#i just think it could have made everything that much more angsty and heartwrenching and complicated

[nancyxhardy]

I think it would have been more interesting if Lucy had turned out to be Flynn's wife. And the whole time Flynn was being their 'enemy' he had to be pretending that wasn't his WIFE alive and well and right there. Like even if Lucy still ended up with Wyatt. Except also I think when Jessica showed up it should have been Amy. Like Wyatt's wife should have been Amy, and Amy should have been fully devoted to the family cult, but didn't know Rittenhouse had had Lucy and her daughter killed in the future. Also they killed the grand architect of Rittenhouse too soon, and he should have been more evil. Jiya and Rufus are perfect, no notes.

[igarbagecannoteven]

Helllllo you seem like someone who reads a lot of fanfictions so i wanted to ask if you can recommend some cake fanfictions? Rather longer ones than oneshots that you currently like? That’d be awesome 🤲🏻 no worries if not!

ok i typed up an extremely detailed answer to this ask only to accidentally delete it but! hopefully i can remember everything i said (if not i shall commit major crimes) anyways if i’m missing something it’s definitely because of that and not bc i spaced it,,,, okay take 2 answering this ask

hi anon!!! i am so incredibly honored that you appreciate my taste in fic enough to ask me for recs i am all !!! i do need to issue 2 disclaimers b4 i begin: 1) i only started reading 5sos fic this fall so there are def other people who have better knowledge than me and 2) i don’t read explicit fics which limits the amount of fic i read/the ones i can rec. however! i am pretty sure i’m one of the only people who searches for 5sos fic by wordcount instead of pairing so if you’re looking for long(er)fic you’ve come to the right place :)) cake is a rather popular fic at the moment so there’s tons of good fic out there beyond what i’m going to rec here! i’m just going to list a few of my favs and if anyone knows of any good fics i left off feel free to add them! (i’m only going to be recc’ing completed fic as a matter of principle but if other people want to go crazy!) also, since i don’t know what you consider “longer fic” i’m going to put the word counts by each fic so you know what you’re getting into lol (i did make sure none of these recs are under 10k tho) okay with all that being said i guess i’ll dive right in!

if you’re a fan of cake fic you almost definitely know of the incredibly talented unofficial queen of cake @kaleidoscopeminds but just in case you should 100% check out her ao3! she has several longer fics, but my personal favorites are flatmate au (20k), journalist calum/musician luke au (16.8k), and her roadtrip fic (36.6k). they’re all incredibly written and clever and funny (with just the right amount of angst) so if you haven’t checked them out i highly recommend it! 

if when you said longfic you *really* meant longfic, then you have to check out vegas au (88.4k) by @emmybazy from all the way back in 2014! it has some absolutely stunning worldbuilding and has a very unique way of framing the plot that i’ve never seen in fic before which made it a very refreshing read for me! if you’re looking to get lost in a fic this is the one for you 😊

moving along to another member of cake royalty, @staticsounds is a brilliant fic writer with loads of cake fics! (you should definitely check out her ao3 if you’re a cake person) my personal favorites of her longer cake fics are her la au (40.4k) and the cake version of bake off au (17.9k)! they’re both total showstoppers (get it? bc bake off? yes i do think i’m hilarious thank u) while also having very different moods? if that makes sense? like they both fit different vibes i look for at different times which is wonderful!!

and of course i can’t talk about molly and not bring up one of my favorite fic projects of all time, which was her collab with the spectacular @cringeycal for their college dance au (15k) & college pet au (14.7k) (that is a horrible way to describe it and i apologize but it’s also 6 am and i haven’t slept yet so cut me some slack) these are both genius and hilarious and i could go on about them for actual hours so if you haven’t read them yet go crazy go stupid and if you don’t love them i’ll eat scorpions on live television :))

how could i talk about cake fics without bringing up beloved hanukkah fic (13.6k) by the light of my life @clumsyclifford?? this fic is not only just a lovely piece of prose all around it just has so much love and warmth and fluff it’s practically overflowing and i personally think it should be required reading bc it’s so !!! bella hasn’t written any other cake over 10k but i have yet to read a fic of hers i haven’t loved so if you’re looking for some shorter cake (or longer of another pairing) you should def check out her ao3 😊

if you’re looking for some angsty fic, i highly recommend @lifewasradical ‘s fic where calum leaves the band (10.1k) it is absolutely heartwrenching in the best way!! she also has an adorable bakery au (11k) that is extremely fluffy and cute!! 

there’s also her collab with @pixiegrl for their wrong number au (16.1k) if you’re looking for some disaster college kids making a mess of falling in love! 

ok this post is getting very long and the sun has just risen (insert yikes emoji) so i’ll wrap it off with @michaelsarmbandtattoo ‘s trans luke au (12.8k) which balances fluff and angst extremely well imo and is a great read! 

ok it is now past 6:30 am and i have an appointment at 10 and have yet to sleep so! that’s all for now! i am almost certainly forgetting some excellent fic but my brain is fried from last week of the semester vibes so someone else can fill in the blanks. this is probably way more rambly than you were looking for but it wouldn’t be a megs’ production if it wasn’t :)) thanks for asking for recs i’d love to do this again sometime for another pairing! (not this week tho lol) 💙

[blarrghe]

Hi! I'm going to go for a dramatic one for the cliché prompts: "You’re in a coma and I confess all my feelings only for you to wake up" for Fenders (or whoever you prefer) if that works for you <3

I’m on a bit of a Dorianders kick and can’t seem to stop, so thank you very much for the prompt but I went a bit off book with it... hope that’s alright w you.

I altered this a little to “Dorian’s father is asleep on his deathbed and he confesses all his pent up feelings only for Anders to walk in”

So that’s um, how modern au Resident!Anders and Politician!Dorian met. It got a bit long and is very very angsty.

Summary: Anders is a resident working rough hours at a hospital (in Tevinter?? look this is just going to be a series of ficlets I have not worked out the details yet), struggling with his medical debts and work-related sleep deprivation. Dorian is an idealistic politician working his way out of his recently deceased father's shadow. They meet when Anders is attending to his father on his death bed, and things go from there, I guess.

--

Anders took a deep breath. With it, the something hissing over his heart settled down to a whisper. The hospital always beset him with inner whispers; not a good feeling, but one that compelled him on, nevertheless. Pediatrics hit the hardest, the injustice of it all, but being there also kept his mind steady. Doing something. Critical Care was different. There wasn't usually a lot he could do, in the Critical Care wing. And his rounds today had him facing that patient, the one for whom there was nothing to be done, and who set his obsessively helpful spirit into split ends, because he was also an absolute asshole. When Anders was in a room with him, under steely eyes and the cracking whip of his tongue, the disease in him felt deserved, and some part of Anders burned like blue fire, so hot it took biting his cheek bloody to restrain his bedside manner from bad attitudes. The disease is never deserved, he reminded himself and the licks of flame that still remembered the patient's rude barkings from last time. Even in rich men who in life had been given much more than they ever did deserve, a death like this one was still a hard death, and people who are dying are allowed to die angry. So he took another deep breath, because dealing with some patients just needed that much more breathing, but he could still do his job. And that was the job; to be there, at the end, for anyone.

He was getting worse, sleeping more. It wouldn't be long now, and Anders tried not to be relieved. He checked his charts, his monitors, the IVs still barely holding him up. Increased the morphine, for his pain, and finished without saying a word. For a moment, he almost missed it; at least when the man was swearing at him and ranting in indecipherably bigoted tirades, he was lively. He sighed, staying the extra moment to offer the man's sallow cheeks a sympathetic glance. Death was a natural part of life, and he was old, and an asshole, and maybe he didn't deserve it but... soon the bed would be free again, and that would be alright.

When he turned to leave, there was a dark figure sitting on the bench in the hall outside. He was reading a magazine but not flipping the pages, one leg crossed over the other in the stiff posture of someone who is uncomfortably waiting for uncomfortable news. One of the family. Anders took another deep breath. He hadn't had dealings with the wife, but he'd overheard them well enough. An unpleasant woman for an unpleasant man, trying to buy off death and then trying to kick the whole hospital down with her complaining when she couldn't. If the man waiting outside now took after either of them, his shift was about to get a whole lot worse.

He stepped out into the hall, and the man looked up from his magazine. His features were striking, sculpted. Skin the deep, radiant bronze that Anders was sure his father's would have been, back in his youth before misery and disease stole its colour. And he was, unmistakably now, his asshole patient's son; same steely grey eyes, right down to the faint creases beside them, and just as unfeeling.

"Are you his doctor?"

Usually, that question, asked at this point in the process of losing someone, was croaked out. But the son didn't croak, he asked his question with a continued lack of feeling, and a bit of impatience.

"Not his attending, only a resident. I can page the doctor, if you'd like,"

"No, that's fine. Can you just tell me how long?" The man stood up, tall. Much taller than the way people usually stood in hospital corridors; poised and proud in his posture — not actually taller than Anders, but he felt it. Still a little stiff maybe, but anything uncomfortable was covered up by how well he fit into his suit; smooth and black and clinging to his body like it was made to hold him. Anders blinked, "how long he has," the son clarified unnecessarily, still coolly impatient, "I have places to be, you see."

His eyes wandered past Anders, hesitating over the window to the room where his father lay dying, then snapping back again. Not entirely unfeeling after all, but the sadness in them was troubled by something else, still indecipherable. Anders wondered what kind of relationship a son could have with a father — a father like that — for so many secrets to be buried in that glance.

Anders swallowed. No he didn't, he decided, but the thing that whispered care into his heart was wondering, catching onto the well-hidden glimpse of feeling in the man, craving already to comfort the rest.

"A few days, maybe." He answered, gentle with the news. The son nodded once. "You should say your goodbyes."

The son was looking past him again, back through the window at the sleeping form of his father, more unhappy secrets set into his jaw. Anders watched the jaw tense, and stay there.

"In a few days, maybe." Replied the man, though he barely moved his tense jaw to say it. "He's awake."

Anders turned to follow the man's eyes, landing his own gaze on a twitching hand and barely moving bedsheets. He didnt look back again before darting into the room to offer his patient care.

"Dorian?" Croaked the patient, steely grey eyes opening to scan his face, and then closing in apparent disappointment.

"Your son? He's right outside, I'll —" but he wasn't. The tall, statuesque man was gone, the magazine left lying open on the bench outside in an empty white hallway. "I'm sure he'll be back soon." Anders amended, attempting to offer a bright spot of hope. His patient grunted.

Anders took a step away from the bedside, but as he did a thin, wrinkled hand shot out, and grabbed him by the wrist. The cold, unfeeling eyes opened, except now they were sad. "A word of advice, if you don’t want to be disappointed in life, don't have children." Even breathy and hoarse, he managed to give his voice bite. Then his asshole patient's gaze fell on the little gold earring hanging from Anders’ ear, and he coughed. Anders took a deep breath in preparation for another insult, and to help him recover from the bit of unfriendly advice. "You're lucky they don't let you people have them."

Anders tried not to sigh. The dying are allowed to die angry. "I'm sure he'll be back." He said again.

----

Dorian. The name stuck to him almost as well as his tight black trousers, and Anders couldn't help but turn it over a few times in his mouth after he left the room. He made the rest of his rounds, and checked back in on father-of-the-year Pavus a few more times, lying to himself about what he was hoping to find. Dorian. He never did come back though, not during visiting hours of that day, nor the day after. On the third day things weren't looking well, and Bride of Asshole Pavus had alerted everyone on staff to the fact that it was their fault, even the poor janitors. The bed would probably be free again by the end of his shift.

He made his rounds, thinking as little about that particular patient and his particularly unpleasant wife as he could, trying to tell his inner whisperings that it wasn't worth being sad over, even if the son never said goodbye. Maybe he didn't deserve one, how could Anders judge? (Everyone deserves one). Under his breath, Anders told himself to shush. (If not for the father's sake, then for his own). Again, shush. Then, through the too-thin walls and slightly ajar door as he made his way down the glaringly white hallway, Anders heard muttering. Sad, broken, angry muttering. He stopped.

" —I don't want it." the phrase was repeated a few times, some utterings angry, others sad, all of them broken. "I don't want your life. I don't want to be you. I don't —" Dorian. Dorian choking on a sob. Anders took a step back, careful about the squeak of his shoes. "I don't even know why I —" he tried not to listen in (no you didn't), but the door was ajar. "Everything. I could become everything you ever asked of me and it would still never be enough, so I don't know why I— I —" there was another heartwrenching choke to a stop, then a gutteral sound of frustration that Anders could feel in his own gut. "Just once. You couldn't say it just once?" It sounded like the kind of question he wouldn't be getting an answer to even if the man were conscious. "I'm sorry." Anders felt that in his gut too, and the thing he was trying to keep quiet inside him wondered if the words were from Dorian to his father, or the ones Dorian was begging his unconscious body for, or both.

In hospital rooms, the sound of beeping monitors disappeared into the fray. Wheels on stretchers trundling down the halls, squeaking shoes on linoleum, ventilators whirring and monitors beeping. They only sounded like anything when they stopped, and let out that one long note to signify the end. Dorian choked out his apology several more times, once sad, once angry, always desperate, and then the monitor stopped beeping, drowning out his gasps for air with its ending, and Anders had to do his job. He walked in.

Dorian shot up. Hands swiping at his red eyes and posture somehow rising without even a hint of hunch, and Anders pretended poorly not to see any of it. The attending came, procedures were followed, and Dorian disappeared into the waiting room like he was supposed to, without a look back.

The wife was gone by the time Anders poked his head into the waiting room. It wasn't his job to tell the family, and the news had long been shared, but something told him to peek in anyway. He took another deep breath when he saw him — this family really seemed bent on messing with his breathing — sitting, one long leg crossed over the other, staring down a terrible cup of coffee, not drinking it. He sat straight, his skin shone, his suit fit him like a glove and not a hair on his head was out of place, but he looked tired. Dorian. Anders approached cautiously. It would be a while before the family could take the body, and he should go home, rest. He told him as much, to a response of slow nods. Then Dorian looked up from his coffee, eyes emotionless except for the fact that they were lined in watery red.

"I'm just waiting for my mother to finish hounding her lawyers," he said, and despite himself Anders looked about nervously, "she's not here, don't worry. She left for home an hour ago. If I wait another, she'll have tired herself out and passed out under a bottle of wine." He sighed heavily, "could use one myself, but to be honest with you I don't quite feel like going home." His eyes flicked up into Anders' with a dim light of mischief, and Anders wondered what his looks could do for him on a good day. Things Anders could never hope to achieve, no doubt.

Anders offered him the carefully crafted soft smile he reserved for these kinds of things, and said “sorry for your loss” with just a touch more feeling than most patients’ families received, since the man looked like he needed it. 

“Can’t say the same to you I suppose,” Dorian replied, shaking his head, “though I am sorry.”

Anders opened his mouth, struggled to find anything to do with it, and then closed it again. 

“For my mother,” Dorian explained as he put the coffee cup he was still holding down on the low table in front of the chair he was decorating, apparently giving up any semblance of drinking it, “I’m sure his care was better than he deserved, but she doesn’t do well in situations she can’t control. It won’t come to anything.” 

Anders nodded slowly. Better than he deserved? A phrase Anders might have thought himself, over the past few weeks of dealing with the irate patient as he approached death’s door, but now that he’d gone through it, something about the sentiment irked him.

“Everyone deserves compassionate care,” he corrected with another careful smile, “the best chance we can give, and comfort when that’s spent. No less.” 

The response did something odd to Dorian’s face; first a sigh, then it transmuted itself into a strangled sort of laugh, while he shook his head and regarded Anders with still-dull eyes. “Well, it can’t have been easy,” he muttered, eyes landing on Anders’ soft smile, which he hoped was still there. “Thank you.” 

Anders left him then, offering one more nod and smile before turning away to finish the rest of his shift. Two hours later, changed out of his scrubs and into his tattered old jacket over his tattered old t-shirt and jeans, he walked by the waiting room again, on his way out. Dorian was still there, still staring down that same cup of undrunk coffee. 

“Mr. Pavus, ser?” 

Dorian started at the sound, and looked up from the coffee with an almost angry light in his icy eyes. “Please, Maker, call me anything but that.” 

Anders swallowed. “It’s — it’s Dorian, isn’t it?” Dorian nodded, “Dorian,” saying his name to his face felt wrong, somehow, “it’s getting rather late, is there someone I should call for you?” 

Dorian shook his head. “No,” he sighed. “Are there any bars nearby? A really terrible one, preferably.” 

Anders frowned, but there was a pretty terrible bar just across the street, stuck into a hole in the wall of an alley, with grimy old barstools and floors littered in peanut shells, so he told him so. Dorian stood, always so tall. 

“Thank you, Doctor…” 

“Anders,” he attempted a smile, but there was a good deal too much worry in it, he was sure, “just Anders; I’m off duty.” 

Dorian turned from him, then suddenly turned back. “Would you care for a drink, Anders?” 

Anders blinked. “I uh —” 

“You’ve seen the last of what was undoubtedly your worst patient today, haven’t you? Don’t tell me you didn’t plan to celebrate.” 

His brows creased unhappily, all on their own, and something inside him whispered back the memory of that broken bedside apology. “I wouldn’t —” 

“You should. I aim to. On me?” There was that light of mischief again, a little brighter, coupled with what could almost be a smirk. Maker, was he flirting? 

“I don’t drink.” 

Dorian frowned, and Anders almost wished he did. “A bowl of peanuts on me, then.” Dorian amended his offer with a shrug. And for some unknown reason, Anders nodded. 

“Alright.” 

[spnfanficpond]

June 2020 Angel Fish Awards

(New Angel Fish design by @slytherkins!!)

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words.

The monthly Angel Fish Awards are peer-nominated, meaning ANYONE IN THE POND CAN NOMINATE ANY POND MEMBER’S FIC. While the Pond was founded to support the Guppies, everyone in this community deserves to be showered with love and feedback, and we hope that by opening this up as a Pond wide system, we’ll be able to share the love as far as it can go.

NOTE: WE’VE BEEN HAVING OCCASIONAL PROBLEMS WITH ASKS GOING MISSING. Please use the Submit button when submitting your nominations and make sure you’re signed into Tumblr or your URL won’t show. (If the form asks for your name and email address, then you’re not signed in.) If you like, you can also send a message to Michelle @mrswhozeewhatsis or Mana @manawhaat to check and make sure we got your submission.

Be sure to read through this whole post as people who were nominated more than once only had one tag activated for tumblr tagging purposes!

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, HERE ARE JUNE’S ANGEL FISH AWARDS!

Nonimated by @thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters

I Thought You Were Going To Die (oneshot) by @fun-and-fandoms

My nominations for the month wouldn’t be complete without a little bit of angst. Though this one isn’t just that. If you’re easily triggered by mentions of depression and its symptoms, this one’s not for you. But it’s an important topic and I will always encourage any creator who uses their art to remind people it’s okay to talk about it. (Note from Kale, this was actually submitted in May but I missed it.) 

More to Me (oneshot) by @becs-bunker

No spoilers, but I’m so glad this ended the way it did. So sweet <3

Help  (oneshot) by @blushingjared

I came across this fic and was immediately intrigued. Then I started reading and I was captivated from the first sentence until the very last. The author did such a good job with setting the scene and painting the right picture.

Talking Bodies (oneshot) by @ne-gans

This AU-Sam is such a huge weakness of mine. That, in combination with this dangerously filthy masterpiece, is nothing short of perfection.

Nominated by @focusonspn

Into The Woods (series) by @amanda-teaches

So well written, interesting plot and great development. The chemistry between Y/N and Dean is also amazing, and I loved how this mini-series could be so easily part of the show. Totally worth reading.

Nominated by @thoughtslikeamindfield 

Stranger Than FanFiction (series) by @cherry3point14

The premise is similar to the film Stranger Than Fiction – a story about a story being written about you – and it’s just as hilarious. Also, Cherry Pie is still one of the funniest writers in this corner of SPN fandom.

“You’re not supposed to move your head if there’s someone trying to murder you, probably…”

No, I wouldn’t think so, but lollllll

“You’re being insane, out loud.”

Omgggg

“It tried, oh, how the door tried to divert her attention from the unknown men who could be terrible, rule-breaking influences on her. However the door was only wood and she was a stubborn woman made of free will and limbs—a woman who refused to be deceived.”

“Your hand is on the doorknob before the mention of your limbs has finished rattling around your head.  Realistically you don’t want to encourage the voice by doing what it says. After all, the voice’s ultimate goal seems to be killing you.”

BAHAHAHAH omfg you guys

I need to stop quoting from this bc I probably seem insane to those of you who haven’t read this, so stop being judgy buttheads and go read!

Nominated by @flamencodiva

The Choice (series) by @superfanficnatural

A couple of things. 1) this is an amazing fic that highlights Dean unwillingness to let himself go until it’s almost too late. and 2) the smut in this is hot hot hot hot! not for anyone under 18 years of age.

Mert has a way with words and can literally pluck you into one and make you see it as it comes to life in your head.

Mine (series) by @holylulusworld

Lulu has an abundance of different stories she tells and this one is my favorite of her ABO’s at the moment. (although I love all of them) I think this one deserved a mention. I am glad she joined to Pond so I could help nominate and spread her amazing work!

One Night at a Time (series) by @crashdevlin

Another great fic by Cassie! This one shot full of Angst, Smut, and if you squint just the right amount of Dean fluff. She has a way of capturing your attention and putting you in the world as you read.

What He Lost (oneshot) by @jensengirl83

This short story by Brandy is sure to rip your heart out. she leaves just a bit of hope where you think there is a chance only to crush it completely with the ending. This one is sure to bring you to tears if you are looking for the most delicious angsty story to read.

Nominated by @risingpheonix761

Down The Rabbit Hole (oneshot) by @dontshootmespence

So, this was hysterical. XD I love crack fics, and bad smut in particular, and this one hits the spot. (I’ve also learned several new horrible euphemisms lol). The ending, though? Golden!

Nominated by @myinconnelly1

The Affair (oneshot) by @holylulusworld

I love how well all the characters are portrayed I truly hate everyone except the reader! Well done!!  

Red Riding Hood - or how you ran into a wolf... (oneshot) by @holylulusworld

I have nothing to say about this. I will simply allow the puddle I have become to speak for me. 

Last Omega On Earth (oneshot) by @holylulusworld 

This was a great entry in the ABO world. and we need more of this and more like !!!!! Great work!

My Beta (oneshot) by @holylulusworld

I am a greedy little bitch with this fic.  I think I've read it 3-4 since i first read it this month!!!!!! READ THIS FIC!  

Third Period (oneshot) by @fictionalabyss

Some truly inspiring smut.  Inspiring to change my panties. 

Gods of Twilight (series) by @thecleverdame​

I think i posted this fic in my rec before, but it is so amazing and intricate that i can't stop gushing about it.  Fucking awesome. 

Apple Pie (oneshot) by @bad268​ 

The amazingness of this is great, check this guppy out!

Deal (oneshot) by @bad268 

Comedy at some of its's finest!!! 

Confession (oneshot) by @idreamofplaid

THE FLUFFFFFFF!!!! I don't read straight fluff.  So get the tissues ready.

Fallen (series) by idreamofplaid

My therapist has told me i'm not longer allowed to talk about this fic during our sessions.  So instead i shall now talk about it here... *pulls out soapbox* ahem... *gets pulled away with hook*

Memory (oneshot) by @idreamofplaid

This fic is older, but i love it so much.  I recently went back and reread it, and the angst and reconciliation in this fic are heartwrenching.

Home (oneshot) by @emilyshurley

My dentist bill the month was higher than normal, due to the new cavities caused by this fic.

Imperfectly Yours (oneshot) by @emilyshurley

Cuteness overload as you get Dean's perspective of Home ^^

Second Hand News (oneshot) by @emilyshurley

Alright listen. I am a glutton for punishment.  And this fic, I asked for.  Also i had it set within one of the universes we now own.  That all being said, reading this was like a dose of my own medicine and it fucking hurt.

Honesty And Lies (oneshot) by @crashdevlin

This was super dirty, and great.  Totally recommend. 

Nominated by @deanwinchesterswitch

The Classifieds (oneshot) by @talesmaniac89

This is rip your heart out and stomp on it angst right here. So well written, but so, so heartbreaking.

So Much More Than Perfect (oneshot) by @imagineteamfreewill

This fic is one of the sweetest things I’ve ever read. It made me tear up a bit, but who doesn’t love Dean being the most protective, most adorable dad ever?!

Nominated by @mariekoukie6661

Dear Dean (series) by @smol-and-grumpy

It’s one of those series that makes you wants more after every chapter. It’s a brilliant story.

Left Behind (series) by @kittenofdoomage

It’s the only John Fic I can read over and over and over again. Its hot, the plot is awesome! And it makes me wants more each and every time I read it.

Not Much Left (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

I think Beka tries to kill her readers every time she writes smut… or she just tap into our mind what we want or what we fantasize about. Every single time I’m speechless by her talents!

Yes Professor (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

It’s a Misha fic, there’s no one who write Misha the way Beka does!!!

Owe You One (series) by @supernatural-jackles

It’s such a great series! The friends with Benefit and Mechanic!Dean… I just love this so much and I don’t have words to describe how good this one is!!

Flirty In French (oneshot) by @fictionalabyss

This is brilliant, and I know its an old one, but from someone who finally decided to read more and from someone who is from Quebec, this is absolutely brilliant! The flirty french pick up line are so hilarious!

Nominated by @moosekateer13

Watching for Comets (series) by @holylulusworld

This fic beautifully captures the song that it was inspired by.

It also showcases things that when things are meant to be.

I’ll will all fall into place.

Please Trust Me (oneshot) by @holylulusworld

This fic beautifully emotionally captures what it’s like to have trust issues.

Nominated by @fictionalabyss

Last Call (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer 

It was everything we needed and wanted.

Culinary Exploits (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer  

Too utterly ridiculous not to get a mention.

His Omega (oneshot) by @iflostreturntosteverogers 

A sweet little comfort fic of Dean being utterly perfect caring for his Omega. Carrie also pulled off keeping this gender neutral, which isn’t something I see a lot of, and probably something I’d struggle with, so hats off to you, babe.

Poison (oneshot) by @supernatural-jackles 

YES omg i feel this on such a level. I’ve gone through that shit myself. A friend who lets you down so profoundly but then acts as if you’re the most toxic person in the world.  Nothing feels as good as letting go of that shit and moving on to better things. This was beautiful, and perfect, and TRUTH.

Amara (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer  

This one hurt. It really hurt, but it hurt so good that I’m left wanting more.

Take Me Now (oneshot) by @sorenmarie87  

If Dawn doesn’t continue this, I’ll riot.

Stuck On You (oneshot) by @kittenofdoomage  

I rarely read a fic this long (I just don’t usually have the time) but it looked too interesting for me to scroll past, and it had me completely captivated. I needed to know what would happen as if I needed air, even though I could guess how it ended, I needed to read the words. Phenomenal.

Thank you all for the awesome work and great feedback!

These are not actual awards! This system is set up so everyone in the pond has a chance to share the love and promote a fic/author that has grabbed your attention. The more people that participate, and the more everyone remembers to submit their own fics after posting, the better this will be :D

THANK YOU ALL AGAIN, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!

[superthiccthighssavelives]

Angsty Prompts

Alright @primaba11erina, here is part 1/2 of your prompts.

It’s long af, so I had to split it into 2 pieces, it’s really sad honestly, and my heart hurts from writing it, but hopefully this is what you wanted from them. ❤

Please listen to:

*Ocean Eyes - Billie Ellish*

*Everything to Help You Sleep - Julien Baker*

*The Beach - The Neighbourhood*

(and whatever heartwrenching music you have to get into the mood)

The 2 prompts from the angsty list are in bold

48- “You’re hurting me”

49- “Please just let me go”

@alyss--in--wonderland, @linseykalynn, @jolovesfandoms and whoever else wants to read it.

I’m 3 months into my first semester at college, and I’m completely miserable. I missed my family, I missed my friends, and I especially missed my boyfriend. I knew it was going to be hard, without everyone, but not this hard. I walked around with a black cloud over my head, I couldn’t sleep, I lived off black coffee and my best friend was a tube of concealer. 

My boyfriend, Taron, and I had been together since middle school, ya know the innocent puppy love, developing into a more serious relationship. We were always together, we never fought, well rarely, it was so easy with him. He was my best friend. We barely talk. Between classes, studying, sleep?, and everything else, it’s usually twice a week. A quick goodnight here and there, and maybe facetime on the weekend. This sucks. I haven’t even seen him since I left.

He stayed back in London, going to a drama school. His talent was too good to pass this opportunity up. We agreed before I left to make sure nothing would change, we both cried like babies, and couldn’t let one another go. After a few hours, I had to tear myself away or I’d end up staying. 

Now, 3 months later, I feel like we’re strangers. It may be naive to think that we could keep this relationship from destructing, especially being so young, but, we really do have an amazing thing going. Or did. I tried to concentrate on school, but as time passed, and more time passes, my thoughts get farther and farther away from that, and are planted in worry and ...that uncomfortable, writhing, anxiety ridden feeling in my stomach.

It’s Friday, and I’m about to finish my last class. I wish I could go home for the weekend, maybe take a day or two off after, to see my mom, my sister, and Taron. I don’t even think we’ve talked in a week, the anxiety was building back up again. We basically were playing phone tag, he’d call when he was free, but I was in class, I’d call him but he’d be in rehearsal. I hate this. I hate this so goddamn much. 

I drag myself back to the dorms, skipping the coffee, I just want to sleep. I feel like a snail, I’m practically crawling back. Halfway down the hall, I see someone standing by my door. My eyesight is terrible, I can’t see anything more than 6 feet in front of me. I try to focus my gaze, figuring it was another dude my roommate was banging. As I get closer, my heart speeds up, I see him, my boyfriend, and I very nearly knock him over as I plow into him with a hug. 

“Oh my god, what are you doing here?”

He smiled, god, I love his smile, I missed it.

“Surprise!”

I felt tears welling up in my eyes, I couldn’t believe it. He was really here. 

All I could do was stare at him, study his face, the color of his eyes, his pink lips, the way the front of his hair has a little curl to it. I barreled myself into him again, squeezing as hard as I could. I don’t care if we just stay like this for however long he’s here, I don’t want to let him go. 

He pulled back, placing his hands on either side of my face. 

“Are you alright sweetheart?” 

I sniffled, realizing I had actual tears dripping down my face. 

“I just, I really missed you.” “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I was going crazy not being able to talk to you, I’ve been miserable.” “My mam got sick of me, I was kind of being a dick, so she bought me a bus ticket to come for the weekend.”

I grabbed his hand, pulling him into my room. My legs were starting to get weak, the walk to the dorms is a bit aways from campus, and I hadn’t slept proper in weeks. A yawn slipped out, maybe I should have grabbed that coffee after all. 

“Bored of me already?” A cheeky smile spread across his face

“Sorry, I’ve had a rough couple of weeks, I’m just a little tired.”

I moved closer, sitting on his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck, pressing my forehead to his.

“I’m so so so so so happy you’re here, I can’t even tell you how much.” I could feel my eyes watering again, I really was draining myself so much that I’d become an emotional mess. 

He wiped my stray tears away with his thumb, and gave me a gentle kiss. I wanted to stay like this forever. He felt like home, comfort, my heaven. My lips returned to his, just wanting to feel him, his body, his energy, his whole being, just close.

This feeling was so overwhelming, I stopped and just pulled him closer again, my head on his shoulder. His arms were wrapped as tight as they could be around me, rubbing my back.

He soothed me, whispering in my ear, kissing my cheek, my temple. 

Eventually I let the craziness pass, and asked what he wanted to do while he was here.

He shrugged “Really, just wanted to see you.”

I couldn’t help but smile. He brought out what I hadn’t felt in months, happiness. 

We ordered a pizza and watched movies on my laptop, while I struggled to stay awake. His body was warm, and familiar, and my eyes were drooping, and I ...was...so...tired. 

I snuggled up as close as I could get to him, his arm wrapped around me, his hand twirling around in my hair. I felt more and more relaxed as each second passed, I couldn’t fight it any longer. 

I jumped up abruptly, not knowing what day or time it was, thinking I was late for class. It took me a second as I looked at the clock that read 11:13, to figure out if it was AM or PM. 

My brain started to wake up, glancing beside me to see Taron looking at me concerned. “Are you alright love?”

“Yeah, is it morning or night?” 

“Morning, you’ve been out for 12 hours, are you sure you’re alright?”

I plopped back down, pulling him to me for a kiss, even though I’m sure my breath was terrible, I just wanted to make sure he was still there and I wasn’t dreaming. 

“Of course, I’ve not been sleeping well, and I think my body just decided to take over. I’m sorry I slept so long, is there anything you wanna see, or do today?”

“Whatever you'd like.”

I thought for a moment, unsure of where to take him. There is that bookstore/cafe I go to a lot when I need to get away from my roommate and her endless stream of men. It was late autumn, so a walk through the park to see all the beautiful colored trees and landscapes would be nice too. 

After a shower, and doing the minimum on my hair and makeup, I hurried back to my room. I didn’t want to waste any time doing anything but being with him. 

We had an amazing weekend, I took him to all my favorite places, we tried a new restaurant I’d been afraid of eating at, and crashed back at my room. We definitely made up for lost time, I forgot how incredible he felt and what he could do to me and my body. It was almost enough to make me quit school and go back home with him. 

Sunday afternoon was upon us, and I dreaded sending him off. I just hope this feeling would linger after he’s left, enough to keep me going for another month until winter break.                    

He gave me the sweetest kiss and whispered that he loved me, and then he was gone, like he was never there at all.

I had the urge to chase after the bus, and beg him to stay with me, just for a little while, but my brain was too rational and instead, I sat on a nearby bench and text him all the things I couldn’t say before he left. Have a safe trip, text me when you get there, thank your mom for me, I already miss you, I can’t wait until winter break…

The next month plodded along, it felt like a damn eternity. I worked extra hard on my assignments, I needed the distraction. I packed as much as would fit in my suitcase and took a taxi to the bus station. It took a few hours to get home, which of course, felt like days, I just wanted to relax for a few weeks. My stomach was in knots with every mile closer. 

The last time I spoke to Taron was 2 weeks ago, I hadn’t gotten a moment to call him, and he must have been on the same schedule, because I’ve heard nothing from him, not even a text. 

We had one phone call the week he returned back to London, but he was distracted, at rehearsal, every time I tried to say something, he’d yell back to someone in the background, laugh, apologize, say a few words, and repeat. I’d gotten frustrated and told him to just go back to whatever he was doing, I wanted to hang up on him, but I knew I’d regret it after 5 minutes.

He seemed so distant, and after the weekend we had, I thought that would bring us closer after all that time apart. But...guess not.

I did text him a couple of days ago to remind him I’d be in on Saturday afternoon, and couldn’t wait to see him. But, no reply. I was a little upset, but really, I just wanted to get home and wrap myself around him. I’m sure there was a good explanation. 

I finally arrived, running the moment I caught a glimpse of my mom. Again, my emotions were flooding out of me and couldn’t help but cry and squeeze the living daylights out of her. 

The house looked different, but the same, that weird being away thing that affects your thinking. I text Taron, telling him I’d made it back, and was looking forward to seeing him, again. Mom made the best meal I’ve eaten in months, I caught up with my sister, going over the latest high school drama. 

I kept checking my phone, every other second, waiting, but still nothing. I was starting to worry, and run through a thousand ridiculous scenarios, which caused my awful feeling to build. 

I snuck away for a moment, and tried to call him, but it went straight to voicemail. It was becoming too late to go anywhere to see if he was home or ...who knows where. 

I felt awful, my stomach wouldn’t stop twisting, making me nauseated. I didn’t know what was happening, or why he hasn’t even contacted me in weeks. As tired as I was, I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep, emotions, for a lack of a better word, suck.

I threw on a jacket and flittered out to sit on the front porch with a cup of coffee. I tried to pick out the constellations I could spot, text some of my friends to plan a meet up, and tried Taron again. Same straight to voicemail. I was halfway between detrimental anger and wanting to cry my eyes out. It was just about midnight, and I had no idea what to do. Everyone in the house was asleep, I felt completely alone. 

I raided the bathroom cabinet to find something to knock me out, I definitely was going to need help falling asleep. I found some allergy meds that were supposed to make you sleepy, I crossed my fingers downing 2 pills. It kinda worked, I passed out for a couple of hours, but woke up with a racing heart around 3am. My phone blinded me, lighting up with a text.

Taron - ‘See you soon xx’

I stared at the screen, waiting for more, something else, an apology, an explanation, that he missed me, anything but some generic ass, nondescript text. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

I threw my phone, thankfully it landed on my area rug and not the wood floor. I was so pissed. After 3 weeks, that’s all he has to say? 

My mouth was dry and I had a terrible taste on my tongue, I darted downstairs for a drink, trying my hardest not to grab caffeine. I poured a glass of milk, and grabbed some cookies, I guess I was hungry too. 

Halfway up the stairs, I almost dropped my glass when my phone started chirping, loudly. Taron.

I should ignore it, like he’s been ignoring me. I watched it for a moment, and sighed answering.

“Yes?”

“Baaaaaaabyyyyyyyy, where are you?” He was clearly drunk.

“Taron, I’m home, remember?”

“Come see me, I’m…” The sound was muffled and I heard shuffling, then laughter.

“Oops, I dropped you.”

I rolled my eyes, my anger turning red hot. He was out, getting wasted, and hasn’t even attempted to contact me. 

“Taron, It’s 3am, I’m going to bed.”

More laughter and voices in the background. 

“Taron?” “Hello?’ 

“Sorry, where are you love?”

His speech was slurred, and quick. 

“Home, in bed.”

“Bed, ooh, what are you wearing?”

“Goodnight Taron.”

I waited for him to say something, but I just heard some people in the background laughing more and mumbling things I couldn’t make out.

“Ok, bye then.” I hung up, frustrated and upset. 

A minute later, my phone was lit up with another call. I ignored it. 

And another.

He left a voicemail, I couldn’t make out half of what he was saying. 

He tried to call again. I shut off my phone and took some deep breaths to calm down. 

I woke up to the smell of bacon and pancakes. My nose carried me downstairs, only to find Taron in the kitchen with my mom, shoving a cinnamon roll into his mouth.

“Mornin sunshine!”

I glared at him, pouring myself some orange juice. He came up behind me, crossing his arms around my waist, whispering in my ear, “Missed you.” then kissing my cheek. 

Mom excused herself sensing something off.

“What are you doing here?”

His eyes bulged. “What do you mean? I wanted to see you.”

“You wanted to see me so bad that you didn’t text or call me for 3 weeks? And then wouldn’t reply to anything either? Then you call at me fucking 3am drunk?”

He sighed, rubbing his forehead. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, we had a good first show, so we celebrated.”

“Oh, good to know, maybe if I knew, I could have been there to see, but, it’s cool.”

He reached for my hand, but I withdrew, pulling my robe tighter.

“I’m sorry, I am, it’s been just really crazy lately, you know?”

“I guess.”

“Babe, come on, don’t be mad at me, please?”

He made an exaggerated sad pout, causing me to yet again roll my eyes. 

“Stop, I wanna be mad at you.”

Honestly, looking at him, and those ridiculous puppy dog eyes he was giving me, was breaking me down. 

He kissed my cheek “Come on.” *kiss* “Let’s eat.” *kiss* “I’ve missed you.” *kiss* “You look so cute with your hair a mess.” *kiss* “I’m so happy you’re home”

“Alriiiiight, stop.” He was so damn charming, he could get away with murder. I couldn’t help the grin spreading across my face. 

He kissed my lips, and grabbed my hand to lead me to the table.

We spent the next couple weeks glued to one another, the only time we were apart was a few hours on the weekends when he had a show to do, he slept over almost every night. 

I found some time to hang out with some of my girlfriends, do some shopping, catch up on our lives. I still had 3 more weeks at home, and I couldn’t have been happier, and avoiding every thought that entered my mind about going back.

Taron’s break was much shorter than mine, so time with him after that was few and far between. He did invite me to one rehearsal, that was fun. The rest of the time I just lounged as much as I could, read a few books, and mapped out my new classes. 

It was my last weekend home, thinking about going back to school was making my stomach turn. I didn’t want to leave. 

Taron took me out for a semi-fancy dinner the night before I had to head back. We, of course, again, promised each other things would be ok, and to never let more than a week go by without speaking. We had every good intention to.

We ended up at a pub for a few drinks with all our friends, I wasn’t going to see anyone again for 6 months. I didn’t want to be hungover on the long bus ride back, so I kept it to a minimum. Can’t say the same for Taron though. I had to basically carry him to the taxi and then to his doorstep. I was a little disappointed that this was our last night together, and I couldn’t even talk to him properly. I got him to his bed, covered him up and sat down beside him. His eyes were closed, but not yet passed out. I pushed his hair back from his forehead, running my fingers along his cheekbones, lips, jawline. I wanted to memorize every piece of him.

His eyes sprung open, a silly grin on his face, and pulled me down to him. “I love you.” He gave me a rough kiss on my cheek and was out for the rest of the night. I gave him a gentle kiss on his lips, took one last look and made my way out.

Another sleepless night was ahead of me, I felt different, I didn’t know exactly what ‘it’ was, but I knew it felt like a change. 

The drive to the bus station was quiet, save for the dripping rain down the windows. I hugged mom goodbye, and she promised to come visit me soon. 

Back at the dorm, it felt empty, and cold. I unpacked, and just laid in my bed staring at the ceiling. I hadn’t even looked at my phone since before I left. Of course, there were messages from him.

Taron - “Are you still here?”  12:42pm

“Please tell me I didn’t miss you leaving?” 12:55pm

“I’m so sorry, I swear, I didn’t mean for the night to go like that.” 1:14pm

“Text me, call me when you get there, please.” 1:47pm

“I miss you, it feels so empty when you’re gone.” 3:02pm

“Are you home yet?” 4:55pm

“Please call me.” 5:33pm

The last text was just my name and a sad emoji. 6:01pm

There were a few missed calls from him, and only one voicemail, no words, just a few seconds of a sigh, and a *click*

I was tired, I still had one more day before school started again, and I was going to use it for sleep. 8:35pm

I woke up too early the next morning, and needed the coffee I had been avoiding at home. I threw on whatever was visible on my floor, threw on a beanie and headed out the door. 

My phone was dead, I must have forgotten to charge it. Oh well. 

The coffee was so hot, and exactly what I needed. I took the long way back, opting for a few detours through the city. It was lightly raining, and chilly, but somehow it felt like the best thing ever at that moment.

I gazed at the dead, bare trees, the grey, gloomy sky, and the droplets of water gently plopping to the ground, it was beautiful. Even though everything was dead, decaying, it would be reborn, and more glorious than before. No, this wasn’t some metaphor for my life, or maybe it was. I don’t know. 

When I returned back to the dorms, my roommate was back, unpacking. We exchanged some light words, and she headed out, leaving me to my own devices again. I binged watched some Netflix shows, and avoided charging my phone. It was still in my handbag, and I didn’t feel like getting up. I passed out early, awaking the next morning right on time to start my new semester.

Eventually, my phone was revived, strangely it took me a few days to even bother. A few messages cascaded in, from mom, my sister, one of my friends, and only one from Taron. 

Taron - “I’m sorry.” Monday 1:37am

I called mom, assuring her everything was fine, caught up with my sister, replied to my friend, and left the last message unanswered.

I didn’t know what to say right now, and I needed more time to think before I decided to say anything. 

A few weeks passed, surprisingly that black cloud lightened, and the sun came out. I was doing extremely well in all my classes, and I had met a few new people from my dorm hall, and my psychology class. I started to go out more, enjoy life, find myself. I took an art class even though I have no artistic talent, I hoped maybe it was hidden. 

I felt a heaviness over me at times, I hadn’t replied to Taron at all. I had to eventually, either resolve it, or just ...no, I didn’t want to think about it. I was in a sort of bubble, and I didn’t want to burst it, not yet.

I dialed his number, listening to the multiple rings before his voicemail hit. 

“Hey...we need to talk, umm, yeah, call me when you get this.” I hung up before I changed my mind.

Around 9pm I heard a knock at my door. His hair, and clothes were soaked. His face was covered in worry and somberness. 

I stood there, in awe for a moment. 

“Get in here.” 

I grabbed a towel,  handing it to him. 

“What are you doing here?” This felt familiar.

He just looked at me, mouth open, taking a moment, while attempting to dry himself off.

“What’s going on?” “What’s happening?” “I’m worried.”

I sighed, I honestly had no idea what to even say. 

“Take off your clothes.”

He raised an eyebrow, looking amused.

“They’re soaked, You’re not sitting on my bed all wet.”

I dug through my drawer, finding a t-shirt and oversized pajama pants for him to put on.

“Why haven’t you answered any of my calls, or messages?” “Is everything alright?”

I remained quiet, still not sure of what was going on myself. 

“I don’t know.” was all I could come up with.

“You don’t know what?”

“Anything.”

It was quiet for a minute.

“Things aren’t the same, don’t you feel it?”

He stared, searching my eyes, trying to understand.

“I don’t know, maybe a bit.” “But life never stays the same, things always change.”

“Yeah, they do, and …” I pinched my lips, trying to figure out how to put the next sentence together. “And I think we’ve changed, too much.”

It grew quiet again.

“I’m sorry.” was the only thing that slipped from his lips. His head down, arms rested on his knees, and his hands running through his hair.

“Don’t be, I mean, it happens, as much as we don’t want it to, it happens. It’s no one’s fault” 

“How can you be so, calm?”

“I’ve had a lot of time to think. Until right now, I didn’t know what was happening, it tore me apart, it’s been ripping me to shreds for months, ever since I first came here. I missed you so much, I spent so many nights lying awake, crying, wanting to just say forget it and go back home. I was so incredibly happy when you came to visit that day, I thought if I just waited it out, things could be good again, but things never work out like we plan.”

“I’m sorry, I swear, I didn’t mean for that night to end up like it happened, I promise, I will do anything, let’s just work this out, we can figure out how to make this work.”

I shook my head, I couldn’t. Not anymore. It was killing me, everytime he leaves, or when the phone doesn’t ring for 2 weeks, I let a little piece of him break away.

“Taron, I can’t, I just, can’t.” I was feeling that nauseous feeling creeping back in, and my heart bursting into millions of pieces. 

“Please, I know we can.” He grabbed my hands, pulling me towards him. “Look at me, please.”

I was afraid to, I knew I was either going to buckle and give in, or immediately start crying. 

He tilted my head up to him, his finger under my chin. He went on and on, trying to convince me we could make it work, that we can schedule times to talk, and we’ll visit every other weekend.

I couldn’t take it anymore, my eyes betrayed me, spilling salty tears down my cheeks.

“Taron, stop, you’re hurting me, please just let me go.”

I could barely get the words out, I was out of breath, I felt ill, I couldn’t stop bawling.

I turned away, trying to calm myself. He came around to face me, placing his hands on my face, gazing deep into my eyes. “I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you, I’m sorry.” Tears were forming in his eyes, making them glisten. He gave me one last lingering kiss on my forehead, grabbed his things and walked out the door. 

[kachinnate]

these are a few of my faaavorite fics ✨

not that anyone asked for my opinion BUT these are a couple of my… fav deh fics of all time!* they’re all linked to ao3 and i think i have all the authors tagged that i know of that has a tumblr so

*i made this list especially for fics that aren’t, like.. as well known as some of the Popular Fandom Fics, partially bc everyone’s already read them and knows how awesome they are and partially bc otherwise this list would be ten pages long hehe,,, also sorry if you’re seeing this twice, i had to repost bc the links were all broken ?? 

throwing under a readmore bc this is a chunky boy!!!!! keep in mind that these aren’t in any particular order:

in the in-between - chchchchcherrybomb, vinegar-and-glitter (x) [tree bros] – Connor’s turning 27. Evan’s sitting the bar exam. Over and over again. – itsa timeloop au!! i’m not sure if this is a common au or not, but i’ve never read anything else like this before, and ohhhh my god. each chapter is a switch-off from connor’s pov to evan’s pov, and i assume the authors each wrote for one character (?), but oh my god their writing works so well together?? they both have distinct styles and ways of writing but it flows together perfectly,, without spoiling anything, ev and connor’s dynamic in this universe is a lot different to anything else i’ve personally read before, partially because they’re quite a bit older here than in canon (which, while is obviously portrayed, they still are easily recognizable as the characters they are in the musical), and partially because it strays away from the common ‘they’re both misfits/not doing great, but connor is worse for wear and evan has to save him’, which i think is rlly nice.. (also, like, never have i ever considered that evan would want to be a lawyer, but after reading this fic not only am i sold on it but i’m convinced 100% that him being a lawyer could genuinely be fuckin canon) (also also, the evan characterization in this? hands down my favorite out of any fic i’ve ever read tbh) the world building is really incredible too - like, i don’t even want to consider this one a fuckin fic bro because it’s like highkey just this incredible novel?? it also has a completed sequel called it’s always been you (x) that i haven’t finished that takes place after the events of this fic, and so far?? also fucking incredible 15/10 i definitely recommend

lapse - cecropia / @wildflowermonet (x) [tree bros] – “For what it’s worth,” Connor says casually, “I don’t think you should die tonight.” – welcome to another installment of ‘kayla read this and immediately couldn’t think about anything else for a solid consecutive 12 hours’!! evan and connor have really wonderful characterizations in this one too - i’m pretty sure i’ve elaborated on it before but literally my favorite thing is when people actually write evan as more than an anxious kid, and omg this author did that perfectly asfjkdsg - you can see the subtle Growth as he gets more comfortable with connor and jared (and all the other deh characters too bc this fic has a lovely fOUND FAMILY FINISH AT THE END EEE) and it’s just. aaaah. *heart eyes emoji*. it’s set in their senior year, and they form an unsteady friendship and learn to lean on each other and figure out the whole ‘having friends’ thing, midway through evan realizes he’s a-pinin’, it’s just. Great. this fic is relatively new too i think so u def def def should go give it a read and give the author some love!!!!!!!!!!!

to have a friend - demistories / @transanabeth (x) [tree bros] – Pretend to be friends with Connor Murphy, who yells at people and skips class to smoke and pushes people and threw a printer in the second grade, for twenty dollars a week.

Evan closes his hand around the bill and then stuffs it into his pocket.

“I-I’ll do it.” – ok this is one of, if not, the first fic i’ve ever read coming into the fandom, so it of course has a rlly special place in my heart!! it’s a classic ‘fake dating au’, also with switching povs between chapters. connor offers evan 20$ a week to be his fake friend, almost follows through with the events of the musical but doesn’t, finds out about evan’s own attempt, and they just sorta… cope together. it’s a lot of second guessing bc neither of them knows if the other considers the other a friend or not, and ofc when the fake dating part comes in that gets amplified by 10 asdfghj. honestly i think it’s a cooler approach to the fake dating au troupe (the chapter titles are increments of 20$, which honestly is equally cruel as is creative) and is so!! heartwrenching!!! it’s been a while since i’ve read it but i’m pretty sure that i bawled at the twist so >’D

the only thing is that this fic isn’t finished and there isn’t an intention for it to be finished from what i know of(?) - the author included a brief synopsis of the ending to tie loose ends and give a sort of closure to the fic, but that absolutely doesn’t take away from how freaking incredibly written it is and doesn’t mean you shouldn’t give it a read anyway !! i kept up with it while it was a WIP and honestly every time i got the email notification that it updated i dropped everything to fuckin read that shit 😤😤 when i think of deh fics, this is honestly just one of the first that comes to mind for me just bc it was one of the first ones i’ve read, and it just… was so good that i still think about it months after i read the last chapter safkjasf

no comfort in the truth - @nothingunrealistic (x) [kleinsen] – Like everyone in the world, Evan has the last words his soulmate will ever say to him on his skin.

Evan hears a lot of last words during his senior year. – okay if this were an accurate list i’d literally have every drabble soph has ever written down on here but that is entirely beside the point

literally knowing beforehand that this is a kleinsen fic and then reading the summary, u kno this shit is going to be painful ,, honestly this style is one of my fave fic formats (especially when it comes to writing in the canon deh universe) because like ,, it’s simplistic but works really well as a story-telling method?? not everything has to be perfectly strung together and every day doesn’t have to be written out for it to still convey the same like.. impact as a super long fic would, and honestly writing it in like flashes or snippets makes the build up that much more anticipating? bc again when u write within the events of the musical it’s not like u don’t know what’s going to happen,, u can focus less on worldbuilding bc hey, it’s already done for u, and instead write more indepthly about the topic of the soulmate au!! but uhhh REGARDLESS soph is literally the kleinsen matriarch in my eyes, they always write evan and jared w/ Perfect characterization and dynamics and just Ah! this one is angsty, but it has a v nice and hopeful ending, and i *clutches heart* love,,,

nowhere else i’d rather be:  nosecoffee / @nose-coffee​​ (x) [tree bros] – A fake dating au where they’re next door neighbours, Evan bakes, and Connor’s already a little in love with Evan anyway – this one is a series - the first fic kinda Establishes stuff and the second one gets into the whole fake dating thing!! they live in apartments next to each other, evan bakes for connor, they go campin with connor’s family, it’s just….. rlly sweet and i love it

also, it contains this hilarious bit that i haven’t been able to forget about despite finding this fic months ago:

do me a favour - can your heart rate rise a little? - nosecoffee / @nose-coffee​ (x) [treebros]

an au where the hansen family owns an arcade….. honestly what more can i say?? it’s slowburn and treebros and i p much love everything that nosecoffee has written ever so this is no exception obviously

jared and connor vs. the mortifying ordeal of being known - caswell @techconsigliere , puglebug @puglebug (x) [kleinphy] – Jared is admitted to group therapy following the divorce of his mother from his asshole father. What he doesn’t anticipate is that Connor would be there, too. – THE KLEINPHY CONTENT WE ALL DESERVE BEING PROVIDED TO US BY CJ AND EZRA!!! it’s a one-shot with just enough slowburn to keep you 👀 , jared is working through some stuff and after some fumbling connor is w/ him to help him thru it, the end of this fic has my heart aching the entire way through every time i read it and it’s just… *chefs kiss* (i even drew some fanart for it if you’re ever so inclined)

forever going with the flow, but you’re friction - lizzy_stardust_18 @delightfullyanachronistic​ (x) [band trees] – Zoe knew that of all of the things that her mother had expected from the evening, Evan Hansen showing up at her door with his arms full of her drunken daughter was not one of them. – big bet i wasn’t getting through this list without including fiona’s fics, are u crazy??? BUT this one is set a year (?) after the events of canon, zoe’s at a party and evan finds her, and they talk about stuff n’ things - there’s also a sweet moment in there between zoe and cynthia (in which cynthia is Rightfully Skeptical of evan) which is v wholesome and Refreshing because honestly the murphy parents never get written in a good light and fiona does it ~ perfectly ~. lotsa metaphors. evan and zoe are big dorks. evan is a taylor swift stan. what isn’t there to love

i can’t call you a stranger, but i can’t call you up - lizzy_stardust_18 - @delightfullyanachronistic (x) [kleinsen] – Jared fiddled his thumbs. He wished more than anything that he could move to a different seat, but causing a scene at Heidi Hansen’s wedding reception wasn’t exactly high on his to-do list. Besides, he was an adult. He had a job. He ate ramen only three times a week. He could handle a simple social interaction like a real human being. He was lucky that no one else had found their seats at his table yet. It gave him time to gather his wits about him. He drummed his fingers on the table nervously. – jared and evan are forced to talk after the events of canon via sitting next to each other at heidi’s wedding. they argue a bunch bc jared is still rightfully hurt, they discuss TCP and jared’s treatment of evan over the past couple years, they fight it out and then we learn some jared backstory and then there are tears and it ends on a fluffy + hopeful note!! good shit !!!!

[sohotthateveryonedied]

What are your top three favorite voltron fics ever? (I need more stuff to read and I hear around the street that you're the right fic dealer to go to)

Hoo, boy. I just wanna real quick say sorry, because I’m not going to stop ranting for a long while, so WITHOUT FURTHER ADO:

1. Nothing’s Quite As Sweet by dimpleforyourthoughts 

This. Fucking. Fic. I just. How can I even begin to explain in words how incredible this story is. This is one of my favorite fanfictions of all time, and every time I reread it I am yet again swept away in the story. It’s a coffeeshop au where Keith’s a broke barista who hates his job and Lance works at the cat shelter across the street, and look, I know it sounds so generic at first, but goddamn this fic makes me cry EVERY SINGLE TIME. It’s just?? So fucking beautiful???? Legitimately, unbelievably beautiful. There’s humor, there’s heartwrenching angst, there’s Keith adopting a kitten, there’s a really fucking sweet ending that made me sob when I first read it,,, Just. This fic. Read it. Read it and join me on the feelings train. I read this whole thing in like four hours despite it being well over 50,000 words, and I regret absolutely nothing. 

2. Shut Up And Dance With Me by  @wittyy-name

So in this one, Keith, Lance, and the others are all dancers at Altea Dance Studio. Keith and Lance are forced to partner up with each other for regionals despite hating each other, and over the course of the story shit gets real. And by real, I’m talking rivals to lovers content, turtle-paced slow-burns, a super huge plot twist that I won’t spoil, dorks falling in love, and me no longer being able to listen to Shut Up And Dance With Me the same way ever again. Plus there’s wonderful (WONDERFUL) art for each chapter by @wolfpainters! I legit have an entire playlist of songs just from this fic that I listen to all the time, and now I can’t associate them with anything but this story. It’s fantastic and I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve read it. 

3. When the Dead Walk the Earth by SilenceIsGolden15

This fic STOLE my heart, FED my withered soul, and ATE my children, all in one weekend. Now you might be thinking to yourself, “But Destiny, since when do you read zombie apocalypse AUs?” I don’t know either!!! But this fic is good and angsty and intense and fun and cute and so many other things all at once. Plus it actually ends happily? And none of my favorite characters die? And everyone loves and supports each other so darn much? Honestly, I just adore silenceisgolden15 as an author and would read their grocery list if I could because hell yeah good writing, which was how I stumbled upon this story in the first place. But yeah, read it. Do it. Experience it. There’s a shit ton of brotherly feels, no romance whatsoever, amazing action scenes, and so much angst that is balanced perfectly with humor that you get whiplash with every new chapter. It’s Good Quality Kush, folks. 

(Honorable mention:) I would have added a fourth fic, except this next one isn’t so much a fic as it is a whole mcfucking universe. @caffeinatedflumadiddle writes breathtaking voltron fics, and they have this awesome series called Storytime: Voltron is (Basically) a Disaster and I’m?? In love?? It’s gotten to the point where I have wholeheartedly accepted everything in this series as canon because hot dang this is how the show should have gone babey! Everyone is really gay and living their best lives, and even the OCs I see as genuine Voltron characters now, it’s Just That Good. (George is an angel and you can take that to the bank, buddy!!!)(Also I would personally die for Talis and that is a fact.) I’d give flumadiddle my whole entire soul without hesitation if they asked me to, because they’ve more than earned it with this series. The series goes all the way from the Garrison days before the start of the show to way in the future after everyone’s grown up and had kids, as well as everything in between. Not to mention the oneshots fic that’s steadily growing, which makes me laugh like a jokerized sea lion every time I read a new addition. Fucking READ THESE FICS, PEOPLE. IF YOU WERE DISSATISFIED WITH THE WAY VOLTRON ENDED, READ THESE FUCKING FICS. 

This has been a PSA. 

[solastia]

If you're still taking requests can you do a drabble with Yoongi using the prompt "Whatever you say old man" THANK YOU love your writing

You know, at first I was just going to say fuck you for probably stereotyping him based on old jokes, but then an angsty and cute scene came to mind, so unfuck you, I guess lol. I hope you enjoy. 

Random Yoongi Drabble #1 

[1,194 words because I can’t drabble, apparently]

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.” You mutter, glancing up at Yoongi’s astonished expression through your lashes. 

Yoongi was lounging with you on your couch, finally having some free time to spend with you after being too busy with promotions. It had been about three weeks since the last time you’d seen him. He was reasonably good about texting, but it was still hard. However, that wasn’t even the problem. You would happily wait for him for as long as it took if you felt like this was going anywhere. You knew that he wasn’t the most open when it came to emotions, but you didn’t get any indication that you were more than a comfortable and convenient hookup of almost a year. Meanwhile, you were madly in love.  

“What do you mean?” Yoongi sputters, and you can hear his voice hardening and notice his shoulders tense like he’s preparing to fight. 

“I just can’t do this. I get the feeling that I like you more than you’ll ever like me. But that’s totally understandable. I mean, you’re you. Min Yoongi, idol, producer, self-proclaimed genius, etc. And I’m just me. You could be out there with models hanging off of each arm and drinking champagne out of goblets that are made out of diamonds and ice or some shit.” 

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, looking thoroughly amused now. You can’t blame him; you’re making it sound like you’re just complaining, aren’t you? 

“Look, my point is, I can’t do this anymore. I’m sure you’ll find a replacement for me in like a day, so I’m sure I’m not going to be inconveniencing you much. You’ll probably forget all about me in like a week. And I’ll have a story to tell the village kids when I’m a little old lady, rocking on my porch and telling them about the time I fell in love with Min Yoongi. They’ll just laugh at me and be all like, “Whatever you say, old lady,” and they won’t believe me but they’ll still listen to me tell the story like once a week until I die.” You were rambling and being weird at this point, but you couldn’t help but be nervous as Yoongi’s face just shut down, gazing at you with that eerie blank look he does when he’s hiding how he feels. 

You stared back, practically begging him with your eyes to say something, hopefully what you most wanted to hear. Instead, after about a minute he merely nodded, slipped his shoes on, and left. 

You gape at the door as despair slowly takes over and you realize everything you’d said. Of course he’d run. You used the L word. God, you were so stupid. You’d been so determined to make it sound casual and envisioned the most chill breaking up even though we aren’t really together scenario ever. 

You couldn’t even bring yourself to cry, you were so upset. You stared down at your shaking hands and wondered how long it would take to get over Yoongi. 

You were really going to miss him. 

You give one final heartwrenching sigh and melt into the couch as you watch TV mindlessly. You weren’t even really paying attention, and eventually, you began to doze off. 

Four firm knocks on the front door jolted you to full awareness. That was Yoongi’s knock. You glance at the clock and realize it had only been about three hours since he’d left. Perhaps he forgot something here, because surely he couldn’t be here for you after all that. You stood up and ran your fingers through your hair and stopped by the mirror to check for drool before standing in front of the door. You took one deep breath to brace yourself and flung open the door. 

Yoongi stood there looking incredibly agitated. His lip was all chewed up, and his hair was mussed like he’d been running his hands through it. He was currently rubbing the back of his neck, a clear sign that he was nervous. 

“What if I wanted in?” He blurted, looking incredibly embarrassed afterward. Yoongi blushing was something you didn’t see often, but it was one of your favorite sights. 

You cock an eyebrow in confusion and try to figure out what he means. “Wanted in on what?” 

“Your….dumb thing with the village kids. Say I said I loved you too and I wanted to be in that stupid thing about you being an old lady, where would I be?” He mumbled, looking shy and not meeting your eyes. 

Did you just hear a record scratch? Did he just say love? 

“You love me?” 

He finally met your eyes and nodded, allowing them to soften so you could finally see it in his face. 

“And you want to be in my scenario about me being an old lady? Like…seventy years from now? Seventy, Yoongi.” You’re so shocked at this sudden change that disbelief is a natural response, but you knew Yoongi well enough to know that he means what he says. He nods again in answer, grinning shyly and you want to coo at how cute and vulnerable he looked. 

“Then I guess you can be the little old man rocking next to me that’s always bragging about when he was a youngin he was one of the hottest idols in the world and made masterpieces, and had everyone throwing themselves at him. When the kids tell you “Whatever you say, old man” I’ll totally back you up and tell them I was a groupie. And I won’t tell on you when you “accidentally” trip the little jerks with your cane.” 

Yoongi laughs and just the sight of his adorable gummy smile makes you happy again and realize this is real. This is really happening. 

Yoongi grabs your hand and leads you back to the couch before grasping your face as he leans in to kiss you tenderly. You’d been kissed by Yoongi many times, but never like this. Never in such a way that you felt exactly what he was trying to tell you. You pull back with a contented sigh and the two of you smile softly at each other while you get back into a comfortable position to cuddle. 

You both stare at the TV silently as he runs his fingers up and down your arm, the both of you most likely processing everything. 

Eventually, he turns to you with a smirk. 

“Okay, but like, you know that the village kids are already going to know about me, right? I’m Min Yoongi. They probably made me mayor, and like, gave me a key to the city or some shit. Probably have a Min Yoongi parade once a year and have a Kickstarter to build me a statue.” 

You chuckle and lean in to kiss him fondly.

“Whatever you say, old man.” 

[afjakwritesarchive]

I wish you would write a fic where... there is lots of emotional or physical pain and suffering, but with a cute usuk end to make hearts melt.

Anon, how did you know I was waiting for an excuse to write a fic like this? Hope you like this! :) Also, sorry this is so late!! 

Title: KidnappedPairing: USUKRating: T (descriptions of violence ahead!)AU: Human, Undercover cop!ArthurGenre: Angst, romanceSummary: Arthur is desperate to save Alfred after he is kidnapped. A/N: Sorry for all the inaccuracies. For the purpose of fun angsty USUK, please overlook them!

Arthur had been sipping tea and looking over case files when he'd gotten a text from an unknown number. The message, containing only the words 'You'll want to see this', was a link to a livestream on a website unfamiliar to the Brit. At first, he'd been confused. The stream, which seemed to be filmed from a camera situated in a corner toward the ceiling, displayed an empty room. However, after staring at the sparse room for twenty seconds, there was a sudden commotion. Arthur watched his phone screen in horror as someone, tied to a chair and with a black bag over their head, was suddenly dragged into the room by a masked figure clothed entirely in black. He'd immediately leapt from his seat and rushed to the tech room, using his phone's mirroring feature to project his screen onto the TV.

The figure who brought the captive in left the room. While his department's resident tech expert Ivan Braginsky tried to track the number, Arthur watched as the unidentified captive strained against thick, unyeilding ropes. The ropes had been wrapped around the person's arms, tied at the wrists, and secured to the back of the chair. Ropes had also wound underneath the seat of the chair and over the person's thighs, effectively gluing them to their seat. Both of their ankles had been secured to the two front legs of the chair, leaving them completely immobile and defenseless.

The door onscreen opened once more. Arthur let out a sharp cry of outrage, drawing the attention of several more people in the room. At the sight of the man who had entered, cries of shock rang throughout the room.

"Get the chief, now!" Arthur hollered to one of his coworkers. "Someone record this!"

Within a minute, every officer currently at the station had swarmed in the tech department, crowding around the television.

"Hello, officer Kirkland!" Came a low, sing-song voice from the screen. The man who had walked in was now sauntering toward the camera, looking up at it with a vicious grin on his face. "Oh, I wish this were a skype call so I could see your pretty face looking shocked—I'm sure it's just perfect."

Arthur grit his teeth, green eyes narrowed and hatred burning within them as he stared at the man. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath.

"How did he find you out?!" Cried one of Arthur's coworkers, Elizaveta. Like Arthur, she had been assigned to go undercover in order to infiltrate one of the city's largest drug dealers, and stared in awe at the image of the man himself on the screen.

Arthur gave no reply, hyper focused on the screen.

"Do you like the theatrics? I figured you would, considering how much you like acting." The man joked, a reference to the Brit's time undercover. He grinned as he turned around, leisurely striding toward the captive. He reached forward, pulling the bag away from their head with a flourish.

Arthur immediately let out a cry of shock, clamping a hand over his mouth to keep from screaming out as he watched the most dangerous man in the city pluck a pair of noise-cancelling headphones off of the love of his life.

"What the fuck is going on?!" Were the first words out of Alfred's mouth once the headphones were off.

"Oh, my. A gorgeous face ruined by extremely poor manners. You know, typically you introduce yourself before you begin to scream profanities at someone." Said the man, grinning happily at Alfred.

"Yeah, well, typically you don't tie someone up until the third date!" Spat Alfred sarcastically. "Who the fuck are you?"

The man in front of him fixed Alfred with a faux pout. "You don't recognize me? Gilbert Beilshmidt, the devilishly handsome and dangerously charming millionaire?"

Alfred's jaw fell open in shock, staring at the man before him in awe.

"Oh, so you do know me!" Gilbert said with a laugh. "Well, now that I've been introduced, it's your turn. Correct me if I'm wrong: You're Alfred Jones, twenty-six years old, six-foot-four, one-hundred eighty-five pounds, half-brother to Matthew Williams, and you live on Liberty Street in an apartment with your cat, Hero."

Alfred glared harshly at the man, squirming some in his seat. "What do you want with me? You're not an idiot. You know I don't have any info that you need."

Gilbert leaned forward until he was face-to-face with the American, leering at him. "You're right. You don't have any information at all. But you are leverage. Someone—and I won't say who, because that would ruin my awesome fun—is both close to you and my case. I thought it could be fun to make them squirm a little by taking you."

Alfred's face twisted into an enraged frown, brows pulled together and bright eyes narrowed. "Dude, that's fucked up."

"That's the point," Gilbert replied. "Now, let's try something: I'm going to ask you some questions, Alfred. If you refuse to answer or lie to me, I'll hit you. Make sense?"

"Sure," Alfred grumbled, glaring at the man as he stepped back.

Gilbert clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels as he spoke. "Alfred, are you married?"

"Shouldn't you already know that?" Alfred snapped.

Immediately, Gilbert raised his palm, striking the American harshly across the face. Arthur's hands came to his mouth, muffling a sudden cry of shock and outrage as he watched the American's head jerk to the side from the force of the hit. After a moment, Alfred raised his head and fixed Gilbert with a harsh glare, his cheek still red where the man had hit him.

"What the hell was that for?!" Alfred cried.

"You know, for someone in your position, I think it would be rather obvious that you shouldn't speak to me that way." Gilbert said coolly before smacking the American once more.

"Fuck you," Alfred spat out. "Hit me as many times as you want. I'm not gonna answer your dumbass fucking questions."

"No?" Gilbert questioned, leaning forward again.

"No." Alfred said with a resolute nod.

"Hm," Gilbert hummed in consideration, suddenly inching closer. He moved to straddle Alfred, settling himself over the American's bound thighs with a devious smile. "You know, Alfred, I know a lot about you. There was a reason I picked you rather than any of the others I could have."

Alfred turned his head away from Gilbert, chest heaving as if the anger within him was trying to break free.

"Don't ignore me," Gilbert purred, his tone low. He took Alfred's chin very gently in a pale hand, guiding the blond's eyes to meet his.

Arthur growled, fists formed at his sides as he watched the exchange. The rage within him was unparalleled; the longer he watched Gilbert touch Alfred, the more the fire within him burned, and the more compelled he felt to bash the TV screen in, if only to rid himself of the horrifying image upon the screen.

"Listen to me very carefully, Alfred: I know everything. I do my research. I know you have secrets that not even your closest friends know. That not even Arthur know."

Alfred stiffened, glaring harshly at the man. "Leave Arthur out of this. Whatever sick game you're playing, he's not involved."

Arthur felt a pang in his heart at the American's words, so steely and sure. Several of his coworkers turned to glance at him, pitying expressions on their faces at the sight of the hurt on his own. Oh, if only Alfred knew... If only he knew that not only was he involved in the game, but that he was a crucial player, Gilbert's main opponent. How would he react knowing that it was all Arthur's fault he'd gotten kidnapped, that the facade his best friend had kept up for years was all a lie? What would he say when he found out that Arthur wasn't a librarian, but an undercover agent in charge of a case for one of the most dangerous criminals in the city?

"Perhaps so, but I find it a little unfair that there's so much of your life you haven't told him. Does he know about your parents, Alfred? The night you ran away from him? All the foster homes you moved in and out of?"

Arthur's jaw tightened. He did know—after a night of particularly heavy drinking, Alfred had let some of the details of his childhood slip. The next morning, Arthur had brought it up, and Alfred had explained heartwrenching story. Around tears, he'd detailed the abuse of his monstrous parents, his escape, how he'd lived hopping couch to couch for almost six months until, at the tender age of fourteen, he'd been taken in by the state and circulated through various foster homes until adulthood. Knowing this, and seeing Gilbert use the blond's unpleasant past as bait, enraged him beyond belief.

"He already knows all that," Alfred said, gritting his teeth.

"Oh?" Gilbert said, quirking a brow. "What about Janie, Alfred? Does Arthur know anything about that?"

Alfred fumed, nostrils flaring. "Shut up." He hissed.

"It's a shame, what happened. You escaped one abusive household, and before five years had passed, you'd moved into a house where another was soon to start. You trusted her, didn't you, Alfred? You didn't think she could ever hurt you."

"Shut up!" Alfred yelled, struggling against his bonds.

"What was your breaking point with her, Alfred? How many times did she apologize to you before you realized she didn't mean it?"

Arthur's eyes were as wide as saucers, watching the screen rapturously. Whatever Gilbert was alluding to was obviously upsetting Alfred, and it made him fume. More than that, though, he was unbelievably concerned. Alfred had never mentioned anything about someone named Janie, nor any type of abusive relationship, but if Gilbert knew about it, it meant that there had been some record of it. Dread settled in the pit of Arthur stomach. If there were any records of it, it usually meant that it had been severe enough for Alfred to either press charges or seek some type of therapy.

Gilbert leaned in closer, pressing his lips against the American's cheek. When he pulled back, he smiled a sinister smile and reached out, caressing the American's cheek. "How many times did she do this to you before you fought back?"

Arthur watched in horror as the man's other hand snaked downward, settling at Alfred's thigh for a moment. He massaged the area briefly, eyes on the American's now horrified face. Once the blond's breaths had quickened considerably and he began to see true panic set in, he pushed his hand between the American's bound thighs.

"Don't," Alfred breathed, his voice shaky.

"Get the fuck off of him!" Arthur roared at the TV. Elizaveta reached out, resting a hand at his shoulder and fixing him with a sympathetic frown.

"Why not? What's wrong, Alfred?" Gilbert asked teasingly.

"Get away from me," Alfred growled, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

"But you look so cute when you're afraid! I stole the records from your therapy sessions, you know. She wrote that you were afraid afterward. That you didn't want anyone to touch you. Is that still true? Does it scare you to have me touch you this way?"

"Stop," Alfred said, his voice weaker now.

"Beg me." Gilbert commanded, leaning in.

Alfred's plush lips parted and he took in a breath to speak, only to have the breath stolen from him when the man atop of him suddenly pressed their lips together. Alfred let out a muffled cry of surprise and squirmed in his bonds, shaking his head in order to get the man off of him.

"My, you really are afraid!" Gilbert exclaimed with a laugh. "All you have to do is ask me to stop and I will, Alfred."

"I have a location!" Ivan, an agent on the tech team suddenly cried, breaking all of the agents in the room away from the screen.

"They made it too easy to find them. They have something planned. We need to get there as soon as possible." Elizaveta said urgently.

"We need to go now." Arthur growled.

Green eyes flitted back to the screen, his thick brows pulled downward. Alfred was visibly trembling, the word 'please' falling from his lips repeatedly. Gilbert's face was obscured, his head bent. Arthur fumed; he was kissing Alfred's neck. The mere sight of it made Arthur's heart burn.

"I'll kill him." Arthur seethed.

Elizaveta handed him a bulletproof vest, which Arthur shrugged into without ever taking his eyes off the screen. His team was ready to go within two minutes, and they sped to the source of the crime in a hurry. As the Brit expected, it lead them somewhere that was completely inconspicuous on the outside; an empty building on the outskirts of town, once a hair salon that had gone out of business two months earlier. The windows were boarded up, and the door locked. Elizaveta had to kick it in to enter, and several agents spilled in with their guns raised. After a quick search of the premises, a staircase was found, and the Brit lead the team down the concrete steps.

Immediately, his mouth fell open in shock. At the bottom of the steps, a hallway stretched on in either direction, up until a corner at the end of each. Numerous doors were situated on each side of the hallway, and Arthur scowled.

"Start searching." He commanded, nodding to his team. Several agents started forward, only for a sudden voice to appear, playing from speakers embedded into the walls.

"Go down the hallway you're facing right now, Arthur. Take two lefts. Fourth door on your right." The voice of Gilbert purred.

Unthinking, Arthur immediately followed his instructions and dashed down the hall, Elizaveta close behind and urgently calling his name.

"What if it's a trap?!" She called, catching up to the Brit as he sprinted down the hall and took the first turn.

"I don't fucking care!" Arthur exclaimed. "I have to find him!"

"Arthur, wait!" Elizaveta called, following him around the second corner.

Arthur rushed to the instructed door, wasting no time before raising his foot. He kicked it twice before it succumbed to the force, swinging inward. Immediately, his eyes went wide in horror and all the blood drained from his face.

Gilbert stood in the center of the room, Alfred directly in front of him. One of Gilbert's arms was wrapped around his waist, his fingers roaming underneath the American's now half unbuttoned shirt. His other hand held a gun, the barrel of which was currently buried in Alfred's golden hair. Ropes still encircled the length of Alfred's arms, securing them behind his back. To Arthur's anger, the state of the American's clothing gave the impression of a hurried dressing after a hookup; his pants unbuttoned and unzipped at the front, his shirt half-unbuttoned. His hair was a mess, blood flowed in two neat lines from his mouth and nose, and tracks of tears were clearly visible upon his lightly freckled cheeks.

"Take one step closer and I'll shoot him," Gilbert said, his casual tone infuriating Arthur.

"Arthur!" Alfred cried, eyes widening to the size of saucers at the sight of the man. His eyes flitted over the Brit's ensemble and then back into his face, his eyes shining with surprise. "You're a cop?"

"More than just a cop," Gilbert purred, pressing his lips to the American's cheek. "He's an agent. Been undercover for two years."

"What do you want, Gilbert?" Arthur demanded.

"I don't want anything. You and your team has been a pain in the ass—I figured that I should return the favor, and what better way to do it than with him? It wasn't that hard to figure out, Kirkland. Everywhere I turned for information on you, someone mentioned Alfred and the rumors that you loved him."

Arthur's eyes flitted briefly to Alfred's face. The American's shoulders had slumped, an expression of shock set upon his handsome face. Arthur felt his cheeks reddening despite himself, and he fixed his eyes back unto Gilbert's face as the man spoke.

"I was going to kill him at first, but it seems like a lot of fun to watch you squirm over him. Maybe I should keep him around a little bit and see what I can get you to do." Gilbert suggested with a sickening smile. "Drop your gun, Arthur." He commanded.

Arthur's breath hitched in his throat. "You know I can't do that," he said, his words slow and deliberate.

Gilbert tilted his head to the side in mock confusion. "That's funny, I thought you cared about him." He said before suddenly taking Alfred's shoulders.

He whipped the American around to face him and, much to Arthur's disdain, pressed a quick kiss to his lips. Then, with a dull thud, Gilbert had smacked gun against the side of Alfred's head full force, the American falling the floor with the force of the hit. Arthur yelled in outrage, leaping forward to come to Alfred's aid. However, when Gilbert aimed the gun at his friend once more, he froze in place and looked to Gilbert angrily.

"I told you to put the gun down," Gilbert said, gazing fixedly into Arthur's face.

"No!" Alfred cried suddenly, leaping forward.

Gilbert cried out in shock as his captive suddenly plowed into him, sending them both the floor. He crashed into the concrete on his back, Alfred atop of him with his arms still bound behind his back.

"You fucking dick!" Gilbert shouted angrily, realizing that the American had knocked the gun out of his hand, where it had slid across the floor and against a wall.

As Gilbert struggled to push Alfred off of him, he watched Arthur race to the gun and quickly apprehend it. The Brit then sauntered forward, grinning triumphantly. Elizaveta dashed into the room, blood dripping from her lip, and let out a cry of happiness. She pulled her own gun from her holster and aimed at Gilbert.

"Go take care of him, Arthur. I got this," she said, nodding in the direction of Alfred.

Arthur nodded and leaned forward, quickly lifting the American off of Gilbert and to his feet, immediately tugging the blond into his arms.

"God, I'm so glad you're alright," Arthur sighed, pulling back and ushering the American out the door.

Alfred stumbled on his feet as they walked out, brows furrowing. "H-Hey," he murmured, "I... My head feels weird," he told the Brit.

"What?" Arthur asked. "Your head feels—Oh! Shit, you need a doctor!" He exclaimed, suddenly remembering the hit from the gun Alfred had endured.

Alfred nodded, looking up. His eyes were unfocused and he swayed on his feet. Arthur put a steadying arm behind him, helping him to walk. "Hey, Artie?"

"Yes?" Arthur asked as he helped Alfred through the exit, supporting the majority of the American's body by this point.

"You're not gonna bust me for the pot I smoked, are ya?" Alfred asked, speech slightly slurred.

A laugh bubbled in Arthur's throat and he opened his mouth to reply when Alfred's eyelids fluttered and he dropped backward, unconscious.

Alfred woke to the beep of a heart monitor and a hand squeezing his.

"Woah," he groaned aloud, squeezing his eyes shut once before allowing them to open.

"Alfred!" Exclaimed a familiar voice, making the American jolt. The hand in his squeezed tighter, and he heard the rustling of paper to his left side.

The American turned his head, watching as his best friend tossed a magazine off of his lap and stood up, hovering over him with a bright smile.

"Hey, Artie," Alfred greeted, surprised by the roughness of his voice.

"How do you feel, love?" Arthur questioned urgently, leaning over him with his thick brows furrowed in concern.

"My head fucking hurts," the American replied with a chuckle. "That bastard really fucking pistol whipped me, huh? I thought people only did that in movies."

Arthur frowned, very gently carding his fingers through the blond's golden hair. "I'm afraid he did," he murmured. "I'm so sorry, Alfred. This was all my fault. You had a concussion. Well, you still do, but before it was... God, I'm so fucking sorry. I can't even begin to tell you how terrible I feel."

Alfred blinked up at him, surprised. "Hey, it's not like you kidnapped me or something. You were there to help me."

"I know, I know. But I should have just put the gun down. I... I thought he'd hurt you more if he knew I was defenseless, but it was unfair call to make. I should have never put you in jeopardy, not even for a second. I was gambling with your life."

"I'm okay, aren't I?" Alfred said, a reassuring smile on his face. "Besides, it wasn't all bad."

Arthur's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What about that situation could possibly be good?"

"He was a pretty good kisser." Alfred joked. At the glare he received from Arthur, he laughed. "Okay, okay, not funny. I meant that it wasn't all bad because I got to watch you get all flustered and blushy in the middle of a crime scene, and all 'cause Gilbert said you loved me."

Arthur cursed himself when his green eyes went wide, his face involuntarily blooming red at the comment.

"I was pretty flattered, yanno. If everyone he talked to knew, that means that you're either so stupidly in love with me that it's obvious to everyone who sees you, or that you gush about me to everyone you meet. Either way, I thought it was pretty great." Alfred teased with a winning smile.

"Do you want another concussion?" Arthur threatened as he released Alfred's hand, turning away.

Alfred let out a cry of protest and hurriedly sat up, immediately wincing in pain. Arthur whipped around and immediately began to scold the American, helping him to lay down again.

Alfred looked to his friend once the pain had dulled down to the familiar ache at the side of his skull. "I wasn't making fun of you, you know. I was really happy to hear it."

The Brit folded his arms across his chest, huffing. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm glad you love me, 'cause I love you too and I'm kinda sick of pretending I don't." Alfred said with a grin.

Arthur kissed him.

[maychorian]

Weekly Voltron Fic Recs #33

The big 33! This is when Jesus and Alexander the Great died! I memorized a poem about that once. No worries, this list will go on, just like my heart.

Rules: You can find past weekly rec lists here, and non-list recs in my general fic rec tag. Also follow @maychorianrecs​ for individually tagged posts, the easier to search and reblog. This is stuff I like, and I have a huge bias toward Lance, hurt/comfort, and general fluff, in that order. Gen unless otherwise noted. Please comment on the fics if you read and enjoy them!

Devil May Care (Others Definitely Do) by EdgarAllenPoet for Silverheartlugia2000 Words: 2,601 Author’s Summary: “So it was a day just like any other. They were flying through the void of space, traveling from one distant planet to another, with dobashes of free time in between. Keith was in the training room after their morning team session, getting his ass handed to him by a very determined Antok.” My Comments: Rough at parts, but really great picture of Keith, Antok, and Red. I loved the imagery of how all the paladins bond, too, and the tag-team parenting between Red and Kolivan was hilarious and heartachey. Keith is not used to having so many people care about him all at once, but he’s getting there.

Makings of a Pilot by mckinlily Words: 2,561 Author’s Summary: “He’s the one we’re looking at,” says Iverson. “Shirogane. He’s the one for Kerberos.” Sam Holt isn’t quite so certain. After all, it takes more than good test scores and a charming smile to be a pilot. But Shiro’s got a habit of upsetting expectations. My Comments: Fantastic Sam POV, and fantastic backstory for Shiro and Keith. You can really see how that one little incident informs and changes who they are afterward. It’s a bit painful, but beautiful stuff.

Play by RottenMint Words: 1,197 Author’s Summary: Training with Antok reveals something Keith didn’t know he needed, as well as someone who can provide it for him. My Comments: This is adorable! Dads of Marmora are super good. All the play-fighting and giggle fits for Keith, please.

The Camel’s Back by LdotRage (ObliviousInsomniac) Words: 3,310 Author’s Summary: From the moment he woke up that morning, Hunk knew it was gonna be a bad day. He was right. It is a bad day. Until his teammates catch on, at least. My Comments: Aw, Hunk. Sometimes it all gets to be too much. I love how everyone immediately realized that they had messed up and chased after him. Hunk deserves all the huggles.

Diplomacy by BombDiggityDog Words: 2,332 Author’s Summary: Lance knew diplomacy was hard, but he never knew it involved poison, traps, and kidnapping. My Comments: Nice little Altean!Lance snippet featuring Lance in danger and Keith and Allura as Big Damn Heroes, because of course they are.

Space Cocoa by midnightwaterlily33 for AceQueenM Words: 2,280 Author’s Summary: Keith hates sentimentality. He hates when they try to include him by forcing him to open up when sometimes he just… can’t. Not unless it’s done in the right way. Sometimes the help he needs comes in unexpected ways. AKA: Keith is upset, Hunk tries his very best, and then some emotional resolve is found in a cup of weird space hot chocolate. My Comments: Aw, Hunk is the sweetest and the best, and he was the perfect one to offer Keith some company and understanding. What good boys. Tagged possible romance, but reads gen to me.

Talent Shows and Technobabble by Theresalwaysamystery Words: 2,705 Author’s Summary: The Paladins are asked to participate in an exchange of talents to solidify their newest alliance- Pidge isn’t sure about her people skills and Hunk is right there to help her figure things out. My Comments: Pidge’s talent is so nerdy and perfect, and I love how everyone was helpful and supportive. Fun, sweet fic.

Positivity Day by MizuKitten Words: 1,593 Author’s Summary: Lance wakes up sick, and tries to go through his day despite the fact. It does not end well for him, luckily his friends are there to help. My Comments: Just a cute, fluffy little modern AU sickfic. Hunk is perfection, as usual.

This May Sting by Stratagem Words: 5838 (4/?) Author’s Summary: Lance gets appendicitis. In space! Cue a very worried team. Also, Alteans don’t understand why humans have apparently pointless body parts such as appendixes. My Comments: I’ve loved everything I’ve read from this author, and now we’re getting a long sickfic featuring Lance! I am so EXCITED.

Dislocation by Arisprite Words: 5300 (2/?) Author’s Summary: noun A disturbance from a proper, original, or usual place or state. Keith feels useless in the initial search for Shiro, and refuses to rest (since resting would mean thinking about the fact that Shiro was gone, had left him, again). Lance, fed up with the whole team not taking care of themselves, challenges him and Keith takes him up on it. Neither of them know that little competition will put both their lives in danger, but after surviving the night, they may understand each other a little better. My Comments: Great start to what promises to be a very fraught and angsty fic. Pretty angsty already, with everyone absolutely at the end of the ropes because of losing Shiro. And it looks like it’s going to get a lot worse. :D

This Is Where We Start by Agapostemon Words: 1,426 Author’s Summary: Sometimes you just need a few space mice to remind you how much you have in common. My Comments: Really sweet fic with Allura coming across a grumpy, strung-out Pidge and delicately making moves to bond with her. Also includes great use of the space mice! Lovely.

To Sorrow with Thee by Swiss Army Knife Words: 7,054 Author’s Summary: In which Lance becomes the Black Lion (and Keith’s) grief counselor. My Comments: This fic is beautiful, sweet but sad. A lot of gorgeous imagery, and I love how Lance and Keith found an understanding together.

Beneath the Champagne Sea by Swiss Army Knife Words: 14,980 (6/?) Author’s Summary: The paladins make a diplomatic visit to a planet with sexual dimorphism roughly opposite that of Earth. Women are larger and more powerful, while men are learner and smaller. Lance attracts more than his fair share of attention. My Comments: The worldbuilding in this story is off the CHAIN. So many beautiful sights and descriptions, though the sexism undergirding the world makes it a bit disconcerting. Lance just wants to have fun hanging out with someone who enjoys his presence, and I’m low-key (high-key) worried about what’s going to happen.

Spades to Start by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions) Words: 1,941 Author’s Summary: When you teach an Altean how to play poker, they’ll want to play a game-And that will just end poorly. My Comments: Absolutely delightful tomfoolery with Team Voltron and a game of chance, with a quite unexpected outcome. This story makes me grin every time, and I’ve read it multiple times.

Ten Days by WashiPuppy for onoheiwa Words: 4,081 (1/?) Author’s Summary: Most people never got to learn exactly what their mind is worth, how resistant it is. Lance knew now, and the answer was ten days. It only took ten days for something in him to break that he wasn’t sure he could get back.Shiro had survived a year and come out as someone still able to smile, to be kind and gentle with those around him. Scarred, but not shattered. Lance wore no new scars. But he still hadn’t made it ten days. My Comments: Tagged eventual Shance, but I’m in it for the bad trip Lance is about to have. Holy crow, this first chapter is already INTENSE. I love the worldbuilding already. The team is under a huge amount of stress and it’s pretty miserable to read, but I trust this author a lot. I’m in.

Happiness is a Bowl of Home by vikki Words: 1,026 Author’s Summary: The first time Shiro eats the food goo isn’t the first time Shiro eats the food goo. (What he wouldn’t give for a bowl of mac & cheese.) Originally written for the Shiro Zine organized by kayochins. My Comments: Very touching and poignant fic about Shiro’s issues with food, followed up with the team making it better. Lovely.

To Cradle a Baby by Helicopter_Buddy Words: 1,685 (1/?) Author’s Summary: Lance heard an explosion at the dead of night. He guessed it was Pidge’s doing, but he certainly didn’t expect this. My Comments: Pidge accidentally turns herself into an adorable, exhausted, frightened baby. Fortunately, Lance is there to cuddle her. It’s adorable, and satisfying as is, but I’m looking forward to more. Totes subscribed.

Earthquakes by Atalto Words: 5,578 Author’s Summary: His mother always used to warn him of tremors and buildings, of collapsing whilst the buildings around you stood strong. The signs are all there. The earthquake is coming. But he’s fine, really. My Comments: Hunk-centric hurt/comfort! Can I get a hallelujah? HALLELUJAH. It’s so good. Hunk is such a good good boy, and he helps everyone else so much all the time always, but sometimes he needs to be cuddled.

Of (Space) Dogs and Good Intentions by realityisiron Words: 7,753 Author’s Summary: When in doubt, get your friendly neighborhood Black Paladin a dog for his birthday. Well, considering you’re in a galaxy far far away, at least get him a space dog. Nothing will go wrong probably. My Comments: Absolutely precious and heartwrenching. The gang wants to make Shiro happy, so they get him a puppy, and hoo boy does it make him happy. Allura has second thoughts, it gets super angsty for a bit, but I super duper love the conclusion. Shiro gets some SLEEP.

Previously Recced Fics That Updated:

writterings’s When You Reach Me HapaxLegomenon’s The Machinations of Perception Eastofthemoon’s Towards The Sun MoonlitPaladin (MoonlitStardust)'s Gate Keeper tommino's Fighting the Surface (now complete) LonelyGirlInSpace's The Color Of Our Planet From Far Far Away (now complete) IcyPanther’s As Color Fades Away EdgarAllenPoet’s Down Time (Don't Let Me Down) Emerald_Ashes’s Coming Undone (now complete, and so satisfying) squirenonny’s Someplace Like Home Stratagem’s Water and Blood Mists’s Defying the Odds (I love this chapter so so so much) TheHomestuckWhovian's This Is New (now complete) buttered_onions’s The Size Of Our Actions achieving elysium (Ogygia)'s familiar WildWolf25′s Coran's Guide to the Care and Keeping of Earthling Humans