#i know that this is tumblr and we love our Hot Strike Summer here but THIS IS GOOD!!!! THIS IS FANTASTIC!!!!!!

[killldeer]

UPS WORKERS HAVE REACHED A DEAL THAT MEETS THEIR DEMANDS AND AVERTED A STRIKE!!!

EDIT 7/27/23: please reblog this version of the post instead! it provides a fuller picture of what’s going on and explains why this isn’t over yet.

[abruisedmuse]

For the Elucien week drabbleathon, can I have Lucien finding out about his bio father and talking through his feelings with Elain?

ELUCIEN WEEK

DAY 7: FREE CHOICE

Okay so this is kinda funny to get this. I actually have this in my docs that's a multi chapter fic. The feelings bit with Elain is spoilery for the story itself so I can't share that...yet. But what I can do is show this part. Basically in this story, Elain finds out of Lucien's parentage through a vision and this scene below is what happens after that. It's set to be a few parts. Where Lucien deals with this information and then Lucien and Elain playing matemakers lmao. The chapter after this is where we deal with Lucien and talking to Elain I can tag you in it whenever I post this story to tumblr.

TRIGGER WARNING: very, very slight mention of child abuse

The three of them settled in the sun-lit room. For an office it was worlds different than Rhys' in the river estate back in Velaris. That room was a standard four walls. This one, Helion's office in the Day Court was a rounded room. Tall ivory columns wrap around the circular area. There were no windows, it was simply an open space allowing the sunlight and the warm kiss of its rays inside to dance along the tiled floor. Elain adored the sun peering in at every angle and the soft breeze that followed. She only wished they were here for better circumstances.

Glancing between the High Lord of Day and her mate, the resemblance was uncanny. From their posture, sitting regal yet with an air of recklessness to the silken strands of hair, matching grins, and the shape of their eyes. Mother above even their nose was the same. There was no denying her vision wasn’t false. They scarcely were.

When she told Lucien of seeing Helion and his mother, he refused to believe it. He was Beron's son unfortunately. His mother would never hide this from him. Elain pointed out to him that he did in fact cleave an unbreakable spell to come to her aide that day in Hyberns. No Autumn court member, high fae or otherwise had done that. Lucien attempted to pin it on the bond. Elain dismissed it bringing up his tendency to glow when in the throes of passion. The seer had once asked her sister if this common for faes to glow while being intimate. Feyre told her it was power from the High Lord of Day. Elain never could make sense of it. Why her mate glowed like a fire bug in the summer seasons until her vision. Lucien claimed it could be from a crossed lineage years ago.

“Lucien...you said you never felt like you were a Vanserra. That there was something wrong with you.”

“Maybe this is why. Because you’re not a Vanserra. We go to the Day Court and ask Helion says no then fine.”

There was panic and fear in his russet eyes when he looked at her. “What if he says yes?”

Elain crossed the threshold to her love taking his face in her hands, resting their foreheads together, her fingers lacing with his. “Then I will be there with you and together we will hear him out.”

With reluctance he agreed and now they were here, an awkward tension like a dense fog slowly filling the silent room.

Lucien leaned backed in the golden chair, hand flexing at fae speed on the arm of it, his equally golden eye whirring as it zeroed in on Helion. The High Lord's brows quirked up in amusement, a roguish smirk pulled at the corner of his lips.

"I've always wondered what that eye of yours could do. What it could see." Elain's cheeks flushed a vibrant pink, Helion's gaze fell on her offering a wink, "Petal." He purred, "Is it alright if I call you petal?"

The smile he gave her could turn someone's insides into liquid heat. No wonder he had as many lovers as there were clouds in the sky. She chuckled before answering, shifting in her seat, "Elain is fine."

"Ah, I see. We don't want to upset your mate and have him feel left out."

Helion turned to Lucien who remained silent and watching. A steely gaze on his father, Not father and his boots tapping with the same ferocity as his hand. Elain reached through the bond feeling wave after wave of anxiousness roiling through him. It was enough to make her feel nauseous like they were in a sea of turbulent waters instead of seated, far away from any ocean. His heart, she could tell, was battering so quickly Elain was surprised it didn’t fling directly out of chest. There was something else she noticed in the bond. Realization. He knew. And Lucien was not handling it well in his mind. Elain poured her affections down the bond then overlapping her hand with his. Sweeping a thumb over his knuckles. A silent statement to say, I'm here.

Elain smiled tenderly, noting the appreciation in his russet eye as Lucien glanced at her fingers. Sliding in between his own, squeezing them in reassurance. He repeated the action to her, holding tightly as if she were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. Then his eyes met hers. The nervousness etched on his beautiful face softened. Her heart fluttered as it always did when he looked at Elain this way. Like she was his home. His comfort. His everything. Just as he was hers.

Helion coughed a bit too loudly to be real, breaking their moment, "I hate to break up this lovely storybook moment petal. If this is about the Pegasus who ate Rhys' shirt. One Rhys should come and two he left it in the stables. If you’ll excuse me, I do have a party to prepare for and guests will be arriving shortly.” Helion made to stand.

"Sit.” Lucien snarled. Helion’s eyes widened at the pitch and the bite of the one word. “We don't know anything about a Pegasus. We're here on our own accord." Lucien curtly stated.

The two high fae stared each down as Helion slid back into his chair. The fog thick tension is now so deep a knife could only strike it. Helion lifted a hand over his heart " Unfortunately, I don't take mated mates as lovers. I'm honored you thought of me to share your bed." He teased with a lovers grin. The fire in Lucien’s eye was a roaring flame. He was several seconds from exploding. Elain has seen him angry, furious, but nothing like this. If he wasn’t her mate, she’d be frightened at the burning rage beneath him.

"I find that odd. Being if Feyre or Nesta were here you'd take the chance." Elain challenged feeding off the energy her mate emitted.

"I-" His eye shuttered briefly before meeting Elain's again, "Sweet petal," he crooned before he could speak again Elain cut him off feeling Lucien's waring feelings churning through the bond.

"There's a reason you'd deny me. Us. I think it deals with a vision I had and Lucien." She gripped her mate tighter feeling his hand grow clammy yet white hot beneath her own.

Helion grew quiet, brows pressed together, his tanned chest rising and falling in rapid succession. Holding a stern gaze with Lucien. "Of?"

"The past."

Helion blanched, the color of his skin fully drained. All hints of the easy going High Lord faded into nothing. A mask of steel replaced it.

"What did you see?" His voice faltered, shaking and strained. He cleared his throat, aiming for a deeper tone in his voice. One that caused anyone to listen and obey. If an ominous storm with roaring thunder that streaked the sky in lighting had a voice it would’ve sounded like this. It came through gritted teeth in a low predatory growl. "What did you see?"

"You will not speak to her like that." Lucien snapped. Slamming his fists on the desks sparks of embers shot from his hands. Elain jumped back into the chair. Helion had the good sense to look startled for a moment, "Unlike you or my mother, she doesn't keep things from me." then Lucien added that and the steeled features returned.

It was Helion’s turn to stand and move for move copy his son’s actions. “Listen boy. I will rip your throat out if you insult your mother like that in my presence again are we clear?”

Lucien scoffed. Not the usual playful scoff Elain had grown accustomed to. This was laced with malice. “You don’t think I’ve heard threats like this before? My entire life? "I've been beaten for saying less.”

Elucien watched as the emotionless expression Helion wore quickly faded. Now his face crumbled. Pained with grief, the glow in his eyes gone as he stepped away from Lucien. Her eyes darted between the two. This wasn’t just protecting a secret she realized. There was love here. For the lady of the autumn court, and for his son. Her mate.

"I'm sorry." Helion let out in a defeated sigh. "Forgive me. forgive us."

For as fast as that heated anger ripped through Lucien, it seemed to to die down. Like the loud sigh for Helion somehow cooled her mate down.

"I-" Lucien turned to Elain unsure of what to do. Elain did not respond the whites of her eyes rolled up, her body falling back into the chair.

Mate.

The word seared in her head, when thrust back into the past, seeing Helion and the Lady of the Autumn Court together. As if her inner eye was speaking to her, revealing a part neither Lucien nor herself were ready for. Now she felt it. The golden spark tethering two souls. Pure, protective, unbreakable love. Seconds later she came back to reality.

Lucien no longer standing at the desk but kneeling in front of her. Calloused palms on hers while he searched her features.

“Elain?”

She didn’t look at him. Her gaze landed on Helion who took a step back.

“You’re mates."

“There are things bigger than telling you the truth. Stakes are high dealing with him and a situation like ours. This conversation cannot happen here.” Helion drew a finger to follow as he stood. “Ears are everywhere in Prythian. You should know this.” He fixed a sorrowful look on Lucien. “We will talk in my inner office.”

elucienweek taglist: @ladyvanserra @helion-ism @bookologist @firestarsandseneschals @thecrownlands @rarephloxes @elucienweek @nestaisgod

[rudysrings]

Twin Pogues of the OBX - 1

A/N + Summary: SO I’m currently obsessed with the Outer Banks right now, and I had no idea that there was so much hype about it until I hit tumblr after watching the show. It kind of got me back into writing for a bit so I thought I would go ahead and publish something that’s been sitting in my drafts. It’s essentially a fanfic that goes through the entire show from the perspective of the reader, who is John B’s twin sister. Let me know if it piques anyone’s interest, because I don’t want to keep pushing out something that people hate lol. 

Warnings: Mentions of sex, cursing, slowburn

Word count: 3056

Masterlist

ON WITH IT!

You didn’t want to admit it, but you were tired of listening to the waves. It made you sick to your stomach. It didn’t help that the Chateau was so close to the water that it was all you could hear at night. The waves crashing on the shore. The waves colliding with each other. The waves fighting to topple boats that made the mistake of trying to take on a storm too big for them. 

You listened for your father in every wave. You hoped you’d at least hear the ghost of your father.

Unlike John B, you had no hope that your father was alive. At first, you didn’t bother voicing that thought, but as time went on, and John B continued to have delusions, you started getting more and more vocal about your opinion. Your dad was dead. Period. 

And it was time that John B accepted that, too. 

The two of you may have been twins, but you were as different as two people could get. John B was, for the most part, quiet, reserved and mild. You, on the other hand, had a fuse shorter than the short end of the stick you had pulled. You were hot headed and often misjudged situations too quickly. John B was the calm before your storm. You preferred to call yourself passionate. You smoked, John B did not. You slept around with far too many tourons. John B did not. John B was a dense motherfucker. You could read the room the moment you walked in. The only thing that really bonded the two of you was your love for surfing, your love for the pogues and your love for your dad.

Now that one of those things had died, or simply “vanished,” as John B would say, all that was keeping your two member family together were the pogues and surfing.

The last few months had been hell, and all you wanted this summer, was to have a good time, all the time.

Speaking of which, you and the pogues had decided to break in the summer with a little rule-breaking. Kiara wanted to check out one of Gary’s new beach-house developments, which was being built right over a turtle habitat. You all shrugged at the suggestion and agreed. 

You threw a can of beer up, JJ catching it instantly, wrinkling his nose when he looked at the label. “This is the shit stuff, Y/N,” he complained. 

You rolled your eyes. “Next time I’ll boot-leg champagne for ya, sweetheart,” you drawled.

JJ winked. “That’s more like it.”

Rolling your eyes, you tossed two beers to Pope, which he promptly dropped and bent down to grab, dusting himself off, embarrassed.

You rolled your eyes, watching as he threw one to John B, who was far too drunk to hold onto it, dropping it on the deck of the house, causing it to burst. 

Before you could comment on Kie’s overly concerned “Please don’t kill yourself,” to John B, you heard voices yelling “Hey! What are you kids doing up there?!”

“Shit,” You said, looking for your hat.

“I second that shit,” said Pope nervously.

John B swiftly made his way down, grabbing Kie’s hand and leading them out, Pope on their heels. 

“Guys, have you seen my-”

Suddenly, you felt something slip over your head, and you smiled up at JJ, who patted the top of your head and pushed you down the stairs and out of the house, all five of you laughing as Gary and his men chased after you.

As John B jumped the fence, he held his hand out to help Kie over, doing the same for you once she made it. You rolled your eyes, slapping his hand away and smoothly making it over yourself.

Pope, as expected, fell over onto the ground as he jumped, JJ shoving him further jokingly. You glared at the boy, and he held his hands up as you helped Pope up, pulling him by the hand into a sprint.

JJ held his hand out of John B’s beat up old van, pulling your laughing body in. Pope closed the door as John B gunned it, but you opened it again, teasing Gary, who was struggling to catch up with you guys. 

You tossed him a beer, which he tried to catch, but failed as he stopped running, his hands on his knees.

JJ laughed as he too leaned out of the van, “They don’t pay you enough, bro!” He yelled to Gary.

Your hair blew in the wind, strands of it tickling JJ’s cheeks. 

He spat overdramatically, coughing, “Hey, uh, Y/N? You mind not choking me with your hair?”

You simply gave him a playful punch in the gut, taking a seat in between Kie’s knees, who was sitting on the bench behind John B.

Kie took your long, wild hair in her hands, taming it into a french braid. JJ watched with a goofy smile on his face, his conversation with Pope getting too boring.

John B drove down to the docks, where you guys took out the HMS Pogue for the rest of the day. You tried to slap the book out of Kie’s hands, holding a freshly rolled blunt out for her to share with you, but she glared at you, turning back to her reading. You noticed Pope doing the same thing.

JJ grabbed the blunt from your hands, lighting it. 

You leaned an elbow on his shoulder, tutting. “Didn’t realize we ran with a bunch of nerds…”

Before Kie and Pope could retort, John B turned around, releasing a pile of freshly caught fish onto the deck of the boat and you cheered. “Nice, John B. We eatin’ good, today.”

“Yeah we are. You’re cooking.”

“I’m what?” 

John B smiled smugly, “I did the catching, you do the cooking.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, “Fine then I’ll also do more of the eating.”

“I never agreed to that,” John B argued.

You turned to him, “And that’s because you’re a greedy, cocksucking parasite and-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. We’re here to have fun, you guys,” said Kie, her hands out to the two of you.

“Man, I’d really like to go one day without you guys at each other’s goddamn throats,” Pope groaned.

“Forget the fish, there’s a party tonight. First summer party. We gotta be there,” said JJ.

“Hell yeah, I’ll take a touron dick appointment over fish and chips any day,” you put your hands on your hips, looking at the rest of the pogues.

John B rolled his eyes at your blunt words, while Pope and Kie shrugged, agreeing.

Everyone looked to John B and he sighed before saying, “Yeah, I’m down.”

You all cheered, running over and piling on top of him, laughing.

The party was one of the best you had been to yet. While Kiara got on her soapbox about plastic and the boys were looking for girls to flirt with, you were on the hunt for someone who could make your night count.

As you waited in line at the keg to fill up your cup, the guy behind you spoke up. “You look too good to be hanging around the cut.” He flirted.

Your blood boiled as you turned around to get in this guy’s face. You stopped short once you saw what a nice face it was. You weren’t shallow, just… horny. “Am I now?” You smiled slightly.

He nodded, “Oh yes, too good for North Carolina even. The likes of you belong in Hollywood, babe.”

He had neatly trimmed blonde hair and striking blue eyes. Guess you had a type, after all, you thought fleetingly. 

“Wow, can I get a name, kind stranger?” You flashed your teeth.

“It’s Asher ma’am, and you are?”

You shrugged, handing your cup to the guy near the keg, who handed it back within a second, full. You put your hand on Asher’s cheek, tapping it as one would a small child, “Oh, sweetheart, you gotta earn that.”

Asher’s eyebrows rose, walking with you down the beach. “How might I go about that?” He asked, suggestively.

You smirked. “It’s not how, honey, it’s where.”

And that was all you needed to let this guy rock your world that night.

You woke up alone the next morning in the hammock outside the Chateau, having crashed there after the party. Groaning, you rolled over until you fell on the ground, struggling to pick yourself up. John B appeared out of nowhere, helping you up.

He handed you some water, which you downed immediately, his hand on your back.

“You alright, kid?” He asked. You nodded, “Yeah, I just need a shower like yesterday,” You moaned. 

John B nodded, slapping your shoulder. “Next time don’t drink so much, eh?”

You rolled your eyes, flipping him off as you walked inside. You were heading to the bathroom when you passed John B’s bedroom. You noticed JJ, half-naked and leaning over some blonde on your brother’s bed, his forehead practically touching hers. He noticed you instantly. Some emotion flashed across his face before he glared. “Dude, come on. Get outta here,” he said and you smirked.

“Get some, JJ,” you encouraged, barely dodging the pillow he hurled at you as you shut the door.

As you walked into the bathroom, you couldn’t understand why your stomach lurched when you thought about what JJ was probably doing with that blonde in John B’s bed. You shrugged, it was probably just the alcohol.

That afternoon, you and John B had an appointment with social services, who basically confirmed that you two would be put in foster care after they confirmed that your uncle wasn’t home to look after you two tomorrow.

As John B expected, you didn’t take it well. To your credit, you kept it together in the social worker’s office, but you practically had a meltdown the moment you stepped foot outside.

“How can they just fucking take us away! What did we even do wrong? It’s not our fucking fault Uncle T decided to split! Can’t they see that we’re better off on our goddamn own, John B?!” 

John B shrugged. “Not much we can do, Y/N. It’s the law.” 

At that, your breaths came even faster, “But it’s not fair, John B! What if-What if they split us up?” You were almost hyperventilating now, pulling your own hair.

John B furrowed his eyebrows, pulling you into a hug. “They’re not going to do that. I’m not going to let that happen, Y/N, you hear me?”

You pushed him away from you, “We’ll see, John B.”

The two of you caught a break. Hurricane Agatha came in the same day DCS was supposed to do your assessment. Your mind immediately went to the sick waves that would be forming. You tugged on John B’s shirt, pulling him away from the TV, “Call DCS and call them to reschedule. And then grab your surfboard.” Your grin stretched across your whole face, your eyes probably wild.

John B looked confused, then concerned. “You can’t be serious. There’s a hurricane?”

“Dead serious.” You crossed your arms. “Like you can resist these waves.”

John B shrugged. “Yeah, I’m in.”

The two of you ran out to the ocean, the dark clouds and harsh winds not fazing you, Pope having bailed on you guys, claiming that these weren’t surfable waves. 

As you surfed the waves, constantly getting wiped out due to their sheer size and speed, you couldn’t help the thought: Did a wave like this kill Dad?

John B tried to surf a few waves, but he lacked not only your skill, but also your tenacity. He gave up and simply watched you from his seat on his board. 

When you noticed a clearly fancy boat being tossed around in the waves, you pointed it out to John B, who squinted, trying to make it out. He agreed that it was strange. Who would go out in a storm like this?

The next morning, after surveying the damage that Agatha had caused, John B suggested that you guys go fishing, given the likeliness that there would be a whole lot of fish to catch in the marsh today.

Happy to put off cleaning up for a day and high on the fact that DCS wouldn’t be able to catch a ferry down here for at least a couple of days, you agreed. 

After practically kidnapping Pope from his dad and picking up Kiara, the five of you drove down to the marsh, Pope steering. 

Giggling, you pulled JJ by the hand up to the bow of the HMS Pogue and handed him one of the beers that Kiara had brought. He smirked and held it up along with you as he shouted for Pope to go faster. Pope groaned. “We’ve tried this like six thousand times.”

You shook your head. “I’ve got this. It’s gonna work.”

And it did. Kind of. You and JJ were downing your beers, Kiara complaining that it was getting in your hair. You looked over at JJ from your peripheral and smiled slightly at his silly face, mouth open like a fish as he attempted to get all of the beer that was being hurled out of the bottle.

Until the boat lurched to a sudden stop, catapulting you and JJ into the air. You felt your entire body flip as you fell into the water with a loud crash, water surrounding your ears. You broke the surface immediately, blinking against the sunlight. “Fuuuck,” you groaned.

You felt JJ reach you, wrapping an arm around your waist. “You good?” You nodded at him, resting your hands on his shoulders as you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

John B called out, “You good, Y/N? JJ?”

“I think my heels touched the back of my head,” JJ groaned.

You swam back to the boat, JJ right behind you. “Pope, what did you do?” You asked.

Pope looked as confused as the rest of you guys. “Sandbar. Channel changed.”

As you made it onto the boat, JJ pulled himself up, too, saying, “No shit.”

As your clothes were soaked, you slid your shorts and t-shirt off, leaving you in your teal halter bikini. 

You didn’t miss how JJ’s eyes dragged up your figure, his ears turning pink when he reached your eyes and realized you noticed. 

Biting your lip to keep from laughing, you turned to Pope, who had his eyes on something in the water.

“Guys...I think there’s a boat down there,” He said.

John B scoffed, “Shut up.”

Kie smiled, “No way.”

But Pope didn’t let up, “No, no, guys. I’m serious. There’s a boat down there.”

You all leaned over the side of the boat and sure enough, there was a large shadow, vague, but obviously in the shape of the hull of a boat.

“Holy shit. He’s right; let’s go!” You said, jumping into the water. 

As you swam towards the shadow, you heard Pope muse, “You think there’s a dead body down there?”

You couldn’t stop your subconscious from immediately thinking Dad.

You almost threw up at the thought of stumbling across your own father’s drowned corpse.

But you knew that if that was the case, you would handle it far better than John B. You swam faster, trying to get down there before him.

The five of you made your way to the boat, your eyebrows raising against the water as you saw what kind of boat it was. This was a rich guy’s boat for sure. You recognized it as the boat from yesterday. You all took a peek inside, but couldn’t make out a body. You sighed aloud, bubbles releasing in the water. 

As you guys resurfaced, you all laughed. 

“That’s a Grady-White,” JJ laughed in shock, “A new one of those is like 500 Gs, easy.”

You guys climbed back into the boat. John B gave you a look. “That’s the boat we saw when we surfed the surge. Maybe it hit the jetty or something.”

Kie looked confused. “You surfed the surge.”

You smirked. “Well… I surfed the surge. John B mostly just watched.” Your brother rolled his eyes but he didn’t correct you.

JJ was getting on the boat when he heard you say that and his entire face lit up. “Yeah, that’s my girl, pogue style,” he said, giving you a high-five. 

You grinned back, your stomach involuntarily tumbling at the words my girl.

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself. Kie noticed, shooting you a look.

You blushed, looking away.

Pope asked, “Wait, wait, do we know who’s boat that is?”

John B opened the hatch on the deck of the boat, looking for the anchor inside. “No. but we’re about to find out.”

JJ shook his head, “Dude, it’s too deep.”

“Only for the weak and feeble, JJ,” John B said.

“Well, I’m not resuscitating you. I’m just making that clear up front.”

You worried that there could still be a body down there. Your father’s body. John B couldn’t see that. Plus, something about the thought of diving felt like a challenge. You took the anchor from John B’s hands. “I’ll go,” You said.

“What the fuck, no Y/N,” said John B.

JJ grabbed your upper arm, “Yeah, not a good idea,” he said.

You shook him off lightly. “I’m doing it,” you insisted.

JJ shrugged. “Well, I wouldn’t mind resuscitating you,” he joked.

You rolled your eyes, “You wouldn’t even know how.”

JJ smirked, “Yeah, but I have experience with-”

Pope interjected as you walked to the edge. “Diver down, fool,” he shook his head in slight disappointment. But then again, when was Pope not disappointed in you?”

JJ came over to you. Looking you hard in the eyes, he gave you a questioning look. You steeled your eyes. “I’m ready.”

He smirked, “You better be.” He gave you a shove on your shoulders, pushing you backwards off the bow of the boat and you could hardly hear him say “Diver down,” and John B say, “The fu-” before the water hit you, swallowing you whole as you quickly sunk with the weight of the anchor.

Masterlist

[sweeterthankarma]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: SKAM (France) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Maya Etienne/Lola Lecomte Characters: Lola Lecomte, Maya Etienne Additional Tags: Post-Season/Series 06, Pre-Rehab, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Fluff Summary:

It’s a little bit embarrassing for Lola, if she’s honest. There are two thoughts fluttering around in her mind, desperate to be said, though she keeps her mouth shut, busies it with kissing Maya’s. One: she’s in love. Two: she doesn’t want to leave.

Title comes from the song "Lucky Strike" by Troye Sivan.

Grass tickles Lola’s ankles, the stretch of skin between the hem of her jeans and her high rise socks that scrunch against her shins. With fabric the color of rosewood and patterned with little flowers that have lost their definition after too many cycles in the wash, Lola figures that even a stranger could likely tell that they don’t belong to her, but rather the girl beside her.

Lola doesn’t ask, but she knows she’s taking these socks with her when she goes, maybe even snagging a few other pairs from Maya’s drawers, the ones with cats or pizza or funny sayings scrawled with loose, stringy thread. “Putain, c’est lundi,” reads one pair that Lola’s seen Maya wear most frequently, always on the correct day of the week, and never without a chipper, unwavering smile on her face. Lola thinks Maya should give those socks to her indefinitely, or at least for the next few weeks as well, considering that her own wardrobe— almost exclusively solitary colors, primarily black— echoes the sentiment rather well.

Besides, Lola just wants every piece of Maya that she can get, every bit that she can possibly hold onto.

They’re not exactly dancing around the subject— where Lola’s going, why she’s going, how long it’s going to be— but they’re not really talking about it either. Lola doesn’t exactly want to either,  hence why she brought the food— crepes, bread, salad drenched in vinegar, feta, and olives; Icelandic style yogurt, countless pre-packed containers of fruit, just to name a few. It’s all in hopes to keep them busy, sated, though she knows they don’t need food to accomplish that.

Some bird squawks in the distance. Lola’s knees shift, twist up the picnic blanket, and Maya laughs beneath her, the sound shiny and silver and golden and actually just about every color Lola’s ever seen, ever known, mixing and blending into one. The dots of eyeliner beneath Maya’s lower lash line scrunch up against her top one when she goes on, keeps giggling, keeps looking at Lola like she’s lucky, like she’s happy. It’s hard for Lola to believe that she is. Even harder to believe that Maya is beautiful— so, so beautiful— and Maya is hers. Even if just for right now, just for this brief, fleeting moment. If that’s all that this is, all it’ll ever be, Lola will take it, no questions asked.

But she feels safe, steady, like she can trust this. Like it isn’t going anywhere, like Maya isn’t running, or won’t be as soon as she gets the chance. Her hands skate up Lola’s back, tap against either side of her spine, each notch, all the way until she reaches the nape of Lola’s neck. Lola doesn’t need coaxing to bend down, to kiss her, again and again and again and again. She could tell Maya that, but she won’t. Won’t do anything to make them move, to get Maya to pull her hands away from her shoulders, to make her be in any position where she can’t be like this, holding her, with her.

It’s a little bit embarrassing for Lola, if she’s honest. There are two thoughts fluttering around in her mind, desperate to be said, though she keeps her mouth shut, busies it with kissing Maya’s.

One: she’s in love. Two: she doesn’t want to leave.

She sticks with silence. Maya is good for her, but Maya is good, period, just as whole on her own as she is when she’s in Lola’s arms, splayed out beneath her looking like the purest picture of heaven Lola’s ever imagined. Lola, however, needs to be just as good on her own, and there’s one third, final statement that she knows, maybe even truer than the first two, no matter how much she’s going to drag her heels on the way out the door: she has to leave.

It’s what she needs right now. There’s no way around it. And honestly, it’s a good thing. It’s going to be a good thing. This time, she swears it’ll be different.

    “You taste like strawberries,” Maya mumbles against Lola’s lips, nudging them back together in more of a languid movement than a purposeful kiss. Lola’s back burns hot from the sun, from Maya’s fingers playing with the straps of her shirt.

    “We ate a lot of strawberry things,” Lola supplies. A little movement of her elbow and she’s both shrugging the strap down more and nudging the non-alcoholic champagne beside them. It rolls off the fabric of the blanket and into the grass, onto its condensation-wet side. Maya turns her head to the side to look at it, as if wistfully, like it’s long gone and wouldn’t take another effortless, lackadaisical attempt to retrieve it. Then she’s peering back up at Lola again— unbothered, still beaming, flushed from Lola’s kisses and the July sun— and that’s as close as they’ll get to the topic.

That’s okay with Lola. This is more than okay with her, finding solace and hope and renewal in the arms of the first person who’s ever truly loved her without any kind of force, any sort of mandate. Maya is pure, giddy and true, and Lola is sure she mirrors her expression, even if not her soul— at least not quite yet anyways, though Lola’s really not expecting to come out of rehab with a heart that’s anywhere as close to gold as Maya’s. It’s therapy and routine and good influences, not magic.

But Lola has no doubts that if she could see herself, more than just the limited reflection in Maya’s summer-drenched eyes, that she’d have difficulty recognizing herself. For once, she finally means that in a good way.

     “Viens ici, chérie,” Maya says, and Lola’s sinking down again, fitting her legs between Maya’s and dropping her cheek against her chest. The softness of her t-shirt , decorated with cherries and a stitched-in saying in English, something about féminisme, sweeps against Lola’s kiss-stained lips, rhythmic with every rise and fall of Maya’s chest.

    “Let’s stay here all day,” Maya decides, sounding wistful and far away. Lola wonders how it’s taken her this long to propose that idea when she’s been thinking since the moment they arrived that maybe they should just say “screw it” to the rest of the world, camp out here forever, find eternal blue sky in some vacant park far too wide and flourishing to sensibly be this empty.

    “That was the plan,” Lola answers, sounding entirely committal and meaning it. She reaches up, finds loose fists of lilac hair, the back of her hand brushing against the shell of Maya’s right ear. Maya hums in content— maybe at the touch, maybe at the words, maybe just at Lola’s presence— and Lola does it right back, then sets on a mission to kiss every centimeter of Maya’s skin that she can reach. She does it for now, for the minute after that she hasn’t yet gotten to, and when that minute comes, she’ll do it for tonight, when Basile will make her his famous risotto again and Daphné will cry like she always does when these sorts of departures happen, even though this time it’ll be for different reasons than before. Lola kisses Maya for tomorrow when she’ll be too busy packing, for the evening when she’ll sleep alone in her bed for the last time for a while, and she kisses her for every day after that, every day until she comes home.

Goodbye will be hard, but it won’t be for long. Lola swears she’ll be rebuilt, rejuvenated, better in no time.

If you enjoyed, please let me know! Comments and kudos make my day.

Come say hi and talk to me about the Skamverse at my Tumblr blog here or at my Twitter account here! I adore Lola and Maya, so if there's anything else you'd like me to write for them, tell me about it and I'll see what I can do!

[boogiewrites]

Never Break the Chain

Part 1 of 5

Characters: Javier Peña x OFC

Summary: The story follows the moments in their relationship in which things change, carrying the story of their romance from being young and in love in Texas at age 18 to the modern Narcos timeline. We follow Esme on her rise to being a top thief and Javier Peña's rise in the ranks. We see how their paths inevitably intersect in Columbia and how they handle coming face to face after a faked death and decades apart. It's dramatic, it's a cop loving a criminal and them being torn between their ways of life and their love. There's a happy ending among the angst.

Warnings/Tags: Argument, Heartbreak, Young love, faked death. 

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

The air was as still and silent as a hot Texas summer night could be. The buzz of the insects and the rustle and call of the nocturnal animals felt familiar to Esme and were a white noise that made her feel she was home. The moon was high and bright, illuminating the rushing and recently risen river below her. Summer storms had made their way through, a brief break to the smothering heat and filling the formerly waning river bed. It made for a great day on these rare summer occurrences, floating about lazily and working on her tan, drinks were plentiful between friends and you could let any stress you had floated down the river after you left. As she gripped the old iron railing of the backroad bridge, feeling the failing paint flaking under her anxious hands, she knew those golden days of youth and summer were falling behind her now. The river would take her trouble away tonight, but in the morning a whole new set would emerge in their place. Even so, this is what she wanted, deep down she knew the conversation she was about to have wasn’t going to be one with a happy ending, and she’d prepared for that. Still, until she heard the words from his lips herself, that last bit of naivete she had left would hope against hope that this night wouldn’t end in tears.

Her upbringing with a single mother, no stability that she could recall, and inheriting her mother’s reputation, only doing what she had to make a living, she knew there were no happy endings. Being a striking Latin woman, hell, a woman at all was enough to teach her the authorities in place were corrupt and broken. She’d been born a criminal they’d said. It was first said the moment she opened her eyes. “Look at this little one, a thief.” her father had said. “Esmeralda we’ll call her, as she’s already stolen emeralds for her eyes.” Her father hadn’t come from a line of fortune-tellers that she was aware of, but he’d unknowingly planted the seed that would grow to become her destiny. One filled with heartbreaking choices and world view shattering experiences she would be told she was strong for overcoming. She didn’t think anyone needed to be applauded for being strong. It came from being broken and filling the gaps with something that couldn’t be torn apart again. Her so-called strength was just the glaringly apparent failures of the power structures in place. And she knew the only way to get ahead, to move from outside their oppressive shadow was to beat them at their own game.

The boy on his way to convince her to not follow her dreams didn’t know that yet. He had his delusions and she wasn’t sure she had the heart to take them away from him. Things wouldn’t always work out, he wasn’t going to save anyone, let alone her. But if you asked her, she didn’t need saving.

The hiss of drying raining on the asphalt under the tires of his muscle car didn’t help distract him from where he was headed. Every rendezvous with her up to this point had been nothing but a flip in his stomach and tension in his balls. Where yearning and excitement once lay there was only dread and uncertainty. He was young, he was full of confidence and despite the chronic bad attitude and bloody knuckles, he kept he still thought he could make her stay. He wouldn’t lose her. He couldn’t. She loved him she’d said. That meant something to an 18-year-old boy still deep in his first love and soon to be last heartbreak. The flashes of running from the cops, late nights spent in the back seat of his car, some laying together next to the dashboard light with the radio creating a soundtrack to their youth unknowingly. He gulps, recalling the way she looked at him when they were alone. They were all burned into his mind and they would be there for many years to come. He couldn’t help but remember the first time he saw her, walking into an abandoned house the local kids used for parties. They held the same beer in their hands, locked eyes that held the hunger of teenage lust. Her in cut-offs and a bikini top, deep brown from the summer sun, bouncy black hair in waves falling down her shoulders and framing a heart-shaped face with eyes greener than he’d ever seen.

They were both attractive and rebellious, it took nothing to make them like each other. They were quick to go to bed, and he was quick to fall with for her independent nature, and his desire to protect her quickly fell in behind. She wasn’t like any other girl he’d met, and he thought it was a compliment. But as the lust faded, love grew in its place, seeing what hardships she faced and trying his damnedest to save her from them. He rode in on his steel horse and swept her away despite her insistence she didn’t need it. But when he spoke softly and touched her the same in the sweat-soaked leather seats, naked and vulnerable by both clothes and emotions, she couldn’t help but cry and let him hold her, both sharing their fears. Their biggest in their lives at that time was simply losing the other.

The familiar sound of his car didn’t help ease the knot in her stomach like it used to. She sighed deeply, letting the headlights fall upon her as he pulled up the bridge. No one ever said chasing your dreams would be easy.

“Hey sweetheart.” his smooth voice, soft only for her, flooded her ears as they closed the space between them instinctively. Her heart ached as he wrapped his scabbed hands around her waist, one rough palm to her cheek as if he were assuring he had her full attention.

“Hola, Javi.” she whispers against his lips. He does as he has before, pretending things are fine for as long as he can. Talking sweet and pushing back her hair, kisses to her temples like he always did when she was emotional. It was inevitable his lips would find their way through the small talk to her neck. And they did. “You know you can’t fuck your way out of this conversation.” she smiles, taking her hands to direct his face to look at hers.

“Worth a shot..” he nods with his signature cockiness she no longer found annoying but endearing. A dangerous feeling indeed.

He looks her over, hands gentle but firm as he ran them over her arms and sides, mapping her out in movements that would drive him to drink later on.

“I know your answer, mi Amor, I see it in your eyes. Just say it so we can move on.”

“Don’t make me Esme.” it wasn’t begging but there was a desperation to his furrowed brow as he looked down and finally met her eyes. “I told you what I have to do. I can’t stay here. I can’t be this girl anymore.”

“I don’t wanna lose you, baby, please.” There was the begging. The desperation was in those almost black-brown eyes as they glassed over, the lump in his throat growing by the second.

“You cannot go be part of a system that wants to enslave me. We can’t be together in this world, Javi. You KNOW this. You can’t be the cop and I the criminal. No way works. One of us ends up in jail...or worse.”

“You’re talkin' like you wanna kill me now all the sudden.”

“Never.” she holds his face with a veil of anger in her eyes. “I love you, Javier. I always will. But you are a weakness. You are the only man that knows me. The only man that could best me. And that is because I love you. I have to be who I am, I am a criminal and you are going to go off and be a part of what wants to keep oppressing people like me? Just because we are trying to get ahead? To make a life for ourselves because your government has failed its people? We can’t be together if you do this.”

“You don’t have to go off and do all this crazy shit, Esme. You’ve been reading too many books, baby, you don’t have to go off and steal and con. You could stay here. With me. Where you belong.”

“And do WHAT exactly? You want me to...work in an office? Be a cashier at the grocery store for the rest of my life? You want me miserable? That’s selfish and you know it. I’m not something you get to control, I’m not keeping myself small for you no matter how much I may love you. That’s a fate worse than death for a woman like me.”

“Not any part of you wants that? A simple life? With a good man? Have a few kids...a house. Just...be happy?”

“You are not stupid Javi, stop asking stupid questions. You know me better than anyone and you know that is not me. I will grow bored and loathsome, I would end up hating you and my choices and we would end up hating each other. I would rather us be in love in our memories than hate you in reality.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. Because I see it every day. In the women that glare at me when I walk down the street. The jealousy...they look down on me saying I am trash but it’s because they wish they had what I have. Drive, ambition, fucking OPTIONS. Those women are trapped by their decisions and I will be too if I stay.”

“You think staying with me is being trapped?”

“It is not you, Javi. It is what you will become. I love this..this Javier right now. But you be indoctrinated. You’ll change into someone else and I am not willing to change for you. I’m sorry.”

“I knew I shouldn't've let you hang out with those damn hippies…”

“This is all me Javi. This is no one else. You are the one being fed lies of being a good guy among the bad, that you can save everyone. It’s a lie. I do not want to tell you this because I know it’s your dream to help but mi Amor ...it is not real.”

“And I don’t think your dream is real! I think it’s a lot of horse shit.”

She stands in silence looking at him, his hands on his hips defensively. “Then we agree.” she nods. “Goodbye, Javi. I love you. Always.” she begins to turn and knows before she feels his hand around her arm that it would happen.

“Don't leave Esme you’re the only good thing I got.” he shakes her by the shoulders.

“And if you don’t think I feel the same you’re mistaken.” she almost spits out. “I do not WANT to leave. But to become what I must I have to. And I’m sorry it has to be this way. But it does.”

“If you leave I’ll find you. You know I will. I’m not gonna let you go. I can’t.” he chokes out.

“I know.” she sighs. “Which is why I must take such a drastic measure. To me... staying is a fate worse than death. I know you would find me.” she chuckles and he looks at her with wet confused eyes. “You are my weakness, Javier. You are the only man I know that could ever find me. Ever best me at my own game. And you will not stop looking for me.”

“I never would.” he whispers.

“Which is why I'm so sorry. So.... so sorry mi Amor.” she begins to cry and kisses him, pressing against him hard, his back hitting up against his car and a muffled struggle to embrace one another ensues.

There’s a swift movement and click. Javi’s head jerks to look down, arm tugging against the cuffs she’d just slipped on him and through his vehicle door. “I’m sorry Javi. I am.” she says as his anger grows.

“ESME?!” he barks. “Let me GO! Are you fuckin’ CRAZY?”

“Maybe.” she sighs and walks a few paces away, to the railing of the bridge, looking down at the water. ‘There is only one way you will let me go Javi. I cannot have you being my weakness, or my capture, or my pursuer. I would spend my life looking over my shoulder.”

“What the FUCK are you talking about?!” his voice breaks, a shout scaring the animals in the brush nearby.

She stands on the railing, wind through her hair and a feeling of true freedom being just outside her grasp. She hears him struggling behind her, the desperate grunts and whimpers, his words and shouts join the shite noise of the water as she closes her eyes. She turns only her head to meet his wild eyes one last time, a snapshot in her mind to carry with her into her new life. “I love you, Javier Pena. Never doubt that. I’ll see you in the next life.”

And with that, she was gone. Over the railing as Javi screamed until he was hoarse, his wrist fractures and bruised from the force of trying to free himself. It would break him, and he would be born into a new life. Just like her.

She knew it was drastic, but the only way she would be able to escape not only his love of her but of hers for him. He had to think she was dead.

@likedovesinthewnd @jaegeeeeer @biharryjames @ladamari68​ @past-romantic​ @weliketomoveit 

[whaleofatjme1920]

heyo can i request a romantic matchup with one of the creepypasta guys perhaps??

-im 20 years old with dark brown fluffy short hair that goes just a bit above my shoulders. im bisexual and i go by she/they pronouns. im 5'6. im a cancer sun, virgo moon, and sag rising. im also female!

-im an infj!

-i like making flower crowns for people, custom earrings, and rings! i rlly love nature and the woods so i enjoy walking along on a path or settling down by a relaxing river to have a nice lil picnic :)

-swimming is a big thing for me, i love just jumping into a lake and swimming around yk?

-i rlly love indie, rock, grunge and 50's to 90's music. i have a great love for 80's movies and the horror genre.

-i love superhero and action stuff like the avengers and x-men as well as stuff from DC.

-uhmm im an artist. i do trad but also digital art. if i paint i like to paint scenery. im also a singer and i write my own songs. i play the guitar and the ukulele!!

-i own two rats and two cats! yes they get along lmaodksjsj. im a witch whos into crystals, herbs, dieties and all. i do tarot and pendulum. i love drinking tea especially mint and chamomile teas.

-things i dislike: alcohol, someone yelling at me, aggressiveness, going on boats, too much heat, summer, thunderstorms, chicken, being alone in the extreme dark in a place like the woods, seeing or hearing stuff like people gagging or their nails being ripped off :// (i can somehow take gore tho-)

-things i like: tea, some coffees, sunflowers, motorcycles, cuddling, relaxing inside on my bed while its raining outside, the calming sound of rain, autumn, when its chilly out, seafood

-i actually rlly love reading and sometimes I like to write lil short stories or make up characters but not too deep into them. just fun little things yk?

-i kinda rlly like playing w ppls hair- like having them sit in my lap. or having them do it to me.

-omg chasing each other in an empty (empty as in like no other ppl) pretty field during a picnic date with our favorite music on?? YES PLS

-WATCHING THE SUNSET AND SUNRISE OMGGG

-i don't rlly plan on having kids :/ i don't do well with them so. fur babies as in pets tho! ABSOLUTELY

-i kinda would be a big spoon but also a little spoon. i'd do either.

-if im being honest one of the downsides of me is that I get emotional quickly in an argument :// or like I get defensive or if someone yells at me I get sad and start crying. I don't seek out fights tho and I try to avoid them.

-despite how much I like to talk im an ambivert leaning towards introvert. I get panic-y quick in public w people I don't know and im rlly nervous but i try to be as friendly as possible and keep a convo going. around my friends and stuff tho im an absolute goof ball!

-i like staying home tbh its calming

-i don't like seeing messy things eiakssksk i like organization but im not controlish about it. I like to clean tbh its kinda fun.

-my love language is honestly quality time and touch. some words of affirmation is nice too tho,, sometimes I get scared someone will get bored of me and leave ://

-i love to buy or make ppl gifts! i like to see people happy. the look on ppls faces when they see that i bought them something they rlly love makes me warm and fuzzy :,))

-im not rlly a jealous person tbh. but if someone outright is happening like obvious flirting,, i WILL say something if my partner isn't taking care of it themself.

-honestly i love being a goof but when its time to be serious ill be serious

-i talk alot so i need someone who'll be willing to listen to me talk and be interested in what im saying EIOSLAKS ill also absolutely listen to anything they say :))

-i don't care abt body types or looks rlly and im not just saying that.

-i love to remind ppl that they're stunning and gorgeous and they deserve the world 😩🤌

-i like having deep convos about random things. like who found out that we should drink cow milk? why are wild animals just fine w out toothpaste but we absolutely need to brush our teeth??

-id love to cook or bake something with someone :))

-i can't rlly think of anything else to say abt myself so

Your matchup is... Hoodie/Brian Thomas!

In general:

Took me a hot minute or so but I ultimately decided on Brian because it's the vibe I'm getting. Let's elaborate on that.

What he likes about you:

I always start out with the physical stuff first and I'm just going to say that Brian really likes your hair! Thinks it is absolutely gorgeous and fun. Will compliment how fluffy it is. Likes that you're into nature, crafty, and your music choice! Thinks your art is super fun and will want to see it. Thinks your singing voice is absolutely beautiful. Coming back to this. Your pets are fun to him as well, and your likes just seem to really line up with him y'know?? Especially loving Autumn, rain, when it's chilly, all that kind of fun stuff.

General cute things:

ALright, I feel like swimming outings would be a thing between the two of you. Brian likes water. It's just the vibe I get. Make him flower crowns please lmfao. Brian is soft and actual sunshine when he wants to be. He will watch the sunrise and sunset with you!!! He loves to just strum his guitar in the early mornings, listening to the birds sing. I feel like music dates would be a thing between the two of you. Just sitting in a flower field, watching the world go by, singing and all that cute stuff. Brian is admittedly a bit of a home body as well, so like,,,,,, hey. Just the two of you curling up on the couch, taking naps? Yes. Brian will occasionally get you gifts of things that remind him of you. He also gives me the vibe that he would get you flowers just because he thinks you'll find them pretty. He will goof around with. ALSO, Brian loves to listen to you!! Please talk to him about whatever is on your mind and I guarantee he's going to love it!! You being such a sweet person makes his heart sing? Like, you just reaffirming all the things he needs to hear make him so happy. He will also play with your hair, and on other days, he will rest his head on your lap and you can play with his.

You two as a couple:

Y'know, I think the only thing that might be a bit of a talking point between the two of you is the not having kids thing. Brian strikes me as such a strong family man. However, I don't think he's incapable of bending, so if the two of you want to be fur parents, he'd be just fine with that. Other than that, one of Brian's love languages is touch to like, be prepared for hugs, kisses, all that wholesome stuff. He's definitely a bit of an insomniac so like, please spend time with him cuddling on the roof while the two of you talk about anything and everything. Brian will definitely cook and bake with you as well, seeing those are two things he loves to do. You won't ever have to worry about jealousy with Brian because he's a king of "I have a partner stop speaking to me :)" You can also spoon him, he'd find that comforting. Brian prioritizes communication, so if you start crying, or anything like that, he'll give you some space and then come back to it. He doesn't want to cause you any harm, but some things need to be spoken about. Brian will also be your rock if the two of you go out in public and you're not very happy or overwhelmed. I swear, he's always going to be there for you.

Closing thoughts/other things:

Hi love bug, sorry this is late. The matchups were giving me some wonky type of burn out, but it's here now. To answer your thing about why animals don't need toothpaste, it actually has a lot to do with their diet! They don't eat refined sugars or the high amount of acids we do, and they also tend to eat way more twigs, sticks, bark, bones and even grass that help keep their mouths free of debris. Tell me about your characters and stories! One of my favorite things to do outside of running this blog is OCs and world building. Again, apologies for this being late. Tumblr doesn't timestamp when things come in so I just kinda guess?? I imagine it's been here for a while, my bad, I've been working out of order now. As always, let me know what you think and I hope you enjoyed!

[spacegaywritings]

Hello, we are the Neighbours -  2 (final) “Starry Night”

 Summary: Virgil uses she/her and he/him. Remy uses he/him. Emile uses they/fae. Logan uses they/them Tags: a LOT of swearwords, edginess, Teenagers scare the living shit out of me, edibles, mentions of getting high, marijuana (implied), questionable living conditions, stress, insomnia/sleeplessness, crappy parents, (depression?) SOFT SIBLING MOMENT (analogical)

Tumblr: previous // ao3 : 1 /  2 . ALL // masterlist //

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Story under the cut:

Virgil hugged his stupid friend closer, his face buried in the mess of Remy’s pastel purple sweater.

 She was basically wearing nothing but a big army jacket and boxers, herself. The pinkish scars on her chest were fainting with time but still showing after all these months.

 Remy was at least in a skirt longer than usual - this one actually covered his ass completely. Instead of big boots, he had white summer slippers one. He almost looked like a ballerina with his long legs, small-ish statue and flawless skin.

 The sun slowly sunk down the horizon while the two cuddled.

 “You know, you are almost out of there, anyway. It does not matte. You got so far, Virgil. You will get through this too, with or without me.”

 She shook her head ever so slightly, her pumpkin hair curling over his shoulder. He had recently dyed it again.

Every now and then Virgil was forced into self-care. That meant Remy would drag him over to his place, give him a little bit of wellness time such as doing face masks and painting his nails. Of course, he would also give her a dye-job when necessary or just wanted. Remy was rather good at it after all. Without him, Virgil would not take such care of himself. It was all Remy’s doing.

 “Nu. I will strike. I am not gonna do shit without you. I don’ wanna.”

 She mumbled silently, gently hugging Remy closer. He carefully held the feral bastard close.

 “You have to. You can do it. If I don’t get in, I will find work where you live and we can move in together and I will clean for you, so you and Logan don’t die.”

 The smaller one curled up, his knees pressing against his chest as he put his weight against Remy in ever-persistent patience. A little snort escaped her after all.

When he was not an anxious mess, he got to be more than just the calming friend but also the braincell of the group. He was rational and got things together. No wonder he applied for studies in mechanics.

 “You would do that..?”

 Virgil pulled back a bit, yet still remained in her little ball of limbs. He was barely covered with his short pants in their plaid pattern. The big jacket was so drastically oversized, Virgil was sitting on it since its length clearly exceeded his height. It was supposed to be worn by someone else so it would not cover them down to their thighs.

 Remy gently brushed over his shoulder.

 “I would do whatever to be with your sorry ass. If you live on your own and gotta take care of another living being, you will probably just die, like, instantly. You are so fucking oblivious and sensitive after all.”

 He gently nudged her.

 “Be my wife.”

 Remy felt heat rise in his chest. He vehemently shook his head, his stomach fuzzy all of a sudden. Thousands of little feathers tickled him from inside and his cheeks reddened to match his heated blood.

If he did not know better, he would have said that he had done no more but choked on his spit.

 “Virgil!”

 The illegal little potion of bitter rage hugged him against the playful struggles and shoves from his side.

 “Shut up-”, he demanded squeakily, “I am not gonna be anyone’s fucking wife, I am a qUeEN.”

 His voice broke at the last word, delicately proving his point in being true royalty of great manners and high levels of taste.

Remy was a true piece of art and he was, as he often repeated, “a luxury few could afford.”

 A pair of headlights glanced onto their backs, lighting up the scene when the whole sky was turning dark. Their shadows were drawn out before them, making Remy shrink in on himself and look back to check who or what was approaching them.

The running car engine they could hear made it evident that this was a person rolling around in a vehicle.

 Who?

 Virgil pushed Remy down onto their blanket, carefully trapping him below her.

 “Hey, Em, come in and hurry, we can sacrifice him right now while he is still a virgin!”

 Remy threw his hands into Virgil’s face. Ungodly screeches escaped his throat as he pushed and grabbed and tore at the untouchable bastard of humankind.

 “You fucking wish! Stop projecting your assless life onto me!”

 Finally, Remy pushed his knees into Virgil’s guts and pushed the idiot off his shoulders. Emile had finally gotten out of the car, basket under their arm and a blanket pressed against heir chest.

 “Hey, save some dumbassery for me!”, fae complained as they plopped down between the two. Honestly, they felt like those kind of people everyone would comment on about how much they behaved like an old, married couple.

Not that they were wrong.

 “I am not duuuumb!”, Remy whined.

 He sat up again, shoulders quickly pressing against Emile’s who got comfortable. That bastard was really out there, fucking wearing a leather-like jacket with spikes and shit. He could see the colours on the dark material and could only assume faem to have customised the article.

They were the only one to have covered legs. Black ripped-jeans hugged their endlessly long walking sticks and their feet were covered in worn-out sneakers. Void of any big brand names or associations, of course.

 Probably all of this was either made by private businesses, friends, faerself or smaller companies barely anyone knew about.

 “Emile, put some sense into her! He is being a real bitch again”

 Virgil blew raspberries to the complainer and immediately threw his legs over Emile’s inviting lap.

 “If you got an issue with cuddles, you better go and sit on his side”, she challenged silently. Emile did not budge, much to his delight.

“Good bean.”

 The newby commented with a little chuckle, gently drawing Emile in by putting one arm around him.

 “I got ya two cuties some drinks on the way here. Who wants the coffee and who wants the cotton candy pink whatever capitalism-victim? You two definitely need something to suck on.”

 Virgil waved his arms around, stimmy hands flapping like birds’ wings. His long sleeves smacked themselves due to them exceeding his fingers. Her heart was fluttering in sudden excitement. He was aflame like a bunch of dry grass set on fire.

 “YES! Gimme gimmeee gimmeeeee!! I want the caffeine!”

She pointed at the basket and reached for it but Remy quickly smacked their sleeves away.

 “You are not getting any fucking caffeine, you half-dead junkie zombie, you”, Remy cursed. In a flare of problem-solving skills, he pulled the basket closer, just out of reach from the slightly shorter idiot. He grabbed the caffeine-packed cup of ice-cold sin.

 Fae blinked, unimpressed, “Just hand me the chocolate one. Pink unicorn is for our rainbow bunny, then.”

 Remy’s smile grew even wider.

 Did they say... bunny...?

 Virgil pouted in return, her reaction less than ideal. Instead of complaining, his legs pulled them closer by their lap and rested there, snuggled up against the pal with the colourful hair. Not even a beanie this time.

 “I am not a bunny”

 He slurped up some of the pinkish drink from hell.

It was tasty.

Such a bitch.

How dare it be tasty when he tried to be angry with Emile for giving him free stuff and falsely calling him a bunny when he was clearly a unicorn! Like the drink!

 Remy nodded sagely, sensing a bit of mood at this moment.

 “Virgil thinks he is a unicorn despite looking like a bunny but that is okay. We still love him.”

 His hand sneaked over to her, gently patting her shoulder and indirectly bringing himself closer to Emile in the process.

Not that anyone was complaining.

He was simply slurping his iced coffee in gratitude. It calmed down his hot face and fidgety fingers. Holding the cool cup gave his fingers something to do at least.

 For a moment, Emile’s forest eyes looked into his soul. Fae blinked and nodded before turning back to Virgil.

 “Virgil, do you feel like a unicorn? Do you identify as one?”

 Emile looked at her, carefully brushing over her legs as they attempted to keep eye contact. Virgil looked away, face fully averted.

Fae patiently squeezed his leg.

 “If you want me to call you unicorn, I will. I just liked the nickname bunny for you because you jump a lot and are very active.”

 Remy smiled. He did not notice but he leaned against Emile’s patient shoulder with his own head.

Fae minded the contact with a little blink and one of faer unoccupied hands moving to take Remy’s.

 The pouting smalls still looked away, stubbornly staring at the sky instead of facing the other two idiots.

 “You know, I really hate littering, too.”

 Virgil cleared her throat, gently hugging her flat stomach a bit. It was not exactly colder than before but maybe by now his open jacket and exposing outfit proved to be impractical for stargazing together.

 “If you call me bunny and nobody else, I am okay. And if you mean it as a nice name. Remy too. Even though Remy was a butt about it because I know I am a unicorn, even with ears!”

 His voice got a bit louder. Then she nodded in self-assurance to end the sentence and prove a point. He pulled a phone up with him on it, hood over his head, the bunny ears flailing around from the impact of being so harshly moved around.

The small friend snuggled up to Emile and reached out to hold Remy’s hand too.

 “You are dumb but you are both okay. You two can call me bunny but I will stab anyone else who tried to do that.”

 She huffed softly.

 Remy squeezed their hands together and put Virgil’s and Emile’s soft hands together.

 “You are our little bunny, then.”

 The tallest of the three hummed in thought, their eyes slipping close.

 “You guys wanna get high now or later? Because I am ready.”

 Virgil shook his head.

 “Can’t. I will die.”

 Remy nudged Emile so much, it pushed them all against Virgil and had her nearly topple over. She hissed at Remy and angrily glared at him.

 “You gotta take a chill pill. I will bring you home with me and the day after. We came in one car anyway.”

 Emile looked between them.

 “What is the issue? Do you have to go home later?”

 Their voice was so smooth and innocent, it felt like talking to a child for just a moment. They both knew there was more than enough wit between these words to take down a whole system.

 “I gotta take care of my baby sibling. They are tiny baby and need someone to look out for them.”

 Remy shook his head adamantly.

 “Logan is, like, 13 and would love to be home alone from your exhausted ass. If you wanna, I will babysit them with Emile. You mind that at all?”

 The addressed pal stole a quick glance from Remy for just a moment before looking into the dark night sky.

 “It is settled. Virgil, we are officially kidnapping your hot butt and putting you on high duty of being dummy idiotic and free of responsibilities for a few hours. We will take a look at your sibling, too. Promise.”

 Virgil let out a whine.

Her hand pushed the now empty cup into the abandoned basket Emile had brought along.

He laid down all over Remy’s and Emile’s long legs in the dramatic flair of imitating death or at least heavy defeat.

 “Mmm... will you give me ice cream?”

 Emile nodded, gently brushing through her hair.

 “I got ice cream at home but we can also buy some just for you if you don’t wanna depend on that.”

 The third in their group yipped out a happy sound of agreement.

 “We can ask Logan to sleep at a friend’s place or be there with us and wait until they sleep. They go to sleep super early anyway, that nerd.”

 The laying swan .. bunny.. uh... unicorn? Shrugged.

 “ ‘s kinda cute.. they care about school n all. They are so good. They are too good.”

 It sounded like a lament rather than a praise. There was so much pain in these words.

 “That sounds nice, bunny. Sounds like your sibling learned a lot of nice things from you. I am sure that must be a lot.”

 She took a deep breath.

 Remy gave a meaningful nod towards Emile who, in turn, licked faer lips.

 “I am proud of you but it is important to rest. Will you let us give you ice cream and take care of you?”

 For a moment, the only answer was the bright light coming from the moon. Pale white illuminated the meadow. The stars were shining as always but their light was so far away, it barely reached them. From them, it seemed as if they were not bright at all because the moon was reflecting the light so prettily, it overpowered them all.

 “Only if you get dumb with me and we do funny things?”

 Remy squeezed their hands together, his second joining the pile of fingers.

 “Of course. Now, text your baby sibling.”

 The smaller one pulled out his phone and sloppily pulled out a phone.

 “Jus do?”

 The three got together, packing up their things and obviously taking their things with them.

 “What is this?”

 Remy followed Emile’s finger pointing at a bag of trash. He shrugged in return.

 “We collected trash because Virgil really hates littering, you know?”

 The mentioned bean shook his head and shrugged.

 “Fuck pollution”, she defended herself as the taller one lead her to the car they shared, “see you in a bit?”

 Remy texted Logan with Virgil’s phone and sent an address to their chat with Emile.

 “Yo, I sent you the place we are going to drive to. You got that?”

 Fae shrugged.

 “I can literally just follow you guys like the little shadow I am. Just don’t drive like speeding dicks and I will be fine.”

 Remy nodded. Virgil mumbled in agreement and pushed the trashbag into the car’s trunk. It was his car after all. Remy did not have an own car yet. It was more of a shared thing.

 Together, they drove over to Virgil. On the way, Logan texted them how they would stay with a friend called Patton. Since Virgil knew Patton more than enough, she did not freak out but instead shrugged it off, told Remy and agreed under the condition of driving Logan there with the others.

Logan.. did not seem to mind.

Did they know Emile would join in?

 Whether they did, the three arrived.

Virgil already munched on the space brownies, happily nibbling at the dark chocolatey delight of deep, sweet-bitter taste.

It was an experience.

 At least there were no nuts in this.

Well... walnuts would probably be fine..

 The three got out, one by one. Virgil first and Emile last.

She patiently took faer and then his hand before leading them over to the small apartment complex with the many little doors. It was a humble little location, the flats looked like miniature versions of actual living spaces for human beings but it was just enough for the modest taste of the tired middle pal of the trio.

 He nudged the others towards the building and climbed the stairs.

 “The brownies are tasty, Em. You are a real baker genius or.. like, something like that.”

She blinked at the intense lights. One of the white lights was flickering every now and then and it was somewhat bothersome to the eye.

 “You ate them already?”

 A bit of surprise tinged Emile’s voice. Remy held back a laughter.

 “Yeah, Virgil is a thirsty and hungry hoe, no wonder he did that.”

 Something in his words screamed “get used to it”. Fae did not know what to feel about this but took it with the humour of a baby adult.

 “Not to take advantage of that but I don’t hate that.”

 Virgil giggled.

 “Shhhh, wait until Logan is gooohne,, They is a really clever baby sib thing, you know.”

 More chuckled filled the air and made the stairway echo in giggles and delight from the trio.

 They got up eventually, settling on the 7th level where Virgil unlocked apartment C and pushed the door open.

 “Yo, I am back! Don’t cook meth, the neighbours will get jealous.”

 He dropped the key in a little bowl on a shelf that leaned against the wall for support. The hallway welcomed the trio with faded colours and old, creaking wood planks as ground.

Emile blinked at the floor with a frown.

 “Do you want us to keep our shoes on?”

 Remy shook his head, his mouth opening to answer but a sound interrupted them.

A voice, more specifically.

 “Virgil, please refrain from making comments of such kind. It is highly unlikely for anyone around here to cook methane, let alone you or me.”

 A composed voice, stone-faced according to Emile’s feelings, replied to Virgil’s dismissive words and lazy greeting.

 The trash was still in Remy’s hands.

 “Fuck, I forgot this shit. You mind?”

 Logan appeared. Well, it had to be Logan unless Emile had missed about another person living with her - and Logan.

The sibling was younger than Virgil, their face more tan yet somewhat soft and void of the exhaustion the life of emerging adulthood had already put on Virgil’s dark eyes. Especially evident were how there were no bags under Logan’s eyes while Virgil seemed to have never slept in his entire life, perhaps.

 Maybe she did not sleep so everyone else could sleep? Like a sandman.

 Logan was dressed in something reminding Remy of a suit. It was this undershirt-kinda thing Emile identified as waist coat. It was dark and hugged their slender figure. Blue? It looked pretty much like rather dark blue. They seemed a bit taller than Virgil, around as tall as Remy, almost - not quite. Their shirt was white and looked so ironed out, Emile could not even find a single wrinkle.

They were not wearing shoes but only white socks and long black pants. The waistcoat had a single chain or metal leading to a little pocket.

 “Hello Remy, a pleasure to see you again. Do not worry about the bag. I will take it with me on the way down - “

 Virgil piped up.

 “WE! You are not going alone! It is dark and scary and I am your big shit and am telling you that you gotta hold my hand and be driven to your friend.”

 Logan rolled their eyes, dark orbs behind black frames seemingly shrinking in something like annoyance.

However, there was a fond smile on their lips despite it being small. It was still there and when Virgil approached the sibling for a good old hug, they received it and even returned it, even if it was not as passionate.

 Something warm pumped through Emile’s face and chest.

Seeing the two siblings cuddle made fae feel all giddy and comfortable.

 “Of course. I agreed to your conditions after all.”

 Only now Emile realised Logan was wearing a tie. They adjusted it despite it being in perfect position. Nothing was wrong with it..

It..

It had a pattern like constellations on it. Yes, clearly. Fae could see Leo right under their neck.

 “Hello, you must be Virgil’s new friend. I am Logan.”

 The, the small baby sibling was before faem, hand stretched out and dark eyes looking into faem as if it was a challenge to look serious and convincing.

It was more than effective, to be frank.

 “Yeah, I am Emile. Fae/faer, please. You use anything but they/them?” They nodded a bit, their facial features softening somewhat.

 “Thank you”

 The words came out like a whisper. Emile smiled.

 “Virgil, I am fucking adopting this kid, you have to marry me or some shit. This is now my bastard child!”

 A hysterical fit of giggles could be heard while Logan was silently rolling his eyes so hard, Remy swore they moved a bit out of his face’s centre.

Remy pouted audibly.

 “Ya get rights on my sibling, I don’t make the rules. Logan, you are loved by these dummies! It is the law, we are your personal protection squad!”

 Remy blew out some air but nodded.

 “Yeppers, we will do the illegal shit with you to keep you safe. We are gotta fake your a voting ID so you can change the world already.”

 The tallest of the pals sucked in a breath.

 “I know how to fake a voting ID! I made myself one, too! Hold on!”

 Logan turned towards the new person, this Emile guy. The sound of giggles was still around and surely coming closer.

 “Hey, hey, make sure to have it be a good fake. Can’t have the good kiddo fuck up a great lifeeee”, she argued, “They will be super fine because they are a great and lovely person. LOGAN I LOVE YOU!”

 They closed their eyes instead of rolling them. Their lips curled further into a more than evident smile and a small hint of pink tinted their pale cheeks.

 “I l-love you too, Virgil. Please calm down, it is quite alright. I am just me.”

 Virgil was back by now, a little box in his hands.

 “Shut up, be proud of yourself. You have amazing grades, super engagement in different projects and activities and you are a bright person with great competences. You are trying and working a lot to get this far and I am proud of you. You should be, too. I barely finished school with my shitty grades. It was mostly pity”

 Virgil blinked softly. Her hand gently brushed over their cheek and carefully patted its side. Emile and Remy moved out of the way to give the siblings some space. They obviously had a moment going on.

 “I don’t care what you make of yourself. I just want you to be happy and proud of what you do. We all know we were not born to be perfect and yet you are here and doing this.. this fucking badassery of ace-ing all ya exams and life shit and all.”

 She scooted closer.

 “I know Patton likes quiche I make, so I packed some for you two to share. I put money in, too. Get snacks and order something if you two need it, alright? I love you, kiddo. I really do.”

 He snuggled up to them and gave their pale cheeks a soft smooch. The elder sibling mumbled softly.

 “If you complain about the money, I will bite your nose. Just take it. Financial worries are mine, not yours.”

 Logan looked at Virgil, a shadow darkening their pale features. It was like a tree branch in the night, throwing a scary shadow into the room of a young and gullible child.

They abandoned the doubt and shook it off with a new sense of hardness in their eyes. It was sparkling determination.

 “Have fun with your friends, please. I want you to take care of yourself, too. You and I both know that a good social life helps your mental health which, in turn, positively affects your overall well-being.”

 Virgil blinked, happy beams radiating from her old orbs.

 “You are the best sibling I could have ever wished for, Lo.”

She cleared her throat, wiping over her wet eyes.

“Time to fucking get ya to you friend! Ree will drive you and I will have ice-cream like a real champ!”

 “REEEE, EEEEEM! Let us gOOOO!”

 The middle man came back in, Emile right on his ass.

 “You finished your drama? You won’t stab us if we come back in?”

 Virgil giggled under the scolding look from his sibling. She shrugged dismissively.

 “I am ready to go. I will wait in the car.”

 They got pushed the little container into their backpack and put it over their shoulders before grabbing the trash and retrieving the keys from his sibling.

 “Nuu, you are a baby and we gotta go with you. Reeeemileeey~ Come with me~”

 The two got ready and joined as requested.

 “DId you fuse our names?!”

 There was an unusual amount of excitement in Emile’s voice. Not that they were not usually excited and happy but this was on a whole new level. There was a sense of knowledge and expectation in faer tone of voice.

It was difficult for Virgil to put her finger on it, considering she started feeling a bit more of an effect from the edibles she had consumed. Remy noted the excitement with his own piece of interest.

 “I fuuuused your names and they fit together sooo well!”

 As Virgil giggled, Emile’s eyes seemed to double in size, more so the black pools in the middle of these wild orbs.

Remy blinked at this change, his own curiosity swinging into the direction of excitement as well.

 He wanted to know about the things that got Emile to bounce on faer feet like the most adorable danger stick in the whole history of humankind.

Something glowed in these mysterious eyes and Remy wanted to know more about it.

 Well, for know it was time to take responsibility and drive them all to Patton.

He still wanted to know about it, so he took a chance when they had arrived and the three remained in the car alone, Virgil cuddled up to Emile and holding hands with glowing cheeks and a free heart.

Logan waved goodbye one last time and disappeared into the warm home of a loving family. A whole family.

 “Em, what is so exciting about fusions? Do you like those kinda things?”

 For a moment, his mind wandered as he tapped his foot down onto the pedals and started driving again in first gear before shifting higher.

He did not have the opportunity to glance into the rear-view mirror and see their face light up like a burning candle. Certainly, if he knew about how much he had missed, he would have cursed his own care about safe driving.

 “I L-O-V-E fusions!”

 A giggled followed faer sudden spray of words. The excitement pitched their voice into a higher vocal range.

Unexpected but lovely in a way it made Remy’s heart throb with just as much energy as Emile offered him. He let himself giggle a bit while Virgil was nothing but a puddle of chuckles and snickers. The half-naked pal hugged Emile close, seemingly absorbing their enthusiasm.

 “Why do you like fusions so much, lovely?”

 Remy licked his lips, tasting the delicious energy in the air. He relished in just a quick glance into the rear-view mirror in which he saw Virgil and Emile bonking the sides of their heads together, the latter bouncing a bit in faer seat.

 His heart was blooming.

These two were the summer of his life.

 “Th.-they !! Do y-you know of-of S-Steve Un-Univ-verse?”

 Their hands were everywhere, Remy noticed. Virgil put himself on high-five duty whenever these hands moved places and suddenly appeared next to him or in front of his nose or behind Remy’s head.

To her, it was as if these hands appeared out of nowhere while Emile fawned his happy juices into every direction of this car.

 Remy readily took in everything he could with a smile on his lips and promises in his chest. Sadly, he still had to shake his head but he prompted them.

 “Enlighten us, would you?”

 Fae continued, hands still moving in a somewhat erratic manner.

 “S-So in - I .. I mean, y-you know”, they started, then stopped, then started again just to take a short pause.

Faer face fell into a statute-like aesthetic as fae deliberated what to say. The happy glows in their orbs were forever-persistent.

 “Mw, Em.. Emiiiiile”, Virgil cooed softly, patting their hair, “You are wonderful.. your.. y... sEt.. pf.. ph-... STEVEN is your FRIEND and really wonderpoof too.”

 She nodded, a sense of importance surrounding her. It gave her an expression of wisdom and some sort of... safe space. There was acceptance in his features.

Even when he mispronounced and misunderstood everything going on.

Virgil eagerly patted Emile’s poofy hair while nodding more, her happy curls jumping up and down the sides of her face like excited monkeys.

 “So-sO! Steven is-is a human a-and he is part of the-the cry-c..c-crystal gems who are basically alien stones with magic. Oh, and they have weird adventures t-t-together and ev-everything is soft and ni-nice!”

 Fae bounced in the back seat and Virgil enthusiastically moved along without even having a single clue of what was happening at the moment.

They clapped and she mimicked the movements with confused nods and delayed yaps.

 “Magic Stpehen.. ph..phatven...”

 Virgil looked at his hands, confusion spinning in their lost eyes. Maybe staring into her fingers could answer her the question of how it came that “Steven” was so difficult to pronounce.

They did not, if you wondered, too.

 Emile smiled, gently brushing through his hair.

The most gentle of all smiles adorned their face as they soothed Virgil ever so patiently. The flapping piece of oversized jacket and mad boxers eventually nestled in faer lap and hugged these legs calmly. Every now and then, Emile would receive a loving pat to their skin because Virgil forgot what they felt like. Or because she was curious about what skin did when being touched and moved and shoved or patted.

 They patiently stroked his hair further while Remy had a hard time keeping his gay together and himself focused.

Luckily, they arrived and got back up, Virgil insistently patting and hugging every door, pole and wall they did not pull him away from.

 She was a really excited person in this state.

 When they got into the apartment, Remy lead them to the couch, considering Virgil was a bit less in the position to know where anything or anyone was.

They snuggled up again, this time Virgil was in the middle and fidgeting with a magic cube.. rubrix.. thingy.. hihi, it felt funny!

 “Remy, loook!”

 She pushed the cube into his hands and hugged Emile close.

 “Magical cube”, Virgil explained, voice mimicking the tone of a captivating conspiracy video.

 “Very magical, cube”, fae agreed.

 Remy nodded.

 “Magical like these rad fucking shits you made. We are gonna see more than stars, we will see an entire galaxy!”

 His words were purring in amusement.

 Virgil lazily blinked at Remy, then slowly turned to Emile and just.. dropped their head to the side, completely overdoing the “tilting your head” business.

 “Sooo.. are we.. a fusion?”

 A clank could be heard and suddenly, Virgil whined and hugged the two close.

 “The magical cube disappeared! I...m-..magic!”

His voice dropped into the sounds of scary camp fire horror stories once more.

“...m a g i c.”

 The tallest of the three pushed another biscuit to Remy who gladly consumed the sweet, spacey treat.

 “You are magic, you two fusers”, Emile purred back in reply and gently snuggled back, carefully pecking Virgil. This time, a whine arouse from Remy’s throat.

Emile shook faer head, a wild grin decorating this precious face.

 Was that a little scar on their cheekbone? Oh, those cheekbones...

 Remy got so lost in Emile’s pretty face, he barely noticed it coming close, Emile’s eyes closing sensually, slowly...

Then, their lips brushed against one another. Lonely mouth and alluring goal meeting and pressing together, closing around one another like embracing lovers after a long period of distancing.

 “waHOOOO, G A Y!!”

 Virgil cheered for them, leaving the youngest of the three to pull away from Remy, skin like cherry blossoms in the heat of spring.

Fae simply let him, innocently commenting with nothing but a whipping of faer eyelashes towards the shy one.

 “Is that new for you, Virgil?”

 The playful breeze of something like a rivalry returned, nestling between the moody couple of different extremes. The trio’s shortest and longest member looked at each other, a special dynamic reigning between them and drawing them closer.

 “New that he gets the kisses first”, Virgil answered in unabashed honesty.

 Instead of hiding behind witty remarks and sarcastic or snarky comments, she off-handedly pronounced the issue and pulled Emile in, gently pulling at the leather collar of this damn self-improved jacket.

It was surprisingly soft, compared to last time, at least.

 Their lips were raspberries squeezing together ever so slightly, merely touching more than for a fleeting moment.

 Virgil was the one to pull away.

It was Emile’s turn to be flustered at this moment. Fae slowly backed up, settling into faer space on the couch and taking another one of the beaked treats. They nibbled on them, hiding their face while Virgil pushed her legs onto faer lap and rested her head on Remy’s happy thighs. His skirt was rolled up a little so he got to feel his hair.

 “You two taste so sweet...”

 Remy shrugged, face still ablaze without his knowledge. He suspected it, though.

 “Hey, Em. You going to college when the holidays are over?”

 The taller one took the moment to appreciate Remy’s timing and tasteful change of topics while Virgil delightfully brushed over his exposed stomach in mild interest.

 “I am just here for a summer job, I guess I told you guys”, fae mumbled softly as faer fingers moved to catch up to Virgil’s tracing fingerpads.

“After that I am going to Yban University further up the north. What about you guys?”

 Virgil was chuckling and squirming when Emile started stroking his exposed skin.

He was ticklish, Remy remembered fondly.

 “Virgil is gonna go up there too, but for working. So you can hang out with Logan if you want to!”

 Remy winked and Emile stuck out their tongue at him.

 “Don’t fuck the baby sibling.”

 The small anger dwarf flailed and gasped.

 “Nu, fuck me instead!”

 Emile fucking starting to cough up during a weird mix of laughing and choking on his own mind and his partners’ words.

 “Not na- now!”, fae gasped out, wiggling a bit but staying in place, more or less.

 “Man”, Remy started, softly offering his hand for Emile to hold while his other was still carding through Virgil’s hair, “I will go up and study. It is surreal.”

 He blinked.

 “Holy fuckening, we are going to the same spot! I will move in with Virgil, like, fucking literally. As soon as I get my acceptance email and letter.. I .. I am.. gonna.. I will fuck your landlord.”

 Emile was playing with their hair while stroking over these exposed legs.

 “You two.. wanna hang out if we all end up in the same spot? That would be cool.”

 Remy patted the spot close to him and gestured towards Emile, then back to the spot as he started to lay down. They got the message and followed suit.

Together, the three cuddled up, now laying and still high off their butts.

 “It is perfect”, Em yawned, gently kissing the back of Remy’s hand.

 Virgil nodded softly and pushed her nose against the other two pals’ noses.

 “If you guys are with me, I can do all. I will get all done. I can do it.”

 At least he tried saying that. His words came out as a jumble of weird sounds.

Laughter erupted and Virgil snuggled up, eyes closed and gently smooching the two before drifting off to sleep while the others whisper-screamed whatever thing seemed absolutely hilarious at the moment.

 If they would stay together, she knew they would all be fine. They would all make it.

 He was certain of it.

[skywalkerbc]

Mads’ massive bellarke rec (pt.1)

So I’ve been asked a couple times to make a bellarke fanfiction rec list so here it is! (Okay so I realised that I had way too many bc our fandom is filled with so many talented authors so even though this is actually massive, there will be several parts)

(Also- I don’t know everyone’s tumblrs so if you know any of these author’s tumblr accounts, please lmk so I can link them properly!)

In no particular order, here are some of my all time fav blarke fics:

~

MODERN-VERSE AUS

I dreamed you a sin (and a lie) by monroeslittle

“If I do this,” Blake said, “how are you imagining it’s going to work? I can’t just knock on his door, and say I want in again. It’s been eleven years. And even before I left, I never cared about the business. Do you have a plan? You say you want me to open the door for an agent. How? What’s that mean?”

“You’re going to get in touch with your grandfather again at your wedding,” Clarke said.

He stared.

“I hope you don’t have a girlfriend, Mr. Blake.”

fake!married AU. Clarke's in the FBI, Bellamy's the grandson of a mobster, and they've got to work together.

~

Lines in the Sand by @fen-ha-fuck-you

“You looked like you were gonna hurl when you got up,” Raven said, pausing for a moment. “I’m not sure this is better.”

Clarke shook her head minutely, finally looking up at herself in the mirror. She quickly wiped away the tears that had fallen. She hadn’t even noticed. “I’m fine.”

“No,” Raven replied, her eyebrows scrunching together. “You’re not.”

“I just… had a little too much to drink. That’s all.”

“That why you’re strangling that poor sink?”

~

i’m not asking much of you by emmylou

When Clarke gets invited to her ex's wedding- her CHEATING ex's wedding- she knows she can't go alone. She's not dating anyone, so she has to find a boyfriend, real or fake, fast. Luckily, Octavia knows just the guy.

~

I’d Promise You Everything (But I’m Not Sure How Much Good There Is In That) by @talistheintrovert

Bellamy has never been a huge fan of Valentine's Day, but Clarke outright hates it. Her father died at the start of February when she was in high school, she found out her first boyfriend was cheating on her two weeks later, and then almost exactly a year after that, her girlfriend dumped her to travel around Asia.

But now they're in their 20s and Bellamy finally admitted that he loved her a few months ago. He knows this is the real thing and he absolutely knows that she feels the same way, but he also knows how miserable Clarke gets around Valentine's, and he's determined to cheer her up this time.

~

hold me in your beating heart by amberwoods

He’d got out of bed and walked to the nursery to console his youngest child. When he’d been shushing and cradling her for about twenty minutes, he noticed a silhouette hovering in the door opening. Clarke.

“I’ve got her,” he’d said softly, his voice rough with sleep, “Go back to bed.”

She just stood there. When he took a closer look, he noticed she had a strange expression on her face. She was looking at Madi.

“Clarke?” he asked carefully.

~

And There’s a Hand My Trusty Friend by Who_Needs_Reality

He sighs dramatically. “Can’t believe you’re not gonna let me kiss you until next year.” That sends a sudden, sharp jolt of sadness through Clarke, the realisation that they’re going to be spending another day spent pretending that she’s not his; it means ushering in their first year together… by, well, not being together.

Or, {NYE fluff where Bellamy and Clarke are together, but since they're keeping it a secret from their friends, they run into an unforeseen complication.}

~

A Little Bit of Something (God, It’s Better Than Nothing) by @grumpybell

“-Clarke.” He sounds alarmed, suddenly, none of the casual, arrogant, amusement that had been in his voice moments before. “What?” “Why is your mom calling me?” “Shit. Don't answer that. Listen, okay. She and I kind of got into an argument today-” “-what else is new?” “Shut up. Anyway, she told me she's getting married and there was just so much subtext about my failure at relationships and my lack of love life, and I might have told her I'm engaged too.” There's silence on the other end of the phone. “To you,” Clarke prompts.

~

I Don’t Need Your Love (I Just Need You Now) by @talistheintrovert

“What was the worst part?” Raven asked.

“Probably when he shoved me against a wall and stuck his tongue down my throat,” Clarke admitted, sipping her hot chocolate, which she quickly realised was spiked with rum. God, her friends were perfect.

Octavia and Raven both gasped, but it was Bellamy’s reaction that she found the most interesting. He didn’t say anything, didn’t look up from his book, or even alter his expression, but his hand balled into a fist on the arm of his chair.

OR: The AU where Clarke and Bellamy hate each other until Bellamy realises she's being mistreated, and does his best to protect her.

~

Come Close (And Then Even Closer) by sheryl_sems

Clarke thinks about Octavia and how her best friend had stormed out of the house earlier that day, furious at Clarke for taking her brother's side in their argument. She thinks about Raven, and Monty, and Jasper, and Wells, and Lincoln but in the end, she really only wants one person by her side and it's fruitless to fight herself on this one.

"Could you call Bellamy?" She finally says in a soft, hoarse whisper.

Or the one where Clarke is attacked and the only person she wants by her side in the aftermath is Bellamy Blake.

~

You Look Like a Movie. You Sound Like a Song. by lordmxrphy

She knows shouldn’t care. She and Bellamy were never together. They never dated. But for as long as Clarke can remember, Bellamy’s held her heart. Even if he’ll never know it.

(a modern au inspired by when we were young by adele)

~

What We Do to Each Other by marauders_groupie

A Bellarke AU in which Bellamy and Clarke are childhood best friends, separated by life and trying to relearn each other again.

~

A Symbol of Goodwill And Love by LayALioness

“So when you said we need a good tree, you meant,” he hedges, and she huffs, little clouds of steam escaping her mouth.

“One that needs a good home,” she says, like it’s obvious. “Shopping for a Christmas tree is like going to the pound—you don’t look for a purebred at the pound, Bellamy. You look for the puppy with a missing eye, or mange. One that needs us.”

“If this is code for wanting us to get a puppy,” Bellamy muses, reaching out to tug on the tassels of her hat. “I think we should probably live together, first.”

~

We Have to Stop Meeting Like This by @goldenheadfreckledheart

Tumblr prompt: “We both have friends who party too hard and we keep running into each other in the bathroom while we hold their hair back.”

Aka, the three times Bellamy and Clarke meet each other while taking care of their friends + the one time they don’t.

~

Christmas Sweaters by lightyears

Clarke's upset that she won't fit into her Christmas sweater this year. Bellamy surprises her with a new one.

~

Ladylike by Who_Needs_Reality

Bellamy stares at her. "You want me to make out with you. Platonically."

Clarke very resolutely does not panic. "Do it for the views, Bellamy."

(Or, an AU in which Clarke works for a Buzzfeed-esque company, and has to kiss someone in order to test lipstick durability for a new video. Feelings and decidedly non-platonic nonsense ensue.)

~

Love Is Not a Victory March by @asroarke

“You could have been here four years ago,” she reminded, raising her eyebrows at him.

“No, I couldn’t have. I needed to be here with you,” he replied, and Clarke felt like the breath had been knocked out of her. It wasn’t the first time he said something like that, of course. But it caught her off guard every damn time.

“Was it worth the wait?”

“Yes, you were,” he replied, and how could Clarke not kiss him after that?

Olympics AU where a knee injury kept Bellamy and Clarke from making it to the Olympics... the first time around.

~

the tie that binds me to you by glowinghorizons

“we’ve been pen pals for like hella months and we finally decided to meet up and damn you’re cute, also did you break up with your jerk bf/gf yet?” au

or:

bellamy and clarke finally meet after months and months of hand-written letters, phone calls and text messages.

~

you bring me honeysuckle by caramelle

It suddenly strikes Bellamy, one day, that his girlfriend is in possession of what has to be the best hair in the entire cosmos.

Or, the one where Bellamy's fixation with Clarke's hair is totally normal and healthy.

~

Walk With Me by arysa13

Bellamy is pretty sure you aren't supposed to hit on the people you're supposed to be getting home safely, but he kind of wants to anyway.

Prompt: Bellamy works at safe walk and Clarke keeps falling asleep studying. And is the last one to leave the library every night!

~

Sugar, Spice, and All Things Nice by Who_Needs_Reality

Clarke just really wants a peppermint mocha. Breaking into the apartment of her ex, with whom she may-or-may-not still kind of be madly in love, is an unplanned side effect. Mostly.

Based on the prompt "listen i know i can’t just show up at your apartment at six in the morning but i need coffee and no one makes it like you do”

~

time flies but you’re the pilot by @onemanbellarmy

“Wait a minute, your new art teacher is Clarke Griffin?”

Gus paused to consider. “I think so?”

A huff of a surprised laugh escaped Bellamy. He hadn’t talked to Clarke since college.

(or, single parent x child's teacher AU)

~

the girl next door by funfanfin

The first time he hears her, he’s making his grandmother’s afritada recipe, a dish that reminds him of long, lazy, hot summers in the Philippines.

The first time he learns her name is on a Tuesday so ordinary and average he wouldn’t have remembered it otherwise.

The first time he realizes he loves her is during the early hours of a cool morning, with her curled into his side.

-OR-Bellamy hears singing from the apartment next door. It isn't long before he meets the girl behind the smoky, haunted voice, and it isn't long before he learns the reasons for her sorrow-filled singing.

~

only fools rush in by @chants-de-lune

based on the tumblr prompt:

"just drove a guy home from a bar and for the whole 15 minutes he talked about how excited he was to see his wife"

~

the fuzziest of woodland creatures by tempestaurora

“it’s 2 in the morning and i was just trying to get home but i left my sunroof open all day and now there’s a squirrel in my car and it scared me and i drove into a pole – would you please stop laughing you’re a cop. you’re supposed to be helping”

~

Settling Debts by indygoh

"Um. Thank you. You didn't have to," she peeked up at him, suddenly shy for some reason. "I can pay you back."

Bellamy just chuckled, already shaking his head before she could finish her sentence.

"I've got a little sister. She probably would have kicked my ass if she found out I didn't do something to help you out back there."

Clarke raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Do you always rescue strange girls in desperate need of tampons?"

"Only the really cute ones with crowns on their butts."

~

when love hits (better make it worth the fall) by kay_emm_gee

Summary: Four times Clarke gets hit on the head (+1 time she doesn't) during her last semester of high school, and every single time, Bellamy Blake is somehow involved.

~

Turn the tide on my losing side by Lalalli

Clarke doesn’t know why Thelonius Jaha keeps posting really random shit to her Facebook wall, but whatever. It’s fine. It was weird at first, but she’s used to it now.

And then Bellamy gets involved and it gets weird again.

~

My Soft Place to Land by Who_Needs_Reality

Bellamy's happy to be back. He's even happier to see who's waiting for him.

{Or, soldier!Bellamy comes back home after being deployed and meets someone special}

~

We Keep it a Secret (You Leave Me Dying to Know) by @ringsabellamy

Bellamy doesn’t claim to be the greatest at dating, especially considering he’s been quietly in love with his best friend for the past six years, but hey, at least he’s been /trying/ to get over her. Not, of course, that this current situation is helping.

Or: Bellamy just asked Clarke to fake being his girlfriend for one date, honest. But then things got a little...out of hand.

~

If You Like Your Coffee Hot by marauders_groupie

They haven't been friends for a very long time but Bellamy still can't ignore Clarke acting out and getting into fights when she was a model student just a few months ago. They might’ve kept each other at distance for years but she is still his first best friend.

~

Calm my tears, Kill these fears by @goldenheadfreckledheart

Prompt: I somehow always get you as a cashier at Walmart and it's always when I’m buying the weirdest shit at the weirdest time. “A head of lettuce at 3am?” "It's a long story”

~

bit of a disaster, aren’t we? by katsumi

Clarke breaks her ankle and really would prefer that Bellamy not find out about it. She has a feeling he's going to get mad. (She's right.)

~~~

CANON-VERSE AUS

Meet Me in the Morning by monroeslittle

“I guess one of us is messed up,” he said, “and it’s part of our hallucination that the other is, too.” He paused. “Seems appropriately hellish that my mind sticks me with you.”

She pursed her lips. “Likewise.”

AU. Clarke is trapped in a stupid time loop, and guess who's trapped with her?

~

I Miss Our Little Talks by @chants-de-lune

“Wow,” she breathed out. “I thought that one would have done me in.”

Bellamy didn’t smile, shaking his head and taking the slightest edge of coldness off his glare.

“You took a bullet for me.” he said through gritted teeth. “Don’t ever do that again.”

~

Today is Dying by theprincessandtheking

“Look, sorry, but it’s an emergency,” Harper said, eyes firmly fixed on the wall ahead of her.

The tea he’d downed at the bar was still in his system, as evidenced by the way the room spun when he reached for his shirt a few feet away and struggled to pull it over his head.

“So much of an emergency that you couldn’t knock?”

“It’s Clarke.”

~

That I Will Never Escape by @talistheintrovert

“Execute me; I poisoned you. Let Clarke live."

“Very well,” Octavia raised a hand and a soldier with a gun pointed it down at him. He steeled himself for the bullet that would end his life, but before it left the chamber, Clarke yelled out.

“No!”

He jumped, surprised, when she moved suddenly, and he registered in his periphery as she snatched the sword from the floor and spun it in her hand deftly.

“Clarke, what are you doing?” Bellamy frowned, his gaze switching to her, but a part of him already knew. His body was reacting to it before his brain could catch up – he felt his breath catch in his throat, and his heart-rate speed up.

~

we were nothing more than stardust by cresswell

"I'm going to kill that bastard," he says quietly, bent close to Clarke's ear. "He's not going to touch you again, and I'm going to kill him."

Her pinkie finger extends, brushing the waistband of his jeans, and he carefully pushes their palms together, lacing their fingers. He thinks she smiles in her sleep.

~

Love is Not a Whisper (or a weakness) by monroeslittle

"There was a strange, muffled snap, and the tentacle around her middle was retracted. The hold on her ankle was gone, and Bellamy was pulling her up through the water. She began to pump her arms, and they broke the surface; she gasped, and coughed.

He pressed a gun into her hand. “If you see a ripple, shoot,” he ordered."

AU. The dropship doesn't land on land. The next seven years are a little bit different.

~

Astraphobia by @chants-de-lune

The fear of thunder and lightning. In other words, rainy day cuddling with a bit of angst.

~

Trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat by islabbe

There was blood everywhere; some of it red, but most of it was black. Bellamy wrinkled his nose at the metallic smell as it filled his nose. Pushing down the reflex to gag, he quickly made his way over to the tent.

“Clarke, stay with me,” he said gruffly, his voice straining as bent down to enter hers and Madi’s tent. She was drifting in and out of consciousness and Bellamy knew the longer he dawdled, the less time she had.

~

We Can’t Leave Us Behind by @ringsabellamy

"I don’t blame you for that, not anymore. I understand why you had to leave. But it still hurt, Clarke. And I guess...I think your goodbye reminds me of how I felt. Of what it was like to lose you.”

“The kiss,” she says, eyes full of sudden realization. “You think when I kiss you, it means I’m going to leave you.”

Or: Bellamy has a lot of healing to do, one try at a time.

~

Set The Dark On Fire by @talistheintrovert​

Clarke isn't coping well with peacetime on the Eligius ship, and while Bellamy has woken some of the others (mainly spacekru) and tries to organise a trip to the ground, making decisions and considering all the variables, Clarke makes a choice of her own:

She'll take herself out of the equation.

OR: the post season 5 idea I had to write because all of the unresolved emotional turmoil this season is actually killing me and someone needs to notice that Clarke is in pain, for the love of god.

~ 

for everything unsaid (there is a flourish of my pride) by theprincessandtheking

“I don’t know,” he says. “I guess I just didn’t really care either way anymore.”

She pauses, and from the corner of his eye he can see the odd expression on her face.

“So in the middle of wartime, when everything is going to hell around us, shaving is still a priority. But you spend six years with all the free time in the world for it, and suddenly you don’t care?”

He tries to smile at the joke, but he thinks it comes out as more of a grimace.

“I guess down here it was more of a sense of normalcy,” he explains. “But with you gone—”

He pauses, clears his throat in an attempt to keep his voice steady.

“Without you there, nothing really felt normal.”

~

I can never be alone when all gods keep calling me out by angel_deux

Raven fixes the radio after a few years, and Clarke can talk to them again.

~

they will see my strength (in this love i’ve found) by glowinghorizons 

“If you’re married they won’t let you go alone.”

The silence is deafening. Bellamy braces himself for the slap he knows is going to come his way any second, but it never happens.

“You--” she sounds breathless. “You don’t even know me.”

Bellamy shrugs. “Look. I-- this is crazy. I know. I just know that I can’t let my sister go to the ground without me.”

OR, Clarke finds out she's being sent to the Ground only days after her Dad dies. Bellamy is determined to go to the Ground with his sister. They need to fool everyone to make it work.

~

Like a Second Heart by Who_Needs_Reality

She’s hardly surprised, the first few times it happens. The hallucinations are vivid, but not long, not much, just short, staccato bursts of him, tiny pieces to keep her going -- his hand extended out to her to help her up from the rubble, his voice a soothing murmur in her ear telling her she’ll be alright until she finds water… of course she sees him, of course she hears him. It’s Bellamy -- who else would her mind conjure up to help her survive? There are worse symptoms praimfaya has left her with than a few too-real imaginings of her best friend after all.

{Clarke's not worried when she starts to hallucinate Bellamy. It's only when the dreams continue to haunt her even after the real Bellamy comes back that she's concerned}

~

We Sure Know How to Run by winterwaters

While attempting to get Jaha farther from the AI and the nuclear warhead, Clarke, Murphy and Emori run into trouble from another tribe and Clarke is injured. Bellamy and his group happen to be following that tribe and help take care of her. On the way home, she confronts her feelings for Bellamy - with a bit of help from Emori.

~

darling, just hold my hand by killianslonghaul

“I know you don’t like public displays of affection, but… you’re really not going to kiss me goodbye?”

or

Bellamy doesn't really do PDA, but he might make an exception.

~

baby on board by katebishop 

As a soon-to-be father, Bellamy thinks he's feeling the appropriate amount of worry and concern for his pregnant wife.

Clarke thinks he's utterly ridiculous.

~~~

Other AUS

Forbidden Words by onceuponahundred 

we’re in between classes, and we both hear a fourth year calling a first year a mudblood, and neither of us are having any of that prejudiced bullshit. unfortunately, my impulse was to hex them, and yours was to punch them in the face, and my jelly-legs curse hit you instead, i’m really sorry, and we both are probably getting detention now, but hey, plus side, you’re kind of cute

{Bellarke in Harry Potter}

~

Name One Hero Who Was Happy by Who_Needs_Reality

Clarke huffs again, and he glances at her.

“The Curse of Achilles, Bellamy? Do you know how risky that was?”

“I got the idea when I felt my soul being torn from my body.”

She sniffs, imperious. “How did you do it?”

“Huh?” Her voice is smaller when she speaks again. “How did you...not get your soul...y’know?”

“Oh,” he swallows. “I had some help.”

{Bellarke in a Percy Jackson/The Last Olympian AU}

~

Don’t Think I Want What I Used to Want by arysa13 

Bellamy has a compass that points to what his heart most desires, which, as a pirate, must be treasure, obviously.

~

can’t control my feelings, can’t control my thoughts by katsumi

When Jasper accidentally gifts Clarke a love potion, everyone she interacts with starts acting...weird. Everyone, that is, except Bellamy. [Hogwarts AU]

~~~

[let-it-raines]

Second in Command (35/35)

Summary: Life as the “spare to the heir” isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be when you’re the supposed screw-up of the family, but people don’t know what really happens behind closed doors. 

Rating: Mature

A/N: I have apparently written over 300,000 words of this story and its sequel (and I’m not saying I won’t write some one shots in the future if inspiration strikes), but I don’t even have the words to thank you guys right now. This story started because I was bored and needed something to do, and I’ve loved writing and learning how to craft words and stories more easily and with better quality over the past few months. You guys are the best, and I thank you for every click, kudos, comment, and reblog! I’ve seen and appreciated every single one!

But seriously. Thank you for liking this insane story. I can’t believe so many of you have stuck with it and gone through all of the highs and lows of the emotions of it with me. It’s been a pleasure ❤️

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 

Sequel: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Tag list: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @kmomof4 @wellhellotragic @ekr032-blog-blog @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @kristi555 @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @artistic-writer @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma @alys07 @andiirivera @emmas-storybook @superchocovian @in-spirational  @cs-forlife @qualitycoffeethings @shireness-says @jonirobinson64 

“Do you have any idea what’s going on here?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” Emma admits, straightening out her dress and crossing her legs at her ankles while the wet grass touches her skin. “I’ve never really learned what goes into playing polo, but you’re British. Shouldn’t you know how this works?”

“First of all, my dear,” Ruby huffs while she scrolls through her phone, large white cat-eyed sunglasses perched on her nose with her hair falling down her back, “you are also British now. I don’t know if you’re ever going to remember that. But yeah, I was not at all into all of this uppity stuff until you started dating someone who was, which incidentally caused me to marry an uppity man.” “Woah, woah, woah. Are you seriously complaining about meeting Graham because of me?”

“Eh,” she laughs, leaning back onto a rolled-up towel with her hands resting behind her back, “maybe. He was being annoying this morning because he couldn’t find the right boots, and I was ready to just burn all of his boots.” Emma lets out a low whistle, one that travels in the slight breeze and down the small hill so that both Andy and Sutton turn their heads from where they’re playing to look at her. They don’t look for long, though, the ball they have far more interesting even if poor Sutton can’t keep up with the older kids. She’s trying, though. She’s going to have grass stains all over her dress, but it’s fine. She’s seventeen months old. Grass stains are the least of her worries.

She doesn’t really have worries as long as someone is entertaining her, and honestly, Sutton is attached at her hip. All she has to do is talk about everything she’s doing, and her girl is as happy as can be. It’s only annoying when she’s brushing her teeth.

“So he was really annoying?”

“The most annoying. I would say sometimes I miss living in my old flat with Granny, but, you know, Graham has a few more perks than her. And he’s not always so obnoxious over his riding boots.”

“Killian has this thing with shoes,” she begins, picking at her nails before twisting her wedding band on her finger, a habit that she can never quite stop, but it’s likely because Killian likes to play with her rings when they’re sitting together. “In our closet, he has all of his lined up on this small little shelf, and then on my side I have that wall of them, you know?”

“Trust me, I know. All of the nice clothes you have are totally wasted on you.”

“I let you borrow them,” she sighs, glancing over at Ruby for a moment before looking down to make sure she can still see the kids. She should probably watch a bit of the match, but she can just fake it later. That’s what she usually does when she has no idea what’s going on. “But anyways, Killian is always fixing them. If I leave my shoes in the entryway or the bedroom, he picks them up and puts them up, and sometimes he gets so pissed over it. I can’t tell you how many arguments we get into that start off with me leaving my tennis shoes just inside the door.”

“Does he do that with the kids too?

She shrugs and looks back to Ruby before sliding her own sunglasses down over her eyes, her hair getting stuck in them for a moment. “Andy is supposed to put all of his things up, but Killian’s not about to pick a fight with a four-year-old over leaving his shoes somewhere. It’s much more fun to fight with me.”

“That’s because making up with you is more fun,” Ruby teases, reaching over and squeezing Emma’s wrist. “Our husbands are so damn weird.”

“Well, we do weird shit too, but yeah, that’s very true.”

“Mummy,” Sutton whines, running up the hill as fast as she can with crocodile tears running down her cheeks.

“Baby,” Emma sighs, getting up from the ground and walking down to Sutton, scooping her up off the ground and wiping her tears away while she scans her face for any obvious injuries. She obviously missed something when she was talking to Ruby. “What happened?”

“I fell,” she sobs, the tears still coming even if Emma is sure that she’s not hurt, that it’s still the shock and the dramatics of it all.

“Oh, it’s okay,” she soothes, letting Sutton wrap her arms around her neck and snuggle into her shoulder. “It’s okay. Do you want to come sit with Mommy and Aunt Ruby?” Sutton nods her head up and down while Emma continues to rub her back. “Andy,” she calls, and when he doesn’t turn around, she calls him again. “Andrew Killian.” That gets him to turn around, his head snapping toward and his hair whipping with it. He needs a haircut, especially if they’re going to spend so much time outside this spring and summer. He gets sweat and dirt everywhere. “Andy, why don’t you come up here and sit with Mommy and Ruby, okay?”

“But I’m playing.”

“But I asked you to come sit with me.”

“Mummy.”

Sometimes it’s cute when he thinks that he can out argue her, especially since he’s still so small, but other times she knows that they’re about to go down kicking and screaming if she lets the emotions build up. Kids are kind of like dynamite, except half the time you don’t know when the fuse is about to burn up and explode. It surprises you out of the blue and you’re the one who’s left kicking and screaming.

“Andy, please listen to me. I need to put more sunscreen on your nose so you don’t turn all red like a tomato.”

“I don’t want to be a tomato,” he screeches, running up the hill so quickly that he catches up to her as she slowly makes her way back up, Sutton like dead weight in her arms.

“Why are you so scared of tomatoes?” Ruby laughs, catching Andy when he gets up to their spot and settling him down on her lap. “I love tomatoes. They’re red like rubies, and, well, you know, my name is Ruby.”

“Tomatoes are gross,” he whines, his eyes scrunching up as he sticks out his tongue. “Daddy makes me eat them.”

“Daddy does not,” Emma laughs, settling back down on the blanket and putting Sutton on her thighs while she rummages through her bag, first pulling out a bag of fruit and handing it to Andy before she gets the lotion. “Daddy lets you eat other vegetables so you can grow bigger.”

“Like Papa and Daddy and Grandpa.”

“Or your mummy and me,” Ruby laughs, tickling Andy’s stomach while he lights up with joy, his eyes scrunching together again, this time in a much more pleasant way. God, he looks so much like Killian sometimes that it kills her. She thought Sutton was going to be her twin for a little while, but her blonde curls have definitely turned a bit more brown. Or maybe it’s a dirty blonde. It changes depending on the light. She’s got these green eyes, though, and they’re so beautiful. Andy is always saying they’re like a cat. She’s not even sure he’s ever seen a cat in person, but he knows that they have green eyes.

“Mummy isn’t as tall as Daddy.”

“He makes a good point, Rubes. It’s probably because I didn’t eat tomatoes.”

Andy groans again, tilting his head back while he pops an apple slice in his mouth.

“I want,” Sutton sighs, her lips no longer quivering as she points to Andy’s bag of fruit.

Andy digs in the bag until he finds another apple slice, handing it over to Sutton who pops half of it in her mouth before pulling it out like she’s just remembered how to chew.

“What do you tell your brother, Sutton?”

“Thank you,” Sutton whispers, the words coming out more like “tank you” and Emma’s heart flutters a little bit. Listening to kids mispronounce words is definitely one of the great wonders of the world…if you’re into things like that. If you hate kids, it’s probably not quite as cute.

“You’re welcome. I gave you a red one because you don’t like the green.”

“That’s so sweet, Andy,” she smiles reaching over and pushing his hair off of his forehead. “Now let me put this lotion on you, and then you can go back to playing with your friends, okay?”

“Okay. ‘Cause I don’t want to be a tomato.”

When the match is over, Killian and Graham come walking over to them, their gaits not quite as confident as usual even though they won (she thinks), and she chuckles to herself knowing that Killian is most definitely going to want to ice his thighs and his groin later. He gets far too into these charity matches, but that’s what happens when you’re that competitive. Besides, he may be in a bit of pain, but she’s really enjoying the way that his pants cling to his legs and sweat beads off of his forehead, a few strands falling in front of his eyes. He should get his hair cut at the same time that Andy does.

Or not. It’s kind of hot.

“Hello, love,” he greets, flashing her a smile so bright that his eyes crinkle.

“Hi, babe.”

“Oh, Emma darling,” he laughs, leaning down and briefly brushing his lips over hers, “I was talking to my little love, but I’m excited to see you too.”

“Daddy,” Sutton squeals, reaching her arms up until Killian picks her up. “Play horse?”

“I did, sweetheart. I played on a rather large horse. Have you been playing with your mummy and Ruby?”

She nods her head up and down, running her fingers over Killian’s face. “I fell.”

“Oh no,” Killian gasps, overexaggerating his sounds as he settles down next to her on the blanket. He smells a little bit like a horse, and she’s surprised that Sutton hasn’t pointed it out. She’s a spirited little thing even with her limited vocabulary. “Did you get a scratch? Does Daddy need to kiss it all better. You know, Mummy says that Daddy’s kisses are like magic?”

“Totally not something you should be sharing with your daughter there, mate,” Graham laughs as Emma can feel her cheeks flush, red forming that has nothing to do with the little bit of sun she’s gotten today despite the lotion she’s reapplied. She can’t turn into a tomato or anything.

“That is not what I meant,” Killian scoffs, his eyes darting toward Graham before she sees him focus back on Sutton. “I was simply trying to make sure my little love is okay. You okay, Button?”

“Yep,” she sighs, scrambling up to kiss Killian’s cheek. She used to not be too much of a fan of her dad, which was such a shame because he’s a good person to be a fan of, but she’s definitely turning around and being affectionate toward him. Killian’s so gentle with her and always calling her ridiculous names like Button, so that likely helps. You’ve just got to know what Sutton likes to get in her favor. “Mummy fix.”

“Well, she’s very good at making things better. I’m telling you, little love, she has magic kisses.”

“Daddy,” Andy screams, shocking everyone out of their little bubble as he runs back up the hill, determination set in his features, “your face looks like a tomato!”

-/-

-/-

“This suit scratches, Daddy.”

“It’s just for a little while, lad.”

“But why?”

“Because this is what we do on Christmas Eve. Grandpa has been doing it for a long time, and we all do what he says.”

“But I don’t like this suit. I want to wear my Rudolph pajamas. He has a nose that lights up.”

“After dinner,” Killian sighs, buttoning up Andy’s shirt and tucking it in pants even as Andy squirms. “After we eat, I promise Mummy and I are going to come up here and change into our jammies and read you and Sutton a book.”

“Two books.”

“One book.”

“Two. One I pick out, and one for Sutton.”

“Maybe,” Killian laughs, reaching over and grabbing Andy’s suit jacket off of the chair. “Arms up.” Andy’s arms fly up, and Killian slides the jacket over them until he’s fully dressed. “See, lad, you look handsome, and I’m wearing something similar to you. Alex is going to be dressed like this too.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.”

“And I present to you,” Emma shouts from the bathroom so that Killian can turn his head to look, “Miss Sutton James all dressed up in her very pretty red dress that she helped to pick out.”

Sutton and Emma walk out of the bathroom, Sutton running in first with her hair pulled back into a short braid, a silver bow resting on the top of her head, and Emma follows behind her in his personal favorite emerald dress that she’s worn several times in the past few years. He’ll never quite get over the way it dips down to show her cleavage, and even if they’re spending the night with their families, he’s absolutely thrilled with the fact that she’s wearing it tonight.

He can always simply enjoy the view.

“Wow,” Andy mutters, smiling up at Emma. “Mummy, you are beautiful.”

He smiles a bit to himself at his son and his manners that he sometimes likes to let out. Plus, he’s definitely right, especially as Emma’s cheeks flush and her lips stretch into a soft smile. “Thank you, my handsome little man. What about Sutton? Don’t you think she’s beautiful?”

“Sure.”

He almost chokes on his own saliva as he tries to hold in his laugh, Andy’s manners going away to be replaced by indifference at his little sister. There’s only so much they can hope for when it comes to him. Last week at the Christmas party they always host for military families, Andy told everyone there that his parents were cuddling with no clothes and the room went silent for a moment before Liam lost his mind and barked out a laugh so loud that everyone else joined in, the mood lightening and the jolliness coming back. He’s still not sure why Andy said that, especially since he has not walked in on them when they’re in their bedroom, but the kid still somehow knows that.

It was mostly likely Ruby. And if it wasn’t, he’d bet that Andy saw it on a movie Mary Margaret was watching when she and David babysit. Man does he hope that Andy did not walk in on his grandparents cuddling without clothes. That would be scarring. It’s scarring to think about, and they’re not even his parents. That would be so much worse.

Sometimes he wonders if he really is thirty-six or if he’s actually still about sixteen.

“Sutton, darling,” he smiles, wiping away the few stray tears that escaped him, “you look so pretty. I like your dress.”

“Thank you,” she sighs while she does a little twirl so that the skirt of her dress flares up. “It’s red.”

“It is indeed,” he agrees before walking over to Emma and kissing the skin of her shoulder so as not to mess up her makeup before they take pictures downstairs. “You are one hot mum,” he whispers into her ear, his hands resting on her hips and tugging her closer even if he can’t kiss her right now, “and I like your dress so much more than Button’s.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Emma chuckles as she runs her hands over her shoulders, nails digging through his shirt. “I also think you look much better than Andy in your suit.” “If he hears you say that, he’ll rip it off and run around the dining room without anything on.”

“It’s a good thing they’re too busy turning around in circles to pay any attention to you flirting with me.” Emma pulls back and adjusts his shirt collar, her eyes slanted in concentration until she fixes it to her satisfaction and pats his chest. “I like when you flirt with me even though it’ll get you absolutely nowhere tonight.”

“All these years, and you still think I only flirt with you to get you to sleep with me.” “No, sometimes you flirt with me because you’ve done something that you know is going to piss me off, and you’re trying to butter me up.”

“Like bread.”

Emma tilts her head to the side, her lips ticking up even though he can tell she’s trying not to smile as she looks at him. “Did you just compare me to bread?”

“In a roundabout way.”

“You literally said the words ‘like bread.’ You compared me to bread.”

“Well, bread is a wonderful thing,” he promises, flashing her his brightest smile while he squeezes her waist. God, he loves her a ridiculous amount, and he’d like to flirt with her forever, even if he can do better than comparing her to bread. In a roundabout way, though. “It was not at all an insult.”

“I know.”

“Mummy,” Andy whines, and the both of them turn their heads to look at their children who have stopped turning in circles and are laid out on the floor spread out like starfish, “if I don’t have some cake right now, I’m going to die.”

“Woah boy,” Emma laughs, moving away from him even with his grip on her hips as she walks over to them and picks Sutton up from the floor, placing her on her hip while she tries to get Andy to stand too, “you are being dramatic. If you eat all of your dinner, you can eat one of the biscuits we made for Santa.”

“Will Santa still come if I eat them?” he cries, standing from the ground and wrapping his arms around Emma’s leg as much as he can and shaking his head back and forth.

The biscuit thing was definitely not the thing to say, especially because they’ve convinced their entire family to open presents on Christmas Day for the kids, so everyone has been hyping up Santa and all of the legends and myths of Christmas’s great imaginary friend as well as all of the traditions of the holiday. Abigail went on and on about the biscuits when they were baking them after the football match this afternoon, and he imagines that it’s that which caused the meltdown that’s about to occur.

“Santa is still going to come if you eat a biscuit. I promise. You have both been very good kids all year.” “What about when Sutton broke the lamp?”

“That was an accident, and it’s not nice to talk about things Sutton’s done wrong.” “Sorry.” “It’s okay,” Emma promises, balancing Andy’s conversation while he hears Sutton babble in her ears, the sentences far less structured but still likely important. “Now let’s go take some pictures and get some food.”

“Because it’s Christmas,” Andy yells, running out of the room with his sister trailing right behind him.

He and Emma are never going to catch up, but that’s okay with him as he twines together their fingers and slowly walks with her out the door, laughter on both of their lips and lightness in their chests.

-/-

-/-

Clothes litter the floor, reds and blue, maybe a few green polos too. Andy’s going to his first day of kindergarten…or reception. She’s pretty sure it’s called reception, but she’s always called it kindergarten. Some things simply aren’t going to change. The point is that Andy is going to school that’s more than just a few days a week or a few hours a day, and she is not at all emotionally prepared for it. She’s completely torn apart his room and his closet even though they make him clean it up with their help at least once a week, and she can’t find something for him to wear. She thought she wanted him to wear these khaki pants and a white shirt, but she decided that was far too boring and that his baby blue shorts and a little checked shirt would work better.

But then again, there’s also green.

She’s very possibly losing her mind, but if she keeps focusing on the clothes, she won’t cry.

Being pregnant and sending her firstborn off to kindergarten is most definitely not a good combination. It most likely might be the worst combination, but it’s not like she can just not send Andy off to school. That would be a horrible thing to do, and Killian would definitely take him without her if she tried.

He needs to go to school. Andy loves his nursery classes and all of his friends, and he’s so dang excited about it that it makes her feel bad that she’s so upset about him leaving. Plus education or whatever. He needs that, and she’ll get over it. She has to get over it.

What the hell is he going to wear?

Why isn’t there a uniform?

Actually, no. She would have hated having to wear a uniform, and that just does not seem like a good idea for Andy right now. He would probably rip off the jacket or something. And she knows that Sutton would once she gets there.

Nope. Not going to think about that. That’s far too much for her.

But Killian looked so damn adorable in his school uniforms as a child, and she’s sure that Andy would look like an exact replica.

She kind of wants that.

“The blue will bring out his eyes,” Killian says softly, walking into the room and picking up some of the clothes on the floor and folding them up. She’s not sure if it’s because he’s being sweet or if he simply can’t deal with her mess. “That’s what you always tell me, and it’s true for him too. So why don’t we dress him in this?” he asks, holding out the exact outfit she’d picked out…well, one of them. She picked out a lot. “He’ll wear this, and then you can stop worrying about it.”

“Killian – ”

“Okay, okay, so I know you’re not going to stop worrying, but you can stop worrying about this and move on to worrying if he and Oliver are going to get up to no good tomorrow.” “Oh God,” she laughs, walking over to Killian and wrapping her arms around his waist while he does the same, his hands moving up and down the length of her back in a motion that is always soothing, “they so are. I can’t believe they’re in the same class.” “I can. Those two would riot if they weren’t.” She feels his lips against her forehead and her heart flutters for a moment while she nuzzles herself into his chest. He’s always so solid for her, and she can’t thank him enough for it. “I can feel your bump, my love.”

“Yeah?” “Yeah. I’m still so thankful for our little surprise baby, even if the thought of being in charge of three people makes me nervous. I’ll probably go gray soon because of it.” “You’ll be a good gray, though. Salt and pepper. Distinguished, handsome, debonair.” She kisses just below the base of his neck over the hair that’s peeking out over his shirt, and she wonders if he would let her work her lips against his collarbone despite her parents being outside. “Also, this baby is most definitely the last one. We have two who got here on accident and one who made our lives a living hell trying to conceive her. And after that too. I don’t want to deal all of that again. Plus, you know, labor sucks.” “I do know that, having been through it myself.” “Hush.” “You’re the one who said it. three is a nice number, by the way. I like it.” “You better.” She can feel him tracing indistinguishable patterns on her back while she focuses on the sound and feel of his heartbeat, the very real confirmation that he’s here and with her every step of the way. “I can’t believe our baby is going to school tomorrow.”

“Me either.”

“When in the world did we allow him to grow up?”

“Well, on September twenty-third – ”

“Shut up. I remember his birth. I did most of the work there.”

“Aye, you did. Emma, it’s going to be fine. He’s going to have a great day, and at the end of it, he’s going to come home and tell us all about how much he loved his new friends and his teacher. And then he’ll probably say something ridiculous about how he’s glad he doesn’t have to go back again. Man, that will be a harsh blow.”

She laughs against his chest, her entire body shaking at Killian’s words, and she leans back, tilting her chin up to look at Killian as he smiles down at her, his eyes very obviously scanning her face. “It’ll probably only get worse when we tell him he has to go until he’s, like, twenty-two if he goes to university.”

“Maybe we leave that part out, yeah?”

“That’s probably a good idea.” She presses up on her toes to quickly brush her lips over Killian’s, letting his scruff rub into her skin, a pleasant burn if she’s ever felt one. “Are my parents still watching the kids?”

“Yeah, they’re out by the pool. Why don’t you change into a suit and we’ll go out there?”

“I like that plan.”

She changes into an old swimsuit, one that covers a little more of her body than she usually prefers, but after a few times swimming this summer, she’s discovered that her bikinis are prone to fall off when the kids grab onto her while swimming. So those are reserved for special times and when she’s tanning a bit. It’s not particularly hot out or anything now, so she’d likely be fine walking out there in some leggings and a t-shirt.

When she slides open the kitchen door and walks out onto the stones, Indy gets up from her spot in the shade and comes to greet her, wagging her tail as Emma scratches her head. Before she can close the door, though, Indy shoots inside, and Emma shakes her head at the fact that the dog is just using her for her door opening capabilities. She can hear her kids before she can see them, the splashing and screaming obvious to anyone with ears, and as she moves along the path and through the blooming flowers, everyone comes into view.

Her mom is in the pool floating with Sutton and helping her swim even with her floaties, and Andy is leaping from float to float before sticking his head underneath the fountain that they have to replenish the water supply. Killian’s putting on lotion, slathering it down his arms and his chest, making his skin and his muscles glisten, and she has a brief thought that views like that are probably the thing that’s helped to make her pregnant three times.

It’s also probably the way he looks at her.

The way he still looks at her, like she’s been in charge of making the sun shine down on them or something. They’ve been together for nearly half of her life, and sometimes when he looks at her, she swears it’s like it’s the first time. Well, if the first time had involved affection and awe and not a tiny bit of animosity as she told him to get his wet ass out of their booth. How they got this life from that moment, she has absolutely no idea. How the greatest man she’s ever known looks at her in a way that makes her stomach still flutter, she’ll likely never know either.

There are some thoughts she’s going to keep to herself. She can share the first part, though, wolf whistling at Killian and waiting for him to wink back before she joins her dad sitting on a patio swing that’s under a bit of shade.

“Hey, sweetheart,” her dad greets, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and tugging her to him so that he can kiss her temple. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay today. My nausea is calming down, but the acid reflux sucks. And I’m still exhausted half the time, but it’s getting better.” “Good. I hate that you have to go through all of that to give me my precious grandbabies.”

“I mean, if I could change biology, I totally would, but since that’s not an option, I feel like I can deal with this for a little while. Besides, look at those lovable idiots.”

Andy is now on top of Killian’s shoulders, pulling at his father’s hair despite the fact that Killian has been in the pool for less than a minute, and Sutton is wrapped around his neck while Killian’s eyes practically bug out. They’re going to kill him, but he loves them. He’s a damn good dad. Probably super dad or something.

“Or I can look at you since you’re still my little girl.”

“Dad,” she sighs, resting her head on his shoulder while her cheeks flush. “I’m hormonal. I will cry, and you’ll have to clean up the snot.” “Nothing I’ve never done before.” “True. How did you…how did you deal with me going to kindergarten for the first time?”

“Eh, it wasn’t a big deal. We got you dressed and sent you off.”

“Really?”

“God, no. I cried like a baby the moment I got back in the car and drove to work after dropping your mother off. I didn’t think it was going to be that bad, but it was so much worse.”

“That is not at all reassuring.” “I know,” he chuckles, rubbing his hand up and down her arm. “Just telling you the truth, Ems. But you’ll be fine. It’ll hurt for a little while, but then you see your kid in his element and suddenly you’re not so sad. You’re happy that he’s becoming his own little person.”

“Yeah?”

“Most definitely. Plus, he’s going to make you all of these awful crafts and gifts for every holiday, and you’re going to display a tissue paper flower pot next to a vase you got from the King of Spain.”

“So normal people stuff then?” “Yeah, exactly.”

“Papa,” Sutton yells as Killian wades their brood toward the edge of the pool, carefully placing her on the ground and telling her to be careful as she quickly walks over to the two of them. “Papa, I can swim.”

“I know,” David gasps, picking her up despite the fact that she’s soaking wet. “I saw you. You did so good, honey.”

She watches her dad play with his granddaughter, the joy on his face so obvious, and it makes her smile to herself as she listens to them have a spirited conversation. Her dad is one of her best friends, and he’s as good with her children as he’s always been with her.

So, really, he’s the best, and she’s thankful that he’s supported her since day one.

He’s a super dad too.

They spend most of their day outside until the kids tire themselves out and go to bed early, Andy’s outfit and backpack all laid out for him in the morning. When she wakes up, Killian’s not in bed, the sheets cool to the touch, and after she vomits (so it still happens in the mornings or after she naps), she takes a shower and starts getting ready for the day. It’s still dark outside, crickets chirping, but she can see the dark blue fading into something lighter as she blows her hair dry.

She’s got absolutely no idea what Killian’s doing up as early as he is, and when she walks downstairs dressed for the day in everything but her loafers, she finds him sitting in his office flipping through a book. A photobook.

Her sweet, sweet husband.

“How long have you been looking through his baby pictures?”

“About an hour.”

“Killian,” she murmurs, walking toward him and running her hands through his hair, pushing it back off of his head and scratching his scalp because she knows that it calms him, “let’s go get breakfast ready.”

“Just a moment, love. I’m almost finished with the book.”

She sighs but nods her head, nudging him back so that she can sit down on Killian’s lap, his arm immediately wrapping around her stomach and holding her to him as his free hand ghosts over the pictures. He’s looking at one of the three of them from Ruby’s wedding weekend. They’re on the beach, Andy dressed in those adorable little anchor swim trunks that she still has in a box somewhere, and he’s got this little gummy smile on his face and Killian holds onto his fat rolls as they sit in the sand. She remembers that weekend so well, and she remembers her weird obsession with those fat rolls.

“Killian, look at that munchkin.” “I know. That’s what I’m doing down here.”

She twists her head and presses her lips against her temple, the scent of his shampoo lingering. Sometimes he tries to hide his feelings when she’s extra emotional, but she always knows that he feels it too. Finding him looking at pictures is a prime example, and her heart swells for a moment, her stomach twisting.

“I’ll tell you what,” she mumbles into his skin, running her hand over his bicep, “why don’t we go get him ready, and then after it’s all over, you and I can come back here and go through all of these memories, okay?” He nods into her hair, nose pressed against her scalp. “I like this plan.”

“Good.” Killian starts on breakfast while she runs upstairs to get Andy ready for school, waking him up more easily than she ever has as he shoots up out of bed already blabbering about how excited he is to go to school today. He’s so excited that he insists on dressing himself only for his short to go on backwards and for Emma to have to struggle to get him to fix it because he likes the way that it looks. His hair is an entirely different story. He likes to keep it wild because that’s what his dad does, and it doesn’t matter how many times they show him that Killian sometimes styles his, Andy refuses.

He refuses until Killian does it for him. Kids are so weird.

“I’m going to school,” he announces, sliding into the kitchen and scrambling onto a stool while she holds Sutton on her hip. Sutton is still half asleep, rubbing her eyes with her hair still all over the place from her sleep. “Dad, Dad, Dad. Did you know that I’m going to school? Are these waffles? Do they have chocolate chips in them?”

“Blueberries,” Killian laughs, sliding him a plate with an already cut up waffle and a glass of water. “You cannot have sugar before your first big day at school.”

Andy shrugs before he starts scarfing the food down at lightning speed, and Killian has to slow him down while she settles down on a stool and picks off of the plate that Killian hands her for she and Sutton to share.

Sutton hums as she takes her bites, stuffing them in her mouth nearly as fast as Andy does, and while Killian goes to get ready, she has to keep the both of them from choking on their food while they talk to her and to each other. They don’t know that she’s having another kid yet, and she can only imagine how the reactions are going to be.

Or what it’s going to be like to keep three kids from choking on blueberry waffles all at once.

Elsa shows up to watch Sutton while they take Andy to school, and for the short ride over, Killian interlaces his free hand with hers as they listen to Andy talk all about what he and Oliver are going to do today only for Killian to tell him that no, he cannot climb a tree on the playground.

“Alright, bud,” Emma sighs as she gets out of the car and unbuckles Andy’s booster seat, her heart beating quickly in her chest while she tries to push back the nausea that’s coming back a bit, “are you ready to go inside?”

“I get to take my Andy backpack inside?”

“Yep,” she promises, grabbing his little red bag with his name monogrammed across it. It’s actually got Andrew Killian written on it because once Andy found out his middle name was the same as his dad’s first, he’s really liked saying his full name. “You get to carry it with you and put it in your cubby.”

“Good. It’s got my crayons in it.”

She takes his hand and holds on as they walk to the school entrance with Killian holding onto Andy’s other hand and Thomas discreetly walking behind them despite the fact that they wanted this to be as low key as possible.

“Those picture people are here,” Andy points out, glancing over to the photographers that are posed outside of the school. She didn’t want them here today, but she didn’t have any way to keep them away since they’re not on school grounds.

“Yeah, Andy, they are,” she whispers, tugging him closer to her side and ignoring all of the photographers until they’re inside the school doors where the three of them can have a moment to themselves just outside of his classroom door. “Alright, baby,” she sighs, squatting down to his level and brushing his hair back again while she looks into those baby blue eyes, “you’re going to be on your best behavior today, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you’re going to listen to Mrs. Murray?”

“Mhm.”

He’s obviously anxious to go inside, his eyes glancing toward the door while he fidgets, so she pulls him into an embrace and cups the back of his head while she kisses his forehead. “I love you, Andy.”

“I love you, Mummy.”

She laughs into his hair and pulls back so Killian can give Andy a hug too.

“I love you, lad.”

“I love you too. Can I go now?”

“Yes,” Killian sighs, glancing up at her with those identical baby blue eyes, “you can go. Just don’t run.”

“We’re so getting a call about misbehavior before the day is over,” she chuckles even as she wipes the tears from her eyes.

“Yeah,” Killian sighs, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and kissing her temple, “we definitely are. I’m kind of looking forward to it.”

-/-

-/-

Her hair smells like peppermint, which is unfamiliar and yet no less pleasant than the usual smell of vanilla or flowers from her perfume that often mixes in, and he wonders if he can convince her to take home this shampoo that she bought six days ago when she realized that she forgot to pack anything other than the kids’ bath products. He’s sure that he could, that he could get her to invest in something that makes her smell like hot chocolate and Christmas, something that makes her smell like this house with the snow falling down outside at such a pace that they’ll be buried in it sooner rather than later.

Emma twitches in her sleep, a small puff of air passing through her lips and falling on the skin of his neck, warm breath tickling along his flesh that causes bumps to rise and a chill to cover him that has nothing to do with the weather. For the briefest of moments he believes that she’s about to wake from her slumber, but then she’s burying her face further into his neck, into the thick sweater he has on, and her face disappears only for it to be replaced with her hair, silky blonde waves falling down her back, the tips ending in the middle of her waist just over where her own sweater has risen up to expose the smooth skin of the small of her back and the way that her waist dips in the slightest bit right at her hips.

It’s been awhile since they’ve had a quiet morning like this where he can trail his fingers through her hair while she sleeps, his other hand free to trace along her arm from where it’s wrapped around his waist. Usually they have Andy to get to primary school, Sutton to nursery, and Collins, well, they simply have to keep her alive and well. They’ve both made efforts not to work in the mornings so they can be there for their children as much as they can. He doesn’t often like to take too much advantage of his position in life, but he does when it comes to making decisions on their schedules. His main focuses in his life are his wife and his children, and if he can, he schedules himself to be away from them as little as possible.

Back in November he’d traveled to Canada for a week with his mother since his father wasn’t feeling like traveling to North America, and it had been one of the most difficult weeks of his life. He loved not having to deal with his kids for a little while, loved sleeping in a bed by himself, but he missed them all so damn much. And he could tell how difficult it was for Emma to not have his help. She had all kinds of help, but it’s different when it’s not someone who you work with and live with on a daily basis.

Now, though, they’re resting in a house in Switzerland, he and Emma cocooned in a bedroom on the top floor of the house that’s pretty much made up of windows that allow them to see the mountaintops and the snow falling, landing on the ground and covering it in a soft white blanket that the sun likes to glisten off of in the mornings when the it rises, covering everything in a soft yellow glow that brings him more comfort than snow usually does. He usually thinks it’s a cold, wet mess, but he’ll enjoy it from the comfort of his bed.

Andy and Sutton are downstairs sharing a room, the two of them practically bouncing off of the walls to get to be on winter holiday and to sleep in a room with bunkbeds, the both of them claiming a top bunk. Collins is resting in her bassinet in the sitting room just next door to them, and she’s been sleeping since around nine last night. Of all of their children, she’s the calmest. It’s a bit of whiplash after Sutton and the whirlwind that she consistently is, but he likes the calm of Collins and the way that unless someone makes far too loud of a noise, she quietly sits by herself and plays with her toys or babbles to he and Emma. She’s almost ready to speak. He can just feel it somewhere deep in his bones.

She’s got blonde hair, too. They thought that was going to be Sutton, but no, her hair has officially morphed into a light brown. Andy’s still got a black mop of hair, that never really changed, but he thinks he’s got another Emma on his hands from the blonde wisps that continue to grow on his Linnie’s head. She’s got his eyes, though, and while he knows Emma loves that, he is so partial to Emma’s eyes over his.

He won’t ever tell Andy and Collins that, though. He loves their eyes just the same.

“You’re thinking really loudly,” Emma mumbles into his chest before he can feel her lips against his throat, softness and warmth consuming him all at once.

“I can promise you I’m not,” he whispers, his hand continuing to play with her hair. She’s barely coherent, her words slurred, and sometimes it’s like they’re still two kids who are on a trip to Switzerland drinking far too much cheap wine and eating too much junk food without a care or responsibility in the world. “You should go back to sleep.”

“Probably,” she huffs, looping her leg over his hip and resting it on the other side of him. If he wanted to, he could shift his body the slightest bit and urge them into a slide of skin against skin, but he’s okay resting like this for a little while longer. He’s watching a snowflake melt on the window anyways. “What time is it?”

“Little after six thirty.”

She groans into his skin before flopping her entire body down with all of the grace of a swan and turning her head to the side so that he can see her profile, freckles on sun-kissed cheeks and blonde lashes resting against the freckles. Goodness, does he love her. More than anything.

“Why are you awake?”

“The sky’s awake, so I’m awake.” “Nope, no, nope. It’s far too early to be quoting children’s movies,” she huffs, tightening her grip around his stomach and pressing her head up so that he can feel her lips against his chin, the softness contrasting with the harshness of his scruff. Sometimes he wonders if that’s how he and Emma are, a contrast of light and dark, of soft curves and hard edges, but he knows that somewhere along the way they managed to morph together into a blurred mixture, the softness and light staying and the harsh darkness peeking out when it’s needed.

“Whatever shall I quote then? The opera? More mature films? And no, not the dirty ones, love. Let’s see, let’s see,” he hums, tapping his fingers against the skin of her back. “Songs? Are we thinking classical or modern? Television shows? Authors? Your mother?”

“Shut up,” she laughs, gently slapping his shoulder and nuzzling into his chest again. “It’s so pretty outside.”

“Aye, beautiful. You think our old bodies will hold up again out there today?”

“Don’t you know never to call your wife’s body old?”

“I’ve never been one for following rules.”

“True. I was thinking that since it’s our last day here that we kind of have a chill day inside, eat some food, watch some movies, and then we can take the kids out to play in the snow for a little while, maybe finally get the family photo we’ve been trying to get since the first day.” “Thomas is not a great photographer.”

“Or we’re not photogenic.”

“So I can’t call your body old, but you can say I’m not photogenic.”

“Double standards, babe. I only disagree with them when it benefits me.”

He gently slaps her ass in retaliation, enjoying the yelp that she lets out, before she unwraps herself from him and sits up next to him, tucking herself into his side. It’s such a good fit, the two of them, and he often likes to think of how she can curl herself into him without there being limbs in awkward places, just her arms around his stomach and her feet tucked into his calves searching for the warmth that she’s always lacking there.

“I think I could do for a lazy day. A holiday while on our holiday so that we can recover from everything. I took a pretty nasty fall yesterday, and I would bet my bum is bruising.”

“I’m not checking out your ass right now if that’s what you’re hinting at me to do.”

“I was being serious, but it’s nice to know where your mind goes.” “My mind is always in the gutter. It’s got a nice little home set up there.”

“Do you have a place for all of your sweaters?”

“Right next to the place where you can keep your socks when you come to visit.”

“So sweet,” he snickers, rolling his eyes and twisting his head to the side to press his lips against the corner of Emma’s until he can get her upper lip between both of his, teasingly biting down for a minute before pulling back and smattering kisses against her cheek while her fingers twist the hair on his chest, a shiver running down his spine with each curl of her fingers. “You’re always thinking of me, and I appreciate that.”

“Well, sometimes I’m not. You know, I like to think about food and the ending of Game of Thrones that I’m still not over and then sometimes about the spawn we made with our genitals.”

He sputters out a laugh, tears forming behind his eyes, and he has to tuck his face into her hair, smelling the peppermint again and reveling in it. “I love you so goddamn much.”

He feels her hand in his hair, nails scratching against his scalp, and he swears he can feel her lips against his head even though he knows that he cannot. “I love you, baby daddy. Speaking of our genital spawn, I’m going to go get Linnie so we can cuddle with her for a bit.”

“She could be asleep.”

“Trust me. She’s not. I also know that she needs to eat. My boobs are full.”

“Don’t I know it?”

“You’re a child,” she sighs, kissing his cheek and pulling back from him as she gets out of bed, her feet pounding against the floor when she hops off the tall frame, and walks through the doorway to the sitting room.

While she’s gone, he takes the opportunity to use the restroom and grab a new pair of socks for both he and Emma, the cool ground reminding him of the chill that’s been seeping through the crevices of the home. It doesn’t take long before Emma has returned, Collins changed into a new set of pajamas with her hair combed through, and Emma settles into bed with her, pulling the blankets up over the two of them, completely ignoring the socks that he left out.

“Hello, Linnie,” he whispers, leaning forward and kissing the crown of her head while she smiles at him, her nickname always making her smile for some reason. “Did you sleep well? Mummy didn’t keep you up with her snoring?”

“No,” she answers, and his lips fall open as his stomach flips.

“Did she just speak?”

“Did you just say that I snore?”

“That is so not what’s important here, love,” he laughs, looking up at her before he takes Collins out of Emma’s arms and places her in his lap while he tries to convince her to say no again. She doesn’t, but that doesn’t mean he can’t at least try.

His last little lady just said her first word, and he’s so damn proud.

It’s not long before Andy and Sutton join them, quietly opening the door to see that he and Emma are awake before they barge in, jumping on the bed as quickly as they can, even with Sutton’s struggle to climb up on her own, her legs nowhere near as long as Andy’s. They’re all a mess, filling every second of silence with talking about what they want to eat for breakfast and what kind of snowmen they’re going to build outside or what movies to watch. Andy and Sutton get into a bit of a row about using carrots for the nose (“Noses aren’t orange, Andy.”), but eventually they calm down and he and Emma get everyone downstairs, fed, and dressed to go outside so that they can build snowmen with whatever kind of nose that they want.

“Andy, you have to stop squirming so we can get this picture.”

“Why do you need a picture of me when you can see me right now?”

“So I can see you later.”

“Where am I going to be that you can’t see me?” “Yeah, where’s Andy going to be?” Sutton cries, the tears obviously in her voice.

“Andy isn’t going anywhere,” Emma explains, looking over at Killian and rolling her eyes while the pom pom on her head moves and snow continues to fall down around them. “You guys are being silly, and the faster you stop and smile for Thomas to take our picture, the faster we can get back to playing.” “I was kind of hoping I could go to Hogwarts,” Andy huffs under his breath.

Okay, so maybe they shouldn’t have started reading Harry Potter to their seven-year-old quite yet, but he’ll figure it out eventually.

They eventually get their family photo before letting the kids scramble off into the snow, only making them come inside so that their non-carrot noses don’t turn blue. Emma’s been making them grilled cheese and hot chocolate, and his mind replays with decade old memories of her making him try one of those blasted sandwiches for the first time as she sat on a countertop not too far from here. He still hates them, but his kids like them.

And the hot chocolate isn’t too bad.

Neither is the company.

“Marshmallows look like snow,” Sutton sighs, poking her drink. “Can I eat snow?”

“If it’s not yellow.”

“Killian,” Emma gasps, twisting around with her mouth gaping open, “you have to also warn about green snow too. And purple. If you eat purple snow, phew, I think your stomach will explode.”

“What?”

“Cool.”

“Gross.”

“Where is the purple snow?” Andy questions, running his fingers over his chin in contemplation while Sutton continues to eat her marshmallows one by one and Linnie wanders around the kitchen hooked into her jumper so that they can keep track of where she wanders.

“On the other side of the mountain, I think,” Emma mutters under her breath as she walks over to him and hands him his mug of hot chocolate with a sweet smile. “Or we can get some grape juice and pour it on the snow outside.”

“If purple snow tastes like grape juice, why can’t we eat it?”

“They raise a good question, love.”

“They do, don’t they?” she hums, closing her eyes and taking sip of her chocolate, obviously to buy more time. “Well, I think it goes like this. If Mommy helps you make the colorful snow, we can eat it. If I don’t, that’s a no go.”

“Why would we even want to eat snow, Sutton?” Andy wonders, turning his head and propping his face up on his hand as he talks to his sister.

She shrugs, taking another sip of her drink and coming away with a line of chocolate on her lips. “Cause marshmallows are yummy, and I can’t reach where Mummy hides them.”

“I can,” he whispers, but it’s loud enough that both he and Emma can hear it. “I’ll get you some later.”

And that explains why Emma keeps blaming him for eating the chocolate candy she hides at the top of the kitchen cabinet. Andy is obviously pilfering it, and they’re going to have to start locking down their cabinets. Or find a new hiding place. The locks might be easier.

They never do end up making purple or any other colored snow. Instead they curl up under blankets and pillows and watch their forever favorite of Finding Nemo (“Why doesn’t my fish talk, Dad?”) despite his insistence that they try something else out. His kids love repetition, and he swears that if all of their movies lost sound, he could act out all of the scenes for all the words that he knows. He’s almost excited when new ones come out and he sees them for the first time, but then he realizes that this one is going to go into the memory banks as well.

Next time he’s in Australia he’s definitely going to P. Sherman, 42 Wallaby Way, Sydney. Well, he doesn’t think that’s a real address, but if it were, he’d definitely buy the keychain.

One by one, they fall asleep, Collins breathing a steady rhythm against his chest far before Sutton spreads out on an armchair and Andy falls asleep with his nose pressed into the couch cushions. They can’t leave them that way, so in a continual team effort, he and Emma move them all to their resting places before finally getting to fall asleep themselves.

When they get back to England the next day, it’s a mess of carrying in suitcases and children, trying to balance unpacking with Indy dragging clothes and undergarments all over the house out of her excitement to have them home after being away from her for a week. He’s sure that sometime tomorrow he’ll find Emma’s bra resting next to the pool or one of Sutton’s bows resting atop his toothbrush. But they get it mostly done, especially after the kids all go to bed, and after he’s brushed his teeth and showered, he heads downstairs to the kitchen and finds Emma standing behind the island eating a spoonful of yogurt.

Her hair is unwashed and unruly, tendrils falling down from her bun, even more escaping the band that’s holding it up as she sways back and forth to the music in her head that only she can hear. She’s still got on her clothes from the plane ride, an unknown stain just over her right breast and, and he’s sure if he were to look in her back pocket, there’d be a packet of crushed crackers that she had for Sutton and forgot about before she sat down. She’s ridiculous and beautiful, and he loves her, stained t-shirt and all.

“Hey, handsome,” she teases, leaning over the kitchen counter as he walks further into the room, settling down on a barstool like he did so many times before in a completely different setting, one that lacked their children’s photos on the shelves and their wedding portraits on the walls. “Is there something I can do for you?”

Give me my entire life, he thinks to himself, knowing Emma would affectionately mutter something about him being cheesy if he were to say it out loud.

“No,” he says instead, reaching over and twining his fingers together with Emma’s over the countertop, his thumb tapping over her knuckles while he smiles at her simply because he can, simply because she makes him happy, “I’m good just like this.”

[katie-dub]

The Princess of White Chapel (12/12)

Dr Killian Jones is having a terrible day. He’s got a mission, he’s got a time machine, he’s got … drunk. What could possibly go wrong?

AO3 | Tumblr

Rated M for alcohol use, violence, minor character death, frank discussions of depression and grief.

I can’t believe we’re at the end - thank you to all of you for reading, to my betas, the ever fantastic @distant-rose and @ultraluckycatnd, and to the talented @princesse-swan for creating beautiful art for me.

Now, on with the show!

One Year Later

He was on a pirate ship, hand and hook on the ship’s wheel. The salty sea breeze felt good against his skin, soothing the heat of the hot, summer sun. Princess Emma was leaning against the railings, smiling brighter than any star in the sky and giggling as the breeze wafted her curls across her face.

Lily circled lazily overhead, on guard for attack from pirates, the Evil Queen, or the villain Rumplestiltskin. But those dark clouds on the horizon could not spoil this moment, for he was here with his love. He was at peace.

“Dr Jones, Dr Jones, calling Dr Jones!” Despite being fast asleep just moments ago, Killian's reactions were laser fast. His arm shot out and he answered the phone as he yanked it to his ear.

“I can send you to another bloody realm you know, Scarlet,” he growled. “Don’t test me.”

“Oh really?” Belle replied. He pulled the phone away from his ear to squint at it in confusion. Will’s face pouted up at him in a ridiculous kiss face.

“Why are you using Will’s phone?”

“Forgot to put mine on charge last night.”

“You never forget to put your phone on charge.” Killian could practically hear her blush at his unspoken accusation.

“Yeah, well, we were.. Um. Busy,” she blustered.

“Well, well, well Miss French. Find yourself busy with our dear Will often? If so, I'd suggest you get your jabs. You don't know where that boy's been.”

“Killian!” Belle was equal parts indignant and embarrassed. “What we - if I - look, if you're still coming to book group, can you bring that book you told me about?”

“I wouldn't miss it for the world.”

“Really? I thought you might feel a bit uncomfortable, what with the subject matter…”

He glanced over at his copy of Atonement on his nightstand. “Lovers cruelly torn apart before their love story had truly begun? Yeah, I know that feeling.”

“Sorry.” Killian felt as though he could hear Belle's wince through the phone. “Honestly, I'll understand if it's too much.”

“It's fine, love. The counselling is helping me to cope with everything. At least this couple got their happily ever after, if only in fiction.”

He briefly wondered what he and Emma’s fictional happy ending would have been. He could practically see it, him gazing at her in adoration as they said their vows, her radiant smile as he dipped her into their first kiss as husband and wife.

He realised that he hadn't been listening to Belle at all, caught up in a love story that could never be. “... Should I stop by your place on the way?”

“Sure, you can tell me all about how Will finally tricked you into accepting that date.”

“I heard that!” Will shouted in the background.

“I meant you to!” Killian called back.

Belle sighed. “I'll see you at 7.”

“Bye. Don’t do anything I wouldn't do.” He raised his voice. “And, yes, that includes Will.” He was expecting the sudden silence that greeted his words. He may give Belle a hard time, but he really was pleased that they'd finally got their act together.

His eyes flicked to the time on his phone. 8:15am. Too late to go back to sleep, but he didn't quite feel ready to leave the comfort of his bed behind and face the world.

Instead, he pulled up Facebook and scrolled through his feed.

Cute baby.

Cute baby.

Woah, seriously ugly baby. Bloody hell, what an unfortunate face, Killian thought to himself, swiping just a little faster away from the photo.

Robin Locksley shared a post from The Guardian:

A Crocodile in our Midst

“One year on from the appearance of the London Dragon, and the start of the Enchanted Disaster, we now know one man was behind it all. Robert Gold. Now that the scale of Gold’s influence and empire built on favours, deceit and corruption at the highest levels has been revealed, we ask; what lessons can we learn?”

He hesitated. Stared at the post long and hard. He should have known his feed would be full of stories like this today.

He couldn’t read it now. Perhaps he never would be able to. He’d been through enough in the past year, reporting to the Darling Inquiry, to the police, to the university.

He was finally in a better place. People finally knew what a monster Gold really was, had always been. He was working alongside Dr Smee at Imperial College London. He was getting out more. He was having regular sessions with Dr Hopper.

But still.

He sighed and continued to scroll.

Holiday photos.

Cute children.

Cute dog.

Cute baby.

Aurora Rosen shared a post from The Daily Mail “People are so mean!!! Leave this family alone!!!”:

‘Leave our princess in peace!’ plead Ashley and Sean Herman

Alexandra Herman stole all of our hearts as the face of the Enchanted Disaster, a beautiful little girl lost in another world. Her parents’ campaign for her safe return had a happy ending, but now that she is safely home, they beg for privacy.  

Cute baby.

Holiday photos.

Ironic “wish you were here” post of a dowdy living room presumably intended to get a laugh, but coming off a little too bitter.

Ruby Lucas shared a post from OK! Magazine UK “Get it girls ;)”:

A Royal Romance for Rapunzel

“Singer Rapunzel and Princess Elsa open up for the first time about how their shared ordeal kidnapped by Gold led to them finding love.”

So many people had been brought together by the strange happenings in town, and what did he have to show for it? Two pictures on his wall. Emma’s sketch of a swan and the recent painting he’d done of a swan on the Thames that had made him smile. The first painting he’d done since she’d left that he actually thought worthy of hanging on the wall. Yes, it was lovely to feel that Emma had helped him to rediscover his love of painting, which gave him a link to both of his lost loves, but still... A painting couldn't ask about his day, couldn’t hold him at night, couldn’t borrow his phone when it forgot to charge its own phone because of their more enjoyable activities.

God he never thought he’d be jealous of Will bloody Scarlett.

Killian sighed and put his phone to one side. It was no good. Everything was making him think of Emma. It was still several hours until he had to be at their spot, he needed a better distraction than social media.

He’d been putting off deep cleaning his fridge. No time like the present.

***

He was at their spot and the sun was shining. It wasn’t the harsh, oppressive and overwhelming heat of the previous year, but instead a gorgeous sunny day.

He should have been grateful that on his and Emma’s day, the weather was glorious, but he felt angry. There should be storms raging, torrential rain, unnatural, unseasonable fog. Something, anything to show that the world understood what he had lost.

This resentment wasn’t a new feeling to him. He’d spent years biting his tongue at the way his friends prodded him about his love life or how an acquaintance would casually refer to the loss of Milah or at the sight of Gold. His short time with Emma and the healing that he’d done in the past year had helped him to not feel overwhelmed by it. On a normal day.

But today, it was all too much.

Twice he had loved wholly, honestly and truly; and twice that love and joy had been ripped from him.

He could see how much more to life there was than just romantic love now. His therapy had helped him to appreciate the richness and beauty in all aspects of his life. But he was a passionate man and he longed to share his heart with another. The absence of that love left an emptiness inside him that caused a deep ache if he dwelt on it for long, because whoever heard of lightning striking thrice?

The beautiful day made him feel like the world was taunting him. It was just so unfair. Where was the sense in anything that had happened? As he seethed, questions whirled through his mind, he could feel his wrath taking over. His muscles tensed, he clenched his teeth, his chest felt tight as the tempest grew.

No.

Not today.

He needed to reclaim today as a celebration of his short time with Emma. He couldn’t let his fury win.

He stared at the water and tried to remember the mindfulness exercises that Dr Hopper had taught him to help him to cope. Eyes unfocused. Deep breaths. Feel the bench beneath him. Listen to the sounds around him. Notice how he felt. Don’t try to change it. Accept it. Sit with his feelings.

He caught a glimpse of golden hair.

“Swan?”

The woman spun, he knew it wouldn’t be her. He’d done this so many times before. Especially in the beginning. She had magic. She was from an entire realm full of magic. She could find a way. She would… He’d always been disappointed.

“Yes?” Green eyes looked back at him. She had soft cheeks, a dimpled chin, she was perfect. She couldn’t possibly be real. Then she frowned at him. “Do I know you? Because you said my name and now you’re doing some kind of creepy stalker thing and I’m really not into that.”

“Are you Emma Swan?”

She held up her hands and stepped back from him. “Listen, buddy -”

Killian shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’m being so weird. Um, you know the Enchanted Disaster that happened?”

“Yeah! Is it bad if I say that I thought it was cool as fuck? I may have snuck a niffler home. Kind of regretted that when the little fucker tore my purse to shreds looking for treasure.”

“OK, well, I met another you, from the Enchanted Forest.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“But I didn’t end up the other realm?”

“Not everyone switched places. Some people stumbled through portals. She was the first. Faced off against the London Dragon?”

“Oh god, I remember that! People kept asking where I’d learned how to do magic, didn’t like it when I said Hogwarts. But if you’re going to ask a dumb question...”

Killian laughed and nodded. This was so weird. She was Emma, but not Emma. She had the same dry sense of humour, but with the addition of pop culture references. He realised that he’d waited too long to say more, still overawed. “The dragon was actually friends with Emma,” he said, desperate for the conversation to continue.

Emma frowned at him and shook her head incredulously. “Oh come on! Now I know you’re making this up.”

“No really! I didn’t much like her, kind of a bitch and a major fire hazard. Honestly, I don’t miss having her in my flat.”

“You had Maleficent in your apartment?”

“I believe she’s Lily’s mother actually.”

Emma smirked at him. “Bullshit.” He just raised his eyebrows and cocked his head, trying to give off a “you keep telling yourself that” vibe as he grinned. “If I believe you then I have to accept that the street art I keep seeing of her looking like some kind of badass female Saint George is all anti-dragon propaganda. You have to let me have that vision, people buy me drinks because they think I’m her, I’ve gotten laid because of it.”

He laughed. “Far be it from me to cramp your style, Emma may not have actually slain the dragon, but she was definitely a badass. Have you seen the one of her looking like Wonder Woman with the lightsaber?”

“In the parking lot on Brick Lane? I love that one!”

“She loved it too. Of course, she didn’t actually know what a lightsaber was.” He laughed at the memory.

“Tell me you fixed that immediately or I’m not sure we can be friends.”

He laughed. “As if I would deny anyone a proper Star Wars education.” Emma nodded her approval. “Hey would you like to get a coffee?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Emma shook her head and his face fell. “Sorry, er, what did you say your name was?”

“Killian,” he said, trying not to feel too sad. He studied his feet, wondering if the ground could just open up and swallow him. Of course she wouldn’t want to get coffee, this was so strange and he’d approached her in the weirdest possible way.

“Maybe we could get a hot chocolate instead?” He looked up at her in surprise. She shrugged. “I don’t drink coffee,” she said apologetically. “Is that ok?”

“Yeah.” He was dazed, stunned into stupidity by this new Emma Swan.

“Come on, I want to hear all about how awesome I am.” She winked at him. And for the first time since Princess Emma had stepped through that portal he felt that powerful feeling surging through him and lighting him up inside. For the first time since she left, Killian had hope.

[thorne93]

Writing Interview

I was tagged by @illegalcerebral who is utterly amazing in every sense of the word

Q: What is your coffee order? 

This totally depends. It’s not even related to weather either. I’ve been known to get hot lattes in summer, and blended iced drinks in the winter. Typically, I opt for something caramel, or hazelnut, or both. I like it to be sweet but not overly sweet, so long as the bitterness of the coffee is cut, I’m golden. 

Q: What is the coolest thing you’ve ever done?

Depends, I’ve done lots of stuff. I have my own novel published and I’ve sold over 100 copies (not a lot, I know, but to a kid whose dream was “I just want 1 person I don’t know to buy it and like it” and it happened -- that’s perfect for me). I also wrote a short story that my professor insisted I get published - i’m in the process of that now. 

Q: Who has been your biggest mentor?

Plenty of people. I’ve learned a lot from all my fellow writers here on Tumblr/Discord, some writing, and some general life. I learn a lot from my immediate family, and my best friend. 

Q: What has been your most memorable writing project?

I’ve got several. My stories are my worlds. My original novel is pretty near and dear and I could probably recite some of the scenes to you because I’ve had to sit and edit and read them so much (it’s a trilogy, but only 1 is published). I also have a weird story that’s turned into two novels, but it’s like a HUGE crossover fic with tons of original characters, and it’s really memorable because it’s basically a long ass role play between one of my friends and myself and it’s evolved into this whole universe that I just love. As far as fics go -- Three’s Company - I dictated most of the story to my husband on one of our road trips. I talked, he wrote. It was my first ever fan fic, and it was poly which was pretty daunting. I love Closing Time and Hard Headed. I have an unfinished fic right now which is very long but it’s memorable. Curious Conundrum was great because I never thought I’d write Sherlock then I found myself wanting to crawl inside the universe. Decisions, Decisions was really fun and interesting to write.

Q: What does your writing path look like, from the earliest days until now?

Well, my first works were three novels, then I wrote that fanfic/crossover/original piece I was talking about, then I started fan fic. I miss novel writing. You can be more specific, and I don’t have to stick to a canon. I can toy with rules and the universe in that story. No matter what though, I feel like I always try to develop a full story -- where are these characters from, where are they headed, and how do they get there? I always try to hit every plot hole and angle. I frequently pace and talk aloud saying things like “okay, I can have them wind up here, and that’s how X would happen -- but, why wouldn’t they just call the person? why are they there?” it’s a lot of back and forth, with myself, lol Or i breakdown and consult Discord and the lovely folk that reside there

Q: What is your favorite part about writing?

Setting up the storyline. It’s so exciting to see how certain things can reconnect,t things i didn’t even plan on connecting. To watch a story unfold is great. Then, to write a scene I’ve been chomping at the bit to write. 

Q: What does a typical day look like for you?

Well it’s constantly changing. I don’t have a set schedule and i never force myself to write. I know Stephanie Meyer said that she wrote every day, even if it was just one word, but I can always tell that when my writing feels forced, the content is lacking. If i’m not in the mood to write, I don’t. and if inspiration hits me, I try to record it -- if i’m in class, i jot it down on a notebook or whatever. So I don’t follow some strict schedule because my life just doesn’t allow for that. I’m a full time student who runs a family and household so I just can’t dedicate time to writing just to “do it”.

Q: What does your writing process look like?

1) I have to have an outline, or at least a start of one. i need to know where they will be going. How do we get from point A, to point B, to point C, etc. I prefer a full outline before writing, but sometimes I find if i have a loose outline and I just jump in, the rest of the story just builds itself

2) I only post once a story is finished

3) I ask someone to beta, at least one person I trust

4) I typically do better if I can focus. I usually write really well between 10-pm and 3 am. I used to write a work because my work was kind of slow and I could write between things, and no one was there to bother me

Q: What’s the best advice you’ve gotten?

Not sure... Other than maybe instead of saying, “He was angry” you say “His jaw clenched while his fist closed tightly, white knuckling.” So the whole explain what’s going on, rather than just telling them. 

Q: What’s the biggest lesson you’ve learned?

If you aren’t feeling it, don’t push it. forcing yourself to write when you have writers block doesn’t do anyone any good. If you’re stuck on a story, don’t push it. Think about it for a while, if nothing comes, let it go and see if random inspiration strikes while you’re off doing something else; dwelling on it pretty much never helps

Q: What advice would you give someone who wants to start writing?

Try to finish your stories before posting - otherwise you may face pressure or stress to finish a story from your readers, and it’s hard enough to face your own demands, let alone an audiences. Plus you may not finish it and now people are disappointed 

Write for YOU. Not what you think people will like, not what you think they’ll accept, not what you think they want to read. Write what you would want to read. 

Don’t ever be discouraged. It takes a LOT of time to build a “fan base”. Just keep writing for you and putting your work out there and someone will pick it up.

Reblog - not constantly, but once or twice a day at different times

Take breaks -- even if it’s been a month and you have writers block - that’s okay. 

Consult with a beta, or 2 or 3. If you’re just starting out, find a writer whose work you like, and ask if they will beta. Or join Discord (with a writing channel) and ask for a beta there. If you’re just starting, get more than 1. People beta differently. Some just look for spelling and grammar. Some tell you if there are plot holes. Some will just come in and overhaul your grammar, syntax, word usage. Some can tell you if it’s too fast. Some can tell you if a scene or a sentence doesn’t make sense. Don’t be afraid of criticism from your beta. Chances are, they aren’t being an asshole or a dick, they’re telling you “this shit needs fixed” and it’s better to fix it with your beta/editor than for your audience to point it out, or get turned off and not read your work....

Make sure you have formatting down -- New paragraph when someone else is speaking ALWAYS. Comma in dialogue if there is a dialogue tag (For instance: “I watered the dog,” he said. VS. “I watered the dog.” He then walked into the bathroom.) The first one was a comma because it’s a whole statement and you’re explaining HOW they said something. The second one, his action of walking into the bathroom had NOTHING TO DO with the statement he made. 

Tagging: @carryonmyswansong @arrow-guy @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @sorryimacrapwriter @thejemersoninferno @malfoysqueen14 @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo

[waypathfinder]

Crimson Lane - Chapter 3 - Dreams and Promises

Moodboard by @ashtyntaytertot  Beta’d by @kathknight and @ashtyntaytertot

Links

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Fanfiction.net

Chapter Text 

Rey awoke in the night, disoriented and confused.

An arm curled around her waist.  Kylo Ren’s arm. The memory rushed back to her. The hairs on her neck prickled with each slow breath he took, his broad chest rising and falling against her back.

She unfurled his arm from her body and placed it before him. His brows twitched at the movement, her breath caught in her throat and she froze. He did not wake.

Outside, the moon was breaking a path through the dark overcast sky. She crept out of bed, walking towards the window, her naked form silhouetted against the streaming moonlight. The street was empty now, loose sheets of a newspaper flittered along the pavement beneath the bright lamplight. There were no cars other than the few parked by the road and not a single soul wandered the lonely streets. It was eerily quiet, the silence only broken by sudden gusts of winds that moaned in strained cries and churned up the leaves into whirlwinds.

“Don’t go.”

Rey’s heart jolted at the sound of his voice. She turned around to see his ash-white body lit up beneath the waning moon.

“I’m not—” She stopped to look at him. His eyes were racing beneath pale lids, face grimacing and tightening as different expressions chased each other. He was asleep. His fingers twitched, reaching for the spot on the bed that was still warm from her body.

She returned to his side, leaning in close to study him. He was light and darkness. Every feature in contrast to the other. He was all shadows and lines, pointed cheekbones, angled jaw, soft lips, long lashes. His dark hair cascaded across his face parting around his large ears. He was ugly from one angle. Beautiful from the other. But striking and captivating.

“Please,” his voice cracked into a chilling whisper. She shivered at the sound.

“Kylo?” she whispered back, touching his shoulder, but there was no response.

His hand reached forward again, searching the sheets. He looked so alone. It reminded her of all the times she had spent the night cold and lonely, shivering beneath a summer blanket on a winter evening. Tears lashing from her eyes knowing there was no one there to help her, to hold her hand, to save her from her nightmares.

She crept back into bed. Her body folded into the curve of his own and his arm found her again. She felt safe in his hold, momentarily wanted in this world by someone. It was an illusion, of course, a twisted painful lie, but still, at that moment she imagined what it was like to be loved. Her chest heaved unsteadily at the thought, and she allowed herself to drift back to sleep.

Her mind fell into dreams, dark shadows dragging her back into the past, dragging her into a world she’d struggled so hard to leave behind her every day.

She was lying on the floor of the lounge room, one of the many lounge rooms she had called her own for a time. The Moroccan rug was worn, she remembered, patches of it frayed. She pulled at a thread, wishing in her dream she could unravel it and she would fall through the ground into a better place. She pulled and pulled at the thread, a burgundy bind that would not break no matter how hard she yanked. It went on for miles, and she wondered what lay on the end.

Then he was behind her, the man who haunted her dreams almost every night. His face hidden behind a shadow of darkness. He chased her through the rooms of an abandoned house. Always too close.  Always hindering her escape. He grabbed her hair and yanked her back. And now she was on the floor, curled in a ball. 

She jolted awake.

Thump! This time she wasn’t dreaming. Kylo thrashed behind her, arms and legs trapped in their own nightmare. And then a low groan, a guttural noise that chilled her blood. He shot up, his legs kicking over the side of the bed, hands wringing through his hair. Rey reached for his back.

Her fingers made contact, and his breath caught. His skin was hot to touch, glistening with sweat.

“It’s okay.” She sat behind him, touching his shoulder uncertainly. “It was just a nightmare. I have them too.”

He didn’t respond, but his breathing resumed, slower but still unsteady as his shoulders trembled beneath her touch.

“It’s okay,” she said again in a hushed tone, her fingers circling his back in slow caressing turns. There was something painfully raw about the way he sat there, naked in the moonlight the words forming in her chest. Despite the night before, despite everything in this crazy situation. She knew the pain of haunted dreams, she knew what it was like to run away from your past during the day only to have it catch up with you in the night. It never went, not really. She had tried to bury her past, but it never died.

Rey cupped her fingers over his shaking shoulders, and he stilled at her touch, his skin prickled in goosebumps. His hand reached to her own, long fingers covering her.

“You’re not alone.” She didn’t mean to say it, but the words pried themselves from her lips, given a life of their own.

He stood, hand slipping away from hers.

“Go back to sleep.” His words were sharp, a commanding edge that made her think he was used to ordering people about.

“What are you…” Her words drifted away. He was pulling his trousers on in a rush, his shirt, once crumpled on the floor, now sliding onto his back as his fingers moved clumsily to fasten them. “You’re leaving?”

Silence.

“But you still have a couple of hours left,” she said, her eyes and cheeks growing hot as the words left her lips. She wanted nothing more to curl up on a ball on the floor. It was bad enough being paid for having sex with someone, but having them walk out without even… She shuddered. It was so much worse. “We can go again, here let me…”

“I’m done.” He picked up the rest of his belongings and walked out the door, leaving Rey alone in the bed, naked and confused.

There were voices from the foyer. Furtive, pressing, voices exchanged in low hisses. She stood atop the stairs, her hand reaching for the polished mahogany banister, her foot dangling above the step below, toying with the idea of going down.

“Yes, of course, Mr Ren,” Phasma was saying, working hard to placate him, her voice accentuating every word.

More words from him. Inaudible. Sharp. Rude. Rey’s cheeks tingled. What was he saying about her? She took a step lower, rolling the soles of her feet to make sure the steps didn’t creak at the sound. The conversation continued.

“I can assure you I went through the rules. I will book you in with a different girl next month,” she grabbed the planner, tapping her pen against it in a staccato rhythm. “How about Tessa?”

Kylo spoke. His words still rude. Still sharp. Still inaudible. Rey took a breath and another step, straining to listen.

“Yes, it is unacceptable,” Phasma said testily. “It was only her first night. It was wrong of me to pair her with you.”

She stepped again, the slightest creak, as her toes touched the next level, but it wasn’t loud enough to draw their attention.

“What do you mean it was her first night?” His voice was louder now; she could feel the anger in his words. Rey took one more step closer, her last one, she swore to herself. “Is she not a sex worker?”

“She’s just a kid who’s gotten in over her head with debt,” Phasma said with a cruel curl of her lips. Rey bristled at the “kid” reference. She was 22 and had been doing it tough on her own since she was 16. Hardly a fucking kid who had just forgotten to pay off her Visa card. She clutched the railing, stopping herself from doing or saying anything rash. She was on the edge of being fired.

Phasma continued: “Tonight was her first shift. I wanted to her to get practice in before Snoke—”

“No Snoke.” He interrupted her brusquely, raising a hand to silence her.

“Mr Snoke will want to try her out.”

“When is he due to come?”

Rey risked another step closer.

Phasma checked her planner, tapping her finger on a point within the pages. “Friday.”

“Book her with me on Friday,” he blurted in that same commanding tone.

Phasma pursed her lips tightly.“ Mr Snoke will not be happy.”

“I don’t care. Book for the full-night again. No other clients that night.”

Rey swore in her head. The mere thought of going through tonight again was… She didn’t know what it was, perplexing, uncomfortable, confronting and just plain weird.

Phasma sighed. “Very well, booking for Desert Flower. It will cost you though.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? After tonight I shouldn’t have to pay a cent,” Kylo spat, and Rey flushed.

“I said I was sorry about that,” Phasma said and checked the planner once more. “She’s on the next couple of nights. I’ll get her up to speed by Friday.”

“Fine.” Kylo glowered, tossing his credit card at her as though it were nothing. Rey risked one more step, but this time his eyes snapped up at her. She quickly retreated, but it was too late; he had seen her.

“Charge it through to Friday.”

“I beg your pardon?” Phasma asked incredulously.

What?  Rey froze, darting her eyes back at him in disbelief.

“Every night through to Friday,” he added, not taking his eyes off her and having no shame to turn them away from her.

“There’s no discount, you know? It’s still $400 an hour.” Rey did the maths in her head. By the end of the week…  shit by the end of the week she would have paid off just under half of her debt, or at least the first installment, but that was all she could focus on.

“Fine. I’m out-of-town tomorrow but don’t have her fucking anyone else. Completely block her out,” he said, again with that authoritative tone.

Phasma sighed again, her lips pressing even tighter together. “Fine. She’s off limits. No bookings.”

Rey had made it to the top of the steps now, stopping just out of a view, her heart flipped.

“Now give her a copy of those fucking rules and make sure she can recite them blind by the time I come back,” he said loudly, to both of them Rey suspected.

“Yes, Mr Ren.”

“And Phasma?” He paused. Rey closed her eyes, dreading whatever would come next. “Buy the girl some fucking lube.”

[boricuamermaid]

marisa & rj’s rom recs / winter edition

a few months ago marisa @liambaeyne and i started a little, two-person book club of sorts. we started reading the same books--the majority, if not all, featuring women of color as the main characters--and talking about them via literally any outlet we could find (texts, tumblr posts, messages). we went back and forth giving each other recommendations and opening each other up to new sub-genres within the romance genre. basically, this little book club has been one of the best things about this year and we wanted to share that happiness with y’all.

content warning: most of these books are pretty steamy and contain explicit sex scenes.

legend

C - contemporary romance

H - historical romance

YA - young adult

Italics - Rj’s favorites

Bold - Marisa’s favorites

Both - both of our favorites

Books Marisa & I Have/Are Reading

Insert Groom Here by K.M. Jackson - C; a scandal triggers a Bachelorette-esque reality tv show

To Me I Wed by K.M. Jackson - C; event planner and restaurant owner try to keep things light as she makes plans to marry herself, but things keep getting more and more intense

The Betting Vow by K.M. Jackson - C; a model-turned-actress wants to be taken seriously, a tv producer just wants the model-turned-actress

Love On My Mind by Tracey Livesay - C; ceo of a tech company, pr executive, and a lie on a mountaintop

Along Came Love by Tracey Livesay - C; pregnancy, jail, and what happens when someone has a family for the first time

Love Will Always Remember by Tracey Livesay - C; two brothers, amnesia, and more secrets than they know what to do with

Take the Lead by Alexis Daria - C; an alaskan survivalist and a city girl get paired up for a dance competition

Acting On Impulse by Mia Sosa - C; personal trainer trying to forget her high profile ex and an actor trying to avoid detection in aruba

Forbidden by Beverly Jenkins - H; Set during the Reconstruction Era. Eddy Carmichael sets off on an adventure to start her own restaurant in California, but the adventure is temporarily derailed in the middle of the Nevada desert when her life is saved by Rhine Fontaine, a successful man living his life passing for White. As a connection builds between them, the racial divide implied by the different colors of their skin and the life Rhine’s built for himself become threatened...and both must decide if the reward is worth the risk.

Breathless by Beverly Jenkins - H; RJ has gotten me into historical romances now and Beverly Jenkins knows where it’s at. Breathless follows the eldest niece of Eddy and Rhine from Forbidden, Portia Carmichael, a determined bookkeeper who is avoiding suitors like her life depends on it because her entrepreneur dreams leave her with no plans to marry. But suddenly, her life becomes reacquainted with an old friend of Rhine’s, former bartender/medical-student-turned-cowboy, Kenton Randolph, and well...the best laid plans...

Talk Sweetly to Me by Courtney Milan - H; shy mathematician meets scandal waiting to happen

Rj’s Read and Rec

An Extraordinary Union by Alyssa Cole - H; Civil War, spies, and forbidden love

Agnes Moor’s Wild Knight by Alyssa Cole - H; 1490s, tournament where the prize is a kiss

Daughters of a Nation: A Black Suffragette Historical Romance Anthology by Lena Hart, Piper Huguley, Kianna Alexander, and Alyssa Cole - H; four very different stories set between 1861 and 1917; long-lost loves, strikes, carpenters, and cabarets

To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before series by Jenny Han - YA; a sixteen-year-old writes love letters that she never expected anyone to send

The Weight of Feathers by Anne-Marie McLemore - YA; rival families, mermaids, birds in the queen of ya magical realism’s first book with the most beautiful prose i’ve ever read

Rj’s TBR

Dance With Me by Alexis Daria - C; book two in the Dance Off series

Hamilton’s Battalion by Rose Lerner, Courtney Milan, and Alyssa Cole - H

A Summer for Scandal by Lydia San Andres - H

When the Moon Was Ours by Anne-Marie McLemore - YA

Rj’s Preorders

A Princess in Theory by Alyssa Cole - C; “...the tale of a city Cinderella and her Prince Charming in disguise.” #sold

A Hope Divided by Alyssa Cole - H; book two in her Loyal League series

Books 4, 5, 6, and 8 of The Worth Saga by Courtney Milan - H; even though they’re not up for preorder yet but because I know myself: they’re regency romances with woc leads and i love Courtney’s books (obv)

Tempest by Beverly Jenkins - H; the third book in Rhine’s series

Pretending He’s Mine by Mia Sosa - C; the second book in Mia’s Love on Cue series. I just saw Marisa said there’s “faked masturbation for reconnaissance” + the fake dating and i, too, am sold.

Marisa’s Read and Rec

Hate to Want You by Alisha Rai - C; Childhood lovers Nicholas Chandler and Livvy Kane, who carry on a once-a-year affair until the one year they don’t, are reunited when she unexpectedly returns to town. Throw in unresolved feelings, business affairs, and a colorful history that’s driven two families apart and you’ve got the beginning of an intriguing three-book series (the ‘Forbidden Hearts’ series). What I found myself most mesmerized with was the history between the Kane and Chandler families and there are still so many questions I have that I can’t wait to have answered in the two following novels.

Wrong to Need You by Alisha Rai - C; In the second book in Alisha Rai’s ‘Forbidden Hearts’ series, Jackson Kane, Livvy’s twin brother, returns to town after spending years running from the shadows of his past. It’s a quick trip, just to look in on Livvy—or so he tells himself, in denial of another reason worth returning: Sadia Ahmed, his childhood best friend, whose emails to him have gone unanswered for years. Sadia, who he’s been in love with since they were teenagers...who is also his brother Paul’s widow. Sadia, a single mother now, struggles to keep the café that’s been in the Kane family for decades afloat, and when Jackson returns unexpectedly and offers to help after the departure of her cook, Sadia is reluctant to agree. But with her hands full juggling two jobs and her son, Kareem, she needs the help, and despite the hurt and anger she feels, she needs Jackson more than she’s ready to admit. The second novel in this series is my favorite thus far—we dive deeper into the secrets bottled up between the Chandlers and the Kanes, and passion builds through the recount of history and reconnection between two friends who probably always should’ve been more. The history between the Kanes and the Chandlers remains as intriguing as ever even after this second novel, and I can’t wait for the final book in the series!

Vivid by Beverly Jenkins - H; Nate Grayson’s life is thrown off-course when the new doctor coming to set up practice in his little Michigan town, Dr. V. Lancaster, whom he assumes to be a man, turns out to be Dr. Viveca Lancaster—a woman. This book was so! good! Start to finish, a solid read with really great characters. Viveca—Vivid, to her family—had me rooting for her from the very start. Spirited and challenging and unwilling to bend to the ignorance of men who think only men should be doctors (Nate Grayson included), Vivid keeps Nate and the folks of Grayson Grove on their toes as she works to prove herself as a doctor...and comes to share more with Nate Grayson that either of them anticipates.

Jewel by Beverly Jenkins - H; We return to Grayson Grove, this time the focus on Eli Grayson, Nate’s cousin. Eli, a man of the news, finds himself with the great opportunity to get his newspaper up and running again, only there’s a small caveat—the man offering him the chance only sinks his faith into men who are married. Eli, unmarried and a known lothario (“The Colored Casanova of Cass County,” he’s been called) with a past he’s not necessarily proud of, thinks quick on his feet and asks a favor of Jewel Crowley—to pose as his wife! Add a fake marriage (or is it fake?) and throw in some mystery and murder as an old and unwanted face blows back into town, and you’ve got a novel I couldn’t help but breeze through.

Marisa’s TBR

Between a Rock and a Hot Mess by Phyllis Bourne - C

Dance With Me by Alexis Daria - C; the second in the Dance Off series. RJ and I both read the first book in this series and LOVED it, so I immediately preordered the second after finishing the first (and if I recall, she messaged me saying she basically did the same thing).

Marisa’s Preorders

Hurts to Love You by Alisha Rai - C; the third book in the Forbidden Hearts series

Pretending He’s Mine by Mia Sosa - C; the second book in Mia’s Love on Cue series. I read the preview as well as the book description and there’s fake dating and faked masturbation for reconnaissance involved, and I was sold.

Tempest by Beverly Jenkins - H; the third book in Rhine’s series

[thisweekingundamwing]

This Week in Gundam Wing: October 22nd - 28th

Happy Sunday Gundam Wing Fandom!

We have tons of super awesome things for you to check out this week!  Many many thanks to those who submitted and tagged us in content - it makes our job so much easier! The fandom is growing, and being part of that is a privilege and job to watch, but it does sometimes make it hard to keep up!  If you’ve created something we missed, please feel free to let us know so we can feature you too!

Remember, if you find something you love, please please make sure you let the creator know how much you enjoyed it!  Every little comment/like/reblog goes a long way towards fueling their desire to do more!  

Thank you for all that you do, and keep submitting your great content to us!

This update was delayed by the Great Tumblr Crash of 2017, please accept our apologies!

-Mod CB

Below the cut!

Fanfiction:

(please take note of any warnings within the fics themselves, do not rely on this list as exhaustive)

@amberlyinviolet​, @yourbloodlikewine

In This Light, Chapter 3: Eli

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12386715/chapters/28402484

Duo x OC, Trowa x OC, Solo x OC. AU, child abuse mention, Sexual Assault Mention, homophobic parents, Re-Written Characters, Drug Use, Violence, off screen murder

Duo spent the last semester working in his older brother's coffee shop. He's resigned himself to a boring spring when a stranger appears, shaking up his entire life.Eli left home last fall, choosing to spend the last six months living out of his van on his travels from the Midwest to the East Coast. By the time he arrives at Ink's, the novelty of traveling alone has started to wear off. Still, the last thing he's expecting is to meet someone who's going to change all that for him

@anaranesindanarie​

Never Forget to Breathe

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12462762/chapters/28362603

2+5, 3x4, 1xR. 

Accident, motorcycle, Drunk Driver, Injury, Recovery, Physical Therapy, Pain, Depression, Anger, Self-Hatred

An accident leaves him with a new outlook on life. After a long recovery period, he decides to travel the world, eventually settling down in a small college town to peruse a degree or three. There he runs into an old friend who he hasn't seen in years.

@chronicwhimsy

Saudade, Chapter 12: Fővárosi Nagycirkusz

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11352189/chapters/28440536

Eventual 3x4, 2+3 bromance throughout

Everyone is fed up of Trowa being useless so they take matters into their own hands. Trowa doesn’t handle it well.

@claraxbarton

This Feeling, Chapter 1

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12520764

2x6, eventual 2x3x6, slow burn, post canon, angst

A dozen years after the wars, Trowa is still trying to find a place for himself. A glimpse into the lives of Duo Maxwell and Zechs Merquise makes him wish for things he had never before considered.

@cosmostar​

Desire Told In Colors, Chapter 16: Navy (Now Complete)

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11227302/chapters/28488556

Zechs x Noin. AU, from sex to love, canon het relationship, heterosexual sex, unplanned pregnancy, violence, torture

"There were kisses printed all over his shirt, some playfully smeared, some carefully stamped, some surpassing touching his collarbone, too many for not being remembered. With a swift movement, he pulled off the shirt and found a message written on the back, the lipstick so red it made him think of blood: 'Call me.'" A 2017 Summer of Zechs submission. Color prompts. 

@cynfinnegan​

Omnibus, Chapter 5

http://archiveofourown.org/works/7373635/chapters/28558204

3x4

Another piece of Shatter Me inspired by a writing prompt.

Note that this fic is a collection of smaller bits, so please note individual chapter pairings and warnings.

@fadedsepia

SPF

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12532780

2x3x5, beach, one shot, innuendo, nudist!Wufei

Wufei, Trowa, and Duo discuss sunburn and beachwear.

Kaiser Chris

Fall of the Lightning Count

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12692159/1/Fall-of-the-Lightning-Count

Zechs Merquise the Lightning Count, a legendary MS Ace and hero of OZ. In July of AC 195, Zechs chose to commit treason against OZ, defying the Romefeller Foundation for honor in order to duel a Gundam. What Zechs did not predict that others would find fault with his actions, and strike him down for consorting with the Gundams. A mistake that cost him his life. (AU miniseries)

@kangofu-cb

Belonging

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12473872

1x2x5. Kinktober entry. PWP. Double penetration. Threesome

Heero and Duo help Wufei relax after a rough day at work.

Reflection

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12527160

2x?, Kinktober entry, mirrors, lingerie, mild kink, pwp, rimming

Duo comes home to a much-appreciated surprise.

LittleMouse

Warcraft, Chapter 2: Waking to Us

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12429339/chapters/28489976

AU, fantasy

Alternate Fantasy World - A world where people have ‘Talents’ that allow them to control certain elements. Different Talents can ‘Join’ to become a specific entity - some can heal, some can repair damage to land and buildings, some are weapons. The Talents you ‘Join’ with are called your Others. The perfect Joining is of five separate Talents. One lonely Fire Talent far to the North has given up waiting for his Others - good thing they haven’t stopped looking for him.

Lord Raa

Heero Sandwhich

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12594063/1/Heero-Sandwich

Nobody asked for this, especially not Heero Yuy, but here we are all the same. Prepare for a "comedy" with some adult content. If the chapters feel truncated, then you might want to look for a certain Fanfiction Forum on the (dot) net for a more complete experience.

Luvsanime02

Engage, Chapter 1

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12458772/chapters/28352415

Post-Series, Politics, Friendship, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Character Death, Government Upheaval, Language

The time has come for all of their plans to finally start being put into motion. This is the eighth story in Navigation, a fem!Heero series.

The Fullness of One’s Life

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12442440

Sally x Une.  Kinktober entry.  Fluff.  Bathtub sex.

Une takes a bath after a long, difficult day, and Sally joins her.

Back Against The Wall

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12483552

2x3.  Explicit.  Kinktober entry. Exhibitionism.

“We’re just bros being bros and doing something 100% platonic, but somehow we’re turning each other on because of not-so-buried feelings for each other, and we can’t make it stop” sex. Trowa's tired of painting all day, but at least he has a nice distraction in the form of Duo Maxwell.

Tequila Toasts

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12483604

1x2. Kinktober entry.  69. Explicit sexual content.  AU.

Duo's having some bad luck lately, but he'll feel better after hanging out with his ex, Heero Yuy.

With Words and Deeds

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12498892

Une x Treize. Kinktober entry. Mild kink. Mild sexual content.  Boot fetish.

Une is a young woman, and when she puts on the uniform, she's a soldier. To Treize, she is both.

MaryDBlack

Life & Death, Chapter 4

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11788950/chapters/28386924

Duo x Harry, Harry x Tom Riddle, Harry x Voldemort.  Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Soulmates, non graphic sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reincarnation, Harry is Solo

We see a little of who Solo/Harry is/was. Mentions of child abuse.

Maldoror_Chant 

Flayed Horses

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12458172

1x5. Angst.  PTSD. Trauma. Depression.  Suicidal thoughts.

Wufei found Heero a few months after the war had ended and spent over a year helping him find that end of the war for himself. It was...a lot of work. There were still no go zones and things they could not do together as a couple, but a museum should be safe enough-Wufei found Heero a few months after the war had ended.The war had ended. Ended. Ended.never ends never ends never ends never ends never ends never ends

The Arrangement, Chapter 39: The Distance Between Need and Want, Part II

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12131427/chapters/28523116

1x5. Veeery long fic ahoy, Not a romance per se, sex and violence, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Angst and Humor, Preventer missions, war-time missions, mature themes, mentions of torture, background threesome, communication and emotions are for pansies as far as the main character is concerned

Wufei, struggling with his demons, agrees to a wartime fling with Heero, no affection needed or wanted. But the 'arrangement' lasts and grows as they join the preventers. It could become a source of strength for both. If they let it.

The Source of all Things, Chapter 8: Intersection, Part I

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12121344/chapters/28556848

3x4, eventual 2x5, eventual 1x2x5. Science Fiction, Fantasy, Plot Twists, fairly graphic depiction of sex, Mild description of self-harm, Mathematical Magic, weird science, crones - Freeform, Magic and Technology brawling and eventually screwing, Eventual Threesome, Kinda, Insanity of arcane origin, The universe is a pile of marbles and other dubious allegories

Center, a planet where magic and technology blend. Or more accurately, fight tooth and nail. A planet of Sources, holes in our boring dimension letting through arcane power, chaos and pseudo-deities. In this hot-house of myths and very real dangers, Trowa and Quatre find a mysterious man at the end of a shamanic voyage. Portents suggest this Heero Yuy is crucial to Center’s survival. He’s important enough to have some interesting enemies after him, at any rate: a devious killer and thief called ‘Shinigami’, and a very irate Dragon. Beyond them looms an even greater threat. Indeed, the greatest of them all.

Megumi_L1

Mission Accepted: A Gundam Wing Fanfic, Chapter 7

http://archiveofourown.org/works/7682083/chapters/28450684

1xR. Love's Calling, Dangerous Deeds, Mild Language, Non-Explicit Sex,Low Violence

One year had gone by since the last time they had seen each other face to face, since the people of Earth and of the colonies had made a true peace with each other.Things had changed. It was safe to walk on the streets again. It was all right to voice one's opinions in public again. It was perfectly okay to live.But Heero had always been suspicious of this new existence. It was too peaceful. Those suspicions had led him to a new path, a new adventure, and the young woman next to him, wanting a break from her predictable new life, had decided to join him on that path....

Murshmallow

Mountebank

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12453362/1/Mountebank

AC 205- 25 year old Heero Yuy has been living comfortably in space for the past 5 years as an engineer named Dr. Odin Lowe Jr., heading the life support effort for the Mars Terraformation Project. When he is arrested for the disappearance of Foreign Minister Relena Darlian, he must prove his innocence, while tracking down the person responsible, from behind bars. 

NEW *M* RATING

Dossier

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12449464/1/Dossier

Heero Yuy had spent time soul searching. He had spent time trying to be human. When his birth certificate is handed to him on a harddrive, he may have to do it all again. [1xR]

Mythical Rose

Andromeda, Chapter 1

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12482704/chapters/28413824

1x2, 3x4, 5x6. 

Five years ago Heero Yuy and Duo Maxwell met, fell in love and married. Three years of happiness was thrown away when Duo thought Heero had cheated on him. Now two years later, they meet again on the Battlestar Andromeda where Duo is Commander. Sent on a mission together, will they find their love is still there or will saving Earth finally tear them apart.

nagi_schwarz

Unknown Roads Lead Away from Home

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12528300

Stargate and Supernatural crossover. Part 23 of the Good Hunting series.  Dark, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction

Rodney and the team's progress toward opening the gates of Atlantis is sidetracked by a child asking for food.

Nemesis13

The Trials and Tribulations of a High Society Shinigami

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12690364/1/The-Trials-and-Tribulations-of-a-High-Society-Shinigami

Duo was a very caring woman, an open book so to speak, always there to help those that needed it with a smile on hand. The problem was she was surrounded by insane men who needed to be watched over like kids and her fellow women left her to it. Resigning herself to being the team mom Duo did her best, but she hadn't planned on Heero admitting he loved her. Things are weird now…

@noelleian​

Leather and Cream, Chapter 1

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12488244/chapters/28427404

3x4, 1x2x3x4x5. Fivesome - M/M/M/M/M, Smut, BDSM, Fluff and Smut, Sex Toys, Spanking, Rough Sex, Restraints, Pet Names, Aftercare, Rimming, Crack Treated Seriously, Dom/sub Play

In a strangely Freudian fashion, the purpose of such an experience was to know your own mortality. To knock the human ego down a few pegs and remind yourself that no, you are not infallible. To feel the terror of losing control while hidden safely behind a fortress built from steel and mortar. It was like staring Death straight in the eyes and knowing that it wasn't your time. Your body, your life, your soul, placed in the hands of those who would lay down their own to protect them.It was, to put it bluntly, the best of both worlds.

Relena For President

Civil Wars

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12500874/1/Civil-Wars

A.C. 210. Four years after the end of his marriage, Heero Yuy finds himself on a familiar, destructive path. Will it lead to redemption, or pure revenge? [1xR/broken pairing]

Red Moon Rise

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12593127/1/Red-Moon-Rise

A.C. 213. Heero and Relena are reunited after months apart and, at long last, planning a future together. But, as all too often with this fated pair, complications never fail to arise... Sequel to "Red Moon Glow."

@renmaxwell​, @shinigami-of-excellence​

We Don’t Belong, Chapter 3

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12353439/chapters/28336371

Alliance won AU, gundam pilots lost, oz lost, white fang lost, just everyone lost except the alliance, Sexual Slavery, Pedophilia, because let's be real these pilots are still 15, Forced Prostitution, Forced Sex, yes i'll tag them when they happen, Quatre isn't a sissy, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, romefeller is a huge player here, angst for YEARS, just so much angst, Dark, Execution, Alternate Universe - Dark

A look into Wufei's new life, with a terrible surprise. The one who would long to be his savior is now just like him and forced into despicable actions. When the would-be savior fails to even do that, torturous punishments follow.

This chapter contains graphic descriptions of rape

Relena’s Glam Squad

The Edge of Oblivion

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10163755/1/The-Edge-of-Oblivion

Heero Yuy returns after a 10-year absence, and much has changed. Meanwhile, the abandonment of large scale weapons didn't end all wars. All it did was lead to the rise of new weapons. Biochemical ones. When that happens, even the best kept secrets can have deadly consequences. [Rating has been changed for violence and adult themes]

Shadow-Hawk2

Imperial Guard

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/12559874/1/Imperial-Guard

Duo Maxwell is trapped in another part of the galazy far from all that he knows and the woman he loves.  He must learn to survive among primitive violent people and accept that he may never be able to return to Earth.

Shini02

Connect the Space Between, Chapter 2: Salvage

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12462054/chapters/28361337

AU, Crossover with Transformers

One man's trash is another's treasure.

Strawberrywaltz

The Forgotten, Chapter 13 (Now Complete)

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11686344/chapters/28344810

1x4, past 3x4, implied rape/non-con, amnesia, abuse

The entire universe thinks that Quatre Winner is dead, but when Heero starts having strange black-outs he begins to realize the rumors of Quatre's death might not be true.

Sylvieforaday

They Say it was a Concussion, Chapter 10

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12347688/chapters/28382840

2x6. AU. Surgeon Zechs.  Dancer Duo.

Duo takes a spill and Zechs is just what the doctor ordered.

Moving On

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12529256/chapters/28531688

2x5. Angst,  Hurt/Comfort, eventual smut, mention of past sexual abuse, past character death

Duo is trying to find his place in his own world without his crutch - Heero Yuy.

Synthesis

Soldier of OZ: Walker’s Account

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7977074/1/Soldier-of-OZ-Walker-s-Account

In AC 195, five Gundams come to Earth in Operation 'M', testing the strength, virtue and intelligence of officers and soldiers of the world's armed forces. After failing his first encounter, one ex-engineer has a chance at a better outcome, and takes it. An effort to reconcile 'Gundam Wing' with 'The Glory of Losers', from the perspective of those in OZ.

TheManwell

May Demons Rest, Chapter 29: The Contract, and Chapter 30: Cleansing

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10944786/chapters/28475736

2x3, post-canon, bad language, underage drinking, suicidal thoughts

A re-write of my 2004 fanfic "Shinigami Sleeps" - To find and free Duo from his demons, Trowa leaves his uneventful life at the circus for the mean streets of an obscure colony in L2.

Snippets

@amberlyinviolet​

https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/amberlyinviolet/166746291404

@claraxbarton​

http://claraxbarton.tumblr.com/post/166786678750/wip-wednesday-from-an-angsty-hopefully-smutty

@kangofu-cb​

https://kangofu-cb.tumblr.com/post/166802586037/wip-wednesday

https://kangofu-cb.tumblr.com/post/166856627484/happy-hour-so-claraxbarton-suggested-cocktail

https://kangofu-cb.tumblr.com/post/166764577257/youve-been-fic-tagged-share-a-few-lines-from-a

@lifeaftermeteor​ :

https://lifeaftermeteor.tumblr.com/post/166894505417/an-these-next-few-take-place-over-the-course-of 

 https://lifeaftermeteor.tumblr.com/post/166749934674/spoilers-lam-next-gen-pt1

 https://lifeaftermeteor.tumblr.com/post/166749950869/spoilers-lam-next-gen-pt2

https://lifeaftermeteor.tumblr.com/post/166749982359/spoilers-lam-next-gen-pt3

https://lifeaftermeteor.tumblr.com/post/166654396842/winner-family-compound-outskirts-of-douz-tunisia

@maevemauvaise

http://maevemauvaise.tumblr.com/post/166895175271/youve-been-fic-tagged-share-a-few-lines-from-a

@vegalume

http://vegalume.tumblr.com/post/166797758640/wip-wednesday

Fanart

@alpha2nd2006​

http://alpha2nd2006.tumblr.com/post/166498596662/inktober-day-17 Inktober Pilots Mashup - Clothing Swap

@drkstars-art​

https://drkstars-art.tumblr.com/post/151774942317/inktober2016-number-13-ive-been-wanting-to-draw Grown Up Cathy

@gundamwing-ellesmith​

http://gundamwing-ellesmith.tumblr.com/post/166872401739/voyeurism-dx1-theres-a-story-behind-this-which-i DX1 NSFW 'Storyboard' art

@jamyuyu​

http://jamyuyu.tumblr.com/post/166774279087/get-u-a-girl-who-can-do-both-inktober2016-with Inktober Relena

@landoftherisingspark​

https://landoftherisingspark.tumblr.com/post/166586179885/day-322-theres-nothing-deeper-to-choosing Gundam Wing inspired military garb

@lighteningavenger​

http://lighteningavenger.tumblr.com/post/166722654853 OC drawing for @gwoc-october​

@looklingart​

http://looklingart.tumblr.com/post/166612238149/request-im-always-here-for-anything-duo-duo-x Duo and Quatre

@noromax​

https://lbro009.tumblr.com/post/166874263965/cynfinnegan-noromax-gwepisode50-noromax fanart of unnamed canon character “Hamilton”

@outofworkshinigami

http://outofworkshinigami.tumblr.com/post/166672006472/i-needed-a-full-ref-of-my-treize-so-here-you-go Treize reference

@pawedprints​

http://pawedprints.tumblr.com/post/166690000118/inktober-day-22 Inktober Relena

@vegalume​

http://vegalume.tumblr.com/post/166871514440/finally-got-off-of-my-procrastinating-posterior Painting of Sally on cardboard

Meta/Headcanons

Duo and dogs: https://lifeaftermeteor.tumblr.com/post/166862137342/additional-thoughts-below-the-cutmore-ive

Pilots’ scars https://gw-ficrecfriday.tumblr.com/post/166544768116/scars

Dr. Jay Null http://the-indomitable-bhg.tumblr.com/post/166698167092

Heero being alone https://lifeaftermeteor.tumblr.com/post/166620174301

Dorothy http://simulacraryn.tumblr.com/post/166896646418/so-yesi-have-a-head-canon-ya-all-know-about

Sweepers https://the-indomitable-bhg.tumblr.com/post/166838833457/the-sweeper-group-and-a-brief-history-of-space

Duo’s memory https://the-indomitable-bhg.tumblr.com/post/166763174897/its-one-of-the-reasons-he-fills-silence-with

Silly Trieze headcanon http://outofworkshinigami.tumblr.com/post/166783624947/this-is-just-a-silly-thought-but-does-anyone-else

Calendar Events

Unnatural November by @gwblockparty

Begins Wednesday, November 1st, and runs the entire month!

A fanworks celebration of all things weird and supernatural.

Participation information here!

AO3 collection here!

Eve War Event by @gw-evewar​

Posting December 23rd - December 24th.

A fanworks Science Fiction event.

Participation information here!

OC October by @gwoc-october

Ends Tuesday, October 31st - don’t forget to get your submissions in!

A fanworks celebration of Original Characters.

Participation information here!

[vonseal]

what im weak for this week

so it’s been two weeks AND I APOLOGIZE FOR THAT!!! next week, i probably won’t actually deliver anything either, as next week is when school starts back up and i need to prep for that!

for now tho, pls enjoy this! its long. 

edit halfway through: ITS VERY LONG. READER BEWARE.

clumsy touch by sarangway

i like fake boyfriends. i really like fake boyfriends. it’s a cliche that i am proud to embrace (tho, tbh, i embrace all the cliches). and who better to write socky fake boyfriend than @revetoile!!! it’s a nice, quick oneshot that i was so happy to read! <3

his ray of sunshine by SummerSnowflake

yet another really short drabble, but OH MY GOSH if it isnt just the cutest fluff you’ll probably ever read in your entire life! i loved reading it, and even if it’s short, it really made my heart all fluttery and warm!

sugar and fluff and all that good stuff by jimblejams

whats not to love about this fic??? it’s got the holy trinity of ships, binu and myungjin and socky, all wrapped up in one deliciously sweet oneshot that i’ve read at least three times since it’s been released. @jakganim came into the fanfic community with a bang, and i hope they never ever ever leave <3

where soil lies, a new beginning blooms by parkjinwoes

i’ve probably already recommended this fic before, but im going to do it again because it is the true love of my life! it’s based off of witchcraft, and i’m honestly still so so happy that @vocalpmh decided to write this for me! the myungjin is adorable, and minhyuk’s deadpan delivery is golden! thank you once again!!!

to kiss a rock by jinwoosmile

i, too, stand by the belief that myungjun would be the best kisser, bc have you seen those lips. this fic, tho, is really really fun. i like the creative ways in which minhyuk has kissed every member, and i like the CUTE SOCKY I LOVE CUTE SOCKY. @jinwoosmile blesses us with her fanfics. (go send her love and encouragement to get through these coming school days!)

im a mom by heybinnie

BOY IF YOU CANT SEE THIS HAPPENING THO. it was such cute fluff!!! i always love the creative ways in which @heybinnie writes; it leaves me melting into a pile of goo and happiness. this one’s a little shorter and features moonbin as the title character and it’s worth every single second of reading.

not an ikea story by Maye_C

@maye-c has always been able to capture myungjun’s dorkiness, childness, and yet maturity (sexiness, too, hOLLA) in her fics and this one just swung right into my heart very very very very quickly. it’s adorable and funny (I LAUGH SO MUCH) and every single bit as perfect as all of mayec’s other works, i love her and her writing!

ferris wheels series by aloharoha

i think i’ve recommended the first one in this series; if not, i definitely should have at this point! binu and ferris wheels and absolute precious fluff and it’s one of my favorite things??? also my sweet anon child wrote it, whom i adore, pls go love on all this writing <3

because it’s you by marojehca

did i like the myungjin at the end??? yes. i did. myungjin trash CONFIRMED. but all in all, this WAS a really fun story, and i’ve definitely been keeping up with it since it first came out. good job, sanha, good job.

take a picture (click, click) by floatingquietly

i believe the tumblr page is @floatingquietlyfic, but correct me if im wrong and just tagged someone random lol. THIS WAS REALLY CUTE! it was soft and nice and i loved reading it ;A; let jinwoo live, he has nasal inflammation 

mahogany by yehetno

@yehetno strikes again! she comes when i least expect it and when i most need it, it’s uncanny. this was really PAINFUL TO READ ACTUALLY it made my heart ache, but we have been gifted with the Happy Ending, and i couldn’t be more excited over that! great binu by a great human being!

the cat’s out of the bag by aloharoha

some more from my sweet anon! she’s such an amazing writer and im always in awe of the works! this socky was definitely no exception; i felt really giddy, and i was cheering BOTH sanha and minhyuk on the entire time. bless the cat for causing our two boys to confess ;D (when will my cats get me a cute boy)

hit me up by lee_dongminhyuk

my star anon has arrived! @lee-dongminhyuk wrote some amazing bullet fics (i’ll recommend those a little further down, getting A03 fics out of the way first!) and then this one is just SO GOOD. also it reads like an actual chat convo, with the topic at hand escaping once or twice before it’s reeled back in. also jinidiot. 

insomnia by parkjinchu

i can relate, dongmin! this is written so well and just so nice and pleasant to read??? but then again ,every single fic from @parkjinchu is my new favorite fic, i swear. it’s like god’s gift to earth lies in mary’s fics. bless u <333

the slushie disaster by Lunapie

i need to keep writing sad socky so luna can keep writing happy socky, AMIRITE, LUNA??? nah fam @moonbinpie SRSLY does have some really cute socky up in this here joint; just two teens being teens in the summer, and i loved reading a nice snapshot into their lives!

i want to keep these feelings forever by junhoonie

i like the socky we have recently. i mean, dont get me wrong, im always myungjin trash, but socky is soft and pure and i need this purity to cleanse my soul. THESE LITTLE CHAPTERS ARE THE MOST PURE OF ALL and i love love reading them <3 @donghyucklees is the incredible driving force behind these fics! 

out of the closet by jimblejams

i requested this. i am so happy i requested this bc i cried when it was published haha im weak. BUT SERIOUSLY, MYUNGJIN WEARING EACH OTHERS’ CLOTHES??? WHAT MORE DO U WANT. jordan strikes again with their amazing writing im going to die.

socky coffee shop au by @jakganim

tagging ur main blog BECAUSE I CAN AND NO ONE CAN TELL ME OTHERWISE (but linking your fic blog so ppl can request, go go go request!). i loved this fic. i would give my life for this fic. it was perfect, from minhyuk’s infatuation to my fave part, jinwoo’s ring (keels over) and i need everyone to read this pronto.

puppy love by @jinwoostro

i love me some domestic astro adopting puppies because of sanha. also hiding puppies bc they’re weak for dogs. come on, it’s the purest premise in the world, written by lanna-kokobanna. 

bowling blues by @maye-c

i think i state every day (and multiple times in here) that im myungjin trash, but i REALLY LOVE just astro familial fics. just fics when they’re ASTRO, when they’re friends, when they’re just enjoying life together! and mayec delivers, once more, something pure and gorgeous! also bowling is hard.

college myungjin by @jakganim

i ghost-requested this. i was ghost-gifted this. tbh i was gifted this, along with the rest of the aroha community. I LOVED IT. I LOVE THIS WRITING SO MUCH AND I HOPE WHEN IM ON MY DEATHBED, JORDAN COMES AND JUST BURIES ME WITH ALL THIS WRITING

kid!myungjin bullet fic by @lee-dongminhyuk (part 2, part 3)

to be honest, i actually teared up at this one. especially part 2. gosh i loved it all but it was so rough sometimes, but it had such a nice, sweet, happy ending and i just wanted to clap and yell really loudly because i loved it so much! thank you for sharing it with me, my sweet star anon!

fashion designer binu by @astrofireworks

this was just complete perfection! it was cute and fun and short and also i am 100%$ behind the myungjin at the end. dO YOU HEAR ME, IM HERE FOR THIS SORT OF QUALITY CONTENT

Updated:

dream come true by TheOrgasmicSeke

THIS LAST CHAPTER HAD ME REELING HOLY COW MYUNGJUN GAVE HIM A HEART

stray romance by Alette

tbh if you havent heard or seen this fic, idk where you’ve been living, but there is GOOD REASON why it’s so popular, i cry

hot-line bin by peachybean

i laughed a lot. dongmin is all cool and composed to bin but he’s a literal mess to jinwoo, perfection!

full bloom by peachybean

I JUST NOW REALIZED ITS THE SAME FANFIC AUTHOR, NO WONDER BOTH FICS ARE SUCH AMAZING FICS

centaurus a by astrobinu

reading this always makes me feel like im floating around in space and clenching my teeth in excitement!

and if you ever have anything you think i need to check out, hit me up with that fic, fams. i dont even care if it’s your own. i check a03 regularly, so if it’s something posted elsewhere, pls let me know!

[olderthannetfic]

Have you heard of Writscrib? If yes, what are your thoughts?

I hadn’t heard of it. I see that there’s an indiegogo. This is some kind of micro-transaction tip jar website for creative people, right?

Are you asking if the people running it are legit? I have no idea. Their pitch seems okay. Or are you asking my opinion as someone who writes a lot of fandom meta? Like... why ask me as opposed to anyone else?

Long story short: Sounds good for original work. Fandom should stay away.

But, hey, I’m always happy to tl;dr, so here goes...

I love that we can now spend our money on the media we actually like, supporting the careers of people we want to see make art. If everyone would stop going to summer blockbusters and spend that $13 for their ticket, $1 for the online booking fee, and $10 for a fucking hot dog and coke on some Patreon or whatever, the media landscape would look very different.*

And it’s not just about what we buy legitimately. Even if you pirate everything, every minute spent on a major media property that disrespects us is a minute not spent on some indie weirdness that might actually cater to us. Your time and your energy are finite. Tumblr is all about paying lip service to also supporting diverse media, but at a certain point, if you’re trying to hold down a job and raise kids and leave the house for your vitamin D needs, it comes down to supporting indie media or diverse media or better creators or whatever your thing is instead of mainstream media.

That said, Writscrib, like anything that involves $$$, is aimed at original works. The content on Tumblr is a lot of reblogging gifsets and posting other fanworks. I don’t know that Writscrib has a lot to offer someone who’s mostly here for the fandom stuff.

If somebody can find an audience that wants to pay them to write meta, fair enough. It’s no different than a movie reviewer being paid for their work. But most fanworks have a complicated relationship with profit. A lot of fan art violates trademarks on logos and such. Fanfic really should not be paid for unless someone is publishing their sequel to a 19thC novel or recouping printer’s fees on a zine. (No, I don’t think zine eds should ever be paid for their time and labor. It’s the cost of the paper/ink/print shop and nothing else. If that fannish labor is to onerous, they should find a new hobby. That’s what the rest of us do.)

Most meta writers, including me, do not produce work that I think deserves pay. It’s not that it’s not enjoyable to read, but it doesn’t have the level of polish or rigor that would make me open my wallet. The same is true for most bloggers. Yeah, somebody might love your photos of your breakfast and your inane ramblings about your day, and that’s their business if they want to pay you, but most of that stuff strikes me as what everybody does on every social media site. I wouldn’t reward one person more than another, personally. Plus, most meta is only worth the discussion it inspires. The more people respond to it on a level playing field, the more interesting the whole becomes for a reader. I guess a micro-transaction website could let you pay commenters, but...

Writscrib might be good for authors who blog as an addition to Patreon. It could be good for indie musicians. I can definitely see the utility for visual artists who produce a lot of studies before embarking on a major piece. It’s entering a crowded marketplace with Patreon well established and lots of creatives having tip jars associated with their major social media accounts on sites everyone already uses. But if Writscrib manages to take off, it could be cool.

However, I think fanworks fandom should stay off of it. Stop asking for tips for your damn fic! Either build a normal career as an author (self published or otherwise) or accept that the time you spend on your hobby is a reward in and of itself. There’s no reason we should pay some of us and not others of us to do fandom shit, and there are plenty of legal reasons why it’s better to avoid it for the majority of fanwork types.

IDK... Was that what you were asking?

*Yeah, I live in obnoxiously expensive cities.