#also oooOH LOOK AO3 LINK

[seasonal-writes]

“19% touch-starved and 81% in denial” (this one’s a little longer, so here’s the ao3 link for those who want it!) pairing: Jimmy / Tango cw: none! p.s. i wrote this back in like.. July, or so. when i didn’t really know what i was doing. but it’s one of my favorites, so i wanted to post it! enjoy. <3

Their home is almost done. Jimmy sits at the edge of the bed. He’s a little smiley, full of excitement from what they’ve accomplished, even with the sleepiness and soreness from the day kicking in. He closely watches Tango pitter about, tucking things into place and tossing stuff into the chests. He hasn’t noticed Jimmy’s staring, thankfully. Tango even seems to be happy, too. Or maybe just content, which are both good options. Heck, he’d even take plain ol’ toleration of their pairing, as long as he wasn’t completely unhappy. All Jimmy can think about is how much he likes his odds, though. A partner who, even after being taken down with him in his first death, has been so gung ho about it all. He hasn’t heard one peep about how funny or sad it is that Jimmy was the first to go, his alleged “curse” taking hold. If anything, all he remembers is Tango apologizing earlier that day in the forest. Tango apologizing. No laughter or mocking or dread. It gives Jimmy hope. He runs over the events of the day. A death, a happy coming-together, the sounds of building and the newly-raised home they’ll call their own. The little wheat farm that will keep them and the cows fed (hopefully) pops into his head too, as he makes a mental note to check for any successful sprouts in the morning. A ping of guilt hits him as he remembers the bucket from BDubs, which can be seen in a glint of silver within the chests as they’re opened and closed. He didn’t tell Tango where he got it, or more importantly, that they now share an IOU. Jimmy might’ve made the deal, but when your life is literally hooked to someone else, it ties them in. It makes concern bubble up for what will be owed down the line. Protection during battle when it inevitably arrives? Trade of important resources? For a bucket? Well, it was Bdubs. You never know what to expect from him. But he'd be so angry, Jimmy thinks. Tango would have a cow if BDubs just showed up one day and took up their deal, discovering that Jimmy made it without even asking or discussing it. He’s heard the tales of betrayal-induced rage through whispers and rumors. Jimmy knows of the flames and the fury deep within his partner. He doesn’t want to set that off—who would? Soiling such a perfect, already solid connection that feels so innocent in times like these. His stomach knots at the idea, and he finds himself taking a deep breath to keep the nerves down. “Y’know, I’m really proud of this.” Jimmy suddenly hears. He lifts his head quickly, almost as if he’s been caught staring off into space, to see Tango standing right in the middle of the room. His arms are proudly crossed, and he has a smile splayed across his face as he glances around. Jimmy takes point and does the same, looking at their little home. Dimly lit, basically windowless, but cozy. Two chests plopped hastily in the corner of the room, containing minimal resources and food. The single bed that holds him tucked into the corner, and a soft hum of moo-ing cows as a trophy in the next room. Jimmy goes to speak, but is interrupted before he can get the words out. “And I’m proud of you, too,” Tango adds, turning to Jimmy with that same bright smile, “You’ve done a lot for us today!” Jimmy looks at him for a second and lets out a—well, he can’t decide if it’s a clearing of his throat or a sheepish chuckle. It’s a mixture of both. He looks away from Tango’s gaze and nods. There is still a bit of residual guilt after thinking about his little deal with Bdubs. He wasn’t expecting him to say anything like that. “Well, I couldn’t do it by myself. Not without you,” Jimmy says, staring down at his legs as he kicks them a bit. “Oh stop; we’re the best team in this place because of you!” Jimmy’s heart flutters in his chest. He clenches his fists, not out of anger, but out of being well on his way to being overwhelmed already. Two nice compliments in, and he can barely handle it. He just smiles, though he hasn’t looked back up to Tango. “Well.. I mean.. that’s not true. You’re amazing, too. You built the house, so we’re safe tonight. I just helped out,” Jimmy says, trying his darndest to hit him with something just as nice. “Is this a compliment competition now?” Tango asks, walking over and taking a seat next to Jimmy on the edge of the bed. The heat radiates off of Tango in the close proximity, which is kinda nice against the nightfall chill setting in. It’s reassuring too, knowing they’ll never be cold and hungry. Maybe just hungry, if the rest of the server decides they’re easy pickin’s. Jimmy basks in the heat for a moment, instinctively wanting to get closer. Though, this is interrupted by Tango leaning forward and getting inches away from his face. Jimmy can’t help but bend back a little, with what he’s sure are wide eyes. “Because I’ll win.” Tango grins, reaching over and poking Jimmy’s nose. Jimmy opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He’s not used to.. this close. Tango chuckles a bit and retreats, putting his hand up and playfully ruffling Jimmy’s hair, still looking over at him. Jimmy lets out a breath to keep cool, as much as one can when you’re next to a wildfire of a man. He often struggles to admit that he doesn’t respond as easily to compliments and affection, usually keeping it to himself until he’s forced to reveal it. But.. Tango’s hand in his hair sends all the fuzzy feelings everywhere and..oh boy. The urges to either lean into his touch or run away from it are having a fist fight inside his head. He’s not sure who’s winning. “Just accept it, Jimmy. You’ve done well today. We’ve both done well, obviously, because we’re the best soulmates. But we wouldn’t be where we are without you,” he adds, moving his hand down to his shoulder and pulling him into his side slightly. Jimmy doesn’t really resist, but he does go stiff. Finally, he feels like he can speak. “Aha.. alright, alright. Well.. thanks. But I really don’t think it’s-” “Do you even know how to take a compliment?” Tango cuts him off, chuckling. “Of course I do!” Jimmy says, maybe a little too fast. Tango doesn’t respond right away, and Jimmy can only feel the movement next to him as his eyes find the floor once again. He jumps slightly when a hand lightly scoops the side of his face, pulling it to the side. Gently, but clearly without the intent of letting him get away, Tango makes Jimmy look at him. He’s fully up on the bed now, his knees pressing into the side of Jimmy’s leg as he eliminates more space between them. “Then why do you keep trying to deny it, huh?” Jimmy looks everywhere but Tango’s eyes for a moment before locking onto them when he runs out of options. It taps at his heart. They look like they’re burning all the time, which is such a jump from any eyes he’s ever seen before. There is a strange sense of pride in knowing only he gets to look in them like this now. So lovely, so easy to get lost in. And he does, before he realizes he should be speaking. He clears his throat. “I—well, I just, I just don’t.. I don’t have people sayin’ things like that to me usually,” Jimmy says, his words having less and less volume as he reaches the end. It feels silly, speaking to him with such direct eye contact, practically unable to look away now. Tango’s eyebrows furrow a bit. His fingers graze Jimmy’s forehead a bit as he brushes a bit of hair out of his eyes, slightly fixing the mess he’d made just moments ago. It sends a quick shiver down Jimmy’s spine, and Tango grins on cue, as if he can feel it too. It makes him wonder how much soulbounds can really feel, leading into sudden panic at the idea that Tango can feel his nervousness, his internal reactions. Tango’s got such a solid hold on his face, though it doesn’t hurt. And he’s sure the heat and the attention have turned his face a bright shade of red. “I’ve heard what they say about you,” Tango says, still focused on his eyes, “I know you probably don’t wanna bring it up, but I’ve heard that they think you’re some kind of bad juju.. curse-y guy.” “I kinda am.” “Jimmy!” “It’s not necessarily bad! It’s just my.. I don’t know. My thing, you know. First to go.” “Well, that’s not gonna be us,” Tango says, matter-of-factly. “Exactly. We are winners, after all.” “So now you decide to be Mr. Confident?” Jimmy chuckles a bit and shrugs. He really wasn’t ever really too worried about the curse. Not till it mattered, in the final moments. Or when it took him by surprise just before it was over. But if anything, he was usually pretty good about it. Even with the jokes and the mocking. The whispers about being the canary and that he brings death wherever he walks. Maybe it was true. But he was always gonna fight to prove them wrong. Jimmy did not believe that he was bad luck. He’s just.. Jimmy—who isn’t used to taking compliments. Or touch. Two things that Tango was apparently not holding out on, which sent him into a tizzy. “Look, what I wanted to say was that.. I don’t think that about you,” Tango says. Jimmy’s jokey smile drops to something more genuine. He can feel his heart squeeze. Tango’s eyes hold something very truthful, and who wouldn’t believe a sight like that? “I’ve never thought that. Even when we died today. If anything, it was totally my fault and.. yeah. I know we’re past that now, but..” “I told you it was alright, Tango,” Jimmy says, habitually tipping his head to the side a bit with a smile. In tipping his head, Tango doesn’t move his hand. He cups the side of his head, catching him without hesitation. It feels foreign to Jimmy. He almost wants to try and adjust himself again and get out of it. Relax, he thinks to himself, it’s just Tango… your soulmate, Tango. And then his heart rate picks up again. “I know you did! Just.. I’m happy it’s us. I’m happy it’s you. I don’t think we’re gonna mess this up. We’re in this til the end, you and me. No one else.” At that, Jimmy feels himself start to melt. He’d been doing so well at keeping it together, but something in him just gives out. Tango holding his face, talking so sweetly and calmly. It’s like a dream, glowing with torchlight and the slightest shine of moonlight from hidden crevices keeping them in each other’s vision as night settles into her role. A rather goofy, maybe even starstruck smile sneaks onto his face. “We’re gonna be alright,” Jimmy says quietly. “Yeah.” And it’s true. They will be alright, for now. Even with secrets and “curses” and hopefully more of those beautiful hair ruffles too. Jimmy really hopes for those. But they’re gonna do it together. That’s the key word, it seems: together. Teamwork. Soulmates. He feels so very lucky. The two of them, not necessarily against the world, but against the odds. Seconds pass in silence. Tango’s thumb brushes lightly back and forth across Jimmy’s cheek, and neither of them are quite sure when their free hands intertwined with each other, but they’re all tangled fingers now. It feels.. nice. Really nice. And he’s got that terrible feeling of wanting to just get all of the touch and none at the same time. But everything sounds so good, like he’s stuck a toe in and wants to dive deeper. More hugs, more anything. There’s those deep urges back again, but stronger. Yet, it makes him nervous. There was so much inner conflict, all because he just wasn’t used to relationships like this. “Hey, Jimmy?” “Hm—Oh, yeah?” With a swift, rather smooth drop of his Jimmy’s cheek, Tango lurches forward and wraps his arms around him. He immediately buries his face into Jimmy’s neck and shoulder, sending him rocking back a bit before Jimmy can even respond. Meanwhile, Jimmy has gone into statue mode. His shoulders tense. He does the automatic reciprocation, awkwardly wrapping his arms around Tango as well. But his own hugging feels.. wildly different than how Tango holds him. The way Tango wraps his arms around Jimmy’s torso so tight, like he never wants to let go. He can feel him put all of his weight into the embrace, and if Jimmy would have been ready for it, maybe he wouldn’t have immediately stiffened up. He hopes Tango can’t feel it. He doesn’t want to make him upset, or like he’s ungrateful for the sudden affection. He thinks for a moment about pulling away, readying an apology. Maybe that’d make this easier. But he refuses. He’s not gonna let this win. He forces himself to breathe, first off. The heartbeat in his chest slows slightly, even if his lungs and heart feel like they’ve got minds of their own. He closes his eyes, and thinks solely about the warmth. Jimmy was right, he’s a raging wildfire trapped underneath skin. Perfectly sized space heater, all to himself. It feels like playing with fire, even knowing that this body in his arms could burst into flames when provoked. There is odd curiosity in it, giving him just a little bit of distraction. As his shoulders and chest slump slightly, he can feel Tango lean into him, seizing the opportunity to get even closer. Jimmy can’t help but chuckle a bit, tipping his head down into Tango’s hair as his fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt. He grips him tightly, overcome with a slowly building need to be as close as possible. Jimmy knows the world will be so oh-so-cold if he lets go now. He wonders why he never had someone like this sooner. The nerves in his back come alive as Tango softly rubs little circles. His fingers dance. Jimmy melts yet again. As they quietly embrace, breathing each other in and learning each crevice and nook of the opposing body, peace finds them. The exhaustion of their first day is coming in full force, and Jimmy can’t help but start to feel a little sleepy. His eyelids grow heavy, and his head seems to lean further onto Tango’s. A soft giggle erupts from his chest, and he feels Tango’s breath through his shirt as his shoulders shake a little. “What’re you laughing at?” Jimmy mumbles into his hair. “Finally got’cha,” Tango teases, obviously referring to the absolute puddle he has turned Jimmy into. So he can feel it. Jimmy doesn’t open his eyes. He just smiles. “Yeah. You got me.”

[kittenintheden]

You Can Read Me Anything - Part 1

welp, they did it, fam. @fangswbenefits and @bludazey egged me on to flesh out a one-shot based on this prompt and I have done so. this is part 1. THERE WILL BE A PART 2 I SWEAR.

Edit: PART 2 IS UP!

***

Druidic Tav grew up in a nomadic clan that recorded their history through spoken word and song rather than written text. As such, she's illiterate, and one charming-ish vampire offers to help her with reading lessons and a whole lot more. Out of the goodness of his heart, of course.

Then one night, she unwittingly brings him smut for their lesson.

Rating: E Word Count: 3500 words Content: illiterate Tav, Astarion being a shit, but also being cute, innocent Tav, suggestive dialogue, secondhand smut via fake bodice ripper

AO3 Link

"Astarion?" Tav says quietly, poking her head around the open flap of his tent. She finds him sitting cross-legged inside, his eyes scanning over the book laying open in his lap. He looks up at the inquiry and lifts his chin with a cavalier smile.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite companion," he says, voice lilting. "What can I do for you?"

Tav clears her throat and ducks inside, settling on her knees just beyond. She has a book of her own in her hands, fingers impatiently tapping against the cover. "I wondered if you might be up for giving me another reading lesson."

He hums, tipping his own tome shut and setting it aside. "Something from that broken up old temple we found today? Give it here, let's see."

Hesitantly, she holds it out for him and he accepts it, gaze scanning the binding. He lifts a brow, then flips it open and peruses a page. Then another. He snaps it shut again.

"I don't know if this is the best book for a… ah," he says, contemplating his next words. His mouth tics up on one side as he glances her up and down. "Reading lesson."

Tav frowns. "Why not? I thought you'd be interested, given the picture on the cover."

Astarion peers down at the cover and huffs. "Well. I can certainly see why you'd think so. The resemblance is... resemblant."

It's a finely-wrought etching of two people, one swooning against the other. The figure behind supports the other about the waist with one hand, the opposite pulling their hair aside to reveal their neck. The dominant figure leans toward their throat as if for a kiss, pointed teeth showing past their lips.

Tav shrugs. "Is it too advanced? Is that why?"

Astarion gives a sharp laugh and puts his fingers in front of his mouth as if he's trying to put it back. "Erm, no, dear. I think you could puzzle through it just fine."

"Okay..." Tav says, perplexed. "Then what?'

"Bleeding Hells," he mutters, rubbing a forefinger in the space between his eyes. "Why don't you try reading the title out for me? Let's start there."

Tav takes the book back and looks at the lettering on the front. It's the Common alphabet, so not too terrible to parse, though she’s still working on some of the more complex blended sounds.

"In..." she starts, running her finger beneath the words and feeling the soft leather beneath. "the... Embra... Embrace?"

Astarion is leaning on one hand and he gives a patient nod.

"In the Embrace... of... the... Nig... Nig-het..."

"Night, sweet thing," Astarion says softly. "G beside H is silent."

"Right," Tav says, looking again. "So, In the Embrace of the Night... stalker."

"Try again."

Tav studies the letters. They spot their mistake. "Nightsucker."

Astarion nods.

She looks very pleased with herself, beaming at him. "Got it! What's the problem, again?"

The vampire closes his eyes and holds his hands in prayer position in front of his lips as if he's steeling himself. He opens his scarlet eyes and moves his hands away. "Shall I read you a page or two to start? Maybe then you'll understand."

Thrilled, Tav nods and returns the tome, sitting herself more comfortably as Astarion leafs through the pages.

"Ooooh," he says, his voice lifting. "This passage looks promising." He lowers the book in front of him so Tav can scoot around and follow along as he reads, committing symbol to sound.

Astarion's carefully kept fingernails run along the text inside, showing where he's reading. In his practiced, soothing Upper City voice, he begins to read. "A creature of the night is good for only two things: destruction or seduction. Perhaps both at once, if a person is lucky. And tonight, Yolanda is very, very lucky."

Tav subconsciously nods along, feeling a little thrill of pride every time she mentally catches the word before Astarion says it aloud. Her companion continues to read about Yolanda and her new vampiric friend, until the story takes... a bit of a turn.

"Yolanda gasps rapturously as Armondo suckles at the crease of her thigh, skin flushing as his sinful tongue laps closer and closer to the place she needs it most, to her swollen secret spot, and when at last he catches it in a languid swirl, she keens out his-"

Tav puts her hands on either side of the book over Astarion's and forces him to snap it shut, her cheeks flaming. Slowly, she turns her head to find Astarion's face very, very close, a look of deep amusement in his eye and a smirk stretching his lips.

"I have to go," Tav says. "Keep the book." Her legs aren't immediately cooperative, but when she manages to get them to respond, she scrambles inelegantly for the exit. "Good night."

"Sweet dreams," Astarion calls after her, still smirking. Once she’s gone, he opens the book back up to that same passage.

"What will Armondo do next, I wonder," he whispers.

After about a minute, when he's sure Tav is safely tucked away in her own tent and likely screaming into her makeshift pillow, he clears his throat and squirms, reaching down to adjust the front of his trousers. They've gone quite tight.

That’s probably normal.

---

Tav’s washing some of her delicates out in the river the next day when the vampire she’s actively been avoiding finally finds her. She glances his way briefly then looks immediately out at the Chionthar like it’s the most interesting thing she’s ever seen.

“Hello,” she says too brightly, wadding up her soaked underthings in her hands and wringing them out.

Astarion, to his credit, is acting perfectly natural. He sets himself on a flat rock near her and tilts his face toward the afternoon sun, eyes closed as he soaks up its rays. “Hello, darling,” he lilts. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

Her laugh is tinny and high. “What? No, I…”

He tips his head forward and sets his gaze on her, amusement clear on his face.

With an exasperated hiss, she gathers her delicates up and puts them into the sack she’s brought with her. She’ll hang them up to dry inside her tent. “Fine, maybe a little. I’m embarrassed.”

“Of what?” he says, head tilting just so.

She rolls her eyes at him. “Of accidentally asking you to read me porn? Of being too dense to take the hint from the cover or the title? Of needing help to read in the first place? Take your pick.”

Astarion laughs, though not in a mocking way. “You’re quite entertaining, do you know that?” He turns his body more fully toward her, tenting one leg so he can rest his forearm on his knee. “I’ve met many, many literate people who are far duller and denser than you. And they didn’t even have the excuse of growing up severed from civilized society.”

Tav sticks her tongue out at him, but she smiles nonetheless. Her nomadic druidic clan didn’t put much stock in the written word – they shared their knowledge through spoken story and song. It’s a system that served her perfectly well up until she was plucked off the face of the world by a planeshifting aberrant ship.

Why she’d chosen Astarion of all her newfound companions to be her reading tutor, she didn’t rightly know. Gale seemed the most obvious choice, or Wyll. Both would have been kind and patient teachers. But there was something about her guarded, bristly friend that she wanted to understand, like why he spent most of his free time buried in more books than even her wizard companion bothered with. Astarion had been surprisingly amicable to the idea when she’d brought it up.

And so the lessons had begun, as had the increase in his flirting.

She knows his nature, of course. The lot of them had barely been together for seventy-two hours before he’d tried to make a snack of her and she’d agreed to allow it, much to his surprise. What was a bit of blood, really, if it meant giving another being strength? She could spare it.

Without meaning to, she reaches up to brush her fingers across her neck at the site of his latest bite. The wound is gone, healed over with her own natural magic, but she remembers the icy sting.

Astarion doesn’t fail to notice, his tented leg swaying ever so slightly to and fro. “You like it, don’t you?” he says.

“Like what?” she says, grimacing at how bad she is at nonchalance.

“Don’t play coy,” he teases, leaning toward her. “I can feel it when I feed on you, you know. Your little shakes of excitement.”

“Little shakes from blood loss, you mean,” Tav snaps, clutching up her bag a bit too tightly in her hands.

Astarion raises his hands to placate her. “All right, if we insist on living in denial,” he says. “I’ll continue to play teacher.”

“Well, good,” she says, dropping her eyes to the space between them. “Because that’s what this is. Teaching.”

“Of course,” he says, mouth lifted on one side.

Tav huffs and gets to her feet. She goes six steps before she turns on her heel and walks back to him, “You know what? Fine. Another lesson tonight. Same book.”

His brows tick up. “This ought to be good,” he says. “I’ll see you later, then.”

“Yes, you will,” she says, making a little jerk with her fist near her thigh. She seems to feel this is a fitting end to the interaction because she turns on her heel and stomps off, bag of wet undergarments in hand.

“Premonition of things to come?” Astarion says to himself, wriggling his shoulders and quietly laughing at his own joke. There’s a moment where he realizes he’s smiling his real smile. He pulls his lips back over his teeth and clears his throat, straightening his shirt before he gets up to occupy his time until better plans come along.

---

Astarion dramatically reads another passage of smut aloud and Tav is doing her level best to keep her thighs pressed tightly together. She can practically smell herself, so she’s fairly certain that her reading partner, who happens to be a literal predator, certainly can. Her cheeks must be scarlet.

“‘Armondo, darkness in my heart!’ Yolanda shrieks to the rafters.”

Her companion throws up his hand toward the roof of his tent, beaming down at the page he reads. They’ve both long since abandoned the finger on the text method in favor of his theatrics.

“The nightsucker crawls over his conquest like a panther.” Astarion reads from his whole chest, clearly having the time of his life. “He has claimed her once already and she remains unsatiated, mewling beneath him like a simpering kitten.”

Tav doesn’t think either of them are pretending this is an actual reading lesson anymore. At least, she isn’t. She’s too stubborn and too mortified to admit that this was a mistake. So here she sits while the prettiest man she’s ever met continues to regale her with complete filth.

Worse, she doesn’t hate it.

She squeezes her thighs together tighter.

“‘I will feed on you once more,’ Armondo purrs in his deep baritone.” Astarion drops his voice to match and Tav can’t help the giggle that bubbles up her throat, though she tries to catch it in her hand.

Astarion continues. “‘But first, I will drink of your nectar.’ His fingers roam down the hills and valleys of her skin, his mouth following, until he reaches her lush garden and the coveted rose within, his tongue seeking hidden depths-”

Tav interrupts him with a groan as she covers her eyes. “Oh gods, not again.”

The vampire takes pity on her at last and tips the book shut with one hand, placing his palm over the top of it where it rests in his lap. “You surprise me,” he says with a light laugh. “I’d have thought you’d want to hear tell of a lad with a gilded tongue who knows his way around a lady’s flower.”

She covers her entire face and screams into her hands a little. When she’s calmed, she lowers her hands to her folded knees and looks to the side. Before she can stop herself, she blurts, “Do a lot of people do that?”

Astarion, who had been reaching for a different book so he could at least give her the semblance of an actual lesson, stops mid-motion. He turns his head toward her and says, “What?”

Tav gives a rapidfire laugh and pulls her knees to her chest, rocking a bit. She glances at his face and away again so quickly it’s nearly imperceptible. “I mean, it’s common enough to be in a book, so I imagine it’s fairly common… place?” she stammers. “Seems like people enjoy it. Right?”

Astarion stares. “Tav.”

She scratches a spot behind her ear and doesn’t meet his eyes. “Hm?”

“Tav,” Astarion says again, the word harder.

She huffs and looks him in the eye, face completely flushed.

He’s still staring. "No one’s ever gone down on you?"

Tav puts her hands to her blushing cheeks and glares at him. "No. I didn't think it was something people... usually did."

He gives an incredulous laugh. Completely bewildered. "Darling, are you... are you a virgin?"

"No!" she says again with as much offense as she can muster. "I've been with people. Two. Two people."

"Well, they can't have been very good," he scoffs. "My gods. You poor, poor dear.”

“Okay, okay, stop making fun of me.” She flaps her hands at him. “I just thought it sounded… I don’t know. Nice?”

“Nice?” Astarion breathes through his disbelieving smile before he swallows his incredulity and pulls it back together. “I’m not making fun, my sweet. Only mourning on your behalf that you’ve experienced such flops. I wish you better future lovers.”

“Ugh,” she groans again, going to her hands and knees. “I’m leaving now. And I’m taking this book back.”

She goes to reach for it and he shrinks away, his palm pressing tighter to the cover. “No!”

When she startles at his outburst and looks at him, she catches the scarcest fraction of what looks like panic on his face before his features reform themselves into his usual smoldering smirk. It’s so fast she’s sure she imagined it.

“This is mine,” he purrs. “You gave it to me. No take-backsies.”

“Oh, fine,” she snaps at him before she makes her exit. He half-expects her to burst into a flurry of fur and feather in her huff, but she remains person-shaped.

When she’s gone, he blinks after her several times before he dares move the book from his lap, straightening his leg and wincing. He reaches a hand to adjust the rigid length standing out along his thigh under his trousers.

It’s been pinching for a minute.

---

He won’t leave her in peace.

Oh, he’s nice enough. Courteous enough not to be a complete scamp when the others are near, which she makes sure they are, frequently.

Unfortunately, he catches her alone on one of her daily nature walks by dropping out of a tree to block her path. She glowers at him as he bends forward, hands behind his back, and gives her his very best charmer’s smile.

“You haven’t been by my tent for the last few nights,” he says. “Whyever not?”

She rolls her eyes and steps around him, continuing down the path. He immediately follows.

“You must keep up with your studies, darling,” he says as he falls into step beside her. “Else you’ll lose all your freshly acquired skills.”

Tav sighs. “Gale’s been helping me.”

Astarion stops short and she gets several steps ahead before she bothers to look around for him.

“Gale?” he sneers. Under her gaze, he rapidly regains his composure and draws his shoulders back, giving his light laugh. “That must be terribly boring.”

She shrugs. “I figured I’d put you out enough.”

He tucks his chin. “Is that what you think? That I didn’t enjoy our time together? Because I assure you it’s very much the opposite.” He tosses his head and gives a cheeky grin. “I’ve many more lessons I could offer, if you’d like.”

Tav arches an eyebrow at him. “Like what?” she says as she turns to walk the path again.

Astarion retakes his place at her side. “Did you know I speak several languages?”

“Is that so?” she says. “I speak three. Common, druidic, and bad druidic.”

“Well, there you go,” he says. “Interested in learning more?”

To illustrate his point, he slips seamlessly into a flowing, silky language she presumes to be Elvish. From that, his words go harder and sharper. Finally, they edge into something guttural.

Despite herself, she smiles and looks sidelong at him. “Did you make that last one up?”

“Absolutely not, how dare you,” he says. “I also read shady secret code, but that’s neither here nor there, really.”

Tav contemplates. “The first one was pretty, I guess.”

“An Elvish language lesson it is, then.” He smiles wickedly. "Go on, repeat after me."

He says something in Elvish, a phrase with flowing vowels and rounded words that sound delicious on the tongue.

Tav forces herself to stop staring at his mouth as he speaks. "Say again?" she says, tucking her hair behind her ear and focusing on the ground, trying to pay closer attention to the sound of the words.

He repeats the phrase.

With a slight frown, she repeats it back almost perfectly. Years and years around a campfire learning the tales of her people prepared her for it.

"Oh," Astarion says. "Your intonation is... quite good."

She risks a look at him and finds him peering at her with eyes half-lidded, that same wicked smile on his lips.

Her frown deepens. "What did you just have me say?"

"Only that I'm beautiful and I deserve nice things," he says with a flourish of his hand. "Which is true."

Tav looks him up and down, but he seems sincere enough, so she continues on her walk and he stays in step, the air between them full of the language of his ancestry. She absorbs it as she absorbs the sun.

---

The next day, Shadowheart leads a dapple-gray mare laden with supplies through the camp. Wyll comes along to help her unload and the pair make small talk until the last sack is removed from the horse’s back and she shifts back into humanoid form.

“Appreciate the help, Tav,” Shadowheart says. “That would’ve taken several trips without you.”

Tav beams at her. “You could’ve taken Lae’zel, you know. Pretty sure she could lift me. While I’m in horse form.”

The cleric gives her a sardonic look. “Where’s your bloodsucking shadow?” she quips back.

Tav laughs. “Okay, I deserved that. I think he’s hunting.”

Shadowheart hums. “He could at least bring the body back for the rest of us once in a while.” She sets down her last crate and dusts her hands off. “That’s enough components for me to replenish our potion stock. What do you need?”

“I could use two or three more vials of Oil of Accuracy,” Tav admits. “You wouldn’t think a lioness’ claws needed to be more accurate, but you’d be wrong.”

“Done,” Shadowheart says. “I’ll have them to you by tomorrow morning.”

Tav nods her appreciation and gives Shadowheart a clap on the shoulder as she walks past. On a whim, she throws out one of the Elvish phrases Astarion taught her in thanks.

“... what did you just say to me?” Shadowheart says.

Tav turns. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I thought you’d speak Elvish, too. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Shadowheart shakes her head. “No, no. I do speak Elvish. I want you to repeat what you just said.”

Blinking in confusion, Tav does so.

The cleric’s expression can only be called disbelieving. “Yes, that’s what I thought you said. Who taught you that?”

“Astarion,” Tav says, twisting her staff in her hands. “Gods, did I say it wrong?”

Shadowheart laughs into her hand, then sobers and clears her throat. “No, your ear is surprisingly good. Thank you for that. Mind if I teach you one to say next time you see him?”

“Really?” Tav says, thrilled. “I’d love that.”

They spend a few moments committing a new phrase to Tav’s memory and then Shadowheart sends her on her merry way, unable to drop the smile from her face.

Wyll comes up beside her, having finally emptied the last of the nearby crates. He holds a silver mug out to Shadowheart and lifts his own toward his mouth.

“What did that phrase Astarion taught her really mean?” he asks as he puts his drink to his lips.

Shadowheart holds her mug in both hands and leans in closer. “It’s not a direct translation, but… think along the lines of, ‘I will take you between my thighs until you forget your breath.’”

Wyll chokes and spits out his drink chivalrously in the direction opposite Shadowheart. He coughs and brings up an arm to wipe his mouth.

“And what did you teach her back?” he wheezes.

Shadowheart smirks. “‘If you wish to drink of my fountain, speak it with your lips to mine.’”

Wyll leans forward to put his hands on his knees and wheezes again. “Oh, that… that’s going to be a thing.”

“I hope so,” Shadowheart says, taking a draught from her own cup.

PART 2

[dyadicjustice]

can u do like a hazelxreader best friends to lovers

like they’ve both been secretly in love with each other and pining for years but were too scared to say anything (and maybe smut if u write that but if not that’s totally good)

ooooh let me see what magic i can work, bestie. aged up the characters to be in college, so rockbridge falls high is now rockbridge university. unfortunately no smut this time because i am awful at it 😅 but i hope you enjoy this little blurb instead

ao3 link for if u prefer to read there :)

At 11:30, Professor G's class let out without anyone having learned anything actually in the syllabus. But for you, there wasn’t much room in your mind for history lessons anyway. You were too distracted by Hazel sitting next to you, scrolling on Twitter and excitedly showing you every adorable cat meme she came across. 

You’d known each other since the 3rd grade, and it was safe to say that some things never change— especially not your love for one another as best friends. At least until the end of Senior Year, when you’d started to realize that change was inevitable, and you’d fallen hard for her.

You’d been overcompensating these past couple months. You’d purposely try to fly under the radar, so she wouldn’t notice you pining or the countless lingering looks and lip biting. Desperation was heavy in your bones, settled deep in your core. So when you finally return to your shared dorm, she asks, “Seriously y/n, it seems like you’re not even here most days. What’s going on?”  

You know you can’t lie to her. You can’t lie to those dazzling grey eyes, so warm and sweet and sincere. So you sigh and admit, “Are you ready to receive some potentially devastating information that could change the state of our friendship forever?”

She blinks and lets out a quiet chuckle, “Uh, no promises, weirdo. What’s up?” 

“Hazel, I’m being serious. It’s like... important,” you whine.

She hikes an eyebrow at your nervous demeanor, taking a beat to take in your features. She’s suddenly fully aware you’re uncomfortable when you start to wring your hands a bit. To calm your fidgeting, she slips her hands in between them and intertwines your fingers. You feel her sweet gesture start to soothe you, like when puppies snuggle up to you to help you stop crying.

She whispers, “What’s wrong, bean?”

Your eyes start to water at the nickname. “You have to promise you won’t get upset”, you choke out.

She wraps her arms around your neck in a comforting embrace, and whispers in your ear, “I promise. You can tell me, only if you’re comfortable and ready.” And her considerate nature makes you want to cave and sob right then and there.

“I love you, Hazel. But, I also… I just… I’m in love with you.” You can’t even meet her eyes out of pure embarrassment. You feel her fingers snake beneath your chin, and she gently tugs until you’re looking into her eyes. She stares into yours, into your soul, really. She whispers, “y/f/n, I’ve been dreaming of hearing you say that for years.” You both giggle. You joke, “That’s such a fucking relief because I would’ve shat myself if you rejected me.” 

“I could never reject you, bean! Thank you for being brave enough to tell me.” You can hear the smile in her voice. “But I am curious, when did you realize you felt that way?”

You sigh, “Honestly? I knew I was sure when we went to Senior Prom together, so 6 months maybe? But I also would say, I’d felt something since we were like 10. I just hadn’t realized how deep my love was back then.”

Hazel murmurs, “You made Prom Night so magical. You looked lovely. Not to mention, you just had this magnetism to you that had everybody staring. I was fighting the urge to kiss you the entire evening. It was hardest during the slow dance.”

You admit that you had felt similarly, explaining, “It was hardest for me to resist when you had that little bit of whipped cream stuck on your lip when we went to Denny’s after. I wiped it away with a napkin, but I wish I’d just gone for it.” 

You stare up at her lovingly as a subtle silence emerges between you, your eyes scanning her features before dropping to her lips. Without saying a word, you crash your lips together. Hers taste like… well, like nothing and like everything at the same time. Just chapstick and love. 

And it’s not your first time kissing a girl by any means, But you can already tell it’s your favorite after only ten seconds. 

Hazel pulls away, breathless, “So just to be clear, what does this make you and me?” She smirks.

You hold her cheek with one hand and hook the other around the back of her neck, scratching the back of her head. Her jaw goes slack and her eyes flutter. You reply, “Horny, Hazel. It makes us really fucking horny.”

She smirks, “Maybe we should… do something about that. Your place or mine?” She dopily wiggles her eyebrows. It’s made even more ridiculous by the fact that your beds are just feet away from each other.

You shoot back, giggling, “Yours. I don’t wanna fuck up my sheets right now.”

She scoops you up bridal style and sets you down on her bed. Those months of pre-season training for rugby had made her insanely strong despite her short and lean figure.

She kisses your forehead and replies, “Whatever you wish, Your Majesty.”

[stanchett]

ooooh for the prompts, maybe sub!lucifer x reader, like lucifer not in a million years thinking that being submissive would be enjoyable but after reader touches her wings lucifer is like ....... whaT are these Feelings :) so like i guess a wink kink? haha

Here you go, anon! It’s a little shorter than my other fics, but I hope you enjoy it!! This is also unbeta'd, so I apologize for any errors I might've missed!!

Also, thanks so much for 500 followers??? I’m floored by all the support on my writing, you guys are the best 🫶

AO3 Link

Playing with Fire

Warnings: NSFW

1.6k words

The black marble floors of Lucifer’s throne room stung your bare feet with a chill at each step, contrasting perfectly with the heat of the hellish realm. The air smelled of burnt sandalwood, vanilla and sin; a strangely comforting scent, one signature to the Morningstar. You ascended the steps to find them seated at the edge of the small pit of fire at the center of the room, fingers dancing amid the flames. You watched closely, their long digits twirling them around, coaxing them higher. They had yet to regard your presence, but they spoke up nonetheless. 

“My curious Little Lamb.” Your next steps were hesitant, and you came to a halt a few feet from them. Deciding it was in your best interest to remain on their good side, you knelt before them out of respect, dropping to one knee and lowering your gaze to the floor. Out of your line of sight, they turned to take you in in your submissive state, a pleased smile crossing their features. 

After several moments, you lifted your eyes to meet theirs, and a chill ran down your spine at the way they looked down at you. “Rise, and join me,” were their only words, turning their attention back to the flames beside them. 

You stood slowly, hands clasping behind your back as you moved in their direction. Taking a seat in front of them on the cool ruddy stone, you turned your gaze to the fire as well, its heat licking at your exposed skin around your white silken gown. A rogue spark flew in your direction, landing on the back of your hand. You hissed in pained surprise, and shook it in the air briefly. The Morningstar only chuckled; of course your pain brought them joy. The sound of their laugh distracted you momentarily, as it was a sound that hinted at the life they once lived - it was an angelic, throaty sound. You scowled in return, but couldn’t help the blush that rose to your cheeks. You were making a habit of proving yourself a fool in front of this timeless being. 

“Give me your hand,” they said gently, reaching out their own in encouragement. Placing it palm-down, you assumed they meant to tend to your small wound, but they turned it upward instead, their other hand still dancing amid the flames. Drawing it out, they brought with them a perfectly round ball of heat, and you watched as they manipulated it with their fingers. “Keep very still.”

They eased the ball of fire into your palm, and you gasped. You watched in bewilderment as it failed to burn you. Instead it danced and lashed about, hovering only inches above your flesh. Eyes wide, you shot them a wide grin, amazed at its inability to harm you. Their fingers rose to toy with it absentmindedly before scooping it from where it sat and dropped it back into the pit. 

You scooted closer toward them, their adoring gaze inviting you into their space. As your eyes swept over their form, they fell to their glorious wings peeking over their shoulders before rising to meet theirs. You were so curious about them; were they heavy? How often did they use them for their intended purpose? How did Lucifer dress in their robes if they protruded from their back? As you pondered, their smirk never left their face, as if they could sense your questions before you voiced them. 

“What do they… feel like?” You nodded in the direction of the leathery appendages, hoping such a question wasn’t too imposing. You couldn’t imagine carrying the literal nor metaphorical weight on your shoulders as a reminder of your faults. Lucifer turned their head to regard them before answering, and they fluttered in acknowledgement. 

“I suppose they took some getting used to, but adjust to them, I did,” they answered plainly. Your fingers twitched in curiosity, hand still resting in the Morningstar’s much larger one. They raised an eyebrow and caught your gaze, spurring you on to ask what you really wanted to. 

“May I touch them?” Their eyes narrowed at you, not out of anger, but in interest. They thought you quite brave for making such a request. Not a single soul in Hell dared touch them in that way, let alone ask to. Realizing you could do no harm to them in their own dominion, they silently obliged, left wing unfolding from behind them. Your eyes followed its length outward; their wingspan was easily eight feet, maybe more. Stretching to its full size, it flexed around its owner’s form in your direction before coming to rest a few inches from where you sat, shielding you from the doorway through which you entered. 

Your fingers were gentle as you reached out, allowing only the backs of them to stroke the bone beneath darkened flesh. They were much softer than you had anticipated, and the joints twitched at the contact. You flinched away at the small reflex, before spreading the pads of your fingers over the expanse between its thinner connective structures. Your fingers traced the small veins that showed through them due to the fire’s light delicately, and a small sigh emanated from beside you. Your movements stilled as you turned your head to meet the gaze of a flushed Lucifer Morningstar, who immediately retracted their wing to their back. 

“I think that is quite enough.” You didn’t mean to offend them, and you assumed you had, until your mind put the pieces together. They refused to meet your eyes with their own, which were now hooded by something darker, as they turned their attention back to the flames beside you both - desire. Boldly you stood from your seat, and your feet padded their way behind them. Both folded wings sat before you, and you knelt upon the raised ring of stone to maintain your height with theirs. Against your better judgement, you reached out and placed your hands on their shoulders and began massaging through their blood-red robes. A hum of approval came as a welcomed surprise as you manipulated the tense muscles beneath, Lucifer’s eyes fluttering shut as they succumbed to the contact. The sound filled you with a newfound confidence, and you lowered your lips to their ear.

“If I didn’t know better, I would think you enjoyed that…” You were pushing your luck, you knew, but if your reward was more of the heavenly sounds of their pleasure, how could you even consider stopping yourself? The glorious entity before you sighed again, more deeply in response to your whispers. 

Your fingers worked the muscles to the base of their wings, thumbs digging into where they were rooted in their back. A low growl rattled in Lucifer’s chest and you placed an open-mouthed kiss on their pulse point, tongue tracing over the sensitive skin. Their initial shock at the eroticism gave way to submission and they melted into your touch, their posture going more slack as you continued in your descent upon them. 

Both wings spread outward to half their full length to grant you better access, and you smoothed your hands over their upper ridges, digits dancing over their horned peaks. A breathy moan fell from Lucifer’s mouth as your gentle touch swept over the sharp points, and you whispered to them again, your voice dropping several octaves. 

“Would the Ruler of Hell do me the pleasure of touching themselves for me?” You nearly groaned at the suggestive nature of your own question, and their legs immediately fell apart. Taking advantage of the large split in their robes, you watched as their long fingers stroked up their bare thigh, and you blushed upon realizing they had been naked beneath them the whole time. 

You timed your next move perfectly; just as their touch reached the apex of their thighs, you brushed your thumb over the curved edge of the horn in your grasp, and the Morningstar threw their head back against your shoulder with a rumbling moan. The effect you had on them amazed you. What began as innocent curiosity had turned into something so much more fruitful and satisfying. 

Lucifer’s breaths were labored as you continued to work them up, hands rubbing and squeezing along the joints of their massive wings. You then splayed your fingers apart, running them down the expanse of flesh between them. They quivered in response, their breaths shaky as they drew closer to their climax. Your mouth watered at the sight of them pleasuring themselves, the muscles of their forearm flexing as they circled their bundle of nerves that was just barely hidden from sight. Pressing your body into their back, you applied pressure to where their wings sprouted from the pale, toned flesh beneath the red silk, and they relished in the closeness. 

With a final stroke over the lower tips of their leathery appendages, they came undone before you with stifled cry. Your hands grasped their waist as Lucifer fell, steadying them against your form. You pressed a kiss to the top of their spine causing them to shiver before you pulled away, any and all confidence you had dissipating that very moment. Unsure of their reaction, you bowed your head as they turned to face you once more. Their hands caressed your jaw reassuringly, raising your head to meet their eyes. Their features were relaxed, and any worry left your mind upon regarding them as they spoke in the timeless fashion you adored. 

“You have served me well, Little Lamb. Allow me to return the favor.”

[marisferasiop]

Interloper

a Transplant short

Ao3 link

Summary: when a new citizen of Jackson gets a little too aggressive when you turn him down (and a little too rough with Ezra, who comes to intervene) Joel ensures that he thoroughly understands the consequences.

Word count: about 4k

Warnings: canon- typical violence, jealous/overprotective Joel, boys kissing, slight internalized homophobia (or fear of it, at least), blow jobs, breathplay if you squint

Rating: explicit! Minors DNI

Note: set 1 year after Transplant. If you haven't, I suggest that you read it first so you're not lost! Also I forgot who made these dividers but I did rb them as asked when I saved a few 😭

Tags: taking a step outside my comfort zone and tagging those I thought would like based on previous interactions/feedback (if I tagged you mistakenly OR didn't tag you I'm sorry!) @for-a-longlongtime @wannab-urs @morallyinept @ezrasbirdie @luxurychristmaspudding @timelordfreya @chronically-ghosted I never tag ppl I'm freaking out a little at the idea of being p e r c i e v e d, sorry.

He had woken up in such a good mood, too.

Joel had stirred in the witching hour that morning to the feel of your cool, little hand curving over his ribs as you slid back into bed behind him.

“Hmm?” He’d grunted, tipping his head up toward the ceiling to look back. You had sighed back at him as you tucked your knees behind his, smothering your face between his shoulder blades.

“Had to pee.”

Under his chin, Ezra had stretched and turned into him, soft breath tickling his throat, and Joel had drifted back off.

When he’d been awoken flat on his back sometime later, the sun up and searing through your windows, it was to find you and Ezra each straddling one of his knees, sucking his dick in tandem.

He’d nearly come at the sight.

“Oh, Jesus fuck,” he’d quietly groaned, spreading his knees a little, reaching down to palm your heads. You had glanced up at him and grinned around your mouthful of him. When you popped off, you ran your hand up and over his spit-slicked length, making his hips twitch up into your grip. Under your wrist, Ezra had tucked his face and was coaxing Joel's balls down, laving at the wrinkled skin of his sac, sucking a ball into his hot mouth as it descended. "Agh!"

“Ooooh, Joel’s awake, baby,” you’d crooned at Ezra, giving another kitten lick to Joel’s weeping head. His thighs jumped under your palms.

Ezra had his cheek smushed into Joel's thigh and was staring at your hand greedily, his mouth wet and still stretched around a testicle, waiting. He pulled away, letting Joel's balls slide out of his lips and drop with a wet slap. Joel hissed and flinched. Ezra picked his head up and swiped his tongue over your knuckles, following them up to Joel’s cockhead and between your salty lips, licking his taste off your tongue.

“We’re wondering who sucks your dick better, Knuckles,” Ezra said up to Joel serenely, cupping his balls. Joel groaned, absolutely stricken dumb. He had never been woken up with head before, and you two were gonna absolutely ruin him.

Part of him wanted that. A big part. One that grew daily, now, the longer he was with you both.

You stroked his cock tightly in your little fist and leaned it over to fit the tip in Ezra's waiting mouth. Ezra sucked half of him down greedily, pressing himself hard to take the rest.

Instantly, Joel's hand had tightened in his hair. [Ezra likes Joel being rougher with him than he is with you. He recognizes that the man has to let all that aggression out somewhere, even if it’s really repackaged desperation]. He hummed around the fat cock in his throat as those fingers twisted tighter in his hair and Joel rocked his hips at the vibration, buried himself deeper. The sting of his scalp and the squeeze of his tonsils, the burning of his lungs, feels like success to Ezra, who has spent the last year diligently working his way under the curmudgeon’s skin.

Just as Joel was about to come, his balls up tight and his cock pulsing on Ezra's tongue, the younger man had pulled off and kissed his weeping tip, passing him back to you.

Joel wanted to jump up and shake the man, throw him under himself and make him swallow every thrust until he choked on his cum, but your gentle touch on the inside of his thigh gave him pause. The marked difference of your soft, sweet sucks to Ezra's deeper, stronger pulls on him was giving him whiplash. He settled immediately under you, caught between Ezra's teeth on his thigh and your urgent nursing on his tender head.

You’d both teased Joel for ages like that, trading him back and forth with a firm squeeze to his base every time he got too close. Eventually, he erupted on your faces, painting your lolling tongue and the scarred bridge of Ezra's nose and scrappy mustache with ropes of his cum.

After, he’d let you crawl up and lay on him for deep, indulgent kisses. He traced his fingertips down your spine, feeling you bloom under his touch. He gripped your cheeks and held you open while Ezra fucked you hard from behind. He eventually relinquished your hip into Ezra's hand only to move to assist better. He got onto his creaking knees and wound one unforgiving fist into your hair and used the other to allow his calloused fingers to strum your clit til you shook apart for them.

When Ezra pulled out of you to finish himself off, Joel had moved behind him. He pinned the man back to his broader chest with one hand wrapped snugly around his throat and the other around his cock.

"Lay back for us, honey," Joel told you softly, and you were flushed and eager to comply, rolling bonelessly to your back. You cupped your breasts together and played with them for their gaze.

Joel stripped off Ezra rough and fast, still pinned into position, til he shot his load all over your heaving tits where you lay beneath their spread thighs, watching them with lust- blown pupils.

Joel had gone outside to work on your rotting porch with a smile and some pep in his step some time later, grateful and happy.

Now, play time was over and he was far from amused. He’d been having such a nice, domestic off day and you and Ellie were dragging him out to socialize.

The inhumanity.

He knew grumbling would get him nowhere, so he simply remained surly and quiet about it. Until a thought struck, anyway.

“I don't see why’n the fuck you gotta run the bar. Or do rounds, like ever? Y’all are still in school. They even let you drink?” Joel grouses to Ellie, stomping through the crisp snow beside you from the house to the Tipsy Bison.

“If I'm old enough to take patrols, I'm old enough to run the bar for a couple hours,” Ellie says sardonically.

“And drink,” You say quietly, rolling your eyes at Joel’s continued grumping. She huffs a laugh.

“Everyone does rounds, now and then, Joel. Even me. So, even Ellie. And it’s only a couple hours. You can sit with us and Cee for that long and pretend not to be such a Grinch,” you elbow him.

He harrumphs, squeezing your hand where it’s stuffed inside his coat pocket with his own, and takes Ellie's teasing in stride. She’s mimicking his grumpy stomping behind them, her arm linked with Cee's.

“Knock it off,” he says with no heat. She rolls her eyes so hard she nearly falls into a snowbank, making Cee and Ezra giggle.

“Come on, old man. Get a drink, chill out. Watch your hot girlfriend while she dances with your pretty boyfriend. I have faith in your wallflower abilities,” she claps a hand to her chest dramatically, eyes closed, and takes a loosely-packed snowball to the face for her acting skills.

Still spitting out bits of grass and pine needles, Ellie holds the door and sticks her tongue out at a smug Joel as he passes by. Cee is the last to enter and picks a blade of grass out of Ellie's hair before dropping a kiss on her icy nose. “Let’s see if you can get me wasted,” Cee leans in and whispers, straightening and biting her lips when Ezra glances over his shoulder at her with a lofted brow.

“You coulda done that at home with some 'shine and had a far better time alone, rather than here in this sausage- fest tryna get drunk on watered-down shots,” he quietly conspires, and they dissolve into appalled giggles. “There's a three- drink- max anyway.”

Inside, Joel accepts a tumbler of whiskey from Ellie and follows you and Ezra to a tall, round table with four stools. The bar is already humming, mostly patrolmen who are fresh off the wall shift stopping in to de-fuse and socialize before going home. He casts a glance around the room, recognizing most faces now after a few years in Jackson, and takes the stool beside Ezra, both facing the bar.

You’ve shucked your heavy coat and are sitting pretty across from him in a tight top and what you had called a skater skirt with dark leggings and your trusty boots to keep your legs warm in the dead of winter. (If you had noticed the way Joel had sandwiched you between him and Ezra on the walk here like a guard dog, you hadn't commented on it).

Right now he wants to put your jacket back on your pretty little shoulders. Or his own flannel. As soon as you’d hung it on the back of your chair, you had eyes on you.

Ezra drops his hand on Joel’s lap under the table and strikes up conversation with you girls, asking about Cee’s final weeks of school and the hideously strict teacher, Marnie, who has both of them and seems to have it out for her. Cee is still training at the clinic, and is now training with you in surgery. Ellie is still at the stables. She’s been moved on to farrier training now that the last foaling is done, and is taking well to it, she explains in Ellie’s absence.

You and Ezra and Cee dissolve into idle talk about the clinic, allowing Joel to zone out a bit under the pressure of the hand curved over his leg, those lissome fingertips scratching idly at the inner thigh seam of his jeans, just above his knee- nothing impertinent- and keep his eyes on the milling crowd. You hook your foot behind his calf and when he snaps his gaze to you, he forces his shoulders to drop an inch at your goading smile.

You ask him to dance and he gives you a flat look. At your pout, he turns his look on Ezra, who simply squeezes his knee and gets up. “Come on, soleil. Let’s let Knuckles guard the table. I’ll lure you back into bed with my two left feet.”

Joel is helpless not to smile in the wake of your delighted laughter. He watches Ezra lead you and Cee to the parquet. His unit, everyone he cares about most is right here, in this room, it’s okay. He just doesn't like the press of bodies after half a lifetime in the overflow of the QZs, followed by the absence of trustworthy folks on the road.

He fingers his glass idly and enjoys watching you, how Ezra doesn't let you stray too far from his reach and how you grin wide and enjoy yourself, moving to the music and giggling with Cee. He catches Ellie stealing glances of her, between serving drinks, and hides his smile behind his glass.

The door blows open with a blast of frozen air and Tommy steps in with a handful of men crisped at the edges with snow, fresh off a day- long scouting run. He claps Joel on the shoulder with an easy, tired grin before leading the group to the bar for their drinks. Joel narrows his eyes at the men; he doesn't recognize half of them. Odd, he thinks, since he’s one of the patrol heads.

Tommy thanks Ellie with a playful wink and brings his beer back, dragging a stool over to squeeze in among the others.

“What did you do on your off day, brother?” He asks, drawing Joel away from his thoughts.

Joel shrugs and glances at his partners on the dancefloor. “Slept in. Cleaned the house. Helped Sunny replace those rotten boards on her porch. Got dragged out here,” he complains lightly, knocking back the last of his drink.

Tommy scoffs and draws a panting Ezra, who has abandoned the girls for a break, into conversation next. His eyes stick to the way Ezra’s hand steals back over Joel’s thigh under the table as he slides into his stool, but he says nothing and doesn't react, though Joel notices the glance and stiffens slightly at first. Tommy just takes a swig of his beer and keeps talking.

While the chatterbox catches his breath and spins a yarn about crossing paths with a mountain lion on their last foraging trip before the snow hit, and his anticipation of the next one when the snow melts, Joel scoops up both their empties and goes to the bar.

It’s crowded, and Ellie and the other lady, Rachel, are busy pouring for the scout team that just came in. You and Cee squeeze in beside him. He catches your eye quickly, of course he does, and you lean over with a salacious grin, stealing the bottle from Ellie's grasp as she’s about to pour in his cup. “What can I get you, handsome?”

“Two more. Pretty thing like you shouldn't walk home alone. When’re you off?” He flirts back with a warmed chest, looking down at your easy smile. He leans an elbow on the wood surface as you snort and watch Ellie pretend to gag and grab the bottle back.

“You guys are gross. Go away,” she mimes a dramatic hurl and you can’t stifle a giggle.

“In an hour or so, big guy. You can walk me home. But don’t let my boyfriend find out,” you nod at Ezra, who is watching your exchange with a bemused smile. Joel smirks and scoops up the glasses.

“I think I can handle him, sweetheart,” he winks at you and goes back to the table, leaving you to wait on your drink with Cee.

He’s drawn into Tommy’s story of the scouting trip today, listening to how he was training some new folks and how they’d taken the west pass through the mountain to check the dam for any issues after a power outage the day before. They’d found a lone infected wandering about, and managed to bring home three deer for the mess hall. Joel is in the midst of fantasizing about a nice venison steak when he hears your annoyed voice cut through the susurrus of the bar.

“Yeah, I don't think so, bud.”

Joel snaps his eyes to you, feeling Ezra’s hand curl back around his knee as if to keep him pinned to the stool.

You are watching one of the scout troupe closely, one who has decided to lean over you at the bar so he can leer at you better.

“Aw, come on, little lady. You’re all dressed for attention, ain’t you?” the guy drawls, making the acne-riddled guy next to him snort into his beer. “I’ll give you some.”

Joel’s hand curls around his glass hard enough to shatter it.

Idiot #1’s spotty friend elbows him and leans in. “You gotta watch out man. That guide today said the town doctor is taken. That's you right, miss?”

“That’s me, but a no should be good enough reason to lay off.” You roll your eyes and shift to turn away and continue having fun with Cee, but the first guy won’t let up. He just gets louder.

Joel's fist tightens on the table. He knows you can handle this. You can. It's the principle of it. You shouldn't have to.

“Ooooh, yeah? You’re the one with that old, mean fella, right? And the one- armed guy? At the garden center,” he laughs with a snide grin. “They share you or somethin’?”

“Hey, she’s not interested, dude. Either quiet down or leave,” Ellie intones, her voice hard. “Either way, you're cut off.”

Ezra presses down on Joel’s leg when he feels the muscle tense. He slides his palm up over Joel’s nape, leans in, and murmurs: “If you go over there and do what you’re wantin’ to do, Sunny or Cee is gonna end up havin’ to patch them up at the clinic. Let me talk to ‘em.”

Joel clenches his jaw but stays in his seat as Ezra gets up. The younger man grasps his shoulder and slides close behind him, between the wall and the stool. “If they decide to ignore my words and get physical, you’re obviously welcome to come have a tussle. But let’s take it outside if so, yeah?”

“He touches any of you–”

“Joel.” Tommy calls his attention. “You’ll take it outside.”

The muscle rolls in Joel’s jaw but he nods.

Ezra squeezes his shoulder again and drifts over to the bar, keeping his eyes on you. Unfortunately, he arrives a moment too late. In the second it takes Ezra to pause and talk to Joel, the guy has already stepped too close again and crowded you against the bar, his hand aiming for the hem of your short little skirt. He manages to get his other hand around your wrist before you yank it back.

"Hey!" You and Cee both exclaim. Cee quickly pulls you out of his reach.

“Hey! Back off,” Ellie grits. She's already slipping out from behind the bar to step between you and him before Joel can even react. He starts to stand and Tommy grabs his arm.

“Let Ezra try,” he says, and Joel growls under his breath.

You slip out of the man’s reach and your jaw tightens. “I said no, dude. Fuck off. Last warning.”

“Oh, and what are you gonna do about it? You and two girls? Town doc doesn't exactly scream fighter, princess. I bet your guard dogs do it for you. Speaking of, I don’t see ‘em? Or are you just the town slut, and two of your regulars are what you’re calling boyfriends?”

Ellie looks mutinous, but before she can cock her arm back to deck him, Ezra grips the guy’s collar and hauls him sharply backward several feet before he realizes what’s happening, giving you room to make an escape. The man crashes to the floor, caught off guard.

“Excuse me, partner. I suggest you turn your attention to me and have a civil discussion, and level your temperament, before you find yourself with a broken jaw, flying outside to bleed in the snow.”

The acne-riddled guy locks eyes on him first, noting Ezra's missing arm. Recognition sparks in his face. “Oh shit. Uh, Ray?”

“Ray?” Ezra sneers. He glances at you, clocking your burning cheeks. It makes his gut roil. You’re more furious (and now embarrassed) than anything, now standing between Joel’s knees. Ezra watches him assess you, his hands and words gentle (probably for the last time tonight) as they cup your chin. He swipes his thumbs over your burning cheeks and folds you into his chest. Ezra can tell that Joel very much would rather be pounding this guy’s face in than simply holding you, but he's waiting for his cue.

Ray has straightened up from where Ezra had dragged him to the floor, spitting curses, and turned to face Ezra. His friend has disappeared backward into the crowd to avoid the pending fight. Hell, half the bar has quieted down to watch.

“Imagine having a nemesis called Ray, soleil.” He winks at you and you grit your teeth against a weak smile at the joke. “Now, mister, I can tell you’re new here in Jackson. I'm inclined to ask you again to apologize for your boorish behavior toward our doctor, Sunny, and change your attitude. She gave you a final warning, and I will not ask again.”

“Oh, are you one of her mutts, then? Girl can spread ‘em for the elderly and disabled but not anyone else?”

“You need to make your way outside, Ray, before it's ensured that you end up with one functional arm, too,” Ezra says.

“I ain't scared of you, or her old man. And I sure as shit ain't scared of some slut who thinks she's too good for anyone.”

The glint in Ezra’s gaze snuffs out as his gaze darkens. “I suggest you find your manners immediately, Ray. You’ll find your way out of this town just as quickly as you entered it, if you don’t learn to manage that temper and hold that tongue. Perhaps even wrapped in a sheet, six feet under.”

“What are you gonna do, huh? Talk me to death, bitch?” Ray comes around and sizes him up, looming an inch or so above Ezra as he stands far too close.

To his credit, and much to do with his rough life before Jackson, Ezra doesn't so much as blink. You feel Joel's fingers tighten around your hips in anticipation. Ezra can feel the violent rage vibrating in the air a few feet behind him from Joel and smirks a little.

He’s got nothing to be scared of, unlike this idiot. He narrows his eyes.

“You are not understandin’ me, Ray. You will apologize to my girl. And then I think you ought to go home and get a good night’s sleep. You found some audacity and anger on the scouting ride today, and harassing the only doctor in town in front of her family and half your own crew ain't the way to go. She could be all that stands between your life and death, and much sooner than you anticipate. You’re showin’ your ass right now, when it’s long past time to turn tail. And besides, I'm not the dog you gotta watch out for.”

“I don't give a shit who she is. I am not apologizing to some snooty whore or her broken, pathetic little cuck boy toy.” He shoves Ezra hard in the chest.

There is an uncanny, absolute silence that happens before a bomb goes off. In the vacuum of noise, for that split second, all anyone can hear through the whole bar is the scrape of a stool across the floorboards.

All Joel can hear is your gasp and his own ringing ears.

Ezra grabs Ray’s collar as he falls, twisting so that he plants a knee on the asshole’s gut when they land. Before Ray can scramble to his knees and ready for another blow, Joel’s already on him.

“Outside!” Tommy commands.

Folks on the street see the pub’s swinging doors fly open and slap the walls as Ray sails clean out of it. He lands a good few yards into the walkway, crashing hard over a wrought- iron table and chairs before collapsing to the snowy ground in a heap. Before he can even scramble to his knees, Joel is on him, flipping him over, and a fist is crashing down on his face.

Joel feels the crunch of cartilage under his knuckles and grips Ray’s collar in his other fist. He shakes the man, straddling him with one knee in the snow and his other boot planted firmly on the other side.

“You touch anyone who's mine ever again; you so much as look at any of ‘em outside of the clinic, and your goddamned head is the only thing comin’ back from patrol next time. I'll stick you on a pike on the Wall. You understand me?” Joel seethes and shakes Ray again, rattling his brain, watching the blood pour out from his split nose and eyebrow, and finally hears the wet gurgle of his frantic yes.

"You say it. Ellie, Sunny, Ezra, Cee. Off limits."

"Off- fuck! They're off limits!"

Ray claws at the meaty hand still fisted in his shirt collar as Joel straightens his spine and turns back to you and Ezra, now watching from the doorway of the bar.

“Which hand he touch you with?” Joel asks you both, his voice raw as gravel and eyes dark with rage.

You shake your head, a tiny frown between your brows betraying your confusion at the question. Ezra flicks his eyes down at the man and sees his ineffectual grappling with Joel’s grip. Ray had used both hands, both when trying to grab you and when shoving him, but Ezra knows Joel enough by now to know what's coming next.

He also knows intimately what it’s like in this world with a limb missing.

“His right,” he says, feeling only a little vindictive. His frustration has not quite tipped over into murderous rage, unlike Joel, who is reigning his in.

Joel huffs an angry, foggy breath and turns back.

“Ray,” he spits with venom. “You’re gonna take your lousy ass home, and splint this your damn self. Same as you would have done before you came here.”

“Wha–AAAAAAH!” Ray screams as Joel takes his hand between his own and swiftly breaks his wrist.

Joel lets Ray flop back into the snow, cradling his hand, and leans in close. “You ain't gonna act like a rabid animal inside these walls. Because I will not hesitate to put you down like one. You hear me?”

“Fuck– yes! Get off me!” Ray yells, nearly pissing himself with the need to get away, his bootheels scraping the snow down to muddy slush beneath them.

Ray flops over onto his belly, army crawls forward out from under Joel with his broken wrist pinned to his chest, and scrambles up and off into the night.

Disgusted, Joel gets up and slaps the snow off his knee. He scoops up a handful of the fresh stuff off a nearby table and presses it to his bruised knuckles.

“How long you got left on your shift?” Joel deadpans at Ellie, a dismissive move to the scene that just took place. People are already drifting back inside, with the action over.

“Uhhh, it’s like an hour til close,” she answers. He nods and waves them back inside with an annoyed look that says let’s get this over with. Cee smothers a smile and turns back into the bar, herding the handful of onlookers who are still lingering away from the doorway. You and Ezra stay on the porch while the girls go inside.

Joel comes up and stands on the step in front of you, flexing his fingers before he hangs them down by his side, curling and twitching anxiously. He flicks his eyes all over you and the muscle in his jaw rolls once.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you confirm, shrugging. “Some grabby asshole isn't enough to scare me. Not here. Ezra?” you hold out your palm and wiggle your fingers expectantly. Joel drops his hand in yours with a fond eye roll, feigning annoyance at your inspecting.

You both look at him and he nods. “I’m okay, soleil. Are you, Knuckles?”

Joel blinks at him and glances at you. You arch a brow at him. “I’m– he shouldn’t have touched either a’you,” he frowns, defensive, ignoring what you asked.

“No, he shouldn't have. That wasn't the question.”

Joel shakes his head. “I’m fine.”

You and Ezra share a glance and you top an eye roll with an arched eyebrow before disappearing inside, which makes Joel frown deeper.

"What?” He snaps at Ezra.

Ezra smirks at him and shakes his head. “She wants me to take you home.”

“We ain't leavin’ the girls here. Not after that,” Joel says flatly.

“I know. But we can wait out here a little bit, let her think I was successful. In luring you home with my wiles, of course. Not with making you see that they’re okay, even without us. If you hadn’t ‘a stepped in, one of our girls would have gutted him. Ellie was certainly ready to,” Ezra huffs, knocking his shoulder against Joel’s.

“Your wiles, hm?” Joel chucks his knuckles under Ezra’s scruffy chin, offering that little half smile before seeming to realize they are outside on the main thoroughfare, in plain sight. He stuffs his fists in his jacket pockets and frowns again, making Ezra chuckle.

“Speakin’ of the damned things- my wiles, that is– who won this morning? I mean, aside from you, who clearly benefited most from our friendly little competition.”

“Jesus,” Joel huffs, shaking his head. Ezra can see the shocked smile curling under the edges of his mustache and in the wrinkles by his eyes. “Sunny.”

“Oh, come now. I’m certain that I am the one who couldn't talk for an hour afterward with a raw throat from all your bucking. There's an alley just there, if you need a reminder.” he gives Joel a shove and the other man snorts.

“I was celebrating finally finding a way to make you shut up.”

“Only if I won, knuckles. Or if I'm next,” Ezra tries to give him a serious glare and dissolves into giggles at Joel’s wide-eyed, surprised, mooncalf look. He laughs harder when Joel shakes his head at him with a scowl.

He lets Joel shove him playfully into a lean against the part of the wall cast in shadow by the doorway loght. He lowers his voice, mindful of the open road and other milling members of the commune enjoying the evening just a few yards away. “Hmmm. I’m chiseling my way through that tough exterior, old man. What’re you gonna do to me when I do?”

Joel flicks his eyes over Ezra’s face, seeing that same goading, happy serenity he saw this morning, framed between his own thighs. He leans in, too close for mere friendship now. Ezra doesn't move, as if afraid to spook him. Joel doesn't think he will.

Not anymore.

Ellie cracked his carefully- bricked- up heart open, and you carved out a space for yourself easily after that. He knows Ezra's right there, ready, pickaxe in hand. His name was on the list tonight that he gave Ray, same as the girls'.

He lets his forward momentum knock him into Ezra, who cautiously steals a swift kiss. Joel lets it linger for a long second. When they pull apart, he finds Ezra's eyes glinting in the dark, honing in on his prey. It sends a shiver up his spine, different from the sort he used to feel, before Jackson. Before Ellie.

“I dunno,” Joel answers truthfully, instead of denying it will happen.

He knows it will.

[scribbling-dragon]

prompt idea: ranchers are very tired from rebuilding their ranch and so don’t think twice about just falling into the (one) bed together

they wake up in the morning Very embarrassed and flustered (and maybe admit some feelings 👀 👀)

moment of peace

summary:

Sleep.

He hums to himself, turning to look at the bed, shoved in the corner of the room, pressed up against the wall and facing the door. He thinks, maybe, it was done so it was in the best and most defensible position, but right now he can hardly think through his sentences without them becoming muddled with exhaustion and confusion.

Sleeping…seems like a good idea right now.

(ao3 link)

(1,839 words)

didnt quite get to the admitting feelings. but they are so somft in this. it's unbelievable (what's also unbelievable is that you wanna reblog this soo bad. ooooh. yeah, you do (is this working?))

His hands ache, dirt caught beneath the fingernails when he turns them over to look at them. He’s almost surprised at the lack of blisters, from the way his skin burns in odd places, just beside the joints, warm to the touch despite the cold evening air. He clenches his hands, watching as they shake for a moment, knuckles turning white, before he relaxes them again.

His entire body feels as though it is weighed down by leaden weights. His shoulders ache from stretching his arms above his head for the whole day, muscles overused from the rebuilding of the ranch. He aches down to his very bones, the ache long-settled within him- he’s been aching since the sun reached its peak, but he hasn't had the opportunity to stop.

The ranch is looking…better. The smell of smoke still fills the air, and he can no longer tell if that’s his imagination, or if the stench of charred wood is simply lingering around the ranch, as though it remains as a warning- a reminder. The grass is burnt and crisp underfoot, of no use to anything they might want to use it for. It spreads, too, a wide patch of browned grass, circling around the entirety of the building.

He pushes the door open, almost tripping over his feet in what could have been his most embarrassing entrance to a room he’s ever made. Tango looks up as he stumbles in through the doorway, bracing an arm against the wall to prevent himself from faceplanting into the floor.

Tango looks just as tired as he feels, ears drooping and tail dragging behind him on the floor, collecting dust and dirt, as though he’s too tired to hold his tail up. Jimmy’s own wings sag behind him, though they're far too short to come anywhere close to dragging on the ground- far too short to be anything but an inconvenience.

He nods in greeting to Tango, feeling far too tired to summon the words to give even the most simple greeting. Simply speaking seems like an insurmountable task, his entire body aching with fatigue as he simply stands there, blinking, and attempting to decide what to do. The ranch is rebuilt- rebuilt as best as it can be with the resources they have, at least. There is a roof over their heads once more, shielding them from the elements, and the holes in the walls have been patched, preventing the wind from snaking in and nipping at their skin as they attempt to sleep.

Sleep.

He hums to himself, turning to look at the bed, shoved in the corner of the room, pressed up against the wall and facing the door. He thinks, maybe, it was done so it was in the best and most defensible position, but right now he can hardly think through his sentences without them becoming muddled with exhaustion and confusion.

Sleeping…seems like a good idea right now.

Yeah. Seems like a really good idea, actually.

He shuffles towards the bed, sinking down onto the very edge of it. It creaks beneath his weight, the bedframe dipping towards the floor as he begins to pull his shoes off, nudging them aside with a foot, before he flops back on the bed.

He grimaces as he lands on his back, face twisting as he lands on his wings. Several feathers twist, misaligned from a long day of being buffeted by the wind. If he thinks about it too hard, which he’s trying his very best not to, he can feel each individual piece of dirt and grain of grit lodged between the feathers in his wings.

He can feel a small pulse of concern and confusion across the soulbond, and he rolls onto his side, completely lacking in grace, turning so he’s facing towards Tango, back to the wall. His partner stares back at him, still stood by the chest he had been rooting through when Jimmy entered.

The tip of his tail flicks across the floor, gathering more and more dust. It’s like…a really large feather duster. But if a feather duster was made from fur rather than feathers. He frowns. He’s not sure what that would actually be called- or if such a thing actually exists. Still, Tango’s tail continues to collect dust, simply gathering it up. He frowns a little deeper, staring at it as it continues to sweep across the floor.

He shuffles down the bed a little, pulling the blanket up from the bottom of the bed, tugging it over his shoulders. It’s a little thinner than the blankets he’s used to, but he cosies into it anyway, tucking it beneath his chin, watching as Tango continues to move idly about their small house.

The sound of shifting fur, the soft sound of Tango’s feet padding over the wood, is something familiar to him. Even with the few days they've spent together, the sound has become something he’s grown used to, listening out for it when they lapse into silence. Tango has a habit of making small noises, filling the silence with small sounds.

The first time Tango made a chirping sound, so similar to that of a cat, he hadn't realised Tango had been the one that made it. Only once an odd feeling of embarrassment that wasn't his own washed over the soulbond, did he realise it had been Tango. He hadn't mentioned it, noting Tango’s slightly red face and tense posture, and leaving it alone.

He hums beneath his breath as he works, too, tail twitching along with whatever beat he’s keeping to in his head. With Tango around, the silent moments are never truly silent- they're quiet moments now, filled with the small noises Tango makes as he works, moving about their ranch.

He allows his eyes to slip shut, tugging the blanket a little tighter around himself, content to listen to Tango moving around. He listens, drifting closer and closer to the edge of sleep, as Tango rummages around in their chests once more, the soft sound of items shifting against each other almost drowning out the sound of Tango’s voice completely, muttering to himself as he looks for something specific.

He’s not sure what Tango mutters, not the specifics of it at least, but the sound of his voice is familiar, something he’s grown used to- grown to expect since they've been partnered together.

As such, it’s easy to fall asleep. Laughably easy, to simply sink a little deeper into the bed and relax, letting everything drift away.

=== === ===

The first sensation that he registers, on the verge of waking up, is that there’s something tickling his face. It’s an uncomfortable sensation, one that makes him squirm slightly in an attempt to escape from the tickling feeling. He stills, rather abruptly, when instead of managing to push himself away from the source of his minor discomfort, he’s instead held in place by a slowly tightening pair of arms, accompanied by a short groan.

That’s enough for him to open his eyes, despite the fact that the sun is barely risen and it's still too early for anyone to be moving about the server. At least, anyone with a little self-respect. People like Pearl are up at all hours of the night, though he’s not sure whether it’s with the purpose of inconveniencing Scott, or simply plain-old insomnia.

Still, he is very much awake right now, and trapped in bed by a slowly tightening pair of arms, keeping them pressed close together.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out that it’s Tango pressed up against him, from both the faint smell of smoke and fire that seems to constantly follow the man around, as well as the faint rumbling that he now knows means that the man is purring. Purring.

Now, they may have shared the same bed, rather happily too, for the past few days. Resources are short, and there’s hardly a point in stretching their already meagre resources even further when they can easily share a bed. It had been more convenient at that point, too, with the thin blanket only providing so much warmth, a shared space made it so that neither of them froze their fingers off during the night.

But there had always been a clear divide between their spaces. It wasn't one marked out with pillows, as he has heard people sometimes do - they don't have the resources for that many pillows, either - but simply an unspoken boundary, one that neither of them were willing to cross in fear of what may happen afterwards.

But…he finds himself oddly content like this. Tango has made a rather valiant attempt to smother him completely in his sleep (another point in the nether-cat theory column), and is clinging to him like a limpet to a rock. He can also feel Tango’s tail curled around his calf, the furred tip flicking back and forth idly, brushing along his skin.

If it wasn't for the deep, even breaths he can currently feel brushing against his neck, he’d think the other was awake, but lying just as still as he currently is to avoid waking the other up. But, no, he can feel Tango’s face pressed into his neck, can feel the way the other man shifts and breathes and twitches in his sleep; both of them pressed so closely together that they fit easily onto the single bed, legs tangled up in each other.

It’s actually rather comforting. This small moment of respite amongst the pain and horrors of these games. This brief moment of peace, when everything else is chaos and fire and blood. It’s something he hasn't experienced since the first game- since the first run-through of this song and dance. But the peace then had been derived from their naivety- their lack of knowledge as to what the game truly meant, what would follow once they began turning on each other. The second game was haunted by the ever-looming threat of one of your closest allies turning on you, waiting for the moment you turned your back and found a knife buried in it.

And yet, here, he finds himself comfortable in this moment of peace. It isn't blanketed by naivety, or tainted by distrust of all those he surrounds himself with. Instead, it’s something small and comforting. Something that he might not pay attention to, were they elsewhere. But here, in this moment, he feels entirely at ease.

Perhaps the knowledge that Tango could not- would not, turn on him is what eases his mind so gently. Or, perhaps, it is the simple fact that he can feel his heart thrumming just beneath his skin, and, if he concentrates, can feel another thrumming just beside it, beating to the same rhythm.

He closes his eyes again, curling closer to the warmth that Tango radiates. The soft smell of fire and brimstone hang heavy in the air, yet it’s so incredibly familiar when it comes to Tango.

Five more minutes won't hurt, certainly.

[succubusphan]

The Knight of Wands

Summary: Phil had always had dreams that he couldn't quite comprehend and a certain intuition about what was truly important for his future.

Rating: G

Tags/warnings: No warnings that I can think of. Psychic Phil, fluff, yearning.

Author's Note: This fic was written for @ttlmt for the Phandom Fic Exchange! Hi Bee! I hope I did your prompt justice, it was very very fun to write and even though it isn't really that long I put a lot of care into it. Enjoy!

There is a video linked at the bottom of the post or on the final notes in ao3 you may light. I found it hilarious and very helpful for the story.

Thank you @effingmeteors for being my life saviour and beta as usual.

Word Count: 3.7 k

Read on Ao3

1995

“Where is your bear, Phil? Where is your bear?” Asked Phil’s mum in the video, baby Phil not knowing the answer yet.

Phil kicked his feet as they dangled from his chair. He really liked watching his baby videos even though he was now 8 years old. He sipped on his hot chocolate and added even more marshmallows, suddenly staring intently into the cup and wrapping his hands around it, enjoying the warm feeling.

He grabbed his dream journal and wrote down “Warm” at the bottom of the list. He didn’t really know what it meant exactly, but he knew that the items on the list were related somehow. He had decided to write it in his dream journal because he could sometimes see them in a dream. Well, not actually see them, but - he didn’t know. It was like a feeling, like he knew this person, but he also knew that he didn’t know the person.

He read the list over, trying to piece the puzzle together. 

Bear

Malteesers

Coffee

Will  Wheel

Warm

His grandma had said that he would know in time, but he wanted to know now! Now! Now!

Letting out a sigh, he fished one of the marshmallows from his mug and ate it happily.

“Phil! Don’t eat too much sugar or you won’t be able to sleep tonight!” his mum called from the doorway to the kitchen.

“I need it to think!” he whined.

“Dinner is almost ready!” 

“I will finish it, Mummy! Promise!”

She just shook her head and went back to making dinner.

Phil popped the last scone loaded with clotted cream and jam into his mouth and smiled. Still trying to chew around the big piece, he hopped from the chair and went to switch the video cassette for the ThunderCats one. He made sure to put the tape with his baby videos safely back in his personal collection before hitting play.

As soon as the song came on, he started running around the dining room, swinging an imaginary sword around, yelling “Thunder! Thunder! ThunderCats Ooooh!”

He ran another lap around the room until he was met face to face with the mirror and paused. After staring at himself for a moment, he decided that to truly become a ThunderCat, he needed something, but what could it be? Phil paid attention to his face and if he focused, he could almost see a glimpse of cat whiskers coming out of his cheeks in the reflection. He gasped, happy to have figured that out and made a quick run up the stairs to his bedroom and returned with a black marker. 

It took him almost until the end of the song, but he managed to finally look like a cat. One day he would add a sword to the costume, but for now, he felt at peace.

“Are you done, Child?” his mum asked. “Oh! Who’s this?”

“I’m a cat!” said Phil, showing her his claws.

“Oh my!” she said, opening one of the drawers in the china cabinet and pulling the camera out. “What a handsome and brave cat you are!” She snapped a picture.

“Could I get a sword for my birthday?” Phil pleaded.

“We’ll see, love.” She always said that when the answer was no.

Phil pouted but rushed to his chair and drank more hot chocolate. He looked at the opposite side of the table and saw someone sitting there, or the idea of someone. He smiled. “Mum?”

“Yes, Phil?”

“Will I ever have a best friend?”

“Of course! Everyone has a best friend,” she assured him.

“I can’t wait!” Phil said, and added cat whiskers to the list.

---

1998

Phil opened his birthday present and smiled when he saw the Final Fantasy VII game he’d asked for. He was going to enjoy it so much!

He had dreamed about this game for long, even longer than it had been out to the public. It was as if the game was calling to him. For some reason, it felt important to have an item from his list; and he had added "FF" to his list months ago.

He waited until all his school friends had gone home and started the game. After losing three times in a row he decided to watch Buffy instead, but his eyes kept escaping back to the game case on the floor.

His dreams that night were plagued with dark brooding men dressed in black, but Phil wasn’t scared; he knew they were friendly.

---

2005

Long gone were Phil’s magic dreams. He still loved his grandmother, obviously, but repeating things she had told him always got him in trouble, or mocked by his friends, so he had eventually stopped trying to connect with that side of himself.

It was as if he had lost a part of himself, a part of him he didn’t know he loved so much until it was gone. He knew it was the right choice for him, his so-called gift hadn’t done him any favours. 

Nowadays, Phil felt nothing but sadness when he opened his old dream journal and saw the list of things that had no way of being related to each other. The last additions had been only drawings: a few sticks in an orange background and a weird circle with mixed colours. Nothing made sense.

None of his friends were a good fit, and, if he was honest, he didn’t even know if this person existed or not.

He was leaving for Uni soon and his mum had asked him to clean his room out and throw away anything that he wasn’t using. So Phil stood by the bin he’d placed in the middle of the room, contemplating his life and trying to decide what part of his childhood he wanted to discard forever. 

He looked at the journal in his hand. It was stupid, but he couldn’t just throw it away. Instead he walked over to his bookcase and removed 4 random books, setting the journal flat against the backboard and putting the other books back in their place to conceal it.

Nodding to himself, he continued rummaging through his very messy room. He groaned as he stuck his hand under his bed and touched something sticky; it was all the uneaten candy he’d accidentally dropped, melted by the passage of who knows how many months. He would need to get his shit together or his future roommates would kick him out for being a pig - if the ants didn’t eat him before that.

Then he came across his tiny lion plushie and smiled before putting it in his bag. Lion was definitely coming with him.

---

2006

Phil was back in his room, in the comfort of his family home and somewhat inspired by this new website called YouTube. His friends said he had a bit of a problem with social media because he was constantly on the internet, but everything was just so fun. The idea of uploading a video of his own had been floating around and around in his head for a while, but when he opened a new box of cereal and was met with the prized prize of a black and white little camera, he took it as the ultimate sign that he should do it. 

His first Videoblog was a bit all over the place, but that was just who he was. If he wanted to make new friends, what a better way to go about it than to show who he really was, right?

Once the video was recorded, it took him a full day to edit and upload it but it was worth it. He got some comments and video replies immediately! He even got his first subscriber!

Posting that video had definitely been a good idea, no matter what his mates said.

---

2009

Phil’s YouTube channel was quite a passion project for him and he tried his best to continue posting regularly even if he never lost focus on his studies. Uni was obviously more important, but since he would be majoring in video post-production and visual effects, he could pass it as a learning experience.

In February he received a package from his grandmother with a cryptic message. Among the usual ‘take care, be careful and avoid being run over on the 10th of this month,’ she also added her tarot cards with a note that read ‘Use them well.’

He didn’t exactly know what that meant, but in the spirit of being his true self on camera, he decided to talk about the psychic side of his family in a video, passing it as a funny thing more than something that had been a bit of an obsession all his life.

To downplay the importance of tarot reading in the video, he called it “Robot Death Machine,” referencing the electric heater he’d had to rely on because the heating was broken again, instead of anything related to divination.

To begin, he shuffled the cards a bit and laid his hands on the full deck, trying to really focus on transmitting his energy into it. He looked up at the camera and said “Edit that out.” He would pull three cards: one for the past, one for the present and one for the future, with the little booklet with the meaning of each card firmly at his side. He truly needed it, because despite his grandma’s protests, he had never learned that by heart.

He looked into the camera as if he had just begun touching the deck. “My grandma is a psychic and apparently she could have passed the gift on to me, right? Who knows! So let’s look into my future. I’m going to do the following month, so I’m hoping this month will be good.”

“Before this month: it’s the Nine of Cups reversed!” He pulled the card and showed it before reading the meaning. “I was vain, complaisant, over-sentimental, and careless - and I neglected my partner,” he said, wincing at the implication. He didn’t think he had neglected his cheater ex boyfriend, if anything it had been the other way around.

He pulled another card and looked at it. “Currently, the Three of... Swords. Currently I’m entering into a dangerous three-way relationship where heartache is inevitable for one participant - or all.” Wow, he hoped that was not the case; he had enough drama in his life as it was. “Minor surgery is possible. That doesn’t sound good!”

He moved along and pulled the last card, a bit disappointed with the results of the reading so far. “The future: ‘the Knight of Wands. Some guy is going to have a big impact, an energetic warrior, he has a hasty personality and he’s very quick to love or hate.”

“Hmm. Interesting,” Phil said, chewing the inside of his cheek. “I’m glad it wasn’t, like, death! And, okay, I’m gonna go eat some crisps,” he laughed at himself. “That’s the first thing that came to my head. No! I’m gonna go change the world in ways you would not believe!” 

He waved and stopped the recording.

He sat back against his bed, thinking for a moment. Could it be? He would have to watch out for any new person coming into his life for the next month or so. It could definitely be something, but given that the first 2 cards made no sense, he didn’t have high hopes.

He grabbed his phone and called his grandmother just to be sure.

“Hi!” he said as soon as she picked up.

“Hello, Darling. Did you use my cards?” she asked, not wasting a single second, probably because she already knew he had.

“Yes. I have a question about what came up. The first two cards I pulled made no sense but the third one - I don’t know.”

“What cards did you pull?”

“Uh,” Phil hesitated, looking down at the floor. It was the Nine of Cups, reversed. Then I got the Three of Swords.”

“You were in a relationship, were you not?” 

“I was...” Phil said. “But they cheated.”

“Well, there’s the neglect and the love triangle.”

“Oh,” Phil said. “And the Knight of Wands?”

“Was that the last one?” she asked and Phil could swear he heard the smile in her voice.

“Yeah. I don’t think I know any energetic warriors.”

“Perhaps not yet, but you need to pay attention. The Knight of Wands is a very charismatic person, adventurous, competitive, a fiery lad; the salamanders in his coat mean he's resistant to flames.” 

“What does that mean? Is he a firefighter?” Phil laughed, not missing that the 'he' came from her first. 

“You are taking the cards literally, Philip,” she said, not appreciating the joke. “And I do warn you, the Knight of Wands… He may not be one to settle down, not at first.” 

Phil frowned. “Who is this guy?” 

“You were calling him, weren't you? For a long while now?” 

Phil couldn’t breathe. He blinked repeatedly and coughed. “This month?” he croaked. 

“Not necessarily, but it could be. You need to look at the signs.” She waited patiently for him to process what she had just unloaded onto him. 

“Is this a friend or…” 

“That’s for you to decide. You will have to be patient with him, with both of you.” 

Phil groaned. “Thank you, Grandma.” 

“Of course!” she said. “You need to trust yourself. Even if you don’t want to share your gift with anyone, don’t try to smother it. It will hurt you.” 

“I - Alright. I won’t,” Phil said. “See you soon?” 

She laughed. “See you on New Year’s Eve,” she said and hung up.

Phil stared at the cards and began to put them back into the box one by one, just as he had picked them. He closed the box and instead of returning them to his desk, he put them in his backpack. Better to have them close.

--

By April, and with no news from this ‘Energetic Warrior,’ Phil had decided to move on and focus on the people that were actually making an impact in his life in the present.

It was exciting to interact with the people that watched his videos, especially as he started to be able to differentiate between them. A guy kept replying to his tweets and commenting under his videos with a random username and he looked cute, or at least that’s what Phil could tell from his profile picture. 

Phil tried to be friendly and treat everyone the same, giving them the same time and attention, but Dan (danisnotonfire) just kept trying to get Phil’s attention, always being one of the first to reply to his tweets, commenting on his YouTube videos, and even pointing out all the things they had in common, such as their love for Muse and the movie “Children of Men.” 

It seemed that Dan was determined to be his #1 fan at all costs. When Dan tweeted Phil saying he had a crush on him, Phil finally caved and decided to snoop around. After scrolling on Dan’s twitter profile for about an hour, Phil was set on getting to know him. He sounded like a fun guy and his observation about everything they had in common was fairly accurate.

He decided to follow Dan back and drop him a direct message. 

“Hey :) ” Phil typed, considering his next words carefully. “How are you doing?”

“omg! hi phil!

i can’t believe you followed me back! O__0 ” Dan said.

Phil bit his lip and typed a reply. “Haha why not?”

“i don’t know XD

you are so cool and i’ve been watching your videos for a logn time :] ”

“I think you’re cool too! ^.^ 

What’s your favourite Muse song?”

“ugh, don’t make me choose X__X”

“Come on! Mine is Newborn, or Exogenesis and Muscle Museum 

Those are my top 3”

“i hate you :/

i guess if I had to pick one it would be Citizen Erased”

“That’s a good one” Phil wondered if it would be too forward to ask Dan, but if he got too into his head nothing good would come of it. He had never been one to hesitate a lot about things. What could go wrong after all? 

“Hey, do you want to chat on skype?” He hit enter and waited for Dan’s reply eagerly.

“yeah! add me &lt;;3 

i’m danisnotonfire there too”

“That’s a cool username

How did you choose it?”

“it was a random string of words I came up with a few years ago lol”

“Hahaha valid :) 

See you on skype”

---

September 2009

After days and eternal nights of non-stop chatting, Phil decided to invite Dan to his parents’ house. They had gotten to know each other enough for Phil to be sure that Dan was not a serial killer - probably. 

Not that it mattered, because Dan had yet to accept his invitation.

And even though they had often been flirty during their calls, Phil wasn’t sure if they would have the same chemistry in person. If their meeting went well, it would be the first time Phil had successfully transitioned from an online friendship to a real life one.

Somehow, this felt so different than anyone else he had met before, more important. Dan was special, and just being able to talk to him made him incredibly happy.

In October, after weeks of pestering Dan, he finally accepted his invitation. Apparently, Dan had been saving ever since Phil had invited him and wanted to surprise him which made Phil blush and smile like a crazy person.

When October 19 finally came, Dan took the train to Manchester, where Phil was already anxiously waiting for him. Seeing Dan in the crowd, walking towards him and the hug Dan pulled him into was something that felt so familiar yet groundbreaking, and Phil had no way of explaining it.

Just as the sun started to set, they got on the big wheel when as their cart made it to the top, Dan kissed him, the remnants of the last sun rays setting the mood, and enveloping Phil in a warm feeling. He felt like his stomach was flipping over and he knew then that he couldn’t deny having feelings for Dan.

After frolicking around town, they headed home and filmed a video for Phil’s channel, which they were both super excited about. At one point, Phil saw Dan going through his stuff and stopped the recording to check what was catching Dan’s attention.

He had started pulling books out of the bookcase that hadn’t been touched in years.

“What’s that?” Dan asked with a curious smile, making the cat whiskers on his face curl upwards.

“What?” Phil asked.

“There’s something in the back. Is it your porn stash?” Dan smirked.

Phil snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s where I keep it!”

Dan grabbed a purple sparkly notebook with childlike scribbling on the front. “Dream Journal”

“Oh,” Phil said, feeling a tug in his stomach. “I hadn’t thought about that in a while.”

“Can I read it?” Dan asked.

“I guess? I don’t think there’s a lot in there,” Phil said, pulling at the hem of his shirt when chills ran down through him.

Dan sat back down on Phil’s bed, his back against the wall, legs pulled to his chest and bottom lip burrowed between his lips. “Oh, this is interesting. You dreamt about meeting shadow people a lot.”

“Yeah,” Phil said, swallowing thick. He kneeled on the bed and shuffled closer to Dan to read from above.

“What’s this list?” Dan asked, tapping on the last page Phil had ever filled.

“Just things that used to... catch my attention.”

“Bear. Did you know my family used to call me Bear when I was a kid? My grandma still does.”

“I - no, you hadn’t told me,” Phil said.

“Malteesers? Obviously! They are the fucking best. Coffee? You have a real problem with that if you started having coffee at this age.” Dan laughed.

“I didn’t!” Phil laughed along as everything started to slot into place. “Starbucks,” he mumbled under his breath. “Wheel. That’s where…” he trailed off.

“Will? Oh, Wheel!” Dan laughed. “You had a little problem with spelling, I see.”

Phil scoffed. “Shut up!”

“Hmm?” Dan asked, but his eyes were trained on the list. He was barely paying Phil any mind. “Worm?” Dan raised his eyebrows, finally looking up at Phil.

“Warm! That’s an A. I was a kid, don’t judge. I was having hot chocolate with marshmallows when I wrote that,” Phil said, waiting for Dan to say anything that would confirm his suspicion.

“What does that have to do with warm?” Dan asked. 

Phil shrugged. “I - I don’t know. I liked the feeling of warm things against my skin.” 

“Cat whiskers. Well, we have those on already.”

“Do you know what these could be?” Phil asked, pointing to the drawings he didn’t even understand.

“They look like Muse albums, sort of? Wait, when did you do these?” Dan asked, his brow burrowed into a frown.

Phil’s mouth fell open. He got up and brought Dan the Tonberry plushie he had purchased as a gift for him weeks ago, Christmas surprise be damn. “Final Fantasy,” Phil said.

Dan finally set the journal down on the bed and opened his gift. “This is my favourite character!” Dan looked incredibly happy.

“Yeah,” Phil said. He shuffled the things on his desk and found the tarot card set his grandma had sent him. It didn’t take him long to find the card he had been looking for. He grabbed the journal and slid the Knight of Wands card inside, closing it and returning it to its hiding place.

“I don’t understand what the list was about,” Dan said, still clutching his gift. “Those are just things you liked?”

“Something like that,” Phil said.

Dan raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t keep secrets from me, Phil Lester.”

Phil shrugged. “It’s the recipe for the perfect best friend, I guess.”

“Get out,” Dan said with a laugh and threw the Tonberry at him.

Phil knelt on the bed and pressed their lips together, smiling into the kiss as Dan pulled him closer, smudging their cat whiskers. He had finally found the person from his dreams, his best friend, his Knight of Wands.

Final Author's notes: I referenced this video for the tarot card and I would advise anyone with a few minutes to spare to watch it and marvel at how fucking accurate this card is to describe Dan. I found it hilarious. Maybe Phil is truly a psychic. VIDEO.

[bolithesenate]

3, 9, 10, 16????

3: NOTP

i was HOPING someone would ask this so I could drag some things through the mud :3

number 1, uncontested and undefeated,is, has been and will always be: Obitine. you can hunt me with this shit, I'be never seen a canon pairing with less chemistry.

Maybe except number 2: anidala. I just.... no. i don't get it. never have never will. mainly bc I simply dont get how anyone could ever look at Anakin and think "ooooh yeah, imma FUCK THAT" (specifically the character. he is just such a walking red flag its unreal)

controversial, but I also don't like Codywan (and Jangobi is VERY hit or miss at this point as well)

but yeah, those two are ships that WILL break interest in a fic for me even if everything else is right up my alley.

9: Fic rec!

I have so many, honestly, but there is ONE i will ALWAYS shoutout at this point bc it was FORMATIVE for me and my desire to write crack.

old, unfinished, about ocs but so, so , SO dear to my heart:

Adventures of the Galaxy's Most Idiotic Trio (by hikikomochi)

PLEASE give it a read, it is SO FUNNY

10: fanart rec!

THIS dunmeshi piece lives in my head rent free (you didn't give a specific character so I chose)

Honestly tho, the dunmeshi fandom is hands down UNRIVALLED in the fanart department. you go sceoll the tag and it is jus BANGER after BANGER after BANGER after BANGER

so good

16: do ppl irl know I participate in fandom

yea

i famously told my old boss about the existence of ao3 (and that i wrote fanfic)

i've read some of my fanfiction to my mom

i've told most of my friends i'm writing fanfic and some of them have a link to my ao3.

Honestly, it's one of my main hobbies. Cringe is dead and i get joy from it so i don't see the point of being hish-hush about it. if ppl are interested in what I write I show them.

(i think it helps that i've always been a weird girl and vocal about it. and that most of my friends also are weird, in their own regard. shoutout to my friends!!)

[lake-archive]

Track 1

Fandom: Hypnosis Mic

Series: Rap God O

Characters: Sasara Nurude, Original Character (mentioned)

AO3 Link

Track List - Track 2

“Hey, Nurude–San, you've heard of what's going on around here recently?”

Honestly, outside of the usual Sasara had not noticed anything off. Then again, it was usually straight to work and then back shortly after. His work is fun but busy all the same. And he had other things to worry about at this moment. And yet, when this worker at the TV Station continued speaking it had caught his attention. In fact, what he was saying may as well have been a sick joke on its own. That it would slip through the cracks so easily was an even bigger irony. And yet, it didn’t sound too far fetched, not really. There were punks around who loved playing around here and there so maybe it was not that much of a surprise. Well, this fact as a start but how this continued forward was the true irony here.

“There’s this crazy guy roaming the streets taking out one crew after the other! Got quite a few people knocked out already!”

“Ah, is that so?”

“Yeah! And apparently he’s been on the loose! No one’s seen him before and he appears at the most random spots in town! Ya think they’d catch him by now. Guy’s so much of a freak he’s got those cat ears.”

There it was, the odd thing. It may have been straight out of a gag manga itself because… This had to be a joke. Or maybe it was just the mere word ‘cat’ getting him a little curious. Then again it sounded so surreal, it was almost funny again. 

Sasara had taken a sharp turn with his head at that moment, right to the worker to face him, still believing his own ears had tricked him at this very moment. “They’re searching for a guy with cat ears?” He asked, just wanting to check if his hearing had not deceived him. Then again, he wasn’t that old! His hearing should work just fine, shouldn’t it?

“Yeah. Any crew you can imagine wants to battle this guy. He’s wiping them out left and right. All by himself!”

“All alone? He’s got no back up?” That was… Something on its own. And honestly, that was odd. Was there really someone so powerful? This smelled fishy… Very fishy. Yeah, there’s gotta be something very fishy about this. Especially if it was a no name.

“No. He’s going solo.” 

“What’s his name?”

“Uhm… No one’s sure but he introduces himself as ‘O’.”

O going solO… Oh what a name, who wouldn’t be at the brink of snickering? “Ooooh, got it~”

“Hey, does your group have any intention to battle him? Ya gotta show him who’s boss!”

“Haha, it’s the first time I hear about this buddy. Who knows~”

“Oh c’mon. If anyone can beat this O guy, it’s you guys!”

It was indeed the first time Sasara had heard about ‘O’. The name alone was great material, he had to admit. And the guy sounded like an absurd existence on his own, suddenly popping into existence and causing an entire catastrophe across Osaka. A classic. 

Is it worth looking into? Of course it is. There was no reason not to. And yet, it also meant to spot this solO rapper or lure him out if all else fails. But there was little to go off… Cat ears… That’s it, really. So if he was to look on his own, he would have no results. And thus he would and will have to rely on someone to help him! And he just knew the man!

Rosho surely heard of it before! Yeah, absolutely! The students should have plenty of info. Might be one of the rumors floating around on campus after all.

As for Rei… Uh… Who knew where this old man was at this point. That guy likes to appear and disappear whenever he wants so it was best to not rely on him. Maybe he has heard but was his information reliable? Hard to say… Well, he was still part of the team so if he shows up— Yeah, if he shows up. There’s no punchline here.

Besides, why not take it as an excuse to freshen up on some skits? This could be the change of pace needed for exactly just that! Such a chance doesn’t present itself everyday. This might be the one in a lifetime opportunity in fact! How absurd can this get? There’s only one way to figure it out!

Uncover the mystery surrounding the One and Only ‘O’! 

Track List - Track 2

[overobsessedfanboy23]

Ice Cream For The Ice Queen

Surprise! I ship Rio/Trey! Or Michael as I call him in this because that's the easiest name to use in writing. Fanfiction below the read more, AO3 link if you prefer:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50793400

Description: Michael and Rio get ice cream together. Totally just as friends.

“Hey…” Michael’s voice was small as he entered the living room, spotting his two older brothers on the couch. He placed his backpack on the ground before asking, “Chris, Thomas… Can I um… can I have some money?”

“What’s the money for?” Chris asked, not looking up from his phone.

“Ice cream,” Michael answered, stepping closer with pleading eyes.

Chris sighed, digging through his wallet for a few moments before handing a small stack of yen.

Michael counted out the slips. “Oh uh…”  His voice was small and hesitant. “I need a little more than that actually.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “That’s just enough for one cone, isn’t it?”

“Has the price gone up?” Thomas butted in, leaning forward on the couch. “Or…” He smirked. “Are you getting ice cream for a friend?”

“I…” Michael  let out a sigh. He’d already been caught, no point lying now. “Yeah… I… offered to buy ice cream for Rio and I.”

“Ooooh!” Thomas shot to his feet. “Mikey’s got a girlfriend!” he teased, ruffling his younger brother’s hair.

“Hey!” Michael ducked and shooed his brother away with a grunt. “I do not!”

Even as he said it though, his face flushed at the memories of Rio calling him the sweetest guy she knew when they hung out with their friends or ate lunch together in the cafeteria.

Chris chuckled into his hand. “About time you asked that girl out. You’ve had that crush on her for weeks.”

“I-it’s not a date!!” Michael exclaimed. “I just asked her if she wanted to get ice cream together after school. I never imagined she’d actually say yes but I never said it was a date so it’s just a friendly thing in her eyes- and mine too! She and I are just friends.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “And you’ll stay that way unless you tell her how you feel.”

“Fine by me. I like being friends with Rio. I don’t need more than friendship. So…” Michael held his hand out expectantly. “Can I have that money for another ice cream, Chris?”

“Sure.” Chris handed Michael another stack of yen, just enough for another ice cream cone. “Have fun on your date.”

“Thanks…” Michael turned away, pocketing the cash. “Still not a date though.”

“Would be if you weren't a coward!” Thomas called after Michael as he pushed himself out the door.

Michael rolled eyes but didn’t retort. He simply closed the door behind him and hustled back to school ground, heading toward the bench outside where he’d agreed to meet up with Rio. Sure enough, the blue-haired girl with impeccable style was on that bench looking through her cards.

“Hey, Rio,” Michael greeted with a wave.

Rio looked up from her cards, a smile instantly forming on her face. “Hi Three!” she greeted, shuffling her cards back into her deck.

“Sorry I took so long. Had to swing by my place to ask my brothers for money. Are you ready to go get ice cream?”

“Yeah.” Rio hopped to her feet.

Michael was about to start walking when Rio grabbed his hand, charging forward. He yelped and quickened his pace. If not for her holding his hand, he would’ve fallen behind almost immediately. Thankfully, she slowed down after a bit. Michael avoided Rio’s gaze, his face reddening as he fully took in the fact that she was holding his hand, and that her hand, despite being really cold, was also quite soft…

“So uh…” Michael tried to fidget with the hand Rio was holding and ended up rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. His breath caught in his throat but he forced himself to continue. “What flavour are you gonna get?” he asked, turning to her.

“Hm?” Rio looked at him, confused.

“Um… I uh…” Michael could barely think as he gazed into her eyes. “I asked what flavour of ice cream you like. I personally like strawberry.”

“Well… I’ll get blue raspberry if they have it. That’s my favourite, but it can be kind of hard to find. So I usually just get vanilla.”

“Blue raspberry, huh?” Michael tilted his head to the side. “I don’t think I’ve heard of that.”

“Yeah, I guess it’s just rare,” Rio shrugged, letting out a sigh. “It’s made from blue raspberries.”

“Those are a thing?”

“Think so,” Rio broke into a chuckle as she added, “Unless I’ve been lied to all my life.”

Michael chuckled into his hand. He couldn’t think of a response as his gaze was suddenly fixed on Rio: her flowing blue hair, her big pink eyes, and that smile, usually so fierce and competitive when they duelled, now soft and contented.

“Hey?” Rio waved her hand in front of Michael’s face. “Earth to Three, you in there?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Michael let out a chuckle to hide his nerves. “Sorry. Just… I couldn't think of anything else to say.”

Rio snorted with laughter. Michael and Rio both came to a stop when they finally reached the ice cream truck that had parked off the side of the road.

“Hi.” Michael walked up to the truck, digging through his pocket to retrieve his yen. “Do you have blue raspberry ice cream?”

The man behind the counter nodded. “I do.”

“Yes!” Michael cheered to himself before going on. “One blueberry raspberry for Rio. And I’ll take a strawberry one.” He slid the yen onto the counter, smiling and silently hoping he had enough to afford the two ice creams.

The man counted out the cash. He slid the cash into a drawer and began scooping pink ice cream into a cone. Then blue ice cream into another.

“There you go,” he handed the two of them their cones.

“Thanks sir!” Michael instantly took his cone in both hands, licking up a bit of ice cream.

Rio meanwhile took a bite of hers. “Want to find a place to sit?” she asked through a mouthful of ice cream.

Michael stared at her in horror. Not because she was talking with her mouth full, not because she was the prettiest most talented girl Michael had ever seen, but because she had <i>bitten</i> into <i>ice cream</i>.

“Sure.” Michael’s voice trembled as he answered.

“Great!” Rio slid her fingers into Michael’s hand, prying it free from his ice cream cone as she tugged him again. “That fountain should do!”

Michael simply let Rio tug him along toward the fountain in question. She released his hand, sitting on the stone edge of the fountain and taking another bite of ice cream. Michael sat beside her. Beside them, the water of the fountain produced the most soothing sound as it flowed from the centre into the pool below. Michael watched it with a smile as he licked his ice cream.

“It’s so pretty,” he sighed, “The fountain I mean.”

“Yeah…” Rio turned to the fountain as well. Then a smirk grew on her face and she plunged her free hand into the water.

Michael raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

“Fishing for coins!” Rio answered, flipping around so that her legs were now submerged in water too as her free hand slid around at the bottom of the fountain. She scooped any coins she found onto the fountain beside her.

Michael blinked. “But… isn’t that stealing?”

“Sh.” Rio shushed him, pressing her finger to his lips. “People threw out these coins willingly so clearly they had change to spare.”

Michael bit his lip. “I… I guess…”

He watched Rio fish for coins for a bit before deciding to join her. Keeping his eyes on the ice cream he was licking up bits of, Michael slid his hand around in the water, either flicking coins towards Rio to scoop up or taking them in his fingers and placing them beside him.

Rio scooted closer as she fished, her face suddenly pressing up against Michael’s shoulder. Michael froze up, his eyes wide. Rio’s hair was brushing against his cheek and her head moved up and down against Michael’s shoulder, as though she were intentionally nuzzling it.

Michael let out a squeak. “U-uh… Rio…?”

“Yeah?” Rio sat up, holding a pile of coins in her free hand. She met his gaze with a smile.

“U-um… nothing… nothing…”

Rio shrugged and went back to fishing for coins, her face on Michael’s shoulder again. Michael didn’t bother fishing. He just looked at the fountain and leaned further into Rio. She let out a small chuckle. Right as Michael looked at her, Rio leaned closer and licked Michael’s ice cream.

“Hey!” Michael exclaimed, yanking his ice cream away.

His movement was so sudden that he flopped backwards toward the water. Rio’s hand surged out to grab his shirt just in time. She stared at Michael, whose hair and back were being lapped at by the surface of the water while his one arm stretched out to hold his ice cream cone as far away as possible, before suddenly bursting into laughter. Rio tugged him out of the water, making him squeak.

“Th-thanks!” Michael exclaimed, shifting to sit up properly.

Rio nodded in acknowledgement before taking a bite of ice cream, a smug smile gracing her face as she replied,

“No problem, Three.”

Michael frowned. “But did you really have to steal some of my ice cream?” he asked, licking at his own ice cream.

Rio shrugged. “Aw, come on. I barely licked it.” She suddenly held her blue ice cream in front of his face, making his eyes widen. “But… if you really want, I can let you have some of mine.”

Michael blinked. “W-wouldn't that be like indirect kissing though?”

“O-oh?” Rio’s face reddened. She chuckled, stroking her cheek with her finger. “Did I do that? I… I guess I kinda did, huh?”

“You’re just realising?”

“Uh…” Rio gestured to her own ice cream again. “Wanna indirect kiss me back?”

Michael stared at her, wondering for a solid five seconds or so if he had heard her correctly.

“U-um… would it… would it be weird if I said yes?”

Rio let out a small chuckle. “No, I’m literally offering it.”

“U-um…” Michael leaned a bit closer. He paused for a moment, needing Rio to nod reassuringly before he gave the blue ice cream a small lick.

“O-oh wow!” He pulled away, his lips automatically twisting up into a smile. “That’s… that’s a really unique flavour…”

“Yup.” Rio pulled her ice cream back toward herself and took a bite of it. “That’s why it’s my favourite.”

Michael licked his own ice cream. His heart was beating out of his chest and his feet tapped anxiously against the ground as he tried to act natural. 

“Doesn’t that hurt your teeth?” Michael asked, breaking the silence.

“What? Biting my ice cream? Nah, I bite ice cream and popsicles all the time. I even chew on ice sometimes. It’s no big deal,” Rio remarked as she took yet another bite of the ice cream.

“Heh…” Michael smiled a bit. “I-I guess you.. You really are the uh… the ice queen, huh?”

Rio snorted with laughter, rolling her eyes. “You’re lucky you’re cute, otherwise I’d shove you in the water.”

Michael blinked. “W-what?”

Rio leaned closer, smiling in a friendly yet somehow simultaneously evil way. “I said I’d push you in the water, Three. Do you wanna be pushed in the water?”

“Not while I’m eating ice cream,” Michael insisted, brushing his fingers through his hair.

Rio scooted closer, nudging Michael’s shoulder. “So… implying you’d be fine with me pushing you in the water any other time?”

Michael blinked. “Do you… just want to go swimming or something?”

Rio let out a snort, suddenly giggling into her hand. “God, you’re so cute, Three.”

Michael’s face flushed. “Y-you can… you can call me by my real name…” He looked away the instant he said it, shuddering a bit. Was that… too personal for them? “I-if you want…”

“Oh, sure. So Michael, wanna have our next date at the beach?”

“Our next what?” Michael exclaimed, whipping around to meet her gaze with wide eyes.

Rio stiffened. “Wait what?”

“You…” Michael stared disbelieving at her. “You called it a date.”

“Was… was that wrong?” There was a twinge of hurt in Rio’s voice making Michael flinch.

“No!” He exclaimed instantly before rethinking it, hastily adding, “I-I mean d-did you, did you want it to be a date?”

“I thought THIS was a date!”

Michael flinched so hard he dropped his ice cream face down on the ground. “What?!” he exclaimed a little louder than he would’ve wanted to, considering they were in public. Michael inwardly hoped no one was staring at him.

“Well…” Rio got to her feet, making Michael look up to hold her gaze. “I’m just a little hurt by that, not gonna lie.” Her tone remained light and playful. “I mean, gosh, you really think a girl would offer you an indirect kiss if she weren’t interested?”

Rio suddenly leaned so close that her hair drifted over Michael’s shoulders and he could feel her breath on his lips. Michael shuddered but didn’t break eye contact.

“O-oh…” Was all he could manage to say.

“I mean, come on, how much more obvious do I need to be?” Rio asked, tilting her head to the side.

It was likely just an unconscious expression of her confusion but leaning this close, it wound up placing her lips, still smudged blue from her ice cream, very very close to Michael’s lips.

Michael gulped. “Rio… may I kiss you?”

“Yes, dumbie.”

Rio suddenly grabbed his shoulders, leaning close enough for their lips to brush. The taste of blue raspberry exploded on Michael’s lips. With a deep shaking breath, Michael closed the gap, kissing Rio back, who hummed with satisfaction.

“So…” Rio pulled out of the kiss, grinning ear to ear. “I’ll ask again. Want to have our next date on the beach?”

Michael nodded. “I think… I think blue raspberry just became my new favourite ice cream flavour.”

[tonnerredebrest]

Mick with Angie and Roscoe, that's I don't have anything else.

Ok, I can do that! I love how Mick is a dog dad, and also the first F1 driver featured on Roscoe’s Instagram!

Let's assume Mick is talking to Angie in German here, even tho I wrote in English. Sadly, I'm not confident enough in my German to try to write in Goethe’s language. 

(I am also not an expert in dog behaviour. AO3 link at the bottom, as always.)

*****

When Mick found Roscoe in the paddock at the English Grand Prix, he was more than delighted. 

“Roscoe!” The driver almost squealed, running to greet the dog.

The latter joyfully barfed, wagging his little tail. 

“Hey, man. Don't pull too much on the leash,” Lewis joked, enjoying seeing how his dog was fond of another driver. 

Roscoe didn't seem to care about that comment. The Haas driver got to the dog’s level and started to gently pet him. Roscoe seemed to tremendously enjoy the pats, as he was always looking for more. 

“Who’s a good boy, eh,” Mick used that baby voice pets seemed to like. “Ooooh, you very good boy.”

Roscoe barfed happily, trying to lick the human's hands. Mick chuckled, Roscoe’s rasp tongue was tickling him. He spend another couple of minutes playing with him, will Lewis was filming. 

“He likes you, man,” the Mercedes driver said as he was sending the German pics and videos. “I didn't see him being this playful with anyone in the paddock.”

“I guess it's because he smells Angie on me,” Mick shrugged, not having really been thinking about it until now. 

“She’s your dog, right?” Lewis asked, as he had heard him mention her a few times before. 

“Yeah, she's my best friend!” He beamed just by thinking about her. “You’ll see her in Austria.”

“Can’t wait!” The Mercedes driver said, putting his phone back in his pocket.

Roscoe could only barf in agreement. 

-----

Mick was getting tired of all this climbing. The team had told him it would be a little walk, but he should have anticipated a little walk in the Alps won’t be on a flat road. He didn't take his mountain shoes, so he was afraid he’ll slip on some wet grass or stone. Yet, seeing Angie happily wagging her tail, going on the trail before him, made this whole operation more than worth it. 

“Angie, wait for me,” he said between uneven breaths. “You’re far more faster than me here.”

The dog continued to walk at the same speed, making Mick smile. She was glad to explore new environments, and he could always catch up when she’ll stop to sniff a flower or other plant. Behind him, a Haas mechanic laughed at the interaction. Mick didn't mind, he knew people were sometimes surprised to see him talk to Angie. She was his best friend, how could he not speak to her?

“Careful, there’s a ravine not far,” the mechanic warned, and Mick nodded. 

Yet, he didn't call Angie back. She was a smart girl, he had educated her well. He was sure she won't fall. 

They continued their merry way up the mountain until they reached what seemed to be the top. The view was beautiful. From up there, they could see the valley and the track. Angie was carefully stepping on the stones, sniffing around, maybe to find some sunbathing lizard. 

Mick took out his phone to take some pictures. They were beautiful, but something was missing. 

“Angie, come here!” He called her, and she came as fast as she could. 

The dog was wagging her tail, giving him puppy eyes. She wanted some head pats, and Mick couldn't refuse. 

“Oh yes, who's a good girl, you're a good girl Angie,” he still baby-talked his dog, even if she was years out of her puppy phase. 

That evening, the team photographer, who was also part of the expedition team, send him some pics. They were all of him and Angie, with the beautiful Austrian Alps in the background. Mick realised what was missing in the photos he had taken. His best friend wasn't in them. The driver smiled and chose one to put on his phone’s lockscreen. That way, Angie would always be with him.

-----

Mick had decided to take Angie with him to the French Grand Prix. France wasn't that far from Switzerland, and he knew she'll get a kick out of exploring a new paddock. What Mick didn't know, is that Lewis had the same idea, as he brought his dog with him. Mick saw Roscoe in the distance, and couldn't wait to go to him. Yet, he had to say a few things to Angie first. 

“Angie, Roscoe is coming. Please be on your best behaviour,” the driver was on his heels, in front of her, and she took it as an invitation to try to lick his face. 

Mick giggled, before gently pushing her away. He loved his dog, but having her saliva on his face wasn't something he appreciated much. 

“Hey, Mick!” Lewis called, Angie’s ears immediately darting towards the newcomers. “Good to see you, man.”

As the humans went for a polite hug, the two pets looked at each other curiously. They hadn't met before, but they had smelled each other on their respective human’s clothes. Roscoe barfed, going closer to the bigger dog. Angie inclined her head and sniffed his fur. Then, something Mick couldn't see must have happened, as the two animals start wagging their tails and playing with each other. 

“They seem to like each other!” The Haas driver pointed out. “Maybe we should go outside to unleash them.”

“Good idea, man.”

The two drivers made their way toward a rather empty patch of green/yellowish grass outside the building. There, when they were sure nobody was around, they unleashed the pets, who immediately started running. Mick was so happy that the two dogs liked each other. It would have been a hassle if they didn't. 

They left the dogs running in circles, joyfully chasing each other. Angie was far bigger than Roscoe, but she was gentle with him, making sure she won't crush him. Roscoe seemed ready to pounce on her, playfully wanting to fight. He tried to make Angie fall, but he miscalculated her stature, and instead, he fell on the ground. They continued to play like that for a while, under the attentive eyes of their owners. 

After some time, Mick’s and Lewis’s phones rang. They had to go to the driver’s meeting.

“Roscoe! Angie!” The German called them back. “We have to go!”

Immediately, two cannonballs were coming for him. Mick didn't have the time to get up from his heels, and the two dogs came pouncing on his chest. The German giggled. 

“Angie! Roscoe! Don't drool on me, please guys!” Mick was chuckling while trying to get the two little demons off him. 

Lewis was plain out laughing on the side, not even thinking about helping Mick. 

“Lewis! Come on, do something!”

The Mercedes driver’s laugh only doubled, and Mick abandoned his fight. He let the dogs lick him. After a few seconds, they seemed to have enough of him. They just settled on his chest, apparently thinking Mick was a good human pillow. The German was happy there, and not even Lewis taking a picture of him didn't worsen his mood.

*****

[skyward-floored]

When you find a really good novelization of Majoras Mask and you realize it’s really well written, 600k words, complete, AND has a well made audiobook on YouTube!! I must be dreaming!

I have read so much fanfiction when I look through ao3 with filtered tags I noticed I have read them all, so I went hunting for novelizations on Fanfiction.net and fortunately there are loads of them on there!! After this read I’m going to look for a windwaker or skyward sword novelization. But here’s the one I’m reading now!

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6429588/

It’s simply called Majoras Mask and written by FakeJake93 if the link doesn’t work.

It’s really good as far as I’ve read and the way things are written are so cute and clever. It also has an audiobook so you can listen to it while doing work or whatever. Anyways figured I’d share because I was so excited for a good read like this one!

Ooooh, I love a good novelization! I’m not done playing through Majora’s mask yet myself so I think I’ll save it for later to avoid any spoilers, but thanks for the rec!

[phlebasphoenician]

I posted 3,860 times in 2022

14 posts created (0%)

3,846 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@greencuttingmat

@emilx311

@tanuki-kimono

@artbythedarkside

@phlebaswrites

I tagged 3,855 of my posts in 2022

#not mine - 3,589 posts

#but i love it - 3,293 posts

#naruto - 1,929 posts

#fanart - 1,744 posts

#naruto fanart - 1,642 posts

#uchiha madara - 593 posts

#senju tobirama - 436 posts

#senju hashirama - 357 posts

#uchiha izuna - 347 posts

#hatake kakashi - 270 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#i want to meet the jōnin housing interior decorator. who is the one who designs these apartments. what are the principles they use going in

I sent 2 gifts in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

ohh ☕️ Coffee Shop Au for Madara/Hashriama

ooooh! Okay this is a fun one!

I think Hashirama would be the most silly, but also unintentionally flirty barista ever. His coffee would taste like heaven, but he's forever sticking his foot in his mouth - yet it's done in such a genuinely nice way that people don't get mad at him about it.

Tobirama is endlessly baffled by this - he insists it's magic.

And he's right.

It is.

Because every cup that Hashirama makes lifts people up and brings a little bit of good into their lives - he lives to help people. In turn, when he touches them, he gets a little bit of information about them. It's often garbled and hard to interpret, but he gets them in a way most people don't.

It also makes him a fantastic matchmaker - if he touches two people that he knows will fit, he'll try and bring them together.

But Hashirama has one customer who always comes to the shop, but never drinks the coffee.

Madara is a tea person, and he always asks for just the tea leaves and a pot of hot water. He steeps it himself, everything.

Now how is Hashirama supposed to work magic with that?

He's a coffee guy! All of his teas are store bought! What! Madara wants to drink that stuff when Hashirama is right here offering the best coffee ever????

He doesn't get it.

Until the day when Madara orders the tiniest cup of espresso, touches his hand for the first time, and says...

"I've been looking for you."

And Hashirama knows that he's found the man of his dreams.

4 notes - Posted September 10, 2022

#4

10 Characters, 10 Fandoms, 10 Tags

Thank you for the tag @heyitswrenn!

Naruto - Tobirama

Hikaru no Go - Tōya Akira

Pet Shop of Horrors - D

Inception - Arthur

The Witcher - Jaskier

The Lord of the Rings - Éowyn

The Hobbit - Bilbo Baggins

The Authority - Jenny Sparks

Old Kingdom - Lirael Goldenhand

X-Men - Mystique

Tagging (but only if you want to play!) @artbythedarkside, @momo-ceros, @shinigami-mine, @swiftfrost, @mooshi-png, @woofgang69, @heyitswrenn, @silverutahraptor, @greyduckgreygoose, @awfulloneliness

4 notes - Posted September 4, 2022

#3

Can you put a link of your masterlist?

I can indeed! It’s my AO3 profile.

I’m afraid I don’t post my works anywhere else, even Tumblr only gets snippets. 😅

I try to keep things relatively tidy there by organising them into different series, so you might find that a useful guide. With 160 stories, I know picking through all of them can get a little much! Let me know if you’d like a generalised summary of what I’ve written to date, I’m always happy to talk about my writing.

However, if you prefer Tumblr and you’d like to keep up to date with my writing - and my writing only - I do have a sideblog for that - Phlebas Writes.

And, if you’d like to watch me write in real time, then you are very welcome to join my server on discord! 💚

6 notes - Posted May 14, 2022

#2

Fic Rec!

I highly recommend Snapdragon and Crane by the astounding @good-grievance​.

It’s a beautiful, lyrical story about the difference between being a good shinobi and a good person, and the long slow journey to peace.

6 notes - Posted April 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

17 notes - Posted August 2, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[themarydragon]

(anon from the modern au ask here)- ooooh so SOON soon!!! and so many words ahhhh!!!!! I am excitement!!! also thank god i had the sense to ask for an ao3 invite ages ago so no issues there, looking forward to a new notif from my subscription to you <3 (side note, the last notif was that fantastic update to born a storm, which is such a great companion to trouble the water, I love your link voice in that so much <3 )

Hello, thank you, and I love you.

I guess I didn't realize AO3 was still operating on invites...? I've been there so long, I guess I just assumed you could sign up for it now.

SOooo... I already have my older stuff locked to users, but I should probably post this as open to everyone, with the warning that I'll eventually lock it to registered users so people who want it have a chance to get their invites.

[cozy-the-overlord]

Sending this to my favorite mutuals. You have worked so hard and gave us wonderful stories and content. You are loved. You are appreciated. Have you drank your water today?

Show off a little! Because I would if I were your fantastic self! 😍😍😘

1. Which one of your fics/art piece is your favorite?

2. Which one of your works did you think was going to be a hit, but didn't do as well as you'd hoped?

3. Which one of your works did extremely well, beyond your expectations?

4. Which one was the first fic/art that you shared?

5. Which one is your latest?

Oh my goodness, thank you so much! I was genuinely so excited to see this when I woke up this morning!

After lengthy consideration, I'm going to put this under a cut lol

Ooooh this is hard ... there's a couple that I really like. Crimson Curls is definitely up there because I have been trying to write murder mysteries forever, probably since I was an elementary school kid reading Nancy Drew books, and that was the first time I actually completed one in a way that holds up to me. I'm definitely proud of the first chapter-- I think I really got the whole "true crime podcast" feel down for it. I'm also super proud of A Breath and A Whisper, which is unsurprising given that it's another mystery. I had always wanted to write a ghost story and I was really happy with the way that turned out-- I'm hoping to be able to outdo it for this Halloween, although I realize I probably won't have time to finish the story I want to write in time. Also Attached and Severed-- I think I'm the only person who read those (which I get lol) but they are literally the imaginary world I used to play in as a little kid brought to life, and so that's very exciting and special to me.

Fractured, 100%. Looking back, I understand why-- it was the companion/sequel to a oneshot that had been out for a year, it's more focused on an OC than Loki, and it's a two parter (in retrospect I really should have stuck to my instinct of keeping it as one part). But at the time, I thought it would be really big. Whole is still one of my most successful stories on AO3, and I had gotten more than a few requests to write a sequel/continuation to it, so I had really high expectations. It took a year to write and I put so much effort into it and was really proud of it, so it kind of hurt when it got very little interaction. But that's just the way the cookie crumbles.

Probably Orange is the Happiest Color because that was such a goofy idea that I wrote for kicks and giggles and then it became my most interacted fic on Tumblr for months lol. In general though I tend not to have a good track record for guessing what will be popular-- fluffy, more lighthearted stuff tends to do super well, but since I don't really like reading or writing that very often, I'm always surpised when my fluffy fics get a lot of attention. Likewise, I always expect my angsty stuff to do much better than it does because I love writing it and put way more effort into it 😂

If we're talking fanfic, then Until Tomorrow, which was an experiment for me to see if anything would happen with it lol. It didn't do super well when I first posted it to tumblr, but it got a good amount of interaction on AO3 which was really exciting and inspired me to continue writing fanfic. If we aren't talking fanfic, the very first thing I posted to tumblr was an original story that I was very proud of when I wrote it but now physically cannot read because I hate it 😂 I won't link it but it is still on my masterlist .... along with several other old cringy original things lol

A Friend From Work, which I wrote for the lovely @naterson's birthday in June ... it's been a bit lol. This summer was kind of rough mentally and I had a lot of writer's block as a result of it, which was disappointing because I had such big plans for the stuff I wanted to write this summer. I do have one finished story that I'm trying to decide on when to post, and I have a couple others in various states of completion. I've also been outlining a massive Halloween fic, which I am very excited for but I don't know if I'll be able to write now that the semester is here (I'm doing an honors thesis this year so I fully expect a writing burnout). Still, I hope I can finish it because it's a really cool idea

Thanks again for this ask, this was so much fun!

[deepspacedukat]

Hello! I hope you are doing well today ☺️ I would love a Gul Macet fic 👀 maybe he meets an lt on the enterprise and it can go from there? Fluff or otherwise, I can also give more detail if needed i don't think I've seen a fic for him yet so 😂

Ooooh! I love the sound of this! The most undignified sound just came out of my mouth when I read what character this was for. I hope you're doing well today too!! And thank you for the request! I hope I can do it justice! (Sorry this took so long. The prompt sort of ran away with me lol.) Cross posted to AO3 here.

If anyone wants to be added to my taglist or wants to submit a fic request, my ask box is always open! If you want to know whether I write for a certain character, have a look here. If the character you want isn't on the list, I probably just forgot to add them, so please feel free to ask.

This is the first installment of “The Trager’s Gul” - a series about Gul Macet. Links to the rest of the series can be found below.

Risa Is For Lovers

Mesmerized

The Cove

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

Peace Talks And Other Diversions

Gul Macet (ST:TNG) x Reader

[A/N: I don't really have any notes but! Cardassians! :3 ]

Warnings: Mentions of battles? Cardassians engage in a bit of posturing when they flirt, so...posturing as flirting??? Little hint of spice. Just a tad implied. Also Data is Data...

~*~

A week of travel along the Cardassian border saw the Enterprise meeting up with a ship we’d seen once before. The Cardassian ship Trager under the command of Gul Macet was holding position with us as a delegation of officers transported over for the latest in a series of peace talks. There was already a treaty between the Federation and Cardassia, but some of the finer points were still under review by both sides. Given that Captain Picard was one of the Federation’s best diplomats, it made sense for him to be given this assignment.

In Starfleet formal wear, the Captain, Commander Riker, and Counselor Troi all stood in the transporter room awaiting the signal from the Trager. Standing behind the transporter controls, Mr. O'Brien and I worked side by side on a final check of the transporter system. He could have done it himself, but he knew I was curious about the Cardassians. The Captain did raise an eyebrow when he saw me, but offered neither comment nor question when he saw I was in the appropriate formal uniform. After a few minutes, we received a message from the Trager stating that Gul Macet and his party were ready for transport. Moving out of the Chief's way, he beamed the delegation aboard. When the Cardassians materialized, my eyes fell immediately to the one in the center. All three of them were impressive, but there was something different about him.

"Gul Macet, it's a pleasure to have you aboard the Enterprise again, especially since these are much happier circumstances than our last meeting," the Captain said extending his hand in greeting to the very Cardassian I had been fascinated by only a moment before.

"Indeed, Captain, I'm glad that we are no longer under the threat of imminent combat. Perhaps this time, we shall be able to take a bit more time to get to know each other," the Gul said grasping the Captain's hand cordially.

"You remember my first officer, Commander Riker, and my ship's counselor, Deanna Troi," the Captain said, and the Gul greeted them both with a polite nod of his head. "And my transporter chief, Miles O'Brien, of course."

The Gul gave him a respectful nod and let his eyes slide to me, obviously expecting an introduction. As I wasn't meant to be there in the first place, however, the Captain provided none.

"You'll remember my aides, Glinns Daro and Telle," he said as the two men stepped forward. After the Captain had greeted them both, Gul Macet stepped over to stand on the other side of the transporter controls directly in front of me. "And who might you be, my dear?"

"Lieutenant (y/f/n) (y/l/n)," I answered with a polite smile. The Gul took a cue from our own Captain and held out his hand to me in greeting. I took it in my grasp and noted the small smile that stretched across his lips. "Welcome back to the Enterprise, sir."

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Macet smiled just a little wider before the Captain spoke up.

"Gul Macet, my senior staff and I have arranged a formal dinner in honor of your presence on the Enterprise and participation in these diplomatic talks," the Captain said in his most official tone. The Gul nodded his head and turned back to me.

"I trust you'll be attending as well, Lieutenant?" At the Cardassian's question, I could do no more than blink owlishly. I hadn't been invited, but I also didn't want to risk disappointing a diplomat.

"If you desire her attendance, then, of course, the Lieutenant will be there," the Captain said after a moment, ending my internal struggle.

"Excellent. I look forward to the pleasure of your company this evening," he said with a little wink. "Now, I think it is time for me to get my mind off of recreation and back to business."

"Of course. Commander Riker will show you to the conference room," the Captain said, and soon the transporter room was empty save myself and O'Brien.

"Well, yeh were curious about the Cardassians. Looks like you'll get teh observe 'em closer than yeh thought," the Chief said with a smile. "Better you than me."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I deadpanned before heading off to complete the rest of my duty shift.

--

Later that evening, I donned my formal uniform once more and made my way to Ten Forward where tonight's dinner would be held. I hesitated in front of the door for a moment, wondering if I should have delicately declined.

"It is normal to be nervous, Lieutenant," a cool voice called out, and I turned to see Data a few feet from me. "I am correct about your current emotional response, am I not? Your hesitation suggests that you are preoccupied."

"Yes, Data, you're correct. I've been to formal events before, but none that I wasn't originally invited to. I suppose I...feel a bit like I'm intruding where I don't belong," I said hoping that I was explaining myself well.

"You are not intruding. The Captain would not have extended an invitation to you at all if he truly felt you did not belong," Data said analytically. After a momentary pause, he placed what I assumed was meant to be a comforting hand on my shoulder, then headed inside himself. I took a deep breath and straightened up before going inside.

Servers were mingling with crew members as they offered the contents of their trays - at the moment that appeared to be liquid refreshments. I snagged a glass of a syrupy liquid from a passing server with murmured gratitude. This must be Cardassian kanar. Moving to a quiet corner, I observed the mix of senior staff and Cardassian guests with interest. There certainly was a fascinating contrast between our two crews. I could see now more than ever why Data enjoyed observing social interactions from the sidelines as he was doing tonight.

"Ah, here you are. I was beginning to believe that you weren't coming after all," a familiar voice called from a small cluster of people near the starboard window. Turning to see who was receiving such a joyful greeting, I found Gul Macet's eyes fixed on me. Beside him, the Captain raised an eyebrow, but excused himself to go mingle with one of the Glinns. As I began to approach the Gul, a smile stretched his lips. "May I say that of all the guests present tonight, you are by far the loveliest."

My cheeks heated up at his words, and I took a reflexive sip of my drink as I searched for the right words. Bad decision. The kanar was surprisingly strong - it nearly brought tears to my eyes.

"Th-That's very kind of you, Gul," I said as I struggled to hold back a cough. I tried to make it look as though I wasn't having trouble, but from the amused gleam in the Gul's eyes, it's safe to say I wasn't doing well.

"Call me Akellan. I assume this is your first time drinking kanar?" He asked offering me a gentle smile.

"Yes, it is. I-I didn't think it would be quite so strong," I said clearing my throat as quietly as I could manage. He let out a small chuckle.

"It does take some getting used to. It is rather an acquired taste. Your Earth drink...champagne, I believe? That was equally surprising for me. The bubbles add an...intriguing sensation," he said gesturing to his own flute. I appreciated his effort to make me feel more at ease, but before I could say so, the head server entered and announced that dinner would be served. "I wonder if you would do me the honor of sitting with me, Lieutenant? If you have arrangements already, I understand, but if not, I would very much enjoy the pleasure of your beautiful company."

"The honor would be mine, Gul," I said, and he raised a hand.

"Excellent, but please, call me Akellan," he said before offering me his arm. With a confirming nod, I placed my hand on his arm and allowed him to lead me to the table. "May I call you (y/f/n), Lieutenant?"

Since he was again within earshot, the Captain gave me a look of what I interpreted as amused surprise.

"Of course you may," I answered as we both took our seats. Deanna was seated directly across from me, and she gave me a rather knowing smile. Given her empathic abilities, she was no doubt able to sense my curiosity and attraction toward Gu- Akellan. Akellan. He told me to call him Akellan. I had to remember that. The servers got to work ensuring we all received food, and they got a resounding 'thank you' from all parties involved. A few minutes into our meal, conversation was flowing easily.

"Gul Macet, I hope you're enjoying this visit to the Enterprise better than your last," Counselor Troi commented, and without missing a beat, Akellan nodded his head and glanced between myself and Deanna.

"Oh, undoubtedly. The view is much more attractive than before," he said turning to me and tossing me a wink. I averted my gaze with a shy smile and noticed Data looking rather confused. He looked to Commander Riker who was taking a sip of his drink.

"Sir, as the foremost expert present on human and interspecies mating rituals-" Riker nearly spat out his drink and his eyes widened. "-would I be correct in assuming Gul Macet's statement to be a flirtatious one?" Deanna tried very hard to hide her smile as she patted Riker on the back to ease his coughing. Riker's cheeks were bright red as he struggled for words, but he was saved by an amused laugh from the Cardassian next to me.

"Ah, I see. Well, you and my cousin Skrain have something in common then, Commander," Akellan said with a bright smile. "He's a bit of a...oh, what do you call it in your language?"

"A ladies' man?" I suggested, and Macet placed a gentle hand on my arm.

"Yes, indeed. A ladies' man. Thank you, my dear," he said, and Data still looked a little confused. "To answer your question, Mister Data, yes. My comment was meant to be flirtatious. The Lieutenant is a rather beautiful young woman. Surely you can't blame a man for enjoying the company of a lovely lady. In fact, I rather think that pleasant social interaction was the point of this event between our people."

"It is, sir. I meant no offense. I am intrigued by social interactions and study them whenever possible," Data said with an innocent sort of frankness. He'd always been so kind to me, and I know he truly hadn't intended for his words to cause any problems.

"Then I hope we will prove to be worthwhile subjects," Akellan said before someone changed the subject to the peace talks. The rest of the meal passed without anything of consequence transpiring, and when a few members of the Enterprise crew and some of Gul Macet's officers began to retire for the evening, I stood to take my leave as well. The Gul stood as well and offered me his hand. "May I escort you back to your quarters, my dear?"

"O-Oh, I couldn't possibly inconvenience you like that-"

"Indeed you couldn't, for the simple reason that it would be no inconvenience at all. It would be my honor," he said with an encouraging smile. In full sight of the Captain and the senior staff, I placed my hand in the Gul's. We bade the remaining officers a good night and made our way to the turbolift. When the door slid closed, Gul Macet turned to me and stepped closer. “Your fellow officers were jealous of me, especially Commander Riker. The look he gave me as we left was positively feral.”

“I highly doubt that. He and the Counselor are sort of an item-”

“Would it surprise you to know that I am jealous of the rest of your crew?” Akellan asked in a quiet, serious voice. I could do no more than blink in surprise. “It’s true. They get to be around you and work with you every day. They get so much time with you...yet mine is limited.”

Taking a chance, I placed my hands on the chest plate of his armor and stepped closer, hoping that I wasn’t reading all this wrong.

“Then we’ll just have to make the most of the time that we do have,” I responded quietly, and the slow smile that crossed his thin lips was all the warning I got before he leaned in and kissed me.