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#i want to write a fic for them so bad but it would have to be so long to be as good as it is in my head ouygfhhhhhhhh
l4zyb0n35 · 12 hours
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THE BREAKING POINT
SMUT FIC
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PAIRING: Alastor x F!Reader
SUMMARY: Y/N is a diligent worker, much to the chagrin of her partner, Alastor. Despite his efforts to get her to stop for both their sakes, Y/N remains steadfast in her duties. However, Alastor finds a loophole to this situation.
WARNINGS: Really really great awesome writing skills, Established romantic relationship, (can be seen as dating, fiancé, or married), AFAB reader, usage of Y/N, Sexual content (obv), Mature themes, Mature language, Nudity, Breastfeeding, Unprotected sex, MINORS DNI FOR UR OWN SAFTEY, Alastor manipulates her but only to get her to stop cleaning the hardwood floor, Alastor kinda controls her but not too much. Let me know if i missed anything :3
NOTICE: please don't copy or steal or translate any of my work or you will be haunted in your dreams and i will spawn something unpleasant at your porch the next day. But...thanks for liking my work !! >.<
WORDS: 2.4k
Requests are open, support is highly appreciated!
〰ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ..。.:*・゚♫₊ ♪ *♬‧₊enjoy!~
You were a very hardworking woman around the hotel, to say the least.
Your excuse? “Well, Charlie is just dealing with so much, what’s my help going to harm but not… help?”
Ever since your dear partner, Alastor, invited you to live with him in his hotel room at the Hazbin Hotel, just to be closer as a couple,
You would not stop fucking working.
It’s driving him mad.
He has recently tried everything to get you to relax, to take it easy for once, but you were too stubborn for that. He couldn’t even believe how much work you did for such a small pay. It was honestly ridiculous since you weren’t even a maid, if that was what you were thinking.
So what if you were a bit of a clean freak, it wasn’t any reason to clean the entire damn hotel every day, including the outside, may we add.
You wouldn’t listen to his advice though, no matter how many times he told you to stop.
“Y/N, I swear if you keep cleaning the hotel I’m gonna…do something very bad,” he threatened one day while you were scrubbing down the lobby.
You chuckled, ignoring his threat.
“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart, m’ not gonna lose a limb.” you said with a smile.
Alastor sighed, watching as you continued to scrub the floors.
“You’re just being stubborn, Y/N,” he mumbled under his breath.
‘My last resort, I suppose.’ he concluded in his thoughts, looking around to make sure nobody would hear them.
After making sure that they were alone at the scene, he walked back over to you, trying to fix his composure.
“…When will you come back to bed with me, dear? It’s been cold without you.” Alastor said, kneeling down to her level as he put on his fake facade.
You paused for a moment and turned to him, “Aw, Al, you miss my spot being filled in the bed?” You said, rubbing his shoulder.
He nodded, “It’s never the same without you, I’m afraid.” He tried to soften his smile.
“…You’re not just saying that, right?” You said, losing your smile and pausing your hand.
“What? No-no. I would never lie to you dear.” He said, defending himself.
“…When do you want me in bed, hm?” You said, picking up your supplies and ignoring your suspicions, “I need to shower, after all.” You added.
Alastor stood up, “Now?” He asked, trying to sound hopeful.
“Mm, sure.” You nodded, walking off with your bucket of cleaning supplies.
He silently celebrated his victory.
* * *
Alastor’s ears perked up as he heard the shower turn off.
He was currently laying in bed with only a robe on and some boxers, staring off into the bayou and he brainstormed what he could do to get you to stop working.
He decided a couple minutes ago that his only option left were to ‘have intercourse’.
It was quite smart, actually. All he had to do was take your ability to walk.
So he waited as your blow dried your hair, trying to ignore his unpleasant boner from beneath the cloth of his boxers.
He waited even more when you picked which robe to wear to bed,
which, as you stepped out the steamy chamber, was a red silk robe with Alastor’s initials on it, your favorite.
He had a smug look on his face, seeing you step out in his clothing.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were waiting for me.” You said, seeing Alastor sitting up in bed.
He smiled at you, “No worries, dear,” he said, standing up and putting his hands on your hips.
“I was just waiting for you to come to bed.” He said, bringing his lips close to yours.
You laughed softly, pulling back after a moment, “What’s the occasion, dear?” You rested your forehead on his, closing your eyes.
“Hmm?” He asked, confused.
“Why are you acting so lovey-dovey with me? Is it Valentine’s Day already?” You laughed again, resting your head against his chest.
“Oh, don’t act so surprised, darling.” He said, leaning forward and kissing your temple.
“But, really, what’s the occasion?” You asked, moving back to give him space.
“Well…” He said, thinking quickly, “I figured you deserved a break after all of that hard work you put in recently.” He said, smiling again.
“Oh, your so sweet, Al.” You commented, caressing his cheek.
He leaned into your touch, “Yes…so i decided, what better to do so than taking your ability to walk for the next morning?” He sighed sweetly.
You paused, “…forget about Valentine’s day, did rut season come early?” You said, raising an eyebrow.
Alastor grinned, “It’ll definitely feel like it.” He said, grabbing your waist and laid you flat on the bed.
He moved down to your neck, kissing and suckling on it.
“Alastor…” You laughed out softly, more in a mumble.
“…Sshh, just let me do my thing, okay?” He whispered in your ear, continuing into your neck until he was sure to leave a mark, latching off of it with a ‘pop’.
He then made his way down, stopping at your breasts, cupping them in his hands and giving each nipple a gentle tug before resting his lips onto one of them.
He sucked and nibbled on it, moving to the other breast and doing the same.
He stopped, hearing you moan quietly under him, “Are you enjoying yourself?” He asked, looking up at your face.
“Oh, yes,” you gasped out, feeling your legs go weak as you lay there, “Keep going.” You added, running your fingers through his hair.
Alastor smiled, continuing to kiss your breasts until he felt you get wetter and wetter.
He sat up, sliding your robe off of you and throwing it somewhere across the room, leaving you in just your panties.
His eyes widened a bit at the sight of your body, “How did i end up with a sinner so beautiful.” He said, resting his head on your stomach, giving the fat of your hip a squeeze.
He ran his hands up and down your thighs, stopping at your panties and pulled them off of you, tossing them aside.
He then spread your legs apart and started to rub your clit gently with his thumb.
You let out a soft moan as you let out a jolt throughout your body from the contact, “F-fuck…” You breathed.
Alastor smiled and brought his free hand to your mouth, “Lick.” He commanded, placing his index finger on your tongue.
You obeyed, tasting your juices on his fingers.
He swiftly pulled the claw out your mouth, then slowly slipping two of them into your gummy walls.
You moaned out again as he curled his fingers inside you, thrusting them in and out of your hole.
He pulled his fingers out of you, sucking them clean as he moved your body to the center of the bed, sitting on his knees atop of you.
“Now,” he grabbed your left left, throwing it stop his shoulder, “You know the safe word, dear?” He said, grabbing ahold of his member and teasing your entrance with it.
You nodded, moving your hips for some more friction.
“Needy, I see…” You pulled his cock farther from her, “I need words, dear.”
“Y-yes, Alastor…” You struggled out.
He started to fist his member slowly, “Wouldn’t want to hurt my prized possession.”
After a moment, he pulled his hand away to put another leg up on his shoulder, scooting in and rubbing his duck along your slick folds.
“O-oh….” You breathed out as his meat hit your nub, “P-Put it in, Al…” You mumbled.
“Hm, what was that?” He stoped his member, resting it upon your nub as a tease.
You bit your lip, grinding against his dick, desperate for him to put it in.
He chuckled, pulling it back, making you stop.
You let out a whimper.
Alastor looked at you with a lustful look, his smile widening. “I need you to beg for it, dear.” He claimed, enjoying the moment.
You blushed, looking away for a moment.
Alastor tilted his head, grabbing his member again and started fisting it slowly.
You gulped, looking back at him, still not meeting his gaze, and whispered something incoherent.
He grasped your chin, turning it so you would look at him. “What’s wrong dear? losing interest in my so suddenly?” He said, making you shake your head, “Hm…then beg for it.”
"Please, Alastor, put yourself inside of me, fill me up, fuck me, please!” You begged, moving your hips for a feeling.
He stopped your hips, growling as he pushed himself inside of you without any warning, making you moan loudly.
“F-fuck…” you cursed from the sudden movement, trying to squirm away automatically.
Alastor noticed this, pausing his movement as he grabbed your arms, then your hips and waist, getting you to stop, “What’s wrong dear?”
You looked at him, “…k-kiss me?”
He smiled softly, “Anything for my doe.” he said, leaning down and kissing you directly on the mouth.
Although, as he leaned down, his dick moved further inside you, causing you to let out a jolt once again.
He caressed your hair, “It’s already in, dear,” he mumbled lovingly on your lips, “you’ve done your work, now just relax. I’ll do everything else.”
Waiting until you nodded, he pulled away and slowly began to pull out, before thrusting in swiftly, but gently.
You whimpered softly, gripping the sheets under you.
He pulled out and pushed in again, slowly building a rhythm.
He began to thrust faster, more cruel, “Oh, Alastor…” you moaned out, holding your hands around his neck.
Wet skin slapping together filled the room’s noises, alongside the crickets in the bayou, making you blush from the awkward noises.
Alastor noticed this, beginning to buff out his breaths and growls, and silently sent over his shadow to turn on the radio to a quiet, intimate jazz station.
“Hah…Alastor…” You breathed out as he shushed you, thrusting faster.
His cock rubbed against your walls, hitting all the right spots.
After a while, Alastor started to feel a familiar coil in his abdomen, grunting as he forced his hips to go at an ungodly pace, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.
“Gonna fuck you so good, darling…” He huffed, “Fill you up…you won’t be leaving this bed, understand?” Making you look at him directly and he moved your head with a tendril.
“Y-yes, Alastor…” You mumbled, trying to hold eye contact.
“Good girl…” He awarded verbally, growing another tendril into sight as he moved it down to run your clit, getting a high pitched moan out of you.
“F-faster, Al…I feel it…” You tightened your legs on him, tensing up.
As your tits bounced up and down from the thrusts, you couldn’t help but have to cover them because of the breeze from the bayou-
“No,” he immediately said, lifting one of his hands from clawing at the sheets and placing your hands around his neck, immediately diving down to suckle on your breasts.
“O-oh, yes!” You cried out, feeling his tongue circle around your nubs as he switched between the two.
You groaned as you felt the familiar coil in your abdomen grow after a couple thrusts, “I’m g-gonna cum soon, Al…” You scratched at his back in pleasure, trying to chase at your orgasm.
That’s when he didn’t switch to another breast, but kept sucking on one of them, rubbing and squeezing the other with his hand, making you wonder what he was doing,
Until you felt some milk come out of them.
“Ah-Ah! Alastor! I’m close!” You said, your legs shaking violently as you felt the intensity of him suck and squeeze milk out of you.
He growled, fastening his pace even more, making them even more tougher and he enter and exited your womb space, “Come for me, darling, let me hear you sing for me…”
His dirty talk only got you closer and closer to your edge, until,
You threw your head back into the mattress, arching your back as you let out a blissful cry of pleasure, clenching around him as you rode your orgasm, struggling to even keep your eyes open.
Alastor let out a beastly growl as his form quickly morphed to a more intimidating one as he shoved he cock into you one last time, releasing his seed inside you.
His cum leaked out of you as he slowly pulled out, quickly stuffing his fingers inside your hole so the cum would stay.
“What a good little for you are to me…” He said, admiring the mess you both made on the bed, and then just you laying there.
Noticing how you were still breathing heavily, not moving your body unless a little twitch, he leaned down to whisper softly, “How about some cold water, dear? Think this’ll help you relax?” He asked dotingly, making you nod instantly.
That made him chuckle, moving over to the edge of the bed as he stood up, going over to the nightstand and placing a water pitcher there from the shadows, and walking over the the bathroom for a towel.
***
As he came back from the bathroom with a hot rag in the hand, he noticed how you were half asleep, yet still conscious, which made him laugh softly as he place the rag down by the pitcher, crawling over to you.
“Mon Cher, you’re all fucked out by yours truly.” He smiled softly, fetching the rag from the nightstand with his shadow as he began to wipe your cunt clean.
When he was done, he then took notice of your breasts, how there were some stray milk on them.
Shrugging and tossing the rag aside, he leaned down and softly licked the milk off your chest.
You giggled softly in your daze, “Alastor…” You rubbed your eyes.
When he finished up, he filled a glass of water from the pitcher and turned back to you, sitting you up gently as he tipped the glass of water to your lips.
“Think you’ll be walking tomorrow?” He wondered aloud.
“Hm…will you stay with me here if i don’t?” You asked as you finished your glass.
He placed the cup down, “Of course dear,” he promised, crawling under the sheets beside you, sending his shadow to turn off the lights in the room as he cuddled close to your fragile state,
“Sleep well, dear.”
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END NOTES: I LEARNED HOW TO SPELL AWKWARD FROM WRITING THIS LETS FUCKING GO!!!! All jokes aside, (not really, now clap), i hope this fic actually turns out well because i spent 5 minutes trying to copy and paste this into a word counter and then 2 more minutes pasting this fic here because my phone sucks and it’s broken and i hate it and abuse it but like…i just hope it does well. I (hypothetically) put blood sweat and TEARS into this fic and idgaf what you think because it’s amazing for a first fic on this blog. Notes and comments, maybe even reblogs *wink wink* and also REQUESTS!!! Requests are my best friend, and always open unless I’m on vacation (which i’ll always announce). I love you guys ^^ !!
-Lynn Lazybones
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shayyprasad · 3 days
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cool | peter parker
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a/n: this concept was so sweet to me, and i had to write something for it. okay, so yeah, this is technically irondad + spiderson... but i wanted to add to it.
repost because this fic flopped with, like, 10 notes. if you look at the og, it says 700ish because of the prev notes of what i reblogged. interact with this fic, it's what keeps me going!
summary: you find that a brown haired boy is always at the restraunt you work at, covered with cuts and bruises. you're curious, so what do you do?
warnings: cursing, minor angst (not really tho, mostly fluff)
pairing: fem!reader x post-nwh!peter parker
word count: 1.5k+ words
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you're working late, you don't normally. it doesn't hurt though, having a side hustle outside of college. with shit parents, community college is really all you have as an option, so extra money is welcomed.
it's 20 minutes until closing time, and you're the only one left. you've read enough articles and watched enough true crime to be at least a little paranoid. not expecting anyone else, you spray a table, wiping it down with a rag. might as well get started with cleaning, right?
so when you hear the familiar chime of the door, you've got the right to be suprised. looking up, you're greeted by the sight of a boy. he's got soft brown curls, and (you find, once you meet his gaze) matching dark, hazel eyes.
you wave at him and move behind the register. he looks harmless, but don't most men that have bad intentions? not that you think he's going to do anything.
you're just a woman. it's the way of life, this thought spiral.
"hi, what can i get you?" when he's closer, you can see the cut he's got on his cheek. it's dried blood, but still enough to make your eyebrows shoot up. in fact, he's got a bruise too.
under his left eye, and by the yellow-green, you can tell it's fresh. it's not your business to ask, well, it is... but you're only asking about his order. he runs a hand through his hair, obviously trying to tame it.
there's a leaf at the top, tangled in there. you want to take it out.
he sniffs, eying the menu. you've never seen him here before, and you've been working here for a while. now that you're looking at him, his eye looks swollen - like someone socked him. "a- a cheese-"
you're not sure where the sudden courage comes from, but you cut him off; "do you want an ice pack? or, uh, maybe frozen peas?"
he looks startled for a second, as if he were just now knocked out og this long train of thought. he pauses to touch his eye, "um," you can tell he doesn't want to trouble you, but you're intrigued now.
"seriously, it's no problem." (on the account you have frozen peas, then it would be no problem. if you didn't... a pack of cold, raw meat-?)
"sure, yeah."
"cool. er- stay right there." you go to the freezer room, rummaging around for frozen peas. it takes you a minute, and you're afraid there are none for a moment, but there are. triumphantly, you bring them back out.
he's standing in the same place, although you're not sure why he would've left. "peas!" you sing-song. handing them to him, you smile.
he throws one back, though it's forced and kind of hollow. you're afraid you've made him uncomfortable, or that you're too much. are you too much?
he squints at your nametag, "thanks, uh, gertrude?"
you're confused for a second, "oh, she's dead."
"i- sorry?" he tilts his head, now he's confused too.
"no, i mean, this isn't my nametag. it's old. like, super old. manager's dead wife. this place is too cheap to get new ones, so we, like, basically catfish people."
he nods, "okay. what's is it then?"
"huh?"
"your name."
you mentally smack your forehead, of course that's what he was asking. "y/n."
"cool. i'm peter. peter parker."
"nice to meet you peter peter parker," it's your attempt at a joke, paired with a lopsided grin. it makes peter smile though, so you consider it a win.
peter presses the pack to his eye, a wince turning into a sigh. oddly enough, it sounds sexual to you, and your face is heating up. what's wrong with you? seriously?
"okay, well, um, i assume you still wanna order something?"
"yeah. maybe just a cheeseburger and fries?"
"you got it," it's closing time, but you don't mind. peter is cute, and he seems nice as well. you're more than happy to stay around longer. "on the house," you say when he tries to offer you money, "seems like you had a rough night."
"no, i-"
"no sweat, parker."
you ring up his order, get it ready, and by the time you're done, he's settled at a table. "here you go. enjoy!"
you go back to sweeping, but you want to talk to him more. "you live around here? i haven't seen you here before."
"uh... not exactly. i don't come here often. i, um," he presses his lips together, "had a friend that brought me here. once or twice."
you frown, "oh, i'm sorry."
"what?" peter looks up from his meal.
"i just- well, you used past tense so i assumed you don't... aren't in touch anymore?" maybe small talk was a bad idea.
"oh. yeah. i guess. he's not really... around. he passed a little while back."
it's like your heart physically aches. "that's sad to hear."
"yeah. 's okay though, getting by fine. or- or better."
"mhm. it gets better. lost my sister a few a years back."
"really? i'm sorry." they're empty words, you've probably heard them a lot, he knows that. you know he knows that.
"thanks."
"yeah," it's quiet for a little while longer.
"so, uh," he pauses, taking a sip of his water, "are you still in school?"
"college," you pause, slightly embarrassed, "community, i mean."
"oh. cool. i'm at midtown. it's not, like, super fancy or whatever..."
you cut him off, shrugging, "better than community. and isn't it like so stupid, how they basically tell you that college is a must, and then have you pay all this money? 'oh, you need it for a good future!'" you mock, "aw, really? then make it free!"
you freeze, realizing you've gone on a tangent. "sorry," you say, flushing.
"no, it's okay," he laughs. "it's cool you're... passionate."
"thanks," you put the broom away. "um, i have to go take out the trash. would you mind... not stealing anything?"
"i'll try," he jokes.
"cool. i believe in your ability of self-restraint."
"cool," he says, matching your tone.
"cool."
"cool."
"okay, that got weird after the, like, second time," you make a face.
"no, yeah, i agree."
"cool," you say, staring at each other in dead silence, before bursting into laughter. you hold up the trashbag, "yeah, so, one sec."
you push open the back door, tossing the bag in the dumpster.
he's so nice, you think. look at you, falling for a basically stranger. you walk back in, closing the door behind you. you notice he's done, so you throw out his things, cleaning down the table.
"hey, uh, when do you close?" peter asks.
you check the clock, "mm... 15 minutes ago."
"holy shit, really?"
"yeah. it's cool though. i was closing anyway, and the company didn't hurt. also... it looked like you needed this."
he looks down at his shoes, smiling, "yeah, no, i did. thanks. and sorry."
"like i said, it's cool."
"cool," you stop, "are you in a cult?" you blurt.
"um, sorry?"
"sorry, like, i just, you look... beat up. and i was wondering if you were in a gang... or something." you squint at the dried blood on his knuckles.
"uh... i am not."
"then how'd you get those?"
he looks conflicted, and you've probably crossed a line. "oh my god, i'm so sorry. obviously, it's not my business. i was just... curious."
you wipe down your last table, cursing yourself internally.
"no, it's cool. i'm..."
"seriously, it's not my business. don't tell me, actually. plausible deniability," you joke.
he says something, and it's so quiet, you don't hear it. "what?" you ask.
"i'm spider-man!"
"uh. what?"
"you don't know spider-man?"
"no, of course i know spider-man!"
"well, yeah. that's me. suprise." he says, doing a small show of jazz-hands.
"there's legit no way. i know i catfished you earlier, but that was on accident!"
he tilts his head, as if he's weighing his options. in reponse, you narrow your eyes at him, trying to figure out if it's one big joke. after that, it's so quick, you barely notice. something hits your hip, not harshly, and then you're spinning towards peter.
"holy-!" you look down at your side, trying to figure out what it is. you're tucked into peter, and you realize it's... a web. "no. way."
"yes way."
"why'd you tell me? now i can't plausibly deny anything! also, isn't this supposed to be a secret? isn't that the point of the mask? how do you know i won't sell you out?"
"that was a lot."
"i know. but it was very valid."
"i don't know. i just wanted to. you're nice and sweet and pretty-"
"oh, so pretty privilege?"
"no! no, of course not!"
"well, um," you wrap your arms around his neck, "thank you for trusting me. i won't tell anyone."
"cool."
"cool."
his hands are on your hips, and he's leaning in, but you pull away, smirking.
"no kissing until the second date, i'm afraid."
"we're going on dates?"
"if you don't want me to broadcast to the world, yes."
"well, i would've asked to take you anyways."
you smile at him, enjoying the moment.
"wait, are those cameras?" there's absolute panic in his voice, and you giggle.
"those are fake. it's cardboard to scare people off."
"oh. cool."
"cool."
you end up kissing him anyways.
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@whatsupstark@ell0ra-br3kk3r@idli-dosa@susvale@kdbsr-h@littlemsbumblebee @sflame15-blog @twinsunkithies @chocolateshepherddreamclod @one-piece-frvr7
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shaunashipman · 1 day
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The Buddie side of fandom is something else these days, that's for sure. I'm about to come out of fic writing retirement just to add to BuckTommy out of spite.
ooof.
look, I am not new to the 911 fandom, I was in it for years, and it's actually the reason I made a new account a year ago after that garbage fire of a season, I wanted a full fresh start without any of that on my blog
if it had stayed on fox and/or KR had stayed in charge, I would not have touched the new season with a 100ft electric pole. but tim was back, things were looking good so I decided to dip my toe back in
obviously a mistake. if I thought the rancid "long-form storytelling" side of the fandom was bad, this is just insane. wanting a newly bisexual character to immediately cheat? wanting a gay character to get killed off so your otp can get together? repeatedly commenting "umm I think you mean buddie" on official insta posts and willfully misunderstanding Oliver's joking comment?
(I'm not even getting into the disgustingness aimed at Lou or regarding the whole "kid" comment)
no wonder these people block everyone who slightly disagrees with their vision, if they stepped one inch outside their echo chamber they'd be bowled over with the sheer common-sense that they're lacking
and i keep seeing the same, I wanna say "defense"? for their behaviour, that buddie is something they've "been waiting 6 years for" except no. they've been WANTING it for 6 years. and like a child they think if they want it hard enough then they'll get it
sorry nonny, this got long 😬 but my new year's mid-year resolution is to stop censoring my own opinions in fandom for fear of rocking the boat. yes, pls come out of writing retirement to add the growing plethora of bucktommy fics 🙏. I think I've literally read every single one that didn't have a squick of mine in it (except the ones that are buddie fics in disguise 😒) and I can't wait to read more. let's get it to 2000 before the next ep, really make them seethe
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navstuffs · 1 day
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hi!! i really love your writing and i would love if you could feed me with a request (only if you're comfortable with it, ofc) 👉🏼👈🏼 what about a leon x reader where reader is passing through a very tough depressive crisis and is really not fine mentally speaking — and leon just try to help and comfort them through this? 👉🏼👈🏼
anyway, thank you for your fics, they really helped me these days 😭💗
Anchor
Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GNPartner!Reader
Summary: It is 1 am when Leon Kennedy knocks on your door. He shouldn't be there and you shouldn't have opened it. 
Warning tags: hurt/comfort, angst, leon almost died, reader is suffering with anxiety due to past events, can be read as platonic or romantic (you choose)
Writer's Notes: hello! first of all, im sorry i took so long to write this request for you. i changed some stuff and i hope you don't mind (reader is still depressed). thank you so much your kind words and i hope this fic serves as comfort for you!! <333 stay safe anon!
for more painful leon's fics, check my masterlist. i have some happy ones too :)
It is 1 am when Leon Kennedy knocks on your door. It is the third time that week only, the fifth of the month. 
It starts when you don’t appear at work after two weeks since his return, and no one knows where you are. HR informs you are sick, which means you are still alive somewhere in the world, just sick. Okay, but sick with what? Sick how? Are you in the hospital? Do you need any help? Leon knows you don’t have family around, like him, and you are pretty much alone - like him. 
So, as any regular worried friend would, he calls and texts. He wants to hear your voice and guarantee that you don’t need help and have everything you need. That you truly are okay. No answer. HR has guaranteed him you are not dead, but what if you—no, he shouldn’t think about that.
The next step is going to your house. He knows where your address is and wouldn’t be a complete weird appearing there in the afternoon. No answer. Leon won’t be a creep as far as looking at your windows, at least not yet. He won’t go as far as busting your door and checking how you are feeling because he needs to confirm you are okay. You might just not be home.
On the second visit, Leon got awfully close to kicking your door. Before he could do that or even knock, he saw a shadow pass over the window. Though Leon told himself he wouldn’t, he looked inside just in time to see you disappear to the second floor. So, at least you are really alive, Leon’s body filling with relief. It could have been a bad case of flu, and you don’t want to contaminate anyone.
One more week passes, and he visits your house two more times. Those times you didn’t even bother to hide yourself, lazily lying down on the sofa in a way Leon couldn’t see your face (oh yeah, now he is definitely peeking out your windows). So you are genuinely ignoring him or truly sick with some contagious disease. Maybe Covid?
The fifth time he knocks on your door, it is 1 am and Leon is deeply not only worried but bitter. He was sitting in his apartment alone, wondering what you had and why you didn’t open the door for him. You two are colleagues, and Leon would dare to go as far as to call you his friend if anyone asked. How many times have you brought him soup while he was sick? Brought him meds, kept him company? Checked on him until he was finally all better?
It would be only fair if he did the same.
Leon grabs his keys without even thinking: You will open the door for him tonight. And if you don’t, well, he will kick it open. To hell with the civil approach.
-x-
All the courage slips away from his body when he notices the kitchen’s light on. Leon can’t see anything inside since you decided to make his life harder and close the curtains. So, instead of kicking that door until it’s down, Leon goes back to the gentle approach (like the idiot he is): he knocks.
The door opens not even ten seconds later, and Leon blinks, surprised. You are there. You, not a trick of his eyes: a fluffy and long blanket covering your body, only your face peeking with a familiar expression Leon recognizes immediately - he had seen in his own mirror before.
“You won. What the fuck do you want?” Those are the first words to him in weeks.
“May I come in?” 
You ponder for a moment, your eyes red, and Leon wonders when you last slept. You walk away, leaving the door open, and Leon follows inside, locking the door behind him. 
Your house isn’t in the best state. He had been here before and thought you weren’t the most organized person (“I can find myself in my own mess, Leon.”). The mess had grown too much from normal. There were tons of take-out boxes on the kitchen counter, pizza boxes, and fast food bags. At least you had been eating—not the best food ever, but feeding. He could work with that.
And the bottles—oh, those Leon would identify anywhere. You weren’t a heavy drinker, and you mentioned plenty of times you didn’t know how he liked whiskey. Now, there were countless empty bottles of whiskey, beer, and vodka, so much so that the place looked like a bunch of frat boys had a party just the night before and didn’t bother to clean.
Leon follows you to the living room as you fall onto the couch. An old Simpsons episode plays on the TV screen. There are still some bags and bottles on the floor, but fewer. Your eyes focus on the TV, not really watching or paying attention to him.  Leon stands there, keeping a safe distance from you and gathering what to say. 
“I came to check on you.” Leon starts, his eyes glued on you. “You haven’t called or texted me back. The HR said-”
“I am sick. I wanted to be left alone.”
“I know, but-”
“I could complain about this to HR, you know? It could be considered an invasion of privacy, and you could lose your job. “
“I was worried about you.”
“You saw me in the window that day, didn’t you? I’m alive and breathing. Now get out.”
You hide your face in the sofa, conversation clearly done on your side. It feels like an impossible battle to win. Leon then tries again, “Do you need anything?” 
“No. Get out.”
He sighs, turning on his heels. Leon wants to say you can call if you need him, any time, but Leon knows you wouldn't. This is an impossible battle to win, Leon realizes as he starts to leave. But then he freezes, a memory piercing his thoughts. Leon comes back to the living room, your face still hidden.
“No.”
“What?” 
“I am not leaving. Not before I know what is wrong.”
“I am sick.”
“Yes. So I have heard.” 
You don’t turn to look at him, and that’s fine. If you want to be stubborn, so could he. Leon can wait. The episode on the TV finally ends, and as the familiar opening plays in the background, you slowly turn in his direction, one eye appearing first, then the other, as if expecting Leon would be gone by now. Unlucky for you, Leon S. Kennedy didn’t give up that easily, especially for his friends.
“I don’t know what you are feeling, but I know that face.” His voice manages to sound neutral.
Of course, he does. Of course, your partner, the legendary D.S.O veteran, would know. You, just a newbie, would have no idea what he went through, but Leon didn’t seem the kind of person to crumble for anything. Leon would probably be fine if you were the one to get shot, not him. He wouldn’t have panicked, he wouldn’t have started crying, screaming for someone to help them, losing themselves in a sea of despair and pain.
“Hey…”
Blood. So much blood in your hands. You are useless, you can’t help him as Leon’s face loses color-
“Hey.”
He deserved someone better—someone much better as a partner—not you, a weak agent who thought you were strong enough to stand by his side. Oh, how wrong you were.
Leon calls your name, more urgent this time, and your line of sight is filled with the face of the man you considered your friend right at your path—concerned blue eyes, his hair tickling against your face. His forehead is in concentration, the faint ghost of a beard, as he speaks soothingly. “Hey, look at me. You are safe. Deep breaths, come on.” 
The visions mix as you blink: Leon losing blood in your arms, unconscious, back to being safe, his worried eyes staring at you.
Your rapid breathing noise fills the room, your heart wanting to burst as the pain spreads over your body, the pain worse than being stabbed or punched. You keep your eyes on Leon - he is fine, he is safe, he is well, he is worried sick about you- as he continues to nod and tell you to breathe.
It takes a while, Leon’s hands on your shoulder as you finally calm down, the tears rolling freely from your eyes.
“I am sorry.” You manage to whisper. “I am so sorry.”
“You are safe. We both are safe.” Leon declares, and you take that in. Right now, yes. But what about tomorrow? What about-? “Hey, eyes open at me.” When had you even closed them? “Come on. There is no one else, just you and me. And we are safe.” 
You nod, not arguing back. Finally, you sit down, and Leon takes two steps back. “Water?” 
“I think there are some in the fridge,” you reply, cleaning your tears. Leon leaves and quickly comes back with two bottles, unbottling them for you. You shake your head, but Leon insists, and you drink in small sips, the cold liquid refreshing your dry throat. When was the last time you had any water? Or took a shower? Or slept?
Finally, you give him space on the couch to sit. Leon doesn’t, and you point your head to your side, and he sits, keeping a safe distance from you. You two say nothing for a while, simply looking at the TV to watch Bart Simpsons on his shenanigans. 
“I am sorry.”
“Would you stop that?” Leon sighs back, frustrated. 
“No. I am sorry.”
“Fine. I forgive you. Are we good now?”
“No.” 
“I knew it wouldn’t be,” Leon replies with a sad smile.
“You could have died, and I didn’t-” Leon says your name, but you continue “-let me finish. I didn’t help. I didn’t move. I did nothing.” 
Leon didn’t want to talk about this, knowing it was inevitable. The day he took a bullet for you: not one, but two. Leon noticed before you, his reflexes quicker than yours. It was his responsibility anyway.
You only watched, shocked, as the bullet pierced his leg, then his chest. You didn’t move or flinch; you just froze, your hands closing and opening nervously as Leon fell right in front of you. You had been fortunate that the backup team had arrived on the other second, finding in the middle of the swarm of bullets a screaming you protecting Leon with his own body, all training thrown out of the window. You two should have been dead. Life had given you and him another chance, since no other vital organ or vein of Leon had been damaged.
You don’t remember much after except asking for your resignation that same day and getting a “No” as an answer. So you decided to get on sick leave until some higher-up got tired and fired you.
“I did nothing.” Leon tries to interrupt you again, but you continue, “You could have died, and I did nothing.”
“It wouldn’t be your fault.” 
“What? Of course, it would!” 
“No, it would not.” 
“Can you fucking stop trying to make me feel better?” Your tone is so angry, so vile, that Leon almost flinches. 
Death is always in the back of his mind. Every time he is out there, he could die. He is expandable; they all are, but he couldn’t just let you die. You a much smarter version of what he once was during Raccoon City. The same bravery, but not foolish as his. Much sharper. Leon knew why he got paired up with you in the first place, the irony not completely lost in him. 
It would have been fine if Leon died that day he protected you, but not okay if you did. Not on his watch. Not now, not ever.
“I can’t help it,” Leon replies, a sad smile on his lips. “I can’t help it, especially when a friend needs my help.” 
A friend? 
Do not grow attachments. Wasn’t that your first lesson? It had been hard to be paired up with a man who hated it at first, then to learn how to laugh at his silly jokes or admire how far Leon would go for anyone. For anyone, except himself, stupid brave man.
You open your mouth and close it, simply lying against the sofa with your eyes closed. 
“So, let me help you?” His voice is warm and inviting. 
It would be best if you said no. You should kick this man out of your living room, out of your life, and never go back to that stupid job fighting an endless battle that would end with you dead or someone you cherished dead. You don’t know how Leon does it, but as you open your eyes, his blue eyes look straight at you awaits in hope. Waiting to comfort you, support you to the best of his abilities, and be your friend.
The pain is still there, vivid in your soul and mind, but there is hope. Right there, in that tiny spot you gave Leon S. Kennedy. That’s why you shouldn’t have opened that damn door, you realize, but it is too late. You limit on nodding.
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ysrjune · 2 days
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ok ur one of my favorite moots that post Anakin/hayden fics so i have a request 😛
i don’t remember if you write for irl hayden but if you don’t do dilf anakin (it isn’t smut)
basically dads best friend!Hayden/Anakin x bold (kind of grunge/slutty) reader
Hayden goes with reader to get a pricing.
(if you want it to be less fluffy with kinda smutty undertones you can do nip pricing’s but you could also do stomach 🤭)
basically readers dad allows it but dosen’t fully approve so he dosen’t go with her and reader needs comfort as she loves the look of piercings, but is TERRIFIED of needles.
Hayden/Anakin holds her hand and stuff and she makes funny comments like “i just want to look hot for the summer man why does this have to hurt so bad?!” or “do you think ill look sexy with these mr. Christensen/Skywalker?” 
they like gaze into each others eyes and lowk have a cute moment as he comforts her (but if they are nip piercings it would be loving for another reason too iykwim!!!)
and if you do anakin because it would be modern maybe sam monroe (obviously not the character just the look/personality) could be him at lauren’s age so he would relate to her more and be more attracted to her. maybe even on the way to the piercer have Anakin show her his old school photos and all of his piercings and reader tell him she’d do him as a teen (she has no shame and we love that!)
sorry if this request makes you uncomfortable. I just had a daydream about this as i’m getting my stomach pierced soon and thought you were the best person to ask because I love your writing 🙏😛
“one of my fav moots” you will be receiving a big smooch 😆💋
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Anakin held your hand while waiting for the piercing lady to enter the small room. “God, I wish there was a way to get his damn piercing without the needle.” A complaint fell from your lips as Anakin read something on his phone with his free hand.
“Aren't magnetic balls a thing? Or some people glue them, I hear.” He replied, still scrolling through whatever he was reading. “Duh, those are a thing, but they're so ugly and fake looking.” Anakin chuckled a little, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles.
“Guess you'll just have to deal with the needle then, sweetie.” He shrugged, finally looking at you. His gaze was soft and caring, but yet so sexy and attractive. “Do you think I'll look good with a belly piercing, Mr. Skywalker?” you bat your eyelashes at him.
“Yeah, I think so. Though, I'd think maybe an eyebrow or lip piercing would look better.” He says, looking all around your pretty face and eyes that were covered in dark makeup. “I remember when I was a teenager, I had a couple of piercings myself.”
“You're such a liar.” You rolled your eyes at him. “No, seriously. I have a couple of photos and the holes to prove it.” He pointed to the small, closed hole under his bottom lip, and then the one on his eyebrow.
“Holy shit, Ani! No way you were cool.” You laughed, still keeping your eyes on the hole in his lip. He quickly pulled up the photos for more proof, too. He showed you one with a cigarette in his hand with his eyeliner, piercings (not just on his face, but ears), and dyed hair.
“Wow, Ani. If you still looked like that, I'd definitely do you.” This made Anakin blush a little and furrow his eyebrows. “Yeah, okay, kiddo.” He says and uncomfortably shifts in his chair to hide his hardening dick.
Soon enough, the lady came in and did what was expected. Ani held your hand extra tight to comfort you. “God job, sweetie. Didn't cry like I expected you to.” He says after the lady left the room.
“Does it look good?” You look at your belly. “Looks super good, honey.” He kissed your cheek before heading to the car.
That night, he touched himself to the thought of you having your nipples pierced. How pretty they'd look bouncing up and down while you ride him. Maybe he'll day something about one of his ex girlfriends having nipple piercings and how he loved them so much.
He knew you liked him. He knew you'd do anything to make him happy even if you didn't notice how good he was at convincing you to do things.
WAS THIS GOOD? I FEEL LIKE IT SUCKED OMG 😭 LMK IF U WANT ANYTHING TO BE CHANGED!!
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the purpose of this post is for me to figure some stuff out so i'm open to feedback and discussion
disclaimer: i love Halsin, he's my precious bear man
but damn i am pissed
i started to really dig into the epilogue, specifically that last morning after the brain goodbye scene in the room at the inn where he says he has nine wagons of kids and he will aid the people in Thaniel's realm
sadly i can't find any footage of what he says when Tav goes "oh a community built with your own hands, i'd love to see that" (or something to that extent) bc i think that is the one option that nullifies the goodbye and i think? he just asks if Tav is sure and then happy end bells
but even so
the interaction practically starts with "why does this sound like you're saying goodbye?" - oh that's because he is. at least for now. but Tav can visit, he's very eager for them to visit - and then narrator is like a tenday later Tav went to the commune and then the party invite stuff, not important
and I'm like....
it just hit me how - yes, Halsin has abandonment issues and he wants to help those orphans and all the homeless refugees and all the great stuff but like…… HOW DARE YOU DECIDE FOR ME THAT I DON'T WANNA GO WITH YOU????
watching that on a loop three times seriously hit me hard and i don't like it (as in me, personally, not in the sense that it's bad writing or it makes no sense for him to do that, maybe it does - if somebody can help me wrap my head around that, I would be super grateful bc atm I'm stuck in my own emotional reaction to Halsin making decisions for me)
in my head Tav's response to that should be: fuck you, i don't want to visit - fuck that! i wanna go with you and move in with you bc I love you but i guess you don't really want that huh? oh you do? then I guess we are at an impasse, huh?
bottom line is - what do I want to do with it in my fic?
i could ignore it bc i kinda wanna, i don't want them fighting like that
on the other hand it would be great to have this devolve into a conflict, bc i already sprinkled a few tiny bits of them saying not the best things but then the other kinda steps past it or around it and they are fine, but it would add some realism for them to have a serious disagreement about their (joint) future and about communicating and making decisions and could be something to be revisited as a work in progress for them to grow into as their relationship keeps going
i don't mind exploring difficult shit in my fics, i already decided to commit and give Tav my trauma and it was very cathartic just drafting that bit, and this turning into a conflict could play into that I suppose, could work really well
I guess my problem is the dissonance between Halsin doing that unintentionally bc of his own issues and him generally being very considerate and respectful of others, especially Tav imo, he was perfectly happy to follow their decisions as a leader but now I guess they are no longer the leader and this is his thing, his commune, his new purpose in life and ofc he could never be selfishly happy when he could be doing good things for strangers but like.... i can't grasp that step how from that he goes into "therefore I shall not offer this as a choice for them but instead make that a foregone conclusion that this is goodbye, at least for now" - is it bc asking means risk of rejection and he'd rather reject himself to spare them both the interaction?
sorry this got rambly XD but anyway - thoughts?
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diazsdimples · 2 days
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20 Questions for Fic Writers
Tagged by @dangerpronebuddie thanks friend!!
How many works do you have on ao3?
13! Will be 18 when I finish all my current wips (should be 19 but one has been abandoned 🥲)
What's your total ao3 word count?
230,841 words
What fandoms do you write for?
Exclusively 9-1-1, mostly because I deleted all my old British Actor RPF fics 😐
Top 5 fics by kudos:
1. Buck's Baby (By Accident) (Buddie)
2. For the rest of my life (for the rest of yours) (Buddie)
3. Sweet child of mine (Bucktommy)
4. In a drought I'll give you water (Buddie)
5. Fucking Finally (Finally Fucking) (Buddie)
Do you respond to comments?
Eventually 😬I try my best!!
What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
None of my published fics have a shred of angst. However, Frostpunk AU is full of it so it'll be that
What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
All of them?? But probably Sweet child of mine or For the rest of my life (for the rest of yours) for hopeful endings
Do you get hate on fics?
Not really? I did have one person get mad at me for events that transpire in Buck's Baby (By Accident) but idc really
Do you write smut?
No. Never. Smut is terrible.
(This is a blatant lie, 7/13 of my fics are smut and I have 3 wips that have smut)
Craziest crossover?
I don't write crossovers.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
If I have, I'm gonna throw hands
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Not that I know of!
Have you co-written a fic before?
Currently co-writing 2 with @hippolotamus and @theotherbuckley!
All time favorite ship?
Buddie. Always Buddie. Will always be Buddie. Followed closely by Bucktommy
What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?
I really hate to say this but probably my Single Dads AU. She's so beefy and the size of it has scared the hell out of me. As much as I love it, I don't think it gets as much traction as other wips and the beans just haven't been there.
What are your writing strengths?
I honestly don't know, I think I can write smut pretty well? And I'm not bad at cute stuff. The honest truth is I am extremely insecure about my writing abilities and think I'm average at best.
What are your writing weaknesses?
I struggle with dialogue as I often feel like I'm being too OOC. Also descriptions. I spend the most time sitting there thinking of how tf to describe something.
Thoughts on dialogue in another language?
I can google translate pet names and that's where I draw the line. I don't want people to say that I'm saying stuff wrong.
First fandom you wrote in?
Marvel and Sherlock, at the same time.
Favorite fic you've written?
Play me like a fiddle is my labour of love and the fact that it flopped the way it did made me so sad. My next favourite would be You've got me whipped (Brat!Buck BDSM fic) cause it was so out of my comfort zone but I feel like I did it well, or In a drought I'll give you water because I have never been funnier in a fic than in this one.
Tagging (if you wanna): @theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @daffi-990 @watchyourbuck @bidisasterevankinard
@neverevan @aroeddiediaz @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg
@jesuisici33 @wikiangela @loveyouanyway @cal-daisies-and-briars @exhuastedpigeon
@kitteneddiediaz @thekristen999 @actuallyitsellie @loserdiaz @elvensorceress
@underwaterninja13 @rainbow-nerdss @smilingbuckley @spagheddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings
@thewolvesof1998
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bookstantrash · 19 hours
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A/N: And I am back in my "Nessian with RED (TV) fic titles" agenda. They are just so RED coded and I had been dying to write something related to this album it is one of my fav albums of TS tbf.
This one shot is more Cassian centric, and it is also a type of fanfic I had been meaning to write for the longest times. I just feel like the fandom overall forgets that Cassian has a lot of trauma and insecurities, and I wish we saw more of that.
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Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound
Nightmares were not unusual to Cassian. He had them for as long as he could remember.
He had them when he was a mere child living on the outskirts of Windhaven, blowing on his hands to try and keep himself warm.
Had them when he was a young warrior, taking part in the Blood Rite, fighting his way to find his brothers alive.
Had them when he took part in the First War and saw deaths far more gruesome than what he had experienced at the Blood Rite.
Had them pile up after each war, each battle he took part in. Dreamt about his soldiers dying, about having to give their families the news and be met with sadness, anger and resentment. That they were gone and would never return. That while they had died he, a mere bastard born nobody, an orphan, had not.
He grew used to nightmares. Usually he would wake up with silent tears and a sense of regret and failure over his heart, spending the rest of the night awake, going over reports. Those were the good nights.
And on those rare times when his mind was particularly evil and wanted to punish him deeply, on those nights he would wake up with his heart racing, the urge to throw up taking him out of his bed to leave him retching over the toilet, the need to scream at anyone and everyone consuming him. To scream in anger and despair. Those were the bad nights, the ones who made him go to the training ring and rip the punching bags, made him stay there until the sun was rising and he would pass out with tiredness, no dreams, good or bad appearing for him.
He was so used to his nightmares that he knew what to expect, knew how to recognise when it would be a bad or good night.
And then he met Nesta and his nightmares changed.
Now he dreamt of his failures with her. Not being able to stop her from being thrown into the Cauldron, not protecting her from Hybern during the War, not helping her heal sooner after the war, letting her be kidnapped again and thrown in the Blood Rite.
Nothing could have prepared him for those nightmares, nightmares that got worse after they finally got together.
Because finally being able to be with the love of his life, his Nesta, his wife and mate… that made him incredibly afraid. Afraid that the happiness he had never felt before would be stolen from him, leaving him empty, a sad and lonely youngling in the bitter snow all over again.
The first time Cassian had a nightmare after he and Nesta had wed, he had woken up in a cold sweat, heart beating so loudly on his ears that for a second he thought he was hearing the Illyrian war drums. He had dreamt of the night she had been Made, of dragging himself over the cold floor of Hybern’s throne room, the pain of his shredded and bloody wings almost non-existent at the face of Nesta’s despair. At her screams of rage as she was dragged under the cold dark waters of the Cauldron.
He had only calmed down when he realised Nesta was safely sleeping beside him, arms around him tightening and her sleepily mumbling at him.
“Where are you going?”
Cassian had considered untangling himself from his wife’s warm embrace and going over some leftover documents, silently keeping watch over her. But one look at her sleeping face had his resolve weakening.
“Nowhere, Nes” he had settled beside her, dropping a kiss on her forehead “Go back to sleep”
Whenever Cassian had a nightmare, he would try his best to not wake up Nesta. He did not want to bother her with his worries and fears. And somehow the Mother must have taken pity on him, because he was scarcely having any bad nights since they'd gotten married. Sure, he still had nightmares, but those made him want to rip his own heart out had stopped.
He took that as a small blessing. He would take the good nights over no dreams if that meant that the unbearable nightmares would be kept at bay.
However, Nesta was not oblivious that something preyed on her husband’s mind. She had noticed how worn out he was, how when he smiled at her and said nothing was wrong his smile did not reach his eyes.
But Nesta wanted Cassian himself to tell her what was happening. Wanted him to open his heart about what was making the circles beneath his eyes darker with each passing day without her having to dig it out of him. He had told her months ago during that hike at Illyria that she could be silent and he would be waiting for her to open up when she felt comfortable, as long as she did not shut him out. Now Nesta would do the same. She would wait beside him, offering her support however she could until he was ready to talk.
“You are unusually quiet today,” Nesta noted. They were resting on the sofa in front of the fireplace — Nesta reading a book and Cassian lying down, his head on her lap — having a quiet late evening after the training session with the Valkyries in the morning.
“Missing the sound of my lovely voice, Nes? Should I read out loud a paragraph from your book?” Cassian teased, opening an eye. He had slept poorly the night before, and the quiet sound of the embers crackling on the fireplace and his mate absentmindedly running her free hand through his hair had him battling sleep.
“No,” she closed her book, “it was merely an observation.”
Cassian closed his eyes again, smiling softly.
“Are you sure? I am certain the House would love to hear all about your newest smutty book”
The faelights flicked twice, as if agreeing with him.
“Oh hush now, you can read it after I am done with it. ” Nesta said, glaring at the ceiling “I never knew a sentient being more impatient”
Cassian laughed. At first he had been surprised when Nesta talked to the House, but he had grown used to it, even talking to It on more than one occasion.
“Do you want to move to our room?” Nesta asked, gently running her hands through his hair “it is more comfortable than the couch”
Cassian merely sighed “No, I am very comfortable like this” he turned on his side, arms circling her waist and wings dropping a little on the floor “I am afraid I will keep you hostage while I nap.”
Whatever Nesta meant to say was lost when she noticed how his breath had eased, her mate having already fallen asleep. And before she could even ask, the House flicked off the faelights, drawing shut the curtains of the room they had turned into their living room.
“Thank you,” Nesta found it quite endearing how the House had grown to care about Cassian as much as It cared about her. In the beginning, It liked to play pranks on him and even sided with Nesta whenever she and Cassian had an argument — once It locked Cassian outside and only let him in when he apologised. Over time, however, they had formed a rather close friendship.
Nesta opened her book again, turning on the small faelight that Azriel had gifted her on Solstice. She had just gotten to the juicy part and she knew that little light would not wake Cassian any time soon if the way he was softly breathing was any indication of how deeply he was sleeping.
She had read half of the book when she felt an uneasy feeling through the bond. She looked down at Cassian and saw his breathing getting uneven, his arms tightening around her waist.
“Cass?” Nesta whispered softly, setting her book aside. She could feel his fear and anguish through the bond, and it pained her that she could do nothing to ease his pain.
Cassian whimpered, and although Nesta knew better than to wake up someone having a nightmare, she could not stand to see him in such pain.
“Cassian, wake up, please” she tugged on her end of the bond, her hands cupping his face. He woke up gasping, hazel eyes huge and scared.
“A bucket,” he managed to say as he scrambled up, his breathing erratic “I need—”
No sooner had the House made a bucket appear than Cassian was on his knees, emptying his stomach. Nesta kneeled beside him, holding his hair back and rubbing his back.
“It is okay, everything is fine now” she said softly.
The House made a glass of water and a towel appear, Nesta thanking It quietly. Cassian had closed his eyes, breathing as if he had just learned how to.
“Hey,” she grabbed his face “open your eyes Cass.”
His hands came up, grabbing her wrists like he was wandering at the sea and she was his lifeline.
“That is it, just look at me” she said softly yet firmly, his scared hazel eyes meeting her blue-grey ones “Breath, Cassian.”
Nesta took a deep breath, holding it in for a few seconds before letting it go slowly. Cassian copied her, and after a few minutes his breathing had become normal again, his racing heart also slowing down.
“I am sorry,” that was the first thing he said, voice hoarse “I did not want you to see me like this”
“Nonsense,” Nesta dismissed, giving him the glass of water and making him drink it “you have seen me in much worse conditions”
“Are you ready to tell me what is going on?” she asked.
Cassian nodded his head, biding his time by taking another sip of water and using the towel to clean his mouth.
“For as long as I could remember I’ve had nightmares,” he began “There are the good nightmares and bad nightmares. The good ones usually wake me and leave me with a feeling of failure.”
Nesta remembered the nights in which she would wake up to an empty bed, Cassian going over reports — she would sit on his lap and give remarks as he went over them —  or just standing on their balcony. On those nights she would go over to him and bring him back to bed.
“I am cold” she would say, and he would hug her tightly and Nesta would let him think that she did not notice how he needed the hug more than she did.
She could always feel his sadness through the bond, no matter how hard he tried to close his end of that golden thread that binds them together so intrinsically.
“And the bad ones?” Nesta quietly asked.
“The bad ones leave me like this,” he said with a self deprecating laugh “A complete and utter mess, barely functioning.”
“You have been sleeping poorly for a while now. Why didn’t you talk to me?” Cassian must have seen the hurt on her eyes, felt it through the bond, because he grabbed her hands, squeezing them.
“I am not good with words, I am sure you have noticed that,” he smiled weakly “I wish I was half as eloquent as you are.”
“You managed just fine in our wedding” she said with an arched eyebrow, and that got a real laugh out of him.
“I was inspired that day, I will admit.” he got serious again “But I think that maybe spending a lot of time being alone and angry did not help with my inability to find the right words to express what I am feeling. And to share my problems with others.”
Nesta had noticed this particular trait of Cassian, especially after she had stopped keeping him at arms lengths and had finally allowed herself to admit what she felt for him. He loved his family deeply, would put himself at risk for others in a heartbeat, would always have a happy face and joke to lighten the mood.
He cared for and about everyone, but what about him? Who did the same to him?
Nesta wanted to be the one with whom he could discard his happy mask and show a range of emotions.
“You can always talk to me Cassian,” she said “Anytime, no matter what.”
“I don't want to burden you. You already went through so much that to further worry you with something as silly as a nightmare—”
“I cannot believe you are saying this,” Nesta said, and Cassian could feel her anger and disappointment through the bond “You could never burden me and for you to even suggest otherwise—”
“I am your wife, Cassian. Your mate. If I don’t care and worry about you, who will?” she continued after taking a deep breath to calm herself “Besides, it is not a silly nightmare if it affected you this way”
Cassian stayed a few minutes quiet, mindlessly playing with her wedding band, brows furrowed in concentration.
“Another reason I was hesitant to talk to you about the nightmares is because— because now I have nightmares about you, Nes” he avoided her eyes while he talked, still focused on her hands “The good nightmares are the ones about my failures with you. Not stopping Hybern, not helping you sooner…”
Nesta’s heart almost broke when he said that. How could he think that about himself when he had been the one to tell her months ago when they visited the old shabby cottage she had lived with her family in poverty that there was nothing she could have done to stop Hybern and save her father?
“And the bad?” she asked, wishing he would look at her.
“The bad ones are about you dying in my arms. About you realising I am nothing more than a bastard born nobody, who is not deserving  of even the air you breathe and then leaving to go travel the world, to marry a king from the continent or from other fae lands.” his voice got quieter, almost a whisper, as if he was afraid of telling her what he saw on those nights “Of you simply leaving me and never looking back.”
“Tonight— tonight was a bad one,” he finally looked at her and his face was so utterly wrecked with pain and desperation that Nesta wanted to tell him that she would stop his nightmares, that she would bargain with the Mother and even that blasted Cauldron to leave him alone.
“I dreamt that when Briallyn ordered me to kill I could not turn the knife on myself. So I killed you. And she got the Mask and kept reviving you so I had to kill you over and over and over again” silent tears started running down his face and her heart truly shattered.
She hugged him tight, Cassian burying his head on her shoulder.
“Shh xe nhia, I am here,” Nesta knew a few words in Illyrian, and she hoped that the use of them, the familiarity that they brought, would help Cassian “I am not leaving you. Not now and not ever”
“However, if you keep trying to spoil my books I might become Ems’ newest house mate” she joked, making Cassian laugh.
“I would be completely lost without you Nes,” he said with a weak smile.
“I know,” she tenderly brushed his cheeks, drying his tears “Promise me something?”
“Anything you desire”
“Promise me you will wake me up when you have another nightmare, be it ‘good’ or ‘bad’. Promise me you will talk to me and let me be beside you when you are in need.” she pleaded.
“I promise” Cassian kissed her cheek, gathering her in his arms and walking towards their bedroom. Reluctantly setting her down, he went to their bathroom to freshen up while Nesta changed out of her dress.
Cassian walked back in to find her wearing one his favourite sweaters.
“I had been looking for that sweater”
“You were? Funny how it ended up in my drawer. Maybe the House put it there by mistake” Nesta shrugged, knowing very well that she had been the one to steal it. She was constantly stealing Cassian’s clothes.
“You do look better on it than me, so I think I can forgive that small mishap” he said, getting under the covers and hugging Nesta close.
“I love you, Nes” he whispered in her ear “And thank you”
“I love you too, Cass,” she replied, snuggling closer to him.
And that night, for the first time in a long while, Cassian had no nightmares.
tag list: @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @arinbelle @letstakethedawn @katekatpattywack @nestaarcheron @imagine-me @sv0430 @starryblueskies7 @live-the-fangirl-life @valkyriewarriors @readskk @wannawriteyouabook @imwritingthesewords @rainbowcheetah512 @moodymelanist @castielspelvis
[Reblogs/likes/comments are always welcomed!!]
29 notes · View notes
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So I'm personally a fan of fics where the characters react to their show/game/book/etc, and how they react to the things they never would have otherwise seen. What im saying is, In what ways do you think ratio would react to seeing aventurine in that last update? Seeing his past cutscenes that got shown, his conversations with his future self and seeing Aventurine's child form as well. Because theres so much there that ratio never would have gotten this perspective on otherwise and I have to wonder how hed feel about it. He probably already guessed that Aventurine had a rough life since he knows he used to be a slave, but thats different from seeing it first hand in his memories and to hear him basically admit to himself that hes tired, wishes that fate didnt curse him with his blessing, and really just wants to die. Like theres so much to explore here, especially from the view of Ratio who genuinely wants to help humanity seeing this
Oh that's a good question! The first thing that comes to my mind is that the more Aventurine expresses his desire to die, the more Ratio would be stressing out about the possibility that he might forget to open his note, that Aventurine might never know that someone did care. And he would be beyond relieved once Acheron does remind Aventurine to read it.
As for him witnessing Aventurine's past, I think that after seeing everything he went through, he would feel kind of guilty for not realizing that the power of the Harmony would put him back through all those bad memories and for not being there for him as he slowly fell apart (even though Ratio staying away and pretending he didn't care was part of Aventurine's plan). At the same time, he would also be impressed by Aventurine's resilience, by how he managed to make it out alive despite all the odds that were pitted against him. It would confirm what Ratio already suspected: that Aventurine is far more clever than anyone gives him credit for.
Most of all, I think Ratio would be dying to find a way to reach out to him, even in a situation he knows it isn't logically possible, because he sure cares so much for Aventurine, though he might not be the greatest at expressing it. I can also see him scribbling on his tablet as he writes down everything he should say/do the next time he sees Aventurine, because the last thing he wants is to screw it up and to make Aventurine feel even worse about himself.
(Oh, and after seeing all that, he would be furious at Sunday for the psychological torture he put Aventurine through)
I'm sure there would be many more things to say about his reactions, but this is what first came to me after reading your ask! And once again, thanks for sharing your thoughts about them with me 😊
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tommykinard6 · 1 day
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I don't mean to pile onto your bad day but I've been seeing a lot of creators on tiktok complain/compare the bucktommy and henren tags/fic count on ao3 because there's almost more bucktommy fics then there are henren fics. The number one claim is always that bucktommy writers are racist because we don't write for henren. But like, that's not correct at all? People can write fanfiction for whatever they want to. If they want to see more henren stuff then they can write it on their own.
We can coexist without fighting each other. I'm just tired of people screaming about how bucktommy is anti this or anti that, when we're just vibing by ourselves and don't want the drama but the drama finds us anyway because Sucky People are loud and get heard the most.
You’re good, anon. It actually gave me something to think about during work.
As a quick disclaimer, before we begin, I’m not a POC. I am not speaking for anyone in the Black community and am not attempting to speak over them. My following thoughts are as a queer woman-ish who is also a writer.
I think it must be noted that Hen and Karen have been overlooked since day one. The fact that Buck coming out made it the “gay firefighter show” when we’ve had a beautiful canonical lesbian couple since the very beginning? Is only proof. Is this proof of racism in the fandom? Maybe. Quite possibly. I would argue that it comes from a misogynistic point as well.
If you look in any fandom, regardless of the color of their skin, any wlw ship is horribly overlooked. I’ve done some tag searching on ao3. Straight and mlm ships battle for dominance while there are canonical and fanonical wlw ships that have a drastic difference in numbers. This isn’t a good thing. But it’s an experience that spans fandoms.
I find it sad that BuckTommy has almost more fics, with only two episodes under their belt, than Henren with 7 seasons. However, this isn’t a reason to hate on BuckTommy. The ship didn’t do anything wrong. Comparison is the thief of joy and it’s also rage bait. I think that some creators simply are using anything they can to hate on BuckTommy. Which that makes it sadder, that they aren’t concerned about Henren other than pushing their own agenda.
This isn’t to say all creators who are speaking about this are doing this, but I guarantee some are.
Now, let me speak as a writer.
As someone with 62 published fics on ao3, I write almost exclusively mlm ships. This isn’t because I hate women. And as a queer woman-ish, don’t even start about homophobia. But for some reason, I find it so much easier to write men than I do to write women. This is true for straight and wlw ships and also just in general. I love Henren, but I don’t have the faintest idea about how to write them.
It’s hard enough to write as it is and I’m already writing on ships that are easy for me. I try to write women and it just hasn’t come out right. I want to challenge myself, branch out, and maybe I’ll write for Henren to do that. But I say all this to point out that for some people like me, writing some ships and demographics of ships are just a little more difficult.
That leads me into something else.
I, as a white person, worry about accidentally writing non-white characters wrong. And this was reinforced not too long ago when we had that whole thing on ao3 with deliberate racism in 9-1-1 fics. If anyone has resources or advice for writing non-white characters, I would love to hear that! The last thing I want to do is cause any harm.
I feel like I’ve spoken a lot about me, but that’s because I can’t really speak for anyone else. I can only speak from my experience.
We already have a ship war between BuckTommy and Buddie. We don’t need to pit more people against each other. I think we can love BuckTommy while agreeing that Henren needs to be seen and appreciated and treated equally.
End note to say: I tried to speak as delicately and as sensitively as I could, but if anything came out wrong, please feel free to point it out (kindly). Again, I speak for no one but my very little section of the world. I’m interested to hear what people of other backgrounds have to add!
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jumexju · 2 days
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Could I request general relationship headcanons for mello with an s/o who has a similar style to misa but is as smart as mello & near? Also u don't have to include this part but if u could add that s/o always has some kind of energy/caffeinated drink that would be cool. Like how mello always has chocolate yk?
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BURN IN MY LIGHT
Fic Type !! : General Relationship Hcs / Fluff / Some angst
Pairing !! : Mello x Goth Reader
CW !! : None ^^
Summary !! : General relationship headcannons between mello & a goth reader who's as smart as him
Note !! : Sorry I couldn't write more, exams are kicking my ass
✦ MASTERLIST
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Honestly, if you're as smart as him it could go both ways. As in : You two would probably bicker if you're ever working on a case with him, since Mello is an emotional guy. BUT !! He's more willing to hear your input because unlike Near, you're not as 'arrogant' as he is.
Since his style and yours are similar (in my mind, he's goth, no doubt about it), you two'd probably end up wearing each others clothes (cuz he's fashionable)
He'd probably share his chocolate with you
I see a lot of fics mischaracterize him so ima put it out there and say, while he is an emotionally-driven character & is hasty in his actions, it never comes from a place of malice. Mello, I feel, would try to protect you as much as he can.
He doesn't trust the mafia much despite him helping them, he knows what they're like and he'd rather not involve you in that type of life. So to protect you, he'd try to keep you at a distance which can sometimes come off as him not wanting to see you.
With Mello, you'd need to have a hell of a lot of patience and understanding. 1) Because Mello has trouble processing his emotions in a healthy way since, as we've seen, he's used to not coping with the healthily & 2) Because sometimes his emotions get the best of him, you'd need to understand that he doesn't mean to lash out at you
With your high intelligence, he's likely to ask for your opinions on the Kira case & other cases as well because two minds are better than one (as long as that other mind isn't Near's, of course.)
As for your caffeine addiction, Mello would be the type to tell you not to drink so much of it because it's bad for you, and then chow down on two king-sized bars of chocolate in one sitting :3
If you ever get hot chocolate or something like it, you better protect it because Mello's coming for it. "Just a sip, trust me!" and then not even a minute later, its gone.
Overall, I think a relationship with Mello would be pretty wholesome, but not perfect. I mean, when are relationships ever perfect?
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zeroeightzeroone · 4 hours
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Hiyaa,
I have a request?
Producer!Bang chan x reader
Established relationship
Angst/comfort
Bang chan is in a bad mood so when he's at the studio he shouts at a co-worker he's close to/ 3racha member.
The co-worker/3racha member leaves and bumps into reader (who was already on the way to the studio? Because they haven't spent time together in a while?) and like hints at chan's bad mood.
Reader enters studio and chan starts to get mad but like reader is like "can I sit on your lap?" and he's like ❔ and she's like "you can continue working, can I sit on your lap?" and he's like "... Yeah?". Then it's fluff fluff fluff because fluff is the best 💯💯🚫🧢. Like a lot of fluff.
Oh also can you work in the reader saying something along the lines of "I get your frustrated but can you please not speak to me like that?" 🥺
And like chan gets more at peace/ relaxed/ less frustrated and apologies to coworker/ member and yeah and they all live happily ever after
creative differences - bang chan
genre: angst, comfort, eventual fluff
pairings: idol/producer!bang chan x fem!reader
warnings: chan is snappy, use of profanity
notes: thank you so much for your request <3 i hope i did it justice. this may also be the longest fic i've posted on this account with a little over 4.3k words
wc ~4.3 | moodboard
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 。 。・:*:・゚★,。・:
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since their debut, the company had already set expectations that the boys would have at least two comebacks a year–one in the first half of the year and another in the latter half. if they wanted to have more than two, they could, but two was the absolute least. the first comeback of this year for the boys went off without a hitch, resulting in topping multiple charts and receiving a handful of music show wins. however, the process for this second comeback of the year was already off to a rocky start, and the road ahead only looks winding and increasingly difficult.
the boys of 3racha have been in the studio every day for the past couple of weeks brainstorming and trying to put things together for the upcoming release. but they all seem to be hitting walls, or the ideas clash due to the amount of stress and pressures looming over their heads. so many people are counting on them–the members, producers, choreographers, and the jyp entertainment team, stay. and as the days in the studio pass, with the boys not agreeing on songs, arrangements, mixing, and more, the weight on their shoulders increases as well.
bang chan, the leader of stray kids and 3racha, felt the pressures even more so than changbin and han did.
currently, the three boys find themselves in chan's room inside the jyp entertainment building; chan is seated on the rolling chair in front of the multiple screens and mixing boards, while changbin and han are seated on either end of the couch. the three of them with their phones, laptops and notebooks opened up as they continue to brainstorm and discuss. but much like weeks prior, the progress isn't progressing, the progress is lacking or non-existent.
letting a deep sigh slip past his lips, han's eyebrows furrow in frustration as he scratches over old bullet points and writes new ones in his notebook, looking for ideas that could work. changbin is scrolling through his notes app and audio recording app, intermittently bringing the speakers at the bottom of his phone closer to his ear to hear the audio better as it's turned down to not disturb the other two, changbin tapping his fingers on his knee as he listens with his lip pursed in a tight line. chan is doing a mix of what the two are doing; writing and scratching out old and new ideas in his notebook, scrolling through his notes and audio recording apps to find something that they could work with, as well as filing through the production hardware on the system to find any drafts that could also be used to at the least, spark some inspiration.
at one point, chan feels like he's going to tug his hair out by the roots as he runs his fingers through his locks haphazardly. he's reaching the end of his patience; they've been working for weeks, and they can't even find a starting place for the comeback–he feels as if all the old material he finds in the apps aren't good enough, that they won't exceed the expectations or hype of the last comeback, that it won't even reach those expectations. it's frustrating chan to no end as he feels like he's reaching a dead end.
with a sigh, chan turns in his chair to discuss with han and changbin who are on the couch. when changbin notices this, he glances at han from the corner of his eye, surveys the atmosphere, and runs a frustrated hand through his hair.
"we need to figure something out," chan splutters out, his mind quite frantic, "we have to have some ideas–at least something?"
he looks between changbin and han on the couch, their faces look just as discontented and their minds are frantic but blank at the same time–mirroring chan's own face and mind. chan shuts his eyes in an attempt to calm down his bubbling emotions as he leans back into his chair.
"we could look through the demos again?" han throws a suggestion onto the table.
"which ones?" changbin questions.
han shrugs while at the same time he says, "all of them?"
"why would we look through demos we already vetoed?" chan scoffs, "that would be a complete waste of time."
"it's just a suggestion," han restates, this time his tone laced with hints of irritation, "maybe one of those vetoed demos could actually work; we just need to rework it."
"this isn't the first time we've gone through the demos in the past couple of weeks," chan reminds, "if one of those demos could actually work, we would've found it on the first or second round of looking."
"what demos are you thinking of specifically?" changbin asks han, who shrugs.
"i don't know, but what harm is there to look again?"
chan groans in agitation, not understanding why han is so adamant about looking through the demos again: "this would probably be the fourth time–why waste our time with a fifth? we want to make progress, looking for a fifth time is a complete waste of time."
the older boy's tone is sharp, prompting an eye roll from the youngest in the room, his arms going up in protest: " hey. it was just a suggestion–at least something to get the ball rolling." he reiterates chan's words from the beginning of the conversation.
"how is doing something that hasn't worked the past four times for a fifth going to work? if it didn't work a majority, if not, all the past times–it's not going to work," the tension in the room continues to build.
"wouldn't it be better to start from scratch instead of looking through ideas that we already decided weren't working?" changbin chimes in.
at this, han starts to feel like the two older boys are ganging up against him, and he defends himself quickly, "once again, it was just a suggestion. i don't see either of you suggesting anything."
changbin scoffs, "did I not just suggest starting from scratch instead of looking through rejected ideas?"
han turns his head to face changbin on the other end of the couch, "haven't we also been trying to start from scratch these past couple of weeks? that also hasn't been working–if it did, we wouldn't be having this conversation!"
"how are we supposed to start from scratch if we have no ideas?" chan asks in a matter-of-fact tone.
"if we look through the old demos, put some together or play around, then maybe we can find ideas," han speaks slowly as if he's trying to enunciate his point to drill it into the other two's heads, "it's better than sitting at our notebooks and laptops and writing down, absolutely nothing."
han's method of slowing down and enunciating seems to have gone through changbin's head as he begins to see han's point. if they can't conjure something up from nothing, they might as well try to conjure something up from their old demos or many recordings of melodies that have come to mind in the past. putting things together could trigger some inspiration.
"no, i think han has a point here," changbin states, "if we have no foundation or starting point, we can't build anything on top of it. at least with the old demos, we can continue to build off of what we have."
a deep breath expels from chan's lips as he listens to both han and changbin bounce words of agreement off each other for this working with old demos plan.
"again," chan says slowly, "if it didn't work the past four times, why would it work now? the odds are not in your favour."
"but there's still a chance it could work," han argues, "if there's a chance, why not take it?"
chan tongues at his cheek, "because we have a deadline. we can't keep grasping at straws that are obviously not working."
"starting from scratch and coming up with absolutely nothing is also not going to help us meet the deadline."
"so you want to create an album of demos we've rejected? you want to release a subpar album?" chan taunts.
"that's not what i'm saying," han shakes his head.
"that's what i'm hearing!"
"look, hyung," changbin steps in, "just listen to us for a second."
"i'm listening," chan snaps, "and i disagree. we have a standard to reach, one to exceed. i'll be damned if we release something below that."
"why the hell would we release something below standard?" changbin scoffs, running his hands through his hair and over his face in exasperation. letting his hands linger on his face as he leans forward, elbows on his knees.
the youngest in the room snaps at chan, "the fuck? is this you saying you lack faith in our producing skills? that we can't rework old demos to produce something that not only hits that standard but exceeds it?"
the sharp change in han's tone and volume alerts changbin, who realizes this conversation–well now it's an argument–is getting out of hand. chan and han are practically at each others throats and they're both too headstrong but stubborn at the same time, neither of them will back down. obviously, avoiding conversation wasn't going to get them anywhere, but at this point, where emotions are high, and egos are even higher, no meaningful or productive conversation regarding the album will be shared. changbin realizes he needs to jump into action to diffuse the situation before it becomes a screaming match between the two heated bandmates.
"i'm saying we have a standard, we have expectations to uphold," chan speaks slowly, his voice deeper as he's practically sneering at han, "one that the company has for us, stay, everyone."
han snarls back, eyes throwing daggers in chan's direction, "i know that. i know that damn fucking well. i'm out here trying to innovate some sort of progress toward this album, progress that we have been severely lacking for the past couple of weeks. other than rejecting our ideas, what the hell have you been doing?" he raises his chin at the older boy in a provoking manner.
"han–" changbin starts but is quickly cut off by chan.
"what the hell have i been doing?" chan spits out the question, han nods, "i've been making sure all our releases since debut continue to surpass these standards–this upcoming album is no different. don't come into my studio questioning what the fuck i've been doing."
"hyung–" changbin tries again to no avail.
"maybe you should leave," chan hisses, and changbin's eyes widen, darting between the two other boys in the studio with fires in their eyes, "and come back when you have suggestions that aren't going to waste my fucking time."
"look, guys. hannie, channie hyung–" changbin is cut off again when han rises to his feet, jaw clenched as he stares down chan in front of him, eyes narrowed.
"fine. i'll leave," he declares, "this is a waste of my time. i'll come back when you've got your head out of your fucking ass and you're open to listening to anyone other than yourself."
chan spins back around in his chair, eyes rolling back in anger as he clenches his fists on the table. behind him, han is quickly packing up his laptop and notebook as changbin gulps, wracking his brain to think of who to attend to right now. when han stomps to the studio door, swinging it open and stomping out into the hall of the company building. changbin is quick to follow after him, leaving everything but his phone, keys and wallet in his pocket the whole time as he follows after han, shutting the door behind them, leaving chan to his own thoughts alone. he chooses to follow the younger boy to try to calm him down and ensure he's safe wherever he plans to run off to.
meanwhile, you're a couple moments away from the elevator reaching the same floor the three boys are on. your hands clasped in front of you as you keep an eye on the digital sign that changes with each floor, rocking back and forth on your heels to pass the time. you haven't seen your boyfriend in quite a while due to your conflicting schedules, work and life getting in the way of a relationship, but you were grateful for those moments in between the chaos where it was just steady love and happiness. you learned to cherish those small moments instead of grovelling over how much time you can't spend with your boyfriend–obviously you get sad once in a while when you're away from him but choose not to dwell on it. thankfully, tonight is one of those nights where you can spend your time in the comfort of your boyfriend's presence. but he has no idea that you were even planning on coming to the company building, he has no idea of this little surprise you've organized.
when the elevator dings, stopping at your floor, you exit quickly but you make your way down the hallway slowly. your head moving from left to right as you read the numbers on each door, ensuring you landed on the correct floor and were going in the right direction. when you hear footsteps and your eyes dart to changbin and han walking down the hall in your direction, a wave of relief washes over you until you catch a glimpse of the concern on changbin's face and the anger on han's. they notice you walking towards them belatedly, almost running into you, but you catch their attention before any collision.
"hey guys," you greet softly, concern written on your features at the sight of the two boys. eyes looking between changbin whose eyes are drooped with worry and han, who you can feel the anger radiating off of, "what's going on?"
they both exchange small greetings with you. given han's current state, his greetings are shorter and more reserved. his mouth shut and jaw clenched again once he's greeted you.
"creative differences," changbin says to which han scoffs, rolling his eyes, "ok well, that's how it started, but long story short, we got into an argument, and hannie walked out."
"we?"
changbin nods, "yeah, hannie, chan hyung and i."
your lips purse in a tight line when the second name rolls off changbin's tongue: "if you don't mind, could you explain what happened?"
not wanting to get into too much detail as changbin doesn't want further rile up the already upset han, he gives you a quick run down of the main points of the argument between the 3racha boys–mainly chan and han. you keep your mouth shut the whole time and nod, listening intently to changbin explain while han stands with his arms crossed over his chest, a prominent pout on his lips and his eyebrows knit together.
"you're on your way to see, channie hyung?" changbin asks for clarification and you nod, "okay, obviously after what i told you, he's in a really bad mood right now so proceed with caution. angry chan is scary chan."
you thank changbin for letting you know what happened from their perspective, bidding short goodbyes to both the boys as han and changbin decide to make their way back to the dorms. han needs some time to unwind and collect his thoughts after the spat with chan. you continue to walk down the hall, turning a corner and finding the room number that felix sent you earlier–103.
you knock on the door softly but hear nothing from the inside; you knock once again and hear nothing. you sigh and decide to turn the knob, letting yourself in.
chan heard the knocks; the first one sparked his annoyance, and the second continued to heighten it. the sound of the door being opened caused him to bark at whoever decided to come in when, through his silence, he clearly didn't grant the permission to.
"what the hell?" he mutters to himself before he barks out, turning in his chair, "complete silence after knocking is not an invitation to come in, fuckin–"
when chan fully turns in his chair to face the direction of the door, the words get caught in his throat at the sight of you. he assumed it might have been changbin, han or a staff member, but seeing you standing there took him by complete shock. you shut the door behind you and give chan a small wave that he reciprocates hesitantly, still trying to let it sink in that you're actually in the room with him and that he isn't hallucinating due to how long it's been since the last time he's seen his girlfriend in person. you move to sit on the couch that was once occupied by the two other 3racha members; now, one side is occupied by changbin's laptop and notebook while you sit on the opposite end. chan turns his chair, following your every move.
when you sit down, take the pillow and place it on your lap, you smile up at chan again, "hi."
"hey baby," chan speaks slowly, "what are you doing here?"
you hum before answering, "well, we haven't been able to see each other in a while cos of our schedules but some time opened up for me today, so i wanted to pay you a surprise visit."
chan feels his heart warm at the gesture, but he's still quite irritated and agitated from the argument with han and changbin. the lack of progress for the upcoming album, along with the plethora of expectations looming over his head and his patience begins to dwindle again.
"that's nice, but i don't really have time for this right now," chan's tone is stern, his voice deep in warning, "i've got so much shit to do for this upcoming album, and nothing is fucking–"
"can I sit on your lap?" you ask, cutting chan off and causing him to furrow his eyebrows together in a mix of confusion and irritation–irritated that you had cut him off but confused about whether he had heard you right.
"what?" he deadpans, blinking at you.
"can I sit on your lap?" you repeat, and now he knows he definitely didn't hear things.
"did you not hear what i said?" chan holds back from snarling at you in frustration. "nothing is done for the album, and i don't have time to take a break."
you nod, hearing his words but adding, "you can continue working. i just want to sit on your lap while you do."
chan opens his mouth to refuse, but his eyes lock with yours–your shiny, beautiful eyes with a perfect array of colours decorating the irises, gazing up at him with a splash of hope in the depths of love in your eyes. that's when his mouth snaps shut again, probably looking like a fish when it opens again, but this time he says:
"yeah? sure."
the bright smile that stretches on your face feels like a reward to chan. you make your way over, placing yourself on his lap while facing him; thankfully, chan's chair is big enough for you to practically straddle him in a comfortable position. you wrap your arms around his shoulders and nuzzle yourself into his neck.
"you can go back to work now," you say, your voice muffled from the pressure of your lips against his skin.
chan can't help the lopsided smile that makes its way to his lips. he also can't help the way his whole body seems to relax with your touch; the longer he feels the warmth radiating off your body onto his, the more he feels the tension in his muscles deteriorating slowly. the feeling of your body pressed against his, his arms outstretched to continue typing or writing in his notebook, feels comforting.
moments pass when chan's room is quiet, and the occasional noise of chan typing on the keyboard, picking up or placing his pencil down to scratch down who knows what in his notebook. at the same time, you're still perched on his lap, your arms comfortably draped around him, and your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck and shoulder.
chan isn't sure if the arguing with han and changbin or if the feeling of you in his arms sparked some ideas to come out of him and onto paper, but he would like to say both. despite the heated atmosphere and half-hearted words thrown around, he doesn't want to feel like that argument was completely unnecessary and a waste of time; instead, he wants to see it as a bump in the road that shows him how he can continue to improve as a friend, producer, bandmate and a person as a whole.
meanwhile, you're thinking about how comfortable you feel in the position your in right now, and how you could probably fall asleep at this moment. sure, maybe your back will hurt when you wake up, but right now, you feel your whole body relax in your boyfriend's arms. a couple moments later, your eyes are half open and you felt yourself falling asleep, but you jump a little in shock when you feel both of chan's hands sprawled on your back. his hands rub your back gently and comfortingly before he circles his arms around your body and pulls you closer. a deep sigh escaping his lips as he holds you, his eyes falling shut for a few seconds. chan turns his head, kissing the side of your head on your hair.
"thank you," he whispers, placing another gentle kiss as his hands rub circles on your back again.
you respond in a small, quiet and slightly sleepy voice, "for what?"
chan shrugs, "for this. being here."
you nod, pausing for a moment before you say, "i ran into changbin and han in the hall."
you feel your boyfriend tense up in your arms. you begin to reciprocate his comforting action as you trace circles on his back with the pads of your thumbs, his muscles relaxing under your gentle caresses. you continue to speak in a soft, timid manner that only chan can hear since your lips are so close to his ear.
"i know you're under a lot of stress and pressure preparing for the album," you begin, "i get that you're frustrated, but can you please not speak to me like that?"
the man feels his heart drop listening to your words. his mind rewinds back to when he heard the door opening, and how his first instinct was to bark and scold whoever came into the studio uninvited. chan remembers how you blinked and gave him a small smile, trying to hide your surprise, but it was evident in how your eyes widened the slightest bit for a split second before returning to normal.
you and chan sit in silence; he's dwelling on your words while you're still tracing circles into his back with your thumbs. chan wants to say that he didn't know you were the one coming into the studio, to use that as a defence, but he knows how weak that is–that regardless of who came into the room, he shouldn't have let his frustrations blow over, flipping out and greeting them by raising his voice. sure, his emotions were high, which is a factor in how he acted earlier, but he can't use that as an excuse to get away with snapping at people who have nothing to do with what he's emotional about.
you feel chan nod, and he says softly, "i'm sorry." you go to say that it's okay, but chan interrupts, "it's not, though. even if i didn't mean to speak to you that way, i still need to figure out how to regulate and control my emotions."
"you're human," you say, "when emotions are high, it's hard to find a way to keep them under control all the time. but the fact that you recognize your mistake–that's a lot more than many people can say."
chan pulls you even closer against him, if it's even possible, "i'll try my best though. i'll speak to you at a normal volume, respectfully and saying sweet things. that's what my girl deserves."
your cheeks heat up at the way chan calls you 'his girl'.
"thank you," chan repeats.
this time, you pull away, sitting up straight to look at chan's face, your eyes meeting his soft ones. his hands rub up and down your sides slowly, a slight smile on his lips. you cock your head in confusion, "for what?"
"you always know the right thing to say," chan moves one of his hands up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, keeping his hand on your cheek gently and the pad of his thumb swiping over the skin, "i love you."
you're blushing even harder now, "i love you too."
chan uses the hand on your cheek to guide your face so your lips meet his halfway for a sweet kiss. after quite a while, a smile breaks out on your face at the feeling of his soft pink and plump lips against yours. your hands move to hold either side of his neck, and the two of you spend the next couple of moments sharing tender kisses and giggles in between.
in the midst of all of the kisses, you and chan are gazing down at each other when he brushes your hair away again. this time, he opens his mouth to speak with flushed cheeks, "i'm starting to think han and his suggestions were right; it'll be better to build on something we already have and improve on it than to force ourselves to start from scratch and continue to hit a dead end."
you brush chan's hair out of his forehead, and he continues.
"my head was too far up my ass to consider his suggestion," chan purses his lips together, and his eyes flash with regret as he recalls the words thrown around between him and the younger producer earlier. chan lets himself linger in his head again before voicing his concerns, "do you think they'll forgive me?"
you nod.
"really? you're not just saying that?"
you nod again, and this time, you explain, "as long as you can identify and acknowledge where you went wrong and what you did wrong, and sincerely and genuinely apologize–which i know you feel sincerely and genuinely apologetic for–i believe they'll forgive you."
chan's eyelids flutter quickly as he thinks, nodding as he fully processes your words. still, a wave of nervousness washes over him at the possibility that han and changbin won't forgive him.
"they're your brothers," you snap him out of his thoughts, "brothers fight, but at the end of the day, they still love each other."
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wazzappp · 11 hours
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ALRIGHT WE BALL. Time to get on with the story (i have a story planned thats. a real shocker. im ass at writing but ill get this drawn damnit I promise)
This argument is one that just needed to happen. Robbie cant think of the infected he's been killing as people because that would mean he has killed a truly UNCOUNTABLE AMOUNT OF PEOPLE. Lisa has done what she has to in order to survive, and that includes killing the un-infected (which, of course, to Robbie is totally unacceptable). So when he's trying to explain the difference it just comes across JUDGY AS HELL. They're both proud and defensive and bad communicators and the conversation goes BADLY.
This happens while they're on their way to the Beneviento house. Lisa basically goes 'Alright if youre so high and mighty go ahead and beat this one yourself then!' and fucks off back to Duke with the intention to kill as many Lycans in the way as physically possible. Robbie goes ahead to the SPOOKY NIGHTMARE HOUSE trust me I have plans for what he sees in there and its appropriately disturbing but it also spoils the ending I have planned for this whole thing so :) hang in there.
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BUT he ends up having a BAD TIME when he's trying to head back and what @rokhal suggested slotted in SO VERY NICE HERE (i feel i have sufficiently LOST MY MIND over the fic you posted i am JKSL:FJSDFDS F UCk)
'Picturing Robbie alone in the Village foraging for gunpowder and cash (because it's a Video Game and they can't just hang out in Donna Benaviento's house throwing the creepy dolls in the river while waiting for rescue after reconnecting the phone lines, no, they have to wander around the entire map) and he's saving the herbs for Gabe and using all the chem fluid for sniper rifle ammo or whatever. And he's fighting off werewolves and it's fine because apparently his health regenerates like mana because he's made of mold.
But as he's wandering around it starts to get harder and harder to remember how much cash and scrap he needs. And he keeps missing shots. And then he gets a little turned around but now he's lost and there's more fkn werewolves, and he's seriously low on ammo and he just wants to get back to Gabe, but he needs to regroup and his hands are numb so he tries to warm them at one of the villager's stoves.
And then he discovers that he's slowly turning into a mindless mold creature, and realizes that the only way to keep Gabe safe from him is to get really really really lost, so lost he'll never find his way back before something kills and eats him.
This does not work, but it does ensure that he is incoherent and barely recognizable by the time Gabe and Lisa track him down.'
Which is all MWAH. CHEFS KISS.
Anyway Robbie is gone for a WHILE and Lisa realizes that the puzzles she needs to solve to move the fuck on require 2 people so she's stuck killing any lycans that stray too close to Dukes camp and hanging out with Gabe. UNTIL, of course, Gabe decides yeah no fuck this fuck that Robbie has been away for WAY to long and I'm going after him. Only problem is that Gabe's abilities are kinda rooted too wherever his sclerotia pods (is adding pods to that redundant? whatever we ball) have had enough time to take root and grow. Meaning, despite her anger towards Robbie at the moment, if Lisa doesen't want Gabe caught, dragged to Mother Miranda and dismembered, she's gotta go with him (also featuring @moosemonstrous hilarious idea of her being proud of Gabe's attempted intimidation).
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When they DO track him down he's barely awake. He keeps wandering in one direction then looks like he wants to turn around and go another but he keeps FORCING HIMSELF to go the other way (generally I think he would be a decent bit stronger, but fighting his instincts this hard make him seem more aimless. Robbie is borderline unstoppable when trying to get to his brother, but right now he's NOT trying to get to his brother. you feel me?). Lisa goes up first to make sure he's not going to lose his shit or something. He basically falls onto her with the single saddest "m'sorry" ever heard on planet Earth. If it's for FALLING on her or if its for the CONVERSATION earlier, Lisa isn't quite sure. But it's been years since anyone has apologized to her for anything and thats enough for her to decide she should at least sling him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes back to Dukes camp.
They make it back to the Dukes camp and give Robbie a couple of med kits (GOOP JUICE!!!!!) and he's a little more coherent. He's still trying to stay away from Gabe even though everything in him is saying 'STAY CLOSE' but he's got SOME brain space available because at least he's in line of sight now. Scrambled brain time is not the BEST for trying at an apology but hey, Robbie isn't really known for his great ideas and he tries anyway.
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(ft me being unwell about shoving them together)
They're on better terms after this. The communication is still weird but hey its them so everything is weird. Plus they get some extra bonding time because I also snatched rokhals OTHER suggestion of
'....Been thinking maybe The Duke has a recipe that would heal Robbie...requiring meat from a golden dancing fish and the breast of the blue bird that haunts the graveyard and the tenderloin of the magnificent boar that sires all the swine in the Village...or something. So Gabe and Lisa have to go hunting while keeping Robbie calm...'
Ah yes. the high end flesh of the Great Village Fuck Boar. Delightful.
Cause I mean he's BETTER but still not GREAT. I think now that he's with Gabe he would be unable to leave him again while like this. Gabe would HAVE to go with them (we can get >:] 'Robbie goes into an overprotective frenzy and sword hands himself to hack some poor lycan that got too close in half' its a good time [its not. sword hand is very disturbing to him])
So anyway what Im TRYING to say is that the brainworms will continue
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Omniscient Reader Fic recs:
Kimcom time travels force feed Kim Dokja love:
1.
This is that one fic that will make you cry and smile at the same time. It is one of the crackiest angst I have ever read. It is a fic that made me so happy, yet so terribly sad. But all in all, this is a fic that will make you laugh. And make you remember/ fall in love with the characters all over again. It's a wip sadly, but each chapter is so damn lovely, that I just keep going back and read over and over again.
2.
This is a soft, soft fic, it's also the fic that made me fall in love with damn premise of Kim Dokja getting love before the apocalypse. It is a fic about dokja realizing that he is loved. It is a fic that I wish to see completed one day — but I doubt it would be 😭 but the chapters that are out are again, very satisfying. And I loved it.
3.
“You are loved,” said Yoo Jonghyuk. “This is a threat,” said Yoo Jonghyuk.
This is a fic that is already really popular but this is a fic I'd recommend people to read after finishing the epilogue. Because it is gives you those soft fuzzy feelings, it sews back the torn heart that is caused by the actual book and it makes you believe in everything that is good in the world. This is fic where everyone is happy and Dokja is with them. And basically everything I ever wanted.
(these are sadly the only fics I remember reading with the premise of kimcom going back to the past 😭 but yeah they made an impression on me and I don't think I can recover.)
Moving on to the fics I'd recommend after the reading the novel as in post-epilogue:
Post-epilogue fics to heal your heart:
This is a fic I would recommend a 100 times over to anyone who would listen. This is the first fic I ever bookmarked, even after having an ao3 for YEARS, first fic I ever commented and in general one of my most favorite fic to ever written. This is a fic that healed me, that made me remember everything about I loved omniscient reader, that made me so happy that I have no words. To me, this fic is the epilogue they all got, the happy ending they deserved and it will always be canon to my mind. The way the writer wrote all of them made me cry and I'd always forever be grateful that this fic was written.
This fic is also every healing, and it hurts so damn good. The way the author build up the emotions, kimcom bonding and literally everything. The way the author writes their relationship and the way Dokja perceives them. This fic deserves so much more recognition. It is beautiful and it's also very healing. And soft with harsh edges that is soothed as you keep reading. It's basically Kim Dokja getting to learn love without his memories, it's about baby dokja healing and it is about kimcom being desperate to teach dokja that he isn't alone.
This is just soft, soft and soft. This is just fluffy, this is just what they all deserve. This is another fic that deserves so much more. This is just another dose of happiness, to read when you're having a bad day. The way the author writes the relationship between each characters, the slow healing, the love that comes so easy between them because they went through the end of the world together is fucking beautiful.
I bookmarked this on September 2022 and I still cry when I re-read it. This is a beautiful piece of how healing takes time, and how hard learning to love yourself can be and how beautiful this fic is and how I'd always hold it close to my heart no matter what. This piece also deserves so much more. This is a fic about how even after reaching the end, healing can seem out of reach. It is a fic about patience and love and just beautiul.
This is again another fic that deserves so much. This is such a beautiful depictions how healing hurts. How it is a long damn road and sometimes you might stumble and it is hard. It might be a long road but when you finally begin healing and when you learn to finally trust — isn't that the most beautiful thing ever?
I'm surprised this fic isn't more popular honestly. This is one of the fics that depicts how ugly healing. And how it is so painful painful painful when the person you love more than the world itself doesn't realize their worth and they still try. And also joonghyuk has a garden????!!!! This fic is wrapped up so beautifully and leaves on such a hopeful note. It's written really well, and the characters are so beautiful, so damn real.
-
(ANYWAYS I'll just rec these one's for now LMAO I mostly tried to rec underrated ones bc they are hidden gems, and they deserve love too. I'll make a separate post for orv Isekai/alternate world/modern world fics that needs more love because there's A LOT underrated gems. This post is mostly dedicated to @rozz-eokkk @cielelyse ; since they asked for it and I'm so sorry it took so long 😭 )
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bi-buckrights · 2 days
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20 Questions for Fic Writers
Tagged by the lovely @hippolotamus thank you my friend 💕
How many works do you have on ao3?
Just 12! I started writing almost a year and a half ago and I am very slow lmao
What's your total ao3 word count?
204,888
What fandoms do you write for?
Just 9-1-1! Honestly haven't felt the urge to write for any others.
Top five fics by kudos:
Bottled Poetry
Pick a Star on the Dark Horizon (Follow the Light)
You and Me Here (underneath the mistletoe)
Home is Just Another Word for You
Kiss Me Before it's Over (If Only for a Minute)
Do you respond to comments?
Yes!! Comments make my day so I love responding to them! Although I am very far behind...
What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I have to have write happy endings so I can't really answer this 😂
What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Also difficult to answer since they are all happy endings... but I think that Pick a Star on the Dark Horizon (Follow the Light) has the most rewarding happy ending after all the angst I put them through 😅
Do you get hate on fics?
Mehh I've gotten a few somewhat rude comments but thankfully nothing notable
Do you write smut?
I dabble... particularly in my FWB baseball au 😏 and my upcoming pirate au 😌
Craziest crossover:
I don't foresee myself writing any crossovers asdkfjh
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I know of...
Have you ever had a fic translated?
I don't think so, but I would be honored if someone wanted to translate one of my fics!
Have you ever cowritten a fic before?
No, my writing schedule is too unpredictable and I feel so bad if someone is relying on me 😭
All time favourite ship?
Buddie!! Obviously. But I have been loving Bucktommy, and Destiel will always have my heart.
What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
I don't know if my beloved wedding fic will ever return to from the war... Different first meeting, Buck and Eddie reunite at Madney's wedding.
What are your writing strengths?
Umm. uh. pass? I honestly dont know adsfkjh but I like writing multichapter fics and weaving the different parts of the story together (idk if I'm any good at it though lmaooo)
What are your writing weaknesses?
Actually writing... asdfkjlh
Thoughts on dialogue in another language?
I've never added it but I know if I ever needed to include it for any reason I know I could consult my lovely spanish speaking friends <333
First fandom you wrote in?
9-1-1!
Favorite fic you've written?
ohhh not to be repetitive about this fic but probably Pick a Star on the Dark Horizon (Follow the Light), my army marriage of convenience au which is very personal and special to me ❤️
Tagging @monsterrae1 @prettyboybuckley @rogerzsteven @loserdiaz @saybiwithme
@spotsandsocks @eddiebabygirldiaz @hoodie-buck @exhuastedpigeon @bidisasterevankinard
@bekkachaos @loveyouanyway @elvensorceress @spaceprincessem
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turtletaubwrites · 3 days
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✨1,000 Followers Celebration!!✨
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I can't describe how much being part of this community has meant to me. The first fic I posted here was in November in the middle of some major health and life crises (which I talk about in my about me post if you'd like to know), and I honestly don't know how I would have gotten through it without all of your support and encouragement, as well as all the laughs and good times that y'all have shared with me.
It blows my mind that there are 1,000 of you here 🤯🤯🤯 I'm so grateful for all the love, it means the world to me! 🖤🙏🏼
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Here's what I've got going on:
I wanted to plan something extra special for this milestone, but y'all have been following me faster than I can write! For the 900 milestone I decided to circle back around to Numbers Game since it was the most requested fic, and I'm so happy that the bad men of the Cross Guild seem to be hitting the spot 😅
WIP Updates
I keep my current and upcoming wips + announcements listed on my pinned Masterlist post, and here's what I've got at the moment:
Numbers Game ~ Part 13 will be out later today!
Current WIPS: Numbers Game 14, and We've All Got Needs 28 Upcoming WIPS: Misty Eyes 6, 1 request, Wrong Side of the Bars 2, a few WAGN extra scenes, and 4 requests that came in while they were closed) Announcements: Requests will remain closed until I complete the next batch of Numbers Game, as well as the requests on my list. I'm sorry for the delay, I keep turning them into multi-chaptered fics! If you've submitted a request, know that it is on my list, and I've already started outlining!
New Fic Rec Masterlist
I have been reading some amazing fics lately, please check out my new Fic Rec Masterlist, and show the authors some love!!
Fic & Personal Playlists
I never made playlists for writing until I was tagged in an ask game, and it was so fun! Typically my brain will only let me listen to the same 1-10 songs over and over for a month or more, lol. So in addition to the fic playlists I'm starting, I've made a playlist of my current hyperfixation songs if you'd like to check in on the sounds looping through my head that week 😅 Plus a dump playlist where I'm slowly adding all the past hyperfixation songs I can remember because sometimes I need to pull one back in when there's a void, lol. I love getting song recs too! This reminds me of hooking up my dingy little ipod nano (that I still have, his name is Desmond 🥰) to all of my friend's computers to steal their music since I couldn't afford to buy my own 😅
TurtleTaub Current Hyperfixation Playlist TurtleTaub All the Fixation's Playlist Misty Eyes ~ Law x Reader Playlist Bend Until You Break ~ Playlist More to come, and feel free to send me song recs, they make me so happy 🥰🎶
Next Fic Poll
To celebrate this milestone I'm going to write one of the requests/wips of your choice that I've got on the books next.
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