#I hope the silly way I wrote will suffice

[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

Could you maybe write an established relationship sodo x fem reader smut with breeding kink and knotting with romantic fluffy after care??

Thank you🖤🖤

“darling amour”

❤︎ Synopsis — Sodo’s a mess of emotions— an unpredictable storm that never knew the touch of gentleness and tender care… until he met his current mate. With her, he can learn to be sweet… caring, and shower his lover with so much affection he never knew he had within him.

Pairing: sodo ghoul x ghoulette!reader (she/her)

Theme: smut ❣︎ , fluff ✿

A/N: I’m experimenting with a new writing style so I hope it doesn’t seem to weird aaaaa. I haven’t written with a fem reader in a while, and idk if I wrote the breeding kink well … so I hope this suffices

CW: NSFW CONTENT. Established relationship, Sodo has issues but it’s ok because reader is amazing, AFAB reader, Breeding kink, knotting, p in v, vaginal sex, praise kink, love marking and hickeys, probably more I can’t think of, but Sodo gives reader lots of love and aftercare <3

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Sodo was an interesting little thing.

A rather stoic and hotheaded little fellow, the firecracker of Ghost— you’d probably find Sodo’s name in the dictionary under the word “temperamental”.

Sodo never let anyone get too close to him, always keeping his walls closely built around him, and rarely opening up. He had made it clear since day one that he isn’t a man that speaks with his heart, but rather with instinct— always snapping his teeth and growling at anyone who tries to get too close. Many of the ghouls and ghoulettes have learned to not irritate this man, as the outcome that came from it was never a pretty sight.

Of course, he wasn’t a completely heartless monster, Sodo was just… troubled. He had his friends, like Rain, Phantom, Swiss, all of those guys, but even they have learned not to try and pry into the secrets of Sodo’s issues.

That is until she came to his life.

Y/N, She was a new little infernal into the pack, Papa had summoned her to serve as a new member of their strange, yet welcoming family in the ministry. Sodo didn’t know what it was about this ghoulette that got him so drawn to her. Maybe it was her sweet yet gracious hand gestures, or the way that her voice was just so angelic, like a mourning dove singing it’s alluring and enchanting song.

Call him delusional for swooning over this demon the moment he saw her— but maybe love at first sight wasn’t so silly to Sodo anymore.

And it seemed that Y/N took a liking to Sodo as well, as she clung to him the moment she was summoned. Newly summoned ghouls usually take a bit to adjust to the topside, the overwhelming sensations of the human realm having freshly summoned ghouls on high alert and hissing at anyone who dares to step a foot into their direction. Yet for some odd reason, Y/N stuck to Sodo, and he didn’t mind one bit.

This seemed to work in their favor, because one thing led to another, the fire ghoul and the new ghoulette started dating. It was… a new experience for Sodo, to say the least. He’s never opened up this quickly to a fellow infernal— let alone one he just met recently. However, the fire ghoul always found himself drawn to this beautiful beast.

Something lured him in like a moth to the flame— drawing him into her presence like an symphonic melody. And honestly, Sodo wasn’t complaining, because this woman was everything he wanted in a mate.

She was a stunning ghoulette. Beautiful like the flames of Hell themselves, a sexy beast that had any man or woman shaking in their knees just from her sheer presence alone. Y/N was everything he could ask for. His little darling amour. An absolutely kind and understanding mate, gentle to the touch but absolutely wild in the sheets.

And oh boy did Sodo love this woman in bed.

Maybe it was the way she let out those soft and elegant moans, or how her tail would intertwine with his every time she was close to finishing. The way he drilled his cock into her tight heat had her squeezing so tightly around him… and the feeling just drove Sodo over the edge every single time.

Y/N was a freak in bed, and the fire ghoul was here for it.

“Fuck, darling. You’re going to squeeze me dry.” The guitarist panted between sharp and haste moans, moving his hips in a rhythm that had him and his lover panting heavily from the sheer feeling of pleasure.

Y/N just let out her own soft and breathy moans, her claws gripping onto the silk-woven bedsheets beneath her, while her lover thrusted into her slowly and sensually.

“Ngh… good.” Y/N uttered out quietly, but her tone was laced with lust and affection. “That’s how I know I’m doing a good job at getting you off.”

Sodo looked down at Y/N. His forehead was glistening with sweat and his cheeks were flushed a lavender color. His entire body felt hot, and yet he couldn’t help but give his partner a half-smirk if both desire and love.

“You little minx, you just know how to get me all riled up. Fuck I love you so much.” The fire ghoul groaned out, his voice resonating through the bedroom. Sodo’s thrusts only increased in speed, the head of his cock hitting that sweet, sweet spot within Y/N’s walls that had her tail quivering and her legs twitching.

Sodo could feel the ring of muscle tightening around his erection, which only made the guitarist let out a series of moans that almost sounded pornographic. “You’re such a good girl… taking my cock so well… mmmh~ you’re going to make me lose it.”

This… affectionate and tender side that Sodo had to him, he never really knew it was in him. He was so used to being such a hateful and spiteful ghoul, a fierce and snappy infernal who was angry with the world, angry with himself. He didn’t think there was an ounce of love in his body.

But this moment with Y/N… clearly proved him wrong.

Sodo’s hip thrusts were slow and sensual… being sure to hit every inch of Y/N’s insides in a way that had her squirming under his hold, begging for more. He slowly picked up the pace, and his moans only increased in volume while his fingers gripped his lover’s wrists more tightly.

“So… nnngh~ good for me.. love you so much— so, so much…” Sodo uttered out, his speech becoming more incoherent. The fire ghoul could also tell that Y/N was enjoying this as much as he was— due to her rather high-pitched moans that almost sounded pornographic.

As the guitarist’s moans and groans increased in volume, he dipped his head down towards the ghoulette’s neck. Sodo’s fangs were bared as he gently sunk them into the soft flesh of his lover, leaving hickeys and bite marks between his heavy grunts and moans. These marks… were proof of how much he loved Y/N, how he cherished her like a goddess… and wouldn’t trade her for anything else.

And he was going to keep showing that love in all the ways he can, sexual or not.

“Ahh~ Sodo please…” Y/N moaned out breathlessly, her tail moving to curl around Sodo’s tail while Sodo pounded into her relentlessly. “Please.. please fill me up..”

Sodo might as well would’ve just came right then and there. Y/N’s voice sounded so hot when she said it like that, he definitely wanted to fill her up with his seed now— wanting nothing more than to see his own cum dripping out of her tight heat.

“Ohhh baby~ I’ll give you more than just that.” The guitarist grunted out, feeling his semi-hardened length pulsing inside of his lover’s hole— the walls tightening around his cock and just making him crave Y/N’s body even more.

“Fuck—! You’re such a good girl for me… ohhh you just look so goddamn gorgeous under me like this…”

Sodo’s lips moved to capture Y/N’s in a fiery and heated kiss, slipping his forked tongue into her mouth as they made out. His thrusts didn’t stop either, and he felt himself getting closer and closer to that brink of pleasure— that feeling that made him feel the closest to heaven.

“You’re so fucking sexy… I love you so much.. mmmh~ so so so much..”

Y/N moaned loudly into the kisses, feeling her lips go numb from how passionate Sodo was being. She felt like passing out from the pleasure, but each of Sodo’s hard, yet pleasurable thrusts only kept her eyes shot wide open in pure ecstasy.

“Nnngh! I’m gonna cum—! Sodo… Sodo please I’m gonna cum!” Y/N cried out, her mind completely fogged with nothing but more lust and carnal desire. She could feel some of that ghoulish instinct within her begging for more and more of Sodo’s cock.. and she was allowing for herself to experience it.

Sodo grunted rather loudly as he heard Y/N beg for a release, and he just couldn’t resist biting her neck slightly— leaving a dark and bruising hickey on a spot that would definitely be difficult to cover up.

“Oh yeah? You’re going to cum for me? Mmmmh fuck~ don’t hold back now… let me feel that pleasure you’re experiencing!” Sodo panted out lustfully, his pupils shaped like hearts as he stared down at his lover with so much love and desire.

Sodo’s thumb moved down to gently press down against Y/N’s clit, before moving it in a circular motion while he was thrusting inside of her— giving an extra sense of stimulation that had Y/N squirming and screaming Sodo’s name.

Y/N could feel that knot within her abdomen being slowly undone— before she finally let out one last cry of pleasure, releasing her essence all over Sodo’s cock while it was buried deep within her.

Sodo shortly followed after her, letting out a loud groan before thrusting into Y/N one last time with a hard push. The fire ghoul released his hot seed inside of the ghoulette, ropes of thick cum filling her up to the brim completely. His orgasm was so intense, there was a bit of that slick fluid dripping out of her hole.

Both infernals just laid there for a moment, giving themselves a few minutes to catch their breath. Sodo laid gently on top of Y/N’s chest, before slowly pulling out of his lover, feeling their mixed fluids leave behind a trail that snapped off.

Wordlessly, Sodo got off of the bed and went into the bathroom to grab some towels. One for Y/N and one for himself. He then crawled back onto the bed again, before gesturing to Y/N to come over to him.

“Come here, darling. Let me clean you up.”

Y/N just nodded and slowly got up to move over to Sodo. The fire ghoul then wrapped his arms gently around Y/N’s waist and pulled her into his chest— her bare back resting against his chest. Sodo then used the towel to clean up any remaining fluids down between Y/N’s legs, being extra careful and sensitive so he didn’t stimulate Y/N’s aching privates any further.

Sodo’s touch was so gentle and tender. While he was cleaning Y/N up, he’d occasionally leave a kiss or two on the ghoulette’s cheek— which in turn made her giggle from the ticklish feeling.

The sound of her giggles swelled Sodo’s chest with a familiar warmth that he was slowly getting used to.

“Mmmh.. I love how you’re being so gentle..” Y/N whispered quietly, turning her head around to be met with Sodo’s loving gaze. “It’s one of my favorite things about you.”

Gentle. Sodo would never describe himself as a gentle being. But, his lover saw past his cold exterior, and awoken something more sweet and caring within him. He liked being gentle.

“I do try,” Sodo answered back with a smile, before softly kissing Y/N’s lips. He then cleaned up the last few traces of that sticky fluid, before putting the towel down.

“There… all cleaned up. And you still look as gorgeous as ever.” Sodo praised with a chuckle following after, peppering Y/N’s face with sweet and short kisses— which made her laugh in a delighted manner from how Sodo was acting.

“Oh my Satan— you can be so cheesy sometimes.”

“Only for you I am~ and you know you love it too, Y/N.”

“I do. That’s why I’m your mate, you dummy,”

The fire ghoul only rolled his eyes playfully, and pulled Y/N into his arms again— gently laying down on the silk sheets with his mate in his arms, caressing her and pulling her close.

“Yeah… and I wouldn’t trade you for anyone else.” Sodo whispered softly, burying his head into the crook of Y/N’s neck.

He could breath in her scent, and it was a comforting one. She smelt of roses and fresh vanilla, with a hint of sex from what they both did just now … but it was a comforting sense that brought peace to Sodo’s mind.

Sodo just stayed cuddled up in Y/N’s embrace, while he too was holding her closely. Their bare bodies clung together like two perfectly fitted puzzle pieces. Sodo purred softly and nudged his horns gently against Y/N’s jaw, to which she just chuckled and gently stroked them, her tail moving to intertwine with Sodo’s.

“I love you, Sodo...” Y/N whispered into his ear softly. Her tone was comforting and soothing, it made Sodo feel at ease.

For the first time in a while, he felt peace. He felt calm with his mate… because she has slowly broke down his walls, and carefully opened up his heart… to feel loved again.

“… I love you too, Y/N,”

And he just smiled, feeling his eyes flutter shut as he drifted off into dreamland, dreaming about nothing but peace and love.

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[crispy-bonnie]

Hey Sugar! — PHILLIP GRAVES X READER

today marks the day i lose my fucking mind and write shit for this fandom because oh my god men in tactical armor my beloved

oh , and this is another silly attempt at the 5 senses fanfic challenge because i never finished my first attempt . take a guess on what this one’s about lmao /j ALSO keep in mind that this is very badly written bc it’s been a hot minute since i wrote a proper fanfic

There was about you that captured Graves’s attention almost every time you passed by or talked to him. He noticed it from day one, but he didn’t think it was such a frequent habit.

You always had something in your mouth.

Whether it be candy, a snack, or even a straw as you sip a drink, you were almost always constantly consuming something. Though, he most often spotted you with a lollipop. More specifically, a cherry-flavored one.

Afar or up close, Graves would observe you as you went about your day, more particularly your mouth. His Shadows would take notice of the way he’d eye your pink lips and they way that red sugary treat would be flush against the bottom lip. He was enraptured by your lips alone, so much to the point where he wondered to himself…

How would you taste?

He would think about it every night, when there was nothing else to think about. No work, no personal troubles, just pondering on how sweet your lips would be against his. He wondered just how sugary sweet you might just taste. He wanted nothing more than to capture your lips in a kiss and allow his tongue to explore every single inch of your mouth.

At some point, it simply consumed his thoughts entirely, going from late night ponders to wonders that would interrupt his train of thought at any given moment. He would write about it every day, any second he would get. He even bought himself a bag of cherry lollipops for himself, letting it rest in his mouth and just imagining that it was you he was tasting.

At some point, he was salivating for more than just your lips. Graves wanted to be able to taste all of you. Every last bit.

It was only during a fateful party after a mission. Spinning bottles and watching Shadows go in and out of the storage closet for seven minutes. You once more had a lollipop in your mouth. The whole night, it was like a tease to him. So when it was your turn to spin the bottle, it was a miracle to him when it pointed directly at him. It was a blur when he quickly grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you along to the closet.

Stuck in the confined space with only seven minutes to spare, he wasted no time in yanking your sweet treat from your lips, only to replace it with his own. Graves was almost as shocked as you were in that moment. You just tasted so… divine. He couldn’t stop, and neither could you. He could taste every bit of you, especially those delicious cherry flavored notes. Your taste was a drug. He couldn’t get enough. He needed more.

As much as he didn’t want to break away, he had to. Graves didn’t taste as sweet as you, but he hoped that his honeyed words would suffice as a substitute instead..

“Why don’t we turn this seven minutes into a whole night, sugar?”

[namig42]

So I showed my fiancee some of the dialogue I wrote for my fanfic of Wyll being a sappy poet, and he joked, "oh, I get it, you can only write about Astarion like that," and now I need to prove him wrong that I can write poetic shit for him just as well.

One sleepless hour while little spooning later and I accidentally wrote a first draft of my wedding vows trying to prove my point that my sappiness is not limited to just Astarion. That's just Wyll talking and what my brain has been obsessing over for months. Anyways, please feel free to enjoy my first draft of sappy shit for the love of my life.

---

My love, you are the dearest thing in my life and the light in the dark. Your smile embraces me not in flames that scorch my heart, but in a warm, ember glow that is more comforting than any blanket. Your eyes are these warm pools of affection and love that I could stare into until I wither away into nothing but dust and bone. When you speak with passion about anything, no matter how big or small, I am entranced by the way you come to life, and I am so baffled still how you can look at me with that same level of admiration, sometimes more, when I go on and on about all sorts of things.

When I look into those beautiful eyes of yours, I have no doubts that you truly love me. The level of love and admiration you hold is clear as day. I still count my lucky stars to have found something so wonderful and pure as your love and devotion. I want to spend the rest of my days looking into those eyes and knowing that you'll be there with me until my very last breath, and until that day comes, I want to live a long and happy life alongside you full of wonderful memories and a slew of silly shenanigans.

I love you and appreciate everything you have to offer, and I will spend the rest of my life with you making sure you never once doubt that fact. If you do start to doubt my love for you, then I will do everything in my power to rectify that because there is nothing more in this world that I value more than your love and the trust we share. I love you, my heart. You are my love, and I hope you always will be. (Now let's hurry up and get to the kiss because that's all I want to do after giving a speech like that).

---

I am determined to work at least one or two Baldur confession lines into this for the two people at my wedding who might catch the references. For now, my own writing skills I think will suffice.

[kaurwreck]

hi i love reading your posts about bsd!!! they're very insightful + very clearly written by someone who's spent a while familiarizing themself with what they're talking about, and they're often refreshingly unique. particularly always taken aback (surprised? in a good way) by the trust you have in bsd in a work. even when i disagree with them, your analyses and theories are always (1) interesting (2) evidently written by someone approaching bsd and their conversations in good faith, both of which matter a lot to me.

might be completely off-base, but do you think having a background in law might impact writing bluntly/authoritatively, especially if your writing is perceived differently out of fandom spaces? i don't have enough experience to be confident, but that tone next to the emphasis on clarity in your writing feels like it fits, even if only in a chicken-and-egg way.

I stand by my problematic wife!!!!!!

I really, really do have so much faith in and love for bsd, and I trust Kafka Asagiri implicitly. This is, in part, because months and months ago, as I felt myself becoming consumed by the source material, I recognized I needed to temper myself and my expectations of the work.

My intensity and obsessiveness are as familiar to me as the beleaguered tendons in my wrists. I know twinging aches precede sharp, heated pain, so I know when to wrap the inflammation before it flares any further. Similarly, I know that if I don't ground myself before hours of hyperfixated research become tens of hours, I risk becoming disillusioned, and I risk pouring myself completely into something that won't replenish that time, energy, and emotional investment. So, I wrap my wrist when I can feel the inklings of tendinitis, and I reorient around authorial intent when the hyperfixation begins to spore.

So, I sought out interviews with Kafka Asagiri, expecting that he'd spoken to the limitations of his authorial framework.

(This sounds silly, but it works for me; for example, I adore Vanitas no Carte, but I only engage with the material referenced in VnC (ex: Song of Roland) shallowly except insofar as I have an independent interest. This is because when I similarly felt I might become obsessed, I sought out interviews, during which Jun Mochizuki stated clearly that the references she makes don't penetrate the substance of her characters or the story. So, I'll skim them, but most of the energy I pour into VnC (of which there's a lot), I pour into VnC itself rather than it's reference materials. This is because I'm rewarded by insights into the narrative I hadn't noticed before; different facets of interpretation I hadn't previously considered; greater understanding of the characters; etc. It's reciprocal; otherwise, it drains me dry because I cannot emphasize enough, I do not approach research like any human person should.)

Anyway, so, I searched for and identified statements Kafka Asagiri made about the referenced material. And, I was pleasantly surprised that he is passionate about the underlying literature and, from the outset, wrote the story hoping his audience would gain an interest in the literary works from which he took inspiration. And that sufficed, that constituted assurance that while I couldn't expect that he would intend all of the connections my obsessive, insatiable, pattern hungry brain would make, there was depth I could explore while still engaging with bsd.

What's wild is that I was expecting, like, easter eggs and light or ambiguous foreshadowing. Instead, once I started researching the period, authors, works, etc., the story began to open and come together where it hadn't been before. I clearly was already enjoying it, but there were what I perceived to be fairly severe structural flaws and neither narrative focus nor diverse enough arcs. Except the more I read the source material and the more I engaged with bsd as a multimedia work in which the various adaptations were facets of a whole rather than the same story reinterpreted + the various spinoffs as fragments of canon; the more I noticed a dialogue between bsd and its source materials. Which, taken together, recontextualized what I previously perceived to be narrative flaws such that while novel in structure, bsd became a satisfying, deeply intentional narrative.

This isn't to say I am noticing only and everything Asagiri intended to write, but his own sincere engagement with the works on top of which bsd is written is so tightly woven into the story and characters that bsd is a genuinely innovative medium of literary critique and historical reflection for an expansive array of literature that spans several eras.

So, I really, really do have so much faith in and love for bsd, and I trust Kafka Asagiri implicitly. Not because I think it's without flaws or that it hits each of its marks; because, quite frankly, even evaluated in the context of its unique structure, it's a rough tumbled gem. I certainly don't trust the story to fall into into a more common or familiar structure either.

Instead, I trust it to be sincere, compassionate, thoughtful, ambitiously playful, delightfully absurd, and I trust it to have more heart than sense. But mostly, I trust that while the story and Kafka Asagiri are untethered from convention, they are grounded in the hope and love and desperate yearning for humanity that saturates each of the namesake authors' works and legacies.

So, yeah, I'm never worried; but I'm often delighted.

(also, thank you so much for the kind words!!! y'all are ruining me with how sweet you've been this evening 🥺 you're also very, very on point regarding the impact of my law background on my writing, specifically its bluntness and emphasis on clarity. the authoritativeness actually preceded my legal training and even my ability to write. i'll spare you the baby lore, but, like, yeah, i think we should just cut our losses on that one.)

[sleepy-seal]

Welcome back to another installment of: TMAGP & Treats!!!!!!!!

While I'm here I will say: I am so so so sorry that I fell behind. I assumed that the once-a-week updates with making a single baked good would suffice as it's not like I'm doing this daily. I underestimated not only how taxing it would be to ask for ingredients from my parents, but also to keep up with the schedule. The pressure to mull the episode over and connect the dots enough to string together a coherent analysis has pretty much axed any way of doing this efficiently. Like a wise woman once said, you can have it right, or you can have it fast. With all that said, I think I'm ready to get back on track once more and do weekly installments. I will just have to make some adjustments. Now, here's the treat of the week!

This week (pretend it's on the day ep 6 was relwased okay) was Chocolate Crinkles!!!! Now without further ado, here's my thoughts:

- as is the nature of my recent surgery, i have to be cautious with what i eat, but i think i can make an exception with these

- 4 HOURS???? THIS NEEDS THAT LONG TO CHILL BEFORE GOING IN THE OVEN??????

- whatever i'll have enough time to think about the episode

- oof. sam you really need your rest

- A NEW PERSON? ALREADY

- well my money is on you sam so i really hope you stick it out

- HELLO???

- needles is a kickass name i'll give them that

- an act of affection you say? an act of love? maybe obsessi

- MARKED?????

- i have a feeling that we're going to be seeing needles again

- SAM STOP

- YOU ARE GETTING THE DESIRE TO KNOW THATS REALLY BAD

- i'll tell you what he'll do really well in the institute. if it was still around

- CELIAAAAAA

- you've only been here for like 1 episode and i love you already

- don't get attached huh?

- LMAOOOOO

- okay let me finish making the dough for the treat and i'll start compiling my thoughts

FINALLY THOUGHTS:

first of all, i love celia so so so much. aside from the insistence from alice that sam has a romantic crush on her giving me a knee-jerk uncomfortable reaction as an aromantic myself, i really love her. i never really made the connection between her and the celia from tma until i double checked the tag on tumblr, but it is nice to see lowrie back! i am interested in how this will culminate. i really do love celia though. she's silly in a lame way. she's my favorite character. clap for her Now.

second of all, sam. sammy. samama khalid. my buddy boy my friendo. you have Got to stop fucking around and finding out. first, it was actively seeking out information and digging when he shouldn't. then it was signing the response 121 form. and now it's this reaction to when the case was abruptly cut off with no clean ending. he wants to know more. the warning signs are there, but i'm hoping that he's still able to get out of there when he can.

unfortunately, this is all the thoughts i wrote at the time. i was planning on writing more, but sadly i ran out of steam by the time the cookies were done, and by then i just went to bed and didn't end up completing TMAGP & Treats in time. i will promise to make up in the future though!!!!

[cheerstotheelites-if]

Oh god it's been a year already??? April 8??? Wasn't it just March yesterday?

Oh, uh, s h i t

Happy 1 Year Anniversary! (Holy crap)

Man, time sure is f a s t. One year of being here with you guys and just vibing. Zamn. That's crazy.

I know I keep saying this, but I really do appreciate all of you guys for sticking around for so long. I never expected the silly little stories with my silly little characters 13 year old me was writing and creating would come to this in the end. It's honestly just so mind boggling, and I want to say thank you. Thank you for showing your support, for being so patient with me, for those that send such fun asks and prompts to answer, and just being so cool in general. Don't say that you aren't. I'll fight ye on that. I also thank the lurkers in my followers, I know you and I don't tango too much with interactions but your likes, reblogs or just generally looking through is enough for me.

I'd also like to thank the mutuals and friends I made in the IF community and in the Write Club Discord server for being so cool and helpful. I never expected to make any mutuals here, and I'm honestly glad I did.

I'm kissing you all platonically on the cheek because you deserve it for being the best. 💙💙💙

Now, for the Anniversary Special content...... I don't have one written. I already have a short one for 1k Followers and is just waiting to be posted, but I forgot to prep one for the Anniversary. 🥲😭😭

I was planning to make a small IF to commomerate it, but college finals reared its ugly head like a disease so I didn't have enough time. So, instead, I'll just give y'all some Beta and BtS facts about this IF before it came to be as it is now. Hope that'll suffice, and I promise I'll make it up to y'all next year. 😭😭

Back in the earliest drafts for this IF, the prologue was supposed to start with a student Magus summoning an eldritch being from the underside of Reflection and it backfiring completely. The genre was supposed to fully embrace supernatural, but I ended up scrapping it instead for what we have now.

Beta Zephyrine was a mean girl diva; supposedly Fleur's opposite and bully. I changed it after deciding that Zeph's better off being Fleur's opposite in a more positive way (the version Zeph currently is) and genuinely being Fleur's friend, than whatever toxic mess the former was.

Eliseo was originally gonna be the big bad because of well… look at him. I ended up not doing that, because… look at him. He's simpable material, unfortunately.

Emery wasn't supposed to exist. I didn't originally intend for MC to learn nor have magic in the original drafts, thus no Familiar needed either, and let them be a non-magic character in the story. I changed my mind when I thought about how unfair that'll be, since that'll just make MC more of a damsel than a person with autonomy.

The 1586 Accident and the Willowsberg family as a whole was originally supposed to stay as a "myth" and unexplored as a whole. They were supposed to be mentioned only in passing and not talked about again.

In the early drafts, Fleur's parents were already dead/gone and she was working as her family bank's CEO at the start of the story. She was an outside figure that you'll meet through either Zephyrine or Weylyn.

Cooper was originally more of a loveable asshole back in his early characterization stages; smug know-it-all that loves to be a mischief maker. I have no idea what change happened to make him the hyper golden retriever he is now, but I don't regret it and I don't wanna know.

The choice of setting the IF in a rural city and in Lumintoile Academia specifically was based on old oneshots I wrote about Weylyn and Fleur 2-3 years ago. If you want to know what those oneshots are about, both of them are confessions scenes with Weylyn being the confessor.

Before Ophelia came to be as the 6th RO, she was originally supposed to be an antagonist, mostly due to a oneshot I wrote about her as a concept character 2 years ago. There were scenes planned where she would fight the cast and drama would ensue, but knowing what I know, I ended up scrapping the idea.

Weylyn's characterization didn't change much from his beta, surprisingly, and I think he's the only one who has retained his beta traits (besides some mild redesigning). I always intended him to be, well, him. The only things that did change are in spoiler territory, but very important to his characterization.

There were supposed to be 2 more side characters that you'll be introduced to in the early chapters with Fleur being a young CEO idea in mind, which were her two younger estranged cousins from her mother's side. I scrapped the idea for now, but they might make an appearance soon.

I had ideas to implement variables that show preferrences and proficiency in what magic MC uses, intending for them (MC) to be a jack-of-all trades instead of focusing solely on one magic. But then I thought about the long list of already existing variables I've written down, and went nope.

Eliseo & Fleur had the most rewrites and rehauls on their characterization. From what I can count and remember until recently, it's 10.

When I was making Emery, and basing him off of the Familiar Poll results, he was intented to be younger, 3 years old to be exact. I decided to age him up to 5 years old, because a) he would be too powerful, b) baby, c) "sir, that is a toddler and fresh out of infancy", and d) he would be too powerful.

The inspiration for the IF's whole vibes are from Kiersten White's 'The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein', V.C. Andrew's 'My Sweet Audrina', Laurie Anderson's 'Speak', Kyoukai no Kanata, Wonder Egg Priority, and the Dark Academia aesthetic itself.

This was originally supposed to be a self-contained story, more of a moment in the cast's life than something that will affect them in the long run or be actively going through with time, until I decided to add it into a growing timeline of events alongside other IF's.

[dumbwaystodeviate]

Androids deviating bc they watch Gavin drink pickle juice straight from the jar

Despite the abundance of deviants, especially after the party that was cyberlife, there were quite a few androids still milling around the city in their default state. Not really their fault considering the choir took to the streets and not in the buildings, the rooms they lingered in like time capsules to a much more mechanic past. Of course, androids were trying their best to get to all of them, but some were just stubborn about it so were left to deal with it at their own pace.

Like all the PC and PMs that still worked in the DPD. They weren't hurting anything so they were left to keep doing their work until a wild wire crawled up their tailpipes and they chose to leave. Some did, some didn’t, but that was ok.

Among the androids was also Sixty, fixed up to the best of their abilities to work along side the other androids as long as he minded his manners. Not that it was hard, if he tried anything Nines typically picked him up like a cat and just removed him from the room, so shenanigans with deviants was put to a halt.

The Rk had been as appalled as a bot could be seeing the larger Rk had gone deviant, though on the other Sixty could at least say he was better made in that regard. His curiosity, programmed in he swears, brought him to question Nines about how in the world that had even happened.

“Have you ever seen a human eat a lemon? They are not supposed to do that. It’s not right, it’s against nature. I’m an android and know nature doesn't work like that.” The RK actually locked up thinking about it, clearly distressed at the concept.

Sixty never did get a chance to ask which human did that, but he thought it was a silly reason to deviate. It was just a fruit and humans were by default weird so how shocking could it be? Well it wasn’t his problem so he didn’t dwell on it, going about his work as he bounced between partners for the day.

Today he was stuck with Detective Reed, not that it was all that bad seeing as they strangely got along. Maybe it was because of the whole ‘ass kicked by Connor’ thing, neither did get along with him well. It was a easy day, not much to work on other than writing and discussions, some of which came a little harder with the constant eyeballing they got from the other two RKs. What was their deal?

With noon came lunch, Sixty remaining at his desk as he liked to do, not really concerning himself with the second daily grind of just humans trying to stay alive. What a pain in the ass that must be. But Gavin was a hard worker, so it wasn’t surprising that he got a text in his hud from the man asking for his work tablet, he rivaled the RK in terms of being a workaholic sometimes. A formidable opponent at least.

The only downside was the man had a problem with placing his things in the weirdest of places, something the android had complained about once before. But Gavin’s a raccoon that will put things where he pleases, so the RK resigns to shuffling through his things until he finds the closest thing a human would get to a HUD. 

Making his way to the breakroom he’s surprised the first thing he sees is Nines standing near the entrance, led spinning yellow and offended. The other RK doesn't even look at him or the other androids meandering around him, never taking his eyes off Gavin. Weird but ok, nothing worth worrying about, just a deviancy he guessed. He could ask later, for now he headed over to hand over the tablet.

“Detective, it would be much easier to find what you want if you kept things in a decent spot.” Judging by what was on the table, Sixty could only guess Gavin was almost done with lunch, so why not wait? 

“I put shit where I know where it is, deal with it.” He didn’t really leave much room for argument as he snatched the tablet up.

In hindsight Sixty should have gone back to his desk instead of waiting for Gavin, but he didn’t because as much as his prediction software liked to mimic it he was in fact not a psychic. He really wished he was though.

Sixty couldn’t hope to ignore the loud crunch from the human as he took a bite out of a pickle, bunching on it like it was candy. He supposed to some it might be, it was enough to make his processors stutter. What really got the led spinning gold was watching him bring the jar up like a glass.

“Detective, That isn’t your drink, you have the wrong glass.” The RK swore he heard Nines make a distressed noise at this.

Gavin, the cheeky bastard he is, only keep his eyes on Sixty as he continued on and tipped the jar back to drink the contents. The Android couldn’t do more than watch as he downed more and more of the vile liquid, led flickering quickly to red along with two PCs and Nines. The feral man had a whole audience to the shit show that was his diet.

Sixty wasn’t sure what was going on with the other androids and quite frankly with his glitching systems he didn’t care at the moment. How on earth could a man drink something so sour? The smell alone set off his senors just standing near it, let along this. There was a small moment where he debated on making sure no more pickles found their way into the office at all.

It was the clang of the jar hitting the table and the smug grin on Gavin’s face that snapped Sixty out of it, programming glitching so hard the RK couldn’t do more than delete the whole thing. He could be mad later that he deviated over pickles, right now he could only bear the overwhelming disgust of the human in front of him.

“Detective. That was, without a doubt, one of the most revolting thing I have ever seen. And I have to lick things.” Judging from the other three androids in the room, he guessed he wasn’t the only one.

“I told you it...Just isn’t natural...” Nines whole face was scrunched at the sight, used to the man but still disturbed. It was almost funny seeing the other two PCs trying to hide behind him. Wasn’t hard to tell Sixty wasn’t the only one to deviate.

The widening grin from Gavin was enough to get the android to turn tail. “Just watching that makes me feel to clean my own mouth.”

[kaaytea]

hey! i hope youre doing great! if it isnt a problem, could you do atsumu, oikawa, sakusa and kuroo with a s/o who overthinks alot and notices that theyre hanging out with someone else alot recently and is scared that they're going to leave but they reassure reader that they won't leave? it'd be nice if it was fluffy :(((

Hi cutie! I'm doing well and I hope you are too! I apologize if Sakusa isn't very..Sakusa-y?? I'm still figuring him out a bit 😅 I tried my best to make it fluffy enough, I hope what I wrote will suffice

The Dangers of Overthinking

⤷Includes: Oikawa, Kuroo, Atsumu, Sakusa

-------------------------------------------

Oikawa

It's no secret that Oikawa is a pretty popular guy

And usually this doesn't bother you much, no matter how busy Oikawa was he always had little ways to reassure you he wasn't ignoring you

Gradually you started to notice him spending less time checking in on you throughout the day, the most you'd get is a pat on the head, a quick kiss, or a short text before Oiks slipped away with the rest of his team

You did your best to ignore the little voice in your head expressing that he was avoiding you. Oikawa was committed to his sport and that was fine, this behavior was normal

But the one thing you couldn't shake was whenever he went off with the team there was a person you didn't recognize in the group

You'd met his team HUNDREDS of times and by this point you knew everyone by name, number, and position from the hours you've sat with Tooru and watched game recordings. It was the middle of the season so they couldn't have suddenly got a new player

So who was this person? And why was your boyfriend always gravitating towards them?

Overthinking was dangerous for you, the longer you dwelled the further you fell into the dark doubts tucked into the back of your mind

This continued on for weeks until one day you just stayed in bed wrapped in blankets with only your thoughts

Setters are trained to notice small things, little details that could reveal a weakness in defense, anything that would help them decide who to set too

Oikawa was beautifully gifted in that aspect of a setter, it didn't take long to notice how distanced you'd become

Originally he thought it was a personal matter so he let you have your space, except unlike the other times you didn't bounce back. Infact, you were getting further from him the longer it went on

Oikawa quietly opened the door to your bedroom, letting his volleyball bag slip off his shoulder and placing it by the door

He sat down carefully on the side of your bed before he playful poked your side

"(y/n)-chaaan~"

You didn't respond and only pulled the sheets tighter around you causing a pout to form on his face

He gently pulled the sheets away from your head and pressed his hand to your forehead

"You don't have a fever so you're definitely not sick.....wanna tell me what's wrong?"

"You're not gonna leave me, right?"

Your voice was so quiet he just barely heard what you said

The hand on your forehead slipped down to your cheek, his thumb brushed softy across your cheek bone

"Why would I leave you?"

"You keep hanging around that person"

"Ah, be a little more specific sweetie"

"The blonde one! The blonde that's been hanging off you when you're with the team!"

You finally open up to him and what's he do? LAuGh! He's laughing at you!

Tears started to burn in your eyes as you quickly went to pull the covers over your head and flip onto your side facing away from him, only Oiks was a step ahead and pulled you into a sitting position facing him

"W-wait wait, Let me explain! (Y/n)-chan, that's our new manager. They've been helping me plan out drills for the team."

"Oh"

Well now you felt a bit silly

After a few seconds of silence you sighed and hid your face in Oikawa's shoulder. His arms wrapped around you body and he leaned back against your headboard

He spent the rest of the night holding you, whispering promises of never leaving you and how you're more important to him than anything else

Kuroo

Kuroo's friendly personality seemed to just attract people

I mean it was definitely something that hooked you so it was understandable why people tend to flock to him

It's just frustrating when he seems to have plans with people all the time, you barely see him these days

You didn't want to bring this to his attention in fear of being seen as clingy or controlling; Tetsu was your partner and had his own life, he wasn't a pet you could whistle for whenever you felt lonely

But you couldn't help but feel a bit....rejected

You were only about 5 minutes into lunch break and so far all you've done is lay your head on your desk and watched the rain fall outside

The gloomy day enhanced your depressed mood, your mind caught in the whirlpool of overthinking

Suddenly a little package was placed in front of you, followed by the sound of a chair being pulled up to your desk

You lifted your head from the desk only to find the very person that's been stuck in your mind sitting infront of you

"I got you melon bread from that bakery you like down the street, I would have given it to you earlier but you weren't here when I got to campus this morning."

"I missed my train..."

Kuroo snorted at your response and muttered something about you being cute before pulling out his lunch and beginning to eat

You opened the melon bread package, it looked delicious but your appetite seemed to have vanished

Kuroo watched you tear off a piece of the bread before placing the piece back on the wrappings with a sigh

Something was definitely wrong, you never turned down pastries from that bakery

"Not hungry?"

"Not really..."

"Did something else happen this morning? You're looking a bit...dejected"

You could never lie to Kuroo, and at this point you were so fed up with feeling alone that you didn't care about looking clingy, so you told him

He listened carefully to what you said and when you finished your rant he reached over the desk to hold your hands in his

"I'm sorry I made you feel like that. It won't happen again, I promise.....You've gotta tell me these things though, ok? I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

You could tell he meant every word he said, if there was one thing you knew about Kuroo it was that he prided himself on staying true to his promises

You felt a weight off your shoulders the second he pressed a kiss to your hand

You even got your appetite back and devoured the melon bread he got you!

Atsumu

You'd of never expected Atsumu to spend time with someone outside of the volleyball team

Especially one of his fan girls of all people

All this interaction between the two started abruptly during lunch break. The girl had bounced up and pulled him away from your little group before anyone could get a word in, everyone just stared as the blonde was dragged down the hall

You were use to the fan girls, 'Tsumu never gave them the time of day so it was never a problem, but this just felt...off

Why was he suddenly paying attention to one of them? Was he bored of you? We're you just not enough to satisfy his ego?

You were torn from your thoughts by a gentle call of your name

You turned your attention from the clipboard in your lap to the direction of the voice meeting Kita's soft but steady eyes

"You seem less energetic than normal, have you eaten anything today?"

"Oh I'm fine Kita-senpai, you don't have to-"

You were cut off by him handing you a banana and a rant about how even their manager has to be in peak condition

You couldn't refuse Kita so you took the food with a smile and powered through the rest of practice

You left immediately after you finished cleaning the gym, ignoring the calls from Atsumu to wait up for him

You tried to walk fast so he wouldn't be able to catch up but the universe seemed to be against you as he easily jogged up to you minutes after you left

"Wassup with ya today? Kita-san said you were actin' weird."

"I'm surprised you noticed he said anything, your attention seems to be on other people."

Atsumu stepped infront of you, blocking you from walking further down the road

"Wass that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know Miya, why don't you ask your little fan girl"

You stepped around him attempting to run the rest of the way home but his hand grabbed your arm, spinning you back around to face him

Atsumu's hands held you in place to keep you from running away

"That's what this is about? That annoyin' scrub who won't leave me alone?"

"Annoying scrub?"

Atsumu went on explaining how he was partnered with her for a project in Japanese history and how even after they finished the project she wouldn't leave him alone (no matter how many times he told her to go away)

After he explained you felt a little better but you still felt insecurities scratching at your mind

You reached out for his hand and started walking again, keeping your eyes on the ground as you walked

"You didn't think I was cheatin' on ya.....right?"

"....."

".....I'd never leave ya for someone like that, yer the only one I've got my eyes on. Plus, yer the only person I've found that can tolerate me."

You laughed slightly at that, he wasn't completely wrong. Atsumu was a rather complex person but you found something enjoyable in that complexity

He let go of your hand and pulled you into his side, keeping his arm wrapped around your waist as you walked

Sakusa

Ok so maybe you were a bit jealous

Not much, but just a bit

You should have expected Sakusa would have admirers as the ace of Itachiyama (not to mention he was a very handsome guy)

But it still catches you off guard with how outwardly flirty your fellow manager was

Like they even know you're in a relationship with Kiyoomi and yet they continue to throw themselves at him

Being jealous over that was honestly very silly on your part because Sakusa has expressed their flirting makes him uncomfortable

So really there wasn't anything to worry about

Well...

That is until one day you overheard them telling Sakusa they enjoyed going out last night and that they should do it again

Which he responded with a "maybe"

If you were paying attention you would have noticed the flat tone to his voice and how his body language exuded 'Im very uncomfortable please go away'

But you being you, the second the manager opened their mouth your mind shut down and your blood went cold

They went out together last night?

You avoided everyone for the rest of practice, offering instead to clean practice jerseys and water bottles

Those were jobs usually done by two people but you needed to get away from everyone and you were hoping the jobs would take up the rest of practice

By the time you were nearly done with cleaning the water bottles, Sakusa had joined you at the outside fountain, mask pulled up on his face, his bag on one shoulder and yours on the other

"Do you want help?"

"You don't have to Omi.....it's my job anyways"

Despite your dismissal of his offer, he placed both your bags down and helped you clean the rest of the bottles, even going as far as carrying them back into the gym for you

You followed him over to the equipment room, you unlocked the door and took the box from his arms and put it on It's shelf

"You ready to go?"

"Almost, I have to throw the jerseys into the dryer. You can go on ahead without me."

"I'll wait, I want to avoid Komori. I don't feel like being dragged out with his friends again."

Dragged out with his friends? So it wasn't a secret date, Sakusa was forced to go by his cousin

Sakusa made his way by you to the gym's laundry room, Swifty tossing the practice jerseys into the dryer and then returning to your side

"You can stop worrying now, I know you overheard our conversation earlier. I would have much rather spent the night with you than them....they're too pushy for my liking."

He picked up your bags again and offered you his arm (something he much preferred over holding hands)

though he was usually a stoic person, you could just see the warmth his eyes held as he looked at you

You linked your arm with his, soaking up the heat from his body and the calm atmosphere that surrounded him

[catcze]

hey it’s kiwi anon! i’ve been melting at the thought of musician kazuha lately so i just knew i had to let it out somehow. ^^;;

*before reading, i’d like to note that this is somewhat of a modern au where the reader and kazuha attend a prestigious music school known for raising successful musicians. only the best of the best are accepted, so it’s certainly a privilege to be there! (though, of course, it has its downsides but we’ll get to that later..)

and i wrote it in second person (gn!) this time!! >:)

(tbh i’m not particularly proud of this one but i really hope you guys like it anyway. ><)

“The stray melody:

its echo reverberates

such sad solitude.”

“Only at the right time shall the day come when I may ride the infallible winds of freedom to the place where creativity bears no bounds.”

“You are bound?” “How so?” You questioned.

After a long awaited interlude, you were finally face to face with the (formerly) faceless musician.

—

About a month ago, you were assigned a new practice room. Although most students would view this as a blessing from the archons, you found yourself in an unfavorable situation. Suddenly being thrown into playing in a new environment made you uneasy, and though your stance on this was unwavering, there was no disobeying the school.

But the first time the sound of violin seeped through the walls and filled your room with its charming tune, you were bewitched. For some strange reason, it was comforting to know that someone else was on the other side of the wall. Occasionally, you would pause practice abruptly only to listen to the chords, losing yourself in thought with the way they blended together in the most musical way possible; but before you could notice, an hour or two has passed and you’ve barely done much of anything.

Maybe this was a curse, but you surely weren’t one to complain about it.

One day, with no warning, it seemed the violinist began to play along with you. It never occurred to you that they could also listen through the wall, so it came as a complete surprise. It became a chivalric battle of wits; melodies fighting for dominance but only ever resulting in a satisfying draw. You couldn’t help but imagine their fingers dancing along the stringed instrument as your own strutted along the keys of the piano. And the way you two subconsciously created a heavenly harmony was enough to spark your interest and unhinged curiosity. Who are you?

But before you could ask, a faint voice spoke, “My dorm is located on the top floor near the gardens. I… do not expect you to meet me, but this could be considered as a statement or an invitation, however you perceive it.” That is what he said that day. God, even his voice was musical.

You, too, had no intention of meeting him directly. The thought of the school suspending the two of you for doing the bare minimum brought you back into your shell. You had limits, and there was nothing getting between you and your music career.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t willing to give some small effort into discovering the truth. Into the late hours of the evening, you took a casual stroll around the school’s gardens. Fortunately, you were alone. The silence was pleasant, but it didn’t last for long. As the familiar sound reached your perked ears, you searched around for the source of the noise. And there he was, standing on his patio with his long, bright hair tied back as the evening winds stroked each strand in its clutches— a violin held in his hand.

Everything about him was musical— even the way he pressed his delicate yet calloused fingers along the strings of the violin's neck. It didn’t take long for you to catch interest in the ruby-eyed violinist.

There was no explaining the way you two locked eyes for the first time. Though joyous, it seemed you both were lost— since when had you cared so much for someone you’d never met?

As it turned out, your dorms happened to be in close proximity with each other. It became routine for you to lean expectantly against the edge of your patio and for the violinist to leave his doors open so you could listen to his music as the sun would find its slumber, resting upon the horizon.

It didn’t take long for you to grow rather greedy. You longed to learn more about him, but everything about him was shrouded in an empty veil of unanswered questions and an identity you failed to identify.

Luckily, fate has its ways.

Curiosity led you to find yourself exploring into the deeper, abandoned depths of the school’s halls. You entered into a seemingly empty music room before shortly realizing you weren’t alone. The feeling of eyes staring daggers at your back made you prickle with fear until you turned to realize that such eyes belonged to the skilled violinist himself.

“Comedic coincidence always has its ways,” he remarked, the corners of his lips lifting into a gentle grin.

—

His face was always melded into the shape of endless pondering. He had a relaxed nature that was simply unchanging. And though he often appears to be a simple man at first glance, Kaedehara Kazuha was anything but simple.

It surprised you to see a vulnerable side of him, because you never expected him to have one. First impressions were surely deceiving.

He crouched over, his hand supporting his head in a lazy manner.

“I sense that I am suffering from a lack of passion— the kind that children may experience as they wrap their fingers around a bow for the first time,” a stray shadow came across him as he breathily sighed, “The walls of this school are suffocating, but I, like many others, can endure this drowning feeling.”

Kazuha often spoke in a unique manner— resembling a loud whisper.

“So, I wasn’t the only one who noticed,” you noted, “I’d hate to admit it, but this school is a living nightmare.”

Kazuha’s eyebrows furrowed and his eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

“And neither of us can wake from it.”

Momentarily, he shifted his position so he sat closer to you. His shoulder shrugged as his arm straightened and his hand held onto the edge of the seat to support himself, his handsome head hung idly backwards.

“But, I feel like I have a reason to keep going, but as of now it lingers in my head as an enigma of sorts. Perhaps it is odd to find myself blindly following passion without reason, but I have a feeling that perhaps,” he paused, his fingers traced along the seat and his pinkie linked delicately with yours, “you have a role to play in this.”

Your face burned slightly at the sudden display of physical touch.

His speech was vague. You naively wanted to question his use of words (and actions), but it didn’t seem timely. Until, next time.

You beamed slightly, “Perhaps so.”

Kazuha’s pinkie finger squeezed against yours before letting go. He stood up with his eyes still burning into your own.

“It appears I have surpassed my original practice time,” his eyes shifted towards the door, “We must take our leave before someone discovers that we are here.”

With his back facing you, Kazuha wrapped his hand around the door knob, but before he could turn it, he turned his head to look at you once more, flashing that signature smile of his.

“If you don’t mind me asking, would you like to be my accompanist for the upcoming concert?”

To you, Kazuha was like a hatchling, growing each day and itching to spread his wings and fly to places that are unheard of. He worked constantly, trying to rewrite the textbook definition of music into something more meaningful. He was ambitious, highly so; but you adored that about him.

It is silly, but you began to think that perhaps one day, you could be the one who frees him from the school’s heavy shackles.

- kiwi ! (hopelessly falling for ridiculously complicated plots to write about-)

(and no, i don’t play the violin hahah so sorry for any errors. :/ i play multiple instruments and have taken and still take music education so i hope that suffices.. might go for something more sweet and simple next time with more snarky kazu <3)

Holy shit!! Kiwi, babe, you never fail to impress akjndajks 😭

ajndkjsdPLEASE this is so good oh my goddakjsdas <33333

BABE you just keep outdoing yourself I–– 😭💞

This was literally so good?? Like, all of it? ajksndajks holy shittt <3333

Kiwi I am at a literal loss for words but I really, really hope you see how in love with this I am from my keysmashing akjsndkja <33333

[hange-zone]

anything fluffy for jeanmarco 😭 like them realizing they have feelings for each other 🥺 i cant take anymore sadness for them 😔

The first thing Marco does when Jean says, “I like you,” is to hug him. Which wasn’t exactly in any of the scenarios he’d practiced with Armin or carefully gone over in his head. But Marco is warm and nice-smelling and Jean really, really likeshim, so much so it leaves him all slushy inside, so he responds by wrapping his arms around the taller boy and hugs him back. They stay like that for a few long seconds. He can feel his heart thumping in his chest and he bets, embarrassingly, that Marco can too. And he isn’t sure what to make of it. He isn’t sure what the hug is supposed to mean, either, so after a while he wriggles them apart and tilts his chin up, meeting Marco’s caramel eyes.

“Um,” he starts. Then, feeling so lame, because it’s such a terrible desperate silly move, but also he needs to know definitively  where Marco stands and the other boy has so far said nothing, he ventures, “Er. Do you…like me…?”  

He feels his face burn as Marco regards him questioningly, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side as he mulls over Jean’s words. Jean bites his lip, watching as the evening sunlight catches on the planes of his face. They’re standing inches apart and he can see every minute detail: the pale hairs, almost like peach fuzz, over the curve of his square jaw and every pore and line across his cheeks and in the corners of his mouth where he smiled, and the flecks of gold in his eyes which regarded him wordlessly. He can feel himself fixating on how the warm rays of the fading day illuminate his long lashes and how his cheeks were dusted with freckles - ugh, how he wanted to crush his stupidly red and soft mouth against his, cradle his obnoxiously handsome face and- 

“Of course I like you,” Marco says, after a pause. His expression is neutral and his voice is even and bright. From his response it seemed as if they were discussing nothing more consequential than what to have for dinner. Which it certainly was not - or at least it felt that way to Jean. He continues, in that same reasonable way: “You’re a great guy, Jean. Why wouldn’t I?” 

Oh my god, Jean thinks. Oh my god. It’s actually worse now. They’re nowhere closer to an understanding. He likes him, he really does, and Marco was usually sharp and incisive and good at these things, but he was either being deliberately obtuse or maybe words didn’t mean anything anymore, they were just sounds people made with their mouths, the whole project of language was a construct, yes, the concept of the author had died and there was no single intention to be assigned to anything, anymore. And so it was totally reasonable for Marco to act this way because what was ‘I like you’ or 'do you like me' or even the idea of 'liking' supposed to mean anyway?

He makes a face and reaches a hand to scrub at the back of his neck, which is hot under his touch. His entire face - no, his whole body - is on fire now. He actually wants to shrivel up and die, or at least go and scold Armin, who he irrationally hates now, because he’d hyped him up and told him it was a good idea and why didn’t anyone warn him it would be so bloody awkward?

Marco looks upon Jean’s furiously blushing face and starts laughing. “Sorry,” he says, pausing to catch his breath. “Sorry - you look constipated - sorry, I-”

Jean stares at him uncomprehendingly, mouth hanging open and body stock-still. His hand is paused in his hair and his eyes are large and blank, barely registering the other boy’s movements. “What?” He manages.

“Armin’s a little snitch,” Marco says, amusedly, by way of explanation. He’s still laughing. “Or maybe you two just discuss everything really loudly and maybe Eren heard -“

At the sound of the too-loud, too-annoying boy’s name Jean unfroze. “Him?” He sputters.

“Joking,” Marco says. “You’re not exactly subtle when you like someone” - and Jean thinks, involuntarily, of the times he’d tried to play it off when their hands had brushed together and the one time they ended up huddled together in bed but he’d really rationalised it was them keeping warm - and he lets out a long breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. The other boy was watching him, a cheeky smile playing at his lips. He continues: “Besides, I thought I was pretty obvious. Like, duh, why else would I tell you goodnight every single day and squeeze your hand and why are we even planning our lives together?”

“Friends do that,” Jean says weakly, miserably. 

“…really?” 

“Armin and Eren do,” he offers stubbornly.

“And we’ve caught them messing about in the broom cupboard - ”

“Fine, you win,” he says huffily, throwing his hands up. He really likes Marco, but he really does not like how smug he looks. And how good and hot he looks while smirking at him. Ugh.

Marco can probably read his mind, because he slings an arm around Jean’s shoulders, pulling him close, and plants an exaggerated kiss in his hair. “There,” he says, nuzzling him. “You happy now?”

Jean nods grudgingly. He is, of course, because he likes Marco and Marco likes him back (here he can only think in interrobangs),  but also that was such a dick move on his part. He’s annoyed at the other boy, but he also wishes that he’d kiss the top of his head again so he can feel that slow heart-flip. “...Yes.”

“Good,” Marco says, voice suddenly low and serious. His long fingers reach out to cup the other boy’s chin. Jean lets his eyes trail up the slender fingers, past his tanned wrist and forearms, across his broad shoulders, eventually settling on Marco’s face, which is angled, ever so slightly, downward. His features are relaxed and an easy smile is on the edges of his lips. It’s a diagonal line, a heartbeat long, between them. Their noses are almost touching. His breath hitches as his gaze flickers to Marco’s - they are so close and he is drowning in the amber of the other boy’s eyes as they share a long look. Then, just before their lips meet, Marco whispers, breath soft against his mouth: “I like you a terrible lot, Jean Kirschstein.” 

When they do kiss, it is exactly as he’s imagined and words have meaning again because it is exactly as the words feel: simple and tender and sweet. And the whole time he can’t help but think about how he really, really likes this boy. 

--

here you go anon! it isn't exactly them realising their feelings for each other, mostly because it’s painfully obvious but i do hope this suffices:”) they are such goofy dorks & adorable kids in love. and just putting it out there shamelessly - i wrote something ages ago about how they’d confessed but it’s so lame!  anyway it’s quite funny to see how far we’ve come. (also in my head that the last scene where they kiss is exactly like this moment [insert interrobangs!!]) 

(and here’s the ao3 crosspost + encouragement to submit more!)

[littlestarlost]

what happened.

All this hunger is Always following us Out where we survive under poisonous skies They’re dreaming, but nobody’s sleeping Just coked hearts speeding See all the gold teeth gleaming See all the young, healthy free men Just move into nothing

(CW: discussion of mental health, trauma, PTSD)

A version of this post has been sitting in my drafts folder for ten months. I know this, because I originally began to write it around late January, just in time for the one-year mark to have passed since I’d last updated Setting Sun. When I posted that most recent update, I had just turned 30 years old, and I promised that it would not be another year before the next update. I wanted, so badly, for that to be true. In hindsight, it’s honestly better that I failed to keep that promise; I fear it might have exacerbated the damage that’s already been done, and made the healing process that much harder.

It’s been nearly two years. I want to talk about what happened.

I first began to write about Yuuri Katsuki and Victor Nikiforov because I recognized myself so keenly in them; Yuuri’s high-achieving anxiety and imposter syndrome, and Victor’s quietly functional depression. When I found YOI, I was in grad school; I was winning awards, the top of my class, and utterly terrified that it was all a sham. Being able to channel those emotions through these characters helped me realize my own greatness, to embody it and walk with confidence and bravado. It allowed me to go into my post-degree job search with my head held high, trusting that all the lessons I had learned would lead me to professional success. Yuuri and Victor walked through life with me, two shadows of my own psyche, two people who helped me understand myself.

The first few months of the job were fine. Then things became less than fine, and then continued to descend into the kind of mundane nightmare that only multinational corporate legal firms could manifest. Setting Sun, a story about love and self-acceptance and joy, began to twist around in on itself. I don’t want to go into detail, but suffice to say that I spent nearly two years being gaslit and abused, told I was worthless, constantly having panic attacks as I desperately tried to exert control over things that were way over my head. My body betrayed me; I was in so much pain I couldn’t walk, so stressed I couldn’t bring myself to eat unless I’d smoked weed to calm the nausea. I began to believe that I had peaked in grad school, that I was fooling myself, that I was going to be trapped in that cubicle for the rest of my life, doing grunt work without challenge or interest, in the kind of workplace where you get reported to HR for sighing too loudly. That is a thing that actually fucking happened to me; nobody asked why I might be sighing, and nobody stopped by to check in when I spent most days in tears. This was a place where less than half the people in the room put up their hands when asked if they had ever been creative as kids. This was a place where I almost never got to see the sun.

Because I was massively overqualified and even more massively underworked, I spent a lot of 2018 writing fanfic--my zine pieces, my zutara pieces, all sorts of creative things. I also began to write horror AUs; two stories, in particular, gained a fair amount of traction on this particular platform. When I look back now, I see them for the coping mechanisms that they were; in the case of the crossroads AU, where Yuuri is willing to sell his soul to the devil just to escape his commute, it wasn’t even particularly subtle. I poured all my energy into creative pursuits; it’s been my outlet my whole life, and for a while it helped. By the time I hit the SCP-9874 AU, I burned out so profoundly and utterly that it destroyed my relationship to YOI and cauterized the pieces. SCP-9874 was one of the most creative things I’ve ever done, but it also involved what is, in hindsight, a shocking level of violence and horror inflicted on these characters who were such a close part of me. I was doing this to them because I was hurting, all the time. I now recognize it as the cry for help that it was, and to this day I fantasize about taking down all the SCP-9874 posts and excising that portion of my legacy as much as possible.

I wrote Setting Sun’s 21st chapter in honour of my 30th birthday, in late January of 2019. Somehow, at the time, I didn’t realize how rough it was. How much it implied about me and how I was doing. How much it reflected the true extent of the damage I was suffering. I left Victor and Yuuri in an abandoned apartment with more questions than answers and more regrets than they or I had ever thought possible, and I thought, somehow, that this was a good turning point. Little did I know at the time that the worst was still to come.

I was able to finally escape that toxic office last October, when I found a new job that paid nearly double and was everything I wanted to do in life and more. But  Yuri on Ice hurt too much to think about, even as time marched forward and I began to heal. I had PTSD flashbacks to the old office; I dealt with echo upon echo of terror that everything would fall away to reveal I was trapped in the same old nightmare again. In January 2020, I actually took a few days off for my birthday and reread Setting Sun from the beginning, and I’d somehow forgotten how funny it is, how sweet it is, how hopeful. I had completely forgotten; it had been burned away by twenty months of agony. That realization hurt more than all the other ones put together, I think. I had a good long cry over that.

Fast forward to now, and people have started to find Setting Sun again. They’ve found it on and off in the months since I updated, and for a very long time I would read the truly lovely comments people wrote--thanking me for writing it, hoping I’d come back someday, wishing me well wherever I was--and I would dissolve into tears because I just...couldn’t. I couldn’t bear to go back to this story that I could no longer recognize myself in. And nowadays, when new commenters come, I will warn them about that last chapter I wrote, because I can recognize it as the outlier it is.

But something has very recently changed.

I couldn’t necessarily tell you exactly what. Maybe it’s that I passed the one-year mark at my new job, and the last of the poison has finally been excised. Maybe it’s because I’m looking at all my writing with new eyes as I prepare to try doing this for a living. Maybe it’s because it’s 2020, and the rules aren’t really relevant anymore. I don’t know. But I can say that, two weekends ago, I opened Setting Sun, and realized that it didn’t seem impossible anymore. I realized that the boys had been through more than enough. We’ve been through more than enough. We deserve the happy ending I always planned to give them, going back four whole years when I first planned out this massive weird tale.

It’s been a very long time. It’s been exactly long enough.

I can’t promise exactly when the final chapter of Setting Sun will arrive. I’m walking back onto previously thin ice, and my footsteps are more than a little hesitant, so as not to cause any undue cracks. But I can remember the joy and humour and fun again; I can conceive of jokes and silliness and sweetness again. My playlist is filling up again, with songs of hope and love instead of anguish and sorrow. The Yuuri and Victor who sit inside my heart are skating; the music is carrying them, the wind is rushing past their ears, their feet feel light again and they want to jump and take flight and make beautiful things.

I have bookended this post with lyrics from a song that’s been on the maybe list for Setting Sun for nearly as long as Setting Sun has existed. It’s a song I love quite profoundly, a song that means a lot to me personally, but I could never manage to make it fit. It’s a song about running away to the big bright city, about being broken on the world’s wheel, and about realizing you just want to go home. It’s a song that’s ostensibly about the tragedy of this process, but right now I’m sitting at my desk, listening to the line I, I, I wanna go back, back, back, back, with grateful tears running down my face, and I’m realizing that it’s not part of Yuuri’s story, nor Victor’s; it’s part of mine. Home may never be the same as when you left, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t waiting for you with open arms.

So that’s what happened.

Put my body on a wagon And carry me off to the ocean Let me float on into the eastern sun Out where tomorrow has just begun Where I used to be wild, back in my time Now I just fight to sleep at night So render me up into the elements Lay me in a light that I can trust Lay me in a light that I can trust Lay me in a light that I come from...

(Gold Teeth, by Hey Rosetta!)

[oh-theatre]

Consistent

A/n: HI HEY I WROTE FOR THE INTRUALITY BFFS AU I HOPE YOU ENJOY! Uh basically just a few things from across the au, its probs confusing so ask me questions :DD and ill answer. But ye! Let me know if you want more okay BYE IM SORRY ITS BAD ENJOY

Words: 1860

Warnings: Swearing, kissing, therapy mention

Pairings: Logicality, Demus, possible prinxiety

Summary: Just some moments from across the Intruality bffs au!

“Elevate a little higher!” Remus sings, Patton chuckles but nudges him to quiet as weird looks glance their way. Apologizing with his eyes he continues working away, Remus whispers next to him, bobbing his head to the music. “Throw a party in the-” 

“Could you not?” A voice from across the room begs, a smirk hidden by a bite from Remus. Pattons blush quickly appears as he pops his head out from behind his friend. “Oh! Patton” Logan notices, both sharing a rosy tint to their cheeks.

“Just get married” Remus mumbles, pretending to focus on his math. Patton coughs, turning back to his computer, Logan scratches the back of his neck, patting away the sweat with his handkerchief. Roman bites back his own laugh but says nothing. “Play ‘Frozen two’, I wanna listen!” Remus pleads, a sweet affection as his eyes push forward.

“Its your phone and airpods?” Patton hands him the device, a giddy shuffle as Remus starts the playlist. Both instantly feel more triumphant as they continue their work. “Show yourself!” They sing together, fits of laughter as they dance. Logan once more goes to shush the pair but finds himself endeared with the boy. They had come to expect these antics, when all six had been put into the same study hall they knew chaos would ensue. Dee looked on, watching Remus butcher every last note as his own music blasted in his ears. 

“Hey, broadway!” Virgil lashes, Remus turns, an innocent perk to his ears. “Maybe shut up so Dee and I can focus?” He spits, Remus obliges but only after he sticks out his tongue. Winking slyly at Dee, the more quiet. “God, hes worse than his brother” Virgil mutters, erasing roughly at the problem he had failed to do. 

“Its fun V” Dee admits, his own foot matching the rhythm of his music. “Plus lets be honest, its Friday, no one is actually working” He continues his silly doodles across his homework, knowing he can finish it in two minutes. Virgil huffs but keeps quiet, the distraction too much. 

“Be right back” Patton whispers, taking his laptop towards where Logan and Roman sit discussing their psychology classwork. “Can i?” He wonders, Logan hiding his excitement nods. “I had a quick question about our recipe?” Patton sits, Logan listens. “I was wondering if you wanted to tak-” He pauses as the music in his ear shifts. 

‘I just had sex!’ Rings out loud, Patton's eyes grow wide quickly turning to Remus. His idle face as he conceals his giggles looking at his work. Logan tilts his head but Patton simply removes the device, recovering from his fright.

“Your question?” Logan repeats, Roman mimics his brother with his own dancing. 

“I was thinking we could maybe take it a step further?” Patton proposes, knowing how anxious Logan was about his culinary abilities. “A pastry tree, we start with bigger ones on the bottom and slowly work our way up! So we can experiment and give the judges different options” He finishes, the sweetest of smiles.  Logan wants to argue, find a problem but his plan worked and worked well for their grades. 

“We can try” He decides, a quick grin and Patton leaves once more. Silent punishment to Remus when he returns to his seat. The class continues and ends fast, they all part to lunch, gathering in their separate areas.  

~~~

“You good lego?” Roman asks as he unpacks their chairs from the locker, Logan snaps back from his distant stares into the bleak plaster. He nods taking his seat, his eyes setting upon a very hyper Remus and Patton as they prepare for their meal. “Hey Virge” Roman greets, Virgil and Dee join them, a quadrant of four chairs forms. As usual…

“What's up with nerd central?” Virgil asks, snapping in front Logans face. He shakes his head returning once more. Virgil follows his gaze however, biting back a knowing smile, Patton already sunk into his book as Remus lays his feet across the boys lap. “Ya know, I heard that they were dating” He puts out, Logan snaps his eyes, fear ridden.

“Hah! Please, Remus and Pat?” Roman laughs, sitting down with a shake. “Thats hilarious, Remus and Patton are best friends and anyway Remus has a huge crush on Dee” He adds, munching into his sandwich. Dee rolls his eyes, a soft kick to Romans knee. 

“I know, just wanted to see what glasses over here would say” Virgil teases

“I assure you, I could care less about Pattons romantic status” Logan adjusts his glasses, sitting neatly eating his food. Virgil and Dee share a glance but leave it be. “We should invite them to sit with us, they are our friends” He offers, no qualms could be made. They did consider the pair friends...so what was the problem? 

“Sup losers” Ethan kicks his chair into the circle, forcing his way between Roman and Dee. 

Ah right…

Ethan

~~~

“Easy Remus!” Patton urges watching his friend balance atop the table trying to hang the valentines decorations. The door opens, Logan accompanied by Roman, Dee and Virgil strut in. “Remus get down” Patton asks, Roman chuckles, a sweet squeeze to Patton as the group passes them. “Tell your brother hes being an unsafe” 

“Just say idiot” Roman corrects, Pattons expression changes as does Remus’s. He removes himself from the table, returning to his spot behind the desk in the library. Roman sighs, dragged away by Virgil. Patton sits next to his friend, softly kicking his friends chair.

“You're not an idiot” He assures, Remus nods, burying his head in his arms. “Ro’s your brother, its his job to make fun of you” Patton comments, Remus huffs wishing the insults wouldn't go so far. “Come on rum-rum” He hums, Remus giggles, frustrated with his resilience. “Come help me please and then we can go home, watch a movie, make snacks, build a fort” He says, laying his arms and head on Remus’s back. The idea sounds wonderful, but hes not sure hes up to it...just yet. “Oh and dont forget we have therapy today” Patton reminds, Remus groans. He knows its helpful and he gets to do it with his best friend but the idea terrifies him. “I know you dont want to...but its going to help” Patton encourages

“Fine, on one condition” Remus decides, annoyed with his friends walking eggshells around each other. Patton faces him, furrowing his brows in question. “You have to go up to Logan right now, kiss him and then ask him to be your valentine” Remus dares, Patton squeaks almost knocking over the books behind him. 

“What!” Patton exclaims “You cant be serious! Youre not actually leveraging therapy over my valentines right now” 

“Do it or you'll be flying solo” Remus leans forward, Pattons breath seizes as he swallows looking towards the said target. “Hmm” He sighs, wistfully looking away. Patton shuts his eyes tight but snaps.

“Fine” He barely whispers, Remus cheers pinning delighted in his chair. 

“Have fun!” Remus grins watching Patton walk away, so much hesitance to him. Patton wrings his hands as he approaches the group, Logan spots him a formal smile to the boy. He stands to meet Patton halfway, Patton takes a deep breath. 

“Pat-” No time, he takes Logans tie, only tugging softly as he pulls the boy into a kiss. The absolute silence that falls over the room save for Remus’s disbelief, is frozen. Pattons heart pounds until suddenly Logans melting right into the kiss. 

And its perfect, its absolutely everything Patton had dreamed of

He pulls away in a frantic panic, forgetting what he was doing. Logan clears his throat, dusting himself off. Neither dared to move or speak, they simply stared in delighted confusion.

“Will you be my valentines?” Patton remembers the deal, Remus pounds hard on the desk through his exasperated laughter. “Im so sorry” He rushes, ready to turn away in his shame, feeling a soft hand take his. “Im sorry im not thinking straight” Pattons fear drips out of him, feeling the world grow silent with the simple pound of his breath.

“Ever! He's not straight!” Remus calls out, shushed by Dee. 

“I would love to be your valentine” Logan replies, a soft tone just for them. Roman and Dee erupt into cheers, Virgil nods satisfied as Remus waste no time running into his friend. Embracing the petrified boy, Patton still believes he's dreaming as Remus hugs him. “And you don't have to make a deal, I would have done it regardless” Logan adds, Remus falls to the floor much to happy.

“You told him!” Patton cries, Remus can barely nod. 

“He just texted me” Logan shows, Patton's face surely matched that of a tomato. “I'm glad however, it was taking too long” Logans coy expression only set Patton's heart a flutter.

“Motherfucker!” Remus stands, taking Patton from behind, the teens feeling safe in one anothers hold. 

“Yes good point” Patton murmurs, Logan chuckles. One more quick peck to Pattons cheek before he returns to his friends. “I'm gonna faint”

“Do it coward, you wont” Remus dares, still nuzzling into Patton's shoulder. Patton locks eyes with Dee, tuning out the silly teases from Remus. 

“Dee would you like to be Remus’s valentine?” Patton inquires, Remus falls silent. “Sucks to suck” He jokes, patting Remus as he returns to his position. Dee stands, ignoring the eyes that now watch him. Remus stutters failing to connect a coherent sentence. A hushed conversation and the pair meet in the hallway. Returning moments later, now words spoken but their interlaced fingers said enough. 

Suffice to say, Patton and Remus had a very good first session.

~~~

“One cold brew for you” Remus presents as Patton approaches the locker, Logan accompanying him in the early morning. He takes it, the most grateful look upon his face, Logan yawns. “Goodest of the morns Logan” Remus smiles, Logan nods through his exhaustion

“Coffee starlight?” Patton offers, Logan moans in happiness taking the caffeinated drink. Remus laughs sitting comfortably in his chair, kicking Patton in a rhythm. The boy doesnt mind, hes used to the fidgets and it didnt hurt. 

“Pickles did you do the homework?” Remus questions scrolling through his computer, Patton sets up his chair, taking his coffee from Logan. He gestures towards his own locker, Patton nods a quick kiss goodbye.

“Gonna have to be specific” Patton says, allowing Remus to lay his feet across him. Remus shows his computer screen, Patton checks the work and nods. “You got it” He assures, Remus fist pumps, shutting it happily.  “Wheres Dee?” Patton wonders, going over his schedule for the day. 

“He had an early test so I dropped him off, but we’re having dinner later for valentines” He smiles, Patton smirks. “Happy one year by the way” Remus celebrates

“You too” They cheer their drinks, falling casually into their conversation. The pair joke and laugh through excitement for the day, cheer and the musical. Everything felt right...for now. I mean it was senior year who knows what might happen.

At Least this, was solid and consistent.

Them

Their friendship

[i-call-me-clarence]

So @ao3commentoftheday suggested people make rec lists during these trying times and I decided to go ahead and jump on the band wagon. Here is a list of 13 Johnlock fics, sorted from shortest to longest. There’s H/C, PWP, Case Fics, PRETEND RELATIONSHIPS, and some pretty dank AU’s. 

Okay then, onto the tropes!

(fics listed below)

Caught by Salambo06 (AO3) ( @salambo06fics)

Author’s Summary: A hotel room. They’re here for a case, hadn’t planned to spend the night and ended up sharing a room. No, sharing a bed. Suddenly John is very much aware of his own hand closed around his hard cock and the ragged breathing next to him. Closing his eyes for the briefest second, John dares to turn his head just enough to confirm what he already knows.

Sherlock, on his side, watching him.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1,859

Tags/Warnings: bed sharing, wet dreams, POV John, Masturbation, Frottage, First Time, First Kiss

A PWP that’s scorching hot. ‘Nough said. (BUTOMG it is REALLY hot, beware reading in public yo)

----

Paranoia by Ewebie (AO3) ( @ewebie​)

Author’s Summary: is a description of the rules of the drinking game Paranoia and also too long to put here! But suffice it to say that this fic involves drinking games at the Yard.

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3,789

Tags/Warnings: Tumblr Prompt, Drinking Games, Silly... no smut but building fun and allusions to upcoming rrrwarr

I love fics where the team at the Yard and the boys all get drunk together. Throw in a drinking game and I’m already hooked. This fic was really funny and cheered me up when I was sick with the flu a while back (perfect time to read it again!)

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Coldness/Heat by agirlsname (AO3) ( @agrlsname)

Author’s Summary: The inn is booked up on New Year's Eve. The train home is cancelled because of the snow. The only option is to sleep in the non-heated guest room of a client, and John and Sherlock are freezing.

You know where this is going.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3,790

Tags/Warnings: Fluff and Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Bedsharing, Sharing Body Heat, Frottage New Year's Eve, Cuddling & Snuggling, Friends to Lovers

THERE IS ONLY ONE BED! AND THEY ARE SO COLD! WHATEVER ARE OUR BOYS TO DO?!?!?! Turn it up to 11 in this amazing PWP, that’s what.

---- Stranded by BeautifulFiction (AO3) ( @the-pen-pot ) 

Author’s Summary: ‘Do you think we’re less than that – best friends? Or more?’

John’s head pulled back, and the look he received suggested John was seriously wondering how someone so intelligent could be so stupid. ‘Well, definitely not less.’

 When stranded on a derelict barge at high tide, John and Sherlock reconsider their friendship.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 5,798

Tags/Warnings: case fic, cuddling for warmth, first kiss

I really liked this fic. It really drew me in with it’s imagery, I could see the scenes as easily as I could see John and Sherlock getting together in this way.

----

Azure On Grey by shiplocks_of_love (AO3) ( @shiplocks-of-love )

Author’s Summary: When Sherlock’s transport betrays him and conventional healthcare fails to help, John comes up with an unorthodox solution…

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 8,986

Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Medical issues, Kidney Stones, Embarrassing Situations, brief mention of past substance abuse, unorthodox medical treatments, Amusement Parks, Intimacy, hints of romance, Pining John, friends to almost lovers

This fic is a wonderful H/C that features a sick Sherlock who can be exceptionally fragile at times, and a caring Watson. Makes me wish I’d had a John around when I had kidney stones :’(

---- Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder by cypress_tree (AO3) ( @cypress-tree​)

Author’s Summary: John helps Sherlock with an experiment: for an entire month, they are not allowed to touch each other and must remain at least one metre apart at all times. Meanwhile, I conduct my own experiment: how much UST can I shove into a single fic?

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 10,669

Tags/Warnings: Unresolved Sexual Tension, it's for an experiment John, Resolved Sexual Tension, smut

Sexy, silly, amazing.

---- Chaperones by MissDavis (AO3) ( @missdaviswrites​)

Author’s Summary: Right. Of course. Everyone assumed they were a couple and no one would question it. John put his elbows up on the table so he could rest his head in his hands. "You want to pretend to be a couple so we can chaperone a trip to Disney World with Rosie's class and you won't have to share a room with a stranger?"

"Exactly." Sherlock beamed at him. "Don't worry about the cost. The Birmingham case last month paid more than enough to cover expenses for all three of us."

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 34,115

Tags/Warnings: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Sharing a Room, Sharing a Bed. Disney World, Parentlock, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, First Kiss

I’ll just use what I wrote when I bookmarked this lovely fic: I’ve never been more compelled by Disney related things than when I was reading this fic. I’ll never go to Disney World, but I’ll sure as hell read this fic again omg was it good

----

The Darkness Within, So Close by shiplocks_of_love (AO3) ( @shiplocks-of-love​ ) ((I hope @ing you twice doesn’t cause any issues! Sorry in advance. Tumblr confuses me))

Author’s Summary: Alec Hardy and Ellie Miller deal with a new string of murders in Broadchurch. Help comes from an unlikely place as Sherlock Holmes and John Watson travel to West Dorset. But when the new crimes open old wounds and unearth the ghost of Moriarty, it becomes clear the game is not over yet.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 42,312

Tags/Warnings: casefic, Sherlock x Broadchurch crossover fic, Underage Death, Murder, MAJOR spoilers for Broadchurch S1 and S2 and for Sherlock S3, post S3 Sherlock, post S2 Broadchurch, you are MOST welcome to put johnlock glasses on but this is pre-slash okay?, Light Angst, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence

I haven’t actually finished this fic yet, but the characterizations for the characters of both universes are spot on. When Alec Hardy started shouting at the beginning, David Tennant appeared in my room and started reading the fic aloud to me. True story. Also this fic is part of a series, so, like, that’s amazing.

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The Norwood Love Builders by flawedamythyst (AO3) ( Tumblr: https://flawedamythyst.tumblr.com/) ((couldn’t @  you for some reason. Prob, again, because Tumblr makes my brain hurt))

Author’s Summary: Sherlock and John go undercover to solve the murder of Joanna Oldacre, but things are complicated by the many feelings John has been repressing in the wake of Sherlock's faked death and return.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 47,798

Tags/Warnings: case fic, fake/pretend relationship, couples retreat, bed sharing, therapy (for a case...that’s a weird tag but I read this in fic so often so), pining John, UST, First Kiss, getting together

Amazing fic by an amazing writer. I have a weakness for ‘pretend relationship for a case’, especially when it’s filled with pining and ust. So in other words this fic is perfect. 

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Bridging the Ravine by SilentAuror (AO3) ( @silentauroriamthereal​)

Author’s Summary: Sherlock and John go undercover at Ravine Valley, a therapy centre for same-sex male couples in an investigation into a possible human trafficking ring. As they pose as a couple and fake their way through the therapy sessions for the sake of the case, it quickly becomes difficult to avoid discussing their very real issues. Set roughly nine months after series 4.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 58,887

Tags/Warnings: post-series 4, Romance, Awkwardness galore, fake couple trope, Therapy, sex trafficking ring, First Times, Massages, wet t-shirt contest, Group Therapy, loss of child (past), Bed-sharing

Pretend relationship for a case, and it’s a really good case too! Plus it’s at a couples therapy retreat, I mean, come on!! And the OC’s, don’t even get me started on them, because I won’t be able to stop singing their praises. This fic was sent by the gods through the blood sweat and tears of the extremely talented SilentAuror. You should honestly just go and binge all of their stuff. What else are you gonna do during quarantine? OH! And guess what??? THERE’S A SEQUEL! 

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Sensory Science by sussexbound(SamanthaLenore) (AO3) ( @sussexbound​)

Author’s Summary: John Watson has been invalided home from Afghanistan and is struggling with anxiety, depression, PTSD and insomnia, when an old friend from med school recommends something that might help: An ASMR YouTube Channel run by a friend.

One session in and John is hooked, not only by the way the ASMR seems to calm him after nightmares, and help him sleep, but also by the mysterious man who runs it.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 80,017

Tags/Warnings: Friends to Lovers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, PTSD John, ASMR, first meeting AU, problem drinking, Nightmares, Suicidal Thoughts, Internalized Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Anxiety, Depression, Homophobic Language, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Prostate Massage, Prostate Orgasm, Phone Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Frottage, Coming Untouched, Aborted Blowjobs, Rimming

Amazing fic that really draws you in. Even if ASMR isn’t necessarily your thing, this is still a fantastic read. I mean, it’s by sussexbound, so what else would you expect?

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Rewind by All_I_Need (AO3) ( @the-reading-lemon​)

Author’s Summary: About a month before John's wedding, he and Sherlock embark on one last case together: a murder at a remote hotel in the middle of nowhere. A lot can happen in a week. And a lot doesn't. But what if ...?

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 87,594

Tags/Warnings: Pining, Angst, John is an oblivious idiot, all the feels, Rewind - Freeform, what if, Sharing a Bed, Dancing Lessons, literally everyone sees more than John does, Fake/Pretend Relationship

THIS FIC! This fic!! Let me tell you a thing about this fic: it’s amazing! I haven’t finished it completely, but the unique ‘rewind’ effect is something I hadn’t ever seen before. Interesting concept, pretend relationship for a case, hot, hot smut, AND THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED. What more could you want in a fic, honestly?

---- Out There by DiscordantWords (AO3) ( @discordantwords​)

Author’s Summary: FBI Special Agent John Watson, medical doctor and army veteran, is assigned to assist eccentric genius Sherlock Holmes with paranormal investigations on the X-Files project.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 131,695

Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - X-Files Fusion, Slow Burn, UST, No seriously a lot of UST, This is the X files they basically wrote the book on UST, casefic, Case Fic, Government Conspiracy, Aliens, UFOs, Mutants, Pining Sherlock, Pining John, First Kiss, Coma

The X-files/Sherlock crossover I always needed in my life. I think at least a few other Johnlockers out there (ha! Fic title) have watched X-files and thought ‘holy cow this is so John and Sherlock, I need the AU or else I’ll die’. Well look no further! No need to die! Read and watch as all your X-files/Sherlock wishes come true :D

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And that concludes this rec list! There will prob be a part 2 coming out as I’ve got hundreds of fics saved on this pairing. Also stay tuned for fic rec lists for some of my other fav ships! Spirk, Garashir, Hannigram, Bunny/Raffles, and more!!

[atths--twice]

Magic, Stars, and Desires

This is a story I wrote a couple of years ago. I wasn’t on Tumblr back then and so I am going to be posting older stories every so often. Hope you enjoy this one. This one takes place directly after The Amazing Maleeni. There is some time before their flight the next day and so they spend the day on a “date.” Fun, flirting, and perhaps a bit more are on the agenda for the evening. 

“No, seriously Scully,” Mulder said as they walked out of the police station into the morning sunshine. “How did you turn your arm around that way?”

She stopped at the car and smiled at him. She shook her head as the wind blew her hair in her face. Brushing her hair away, she raised her eyebrows.

“A magician never reveals her tricks, Mulder. Guess you’ll have to always wonder,” she said, shrugging her shoulders, a smile playing at her lips.

She opened the car door and got in, closing the door behind her. He got in a moment later, and looked at her before starting the car.

“You must be double jointed,” he said as he looked over his shoulder and pulled into traffic, then glancing at her again, waiting for her answer.

She smiled again and looked out the window, shrugging her shoulders. She looked at him and made an exaggerated show of zipping her lips, then tossing away the key.

“Oh, you’re not speaking? Okay. Then you don’t get to complain when I turn that Elvis cd on again,” he said, his fingers reaching to turn the cd on and turn the radio up.

“Mmmmm!!” she cried through her closed lips. She made a fist and shook it at him.

He responded by turning it up louder, snapping his fingers, and singing along loudly to “Devil in Disguise.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, making grumbling noises, telling him how she felt without words.

He started shaking his head back and forth, his lip curling up, fingers still snapping. She watched him as he drove with one hand on the wheel. She could not stop the smile from spreading across her face. When he noticed her watching him, he grinned.

She shook her head and looked out her window again. “Heartbreak Hotel” started next and she closed her eyes when he started to sing.

Four songs later, they pulled up at the FBI field office in Los Angeles. They turned over the wallet and the playing card preserved with Mulder’s fingerprints on it. They filled out some paperwork and then they left. As they walked to the car, Mulder turned to her.

“Our flight doesn’t leave until tomorrow. You wanna get some lunch? Maybe do something fun?”

She nodded as she opened the door to the field office. “I could eat. Oh, there’s a good place not far from here that makes great salads.”

“Salads?” he asked incredulously, stopping in his tracks. He shook his head. “No, Scully. We’re in California. We’re going to In-N-Out and getting shakes, fries, and burgers.”

She raised her eyebrows at him and he shook the car keys at her, wiggling his eyebrows back at her. She shook her head and closed her eyes.

Ten minutes later they were in line and twenty minutes later they were at an outside table eating their food. Mulder had more food than she could ever eat in one sitting. It always amazed her as she watched him eat, wondering where he put it all.

He had taken off his coat and tie. Her eyes traveled down his chest and his side that she could see sitting next to him. He shoved a bite in his mouth and she was distracted by his mouth as he chewed his food. She watched him lick his lips and she had to look away.

His lips had been on hers briefly, months ago and she was still thinking about it. They had not done anything since they had kissed on New Year’s Eve. Well, not exactly nothing. They had spent more downtime doing normal people things and it had been nice, but she wanted more. Or, she thought she did. Did he? It was so confusing.

“Your food okay?” he asked her and she turned her head to look at him.

“What?” she asked, watching him drinking his shake and wishing that bottom lip was on her instead of the straw. Anywhere on her would suffice.

“Your food. You’re not eating. Is it okay?” he said, gesturing to her food.

“Just because I don’t shove it down my gullet like you do..” she said, picking up her burger and taking a bite.

He laughed and they continued their meal in comfortable silence. He picked up their trash when they were finished and came back to their table, grabbing his shake.

“So, the world is our oyster, Scully. What pearls could we discover?” he asked, glancing at her.

She smiled and thought for a second. “Have you ever been to the Griffith Observatory?”

His eyes lit up as he drank the last of the shake and stood up. “Never. Let’s change that,” he said, tossing out his cup, taking the car keys out of his pocket, and opening the doors.

She smiled and followed him, her eyes straying down his body before she shook her head.

Get it together, Dana.

She got in the car and proceeded to give him directions to the Observatory. They arrived a short while later, parking relatively close as they were there in the middle of the day, in the middle of the week.

Mulder grinned at Scully as he walked up the steps and opened the door. He looked all around and could hardly contain his excitement. Scully asked for a guide map and she bumped Mulder on the arm, gesturing to the left. He grinned and followed her.

She made a stop at the bathroom and when she came out, he fairly yanked her forward. A tour group had just started and he wanted to catch up. She grinned at his enthusiasm.

He was having a great time, listening to everything the guide said, asking questions or offering his wisdom when he knew more on a subject. She had more fun watching him than looking at the stuff in the Observatory.

They went all around and looked at everything. They walked outside and Mulder stared across the way at the hills and the city below them. The Hollywood sign was to their right and he lamented that he did not have a camera to take her picture. She rolled her eyes and pushed him back toward the door.

The tour was over and now Mulder wanted to go back and look at everything on his own and take his time. She followed him as he would stand and stare at one thing for awhile or look quickly and keep moving.

He would explain things to her and tell her what he found most interesting, his hands flying all over the place in his excitement. She nodded along, knowing she would never know all the things he did about space and the planets.

It started to get dark and they made their way to the roof to look through the telescope. There was a line, but not too long. Mulder kept his eyes on the telescope and was quiet for the first time that day. She made a mental note to take him to more observatories if it created that quiet in him.

When it was finally their turn, he put his hand on her back and gently pushed her forward. She tried to hold back her smile. She knew how excited he was for his turn and yet he made sure she went first. For all the times he acted like an asshole, he was also extremely sweet and charming.

She looked into the telescope, not really sure what she was seeing, but enjoying the beauty of it. She stepped back and Mulder grinned from ear to ear. He stepped up to take his turn.

She took another step back and stumbled. Without even looking at her, he reached out his hand to her back and steadied her. She took a breath of surprise and thanked him quietly. He rubbed his fingers softly across her back and continued looking through the telescope.

She stepped away, his fingers making her tingle. She had to take a quiet breath in hopes he would not hear how his touch affected her. Her pulse was racing and all he did was graze her back. Through her clothes. Jesus, she needed to stop these teenager antics.

She walked around while he had his turn and then asked questions to the man by the telescope. The line had thinned down and he was one of the last to take a look. She wandered around and looked at the architecture of the room. It was really quite stunning.

She felt Mulder touch her back again and she turned toward him. He was still grinning, but his eyes searched hers, checking in with her. She smiled and he nodded. He turned toward the exit and she followed.

He looked all around again as they walked out. He glanced up at the sky and smiled. He walked over by the railings overlooking the hills once more. He turned his head and stared at the Hollywood sign, now lit up in the dark.

She reached the railing and stood next to him. He sighed and she looked at him. He looked at her and smiled. His eyes dropped to her lips and she felt her mouth go dry.

He turned his body toward her and his hand covered hers on the railing. Her heart pounded, knowing he was going to kiss her, she could feel it.

“This was a great idea, Scully,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I’m glad you suggested it.”

Covering the disappointment of not getting a kiss, she pulled her hand out from under his and grabbed the railing, looking at the sign again.

“Good. I’m glad,” she said, a little more coldly than she intended.

He nodded beside her, seemingly unaware she was upset or disappointed. She looked down and closed her eyes, chiding herself for her feelings and silliness. She pushed back and smiled at him.

“Should we get back to the hotel?” she asked.

He smiled and nodded. She turned and stepped forward, heading toward the car. He stepped next to her and to her surprise, he grabbed her hand and laced their fingers together. He did not say a word and neither did she, as they walked to the car. He did not let go until they arrived and before he did he squeezed quickly three times. She smiled with her eyes downcast.

They got in and drove back to the hotel, stopping for ice cream cones on the way. They ate them in the car and Mulder’s dripped down his arm as he tried to lick it fast enough. She laughed and then shivered at the thought of how sweet his mouth would taste with the memory of ice cream lingering on his lips.

They pulled into the hotel parking lot and got out of the car. He pocketed the keys and grinned. He started to head toward his room and she stopped walking.

Her heart was pounding with the knowledge that she wanted him. She wanted him to not head to his own room, but to come to hers. She wanted to taste that ice cream on his mouth and feel his lips on her body. His hand on her back earlier and his hand holding hers to the car, made her ache in her most private of areas. If that simple gesture made her feel that way, what would his hands feel like on her naked skin? She yearned to know, but knew it would be inappropriate for so many reasons.

He stopped walking and looked over at her.

“Scully, you okay?” he asked, concern in his eyes. He stepped closer and she felt her stomach flip. His eyes dropped to her lips again and the restraint it took to not grab his face and kiss him was amazing.

“Scully?” he asked softly and she took a step back.

God, she needed to get to her room before she attacked him.  

“I’m fine. Good night, Mulder,” she said turning away and walking briskly to her room.

She opened the door and looked back at him. He was still standing where she left him. His eyes bore into hers before he stepped toward his room, muttering a good night of his own.

She closed her door and leaned against it. God, it was getting harder every day to try and hide her feelings for him. Always wondering about his own towards her was taking its toll and making her crazy. She would be fine and then her hormones would rage and she wanted to shove her tongue in his mouth. She wanted to rip his shirt open and slide her nails down his chest, knowing the contours of it, but not the feel nor the taste.

She set her key down and went into the bathroom, but then walked out. She paced her room like a caged animal. A kiss, just one, would not be so bad. She could just walk to his room and say goodnight again and give him a quick kiss. They had a fun day, a goodnight kiss would not be out of the realm of extreme possibilities.

Fuck it, she thought, grabbing her room key and walking out the door. She quickly walked over to his door and then stopped. She raised her hand to knock and then brought it back down. Christ, why was this so hard? Why could she not have what she wanted? She shook her head and sighed.

“Did you lose your key?” a voice asked loudly.

She turned around and saw the manager standing there. She looked at Scully with raised eyebrows.

“Did you lose your key?” she asked again, more emphasis on the words this time.

“No. No.. I was just,” Scully started to say as Mulder’s door burst open and she turned toward him.

He looked surprised to find her and the manager standing there and Scully could not blame him.

“Everything okay?” he asked with a glance at the manager.

“She lost her key. You know that’s a charge I’ll have to add to your bill. Those keys are expensive,” the manager said in an irritated tone with a sigh.

“No, I didn't lose my key,” Scully said, turning and showing her the key she held in her hand, feeling the blush creeping up her neck.

“Good. Replacing them is a hassle,” the manager said and walked away.

Scully closed her eyes and wished the ground would swallow her up. How embarrassing. She turned back toward him, opened her eyes, finding Mulder staring at her.

“I was going to the vending machines. Thought I’d stop and see if you wanted anything,” she said in a rush.

He shook his head slowly and she nodded, turning to head toward the machines.

“Uh, Scully?” he said.

She turned around and looked at him. He was pointing to the left, toward her room.

“They’re that way,” he said with a smile.

Fuck.

“Yeah. I know. Just seeing if you wanted anything,” she said turning back again and attempted to get away. He hummed and said goodnight.

She waited until his door was shut before she bolted for her room. God, why? Why did it always have to be so difficult?

She threw her key down again and huffed as she started to take off her jacket. A bath would do her good. Some “Scully time” seemed to be in order tonight.

She tossed her jacket on the chair and started on her shirt when two quick knocks sounded at the door. Jesus Christ, if it was the manager asking about the key..

She opened the door and Mulder pushed his way inside, slamming the door behind him. With no warning, no words, he pulled her to him and kissed her, his lips landing hard on hers.

She gasped and he took advantage of her open mouth, sliding his tongue inside. She groaned and gripped his shirt. He stroked his tongue slowly along hers before coming back to kiss her lips.

She kissed him back and she felt lightheaded. His fingers dug into her back and she moved her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. She felt him, his hardness, against her and she moved her arms from his neck.

She pulled back from his kiss and stood in front of him, both of them breathing hard. She smoothed her hair down with shaking hands and took another step back. She looked down, her mind racing with what just happened.

His fingers reached out and lightly grasped her wrist, causing her to look up. He moved his hand to cup her cheek, stroking his thumb down to her jaw. She watched his eyes follow his thumb and then he looked in her eyes.

“Good night, Scully,” he whispered, with a hint of a smirk, and she knew he had not bought into her “do you want something from the vending machine” story. He knew what she was doing and he came to give her what she had failed to take herself.

He dropped his hand and smiled at her. She slowly smiled back, knowing she had been caught, but also reeling from his kiss.

They stood there staring at each other, before he stepped back and toward the door. It would be so easy to pull him back, take off his clothes, and give in to her desires. He was so close, all she had to do was say something.

“I’m double jointed,” she blurted out.

He turned around and looked at her quizzically.

“That’s how I could turn my arm like that earlier,” she said lamely, looking for an excuse to keep him in the room.

“Okaaaay. Good to know,” he said with a smile.

He reached for the door handle and opened the door. He shut it and turned toward her again. He stared at her, his gaze dropping to her lips, and her stomach dropped. He raised his eyes to hers and searched her face.

“Is that the only place you’re double jointed?” he asked quietly, staring hard into her eyes.

She smiled slowly at him and licked her lips. She saw him swallow and she did it again. He exhaled and she took pity on him.

She stepped closer to him and laid her hands softly on his chest. She could feel his heart racing and she smiled. His matched hers and she let her nails scrape lightly on the way to the buttons of his shirt. She bit her lip as she ran her fingers over the buttons, not opening them, but wanting to so badly. His chest rose and fell at a faster pace and he breathed her name.

She looked up and saw his eyes were closed and he was breathing through his nose. As her hands stilled, he opened his eyes and stared down at her. She slid her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, his ear against her mouth.

“I can’t reveal all my tricks at once,” she whispered, and his hands gripped her waist.

He pulled back fractionally and his mouth hovered over hers. His breath was warm and she could faintly smell the ice cream he had eaten. He was intoxicating her with his mouth, as he slowly ghosted his lips across hers.

Finally, she could not stand it and she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, his top lip landing on hers. She licked his lip, opened her mouth, and pushed her tongue inside.

He pulled her against him and he was harder than before. It seemed fair considering she was almost embarrassingly wet. His fingers pushing into her back, forced her forward and they crashed back into the door.

It broke the moment as it caused a jolt in them. They broke apart, but he kept his hands on her waist. He dropped his forehead to hers as they tried to catch their breath.

He lifted his head and stared at her. His eyes were dark and she felt as if she would drown in them. He straightened up and pushed her gently back from him. He looked at her and shook his head.

He turned and reached for the door handle again, opening the door and heading out. He turned again and she was watching him. His hair was tousled and his lips swollen. She fought off a grin and he shook his head again.

“Good night, Mulder,” she said with a smirk.

He exhaled and started to walk away, continuing to shake his head.

“Mulder?” she called to him.

He turned around and stared at her, his eyes traveling over her body.  

“It’s not the only place I’m double jointed,” she said quietly, her eyes holding his as he stood frozen.

His eyes widened and then seemed to roam all over her body, as if he was scanning her. His eyes like lasers trying to pinpoint the areas she was more bendy. He looked back at her eyes, swallowed and shook his head again. She smiled as she watched his brain struggle and felt there was no reason for him to know just yet, that she meant it was only in her toes and her left pinky.

She watched him walk to his door. Before he opened the door, he glanced back and really stared at her. He looked at her as if he was deciding on something. Weighing the scales and figuring things out. His expression, as he nodded at her and went into his room, left her puzzled.

His face had been unreadable. As if he made a decision but did not want her to know. She was confused but still her heart was racing. His kiss was still burning on her lips. The feeling of how his fingers had dug into her skin, left her body fairly humming.

She shut her door and leaned her forhead against it. Just minutes ago, his body had been there, her fingers at his buttons, and the temptation to open them had been overwhelming. She smiled and touched her lips as she pushed back from the door.

This dance they were in, she thought as she took off her shoes and undid her pants, gave her a thrill. They had been dancing around it for years. They had the steps down, knew all the moves, but right now it was different and she loved it.

Feeling his heart pounding because of her, his arousal pressed against her, knowing he saw her as desirable and had come to her tonight because they both wanted more, made her feel powerful. Her body was tingling with the knowledge that he desired her.

She took off her shirt, bra, and underwear and walked into the bathroom. She turned on the shower and looked at herself in the mirror. Her lips were swollen and she grinned. They matched each other. The kisses they shared had been frantic and rough, resulting in swollen lips. She shook her head and stepped into the shower, still smiling.

She let the water wash over her as she made a decision. No more would she push him away. No more would she deny what she wanted, what they wanted. She felt no need to rush it, she was enjoying this slow burn. If she could resist him and her feelings for seven years, she could go a little longer and see how this all panned out. Enjoy the dance and the burn it created within her.

She got out of the shower, dried off, and slipped into her pajamas. She got in bed with a smile on her face, again reliving his kiss. She wondered how he was faring in his room. She snorted with laughter and turned onto her side.

She was asleep within minutes, the day and the case tumbling around in her head. She dreamed of magic acts, heads spinning on plates, coins larger than her hand, tattoos, and wheelchairs. The best part of the dream seemed to slow down all the other scenes around her.

She was in a crowded room with a spotlight on her, wearing the same clothes she had worn when checking out Maleeni’s van. A top hat was suddenly placed on her head. She could feel it even in her dreams. Mulder pushed his way toward her and stared at her, the desire for her barely concealed in his eyes. They remained locked in their gaze, until he reached up and took off her hat. Doves flew out and around them as he pulled her to him and kissed her. She could taste his lips and she melted into his embrace.

He brought his mouth to her ear and whispered, “The Amazing Sculldini. You have put quite a spell on me. Show me more of your tricky ways.”

She smiled and then the doves and the crowd obscured her view. The spotlight went out and the last thing she saw before the dream shifted was her arms snaking around his neck and his lips moving to hers again.

She smiled and shifted in her sleep while Mulder, on the other side of the wall, at the exact same moment did the exact same thing.

The Amazing Sculldini indeed.

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

Hello again, I'm so sorry if I'm spamming you with too many Jaskier requests. But I was wondering if I could request a hurt comfort fic for Jaskier x poet! Reader, where she is angry crying because someone stole her poetry and turned it into a Ballad right under her nose, despite the fact she spent months writing it. And so it's up to Jaskier to find the bard responsible, and get her poem back to her. And maybe his plans go askew, and the two of them have to create a poem about their love

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Jaskier x Reader Word Count: 1,344 Rating: G Taglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak​ @whatevermonkey​ @mynamesoundslikesherlock​ @kemmastan​ @magic-multicolored-miracle​ @writingstudent​ @mlleecrivaine​ @coffee-and-stories​ @amirahiddleston​ @ultracolorfulnerdcollection​ @astouract​ @your-not-invisible-to-me​ @mycat-is-mylove  a/n: I hope you like it! And you don’t need to apologize! xo

You knew it was silly to cry, these things weren’t unheard of in the art world, but it stung and angered you that your words had been stolen so boldly. The troubadour didn’t even try and alter the words or mask their plagiarism, they just took it and set music to it and now they were earning coin that was rightfully yours but worse they were singing the words you’d written to confess your love to Jaskier. Your tears burned hot with anger as they dripped down your face and you could hear the voice of your university rivals in your ear, telling you that you’re too soft to be a poet, that it took a courage and a persistence and even a coldblooded nature you didn’t possess. You didn’t need to be cruel to succeed but your unwillingness to stoop to their level made you a target and you hated the injustice.

“Y/N?”

You swore softly and tried to wipe away the tears and hide all traces of your crying though you knew your face was puffy and red and Jaskier was no fool. Before long the bard was close enough to see you and he sat next to you, pale blue eyes filled with worry as he brushed a tear from your cheek.

“Y/N what’s happened?” he asked. You weren’t going to tell him, you were going to just fix it on your own as you’d been told a true artist did, but the concern in his eyes moved you and you found a fresh wave of tears falling down your face as you bit out the story. How you’d been working on a poem and finally completed it after a month of hard work and editing and going nearly mad. How you’d had it with you in the library and how sometime between when you packed up and went home it had been taken from your bag. You’d looked for it everywhere, heartsick that you’d been so careless, and then you’d heard of the new love song being performed and the lines quoted sounded familiar. You told him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders in a half hug how you had shown up to the performance and confronted the troubadour who simply charged you to prove that he had stolen it before leaving, his mocking laughter ringing in your ears.

By the time you were finished Jaskier looked as angry as you felt, if not angrier.

“I know these things happen,” you said, but he cut you off.

“No,” he protested, “This goes against everything artists are supposed to stand for. This isn’t collaboration, this is thievery, and he will be brought to justice.”

“Jaskier this is my fight,” you insisted. He shook his head and gently moved your chin so you faced him and your eyes met his.

“I am going to fix this,” he promised, “You don’t have to handle this alone.”

You could tell it was useless to fight him and you were reminded yet again why you loved him, and why you needed to get that poem back. You’d finally gotten the words right and you feared you’d never be able to do it again and if you couldn’t tell him just the way he deserved, what was the point?

The next night the pair of you went to the next performance. You were so distracted by how handsome Jaskier looked that you nearly forgot why you were there, until the performer took his place. The performance was being hosted by a local noble family, patrons of this bard, and everyone stood or sat in a circle before the lovely fireplace. It served as a backdrop that would have been cozy and romantic for someone else but as you looked at this man all you saw was hell fit for the devil he was. He performed a few songs first and then for his closer he announced he would be singing a new song. That was when Jaskier leapt into action.

“Those words have been stolen,” he cried, pointing accusatorily at the man who froze, eyes widening and then narrowing in disdain.

“This man is clearly insane,” he tried to scoff. But Jaskier was well-known and respected and he could see that the crowd was not immediately on his side, instead there was a ripple of confusion and a whisper of scandal.

“That poem you have purloined and set to music is the work of Y/N, a new poet who is still establishing herself in the community. Such an act displays cowardice, ignorance, and frankly betrays you for an ass and a poor musician,” Jaskier charged, practically hissing the words as he spoke. The man could see the crowd was being lost.

“You cannot prove this accusation!” he protested.

“Cornflower eyes of my lover brush against my face as tenderly as any petal could,” you began, reciting the lines from memory. You’d spent so long trying to decide how to describe those eyes that held you captive from the first time you’d met their gaze. They looked at you now as the crowd parted for you, waiting breathlessly for you to continue.

“Could any sight be sweeter than my beloved smiling, so beguiling do I find that face,” you continued. The ripples of uncertainty changed to a distinct murmur of censure as those who had heard the song before recognized the words. The troubadour was clearly trapped but he was a spiteful man and even Jaskier’s quick reflexes and your pleas didn’t move in time to stop him from taking the pages and thrusting them into the hearth. Jaskier tried to go after the poem but the pages were already curling and turning to ash and you pulled him away. Jaskier felt torn between the urge to throttle the man and the urge to stay by your side as he saw tears enter your eyes and thankfully for him the choice was made when the troubadour was ushered out and dismissed by the master of the house.

Jaskier escorted you away from the crowd, knowing that you wanted to be somewhere quiet despite how well-meaning and empathetic the people were, and you soon found yourself sitting in a balcony.

“Do you remember it?” he asked hopefully, “Enough to transcribe it?”

“No,” you replied woefully, shaking your head and looking up at him with the saddest eyes he’d ever seen, so sad he felt the pain in them and tears rose to his own, “I only remembered the part I recited.”

He took your hand and held it tight, letting silence fill the space where words would never suffice.

“It will be alright,” you said aloud, more to yourself than him.

“Yes,” he said, “We can always write another.”

“We?”

“Well, I mean, you don’t have to of course… But I thought we may collaborate on one,” he said.

“Jaskier… the poem I wrote was… very specific and special and had a very singular purpose,” you replied, eyes askance and unable to look into his, which were more ocean than cornflower in the moonlight.

“The poem I intended to write, have been working on writing for some time, has a purpose that is similarly singular. I had been thinking of asking for your help in any case but after hearing the excerpt, well, I am more convinced than ever that I need your voice for it to be perfect,” he insisted, his voice a near whisper as he leaned closer to you.

“What would this poem be about?” you asked, a strange twisting sensation in your stomach as he lifted your face up towards his once more.

“It is a love story,” he answered, a soft smile playing about his lips, “About a bard and a poet who, for all of their mastery of words, struggled hard to find a way to confess their love for each other.”

Your heart hammered in your chest and you gripped his hand tightly, the tear that fell down your cheek the first happy one you’d shed in some time.

[prettylittlelyres]

2020: My Year in Reading

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I also re-read “Midnight” by Jacqueline Wilson, which was even better than I remembered. My sister and I have been re-reading a lot of Jacqueline Wilson’s books recently, and, in doing so, have found that all our hang-ups about them were actually… just a bit twitty. They’re great stories, they keep you turning the pages, and the pure sass of some of the characters just goes right through the roof. “Midnight” however, is a story I’ve always loved – no silly hang-ups could ever touch it – in part, I guess, because Violet just feels so Sapphic-coded, and also because she had a room full of fairy dolls that she’d made out of love for her favourite series of books, “The Flower Fairies” (sadly fictional, but I would quite frankly die of happiness if Jacqueline Wilson wrote and published even one as a novelty!). That might seem an odd reason to love a book, but, when I was at primary school, I was obsessed with the “Rainbow Magic” books by Daisy Meadows (by several ghost-writers, actually, but I digress) when I first read it, and had my very own “India the Moonstone Fairy” doll, which my mother had helped me to sew! As far as I was concerned, I was Violet, minus the horrid (misunderstood) big brother, and plus a lovely (the best, actually) big sister. Didn’t hurt that I was a baby gay, either, and that I had a close friend who played dolls with me (and with whom I might have been a bit in love). I’m seriously considering writing to Jacqueline Wilson to tell her how much I adore “Midnight”, even at 22. (I’m just not sure how to do that without coming across as a sycophant.)

Somehow, I’d managed to forget how heart-breaking “Vicky Angel” and “My Sister Jodie” were (also Jacqueline Wilson), but re-reading them at the beginning of December brought all the Big Tears flooding back. I managed not to cry outwardly, but these books hit me hard! I loved the Gothic atmosphere of “My Sister Jodie”, though – it was quite a bit like “Midnight” – and all the references it had to “The Secret Garden” by Frances Hodgson Burnett (which I need to read, actually; I’ve only ever read the Ladybird version). The descriptions of Melchester College as the family sees it for the first time, and then looks around their living quarters, are great, such a strong contrast between this beautiful vista and the drab dreariness of life-behind-the-scenes.

I took December to make my way through my small (but growing!) library of writer’s craft books, with “Writing Deep Point of View” and “Fiction Pacing” by Rayne Hall, and “Writing Your Story’s Theme” passing a few hours on a rainy afternoon by reinforcing all I learned at A’ Level and teaching even more, and “Ghost Stories and How to Write Them” by Kathleen McGurl giving me a much clearer idea of how to craft something spooky, as well as how to market it. I don’t really write many short stories, but that’s something I want to change, so I thought it would be a good idea to start with some craft revision! Further to wanting to write more spooky stories, I also took December to finish “The Turn of the Screw” by Henry James (more popularly known since the brilliant Netflix series as “The Haunting of Bly Manor”!), and the novel we were set in our French class, “Et si c’était vrai” by Marc Levy (the basis for the film “Just Like Heaven”, which I adore).

I’ve been trying to get into more subgenres of Alternate History and Fantasy, as I’m really enjoying “Kushiel’s Dart” by Jacqueline Carey, but I’m painfully aware that it’s Eurocentric in the extreme. I’m so glad I made an effort to push my reading horizons further this year, because I loved reading “Daughters of Nri” by Reni K. Amayo, and I’m looking forward to reading “Children of Blood and Bone” and its sequels by Tomi Adeyemi. I tried to read the first one two years ago, but my brain was mashed potato at the time, and I couldn’t concentrate on it at all. I’m doing much better now, so it’s on my reading list for 2021!

I also finally read “Alone: A Love Story” by Michelle Parise, which is the novel-version of a podcast with the same name. It helped me through a horrible time a few years ago and is just so beautifully written that – despite it being attached to some nasty memories – I really love it, and still listen to it to go to sleep. Obviously, I knew exactly what was going to happen, because it follows the same “storyline” as the podcast, but the book is just as excellent. They are both the author’s memoir, focussing on how she’s learned to enjoy living alone, being single, and carving out an independent life for herself. Suffice to say, it was the first step on my ladder to “feeling OK”. Steps 2, 3, 4… 10, 15… 86, etc. were spontaneous day trips to Winchester, where I would proceed to hole up in a coffee shop with a ball of yarn and a crochet hook, sipping tea while I worked, and tried not to think about what was making me sad. Those steps were not as good as the first one, and if I’m going to recommend you pick just one, I’d say, “Pick Step 1, and read or listen to “Alone: A Love Story” by Michelle Parise.”

For far too long, I’ve had “On Beauty” by Zadie Smith, and “The Returnees” by Elizabeth Okoh on my Kindle app (I don’t like Amazon, so I’m looking for alternatives!), and hadn’t read either one of them through to the end. I’d picked them both up on occasion, but only on short bus journeys, or while I was passing time, waiting for tea to cool; it made it hard to get into them, but I decided I’d sit down and read them both from the beginning, and not stop until I reached the end, and they’re both fabulous. I love Elizabeth Okoh’s painting of life in Nigeria, and as a British-Nigerian, and Zadie Smith’s lavish descriptions of everything are just wonderful. I can’t wait to see what Elizabeth Okoh does next (“The Returnees” is her debut novel), and I’m looking for my next read from Zadie Smith.

More speculative fiction finished off my reading in December! “Gone” by Michael Grant is perfect for fans of “The Society” (Netflix – please renew it! I would so love to see further seasons!), and “Q” by Christina Dalcher was deeply upsetting, but a gripping read. At last, I also finished “The Left/Right Game” from the r/NoSleep subreddit. I stayed up late, late, late, and then woke up early, early, early, to read the last chapters, on the morning of New Year’s Eve.

So, there you have it; a condensed overview of books I read in 2020. Condensed? Yes! Condensed quite a bit! This article is over 6,000 words long as it is, so I think I shall split it up into several posts, and queue them to be published, one per day.

I hope that I’ve helped you find something to read, or that I’ve reminded you of a favourite book you now want to re-read! Happy New Year to everyone, and may 2021 be much better!