#‘my fandom is so small’ shut up do you have more than 100 fics on AO3?

[loosingmoreletters]

“Oh, how big are your fandoms?”

Small.

[snowdice]

Creased Hoodies (Chapter 11: The Return) [Folds in Time Universe]

Fandom: Sander Sides

Relationships: Logan/Virgil, Janus/Patton (background), Remus & Roman  (background)

Characters:

Main: Logan, Virgil

Appear: Patton, Roman

Mentioned: Janus, Remus

Summary: Virgil just wanted to go on his planned summer research trip to do an anthropological study in 2005 America. However, when he is taken off course by an unknown enemy, he ends up stranded in the summer of 2018 with no way to get back the the 44rd century. Luckily, 2018 happens to be where a certain illegal time agency is based, and he might have an in with one of its agents.

This is the intermission for the story Folds in Paper. It takes place between Folds in Paper Book 1 and Book 2. It also takes place after the first 5 chapter of “Messages for a Hacker” which are side stories in the universe. Check all of this and more out on my Folds in Time Master Post.

Chapter Summary: Patton returns home to a very awkward 

Notes: Time travel AU

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

The breakfast table was silent the next morning. Though, if one could call it a breakfast table when Logan was only drinking a cup of tea, Roman was chewing on a slice of unbuttered, untoasted bread, and Virgil was squirreled away in Logan’s bedroom either still asleep or avoiding them both was debatable.

“…Look,” Roman said.

“We aren’t talking about it.”

“How was I supposed to know the two of you were getting it on?!” Roman said, talking about it. “Put a sock on the door next time or something. It’s common courtesy!”

“We weren’t having sex,” Logan hissed. Roman opened his mouth. “Shut up and learn the ‘common courtesy’ of knocking.” He pointed a spoon at his roommate threateningly.

Yet, still, because it was Roman, the other man opened his mouth once more. Luckily, before he could say anything else on the matter, there was a loud crack from the living room.

“I’m going to need a towel please!” Patton called.

“I’ve got it,” Roman said, jumping into motion and sprinting towards the bathroom. Logan meanwhile, stood and headed towards the living room.

“Why are you wet?” Logan asked immediately upon taking in the sight of his roommate. His very, very soaked roommate. He was dripping water like he’d just crawled out of a pond.

“There was an ocean in the church,” Patton replied, seeming unconcerned by the fact that he was getting their carpet wet.

“What?” Logan asked.

Patton pushed his sopping wet hair out of his eyes. “The time distortions were a lot more intense than the ones we’ve seen before,” he said. He held out a small innocuous appearing device whose only mechanism seemed to be a small switch. “Be careful with that. It’s unstable, and we might have damaged it getting out.” Patton winced and removed his timepiece from his wrist. “Actually, speaking of that… this might need a checkup too.”

“Were there issues with the tech?” Logan asked, reaching for both devices.

“…No,” Patton said, looking a bit sheepish. “We may have… had to turn off all of the safety protocols.”

“You what?!” Logan asked, snatching away the timepiece and clutching it to his chest. “Patton, I just made this for you!”

“And you did a really good job!” was Patton’s reply, “but we didn’t want to drown in a church.”

“It was a completely new design!”

“And it’s really good,” Patton said with a smile, “and clearly reliable. We didn’t blow up!”

Logan took a slow breath. “I’ll make sure it wasn’t damaged.”

“Thanks Lo!”

Roman entered the living room then, bright blue towel in hand. “I have returned bearing gifts!” he proclaimed.

“My hero,” Patton said with a laugh. He took the towel and used it to wipe off his face and then start to dry his hair.

“So, an ocean in a church?” Logan asked.

Patton nodded. “I’ll have to thank Virgil for suggesting the inflatable raft,” he said. “Though I think he might have cheated on that suggestion.” He paused then as he finished running the towel through his hair, face growing slightly more serious. “I saw Remus,” he told them.

Roman froze instantly. “You did?”

“Uh huh,” Patton replied. “He was with Janus, but I figured I shouldn’t say anything about you to him since that trip was way out of sync. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, no, of course,” Roman said. “That makes sense. That’s fine. How was he?”

“He seemed good,” Patton said. He flashed Roman a smile. “Happy. Not exactly what I expected though. He’s quite the character. I can tell he and Janus are good friends.”

“Oh,” Roman said. “That’s… that’s good.”

Patton’s face screwed up slightly. “He did flirt with me though, so that was weird.”

“He what?!” Roman screeched.

“It wasn’t particularly innocent flirting either,” Patton said with a grimace.

Roman took a moment to process this information before pulling a face that one would expect to see on a small child trying a lemon for the first time. “That’s disgusting! That’s like… that’s like my brother flirting with my brother. Gross and wrong!”

“It was… it was weird,” Patton confirmed.

“What did he even say?” Roman asked.

“Mostly it was comments about my…” he made a motion with his head that Roman apparently was able to decipher.

“He talked about your butt?!”

“Well,” Patton said, “he didn’t exactly use that word.”

“That sounds about right for Remus,” Virgil said, poking his head into the living room.

“Oh, so you’ve finally decided to join the land of the living, Emo?” Roman asked, turning to him.

“Shut up,” both Logan and Virgil said at the same time.

Of course, he did not. “You know, Pat-Pat, speaking of posteriors…”

“One more word out of you and I will murder you,” Virgil threatened. Roman did not look afraid, quite the opposite.

“Uh,” Patton said, looking between them. “What’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you latter,” Roman promised with a wink.

“You will not,” Logan said. “Keep your gossiping tendencies under control.”

“Well, wait,” Patton said with a pout. “Now I want to know.”

“You go take a shower,” Logan ordered.

Patton and Roman shared a look that was already giving Logan a migraine. He had no doubts Patton would have the whole story along with a good number of embellishments by dinner.

“Yes boss,” Patton said with a cheeky grin.

Logan rolled his eyes as his roommate turned towards the bathroom, the towel still on his shoulders. He was dry enough that he wasn’t dripping everywhere anymore, and he made sure to slip off his waterlogged shoes and socks so as to not track water to the bathroom.

“Put everything in the biohazard hamper,” Logan called after him.

“I know!” he called back.

“And you,” Logan said, tuning to Roman, “clean up all of the water he got on the carpet in the off chance there are any pathogens in it.”

“Why me?” Roman whined.

“Because you’ve annoyed me,” Logan said, “and I need to insure these two devices do not explode.”

“Ugh, fiiiine,” Roman said, dipping back into the hall.

Virgil glanced over at Logan once Roman had gone, his expression the picture of awkwardness. “Uh,” he said. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Logan said.

“…Are those things really at risk of exploding right now?” he asked.

Logan glanced at him. “Technically they are always at least slightly at risk of exploding, but admittedly the chance is further from 0 than I would like it to be at this moment.”

“Great,” Virgil said. “One more thing to be anxious about.”

“You don’t need to be anxious about it, Virgil,” Logan said.

“Uh, I think I do need to be anxious about the maybe bomb in your hands,” Virgil said, throwing a suspicious look towards the devices.

“That’s not what I meant,” Logan said.

“I know,” Virgil sighed.

“We are two mutually consenting adults,” Logan pointed out. “There isn’t any shame to it.”

“Can we please talk about our very embarrassingly interrupted kiss after you’ve dealt with the explosives?”

“Very well,” Logan agreed. He walked to the other side of the room to grab a statis chamber from a cabinet drawer.

“What’s that?” Virgil asked as the cube shaped device popped up.

“It’s a stasis cube,” Logan said as he placed the two devices into it and activated it. It lit up yellow. “It will allow them to cool down completely from their earlier use in a safe environment. Once they’re more stable, it will be less dangerous to work with them.”

“If it just takes 5 seconds to deal with them, why are you making Roman clean up?” Virgil asked amused.

“Like I said,” Logan said. “He annoyed me. Speaking of,” he glanced into the hallway where Roman currently was. “How do you feel about leaving before he gets back? Patton will clean himself up and probably take a nap immediately after, so we have time. We could get coffee in peace.”

Virgil smiled at him. “Sure,” he said. “Escape the apartment for coffee part two.”

Want to read more? Click below!

Folds in Time Universe Master Post

My Main Masterpost

[tacticaldiary]

Not Jealous

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort; Fluff

He’s not jealous. He’s not. Impossible...so what was this horrible feeling clawing at his chest, urging him to do something about Denki getting a little too friendly? Why does he feel the need to punch something. Jealousy is an ugly thing as Bakugou finds out. 

Masterlist

——————————————————————————

He hated this. He didn't care, but at the same time he hated it. 

The way Y/N threw her head back to laugh or, god forbid, giggle at something Dunce Face over there had said made his blood boil for some reason. The way he had his arm thrown around her made him want to punch something, and the obvious, lazy flirting made him want to yell at someone. 

The whole class was lounging in the living room, Bakugou sitting on one of the couches next to Y/N and Denki. He was in full hearing range of the terrible jokes and laughs. Every now and then he chances a glance to them.

It doesn’t help his rising temper

Why was Dunce Face the one who got to be near Y/N? Why the hell was he allowed to touch her? Obviously it’s not like he cared or anything. He didn’t care that he wanted to be the one sitting next to Y/N, no that was just stupid. 

It’s not like his heart fucking fluttered everytime she shot him a smile, or offered to spar with him. Nope. Not like he admired how she was one of the only people who didn’t take his bullshit, or how headstrong and confident and powerful she was, how she practically radiated every time she walked in the room, or even how he went out of his way to be around her. 

It wasn’t his fault she needed obvious tutoring to get her 95% up to a 100%. Not his fault their quirks were compatible and they were usually assigned to train together. She obviously needed to be walked to recovery girl every time she got hurt, who knows what stupid shit she’d pull if no one accompanied her, (granted he was always the one who insisted on taking her, fuck off Deku.).

Any extra time they spent together was purely coincidental, and...fuck he was in love-

The day Bakugou had realised it was when he was walking her to her dorm. The grateful smile she’d given him accompanied with a “Thank you, Katsuki.” had quite literally knocked the breath out of him. He loved the way his name sounded on her lips. 

“What the hell, Denki!?” Y/N’s laugh rings through the room. That most definitely was not his name. He turns to them, his scowl deepening as he sees Y/N grab his arm to keep herself upright. Denki laughs with her, looking highly amused. Bakugou's eyes linger on them and something claws at his chest, a horrible emotion that makes him want to snatch you away, as far away from Dunce Face as possible. 

The loud bang the echoes through the room startles everyone into silence. Bakugou rises to his feet and swears, grabbing onto his left hand, which he had accidentally ignited. One of the pillows behind him was scorched black, the smell of burnt cotton filling the room. He rarely every loses control of his quirk like that, regardless of how small the explosion was. 

“Kacchan-?”

“Bakugo, you-”

“Holy shit! You okay?” Y/N is the first to react, cutting Izuku and Kirishima off and standing, walking over to Bakugou.She grabs his hand and brings it up to examine it for any damage. If it were anyone else they would have had their face blown off by now “Why’d you-”

“Shut up.” he says lowly, glaring at her, before harshly ripping his hand away and turning on heel, stalking up into the hallway, to his room presumably. He was still fuming, now the added anger of having lost control like that adding to the frustration. 

Shutting the door, he looks down at his hands and sighs. In the confinements of his own personal space, he allows himself to think properly. Fuck, he hated this, he hated feeling like this.

He ignores the knock on the door, plopping down on his desk chair. He knew full well who it was, and he really didn’t want to deal with this right now. The knocking continues and is this time accompanied by a familiar voice. 

“Don’t be an asshole, I know you’re in there! Open the door.”

Ignoring seems to work, he thinks...he thinks wrong. Before he can react, he hears the doorknob turn and the sound of the door creaking open tells him that he foolishly forgot to lock the door. He spins the chair to glare at Y/N

“The fuck do you want?”

“I want to know why you’ve been acting more pissy than usual today.” She states closing the door behind her with a click. 

“Keep wondering then.”

“It would be much easier if you just told me.” She crosses her arms.

Bakugou shrugs with a scowl. “Shouldn’t you be out there? Wouldn’t wanna waste your precious quality time with Dunce Face now would you?” His scowl becomes harsher at the thought. Y/N pauses, silence filling the space between them for a few seconds. 

“You’re...oh my god, Katsuki, are you...jealous or something?” She asks, snickering a little. 

“What the hell? I’m not jealous.” He gets to his feet and yells, fists clenched. He wasn't jealous.

“You are! You’re jealous! Katsuki Bakugou is jealous!” Y/N laughs, ignoring the murderous look on the others face. Before she knows it, she’s yanked forward by her collar, close to a very much seething Bakugou. 

“I’m not jealous, you little shit.” He growls lowly, his fist bunching the front of Y/N’s shirt. 

“Your actions tell me otherwise.” Her eyes flicker down to his hold, before going back up to meet his fiery ones. She suddenly realizes how close they are, she can practically feel his breath fanning over her face. She goes quiet at the thought, a flush creeping up her face. Bakugou notices the lack of retort, and a slow smirk spreads across his face as he sees how red the other is.

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue? Where’s the witty retorts now, shithead?” he yanks her closer, almost tauntingly. 

“I left them with Kaminari, I guess.” Y/N says quietly after recovering from the initial shock. SHe grins as she’s released and shoved away almost immediately.

“So it’s Kaminari now?” he cocks his head to the side.

“That bothers you?”

“Obviously not. Do what you want, idiot.” He scoffs, looking away with a scowl. Y/N contemplates her options. She could push the point and risk Bakugou completely pushing her away...or she could leave and address the problem later. 

Later. A word she’s all too familiar with. She’s been putting off doing something as trivial as confessing till ‘later’ for the past few months. She can’t exactly pinpoint how or why she fell for this hotheaded, stubborn, asshole of an unfairly attractive idiot, but she knows that she’ll have to tell him sometime, even if he rejects her and doesn’t feel the same. After a few seconds of thought she makes up her mind and shrugs.

“All right. Guess I’ll go spend some more time with Kaminari then. Since you don’t mind.” She turns and pulls the door open. Before it can open more than a few inches, however, it’s forcibly slammed shut by a hand next to her head. She turns around in surprise and is met with Bakugou glaring down at her. 

“...What?” She prompts when he doesn’t speak. 

He continues glaring down at her in silence, seemingly fighting a mental battle over something. It seems like the debate is settled however, when he sighs in annoyance and leans down, crashing their mouths together harshly.  

It only lasts a few seconds, a few fiery, explosive, wonderful seconds, before Y/N is left shell-shocked, as Bakugou pulls away, still scowling. He raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t move away. 

“Uh...I- that was-...” Y/N stutters, before gathering herself and meeting his gaze with a small smile. “I should take that as a sign that you like me back?” She relishes the way he’s caught off guard since it doesn’t happen often. His eyes widen slightly in surprise and the hand on the door next to her head slips down just a fraction. 

“Figured it out already, dumbass?” he grumbles, still keeping her fixed to her place with his eyes.

“Sorry...guess I short-circuited for a second.” She can’t help it. When Bakugou scowls and pulls away harshly, she reaches out and grabs his waist, attempting to keep him in place. “Kidding! I’m kidding, Katsuki!” She chuckles and hearing her laugh is the only thing that stops Bakugou from not prying her hands off him. 

“There’s nothing going on between me and Denki, if you were curious. I’ve liked you for a while now and he knows that.” The tips of her ears turn red at the confession. Bakugou stares at her for a second, not seeing any hints of a lie. He relaxes a little and scoffs. 

“Never said I was curious.” he rolls his eyes and Y/N shakes her head with a breathy laugh. 

“Sure, Katsuki. Sure.”

When they return to the common area together, they’re sent questioning glances, but everyone knows better than to ask. Y/N sits next to Bakugou and Bakugou’s the one who has his arm around her and Bakugou’s the guy who gets to hear her laugh and he’s the one who gets to spend time with her.

He obviously wasn’t jealous before.

——————————————————————————

Author’s Note: My first Bnha fic! Honestly, I’m so excited to start writing for this fandom, so send your requests in! They really get my creativity flowing!

Requests Are Open And Welcome

[alkalinefrog]

may I request your top 10 favorie lawlight fics ?? I’m really interested

AIGHT BUCKLE UP BUTTERCUP because I’ve got a lot of feelings about these! Also, people have been asking me for fics featuring:

Ryuk shenanigans

yagami sibling hijinks

whammy kids found family

----- from my bingo card I made a while back. Tbh, I put those on the list to try and manifest the energy into the universe hoping people would bring fics to ME about them lmao. I do have a couple that check the boxes though! 

Also thank you to everyone who’s been recommending me fics!! You’ve all hit the nail on the head and sing straight to my heart! I’m just slow to make my way through them between work. <3

GOING UNDER THE CUT (rip mobile users)

Aight here we go, in no particular order:

“Change OR the one where L and Light get married” by @translightyagami (I’m so sorry I keep tagging you in these alsfjkalsfdj)

The one I never shut up about and am adapting part of into a comic because it’s just that GOOD. :’’’D Light and L get married in front of Watari and Light’s family back at the Whammy orphanage in England. A melancholy yet painfully sweet tale as Light and L reminisce on their history together while getting ready for the ceremony, and their first night together afterwards. Single-handedly sold me on Kira being intrinsically part of Light to boot.

“the forest holds strange creatures” by @translightyagami (I’m sorryyyyyyy I just love your stuff)

An AU where Light’s a paranormal researcher and L’s a reclusive cryptid living in the forest next to a small town. The writing has a fairytale feel to it, and the romance is so gentle. Light’s bunking at Whammy’s small little house, and Near and Mello are there as little kids pestering Light. It’s ADORABLE. Beyond Birthday also shows up in one of the extra chapters as a creepy cashier at a thrift shop for double the fun!

"Sickness” by BlueberryValentine (more fics on their fanfiction.net account!)

The ultimate hurt/comfort + fluff + angst with a happy ending fic. The first fic I read to get back into lawlight a couple months back! Canon divergence starting during the Yotsuba arc. Light is diagnosed with terminal brain cancer while still under investigation. L has to take care of him, and somewhere along the way they fall in love. It carved out a chunk of my heart but luckily filled it back up with a sweet sort of aching.

“Seeking His Hand” by magic__mind

Historical regency AU! L is a rich nobleman courting Light, a humble farm boy, for his hand in marriage. One of the most romantic pieces of literature that I have ever come across. The prose is pure poetry, and their love so pure! This one also has a special place in my heart for its portrayal of Misa! She’s A)a spy who helps L on his cases, B)totally removed from her co-dependence for Light, C)the  bubbly badass she was always meant to be. 100/10 worth the read!

The “Resurrections” Series by Shadow_of_Quill

A modern Orpheus and Euridice story, wherein Light’s spirit leads L back from Hades while he’s still Kira. L is thereby present for the confrontation at the warehouse. Believing that any trace of Light is lost in the man, he executes him right then and there. However, this was a grave mistake, and Light’s soul won’t be as easily revived. (spoilers, they’re both fine in the end) ******* THIS ONE ALSO INCLUDES YAGAMI SIBLING HIJINKS. Sayu plays a HUGE role in bringing Light back!

“Is This The Way It Ends Now?” by Seastar98

The one that checks off ALL the above three boxes!! A “characters watch their own show” fic, wherein the gang receives a mysterious DVD in the middle of the Yotsuba arc. Horrified by what’s to come, Light and L work to make sure their future is brighter than the one they witness. They bring in all three heirs to watch with ‘em, everyone gets character development, and Sayu comes in like black panther in endgame yet again to bring Light back from the darkness! Ryuk pops up in the end and the epilogue and he’s great. The ultimate and most direct fix-it you’re ever gonna get.

“From the Same Star” by Nilahxapiel

This is my only pure “Ryuk Shenanigans” fic, and it’s really really sad :’’’D A short but sweet one-shot wherein Ryuk traverses multiple dimensions, dropping the Death Note at Light’s feet each time. Light and L were always fated to clash, and it’s just as heartbreaking every time. 

“Primitive Liars” by Nilahxapiel

This one’s super popular in the fandom for a reason! The only omegaverse fic that I’ve liked! The A/B/O dynamics and their affect on society are super well developed, and the writer manages to keep L and Light very in character while still developing their budding romance in a believable way. This is an AU where somebody else is Kira, and Light’s genuinely helping L and the task force hunt him down. ***** Naomi Misora lives, the heirs come in, and Sayu actually hops aboard the task force!!! DUDE. BRILLIANT. I also just love the exploration of gender and identity that the author weaves in. Lots of LGBTQ rep!

“and indeed there will be time” by lawlietismyfavorite

The ultimate soulmate AU. People grow to be 18, then stop aging until they meet their one. L is the greatest detective of not only this century, but of six centuries. And then there's Light. (taken straight from the description!) The prose is absolutely breathtaking; like walking through a dream. Can not recommend this fic enough! It’s got my head up in the clouds and looking towards the stars!

“K” by  Dlvvanzor

AU where Light’s a Whammy with the moniker ‘K.’ He and L grow up together along with kiddos covering the rest of the alphabet. A murder-mystery-thriller on top of the romance featuring Beyond Birthday as a main character! Light’s a pathological liar and L’s super into it. They’re the top students at Whammy’s and are tasked with solving a string of homicides happening RIGHT AT THE ORPHANAGE (guess who dunnit). It had me on the edge of my seat, and I binged the whole thing in two days.

i’mMMMM doing more than 10, this’ll just be my ultimate fic rec post 😂

“Change of Circumstances” by wordbombs

Another AU where Light’s a whammy! It’s just a one-shot though, but one of my all time faves!!! I’ve gone back and reread it so many times and drew some stuff for it a couple weeks back. Much more light-hearted than “K”, Light arrives at the orphanage at age four and meets an eleven year old L, and from there they grow up together and fall in love (the age difference is handled really well, L’s not physically present for a lot of Light’s childhood and they bond on a platonic level first). It’s one of the healthiest relationship dynamics that I’ve seen for these two, which is honestly such a breath of fresh air. Matt, Mello, and Near are there too in the background!

“Dial K for Kira” by @kiranatrix

“Light needs some easy money to finance his Kira plans, and notices there’s a big demand for Kira roleplay phone sex. So he figures, “Why not? Pretty sure I’ll be convincing.”He raises some fast cash and plans to shut the whole thing down and get back to writing names, until he gets a request from somebody who wants to “roleplay” as L....“

Taken straight from the description! It’s very VERY NSFW so be warned. I’m too shy to talk about it more alskfjdasldjf sorry BUT IT’S GREAT.

“Dance with Me” and “Birthday Note” by @dotti55fanfiction

These are both one-shots so I’m putting ‘em together! Absolutely adorable tooth-rotting fluff!! “Dance with Me” has Light and L going to a club, while “Birthday Note” features L trying to think of the best present for Light. The dictionary definition of “warm fuzzies.” (Dotti ilu, I still gotta find time to read your longer works)

“you’re a wasp nest” by  raisuki (inthegripofahurricane)

Blind!Light AU! Light and L are both college students who meet when Sayu dares L to break into her house. Yagami sibling hijinksssss! Their quippy dialogue is adorable and it’s just a fun time watching them flirt.

“softly now” by smallestbird (jenwryn)

THANK YOU TO THE ANON WHO SENT ME THIS REC. The softest lawlight one-shot to finish off this list! Light and L share an intimate moment while painting their new apartment. The absolute JOY this fic radiates in a short 700 words!! Read it before bed for the sweetest dreams!

These are just my favourites, but read anything by any of these authors and you will not be disappointed! I might make a separate post later for soulmate AUs because... There’s just too many. :’D

-Alka

[zodiyack]

Say Worse

Requested by anon: omg could u do some soft bonnie gold first time smut???

Pairing: Bonnie Gold x Female!Reader

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, swearing, fluff, me not proofreading

Words: 1,151

Note: A warning beforehand; this might suck no pun intended. First smut fic, not totally sure if it’ll turn out great, but yeah...ya know what they say- ...I actually completely forgot where I was going with that- the point is that the more practice I get, the better the writing’ll get...most likely, again, I dunno. Feedback is always appreciated!

Oh and- wrap it before you tap it darlings ;D

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace, @simonsbluee, @peakysputain, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it​ 

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

“Are you sure?” He avoided her eyes, finger tapping against his glass- a nervous habit of his. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No. Honestly, I’m not sure. But we’ve discussed this, Bonnie.” She stepped over to his seat, swinging a knee over his legs and scooching herself onto his lap, straddling him on the cushioned arm-chair. “I need to step out of my comfort zone more...and if there’s anyone I want to be my first... It’s you.”

They had discussed it throughout their relationship. Almost a year, and they were getting impatient with themselves. Bonnie held back because he wanted her to be sure and fully ready. Y/n, on the other hand, had no idea when she’d be ready, let alone 100% sure of that choice.

That had been her problem for years, and she wanted more than ever to push past it. Not allowing herself to experience things due to not being sure. So, with the help of some friends, she established her main goal; to escape her comfort zone every once in a while.

“And you’ve thought it thr-”

“Yes,” her lips formed a smile against his, small pecks between the two as she settled on his lap, “I have, Bonnie. I promise, if I have second thoughts, I’ll tell you to stop.”

“Alright...”

He gave in, lips molding against hers. Their speed began to pick up, the soft, delicate intimacy turning desperate and rushed. Y/n began grinding against him, only noticing her actions as she lifted her dress to gain more friction.

A groan left Bonnie’s mouth, providing Y/n the perfect moment to slip her tongue into his open lips. They fought, Bonnie winning without much attempt. He grabbed at her waist, pushing her down to gain even more of the delicious feeling as her clothed crotch fretted against his own.

Realizing how public their environment was, he tightened his grip on her waist and prompted her to wrap her legs around his waist before he carried her to her room. A chuckle escaped the two.

Bonnie threw Y/n onto the bed, almost tripping over himself as he slid his trousers down his legs. His eyes followed every movement Y/n made. She noticed; sliding her dress down a little too slowly to be considered normal. Her smirk grew when she saw the way his own motions faltered to watch.

After the rest of their clothing had been strewn about the room, Bonnie stood at the edge of the bed, knees pressing into it softly. Y/n, mirroring him, wrapped an arm around his neck, palm resting against the back of his head, as she pulled him into a rough kiss. Bonnie ended up with his palms on either side of her head as she fell back, lips still on his own.

“Are you absolutely sure?” He mumbled, breath hitting her face.

“Bonnie.” Y/n giggled, rolling her eyes, “Just shut up and fuck me, you bloody idiot.”

“That might just be the most sexual thing you’ve ever said.” Bonnie’s chuckle mixed with Y/n’s as she playfully swiped at him.

“The ‘fuck me’ part or the ‘bloody idiot’?”

His eyes drifted down as he guided himself to her entrance, “Mm...I’m not sure... But I know I am sure you’ll be saying a lot worse in a few seconds.”

“Why’s th- Fuck!” Her arms darted to his shoulders within seconds. Her legs did just the same, trapping him and pulling him closer in the process. Bonnie held himself against her, motionless as they waited for each other to adjust to do the new feelings.

When she gave him the go-ahead, he thrusted into her gently, setting a slow, but steady pace. They’d never felt anything like it before. The feeling of her walls around his cock was new, yet so addicting. The feeling of him penetrating her soaking core made her eyes roll to the back of her head.

Whilst they felt they needed more, they were determined to make the best out of their first time. Their first time together and their first time ever. Although Bonnie had no sexual experience, he felt it was his mission to give her the best.

It was intoxicating. He swore quietly to himself as he pumped in and out of her. Every muscle in his body screamed at him, wishing he could let go of whatever was holding him back and pound into her relentlessly.

But he didn’t. He continued the slowed, steady, intimate thrusting. He could feel her warm walls clinging to him as he slowly slid out, then back in, repeating the motion.

“Bon...” She felt her eyes flutter closed as her naked chest pressed against his. He finally began to speed up, but continued refraining from being too rough. The desperateness in her voice broke something in him.

No.

It built something in him. A new feeling, yet so familiar from previous talks he’d had with his father.

A knot.

In his stomach.

By the way she was clinging to him, legs pressing into his ass to push him deeper into her, nails digging crescent shapes in his skin- he could tell she felt it too.

“Bon, I- It feels so good...”

The room was quiet...apart from the creak of her bed, ungodly groans and moans, their breaths uneven and mixed, as well as the sound of skin slapping against skin.

“What feels good?” He thrusted. “Say it.” Thrust. “Ple-please. I need to hear you say it.”

“Your cock. It- It f-feels so good!” Her back arched, nipples rubbing against his chest again. It was his turn. His eyes closed and he bit his lip- almost hard enough to draw blood.

Bonnie’s lips found themselves against her neck, sucking marks and grinning at the sound of her moans. He was close. He swore he could cum right then and there if she so much as whimpered his name.

His hand slid down to rub at her clit, motions causing more of the lewd sounds to spill from Y/n’s mouth. He found them ironically angelic.

Then- 

The rope snapped. The rope in each of their guts had pulled, snapping as a wave of pleasure washed over the two. Cumming, almost in synch with her lover, Y/n screamed his name like a prayer. It’s what prompted his orgasm; the way she screamed it.

“Bonnie!!”

He fucked her slowly through it, peppering kisses over the darkening marks he’d made. A chuckle tumbled from his lips as he slowed to a stop.

“W-what?” She was struggling to regain her breathing, Bonnie doing the same.

“I-I told you.”

“Told me what?”

“I could get you to say worse. So tell me, Y/n. How did my cock feel?” Bonnie broke into wholehearted laughter as Y/n rolled her eyes. She pulled his face back to hers by her grip on the back of his head, which had returned only moments ago.

“Fucking amazing, idiot.”

[callmemythicalminx]

Wonderin’ What If - Sam Trapani x Reader

Fandom: Mafia Definitive Edition

Warnings: Mild language, that’s about it. 

Summary: Morello is finally dead and the family are celebrating. You and Sam have been in a relationship for a while now, but he wants to keep it secret to protect you. You expect to celebrate the end of the gang war without your man, but Sam has other ideas...

A/N: Surpise 1! Yayyyyy! I know Paulie is next, but I like to balance out my works between smut and fluff, so here’s a little Sam fic to brighten your day! The other surprise will come a little later...  👀👀👀

Dedicated to: @kaiiiiiiparkerismyhusband @lolita-wolfson@mayday1284 @xxsamanthaxx @kneelingforvillains @loutino20@levitate-gengar @dorothynerding ​ @blackbladevika ​ @my-blog-for-me ​ @rammstein-obsession ​ @octorebel @demonsouthere

The atmosphere is positively electric tonight at Salieri’s. It’s a far cry from what it was like this morning when the order was finally made to kill Morello. Everyone was stressed, worried of what was to come, but now there’s smiles all round, booze flowing and music in the air. You and Sarah had got to decorating out back behind the bar as soon as you heard word from your brother Paulie that the job had been finished. In a few short hours, the area had been transformed into a lively party space, ready for a grand celebration. There were fairy lights hanging, creating a cocoon of warmth with the fires lit around the space. There were tables and chairs scattered everywhere, filled with drinks and a banquet of food. 

The whole family is gathered, laughing, dancing and getting drunk. You stand off to the side, leaning against the wall of the garage waiting for Ralphie to come out. When this war started, you promised him a dance if you made it this far, so now you’re all too happy to pay up. He emerges, all smiles, and you beam back at him. You grab his hand and practically drag him to the makeshift dance floor you created earlier, happily laughing when Ralph holds your hands and begins dancing in exaggerated steps. The melody of your happiness joins in chorus with the rest of the family’s joyous celebrations. 

You’re too occupied in your happiness to feel the gaze of the man standing against the wall in the corner, smoking amidst the shadows. The steel grey eyes of the man you adore so much look at you with warmth, a slight crack through his usually stoic expression. You’d blush if you knew he was looking at you in such a way, but as you twirl around the dance floor, your cheeks already bloom red. When you laugh again, the noise echoing through the courtyard, you have no idea just how sweet it sounds in the man’s ears. As he stands there watching you, he wishes he were the one twirling you, making you laugh in front of his family, instead of only in secret back at his apartment. He wants to kiss you in public, hold you close when he walks you home after working late at the bar. If he wasn’t so afraid of losing you, he’d take you into his arms right now and kiss you in front of everyone. 

“You’re drooling Sam.” The man in question whips his head towards the sudden noise, glaring when he sees Paulie standing there smirking. 

“Fuck off Paulie.” He says it with anger in his voice, but his best friend can read him like an open book. He leans closer to Sam, wiggling his eyebrows as he laughs drunkenly. 

“Don’t go acting all defensive now pal! I ain’t blind! I know there’s something goin’ on between you and my sister. For fuck sake, you standing here watching her for the past ten minutes is proof enough.” Sam’s head shoots back, eyeing Paulie with annoyance but he can’t argue- he knows he’s been caught red handed. Instead, he looks down, taking a large puff of his cigarette. 

When a large hand falls roughly onto his shoulder, breaking him from his reverie, Sam looks up to see Paulie leaning against him. 

"I don't mind you being with her if that's what you're worried about. I know she's gonna be well looked after with you." 

He sighs. "Paulie, buddy. You're drunk. You won't rem-" 

"Shhhhh!" Paulie's finger smacks against his best friend's lips, shutting him up while nearly poking him in the eye at the same time. Sam smacks his hand away, but can't help letting a small smile appear at his friend's drunk antics. "She's crazy about you Sam, I can see it in the way she looks at you like your her whole fucking world!" 

Paulie shakes Sam as he speaks, pushing more of his weight onto his friend. The sober of the two grunts from the weight, a small breathless laugh bubbling from his throat. Still though, Sam doesn't say anything. 

Paulie sighs. "I know you're worried about losing her. It's fucking wearing me out too knowing everytime I leave for a job, I might never see my sister again. If she makes you happy though pal," he pats Sam's shoulder gently, " it’s better to love her properly now than spend the rest of your life living in the shadows, wonderin’ what if.”

Sam looks up at you, now sharing a drink and some laughs with Tommy and Sarah. His heart clenches when he sees you look between the couple, your face going sad for a second when you watch them hold each other close. 

"I love her Paulie. It fuckin' scares me how much I care for her." He looks at his friend, clearly showing the battle raging in his eyes. Is he selfish enough to keep their relationship private, just so he can keep from worrying? Or should he show just how much he cares for you in front of everyone, so that you can finally be truly happy? Paulie recognises the pain in his friend’s eyes and clasps Sam around the neck, pulling his face towards his. He shakes his best friend slightly as he grates "Go get her pal. Make my sister happy." The two embrace with one of those manly hugs, slapping each other on the back. 

"Thanks Paulie." He pats him on the shoulder. After a smile of encouragement from him, Sam throws his cigarette to the ground and makes his way towards you. 

---

You're smiling at Tommy and Sarah slowly dancing when you suddenly feel a comforting presence at your back. You look behind you to see those pale grey eyes you love so much looking down at you with an unreadable yet warm expression. 

"Will you dance with me Y/N?" he holds his hand out for you to take. You hesitate at first, trying to figure out what’s going on in his mind, then take his hand, letting him lead you to the dance floor. The eyes of everyone seem to follow you, surprised not only that Sam is partaking in the celebration, but that he’s going to dance with you. Even Tommy looks surprised when you both stop beside him. 

Sam gently takes you into his arms, beginning to rock gently. You lay your hands on his shoulder and upper arms, caressing him as discreetly as you can. 

“Sam I-I don’t understand what’s happening. Why are you dancing with me?” You whisper it between you, your voice breathless. The combination of being this close to Sam in general, nevermind in front of your family, is making you feel weak at the knees. You distinctly wonder for a moment where your brother is and what he thinks about this, but then you’re twirling. 

You spin back into Sam’s arms, to find him looking down at you with a small smile. “I wanted to celebrate with my girl.” Your eyes squint in confusion again, but he offers no other response. 

“I want to celebrate with you too. But-but what about keeping us a secret? Everyone is looking at us, they’re gonna suspect something!” 

"I know. I want them too. I want them to know you're my girl.” Then his lips are on yours, effectively cutting off your gasp of shock. You stay stock still for a second, letting the shock wear through, then melt into Sam, turning your head so he can deepen the kiss. His arms wrap around you tighter and you can’t stop the giddy feeling that explodes in your body. You smile against his lips. 

"Fucking finally! Tommy you owe me 100 bucks!" Paulie yells from one of the tables, breaking you and Sam apart. You look towards your brother, seeing him smiling smugly while Tom and Sarah stand frozen, staring at you with their mouths open. The rest of the family look at you in pretty much the same way until Vinny whistles, cheering too. You laugh, tucking your face into Sam's neck. He hugs you close, letting out a throaty laugh himself. 

As you continue to dance with your man, this time your heart full with the love of your family around you, you can’t help smiling up at him like you’ve just become queen of the world. You never thought you’d be able to be with Sam this way, away from the confines of his apartment. In your heart, you know he’s scared of losing you. But as he looks down at you now, happier than he’s ever been in his entire life, you know he’s willing to do anything to keep you in his arms forever. 

---

Thanks for reading minxies! I can’t wait to reveal the suprise!

(Unedited)

[set-phasers-to-whump]

feel the heat

prompt: overheating

whumpee: nick burkhardt

fandom: grimm

hi! welcome to my first fic for @summer-of-whump! i’m super excited to be doing this event and finally getting back into writing lmao. shit has been crazy but now i get to relax and beat up my faves :) hope you enjoy this one!

“It’s gonna be a hot one out there today, Portland,” announces the DJ on the car radio. “Temperatures are expected to rise into the high nineties and possibly even break 100, so stay cool if you can.”

Hank casts a glance at Nick, who even today is wearing his usual long-shirt-long-pants outfit. “You’re gonna melt, man,” he warns, making the turn that’ll lead them to their latest crime scene - a body at the top of Mt. Tabor Park, stabbed to death and discovered by a jogger early that morning. 

Nick shrugs. “I’ll roll up my sleeves if it’s really that hot.” Privately, though, he has no intention of exposing his arms today. They’re covered in some fairly scary-looking and difficult-to-explain marks, courtesy of a run-in with, of all things, an unusually angry and confrontational Eisbiber. He’ll sacrifice a little discomfort in exchange for no one wondering what the hell kind of animal he’d gotten into a confrontation with.

They arrive at the park, climbing out of the car and into the sweltering midday heat. It’s a bit of a walk up the hill to their murder scene, and by the time they arrive Nick is already feeling the effects of his ill-chosen clothes. But there’s nothing that can be done about it now, so he pushes the discomfort aside and approaches the body. 

‘Stabbed to death’ seems somehow like an understatement in this particular case. The body is absolutely covered in stab wounds, each one at least two inches long and the majority of them fairly deep. Someone had certainly been angry, or had wanted to be really sure that this person was dead. 

“Damn,” Hank says, which sums up Nick’s feelings on the matter quite well. He takes a step closer to the body, then looks up suddenly as something catches his attention. It’s a person, he realizes, trying very hard to sneak away from the area unnoticed. But they must sense his attention, because all of a sudden they start running. Naturally, so does Nick.

Hank’s eye catches the movement at the same instant that Nick takes off running down the other side of the hill. Someone is racing off through the trees, dressed all in black and obviously fleeing something, presumably the police presence at the scene of the murder they committed. He starts running as well, and although Nick has a couple seconds and his Grimm-ness to his advantage, Hank catches up to him after no more than a minute, panting, with his hands braced on his knees. He’s definitely regretting his choice of clothes right now, Hank thinks, scanning the scenery around them for any signs of their possible killer. 

“Lost them,” Nick voices Hank’s thoughts as he straightens up. He gives Hank a rueful sort of half-smile and then takes a look at the hill they’ve just run down. He really wishes that they didn’t have to climb back up it. He feels sort of...odd. Weirdly dizzy, and way too tired for the fairly small amount of running he’s just done. That’s probably not good, he thinks, and then starts the unavoidable walk back up. 

Hank walks beside Nick, who is walking at a slower pace than normal. He wonders why in the hell Nick doesn’t roll up his sleeves, or at the very least undo the top button of his Henley. Hank himself is hot and more than a little uncomfortable in his t-shirt and lightweight pants, and he can only imagine how much more uncomfortable Nick must be. Maybe it’s a Grimm thing, he figures. Maybe Nick is less sensitive to extreme temperatures, or something.

Nick so desperately wishes that Grimms were resistant to the heat. But if anything, it feels like he’s more susceptible to it. The air is like a thick blanket wrapped way too tightly around his body, slowly suffocating him, cutting off the air to his lungs and making him feel like he might just collapse at any second. He imagines his choice of clothes today is also not helping, but his arms feel too weak to reach up and undo a button, and the sleeves are a non-starter regardless. At least they’re almost to the top of the hill…

Nick and Hank step back into the main part of their crime scene just as the techs are packing up. Wu waves them over from where he’s standing next to a bench, looking at something in his notebook. “We’re just about done here, unless you guys noticed anything else while you were running away?”

Hank waits for Nick to tell Wu about the person they’d seen fleeing, but after a second it becomes clear that Nick must be expecting Hank to speak, so he says, “we saw someone running off down the hill. We followed them, but they got away. I didn’t get a good look - just that they were dressed all in black. Did you get a better look?” He turns to Nick with the question. 

Nick shakes his head once, then immediately stops when the world starts spinning. He closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths, pushing down a sudden, intense wave of dizziness and nausea. Something is wrong, he thinks, but he has no idea what it is. 

“Nick? You good?”

Nick opens his eyes at Wu’s question. “Yeah,” he manages to say. He thinks he should probably elaborate a little, but he really doesn’t have the energy. 

“O...kay,” Wu says, glancing between Nick and Hank like he’s maybe missed something. Hank, for his part, is looking at Nick, who is looking a little bit off. His face is pale, his eyes are unfocused, and he generally looks kind of miserable. But before he can ask Nick whether he’s really okay, Wu is continuing. 

“If that’s all you guys saw, I’ll let the Captain know. I don’t know how much we’ll be able to do with ‘running figure, dressed all in black,’ but it’s something.” He pauses for a second, wipes a hand across his forehead. “They must be crazy, wearing head-to-toe black in this heat. Now, I think I’m gonna retreat to the air conditioning in my patrol car, if you don’t mind.”

With that, Wu heads off, meandering down the path to where his car is parked. 

“Let’s follow him,” Hank says, starting off after Wu. “Some air conditioning sounds pretty damn good to me right now.”

Nick tries to follow him, but his legs feel like they’ve suddenly turned into lead. “Hank,” he says, reaching out a hand to try and tap Hank’s retreating shoulder. 

He misses wildly, obviously, but Hank turns around anyway. “You okay?”

Talking feels like the most difficult task in the world, but after a moment of intense concentration, Nick is able to string a few words together. “I feel…” 

How does he feel again? Oh. Right.

“Really bad.”

His knees choose that exact moment to buckle, and fortunately Hank has also chosen that moment to hurry back over to Nick. He catches him before he hits the ground, then wraps an arm around Nick to keep him standing. 

This close, he knows something isn’t right. Nick is shaking, and far sweatier than he should be, even considering his warm clothes and recent physical activity. Hank puts a hand to the side of his neck and feels Nick’s pulse, which is absolutely racing beneath his fingers. His skin is strangely cold to the touch. Heat exhaustion.

“We need to cool you down,” Hank says firmly, moving his arm to wrap around Nick’s waist as he begins walking towards the car. 

“Wha’s happening?” Nick mumbles, his feet dragging along the ground. He tries to make them move, but they refuse. He feels so bad. 

“You have heat exhaustion, and if we don’t cool you down, you’re going to have to go to the hospital. This turns into heatstroke and it can kill you,” Hank says, reaching into his pocket with the hand that’s not currently preventing Nick from faceplanting into the ground and grabbing his keys. 

Nick catches the words “exhaustion,” “cool,” and “hospital,” and immediately uses what little strength he currently possesses to try and pull away from Hank. “No hospital,” he says pleadingly. He hates the hospital.

“You won’t have to go to the hospital as long as you cool off,” Hank repeats. He pushes the unlock button on the keys. “We’re almost to the car, and then you can sit down and we’ll turn on the air conditioning and get you some water.”

“‘Kay,” Nick agrees, again having heard approximately half of Hank’s words but getting the general sense of what they mean, which essentially boils down to no hospital, which is more than good enough for him. 

They reach the car at long last, and Hank carefully leans Nick against the side of it as he opens the passenger door. He guides Nick inside and closes him in, then circles around the front of the car and gets into the driver’s seat, wincing at the stagnant heat trapped in the car. He quickly turns on the engine and cranks the air conditioning on full blast, slamming his door. That done, he leans into the backseat, searching for the water bottle that he knows he’d left in there the other day. He finds it underneath the seats and pulls it free triumphantly, then hands it to Nick. 

“It’s gonna be warm, but it’s better than nothing. Drink it all,” he instructs. 

Nick doesn’t say anything, but his shaking hands twist off the cap, and he drinks the whole bottle. It is unpleasantly warm, as Hank had warned, but it feels like the best thing in the entire world anyway. He actually starts to feel a little bit better, and cautiously opens his eyes. 

And promptly shuts them when the world starts spinning again. ‘A little bit better’ from ‘really bad’ is still pretty bad, evidently. 

“Try putting your head down,” Hank says, gently prying the empty bottle from Nick’s hands. “It might help with the dizziness.”

Nick complies, resting his head between his knees and trying to take a few deep breaths. He feels Hank reach across him and buckle his seatbelt, and then they’re moving, and he’s suddenly very glad that he’s already in the anti-dizziness position. 

“Where we going?” he asks quietly, when he feels somewhat like he can speak.

“My place,” Hank says. It had seemed like the easiest option. It’s closer to the park than Nick and Juliette’s, and certainly closer than the precinct or Monroe and Rosalee’s. He answers the question he’s sure Nick would be asking if he felt up to it. “I texted Wu and told him. He said he’d let Renard know that we’d both be taking off early today.”

Ordinarily, Nick would argue against this decision, try to insist that he is fine and fully capable of going back to work. But honestly, he feels so far from fine right now, and the thought of lying down on Hank’s couch with the fan going and a nice cold glass of water sounds like heaven. So just this once, he doesn’t fight it. He lets Hank take care of him.

thanks for reading this! i hope you enjoyed :) i did a lot of research on temperatures and heat exhaustion and whatnot for this and had a good time lol. also i feel the need to say idk if we ever know where hank lives so the part ab him living closer to the park is just made up on my part. 

[merinnan]

Fic Tag Game

Grabbed from @hils79, because it looked like fun.

Name: Merinnan, which I’ve gone by for... fifteen years now, I think? Prior to that, I mostly used Calicia (and sometimes Zoi).

Fandoms: Like Hils, I’m only going to list the fandoms I’ve actually written fic for.

Star Trek: My very first fandom, and the one I’ve written the most fics for (so far - I suspect that DMBJ will overtake it. It certainly already has in terms of word count). I was (and am still) primarily a DS9 fan, and was a huge Kira/Dukat and Garak/Bashir shipper back in the day. Most of my Trekfics are DS9 fics, but I also dabbled a little bit in TOS and TNG, and had one or two crackfic crossovers that involved Voyager characters. Discovery has tempted me with a few fic ideas, but I haven’t written anything for it yet.

Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon: aka, the show that first had me seriously questioning my sexuality. Look, Haruka and Michiru are #goals, don’t judge me. This is also where my Zoi name came from, after the first season villain Zoisite, whom I cosplayed several times. Unsurprisingly, my main ships are HaruMichi and KunZoi. Despite this fact, neither of my published Sailormoon fics are HaruMichi.

Bubblegum Crisis Tokyo 2040: A short-lived fandom, but one I still liked enough to write a fic for and get the OST CD.

World of Warcraft: I wouldn’t say I’m really part of the fandom, per se, but I’ve been playing since the dying days of Burning Crusade, am a huge lore nerd, and started writing a crossover fic that is currently on indefinite hiatus. I do plan to come back and finish it, but first RL got in the way, and now I have to try and remember where I’d actually been planning to go with it.

A Court of Thorns and Roses: That crossover fic I just mentioned? Yeah, this is what it’s a crossover with. ACoTaR fandom went sleepy for awhile, but it’s back up and kicking now that A Court of Silver Flames is out - if any of you are still following me, it’s great to see everyone active again! To the surprise of no-one who knows me, I’m a big Nessian shipper.

Mo Dao Zu Shi / Chen Qing Ling / The Untamed: I came to this fandom via ACoTaR, actually, after a certain person (hi, @rhysand-vs-fenrys!) wouldn’t stop gushing about it :-) This is the fandom that really and seriously got me back into regular fic writing again after 15-ish years. I’m a multishipper here, and have written / am writing WangXian, NieLan, XiCheng, XuanLi, and XiSang.

Guardian / Zhen Hun: MDZS fandom led me to Guardian, which, along with DMBJ, has devoured my life in a way that hasn’t happened since my Star Trek days, and I love it! WeiLan is my major ship, but I’m also quite fond of the DaMian life raft.

Zhu Yilong: Yes, I’m going to list a person as a fandom. Zhu Yilong is one of the stars of Guardian, and is both incredibly pretty and an incredibly talented actor. So much so that I have suffered through some truly terrible dramas just to watch him in them. I do not write Z1L-fic, since RPF of living people is a personal squick of mine, but I am working on a massive crossover fic of most of his characters.

Mo Du: Guardian led me along to more of Priest’s works, such as Mo Du, which is now officially my favourite book, and I adore the main WenZhou ship. The Mo Du fandom right now is pretty tiny, and I’m still working on my first fic for it, but I hope that it will grow with the donghua due out this year, and the drama having just started filming.

Daomu Biji / The Lost Tomb: I initially came into this fandom because of Zhu Yilong, who played Wu Xie in the Reboot / Reunion / Chongqi drama, and then I got sucked into the fandom pit of all of the books and dramas and spinoffs, and it’s wonderful and fantastic. I have written so much for it, and have so much more planned. PingXie and PingXieSang are my main ships here, but I’m also a HeiHua fan, and very much enjoying the RiSang pool noodle that @kholran created.

Tropes: Hurt/Comfort and crack are my major ones.

Fic I spent most time on: A toss-up between Endings and Beginnings and Reunion, both DS9 fics. Endings and Beginnings is an alternate ending to the show, while Reunion is a Gul Dukat-centric fic set around, oh, season 5ish? Both were written for and initially published in print fanzines, so in addition to time spent writing, there was a lot of back and forth for editing, etc.

Favourite fic(s) you’ve written: Look, I honestly couldn’t say. I like most of the fics I’ve written, and there are several that I’m really proud of and really like.

Fic I spent least time on: Silent Graves, a super angsty DMBJ/Lost Tomb Xiaoge fic. I think I wrote it in like 15 minutes.

Longest fic: Cat’s Paw, a DMBJ/Lost Tomb PingXieSang canon rewrite fic I co-wrote with @xantissa, at  247 826 words. For fics written by just me, not with a co-writer, then that would be Nevermore, my WIP MDZS/CQL XiCheng Pacific Rim AU, at 22 276 words and counting.

Shortest fic: Every entry in my DS9 Drabbles series, with each one at exactly 100 words. Although if you count them as a quintdrabble, then Indiscretion (a DS9 missing scene vignette about Gul Dukat, set during the episode of the same name) at 169 words.

Most hits/kudos/comments/bookmarks/subscriptions: The answer to all of these is either Cat’s Paw or Nevermore, so I’m going to give the next highest.

Hits:  Those who fear darkness have never seen what light can do, a DMBJ/Lost Tomb PingXie supernatural AU fic co-written with xantissa.

Since this fic also takes the highest kudos, bookmarks, and subscriptions after Cat’s Paw/Nevermore, I’ll skip to the next fic along on each of those.

Kudos: Stars fall like diamonds, a DMBJ/Lost Tomb PingXie missing scene fic from Reboot/Reunion/Chongqi.

Bookmarks: A Knight in Bloody Armour, another DMBJ/Lost Tomb PingXieSang supernatural AU fic (but a different supernatural AU) co-written with xantissa.

Comments: Ears and Other Related Calamities, yet another DMBJ/Lost Tomb PingXieSang supernatural AU fic (of a different again supernatural AU) co-written with xantissa.

Subscriptions: The Rescue Job, a Guardian WeiLan Leverage AU, currently at one chapter complete and posted out of a planned five chapters.

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: We have plans for a prequel and a sequel to A Knight in Bloody Armour, and a spinoff fic for The Zhang Identity (a DMBJ/Lost Tomb PingXie AU that is complete but not yet posted. It will be posted in April as part of the Small Fandoms Big Bang).

Share a bit of a WIP: This is from an as-yet-unnamed post-canon fix-it fic for the Guardian drama:

It was hurting again. Zhao Yunlan curled up into a tight ball under the hospital blankets, trying to ignore it enough to try to get back to sleep. He knew it wouldn't work, because he couldn't remember a time when it ever did, but it was always worth a shot, right? He squeezed his eyes shut and held himself tightly for a few...moments? Minutes?...before grabbing his stuffed cat and clutching it while he forced himself to breathe deep, slow breaths the way the doctors back in Spring City had taught him.

Eventually, the pain died back down to its usual dull ache, the one that was bearable and let him play, and watch TV, and do school lessons with his mother. One day, she said, they'd find a doctor who knew what was wrong, why he hurt all the time, and the doctor would give him medicine that would keep the worst pain away so that he could go to an actual school and meet more kids than the ones who lived in their apartment block or who frequented the same playground that he liked to go to.

Zhao Yunlan tried closing his eyes again, seeing if he could go back to sleep, but he was far too awake now. He sighed, sitting up in bed and looking around the room. Again. It was just like the hospital rooms in Spring City, and in Kiyota City. He figured that if the doctors here in Tomorrow Mountains couldn't help, his parents would take him to yet another city, and the hospital rooms there would probably look the same, too.

Then, over the faint beeping of hospital equipment, and the quiet murmurs further down the corridor of nurses at the nurse station or seeing to other patients, he heard a soft sniffling sound, like someone was trying not to cry too loudly. He picked up his stuffed cat and looked at it.

"What do you think, Dead Cat?" he asked it. "Should we go and find them?"

Dead Cat didn't answer, of course, but that didn't stop Zhao Yunlan from assuming that it agreed with him, and slipping out of bed. His feet touched the cold tile floor with barely a sound, and, still holding Dead Cat tightly, Zhao Yunlan padded over to the door. He looked up and down the corridor, then left his room to track down the sniffling noise.

He wasn't surprised that it came from the next room. He was surprised that it came from another kid, a boy who looked to be about his age, huddled in bed and wiping his eyes.

"Hi," Zhao Yunlan whispered. The other boy looked up in surprise, then stopped to clutch his chest as he began to cough. Once he'd finished coughing, Zhao Yunlan and Dead Cat were perched on the end of his bed.

"I'm Zhao Yunlan, and this is Dead Cat." He held up Dead Cat, moving one of the paws to wave hello. "What's your name?"

The boy wiped his eyes again. "Shen Ye."

I tag: ALL OF YOU! Are you a writer who hasn’t done this yet? Consider yourself tagged if you want to be.

[wri0thesley]

Asfjfkdkf okay so, advice anon here again (sorry, I just got out of a meeting!) and like, I honestly don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know why I can’t do more than write one thing once a year. I feel like I don’t deserve to call myself a writer because I haven’t written a real fic since last May, honestly. And it’s not lack of ideas that are keeping me in this hellhole, it’s just that the instant I go to put them into proper words, I lose steam immediately and it doesn’t translate from thought to word document. And I know my mental health is fried because of the last year and some personal and work stressors that I’m sure have me burnt out, but it’s still like…I’ll think I’ll have motivation to write when I get home and done with the day and then it’s like pulling teeth to even so much as make a note so I remember my own idea to write later (which ends up being never). It doesn’t help seeing some of my closest friends having all kinds of free time on their hands and going out and joining rp servers and getting to hone their style and evolve and be great, and I’m happy for them, but I keep beating myself up about it because I feel like I can’t do it too. I’m a writer who can’t fucking write and I hate feeling like this.

And it feels like a double slap in the face with how much the writing community is popping off and flourishing too because it feels like unless I’m constantly engaging and putting out a headcanon post to remind people I’m not dead, no one cares. My blog is on the small side already and no one gives me any kind of feedback either and like, I don’t care if I have a few hundred or a few thousand followers, honestly. I’m so grateful to any person who’s read my work and thought that hey, maybe they’d like to stick around. It floors me that there are actual people who would do that over my work and I treasure each of them. But it also just feels like a lot of people don’t care to actually interact at all unless you have a substantial following.

Idk it all kind of builds up and like, I’m already feeling burnt out and then the combination of knowing I’m falling behind and that I’m not even someone who can call herself a has-been because I’m a never-was, it all just feels like a rock I’m trapped under. It’s really snowballed at this point and the more I think about it, the more frustrated I get, which only makes it worse. Legit I can’t think of a better metaphor for it than not being able to get or keep my writerly dick up enough to make any kind of content asbfkzg

Sorry, I know that was kind of a lot and I hope it isn’t overwhelming to read all that. You’re someone I really look up to as a creator and your input means a lot to me though, so if you have any words of wisdom, it would be immensely appreciated. But again, if this is like, too much, plz feel free to just ignore this, I don’t want to be a bother. Thank you for taking time to read this, I hope you have a wonderful day.

my response is long so its under the cut! <3

ah, anon! i have definitely experienced being burnt out and being unable to put anything down on paper - i'm very lucky that my main job is caring for my fiancee so i have a lot of spare time to do things with, so i can't say i know how you feel there - but that dread of having ideas that just don't translate? i know that very well. it's actually one of the reasons i like tumblr so much; it's so easy to just throw a paragraph or two together of headcanons in response and feel accomplished, if that makes sense? lots of my own personal favourite writers aren't people who are posting things every day, but i one hundred percent understand the fear of 'if i'm not posting, people won't care' (i must have written well over 300 fics at this point and i still feel like it).

i don't know what fandoms you're in; jojo seems to be quiet, but the other fandoms i've found myself in really very much are popping off. honestly, i think half the time popularity is just writing for the right character and it being seen by the right person who'll reblog it and everything will snowball. lack of interaction in notes doesn't mean lack of talent. i consider myself very lucky to have any kind of 'following' and it blows my mind people stick around, but i know a lot of that is because i post a lot, i write a lot, i don't shut up. i think a lot of anons/people are scared to interact with someone they haven't seen interacting with anons before. (as a side note, if you feel comfy sharing your url with me i would love to follow u ;_;. i think a big part of the writing community on tumblr is having the 'network' of people and i LOVE reblogging and reading and supporting other writers, and i know i'm in a fairly fortunate place that whilst i dont have a fuck-off huge following, i have a reasonable one who are very interactive and lovely!).

sorry i'm getting distracted! i'm not going to be like OH ANON YOU SHOULD WRITE FOR LOVE OF WRITING because that's ridiculous; we're all posting because we are small children presenting fics to an audience and saying 'please tell me if you liked it!'. i think most artists of any medium want validation and feedback and just to know they're being heard. it can be frustrating to work so hard on something and feel like you're getting nowhere; it's extra frustrating to know you have something in you that just isn't coming out.

a lot of advice i feel like i could give you might not even be that useful if you're too exhausted to do anything. i'm lucky that i'm one of those people who starts typing and doesn't stop. when i get bad writer's block, i just force myself through it. sometimes i use drabble prompts or alphabet prompts to force myself through it, or random generators (i know some writers who do drabbles that are exactly 100 words which seems like a fun idea but i'm so needlessly verbose it would never work for me). if you can find ten minutes of your day even to write a couple of words (maybe a morning might be better for you if you're tired in the evening?), it's amazing how quickly they build up.

anyway, i appreciate you feeling like you could come to me!!! i'm sorry if any advice i give sounds condescending or is just plain useless, i'm not actually that good at it but i very much understand where you're coming from and i hope things get better <3.

[aelaer]

Inspired by the X men ask: instead of Donna, what if Stephen's mutant powers manifest after she drowns? It's definitely writable with movie-only knowledge! (I think Stephen would have some scary strong powers).

This prompt is nearing a year and a half old and is my second to last prompt from 2019 so I wanted to try to get it out of the way as I attempt to do at least one prompt fic a month to clear my inbox of those remaining.

After being stuck on trying to figure this out for so long, I decided to approach it quite differently than I thought I would, and this is my first fic writing from this character’s POV. I made Stephen's age the same as Ben's for ease. I also prove, yet again, that my ability to write short things is very much lacking.

My interest in geography 100% leaks through, and I'm not sorry.

My thanks to nemmy for helping me decide the direction of this story.

Fate Won’t Compromise Fandom: Doctor Strange, MCU Genre: Gen, canon divergence Chars: The Ancient One, Stephen Strange, Donna Strange Word count: 5k Warnings: Minor canonical character death, near drowning

In the summer of 1995, The Ancient One felt a ripple in the fabric of reality.

Such ripples, while uncommon, were not unknown to her in her many centuries serving as Sorcerer Supreme. They happened as major events within their reality shifted from the threads found in similar realities across the multiverse. While change was inevitable between realities, commonalities often brought them back to follow the same paths, to hit the same major events, to survive the same catastrophes. Reality and time were excellent in creating situations that balanced the flow again and brought them back to their natural parallels across the majority of universes.

But sometimes, sometimes the fabric of reality and time was disturbed. It happened with a change, unexpected in its improbability and big enough that it diverted the parallel lines the majority of the multiverse followed to create a timeline that diverged, crooked and uncertain. If the ripple was small enough, the powers surrounding reality often fixed itself with countermeasures—new actors, new probabilities that helped bring time back to its parallel path. But some ripples, some ripples required intervention.

And this one? Well, this one absolutely shattered reality with its ripple effect.

Hmm. It was time to consult the Eye of Agamotto and see what changed.

— — — — —

Her time with the Eye was long in her search. With such a significant ripple, The Ancient One first looked at the immediate months coming, searching for change in the most important of events for the remainder of the year.

There was nothing different. Interesting. Then this was likely an event that changed the course of the life of an individual, an individual who was very important sometime in the future. She scanned the years following more broadly after that, coming upon the events of the new millennium, both mundane and arcane, that would change the course of Earth's future forever. They all came as expected, one after the other.

It wasn't until her search took her to 2016, the year before her own inevitable passing, that she finally came across the anomaly: Stephen Strange never made it to Kamar-Taj.

The Ancient One pursed her lips; this was not meant to happen. While her sight beyond 2017 remained veiled, her experience and intuition as well as glimpses across the multiverse gave her an insight into the likely path of Stephen Strange. And from what she had seen, he was meant to be the best of them all.

So what had diverted him from the path that was written in the course of time, so much so that its lack of manifestation caused such a ripple in reality? Surely it didn't change her death; she had accepted the inevitably of that decades ago.

(She first discovered her death after the chaos of WWII, where the Masters of the Mystic Arts fought their own war against demonic invasions looking to take advantage of the chaotic time. She looked to prevent such a thing ever occurring again, then found her death. At first she wasn't concerned, and made plans to avoid it, just as she had several times before.

But it was different this time. With the Eye of Agamotto in the past, she was always able to find a route that allowed her to survive and the world to remain intact within a dozen attempts of altering her actions. It took her over a thousand attempts over the next year to realize that, no, no matter what, she was going to die before the fourth month of 2017. She never lived further than that.

And in the course that seemed most sound to her, the most consistent, she was always by the side of the unsure, amateur, but potentially great Stephen Strange.)

The Eye confirmed for her that, yes, she still died in early 2017. However, the manner of death was completely unacceptable, as it led to Dormammu eating their reality. She had not seen that possibility since she stopped trying to find a solution to her death several decades ago.

(She wondered how Stephen Strange managed to defeat him. She did not sense the end of reality after her death, so it was with confidence that she knew he found a solution. What the solution was, however, remained unknown to her. It was most intriguing. He had such potential.)

The Ancient One finally withdrew from the encompassing powers of the Eye and allowed herself a frown. She hoped Stephen Strange was not dead. It would mean finding another like him, and quite soon so she may prevent the terrible future she just saw.

Still, the ripple she felt did but not necessarily mean death; it meant change, for good or ill.

The first thing to do was to check on what was, and what would hopefully remain, her future pupil. She directed the Eye to review the timeline of Stephen Strange, going to the moment just before the ripple in reality occurred.

As she searched for that moment, flashes of memories not belonging to her flipped through her mind's eye: the first was a pair of hands on the wheel of a car, left side, as it turned off the paved road to a bumpy gravel-filled spot of driving, then quickly smoothed out to a road less rough. A large brown sign with yellow, capital letters read "Lewis and Clark State Recreation Area", with a smaller "Nebraska State and Park Commission" underneath. "Weigand - Burbach" was spelt on a separate plank just below the main sign with the same dark brown backdrop and bright yellow lettering. In the backseats was excited chatter from two others, women. Surrounding the road were tall trees of various species, all different colors of green.

Another flash, and she was now watching a small motorboat being backed up into the water from its trailer by a young man—barely a man—into a wide lake. Beyond the water the distant shore was all but flat, with only a small ridge of hills giving the horizon any distinct shape. A shrill voice shouted behind her, "Don't crash it!" and the man in the boat shouted back, "Shut up, Melissa!" Giggles followed, and then a voice came from the soul she watched, a deep baritone that said, "But seriously, if you crash it, my dad will kill you." The young man in the boat retorted, "Fuck you, Stephen!" in return, and Stephen's body shook with soft laughter. The man successfully maneuvered the boat into the water, and a short cheer sounded behind her.

Then another memory, and she was now on the motorboat, far out on the water which shone as bright a blue as the sky above. A young woman—a teenager, as they said in English in the 20th century, now—was doing some sort of sport she was unfamiliar with, letting the motorboat drag her along as she hung on by a rope with a handle at the end. Perhaps this was surfing. The teenager completed a short jump on the waves, and from her point of view, the memory's host shouted, "Nice, Donna!"

Another flash, and she was the one at the end of the rope. She quickly passed through it to the next memory. 

Time had passed; it was late afternoon, perhaps an hour or so before sunset. Her host was looking at the boat's controls. A female voice—Melissa—behind them said, "Okay, Aaron's ready to go. Start it up." As the boat motor roared to life, another voice—Donna—said over the noise, "We should get out of the water after this. It'll be dark soon." The soul behind the memories, Stephen, shouted back, "That's why we have navigation lights on this thing!"

The memory shifted again, and all four were on the boat now. The sun was set behind the horizon and the sky was painted a soft yellow before it melted into blue, then black. Stars were already appearing in the sky. Surrounding her were the other three, Aaron and Melissa and Donna, and there was a strong feeling of content within the memory. "We should get back to camp," Donna said, and she heard Stephen sigh and say, "Yeah," in reply. "Your turn, Aaron," he added. Aaron said, "Dude, I'm wiped out. You do it." Stephen retorted in return, "No, you."

Then it shifted again, and she was looking up at the darkening sky when Melissa said, "That boat's going fast." Her point of view changed as Stephen straightened himself, and she saw another motorboat running straight towards them. "Stop!" Stephen shouted as he got to his feet, and a second later, Aaron called out, "Jump!" and Stephen did, hitting the water and diving just as their motorboat was hit and destroyed. He was facing down into the murky, black depths of the lake as suddenly something hit his back, and at that moment some sort of rope or netting caught his leg and its weight started dragging him down. She could feel the alarm running through the young man's head and the Ancient One wondered if she was going to be seeing his death, now. A strange pang of regret went through her at the thought.

But then a sudden glow encompassed Stephen's body, subtle but in the blackness of the water, quite, quite clear. Confusion joined his panic but before any other thoughts came to his head, he was suddenly out of the water and on the shore of the lake. He collapsed the moment he went from liquid to air, falling on his back before turning to his side to cough up water from the lake.

The Ancient One stepped back from Stephen Strange's memories and blinked again back in the normal passage of time. As the green glow of the Time Stone's powers faded from her body, she considered the last memory.

She knew, from all her viewings of the future, that it was about this time that the mutation that came to be known as the X-Gene started popping up in the population. It would eventually have an impact on the future of Earth. But Stephen Strange was not meant to have it—or perhaps, rather, it was never meant to activate. Not if the flow of reality and time considered this an anomaly in the general course of the multiverse.

His appearance within the order of the Masters of the Mystic Arts seemed to lead to the event that prevented Dormammu's entrance into their reality, so he—or someone of his caliber—was necessary to have under her tutelage. And as he was not dead, she needed to see what had to happen to work him again onto a path that was the best for the universe's survival, regardless of this unexpected development in his life.

It was time to consult the Eye once more to determine the right path.

—————

Using the Eye worked outside the flow of time, and so all the Ancient One's endeavours, though seeming to her to take several hours, in reality only took her about twenty minutes since she first felt the ripple. She had passed through various scenarios and glimpsed at various extensions of those scenarios as needed until she had an outcome that had her satisfied with her decisions and, more importantly, made it very, very unlikely that the universe would end to Dormammu in 2017.

(Her own future, strangely enough, grew blurry and uncertain the closer she got to that year, which she found quite intriguing. She would pursue the matter at a later date.)

For now, though, she had a job to do. And so she created a portal that led her to the north shore of the lake, at the beach where the small hills lay. At this point of time it was nearly dark, and so she conjured a lantern—one of the elegant ones that they used to craft in Japan, the ones she preferred—and placed a small, magical light within the illusion. It would reveal its true nature soon enough. Despite the rockiness of this part of the shoreline, her footing was sure as she made her way along the edge of the lake.

In a couple minutes, a voice, expected and now familiar, called out to her. "Hello? Is someone there? I need help!"

In all her experience of using the Eye of Agamotto, the Ancient One had gotten very good at differentiating all the viewed possibilities to the experienced reality. Reality was sharper in every way, and the auras of people's spirits shone brighter without the power of the Time Stone to stifle them. And in the night surrounding them, Stephen Strange's aura shone very, very bright.

Interesting.

When she came close enough for him to see her clearly, his eyes widened as he took her in. She knew her resemblance was considered odd by late twentieth-century standards, but the memory of centuries of lice infestations made hair still undesirable and robes were infinitely more comfortable than jeans. But she was aware of its oddness, and as he stared, the Ancient One took the time to also observe him beyond the fuzziness of the Eye of Agamotto.

The gangly boy sitting in the sand in front of her hardly resembled the arrogant, talented man she had come to know through her past use of the Eye. Just breaking the cusp of manhood, his hair was still fully dark brown, and he wore a sleeveless blue shirt with long swim shorts, all still wet despite the time out of the water. His cheeks were fuller with the last remnant of youth still remaining, and the look in his eyes was wild and unguarded. Filled with fear.

Quite different from what she was used to.

"Who are you?" Stephen Strange whispered.

"A friend," she answered. She placed the lantern on a rock before settling down in the dark sand near him, about five feet away. "I mean you no harm."

He continued to stare at her, then looked at his leg. It was bleeding sluggishly and would need stitches. "Can you please help me? I—I'm not sure how I got here, but there was a boating accident and I—I need to find my friends and my sister. It's on the lake, I swear, I don't know why we can't see it from here but the accident just happened and it can't be that far."

She let him finish before she broke the news. "You are about seven kilometers west from the site of your accident, on the north shore of the lake. I believe you call this part of your country 'South Dakota'."

Stephen's eyes somehow widened even further, then he quickly shook his head. "No, that—that's impossible. That's completely impossible."

"Just as impossible as finding yourself drowning at the bottom of a lake one moment and being on dry land in the next," she said agreeably.

The wide-eyed look seemed it would remain a permanent fixture on his face. "Wha—how—how do you know about that?"

"It is my job to know of such things," said the Ancient One. "It is also how I know that, if you are found so far from the site of the accident, you will draw unwanted attention upon yourself."

Stephen visibly swallowed and looked around them, as if the unwanted attention was already watching. "What—what do you mean?"

The Ancient One offered him a benign smile. "You are not the first to perform the impossible. When figures of authority learn such things exist, they pursue them. And your story would draw their attention. Historically, your country has been known to use extraordinary people as assets when needed. Many kingdoms and governments throughout time have."

A soft wind blew in from the south, causing Stephen to shiver in the oncoming chill of the night. Regardless of his discomfort, his wide eyes narrowed into something more calculating and thoughtful. "Why are you telling me this? What do you get out of it?"

"A future ally, hopefully," she answered truthfully. "I have no interest in taking you from your studies, Stephen Strange—yes, I know who you are," she said, the benign smile coming again as he startled. "Your name is the least I know about you."

He stared at her once more, mouth hanging partially open. As the wind blew through again, he snapped his mouth shut and rubbed his shivering arms. "And why—why should I believe you aren't part of these secret government groups, or part of something that wants to use me? Why should I trust you?"

She kept that slight smile on her face as she answered, "Because I offer my assistance and ask nothing in return. I will guide you to the shoreline just north of the accident, and show you where you may find help. I recommend a forgetful memory between the crash and you reaching shore, which is quite common in times of traumatic events. No one will suspect anything different about you, Mr Strange."

The boy fidgeted at the name, as if not used to it. He really was a young thing, wasn't he? "You can get me there? Do you have a car nearby?"

The Ancient One smiled and lifted her lantern. "Remember what I said, Mr Strange." She let the lantern disintegrate, leaving only the glowing ball of light. Stephen's mouth dropped. "You are not the only person who can do the supposedly impossible. Can you walk unaided?"

Stephen snapped his jaw shut at the question and looked down at his leg. He pressed his lips together, and then with a grunt, he slowly shifted his weight under his legs, most of it on his good leg, before he pushed himself up into a standing position.

She offered another slight smile and held her hand forward to create a portal further east along the lake. "Follow me." The Ancient One did not bother to look at his reaction to the gateway, but had the ball of light follow her through. When she turned, Stephen was limping just through the portal, and after he got through she allowed it to close.

They were on the shore again; to the south in the water, a mile or so away, she could see the distant pinpricks of shiplights at the scene of the accident. Stephen, too, stared in that direction. But she forced his focus elsewhere when she pointed to the northeast, to the pinpricks of light beyond the trees. "Do you believe you can make it to those lit buildings? It is perhaps two hundred meters away. They should have a phone."

He offered a nod. "Yeah. My leg's not so bad."

"Good," she said. "Then I recommend you go that way; it may be some hours before authorities search the shore for you." She looked back at him. "I would not tell anyone of what truly occurred to you; such tales have an unfortunate habit of getting out, no matter how private the story is meant to be."

Stephen frowned at her, and she offered him another one of her benign smiles. "I will come to see you again, after you have had some time to recover. Good luck, Mr Strange." With that, she let the glowing ball beside her fade out, and created a portal into one of the darker rooms of Kamar-Taj and left the young Stephen Strange on the shore of the lake.

—————— 

Two weeks later, the Ancient One created another portal to the midwestern United States, landing underneath a narrow strip of trees that bordered a small creek that made its way through wide fields of agriculture. The nearest field beside her was corn, and just beyond it was a half-harvested wheat field. The trees bordering the water were a mix of oak and pine, specific species she was not familiar with but that she could broadly identify due to the commonalities found within their relatives in the Eastern Hemisphere. It was just after midday in this place known as Nebraska, and the summer sun was pleasant in this corner of the world, with a soft breeze taking off the edge of the dry heat.

She saw no one at first, but if the sling ring brought her here, that meant Stephen Strange was also nearby. A faint trail followed the bend of the creek and she paused in consideration before her instincts led her to go southwest.

In a few minutes, she came upon him. While her step was soft, the silence of the trail around them should have alerted Stephen to her arrival. But his back remained turned to her as he sat beyond the narrow trail and on the slope that led into the creek bed. His chin was propped on his knees and, since he had not heard her approaching, the Ancient One knew his mind was quite far away.

"Mr Strange," she said in greeting.

The young man violently started out of his daze and nearly lost his seating as he twisted around to stare at her. It seemed to her that he had aged some years in the last two weeks; his eyes were dark and sunken with lack of sleep, and his entire expression appeared drawn and pinched. His lips tightened for a moment, then he said, "It's you again."

"I did say I was going to return," she reminded him. She approached the sloping hill beside the creek and sat down beside him.

From the corner of her eye, she saw his expression tighten again. She remained quiet as he gathered his words. "Did you know?" Stephen asked after several passing seconds of heavy silence.

The Ancient One kept her gaze on the small creek. She knew what he was asking, and she would not play any games pretending otherwise; it wouldn't serve her purpose. "I knew that, by the time I came to you, your sister had died."

The tenseness beside her did not lift; if anything, it grew heavier. "Did you know Donna was going to die?"

An interesting question. She considered her answer; a multitude of answers would lead to an acceptable outcome, but this was reality. "We don't get to choose our time," she started. "In some probabilities, the question of death is split between a thin line that sways from one option to the other depending on the reality. In other instances, death is all but certain." She spared a glance at him; Stephen's grief was now layered with confusion. "I am sorry to say that, in the wide expansion of possibilities, your sister's death was largely unavoidable. All points led to it."

The young man's face contorted in anger. "I don't believe in fate or whatever the hell you're talking about."

"Some may call it fate," she answered, and looked back to the creek. "I call it probability. You may have been told, at some point in your life, that there are random events in life that are unpredictable. This is untrue, at least on a larger scale. Each event of consequence has a set probability in occurring, with the powers balancing reality and time ever trying to keep them as consistent as possible in the grand scheme of the multiverse. Certain people are always born. Certain events always occur. Certain items are always invented. Around people of consequence, events play out so that they may help play the part that they are meant to play."

In the corner of her eye, she saw Stephen run a hand over his face. "Look, lady, like I told you: I don't believe in that bullshit. And if you're trying to tell me that my sister was meant to—" He cut himself off and turned his head away. She saw his knuckles tighten to the point of turning white with the strain.

She slowly exhaled and closed her eyes. She had not spoken with youth who did not know her for who she was in some many years; she could not remember the last time a young person had spoken to her with such disrespect. But she had to keep in mind that Stephen was grieving, and that he was absolutely clueless.

Perhaps if he saw a small glimpse of what she saw, he would understand.

"I would like to show you something, if you would allow it," said the Ancient One as she opened her eyes and looked at Stephen.

His eyes darted to look at her with a side glance, though he did not look at her fully. "Show me what?"

"What my powers allow me to see," she said. His eyes narrowed. "It won't hurt or leave any lasting effects."

She saw the internal struggle, but one thing she knew well of Stephen Strange: his curiosity always got the better of him. And as she expected, he relented and said, "Okay, fine. How do you do that?"

A slight smile appeared on her lips. "Like this," said the Ancient One, and she placed her thumb upon his forehead and connected her third eye to his unused, undeveloped one. She picked from her memory a set of images gained by using the Eye of Agamotto in conjunction with the Cauldron of the Cosmos to explore the realities across the multiverse, the images she picked up some years ago as she looked into the man known as Stephen Strange and what he became in other realities.

And the images she chose were specifically referring to his sister's death. As she let him see various versions of himself (some with slightly different physical features, and a couple further in the past, but so very much Stephen Strange), she said, "The multiverse is a strange thing in its consistency. Donna Strange was not born only to perish at such a young age in every reality, but the probability was stacked against her. And many named Stephen Strange have experienced the grief you feel now. It is not your fault that the universe stacked probability against her survival."

She removed her thumb from his forehead and Stephen collapsed, rolling down a couple feet down the slope before catching himself. Laying on the ground now he panted heavily, trying to gain his breath.

When he finally raised his head, tears were streaming down his face. "It should've been me," he choked out. "She didn't deserve to die! None of those—" He cut himself off and shook his head, then angrily wiped at his face. "I—I don't know what the fuck you were doing—"

"I was using my powers to show you what I have seen," she interrupted, cutting him off for the first time. "After what you managed to achieve at the lake, are my abilities really so hard to come to terms with?"

Stephen shook his head again and pushed himself off the ground so he was standing. The Ancient One remained sitting and kept her expression neutral. "Okay, fine, so you have some crazy-ass powers that—that make no sense. I get it, you did physics-breaking things at the lake, too. What the hell does that have to do with me?"

She offered a benign smile. "Surely you haven't forgotten your unusual journey from the lake to the shore. Or have you been telling yourself that it was all a hallucination?"

By the look on his face, it appeared that that was exactly what he was trying to do. That would do no good.

"Unfortunately for you, your powers aren't just going to go away," the Ancient One said. "Whether they will manifest under physical or emotional stress I do not yet know, but they will return if you do not know how to control them."

"And what, you can teach me how to control them?" Stephen asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Yes," was her simple answer.

Stephen's eyes remained narrow, then he cut off his stare to run a hand through his hair and shake his head. "And what would you want out of me in return?"

"Nothing you are unwilling to give," said the Ancient One. "You can continue your studies as you wish. Go on to become a doctor."

"How did you know—" He paused, cutting himself off, then shook his head. "You know what, never mind. Go on." 

She offered her smile again. "All it would require is some of your time to discover the extent of your powers and to learn ways in which you can best control them. Consider it an extracurricular activity, if you would like."

"And what do you get out of it?" he asked.

"The knowledge that those with unusual powers remain hidden from those who would exploit them," is what she answers, but in truth, it was so much more. Still, it was not yet time to tell him that; he was too young. Too green.

Stephen looked down and crossed his arms as he considered her words. His expression was stone, but she knew what he was going to answer. If there was one thing predictable about Stephen Strange, it was his curiosity and his hunger for knowledge. It was his ambition to be the best at whatever he set his mind to, and a new ability suddenly within his hands was one meant to be conquered for him.

He then nodded jerkily, just once. "Okay. Sure. When do we start?"

The Ancient One smiled and stood. "How about now?" She opened a portal to one of her private rooms in Kamar-Taj, where she was rarely disturbed. It would not do to show him everything of the compound immediately, but it would come in due time.

He hesitated. "I need to be home for dinner at six."

"That is quite doable," she answered, and waited.

A couple seconds of hesitation passed, and then Stephen Strange lifted his chin and walked directly into the portal to Kamar-Taj, over two decades earlier than expected. The Ancient One followed him and closed the gateway behind her, leaving behind the quiet creek to flow under the bright green leaves on a sunny Nebraskan summer day.

— — — — — 

The big happy moment for me in writing this fic was that the town I chose for Stephen to grow up in and alluded to in another story is pretty close to this lake, so that worked out great. The most disappointing discovery, on the other hand, was that the Google Maps car only got like, the major roads in Nebraska. That does not include annnyyyyy of the roads near the Lewis and Clark State Recreation Area. And their promotional video didn't help in determining the details I wanted.

But then *the best thing* happened and on the camp's location on Google Maps, some beautiful, beautiful person took a photo of the entrance of the campgrounds, which was the exact detail I needed. So I dedicate this fic to Denis F. and their photo. (We're gonna pretend that the road and sign's 100% been like that since at least 1995). As much as I'd like to make an excuse to go to a lakeside attraction for boating fun, I'm sadly not a millionaire and cannot throw away thousands for the sake of fic accuracy. Alas. Once I win the lottery, though, 100% will commit to this. (Also, it's January and freaking freezing in Nebraska right now.)

FYI, Donna was not surfing, but wakeboarding. I just doubt that the Ancient One has bothered to learn all the new sports that popped up in the latter half of the 20th century - especially as one as young as wakeboarding was in 1995.

Hopefully the emotional roller coaster in the last bit worked. I've had conversations that just went all over the place like that before—crazy emotional subject to another crazy subject that just shook you to the point that the emotional subject was put on the back burner for processing—so hopefully people can relate.

[snowdice]

Road Trips and Missing Persons (Part 22)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Patton & Virgil, Virgil & Janus, Logan & Patton, Emile & Remy, Roman & Remus & Janus

Characters: Patton, Virgil, Janus, Remus, Roman, Logan, Emile, Remy

Summary: Patton was just getting groceries. The next thing he knew, there was a knife at his throat and he was an unwilling uber driver. Virgil’s on the run after the murder of his dad, and it’s not just his paranoia that’s telling him he’s being chased down. He has to get somewhere safe, somewhere he can trust, and all he has is a couple of stories from his dad and a name: “Green Bellow Foods and Dispensary.”

Meanwhile, everyone else is trying to find a missing 15 year old, all with different pieces of the puzzle about where he is. It really is too bad that no one is answering their phones.

Notes: Secret Agents AU, knives, carjacking, kidnapping, murder mentioned, guns mentioned, pepper spray, blood mentioned, drugs mentioned, explosions, car crashes (more to be added)

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve affectionately named it the Goblin Brain Fic because it’s helping my brain actually get motivated for studying. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 My Master Post

Janus did not respond to Roman’s quip about the car. Instead, he shoved past Roman the second he heard the boy’s voice. Roman recognized the kid immediately from the pictures he’d been sent along with his mission directives.

“Virgil,” Janus said, crossing the room to get to his little brother without regard to anything else. “Thank god. Are you alright?” He grabbed his face and titled it as though to look for injuries. Nothing about what Roman had learned about Janus in the past few hours would have prepared him for the way he descended directly into mother-hen mode, cupping the boy’s face with delicate fingers.

He was even less prepared for when Virgil shoved his hands away with an eye roll and a “I’m fine, Janus,” and Janus immediately started to cry.

Janus pulled Virgil into a hug, and Roman winced in sympathy for Janus’s injured ribs when the kid hugged him back tightly. They should really get that checked out as soon as the two of them had their moment.

“I’ve been worried sick about you,” Janus said, voice all types of wrecked. The past few hours of worry that Janus had kept careful hold of lashed out suddenly, and it was even more than Roman had anticipated. “I showed up to the house, and you were gone, and the window was broken.” Virgil was getting a bit wobbly lipped himself, and Roman couldn’t exactly blame him with how gutted Janus sounded. “Where did you go? How did you get here? How did you know to come here? Did Logan send someone else after you?”

“Dad let the name slip,” Virgil explained, “and Mom sent someone to pick me up, but I’d already accidently heard that she’d killed him with the radio Dad keeps in his room. So, I really didn’t want to go with the man, and he was mean especially when I said no.” His voice cracked a bit as he spoke, and he too started crying. “I didn’t know where to go or what to do. At first, I just wanted to get out of the city so Mom couldn’t find me. Once I was out, I decided to try to get here because dad said he worked with the owner, and no one was answering their phones.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Janus said. “That was my fault. I broke my phone. I should have thought about you wanting to call me.” He pulled back to kiss Virgil ever so gently on the forehead.

“Hey, what gives,” another man said, and Roman blinked and actually looked at the other occupants of the room. Both Dad and Uncle Patton were there along with a man he didn’t recognize. Yet, his attention was quickly drawn to the speaker because that was Remy Gates and Remy was definitely supposed to be dead. “I was dead, and I didn’t even get that much of a heartfelt reunion.” Janus seemed to freeze for a moment and then turned to him.

There was a long almost painful moment of silence where Janus just stared blankly at Remy. Roman recalled the short conversation that Remus and Janus had in the car about Remy and how Janus was probably more upset about the man’s death than he was allowing himself to express. Remus clearly had known what he was talking about, because there was a stunned, surprisingly vulnerable look on Janus’s face as he looked at his brother’s father.

Remy casually put his hands in his pockets. “Sup, kid.”

Roman had never seen someone’s face change so dramatically so quickly. His face twisted up into a scowl and his eyes lit up with fury. He looked like he was about to finish the job for his mother.

“You bastard,” Janus spat. “You bastard, you aren’t even dead?”

Remy seemed unconcerned with the fact that the man was basically foaming at the mouth. “You sound disappointed.”

“Do you know how much stress and hurt you caused… Virgil?!”

“Virgil, huh?” Remy asked, and goodness the man must have a death wish. “Don’t worry, Virgil and I already worked that out. I’m going to teach him how to shoot a gun as an apology.”

“No! You aren’t!” the man next to Remy that Roman didn’t recognize said.

“Like that is a sufficient apology for all that duress! How could you?!

“It wasn’t exactly my plan, Jan,” Remy drawled.

“Remy please,” the man next to Remy said.

“Oh, well, pray tell, what the hell was your plan you absolute ignorant, wretched excuse for a human being?” Janus asked.

“Janus please,” the man said.

“Just let them do it, Uncle Emile,” Virgil said with a sigh.

Remy scoffed. “Oh, please,” he said. “There was no plan, obviously. Do you know me at all?”

Janus full on exploded in rage at that. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Where do you get off on being such an idiot all of the time? You have a 15-year-old child and you just waltz into danger like it’s nothing and almost die! I thought you were dead!”

And like, seriously, Remy really must be comfortable with the concept of his own demise after whatever had happened to him earlier, because all he said was, “What, would you have missed me?”

“No,” Janus said, far too intense for that to be the truth. In fact, tears started to prickle at the corner of his eyes.

“Aw,” Remy cooed, still mocking, but perhaps just a bit gentler now. He walked the couple of steps to Janus and threw an arm around his shoulder. “Don’t cry, kid. I’m okay. I promise.”

“I’m not crying,” Janus insisted even though his voice cracked a bit and the tears were starting to escape out of the corners of his eyes. He attempted to push Remy away, but his efforts were weak and easily resisted. He gave up a moment later. “You’re crying!”

“I’m really not,” Remy said with a chuckle.

“You will be if you don’t shut up and let go of me,” Janus insisted even though when Remy tugged him closer into a proper hug, he folded himself into the embrace like a small child and proceeded to cry into the man’s shoulder.

Well that was… an event. Roman didn’t know what to think about Janus at this point. He’d been cold, calculating, and scary at the beginning of their adventure, and now he was sobbing into a man’s arms.

“Aw, there it is,” said Remus cheerfully.

Janus didn’t look at him, but just pulled one of his arms out of the embrace to flip him off.

“As touching as this is,” Dad interjected. “Now that everyone is here and aware that no one is dead.” He looked specifically in Remus and Roman’s direction. The expression on his face was one Roman was very familiar with from his childhood. Roman grimaced even before Dad continued with, “Would anyone care to explain themselves?” in a dark tone.

Uh oh.

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 23

[hansols-yoda-boxers]

yessss i get so happy when people recognize how attractive woozi is!! so many people write him off because he's short which is horrible. let's be real, if he was taller everyone and their mama would be thirsting over his body because he's ripped and has wide ass shoulders. i for one am happy he's short and i would be just as happy if he wasn't. who the fuck cares jesus christ. it's not like you can change your height. it's not like how tall you are has a link to how nice you are or whether you help old ladies cross the street. it's genetics we can't change so why is everyone so hung up on it. i also hate when everyone pushes the cute label in his face because it's so obviously linked to the fact that he's short. like yeah he has his cute moments, but he's a grown man leave him alone. let him rest. i'd be pissed if every moment of every day everybody was calling me cute and dismissing my authority. he's my bias because i love his personality. i'm also the type of person who finds inteligence, ambition and emotional openness to be incredibly attractive. that's what drew me in. then i realized how insanely talented he was and that i'm really into his humor. and on top of that you have his very unique visual, that i can't place in any visual category. and boom, that's my guy. he's hot and you're all just scared because he isn't the tallest. stop it, get some help. and when you've let go of your toxic beliefs, come seek us big brained people. we might forgive you for your sins. sincerely, a jihoon lover who's over it

Okay I have many thoughts so let me try and organize them lmao.

So the short and cute things go hand in hand. Now I know the fandom didn’t just decide he’s cute one day. To be completely fair he was typecast as “the small cute one” by the company upon debut. It’s a thing they do to make it easier to get into the group. Some of the stereotypes are super easy to recognize. Seungcheol is the leader and “Dad” of the group, Jeonghan is the mom, Seokmin is a the sunshine member who’s always happy, Soonyoung as the hyper one, Seungkwan is the sassy one, Chan is the maknae on top, and so on. Some of these stuck around but of course ones like Minghao being the “cool cutie” were going to be easily outgrown as the group matured. And they’ve addressed it themselves. Wonwoo saying that he likes getting chances to share his thoughts and feelings. Seungkwan pointing out that because Mingyu is deemed a visual by the company is role is essentially “shut up and look pretty” even though he actually has a lot to say but doesn’t get to talk or speak his mind nearly as much as Seungkwan.

So when new fans in particular see him as cute it doesn’t surprise me. I mean they push it even to these days, using his cutest moments and adding little squeaky sound effects here and there in Going SVT to reinforce that he’s the cute one. It doesn’t surprise me that that’s the first thing people say. Heck the first video my friend every showed me of him was the oppaya aegyo. And I like cute so I ended up looking up more about him lol. 

All of that being said, I think most of us have been in the fandom long enough to know that he is more than that. I do get a bit sad when the only thing people say about him is that he’s cute because he is all the other things you said. I mean I won’t comment on the muscles because they scare me I don’t really care about physical body with my sexuality (nor, I should point out, am I actually attracted to any idol. Like I can say Jihoon is good looking but I’m not sexually attracted to him or any other idol). But he is very smart, and kind, and really loving when he’s close to people. The whole team loves him to bits and he loves them and it really shows. He pours his whole heart and soul into this team and cares about it with everything he has and that’s probably my fav thing about him. So leaving it at “cute” 100% sucks (tho he is far from the only member that suffers from this). 

(I also get sad when people call them all talented and leave it at that without acknowledging hard work but I have a whole other rant on the “talent wall” but like ultimately I think he’s talented but I find the fact that he’s super hard working wayyyyyyy more cool and interesting than just talent.)

I don’t know though if I agree that people overlook him just because he’s short. Now maybe they totally do and I just hang out with the right people who don’t say shit like that, but what I’ve found about biases is that they choose you. You walk in blindly and one or more of them just drag you into their lane lol. I have a handful of tall girl friends and I do know that there can be a level of teasing and insecurity can arise from your height. And I feel like short boys have it just as bad, if not worse with the way people are about masculinity. Buuuuuut I don’t know how much that affects bias? I mean unless your biases are just “this is who I would date/fuck” which is... a really strange concept to me personally tbh. So I like your enthusiasm on the whole thing, though I’m not sure I feel the same about where it all stems from.

As for biases, every fandom has their favs. It’s a sad thing about being a fic writer that if I take a good idea and give it to a less popular member it will get overlooked point blank. Seventeen has it’s most popular, overall the hhu but particularly Wonwoo and Mingyu. I love them, don’t get me wrong, but like more than half the carats I know Wonwoo and/or Mingyu is the top of their bias list. They are both wonderful, but it does mean that when I write things for them it’ll get way more attention than for the others. As for Jihoon, he isn’t the most popular but he isn’t the least popular either. He sits in the middle ground a lot of the time. I wish they were all even and everyone loved them all equally but alas.

I am really glad that in the last couple years they have been breaking out of their roles here and there. Moments like Soonyoung’s Hit the Road episode really stand out to me and just his general insistence that he’s introverted and shy even though a lot of people don’t believe it and think who he is on stage is who he is irl (which, sidenote, I loved that he talked about performance headspace and stuff cuz it’s such a cool thing hehe). I know everyone will always have their favs and it’s all good, I do too even if I wanna even out my writing so they all get equal attention but I hope that them showing us more of themselves allows us to see them all more complexly.

In the end, I love the spirit, but I won’t be condemning anyone lol. Adn let’s not get into the topic of sin. I try to keep that off this blog sakdjlajsldka

[porcupine-girl]

Untamed Fic Rec List

Look, most of these are reasonably popular fics already, so if you’ve been in this fandom for a couple months you’ve likely read them. Which is not how I normally do rec lists, but I’m new enough to Untamed that I’m still reading through all the fics by authors I know from other fandoms plus ones that have been personally recced to me, so I haven’t made it into the deep dive of underappreciated fics that I normally like to rec.

It doesn’t help that one of these recs is 445K, so for like two weeks straight it was basically all I was reading.

BUT if, like me, you are rather new to this fandom and its fics, here are some good ones:

The Same Moon Shines Series by sami

This is the 445K behemoth, made up of 23 works, and is technically made up of three interrelated series. The first fic, which establishes the whole universe/multiverse, is 139K on its own. Basically, decades into the canon future, WWX invents time travel.

He goes back to being born, but is reborn with all his memories intact. And he fixes, like, fucking everything and it’s so, so fucking satisfying. Everything’s not perfect though - for example, he like lowkey (highkey?) traumatizes LXC by showing him his previous life via empathy and that has some consequences eventually. Featuring ace poly JC/LXC/WQ triad.

Then in a cracky subseries, appropriately called “ridiculous future bullshit”, we assume that the main six from this universe (WWX, LWJ, JC, WQ, LXC, JYL, & Lan Sizhui) all achieve immortality and find out what they’re up to in the modern day, where they’re revered in the Five Nations (this does a great job of staying in the canon world instead of ours) but of course white Western assholes do things like try and make a disney movie called Hanguang-Jun and the Yiling Patriarch where they marry LWJ off to a girl.

And then in a third subseries, which so far has only one WIP fic, we go back to the canon universe, find out that JC and LWJ were stuck there watching WWX disappear in his time machine array (so WWX actually split off into another universe, he didn’t rewind his own), and so they get into the array having no idea what it will do but wanting to chase down the asshole they love. And so a third universe is born, where they are both born with their memories but WWX is not. I absolutely love seeing how different their priorities are from WWX’s in terms of what they want to change in their new life.

(Also: This is technically a MDZS fic that usually goes with novel canon over show canon if there’s a discrepancy, so if like me you haven’t read the whole novel you might need to look up some plot points now and then.)

The Vermillion Ribbon by @unforth

AU where Wei WuXian was taken in by Wen Qing and Wen Ning’s parents instead of the Jiangs. LWJ (who is the POV character) is a super DUPER dick to him at first, like even moreso than in canon, but the speed with which he regrets his choices is breathtaking and extremely satisfying.

LWJ is a VERY unreliable narrator. He has absolutely no idea what is going on with himself or anyone else at any point in time. Eventually he at least becomes self-aware of this fact, and can at least go wait am I missing something? I think I’m missing several somethings but fuck if I know what. Wei WuXian not understanding this about him leads to some miscommunication, because WWX doesn’t get that LWJ needs absolutely everything spelled out to him in single-syllable words with crayon drawings and y’know, WWX isn’t going to be straightforward anytime he can pretend he’s TOTALLY FINE :D :D :D instead.

LWJ’s friendship with NHS is magical, and NHS in general gets 810% more opportunity to scheme and plot pre-time-of-NMJ’s-canonical-death than in canon and is honestly living his best life. It’s also valuable for LWJ to have a scheming friend because, aside from realizing he misjudged WWX, this is how he starts to figure out that he’s a dumbass who has no idea what is going on ever. But he can count on NHS to always be ten steps ahead, so it’s okay.

(ETA: I’m sorry, I made unforth feel like maybe LWJ was too dense, and no, he’s very much not stupid in general. Like, honestly the fact that he becomes so self-aware of the things he’s bad at, and does things like trust NHS to always understand the stuff he’s missing, makes him come off as very intelligent. It’s just in the specific realm of understanding anything that people say or do that isn’t 100% honest and straightforward that he is just entirely hopeless in a rather relatable way, and like I said, WWX’s go-to is hiding any and all pain so that is a bad combo.)

The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou

This diverges from canon when WWX is on his way to Jin Ling’s one month celebration, but doesn’t bring Wen Ning along. So when Jin Zixun attacks it goes very poorly for him, poorly enough that Jin Zixuan thinks he’s dead and it’s reported back at Carp Tower as such. Sending LWJ into a dissociative state. He manages to break through to reality just long enough to find out that Jin Zixuan took WWX’s body back to the burial mounds and left it with Wen Qing, and to get on his sword and go directly there. Thankfully, it turns out that WWX is not dead, but only just barely so.

So LWJ stays there, because now that he spent some amount of time (he isn’t really sure if it was like five minutes or two hours, because dissociation) thinking WWX was dead he now knows that he should never, ever be anywhere but with WWX.

Honestly, it almost feels like a spoiler to say WWX doesn’t die, but there’s no major character death warning while there IS one for graphic violence so it’s not a chose not to warn either, so that’s technically not a spoiler. But things are touch-and-go for him for a very, very long time. And the romance is a slow burn with pining galore. And you get to see LWJ teaching A-Yuan to play the guqin, so like imagine being WWX and you wake up from almost dying to see that going on in your cave.

Velle: to will, to wish by @aerlalaith

This one is actually canon-compliant, and as it’s both quite a bit shorter and more straightforward, plot-wise, than the others, my writeup will be short but that doesn’t mean I loved it any less. Basically, it’s the process of LWJ deciding to adopt A-Yuan in the aftermath of WWX’s death. It starts just after he’s been beaten for turning against the other cultivators, and at first it’s mostly his grief and both physical and emotional pain. A-Yuan starts slipping in to visit him. and LWJ isn’t sure if he’s really okay with that at first.

Of course he becomes very okay with it, but the Lan elders and Lan Qiren and all aren’t just going to be like “ok sure you can barely walk you should def adopt a four-year-old of unclear origins who may or may not have something to do with your demonic dead boyfriend and the evil people he helped, that’s cool,” so it’s not that simple.

There’s a followup fic where, years later, LWJ chooses the courtesy name Sizhui and Xichen gives him shit for it.

save a sword, ride a socialist by sysrae / @fozmeadows

Continuing on my grand tour of Untamed fics by my fave writers from other fandoms, I get to enjoy having overlapped with foz on a third straight fandom which is just fabulous. I totally thought I wasn’t gonna read AUs and then this asshole comes along and writes AUs, which is not playing fair.

I especially love this because it’s modern day but much like ridiculous future bullshit it’s modern day in (more or less) a canonish world, not our world. So like, they fly on swords, but not long distances because it’s easier to take a train or drive rather than use up all that spiritual energy.

Lan Qiren and Jin Guangshan miss the old ways, though, and they think the best ancient tradition to bring back is arranged marriage! Because that will go over well with today’s youth. They try to make LWJ marry Mianmian but he’s like “um I’m gay” and LQ throws a hissy fit about that so Jin Zixuan (who is LWJ’s bestie and is fucking hilarious) hatches a plot for LWJ to cause LQ to stroke out by bringing WWX to Lan Xichen’s birthday party as his fake date.

But when LWJ and WWX meet up to talk this over, LWJ is instantly fucked because WWX has a small child with him and it turns out that this small child is the orphan he adopted. He doesn’t notice he’s fucked until a few days later, though, when WWX comes over for “kissing practice” and they fuck and he calls Jin Zixuan all “I think I caught a feel, what do?” and JZX is like idk, you’re a moron, don’t ask me to clean up your moron messes. And the next day LWJ buys a car seat.

Lan Wangji heard about Jack 110% Zimmermann and said “challenge accepted,” is what I’m saying here. And now I’ve written as much about this 33k fic as I did about the 445k, so I’ll shut up before I just recount the entire plot.

[unknownblanked]

Shameless self promotion

Main character: OC

Pairings: OC x Reborn

My fic:

*Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn*

*Rating M*

Summary: I have never wanted anything other than to be a boss. Sorry dear brother of mine, but I will become a better boss than you would ever become. Warning: M for a reason, not for innocent souls. 2 days updates

Kinda BL since MC who used to be a girl became a guy after transmigration. But idk what to even say at this point

Genre: fantasy/adventure/romance

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13908034/1/

First chapter preview:

Chapter 1

"Eff you! Eff me! Eff the world!" She shrieked with her lungs, hand pointed at the sky.

"I wanna hold guns and look cool in suits! I wanna be pardoned by university to become a boss! I wanna have a gang while playing background music!"

"IF I EVER REINCARNATE TO KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN, I'LL BECOME VONGOLA DECIMOOOOOOOO!"

Darkness enveloped her as she sunk deeper into the abyss, not knowing what was going on after that flash that blinded her eyes. Could it be isekai truck-kun? She scoffed at her own words, not believing a single thing that came out of her own thoughts. She felt a shuffle, then a thump as her whole world lifted in the air. Suddenly, a baby's cry chortled beside her, screaming.

What was going on? Was she being carried into some kind of ambulance? A hospital? Did she give birth-What? But she was still 19 years old and never touched a man's hand! The baby's cry grew louder, almost piercing her in the ears.

Was it even possible for her to remain conscious even though she couldn't open her eyes? She tried lifting her eyelids, but it remained glued shut, as if this impenetrable force was clamping down her eyes, telling her not to look.

A waft of air blew on her chest.

"[Papa! Look at them! Twins!]"

A woman's voice rang out loudly, but her tone was soft and melodic as the sounds of humans floated into her ears.

'...Japanese?'

"[Ah, but one isn't crying.]"

A man's voice rang out this time in front of her as she tried deciphering the words with all her experiences of watching anime for over 10 years. Crying? Did the man just say that 'one isn't crying?' Was he pointing to someone in the room?

She felt her whole world tip over before trying to flail, confusion ringing inside her mind before-

Slap!

"Waaaaaaaaah!"

'What the eff, bro?!'

She felt so sensitive-so...naked!

'Call my lawyer! I will sue you till you don't even have the freedom of speech! Lawyer! Lawyer!'

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalw!" She yelped her syllables that couldn't pop out of her mouth and tried again.

"Wawawawa-"

Something was weird. Very weird.

"[I think we've got ourselves a little weirdo from the get-go!]"

Her butt stung as she tried blinking her eyes, gasping twice and shaking her head to wake her up from this bad dream. Her vision stung the moment she did, lights blinding her as she screamed again, trying to bat away the light with her flimsy small fists. Through her blurry vision, she saw a man grinning from ear to ear before throwing her over his shoulder and patting her on the back. She humped, dry launching from the action as the woman's soft laughter rang from behind as her own eyes closed shut again.

What did she see? She didn't see clearly, but the world was so...colorful.

"[I think I have a name for this little weirdo already!]"

Name? What name? What the hell were these two strangers talking about? And why in the hell was she able to understand Japanese so clearly? And they messed up her pronouns-and-

She tried hard, fighting her clamped eyes, 'Almost there!'

"Sawada Isago! Golden dust for my career!"

Isago slammed his eyes open, blinking rapidly at the man who was now throwing his small body into the air, his golden-amber eyes completely dazzling Isago.

"Waah da dak."

His first words were swear words in English.

She stared absentmindedly out the front porch. No, he stared absentmindedly out the front porch this fine morning. The sky was bright blue while Isago glanced at the buzzing street of Namimori, a small town located at the edges of Japan. In the corner of his eyes, he saw a small bird land on one of the tree branches before someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Isa..go! Let's play!" Tsuna smiled sweetly at his younger brother, holding up his teddy in one hand. They were at the young age of four, Tsuna being born just minutes earlier than Isago. They seemed like twins, but one preferred a shorter hairstyle than the other, and their hair was in different colours.

"Hm...sure! What do you want to play?" Isago answered like how a four-year-old should and pushed himself onto his feet. Tsuna squeezed his teddy, pondering a bit before tilting his head to the side.

Tsuna was exactly the same in the anime, with spiky brown hair and brown eyes that shone brightly in the sun, his soft features held more of some baby fat than what was portrayed in the graphics, but still, Tsuna resembled Vongola Primo.

'Definitely a descendant of the Vongola family,' Isago quirked his lips as Tsuna explained his game of hide and seek, except the purpose was to hide and find teddy.

"Sure!" Isago chirped, holding his hand out for the teddy. "I'll go first then, since you never do, Tsuna."

Tsuna beamed brightly at his younger brother, giving his teddy over before Isago pointed to a wall in the corner of the room and Tsuna plodded over, covering his eyes as he started to count down from 100. Isago smiled slightly, tip-toeing to the washroom and turning on the lights to hide the teddy behind the rows and rows of shampoo bottles in one of the cupboards.

Isago frowned a bit when he realized that he couldn't reach the board, placed the teddy on the table and walked to the toilet that was beside the sink. He stepped onto the toilet, using it as his stepping stone and slammed his small hands onto the table, heaving himself upwards. Snatching the teddy from the original spot, Isago opened the cupboard and organized the bottles as a coverup, arranging the bottles so that not even the ears of the brown toy were visible from an adult's point of view.

Isago stepped down the table, plopping quietly onto his feet before listening to the countdown from Tsuna's mouth at the number 40. Isago smiled carefully, closing the lights as his gold eyes flashed through the mirror once, and Isago made his way to Tsuna's bedroom. Mom was cooking in the kitchen and humming about dad's arrival today.

Isago had retained his father's golden eyes, and yet had a shade of mocha as his hair color. Neither dad nor mom had the hair color, but Nana assumed that it was because her predecessor's hair color was close to black in the past. In contrast to Tsuna's spiky hair, Isago had flatter hair and was long, to the point that it was possible to tie it into a semi-ponytail. He had bangs covering the front in a slanted way, almost completely contrasting to Tsuna's cute and fluffy hair. Well, not that it mattered to Isago.

What was concerning to Isago, was that he was born as a boy.

"Ready or not, here I come!"

Isago heard Tsuna call from the bottom of the stairs before his small footsteps plattered onto the wood. Isago stared momentarily at the door before purposefully closing it and plopping down on Tsuna's bed. The bedsheets ruffled, crinkling a bit and Isago stared at his own crotch.

What the heck, this was so weird to have. It was so tiring to constantly have a thing dangling in between his legs. Even though it didn't hurt or feel uncomfortable, this new addition was a very mind-blowing...experience. Manspreading was also a new thing.

"Isago…?" Tsuna's face peeped into his own room and giggled before skipping over to his brother. "You must have placed teddy here!"

"I don't know," Isago replied with a small smirk. "Why don't you try and find it?"

"Teddy! Teddy!" Tsuna called cutely as if the bear was able to reply back to him.

"Tsuna, if you can find it then I'll ask mom to make your favourite Salisbury steak that she only makes when dad comes home!" Isago called as Tsuna's eyes fired up intensely.

"Steak! Steak! Steak!" Tsuna batted his fists on his crouched knees and started to chant it like some kind of song. Joy could be seen all over his face as he rustled his piles of stuff in the closet, then turned over to his desk and started rummaging in the drawers.

"Steak, steak, steaky, steak-"

Isago smiled secretly, knowing that Tsuna had no knowledge of dad coming home today. Honestly, Isago didn't know what to describe his dad. A good dad? No, he left his wife basically widowed from the moment they were born. A bad dad? You couldn't say that either.

Then again, mama never worked, so it was plausible to think that the house was bought and supplied with money from dad every year. Not to mention that the house was quite large for a family of three. Dad was probably also preparing the house to be the main hideout for the future Vongola.

"Iemitsu Sawada, huh?" Isago murmured his dad's name under his lips.

There was a reason why his dad stationed his family near the unknown town of Namimori. It was probably in order to protect them from the mafia. So in the end, was he a good dad? Isago watched Tsuna's fluffy hair swish in the lights as the sound of tires echoed into the neighborhood.

Isago lifted his eyebrows at the sound, turning his head to Tsuna's open window to see a short black car parked a few meters away from the Sawada residence. Isago stood up slowly, walking towards the window and hopped onto a small step box and leaned on the wall, crossing his arms together as he peered outside.

"Tsuna, let's rank this game harder. You have exactly 100 seconds like the countdown to find your teddy, or else the promise is off," Isago turned to Tsuna who's eyes widened like saucers, gasping before throwing his hands into the depths of his drawers.

"That's not fair, Isago!" The boy whimpered as Isago started to count the numbers from 100, forcing the small boy to sweat. Inside, Isago spotted a blond head popping out of the driver's seat.

The man was wearing orange overalls that were only pulled onto his waist. His dirty sweatshirt was worn in a fashion that showed his armpit hair clearly even from far away. The sight was disgusting.

"Men," Isago made a face, recognizing that it was his father. "66...67...68...69…"

"Isago! Slow down!" Tsuna wailed and rummaged through his toy box, tears streaming down his face at the decreasing numbers. Iemitsu pulled a construction hat out of the front side, then walked to the passenger's seat, opening the door to reveal another man wearing a blue vacation shirt with pink flowers on it.

The man stepped out of the car, smiling widely at his assistant who passed him a straw hat. As if the man noticed, his eyes flashed to the window, meeting the gaze of Isago. There was curiosity and wonder that passed through the male's eyes, but then greeted the child by lifting his hat and giving a salute which Isago returned with a polite nod.

'Vongola ninth,' Isago addressed the man quickly, curling his lips at the status before turning back to Tsuna, the numbers ending with the last count of zero.

"Isaaaagoo!" Tsuna sobbed into his long-sleeved sweater, sniffing as the sleeve soaked up his snot. "I couldn't find it-I'm sorry!"

Isago's eyes softened at the small boy, hopping down from the stepping box before crouching next to Tsuna who was on his knees.

"Tsuna, Tsuna, why are you sorry?" Isago patted Tsuna on the shoulders. Tsuna threw his arm down, staring at Isago who had a soft smile on his face.

"Be-because Isago's favorite...also steak…" the young boy blew his wet cheeks and Isago chuckled, pulling his brother into a large hug. That was not exactly true, Isago's favourite was sweet parfaits rather than savory main course meals, but Nana had never brought the two to a sweets cafe so Isago had made up his preferences to match Tsuna's.

"How about this, I'll magically transform the steak onto the table if you promise me one thing," Isago patted Tsuna who blew into his shoulder. Momentarily, Isago made a face of disgust, but once thinking that they were from the same blood, a smile was forcefully plastered onto his soft features.

Tsuna also realized his own misdoings, instantly freezing before wiping his own sleeve on Isago's shoulder, trying to correct the snot, only to make it smear even wider on the hoodie.

"I'll have to change my clothes," Isago sighed before pushing Tsuna away and walking to his own room. Tsuna followed like an abandoned puppy. His two fingers fiddled as he watched Isago pull his T-shirt off, and grabbed a random sweater before pulling it over his head.

"Mm sorry Isago…" Tsuna trailed off, staring guilty on the ground as Isago's head emerged out. "I will promise anything that you want! Forever!"

'What a dangerous promise, Tsuna,' Isago's eyes glimmered before turning towards his brother. The shadows in his room casted upon Isago's face as his grin widened almost too maliciously.

"Then promise me Tsuna, no matter what the circumstance you must not harm me. If you do, then our relationship as brothers are over." Isago's hair fell over his eyes as he brushed it back, getting a clear look at the boy's small face.

"Harm?" Tsuna tilted his head curiously at the word, repeating to make sure he pronounced it correctly. "What's that?"

"It means that I will be gone from your life forever, Tsuna," Isago's voice deepen with glee at the horror that flashed through the boy's face. Tsuna's hands instantly clutched the sides of his shorts, shaking his head furiously.

"I will never harm you! I will never! Never!"

"Good," Isago walked closer to his dear brother, jerking his thumb under Tsuna's teary eyes. The young boy looked fragile and broken at Isago's words, almost as if he couldn't imagine living without Isago.

"Because I love you so much that it may serve as a double-edged sword to both of us," Isago gave little Tsuna a small peck on his cheeks, smirking at Tsuna's pouting face as his fingers clutched the edges of Isago's sweater.

"I wove you too," Tsuna buried his face into his brother's sweater, murmuring the phrase until the front door was pushed open and mama's clear voice rang through the house, calling the two boys down.

It was true, Tsuna was a precious little brother to Isago, even if Tsuna was legally the older one. But that didn't matter in front of power. If Tsuna stood in the way of succession, then Isago would cut off Tsuna's arms and legs to prevent Tsuna from overtaking the throne. That was how cold-hearted Isago was.

But then again, was Isago able to do it?

That's why Isago would give Tsuna the choice. He would not harm Tsuna until his own brother decided that Isago was a threat to the family and his life. He would let Tsuna break their relationship, and make him wallow in despair. As long as Tsuna loved him, Isago would let him go. But if Tsuna disobeyed, then everything will be over.

"Come on, brother," Isago gestured towards the door, stepping forward with Tsuna holding him. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Iemitsu was grinning at both boys, arms extended.

"Weirdo Isago! TsunaTsuna! Papa is back home!"

The two boys huddled over to their papa, Tsuna waddling towards him while Isago was pulled into a large embrace, dad's hand ruffling in his hair as Isago grinned at the man. The smell of sweat and tobacco filled Isago's nostrils, instantly making him suppress a sour face at his own father. Mama giggled at the family reunion while Isago's eyes trailed to her, gesturing for a group hug.

"Oh, dear!" Mama threw herself into the group hug and Iemitsu kissed her sloppily on the cheeks, rubbing her face with fondness. It was then Tsuna noticed a stranger behind dad, smiling sweetly at the family after Tsuna opened his mouth with quivering fear.

"Oh, Tsuna! Don't worry, this is Timoteo-" Dad looked over at the grandfather figure, releasing all of us as he gestured politely at the man. "-My boss."

"Welcome!" Nana grinned, lowering her body into a 90-degree bow. "Thank you for taking care of my husband all this time!"

Isago glanced towards his mom, then followed, repeating the same words of thanks. Tsuna only stood there, confused and not knowing what to do and hid behind his mother, clutching her apron.

"Tsuna!" Mom bickered with a sigh but smiled soon afterwards. She patted me on the head as a 'good job' before apologizing for her son's imprudence.

"That isn't a problem," Timoteo said, softening his eyes at us before crouching down to our eye level. "I have to thank you for having such a wonderful father that I can trust."

'Of course, you're literally naming his son as successor,' Isago thought bitterly before pulling Tsuna out from behind mom. 'So who is it going to be? Tsuna, or me?'

Vongola ninth had to choose between the two of them because they were the only ones that would be left in the Vongola bloodline. If what Isago remembered was correct, there was more than one successor to the Vongola line, but they all died, which left Tsuna being the only one that could inherit the family.

Tsuna's hand started to quake before Isago squeezed it reassuringly, giving him a small nudge. Tsuna was still hesitating so Isago started first.

"I'm Isago, this is Tsuna, my older brother!" He deliberately said, lowering his head as Tsuna, this time, followed his younger brother's lead.

"Oh, he's the older one, huh?" Timoteo turned his gentle gaze towards the older brother and nodded. Isago pleaded that they were going to leave the throne of successor to the worthy, not the older. Isago was going to prove himself worthy, prove himself, to be a better leader than his brother.

Tsuna was not suited as a leader, maybe in the long run of taking care of his family members, yes, but Isago was more of a leader in the expanding and influential way.

'Give the role of successor to me, and I will hold Vongola to its glory. I will make Vongola the strongest in history, and it will flourish more than the past ten generations combined.'

Isago wanted the Vongola position. He wanted it desperately.

As if Timoteo could hear Isago's thoughts, the grandfather's eyes turned to the younger sibling, staring at him hard. Isago didn't move his eyes, only stared back and tried to convey the message through his gaze.

'Give it to me, I want it. I need it.'

Timoteo's gaze deepened, opening his mouth to say something as conflict passed through his face, then clamped his mouth shut. Iemitsu, sensing that something was sort of amidst, invited his boss into the house, telling the group that he was famished. Nana gasped, pardoning her forgetfulness before guiding the guest to the table.

Isago let go of the breath he held inside, looking towards Tsuna who was staring at the grandfather.

[toglidethroughlife]

Brighter Than Any Star:

An intimate look at everyone’s new favorite bass player

(or the blades band au that nobody asked for)

*inspired by @iaraiumi‘s STUNNING guitarist tyril art (here)

tyril-centric and tyril x mc bc this would be 7k+ words if i didn’t focus on just one of them but i tried to give everyone a moment in the spotlight. credits to a fic i read from the 100 fandom years ago for the format

used my f!elf mc ryllea graywater for this (though i guess this is kind of a modern au idk asjdla); also i don’t play any musical instruments i’m sorry in advance for butchering any of the technical parts 😬

Tyril Starfury — with his red silk shirts and slicked back hair — looks every bit the part of a rock god on stage with the rest of BLADES; but here, in the confines of their tour bus, he is a quiet presence, calmly sipping tea in the corner with a notepad and pen in his hands, his mind far away in the early hours of the morning.

If you had told me eighteen months ago that I would be shadowing Broadway darling Tyril Starfury as he traveled cross-country with his new rock band, I would have laughed and called you preposterous.

And yet, here I am, witness to the madness.

Nia Ellarious, the band’s youngest member and resident pianist, offers me a cup of the same tea as Starfury’s, telling me to enjoy the quiet with an almost apologetic smile.

I understand what she means not long after.

(There’s no such thing as a quiet morning in the world of Mal Volari.)

Every bit as charming and flamboyant as his on-stage persona, Volari greets the entire bus a good morning with flourish, throwing both me and Ellarious a magnetic smile before slipping towards the coffee machine with exceptionally light feet. (More on that later.) He taps on every available surface while he waits for his coffee to brew, humming softly as if figuring out a melody right there on the spot.

If Starfury is bothered by Volari’s banging and humming, he makes no show of it, paying him no mind as he continues to scribble in his notepad.

Ellarious beams as the scene plays out in front of her. “It’s not every day that they don’t get on each other’s nerves,” she explains. “Especially in the morning.”

It’s around this time — almost noon now — that Ryllea Graywater, lead guitarist and vocalist, wakes and joins the group, heading straight towards Volari and the cup of coffee in his hand.

“Thanks,” she winks as she takes the cup from him, shooting Volari a shit-eating grin that he returns easily, already procuring another cup for himself.

It should be noted that Graywater doesn’t seem to talk to anyone until she’s had at least one cup of coffee, choosing instead to slide in beside Starfury in the dining booth, eyes darting towards the notepad he’s writing on. They kind of just... sit there, minding their own business amidst the chaos that is the rest of the bus.

(Volari’s launched into an animated story about the inspiration behind last year’s summer hit, “Contessa, Contessa”, but I can’t help being drawn to the more quiet story unfolding behind him in the dining booth.)

Slinging one arm against the backrest of Starfury’s seat, Graywater casually invites herself into his space, a thoughtful smile on her lips as she looks over the notepad in his hand. There’s an openness between them that tells me that this isn’t a new occurrence, a comfortable ease in the way they seem to be engaging in a wordless conversation.

“He’s kind of really private,” I recall the younger Starfury sibling, Adrina, telling me about his creative process years ago, at the release party for his collab album with then rumored girlfriend and writing partner Kaya Duskraven. “He’s always been a perfectionist. Doesn’t really let anyone other than Kaya hear anything until it’s finished.”

But there’s no trace of that here, in this quiet moment with Graywater, bright, almost triumphant smiles on their faces as she picks up a pen and scribbles something on the pad too, immediately tapping out a melody against the table as if to test-run it by Starfury.

The smile he gives her is glowing.

I look away — suddenly feeling like an intruder in their private moment — catching the tail-end of Volari’s Contessa story, right before Imtura (no publicly released surname) accidentally slams me against the wall when the bus makes a rocky turn.

“Oof, sorry there little guy.” She raises both hands in apology before heading straight for the coffee machine, haphazardly dumping its contents into a generous-sized mug before immediately proceeding to consume said coffee as she plunks onto the other end of the dining booth.

And that’s how the first morning of me shadowing BLADES goes.

Ellarious tells me I’m lucky it was a good one.

-

With over 16 years of experience under his belt, Tyril Starfury has been in the music and entertainment industry far longer than the rest of the BLADES members combined. At the tender age of nine, he won his first piano competition, regarded highly for his precision at such a young age. He would continue to play competitively until he discovers a new love — musical theater.

It’s no surprise that Starfury ends up on Broadway — he comes from a long line of revered artists, all of them regarded as geniuses of their time. Though some would argue that his family name opened doors that would otherwise be unavailable, no one could deny that it was his clear, soaring baritone and unrelenting work ethic that kept him on stage.

It’s on this stage that he met young Kaya Duskraven, an understudy in one of his shows, prompting a fruitful five-year partnership spanning two EPs and a mini-concert series, Stars in the Dusk.

(The name was a little on the nose, but the critics loved them all the same.)

The two shared such a comfortable rapport, on and off-stage, that they naturally sparked dating rumors — Starfury was always quick to deny them.

No one could have expected the partnership to end on such a bitter note.

To this day, no one knows the real reason behind their fallout — Starfury walked out in the middle of their televised performance without apology or explanation — though there have been no shortage of rumors and theories, a lot of them involving one Eleryn Rosecoven, better known in the industry as Shadow Court bassist dXenia.

I tried to bring it up once, after several bottles of beer have been consumed and the band is swapping stories over s’mores made over the tour bus stove.

I’ve never been shut out so fast in my life.

There’s an audible crack from the s’more now crushed in Imtura’s hand, her piercing amber eyes seemingly driving a death sentence into mine. Volari sighs disapprovingly (and dramatically) at me, and even Ellarious — friendly, cheery Nia — looks at me with a pointed glare, turning off the stove, signaling the end of s’mores night.

“I would prefer not to comment,” Starfury nods at me, years of practiced courtesy showing in his tone and all I want in that moment is for the earth to swallow me whole.

Graywater follows when he excuses himself from the group. Everyone else avoids me like the plague.

It’s hours later when Starfury and Graywater return to the bus — I pretend to have fallen asleep in the dining booth in hopes that I can avoid their fury until the morning — but Graywater approaches me with two cups of tea in hand, an unreadable expression on her face.

She slides over one cup to me — if the scalding temperature of the tea is intentional, she makes no obvious show of it.

“Look,” she begins with an exasperated sigh. “I know you’re only doing your job here. And we did agree to this article, so I’m sorry if things got a little tense back there.” She pauses, as if considering her next words carefully. “We’ve all lived moments in our lives that we’re not proud of. Tyril’s had to live his in front of the public eye. He’ll talk about it when he feels ready to... but his past doesn’t define him, none of ours do.”

I nod, understanding that this is the last we’ll speak of the subject. She smiles as if in truce, telling me that I don’t have to banish myself to the dining booth and that no one will pull any pranks on me if I sleep in the shared bedroom.

I barely catch any sleep anyway.

There’s a ferocity in the way they protect each other that I didn’t notice at first — it could be subtle sometimes, like in the way Volari always checks in with each of the band members every night before going to bed (even though Starfury usually brushes him off); or in the way Imtura always makes sure every one stays hydrated (feel free to interpret that however you wish, whichever way is true); or in the way Ellarious always has some form of baked good running in the oven, more often someone else’s favorite rather than her own.

(I learn the hard way that no one is allowed to get in between Imtura and her cupcakes. No one.)

It’s also plain as day whenever they’re on stage together, their set list a carefully curated show that highlights each member’s strengths without anyone getting overworked. Everyone’s always quick to catch each other whenever they hit snags along the road — there’s a moment in one of the shows when Volari’s mic suddenly gets cut off and Starfury swoops in without missing a beat, a small nod of the former’s head seemingly the only cue he needs, the trust between them implicit.

When I had asked earlier why he’d joined BLADES, Starfury simply shrugged, as if it was no big deal.

“It was by accident. I happened to be at one of their shows and they needed a bass player. We kind of just… worked and we’ve played together ever since.”

But this kind of chemistry doesn’t just happen by accident. No, this is the product of months and months of hard work, of opinions clashing and arguments spanning days before sitting down and realizing it’s not impossible to see eye to eye; it’s battles won and battles lost together, respect earned and trust merited.

To call them just another band seems too small a word almost. Insufficient.

They’re kind of like a family.

(If your typical family involved regular knife and axe-throwing contests, that is.

... it’s best not to ask.)

-

Tensions are high backstage at Deadwood Festival Grounds.

Volari has been pacing around non-stop. Ellarious looks like she’s using every bit of her willpower not to bite her fingernails. Imtura keeps violently tapping her drumsticks together. Starfury’s got his arms crossed in a corner, brows furrowed.

Graywater is doing a handstand for no apparent reason.

The anxiety is understandable — tonight’s a crucial moment for the band.

With only one more show before the grand finale at Whitetower Stadium, all the bands are doing their best to retain the crowd’s favor, each playing well-established fan favorites, saving the riskier song choices for the finale.

That is, everyone except BLADES.

They’re planning to debut two new songs tonight, both of which written solely by Starfury.

It’s a ballsy move on its own — no one’s exactly itching to drop the ball on their fans this close to the end — but add in the fact that Starfury hasn’t released any solo-written music since the Duskraven fallout and you’ve got the makings of a battle that could either go incredibly right or disastrously wrong.

Let’s back up a bit.

After the Duskraven breakup, Starfury had gone into something of a hiatus (if that’s what you call disappearing off the face of the entertainment industry) before dropping the 13-track self-written album, “Honor,” without prior notice or promotion. Fans were ecstatic to hear from him after his sudden break, but critics were less enthused, calling the album ‘a brash, arrogant attempt at flipping the metaphorical finger at Duskraven that ultimately falls short’, noting the clear absence of Duskraven’s touch in his music — all technicality, no soul.

Starfury’s penned a couple of songs with BLADES since, spanning genres as colorful and diverse as its writers, but there hasn’t been a solo venture since Honor, leaving long-time Starfury fans anxious to hear him take lead again.

Graywater calls everyone into a circle, locking eyes with Starfury as she gives his hand a squeeze.

She makes a speech that I‘m not privy to — but everyone is visibly more resolute after she speaks, each raising their fists to meet in the middle of the circle.

“I’m honored to be on this journey with you all,” I hear Starfury share, a glittering smile spreading on Volari’s lips at the statement.

“I knew you liked us!” he says, crossing the circle to throw an arm around Starfury’s shoulders, pulling him close.

“Group hug!” Ellarious laughs and Imtura closes the circle into a solid embrace.

Starfury appears to be in shock — as if this is the first time this has happened — but he recovers quickly, a quietly contented smile on his face.

The last streaks of daylight have disappeared by the time they’re called to stage, the crowd restless from a long afternoon under the blistering heat.

Darkness has fallen.

But then the opening chords to fan-favorite “Murderous Masquerade” cut through the evening air, a flurry of flashing lights bursting through the sky, and the Deadwood comes alive.

Volari takes center stage in his flashy black and gold ensemble, working the crowd with such ease that it’s no question why he’s been dubbed the band’s de facto showman — he’s frankly just mesmerizing to watch.

Next up is “The Priestess and the Warrior,” an epic tale crammed into four and a half minutes of heart-racing drum beats — provided by the insanely talented Imtura — with a tender piano-driven bridge near the close, Ellarious’ heartbreaking vocals driving the whole thing home.

Graywater takes lead in the third number, “Flirting with Monsters,” a delicate neo R&B number that sounds nothing like the title suggests, her earnest, airy vocals lulling you into a comfortable, almost dream-like state as she entices her lover to stay.

The one thing common between the seemingly weird mishmash of genres is Starfury’s steady bassline, providing a much needed thread of cohesion to the set list. Where Volari, Imtura, Graywater, and even Ellarious tackle their music with the raw aggression of fresh blood on stage, Starfury attacks with quiet, seasoned finesse, his expertise evident in tracks like “Watch your back (or I’ll watch it for you)” and “Drakna Queen” — two unconventionally energetic numbers that would be difficult to listen to live if not for Starfury’s sure hand bringing them harmony.

“Alright, we’re gonna slow things down for a bit,” Graywater announces, eyes sparkling with excitement as she looks at Starfury. “Tyril’s got a new song and we want you guys to be the first to hear it.”

By now, I’ve seen enough of Starfury’s performances to say that he’s not a nervous performer. Even in the earlier stages of his career, there was always a quiet assuredness about him — which could have also been easily called arrogance — and while that’s still present now, there’s something different about the way he interacts with the crowd, a sense of humility present in the way he put his hands together and gives them a brief bow before he sits himself in front of the piano.

“I would like to dedicate this to a person very special to me,” he begins, his fingers gentle on the keys, a soft, lilting melody dancing in the air.

(He’s not even the least bit subtle about the way he looks at Graywater.)

“She has reminded me, time and again, that hope and love, when we allow it, can shine the brightest light in the dark.” Graywater shakes her head as if to shrug in nonchalance, but she meets his eyes dead on, her smile beaming with pride.

Turning to the crowd, Starfury adds, “I hope this gives you as much joy as you’ve given me. This one’s called ‘Kilvali.’”

For the next minute, it’s just Starfury and the piano, the world quiet as his voice fills the air. If there was ever any doubt that Starfury had lost his vocal prowess, there wouldn’t be any now. His voice is clear and strong — reaching even the farthest row of people on the music grounds — albeit with a softness now that I’ve never heard from him before, his attachment to his music feeling infinitely more personal.

“All my moments with you are worth whatever pain that came before,” he sings, his voice soaring as the rest of the band join him in the second verse. The performance is even more powerful with the added instrumentation.

Tiny cellphone flashlights illuminate the crowd as they sway their hands in time to the song, the emotion in Starfury’s voice rolling out in waves.

Twitter user @notmxwllbmnt13 sums it up nicely:

SJSKJSJSK TYRIL STARFURY KILLED ME TONIGHT!! ALL!! THE!! FEELS!!

(It really was beautiful.)

The crowd cheers as the song draws to a close, but the battle’s not over yet (as Starfury would tell me himself later) — the true test lying in whether or not his second song proves a testament to his newfound voice in songwriting… or if it’s just a one-time stroke of luck.

“If it’s alright with you, we’d like to play you another new one,” he says and the applause is deafening when he turns over the mic to Volari, the latter pulling him into a one-armed hug before taking to the crowd.

If Duskraven’s interviews post-breakup are to be believed, Starfury has never — not once — written a song that wasn’t intended for himself. (She claimed to have co-written plenty of solos for Starfury, but he allegedly never returned the favor.) A quick glance at his repertoire would make this allegation appear true.

“It is true,” he tells me simply when I bring it up later in the tour bus. (Despite the coolness of his voice, I notice him shift a little in his seat.) “I was... unconfident, extending my words to other artists like that. I was also prideful and arrogant — afraid to face the judgment and criticism of my peers, and for that, I truly am sorry to Kaya. She deserved better from me as a partner.”

It seems Starfury has taken that incident to heart. Listening to “Purple Dreams” with Volari’s teasing falsetto on the forefront, it becomes clear that Starfury wrote this with the former’s vocals in mind, the flirtatious mix of his sassy vocal riffs and playful onstage antics giving the song a delicious, intoxicating energy.

It’s probably the most experimental I’ve heard from Starfury as a writer, both in terms of lyricism and melody.

“I’ve learned a lot this last year, creating music with BLADES,” he explains. “Not only did I find a new perspective on songwriting thanks to them, but my bandmates also gave me the courage to try things outside of my comfort zone and to allow myself to make mistakes. They inspire me.”

Years ago, he was dubbed as stiff and awkward outside of the theater stage, with Duskraven providing all the charm in their partnership, but now, on stage with BLADES — as Volari points his sultry gaze at him, singing his own lyrics to him — Starfury smirks, leaning ever so slightly against the showman as his hands tease along the guitar strings, driving the crowd wild.

It’s clear by the end of the song that Starfury has won over the crowd, and for once, he actually seems to revel in it, his smile beaming as he takes in the applause.

The rest of the band are even more thrilled for him, each leaving their posts to engulf him in another hug.

He doesn’t hesitate this time, allowing the fond gesture in front of their adoring crowd, each of them savoring the quiet moment, and I think, out of all the times I’ve seen Starfury on stage, this has to be my favorite version of him.

In the company of his friends, lifting and supporting each other, Tyril Starfury shines brighter than any star.

“We haven’t talked about what we’re doing after yet,” Starfury admits when I ask him about the future of BLADES after Morella Fest. (Each of the members are also solo artists in their own right, after all.) “But whatever happens at the end of the tour, we’ll always have each other, regardless of whether the band continues or not. I can’t imagine my life without these people now and I hope I never have to.”

He’s smiling as he says this, watching his bandmates fight over the last levenfruit before he excuses himself to join them, Graywater and Ellarious easily making space for him in the dining booth, Volari and Imtura rounding out the little world that now seems completely their own.

-

This article also appears in BLADES: The Most Ambitious Crossover Event in Morella Music History. You can find the full feature on www - kadethebard - com.

-

tagging: @sophie-summer ✨

[kamilah-the-bloodqueen]

For the anon who wanted a fic where Kamilah and Amy don’t know each other: This is a short 2-3 part, one-shot AU where Amy is working as a Barista and meets Kamilah in a frenzy yatta yatta yatta you get the idea. It’s not smuuty yet because I wanted to kind of develop some sort of relationship between them?? Part 2 (and 3 if i choose to not be lazy) will be smutty I promise ;) 

Pairing: Kamilah x MC (Amy)

Warnings: Fluff? I don’t know there’s no angst because FUCK ANGST

*BEEP BEEP*

Amy groaned, covering her face with her pillow as she rolled over, hitting snooze on her phone. It was too early for this, she thought as she smacked the snooze button. 

*BEEP BEEP*

Amy glanced at her phone, her eyes squinting as she sighed glancing at the time. 5:20. 

“5:20?!?! I overslept damnit!!!” Amy tumbled out of bed, rubbing her eyes as she hurried towards her closet. She hastily pulled her cellphone out to see 4 missed calls from Zig. She threw on a pair of skinny jeans and a white t-shirt, grabbed her wallet and scurried out the door, furiously typing apologies to Zig.

Sorry Zig! I overslept! 

Hey no worries, just don’t let it happen again. Not a great first day, see you when you get here. 

Amy speed walked down the empty streets of New York, the faint glow of the streetlights giving Amy some level of comfort as she dashed down the sidewalks. She hastily texted to Lily, explaining the entire fiasco, totally ignorant to the gorgeous woman who barely made it out of the cafe before Amy tumbled straight into her, spilling the scalding coffee over both of them. Amy shook her arms as she picked up her phone before meeting the woman’s cold and irritated gaze. Amy opened her mouth to apologize, but the stranger's deep brown eyes captivated her, even in their irritation. Amy took in the woman’s defined features, her dark brown hair, her coffee-stained maroon suit, her perfectly simple makeup. Amy swore she heard the woman mumble under her breath but she was too dazed to have caught it, she fiddled with her jeans as she handed the woman a half soggy 20$ bill before shuffling inside.

“I am terribly sorry. It’s my first day and quite possibly my last.” Amy bowed her head as the stranger huffed in anger, crunching her bill between her hands as she strided off, her angry eyes speaking louder than anything she could have said. 

“What happened?” Zig questioned as Amy put an apron on over her wet t-shirt, tears welling in her eyes as she asked the next customer for their order. 

“Nuffin..” She sniffled as she began to brew a regular coffee, Zig almost interjected but decided it was best to leave Amy to her own and not escalate the situation. 

The rest of the day went by smoothly, Amy brewing all the coffee precisely, nearly impressing Zig with her barista skills. Amy sighed as Zig shut the lights off for the night, handing Amy a small bag and an envelope as they walked into the streets of New York. 

“What’s this?” Amy raised an eyebrow as she curiously took the items from his hands.

“Despite you spilling coffee all over yourself and a customer, it’s your share of the tips and your share of the leftover pastries. We don’t waste here.” Zig smiled as he held up his own bag and envelope, smiling at Amy as he turned on his way. “Have a good night Amy! See you tomorrow!” 

Amy smiled as she strided back to her apartment, immediately investigating the bag of pastries as she entered the threshold. Lily bouncing off of the couch to greet her as she  set the bag on the table. 

“You rushed out the door so quickly this morning I didn’t even see you go!! What’s in the bag?” Lily beamed with excitement as Amy handed her a french pastry, Lily biting into it and savoring the sweet cream. “How was it?” Lily sat down on the barstool as Amy flopped onto the couch, closing her eyes before taking a deep breath. 

“I didn’t even make it in the front door before I spilled coffee all over this woman, but other than that it was fine.” Amy buried her face in the pillows, embarrassed at the recollection of this morning's catastrophe. Her mind ran rampant at all of the other ways that interaction could have gone as Lily placed a reassuring hand on Amy’s shoulder. 

“Don’t sweat it okay? You look like you’ve been hit by a bus, you should sleep…” Lily gently nudged Amy towards her bedroom as Amy dragged herself up off the couch. She hugged Lily firmly before shuffling off to her bed, flopping down and falling asleep with her jeans still on. 

“You’re a trainwreck Amy…” Lily plopped herself on the couch, starting her PS4 as she laughed lightly, “but you’re my best friend so I love you anyways, sleep well.” 

Amy woke up early the next day, on time to the cafe without any coffee spilling incidents. She put her apron on, put the new coffee filters in and turned the open sign on before Zig arrived. 

“You’re 30 minutes early.” Zig shuffled in the door, hanging his jacket on the back door as he ruffled his slick hair, smiling at Amy as she handed him a fresh cup of coffee. “Thanks, I guess this is part of the apology for probably driving away one of our customers?” He winked as he sipped from the cup, his eyes lighting up at how good it was for just a simple cup of coffee. 

“I added caramel, tends to sweeten it just a little. Hope you don’t mind…” Amy fiddled with her hands as the bell to the door rang, where the same woman from yesterday stood. Her eyes found Amy as she scowled, walking straight up to the register Karen style, tapping her nails hastily against the counter. 

“Hi what can I get for you today…?” Amy asked as she gently rubbed the buttons of the register, refusing to meet the cold gaze of the woman. 

“A regular coffee. No cream. No sugar.” The woman held out a 100$ bill before Amy had any time to react, Zig cutting in and smiling as he took the bill and worked the register, gesturing for Amy to begin the simple order. 

“Welcome back Kamilah.” He smiled and Amy caught the woman smiling back, not romantically but as if they’d known each other a while.

“I’m going to assume she’s new? I would assume you train your employees better than that…” Kamilah nodded towards Amy who nearly dropped the coffee again before holding it out with a cheeky smile. 

“I am sorry about that-” 

“Everyone has bad days Kamilah, even you I’m sure.” Zig smiled as he handed her the coffee, Kamilah examining the cup before taking a gentle sip. 

“Perhaps, I suppose this cup and that apology will have to do. This is still my favorite cafe and I refuse to let a mor-” she hesitated, letting out a small cough before continuing, “inexperienced barista ruin it for me.” She strided out of the door as Amy sniffled, turning towards the back door as Zig gave her a reaffirming hug. Amy sighed, wiping her eyes in embarrassment before nodding silently, turning back to the counter with a smile. 

“Let’s get to work.” She greeted the next customer with a smile, brushing the thought of Kamilah aside. She closed the cafe with Zig again, even creating a slick little handshake between them as they parted ways for the night, Amy heading back home where Lily sat, perched on the counter. 

“Better today?” She asked, gently taking the bag of pastries from Amy. 

“Yeah. How was your day Lily?” Amy sat on the couch, Lily coming over and sitting next to her. 

“Nothing much. The usual you know, crazy exes and choices the Nanny Affair….” Lily stifled a yawn as Amy raised an eyebrow.

“You still play that silly game?” She let out a laugh as Lily stood up from the couch, dramatically pouting.

“I’m into girls,  we have limited selection okay?” Lily fell to the floor, grabbing a pillow and making herself comfortable there before they both broke into laughter. 

“You seem tired?” Amy patted Lily gently as they both stifled yawns. 

“Yeah, we’re both hard working women who deserve sleep.” Lily jumped up and began to walk towards her room, “Hopefully we work this late rent out and then we can spend more time together…” Lily frowned as Amy raced over and pulled her into a hug. 

“We will, I promise. I love you girl!” They hugged tightly before retreating to their rooms for the night. 

The next morning was a mix between Lily and Amy grumpily sharing waffles as they made fun of the choices tumblr fandom and their crazy batshit. Lily heading off to build computers for the little company she had started, ``That Gamer Girl” that had taken quite a success during the covid crisis earlier that year. The covid crisis that was also responsible for putting Amy out of work and throwing their rent up and out of their budget. Amy made it to work, greeting Zig again before Kamilah showed up in her usual grumpy manner. Amy turned around before she even made it to the register and handed Kamilah a hot cup of coffee, her name written on the cup as Amy smiled. Kamilah raised an eyebrow as Zig watched with a mix of caution and amusement. 

“One black coffee, no sugar or cream.” Amy held the cup out as Kamilah tilted her head before taking the cup and placing the 100$ bill into the tip jar. Amy tried to hide her pride as she almost caught Kamilah smiling at her, before turning to Zig and going to the back. Zig approached Kamilah with an amused look as they both watched Amy walk through the back doors. 

“She’s cute isn’t she?” Zig playfully inquired, causing Kamilah to scoff and roll her eyes as she sipped the coffee. 

“Not the word I would use.” Kamilah nodded to him as she headed out, taking a deeper breath and letting herself smile at the girl’s sweet gesture. Amy felt herself blush in the back as she remembered the way Kamilah had *almost* smiled at her. She shook her head at herself before heading inside where Zig greeted her with a smile. 

“What was that all about?” He raised an eyebrow as he made a frappuccino for a teenage girl, who impatiently tapped her foot as she scrolled through tik tok on her phone. 

“Nothing.” 

“Ah,” He let out a chuckle as he handed the frappuccino off and wiped his hands, “because that’s not what it looked like.” He smirked as Amy covered her face with her hands, she could feel the blood rushing to her face as he laughed. The rest of the day passed by quickly but not quick enough, Amy rushed home and began telling Lily all the juicy details of the job, and of Kamilah as they ate pastries while watching Netflix. 

“So she’s hot but?”

“But she’s out of my league.” 

“You don’t know that! Maybe that smile meant she wanted to-” Amy jumped off of the couch, covering her ears as Lily laughed and made inappropriate gestures with her hands and mouth. Amy rushed into her room, closing the door before yelling. 

“Goodnight you dirty minded fucker! I love you!” 

---Next Day---

The door bell dinged as Kamilah strutted into the cafe, Amy already holding out the cup of coffee as she smiled at Kamilah. 

“Good Morning!” Kamilah couldn’t help but give the girl a small smile, amused by her excitement this early in the morning. 

“Morning…” Kamilah hesitated, looking around for Zig. 

“He took the week off, to go on a roadtrip with his friends, so I’ll be here.” Amy smiled as Kamilah questioned why Zig would have left the cafe to such a new employee. 

“Is this going to be a usual thing? What if I change my order?” Kamilah playfully arched an eyebrow as Amy frowned before becoming flustered. 

“I-uh.” Kamilah smirked in satisfaction at how she had gotten her all frizzled. 

“Your name?” 

“Amy. Can’t you read the nametag?” Amy slammed her mouth shut at her words, they definitely came off the wrong way. Kamilah looked taken aback before laughing playfully, sipping her coffee before turning to leave.

“I like to be polite, Amy.” She left the cafe, leaving Amy stunned as the angry teenage girl entered demanding her complicated caramel frappuccino. 

Time passed by and Amy fell into a comfortable routine, even when Zig returned from his roadtrip. Waking up and chatting with Lily about all the juicy details of their lives and then heading to work, making a black cup of coffee with no cream or sugar every morning to be ready at precisely 6:00 when Kamilah would show up. She began to write her little notes and hide them under the cupholder or to draw a smiley face on her cup of coffee. Kamilah began to enjoy the presence of Amy, her genuine playfulness intrigued her, there was something about Amy that Kamilah just couldn’t lay her finger on, or maybe that was the problem. 

“Good Morning Kamilah!” Amy greeted Kamilah at the door, two cups of coffee in her hands instead of just one as Kamilah cautiously took them from her. 

“You made me two cups?” Kamilah arched a brow as Amy giggled, walking back behind the counter. 

“No silly! I changed one of them…” Amy smirked as Kamilah grimaced, “don’t worry! It wasn’t anything too complicated, I just thought you should broaden your horizons…” 

“And if I hate them?” 

“Then I’ll pay for them both and I’ll never try to broaden your horizons again…” Amy frowned as Kamilah sipped the changed cup of coffee. Despite always enjoying black coffee, whatever Amy had done to this cup was….pretty tasteful if Kamilah could say so. 

“It’s...actually pretty good...what did you do to it?” Kamilah took another sip as Amy bounced on her heels, a wide childish grin written across her face. 

“I added a bit of caramel! It’s how I like mine!” Amy took her hands behind her back and fiddled with them nervously as Kamilah smiled. A moment of silence passing before the usual teenage girl showed up, Amy handing her her usual frappuccino order. The girl took the drink and dumped it all over Amy as she furiously yelled for Zig, who shortly appeared from the back with his hands full of coffee beans. Kamilah jumped over the counter and began wiping the frappuccino from Amy’s shirt. 

“You dumb fuck I wasn’t going to order this today!” She screamed as Zig rolled his eyes, taking her order as Kamilah helped Amy recover. Amy met the dark brown eyes of Kamilah, following her features to her lips as Kamilah dried her shirt, rubbing her hands up and down Amy’s sides as she shivered; the cold frappuccino giving her a different type of wake up call. Amy tried to control herself but couldn’t, she leaned forward and gently kissed Kamilah on the lips, immediately standing and rushing out the back as Kamilah followed behind. 

“I’m sorry!” Amy turned around as soon as she stepped outside, bumping against Kamilah who stood there with a smirk. 

“Something tells me you’ve been wanting to do that…” Kamilah smirked as she pulled Amy’s notes from a pocket inside her blazer, Amy’s jaw dropping at the sight. 

“You...kept them?” Amy felt tears well up in her eyes as Kamilah laughed, Amy taking note of the way her eyes sparkled in the moonlight. Kamilah nodded silently before leaning down to kiss Amy once more, the taste of coffee on her lips as the smell of her lavender perfume drove Amy mad. Kamilah’s hands found Amy’s hips as she flipped her and pushed her against the back door, her lips moving to kiss along the baristas neck as Amy moaned softly. 

“I...should get back to work…” Amy mumbled against Kamilah’s lips as she tangled her hands in her hair, her body aching for more than just simple kisses.

“That’s not what your body is telling me...and I can hear it in your voice…” Kamilah huffed in frustration as Amy pulled away, scribbling her phone number on Kamilah’s hand before opening the back door with a smile- her cheeks still flushed pink as she gasped for air. 

“How about a date? Tomorrow night at 6?” Amy smiled at Kamilah’s shocked expression. She walked back into the cafe, leaving Kamilah stunned at what had just happened.