lot more than he bargained for. Featuring bull rider Harry, obnoxious t-shirts, and one hell of a night.
“Come on Jackson ain’t you been practicin? It ain’t fun for me if I always beat you,” the boy drawls out, voice slow and thick like molasses. “You comin out tonight?” he asks, nudging him with his elbow.
“Not tonight H, me and Liam are going to grab something to eat,” Jackson replies, the blush returning to Liam’s cheeks.
“What about you, what’re your plans for the night darlin’?” Harry asks, crooking an eyebrow in Louis’s direction.
Louis, who is the epitome of outgoing and confident, is at a total loss for words. He starts to say something but freezes, Harry now raising his other eyebrow and smirking, awaiting Louis’s response. “I uh- I’ll probably just go home,” Louis manages to stammer out, and what the fuck? Who is this man and how has he turned Louis into an introvert in a matter of seconds?
2) Gunsmoke | Explicit | 6527 words
Harry 'Gunsmoke' Styles and his boys Liam, Zayn, and Niall are all traveling cowboys who come across a small town on their journey to nowhere. They hang out at a tavern where Harry meets Louis, a cute and fiery bartender, and they may or may not fall in love.
3) Hey I Heard You Were A Wild One (If I Took You Home It'd Be A Homerun) | Explicit | 12106 words
Harry came to the bar to forget. Louis gives him a night to remember.
4) This Land Is More Than Dreams | Explicit | 12878 words
Louis is a student taking a gap year, travelling through the States. His plans change when he meets a cute cowboy-wannabe in one of the towns.
5) Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy | Mature | 13356 words
Harry owns a farm and Louis rides horses (and pretty boys sometimes) for a living. Harry hurts himself by being clumsy before he gets to ride a horse with Louis.
6) Manifest Destiny | Explicit | 15210 words
Louis is a Pony Express rider and Harry runs a station along the trail.
7) Baby Blue | Explicit | 39439 words
Harry Styles takes his time coming out to greet them. Louis only knows what he’s seen on file and what he’s heard them talking about, but he fully lives up to the image he had inside of his head.
He saunters down the front steps of the farmhouse in his Levi’s, brown snakeskin boots curving out from underneath the denim Louis’ sure he had specially made. He’s got on a plaid button-down tucked into the jeans because of course he does, curls spilling out from either side of his cowboy hat around his sunglasses and country-tan skin.
“Harry Styles,” he drawls, extending a hand to Louis’ manager, “Pleased to meet ya’ll.”
8) I Ain’t Gonna Fence You In | Mature | 40645 words
Louis Tomlinson is a 18 year old city boy who is forced to spend his summer before his senior year at his aunts farm. There, he meets Harry, a 19 year old country boy his aunt hired to help around the farm.
Maybe the farm isn't the worst place to fall in love?
9) Boiling Blood Will Circulate | Explicit | 42420 words
The wait isn’t long before something starts rustling in the bushes. Harry takes aim, squeezes the trigger, body moving unconsciously. They’re motions he’s done a thousand times before, and his body knows how to do it without the input of his brain now. It’s what makes him such a good shot.
He misses. The shot misses.
Something howls in the woods, a pretty clear indication that Harry hit it, but there’s no telltale sounds of a big body dropping, no animal charging out at him to take him out before he can finish the job.
Something does turn and run, though. “Fuck,” Harry spits out, scrambling to his feet and slinging the rifle back over his shoulder, giving chase. He’s not going to lose this hunt.
The trail of blood goes on longer than Harry thought it would. He doesn’t know how long he runs for, but his muscles are burning, chest heaving with exertion, until the trail just - goes dead. No more blood, just like that.
“Fuck,” Harry says.
10) Your Touch Shouldn't Make Me Feel Like This | Explicit | 48883 words
Uni AU in which Alpha Harry has been in love with his omega friend for the longest time and one motorbike trip to the countryside with Louis made him realize that he could no longer hold back his feelings.
11) For the Sake of Propriety | Mature | 52360 words
Louis Tomlinson is the caretaker of an estate that is not truly his, and when his Uncle calls upon him to take it back, Louis knows he will soon be out on the streets with four overly zealous sisters to care for. His only solution: wed the eldest two off and pray for the best. When an even better solution unexpectedly presents itself in the form of the charming Mr. Styles, Louis is faced with a difficult choice. But as with all things in the regency era, reputation very well may threaten to outweigh the fleeting matters of his heart.
12) Through The Wheatfields And The Coastlines | Explicit | 52855 words
“You’re not from around here, are ya?” Hot Cowboy asks, tracking his little lamb with his eyes. Louis frowns slightly, having thought he was doing pretty well at not sticking out like a sore thumb. It’s not like he’s not from around here — it’s not his first summer he’s spent at his grandparents'. But he supposes that the Manhattan city lifestyle that he’s used to is always going to shine through.
“I’m visiting family for the summer,” Louis explains, cheeks a little pink. “Trying to get some work done without distractions.”
13) The Bachelor | Explicit | 53953 words
The one where Harry dates six other guys and still falls in love with Louis Tomlinson.
14) Apples Always Fall (As I Do For You) | Mature | 54609 words | Sequel
Louis is staying at his Aunt's farm in a small town in Minnesota for four months. To deal with the boredom that sets in a week into his stay, he starts working at the local apple orchard, owned by twenty six year old Harry Styles.
Louis quickly finds himself falling in love with the orchard, and he finds a family in Harry's friends Niall, Liam, and Zayn.
He also starts to fall in love with Harry.
Falling in love with him turns out to be the easy part.
15) Such Good Luck | Explicit | 66025 words
An Edwardian AU where Harry is a young aristocratic lord and Louis is a working class dairy farmer. Secrets are a necessary part of their relationship, but Louis has one that could topple their whole world.
16) Given a Chance | Explicit | 173511 words
Five years after One Direction took their last tour, the last thing Louis Tomlinson ever expected to happen while on a tea run at the local Piggly Wiggly was to run into his ex-boyfriend and ex-bandmate Harry Styles.
The odds of them ever running into each other again had to be super slim, right?
What happens when you mix ex-boyfriends with a large serving of Small Town America? Will Louis and Harry be able to set aside their differences, or will Louis be able to stay breezy as fuck in the wake of Harry’s arrival?
Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.
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hi love , do u have any soft smuts of jm u recommend 🥺
hello sweetheart :) yes I do.. I’m sure I’ve mentioned some of these before bc they’re my favourite but some are new! I also an ask a little while ago for jimin smut (not just soft :) here.
don’t forget to show some love to the authors please!! ❤️
flames unbridled by @lurejoon
quiet kisses by @hueseok
home late by @hobipost
snowed in by @stayjimin
in the stars tonight by @mercurygguk
firelight by @kpopfanfictrash
and by @cutechim we have two from hana’s brilliant owaw!universe bc owaw!jimin is nothing but the biggest simp for his girl, truly enamoured which = the best softest lovemaking ever written 🥰 :
picking petals and pretty please ( + the smut in the actual series — give it a read!)
sorry the list isn’t so long, i haven’t read many new fics recently and I also tried to keep it mostly the soft smut :) enjoy!!! 💘💓
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Wings Behaving Badly (SamBucky fics)
Some of my favorite (mostly E-rated) takes on wings (and a couple of my own) with Samtember Day 21 (wings) in mind.... caveat as always that there are so many amazing fics out there and I know I've only scratched the surface!
Sam with real wings:
Blackbird Wings by @sassysnowperson | 4651w | rated E
"God damn it," Sam swore heartily, trying to scratch between his shoulder blades. It itched. It itched like nothing had ever fucking itched before in his life. And that was counting the one summer day he and Sarah had played in the creek without putting on any mosquito repellent and Sam had gotten bit forty-four times.
Keep Thee In All Thy Ways by @abarbaricyalp | 2532w | rated M
Bucky was just about thrumming out of his skin. Not entirely figuratively. Sam, beside him, was much more composed. But there was a ready grin on his mouth that he usually kept a little more hidden. All the promises in that grin were not helping Bucky keep himself contained. They sought these events out like a challenge, chances to be their true selves without attracting too much attention. Or, at least, the bad kind of attention. Krampus celebrations and monster conventions and horror movie events all kept them sated throughout the year, but Halloween and haunted houses were easiest....
Featherlight by @anactorya | 4131w | rated E
After an accident in a creepy lab, Sam ends up with actual wings. Great big, white, feathery angel wings, which are way more of a pain in the ass than you'd think. Bucky offers him a helping hand.
Sam's Captain America wings read his mind:
Birds Flying High (you know how I feel) by @liminalmess | 2867w | rated E
When Sam had asked Bucky if he wanted to tag along to his first time training Torres on using the Falcon wings, Bucky replied with a smirk and a “yeah, I’m not missing a chance to stare at you unbothered while you fly.” It drew a head shake and a grin Sam tried to hide by turning away to pack his bag. Bucky caught it anyway and laughed quietly.
Electric Love by the_crown_jules | 1834w | rated T
When Sam realizes that his wings low-key read his mind, he starts reflecting on things. If this had slipped by his attention for so long, what else had changed while Sam wasn’t looking? One of those changes might be how he looks at Bucky. Another might be how Bucky looks at him.
Sam's Captain America wings are useful for concealing certain activities:
Take Me Under Your Wings by @yavannie | 6224w | rated E
Bucky smiles again, wolfish this time, and says: “You know, every time we end up under here, I think about all the things we could do without anyone knowing.”
Practice Makes Perfect by the_crown_jules | 6666w | rated E
Bucky’s embarrassing encounter with the side of a building means he’s stuck practicing aerial catches with Sam. How much time can Bucky spend wrapped around the man he’s in love with before he can’t hide his feelings….or other things? One way or another, he’s about to find out.
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a birthday rec post!
for @foxmagpie’s birthday i’m celebrating her beautiful brain with five of my fav of her fics. If you haven’t checked them out i highkey recommend you fix your lives post-haste bc like my taste in people, my taste in fic is impeccable (though i am open to counterarguments if you guys have others you want to add on).
gOD this fic is so cUTE
i say fic but it’s tech an anthology of delinquents future snippets and this is just one chapter and while i’m here i heartily rec all of it
truly a galaxy brain concept on megan’s part, she’s tormenting us with a(n exquisite) slow burn in delinquents but also giving us the goods so we know what to look forward to
i love having my cake and eating it too, is what i’m saying
especially when the cake is as sweet and delightful as this one
look it’s a really neat trick to be able to write rio as a giddy sap of a teenage!! person and still have it feel totally in line with his adult canon self somehow idk how she does it but i’m so glad she does
i’m gonna start us off by promising you guys i think about this fic an extremely normal amount
i also want to disclaim that i know beth gaming a douchebag named parker in a bar isn’t an homage to buffy bc megan’s refusal to watch is a source of endless torment BUT no one can stop me from taking it as one
i think one of the things that gets me with this fic is how neatly and efficiently it weaves in beth and rio’s (brief) history with the exact right amount of pining that i’m fully on board and rooting for them to get together not just hook up but it doesn’t take away from the bouncy, light, fun feel of the fic
plus oh my goD is it sexy
who gave you the right????????????
the way this fic stresses me out
weird opening to a rec, i know but hear me out: the mounting tension is a perfectly paced build that sets up the culmination to hit like a hammer
it’s also a really excellent study in how isolating fear and stress can be and how even the most well-intentioned comfort can be the least comforting thing in the world and idk maybe that’s a weird thing to rec about it too but i think that’s so real and messy and i love how the discordant note of it plays into the tension
i know it’s not meant to be but it plays as an excellent counterpart to back to our cocoon which is only not on this list bc i made the stupid ass decision to stick to five but you should def consider that recced as well
I Will Collect and Capture You
look if you haven’t read this fic yet idk what to tell you
i really wanted to stick with stuff i hadn’t recced a bunch before but i love this one too much to leave it off but since i’ve yelled about it a bunch already i’ll be brief
while it is technically a wip, each chapter feels like a complete standalone arc so if you’ve been sitting on this one, stop making bad choices
features peak brio mess and jealousy and a metric fuckton of angst, but also weaves in some tenderness and humor and a hefty amount of god tier smut
truly this fic has it all
THE WAY I LOVE THIS FIC
look, i am not usually an OC person when it comes to fic, i’m here for what i’m here for, you know? but mar and elena are apparently the exception to that rule
it’s also a testament to how rich and in-depth the delinquents verse is that it can support such a built out, fully realized side-quest style fic for two characters who, while fairly close to the central plot, aren’t remotely the focus of it
also i know this fic is all about mar and elena getting together and do not get me wrong, they are the absolute cutest and everything about their story makes me scream, the part of this fic that really makes my heart go haywire is the mar and rio of it all
idk precisely why but i am ridiculously invested in rio having bffs on ruby and annie’s level and gOD does the relationship with mar megan’s crafted deliver on that like whoa
everything about their relationship from the literal reality of it to the way that rio’s an indelible part of mar’s mental landscape is pitch perfect and so, so precious to me
(and LOOK i KNOW that is not LITERALLY THE YEARBOOK DRAWING i am AWARE it should be a DUGOUT i TRIED MY BEST)
ily babe, i hope you have an amazing day 💖
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hey I was wondering if you had any merthur fic recs? (preferably long)
love the account btw!! 💖
Hello!! Thank you so so much ❤️I've made some lists here before of my favs, and you can also check out my ao3 fav bookmark tag where i save my favs over 10k! I hope you find some new favourites!
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I know you are not an ask blog per se but I already got on the nerves of @wheredidhiseyebrowsgo and @christinesficrecs so many times that I feel bad asking them again. So as I saw you answering a Sterek related question a few days ago, I thought I could try and ask you. But it's totally ok if you don't want to answer this. Could you tell me some good, maybe a bit angsty but also fluff, fics where either Derek or Stiles is a single dad? Or just any good angsty and fluff fics you liked? Pretty please. ♡(ू•‧̫•ू⑅)
... because you asked so nicely and because I can't resist promoting my own kid fic (yeah I am a bit proud haha), here are a few suggestions for you. I hope you like them.
Trust me by madsmeetsmisha Explicit
Summary: Derek Hale needed a nanny for his kids. Someone who knew about werewolves, someone who was persistent enough not to throw in the sponge as soon as the kids wouldn't behave, someone trustworthy. Could a young, very talkative man like Stiles Stilinski be what Derek was looking for?
DILF by twentysomething Explicit
Summary:"Today is Scott's first day of kindergarten and Derek is terrified."
Past, Present, and Future by Code_Zackary Mature
Summary:Deputy Derek Hale has just become a single parent, after adopting abandoned five-year-old Isaac Lahey, and drowning in his new responsibilities as a father, and Alpha. Add the babysitting of his new rookie partner, Jackson Whittemore, and the weight of his past bubbling to the surface, Derek isn't sure how he's going to keep his head straight.Meanwhile, Stiles Stilinksi returns home to Beacon Hills to give his son, Scott Stilinksi, a better quality of life. However, raising a werewolf pup, as a human, is something he struggles handling on a daily basis. Stiles wishes nothing more than to find a werewolf willing to show his son "the ropes", so Scott can fit in with all the other pups come the first day of Kindergarten. But where would he ever find a werewolf willing to help a human?When the two meet, their struggles in life will come to the forefront, as the loners become an invaluable support system for each other, and build a unique Pack all their own.
First Impressions Are Overrated by Leslie_Knope Teen
Summary: In Stiles’ defense, he didn’t deliberately ram his grocery cart into the (evidently precarious) pyramid of oranges.
...and my alltime favourite
Prince Among Wolves by Rawren (Deshonanana) Explicit
Summary:Looking for full day/evening sitter. 2 twin boys age 4. Must have exp. w/werewolves. Must be human. No pedophiles. No teenage girls. Pay negotiable.
Please feel free to add your favourite kid fics. ^^
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In The Dark: a Yard Dogs interlude
Edit by @alastairdean
Written for the sexy and brilliant @lovetheirloves, whose Yard Dogs series re-wired my brain. This is a little interlude, taking place just after In The Dirt. Can be read as a standalone, but why would you want to?
A million thanks to @hotgirlsummersam for helping me make this even more gross and for reassuring me that it's not a complete embarrassment to the original. <3
@spn-trope-round-robin prompts: Remix + UST
@j3bingo square: Biting
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Warnings: Teen Sam Winchester, Feral Sam Winchester, Masturbation, biting kink, marking kink, Scent Kink, Somnophilia Kink, Comeplay, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Sam wants to eat Dean alive
The way Sam wants Dean, it’s— there's no end. No limit to it. He could chew him up completely, swallow him whole, and it still wouldn’t be enough.
Read below or on AO3.
Dust and heat and the taste of sweat and his brother’s hips in his hands.
Teeth sinking into flesh like the sun into the earth.
“Sammy. Sam. What’s happening?”
Sam lies awake in bed for hours, his mind hyperactive and overrun with memories, before he finally gives up any pretence of trying to fall asleep and goes back to staring at his brother. Dean is sleeping fitfully in the twin bed on the other side of the narrow room, close enough that Sam is pretty sure they could touch if they both stretched out their arms, his hands dug in under his pillow, one leg cocked out to the side and his face turned towards Sam. In deference to the thick summer heat, Dean’s sprawled on top of the covers, naked but for a thin pair of boxers and his amulet—Sam’s amulet—the thin leather cord disappearing under his chest.
If you didn’t know Dean as well as Sam knows Dean, you might think he was dead to the world, but the moonlight spilling in through the open window is bright enough that Sam can make out a furrowed brow and parted lips, telltale signs that Dean is having a nightmare, as if the barely audible whimpers Dean’s been making for the past twenty minutes weren’t enough to confirm it.
Sam should go wake Dean up, really. He should. But.
He rakes his eyes over the curve of Dean’s back, skin pale and iridescent in the light, tracing along the dip in his lower back, over the swell of tight ass, out along his thigh, imagining he’s using his hands instead, imagining he can feel that light dusting of golden hairs under his fingertips, imagining that those low breathy whimpers are for him.
Sam should go wake Dean up. But he so rarely gets the chance to indulge like this, and he takes in the sight like a drowning man takes his last breath. It’s a pretty picture in front of him, Sam will readily admit, but what he really wants to see is blocked from view.
That first time, the other day—in his saner moments, Sam would like to chalk it up to happenstance. A fluke triggered by a throwaway line, the sun, the heat, the dirt. Something not to be repeated. But the more he thinks back on it, the more it cycles over and over again in his head, the more it feels like it was an inevitability—
Dad gone, and Dean climbing the walls of the dump they were squatting in in Huntsville, Alabama. Dean never was one for being able to sit still for any given length of time, even in the best of circumstances, and the heat and humidity were getting to him. Dean needed to work off the pissed-off mood he was in, and hell, Sam was bored enough to let him.
So Sam pushed and prodded and poked, riling Dean up until he dragged Sam outside in the dirt to spar—Dad's orders, Dad left instructions—but instead of sparring properly, Sam danced, teasing and laughing, sliding sweat-slick out of Dean's grasp anytime he came close, and the more riled up Dean got, the more delighted Sam became.
And then what happened, what happened, how did it happen, god—taste of sweat-soaked flesh, salt and dirt and Dean—and his brother’s body going slack and pliant in his arms.
It’s the pliancy that really fucks with Sam’s head, the overwhelming pull of it almost terrifying in its intensity, and it’s part of what’s kept him from touching Dean since. Even with Dad, Dean is… obedient, yes, annoyingly obedient, but never without fire, without goads and wisecracks, and— he knows when to shut up, when he’s pushed it too far, but he’ll vibrate in fury instead of— he’s never—
—throat bared, leaning back with his hand on the back of Sam’s head, dazed, encouraging… sounding almost lost when he resurfaced—
Dean never loses himself. Not until the other day.
And Sam had wanted… christ, does he even know? He drags his eyes again over the supine form of his brother, a surge of possessiveness threatening to overtake him as the memories swirl in his head. That all-consuming feeling of MINE as he marked Dean’s neck, chewed it to shreds. Protectiveness—the soothing shhs he’d made when Dean would blearily resurface, the swelling satisfaction when those shhs would send him right back down again. Yielding. Vulnerable. Exposed.
But that first morning—the morning after the night before—Dean had looked at him with so much wariness, as if Sam was a foreign entity, something to be vigilant around, his hand unconsciously touching his throat, avoiding Sam’s gaze as he slunk out of the bedroom without the usual digs and banter, avoiding him for the rest of the day as he went out for a drive to god knows where. And that wasn’t— Sam didn’t want, doesn’t want, Dean’s fear. Dad has Dean’s fear—he has Dean’s unquestioned loyalty and obedience, and he’s only earned it through indoctrinating Dean into that fucked-up military mindset of jump when I say jump and yours is not to question why, combined with violent dressing-downs anytime his expectations weren’t met. Sam doesn’t want to be Dad. What he does want…
—wholly, completely, utterly—
Sam wants to laugh, something manic and insane burbling in his chest. As if the incestuous feelings he’s harboured for his brother since god knows when weren’t bad enough. Incest is one thing. This new thing is—
He’s afraid to parse it.
There’s a dark, foreboding corner of himself that warns him against prodding too hard, but it doesn’t stop his brain from overworking. He’s been thinking about that first time as if there will be a second, a third, an infinite number of future times, and Sam wants—
Sam rolls out of bed, covering the distance to Dean in two strides. Dean is still whimpering softly—are those sounds of pain or pleasure? Sam is desperate to investigate further, wishes he could crawl inside Dean’s head while he sleeps. Looking down at him now, Sam can finally see what he’s been dying to see all night, what he sees every time he closes his eyes: the raised, angry red flesh of Dean’s neck and shoulder. Sam’s marks. God, but he wants—
—belly-up in the dirt, carved open, blood thick and heavy in his mouth, heart beating between his teeth—
Sam shudders, closes his eyes, breathes.
Dean’s taken off the bandages so that his skin can breathe while he sleeps, and the darkness of the room does nothing to hide the damage: the whole of Dean’s left side from jaw to shoulder is a patchwork of bruised flesh, mottled purple hickies, and—‘bite marks’ is too nondescript, too mild a depiction—the truth is that Dean looks as though he’s been mauled, the entire span a subterranean map of craters and volcanoes and the molten network of veins connecting them, and Sam has a sudden impulse to fit his teeth to every single bite and deepen it, work the flesh between his teeth until it yields blood.
Dad’s due back tomorrow, which means the bandages are back on, wounds covered up, but part of Sam—a large part of Sam—wants Dad to see them, wants him to recognise the mark of those incisors as unmistakably his, wants Dad to know that, good-little-soldier schtick aside, Dean belongs to him.
That is the indisputable truth of it, the only truth. Dean is HIS.
Sam drops to his knees, crouches down until his face is level with Dean’s, breathing in the sour smell of stale beer. He closes his eyes, lets their breath mingle as he listens to those barely-there whimpers up close. A hair closer and he could lick out and taste… he won’t, he won’t touch, he promised himself he wouldn’t—not until Dean asks.
—until he begs—
He noses lower, ghosting over heated flesh, so close, so very close, skirting over a shoulder to where the smell is strongest, strong enough that the taste blooms on his tongue and his mouth waters from it—the musky battery-acid tang of male B.O. Of Dean. The hairs of Dean’s underarm tickle Sam’s nose, and— he won’t touch, but hair doesn’t count, right? He licks out, drawing the hair between his lips, suckling down the taste of Dean, and his eyes fall closed as heat surges downwards, his lower belly clenching. If only Dean were naked, on his back, and Sam could burrow deep into where he really wants to be—
Goosebumps prickle all the way down Dean’s side on his exhale, and Sam’s lips curl in satisfaction. The control he has over this body, even when it’s unconscious, god, it sends a shudder straight through him, and he’s desperate to find out how else he can make it react. He wants to lick a wide stripe all the way from hipbone to armpit, chase the goosebumps with his tongue, wants to gnaw on his arm until it’s ravaged, wants to wake Dean with his mouth on him, god, he wants—
Sam shoves a hand down his shorts and squeezes— he's so hard, christ. He wants to paint Dean with his come, wants to keep Dean submerged as he kneads it into his chewed-up flesh, wants Dean to wake sticky and tacky and wondering if he imagined the whole thing.
Sam digs his forehead into the mattress as he works himself furiously, using every ounce of willpower he possesses to keep his mouth off Dean. Without his conscious input, his head rolls to the side, his breath fanning hot and humid over Dean’s torso, so close he can feel it reflected back on him, so close he can almost taste— and is it his imagination or are Dean’s whimpers getting louder, god—
Don't touch, don't touch, don't touch—a litany in his head in time with his strokes—the pressure building and building until he can't—
He wrenches himself away, breathing hard, falling back on his ass and catching himself with one hand before he falls over completely, spilling hot into his other hand as he pants open-mouthed.
Dean, miraculously, is still asleep, his lower lip pulled between his teeth and bitten red.
Sam's hand is dripping with come, and he nearly grabs for a discarded t-shirt on the floor to clean it off before he pauses mid-reach. He stands, trying to get his breathing under control as he brings his dripping hand, shaking, to Dean’s neck. He promised himself he wouldn’t touch. He promised, but—
He lets two wet fingertips brush feather-light over overheated flesh, ignoring the way he wishes it was his tongue instead, nudging the leather strap of his amulet aside to trace over one particular incision, separate enough from the mass that the teeth marks are distinct.
Spit and semen and blood, all mingled. Sam wants to carve his name into the flesh, smear his come into the cuts, lick it back out again.
It’s too much, too— the way he wants Dean, it’s— there's no end. No limit to it. He could chew him up completely, swallow him whole, and it still wouldn’t be enough.
A press of flesh, and Dean inhales sharply in sleep and then lets out a low moan, the sound flooding straight through Sam and sparking every last nerve-ending, any remnants of fear and uncertainty dissipating and transmuting into something… something satisfied. Satisfied and smug and still— so hungry.
Love me, the voice inside him screams. Love me like you hate me. Like you can’t breathe without me.
Love me like I love you.
Dean’s eyes flutter open, and he resurfaces sluggishly as he almost never does—military-trained, Dean is usually disgustingly hypervigilant when he wakes, instantly ready to counter any perceived threat—but now he blinks blearily, his voice groggy with sleep. “Wha— Sammy?”
“Shh. Just a nightmare,” Sam murmurs, trailing his sticky hand over Dean’s savaged shoulder and squeezing lightly. “Go back to sleep.”
Dean sinks back down into sleep, and Sam stands there for an indeterminate amount of time, watching.
Dean's wariness aside, there's no disguising the fact that he feels the same pull Sam does—the way Dean's eyes linger over Sam's bare torso and skitter away, the way his hand hovers over his raw neck when he thinks Sam's not watching—and Sam doesn’t know how long he can keep waiting while Dean plays catchup. He can wait. He can. But not forever.
It’s his last conscious thought before finally falling asleep himself: Just a matter of time before one of us breaks.
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HAIKYUU FIC REC MASTERLIST
Kagehina Fic Recs
Iwaoi Fic Recs
Sakuatsu Fic Recs
Tsukkiyama Fic Recs
Kiyoyachi Fic Recs
Bokuroo Fic Recs
Bokuaka Fic Recs
Atsukage Fic Recs
HinaYachi Fic recs
Tsukkikage Fic Recs
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bestie, recs for mingyu fics please? (any genre is fine) thank you 🥺❤️
u already knowwww
1:15 a.m. by @berrryshortcake
bittersweet by @gyukult
flash by @marigold-doms
honey boy by @chocosvt
impatient by @creamiecoups
jealous roommate by @myunghoehoehoe
just in time by @rainileo
kinks by @odetojeons
mutual masturbation by @blushnote
reliable by @peachycheol
winner by @smileysuh
and ofc my gf’s smau lost in stereo by @hotgirlmingyu
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Good Omens Fic Rec List 12b
Avast, ye swabs, it's more pirate fics! The second in a two-part series. Other recommendation lists can be found on my blog by searching the archives under the tag #fic recs. Enjoy!
1. Age of Sail by @melayneseahawk
Word Count: 743 (one-shot)
Aziraphale has been tasked by Heaven to accompany a small group of migrants to an island, when their ship is attacked by pirates. And who should be leading them but a certain red-haired demon, who makes an offer to let the ship go if Aziraphale agrees to be a hostage. Short and sweet, with hidden feelings bubbling dangerously close to the surface.
2. Sailor's Omens by @nevernooitniet
Word Count: 8,033 (one-shot)
Human AU. Aziraphale is the disgraced younger son of a merchant family, and utterly useless aboard his brother Gabriel's ship, so he spends most of his time reading belowdecks. Then they're attacked by pirates, and Aziraphale is taken prisoner by the enterprising Crowley. Though Crowley's considered by his crewmates to be a rather substandard pirate because he lacks the necessary bloodthirst, he's clever and resourceful, and he and Aziraphale bond, eventually leading to Crowley offering to share his cabin. Also features the bloody-minded Hastur, who is one step away from flinging the both of them overboard, and Gabriel, who turns out to be nastier than any pirate. This one was so cute and funny, I loved it.
3. Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea by @soft-october-night
Word Count: 3,929 (one-shot)
Human AU. Aziraphale and Crowley start out together as boys aboard ship, but time and circumstance, and the grinding hell that is the Royal Navy, lead them on different paths. As a member of the upper crust, Aziraphale is expected to bring honor to the family name, and so he rises through the ranks, dutifully performing his job. Crowley, whose prospects are considerably more limited, takes up piracy. As their paths cross over the years, frequently in opposition, their love for each other only grows, until they're meeting in secret. Aziraphale wonders how much his suffering heart can stand, worrying about getting caught, worried about Crowley getting caught, the risk of disgrace, dismissal, execution. Can their relationship end in anything but tragedy? Beautifully written, full of passion and exquisite details.
4. White Tide by @fourthvvall
Word Count: 12,709 (one-shot)
Aziraphale is kidnapped by pirates and due to be executed. He doesn't dare use a miracle to escape for fear of severe reprimands from Heaven. Fortunately there happens to be a sneaky serpent of his acquaintance on board. Crowley can't simply free him without at least a little teasing, but once they're on deck in the quiet night, Aziraphale finds it almost impossible to leave. At least not without some serious conversation. Great banter and beautifully expressed emotions.
5. bluewater love by vol_ctrl
Word Count: 5,419 (one-shot)
Crowley and Aziraphale are secretly married. They make plans to meet, when their respective duties allow, on deserted islands where they can indulge their love for each other in private, away from the watchful eyes of Heaven and Hell. The latest meeting nearly goes awry, however; Crowley is late, and when he arrives, Aziraphale realizes he's wounded. Much caregiving follows, and, unable to keep their hands off each other and at Crowley's insistence, some sweet lovemaking, too. So passionate that their combined supernatural energies whip up a tropical storm. Loved this one for the depth of feeling, and for the lovemaking-wildly-affecting-their-environment trope, plus I'm a sucker for secret marriages.
6. New Horizons, Old Troubles by @unproblematicme
Word Count: 44,961 (10/10 chapters, complete)
I've recommended this before and I'm quite happy to do so again, for this most excellent Human/Omegaverse AU. Aziraphale is an omega, leading a quiet, peaceful life among friends as an herbalist, when his world is turned upside down. Forced to flee from Gabriel, an alpha who won't take 'no' for an answer, he seeks shelter aboard a ship. A ship that happens to belong to Crowley, an uncompromising pirate captain and also an alpha, on the hunt for a valuable artifact, and who doesn't think omegas are good for much other than a quick tumble. He won't allow them on his ship, so it's a good thing Aziraphale is clever in the use of herbal concoctions to hide his true nature. He gets a job as ship's cook and makes himself even more useful with his knowledge of maps and reading, but being in such close proximity to the dashing captain is heading into dangerous waters. High adventure and growing passions, top marks for an action-packed read!
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It was dark when Oikawa blinked open his eyes, feeling as if a hundred tons of weight had suddenly dropped upon his chest. His head throbbed, sending pounding rhythms of pain reverberating through his skull.
Iwaizumi, he thought.
Instinctively, he twisted his head to the right, ignoring the sharp pain that tore up his neck, trying to see past the twisted metal and broken glass that now separated him from Iwaizumi.
“Iwa-chan?” He croaked out loud.
Oikawa dragged his left arm upwards and pushed it underneath him, trying to shove himself upwards in order to catch a better look. He stopped when the weight on his chest only increased, the sudden change aggravating something in his sternum and sending a ragged cough tearing through his body.
Oikawa’s arm gave out as his head dropped down, the coughs subsiding slowly. Blood pooled in his mouth, and he turned his head to the side, spitting it out. It spattered in dense drops against a large piece of the shattered windshield.
“Iwaizumi,” he called out again, remembering the look of terror that had eclipsed the other man’s face seconds before the trunk had slammed into their car.
Nothing answered him.
The car had completely flipped. Oikawa struggled, left arm pushing uselessly against the large piece of metal that was pinning him flat on the ground. His back scraped against cracked pieces of glass, and he could feel some of the larger shards digging into his flesh as he tried to move the metal off his chest. To his left, the car door seemed to be torn off, and Oikawa shivered as the cool night air brushed against his bruised skin. His right arm was completely unresponsive, lying limply next to him. Pain shot through his legs as he moved them weakly, kicking against the contorted interior of the car, and his sternum was a ball of pure agony.
“Iwa-chan!” He hissed, becoming increasingly desperate. “Answer me!”
The voice came from outside the car, through the opening where the car door had been. A pair of shoes appeared in Oikawa’s view, followed by a set of legs.
Iwaizumi bent down so he could stare into the car, face impassive. “Shittykawa, don’t move.”
Oikawa let his arm drop, instead craning his neck so he could see Iwaizumi’s face better. “You’re okay,” he breathed, acutely aware of how the other man’s skin was pale and unblemished, as if he hadn’t just been driving a car that was hit by a truck. “You got out?”
Iwaizumi paused. “Yea. Yes, Oikawa, I did.”
His head was fuzzy, making Iwaizumi’s words sound distorted and warped. He blinked a couple times, trying to clear the distracting feeling. His eyelids slid shut, too tired to stay open.
“Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi’s tone had changed, sounding desperate and terrified. “Open your damn eyes.”
Oikawa grimaced, forcing them open anyway. The simple task seemed far too tedious.
“That’s it,” Iwaizumi breathed. “Keep them open, okay?”
“Why,” Oikawa grumbled, his breath coming short. “Not like there’s anything to see anyway.”
Iwaizumi’s smile was strained as he knelt closer, a hand coming to hover over Oikawa’s. “What? You don’t want to see me? You’re always boasting about how beautiful your fiancé is.”
He seemed to take a deep breath before letting his hand fall, fingers curling around Oikawa’s.
“You are pretty,” Oikawa rasped. “I’m just tired.”
“I know,” Iwaizumi said. His head dipped up and out of sight before coming back into Oikawa’s view, eyebrows furrowed in obvious fear and frustration. “Where are they?” He murmured softly.
“What?” Oikawa asked, unsure if his exhausted brain had just hallucinated his fiancé saying a full sentence.
Iwaizumi shook his head. “Nothing. Seriously, Oikawa, you can’t go to sleep. Not yet.”
“You say that every morning,” Oikawa mumbled.
“Because you never get up. You sleep until you’re nearly late for work, with your stupid alien pajamas and stupid stuffed toys.” Iwaizumi stopped, huffing out a quiet chuckle.
“I love you so much,” he said, lacing his fingers in between Oikawa’s. Oikawa frowned. Iwaizumi’s touch was feather-light, like soft wind ruffling the leaves in an abandoned cemetery. Were Oikawa’s nerves that messed up?
“Wha’ about- the driver? Truck?” Oikawa asked, gradually becoming aware that his words were making less and less sense. “Is he-?”
“I think he’s dead,” Iwaizumi supplied. “He hit us pretty hard.”
“H’ was on his phone. I, I saw.”
“Trust you to notice something like that in the middle of a crash.”
“I’m ob’er’van,” Oikawa slurred. The pounding in his head had gotten worse, and there was an uncomfortable lump trying to slide its way up his throat. He swallowed, pushing it back down. “One o’ my best' trai’s.”
Iwaizumi hummed distractedly, eyes tracing worried circles over Oikawa’s face. “It sure is,” he said.
Oikawa glowered. “Is ‘verything, okay? You… nev’r agree with me.”
That seemed to give Iwaizumi a pause. “It’s fine, Shittykawa. Trust me.”
“I tr’st you,” Oikawa said, watching the dark spots dance farther across his vision. The pain in his chest and legs had mostly faded away into a dull ache. A sudden thought occurred to him.
“Iwa-chan, ‘m I dy’ing?”
“No,” Iwaizumi said firmly. “Absolutely not. You have to live, Oikawa. Think of your parents, and Makki and Mattsun. Takeru. Kageyama and Hinata would be destroyed too."
“I’d be devastated,” Iwaizumi said, staring down at him.
A lazy smile spread across Oikawa’s face. “Good th’ng I’m not dy’ing th’n.”
He coughed, the lump in his throat finally winning the battle and sliding into his mouth, turning into a pool of blood that dripped from the corners of his mouth. Each cough wracked his body, sending new jars of pain through his chest and legs.
Oikawa’s eyes floated shut again, and he let them, too tired to care. His hearing started to blur out, static drowning out the panicky tones of Iwaizumi’s voice.
He jolted back into existence at the feel of an absolutely freezing hand smacking against his cheek.
“Stay awake,” Iwaizumi growled.
Oikawa groaned. “Wh’y ar’e you so cold?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Iwaizumi retorted hotly. “You can’t sleep yet.”
“M’kay. Not yet. You’re so’ nice t’day, Iwa-chan.”
Iwaizumi opened his mouth to say something, but before he could make a sound, his head snapped upwards. New sounds filled the air - not Oikawa’s ragged breathing or Iwaizumi’s rapid shuffling, but loud, wailing sirens accompanied by harried shouts and flashing lights. Oikawa grimaced. Too loud and too bright.
“They’re here,” Iwaizumi breathed. “You’ll be okay, Shittykawa.” He was grinning, and not the sly ones he saved for when he hassled Oikawa, but a real, genuine one that Oikawa had only seen a dozen times throughout his life.
“Love y’ou,” Oikawa said around a mouthful of blood.
“I love you too,” Iwaizumi replied. He dipped down, pressing a soft kiss to Oikawa’s forehead. “Live a good life for me, alright?”
“F’or you?” Oikawa asked feebly. One of his hands reached upwards, trying to catch the hem of Iwaizumi’s shirt as the man pulled himself to his feet. “W’here y’ou goi’ng?”
“It’ll be okay,” Iwaizumi said. He smiled that genuine smile again. “I love you, Oikawa.”
And then the strange men and women were here, surrounding Oikawa. They yelled at each other, bringing long tubes and strange metal contraptions that wrapped around the gnarled car. But Oikawa only had eyes for Iwaizumi’s retreating form. Then he blinked, and Iwaizumi was gone.
The exhaustion became too much to bear, and the dark spots that had been slowly sliding into his view flared up, enfolding his whole world into black.
“I think he’s waking up,” a familiar voice whispered, strangely subdued.
“I’ll get the doctor,” a second person said. There was the sound of rustling fabric and scraping chairs, and then more silence.
Oikawa groaned, eyelids sliding open. His blurry vision showed a drab ceiling, a dark mass sitting in the center of his line of sight.
He blinked, and the shape sharpened into the face of a man.
“Oikawa?” Hanamaki asked, leaning cautiously over his head. His eyes were red, the areas underneath puffy and maroon colored, as if his friend hadn’t slept properly for days. The corner of his mouth wobbled slightly.
Oikawa struggled upwards, startling when Hanamaki set a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down. “Stay still,” he said, looking insanely worried. “Don’t rip anything out.”
It was then that Oikawa noticed the clear tubes that disappeared into his arms, attached to beeping machines that surrounded the white sheeted-hospital bed. Hospital. He was in the hospital.
Oikawa coughed once. “What happened?”
His voice was raspy, the simple act of talking making his throat hurt.
“It’ll be okay,” Hanamaki said, his tone reminding Oikawa of a very different scene, of Iwaizumi repeating the same words before disappearing into the swarm of paramedics.
Oikawa tore the top of the sheets away from his body with the arm that wasn’t in a cast, forcing Hanamaki to grasp his shoulders in order to press him back to the bed.
“Don’t move,” Hanamaki said again, teeth clenched.
“Iwaizuimi,” Oikawa said, struggling against his friend’s grip. “We- we were in the car - the truck - where’s Iwaizumi?”
Hanamaki wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Matsukawa’s coming back soon, with the doctor, and your parents are in the cafeteria.”
“Makki,” Oikawa hissed, ignoring the dull ache in his muscles as he tried to sit up. “Tell me.”
The door to the hospital room burst open again. A tall, thin woman walked through briskly, dressed in a long white coat, spectacles perched upon the tip of her nose and sleek shiny hair pulled back into a ponytail. Dark circles were ingrained underneath her eyes, clear signs of a shift that had gone on for too long. Matsukawa trailed after, clearly unsure of what he should be doing, gaze darting lightly over the room.
“Oikawa Tooru,” the doctor said, glancing at the clipboard she held in her hand. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” Oikawa replied. “But Iwa-ch-”
“You were brought in for injuries sustained in a car accident,” she interrupted. “Five broken ribs, internal bleeding to your abdomen, a fractured arm and leg, as well as a concussion. Now, Oikawa-san, I hear you’re a volleyball player. You may be able to play again, after extensive physical therapy. The fracture in your legs will heal without incident, but I am concerned that your broken arm will interfere with your ability to play.”
The thought of not being able to play volleyball was like a physical blow to his stomach. This panic, however, was quickly swamped over with a rush of trepidation as the doctor spoke again.
“The man in the car with you passed away.”
Matsukawa lowered himself into one of the chairs next to Oikawa’s bed. His eyes sparkled with unshed tears.
“Iwaizumi’s dead, Oikawa.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” the doctor offered softly. “If it’s any consolation, he died on impact. He felt no pain.”
Oikawa stared blankly at her. “He can’t be dead,” he insisted, voice gaining traction. “I saw him after-he was fine-”
“You were most likely experiencing the effects of blood loss,” the doctor said, gently.
“No!” Oikawa shook his head, adamant. “You don’t understand! I saw him after- he wasn’t hurt at all-he kept telling me to hold on and stay awake-I-”
He choked on the sudden onslaught of tears that rose up his throat, bracing his hands against the bed. “I saw him. Dead people can’t look like that-they can’t talk-they can’t smile-,” he whispered, remembering the grin on Iwaizumi’s face.
The doctor looked at Hanamaki and Matsukawa helplessly. “I’m truly sorry, Oikawa-san. Denial is common for-”
“There’s nothing to deny!” Oikawa snapped, suddenly furious. “There’s nothing to deny, because Iwa-chan can’t be dead-”
Hanamaki slid a comforting hand over the back of Oikawa’s palm, and Oikawa sobbed. “He was there,” he murmured, voice wavering.
“I know,” Matsukawa said, forcing a strained smile onto his face, even as clear tears left tracks down his cheeks. “It’ll be alright, Oikawa. ‘Maki and I are here for you.”
Oikawa met Matsukawa's eyes. They were dewy, the anguish of losing a friend clear to see.
“He told me to live for him.”
Oikawa breathed in, long and deep, filling his lungs with the sweet scent of spring flowers. He stood in the center of the green grass, surrounded on all sides by tall stone pedestals.
He let his fingers loosen, a single white lily drooping from his grasp to land on the top of one of the pedestals. Oikawa knelt slowly, folding his knees under him.
Iwaizumi Hajime, the words engraved in the stone said. 20xx ~ 20xx.
Oikawa cleared his throat. “Hey, Iwa-chan. It’s your birthday today, you know?”
The grave did not respond. Oikawa was silent, listening to the leaves rustling in the wind, accompanied by the chirps of lonesome birds sitting in the newly blossoming trees.
“I talked with your mother this morning. She’s doing well, as is your father.”
Oikawa chuckled, absentmindedly pulling at the cuff of his shirt.
“Hanamaki and Matsukawa finally got married. They’ve been pining after each other since 6th year.”
Oikawa sighed. “I never told anyone this, but I know you were there that night. I don’t know how, if you somehow managed to stay as a- a ghost or something until the paramedics came or if you just refused to die like the stubborn person you were, but I know I didn’t hallucinate you.”
“You were there,” he repeated. “Somehow, you saved me. I never got to thank you for that.”
“I miss you,” he told the headstone. “But don’t worry. I’m still playing volleyball. Japan won the Olympics this year. Chibi-chan and Tobio-kun annoy me everyday. ‘Maki and ‘Matsu invite me over every Sunday for a movie night. I’m doing well.”
He pressed two fingers to his lips, then lowered them until they rested gently against Iwaizumi’s carved name.
“Fear not, Iwa-chan,” he said, smiling as obnoxiously as he could.
“I’ll live for you.”
“‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all”
~Alfred Lord Tennyson
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any recs for spideychelle getting caught in the act?
Spideychelle: Caught in the Act
I've gotten this request before and couldn't find that many fics, so wrote a few of my own--enjoy!
Horizontal Bodies - Peter and MJ get mortifyingly caught by May in the last chapter (art here!)
Incoming Call by @procrastinationpony - Tony calls Peter at an inconvenient time; 'getting caught' is basically Grump's brand ✌️
NSFW Art: Good Time: art inspired by the above fic
Some kind of fever by @awakening5 - Peter & MJ's holiday canoodling gets interrupted
That Time Peter & MJ Got Caught in a Public Restroom - a little post-FFH scene (suck it, Brad!)
so deep by abusedtrademarkemoji: not technically caught, more like unfortunately interrupted?
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Jötunn Loki Fic Recs
so, as Jotunn Loki has been on everyone's minds lately (as he should be) because of ep 7 of What if?, that got me thinking of my favorite Jotunn Loki fics! I was collecting these to reread them, so I figured I might as well share a few of my favorites :)
Loki grows up (mostly) in Jotunheim or as a Jotunn in the first 4 of these.
Two Sons by CloudyDay: A re-telling of the first Thor movie showing both sides of the Asgard/Jötunheimr conflict, that proves you would need more than three days to redeem yourself to a godly father. Or to turn enemies into friends. Loki is banished along with with Thor + excellent worldbuilding and character development.
Distortions in Time by scarescrowslady: Thanks to a horrible twist of Fate, Loki was not discovered by Odin after the final Battle of Utgard. Growing up on Jotunheim, he lived as an outcast due to his small stature - until unfortunate events took him outward to the stars. Familiar lands and peoples play their parts in this different story, this distorted tale. Exactly what it says on the tin. Lots of feels and whump, Loki is a bit of a feral child and lives with wolves, and eventually, a Thor and Avengers AU. This one's a wild ride!
Space Princes of the Galaxy series by felinefelicitations: Two space princes who don't know they are space princes gallivanting around the galaxy. It's not weird or anything. Peter Quill and Jotunn Loki grow up together. Adorably hilarious crack + jotunn headcanons!
The Still Point of the Turning World by que_sera: After an inglorious defeat at the hands of Asgard, Laufey seizes the opportunity for revenge and kidnaps Odin's only son. He does not, expect, however, for his own son to take such a liking to the young Thor - or for one touch of Loki's hands to turn Thor Jotun blue. The two grow together, reigning beloved and terrible in Jotunheim, until one day a delegation from Asgard arrives to tear everything apart. Jotunn Loki + Jotunn Thor.
The Trickster's Tale: Loki anticipated any number of harsh and painful punishments from Odin; instead, he is banished forever to Midgard almost immediately upon his return. Abandoned and alone, Loki sinks from anger to depression as he loses all hope of love and redemption. He never expected the hand that reached out to save him, or that it would be Tony Stark who finally showed the kindness that would begin to heal his broken soul. Loki is banished to Midgard, stuck in his Jotunn form. Lots of whump/angst. Read the tags!
Please feel free to add your favorites as well; I need all the Jotunn Loki I can get!
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bestie what are your comfort fics?
oh man oh man oh man. this is my favorite ask ever. let's go!
fics that are genuinely very comforting and lovely and wonderful:
-love languages by tiamatv
-and you can use my skin and hold onto your voice, hold onto your breath by @danger-and-diatribes
-I'm only honest when it rains by @deansleftshoulder
-in all senses of the word by @surlybobbies
-the face of heaven by @robotmango
-going to california and it tastes like love by @chaoticdean
-fleurs sauvages and the worst of me by @casfallsinlove
-yarrow, lilac, and foxglove by @ahurston
fics that are comforting and lovely and wonderful but will also unpeel you like a banana:
-the beams of our house are cedar, the rafters are pine by @shootingstarcas
-ocean front property by @tragidean
-stitches by askance (doomcountry)
-sewn with silk by @winchester-reload
-autobiography of black by drawlight (snagov)
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'as it should be' by Sienne is a nice time-travel fic (plus it's a crack); post-canon LQR wakes up in the past (before WWX goes to CR for lectures) and realizes that it's way too quiet without WWX around 🤣
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i trust your judgement so much, any agere fic recommendations from other writers? i'm done with all of yours and i need more mcyt age regression content ajdhgads
AHHHH OKAY OKAY I GOT YOU
first of all, go read basically everything by Cypherr, the other 'big' mcyt agere writer in this fandom if you haven't already. His stuff is all really cool and many of his stories directly inspired some of my fics (their 'four's a family' inspired 'the feeling of family', etc etc). Now, I'll go through my bookmarks to find you some oneshots and fics I like
1. Stubborn Baby by Secretblog1212. It's a regressor!ranboo (my favorite, lots of these will be w/him included. and also lots of tommy/sbi stuff.) and cg!tubbo fic. Secretblog1212 is also a really good writer, they used to write Ethan Nestor agere stuff and I was really excited when we started talking, I'd recommend scrolling through everything they have since I love a lot of their fics, including their older Ethan Nestor stuff if you're interested.
2. a well of gentleness by anonymous. there are so many good agere fics (*cough* one hand to keep you warm *cough*) made by people who'd rather not reveal who they are- it's crazy. This is a really vibey SBI fic
3. trust by anonymous. again w/the anonymous authors, I love this cg!techno and little!tommy fic. <3
4. hearth by anonymous. little!tommy who doesn't *know* that he's been regressing until a very gentle cg!wilbur brings it up
5. "my scent is comforting? the hoodie stealing makes sense now." by strawberrymoolk. this is a multi-chaptered fic w/a secret regressor!tubbo (it won't be a secret for long) and eventual cg!ranboo, it's uncompleted.
6. Bad Day Build Up by Secretblog1212. look at my writing friend being talented again, little!ranboo who's had a bad day w/cg!tubbo who has to deal w/it. except he's good at calming him down and its nice <3
7. Discord Calls AU by Sleepy_Kitten, both works in this regressors!bench trio au are adorable and I love it w/all by heart
8. Safe and Innocent by BloopyBunny. secret regressor!tommy and cg!wilbur who's good at making him feel small, need I say more? But also tommy's really brutal on himself and deal with anxiety and trauma so just read the warnings before you read.
9. my silver lining by anonymous. regressor!ranboo tells tubbo about his coping skill
10. Little Boys deserve Big Hugs by awoof_o. I didn't bookmark this one and vaguely remembered one moment from it and had to go on a wild goose chase/fbi-level investigation to find this fic so that I could reread it. That should give you an idea of how good it is. It's secret regressor!tommy and cg!wilbur and also techno and phil come in near the end.
Okay! There's ten fics I liked enough to keep in my bookmarks to go back too, I have school but I may reblog and add on later! For now, enjoy these and let me know what you think. Make sure to comment to support your favorite agere creators! <3
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Hi, beautiful people! I was wondering if you have fics where Louis omega and Harry alpha work in a hospital, like... Both are doctors or something like that, and if those stories are enemies to lovers it would be magnificent!
But if there isn't, please, that somebody take it as a prompt (ू˃̣̣̣̣̣̣︿˂̣̣̣̣̣̣ ू)
We have a medical AU rec list here. The fics where they both are doctors with A/B/O dynamics from that list are:
Something To Prove (9k)
Love Me Until The End (20k)
- BLP 🍑
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hi cami!! based on literally everything because you have good taste I was wondering if u had any fic recs?? I am in like a good fic desert and if u have any good reads would love to read them! thank u!!
Thanks!! I have to be honest that I don't read a lot of dc fics lately bc a lot of what's posted on AO3 doesn't appeal to me tbh. But I do have some favorites that live rent-free in my head. I hope you enjoy!
baby, it's a sign of the times by danishsweethearts
Dick Grayson has a pretty bad day, but hey, he's coping.
let your love grow tall by danishsweethearts
In a move endearingly predictable and highly amusing, Dick Grayson buys a bunch of plants and proceeds to pack bond with all of them.
cold was the night and hard was the ground by danishsweethearts
Laundromats are save points.
i've been longing for silence by danishsweethearts
The Titans are Dick's family. Damian is also Dick's family. Cue the collision.
un haeng il chi by danishsweethearts
un haeng il chi (언행일치) | yán xíng yī zhì (言行一致)
1. word and actions coincide; to live up to one's word
2. to match words with deeds
3. practice what you preach
The Cassandra Wayne guide to truth-telling, manifestation and prosperity.
big d stands for big (demon)or by danishsweethearts
The one where Titans Tower is haunted, and Dick Grayson, Boy Wonder, original Robin, one and only Nightwing, esteemed leader, part-time exorcist, un-haunts it.
young volcanoes by dottie_wan_kenobi
You should join the Justice League, Dick says when he’s ten years old and hopeful.
No, Bruce says.
You should join the Justice League, Dick says when he’s fourteen and realistic.
No, Bruce says.
I’m going to join the Justice League, Dick says when he’s seventeen and furious.
No, Bruce says. No, you are not.
Dick is nineteen now. And he’s not joining the Justice League—he’s joining the Titans.
the last of the real ones by dottie_wan_kenobi
Gar is like a blessing. He doesn’t seem to notice the shiny parts of Vic, not until it really counts—when there’s wires sticking out, something shoved through Vic like it was nothing, when he’s in danger. And even then, he treats them like any other part of the body, like a wound is a wound and it doesn’t matter that it’s not flesh, but technology.
When he asks, Gar tells him about Cliff Steele, and shrugs like it’s nothing. “I’m just used to robot guys, I guess,” he says, flippant like he’s not the first person Vic has met who didn’t recoil at the sight of him.
Vic manages a laugh, his eye—his real eye, his human eye—stinging.
if you just call me by BeatriceEagle
“Dick.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Dick, look at me.”
Slowly, as if he were pushing against a terrible force, he lifted his head.
“I have known you since I was thirteen years old, and I have known you in a dozen other lifetimes, so I need you to believe me when I say that there is nothing you could do that would make me stop loving you.”
Dick held her gaze. He looked like he was searching for something in her eyes, so Donna held still and hoped he found it.
“Did you really know me in other lives?” he asked.
Dick and Donna, after the action, through the years.
once upon a time... by Mayarene Rose (DickRoy)
The announcement is the talk of the kingdom. Men on horses, coming from the capital itself, shout it to every corner of the land to make sure everyone hears.
There will be a three-day festival held in honor of the crown prince’s name day!
So of course, no one can shut up about it and everyone’s making plans to make their way to the capital, one way or another.
Gotham, after all, isn’t known for its decadence. Celebrations from the capital are few and far in between. But, it’s also well known that the king absolutely dotes on his children. The has the makings of being the biggest feast anyone has seen in their lifetime.
“Huh,” Roy says. He’s in a farming village when he hears, about five days ride from the capital if he had a horse, which he does not.
Or the one where Roy is a knight errant, Dick is the crown prince, and there is a three-day celebration.
Dr. Wilson, Will I Ever Play the Violin Again? by HoodEx (DickJoey)
1 Missed Call
1:12 PM TUES 9 MAY
A fond smile spreads over his face. He remembers Dick writing that as his own contact name in Joey's communicator the first time he and Joey exchanged numbers. Joey knows it's an action influenced by paranoia rather than something meant as an inside joke between friends, but he likes to think of it as a mixture of both.
"Who are you mooning over?"
Lissa crosses her arms over her chest and cuts across the room to get closer to him. Joey tries not to instinctually jerk his communicator closer to his chest as she peers down at it with a curious glint in her eye.
"Frank Hardy," Joey spells out with his fingers. "He's a friend of mine."
Her brow furrows. "Frank? Have I met him?"
Joey shakes his head.
"What do you think he was calling for?"
Hopefully not to tell me that the world is on its way to ending, Joey thinks, worrying at his lip.
"Not sure," Joey signs. His thumb hovers over the call-back button. "I guess I'm about to find out."
Red Letter Day by silverwhittlingknife
Dick Grayson, stressed pseudo-parent to a preteen assassin, tries to solve the case of Damian’s Mysterious Wednesday.
He never expected it to help him fix his relationship with Tim, too.
(... Though only after everything fell apart first.)
Eventual fix-it for Dick & Tim’s Red Robin fight, but other rocky relationships - Dick & Jason, Tim & Damian, Damian & Bruce, Dick & Bruce - wow, this family is dysfunctional - might improve too. Eventually. They just have to, y’know, work through All of Their Issues first. XD
Two of Six by silverwhittlingknife
There’s nothing special about this kid, no reason to remember him. But Dick remembers. Because of the photo.
Dick and Tim’s pre-nu52 relationship, from the beginning all the way to the end.
or: how Dick acquired a stalker, attempted to make him go away, and failed so badly that he acquired a brother instead.
(So far: missing scenes from childhood, Lonely Place of Dying, Knightfall, and Knightsend. Current arc: Prodigal.)
In the Palm of Your Hand by lapsedpacifist
Dick was forced into becoming a host for an entity of unknown strength, unknown motive, and unknown reach. The only thing he did know? It needed him alive.
Neurodegenerative series by lapsedpacifist
The general premise: Bruce has completely forgotten about Dick, and Dick only. Now tension is high between them and the rest of the family as they attempt to resolve the memory problem -- while drawing battlelines and realising that Dick had always been much more than a brother to them all.
the primacy of personal conscience by birdsofthesoul
"WHAT MAKES IAGO EVIL? some people ask. I never ask."
— Joan Didion, Play It as It Lays
Or: Dick, his family, and the moral morass of a wishing well.
This is all I could think of at the moment! I'll add more once I read the ones I encountered while I made this list. Enjoy!!
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Bug‘s fic recs pt. 1
I’ve been reading and re-reading so many amazing fics recently and I’ve been wanting to make a rec list for ages so here I finally go!
Remember to always mind the ratings and tags before reading!
Since there are so many different ones I want to rec, I‘m gonna do it by trope/category so first off, have my favorite
post-canon fix-it fics (with Deancas living in a farmhouse):
Fics where they get together:
until the end and after
rating: explicit, words: 28k
The writing is so vivid and beautiful, I felt like I was in that house. They‘re so in love but so dumb until they finally aren‘t dumb anymore <3. just thinking about it makes me 🥺
where the weeds take root
rating: explicit, words: 30k
This is one of my all time favorites. I don’t even have many words to describe this, it’s just so dear to me. Like, this changed me. And the artwork for it is beautiful as well, i‘m just entirely in love with it.
take the bones, begin anew
rating: mature, 103k
I just recently got around to reading this and I flew through it. The characterization is on point, the angst is <3, they’re idiots but they’re SO in love. SO in love. Ughhhh!!!! Jack lives with them, too and it’s cute, painful and incredibly sweet.
Fics with an established relationship:
killing time and
rating: mature, words: 11k
the carrier bag theory
rating: teen and up, words: 6k
Both BEAUTIFULLY written. I fell so deeply in love with them, though as always, but here especially, do mind the tags!
Like I said, I‘m just starting with these, but if you want to keep up with them you can follow the tag #bug fic recs, there’s a lot more coming for sure! And if you read any of them feel free to come talk to me about it! <3
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