#at this point i’m half tempted to delete the entire thing so people leave me alone

[thewolveswolf]

Girl please it's been almost 2 months feed us🥺we are hungry for a London libraries and love update

this is such a shitty fucking message to send

1. i have pretty bad PDA so congratulations on setting that off, delaying the chapter even more

2. literally disabled, SO sorry i can’t move at the speed you want me to

3. do not call me girl

[rhysismydaddy]

Unholy Matrimony Pt. 1 (Nessian)

Nesta’s part of the Damnation Series.

OOF this took so long sorry. I rewrote it, changed it, then deleted it entirely about 9 times. I literally started writing the version before you, from scratch, on Sunday. All parts are linked below, so I’m only tagging people on this version! To go to the next chapter, there is also a link at the bottom <3

ALSO, an important caviat: Nesta is an only child in this one! I originally wrote it for her to be adopted and not know it, but it wasn’t really relevant to the story, so... idk. Just ignore that plot hole I guess.

Parts 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 -- pls like each part I’m insecure

______________________________________________

~Cassian~

“You’re getting married.”

The glass of bourbon halfway to my mouth pauses, because despite being known for being rash and unpredictable, even I’m surprised by the sudden change in conversation.

My eyebrows raise as I look over at Rhysand, my best friend and Capo, trying to figure out if this bastard is serious. His tone says he is, but that doesn’t make sense, because before a few seconds ago, the word “marriage” was in neither of our vocabularies.

He’s been single for as long as I have, although I’m starting to suspect he’s got a bird in the city. He’s too damn happy these days, and the other day I saw him laugh at something on his phone.

Which is weird, because we both know long-term commitments don’t really do well with our lifestyle.

We were raised to not give a shit about anything except the job. We kill without remorse, live in the shadows, and whatever other shitty euphemism you want to use. Settling down in some suburban, picket-fence prison has absolutely no appeal to Made Men.

Don’t get me wrong, most of us get married at some point. But never for love.

Some men choose a bride that’s pretty and sweet. Someone who will donate to charity and help clean up their image. Governors’ daughters, women from old-money families, and social princesses make up this category.

Some men marry to advance their station in the Family. Second sons who will never inherit the business marry daughters of Underbosses to get a nice boost to their status.

And then there’s the ones who are forced to marry by their capo--ie. me-- so they choose whatever attractive woman that’s in the Family and available. Those are always the happiest.

But regardless of the reasoning, marriage in the mafia is heartless, political, and for me, unnecessary.

I know I’ll have to pick someone eventually, but there aren’t a whole lot of desirable options at the moment. Not many of the other Underbosses have daughters that are over the age of fifteen right now, and I have no interest in doing the child-bride thing.

Plus, there’s no way I’d marry someone outside of the family. At my rank, it isn’t an option.

That leaves... a widow?

The only one I know is Ianthe, and considering I highly suspect she killed her last husband and the fact that she’s crazy, there’s no way in hell I’d legally bind myself to her for life.

So he must be joking.

I take a pull from my cigar and look over at Rhys with narrowed eyes. “Uh huh. Sure. To who, exactly?”

“Volchonok.”

The Wolf Cub.

The cigar snaps in my fingers.

“You’re fucking kidding,” I say, honestly hoping that’s the case. He’s either that or insane, and I’d hate to lock someone who’s like a brother to me in a padded room.

Rhysand’s unflinching gaze doesn’t change, but his tone morphs from that of my friend to my boss. “You will marry her, Cassian.”

“She’s a fucking Russian,” I spit, not understanding. That should be reason enough for him to be joking.

In our world, being Russian is a crime similar to stabbing the Pope.

We’ve been at war over New York with them ever since they decided to try and get a stronghold on the east coast, and I’ve killed more of them than I can fucking count. Now I’m marrying one?

“Yes, she is, and so is her father, Alexei Olov.” Aka the Bratva Boss responsible for blowing up half of St. Petersburg last year when the local police refused to buy his weapons. “You will marry her, move to New York full time, and run the city with her by your side.”

“Why? Two or three more years, and we’ll have the city anyway.” Every day the Russians get weaker, and I’ve been responsible for pushing them out of my city block by block.

So there has to be a reason we’re suddenly okay with the enemy.

Rhysand sighs. “It was his idea, not mine. Orlov has agreed to sell our coke in Moscow and Seattle instead of his usual dealer and will supply us all the weapons we need for five years. There will also be no more midnight raids, bullshit arrests on bullshit charges, or missing shipments. He’s offering you a dowry, too.”

I don’t need his money, but the old fashioned term makes me laugh.

“Yeah? And how much does he think his wolf cub is worth?”

His lips twitch. “Ten million.”

“She must be a real pain in the ass, then, if he’s going to pay me that much to take her,” I chuckle.

Not that ten million dollars is anything but pocket change for the man. Orlov may be losing the fight in New York, but the bastard is richer than sin. 

Selling arms to half of the entire world will do that to a person.

“I hear she’s beautiful,” he says, trying to tempt me to not fight him.

“Then you marry her,” I shoot back, not ready to give up the argument.

“I don’t feel like it.” Fucking typical. Rhysand sighs. “You and I both know we can work this deal to our advantage, so what will make you say yes?”

He could order to me to say yes and I’d have to, but he hates enforcing that kind of authority with me.

So I think it over, make a show of lighting a new cigar. “I want Sera.”

It’s a burlesque club in New York I’ve always been a little envious of, owned by Orlov and operated by his men. I’d tried to buy it a few years back but hadn’t had enough leverage on the Russian to strongarm him into selling.

Now I do.

Rhysand--the only one who knows about my failed attempt to buy the place--nods and tells me he’ll make it happen.

“When’s all this happening, anyway?”

He looks like he might laugh. “Wedding is in a month, but she’s flying in tomorrow night.”

A quick laugh forces its way out of me. Also typical of him to give me absolutely no time to change my mind.

Well, I have a month. That’s already longer than any relationship I’ve ever had. 

Sighing, I stand and shake his hand, cementing the deal before I can even lament the loss of my bachelorhood.

~Nesta~

“Chto sluchilos?”

I slide my gaze to my father, because seriously, that’s the stupidest fucking question I’ve ever heard. 

What’s wrong? What’s wrong? Everything.

“Nichego,” I lie, assuring him for what feels like the tenth time as I look out the window. The plane picks up speed and lifts off, taking me towards an uncertain future, an uncertain place.

I might have told him nothing’s wrong, but inside, I’m screaming.

Three days ago, I woke up to find a marriage contract on the pillow beside me. There was a blank space where my name had been typed and a pen waiting for me to remedy that.

I still haven’t.

I’m not signing anything until I meet this... Cassian. 

God, what an Italian name.

An image springs to mind, one of a slumped-over, hairy-chest beast with slicked back hair and a gold chain. 

I know it’s stereotypical and hopefully incorrect, but I’ve never been to Italy and Alexei strictly forbids me watching movies that portray Italians as anything except revolting. 

But looks aside, there’s one thing I don’t need to guess to know. 

My future husband will be like all the other men in my life: controlling.

Men in the world I live in take what they want, don’t ask for permission, and feel like they’re entitled to anything and everything. I’ve dealt with it my entire life, so it’s more amusing than anything at this point.

I guess I’m a bit non-traditional in that sense, considering most of the women around me have no problems taking orders from their fathers or husbands. But Alexei and I figured out pretty early in life that wasn’t going to work for me.

As he frequently likes to tell me, I started telling him to fuck off when I was five.

What did he expect? All the kids I hung out with were the opposite sex and at least five years older than me, so my vocabulary and mannerisms became pretty... colorful early on.

Regardless, I’m just not looking forward to having to deal with yet another man who thinks he can control me.

“Ty vresh',” Alexei accuses, lips twitching. You’re lying. 

“Konechno.” Of course. 

Of course I’m upset, but I understand what’s happening. I might have found out about it three days ago, but I’ve known it was coming for far longer.

As the only child of the great Alexei Orlov, Wolf of Moscow and Pakhan of the Russian Bratva, I’ve been told my entire life that I will one day be used as a pawn to gain more power.

It would--should--piss me off, but I’ve also been told I’m to one day take my father’s place and run his company.

So by gaining more power for him, I’m also doing the same for myself.

Not that I really give a shit about that kind of thing. I started officially working for Alexei years ago, and I already have enough money saved to never have to work again. 

But in the Bratva, there’s no getting out. I was put in this world by birth, and the only thing that will take me out is death. 

In case it isn’t obvious, I’m not a typical business woman. 

My father is an arms-dealer. 

A less than legal one, if you believe the heinous lies the media spreads about him.

He sells weapons to governments, private armies, and whoever the fuck else has the money to buy. 

He’s also built himself a shipping empire to haul said weapons around the globe, runs the drugs and prostitute rings in Moscow, and has enough real estate to rival most small countries.

It probably sounds like I don’t care, and that’s because I don’t. 

I like what I do in the sense that I have a mind for business. I went to business school and graduated at the top of my class, and I enjoy running the clubs and hotels I have. Trained by Alexei himself, I’m ruthless in negotiations, enough so that people started calling me the Wolf Cub by the time I was twenty. 

But despite being good at it, I’m not particularly fond of the aspect most people think of when they picture my career in the Bratva. I detest drugs, have never hired a prostitute, and don’t really enjoy selling arms to bad people. 

The alleyway meetups, the broken bones and bullet holes, and the blown up houses are all a little tiring to me.

Sure, it sounds exciting. And for a while, it was. I used to lose myself in the chaos, used to enjoy coming home with busted knuckles. But I honestly just got tired of it.

Right now, I don’t have to deal with it as much because Alexei’s still alive. But when he dies and I officially take over the family business, I’ll have to be more involved. Even if the thought makes me want to sigh.

I pull out my laptop and look over the financial report for Sera, my newest club in New York. As predicted, everything’s running smoothly. 

I turn the laptop around to show my father, grinning when he pulls out his reading glasses and leans closer. 

“Starik,” I tease. Old man. 

He flicks my forehead, then reads the report and nods. Then he turns to his phone, probably playing Angry Birds or some shit, and leaves me to work.

The plane ride goes by quickly, and by the time we’ve landed in Chicago, I’ve gotten ahead on my schedule for next week, slept, and changed into what I’ve chosen as the “meeting my future husband” dress.

It’s simple and sleek, the black material clinging to my curves without being obscene. It’s long enough to hide the holster on my thigh, not that I feel in any danger with four personal guards stationed near me at all times.

My heels click as I make my way down the plane stairs and across the tarmac to the waiting sedan, and once my luggage and belongings are unloaded, we head to the Italian Capo’s house.

We’re meeting here, finalizing the contract, and then Cassian and I are flying to New York. 

My new home.

“Try to look happy,” Alexei tells me, his heavily accented English almost ridiculous to hear. He speaks English only when he’s in the states, and considering he hasn’t come here since I graduated B school two years ago, he’s a little out of practice.

“I’m ecstatic,” I say, intentionally using a word I know he doesn’t understand.

His eyes narrow, because it isn’t the first time I’ve used this trick, but he doesn’t call me out on it. We continue to ride in ecstatic silence, eventually pulling up in front of the Capo’s... house.

It’s almost obscene to call it that, considering it’s fucking huge. Like obnoxiously huge.

I heave a sigh, step out of the car, and take in my surroundings. The neighborhood’s quiet, likely filled with friends of the Cosa Nostra too scared to make any noise. 

A butler--seriously, a butler--opens the door and welcomes us inside, and as soon as I step in, I have to repress the urge to roll my eyes.

The amount of dirty money in the air is suffocating. It drips off the vaulted ceilings, down the artwork on the walls, across the marble floors. It’s in the little details of the crystal chandeliers and the mahogany staircase. 

Ridiculous.

One look at Alexei’s disgusted face says he’s thinking the same thing.

Don’t get me wrong, we’re rich. Grossly so. Alexei could have ten houses just like this, if he wanted them.

But he doesn’t. He owns property all over the world, but most of it is commercial or apartment complexes--property that makes him money, in other words. This, however, is a massive waste of capital. 

The butler leads us further through the house and into an office where four men wait. 

One is immediately identifiable as their lawyer, his over-priced cologne making me have to resist the urge to sneeze. The humongous man in the corner is hired muscle, if the boxy shape of the guns under his jacket is any indication.

The man behind the desk is obviously in charge, so I’m guessing he’s the Capo. Rhysand or Rhyland or something weird like that. He takes me in silently, bright eyes not seeming to miss any details. 

That leaves the man leaning against the desk to be Cassian Azara.

My fiancé. 

Our eyes meet, his golden gaze beautiful and wild, and I have to remember to keep my expression bored. 

Because the stereotype, the horrible image I’d conjured up in my mind, couldn’t be further from the truth.

For one, he isn’t hunched-over. He stands tall, leaning a hip against his Capo’s desk with obvious confidence. But I see more than just self-assuredness in his eyes. He seems a little too rough around the edges, wild gaze almost like he’s daring someone to swing at him. 

If the confidence didn’t already make him attractive, his looks sure as hell get the job done.

His hairs long and dark and curly, half of it pulled up in a rouge manner that clashes with the suit he’s filling. He has a few days’ stubble, too, like standing still long enough to shave just isn’t an option. 

His shoulders are impossibly wide, narrowing down to trim hips and legs long enough to make him tower over everyone in the room. 

His knuckles are tattooed and split open, and there’s a cut above his eyebrow that tells me I was correct to assume he’s a fighter by nature. 

Usually, that would be a deterrent for me, but there’s something about the way he’s dressed in a dark suit jacket and crisp white shirt while also looking so untamed that has me cocking my head to study him some more. 

He studies me, too, beautiful eyes taking in the long blonde hair and bright blue eyes offset by pale skin. He looks at the dress like he can see everything underneath, and I have the strangest urge to blush. Jesus, he’s toxic.

He’s attractive, is what I’m getting at.

Which is not what I had planned on, considering I’d been trying to think of a plan on how to not sleep with him, but suddenly that’s all my mind can focus on.

His lips twitch like he knows what I’m thinking, and I realize we’ve just been standing here staring at each other for a bit too long.

So I turn back to Alexei and shrug like I’ve seen what my future husband has to offer and aren’t impressed in the slightest. 

I toss the marriage contract on the desk, grab the Capo’s fancy little fountain pen out of his hand, and sign my name on the blank above my name. 

Cassian watches, but I ignore him entirely until the ink has dried. Then I look up at him through my lashes and wink, turn on my heel, and leave the room.

~Cassian~

I think I’m in love.

Fuck.

She hasn’t said a single goddamn word, but the way she looked at me has me feeling itchy all over, anticipation and nerves rolling through me. I feel like I feel before I fight or something exciting happens.

Like I’m primed and ready and need it to happen now. 

Nesta Orlov, my bride to be, is nothing like I expected. 

I was fully braced for some meek little woman, similar to most of my friends’ wives, to come in and smile and say hello. 

But nope. Nesta didn’t smile; she came in like she was walking onto a battlefield. 

And she didn’t smile. She looked me over, clinical blue gaze noticing too much, and left me feeling winded. God, she’s beautiful. Just looking at her made me hot.

She also didn’t say hello. 

Just signed the contract and left, like this was nothing more to her than a boring business deal. I mean, that’s what it is, but... I don’t know, I expected more of a reaction. 

I’ve heard from some Underbosses that their wives cried or raged when they were forced to sign, but shit if that were the case with Nesta. She honest to God looked like she didn’t care.

Alexei, on the other hand, does look a little pissed about the situation, but I couldn’t care less of the old man’s opinion. He’s signed the contract, so to me, he’s irrelevant. Regardless, he and Rhys proceed to iron out some of the details about the wedding and other shit I’m not paying attention to.

Then they shake hands, and the Russian warlord turns to leave. 

He reaches the door and looks over his shoulder at me, and there’s amusement in his cold gaze as he mutters, “Udachi.” Good luck. 

As soon as he’s gone, Roman and the lawyer follow, leaving me alone with Rhys. 

He slides the contract to me, and I sign my name next to hers, making this shit official. 

“This should be interesting,” he comments, vague as usual. 

I sigh, because I have a feeling interesting isn’t going to cover it. 

_____________________________________________________

NEXT CHAPTER

Tags: @elorcan-trash @januarystears @emikadreams @sjm-things @santas-dwynwen @thebitchupstairs @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @shinya-hiiragi @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @masstrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

[akitsune-lune]

Hey! I noticed you deleted the warriors-kingdoms Tumblr, so I can't actually access the big update you posted... I know you're leaving the fandom, I was just wondering if you'd be willing to post again to say why? If not, and you're not comfortable, that's fine. I was just curious

That's kind of. hilarious. LMAO. I'm so sorry yall I entirely forgot that deleting blogs makes the read-mores dead links. While it's tempting to just leave it, I'll post below what I wrote (and I won't delete akitsune-lune)

(quitting warriors + ditching wk)

They kind of explain each other, but to elaborate, when I was 12 I started writing a fanfiction some of you are familiar with, 'Tear Each Other Apart'. When I was about 15, I gave up on it because I had outgrown it to the point where it was unsalvageable.

Thus does history repeat itself.

I've enjoyed writing WK and if you've enjoyed reading it, thank you. Seriously. Y'know? Seriously. But I can't do it anymore.

I can't really continue to engage with Warriors as much as I have, because... as we all pretty much know by now, it's fucking shit. But it's shit to the point where now, as I continually loop in rewriting and character studies and watching the fandom cannibalize itself over minutiae, I'm realizing that I'm stagnating. I dropped TEOA when I started high school, and now that I'm in university, my writing is again evolving past what I had previously committed it to.

With WK specifically, I can't erase my history of complaining about a lack of attention, but I will acknowledge the dicey territory of demanding more eyes on something that is produced and consumed for free. The essential truth is that yes, if people had been more interested and engaged, my spark for it might have lasted longer (it still lasted 5 years, I don't want to downplay that), but at the same time, I wrote WK because I enjoyed writing it and people enjoyed reading.

Now, I don't enjoy writing it, and not enough people either enjoy it or want to make it visible that they enjoy it. This isn't like... a call-out, or a 'you could have done more'. This series has been dead for months now. This change is coming from me, not from the outside. Even if everyone loved it, I don't want to write it anymore. So that's that. Besides, if everyone did love it I would feel more guilty about dropping it. So I appreciate the comments and messages about it, but it's done.

I know this is probably not great news given that I said 'worst comes to worst, hiatus' but let's rip the band-aid off. It's over.

I've sunk 5 years of my life into it, and I'm grateful for what it's taught me, and you're welcome if you've liked it, but I literally do not have the time, energy, or will to carry on. As I write this, it's Tuesday, which means I woke up at 5am to go to work, got off at 12 in time to eat something and do my homework, then I had a class at 2 which ran until 5:30 (I had to eat dinner on zoom) before I went to another class (I was 10 minutes late as always because I can't physically get to class in the timeframe) and got home at 10. It's now 11pm.

This isn't a tale of "no more room for things that make me happy" because Warriors and WK do not make me happy.

I have moved out, got a job, and started university. There is not room in my life for Warriors or a 'hobby' I spend hours of effort on that increasingly feels like a chore. So! I'm calling it quits. It's been fun, and it's been not fun, but whatever it was, it's through now.

I have a half dozen stockpiled chapters, but those are going to rot in my drive because I don't have time to edit and publish them. I won't delete my fics, but I'm probably going to abandon my ao3 and fanfiction.net accounts.

See ya.

(for the last time)

~Akila

[tirednotflirting]

i am missing you more than i should (guess i'm not out of the woods)

i attempted to post this to ao3 and then the page crashed so tumblr gets some rights today i guess.

this is another addition to the maisie thing i’m working on. title and inspo from look at me now by maisie peters 

read here on ao3 if you wanna

(it’s kinda emo i apologize)

It’s a cold November night when Luke sees Calum again.

Despite the outdoor temperature being displayed on his phone screen, Luke is warm from the alcohol in his belly and the bodies milling around the bar. He’s ordered a drink to feel natural in his current setting but it’s just soda and lime. He’s stepped into this place to wait for Ashton to come pick him up. He had read one top many horror stories about ride share apps and young drunken people and now always gripes at Luke for not calling him for a pick up on a night out. So after watching all of his friends (though that’s kind of a stretch for the people he frequents clubs with) head off into the night, Luke wandered to the place he currently sits at, feeling drawn to the little dive bar he hasn’t been to in ages and sent Ashton his location.

It’s while he’s waiting for his drink that he remembers why he was drawn to this bar. This is Calum’s place. Luke can’t even think up how many pairs of hands he would need to count the number of times they had stumbled into this place, laughing with their arms around each other while tripping their way up to the bar. It’s close to the complex Calum had been living in while they were still in school. Seeing him here now at the other end of the bar, the glitter in his eyes shining even though they’re not taking a single glance in his direction, makes Luke wonder if Calum’s stuck around this area of town.

Because of course Luke wouldn’t know. Luke hasn’t said a single word to the man in ages, hasn’t seen him in probably a year and a half at this point. (He’s tempted to pull out his dying phone to find the last text messages they exchanged to track the time but he knows Ashton probably deleted their messages during one of the many times he ended up on the other man’s couch with tears raining down his cheeks.) 

We want different things. That’s what Calum had told him. Luke wanted to see the world. They were about to graduate, he wanted to see everything and he wanted to see it all with Calum. The idea of settling any part of his still mess of a young life scared the hell out of him. Luke wanted to run but he wanted to do it with Calum’s hand holding his own. Calum was so practical, his mind somehow years ahead of Luke’s. They were graduating, it was time to slow down, he was always trying to explain to the boy he’d laughed with and loved for the last four years. The speeds they were trying to live their lives at during those last few months pretty much started pulling them in opposite directions, Luke supposes. Though that didn’t change how much it hurt the day he returned to his apartment to find a box of his clothes and belongings sitting in front of the door with a little note tucked into the side.

Luke had stuck to his plan. It was only in the last couple of months that he’d returned to the city and found a job more permanent, reconnected with Ashton who had stuck it out in the area for law school. He had seen so many places, so many people, so many pairs of brown eyes that had him nearly chasing after strangers on the other side of the world. He hadn’t dared to try to love someone else but eventually his brain stopped trying to play tricks on him to make him see what he had lost because he couldn’t just slow down. Eventually he didn’t wake every morning expecting to see someone curled up beneath the sheets beside him or to walk into the kitchen to find the ever studious business major drinking from the blue mug with the chip in the handle as he checked the news on his phone

Though from what he could see down the bar, Calum hadn’t been on his own since Luke saw him last. Or at least he wasn’t right now. 

Luke watches a laugh escape Calum’s lips while he reaches for his glass on the bartop (always a whiskey man, Luke was never not teasing him for his old man drink preferences). He takes a sip and then raises his brows, his lips moving to ask a question Luke can still hear rolling off his tongue if he thinks back hard enough. He watches the glass get passed along to the blonde sitting in front of him and facing away from Luke. The glittering in Calum’s eye changes some as his bottom lip gets pulled between his teeth while a smirk forms on one side of his face. Luke can see the other man’s shoulders rise slightly in response to taking the sip and he wonders if the scrunched up face he used to pull when sipping Calum’s liquor is anything like this new man’s. He figures it must be as Calum’s face softens in a still vaguely familiar way and Luke watches him lean forward to press a kiss to the blonde’s cheek while a hand lifts to cover the other. 

Luke squeezes his eyes shut and forces his face away from the couple. He takes a sip of his soda before shrugging his denim jacket from his arms, the bar suddenly feeling far too warm. He’s reaching for his phone in the pocket of his jacket, ready to send Ashton an SOS to get him to hurry along, when a soft voice behind him nearly throws him to the opposite side of the bar. “Luke?”

He jumps as he spins in the stool he’s seating in, Luke’s eyes suddenly meeting the ones he’s been searching for in every corner of the world. He used to spend hours lying awake thinking about this exact moment, about what it would be like to speak again for the first time with his lost great love. (If Ashton were able to hear him thinking that he would scold Luke for being so dramatic. You’re literally 24. Calm down, Luke.) “Hi, Calum,” he returns, praying his voice isn’t as shaky as it feels. The name feels foreign on his tongue and he can’t tell if he’s thankful for that or not.

“How’re you doing, man?” Calum asks, a small smile playing at his lips. “It’s wild to see you in here, not gonna lie. Thought you were still off somewhere with your wanderlust.”

Luke tries to be as subtle as he can as he reaches for his wrist to pinch himself since he’s not entirely sure he believes this moment to be real. He coughs and shakes himself out of his daze. He’s got to be an adult about all of this, he’s a grown up now. “Yeah, I moved back a couple months ago. Was starting to really stress out Mom with the whole travel thing. I’ve moved in with Ashton, if you remember him? He helped me get this admin job at the law firm he’s interning at.”

“Of course I remember Ash!” Calum beams. Luke wonders if he’s also playing at being cool but then he remembers that Calum actually had the guts to walk over to him so maybe this is just a part of being settled down. “Happy for you, Luke. Sounds like a good set up.”

Luke ignores the nostalgia threatening to cloud up his mind at the sound of his name falling from Calum’s lips a second time. “You still working for Donny then?”

“I am! He gave me like, a month after grad to chill before I got back to my old desk with a stack two feet high of files,” Calum laughs and Luke finds himself doing the same. Calum’s internship boss had always been fond of them together. Donny had once helped Luke get flowers delivered for their third anniversary. He was a good guy. “Actually, just got promoted to Managing Financial Advisor earlier this week. Was here, uh, celebrating tonight wit-”

“Hey Cal, thought I lost you there.”

The blonde Luke had only seen the back of before steps into view, his hand dropping to Calum’s back. He’s just barely shorter than Calum, though that’s likely due to the boots the latter is wearing. His eyes are wide and a pale green, like leaves in early spring. Luke wants to hate him but he can’t. This guy looks pretty nice, unfortunately. 

“Sorry, love,” Calum replies softly, his hand lifting subconsciously to push hair from the other man’s eyes. It’s an action Luke remembers fondly (and somewhat painfully, if he’s being honest with himself). “Found a familiar face. Michael, this is Luke. Luke, this is Michael.”

Michael’s eyes widen just the slightest bit. Luke isn’t surprised. He can basically guarantee that he’s sitting right at the top of Calum’s ex-boyfriends to discuss list. They spent nearly all of undergrad together. If Michael’s been around for even a little bit it makes sense that he’s heard about Luke. “Nice to meet you, mate.” 

“Yeah, you too.” Luke accepts the hand being offered to shake. The whole situation feels way too formal but also dazed. Though Luke is still drunk and there’s way too many memories dancing through his mind of nights out with Calum and nights in with Calum and Calum Calum Calum. 

“Well,” Calum starts, his hand moving to rest lower against Michael’s back. “Our Uber is here but I’m glad I saw you Luke. Take care of yourself.”

Luke nods and wishes them both the same in a small voice while they wander away from him. He can’t hear it but based on the worried look he can see on Michael’s face as they head for the door and the way he wraps his arm more firmly around Calum’s waist, Luke knows he wasn’t the only one faking a brave face. 

(He allows himself a moment to give into memory then as he thinks back on one of the last times he was headed out of this bar with Calum. It was early February, just a week and change past Calum’s birthday. The air is cold enough to see their breaths as they giggle and bumble about their new courses. Calum keeps lifting Luke’s hands between his own to blow warm air onto them to keep them warm as they head in the direction of his apartment. 

When they finally make it up to the third floor and through Calum’s door, they both kick off their boots. Luke’s gone for his easier to remove ones so he has a moment to lean against the door while laughing as Calum pulls at the laces of his Docs. Once removed, Calum steps over to Luke, his arms looping around his waist while Luke’s drop to hang over his shoulders. Their laughter dies out as they sway back and forth slightly in the entryway. 

“God, I love you,” Luke sighs as he drops his forehead to Calum’s. “Never want to stop loving you.”

“Please don’t.” Calum laughs gently before turning his head so their lips press together. 

Whether it's seconds or hours that they stand there kissing while holding each other in the dull entryway light, Luke doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. All that matters is that Calum never lets go.)

Luke’s phone buzzes on the bartop, a text from Ashton appearing to alert him that he’s waiting in the lot out front. Luke tips back the last of his soda and shouts a thank you to the bartender. He pulls on his jacket and heads in the direction of the door.

He turns for a moment before reaching to push through back out into the cold. He glances around the open room, quick moments of memories playing out in front of him from the years before. He sighs and pulls himself out of it again. 

Maybe it’s time to find a new spot to land.

*

[imdolaneless]

hey guys just popping in to say i’m alive and to post a little preview of a lil something i’ve been working on, i’m not gonna lie i lost a lot of my motivation to write and i have about 18 unfinished fics in my drafts right now 💀💀💀but i think i’m gonna finish this one i’m already half way there which is fun, anyway feel free to ignore me and keep scrolling past my need for validation🤡🤡🤡 also i love you guys

faking it E.D - PREVIEW

I’d lived next door to Ethan and Grayson Dolan since they moved in at the start of ninth grade. From the moment we met, both boys quickly became some of the best and worst things in my life.

The best being the younger twin, Grayson. We’d clicked instantly. He was without a doubt my best friend, my ride or die, we were both so completely obnoxiously headass for one another that most people would make the inevitable assumption that we were dating. Luckily or maybe not so, Gray would always make it very clear to anyone who asked that you were just friends, which of course I’d always be quick to reinforce despite the slight ache in my chest.

Now, at this point I’m sure you’ve all guessed what, or more accurately who, the worst thing in my life is, but just incase it’s still a mystery allow me to enlighten you; Ethan Grant Dolan, narcissistic asshole, identical twin of one Grayson Bailey Dolan, and the bane of my existence.To say my relationship with the older brother was rough would be the understatement of the century. Ethan knew just how to push my buttons to piss me off like no one else could. Cocky, sarcastic, mildly sadistic, and a shameless flirt the total cliché. What’s more upsetting is he was also fucking hilarious and damn charming when he wanted to be, and I hate to say it myself but he was stupid hot. Still, that didn’t change the fact he was also just plain stupid. A total dumbass really, who made me want to scream and rip my hair out all at once sex on legs or not.

Everyone always assumed that because Grayson and I were inseparable, Ethan and I must be best friends as well. However it wouldn’t take long upon meeting us for people to realize that couldn’t be farther from reality. Ethan and I tolerated each other at best, and even that was sugar coating it. Which is why when he climbed through my bedroom window late one summer night successfully scaring the shit out of me the last words I expected to come out of his mouth were:

“I need you to be my fake girlfriend.”

I glared in shock at the 6 foot something brunet who was making himself comfortable at the foot of my bed. “Excuse me?!”

“You heard me Y/L/N. I need you to fake date me.” He said calmly, like this was the most normal exchange in the world.

“Yeah, never in my life.” I scoffed, turning my attention back to a young Will Smith in Fresh Prince.

“Why not!” He playfully whined.

Without looking up from my laptop screen I calmly replied, “Because that sounds about as appealing as shaving my entire head, then, proceeding to eat the hair with marinara sauce and parmesan cheese like my grandmas spaghetti.”

“Fuck, you really know how to paint a picture don’t you.” Ethan cringed.

“It’s one of my many talents, now get out of my room.”

“No.” He said stubbornly, reaching across the bed and closing my laptop.

“No?” I looked at him in disbelief.

“Not until you agree to help me.”

I took a deep breath, trying to cool the burning rage and irritation boiling up inside of me. “Now, explain to me Dolan why in gods name would I EVER do that?”

“Because you’re selfless and even though you hate to admit it despite everything you care about me and want me to be happy?”

I genuinely laughed at this.

“Try again.”

“Because I know you’re in love with my brother and if you don’t help me I’ll tell him and everyone else.” He smirked.

I froze.

“You have no proof.”

“Don’t I though? Last night I had another sex dream about Grayson, thats the third one this week! It started off the same as the others except this time we were on a plane-” Ethan started reading the all too familiar words, before I slapped my hand over his mouth to stop him.

He shamelessly licked the palm of my hand, to which I quickly retracted with a sneer, still seemingly unable to find the right words.

“You really should find a better hiding place for your diary Y/N, I mean under your bed? Really? I”m disappointed in your lack of originality. Anyone could easily find it there, snap a few pictures, and before you know it all your personal thoughts and feelings could be posted all over social media for the world to see…” He tutted. “We wouldn’t want that now would we?”

I felt my cheeks burning, as a wave of horror and humiliation crashed over me. He wouldn’t. That would be too far even for Ethan. But the look of prideful determination paired with the his infuriating raised eyebrow told me otherwise.

“Blackmail? Keeping it classy I see.” I grimaced regaining my some of my composure.

“I learned from the best.” He said, referring to the time a few months ago when I was sleeping over I caught him in a rather compromising position involving a certain tree fruit, the whole thing was very Timothée Chalamet in “Call Me By Your Name”. Anyway for obvious reasons, I milked that encounter for all it was worth.

“You ruined peaches for me. I LOVED peaches.”

“Y/N-”

“Fine.” I interrupted. “But if I help you, you have to promise to delete those fucking pictures.”

“Of course.” He grinned triumphantly, “Anything else?”

“Yeah, I hate you.”

“Ditto.” Ethan smirked, easily shrugging off my words as he finally stood up to leave.

I really, really, wanted to slap him.

“Meet me at The Daily Grind around 11 tomorrow so we can go over the rest of the details… Sugar lips.”

“Bite me.” I gaged.

“Don’t tempt me.” He laughed climbing back out my window.

[blissfulalchemist]

You Should Listen to This

I’ve had this for like ever sitting away in my drive and I have very little on Lance. so this is something from main canon of Cat and Chance’s stories. This happens after Wingman in A Chance for Faith. So please enjoy.

Lance put the tape into the machine hitting play. The cogs spun round and round while static played. Lance’s face fell as the silence continued, the phone it was in had gotten hit with a few bullets earlier and he had hoped that the tape still worked. Normally it wouldn’t matter, John always asked that they be deleted but this one was different. John had to hear this one, he needed to hear it. 

Lance was ready to hit stop when he heard a sigh play on it, “John,” Lance recognized Catlina’s soft and warm voice. “John it’s...well it’s me again,” she took a deep breath, Lance could imagine how she would look up when getting her thoughts together, “I wish you would answer me please. I miss you, my John.” Lance felt his heart fall as he heard her holding back tears pleading with him, “I know my other messages were, well, desperate, but I need to talk to you. I,” there was a pause and Lance could hear her sniffle, she had started crying, “well there isn’t a right way to say this but,” her voice was shaking. She was building her courage, “John I’m pregnant.” Lance heard the small bit of excitement she held in her voice. Lance knew she had wanted nothing more than to have a family, live a life with the person that she loved and chose above all else. 

It was this part of the message that had made Lance worry about the functional state of the tape. Despite his recent shortcomings John had a right to know. “The doctors thought that it was stress from the ordeal I went through, but nope. And don’t worry all of us have lied about what happened. Not like anyone would believe us anyway,” Catlina rambled, “John we have a second chance. I just...I need to talk to you. Just...John just call me back please.” She was pleading before she took a big breath letting it out slowly, “No matter what’s happened between us or what you’ve done since I’ve last seen you, know that I still love you. I will always love you, my John.” 

The static played again once Cat’s term of endearment for John was said. Lance rewound the tape before he pushed the eject button taking the tape out, “You should know better than anyone that he’s stubborn. Hopefully he listens to this one.” Lance had grumbled to himself as he walked upstairs to John’s office. 

Lance’s steps echoed through the house that was in need of repairs now, thanks to him. Lance let Chance go, all part of the plan in the take down of Eden’s Gate. It was time for them to be brought down and Lance had taken on more of a role in helping the residents of Hope County ever since they tried to arrest Joseph Seed. They finally found their symbol to rally behind, though Lance wouldn’t have picked an immature twenty five year old. Poor kid’s gotten in way over his head. Hopefully he won’t break, Lance mused shaking the thoughts out of his head. 

As Lance approached the door to the office he heard the sounds of things being thrown about and John’s muffled cursing. Lance stood outside the door taking a minute to wonder if he was making the right call in coming to John now. Lance knocked three times. This was too important to be put off for later. Lance didn’t get a response and knocked harder three more times. This time it went silent on the other side and the door flew open. 

John stood there, his hair a mess falling into his darkened eyes, nostrils flared, and posture that of a beast rather than a man. John’s wardrobe reflected the state of his mind as it was uncharacteristically ruffled, his shirt sleeves loosely rolled to his elbows exposing his tattoos, untucked and with a few buttons out of place. The scene behind John was nothing short of a mess. Lance had thrown some papers about and the bullet holes were scattered around the room when he last left it. Now though, John’s desk and floor were strewn with paperwork, drawers pulled from their place and tossed about, books littering the floor and desk all opened one way or another. This was more than the tornado of wrath he was known for, John was looking for something.

“What do you want!” John demanded in a hiss, Lance saw how his knuckles were white as he gripped the door. 

“I have the report of the damage to the house,” Lance took a step forward seeing John take a step back, “You said you wanted it as soon as we got it done.”

John moved out of the way of the door letting Lance through, “What damage did the Deputy do this time?” John asked annoyed as he moved to lean against his desk crossing his arms and ankles.

Lance cleared his throat giving a small nod,“Most of the damage was to the exterior of the property but nothing that can’t be fixed in the next twenty four hours and one dead.” Lance stood at attention the entire time the tape in his hand behind his back.

“Thank you. I expect you’re going to take care of everything for the one we lost,” John’s face didn’t change as he spoke, his eyes flitted around the room. “Is that everything?”

“No.” Lance made a show of looking around the room, “Sir, did you lose something?”

John shot Lance a glare, “That’s none of your business. Now what else was so important that you felt the need to interrupt me?”

Lance held up the tape, “She-.”

“Delete it.” John’s words came out quickly and harshly. 

“You should hear this one first,” Lance pressed, taking a small step towards John.

John looked away pointedly, “I said delete it,” his words ice.

“You have to at least call her!” Lance yelled, “You owe her that much!” John still looked away from him, but Lance could see the hints of tears in the Baptist’s blue eyes. “You weren’t the only one that lost her when you forced her away,” Lance’s voice turned softer. Cat had started to feel like a daughter to Lance, it was painful, just as much as when Lance lost his own daughter Sage. Lance might as well had taken a bullet to the chest once he came back to the ranch to find little Catlina gone, almost all traces of her existence purged. John shut himself off from the world after that and Lance felt pity for him, until he knew the truth. That it was John’s plan, it was John that got her on that plane and left her to be taken far away from Hope County. “It was to save her,” was the only explanation that John gave.

Lance walked closer with the tape grabbing the phone on the desk putting it in. Lance pushed play letting the static fill the room. Lance could see John was lost in his head, it was the only reason Lance was even able to get the tape in the player. The exhale of her breath started to play, “John? John it’s...well it’s me again.”

Her voice filled the room and the message wasn’t played any further as John quickly moved to eject the tape. “I said. DELETE IT!” John broke the tape in half tossing it to the side. John placed his hands on the table looking down at the papers, his arms were shaking close to collapsing. The face John wore was angry and wrathful but his blue eyes told another story. Lance remembered seeing the look in John’s eyes for weeks after he put the one good thing in his life on a plane out of here five months ago. Lance wanted to pat his shoulder or tell him something of comfort but it would fall on deaf ears and Lance wasn’t one to be that friendly to any of the Seeds. “He took it,” John whispered sadly, closing his eyes, swallowing before he spoke again, “That damn Deputy took it.”

Lance looked to John confused, “What did he take?” The boy was just looking for the keys to the Rye’s plane when Lance walked in on the poor kid. 

“The ring,” John’s tattooed hands balled into fists as he hit the table, “Her ring! He took her ring!” John threw the glass paperweight on the desk at the wall he faced, it shattered as it made a dent in the golden wood, “He stole it from me!” The anger and rage was back in full force, “The one thing! The one thing I had left of her!” John flipped his desk over, “The only thing I will ever have left of her and he STOLE IT!” John fell to his knees looking at his hands. John was already a vase that had been repaired over and over, the cracks becoming what drew people to it, but this act against him...it’s what finally made that vase irreparable.

Lance saw tears fall silently down John’s face, it was hard not to feel bad for him seeing his vulnerability in moments like these. “John,” Lance said softly, “you really should have heard her message.”

John’s back stiffened at the mere mention of her, “Get out,” he said quietly. 

“I heard the whole thing. I can-,” Lance offered.

“Get out,” John said more forcefully. 

“John you need to know,” John stood quickly turning to Lance, his hands fists at his sides.

“I said get out!” John pushed Lance to the door.

“John she’s-”

“I said get out!” John pushed Lance again. John wasn’t a strong man but he was using all he had, “That’s an order!” There was no point in fighting him on this, if John was this determined to get Lance out of there, he wasn’t going to listen to anything Lance had to say. 

Lance moved to the door, “Look John you’re going-” Lance tried once more.

“Leave!” With one more shove Lance stepped out of the room. John slammed the door hard, shaking the house.

Lance sighed staring at the door, “You’re going to be a father,” he whispered. Lance turned from the door shaking his head sadly, Would it have really mattered to him? John didn’t leave with her when he had the chance. Why would this knowledge change his mind? 

Lance was tempted to call her himself and tell her John missed her too, how he loved her, and how much he fell apart after she was gone. Lance was sure she would be on her way back here. It wouldn’t matter though, she wouldn’t be allowed to come back anyway, John would never have it and things here got...messy. Lance just had to hope that this would all end soon. John was a lot of things, but with her...John was someone likeable, softer, more human. Lance was far from liking John but even he had to admit that John at least deserved to know who his kid was, especially if it was with her. 

Lance knew there was no better feeling than being a father, especially for someone like John feeling they were undeserving of love and care. Catlina was so close to showing John who he could be beyond his rage and pain, it was just too bad that she started to let nothing but her rage and pain take over who she was. Knowing what he knew Lance had to take the time to call Sage. She still wasn’t taking his calls but Lance had to keep trying, that’s just what a parent did, try. 

Lance went to the guest room on the opposite side of the house, it was the only room with a phone and a door that could lock. Lance knew he wouldn’t be bothered or heard as he locked the room up sitting on the rock hard mattress. Lance picked up the phone dialing his daughter’s number. It rang a total of three times before it went to her voicemail, “This is Sage please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible,” Lance smiled hearing his daughter’s cheery voice. Lance missed her, last time they talked on good terms she was getting ready to visit him with her long term boyfriend and she said she had exciting news to share with him.

Lance was sure it was the two of them finally getting married, a day Lance looked forward to since he first laid eyes on her. “Hey Sage. It’s dad, again.” It had been almost three years since he last spoke to her, he wondered if she got married, and if she did who walked her down the aisle. “Look things here...well they’re changing and for the better. They tried to arrest Joseph Seed about a month ago, it didn’t go as planned but,” Lance sighed, he didn’t want to give her too much hope, “People here are fighting against them. I am too.” Maybe Lance just didn’t want to give himself too much hope, “It’s still not safe for you to come here or even call me but...well if this goes bad I just want you to know that I miss you and..,” Lance looked up blinking back the tears in his eyes, “I love you. I love you sweetie. Always have and I always will. You’re the one that keeps me fighting in life. I hope you’ve been happy.” Lance hung up the phone after that taking a moment to right himself before going back out to help the members with repairs to the property. 

The next morning, John was back to his old self as he gave every one under his command one single order.

“Find the Deputy and bring him to me by any, and I mean, any means necessary. He will atone and give back what he’s taken.”

[lyricfulloflight]

Cherik Bodyguard AU

I have no idea what this fic will be title, but I wanted to share the prologue because...because I’ve been working on the start of three different cherik fics and I just wanted to share at least one of them.

This is a modern, AU, non-powered fic.  Erik is a former military man turned bodyguard, Charles is an actor.  This is the prologue to the main fic.  

Let me know what you think!

Story below the cut.

Prologue

It took Erik less than five minutes to decide he hated Los Angeles. More specifically he hated rich, entitled, juvenile model/actresses who hosted parties in the Hollywood Hills of Los Angeles in the middle of the summer when Erik had to stand outside in 100 degree heat in a suit.  This particular rich, entitled model/actress probably hated him right back, which was fine with Erik.

He had arrived at the sprawling one story, mid-century modern house at the time assigned to him by the Frost Protection Agency: 1pm.  The host of the party, one Raven Darkholme, had answered the door with nothing more than skimpy lingerie and a scowl.  Erik had, according to her, woken her up.  Since she was supposed to be hosting a party that started at 2pm, Erik figured he’d done her a favour.

After muttering a completely insincere ‘Sorry’, Erik brushed passed the half-asleep young woman and started a perimeter check of the property.

It was another forty five minutes before his colleagues showed up.

“You’re late.” Erik said when they entered the backyard.

“Good morning to you too, you grumpy German asshole.” Alex Summers replied with a smirk.

“It’s almost fourteen hundred hours.”  Erik answered flatly. “The party is supposed to start in fifteen minutes.”

“This is Hollywood, Lenhsherr.  No one is going to be here on time, they’ll be at least an hour or two late.  That’s how things work around here.” Alex explained. “You can relax – if that’s even possible for you.”

Erik stared at Alex in silence for a minute and then went back to scanning the completely inadequate fencing around the backyard.

“Have you met my brother, Scott?”  Alex’s voice interrupted.

“No.”

“This is where you turn around and say hello, Lehnsherr.  They do teach basic social skills in Germany, right?”

Erik scowled and turned around to face the brothers.

“Hello.”  He ground out, extending his hand toward the unfamiliar brother who had darker hair and sunglasses. “Erik Lehnsherr.”

“Scott Summers. Nice to meet you Erik.”  Scott replied with a tense smile. “Haven’t been in California long have you?”

“No.”  

And given the ridiculousness of this day so far, he didn’t plan to stay long either. The basic concept of schedules and timeliness was something Erik was not willing to live without.  He’d only been with the agency for a couple weeks, but fortunately they had offices in several large American cities and even a few in Europe.  Erik had been looking to get as far away from his former life as possible and California had seemed like a worthy prospect for escape.  Clearly it was not.  Luckily he remembered that Ms. Frost had mentioned during his interview they were also looking for new bodyguards in Dallas and New York.  Surely one of those cities had to be better than this.

“The inadequate fencing appears to be the most likely point of entry.”  He stated.

“Have you ever been to one of these parties man?”  Alex asked.

“I’m not at the party, I’m providing security for the party.”  Erik replied stonily.

“Listen, not that you shouldn’t check the perimeter and do all the regular security ‘stuff’”  Alex said sarcastically, making making quotes as he spoke, “but seriously, these parties, they hired us cause they like how it looks.  Tall, strong guys in suits standing around looking dangerous, we’re like...arm candy or something.  You’ll probably spend more time trying to get drunk party goers to leave you alone than you will chasing away threats.  They like the paps, man.  They want their pictures taken.”

“That’s not what the contract said.”

“Screw what the contract said.  A bunch of young almost celebrities who are trading on their good looks and charm?  They want their pictures splashed across magazines and all over the internet.  It’ll help them get their next job.”

“I hate this place.”  Erik muttered, but not quietly enough not to be overheard.

“Yeah, doesn’t seem like your scene.”  Scott nodded. “You should ask Emma if they have openings in Washington or New York.  More politicians and businessmen on contract out there.  Might be a bit more your speed.”

Erik grunted in acknowledgement, clearly Scott was the smarter of the two Summer’s brothers.

The next hour or two passed without issue.  As Alex had predicted, the first guest arrived at the late and complete imprecise time of 3:17pm.  As guests began to trickle in, wearing odd and unusual clothes, Erik had a sinking feeling.  When the hostess, dressed in a green and blue flowy gown that somehow managed to have plenty of fabric and yet cover nothing but the essential bits strutted out to welcome the guests to the party, his fears were confirmed.

“Welcome to my 21st birthday, costume pool party bitches!  Let’s all get plastered!”

Erik winced at the high pitched announcement and the roar of cheers that followed it. Wonderful.  A costume party full of twenty-somethings who wanted to get shit faced and also swim in a pool.  Genius idea.

The following hours were some of the worst of his life, which was saying something as Erik’s life had never been a something to brag about.  He was accosted by no less than a dozen bikini clad girls (he couldn’t call them women since they all looked about fifteen and he was tempted to ask them when their parents were coming to pick them up), had a woman dressed as Cher pinch his ass, and was propositioned by two men, one dressed as a sailor and the other wearing both too much leather and yet not enough clothing in general.

Erik hated this job. He hated California, with its hot, sticky weather.  Most of all he hated these people.  People with nothing in their heads and botox in their faces (even though no one looked a day over thirty) and silicone in their chests. People who thought nothing of invading the personal space of someone who was working, and clearly not attending the party.

At this moment he particularly hated the young man dressed as Tom Cruise from Risky Business, wearing nothing but a button down shirt, sunglasses, tube socks and white briefs, who was currently serenading everyone with a truly terrible rendition of ‘Copacabana’.  Firstly, Erik thought, the man obviously should have been singing ‘Old Time Rock and Roll’, given his costume. Secondly, the man might have been better off singing when he was less drunk. Erik could only hope his voice would have been better and more in tune if he wasn’t quite so sloshed.  And thirdly, it should have been illegal for someone’s ass to look that good in plain white briefs.  Plain white briefs were not sexy, they were practical and unassuming.  But these briefs, with that ass, they assumed a lot, including far too much of Erik’s attention.  Erik found himself thinking quite a bit about how likely it was that someone would push the young man into the pool.  Erik tried to justify his thoughts as concern, concern that the young man, being more than a little drunk might be at risk of drowning if he was unexpectedly pushed into the pool.  Obviously his thoughts had nothing to do with how transparent his entire outfit would be once he emerged from the pool, certainly not.  Erik was a professional and professionals did not think about random party guests in that way.

No one pushed the man into the pool.

For while, Erik lost sight of the man and was able to give the full force of his concentration to patrolling the perimeter of the yard and looking for unwanted, uninvited intruders.  Thank goodness he was looking, because within half and hour of starting his route, he found one nosy paparazzo hiding behind the bushes, gleefully snapping away.  His line of sight the perfect angle to get shots into the flimsy tent where guests were changing into swimming attire.  ‘What a horrible excuse for a human being’  Erik though vaguely before kicking the man’s camera out of his hands and hauling his upwards by the scruff of his shirt.

“Hey man!  Lay off!  I was just doing my job!”  The man scrambled frantically for his camera as Erik dragged him along.

“Your job is to take pictures of unsuspecting women taking their clothes off?”  He bit out through clenched teeth.

“Hey, they’re asking for it man!  They want to be famous!”  He man whined as Erik pushed him toward a mostly discrete side exit.

“I’m quite certain they were not asking for it.”  A crisp cultured voice interrupted before Erik could punch the man in the nose. “There’s no need for violence, my friend.”  The voice spoke again and Erik felt a hand touch his arm, causing him to frown, but relax his arm back down to his side.

Erik turned to find himself face to face with the Tom Cruise costumed man, who sounded considerably less drunk than Erik would have thought based on his earlier behaviour.

“Your film, please.”  The young man said, holding a hand out toward the paparazzo Erik had caught.

“It’s all digital man.”  The man replied smugly.

Erik grabbed the offending camera out of the man’s hands and passed it over to Tom Cruise, or whoever he was.

“Here.”

“Thank you.” Tom (as Erik had decided to think of him for lack of a better option) smiled a brilliant smile up at Erik and happily took the camera.

“Digital they may be,”  Tom said, deleting pictures and removing the memory card, “but they are now gone.  If I ever see you back on my sister’s property again, I will call the police and have you charged for trespassing.”  He turned back to Erik,  his voice now much lighter, friendlier even. “If you would be so kind as to escort this man off the property Mr. …?”

“Lehnsherr.  Mr. Lehnsherr.”  Erik managed to answer.

“Mr. Lehnsherr.  I would be most grateful to never see him again.”

“My pleasure.” Erik smiled, lifting the offensive man high enough that his feet didn’t touch the ground, he started forward moving quickly to haul the man by the house and down the driveway, depositing him on the road outside the front gate.

Erik returned to the party and somehow made it through the last couple of hours of debauchery.  No other intruders were spotted.  Guests continued to drink and a great many people were pushed into the pool.  ‘Tom’ was no where in sight, however.

Erik took to smiling his biggest, most aggressively toothy grin at everyone who came near him, which effectively scared everyone away from his general vicinity.

“Jesus, that’s terrifying.”  Alex commented after a pair of young women had turned and run away from Erik’s latest smile.  “You should never smile, man.  I’ve gotten six phone numbers from these chicks – stop scaring them away.  If you don’t want the phone numbers, I’ll take them.”

Erik scowled, disgusted at Alex’s complete lack of professionalism.  Of course he was scaring them away.  He didn’t want their phone numbers.  The only thing he would admit to wanting, was a name (okay, he likely would have taken a phone number too).  Unfortunately, as the party died down and guests stumbled home, Erik didn’t catch sight of ‘Tom’ once.

The next day he was back at Frost Protection Agency headquarters asking for a transfer. Within the week he was flying to New York.  He had no regrets, he and California were clearly not meant for each other. ‘Tom’ whoever he was would remain a mystery.  Which was fine by Erik.  Mystery Tom was intriguing: a man with some principles, a horrible singing voice, and a fantastic ass.  ‘Tom’ is real life would no doubt have been a disappointment, as people almost always were.

So Erik did what he did best: he compartmentalized and pushed ‘Tom’ into a nice little box and stored him away in the recesses of his mind.  Now, was the time for New York.  He sat on the plane, in a cramped economy seat and pulled out the file on his next assignment.

[chuffyfan87]

Very Much Myself. Part 5a (NSFW)

Cowritten with @fairheads.

-x-

A few weeks had passed, Charlie had spoken to Baz and she had reluctantly agreed to his idea of a separation. Charlie thought that Duffy would have been pleased, but instead she seemed to be spending even more time with Andrew.

He was thankful that she'd called things off with Max. Well that's what Charlie presumed from the way Max now seemed to be sniffing around Tina which had caused a huge fight in the middle of reception between the consultant and Sean.

It had been over a week since they’d seen each other last. Charlie spotted her writing something on the board in admin so he sidled over to her. “Hey you!” He whispered, putting his hand on her back.

She jumped slightly. "Hi. You ok?"

“Yeah, just wondering if you fancied coming over later?” He whispered.

"I... Er..." She hesitated. Ever since Charlie had told her that he and Baz had separated she'd been anxious about spending too much time with him lest others get suspicious.

“Thought we could catch up? It’s been a little while.” He whispered tentatively.

"Um... OK. We could have something to eat?" She suggested.

He could tell she seemed less than keen and it worried him. “Sure, shall I book us a table somewhere?”

"Yeh, that would be nice." She smiled.

Charlie smiled at her, unconvinced of her enthusiasm. He didn’t have long to ponder as Tina arrived, announcing they were both needed in resus.

When it came time for them to meet at the restaurant Charlie was disappointed to find she wasn't there. The time crept on - ten, fifteen minutes passed beyond their agreed meeting time...

He’d gone in to save the table and was starting to feel a little embarrassed by repeatedly saying he was 'waiting for someone' and that she would 'be here in a minute.’ It got to thirty minutes and Charlie ordered himself a glass of wine, he’d felt bad about keeping the table.

Another ten minutes passed and he was about to give up and accept that he'd been stood up with he saw a flash of distinctive red hair by the door out the corner of his eye.

He watched her rush in, speaking to the maitre’d, as he offered to take her coat. She looked flushed.

"My car broke down again." She explained, embarrassed, as she arrived at the table. As she sat down it was clear from the way she rubbed her feet that she had walked quite a distance in the heeled shoes she wore.

His annoyance dissipated as soon as she sat down. “Oh no, are you okay? Where did you walk from?”

"I managed to get my car off the ring road before she totally gave up on me thankfully." She sighed.

“But that’s miles... Especially in those shoes!” Charlie couldn’t believe she’d walked all that way!

"Which is why I only just got here."

“Thank you,” He whispered. “Let me get you a drink!”

"Yes, I'm gasping!" She giggled.

“What can I tempt you with?” He asked her, smiling.

"Well seeing as I'm no longer driving myself home tonight a glass of wine would be lovely."

“Of course, I was thinking we could maybe share a taxi?” He suggested.

It was then that she realised he already had a half drunk glass of wine on the table. "Did you leave your car at home then?"

“I walked, just fancied the fresh air...”

"I forgot that you don't live too far from here now."

“Yeah, maybe I’ll stick to this one and then I’ll come and help sort your car?” He suggested.

"I think the only thing that you'll be able to do is tow it to the dump!"

He could sense her frustration and ordered two glasses of wine when the waiter came. “So how have you been?”

"I'm ok." She paused, playing absentmindedly with the rings on her fingers. "I... I've been meaning to apologise... That rambling message I left on your voicemail at New Year..."

“Why do you need to apologise..?”

"I had a fight with Andrew. After he stormed out I decided to finish the bottle of wine we'd just opened. I don't entirely remember what I said but I'm sorry." She paused. "And before you try and claim that I didn't call you and that you have no idea what I'm talking about I woke up on the floor the following morning with the phone in my hand and when I checked yours was the last dialed number."

“I got the message... It’s okay.” He reassured her, he had heard the message - a mixture of rage at Andrew and alcohol fuelled sadness that they couldn’t be together.

"Please tell me you deleted it." She blushed.

Charlie shook his head, “I might have it still...” He too looked embarrassed.

"But what if someone hears it..!" Duffy gasped.

Charlie laughed, “I’m not planning on playing it to anyone else Duffy!”

"If Baz finds out about it she'll tell Andrew!" Duffy fretted.

“Duffy, Baz and I are separated, that’s not going to happen.”

Duffy sighed and turned her attention to the menu. Several awkward moments passed. "Why did you leave her Charlie? We agreed..." She asked without looking up.

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t do it anymore...” He sighed.

"What about Louis?"

“It’s hard but I’m still seeing him... Every other weekend.” Charlie looked heartbroken.

"I'm sorry." She reached across the table and squeezed his hand.

“I miss him.”

"Does she know you've been seeing someone else?"

He shook his head.

"That's something I suppose." She replied before placing her order as the waiter arrived with their wine.

“How are things with Andrew?”

"They're OK..." She shrugged.

“I thought maybe things were better... You didn’t seem to want to see me.”

"We were supposed to be making a real effort, not working late so much, spending more time together..." She sighed.

“And..?” Charlie swallowed hard, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer.

"Seems I was the only one who was actually trying." She sighed.

Charlie felt sorry for her, he could tell how much she had tried. “What did you try..?” He asked softly.

"I tried being the perfect wife, the perfect mother. I even considered quitting my job." She admitted.

“Oh Duffy...” He sighed.

"But there was clearly no point." She sighed.

“I take it Andrew didn’t appreciate your efforts? Or make his own in any case?”

"He barely noticed. I could have run naked through the house and he would have barely looked up from his books. When he's at home that is." She sighed.

Charlie looked up and raised his eyebrows, briefly imagining her running naked but regained composure. “Do you think he’s seeing that woman still?”

"I'm almost certain of it." She ran her hand through her hair. "I considered trying to catch them at it."

“Oh yeah? Do you know where she lives then? What stopped you?”

"No but I know she works with him."

“Do you think it would help if you found them out?”

"Maybe we'd all stop living a lie."

Charlie smiled at her, just as the waiter interrupted with their food.

She looked down at her food. She idlely pushed it around the plate with her fork.

Charlie had eaten half of his before he noticed she was struggling. “Not hungry?” He asked her.

"I thought I was." She sighed.

“Too much on your mind?”

"I'm sick of living a lie but too much of a coward to do anything about it."

“Someone we both know once told me that you will know what to do, when it’s time for you to know what to do. I think that’s true.”

Duffy chuckled darkly. "You're quoting Megan at me?!"

“She does know her stuff,” He grinned.

"A little too well at times." Duffy laughed.

Charlie smiled at her kindly. “You know she’s always right!” He teased.

"True... Don't tell her I said that!" Duffy giggled.

“Are you going to keep trying...?”

"Is there any point?" She sighed, taking a large gulp of her wine.

“You tell me..?” He finished his food.

"As far as Andrew is concerned all I'm there for is to keep house and raise the boys." She sighed.

“And what does he do for you and the boys?”

"He 'works hard and brings home the money' and expects us to be grateful to him for that." She replied bitterly.

“Hmm... Doesn't sound like he makes you or them particularly happy.”

"He doesn't seem to understand why I can't just be happy with being the perfect little consultant's wife. Why I feel the need to work when he says I don't need to. That I should stay at home for the boys."

“What does make you happy?” Charlie pondered.

"Helping people. Making a difference."

“You are a brilliant nurse, we’re lucky to have you!”

"When you invited me to come back to work he didn't speak to me for three whole days." She rolled her eyes.

Charlie shook his head. “But you love your job, does he not care about that?”

"He says it makes him look bad because it makes it seem like he can't 'keep' his wife in a befitting lifestyle."

“Do people even think like that?”

"I suppose its different for Baz being a female consultant." Duffy shrugged.

“I guess Andrew couldn’t imagine being with a woman who earned more than him...”

"I don't think that's ever going to be a problem for him."

“Who’s this woman? Is she a consultant too?”

"No, she's a nurse. She's over ten years younger than me."

“That must be hard to know...”

"Its not great no." She sighed.

“I’m sorry it’s ended up like this for you, you so deserve someone who values you, makes you feel attractive, supports you with work...”

"Someone like you?" She asked, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

“I didn’t mean it like that, but if you like...” He grinned.

"You do make me feel all those things."

“I do?”

She nodded, giving him a dazzling smile. "Maybe I should have married you rather than having you give me away."

“It might have made things a little less complicated...” He smiled back at her, finishing his wine.

She chuckled in response, finally starting to eat her meal.

Charlie was pleased to see her relaxed enough to eat some of her dinner.

"I'm sorry I've been so distant recently." She added between mouthfuls.

“I’m not going to lie, it’s so good to see you. I thought you’d worked things out with Andrew and that was why you didn’t want to see me. I missed you.” He explained honestly.

"That was what I was trying to do. I thought if I put some distance between us then it would remove temptation."

“Did it work?”

"I'm here aren't I?" She smirked.

“Ah but that could be because I kept pestering you... You thought if you came, then I might leave you in peace!?”

"I walked three miles in high heels tonight and you think I came here so you'd leave me in peace?" She snorted.

“It’s good to know you don’t want me to leave you in peace then.” He grinned.

"You wouldn't know what to do with yourself if I did!" She teased.

“Whose the one who just walked three miles to be here!” He teased back.

"I was raised to believe its rude to stand people up when they've invited you for dinner!" She giggled.

“Excuses excuses, you just couldn’t wait to see me!” He joked.

"You flatter yourself!"

[tisfan]

State of the Fics 2019

The WIPS and Dead Ends Edition

So: having recently had a few discussions with some fellow authors and talking about other writers and stuff... here is where I’m going to answer some/most/all of the MOARPLZ requests.

I have 440+ works on A03 and a lot of what I hear is MOARPLZ or “is there going to be any more of this...”

So, I’m kinda going through my list right now and letting you know what my plans are for 2020 and what, if anything, you can count on to see more of, and what is, in fact, truly over. If you don’t see a fic that you love and want to know more about it, feel free to ask me. 

Take Note and RSVP - every once in a while, we get asked about this story. This was my first jaunt into the fic world, and it’s unfinished. We lost our Steve writer because of some Fandom Drama (you can blame some stans who accused us of plagiarizing a fic we’d never read who continually attacked us until the stress just made it not worth the effort of finishing.)

Solar Powered Soldiers was my first solo effort. This fic, as far as I’m concerned, pretty much sucks. It was meant to be a Steve/Bucky fic, ended up with the only smut scene as a Nat/Clint piece, and didn’t really have a satisfactory ending. I am not likely to ever go back and fix this.

Steve of Oz was supposed to be mostly smutty foray into exploring Steve as the Avengers Bike. The plan was basically for him to end up having sex with literally everyone, while in a Wizard of Oz setting. Never happened, didn’t get much response to it. 

Lost in the Shadows Every once in a while, I get someone who asks me about this AU. Talk about your niche markets! On the other hand, I love me some ShadowRun, so I have not closed down the idea of writing more on this AU... 

So, here’s a fun thing: This particular AU is what’s been requested by my Marvel Trumps Hate winner, so, I’ll be writing a dragon-level event story for this, some 27 - 30,000 words. You ready, chummer?

The Communal Kitchen AU We have a few half-complete stories in this series; Vol 3, the Mating Habits of Hero Birds, a vague outline of a Team NuclearWinter side piece, and a couple of smut pieces that never got written. I may yank the sex pollen scene from Vol 3 out and post it as a stand-alone. We’ll see. If there’s interest in any of this, maybe we’ll come back to it. (I am currently re-reading the whole series, because honestly, I write the fic I want to read, and so I re-read my own stuff rather a lot.)

Anything involving Phil Coulson and Clint Barton - while I still ship this couple, and I’ll read stuff about them, I’ve pretty much given up writing them. Between Agents of SHIELD and everything with Clint starting in, say Age of Ultron forward, I just... don’t feel it anymore? Which does include the started and never finished Coulson’s Final Case 

Next Thursday Night - huh, I’d honestly forgotten about this fic. maybe i’ll revisit it this year upcoming... somewhere I think I have an outline.

Subject to PunTax - I love puns, and this story is very formulaic. I pick a topic, make up 5-7 puns on the subject, wrap a story around it and tie a bow with a suggestive pick up line. So, I leave this open to continue, the next time I’m feeling Punny.

Bucky Barnes has Kittens - Bucky as the crazy cat lady writer with bad anxiety. I’ve had a lot of people tell me this story has been great for them, dealing with Bucky’s anxiety issues. I do have more story ideas for this ‘verse, including Bucky finding out that Steve is also a writer and dealing with that. Decidedly On the List.

Eight Arms to Hold You - I have a handful of extra stories for these. Some of them went up on Tumblr for tentacletober... generally speaking, any mermaid fic of mine is subject to a continuation because MERMAIDS and OCTOBUCKY

All American Road Trip confession time here: I stopped writing this fic because of some anti-tonys who kept popping in my comments for this fic to rant about Tony Stark in a fic that was NOT ABOUT TONY. I’ve deleted all their comments, but they were nasty, and I stopped wanting to write for people who were being so abusive to Tony (and honestly, that much bile spilling in my comments, I don’t care who it’s about, it makes me sad) Like, they liked the Fic (steve/sam/bucky) but... eeeh, whatevs. I didn’t feel like dealing with it, and I’m not going to.

Also Prey - One of my more popular pieces, I reserve the right to add more to it when I’m in a fluff mood.

Kiss me Through the Phone - I wrote this with @27dragons and I have about... half a plan for a third chapter called Your Dirty Little Secret. So, with some encouragement, that could happen.

The Truth is Who You Are - my BDSM with religious song lyrics fic; this stuff is really emotional for me, and while I do have 2-3 more pieces planned, they take me a while to write and they knock the shit out of me while I’m doing it. There’s a lot of Tony working through his self-hatred that just... it’s deep. So... there will be more, it just... might be Some Time. 

The Killer and the Kid - this is literally my most popular piece. I get a MOAR PLZ ask on this at least once a month. I have been saying for a while I’m not planning any more of this, but I did offer it as an incentive for the Marvel Trumps Hate auction. This particular fic will ONLY BE WRITTEN for a charitable donation. 

Joyride - I’ve written a couple of addons for this fic loosely titled Bundle of Joy. They’re not quite Done Yet, but when I get there, I’ll be posting that.

Nights in Sandbridge - our most popular series, and I love these boys so much here. We have no major plans to continue, but if something strikes us, we may. 

WinterIron Pickup - a short story that spawned a second chapter. I have some ideas for continuing this, but it’s fallen by the wayside as I write other things.

What Good is the Sky - this piece is so angsty, and I keep getting requests to do moar of it. Trust me, you don’t want that, it will END BADLY. and I will cry a LOT.

Off the Menu - I really do have a LOT more of this story in my head. I just don’t know when I’m going to get around to it.

Bucky Barnes Prom CYOA this was SO HARD to format that I just gave up on it. I may come back and redo this as a few “completed” stories? 

Phoning it In - I do, in fact, have a few more of this AU in mind, I just lost a bit of the shiny after an amazing fucking against the sofa smut scene. So, there might be more of this in your future (also I kept expecting it to win March Madness, so I-- didn’t get back ‘round to it?)

A Poor Reflection - never got finished. Not sure why, I had the whole damn thing plotted out. Where is my outline??

The Enhancile War Series - mostly to play with the trope of naked girl in a box, this series originally had four plotted stories, but we just could NOT get the fourth story to GO anywhere, even pushing on it really, really hard.

Any Old Music Will Do - I have a plot outline for this one, with Bucky and Tony forming the core of the Defenders, along with Luke and Jessica, but I don’t know what I did with it... anyway, there’s more ideas here. a bit.

Indispensable we had a plot idea for a sequel and I actually think we wrote about 15000 words or so on it, but-- meh, it ended up not being very interesting. If we come up with some actual plot, then maybe?

Park(s) and Wreck(ed) - I have some more ideas for this as Tony and Bucky get their sexy on all over the office.

Stark, Naked - we did, in fact, do a sequel to this, which was rather short, but well-received. Not much ideas here for anything else, but we like this version of them, so if we get good prompts, we might be tempted to take up the reigns again.

Land After Time - We get a LOT of requests for Moar of this. If we had ANY FUCKING CLUE what was going on, we might. but we really, really don’t

We Can’t Eat That (It’s Dead) - I actually have an entire plot for this, on who the dead guy is and what happened...  I could be encouraged.

Forever Home - we wrote a full length sequel to this, but weirdly enough, it WASN’T the original sequel we’d sort of talked about. which means there’s potentially a third story here... (maybe a 4th one, too)

Excuse me, I think You Have My Suitcase - the further adventures of Tony and Bucky in lacy underthings. Yes. The next time I feel like PWP, I plan to revisit.

Dead to Rights - I still really like this idea... I just didn’t get as much traction from the Umbrella Academy fandom as I would have liked. Probably because most of my writer friends are Not Into It, which doesn’t give me many people to bounce ideas off 

New York: Become Human - there’s a LOT more story here to tell... maybe we’ll tell it.

Rejoice in the Sun - I started writing this fairly soon after Endgame, when I had a lot of feels, but between the absolute outpouring of hatred about that movie from the fandom. seriously, y’all were going all Annie Wilkes up in the house to the point that I put Endgame back on BLACKLIST to get away from the seething bile... it got really hard to enjoy post endgame content, and I got sick, too, so... that didn’t help any.

Once a Knight - Witch Bucky and Knight Tony... we have some more plot for this...

No Job Too Small - I think I even have another chapter of this WRITTEN. And some more plotted out. Tony and tiny children. What could go wrong?

(D)rift Away - Bigger Better Bugspray... what happens when the Rifters come back? There might be more of this, once I work out some plot. And honestly, stop getting distracted by the damn @heamarvel prompts.

The Door into Winter - I have a whole story for this, still working on it

Learning to Work Together (Good Omens) - we have some more feels for this, so possibly, if we can put plot together.

Pretty much everything else i’m posting in progress is still going strong, Blueberries, Hell Charger, Can’t Help you Fix Yourself, Reclamation, Draco Malfoy and the Rune... and I have a couple of other collabs with other people that are... bogged down with details right now.

We’ve got a couple of stories headed your way from the Marvel HEA Hallmark challenge, including what may well be my new favorite: Buck Barnes Got Married. We also wrote a Cyber Punk AU with companion Tony as an excuse to dress Tony up in skimpy outfits.

So, that’s like the general status of Old Fic... and having ideas is not the same as finding the time to sit down and WRITE them, especially since New Ideas are attacking me at the same time, honestly.

[tydy-the-megnet]

Actual Human, 19

Based on @queenbrickisinariver's high quality meme. This is an AU, clearly

...

Callum sighed as he scrolled aimlessly through profile after profile of horny women on his Look Forum app. "You can find that special someone if you just 'look forum.'" he said, reveling in his own mocking voice. Why he had let Ezran make him a dating profile, he'd never know.

His little brother could be scarily persuasive at times.

"Because you need to find a girlfriend. You need to get over Claudia already."

It helped, of course, that Ezran was right. He usually was, in fact.

But still, to be put on the Look Forum seemed almost pathetic.

"Why would I even want to be with anyone from--?" Callum froze, his thumb hovering over yet another profile.

Rayla, Actual Human, 19.

70 miles away.

Hello I am real human. I enjoy activities such as discussing money and eating unhealthy amounts of bad food.

Accompanying the odd bio was a picture of a cute young woman with hair white as snow and skin so pale it appeared almost purple in whatever lightning she was under. Upon further inspection, two pieces of wood seemed to jut out of her hair like horns, and two deep purple marks were painted on her cheeks.

In other words, Callum realized, she looked like an elf. And well, he thought, what more did he need than an actual human with a sense of humor?

...

It had been a stupid bet. If it hadn't been for that pesky squirrel, she wouldn't be in this mess. But she lost, fair and square, and now Rayla was stuck with a profile on an online dating app.

A human dating app. She just hoped Runaan didn't find out. He would definitely take it the wrong way.

Oh well. She'd leave it up for a few days and then delete it once the others forgot about it. Or at least, that had been the plan.

But then she got a message from someone named Callum.

"Hello, fellow human. I also enjoy eating bad food. Shall we discuss which bad foods are the worst?"

Despite herself, Rayla quirked a smile. She couldn't believe her half-baked profile had gotten a hit, but it was pretty clear that this guy was also an elf. A skywing elf, if his looks were anything to go by. He could probably pass as human -- or perhaps he just worked on a disguise for his dating profile.

She responded after pondering the man, "Nice, did you lose a bet, too?"

...

She had lost a bet. Callum wasn't surprised. From what he could tell from the picture on Rayla's profile, she was stunningly beautiful. Why would she be on such a lame site other than a bet?

"No," he answered, "My brother talked me into trying to find a girlfriend."

"Well you haven't got a very good selection on here, have ya?"

Callum laughed out loud, a snort escaping him as he leaned back in his chair. It was true, too many of the people on Look Forum we're weirdos. But then, trying to flirt, Callum replied, "Well I found you. That's a plus."

...

Rayla couldn't stop heat from getting in her cheeks. He was right. While the rest of his options were rotten humans, he had managed to stumble upon her temporary joke profile.

Maybe- maybe this was destiny? The idea that some random event could lead to her meeting her true love was a bit far-fetched, and she was loathe to believe it, but--

Well, he was cute. She might as well give him a shot. But she wouldn't be hasty either, she decided. Stowing away her fleeting thoughts, she settled into her seat and sent her next reply.

"Oh you’re a charmer.” she typed.

"Heh, I try. So, I like to draw. What do you like to do?"

"Well," she sent, wondering what to put. She liked training to be an assassin, but she didn't want to say that, obviously, "I'm pretty athletic, and I like to do parkour."

"Oh, that's cool. It'd be fun to draw you flipping through the air." He replied, and moments later, "Wait, that sounded weird. I JUST MEANT IF YOU WERE OK WITH IT."

It was weird, Rayla thought, but as more heat pooled in her face, she figured she didn't mind. No one had ever wanted to draw her before, after all.

She typed an answer after a moment, hesitating before sending the message. Her thumb hovered over that blue arrow, and she clenched her eyes shut as she forced the finger down, heartbeat going wild.

...

"I mean if you really want to we can meet up sometime and you can draw me?"

Callum stared at the message.

No matter how long he started, it didn't vanish, so he stared some more. After a couple of minutes, dancing dots showed up under them, showing Rayla was typing again, but the words still didn't disappear.

Then the dots did vanish, and reappear, and vanish again. Callum realized with a start that he hadn't replied.

"Oh! Um okay. That sounds like fun. When and where?"

The boy gulped, disbelieving that he was setting up a date with a random girl from Look Forum. He was similarly awestruck through the rest of the conversation, barely processing the plans the girl was making.

Next Sunday? That small village near the Xadian border? There was a clearing near there with some rock faces that were good for her sort of thing, and a nice little shop in town to dine that day as well.

Huh, "I have a date. I have a date!" Callum jumped up, "I HAVE A DATE!"

"I glad it worked out for you, but can you be quiet, Callum?" Ezran said, glaring at him from where he poked his head through the doorway, "Nobody likes a loud dork."

"Sorry, Ez."

...

Sunday came too quickly, Rayla decided. She never came up with a good excuse for Runaan and the others, so she just told them she'd be back later and bolted from the campsite.

The outcropping -- the site of her date -- was a nice little spot she had found a couple days ago as her group was travelling through. It was fun to jump around rocks and pretend like she was fighting humans atop them.

What wasn't fun, however, was seeing a human looking at his phone on those rocks when she needed to get ready.

Silently, she sneaked up behind the oblivious human, a young male by the looks. Bringing her swords up, she quickly swiping forwards, bringing the twin blades up to his neck and readying herself to intimidate him into leaving.

"Ah sorry please don't kill me I have a date today!" The boy's arms jolted upward, the phone coming clearly into view at her eye level, where she could easily spot...

... herself?

"Where did ya get tha' photo?"

His head tilted upward, and Rayla almost caught a glimpse of his face, "Oh, that's Rayla. She's my date today. She told me to meet her here, so I'm sorry if this is private property or-"

"Callum?"

The world froze around them, and Callum slowly -- cautiously, minding the swords -- turned to look at her.

"Rayla?"

"Yer a human?"

"You-you're an elf?"

They stared blankly at each other as moments passed by. The world slowly started moving again, and Rayla was reminded of those scenes in romance novels where two soulmates meet and the world falls into place.

This felt nothing like that.

"Why were you on a human dating app?" Callum asked, his accusing tone biting through their close proximity.

"Ah, I, uh, lost a bet." Rayla stammered, "Why did you talk to me?"

"I thought you were a human."

"Do I look like a human?" She snapped.

"I thought you were being funny, like with your bio."

"What do-"

"Look," He said, and Rayla was tempted to keep talking through his interruption as an unholy fury began to roar in her heart, "Can-can you put the swords down? They're really unnerving."

"What-why-why didja think it was supposed ta be funny!?" She glared at the boy in lieu of lowering her weapons, "And why wasn't it obvious that I was an elf?"

"I figured an elf wouldn't use a human dating service!"

That--that was a fair point, Rayla decided, as her anger befan to fade. She nodded slowly, her hard stare still piercing Callum's presence.

"Can-can you lower the swords now?"

Almost unwillingly, she did so.

"And, uh, you're not gonna drink my blood or anything, are you?"

"Wha? No! What do you think elves are? Bloodthirsty monsters!?"

"I don't know! I've never met an elf before! I don't really know anything about them!" He raised his hands in surrender when the swords came up to his neck again.

"Well, lesson one: we don't drink blood."

"I, uh, got it. No blood. Taste bad."

She nodded sternly, lowering her blades again and finally stowing them away. She stared at Callum for another tense moment, before turning to leave.

Runaan would definitely never hear of this.

...

Rayla wasn't entirely sure how she got here.

It seemed obvious, she had walked here with Callum, into the small village to get something to eat. She just didn't really know how that happened.

As she scarfed down her own meal, silently sneaking glances to observe Callum's impeccable manners, she thought back to his words.

"Are you still interested in eating and talking about bad food?"

She just didn't know how she got here, sitting with him in a booth and eating a meal that honestly wasn't terrible.

She had been leaving, walking away from the unfortunate encounter with the rotten human. But a nervous smile and simple question later, and here she was.

"Wow," Callum said finally, his voice cutting through the tension like a sunforged blade through butter, "I guess you don't think it's that bad, huh?" He set down his utensils and dabbed his lips with a cloth, "You got a little something... everywhere."

Rayla blushed, taking her own cloth and wiping her entire face from the top down while he chuckled.

"It's not the worst," she mumbled.

"Well, humans have plenty of much better food, if you ever want to try it."

His smile seemed to thread lightning through her veins -- not an unpleasant sort of lightning, though -- and she nearly choked on her bread.

"Maybe."

"And if you're still interested," He added hesitantly, his words trailing off into oblivion as he raised his book to the table.

He opened to a middle page and showed her a sketch -- a remarkable likeness of her from the photo she used on Look Forum, though she noticed she looked human on the paper.

"I'd love to draw you," he said, and suddenly the lightning was very pleasant.

[shadowsong26fic]

Precipice Deleted Scene

This comes from the most recent chapter (Part 7, Chapter 6/Chapter 72 overall). It’s an alternate version of what Leia saw in the Temple, one of three or four that I considered. This is the most complete.

I ended up using the other scene because I thought it flowed a little better/got the point across a little more clearly, and the focus is narrower/more effective for this point in her journey. The alternate scene here focuses a little more heavily on the Anakin and Leia parallels, and while I do love how alike those two are and their relationship (which is why it gets so much focus in the fic proper), I felt like this scene was the wrong place to focus on it.

Anyway, all that being said, the scene itself is behind the cut. It’s fairly rough/unedited/unfinished, but I did make sure it’s a complete scene with all transitions in. Some of them are fairly clunky/would be worked on a bit more before posting if this had made it into the fic proper.

Enjoy!

She’d finally found something that felt new--a steep, narrow staircase; almost more like a ladder--and was trying to decide whether to go up or down, when she caught sight of a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye.

Leia’s heartbeat sped up again, and she paused, listening carefully for footsteps or any sounds that the machinery had changed, but she was still safe. Undiscovered.

A vision, maybe? she thought. Is that how this is supposed to work?

She stayed where she was for a moment, practically holding her breath and waiting for another sign.

And there it was again--at the far end of the corridor, a hint of what might be a tattered cloak shifting as someone walked across the dusty stone.

No footsteps, though.

Definitely a vision. Finally! ...oops.

She turned away from the stairs but took another moment to close her eyes and take a breath, to settle herself before she took her next step.

There is no passion, there is serenity. I can do this. But not if I jump at shadows. Even good, exciting ones.

When her heartrate had mostly gone back to normal, Leia opened her eyes again and started walking, forcing herself to keep a steady, even pace.

Once again, it took forever.

Patience, she reminded herself. That’s probably the test here. That’s what I have most trouble with, right? And if I pass it, I get a crystal, and then I can start really helping Dad and everyone.

The corridor ended, leaving her in a small, circular room with no exits other than the one behind her. Unlike the pathway here, though, the room had its own light. Leia held for a second, letting her eyes readjust--

There was someone there.

A man, tall and solidly built and bald all over, with patchwork white scars running all over his face--one particularly bad one just visible at the top of his head--and something strangely familiar about his eyes.

“Hello?” she tried.

He smiled at her. “Hello. ...huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said. “I just...you’re taller than I expected.”

Leia glowered at him, drawing herself up as much as she could, and he bit back another smile.

“I’m sorry, that was rude. Please, join me.”

“Who are you?” she asked, settling across from him with her hands at rest in her lap, just like Aunt Beru said she should if they were idle. To be polite.

“Not important,” he said.

“Are you a ghost?”

He grimaced. “Not...exactly,” he said. “But the Temple has been--damaged. Corrupted. The veil is thin here. Besides, I’ve never been all that good at following the rules I didn’t like.” He winked at her.

She stared at him, but, despite herself, she felt herself relaxing a little. He sounds almost like Dad.

“You’re a lot like your father, you know,” he said, after a moment. Almost as if he’d heard her thoughts.

Well, Force-vision, right? He probably can, even if actual mind-reading doesn’t work like that.

“Yes, I am,” she said, not bothering to hide her pride at that.

He studied her for a moment. “You...you know that’s not entirely a good thing, right?”

“What are you trying to say?” she asked. “My father is a good man.”

Something she couldn’t quite read flashed across his eyes.

Patience, she reminded herself, and took a deep breath. This is a Test, remember? Whoever the Force has chosen to manifest as here--this is not the way.

“I mean,” she said. “I mean, I know he isn’t perfect. No sentient being is. But he’s my dad, and he’s a good person, and I love him. And there are way worse people I could be like.”

“I’m not gonna argue with that,” he said.

“Good.”

“But you are like him,” he said. “Both the good and the bad.”

“If that’s what this test is--”

“This isn’t a test,” he interrupted. “It’s a lesson.”

“Meaning what?”

“You could burn it all down, if you wanted to,” he said quietly. “I mean, if you really wanted to.”

She chewed that over for a moment. “You mean the Empire?”

“I mean all of it.”

She frowned. “I’m not sure I understand,” she said. “The Empire is--” She thought of Mom and Luke and the constant tension on Coruscant. She thought of Dad and Aunt ‘Soka and Uncle Obi-Wan and everything they’d lost. She thought of Uncle Rex and the bad dreams he pretended not to have.

The Empire had done all of that.

“Are you saying it doesn’t need to go?”

He shrugged. “That’s not my question to answer. Not here and now.”

“Then what are you saying?” she asked.

“I’m saying,” he said, “that you need to be careful.” He held up a hand to stop her interrupting. “Careful when and where you set that fire. That you’re sure it’s the right one, and that you can live with the collateral when you lose control.”

“If I lose control.”

“When.”

She stared at him.

“The kind of fire I’m talking about, it’s definitely when,” he said. “Because when you burn it all down, you burn it all down.”

Leia thought about that for a minute. She thought about all the times she’d been--angry. Been tempted to hurt people, because they’d hurt the people she loved. If she really got going, on a scale like the entire galaxy, like the Empire…

Okay. He--might have a point there.

But this was still the Empire they were talking about. Control and patience were important, yes, but so was doing the right thing. So was justice.

“It might still be worth it,” she said.

“I know,” he said. “That’s why I said to be sure it’s worth it. Trust me.”

“Who are you?” she asked again.

This time, to her surprise, he actually answered. “In another life,” he said, “I’m the man who destroyed your father.”

She was on her feet before she realized it. “You--”

“Another life,” he interrupted her. He smiled, wryly. “I’m not saying that someone like me might not get to him, someday, under the right circumstances. But my time has passed. Long ago. Before you were born.”

She took a moment, and then another, and another, and when she was pretty sure her voice would be steady, she asked, “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because there was a time when I thought burning everything down was the answer,” he said, then gestured at the scars on his face. “Look where it got me.”

She studied him for a moment, then sat back down. “And that’s when you killed--killed my dad?”

“That’s when I destroyed him,” he said. “And that was the least of what I did. I’m--like you. Born of fire. I don’t want to see you become what I did.”

“In another life.”

“Yes.”

There was a moment of silence, while she studied his scars in the uncertain light, and thought about--about that unimaginable thing, that Dad was gone.

And that was the least of it. Or so her vision said.

“But you’re talking to me here and now,” she said. And he didn’t--feel evil. Not like the kind of monster he was describing should.

“I got better,” he said, answering her unspoken question. “After. Eventually. It took a while, and a lot of help, and some very, very special circumstances. But I would give anything to have another chance. To do things right.”

“Right,” she said.

“I’m not saying I wouldn’t’ve still decided that--that at least some of what I destroyed needed to come down,” he said. “It’s...hard, even now. There were...external factors. And--well, like I said. I burn things--it’s what I’m good at. Always was, even before...well.” He shook his head. “But maybe I wouldn’t have. If I thought things through, I like to think that I would’ve...would’ve managed the collateral better. At the very least.”

She thought about that for a long, long time. Long enough that she started to feel--not quite in a trance-state, exactly, but...not quite here, either.

“Sometimes, I guess that’s all you can really do,” she said, eventually, and the weight of that sank down on her.

“Yes,” he said, simply.

“Oh.”

“I’m not trying to tell you you’re bound to be a monster, or to make you afraid to act,” he said. “That’s not the lesson here. The lesson is to think before you act. And if you really do end up burning it all down--well, that’s your choice. And maybe it will be the right one. But be sure it’s worth it.”

She nodded, slowly. “I...think I understand,” she said. Patience. Just like Uncle Obi-Wan and everyone keeps telling me.

He smiled at her one last time, and glanced up at the ceiling. “You should probably get going,” he said. “Your father and Baze Malbus made a little more noise than they should have. You’ll want to be on your way as soon as possible, after curfew ends.”

She blinked, and for another half a moment felt all floating and detached, before the hard stone under her felt real again. “Right,” she said, and stood up again, more smoothly than before. Despite the fact that her legs were half-asleep and all tingly.

He rose as well, and offered her his hand.

She accepted, and felt something small and hard and warm rest in it, which helpfully anchored her, chasing away the last echoes of disorientation. “So, I passed the test?” she asked, hopefully.

“Not a test,” he said again, smiling almost sadly. “A lesson. One you’ll probably have to keep learning and relearning for the rest of your life. You are a child of fire, Leia. Like your father. And me.”

She nodded, and closed her hand around the crystal. “I’ll remember,” she promised.

“Good,” he said, and bowed. “May the Force be with you. Princess.”

[infiniteshawn]

Puppy Love | Part 5

2.6k of a bit of angst but lots of fluff

You sat in front of your computer screen, learning everything you possibly could to make sure Shawn was suitable for the Cameron House. Letting him down again would certainly destroy every chance of getting to know him at this point, and you weren’t sure if you could handle that.

You read the description on their website, discovering that they were in search of a younger artist who performed predominantly acoustic covers. Testing your luck, you pulled up YouTube in a new tab and searched Shawn’s name.

A ton of results popped up in no time, some having already reached thousands of views. Your heart broke a little, remembering that you were the reason he couldn’t do this anymore.

Your shaky hands clicked on the first result, a video taken just sixth months ago at the Horseshoe.

Your screen went dark, gradually illuminating as a stage lit up. Shawn stood in the middle with an acoustic guitar in front of a few other band members. There was a pianist, a drummer, and a guy with a bass guitar. You watched as Shawn stepped up to the microphone stand, exhaling softly as the bass guitar began with a little riff. Before you knew it, the piano had joined in and Shawn was bopping his head a little, singing the opening lyrics to Amy Winehouse’s version of “Valerie.”

It soon became a little more lively and upbeat that the original, and Shawn’s hips began to sway with the music. A smile uncontrollably crept up on your face as you watched his fingers strum the guitar, a rosy hue on his cheeks as he sang his heart out. The drunken crowd was cheering him on as he sang over their chants, a desperate rasp finding his voice and carrying throughout the chorus. Your head bopped along as your eyes remained fixated on the screen, mesmerized by his on-stage energy. He was so good.

The white lights on him grew a little dim and his hips slowed as song came to an end. As the pianist played the final few notes, Shawn darted to the side of the stage, setting his guitar down and returning to his spot. The lights slowly transitioned into a deep red, completely changing the atmosphere as he placed two large hands on the microphone that was still resting on the stand. You wondered what he would do next, furrowing your brow as you could see the video was only half-over. He stood before the crowd, head hanging low as the piano continued its interlude, soon transitioning into the opening notes of “Back to Black.”

Your stomach dipped as a smile erupted on Shawn’s face, looking up at the crowd as he began singing in a lower voice than before. You could feel your mood changing, quickly changing from a happy excitement to a hungry, lustful passion. Your eyes raked over his body as he moved against the microphone stand, slowly swaying along to the sensual melody.

He wore skinny jeans and boots as usual, accompanied by a button-up that hung open at the top. Now without the guitar, you could see his thin middle and broad chest, shirt tight over his bulging arms with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hands gripped the microphone for dear life, causing the veins in his forearms to protrude and ultimately fuck you the hell up.

His jaw was defined in the dim crimson light and you could just make out the sweat dripping down his temples, thanking your lucky stars for the highly defined quality of the video. His cheeks were even redder than before, eyes shut tightly as he hit every note perfectly. The song was sultry and he was owning it, and you were absolutely fucked for him. How the hell was this your first time seeing him perform?

His hips loosened up a bit as the song neared its bridge, and you’d never wanted to become a microphone stand more in your entire life. His rendition was beautiful and his movements fit perfectly, causing a heat to shamelessly grow between your thighs as your lustful eyes focused on the vein in his neck. Before you knew it, the song was ending and he muttered a low “thank you” into the microphone, stepping off the stage as the video stopped. This boy had you shook.

Navigating back to the Cameron House’s website, you concluded that he was definitely suitable to perform there. You scrolled to their “Contact Us” section, emailing them a link of the video you’d just watched and giving them Shawn’s information. Satisfied with yourself, you finally felt as if everything was going to be okay, and it was probably safe to give him a call.

It rang a few times, a nervous feeling growing in your stomach as you wondered if he was asleep, ignoring it, or debating picking it up. Geoff had said he was really into you, which was either a lie, or Shawn was fighting a mental battle with himself over his pride.

“Hi, you’ve reached Shawn. Sorry I missed your call, please leave a message!” played in your ear as you swooned over the sound of his voice, unsure of what on earth you were going to say. Beep.

“Uh, hi, it’s me. Um, I know you deleted my number and you’re probably still mad, but uh, I need to talk to you. So, um, if you could call me back, that’d be great. Sorry, again, for everything,” you said a bit shakily, hanging up and tossing your phone down on your bed as soon as you were finished. Your fingers ran through your hair as your mind ran wild, desperate to fix what you had with Shawn.

You got up and ready a little later than usual, thankful to have Fridays off. Your hair draped over your shoulders in loose waves as you applied a little more makeup than usual, hoping to remind him of how much he liked you. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Your phone buzzed as an unknown number lit up your screen.

Hey, it’s Geoff. Apartment 819, remember? I’m not gonna be there but I told him I was coming over so he’d be awake and stuff. Good luck, kid.

You smiled, instantly typing a response.

Got it! Heading over soon, I’ll keep you posted.

You shovelled some breakfast into your mouth and took Chloe around the block, bringing her back home before setting out toward to Shawn’s building.

The sun warmed your face as the air chilled the tip of your nose, putting you in a good mood as you walked down the street. It was midday, so people were out and about, sending you smiles and waves as you passed them on the sidewalk. You took your sunglasses off and folded them up as you stepped into the vestibule of his building, thankfully slipping in behind someone else who’d been buzzed up.

The lobby was cute and modern, tempting you to sit down and collect your thoughts before facing Shawn. You decided against it, heart beating heavily in your chest as you stepped into the elevator and selected the button for the eighth floor. The mirrored walls allowed you to run a few fingers through your hair as you gave yourself a little nod of approval in an attempt to boost your own confidence.

Its doors slid open and you stepped out into the hall, turning left to go eastward. You felt your breath getting a little shaky as you straightened out your jacket, walking by a few front doors until you stumbled upon the one that read 819. Inhaling sharply, you decided to just go for it, firmly knocking on the door with your knuckle three times.

“Come in!” a voice called, making things a little better for you because he couldn’t really turn you away.

You slowly pushed the door open, calling out “Shawn?” to warn him that it was actually you entering his house, completely uninvited.

You slowly poked your head around the large door, stepping inside to see an empty kitchen and living room. His puppy came racing toward you, jumping against your knees as you leaned down to give her a little scratch. You froze in place as you heard heavy footsteps coming from one of the rooms, only to be greeted by a shirtless, tired-looking Shawn with grey sweats hanging low on his hips. You couldn’t help but eye his body, taking note that he was totally fucking ripped. The sweats hugged him in all the right places, showing the slightest bit of bulge and revealing the “v” of his lower abdomen.

“Oh, shit, I thought you were Geoff,” he said in a shocked tone, crossing his arms as he stood at the opposite end of the kitchen island.

“No, uh, not Geoff,” you spoke, unable to meet his eyes as you looked out the large living room window. “I need to talk to you,” you said a little desperately, eyes finding his in the bright kitchen. You stared into his honey orbs for a few seconds too long, noticing how hurt they looked at the sight of you. His lips were slightly parted, forming a bit of a frown as he reverted his gaze.

“I got your message,” he said sternly, standing up a little taller. “I didn’t call you back.” Your heart broke a little as your face fell.

“Shawn, just hear me out,” you pleaded, maneuvering yourself around the angled counter and stepping in his direction. “I realize you’re not at the Horseshoe anymore, but there’s an opening at the Cameron House and I think you’d be perfect.”

His chest fell as he exhaled, pondering what you’d said. His eyes found yours again as he uncrossed his arms and spoke flatly, “I don’t want it.” You took another step in his direction, now only a few feet away from him.

“Shawn, ple-“ you started, but he cut you off.

“No, I don’t want it. How can I even know if you’re being serious? How do I know your boyfriend didn’t send you over here to dangle it in my face?” he said angrily, shoving his massive hands in his pockets.

“Shawn, no,” you pleaded, shaking your head as he took a step away from you.

“You don’t understand, I was so close,” he spoke firmly, looking away and blinking a few times. He took a moment to collect himself, talking with his hands as he spat, “I was close to being fucking signed, and now I have to start over again. It took me so long to get that position. And you knew! You knew and you didn’t tell me. I liked you so much,” he shook his head, running a hand through his hair. Your heart fell again, noticing that he’d said liked rather than like.

“Shawn, he’s not my boyfriend, we broke up ages ago. And I realize you lost it and I’m trying to fix it, I don’t know what to d-“ you spoke, but he was trying to butt in. “No, let me finish,” you said firmly, causing him to fall silent and re-cross his arms. “I realize that I fucked up and I’ve already apologized so many times, I even researched you last night to make sure this new gig was suitable because I know I wouldn’t be able to handle letting you down again,” you felt a lump forming in your throat, and you knew you only had a few more seconds until the tears would spill over. “And to think, t-to think I’d ever want that asshole more than I want you,” you paused, eyes pooling with water as tears began rolling down your cheeks, “is just fucking rude, and you’re so wrong,” you tried to keep going but were overcome with emotion, frustration taking over as he wasn’t hearing what you were saying. “I just, I don’t know what more you could possibly wan’t from me!” you yelled, shoulders slouching a bit as the sobs began to escape your lips. Before you could process what was going on, Shawn had closed the space between you and pulled you into his arms. Your face was pressed against his bare chest, tears wetting his skin as he hushed you and rubbed your back with his strong hands.

“Shhh, it’s okay, honey I’m overreacting,” he spoke softly as you tried to compose yourself, the heat from his body making you even warmer, “I’m so sorry,” he said, voice laced with realization.

"I don’t know what you want from me, Shawn,” you said quietly, tears continuing to fall as you felt helpless.

His strong hands moved from your back to your shoulders, slowly pulling your face from his chest as he cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. His features were much softer than before, graced by a little half-smile, glossy eyes, and a loose curl hanging on his forehead.

“I only want you,” he whispered softly, pulling you closer and planting the softest kiss on your lips. His mouth was warm and smooth on yours, innocently kissing you as you melted in his arms. Your hands found his abdomen, pressing against his warm middle as he pulled away from your face. Your eyes fluttered open to be met by his soft chestnut gaze staring back at you.

“But you’re mad at me,” you whispered, inches from his face.

“No, I’m not. Baby, it doesn’t matter anymore,” he said quietly, “I like you so much.”

This time it was you who leaned forward, pulling him in for a kiss by the back of his neck. His hungry mouth moulded to yours as you pressed your body against his, parting your lips to welcome his hot tongue. His hands moved from your cheeks into your hair, attempting to pull you impossibly closer as he inhaled through his nose, deepening the kiss and releasing a soft moan.

You knew it was time to stop, pushing off his chest and separating yourself from his wet lips. He broke into a smile, kissing your forehead and stepping away.

“I should go,” you said softly, reaching for his hand one last time. “You’ll look into it, though?”

He nodded with a smile, a soft “yes,” escaping his bright pink lips. You gave a little nod of approval and turned on your heel, looking back at his giddy expression before disappearing out into the hallway.

Breaking into a smile, you continued toward the elevator and stepped inside, more-than-satisfied with how things went. As the doors began to close, you jumped at the sight of a large, tattooed hand forcing them open again.

Shawn popped around the corner with a lazy smile, a little shaken from running after you.

“Will you go on a date with me?” he asked quickly, eyes wild with excitement. “Tomorrow, please?” he pressed, an expectant look present in his eyes.

You laughed, stepping closer to his still-shirtless self, “Of course, Shawn.”

His smile grew as he leaned in once more, planting a soft kiss on your lips. You could feel him fighting a grin as his mouth pressed against yours, soon being pulled away as he stepped out of the elevator entrance. The doors began closing as a deep blush erupted in your cheeks.

“I’ll call you!” he yelled as the doors were almost shut, only allowing you to see one of his eyes and a thin portion of his body, causing you to laugh as the elevator descended.

Relief washed over you as you left his building, soon realizing he was playing no games as your phone lit up with an incoming call from Shawn.

a big thank-you to @achinglyshawn for helping me plan this one out! go show her some love!

[enchantedcass]

And ode to Howler Con redux

I need to talk about something important to me. And it’s going to get kind of long. 

If any of you have followed me for any sort of time you’ve probably heard me mention a convention called Howler Con. It was a small fan-run convention for Teen Wolf. It was in New Jersey and it ran for four(ish) years. 

This time last year, the last Howler Con was wrapping up and I have some things I’d like to say.

Howler Con wasn’t a big convention. At its max, it had 600 attendees. But that didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that it was in a small hotel in a small state. It didn’t matter than not many people know what Teen Wolf, is, so explaining the idea of a convention dedicated to the show was impossible. None of that mattered. What mattered was what it meant to the people who went. To me.

Howler Con was a home. It was a once-a-year escape from life. It was a family. 

Teen Wolf was an escape for me. I had gone through a traumatic family death and Teen Wolf was my escape. The show, the characters, it was about loss and love and fighting through hell to keep going. So when my friend told me about a convention, where other people who felt as strongly about this show would be going, I jumped at the chance. And that was how I first knew this would be something special. I couldn’t afford the ticket on my own, and within a few hours people I didn’t even know had donated to help me pay so I could meet the actors of this show that meant so much to me. I was floored. Looking back though, it makes sense. These were Howler Con people. They were about to become my family.

Every year this con welcomed me home with open arms. I made friends that first year, and in the years since, that have changed my life for the better. I met the best friend I could have ever asked for. I met people who genuinely care about me as a person, not as anything other than who I am. I solidified my own identity by being around people who didn’t care how I identified. I have friends who only want me to be happy and to feel loved. There’s something about that, at the base of friendships, that makes for the most genuine connections I’ve ever experienced.

The con itself was magical too. I emailed one of the heads of the con before I attended, just saying that I was nervous but how much it meant to me that they were doing this. She responded so kindly, and in a way that made me know I wasn’t just being heard, I was being understood. I attended that girl’s wedding this year.

The staff of Howler Con CARED. Do you know how rare that is? The staff felt the same way the attendees did - they wanted us to have the best time possible. They wanted us to meet new friends, create new memories, and feel safe and respected while doing it. And they succeeded 1000 percent. Every year I came away with memories I carried with me through the whole next year. When times got tough, not only did I have a group of people who I could reach for, but I could think back on moments of an entire weekend that was fueled with love and positivity.

And at the core of it, that’s what this is about. The attendees felt it, the staff felt it, hell the actors felt it. I know that because they said as much. They talked about it the same way we, the fans, did. Howler Con was a family and a home. It didn’t need to be more than a place where people who loved each other entirely came back to each other every year. 

To me Howler Con was everything good in life. Every good feeling you might get made up Howler Con. That feeling of running into the arms of someone you missed. That feeling of hugging a friend tightly in welcome. That feeling of being around loved ones. That feeling of smiling so hard your cheeks hurt but you can’t stop. That feeling of singing in front of crowd when you’ve got major anxiety, or dancing with kids half your age, or laughing about a joke that makes no sense to anyone else. That feeling of heartfelt talks at 2 in the morning, and hungover looks seven hours later. That feeling of lying on a hotel room floor  laughing and talking and singing and being so happy your heart feels ready to burst. That feeling of not feeling alone for the first time ever. That feeling when you know you’ve found someone who gets you That feeling of deep, complete, and devoted friendship. To quote Stitch, “this is my family. It’s small and broken but still good. Yeah, still good.” 

That’s what Howler Con was. 

But everything has to end. And endings are hard. I don’t have any good words for this part. I cried my ass off last year for weeks after it was all over. Of course the friendships and memories are still real and still with me but the anticipation of coming back, the knowledge that Howler Con would be there for me again this year wasn’t there. And that was really hard. And its been really hard ever since. 

There’s a different kind of sadness from loss. When you know what you had and you don’t have it any more. It’s a deeper sadness that hurts more than imagining what might have been. It sucks. Endings suck.

But that’s not the point of this post. The point here is about what I did have - and what I do still have. The connections. The love. The memories of being happier than I’ve ever been. The knowledge that it’s possible to feel that way. The knowledge that there are people right now all over the world who adore me for whoever I want to be. 

There’s an irony to the fact that for the past 3 years Howler Con was on the same weekend as NYC Pride. Because I think Howler Con sums up what the point of pride is. No matter who you were or are, no matter how you identify, no matter who you love, Howler Con was a family and a home and a safe place. The most comfortable I ever felt in my own skin, as a trans queer person trying to figure their mental illness out, was with these people, at these conventions. 

I could never thank every person involved enough. I could never do justice to the emotions I have with the limited words I’m given. I’m trying, but even now I’m so tempted to delete this post because it feels so little compared to how much Howler Con gave me. What it meant to me and still means to me. I don’t have a grand ending here. I’m still not sure how to feel okay but it all being over, and yeah I hope it’s not over forever, but still. I needed to get at least this much out there. I needed to talk about this convention, one year after its ending. Because when you leave home, you still miss it, and you still want to talk about it. 

I love every single person I met at Howler Con. I love every single person involved in making these conventions happen. I genuinely can’t express it enough but I owe you all my life.

And that’s the thing I don’t talk about a lot. But coming back to the beginning of it all, I need to mention it. Right before that first convention, this was November after the death that happened in May. I hadn’t been doing well. At all. I was failing out of school and I was falling apart. I’ll be honest. I wasn’t going to make it to that New Year. I just couldn’t handle the pain in myself anymore. I decided to wait until I at least got to thank Tyler Hoechlin in person for what he did for me. So I decided to go to Howler Con. And the convention - everything I mentioned about it - saved my life. I decided not to kill myself because of the people in that little hotel in a little state who were fans of a little TV show no one really knew about. That’s what this all means to me. It means I’m still alive.

And since then I’ve had some bad times, I’ve had some relapses. I’m not all cured. But every year it was like a new dose of remembering why I stuck around that first year. And I still have these people in my life. I can reach out for them whenever I need to. And yeah, maybe I don’t have Tyler personally asking me not to do anything to hurt myself, but I have the memory of him asking me not to every year I saw him. I have the memories of all these actual famous people caring about little me, and what I did and didn’t do with my life. And I have my friends, and the people I love more than anything. 

They’re still here. And I’m still here. And I think that’s a good place to end this.

[all-sortsa-stuff]

A new start, part 13

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 2735

Warning: Language (as always), angst

 Part 12

The phone continued to ring from his pocket as he pulled it out, it was Sebastian.  “Hey man, you coming down or what?  This thing starts in ten minutes.”

“Fuck this is bad, Seb. So bad.”  Chris rubbed his eyes as his pulse pounded a painful rhythm through his head.

“Chris it’s not that bad. We can stall a few till you get down here.  Just put some cologne on so you don’t smell like ass and some clean clothes.”  Sighing loudly into the phone, he switched ears as he started going through his suitcase looking for a change of clothes.

“That’s not what I meant. I did something really stupid last night.”

“You didn’t…  you didn’t pick up some girl after we left did you? That would be monumentally stupid. [Y/N] will call you back man.  She is in like BFE Mexico.”  Why did it sound so much better coming from someone else than in his own head?  He pulled the outfit out he planned on wearing and set the phone on speaker so he could get dressed.

“No I didn’t do something that stupid but pretty close. After all you guys left I called [Y/N] again. It actually went through.”

“So you got to talk to her. That’s great.  Wait… What stupid shit did you say?”  Sebastian knew him too well.

“I vaguely remember accusing her of cheating on me with her ex who cheated on her.”  The sound of Sebastian’s palm hitting his forehead was audible, followed by a loud groan.

“You are the stupidest man alive.  You know that right?”  Pulling on the shirt and buttoning his pants, Chris sighed again.  “Do you actually believe she cheated on you?”

“I know I’m a complete ass. No I don’t think she would do anything like that.  My drunk self does not make the best decisions and a fleeting thought sober at the sight of a tabloid picture of them in the same car turned into a huge fucking mess.  Seb, it sounded like she broke up with me.  I just can’t… I can’t lose her.”  Tears filled Chris’s eyes as he pulled his shoes on.

“Fuck, Chris.  Look get down here, let’s get the panels done and see what you can do after.  Call her, text her… anything.  I know she is the best thing to ever happen to you.  Look let me stall them a few.  Get down here.”  The call ended quickly.  Chris fired off a quick text to you begging for you to ignore everything he had said the night prior.  He only hoped you would respond.

 The panels were crazy. There were so many people stuffed into the large room at one of the London hotels.  Everyone had questions about the upcoming Captain America movie. It made it easier to distract Chris from the turmoil going on in his heart.  The last five minutes of the second panel were ticking away and he could not wait to get out.  He would have about forty-five minutes before the third panel would start.  The first thing he was going to do would be to call your phone and if you actually answered beg with everything in him for you to forgive him.

“One last question for Chris.  How hard is it to be filming in one place while, [Y/N] is filming in another?  I mean how do you keep your relationship together when you are apart so much?”  The teenage girl had no idea the sucker punch that question just had on him.  No doubt she dreamed about the love story of two actors falling for each other and living happily ever after.

“Well…”  He sat straighter in the chair looking over at Sebastian who tried to give him a reassuring smile.  “It is a very difficult thing when the love of your life,” a collective ‘awww’ was heard from the room. “is away from you.  We don’t get to see each other for months at a time. But we both love our work and would not want that to change for either one of us.  So we try to call and text every day.  At least Facetime call at the minimum every other day.  Sometimes we may not sleep much but we sneak off and try to meet the other one on their set for a day or two before having to run back to our own projects.  Anything we can to keep each other happy.”

That response had her and the rest of the females in the room practically swooning.  “Wow that’s really great.  Thank you for your answer.”

That ended the panel and it took Sebastian holding his arm back to keep Chris from running out the door. “Play it cool in here, man.”

Chris frowned before waving to fans then slipping out the door.  His phone was in his hand in an instant, disappointed that there were no messages or calls from you.  Dialing your number, he let it ring until the voicemail picked up.  It may be really early in the morning there but he had to talk to you.  He left a message pleading for a return call.  Then he texted the same thing.  He had to get your attention somehow.  

The panels and autograph sessions dragged on for the rest of the day.  Everyone started to notice Chris was not himself.  Normally the big smile and jokes were constant.  Now it took a lot to get him to smile.  He declined the dinner invitation from Joe Russo the movie’s director, saying he was not feeling well.  It was not a lie as he had felt sick to his stomach since he realized what he had done.  There was still another day of the convention tomorrow where he would be required to sit and answer more questions.  If he did not lay down and figure some things out and hopefully talk to you, he would be useless in the morning.

Chris lost count after ten more texts and three more voicemails he left for you.  There was no way you were not getting them.  You were just ignoring them all.  Maybe you were reading and listening to them or had you chose to delete them all without acknowledging them.  A hot shower was a lame attempt at giving him something to do to waste some time before he tried to sleep.

As he stepped out his phone rang, which had been perched across the room.  His heart jumped in his throat as he held the towel tight around his waist, diving over the bed to grab it.  “Hello?”

“Hey honey.  How’s London?”  His mother’s voice came from the other end, as true disappointment struck deep in his chest.

“Oh hey… mom.  Yeah London is fine.  Just got back from dinner.”  

“You okay?  You sound out of breath.”

“I’m fine I just dropped the phone and was… uh… trying to grab it.”  His mother went quiet for a second before responding.

“Christopher Robert, what is going on?  You better tell me this instant.”  Ugh she pulled out the middle name.  He hated that.

“Mom… it’s fine. Everything is fine.”  

“Yeah right.  Anyone that says fine that many times in thirty seconds is lying or selling something.  Spit it out.”  Chris rolled over before sitting up on the edge of the bed.

“I fucked up, mom.” He could hear her taking a long breath.

“Okay, let’s hear it.” The whole story came out over the next ten minutes.  She patiently listened as he poured his heart out, and hers broke listening to how defeated he sounded.  When he finished she took another breath and tried to tactfully proceed.  “Well that is certainly a mess, Chris.  Just keep trying is all I can say.  You made a mistake and right now you are going to have to deal with it.  She will come around eventually.  Just give her time to get over her own anger.”

“That’s just it mom, she wasn’t angry.  She sounded heartbroken.  I can deal with angry.  I don’t know what to do with heartbroken.  Not when I am the cause.”  They spent another twenty minutes on the phone before she told him to get some sleep and see what rest and a new day would look like to him.  It took a while for him to finally fall asleep.  When he did, the dreams were nightmares of losing you to someone else.  Someone who had comforted you after Chris had hurt you so badly.  The cold sweat he woke up in had his entire body shivering.

The end of the second day of the convention ended just at the first one with no word from you and him leaving many more messages.  It was driving him crazy.  He was tempted to call your parents to get a message through but there was a possibility of your father threatening some harm on him if he did not already know how he had hurt you.  There was nothing he could do right now.  Once he got back to the States he would do everything in his power to track you down and make you listen.  Chris was not going to lose you if he had anything to say about it.

 You still had another week and a half in Mexico and you were going crazy.  The filming hours were odd and you were exhausted.  Trying to ignore all of Chris’s texts and calls was getting to be too much.  It hurt too much to think about him.  How could he not trust you?  Especially after everything he saw you go through with David.  You flipped between being furious and completely destroyed. What you had with Chris was stronger than anything you had ever had before and now it was all falling apart. Despite him trying to get ahold of you. If there was no trust, then there was no point in continuing the relationship.  The thought of ending it made you want to throw up.  What else could you do though?

Every day there were more messages and every day you continued to ignore them.  You worked and slept.  Sometimes in there you would eat but not near as often as you did the other two things.  After you had finished the month of filming the cast had another night of food and drink. This time at the villa of one of the producers.  Everyone was having a wonderful time, except you of course.  You sat by watching the dancing and the fun as you continued to drink the sweet white wine you were brought.  Before too long you were thoroughly drunk and on the verge of falling asleep in the overstuffed chair on the deck.  The saltwater breeze lulling you as you laid back pulling your legs underneath you.  In minutes you were asleep with the party going on around you.

Before too long your phone started to ring in your hand loudly, but you were oblivious to it all. It just continued to ring over and over until finally David pulled it from your hand to answer it.

“Hello this is [Y/N]’s phone.”  That was not the voice Chris wanted to hear, his heart started pounding in his chest.

“Hi… where is [Y/N]?”

“She is dead asleep, drunk actually.  Probably because of you, I’m assuming.”  More words he did not want to hear.

“Is she okay?  Why are you answering her phone?”

“Umm no she is not okay and had not been okay for a few weeks.  Again, I figure this is your fault.  It’s been the same look on her face as when she found me cheating.  So if you fucked up you are a complete waste of fucking space.  She doesn’t need that shit.  I’m answering her phone because she got too drunk and fell asleep at this party.  I will make sure she gets back to her villa safe. So why don’t you fuck off and leave her alone.”  The phone went silent as David disconnected the call.

To say Chris went a little crazy may have been an understatement.  The phone went flying across the room landing somewhere on his living room floor.  He screamed as he could not do anything from Los Angeles right now.  All he wanted to do was fly down and get you to make sure you were safe then make you talk to him.  What a fucking mess!!

 When you woke up in the morning you were back in your villa in your bed still dressed in your clothes from the night before.  ‘Oh please tell me I didn’t drive home?!’ You wondered to yourself.  There was a male body sleeping on the couch in the living room. When you realized who it was you almost screamed.  What the actual fuck?

“David why are you here?” He groaned as he rolled over looking at you with one eye.

“I drove you back here. I couldn’t leave you sleeping on a random chair in the middle of all of that.  I needed to make sure you were safe, so I drove you here and went to sleep on the couch.”

Considering you were still clothed and you knew that David wasn’t that much of a douche to try and sleep with you when you were drunk, you had to thank him.  “I appreciate you getting me back here.  Thank you.  But I think you need to go.”

“Fine I will go.  Just make sure you do something to be happy again. Seeing you this sad is awful, [Y/N]. I made sure to tell that ass of a boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend whatever he is, that.”

“You what?  How the fuck did you even talk to him?”  The day was just getting worse by the moment.

“He called your phone while you were asleep.  Kept calling until I answered it.  I told him to fuck off and leave you alone.”

“Oh my God, David. Are you fucking kidding me?  I’m sure he thinks all the things he thought are justified now.  You got to go now.  What the hell am I going to do?”  You pushed David out the door, slamming it behind him.  Your heart beat was frantic though you realized you had done nothing wrong. “What am I going to do?”

 Chris had been thinking the same thing the entire night.  The short conversation with David had him imagining so many different scenarios. While he knew you would never cheat or have anything to do with David in that way again, it didn’t change the fact that dark thoughts were popping up.  He sat staring at the phone in his hand wanting more than anything to call you but was afraid of what would happen if he did.  Swallowing that fear, he pressed send and waited.

Your phone went off with Chris’s special tone shattering the silence in the villa.  Walking over to the nightstand where David must have set it, you picked it up slowly looking at a picture of you two kissing.  In a moment of indecisiveness, you hit the accept button.  It took a second to realize what you had done and hearing Chris’s voice made you choke up.

“Hello? [Y/N] are you there?”  You knew you were going to have to say something.

“Yeah… I’m here.”

“Fuck, [Y/N] I’m so glad you answered.”  You could hear he was breathless trying to express his relief.

“Look I only answered to tell you that nothing happened with David last night or ever.  I know you don’t believe me…”

“I believe you I swear. I’m so sorry.  I am a complete asshole…”  You hated it when he put himself down like that but right now he was correct in his assessment.

“Yeah you were.  I don’t really want to talk about it right now. I am hung over and not emotionally in the best spot to have this conversation.  When I get back to Tennessee in a few days we can talk.  But let me breathe.  I can’t take anymore texts or phone calls, Chris.  It just   hurts my heart.”  Chris took a long deep breath to keep from crying.  That fact he had hurt you so much killed him.

“Okay.  I promise I will leave you alone.  But please call me soon.  We need to talk.”

“We will.  Goodbye, Chris.”

“Bye, [Y/N].”  He added ‘I love you’ after the call had been disconnected.

  Part 14

Tags: @feelmyroarrrr  @bolontiku  @aquabrie    @malindacath  @almondbuttercup  @thegirlwithnodragontattoo @magellan-88 @jensenxnina  @thedoctorsnerdgirl  @waywardswain @tacohead13  @beckyboo1188  @pegasusdragontiger   @our-chaoticwhispers @castallandiangelo @smoothdogsgirl  @kitty11223   @sf0206 @debzybrazy @theresnotenoughwords @smurfielovesyouu @adeptkillsyasse   @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @white-chocolate-mocha-fan  @supernaturallymarvellous

[bhadpodcast]

Dark!Fic Cast - 01/29/2017

LINK: Dark!Fic Cast by BHAD Podcast

Thanks again to @fandomslash for compiling these fics!  You’re my hero!

Time: 00:07:50

Title: One More Night

Author: brokenpromisesandhope

Relationship: Sterek

Status: Completed

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9117376

Summary: Stiles and Derek both just got broken up with.. what are they to do.

—————————————————————————————

Time: 00:08:07

Title: Sweet Relief

Author: Muzik_Freak

Relationship: Sterek

Status: Completed

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/4295274

Summary: Stiles, an omega, wants children desperately, and he will go to any length to achieve his dream. He decided a glory hole was the perfect answer for his desires. All he wanted was for an alpha to impregnate him, nothing more.  Sometimes plans don’t always go as planned.

—————————————————————————————

Time: 00:09:05

Title: The Littlest Alpha

Author: triedunture

Relationship: Sterek

Status: Completed

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/653346

Summary: Derek and Stiles have taken out the Alpha Pack and pretty much saved the world. Okay, the town. Okay, their remaining friends. But the Alphas left something behind: a baby. And this baby is an Alpha too. Derek is determined to take care of the abandoned child, and Stiles is stuck going along for the ride. But Stiles doesn’t expect the ride to include seeing another side of Derek, or to find another way to say “family.”

—————————————————————————————

Time: 00:10:43

Title: Lord knows it would be the first time

Author: uraneia

Relationship: Sterek

Status: Completed

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/778759

Summary: Stiles is home from Berkeley for the summer, but only because he promised the pack. He’d rather not see Derek, because whatever the thing was that they were doing, they’re not doing it anymore, and it sucks. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have a choice. The betas tried a magical remedy for Derek’s melancholy, and now Stiles has a three-year-old who looks like Derek. Stiles doesn’t know how to deal with that, and he definitely doesn’t know how to tell the betas he and Derek were secret fuck buddies for a year and a half.

—————————————————————————————

Disclaimer:

Time: 00:16:50

Title: Darkness Rising

Author: Lostlamb

Relationship: Sterek + Derek Hale/Nogitsune

Status: Completed

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9486707

Summary: Rape/non con and forced pregnancy. Caution before entering.

—————————————————————————————

Time: 00:19:20

Title: For Neither Ever, Nor Never

Author: reliand

Relationship: Sterek

Status: Completed

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636501

Summary: a dark fic (AU) about Derek Hale’s sociopathic tendencies and the child he’s been matched with in a Big Brother, Big Sister program.

—————————————————————————————

Time: 00:20:04

Title: The Hope of Empty Men

Author: Paintedsmile

Relationship: Sterek

Status: Completed

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/3908545

Summary: While Stiles is trying to cope with everything he did under the control of the Nogitsune, Malia is quick to insinuate herself into his life and declares herself his ‘mate’. That would have been great if he’d actually been, y’know, interested, instead of trying to hold on to his sanity with both hands. His guilt combined with the fact that she has no idea about concepts such as ‘consent’, Stiles soon finds himself drowning. Will anyone reach him in time?

—————————————————————————————

Time: 00:23:01

Title: Wolves And Their Gods

Author: jettiebettie

Relationship: Sterek

Status: Completed

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1301950

Summary: Derek is a delusional cult leader, raising a pack in order to make offerings to his gods. And Stiles is his perfect sacrifice.

—————————————————————————————

Time: 00:24:32

Title: Carve My Name into Your Arm

Author: Jinxy, oldmanrenkas, secondstar

Relationship: Sterek

Status: Completed

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1742510

Summary: Stiles cannot love, because it isn’t something he can touch. The closest he’s ever felt, by his recollection, has been when he held someone else’s life in his hands. With one last gasping breath, their blood covering his hands, Stiles believed that what he felt deep within him was, in fact, love. It was adoration, in a way. A connection that could not be undone, could never be severed. Ending a life brought a rush unlike anything Stiles had ever felt, or would feel, of that he was certain.

—————————————————————————————

Time: 00:26:20

Title: might as well kiss the monster, laugh and fuck until you’re dead

Author: hoars Relationship: Sterek

Status: Completed

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682230

Summary: Breaking Bad AU - Collaborative, ensemble podfic of ‘might as well kiss the monster, laugh and fuck until you’re dead’ by hoars. 1hr5mins.  This is how Scott meets Peter. This is the beginning of Peter hijacking his entire life and twisting it from something normal and average to this shitstorm.

—————————————————————————————

Time: 00:27:40

Title: The Butchers Of Beacon Hills

Author: rainsoakedshoes

Relationship: Sterek

Status: Completed

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/2164518

Summary: Dubbed “The Beacon Hills Ripper” and “The Slasher of Beacon Hills” respectively two serial killers are stalking and killing members of the Beacon Hills community. Both Killers are fascinated with each other and begin to leave “gifts” for each other after each of their kills. They are both formidable in their own rights but together they are damn near unstoppable.

***

“I was hoping we’d get a chance to meet,” Derek told him.

“You’re The Slasher,” the young man said, surprised.

“And you’re The Ripper.”

“Stiles,” The other man said moving his blade away from Derek. “My name is Stiles.”

“Derek.”

—————————————————————————————

Time: 00:28:25

Title: So What If I’m Crazy (The Best People Are)

Author: mommymuffin

Relationship: Sterek

Status: Completed

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5730304

Summary: Bad things could happen to a person in this situation.

In fact…Stiles thinks there might be one happening to him right now. Like a good victim, Stiles startles when he’s faced with an unexpected stranger. Stiles, of course, had been expecting him. *A Serial Killer Sterek AU *

—————————————————————————————

Time: 00:29:50

Title: He’s My Best Friend; Also My Tormentor

Author: TheRoaringWolf

Relationship: Sterek

Status: Completed

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/4085419

Summary: Stiles and Derek were best friends. Growing up next door neighbours to each other they did everything together. They watched their first R rated movie together, drank their first stolen beer together, they were always at each others side. Then out of blue Derek turned on Stiles. He shut him out of his life and began to torment him; shoved him against the lockers in the hall, spread humiliating lies about him to the school, Derek made it his mission to make Stiles’ life a living Hell. Why? Stiles would ask himself that question everyday for the last three years. He had done nothing to cause this. He had loved Derek when all of a sudden he was pushed out of his life. One night, years later, Stiles is sitting by his bedroom window watching Derek’s silent house, remembering the days of their friendship, when one mistake will cause everything in Stiles’ life to be turned upside down and can only watch helplessly as everything falls apart.

—————————————————————————————

Time: 00:32:36

Title: Downfall

Author: Kinkyfics

Relationship: Sterek

Status: Completed

Link: Deleted - Check Dropbox

Summary: If you are still taking kinky prompts I would like to shamefully ask for a full on non-con scenario, with all the terrible fear that goes along with it. Not like rape-play but full on, Stiles can’t take it anymore, maybe Derek keeps going much longer than normal and Stiles begs for a break. And Derek doesn’t necessarily continue because he wants to hurt Stiles (although that would work well with a possessiveness take) but he just can’t control himself and just pins Stiles down and keeps going.

—————————————————————————————

Time: 00:34:21

Title: Windows

Author: dr_girlfriend

Relationship: Sterek

Status: Completed

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/4064446

Summary: Derek has a new neighbor who won’t stop looking.

—————————————————————————————

Time: 00:36:04

Title: Cornerstone

Author: Vendelin

Relationship: Sterek

Status: Completed

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1725518

Summary: Suffering from PTSD, ex-Marine Derek Hale moves back to Beacon Hills to open a bookshop and find a calmer life. That’s where he meets Stiles, completely by accident. Stiles is talkative, charming and curious. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s blind, he’s able to read Derek like no one else.

—————————————————————————————

Time: 00:37:21

Title: Inverso

Author: Saucery

Relationship: Sterek

Status: Completed

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1090771

Summary: In which Stiles is the werewolf with a dark past, and Derek is the hapless teenager he fixates on.

—————————————————————————————

Time: 00:40:00

Title: Derek’s Fucked Up

Author: cloudsarefluffy

Relationship: Sterek

Status: Completed

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/series/345308

Summary: My friend, Shelby, asked for this: “I want a fic where the whole pack goes camping. Alpha!Derek, Omega!Stiles. Maybe Stiles goes into heat on the trip? At some point I want Stiles to find a naked picture on Derek’s phone. I want there to be Dark!Derek. Surprise me.“I got you … I think. — Derek has been restraining himself for so long, and he doesn’t know how. Maybe he does, but either way it doesn’t matter. Stiles pushes his buttons, and Derek is one always a second away from snapping his jaws around the boys neck to claim him like he wants.

—————————————————————————————

Time: 00:44:35

Title: An Open Window

Author: ADevilsHunger (Dream_tempo)

Relationship: Sterek

Status: Completed

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/2081157/

Summary: It’s tempting, sometimes, to tell. When he catches Stiles looking at his ass, or when he lets his own touch slide a little too possessively, he finds himself want to come up behind the boy—cage him in and whisper in his ear. He wants Stiles’ to feel his chest pressing into him when he says that he knows the taste of his cock and the tang of his piss and the musk of his hole and the salt of his come.

—————————————————————————————

Time: 00:45:28

Title: From The Mouth of Babes.

Author: SheriffStilinski

Relationship: Claudia Stilinski/Stiles Stilinski

Status: Completed

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1609178

Summary: Claudia is breastfeeding and fingering herself. Incest. Stiles grew up learning how to please his mother.

—————————————————————————————

Time: 00:46:38

Title: The Sound of My Heartbeat

Author: Enirehtacelad

Relationship: Sterek

Status: Completed

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5749420

Summary: Derek finds out that the sheriff has been sexually abusing Stiles. Derek plots to kill the Sheriff for Stiles.

—————————————————————————————

Time: 00:46:58

Title: Starts with "F”, Ends with “U”

Author: RemainNameless

Relationship: Rafael McCall/Stiles Stilinski and Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Status: Completed

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/55628

Summary: An alternate (but compliant) canon wherein Rafael McCall and Stiles hook up pre-werewolf shenanigans. When McCall comes back to Beacon Hills, it quickly spirals out of Stiles’ control. Derek becomes his sole confidant, his anchor, and maybe something more.

—————————————————————————————

Time: 00:47:06

Title: Sex is Violent

Author: GiggleSnortBangDead

Relationship: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski/Stuart Stilinski, Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski/Stuart Stilinski, Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski/Stuart Stilinski/Derek Hale

Status: Completed

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/series/61922

Summary: Stiles gets raped by his twin Stuart. Stuart becomes a werewolf.  Peter gets involved.  Stuart takes videos and sends them to Derek.

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Time: 00:48:12

Title: Willing Bond

Author: VincentMeoblinn

Relationship: Sterek

Status: Completed

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5392847/

Summary: Deaton and Peter attempt to bond Derek to Deaton to control his interest with dangerous women, but Stiles gets in the way and Derek develops an unhealthy obsession with him that’s bordering on frightening.

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Time: 00:53:24

Title: Uncontrollable Desire

Author: sterekuntamed

Relationship: Sterek

Status: Completed

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/3316847

Summary: Derek needs to find a mate or else he looses his title as Alpha. So when he sees the small Omega he has to have him.

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Time: 00:53:58

Title: darling i’ve waited to greet you

Author: Sporks

Relationship: Sterek

Status: Completed

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/2689019

Summary: Derek kidnaps Stiles because he knows that Stiles will make the perfect mate, wife, and mother of his children. Stiles can’t make it clear that he’s not a chick

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Time: 01:07:50

Title: Teen Wolf Omegaverse AU

Author: VincentMeoblinn

Relationship: Sterek and Derek Hale/Isaac Lahey/Stiles Stilinski

Status: Completed

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/series/370883

Summary: Stiles has been waiting for years for his Master or Mistress to come along and buy him from the shop, and today is that day. — Derek claims his omega and heads home to introduce him to his fiance, who is rather shocked that Derek chose someone like Stiles. What no one expects is for someone from Stiles’ family to actually come looking for Stiles, or for crazy uncle Peter to become obsessed with the stranger.

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Time: 01:08:12

Title: The Land of Firsts and Seconds

Author: loser chic

Relationship: Sterek

Status: Completed

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/4760102

Summary: “Marry me.” Derek says. “Come on, you stubborn asshole! Give me one good reason you shouldn’t marry me.” Stiles is a transient single omega in times of political change and social upheaval. When new ‘Omega Protection Laws’ are passed Stiles is forced to choose between being mated or sent to government omega camps until he can be assigned a mate. Frightened, Stiles returns home after nine years of having no one and nothing to call his own where he reunites with his childhood best friend, alpha Derek Hale. Derek is now a pillar of the community and a wealthy land owner with a wife and a young daughter. With the passing of the new laws Derek offers to take Stiles as his second wife to save the omega from a life of uncertainty and danger. Stiles reluctantly agrees and now he must come to terms with his new place as the lesser wife of a powerful public figure, and all the unfinished business between him and his former best friend. All Derek knows is after years of confusing estrangement, Stiles is back and he doesn’t want to ever loose him again. But can Derek keep Stiles when the omega knows deep down he’ll always be second in Derek’s life?

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Time: 01:16:06

Title: More Than Biology

Author: DiscontentedWinter

Relationship: Sterek and Steter

Status: Completed

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/3686577

Summary: Stiles is a teenaged, unmated omega whose sixteenth birthday is fast approaching. Derek is the beta who loves him, and promises to claim him. And then it all goes to hell.

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Time: 01:48:16

Title: Pretty Human Virgin Boy Comes to the Pond- Feed Him All the Best Heads

Author: Delta_Immortal

Relationship: Sterek

Status: Completed

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/3692940/

Summary: Stiles knew it was a bad idea to go into the woods, but little did he know his actions would cause the death of everyone around him. Running from the thing that killed Danny, Scott and Stiles stumble upon a pond, which happens to hold a strange man named Derek who floats around in the middle of it. Derek assures them they’re safe now.  What appears to be salvation is nothing more than the start of the death of everyone Stiles cares about. The being known as Derek haunts him at every turn, unsatisfied until Stiles succumbs to Derek’s whims. Stiles isn’t sure if that involves sexing him or eating him, and he really doesn’t want to find out.

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Time: 01:50:40

Title: Wrapped Around Me

Author: 3rdgenderfromthesun

Relationship: Sterek

Status: Completed

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/8120350/

Summary: Stiles’ father moves him away from Beacon Hills to keep him safe only to face a parent’s worst nightmare when he falls deathly ill. Desperate, he returns to beg Scott for the bite, but Stiles never does anything normally so why would he become a werewolf when a wereoctopus is so much more fun? 

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This list was created from the Dark!Fic Cast by BHAD and reformatted for you by @FandomSlash

Special Thanks to these users for helping identify these works

@bhadpodcast  *  @thisdiscontentedwriter  *  @littlefrog1025  *  @anthcny

[ungluingstigma]

TRIGGER WARNING This article or section, or pages it links to, contains information about SELF-HARM and SUICIDAL THOUGHTS/ ATTEMPTS which may be triggering to those who struggle with suicidal ideation, cutting and other forms of self-harm.

September 2, 2015. The suicide attempt where I would have been successful without the intervention of the police. There’s a wide variety of topics on suicide that you’ll encounter on the internet: warning signs, what to do when your friend is suicidal, statistics and the impact of suicide, etc. What you don’t often hear about is what it’s like to survive an attempt, and how life changes in the immediate and far futures. And when you do, it’s about how friends and family surround the person with Hollywood like gestures of love and support. I’m here to share my story of life after my big attempt and dispell the misconceptions about life after an attempt.

I’ve dealt with suicidal thoughts for years. I’ve attempted suicide more times than I’m comfortable admitting. On the day before the big attempt, I was caught in a pretty big lie, and my whole support system was pretty upset about it. The night before, I stayed the night at a friend’s parent’s house because I was feeling unsafe after I had been caught. In the morning I woke up with this giant pit in my stomach. After trying to talk with my at-the-time boyfriend, we’ll call him M, I wasn’t feeling any better. While he said he’d still date me, it was going to take a long time to build his trust back. Since I suffer from Borderline Personality Disorder, I struggle with abandonment issues, and took his comments as a way to let me down easy and that he was really going to leave me. So upon hanging up, I drove to the local hardware store, and went to go look at the ropes. An employee came over and asked if I needed any help. I was lost trying to find a rope strong enough to hold my weight, so I disguised it as wanting to buy a rope to tie things to the back of my moped. I rode back to my apartment and… well you can imagine what happened next.

I called M’s mom, sobbing, and telling her that my life was over no matter what: if I lived or died. I then hung myself. I won’t go into detail. M’s mom had called an ambulance and the police. The police forced entry and saved me. They took photos of the scene and then threw away the rope. I was put in a neck brace and rushed to the hospital and went through nearly 24 hours of tests. At the end of it all, I was told there was swelling in my c-spine, and I’d have to wear the cervical collar for a month and a half. It was the most traumatic day of my life, and even 2 years later I haven’t told anyone what it was like, but I still have nightmares. Once I was medically cleared I was taken to the psych ward. I’ve blocked most of the following days out, so it’s all a blur, but in the days following I had a lot of phone calls. The first one was M’s mom checking up on me. She had brought me some toiletries and a journal when I had been transferred up to the psych ward, and wanted to know how things we going. I tried to ask about M and how he was doing, but she declined to answer, saying that he’d call me when he was ready. A few days later he called, and broke up with me. I reacted quite violently out of a place of hurt. I was crying and screaming at him, calling him a liar and saying that he was breaking his promises to me. It got to the point where he had to hang up on me. After talking to a nurse, I called his mom back and asked if he was willing to talk to me again, this time there’d be no screaming, and I’d be using my new skills I had been learning. Thankfully he agreed, and we had a mature conversation. I had now lost M and his family, which made up almost my entire support system back then. All I had left were my friends B and F. That didn’t last long… the next day I got a three-way call from B and F saying that they needed a break from me. The deal was no contact for two weeks – every message, DM or voicemail I tried to send would not be read and promptly deleted. After two weeks, they’d call me again, and we’d discuss if we’d stay friends and if so, what that will look like. So when I released to go home, my support system was gone. If I thought that was hard, I had another thing coming.

I was returning to an empty apartment. I had no central support. How do you return to a life you thought you were never supposed to live? I had heard stories about friends waiting at the patient’s home with letters about how much they love them or the patient gets a fresh and renewed outlook on life and everything is magically easy. NOT TRUE! Not only was I still in an unstable state of mind, but I had a cervical collar that screamed: “LOOK I WAS IN SOMETHING TRAUMATIC, PLEASE ASK ME ABOUT IT SO I CAN BLUSH, CRY AND RUN AWAY!” Furthermore, I when I did open up and tell someone what happened, many people had the audacity to tell me that I didn’t really try to kill myself and it was all fake. Those really got me. What was the cervical collar THAT THE HOSPITAL GAVE ME for then, huh? Just a prop I stole for my big lie? REALLY?  I know my credibility wasn’t the best at that moment in time, but still. Whenever someone told me my suicide attempt was faked, it drove me to want to kill myself even more. I was so hurt and mad that I’d want to prove them wrong, to show them that I was capable of ending my life.

The whole time I had my cervical collar on, I just wanted to hide. I returned to work during that period, and was flooded with questions from coworkers and clients. Because of the collar, it was difficult for me to do the back work, so I spent most of my time at the front desk, checking in and out clients and managing emails and phone calls. Believe me when I say that you don’t realize how much you use your neck until you can’t use it at all. Especially when it comes to riding a moped. Talking on the phone was rough too, so I felt like I was pretty useless during work. Which didn’t help my mental health. For our September monthly work meeting, we went rock climbing as a team building exercise. Everyone doubted my ability to actually climb the wall, but I made it to the top! It was the first time I felt good about something since my attempt.

Returning to life after an attempt is difficult. It’s hard to know what to say to people who know what happened, but even harder to come up with excuses when you don’t want people to know what happened. Because I attempted in my home, it was hard to walk past the spot every time I had to walk past it. It was hard to restart without any sufficient support. I had to learn my triggers, and if you think about it, to learn your triggers, you have to be triggered (more often than not) and dealing with those triggers can be a challenge. It’s more than tempting to relapse into self-harm, or to attempt suicide again. In my case, I had attempted suicide WITH my support system around me, so when I was triggered after my attempt I felt like there was nothing emotionally keeping me here anymore. My self-harm increased during this time. On social media, I came out as having Borderline Personality Disorder, but I mostly tried to portray having a perfect life and that I was entirely happy. I overcompensated for my “failure” by faking happiness. There’s no magical change where things get better, there’s no party where everyone in your life tells you how much you are loved and then you suddenly are healed.

If you were wondering, I was given a clean bill of health. 

What’s important in life after an attempt is that you DO continue to seek professional support once you are released from the hospital – a therapist, psychiatrist, even your primary care doctor works in a pinch. It’s also important that you increase your self-care, and give yourself leeway in your recovery because things will not go perfectly. If you have a support system, give them space to process how they need, but don’t be afraid to ask for help if they’re in a headspace to do so. You’re not alone, and you’ve got this.

If you or someone you know is struggling with suicidal thoughts: Call the Suicide Hotline at 1-800-273-8255 or text  HELP to the Crisis Text Line at 741741

After an Attempt TRIGGER WARNING This article or section, or pages it links to, contains information about SELF-HARM and…