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flowermiist · 3 months

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A warm heart - II

Click here to check out past chapters if you haven’t ♡

Pairing: John Price x Fem!Reader

Sypnosis: Some time ago, you started a cooking channel on YouTube as a way to relax, have a proper hobby and teach others your favorite recipes as you improved your own culinary skills too. Fame wasn't something you wanted, you were more than happy with your 50k subscribers... Yet you never thought you'd stumble upon one of them.

Word count: 3k

A/N: Hii!! I’m really excited for this chapter (as with every other) I’d like to apologize if this took me more time than I intended, work has been quite heavy lately but all the kind comments make me smile soo much. Enjoy!! And please don’t forget to like, reblog and let me know your thoughts about this chapter if you’d like!

After leaving your car at Harrison’s garage, you take an uber home. The mechanic told you it would take about three days to properly fix what was wrong with the engine, you didn’t give it much thought.

You sit in the back seat of the Uber and place your grocery bags on your lap, you sigh and open your purse, seeing the small note with John’s number – It was written on an old receipt the man managed to find in one of the pockets of his jeans, using a black pen you always keep in the glove compartment of your car.

You sink back into your thoughts while looking out the window. You don’t know whether to call his number or not, you sigh and keep thinking, as intense as it might sound, you know that if you call his number and he doesn’t pick up, you’ll be too embarrassed to ever attempt to call him again – You promise yourself that if he doesn’t pick up, you won’t call again.

It wasn’t like you wanted anything other than to thank him again properly for helping you back there. John was nice, yes, but he was still a stranger and you didn’t really know much about him.

You turn your head to the other window and realize you’ve reached your destiny, you pay the grumpy driver and make your way into place.

The charms hanging from the keychain jingle as you open the front door. You sigh and close the door behind you, locking it before you start walking towards the kitchen with the grocery bags in hand as well as your personal bag that has the receipt with the phone number of certain man – you make sure to place the groceries where they belong and you kneel down to the drawers of the counter where you store the bags you used, might come handy anytime.

The tripod is still on the counter where you left it. You check the battery of your camera before grabbing the ingredients for the homemade sourdough bread you’ve been preparing for your next video.

So after washing and drying your hands, you re-adjust the camera to the tripod and begin recording the process, making sure the lightning looks good enough.

When you try to start the small oven to preheat it and have it ready for the bread, it does not respond which makes you confused since last time you used it, which was over a week ago, it had been working – not anymore, apparently.

What is going on? Why is everything you own acting up? First the car now the fucking oven, great.

Not wanting to get pissed any further, you choose to use the oven of your stove which of course, was bigger and would take more time to heat up.

This was going to be a long night for sure.

John finishes putting the clean dishes away, the TV in the background with some History Channel show he was not paying attention to, but it was just the background noise he wanted.

Not particularly interested in what the telly had to offer anymore, he turns it off and does the same with the lights of the living room as well.

John Price has always had a pretty strict rule for himself and for his house, to turn off every light he wasn’t using – except for the old lamp he had in his living room next to the couch but besides from that one lamp, every other room that was not being used did not need any artificial lighting.

As he’s about to walk towards the stairs, the man remembers the laundry he had put in the dryer earlier, he had completely forgotten about it – “Fucking ’ell…” the words escape his lips as he clicks his tongue in annoyance and moves towards the uility room of his house, where the clothes should be.

After opening the small lid of the dryer, John places the clean clothes in the basket, grabs the old iron and the ironing board. He has never liked to leave things to the last minute, never liked to do things in a hurry and do them badly. John knows it’s better to iron the clean clothes now rather than leave them all wrinkly and forgotten.

Placing the ironing board in the living room, he folds out the winkly t-shirt and connects the iron, waiting for it to start producing enough heat and get this shit over with as soon as possible.

Some steam appears and he grabs the handle, making smooth movements with the iron, moving it from from the neck to the short sleeve of the green cotton t-shirt.

Looking back at it, the material is still the same, wrinkly and with obvious creases. John gathers his patience and moves the iron again, using a rough hand to stretch the fabric more and trying to press one of the buttons to make more heat yet nothing happens.

His mind drifts towards today’s events as all he can hear is the sound of the iron against the clothes – Your smile was still in the back of his mind and the thought of the big possibility of you not calling his number crosses his mind. Was he too forward? Would you call?

Without noticing, he moves the iron over his thumb and part of the back of his hand, groaning out in pain loudly as the sharp pain immediately hits him. John quickly grabs his left wrist. “God fuckin’ damnit, old fucking thing!” – Endless insults rumble through his chest, escaping through gritted teeth as the man is scrunching up his face with discomfort looking at the back of his hand where the bright red mark on his thumb throbs.

The smell of burning fabric and steam catches his attention again, looking down at the iron burning his shirt he quickly grabs it and places it vertically, taking a moment to manage the anger rising inside him, his face almost red.

John lifts up the green t-shirt, his gaze darkens as he sees the dark hole over the sleeve of the fabric. “Awesome.” He states with anger and sarcasm as he throws the t-shirt on the floor and unplugs the iron, contemplating smashing it against the wall for a single second but knowing it won’t solve anything.

Breathing through his nose while calming down, he walks to the kitchen sink, gritting his teeth in discomfort as he washes the burning part of his left hand – A first degree burn, nothing he can’t handle.

The basket with clothes ready to be ironed remains forgotten as John grabs one of the aid kits he keeps inside one of his kitchen counters. The man clearly has experience with dealing with these superficial wounds as he loosely wraps some of the bandage around it, covering the red area.

“What a muppet.” He grits through his teeth, directed to nobody but himself.

When you finally finish the video, you look at the clock, it is around 21:30 and you are tired, however; you aren’t too tired to go to bed just yet – and besides that, there’s still something you want to do before going to bed or rather someone you want to talk to.

The bread has such a good smell, freshly baked as you cut a big piece and put some cheese, tomato slices and arugula over it before biting and almost melting at the delicious flavor filling your palate.

You walk towards your bedroom and open the drawer of the nightstand right next to your bed to grab the pack of cigarettes on the second drawer. You were never a smoker but you liked the taste of nicotine on your mouth from time to time, especially after such a long day like this one.

You open all the windows to make sure the smell does not stay inside the apartment, you may like the taste and how the nicotine relaxes your mind but you still find the smell of it sticking to your clothes absolutely annoying.

Walking back to the living room, you grab our purse as the cigarette remains between your lips, the string of smoke and the smell over you now, your eyes open more when you look at the old receipt with the man’s number and smile, grabbing the cigarette from your lips and exhaling the smoke out of you.

At this point, all you are wearing is a pair of gray lacy underwear and a white tank top.

You look at the wrinkled paper and gather some courage before you dial the number and press on the green phone icon to call.

John sits on his back porch, a cigar between his index and middle finger.

His attention is immediately caught when he hears the ringing sound of his phone back in the living room, where he left it before moving to wash the dishes. Who would be calling him at this time of the night if it was not work related?

He grunts as his knees crack when he stands up and walks back inside, seeing the “unknown” contact and quietly staring at the number. Could it be?... No, he does not want to get his hopes up.

“Hello?” A hoarse, masculine voice speaks through the line with a tone full of curiosity and some clear seriousness, you immediately smile, holding the cigarette as sink down on the swing chair of your balcony.

“Hope it isn’t too late.” You say, bringing your hand closer to your mouth and position and the nail of your right thumb between your teeth when you hear a low chuckle. He recognized your voice, of course he would.

“How are you?” The man immediately asks after you stop talking – If you were able to see him, you’d see the way he scratches the beard on his cheek and goes back to his porch, a small smile between his thin lips.

“I’m good…” There’s a small silence before you speak again, keeping the phone close to your ear with your left hand. “Wanted to thank you again for everything, you know…”

John hums in acknowledgement – “No need to thank me, it was quite an honor for me to help my cooking teacher…” Is he flirting? No, that has to be a trick your mind wants to play with you for fun.

“How’s the car, eh? Hope it didn’t stop in the middle of the road.” He slightly tilts his head to the side while speaking, changing the topic rather fast.

“Well… I left it with the mechanic, won’t have it for a few days – took an uber home.”

You could have asked me to drive you home – He wants to say as he takes a puff of the thick cigar between his fingers. Of course, he would not rush into anything. He was still a stranger to you after all and the thought of possibly sounding creepy cringes him.

“Sounds like you had quite the battle then, with all those grocery bags?” His tone makes you chuckle and that gives him some relief yet he doesn’t want to think much of this call for now.

“I did, actually. Came home and filmed my next video.” You say, forgetting about the cigarette between your fingers and you move your hand away from your face.

“Mhm… Next recipe then?”

“Yes.”

“May I know ’bout it?”

“Nope.”

John chuckles quietly and it makes you smile.

“It’s a surprise...” The calmness of your voice is clear and it resonates in his ears.

“I don’t mind waiting then.” His voice is just as calm as yours.

There’s a comfortable silence through the line when the question pops out and you decide to ask it, to learn more about him.

“You said you had experience with changing tires.”

“Indeed.” John responds, giving you silence of his own for you to speak.

“Well, you got me wondering if you were actually my mechanic in disguise.” It lights up the mood a little bit when you hear a breathy smile. John grins before replying.

“I could be, you never know…”

“Where did you get the experience?”

He thinks of his answer...

“Different places ’round the world.” It’s vague and definitely not enough for you to figure him out completely and you are eager to do so.

A hum sounds through your throat, you take a drag of your cigarette and exhale. Not keeping the smoke inside for too long.

“You travel a lot?”

“Quite a lot, yes.” His voice is still calm. John is pondering whether he should say more or leave it at that, he is not the most open man when it comes to his line of work.

“Business men travel a lot.” The suggestion arises in the air when your words are spoken.

“They do, don’t they?” The sarcasm he uses answers absolutely nothing, he’s messing with you and you can clearly tell he finds it funny.

“Maybe you’re a famous lawyer traveling from one boring conference to another…” Another one of your suggestions.

John can’t help but grin a little at your response – “No, nothing like that.”

“Doctor?”

“No, not that either.”

You sigh, you won’t deny this is entertaining but you were getting nowhere so you give it one final try – “Well... They say military men travel a lot... Are you one of them?”

“Correct.” A calm voice replies and you try not to cheer loudly at finally guessing a part of this man’s life.

“So you’re in the military?” You want to make sure you’re right, even if he was clear and brief.

“I am.”

The line goes quiet before you break the silence.

“Explains a lot then.” You try to sound unimpressed as you shrug and it does get to him because now he’s curious.

“Does it?” He moves the cigar to his lips again, taking a puff and looking up at the dark sky.

The phone call hides the teasing smile painted over your lips. “Yeah, you look it.”

Before John can question your words any further, you change the topic.

“I’m pretty sure there are evil gnomes messing with my stuff.”

Your words don’t fail to impress him as he exhales smoke through his nostrils.

“You believe in that stuff?” The thick british accent and his raspy masculine voice could not be more noticeable as he tries not to sound rude while making fun of your possible beliefs.

A chuckle escapes your lips and you pretend to act offended by his selection of words “And what if I do?” A brief pause – “First my car then my oven…”

It catches his attention, John tilts his head like some curious dog and keeps the phone pressed against his ear.

“Did the secret recipe go wrong?”

“Well, almost.” You sigh and elaborate. “So I got this… smaller oven, easier to use compared to the bigger one that comes with the stove but as I tried to preheat it, it stopped responding.” “I’ll have to get a new one tomorrow.”

With a sigh, you get up from the swing and get closer to have a view of the street under your building, you take another drag of your cigarette as you place your elbows on the frame of the balcony, feeling the cold breeze embrace your exposed thighs and caress your almost naked arms, moving your hair with it.

“Could help you look for a new one.” The same husky voice sounds through the speaker of your phone. John’s eyes dart around his back yard, a man like him is never fully off guard. No matter where.

“You’ve already helped me enough… I- don’t really want to bother you.” There’s some embarrassment in the tone you use, looking up at the dark night sky while exhaling a slow – thin string of smoke out of your lips.

The man gazes at his bandaged thumb then at his fingers holding the cigar.

“Wouldn’t mind a shopping expedition, could use one m’self.”

This catches your attention, curiosity enters your mind. “Yeah?”

John won’t admit the fact that he burnt his hand with the old iron because he was distracted, he would rather lie that sound like a fool.

“Got this old iron at home, burnt my bloody hand while trying to use it, burnt my goddamn t-shirt too.” Some embarrassment makes the british man scrunch up his face, he doesn’t want to sound like a potty mouth.

He clears his throat before continuing – “Would be good to kill two birds in a stone, ya get your oven and I get my iron… Some advice could be useful too – ’bout the iron, ’course...”

A small smile escapes your lips as you reply to the man on the line - “Sounds like a good plan then...”

“Sounds like it.”

“Could drive you to the store with me if that’s alright.”

Right, you haven’t thought about how you’d get there.

“Will need one.” Of course you will, dummy, You don’t have your car with you – Says that little voice within your head, the one that tries to prevent you from saying too much.

His deep voice is heard again through the speaker of your phone. “Right, no problem.”

John replies, his tone monotone and casual about it which you’re thankful for.

“What time can I pick you up at? Got all day.”

“I get out of work at five, a friend will drop me off at home… Is six too late for you?”

“Don’t worry ’bout it, six ’s fine.” John says calmly and you smile.

“I’ll text you the address then.” You sit back on the hanging chair as the wind moves your hair and you squish the head of the cigarette against the ashtray placed on the small glass table of your balcony.

“Six it is then.” That voice rumbles through his chest and without even knowing you just put your cigarette away, he sticks the head of the cigar against the wood of his porch, leaving a small mark, putting his own cigar away almost at the same time as you.

“Good night, John.”

“Sleep tight, Y/N.”

Taglist: @bumblebeesfromvenus @thesevi0lentdelights @zekes-beard @blckbrrybasket @shuttlelauncher81 @thychuvaluswife @airzonaaa @mamanmae @cadotoast @ateliefloresdaprimavera @heyitsmarimari @markitvz @live-love-be-unique @syoddeye @hyriefortuno (Let me know im the comments if you’d like to be added! Dm me for removals! ♡)

#captain price #john price #call of duty #john price x reader #cod #cod mw2 #captain price x reader #captain price x you #cod x reader #writing

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rapunzelbro · 2 months

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I saw u have nothing for velvette so,, maybe her and reader are friends and she’s genuinely impressed by them but refuses to say it directly and just. gives them a lot of gifts dhdksjd

Velvette Being Friends with You

This is my first time writing for Velvette and I would love feedback on this! Anywho! Enjoy~

Masterlist Request to be tagged Velvette

You would meet Velvette by her finding your modeling Sinstagram profile

She’s more impressed with your following and how tf she didn’t find out was beyond her

Like 20k?

Shut the fuck up is she fucking blind?

You would post about the latest styles and trends and all while talking about Velvette’s new styles and showing your own designs based on the trends she had started, which impressed her genuinely

She wouldn’t admit it because you’d have her fucked up if you think she would

You wouldn’t reach out but she would after your latest post and design you made based on hers

You internally freak tf out because you’re worried she is was going to yell at you for talking about her designs when she asked to set a meeting up with the two of you

Cue you and her having that meeting and you’re scared shitless, that you don’t even post and your followers lowkey freak

When you first meet her she’s late by 10 minutes but honestly it gives time for you to calm down

“So like, why haven’t I heard of you and why the fuck aren’t you working for me? You’re actually decent”

She’s super straight to the point, looking up from her phone to look at you looking over at your features

She’s full of judgement??? Like holy shit??

After talking you finally begin to work under her for designing.

Unlike her other employees she tends to spend the most time around you, curious of your abilities and what you have to bring to the table

Oh and she stalks the fuck out of your Sinstagram account. She doesn’t want you bashing her behind her back, not that you would. You admire the hell out of her

Would probably force you to make a post of the two of you and your followers would freak and shoot up over night to 50k.

Outside of work she often would ask you to stay and help with ideas. Well not ask, force you and wait for your creative input and act like she doesn’t like what you say but she really likes it.

Months would go by before you two officially are friends, or what she considers to be friends, it’s hard to tell with her.

You two make your own collab together that honestly is so fucking awesome.

But she says it’s annoying working with someone else and it’s stupid

She secretly loves it so much but won’t tell you

You’ll find new sketchbooks and pencils at your desk constantly as well as the highest quality fabrics to work with

You never know where it comes from but you know it’s her but don’t thank her she’ll just deny it

“You think I did that? Piss off”

She waits for your reaction and hopes you like it

Oh and she would never let you meet Vox and Valentino because fuck them, you’re her friend not theirs

Being friends with her is.. interesting to say the least

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ohtobeleah · 3 months

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Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Eleven: [The Man]

Summary: When Jake and Jensen go head to head over who means what yo you, things escalate to new heights, so much so that Jake lashes out and says something that may not be forgiven.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Mentions of religion. JEALOUS JAKE!

Word Count: 5.6K

Author Note: This chapter brings the total word count of this series to 50k....I cannot believe that an idea that began as a one-shot has turned into this. Thank you all so much for your support on this one. xxx

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

There was a brief moment right before your shower where Jake was able to step out into the hall to call his sister Jasmine. He knew the call he was about to make was going to be neither short, nor pleasant. But he also knew that deep down, you weren’t mentally prepared to tell your children you were sick. But the pair of you had to start somewhere. And that somewhere was Jake’s sister.

“What the FUCK is going on!” One single ring. One dial. That's how long it took Jake's sister to answer, hell, Jake thought it would have been sooner but he gave her a little good grace for potentially having to step out of whatever family dynamic she found herself in. “Mum said Y/n’s sick?”

“Did she say it like that?” Jake replied unamused as he found an empty chair to sit on in the waiting room area down the hall. He didn't want to stray too far away from your room. Although he knew that you were with the nurses, he couldn't find it inside himself to leave. If Jake tried hard enough, he could still see your bed socks at the end of your hospital bed.

“Uh–” Jasmine's apprehensive silence confirmed all Jake needed to know. “She may have said it with a little hope in her chest, mentioned the words dropped and dead in the same sentence of wishful thinking.” Jake couldn’t say he was surprised after the way Janeen had spoken so poorly about you directly to his face. He couldn't really imagine what she’d been saying to other members of the Seresin family. “But what's going on? I'm keeping an eye on the kids as much as I can but holy shit mum's just on a warpath–”

Fuck: Jake knew leaving the kids behind was a bad idea on his behalf. The guilt of running off on his children in the middle of the night was beginning to eat him alive. The idea of lying to them about your condition only made that guilt harder to rationalise.

“Okay, can you just promise me you won’t tell the kids?” Jake groaned into the phone. “Y/n doesn't want them to worry so she doesn't want to say too much.”

“Jake–” Jasmine's voice changed, the serious nature of the conversation at hand was beginning to shine through with ease. “She's alright, isn't she?” Jasmine asked as Jake let his elbows rest on top of his thighs. This whole situation, the newly found world of which you were living in was begging to give Jake the head spins. Keeping up was exhausting, but this wasn't about Jake now was it. “This is Y/n we’re talking about, she has to be alright.”

Unbeknownst to you, Jake had been reading all your files, all your reports, everything and anything he could get his hands on about your diagnosis. After all, he had been named your emergency contact not long after showing up. He’d made a convincing case. Jake knew a lot about your current situation. He knew the odds, chances, risks and possibilities.

“She's been diagnosed with Stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma.” Jake explained to his sister who on the other end of the call, sat watching his youngest try to eat the sand from the sandpit Jake himself used to shit in as a child. “The oral chemo they had her started on caused a stroke, apparently it's a common side effect, to me they shouldn't be pumping people full of that crap if its gonna cause a fucking stroke forty percent of the time.”

Jake knew the silence on the other end of the line was due to an overload of information getting caught in his sister's cerebellum. It was a lot to take in, hell Jake still hadn’t really been given an opportunity to take it all in. since he found out he’d been go go go. He knew an impending moment of weakness mixed with overall exhaustion was coming. When that moment would come he wasn't sure.

“You’re lying–” Was all Jasmine said. Jake wished more than anything he could say he was.

“Fucked up thing to lie about Jas–” Jake responded softly as he listened to the hustle and bustle of the hospital wing his sat in. “She hadn’t been feeling well for a few months, Doctors say it's aggressive, feeds off her hormones and stuff.” Jake didn't understand a lot of it, but he was trying his best to navigate a field he wasn't an excerpt in. “She's in for a preventative double mastectomy on Christmas Eve. It would've been earlier but the strokes kinda set her back a few days.”

“Jake– I don't believe you, the kids–what about the kids, what do I tell them?” Jasmine couldn't comprehend the devastation this would cause on the already struggling family dynamic. You and Jake were meant to be, everyone knew that. But this whole separation, the miscommunication and overall fractures within your marriage were all major contributing factors as to why love just couldn’t be enough.

“Don't tell them anything, please, for the love of God Jas don't tell them anything, I just–” Jake let out a sigh of frustration as he ran his hand free hand through his hair. God he needed a haircut. “We just need a little time to process what's going on and Y/n–she's been doing this for too long on her own, I can’t keep letting her down so just, take a moment to breathe for me.”

“Holy fuck you aren’t kidding about any of this are you?” Jasmine with all her good graces and problematic marital issues of her own, looked over at where her husband sat with hers and Jake's father. The sight was enough to send a shiver down her spine. The man who raised her was not someone who Jasmine ever wanted her brother to become. Losing your wife to such a disease that was as unforgiving as it was inhumane could potentially be an origin story bubbling under the surface of Jake's skin.

“Jake–You don't get to turn into dad if this ends anything less than Y/n walking away from this cancer free Jake, your kids deserve to have a dad that won't treat them like burdens and mistakes.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“Watch your step alright?” Our skulls are designed to cushion our brains. Our rib cages are specifically moulded to guard our hearts. The human body is built to protect our most vulnerable parts. At least, that’s how it’s supposed to work.

The way in which Jake helped to guide you out of the bathroom with his hand pressed firmly against the small of your back made your heart skip a beat. You held tightly onto his forearm with one hand and in the other? Was your IV poll, still pumping you full of antibiotics and fluids.

“I got it.” You tried to focus on just putting one foot in front of the other. That's what this whole thing was about right? This battle, this fight. It was all about putting one foot in front of the other. With Jake by your side, albeit with some underlying resentment still to be discussed, you felt as though those steps, small but meaningful in their own right, were made with intent and purpose to keep fighting. “Shit the air-con feels so weird on my head.” You chuckled to yourself as Jake shut the bathroom door behind the both of you.

“Yeah holy shit it's like–” As Jake's eyeline faltered from you to the figure standing over near the door, his heart sunk into his stomach. His face turned to stone as the green in his eyes, usually an emerald colour, darkened to something more pine-like. The half finished sentence that left your husband's mouth and tailed off into complete and utter silence was what got your attention the most. It wasn't like Jake to not say what was on his mind.

“What's up?” As you turned your head slowly, you saw the man who had been nothing but a pillar of support for you to lean on since your diagnosis. It was the man who had kept you above water when you felt like you’d been drowning in a sea of unprecedented mortality. “Jensen–” The shock and excitement in your tone was something Jake couldn't miss no matter how much he wanted to. “You came?”

Jake made no attempt to move as you shuffled forward, he stood still with his heart hammering inside his chest. He stood completely still as his thoughts carried him away into a world where nothing made sense to anyone. Into a world where he didn't have you, a world where for the last year he’d tasted of that very misery and hated every last second of it.

“I uh–” Jensen held out the bouquet of sweet peas, peonies and pansies he’d brought for you. The overwhelming colours and signature scents captivated the entire room with their freshness. “I wanted to stop by, see how you were doing, hope I'm not intruding?”

The body tends to adapt quickly to new circumstances and pressures it’s put under. It knows how to protect itself. But it can’t close off completely, or well—we’re not really living are we? Biology tends to override our fears, so we leave the door open, just a little…hoping like hell that it's worth the risk.

“Oh no, no we just finished up some DIY haircuts.” You beamed, the smile that ignited across your face was a smile Jake hadn't seen in years. A smile so pure and full of love that it couldn't ever be faked. “Jake, this is Jensen.” You introduced the two men who had played significant roles in your life, having no clue that they had both already met one another in the hall. “We met at the doctors office, as unfortunate as that sounds, it's been really nice to have someone who just, knows.” Jake slowly but surely aided you over to your bed before he made his way over to where Jensen stood watching idly. Assessing the situation unfolding before him. “Jensen convinced me to go to a few of those CCA meetings, although not my cup of tea–it's nice to know that that support system is there.”

Jake eyed Jensen and his bouquet of flowers off as he stepped closer and closer with a look Jensen couldn't quite read in his pine green eyes. The betrayal of love often has boundaries that people end up living with for the rest of their lives. For Jake, his betrayal and the consequences of his emotional ineptitude inside his marriage was starting to play out right before his very eyes.

He saw the potential that there was in fact another man. And oh boy did he hate it.

“And Jensen, this is Jake, my husband.” Jensen took subtle notice of the way you introduced Jake to him as your husband, not your ex-husband like you'd been referring to him as since the two of you first met. Something had changed, Jensen could sense it. But for as much as Jensen could sense the chemistry between you and Jake, Jake could see the way your eyes lit up with overjoyous surprise when you realised that the flowers Jensen held in his hand were in fact for you. “Are those, are those for me?”

“Oh–yeah.” Jensen beamed as he walked a little further into your room. “I thought they might bring a little light into your room but it seems that you have it pretty well decorated.” It was the small nod to the Christmas lights that hung around your room that made you smile even brighter as Jake made his way back over and helped you into bed. You could tell there was tension brewing just from his quietness alone. “And the new haircut suits you, good thing you don't have a weird ass head huh?”

“Hey Jarred–” Jake interrupted before you had a chance to reply, the way he intentionally called Jensen by a different name rubbed you the wrong way. The frown that cast itself across your face left little to Jake's imagination, but as he made sure you were as comfortable as could be in your bed, he kept going. “Nows, probably not a good time–”

Jensen looked around your room carefully, he knew the system well and what times were more common than not for nurses to do their daily rounds and check-ins. He knew that by the looks of things you had just showered and were probably settling in for the afternoon. If Jensen was correct in his assumption as he looked back towards where Jake stood at your bedside, he would assume that he couldn't have picked a better time to drop by.

“Seems like a pretty good time to me man, besides, why don't we let Y/n here make that call.” Jensen replied calmly as he went about finding a place for your flowers to go. Jensen could have played the safe card, he could have chosen to be the bigger person and not mention it, but he didn't really have a hell of alot to lose. After all, he was a dead man walking. What was the harm in stirring the pot a little where he still could. “Honestly, I didn't expect you to be here if I'm being completely honest.” Jensen smirked as he turned back to face Jake. You felt like your heart was about to explode right through your chest as you looked back and forth between the two men who had seemingly gotten into a mines bigger than yours contest on either side of your bedside. “Didn't think you knew your wife was sick–”

The silence was deafening as Jake thought about all the ways he could kill a man in one single motion. The rage he felt inside his chest was red hot jealousy. Jensen could practically see the steam spewing out of Jake's years.

“What my wife decides to share with me has nothing to do with you–” Jake growled, you could just see the way he was grinding his teeth. Jake's jawline had never seemed more profound. His knuckles were almost entirely white as he leaned against the railing of your hospital bed. Lowered down for convenience of getting in and out.

“It does when I’ve been the one listening to how much she wishes you loved her the same way she loves you.” Jensen shrugged. “Come on man, don't play this game, don't pretend that I don't know what been going on–”

“Enough!” You couldn't have shouted it slider if you tried. “Both of you, my god we’re all supposed to be adults here?” You sighed as you looked at Jake and then over to Jensen. Something was off with him, this wasn't the Jensen you knew. He seemed off, very off. “Can you two just back up, let's start over.” However, it was a plea that fell on deaf ears.

Remember that impending moment of weakness mixed with overall exhaustion Jake mentioned earlier? Yeah– about that. Guess it was coming around the corner sooner rather than later.

“Nah–” Jake shook his head as he let out a sigh. This was bullshit, you really had him fooled. He really did think that there was a possibility here that maybe, just maybe, the two of you could fix what he had unintentionally broken while focusing on your health. “Nah, I'm not gonna put up with this dickhead.” Jake hissed as unclenched his hands from the railing on your bed. “I'm gonna go get a coffee, try not to catch each other's cancer cells while I'm gone.”

“Jake, don't leave!” You begged as you sat up a little straighter in your bed. “Please—“ The panic that followed was something otherworldly as you watched Jake round out of the hospital room that had become your home away from home. “Please!”

Jensen was if anything, enraged. He hadn’t helped the situation but he never would have left your side after making a remark so thickly lacquered with jealousy. He didn't think Jake would react the way he did, so quick to make assumptions. The small gift Jensen still held in his hand was quickly placed on your bedside table.

“I’ll go talk to him—“ Jensen pressed his lips together as he let his hand fall gently to your shoulder. “My fault, I shouldn't have said what I did, I'm sorry.” Jensen didn't pretend to not see how upset you truly were. He understood what it was like to feel the weight of the world crushing your spirit. “He didn't mean what he said Y/n.”

“He did–” You sighed as you wiped away your tears. “He asked me when he came to take the kids to his mum's house if I was seeing anyone–”

Ah, Jensen thought to himself as he stood by your bedside and listened.

“He wants to get back together, fix what's broken, change.” You sighed as you looked over to the open door that Jake hadn't long before walked out of. “He probably thinks you're more than a friend.” In another life, perhaps Jensen could have been more than just a good friend. In another universe somewhere he hoped that maybe you never had this unforgiving disease. But this wasn't another reality, this was right now.

“All the more reason to fight for his girl.” Jensen cooed as he leaned in to kiss the top of your now very smooth head. “I'll go talk to your husband.”

You caught onto the not so subtle subtlety of the way Jensen teased that title. Husband. Jake Seresin was still very much your husband. He was the very definition of a man who was supposed to be at your side through thick and thin. But right now? You were doubting his ability to fully comprehend what was happening to you. Jake’s focus shouldn’t have been on Jensen and who he was to you. But yet you couldn’t not defend him.

“He’s not a bad guy, he’s really not—“ There was an awkward silence that lingered in the room as Jensen chose to take in what you’d said. “This is all just so much for him to take in.”

“You don’t need to explain your relationship to me.” Jensen wanted to say that if Jake was such an alright guy, then you wouldn’t have left. He wanted to remind you of all the conversations the two of you had had over the past few months. All the times you’d cried about the man who didn’t value your time, your energy, your love. “But a woman like you should never have to beg a man to stay.”

“I left him.” You felt the need to remind the man who stood at your bedside with an ora surrounding him you didn’t recognise. “I stopped begging him to love me a long time ago and you know that.”

Jensen could have thrown the fact you just called out after Jake back in your face, that you’d begged your husband not to leave. But he wasn’t that mean. He was just looking out for you. Someone had to. Someone had to make sure this Jake guy had his priorities in check and that you were at the very top of that list where you belonged.

“I know—“ Jensen pressed his lips together into a fine line. “But that guy just walked out the second things got a little more complicated, what’s gonna stop him from throwing in the towel if your health declines more than it already has?” Jensen shrugged his shoulders like he wasn’t being nasty. It was his version of tough love.

“I’m sorry—“ You scoffed as your face contorted into that of a frown mixed with frustration. “Are you, are you testing Jake?”

“Cancer is one of the world's most leading causes of divorce.” Jensen added like it was a statistic you should have known. He knew you knew it. “I just wanted to see how well he handled a little external pressure.”

“You’re—“ Before you could finish your sentence, Jensen was smiling down at you from ear to ear.

“A menace, I know, but I’m a menace that only has your best interest at heart.” Jensen explained as he sat down beside you for only a brief moment. “Your fight isn’t with Jake right now, he shouldn’t be fighting you or anyone else in your life that may come and go.”

“Jensen—“ You knew Jensen hadn’t been well, but he hadn’t explicitly told you how bad it was. There was something in his eyes though, the way he looked at you like he was looking at you for the last time that had you worried. “What’s going on with you?”

“I’m just making sure if you’re letting that man back into your life that he’s gonna stick around when things don’t go the way he wants them to.” Jensen smiled softly as he picked up your hand to bring towards his lips. He left a fleeting kiss upon the palm of your hand and let out a sigh he wasn’t aware he was holding in. “I’ll go track down your sook of a husband, make sure he’s aware that you’re hopelessly devoted or whatever you wanna call it.”

“Please be nice—“ You pleaded gently as Jensen stood from your bedside. “Please.”

“Anything for you Y/n.” Jensen replied, he knew that this would be the last time he ever saw you apart from in his own version of heaven. “Anything for you.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~*

Jake Seresin had never been a fan of hospitals. That mentality first started when he broke his leg in kindergarten and needed a full cast, but it grew with him well into adulthood. Jake had never liked hospitals, even when all three of his children were born he still hated them. Not even the love he had for his children could override the hate he felt towards the sterile environment that gave far too many infections to people to be considered ‘normal’

“Seresin.” But Jake had never hated hospitals more than he did the second he heard his last name being called from just a short distance down the hall. Called by a man who Jake would happily like to never see again. “The hell is your problem?” Jake caught the sight of the man who’d brought you flowers coming right towards him with a fire burning in his eyes. The man you had kept somewhat a secret from Jake. Much like your diagnosis.

“My problem is asking me what my problem is.” Jake groaned as he took a sip of his shitty ass hospital coffee. “Don’t you and my wife have things to talk about?” Jake asked as he took a few steps away from where Jensen had stopped in his tracks. “Things I’m not privy to as it seems? Like her health or new love life?”

“You don’t even know who I am to your wife!” Jensen barked loud enough to have Jake stopping in the middle of the hall. The six foot something aviator turned slowly on his heels to give the almost matching in height bald dude the time of day he seemed to crave. “But I know all about you, because I’ve been there for Y/n while you’ve been busy playing part time parent across the country.” Jensen had nothing to lose, he was just a dying man who had no time left to cherish.

Jake wasn’t about to stand here and take this. He didn’t need some guy who’d stepped into your life to tell him what to do. You were the mother of Jake’s children, you’d always be that to him regardless if he could fix what he broke.

“Get out of my face before you need a plastics consult.” Jake growled through gritted teeth all the while Jensen grinned. He was standing his ground as Jake continued on his defensive. “Because so help me god, you may feel like god right now with your self-righteous heart and knight in shining armour attitude, but you sure as hell won’t feel all high and mighty when you meet him.”

Jensen didn't want to fight with your husband, but he did want to make it known that time was forever fleeting, and if Jake kept going the way he was there would be no time left to fix what he broke. You needed someone to be there for you, Jake had to be that person.

Because Jensen couldn’t be that guy for you anymore, he had no fight left to give you. He had no fight left in himself.

“You know I sympathise with you Jake, I do, it must be hard being the guy who broke your own marriage to a woman who loves so fiercely and so much.” Jensen started as he let his elbows rest atop his sweatpants clad knees. “And now having to deal with the fact that said wife is dying must be a lot to work through.”

Jake remained speechless as his eyes lingered down to the man who was almost out of breath from his walk through the halls. He held his half drunk coffee cup in his hand with enough rage coursing through his veins that Jake was actually surprised he hadn’t crushed the flimsy cardboard vessel.

“But you know what the worst part of all that is? Is that your priority isn’t your wife, or fixing your marriage—“ Jensen continued on. “No, it’s on the guy who your wife chose to confide in when you were nowhere to be found.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jake replied with a hiss in his tone that mimicked the deadliest of snakes. “I couldn’t give a shit who you are to her or what you want, because she’s my fucking wife—mine!”

“And yet here you are arguing that point with me in the hall when you could be at her bedside appreciating all the small moments you’ll be lucky to look back on one day.” Jensen grew more heated as Jake took a few strides his way, towering over where Jensen sat. “You threw a fit the second I stepped into that room without using any critical thinking skills you aviators claim to have in the heat of the moment.”

“She told me she wasn’t seeing anyone! Come to find out that that’s—“ Jake didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before Jensen intervened that train of thought.

“She’s not! You’re wife fucking love’s you!! She kept her prognosis from you because she was so scared you didn’t love her back enough to fucking care! And you’re hung up on the idea she’s seeing someone? Me!?” Jensen scoffed as he stood, the few strides he took towards Jake were made with intent behind every single one. Enough to have Jake stumbling back every so slightly. “Here’s a concept for you man.” Jensen pressed his index finger into Jake’s sternum. “Maybe, just maybe, if I was sleeping with your wife, she’d remember her worth.”

“You really don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jake sighed, there was no way he was entertaining this delusion any more than he already had. “I think you should leave.” The idea of you being with another man sent Jake into a blind rage of jealousy that saw no reason. But at the end of the day, he was the one who walked out on you. He’d strayed too far from your hospital room and couldn’t see your bed socks anymore.

Fuck….

“Maybe, maybe I should—“ Jensen agreed. “And hell I don’t even know you at all, but from what I’ve managed to piece together? it’s that you're a crap husband who doesn’t have the emotional capacity to handle the fact his wife could lose this battle.” Jensen retaliated with a stone cold expression. “But something I do know is that no amount of prayer or candles or begging will reverse time, so put your ego side and focus on the fact your wife needs you now more than ever before and if you leave her side the way you did today ever again, trust me when I say you’ll regret it every day of your life.”

“Y/n isn’t dying—“ Much like Jensen was taking his fear of the unknown out on Jake, Jake was just about ready to let loose on the guy who was picking apart his very character. Sure, Jake recognised he wasn’t the best husband, but he also knew you weren’t dying. Not right now, not while he wasn’t by your side.

“I wasn’t either, but as it turns out we all have an expiry date.” Jensen replied. The atmosphere and energy surrounding the two men who were going head to head suddenly shifted. “Some sooner than others, but we all have one, and when yours is up yours is up and there ain't nothing you can do you extend it.”

“You’re—“ Jake couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“A walking corpse.” Jensen finished the sentence he knew Jake was trying to speak into existence. Although he didn’t care to beat around the bush. “So trust me when I tell you that wishful thinking does shit when your body decides it’s had enough.”

“Does Y/n know?” Jake's first worry was how this news, how this detrimental turn of events, would affect you. His heart forgot how to beat inside his chest when he watched Jensen shake his head in response.

“She needs to focus on her own journey, and before I go I need to make sure she has a support system because for a while there I was all she seemed to have.” Jensen explained. There it was, the truth of the matter.

Jake saw it clear as day, the care, the worry, the intention to make sure you had someone there for you because Jensen wasn’t going to be there anymore. You may not have slept with the guy standing before Jake but if Jake knew anything, it was the look of a man who was unequivocally in love with you. He saw his own reflection of Jensen's eyes.

“Go back, apologies, and you fix your marriage man because that woman? That electrifying woman who sees the good in everything doesn’t deserve to go through this alone—and you turning your back on her the second someone made things a little difficult for you isn’t a good representation of the husband she deserves.”

“You love her, don’t you?” Jake asked as he took a second to truly take in Jensens whole argument. The world seemed to go on around them, with doctors and nurses carrying out their daily duties and rounds. Family members walking to and from rooms visiting loved ones. But for Jake and Jensen? The world stopped when it came to you. “You’re in love with my wife, say it.” Jake couldn’t hide the pain in his voice. “Tell me you love her, then this all makes sense.”

“Maybe—“ Jensen tried to play his love for you down into something that was just a social construct. “Maybe I love her, but I don’t get a chance to explore that, you do though.” Jensen was truly trying to hide the pain in his eyes, but Jake could see it all too easily. Jensen knew that. “So if not for yourself, for her, pull your head out of your ass man—“

“I never stopped loving her though.” Jake sighed out in frustration as he sat down on one of the plastic hospital chairs that lined the hallway. Jensen followed soon after, both men decided that the heat of the argument was settling into something more valuable. “I just—I lost sight of what I had.”

“That’s just not a good enough excuse.” Jensen replied as he let his head fall back against the wall. “Listen, I don’t plan on coming back after I leave today.”

Jake didn’t respond, he simply waited for Jensen to explain. But the explanation never came and Jake never pressed. If anything he was kind of relieved in a selfish way.

“If you truly want to fix what’s broken, if you really want to fight for her and be by her side when she needs you the most, you’ll get up and you’ll go back in there and you’ll be the guy who gets to hold her like no one else does.” Jensen pauses momentarily before he continued on. “Because there’s better guys out there Jake, and she shouldn’t have to settle for one who doesn’t appreciate what’s right under his damn nose.”

“Is this your way of telling me you’re a better man than me?” Jake asked cautiously, a part of him didn’t want the answer to be yes. But Jake needed to know what the man sitting beside him truly thought. You saw something good inside him, inside both of them.

“I’m not a better man than you Jake—“ Jensen sighed as he stood from his chair. It was getting late, he had said his peace, he had put the fear for a dying man inside Jake Seresin. There wasn’t much more Jensen could contribute to your life besides what he had already given.

“I’m just a man who’s run out of time and has nothing left to lose.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @fanficfandomlove @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog

@goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb @kmc1989

#was it over? // jake seresin #tw: cancer #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin imagine

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theminecraftbee · 2 months

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so, first, accountability statement: I plan on trying to finish the “zedaph steals a baby” fic by the end of the month and god is that one-line summary no longer accurate but we’re sticking to it, said here publicly so now I have to do it. obviously I also have recursive exchange and the writing I have for hotguy comics zine, but I am not SUPER worried about either of those time/inspiration-wise at the moment and also for Reasons I know it won’t be long until I have more free writing time after that, SO.

various items that are on my potential writing docket, I am curious which of these appeal most:

I dust off the supervillain support group au. two ways this could go: I chip away at the second arc of my original outline and acknowledge this will be like a 300k fic I’m not ready to feel “done” with or “ready to post” with for ages, or I re-work it into something a little more doable and less ambitious keeping the same premise (ren runs a support group for supervillains, doc pov as he starts to heal and redeem himself). this MAY honestly be a target for “if I don’t hate the first 50k on re-reading it and I can actually make my brain write the second arc, do a slower release schedule and then start releasing chapters before I’m done writing”? but this ALSO runs the risk of “I stopped writing it, which is often a sign I was having trouble writing it”.

pearl monster au, which has been cooking in my head for a long while. the basic premise is “one day, pearl, with no memory of how or why this happened, wakes up in a facility as a monster and must try to figure out how she got there, escape, and find her way home, even knowing she may be irrevocably changed”. now with bonus season 10 fish flavor to add to this creature design I’ve been iterating on in my head for forever! this one is ALSO an experiment for me in “can I write a fic where I can’t write dialogue for basically the entire first act”, which would be interesting to see from me, you know?

the related “bigb folklore au”, where after secret life bigb is woken up by Cat and Dog by the tracks of the King Snake, which bigb can recognize as the railroad track, and decides to journey down the railroad to see if he can figure out what the fuck is going on. I need to do video review of life series bigb for this one. this is my excuse to get Weird and Metaphorical and also assign everyone to various animals for no reason, along with using some very specific aesthetic I have wanted to use for some worldbuilding but hadn’t gotten around to yet in any of my stuff. man walks through the desert with animal, confronts train that might be the watchers, might be death, and might just be a train. also, realizes that “confront” is the operative word there and has to deal with that. you know how it is.

““office au””, in air quotes because it’s not REALLY what anyone going to an office au is looking for so much as an excuse to write weird horror. iskall, normal-ish software developer man in a boring office job who does game jams in his free time, goes to work one day to work in his boring downtown office on a payment system for a client. and then things, uh, Take A Turn. this would be a LITTLE me going “what if I wrote an au with a guy who works in tech but like, the boring side of tech I’m in. like, banks and consulting and manufacturing and shit. where you sit in meetings all day and tweak java 8 code even though that language is ten years out of date. but THEN. something exciting happens in the worst way possible.” I’m doing to iskall what I did to mumbo stuffed bird is what I’m saying. it’d be fun.

DO ANY OF THESE PARTICULARLY INTEREST ANYONE. your input will be valued. like 50% chance i get hit with a strong bolt of inspiration then IGNORE that input but it’ll be valued all the same,

#note that me telling you about these ideas is ALSO accountability #on account of both ‘anyone can make whatever based on my things forever’ meaning one of you could make one now #and on account of people will start asking me about them on rare occasion now lol

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atruththatyoudeny · 1 month

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Happy 28th! Here are all the amazing fics I read this month:

Hiding Green Smiles | HoldingOnToChaos | [45k] Louis’ heart is racing in his chest. The idea of temporary bonding—letting Harry bite down right on that spot without it being a real bond—makes his mouth go dry. He didn’t even know something like this existed! His mind fills with all the possibilities and questions. What’s it going to feel like? How will it affect his orgasms? How will it affect Harry’s knot? What parts of a bond does it simulate? When Louis goes with Liam to a hidden sex shop, he discovers a new sex toy, the BiteMat, and he can't believe his luck. He loves being bitten, has a biting kink, even, and now he can be bitten over his bonding spot without the fear of anything permanent. He hastily buys it to try with Harry, his friend and roommate, and his regular heat/rut partner for the last eighteen months. They've been friends-with-benefits outside heat or rut for eight months now, and Louis' been desperately in love with Harry for at least five of those months. -- Or the BiteMat fic

Secrets in Winter | softfonds | [82k] If Harry Styles thought he was going to have a peaceful winter while staying far away from the rake who lived across the street, he was sorely wrong on two fronts. A Victorian AU.

Don't Change Me | Sharyn28 | [157k] Once in every fifty years, the moon shines brightly over the town of Holmes Chapel for 24 hours. The moment it turns red, any alpha pack leader becomes incredibly and outrageously powerful. For approximately two hours until it subsides, the alpha has the power to change any secondary gender. For example, an alpha can turn another alpha into a beta or omega and so forth. It doesn't matter if the chosen person agrees or disagrees, they have no choice. Once the decision is made, there is no turning back. All it takes to seal the deal...is the alphas howl to the moon, proclaiming their intentions as they stand around a bonfire, where the change will take place immediately. How is Louis going to react when his best friend and alpha leader retracts his alpha status, turning him into an omega so they can mate? Especially when Harry doesn't talk to him about it first.

Drop and Draws - What a feeling | Elmeiko88 | [50k] Ever since he presented as an Alpha, Harry can't stop drawing the same person over again. Louis, since long before he presented as an Omega, has always had behavioural problems... When Niall sees one of Harry's drawings, it becomes clear that these two must meet, and quickly. Everything should be easy, shouldn't it? Except, perhaps, Louis is on the other side of the Atlantic, firmly attached to Ricky...

You Could Give That Aspirin the Headache of Its Life | LetTheMusicMoveYou | [3.6k] Louis had once heard that the chances of being struck by lightning are 1 in 700,000. He wonders now, how those odds compare to randomly being seated next to your ex boyfriend on a 10 hour flight. Honestly, if the universe is going to insist on ruining his life, he really would have preferred the lightning thing. (Or the one where Louis is a football player who gets stuck on a flight with his ex-boyfriend Harry. The universe might be conspiring against him, or is it?)

The Room Thief | 2tiedships2 | [12k] Louis: Can I come over? Need your help. Niall: Did someone die? I don’t need to help you bury a body do I? Wait, did you behead one of your alpha flatmates? I hope it was the one that smells like cherries. That is such a weird scent for an alpha. It’s disturbing. And I can’t even smell it. Louis: I’ve just been kicked out. Can I crash on your couch? Niall: Zayn’s in class. I’m here so get over here NOW. Louis: Thanks mate. Gonna pack a few things and will head over. Be there in about a half hour. --- When Louis comes home and is confronted by his knothead alpha flatmates, he knows it won’t result in anything good, but he didn’t expect to be left homeless, effective immediately. He definitely didn’t expect to fall for the specific knothead who stole his room.

i would know you from touch alone | staybeautiful | [73k] They had never been face to face before now. They’d never touched, skin to skin, until Harry landed a punch to his face, high on his cheekbone. Louis shoved him off and was pulling his fist back from Harry’s abdomen before he realized his face wasn’t tingling because of the pain. It pooled out from his cheek, over his face, down his neck and spine. A shiver in the late September night. Heat, sparks - whatever you wanted to fucking call it. or The Tomlinson and Cox gangs have hated each other for over forty years. Harry Styles, the grandson of Gritty Cox, was freshly back to the city after uni when, on his first night out, he punched the Tomlinson heir in the face. It shouldn’t have mattered, their gangs have done worse to each other. But all it took was one single touch to recognize your soulmate. Louis was adamant that being soulmates changed nothing, not who they were or which family they were loyal to. Or, at least, it shouldn’t have.

In Jest | LadyLondonderry | [4.8k] Louis, who smiles at Harry as he reclines in his chair. Louis, whose soulmark is visible thanks to his low-cut top. Louis, Harry’s soulmate, who seems to either be blissfully ignorant of that fact or maliciously ignoring it. Harry would really like to know which.

find a way (to send me a sign) | we_are_the_same | [666] Everything is dark, and Louis feels like he can’t breathe. For a moment, he is unsure what woke him up, until he hears it again. The soft buzzing of his phone on the bedside table. He pushes down the duvet that’s been covering his face and squints at the clock, the red digits telling him it’s exactly 3:00 AM. Rubbing at his eyes, Louis swallows back a yawn and reaches for his phone, intent on swiping the call away until he notices the name on the display. His heart jumps as he brings the phone to his ear. “Harry?”

Into The Mist | babyhoneyhslt | [63k] Sneaking on board the famous pirate ship Compass Arrow to get a story for his journalist father, Harry must do everything to keep a low profile. But when one of the crew discovers him, hiding from the ruthless Captain Tommo becomes almost impossible.

Tea Thyme | Fandom_Larry | [10k] In a town where omegas are expected to mate young, Harry finds himself still single. Instead of finding love, he chooses to live his life pining away for an alpha far above his class. That is until a mysterious courting gift shows up at his shop. What happens when he lets go of his dream and holds out for reality? Is it possible to still get everything he wants? Only the fates know.

Something About You Feels Like Home | MarWritesStuff (Ta_Ma) | [40k] When Harry starts paying attention, he feels his tummy fluttering. The singer is gorgeous in an almost ethereal way. He can tell that the man is an alpha just by looking at him, and he’s shocked to feel himself getting slightly wet. or The one in which Harry is a sheltered and inexperienced omega, brought up in a very traditional family, who just moved alone to London to finish his studies. There, he attends a concert by indie band The Rogue. Louis is the lead singer of The Rogue and is a bit tired of not finding a connection. Harry wants to let go of his family's rules and restraints, and Louis wants to find an omega to cherish and take care of.

#28th appreciation #fic rec #my fic rec #monthly fic rec #my reads #larry fics

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ladykailitha · 5 months

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Royal Pain Part 26

Hello, and we have got to the end of the massive arc that culminated the last four chapters.

I also wrote this part before 24 and 25 because I couldn't figure out how to write Eddie having a hard time on tour, but the aftermath flowed from my fingers.

Also as a reminder this story is finished, I'm just posting on a regular schedule. This story is the longest fanfic I've ever written. Topping out at 58165 it's definitely longer than 50K fic I wrote for NaNoWriMo last year (Sandman, never finished or published.)

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11 Pt 12 Pt 13 Pt 14 Pt 15 Pt 16 Pt 17 Pt 18 Pt 19 Pt 20 Pt 21 Meta Pt 22 Pt 23 Pt 24 Pt 25

****

“You’ve been sitting on that sofa for an entire week,” Wayne growled. “Steve has called three times, your bandmates at least a dozen times each. Hell, boy Miranda has been calling concerned. So want to tell me what’s fucking got you so twisted?”

“I was given a choice out there on the road,” Eddie said, twisting his rings around his fingers. “Stay in Indy and play small time gigs for the rest of my adult life or go to LA and get an album and the chance at super stardom.”

Wayne sat down next him. “Sounds like a big decision to make.”

Eddie leapt to his feet. “That’s the problem. That’s what makes me so angry how fucking easy the choice is.”

Wayne cocked his head to the side. “Sounds like you’ve got a lot on your plate again, boy. Start talking.”

Eddie started pacing back and forth. “As much as I loved playing for so many people, I didn’t like that I could only connect with a handful of them and not even the good kind.” He rubbed his chin angrily. “I didn’t like how tired we all were. It was set up, sound check, play, break down and move on to the next fucking town. And that wasn’t including all the parties, interviews, and all that other shit.”

“That does sound exhausting, Ed.”

“I didn’t like how easy it was for them to tell me to drop Gareth as drummer just because he had trouble adjusting to the increased volume. The price of fame they said. Like it was so simple to throw away almost two decades of friendship for the sake of adoring crowds and hearing our music on the radio.”

“Oh, darlin’,” Wayne said softly. “They didn’t...”

“Oh they absolutely did,” Eddie raged. “I didn’t like how they thought that because me and Steve’s relationship was new that I would be able to find someone better. Someone who liked metal, someone who would be down for the ride.”

Wayne furrowed his brow. “That doesn’t sound like good advice.”

Eddie grabbed his hair pulled at it frustration. “The last straw was when they offered to let their tattooist to finish my back tattoo, because while my artist was good, theirs was better.”

He stopped abruptly and turned to face Wayne. “I picked Steve to do my tattoo on my back because he was the only one I trusted to make it meaningful. To understand the symbolism of making something of yourself when everyone is rooting against you. I made the decision before I fell in love with him and now that we’re a couple– and for them to just dismiss him like that? It made me so angry.”

“So what’s the problem? What’s got you so twisted around the bend?”

Eddie took a deep breath and let it out slow. “I’m fucking furious because I always thought that when fame and fortune came knocking I would throw open that door and march right through it. But now? Given the choice? I’m slamming the door in its face and walking away.”

Hot tears ran down his face. “And I don’t know why.”

He dropped to his knees and began to sob.

Wayne stood up and put his arms around his nephew’s shoulders, gently pulling him to his chest.

“Did that band you were traveling with say that?” he whispered into Eddie’s curls. “Because if they did, I swear to god I will burn every record and CD you have of theirs. Don’t think I won’t. I’ll delete them off your phone too.”

Eddie chuckled weakly. “No, no. They were kind. It was everyone else we met. Agents, managers, roadies, groupies, the people around Metallica every day.”

Wayne nodded.

“I was just constantly bombarded with hateful messages and the constant running at one hundred percent...” he whimpered. “I don’t want to do it.”

“Have you told your band that?” Wayne asked.

Eddie shook his head. “I don’t dare to. I was the one that was gung ho about the touring and everything. How do I tell them I don’t want to leave the comfort of Indianapolis and home?”

“Kinda like that,” Jeff said from the doorway. His arms were crossed and he was leaning against the frame. Peaking around him was Miranda with a concerned look on her face.

Eddie scrambled to his feet and wrapped his arms around his waist. “I’m sorry I’ve been a brat.”

Jeff took three giant steps forward and hugged him fiercely. “You’re not being a brat. You’re scared and trying to figure it all out on your own, but you don’t have to, okay? We’ve all been worried sick about you. But Steve especially. I’ll call all the boys down for a chat and you call Steve, okay?”

Eddie nodded.

He dialed the number he knew by heart.

“Baby?” he asked, unsure of the reaction he was going to get. He deserved to be yelled at. Cursed at. Broken up with. He’d hurt Steve the most with this little temper tantrum he’d been having.

“Eds?” Steve breathed. “Sunshine, are you okay? Wayne said you hadn’t been eating well or sleeping much. Say the word and I’ll be there in a heartbeat.”

Eddie’s lip began to quiver and tears spilled out of his eyes. “I need you. More than anything.”

“I’m on my way,” Steve said fiercely.

Eddie looked over at Jeff.

“Tell Steve Brian will swing by and pick him up.”

Eddie nodded and relayed the message back to Steve.

“I’ll be at my apartment,” Steve said. “I’ll have Robin arrange my schedule, don’t you worry about thing, baby.”

“Mm’k.”

“I love you, Eds.”

Eddie closed his eyes and breathed in the warmth of that simple phrase. “Love you, too, pretty boy. Come quick.”

“I promise.”

Steve piled into Brian’s car. It was the newest, having bought it right before they got picked up by Metallica. He had finally saved up enough money to replace his beater.

Gareth and Gethin in the backseat. Gethin had come up to Indy to watch his twin’s apartment while he was gone and just ended up staying. He was currently looking for a job so that he could move in with Gareth full time.

At least that what they said on the trip down. The twins and Brian were intent on filling the air with talk and Steve let them. He let them fill him in on the tour and everything that had been going on since they’d left.

Steve couldn’t be for certain, but it sounded like that touring hadn’t been fun for anyone. Even after a week of rest, he could still make out the circles under their eyes and how hunched over they were with just sheer exhaustion.

A feeling Steve felt all too well.

Gethin was pressed against his twin’s side and was rubbing his neck soothingly.

Steve looked at Brian.

His face was set, hard and unflinching. He was going to make the drive to Hawkins as fast as he could and still avoid the cops.

Steve was grateful Brian was driving because he didn’t think he would have made the distinction to avoid breaking the law. He would have gunned it and flipped off any cop that tried to catch him.

After awhile, Steve was getting the oddest feeling that Brian was used to speeding down this stretch of highway because there were points where he would slow down for a few miles and then speed right back up.

Soon enough they were pulling up to Wayne’s trailer and piling out the car.

Eddie sat on the sofa with Jeff and Miranda on either side of him, just hugging him.

Wayne was busying himself in the kitchen, getting ready to feed the hoard that was about to descend on his home.

The door opened up and Brian, Gareth, and Gethin all stumbled through the entryway. Eddie was on his feet in an instant, Jeff and Miranda not far behind.

And then the trio at the door parted and there stood Steve. Looking just as tired and worn as Eddie felt.

“Stevie?” Eddie asked, taking a step toward him uncertainly.

Steve threw open his arms and Eddie ran straight into them. They wrapped their arms around each other and just sobbed.

“I’m here, Eds,” Steve murmured into Eddie’s neck. “I’m here. I love you so much.”

Eddie lifted his head and kissed him hard. “I love you, too. I regret leaving you behind, sweetheart. It nearly killed me. Every song I wrote was about you. About missing you. I don’t even want to leave you ever again, I can’t.”

The silence that followed that statement was deafening.

Steve led Eddie back over to couch and sat them both down. “Tell us everything, babe.”

And so Eddie did. He told them everything. Everything he had told Wayne, everything that had been weighing on his mind since they started touring. It all just came out in a flood.

They all listened patiently.

“Why didn’t you tell us you felt like that while we were on the road?” Gareth asked. “I knew what they were saying about me, but I also knew you guys wouldn’t drop me. If you had me about that I would have been able to reassure you that I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

Eddie flushed with embarrassment. “I didn’t know how to bring it up, it was so vile, man.”

Jeff gave his hand a squeeze. “Well, I think that you did a bang up job telling us now and that’s what really matters.”

“Someone offered to ship me out to LA and record an album,” Eddie finally admitted. “Not the band, just me. I told him that I wouldn’t go without you guys and he laughed in my face. Told me to cut the dead weight and be a star.” He dragged his hands over his face.

“But there were other offers. Good ones. Ones that included the band, well most of it, anyway. Always under the proviso that Gareth be replaced either on tour or all together. They didn’t want to make any accommodations for him even though there is a drummer with one god damn arm!”

“So the options are,” Brian said, “stay in Indy doing what we’ve been doing, only better because of the money we got for doing this tour. Go to LA without Gareth. Go to LA with Gareth but only as a studio musician and take some person we don’t know on tour with us. Does that sound about right?”

Just then Gareth’s phone went off. He looked at it with a frown. It wasn’t a number recognized so he let it go to voicemail. He pulled it up after the notification popped up.

He listened to message with wide eyes. “Hey guys, I think we have another option.” And he played the message so everyone could hear.

“Hey, Mr Hughes,” the tinny voice said through the speaker. “This is Murray Bauman, I’m music producer, we spoke in Las Vegas. I think I have the perfect deal for you boys. You were telling me that touring was really hard on you and that if there was an option you wouldn’t do that. I know you weren’t speaking for all your band, but I could tell that they would do anything for you, all four of you being such good friends.

“So the reason for this call is that I own a small music company in Bloomington and boy do I have a deal for you all. You would make a record through us, we would sell and distribute the record, keeping a portion of the sales, of course. But you wouldn’t have to tour. You have a steady gig as I understand it. If your fans want to see you play, they’ll know where to find you.

“But give me a call, we’ll hash out the details. My phone number is 555-555-2080...” and then message beeped, signaling the end of the voicemail.

Eddie looked down at the phone and then back up at Gareth. “Oh.”

Gareth grinned. “We don’t even have to take his offer, but I vote we listen to it. Brian can bring Cecil.”

Brian nodded. “He’s only got a semester left of law school, but I’ll have him brush up on his contract law to be on the safe side.”

Jeff raised his hand. “All in favor of hearing Mr Bauman out raise your hand?”

Eddie, Brian, and Gareth’s hands shot up.

“Sounds good,” Jeff said. “You call him back and set it up and if it doesn’t work out we can vote again.”

Brian shook his head. “Nah. I think if it doesn’t work, we stick to Nightmare Holes. We took a swing at it and if it’s a miss then we tried. I thought I wanted the touring and everything that came with stardom, but like Eddie I learned I wanted the romanticized version of it. I’ll be happy playing in front of our friends for the rest of our lives.��

The rest of the band nodded.

Soon everyone getting up to go back to Indy, but Steve stayed behind, he would go back up with Eddie in the morning. They had things to discuss that went deeper then the band.

****

Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

I told you I would fix it.

Also a little BTS, the reason in my head for why things went wrong on tour but immediately righted itself when Eddie and Steve met up again? Steve still has Eddie's lucky pick. ;)

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @bookworm0690 @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @aizawa-emma @yikes-a-bee @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @archermightbegay @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bestwifehaver @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @oldwitcheshat @nightmareglitter @tinyplanet95 @novelnovella @jonesn4coffee @slowandsteddie @awkwardgravity1 @steaddie-on

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #tattoo artist steve

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the-soliloquies-of-sadists · 11 months

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#365

“I just got the notice. It’s done. I never thought I would have seen a wire transfer of fifty thousand dollars into my account. OK shithead, you are for real. Get naked. I want to inspect my property. That’s what you are to me. You are a cunt. You are a toilet. You are a punching bag. You are whatever the fuck I want to make of you. Right now, I want you naked….

“I don’t give a shit about those two drivers over there. Leave your clothes right there, but hand me your phone. Look at the screen. I saw your post to Facebook. You were able to follow orders. The video was short and to the point. You let your family and friends know that you met a hot daddy that you are moving in with, and that you will be living off the grid and that you won’t be able to respond to anyone for a long time. You actually told them not to worry, that you trust me. That last part was a nice added touch.

“What’s your passcode?... I’m going to change it and then deactivate the facial recognition. Your phone will be locked away, but I will still need to access it from time to time—you know, for the $5,000 monthly payment to me. Which reminds me, what is your password for money transfers?... Ok. This is your first real test…. Yup that works. I’m going to change that code later.

“Stand up and turn around. Let me see what I own for the next year. Nice tiny pecker. Don’t like that it feels that it is free to get hard. I completely understand why it is hard. I’m that fucking hot. When I install you inside the cab, I’ll have a cage to put on it. It won’t come off too often, if ever.

“Are you naturally smooth, or do you shave your chest?... Good. No manly pelt for you, God made sure of it. Your pubes will come off in a bit too. Turn around, let me see my new fuck hole…. Nice and hairless. You douched out like I told you? Good. We’ll get you set up for cleaning out while on the road. How many times in the past week have you been bred?...

“Interesting. I don’t get it. You are quite cute. You seem to have no problem getting men to fuck you. You have money, enough to not only pay me over 100K across the next year, but you can take a year off to be tied up, roughed up, fucked up in the back cab of some unknown brutal asshole truck driver.

“I don’t know what you are running from. And I don’t care. What I do care about is I don’t want some drama creeping into my cab, during the year you are with me and the time after.

“Get on your knees and look up and into your phone’s camera. I want you to say the following in your own words. That you come here of your own choice. You are paying me $50,000 up front to live in cab with me, and $5,000 each month. This is non-refundable at any time. You want to be controlled by me in all aspect of your life. You know that I am a brutal sadistic man. Sex with me is not a guarantee and is not part of the money paid. I want you to beg on camera for me to brutally use you, sexually and otherwise. That includes using you anyway I see fit. You consent to all my demands. You can revoke it at any time and terminate our agreement. In fact you know either of us can terminate this role. If I do it, you will be left naked on the side of the road somewhere. If you do it for any reason, then you would gladly pay me a penalty of additional $50K, transferred from this phone. You will beg to be bound for most of the day. You will beg for me to humiliate you and degrade you. You got all that?

“Good. Now look at your phone’s camera…. Wait I should also get you on my camera too. Can’t be too cautious…. Focus your attention on your phone, and… go….

––––

“That’s done. So now let’s get you locked up properly in the cab. Come here. When crawling into my cab and I’m right behind you, pause and lean over my seat. Stick your pussy out. Let the world see your ass. I want to check out my new fuck hole.

“This is a pretty pussy. Oh there is some hair back here. Don’t start yelping now. I just yanked out a couple. There’s a lot more to pull out. What? You think I’m going to use my clippers on a pussy? Or your crotch? Fuck that. You’ll be fine with a yank or two… or twenty, or whatever it takes.

“If you are going to have an issue that I’m going to yank out your hair, this is not going to go well for you. If you can’t handle one minute with me, how the hell are you going to last for a year? You paid for one year to submit to a sadistic trucker with one the fattest cocks out there. Do you still want to do this? Or are you living in a fantasy world? If you want to bail, now is the time. I will pull out of here, leaving you naked without your phone. And I will definitely make sure that the penalty fee is transferred to my account before you can even make it over to one of those two drivers over there.

“What’s it going to be? Climb down and go over to them, or climb into the bunk on your back and get your legs up high. You have ten seconds to decide your next year.

“Atta faggot. When you get up there, you’ll see some ankle and wrist cuffs. Go ahead and put them on. I need to secure your shit.

––––

“Hey shithead. I talked with one of the other drivers who was watching you present yourself to me. He wants to fuck you. I told him that I will only let him if he’s brutal. He just smiled and said, ‘Ohhhhh I can do that.’ So it looks you got your first fuck customer.

“Damn you look good. But let’s get you secured. These wrist restraints get clipped here. You secure?... Good. Now this ankle goes over here. The hard one is this last ankle. The fags I secure always find this difficult…. Relax. Relax this leg. Fucker, just suffer through the pain. This is the pose you will be in as we drive across the country; your cunt leading the way.

“Now for this. See this. This is not your ordinary chastity cage. No this one flattens your dick head to just over half an inch. There is no way for you pull out. Your balls, as tiny as they are, are pushed in your taint region so that when you sit down, you will crush them. You won’t be able to get a hard on due to the pain it causes. This is going to hurt.

“Scream. I don’t give a fuck. This is going on. There! Now for the lock…. With that click, this is not coming off.

“Oh shit! He’s already here.

“Come on up…. I was about to cunt the fag. You can watch…. I just need to remove some of his pubes. Get over there so you can watch. I don’t use a clipper or anything like that. I just grab a hold of a tuft and yank it out. The faggots always scream when I do that. That’s music to my ears. Gets me rock hard.

“No, you can leave the curtain open. I don’t give a shit who sees me take ownership of this fagmeat. If the other driver wants to join, so be it. This is the pussy’s first moments submitting to me; he needs to know what’s in store for him for the next year.

“Hey shithead, open your fucking mouth. Eat your pubic hair. Chew and swallow. Everything that gets yanked out goes right into your mouth.

“That’s what you got to do to these fags. He knew that I am a sadistic bastard when he agreed to live with me for a year. He knew that’s what he was paying me for….

“Yeah, he paid me fifty thousand to ride with me and ride me…. No shit! And he’s paying me five thousand every month. Fuck yeah. The first transfer went through about ten minutes ago. A friend of mine told me that I should be charging for my fat cock. He told me about a site where this type of shit goes on. I posted that I’m a driver with a seven by eight-inch dick looking for a hole to fuck while on the road for the next year. I jokingly put a fifty-thousand-dollar price tag, and wouldn’t you know it within a week, this faggot replied. Once I showed him a pic of my cock and me next to my tractor, he wanted to throw money at me.

“Open up. Eat this last tuft. I will save the rest of your snatch for another time. It’s time for me to fuck this cunt. Let me show you the dick that will own your life. Look at it. It’s barely rock hard, and it’s already fatter than a beer can. You got me leaking boy. There is so much slop under my foreskin. You will be expected to clean me up every day, after every time I fuck you.

“Hand me some of that lube.

“Hey shithead. You ready to be cunted? The lube goes on for my pleasure, not yours….

“Scream fucker scream. Right to the root. Resist or accept me, I don’t give a shit. I’m going to dump my three-day load into you through all your screaming. You want me to cum faster, keep screaming. It ain’t going to take me long. First cuntings never do. Your pussy walls are like silk on my dick. Oh fuck. I’m gonna cum.

“Look up at me. You know I own you? You know this cunt is mine? Just nod. Good. You want this load? Of course, you do. It’s what you live for. It’s gonna cost you though. Look at my fist. Here comes your first black eye.

“BOOM! Fuck yeah. And I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum! Ahhhhhh! Ahhhhhh. Fuck yeah.

“Whew! That was fucking good. You’re up!... What? That bother you? Then don’t fuck him. I don’t give a shit. Besides, I love giving black eyes. My favorite part is making the fagmeat respond ‘I didn’t listen’ to any inquiry as to how it happened. Damn. Thinking about that is getting me hard again. He’s already starting to regain consciousness.

“Hey Shithead! Rise and shine in the summertime!

“Your dick is still hard. Go on. Fuck him…. Yeah, there you go. Go on give it to him. You said you would be brutal. Fuckin’ be brutal…. Yeah yank his nips right off. He needs to know the year of hell that lies in front of him.”

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bridenore · 8 months

Text

HD Books / Writing fic recs

Here are a few drarry fic recs involving books or writing. Listed in alphabetical order, as always.

Annus Mirabilis by Ren [39k]

Harry and Malfoy are trapped at Hogwarts around the time the school was founded. Stuck with a different way of doing magic, with no chocolate, and with each other, they have to find a way to work together if they want a chance to go home.

Dear Diary by AWickedMemory [20k]

// This can’t possibly go worse than the last time I kept a diary. // After the war, Harry picks up a journal to write in… and it writes back. Luckily, it’s not a Horcrux on the other end this time.

Faint Indirections by ignatiustrout [29k]

Draco Malfoy is the last person Harry expects to turn up in Boston, Massachussetts. But now he’s here, and he won’t stop requesting books from the library where Harry works.

He Who Must Not Be Normal by @letteredlettered [40k]

Potter has fame and fortune and posh clothes and all he wants is a simple life. Draco has a flat and a cat and a steady job and all he wants is a complicated life. Which makes you think this story has something exciting like body-swapping, but it doesn’t. Instead it has Indian takeaway and a blue jumper and people wanting a whole lot of what they can’t have, discovering themselves as they discover each other.

If We Were Honest by daisymondays / @gracie137blogs [26k]

Two years ago, Draco and Harry had a whirlwind secret romance that ended in heart-break. Since then Draco’s written a best-selling novel based on their relationship, but with one key difference—the characters get a happily ever after. Now Harry and Draco are reunited for the first time since their break-up, but can they rewrite their own ending?

Love Bites, Or How Draco Malfoy Learned to Let Go and Celebrate His Allure by @m0srael [50k]

Recently-turned Draco Malfoy is doing his very best to be a normal, productive, contributing member of wixen society. So far, he’s managed to keep his bloody little problem a secret, even from his best friends. But when the professional opportunity he’s been dreaming of finally falls in his lap, he finds himself with much more than just a potential promotion. Will a profile on a new creature-exclusive dating app, a wolfy stranger who seems hellbent on liking Draco just the way he is, and a little self-confidence help Draco finally love himself and his newfound community?

Orion in the Sky by space_wingding [30k]

Draco Malfoy owns a bookshop in the Lake District. He’s also cursed. Enter: Harry Potter.

Per Solum Lacuna: By Words Alone by Azhure [560k]

A set of enchanted journals bring solace to two very unlikely lost souls. Whoever said the art of penmanship was lost? This is a wizarding twist on the old fashioned art of correspondence (or the modern art of Internet chatting). What will happen when the mystery writers finally discover the identity of their counterpart? Join this star crossed pair as they obliviously chat to each other; along the way learning about life and love. Find out what will happen when their own voyages of self discovery lead them to the most unlikely of places. This is eventual HP/DM, but other pairings for the protagonists along their journey.

The Price We Pay for Wings by Frayach [13k]

Books have the power to shape young lives. At least that is the hope of the anonymous author of a best-selling series about a Muggle boy and his best friend on the eve of a world war. But stories do more than just shape the future: they can redress the wrongs of the past as well. But only as long as it’s not too late…

Reading Malfoy by @femmequixotic [15k]

After thirteen years of hiding himself away in Muggle London, Draco Malfoy shows up again in the wizarding world–with a wickedly amusing memoir in hand. Harry doesn’t want to read it. Really. He doesn’t.

The Romantic Prawn Who Loved Christmas by @bixgirl1 [39k]

When Draco, forced into sharing a room with Potter for the year, finds out that Potter has a sleepwalking problem, he expects the odd conversations and the weird games of chess. What comes as a complete shock are Potter’s other activities…And why he seems so intent on having Draco join him. (Relax. It’s just like a holiday Hallmark movie! …With, uhm, sleepwanking.)

Sourdough by @academicdisaster24 [17k]

Draco writes romance novels and doesn't leave his apartment much. Harry bakes bread and sells it to Draco. Draco is quite weird. Harry might like that.

Sunseeker by @shiftylinguini [15k]

Harry is a struggling writer. Namely, he is struggling with: writing his next book, dealing with his agent, finding a decent tea strainer, fielding his friend’s concern over the aforementioned book, and figuring out who the cat loitering in his garden belongs to. He also has a slight liking-Malfoy problem. Okay, he has a massive liking-Malfoy problem.

Teach Me, Life; Guide Me, Love by @kiraohara [79k]

Revelations both painful and joyous set the markers in the path of every life. Thankfully, Draco has spectacular company for the journey.

Verba Volant by shushu_yaoi_lj / @orange-peony [34k]

The first letter arrives after the Trials. Harry unfolds the parchment and his eyes open wide when he realises who it’s from. He soon finds himself waiting for those letters to arrive, staring at the window in search of Malfoy’s owl. He wants to know more.

When It Alteration Finds by momatu [55k]

After the war, Harry left most of the Wizarding world behind and built a new life for himself in the Channel Islands. He opened a bakery and is happy with his life. Draco is a fiction author who writes under a penname, and he’s currently suffering from writer’s block. His agent suggests he try writing in a new environment and rents a cottage in the Channel Islands for him.

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

#my recs #drarry #drarry recs #theme rec

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whyse7vn · 11 months

Text

POSITIVE VIBES ONLY! -

[ ot7 x reader ]

WHO’S IN PARIS?

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

tae: can someone wire me 100k?

jk: how do you wire something??

y/n: beats me

namjoon: 100k?

jimin: why?

jin: did you hear lucas left nct LAMSOO

yoongi: who?

hobi: i’m about to raise the roof

yoongi: oh

tae: can someone send me 100k or not omg

y/n: are you not a millionaire???

jk: word on the streets is that he’s a hardcore gambler

jin: ur living room does not count as “the streets”

jk: 😟

y/n: guys kai is enlisting i’m gonna throw up

yoongi: gws

hobi: pretty girl you like peaches 🩷

y/n: you’ll never be him

hobi: 😞

namjoon: why does tae need 100k??

y/n: yeah why does tae need 100k??

jk: let the audience know tae

tae: yes or no can you send it now?

jin: i could but i won’t

yoongi: no

jimin: asked for coffee the other day and you said no

now you want 100k how about you kys

hobi: i’ll send it

y/n: no you won’t

hobi: i won’t send it

jk: bold of you to assume i have 100k

namjoon: jungkook what?

you make more than 100k a day??

jk: okay??

bold of you to assume i have access to my card

namjoon: ??

jin: i don’t even wanna know tbh

y/n: he once ordered a 10k marching band the day after the hamster we had died because he needed to “clear his head”

jimin: you guys had a hamster??

jk: lived one day will miss tony forever ☝🏻

yoongi: this is why we shouldn’t of let the 2 youngest members live together

y/n: jungkook once brought a “picassco” painting of iron man for 50k

jk: is very pretty it’s in my room

hobi: picasso is dead

jk: what

jimin: tae and jennie let’s get into that

tae: let’s not

jin: REAL is that why you need 100k stuck in paris bf of the year?

y/n: RIGHT WHAGT IS GOING ON FR

tae: nothing

namjoon: ?

y/n: be fr tae

tae: are you jealous??

y/n: no

jk: yes

y/n: what

tae: what

jk: ur giving her 100k ofc im jealous

jin: omg?

y/n: FR??

namjoon: ur giving her 100k?

jimin: that’s insane

yoongi: does she not have money?

hobi: her and tae fr twins then

jimin: how is he giving away money he clearly doesn’t have?

tae: i have 100k

jimin: ur not acting like it

namjoon: wait so ur asking us to send you 100k that you already have to give to ur gf?

tae: what??

jk: guys i’m kinda confused rn

tae: i don’t have a gf?

yoongi: bro

jimin: i don’t even care anymore

y/n: tae was dropped as a baby

tae: OMG 😧????

jimin: constantly

tae: wtf namjoon say something this SICK the way they talk to me

namjoon: i give up

y/n: wasn’t talking TO you i try to keep that to a minimum

tae: when she hates you 😍

jk: jennie hates you?

hobi: she’s kinda real for that

tae: stfu about jennie

jk: omgee did you fight??

yoongi: you guys are not real

there’s no way

jimin: the next bitch to send a question mark being shot and killed immediately

y/n: mark lee

hobi: let’s play ball

tae: mid

y/n: MARK LEE MID ARE YOU OUT OF UR MIND???

jimin: …

y/n: if you shoot at kill me that would be considered a hate crime

jimin: it will be worth it

y/n: :c

jk: :3

hobi: :0

yoongi: freaks

namjoon: cute

tae: guys i feel like you don’t actually love and care for me

jk: whaaat ur really cool!

y/n: yikes

jin: jungkook sarcasm says it all tbh

jk: what

jin: nvm he just dumb as hell

jk: ??

jin: ur so cool jungkook!!!!!!

jk: ur coolest jin ^^

jimin: the oldest too

namjoon: don’t start

yoongi: yikes x2

hobi: eeek

jimin: i care for none of you

y/n: ur ugly

jimin: take it back

yoongi: i would put you all in a freezer

namjoon: what?

hobi: cold >.<

jk: does tae still need 100k?

tae: YES

jk: okay

tae: ???

jk: ???

tae: are you not giving it to me?

jk: no?

tae: wtf?

why did you ask then?

jk: cuz i wanted to know if you still needed it?

y/n: all these questions not enough answers

jimin: amen

hobi: queencard

namjoon: i think being in this gc is what taking acid would feel like

jin: druggie

jk: namjoon pls don’t do drugs

yoongi: save me

hobi: so tae is single?

tae: taken by the lord

jimin: i’ve been counting down the days for the lord to take you

tae: when i actually die ur gonna feel an unbearable amount of guilt

y/n: jimin when will you rest omg

jimin: i’m a born hater it’s hard to live like me

yoongi: if i were you i would kms

namjoon: i love having positive conversations with you all

hobi: me 2

jk: is it just me or am i the only one not seeing the positivity rn…

y/n: love you bffs 💓

jk: okay nvm !!!

me after lying saying i’m gonna release more stuff and then just running away 🤭🤭🤭. i’m just silly like that am i gonna regret posting this at 3 am and not proof reading it? possibly but it’s okay i’m back for how long? god knows but the jennie and tae stuff absolutely crazy i must say #gothemtho i have nothing else to add love u kissing you mwah mwah.

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getawayfox · 1 year

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OMG it’s already January! I’m so very late to this and I have seen so many wonderful lists, but I very much wanted to make my own, so I did. We are so lucky to be spoiled by so many incredible fics – here are some (in no particular order) that grabbed me by the heart and never let go.

💀 draco malfoy’s substitute murder service by @oknowkiss (Draco/Harry, E, 10k)

I HAVE. NO WORDS. In the best possible way. This fic has to be experienced first-hand. E is an insane genius. That’s it, that’s the rec.

🧑🏼‍🍳 Make This Leap by @oflights (Draco/Harry, M, 118k)

Competent Draco and disaster Harry my beloved! This fic is so sweet and lovely and I want to live in it forever.

📩 Per my last letter (I hope you choke on it) by @fluxweeed, @lastontheboat (Draco/Harry, T, 10k)

I laughed SO much reading this! It went straight into the bookmarks and I visit it every so often when I need a pick-me-up. And I swear I discover some new clever detail every time I do! Delightful, hilarious, perfect.

🐥 Robin’s Flufftober 2022 by @rockingrobin69 (Draco/Harry, M, 17,5k)

October was my favourite month because every day we got a dose of soft soft Robin sweetness - a moment of peace and safety every time her name popped on tumblr dashboard. I protect this collection in my bookmarks like the treasure it is.

❣️ Draco Malfory Absolutely Does Not Need to Be Loved by Harry Bloody Potter by @nv-md (Draco/Harry, E, 18k)

Draco’s voice in this fic! From the very first sentence (no, from the title!) I knew I was in the right hands. What a treat!

🛁 Rubber Drakey by @crazybutgood (Draco/Harry, T, comic)

This fic is an utter delight, creative and clever, adorable and laugh-out-loud funny. This is Draco in his cutest form!

🌞 Look For Me In the Sun by @wolfpants (Draco/Harry, M, 9k)

Obviously a wolfpants fic had to be on this list but which one? *points at the whole catalogue* There is no way to go wrong there, what a year they had! I think I have screamed most about Pages of you (the number of times AO3 tells me I visited that one is embarrassing), Romp and Circumstance, and The Hollow (yes these are links, what of it, no it’s not cheating), so I’m going mention another favourite: Look For Me In The Sun, gorgeously atmospheric, achy, stunningly written.

🦦 Kept in Cages by @sweet-s0rr0w and @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (Draco/Harry, E, 77k)

This has got to be THE fic this year for me. It’s fitting, because last year it was Nor All That Glisters, which got me into the drarry fandom properly, so of course it’s Sweet who just casually swoops in with another banger that won’t leave my brain, accompanied by the most incredible Joy art. I think this fic had me already at the tags but I was not ready for everything there is to love about the story - it’s impossible to do it justice in just a few short sentences, but if you haven't read it yet, it should be on your list for sure.

💍 Paper Rings by @lettersbyelise (Draco/Harry, E, 50k)

OTP: inevitable. Two timelines, both so exquisitely delivered: eighth-year drarry and grown-up drarry, both times so different and wholesome. This story is everything I love: nuanced, funny, full of pining and history.

🌙 Take the Moon by @tackytigerfic (Draco/Harry, M, 15k)

This fic grabbed me and squeezed, and I don’t think I’ve been able to catch my breath since. I’m actually lost for words here because the story makes me feel so much but I haven’t been able to name it yet and maybe that’s okay. It’s the Tacky way of reaching deep down into my feelings and letting me sit with them.

🍋 Preserving Lemons by @saintgarbanzo and @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (Draco/Harry, E, 17k)

I think this might be the only time I managed to guess the author when this was still anon (and, well. The genius artist too). Such intimacy and longing, gorgeous food and so many layers to the story.

🌼 He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not by @sleepstxtic (Draco/Harry, Draco/Astoria, T, 5k)

I know that the infidelity tag might put some people off, but this is a stunningly written (devastating) Astoria PoV that absolutely clawed at my heart in the best possible way.

🍎 The Wrong Sort by @vukovich (Draco/Harry, not rated)

This fic makes me want to scream even though Vuk came back with a second part that patched up my broken heart. “I didn’t know how else to keep it” will forever be etched into my eyelids. Thank you, Vuk.

🥂 Nights With You by @the-sinking-ship (Draco/Harry, E, WIP)

Technically, this counts because Sly started posting in Dec and I’m obsessed! Flirting! Banter! Oblivious Draco! *screams*

#drarry recs #drarry #fic recs #rec list #2022 favorites

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prisonprocess · 10 months

Text

The Adventure Begins

Brendan M. says:

These days, everything happens online. After I sold my company and took the profit, I lived at the lake house and basically didn’t need to go anyplace or see anybody. After 12 years of corporate meetings, that was fine with me. And there were plenty of online buddies to chat with.

My favorite was Blake. He was into all the hot prison photos, sites, and stories. We’d spend hours late at night, talking about how great it would be to “do prison,” as he put it, actually instead of virtually. “No more role play. Just real steel—the real deal.” Nothing but uniforms, restraints, cellblocks, and being transported in big ugly buses (“diesel therapy”). “Nothin but a number, Jack! And you know what? There’s an outfit that can put you there. Just saw it online.”

That’s when he told me about Your Prison Profile. A hot idea, of course—expensive, but they’d find a place for you in prison, and nobody would know how it happened. When I contacted them, they put me through to Cody, a chill young guy who made everything easy. I didn’t mind that he kept telling me to think about this or that, and we could talk about it tomorrow. I really got off on thinking about my “requirements”: “which level of security is necessary for you,” “are you looking for hard labor,” “single cell, double cell, pod, or dorm,” and so on. We did it all by online video, and I liked the look of Cody sitting at his desk and talking in a calm, level voice about what I wanted to “get out of” my “prison adventure.” Blake and I spent every night imagining our way through the various options. Next day I’d talk it over with Cody and click on the one I wanted.

Then in a couple of weeks Cody came online and told me, “Hey, based on the data you’re giving me, I found you a prison. It’s the same security you wanted, same labor options, the whole nine yards.” I was excited; I wanted to hit Blake up right away and tell him. The problem was—this looked like my last visit with Cody. He needed to know if I’d click on the box that said, yeah, I accept the offer. Which I’d never intended to do. I’d just wanted the fantasy.

I made up an excuse to go offline, and I got back to Blake. “What do you mean?” he said. “You don’t want to go through with it?”

I was ashamed to admit that I didn’t. But I was so excited, I couldn’t let it go. “Maybe for six months,” I said.

“Don’t be a wimp!” he replied. “Besides, you can’t go to a real prison for six months. They won’t let you in. It has to be for at least a year. You know that. And what else are you doing that’s so important?”

“All right,” I said. “I’ll tell him a year.” By that time, I barely knew what I was saying, I was so turned on.

But when I got back to Cody, he said, “I’m sorry. This is a serious facility. They don’t do one-year sentences. Try three.”

“Three?” I answered, like a dumb ass.

“Three years. Or you can sign up for five or ten or fifteen or twenty. But listen, if you’re having trouble making up your mind, you can do two to life. That’s for first offenders who, like, did something pretty bad, but they’re still first offenders. So if you’ve got a good record in the facility, they’ll let you out in two. Otherwise, they can keep you. You understand how that goes?”

“Right. I understand. I’ll get back to you.”

“Thanks. But I gotta tell you, this offer won’t last long.”

“What do you mean?” Blake said. “You’re not gonna turn that down, are you? Two years from now, you’ll still be sittin on your deck, growin your fat ass, wishin you’d had enough stones to click that box.”

I spent a worried, sleepless, and very excited night, and the next day I got with Cody online and clicked the box that said Two Years to Life.

After that it was easy. I sent a check for 50K, and 5K more as a tip for Cody. I made arrangements with my lawyer. I leased my house. I put my stuff in storage. I waited for my order to report to prison. When I got it, there were two weeks to go. I spent them chatting with Blake and alternating between excitement and fear. But I couldn’t deny what he said: “In fourteen days you’ll be livin the dream.” Then it was ten, then five, then one, and I went online to say so long for the next two years. For some reason, Blake wasn’t on.

Next morning I left the hotel where I’d been staying and took a taxi the 50 miles to the Regional Headquarters of the Department of Corrections, where I was supposed to turn myself in. I don’t know what I was expecting, but all I saw was a dumpy little building with a walk-up window and a sign saying REPORT FOR IMPRISONMENT. OK, that was straightforward. I wished I’d seen that sign years before. A twenty-year-old with ear rings was sitting on the other side of the glass. “Driver’s license-Order to Report-cellphone.” I’d never thought about that, but yes, I’d lose my phone. I slid everything through the little slot in the window. The young man tossed my phone to one side of the counter, where I could see it land on a pile of other cell phones. Then he compared my license with my Order, pushed the Order back through the slot, and said, “Give this to the officer at the gate. Next!” I turned and saw that I was part of a line of other men, there to REPORT FOR IMPRISONMENT.

The officer at the gate, a fifty-something with a big gut, took my Order and beckoned me through. “Face to the wall,” he said. There was a brick wall on the left, and I put my face to it. “Hands on your head.” I put my hands on my head. Then I heard the double click of the shackles being attached to my legs. This was the moment I’d been waiting for, and I almost lost it right there. Even more when he turned me around and cuffed my hands together.

“Transport cage over there. Get in and line up.” A younger officer who might have been hot but wasn’t opened the second steel gate and let me in silently. It was a cage, all right—concrete floor, and steel fencing all around. It looked like they’d spent twenty bucks on it. There were about 40 guys in the cage, lined up in their go-to-prison clothes, which must have cost then about ten bucks. So these were my fellow convicts . . . .

Note: All stories by prisonprocess are purely fictional and have no relation to real persons or institutions.

#transformation #new fish

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annlillyjose · 9 months

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Rock Salt – WIP Intro

hello again! on today’s news, your girl has a new wip aka something to fixate on and mould her life around for the next couple of months (or years). and because i cannot keep any exciting news to myself, here’s a wip intro.

but before we head into that, here’s a little backstory to how it happened. i finished writing dairy whiskey, i worried about my brain being incapable of forming new book ideas, two to three days after i get this new book idea that i’m totally hooked on, struggles to find a name, names it, decides to go forward with it, so again, here it is – rock salt!

here are the specifics:

disclaimer: this is an original work of fiction. plagiarism of any kind will not be tolerated. don’t be a pathetic loser.

genre: literary fiction

pov: first person retrospective

structure: probably going to be just full-length chapters

projected word count: 50k

concept: identical twins rain and norah move out of their family home for college where they purse two different degrees, live with different people in separate homes, and fall in troubles of their own. these begin to affect each other and they grow apart, being forced to navigate the the most confusing part of their lives – their shared existence as twins.

aesthetics/vibes: indigo skies, the beach, moths, seawater, salty breeze, chopping off one’s hair because existential crisis and queerness, lesbian relationships, house parties, fire, gloomy days where you feel like it’s going to rain but it doesn’t, cheap housing, bad grades, rotten food in the fridge, the moon, hanging plants, weed and local flowers

CHARACTERS

if you’ve heard these names before, no you haven’t, but again, they’re from twinepathy – the short story i wrote nearly three years back and scrapped afterwards. i tried to create new characters for this book but they feel like the perfect fit, so here they are.

norah

lesbian, she/they

her real name is eleanor

the protagonist and the narrator

studies political science

shoulder-length black hair, dark brown eyes, 5'3, skinny, wheat-coloured skin

always wears basic t-shirts or sweatshirts with a pair of mom jeans

distant, secretive, in constant disapproval of everything

strives on academic validation (and is being too hard on herself to bring in good grades)

rain

also 18

aroace, she/her

her real name is lorraine

studies painting and the applied arts

long black hair, dark brown eyes, 5'3, skinny, wheat-coloured skin

is a goofball, sunshine and rainbows, has a lot of friends, is extremely talented in her art, golden retriever energy with some drama to be unleashed

cannot keep her mouth shut so ends up in trouble with norah

don’t want to introduce them officially, because they’re not key characters, but here’s a little info on their older sisters –

harper

is called harp

is a high school geography teacher

engaged to her college boyfriend

oldest child in an asian household (i guess that’s saying enough)

violet

is called viv

the neglected middle child

in her last year of a nursing degree

wanted to study music but was too scared to bring it up to her parents and ended up being stuck at a hospital

plans to go abroad and marry a rich guy

well, that’s all i’ve got for you today. i haven’t started writing this book yet and i think i won’t until i finish editing dairy whiskey in august. i think i’ll start in september and then hopefully do nanowrimo for it in november. i’m super excited to work on it because it’s so different from dairy whiskey in a lot of aspects. but i’m discovery writing (as always) and we’ll just have to see where it goes. but until i come back with an update for this book, you take care, stay hydrated, water your plants, and eat a second dessert tonight.

– ann

general taglist (ask to be added or removed)

@shaonsim @heartfullkings @vnsmiles @dallonwrites @wannabeauthorclive @sienna-writes @violetpeso @flip-phones @silassghost @ambidextrousarcher @zoe-louvre @writing-with-l @magic-is-something-we-create @femmeniism @frozenstillicide @wizardfromthesea @rose-bookblood @coffeeandcalligraphy @rodentwrites @saltwaterbells @snehithiye @at-thezenith

#rock salt #rock salt intro #rock salt update #wip intro #wip tag #new wip #new book #writeblr #my writing #wip update

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hiorintruther · 11 months

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A comprehensive not-PowerPoint presentation on why I ship hiorin even though they’ve only interacted twice… and that’s being liberal with the word “interact”

(For @zevacheiznekam coz they asked me to 😌)

Do bear in mind that Hiorin as a ship is quite largely based in headcanon. While shippers like myself use canon as a basis to scrape whatever details we can about Hiori and Rin, their (brief) interactions and their personalities, canon material is more of an anchor from which several generally accepted headcanons have sprouted which we all kinda sorta abide by, although different people might have slightly different interpretations. This is just my interpretation. Also, this did sort of start as a crackship for me but then I started actually thinking about it and, uh, I don’t think it’s a crackship anymore when I’ve written nearly 50k words of fanfic for it on my AO3…

For starters, I began shipping Hiorin based on one singular interaction. It also happens to be the only one of two times where they properly talk to each other at all. This interaction (below) comes from the U-20 match, right after Rin has been roundhouse kicked in the face by Shidou. It was a moment that surprised me because despite spending the match getting progressively more and more aggressive to everyone else, Rin here isn’t aggressive towards Hiori. He lets Hiori help him up and they even manage to engage in a very brief but mutual conversation.

Now sure, Hiori is just being nice here and Rin is probably a bit stunned. They haven’t interacted since this moment in the manga and likely won’t again in any real capacity. Still, it was this interaction that got me trying to imagine what it might look like if they could be closer — mostly in the context of Rin actually being able to make a proper friend. He does seem to have a certain level of tolerance for Hiori that he doesn’t for the rest of Blue Lock (which I’ll explain later), plus Hiori is probably the only one patient, kind AND calm enough to be capable of being Rin’s friend without Rin despising it. Other kind characters like Nanase and Bachira are in my opinion too bubbly and talkative in canon for Rin’s more broody personality (although I do love a good sunshine x storm-cloud ship don’t get me wrong). Meanwhile, Hiori is equally as kind but calmer. More quiet. He’s also not got a drive to try and defeat Rin or devour him, which I think Rin would appreciate given he hates people who do try to go against him like Isagi and Shidou.

The only other substantial interaction we have for hiorin comes from the Third Selection tryouts match in which they’re placed on the same team. I’ve already made a post about it so go to that here for the relevant screenshots from the manga. I will copy over the conclusions from the post though. From this match I inferred that:

Hiori can keep up with Rin like it’s a regular day (speaking to Hiori’s adaptability)

This, for Rin, translates to “Hiori is reliable”

Rin can trust Hiori to definitely get the ball to where it needs to be if they cooperate, even though they’ve never played together before (and they didn’t even discuss a plan beforehand but were able to immediately link up without issue — see again Hiori being adaptable)

Rin doesn’t look down on Hiori the way he does with Isagi or Shidou, probably because he doesn’t see Hiori as a threat or insulting

This concludes all of their interactions in the manga. From here, me and other shippers use these small conclusions from canon as well as canon-adjacent information from things like the Egoist Bible Character Book to build a hypothetical situation in which they ARE able to start talking to each other more often and build a bond. Most of the fics about this pairing that take place in the canon universe will deal with overcoming the hurdle of ‘getting them to actually interact’. For us shippers, after that hurdle has been cleared it’s rather smooth sailing to imagine a relationship forming for a lot of reasons.

To begin, the obvious thing to focus on is their similar backstories. More specifically, the emotional responses they have to their backstories and how it could be a source of understanding between them (spoilers for the manga up to chapter 206). The resentment Rin holds towards Sae is incredibly similar to the resentment Hiori holds towards his parents. Both have canonically been shown wanting to hurt/kill their family members due to how these family members treated them, as well as the feelings of false love associated with these family members being a big part of why Rin and Hiori want to hurt them. Rin feels betrayed by Sae because he thinks Sae pretended to love him and care about him in their childhood to further his own ambition only to throw it all away like it was meaningless, meanwhile Hiori feels that his parents don’t actually love him and only want him to be the best because they never could be. This similarity is something that us shippers tend to use as way for Hiori to be able to understand Rin in a way that other characters can’t, as well as a way for Rin to be able to actually articulate his emotions surrounding Sae to someone who is able to understand him to a certain degree and won’t think he’s being “too edgy” or “over-reacting”. We can count in Hiori to not be judgemental of Rin.

Beyond their families though, the two of them just have similar interests and personalities. Rin likes horror games (Egoist Bible) and Hiori is a gamer. They’re both quiet, more reserved and Hiori’s ideal type in a romantic partner is someone who will leave him alone a lot (Blue Lock wiki). They’re ‘no-nonsense’ people who prefer to be blunt and to the point. It might seem a bit superficial but considering they basically never interact, it’s rather a lot to go on.

Overall, the completely made up dynamic that has been created by us shippers after taking all of this information into account goes something like this:

Rin doesn’t find Hiori as annoying or threatening as the rest of Blue Lock because Hiori is adaptable, no-nonsense and doesn’t try to come for Rin’s position as number 1

Hiori has an understanding of Rin’s trauma because he himself experienced something incredibly similar

They get over the ‘start talking’ hurdle and begin to realise that they actually have similar interests and can hold a conversation for longer than 2 seconds

The relationship builds from there, with Hiori being the ‘exception’ in Rin’s life and Rin being a safety where Hiori can talk about his true feelings without having to filter himself or be kind

In terms of other headcanons, these are a couple that I’ve seen floating around:

Neither of them like PDA very much. You might see them holding hands if you’re lucky

They play co-op together a lot, especially co-op horror games

They don’t pry into each other’s business. If one of them wants to talk about something, they will

They have the type of relationship where they’ll sit in silence not talking to each other for 30 minutes, then one nudges the other a bit and suddenly they’re cuddling (only in private, obviously)

They have had many long, depressing trauma-dump sessions with each other

It isn’t a depressing relationship though, mostly because Hiori is a light in Rin’s life and Rin feels like he can be more ‘the old him’ around Hiori (see: Rin’s light novel)

They both like striped clothing (see: Rin’s casual design and Hiori’s onesie, coaster design and child design)

And with that, I have finally finished my overly long, overly indulgent explanation into why I and others ship hiorin. It’s 3am for me rn so I might have missed smth so if any other hiorin shippers out there in the aether wanna drop in with their perspectives and/or stuff I forgot to mention, feel free! As for @zevacheiznekam, I hope this answered your question and you didn’t get too bored half way through 😅

(Also, if you wanna see some hiorin artwork, uh, shameless plug)

Sources used:

Blue Lock manga

Egoist Bible

Blue Lock light novels (we’re actually getting a Hiori one later this year which will hopefully add some fuel to the hcs!)

Nomura’s art

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock manga #hiorin #hiori yo #itoshi rin #blue lock hiori #blue lock rin #blue lock meta #blue lock analysis #I keep feeling like I’ve missed smth #but I’ve tried to keep this explanation as headcanon free as possible #my fanfics have no place here #the dynamic is just one that feels nice #this idea of finding solace in each other despite their mildly fucked up mental states and it isn’t toxic or problematic

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