#i started with the intention of writing a Little Shop AU but actually this is set in Prythian

[the-lonelybarricade]

1) yes, I drank water today 2) if the Elucien Monstober porn does kill you I’d gladly resuscitate you 😉

I forgot that I changed my ask button label 😂 I’m so proud of you for drinking water, Anon! UNLIKE SOME PEOPLE

And thank you!! Honestly I’m going to need it 😅 I’ve tragically given way too much plot to something that was just supposed to be mindless porn. It’s over 4K words and still no smut. Now that it’s the last weekend before Halloween, I’m hoping the impeding deadline will trigger my anxiety motivation to get it finished

Here’s a little teaser 👀👀

-

Yes, it was a fortunate thing that Elain was alone this early in the morning. Otherwise, the guards might have seen the silhouette lounging comfortably on the low-hanging branch of the largest oak tree. A man, with one hand tucked lazily beneath his head, the other outstretched toward her.

“Good morning,” Elain chirped to the sleeping figure.

He didn’t respond, which was no surprise to Elain. She stepped closer. The underbrush hissed beneath her feet, as if warning her to keep her distance. Gradually, the silhouette became more distinguished—the proud nose and the full lips, the long vines of hair that spilled over his shoulders and onto his strong chest.

She liked coming here in the mornings, before the light hit, because it was when he looked the most human. When the sun rose, it would illuminate the bark of his skin, the twisted wood of his bicep, the hollow of his just-parted mouth. And she would remember that he was just a tree branch with unnervingly human-like features.

[starzblvd]

Me Espresso.ᐟ

Ellie thinks coffee tastes disgusting, but you taste delicious. Do u guys get my fire references in here, hope you babes enjoy 🍽️ Band!Ellie Bsf!ellie college!au

Hot summer nights while having your knees digging your weight into the carpet floor of your best friends small dorm room was starting to become weekly routine. Making band tees with cheap markers for her band that had its fair amount of supporters, somehow they’d sell out every time they performed. It was probably because there’d only be like 20 shirts that actually looked good enough to put out for sale.

Sitting next to you was Ellie with half of a bun she struggled to keep it together had some strands fall out and onto the back of her neck. You could smell the perfume on her, you convinced her to buy it that one time she’d agreed to come shopping with you. Wanting to be helpful you had to show her the right way to wear it, by spraying it on your wrist to then rubbing it into her collarbone, just to be helpful of course.

Holding up a finished shirt Ellie grins into the cocky face you’ve gotten to love the look of,

“Oh they’re gonna love this,”

“what your 300 Spotify listeners?”

“Ouch,” Ellie looks at you playing heartbroken to then throw the shirt right at your face. It was always banter like this, with the very few times the lines almost blurred to get somewhere further. Staying away gets harder when being with her was so natural.

“Just for that I’m so not coming to your concert tomorrow.”

“Hey hey hey I need my number one fan there, plus we’re getting ice cream after.”

You’d become a groupie to her, always front lining to every concert she was able to catch a venue in, which were basically all bars. When she’d look below to you under the neon lights playing guitar it felt like such a special moment only between you and Ellie. No crowd no other band mates, as if you knew what she was thinking of and that she wanted you too. Some of your plans started to circle around her now that she was being a bit more discovered.

”You aren’t going to talk to your fan girls?”

“Nah, I’d rather spend my time with you. You know?” Staring at each other awkwardly stopped being so awkward when they’d happen so much, it’s was perfectly normal.

And with opportunity you got to be with Ellie you already knew you’d take it. As little as you knew she was wrapped around with whatever you had been involved in too, stuck and feeding off your sweetness like a bee.

June.21.24

Just like every concert you shared your special moment, no one else can say they had Ellie’s direct attention during multiple songs. This time it was more of an outside stage with sand below you. Yellow hued string lights draped above the stage and more along the audience area. The heat was really getting to Ellie, making her glow from sweat. The black T-shirt she picked out only made her condition worse. The face framing bangs she cut herself were sticking to the side of her face.

She wasn’t even singing, but being under your watch scorched her hotter. To save herself from embarrassment she mainly looked down to her guitar playing notes, but she made a mistake looking at you when a lyric of a song she made with you in thought came up.

Tell me you never wanna lose me

Cuz I know when you call you call for me

She might’ve been a little out of it when helping writing the song, but it became too late when Dina saw the scrunched up paper and kept insisting on making it an official song for a newer album.

To you it was just another lyric that was written by anyone but Ellie. If only you knew how much she relates to your desperation to be with you in every way and any position she could. Whether your batting of eyelashes at her was intentional or not her finger slipped making an unplanned squeak slip through.

‘Fuck this is so bad she probably thinks I’m shit at playing now’

Lucky for Ellie it was the final song anyways and she could get far away from the crowd and you. Other people clapped upon their leave and when they finished their set list you knew exactly where to meet her.

”You ever going to do more than eye her when we’re up there?” Dina was putting away the instruments back to take home with help from Jessie.

“What are you even saying I don’t do that,” Ellie scoffs then sits down on a blue deflated bean bag that who knows how long it’s been in this back room.

“Oh you know what I’m talking about, your friend zone is taking longer than your time with Cat.” She crossed her arms waiting for another excuse to why she hasn’t done anything after a continued semi dating friendship since freshman year.

“She’s nothing like Cat that’s why, if I lose feelings for her after getting rejected that’s one thing but losing her completely because I fucked it up is different.” Her constant fear of never getting to be near you again because of some feelings she couldn’t stop screwed her over with overthinking everything.

In her journal it was the same thing, “She liked my shirt today, I don’t want to look weird and over wear it now, but not under wear it now. Unless she’d like to see it more often or maybe she likes my style in general she’d like me in anything?? Fucking hate this gay stuff and whys it so hard.”

One of the two large metal doors swings open with you appearing, with the smile you wore she had engraved into her mind with a hot rod of metal after sketching you a few more times she’d probably ever admit. Ellie got up and cut the short distance and accepted you into her arms trying to not look like a desperate looser that flushes over a simple hug. Her ears clammy hands didn’t make her look exactly so hot and relaxed though.

“You did amazing El’s,”

“You think so?” She lit up into a smile under your praise, no matter how many times you give it to her mind melts.

“Except for the part where she messed up on the bridge.” Ellie shot a quick mean look at Jessie, but he just turned a cold shoulder before turning away.

“At least I didn’t bump into Dina’s drums 10 times,”

While Ellie kept bickering back and forth with Jessie she still held onto you, this felt like an opening to try at doing something.

A kiss on the check seemed harmless and innocent enough to take back in the case Ellie thought it was totally disgusting. Raising your head up towards her cheek nearing the corners of her smile, pressing your lips to a pout Ellie brought her face back in your direction landing the small peck on her lips. Ellie locked in place while you pulled away, not that you wanted to, but felt too embarrassed to start a kiss you didn’t know how to finish.

“El’s ‘m so sorry, you just moved out of nowhere and-“

“No, yeah mistakes happen, it’s chill or whatever,”

Her shit faced expression wasn’t helping the full pink flush saturating deeper on her face. Ellie lowered her head to wipe the bottom of her nose trying to forget the way your lips felt, your lipgloss was still sweet on her and so was the taste of it on her tongue wiping her lips clean.

Now it was your turn to feel scared and conflicted. It was too silent in the room even with the chatter of everyone else doing their own things outside. Taking back the small kiss wasn’t so easy now that it was done and got taken up a notch further.

She dropped her arms from both of your sides, looking away from you because looking at you right now felt like looking directly into the sun.

“Ellie you should start up the car we’re done here,” Jessie throws the keys at her giving her a slight knowing look to let her go and collect herself back together.

She didn’t even say anything, walked away without a goodbye or convincing enough reassurance that would calm your nerves.

“I’m gonna go home too, see you guys.” You were left with only your actions to think about. Ellie’s response to an accidental kiss made her ran away in the other away how could’ve you imagined it going any of other way? Feeling guilt and shame were the only emotions you could feel, rethinking the crush you’ve denied yourself from paying attention to and that it should’ve stayed that way.

Instead of paying attention to the kiss Ellie let her actions drive themself, not wanting to think at all. Until she hit herself with the car door, why did I act so grossed out? Making different scenarios of how it could’ve played out a million times better she thrust the keys into the ignition.

She dug out her cracked old red iPhone from her butt pocket and threw it into the passenger side. It hit something else than the leather seat, one of the lipglosses you always carry around abandoned alone. Ellie reached for it and saw the shade label, Glassy Expresso.

It sounded like the taste in her mouth from earlier, a taste you stole from her too soon. Unscrewing the lid she contemplated just trying it on. My lips are dry anyways, she swiped the applicator across her lips twice to get an even coat and rubbed it in with her lips. Some of it slipped onto her tongue, again. If only the taste of you could come along with the gloss.

Lmk if you guys want a pt.2♡🍒

[yooglefics]

The casual type: 01 . The blind date

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader  Wordcount: 2,888 words Genre ( for the whole series ): AU. College!verse. Strangers to friends with benefits to ?????. Eventual smut. Hurt / comfort at times. And fuff for cute friends. Summary: Hobi and his girlfriend set you up with a friend of hers to help with whatever happened months back. However no one really expected things to end the way they did.

Warnings ( for this chapter ): Setting things up for plot purposes. Gridding? Mentions of a boner. Making out.  Author's note: So, I wanted to write some friends with benefits thing, plus a bunch of art kids… and this came out ┐( • ֊ • )┌ . I should note here I took the creative liberty to play around with their ages so everyone is in college at the same time, and if you haven't, you can check the presentation post and learn a little bit more about them. Now let's start, hope you like it! If you do you can reblog, like, comment, send an ask, follow and what not. Thank you for reading <3

The place is quieter than the last time you were here, you realize, is earlier in the day and the semester just started after all, meaning students are still moving in from their home cities. And although you want to be mad at him, you can't really blame Hoseok's choice of place for a date, instead, you're already thinking of ways to be able to escape the awkwardness of it all.

Of course, he and Mai don't have to worry about that. Is not their first date and considering they're both dance students it actually makes sense for them to be in a club on a friday night. Is their element, unlike yours, who hasn't left their room for the last couple of weeks if it's not to go art-supply shopping and will spend even weekends far away from a place like this.

But you couldn't say no. Not to Hobi. Not after he held you tight that night and didn't pray for an explanation.

He had come up with his own conclusions, though, and that's how you ended here. On a double date with Mai and her friend who you don't even know, so... Yay! Blind date added to the mix of reasons why you already want the night to end.

"You made it!" Mai greats when the both of you get closer to the bar, standing up to hug you first and then her boyfriend. "We ordered something while waiting."

Your friend nods at the explanation, "What do you want?" He asks in your direction and you settle for a fruity cocktail to not look too out of place with everyone else drinking. Mai insists on going with Hobi and he insists you stay, so, a bit awkwardly, you take the stool besides your date.

"Yoongi, by the way." The guy simply introduces himself before taking a sip of his drink.

"Y/n" short, overthinking if bowing is too formal until you decide is too long of a pause and it would only make it more awkward. In the end, a soft smile is your decision.

"They look cute together," you say looking at your friends, trying to break the silence that has fallen between.

"Listen," Yoongi begins, and your head turns to him, "I'm only here because she asked, so if you're expecting something like that, let's just leave."

"Like that?" Brows slightly closer, "a cute relationship?"

"A relationship in general. I don't do those."

"Oh..."

And before you can say anything else, Hobi is placing a glass in front of you, smiling reassuringly. "You'd be okay if I go dance now?"

A pause and then a nod is the answer. Not having any intentions of spoiling their night.

"Don't worry. Yoongi," Mai turns to him, a serious expression on her soft features, "you better take care of her, alright?"

He salutes, earning a smile from the couple and they walk to the dance floor hand in hand. You watch them make some silly moves at first and giggle, but it doesn't take long before they start to follow the beat and match it with their movements.

"I don't want a relationship either," you clarify, tone assertive, still looking at the couple with a smile.

He laughs, "I'm sorry, but that's hard to believe."

"Why?"

"Look at me and tell me you didn't just imagine yourself with someone on that dance floor."

You turn to him, brown eyes inspecting yours, "Well, yes. But that doesn't mean I want it to happen with someone I'm in a relationship with."

Again, he laughs. Clearly not believing you.

"What? People do casual things all the time," you defend, straightening your back and looking away.

"You do 'casual things'?" His eyebrows raise, "all the time?"

"Shut up, you don't know me."

"That's a no," no need to look at him to know there's a smirk playing on his lips.

"Who are you? Some kind of hook up police or something?" You want to take it back as soon as it leaves your mouth, cringing.

"Are you gonna show me your license?" but he is faster.

"Okay, that was more lame than what I said," you laugh. Maybe he is not as grumpy as he seems. And maybe, just maybe, you would be able to enjoy the night after all. 

If he doesn't want a relationship either, then you don't have to deal with rejecting him or being forced to accept a second date just because you're too kind to say no. That's good.

"Yoongi, hey!" A guy calls out and for a split second your date's expression changes to a surprise one before a polite smile takes place on his face. "Oh, hi. Sorry for interrupting, haven't seen him in months."

"Is alright," you play along even when not understanding.

"I guess he has been busy with yo—"

"Jay," Yoongi's tone is serious, like the one he used to say he doesn't do relationships. However, before he can continue or you are able to clarify that you two just meet, Jay is calling someone over.

"Look who I found, love. Yoongi!"

A redhead girl repeats Yoongi's early expression and you wonder two things about Jay. One: if he always has that effect on people. And two: if he is even more clueless than you in this whole situation, since his smile never falls.

"Hi," the redhead says and Yoongi greets back just as plain.

Are you really imagining the awkwardness? Perhaps you were wrong and in the end you should put one of your plans to avoid it into place?

A few seconds of thinking go by, no one says anything and you could swear the tension is filling the air around your new  group.

"Oh, that's the song!" Fake excitement in your voice tricks everyone into looking at you. "I promise, remember? If it comes on, we'll dance."

Yoongi looks confused for a second, but it doesn't take him long to finally understand, "right, the song. Sorry guys, been waiting all night."

Jay dismisses him smiling with a pat on the back, saying something about not breaking promises and Yoongi takes your hand.

Looking around, you try to find your friends, hoping to copy Mai's moves and keep up with the plan even when you're a self proclaimed not dancer. But they aren't in sight and even if you can't really prove it since your back is facing them, you feel like Jay's and the girl's eyes are on you.

Ugh. Why did you use this plan?

Why was this something you even thought about?

When Yoongi stops and positions himself in front of you, you get closer, sliding an arm on top of his shoulders pretending you're positioning yourself to dance, copying the random couple beside you.

"I don't know what I'm doing," you confess in a whisper.

"What do you mean?” He looks for your eyes, hair strain coming out of place when his head lowers a little, "you want to go back and sit down?"

"No, then they would know I lied," you're still trying to figure out why in the first place and don't need the embarrassment too, "but I don't know how to dance."

He chuckles, "here, I'll help." And holds your hips softly, moving them to the beat of the song, matching your movements with his own. "Relax. Don't think too much about it."

"If I don't, how do I know how to move?" It doesn't make sense and is a bit frustrating, honestly.

"Is not a dance competition, or the grant ball, princess. Just do what feels right."

He catches you looking at your feet and brings you closer, eliminating the gap between your bodies completely. "Don't do that," one of his hands travels to the small of your back, keeping you in place.

"Sorry," you say against his neck. Not intentionally, but because of your height difference, there's no other option. In an effort to not be so dependent on him, both your arms move around his neck and you try to move your hips in a way that in the end doesn't match his movements completely, causing you to bum into his front. He makes a sound that you assume is a complaint at your skills and another apology rolls through your lips.

"Turn around," Yoongi commands, applying pressure to one side of your hip.

You comply, confused even when you feel his hands on your waist. "Well, I'm going to assume you been fucked before, miss casual all the time," with his chest against your back, you can feel his laugh. "Open your legs a little," one of his feets kicks gently between yours, fixing your stand. "You want to lead or should I?"

"...You." Is the safest, you decide. Your turn to assume he surpasses your experience at that too.

“Some describe dancing like a good fuck," he explains, hands softly making their way a bit lower to your hips, "because you have to learn your partner. Find a rhythm together." His movements start slow, moving your body with his from side to side, with small circles of the hips.

Your hands fall on top of his, not knowing what else to do with them. They're soft, which for some reason is unexpected.

"I have dancer friends and they never described it like that..."

"Not to you, probably," he laughs and when you stop the movements to throw an angry look his way — because you're pretty sure that's some kind of insult,— he chuckles, before continuing the swaying of your hips. "Calm down, princess. I meant, they probably just weren't teaching you this kind of dance."

And that makes sense. You can't imagine dancing with your friends like this. You can barely believe you're doing it with a stranger.

Your shyness must have shown, because his next question is why did you even choose this song.

"I was trying to help and get you away from whatever that was," you lift your head, eyes away from your feet and the color lights projecting on the floor, and sure enough, behind red bangs, the girl is looking in your direction.

Your hips halt.

Yoongi catches up a bit too late, bumping his pelvis into you.

"What ar—"

"She is looking." Cutting him off, you want to hide as if you were the one caught doing something she wasn't supposed to. So, you try to turn around on his arms but his hold is firm.

A new song starts, the rhythm not much different.

"Help me with another song?"

You try again, this time using your hands on top of his to soften the grip. He gives in. And after a look at his face, you nod.

You can decide if it's sadness or anger that you see, not knowing him well enough to tell — or at all, to be honest — but either way, there's a part of you that can relate. One for each emotion.

Throwing your hair back, letting all black strands fall over your back, your arms go back over his shoulders, this time your chest flush against him a little more than last.

Yoongi says thanks and you kiss his cheek as his hands hold you again. His movements are more determined and even his fingers form dents over the fabric of your dress.

Assuming his demeanor changed only for the specific viewer doesn't sound too crazy, and you want to confirm the theory by looking at his face, see if he is looking behind you at her. Your eyes travel against the direction the few sweat drops over his skin go, and when they reach Yoongi's, he is looking back at you.

Your body stops.

"Fuck" he whispers when the front of his pelvis bumps yours. "You really need to stop doing that."

"Sorry. Told you I can't dance."

He chuckles.

Your bottom lip forms a small pout. "Don't be mean. I'm trying to help you, remember?" And you initiate the movements again, starting to get the hang of it. Kind of.

"You're not much help right now if you keep making me dry hump into you," this time he is the one stopping, making it so you bump into his front and you can feel the outline of his growing erection.

"Yoo—"

"Exactly," he says so matter of fact, "you're the mean one."

Lowering your head, you try to not think too much about it. It doesn't make you want to run away or kick him, but you also don't want to make him feel like kicking you away. You keep repeating to yourself that is normal with this type of dance, that there's probably more than one hard on at the club right now and how you're probably not the only one who is getting we—

Damn it. Just stop thinking about it.

Yoongi stops your body from moving, and when you realize he has been calling your name, you're even more embarrassed by your thoughts.

"I'm sorry. That was too much, I shouldn't have. We can go sit now." His eyes are looking straight at you, letting you know he's being sincere.

"I need some air."

Without even bothering to wait for a confirmation that he is following or not, you make your way to the side door of the club. The autumn breeze hits your skin as soon as you step into the alley, instantly calming your hormones down.

Hands cover your face in shame after reclining on the wall. Can you stop acting like it was the first time you felt a penies? Because even if it hasn't happened in a while, it doesn't mean the score goes back to zero.

"Should I bring Hoseok?" Yoongi asks a few steps in front of you and you jump a little, shaking your head after.

"I'm good. You can go back in."

"I'm not leaving you alone here. Do you want him or Mai to kill me?"

A small chuckle leaves your throat and one from him follows it.

"And you think he wouldn't kill you for—" stop. You can't think about it.

"For dancing like that with you? Probably. But he also set this date up, so..." Out of the corner of your eye you can see him shrug, "can't complain unless you hate me now."

"I don't hate you."

"Is okay if you do."

"It… it just surprised me."

"In a bad or good way?"

"A good one." You answer directly in a strain of honesty.

"So you're not really the casual type, uh?" He teases after a couple seconds of silence.

"Maybe I just don't like doing casual in the middle of the club," you defend.

"I don't know, you were the one that kept humping into me."

Your mouth opens and closes, finally looking at him and his stupid lips pull up in a smirk. You want to erase it so bad.

"Shut up."

"Make me."

And you do.

Skipping forward, right hand flying to the back of his neck to pull him in and you're able to touch his lips with yours.

He is quick to react. Kissing you back, his hands on either side of your waist pulling your body into his. But you're trying to prove a point, to defend yourself. So, you pull away slightly, making sure your lips are just about to touch.

He pulls in.

Allowing just a peck, you move.

You kind of regret not using your cherry lip gloss, because you know for sure that knowing you're so close for him to smell it but not taste it, would be the biggest tease.

You let him lean in again, not moving this time and he sighs. You smile against his lips just before his tongue asks for permission to enter your mouth. Again, you regret your simple choice of a simple red lip tint, but remind yourself that this date wasn't supposed to go like this. That Yoongi doesn't seem like the guy he was supposed to be, not what he was advertised by your friends.

Fighting back control, your left arm joins the other around his neck, moving your lips expertly and feeling his chest rise and fall quickly against yours. Is pretty much the position you were in on the dance floor minus the grinding.

Casual in the middle of the club is not your thing. Casual in general is actually not something you have experience with. But kissing? You've mastered it thanks to your past relationships and the avoidance of jumping into someone's bed right from the start.

A moan vibrates through your lips against Yoongi's, and even if it's part of the routine, you must admit is pretty real. A soft groan is his answer and the cue for your heels to touch the floor again. His hold tightens in reaction, making your dress rise up and covering a couple inches less of your thighs. Suddenly you're aware of the wind again as a breeze runs up your legs, towards the center of your panties.

Your breath caughts on your throat and Yoongi swallows any sounds before pulling away.

"Fuck," he breaths heavily, "we've to stop."

"Why? Are you not really the casual type?" You tease, stealing his line.

The left corner of his mouth lifts, before falling again in a millisecond. "Not with you."

Should I’ve added “cliffhanger” to the warnings? haha i swear is gonna be okayyyy ♡ Tag list: @n33mesis , @mggv97 , @wobblewobble822 , @bbou-doir , @m00njinnie , @nariee02 , @sexytholland . hope you guys like this one <3

➪ The squad. | ➪ 02 | ➪ Updates for this verse ➪ Ko-fi | ➪ ♡ Tag list info ➪ Main masterlist. | ➪ Updates in general | ➪ Request & chats

[kakujis]

PIBBY OMG OK

Bookshop AU with Yone

You working in a bookstore is so magical to him. He starts coming in with his laptop and headphones to work on his music stuff but he keeps sneaking glances at you while you're rearranging the books on the shelves. He'll even talk to you about your favourite books occasionally

THROW IN SECRET ADMIRER omg he gifts you books he thinks you'll like but won't tell you they're from him so you'll be talking to him about this admirer and he's internally screaming bc IT'S HIM

hi wallaby!! i'm finally writing this cus i'm soooo enamored w him... but u are so right. this au is so cute. i can't believe i just wrote this in one sitting LOL, i'm going to lose it!!!!!!

wc: 684

warnings: gn!reader, mutual pining, mutual shyness. fluff. not proofread. reminder i'm an 18+ blog, likes and rbs are fine, but don't follow if under 18.♡ :>

yone loves a routine. but more importantly, he loves it away from heartsteel. don't get him wrong, he enjoys his bandmates, chaos and all, but sometimes he just needs a quiet place to work. imagine his delight when he stumbles across your bookstore, a quaint place tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

you are ever-present, ever comforting, and always there to lend an ear when he asks, "hey, sorry to bother, but do you think this sample is alright?" he notes your expressions, scrutinizing each piece to make sure you have something meaningful to say.

in return, he'll ask you about your favorite books, your recommendations and if you're working on anything yourself. it's an exchange of creativity that he craves, even in the early hours of the morning when you've just opened up shop and the sun is peeking slightly over the horizon.

the first time you pad over, holding a new book in hand, expression puzzled, he can't stop the light flutter of his heart, it's wings beating like a butterfly searching for a drink.

"look at this new book i got," you chime, handing him over the heavy hard-cover series, "have you read it?"

he'll shake his head, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear to fake getting a better look, before replying, "nope. any idea who it's from?"

you do the same, but spread a wide smile on your face. "honestly, i'm flattered. i didn't think anyone paid attention to me like that. they should spend more time looking at you."

"it's the red hair isn't it?" he jokes back and you'll giggle, a sound that's prettier than the chime of the bell on the top of your door.

the weeks continue on, the look of delight on your face a welcoming sight every time he comes in. he listens intently when you ramble about your admirer, the newest book you got, and more importantly, how it makes you feel.

he decides to step his game up, adding in little trinkets and confectionary with each book drop off. he thinks you have no clue, in fact, he's so confident you don't that he even starts leaving handwritten notes within them. but you are no fool, there's no one else you've ever spoken to about the intricacies of your own heart. no one else knows which stories captivate you the most. only yone.

"another book i see," he hums, taking a sip from his coffee and missing the glint in your eye when he asks. "still no clue who it's from right?"

"y'know," you say, taking a seat across from him. "actually, i think i have a little bit of an idea."

"oh... really?" he answers, trying his best to maintain eye-contact.

you nod again, "mhm." a small, yet shy smile on painted on your features, but you also struggle to make eye-contact, the sudden weight of your confession looming over you.

there's an uncomfortable silence that drapes over the two of you, or at least, yone thinks there is. he opens his mouth to apologize, so clear that he's been caught, but you cut him off.

"or actually, maybe, i know nothing at all." you say, quickly getting up and gathering up your things. maybe you'd like things to stay like this for a while, it's comfortable and cozy. "sorry about that."

"huh? oh no, don't-"

"would you like to go on a date sometime?" you interrupt again, clammy hands holding the book up to your chest.

for a moment, yone just stares at you. knowing that if things goes well, ezreal and kayn are definitely not letting him live this down. he can hear them now, exclaiming, "what do you mean you were too scared to ask them out on a date?! so uncool yone."

he also knows that letting you in means that you'll get hounded by them too, but you'll deal with it when you get there... if you get there. and yone decides that he's okay with that.

"sure," he grins, taking one of your hands in his. "i'd love to."

[johaerys-writes]

I gotta ask about 4. Victorian Patrochilles

Basically this one is a reincarnation AU I started AGES ago... it is set in Victorian London, Achilles is the prince and in line for the throne, and Patroclus is a minor noble, and the meet at a ball and instantly feel this ConnectionTM... like it's one of the first patrochilles things I ever wrote lol, and the first chapter is actually up on AO3 in this collection over here. At first it was only going to be a oneshot but then I started thinking about it more, and I sort of came up with an outline for a full story and started writing it (I opened the file again recently and was surprised at how much I'd actually written) but I abandoned it after a while because I wasn't happy with some plot points and tbh I still haven't figure them out. But there's a lot of it that I still like, here is a small snippet:

I met him later that week. We walked the busy streets of London side by side, and the Prince didn’t seem to mind the mud that clung to his boots or the drizzle that darkened his golden hair to copper. He talked to me cheerfully- he seemed quite fond of talking, but not in the way one blabbers incessantly for the pleasure of hearing one’s own voice. He had much to share with me, and he spoke fast and with confidence, as if he could cram the information of a lifetime in just a few short hours. 

He was different when he was with me. Less aloof, less regal. He had a casual air about it him which he seemed to drop when no one was around; it made him look young, almost boyish—behind his princely facade he hid a cheerful disposition and a razor sharp intellect, as well as a knack for clever puns. 

It wasn’t long before our conversation drifted back to ancient myths and legends, as it normally did when it was just the two of us. 

“The Ancient Greeks were masters when it came to tragic stories,” he said, pushing the glass door of a tea shop open, a small and dainty one hidden in one of the side streets off Baker Street. “The most tragic of all, of course,” he sat by one of the tables, gesturing for me to sit near him, “is none other than that of Achilles and Patroclus. I recall you were quite fond of their love story.”

I self-consciously glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one near us had overheard, even though the Prince didn’t seem to have noticed anything odd about his speech. 

“We have settled, then, that they were lovers?” I asked him with a smile.

“Of course,” he said, without a hint of hesitation. “There can be no question about it. The truth is there, plain for everyone to see, regardless of what historians and scholars say. Left to their own devices, they would argue for centuries whether a tea kettle is black or simply very dark grey.” 

That was another thing about him that I’d noticed; he often spoke blunt truths without any intention to tease or gauge for a reaction. He spoke them because, frankly, that was what they were: the truth, and he had little patience for anything but. It was something I admired about him. 

Well, one of the many things I admired about him, in any case. 

“Indulge me, Your Grace,” I said, lifting the steaming cup to my lips after he had poured the tea. “What is it that you and I know, and all the scholars of the world do not?” 

[hongcherry]

found trouble || p.sh (m)

"After not hearing from Seonghwa for weeks, you find him outside your home in the middle of the night. Needless to say, you have a lot of pent-up anger, but so does he."

🏍 Pairing: biker!Seonghwa x richGirl!Reader (afab)

🏍 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Angst, smut; Biker au, bad boy/rich girl au, friends to lovers

🏍 Warnings: reader has she/her pronouns, lots of arguing and insults, cursing, pet names (princess, baby), reader cries 😔, oral (f & m rec), fingering, unprotective sex (take the necessary precautions!), p in v, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, reader is a brat and Seonghwa doesn’t have that, pussy and ass smacking, hickeys/marks, hwa’s a bit of perv at the end oops

🏍 Word Count: 4k

🏍 Author's Note: Okay, you guys asked for it! Part two of Seeking Trouble. Big shout out to my 🪱 anon in my feedback form who was the catalyst to me actually writing a part two. The "emotionally constipated brat tamer hwa" really stuck with me LOL. Anyway, thank you for the support everyone! ♥️ Please enjoy.

ateez masterlist | main masterlist

Tossing your phone onto your bed, you let out a big huff.

That stupid prick.

It’s been four weeks since you heard from Seonghwa.

Four weeks since your last late-night trip to the hilltop outside of town. You’ve tried to contact him, but every text message and phone call goes unanswered. After a few days, you gave up trying to reach him, but you can’t help but check your phone every few hours anyway.

Nearly another week passes when you’re woken by a low rumble outside.

You’ve heard that sound plenty of times. Perhaps the familiarity is what pulled you out of your slumber.

You hurriedly climb out of bed, tugging on your night robe as you stumble to the window.

You can’t see the lights from Seonghwa’s bike, but you know he’s out there. At least, he was out there.

There’s a temptation to climb out of your window to find him; however, your path downward is nonexistent—unlike the movies. You’re not stupid enough to try either.

Instead, you quickly snatch up a pair of shoes and slip them on as you rush out of your room quietly.

It’s cold outside, and the robe you wear doesn’t warm you at all.

You wrap your arms around yourself, and peer left and right. There’s no sign of him.

You strain your ears but also don’t hear the sound of his motorbike.

Cursing mentally at your shit timing, you start to turn around. Though, shuffling to your left makes you halt.

“Who’s there?” you shout in a whisper.

More shuffling, then there’s a low voice.

“Don’t you know it’s safer to stay quiet in situations like these?”

Seonghwa’s figure appears from around the corner of your house.

“Oh, shut it! What are you doing here? Why have you been ignoring me?” you huff, walking toward him.

Seonghwa starts to remove his habitual leather jacket once he sees your appearance, but you stop him with a hand up.

“I don’t want it,” you stubbornly say.

He eyes you for a moment but goes through with his intention anyway.

His body heat from the jacket feels good over your shoulders; however, you’re still mad at him, so you shrug it off and let it fall to the floor.

Seonghwa sighs, picking it up and shaking off whatever dirt got on it.

“Are you going to answer me or—”

“Glad to know you’re still the same you,” he interrupts.

You furrow your brows. “Did you lose brain cells on your little vacation? Answer my—”

“I don’t know why you’re the one upset, you wanted the space,” he replies, face hardening at the memory from weeks ago.

Two days after the hilltop rendezvous, he got an envelope slipped under his shop’s door. In it, was a message from you stating you were tied of his boring life and to forget about whatever was going on between you two. To make it better (or worse), there was a hefty amount of cash in it.

“What the hell are you talking about, Hwa?” you ask.

“Did you lose brain cells on your vacation?” he repeats your insult earlier.

You glare at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“No,” you reply firmly.

You scan his features. It’s hard to read his thoughts with his blank stare, but you can tell from the increased rise and fall of his chest that he’s mad.

Good.

He can stay mad.

“Here,” he pulls out a white envelope from his back pocket and hands it to you.

You take it, confused.

“What’s this?” you wonder and peek inside. Your eyes widen at the sight of cash. Swiftly, you shove it against his chest.

“I don’t fucking want your stolen money,” you hiss. “Where on earth did you get this?!”

“Are you playing stupid?” he straight up asks, to which you’re taken aback.

“You’re trying to get me arrested,” you accuse.

“No,” he growls through clenched teeth. “I’m giving back your money. I don’t need a monetary incentive to leave you alone. I’m not desperate… Unlike you.”

You blink at him, mouth dropping open.

“First, are you high or something? I never gave you this money. Second, what am I desperate for? I have more money than what’s in that envelope.”

Seonghwa shoves the money back in your hands, and for a moment, it’s like a game of hot potato with both of you exchanging the cash. Eventually, it finds itself on the floor between you and him.

“It was slipped under my shop’s door weeks ago, and from what I know, no one from your family knows about the place, so they couldn’t have framed you. None of my brothers would do this either, so,” he trails off to let you connect the dots.

You listen to him attentively, becoming more puzzled with each word that leaves his mouth.

“I didn’t do that,” you say with a shake of your head.

Seonghwa glances at the envelope with a deep sigh.

“Why are you being so difficult? Just let this end like you wanted it to,” he exasperates.

“I haven’t visited your shop in a month. That,” you point to the cause of this argument, “wasn’t me.”

You try to think of who could’ve done this but come up blank. The only thing you can think of is someone had followed you and delivered the message. But who would care that much that you hung out with Seonghwa?

Does this mean your family knows?

Seonghwa looks up, hair covering his eyes, but you don’t need to see them to know how he’s feeling. The tightness in his jaw gives it away. He’s furious. 

He’s rarely gotten this upset when around you. Your brain works overtime to think of a way to calm him down.

“If I wanted to end things, I would’ve done it to your face… without money,” you say.

“Then do it.”

His tone is hard. Cold. Emotionless.

“Do what?”

“End it.”

“End this?” you try to clarify, gesturing between your bodies.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, princess.”

Although the nickname has never been a favorite, it’s never sounded so cruel until now.

“Seonghwa,” you say quietly.

He takes a step closer, and you take one step back.

He takes another, and so do you.

The action reoccurs until your back is pressed against your house’s wall.

“You want someone to take you away from this town? Find someone else,” he demands. “As I said before, Jongho would’ve itched your desire for freedom. But at this point, find someone I don’t know. Jongho doesn’t deserve to be treated how you’ve treated me.”

“What are you talking about?” You try to steady your trembling voice. Something about his words makes your heart clench painfully.

“I know you’re smart, baby. I know you know what you’re doing.”

A shake of your head.

He scoffs and moves away from your body to trek a small circle to calm his nerves. You stay pressed against the wall. You get a feeling you’re not invited to move.

“You’re so tired of this life you live. You need something new. Something–someone–that gives you a thrill, right?” he questions.

You stay quiet.

“I do that, don’t I? I give you that thrill you crave,” he continues and steps closer again.

When you don’t reply, he tilts your head to get a better look at you.

“I asked you a question.”

“You do.”

“And that’s all I do. That’s all you need me for,” he concludes.

“That’s not true,” you argue.

“It’s not? Then why do you want me to stay?”

You swallow hard.

The first response in your head is because you like him. But that’s too simple. And that’s not something you’re fully on terms with.

Your hesitation confirms Seonghwa’s already-made answer.

He scoffs harshly and starts to move away again, but you quickly reach out to grab his arm.

Something about your touch causes Seonghwa to slip out of your reach and pin your wrists to the wall in a matter of seconds. You don’t even realize what’s happening until he’s done and glaring at you with daggers you don’t want pointing at you.

“Because you want someone at your beck and call? Because you want to fuck someone your parents won’t approve of? Does that make you feel like the ‘badass’ you so desperately want to be? You want to be reckless and careless and free-willed?” he taunts. “You can be all that with someone else.”

“I only want you,” you plead, voice betraying your attempt to stay strong.

Seonghwa can see the wall you’ve built chip away. It motivates him to push onward.

“You only want me because I’m already here. If we were to end this, you’d have to start from scratch,” he says.

“No,” you say lowly, but Seonghwa ignores you. He ignores the weakness of your voice and the glossiness of your eyes.

“Or maybe you’re afraid no one will put up with your bratty attitude. You’re going to be stuck in this big mansion, playing Simon Says for the rest of your life because you’re too much of a coward to leave the nest—”

“Stop!” you cry, a few tears falling from your eyes. You tug your wrists from his grasp roughly and push his chest.

He stumbles back but still stares at you viciously.

“Did I get it all right, Yn?”

Your real name sounds foreign from his mouth, and it sparks the defiance inside you.

“No, because your brain is fucking empty,” you snarl. “You don’t know anything!”

He laughs darkly. “I got it all right because you wouldn’t be so upset if I didn’t. You’re just a rich, little—”

“I want you to stay because I like you!” you bark quickly.

That shuts Seonghwa’s yappy mouth.

His jaw clenches once, twice, then he’s rolling his eyes.

“You like the idea of me. You like the leather, the bike, the trouble, the freedom.”

You’re too mad to give a damn anymore.

You stalk toward him, giving his torso a shove with each word you spew.

“I like your humor, your laugh, your thoughtfulness, your stupid smile. I like how you let me vent. I like that you’re not faking who you are with me.”

You’re breathing heavily at this point, tears streaming down your face. Your anger is what’s keeping you warm on the chilly night. It’s what’s driving you to keep talking. To keep spilling your inner thoughts to the man before you.

“The trouble attracted me, but your personality made me stay. You and your stupid—” a hiccup. “Your stupid—”

You try to finish your sentence, but the words won’t come out. The only thing that escapes your throat is a choked sob.

Your fists are clenched in Seonghwa’s shirt, head resting against his chest as you heave.

Seonghwa’s standing still as he listens to your cries.

He came to check on you despite his better judgment—disguised as returning the money. This… This he never could have imagined happening.

Seonghwa’s been aware of his feelings for you for a while. He came to terms with them and accepted that they would only be reciprocated in his dreams. Though, now that he knows your true feelings, he’s stumped.

You sniffle and gradually pull away.

“Go,” you rasp.

You reach down and hold out the envelope.

“I may not have given this to you originally, but it’s obvious this person was right. This was going to end eventually. Why not now? Consider this payment for gas or whatever.”

Seonghwa looks at the envelope.

He does nothing for a while, and it makes you agitated. You shake the envelope and are about to repeat yourself when Seonghwa slaps the item out of your hands and grabs your extended hand.

He tugs you to him, crashing his lips upon yours so roughly it hurts your lips.

But the pain is welcomed.

The pain in your lips eases the pain in your heart.

Your arms wrap around his neck before jumping in his hold. He catches you with ease, gripping you harder than necessary.

His tongue moves quickly in your mouth, claiming it in a way you’ve never experienced before.

You’re tightening your legs around his waist when the sound of a window opening above pulls you both apart.

Your mother peeks her head out and stares down with bugged-out eyes. She calls your full name, but the effect it once had doesn’t stir in you now.

Seonghwa lets you go and starts to step away, but again, you stop him.

“Take me somewhere,” you say, ignoring the yelling your mom is doing. Soon, your dad’s voice joins hers.

Seonghwa’s shoulders deflate a little. “Some things never change, huh?”

You shake your head and step closer. “Take me somewhere so I can stay with you. You’re right. I’m a coward. I don’t want to be their puppet anymore.”

He licks his lips in thought.

“Please, Hwa,” you beg. “I’m serious. I’m ready to leave it all behind.”

Seonghwa smirks slightly, glancing from your parents and back to you. “All for some guy in leather?”

You smile, grabbing his helmet and handing it to him. He shakes his head and pushes it toward you instead. He wasn’t prepared for extra company and only has one. He would rather you wear it.

Seonghwa pushes the motorbike’s kickstand with his foot before climbing on.

“All for some guy in leather with a dorky smile,” you say as you follow suit.

“Get off that bike right now! Have you lost your mind?” your mother yells.

“I’m going to call the cops on you, young man. Kidnapping is a big crime, punishable by law!” your dad adds.

“What does he have on you, Yn? What are you doing? No—! Stop! Stop that motorbike!”

Your mom’s voice fades off into the night as Seonghwa drives off.

You’re smiling like crazy beneath the helmet. For the first time, you feel the weight off your shoulders fully. You know you’ll have to face your parent’s wrath eventually, but for now, you’re worry-free. Your shackles are gone. You finally made the decision you’ve been wanting to make. You just needed a little push… A little help.

Despite Seonghwa’s earlier warnings when you first met, you release your hold on his waist and spread your arms out. Your eyes close as you feel the wind rush past you. For a few seconds, you feel like you’re flying.

You’re liberated.

You’re addicted to the feeling.

Seonghwa moves a hand to rest on one of your thighs while he slows his speed. He can hear your laughing and cheers as he drives, and it brings a smile to his lips—lifting his spirit.

The moment you arrive at Seonghwa’s small apartment, you’re tugging off each other's clothes. You both move with haste. Your hands and mouths are all over the other. It’s as if you only have ten minutes to live.

“Fuck, I missed your mouth,” you gasp as he’s flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue fast. Two of his fingers are gliding in and out of your soaked hole, filling his apartment with lewd noises.

He hums against you as he pulls away.

Seonghwa continues to finger you open while he replies, “I bet you did. Your little toys didn’t do much for you, hm?”

“No,” you shake your head. “You feel so much better.”

He chuckles and lowers down again, licking and sucking your clit until you’re moaning his name continuously and squeezing his fingers as you come.

Seonghwa runs his tongue along his bottom lip as he sits back.

“Come ‘ere,” he murmurs and adjusts your body so you’re sitting upright on the couch—your ass close to the edge.

You spread your legs, reaching out with weak arms to pull him closer. He leans in to give you a sweet kiss.

He keeps his lips on yours while he presses his hard length against you, slowly rubbing it between your folds.

“Hwa,” you mewl into the kiss.

“What do you need?” he asks as he pulls away until his lips are brushing yours.

“You inside me.”

“You sure it’s not me without smart remarks?”

Flashbacks to that night whizz in your mind, and suddenly you fear he’ll leave you without an orgasm. Granted, you just came, but you still want more. You crave more.

Quickly, you clutch his sides so he can’t move away.

“No! ‘m sorry about that. You can say and do whatever you want,” you ramble in desperation.

Seonghwa smirks and angles your face upward slightly.

“See, baby? Punishments work.”

The comment makes you huff at him, pushing your nails into his skin slightly as you move your head out of his grasp. “Don’t be so cocky.”

“You gonna’ get smart with me right now, princess?” he chuckles dryly.

You stare at him, fighting the urge to snap back, but you lack self-control.

“You’re such a—”

Seonghwa raises an eyebrow in warning. There’s a small part of him that wants you to fight back just so he can punish you again.

“Sexy man.” You end lamely, ultimately deciding to comply so you can get what you’ve been craving for weeks—him.

He smiles. “Say what you were going to.”

You shake your head and tug his hips toward you, hinting at what you want. Seonghwa just moves back.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re obedient now,” he coos mockingly.

“You are sexy,” you protest with a pout.

“But I’m also what?” he prompts.

You sigh, relenting, “You’re also an arrogant asshole.”

There’s a sharp pain against your cunt without warning.

“Repeat it.”

“Seonghwa,” you whine loudly. “Please, just need you inside me.”

“Repeat. It.”

“You’re an arrogant asshole.”

Seonghwa gives another slap against your aching pussy, then rubs your clit fast, causing your hips to buck.

“This arrogant asshole is going to fuck you until you can’t even say those words anymore.”

You don’t get the opportunity to reply as Seonghwa pushes his cock into your walls.

Your mouth falls open at the sensation, heading lolling back.

Seonghwa wastes no time as he starts moving his hips immediately. The stretch of his cock has your mind going muddy, words getting jumbled together to form incoherent sentences.

“My poor baby,” he murmurs and slows down, exchanging speed with power. “Been all alone in her big mansion.”

You whine at his words, remembering how alone you felt when he was away. How needy you were for his touch in the late of nights. Nothing could ever replace his touch, no matter how hard you tried to imitate it by moving your hands the way you remembered him doing.

“Missed you,” you mumble.

Seonghwa kisses your pouting lips.

“Needed me to sneak in and fuck you dumb, right?” he continues, and you nod.

He chuckles, thrusting in particularly hard and earning him a loud gasp from you.

“I always wanted to fuck you in that fancy bed of yours,” he confesses with another powerful snap of his hips. “I probably would’ve had to stuff your pretty mouth with your underwear to keep you quiet.”

“I wish you did,” you say breathlessly.

“Maybe we can make that happen when we get your stuff,” he smiles, pace becoming languid.

“You think they’d let me take stuff their money bought me?” you huff.

“Who says we need their permission?”

“I rather not be arrested by my family.”

“I doubt they’ll arrest you,” he laughs softly.

You shake your head. “They’re crazy. You never know.”

“We’ll work something out,” he promises.

At some point, you couldn’t decide if a relationship with Seonghwa was worth leaving the world you were familiar with behind. Though now, with him in your arms and completely in your heart, you know your answer.

You would happily give up your elegant big room for Seonghwa’s minimal small one.

Seonghwa ducks his face to give you another kiss, then he’s picking up his speed. Your body’s being pushed up the couch, and there are a few times Seonghwa grips your hips to readjust you.

“No one else, but me, right?” he pants against your ear. “You’re mine now?”

“Yes. Just yours, Hwa” you reply, walls squeezing around his thick cock as the pleasure builds inside your tummy.

Seonghwa reaches one hand down to circle your clit while the other pushes your chin up so he can have easy access to your neck. Before, he wasn’t allowed to mark your skin in case your family saw it. Now, he could do whatever he wanted.

Your eyes close, moans falling past your parted lips at all the pleasure Seonghwa is giving you.

“Wanna’ come,” you beg, pulling his body close. “Please let me come.”

Seonghwa can’t help but chuckle at how whiney your voice sounds. He knows you’re thinking about the last time on the hilltop.

“Show me how badly you want it,” he says, and then flips you both so you’re straddling his lap while he sits on the couch.

You don’t let the sudden position change distract you; your hips move as soon as you’re balanced.

Seonghwa groans lowly, one hand resting on your hip while the other goes back between your legs.

You’re rolling your hips so fast that your body aches quickly, but you push through the pain because the high you’re chasing is greater than that.

“Fucking my cock so well, princess,” Seonghwa praises.

You moan in response and soon, your legs are giving out and you’re collapsing against his chest as pleasure washes over you.

However, Seonghwa doesn’t let you rest as long as you wish. He’s pushing you onto your knees in front of him, pumping his cock rapidly.

Your hands rest on his thighs and you lean in, mouth falling open for him to use.

Seonghwa takes the invitation without a second thought—gliding his length between your lips and moving your head as he pleases.

His moans are getting louder the closer he gets to his climax.

The sounds of him hitting the back of your throat cause him to push you off as he releases over your chest.

“You missed,” you frown, glancing down at the white liquid scattered across your breasts.

“No, I didn’t,” he smirks. Despite knowing how much you love the taste of him, he couldn’t let you get away with the names you called him earlier. 

Seonghwa bites his lower lip as he stares at the mess he made. “Could have you walk around like that for hours.”

You groan and push at his thighs lightheartedly. “Fucking perv.”

He laughs, offering you a hand to help you up.

“You wouldn’t like that?” he questions playfully.

“No!”

“Hm, sounds like a new form of punishment then,” he hums, more to himself.

“As if! You’re not making me waltz around your apartment covered in your cum.”

Seonghwa says nothing, but the smirk plastered on his face tells you he’s very serious.

“Not today,” he reassures. “Let’s get cleaned.”

You decide not to argue—partly because there’s a high chance he will conduct his new punishment idea—and nod, following him to the bathroom. However, something peeking out of the pile of discarded clothes catches your attention.

You make a quick detour and pluck out the once-white envelope.

Seonghwa turns to watch you when he notices you’re not behind him.

“You took this?” you ask, surprised.

He gives you a lopsided smile. “It’s mine after all.”

“I’m with a thief?” you laugh.

He shakes his head and takes the envelope out of your grasp. “No, I just take what’s mine.”

With the last word, he places the item down and pulls you against his chest.

“Oh? Do you?” you tease and move your arms around his neck.

“You disagree?” he asks.

“No,” you smile.

“Thought so,” he chuckles, pecking your lips. “Now, let’s go. I’m getting cold.”

He starts guiding you to the bathroom, but you turn to glance back briefly to look at him.

“Weakling,” you taunt.

As soon as you turn around, there’s a smack against your ass that has you stumbling slightly. Seonghwa makes no effort to stabilize you. Thankfully, you don’t actually fall.

“Get your ass in the shower, or I’ll tie you up and leave you with my cum over you,” he threatens, a devilish smile forming on his lips.

Your eyes narrow. You want to disobey him, but the better part of you knows better.

At least for tonight.

A/N: Again, thank you for the love you all gave this couple ♥️

For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

taglist: @nina-at-any-time, @jexizia, @ssaboala

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

[ninadove]

Miraculous Masterpost

Because I did not expect to write about this series as much as I did, so now my Random Ramblings Masterpost looks like a never-ending shopping list, and we can’t have that.

Generic 🦋

Miraculous’ philosophy of consent: all’s fair in love and plot [S5 E19]

A word on show-don’t-tell (Get it? A word? On show-don’t-tell? I’ll see myself out —) [S5 E18]

London Callin’ (Maybe) (We’re not sure) [S5 E24]

The Shadow Weaver-ification of Gabriel Agreste — Part 1 [S5 E26]

The Shadow Weaver-ification of Gabriel Agreste — Part 2 [S5 E26]

The Shadow Weaver-ification of Gabriel Agreste — Part 3 [S5 E26]

I love the Sentimonster Theory Canon and you can pry out of my cold, dead hands [S5 E26]

Felix Graham de Vanily / Argos 🦚

"Duusu, spread my feathers!" — A queer reading of the Sentimonster theory [S4 E26]

Felix is a little b*tch (affectionate) [S4 E26]

Taking risks in Strikeback (Get it? Risk? Strikeback?) [S4 E26]

On the beef between Felix and Chloé [S5 E18]

Felix’s masterplan was brilliant, actually [S5 E18]

Leave my fucking child alone — Part I: "There’s only one thing worse than Gabriel —" [S5 E18]

Leave my fucking child alone — Part II: A very chill rant about Adrien’s amok [S5 E18]

Reminder that yes, Colt SUCKS, but he’s not the only one [S5 E24]

On cracked rings and broken chains [S5 E24]

Surviving child abuse through humour [S5 E24]

Badass in the arena [S5 E24]

TRANSMASC. FELIX. PROPAGANDA. [S5 E24]

Plushie Parallels [S5 E24]

Felix is a ray of fucking sunshine [S5 E24]

On Felix’s wish [S5 E26]

Kagami Tsurugi / Ryuko 🐉

To wear one’s heart on one’s sleeve [S5 E18]

Cutting off contact(s) [S5 E19]

Thinking about Kagami Tsurugi ❤️ [S5 E24]

On Kagami and the cousins’ silly antics [S5 E26]

Feligami 🦚🐉

On Feligami and the (absence of) masks [S5 E18]

Beware of first impressions [S5 E18]

Feligami Fastburn my beloved [S5 E19]

Feligami Flexes [S5 E19]

It’s the way they hold hands, your honour [S5 E19]

Some Ship Bingo Ramblings [S5 E19]

Incoherent screaming over Kagami’s amok [S5 E19]

Feligami / Gabemilie parallels [S5 E19]

Pretension 🥺💜❤️ [S5 E19]

The quickest prison break ever [S5 E24]

You come to MY post, you disrespect MY blorbos — [S5 E24]

A word on jealousy [S5 E24]

Finding beauty in the monstruous [S5 E24]

Feligami’s couple cosplays [S5 E24]

A word on monsters [S5 E24]

Feligami Writing Guide [S5 E24]

From queer neurodivergent child abuse survivors to lovers [S5 E24]

Draw me like one of your British boys [S5 E26]

Felix doesn’t get the monopoly of the heart eyes [S5 E26]

On defying the narrative [S5 E24]

Ryukomori x Argos… Argomori? [S5 E24]

*Fireflies from Owl City starts playing* [S5 E26]

Beauty and the Beast AU

Felix’s fanfictions

Coup de foudre

Adrien Agreste / Chat Noir 🐈‍⬛

Remember kids: necromancy bad — [S5 E26]

On the S6 Redesigns Dread™ [S5 E26]

Graham de Family 💍

Flairmidable’s formidable costume [S4 E26]

Transmasc Felix Propaganda [S5 E18]

The Senticousins Agenda — Part I: NEWSFLASH, ASSHOLES!!!!! Felix has cared about Adrien the entire goddamn time [S5 E24]

The Senticousins Agenda — Part II: The Path to Isolation [S5 E24]

The Senticousins Agenda — Part III: L’Enfer est pavé de bonnes intentions [S5 E24]

The Senticousins Agenda — Part IV: Sun and rain [S5 E24]

The Senticousins Agenda — Part V: Sun and moon [S5 E24]

The Senticousins Agenda — Part VI: Mirror, mirror [S5 E24]

The Senticousins Agenda — Part V: First draft [S5 E24]

The Senticousins Agenda — Part VI: Everything I did… [S5 E24]

#LetAmelieStabABitch2023 [S5 E24]

On Felix, Emilie and Solitude [S5 E24]

On Felix, Emilie and loneliness [S5 E24]

All I’m saying is, Emilie should have been a lesbian [S5 E24]

Some thoughts on Sentisouls [S5 E24]

Adrien is a disappointment to his entire lineage (and we love him for it) [S5 E24]

Hands again! [S5 E24]

Let’s play Animal Crossing: Happy Home Paradise! [S5 E26]

A word on accents and guillotines (with a title like that how can you NOT want to click)

Aroace Adrien and Demiromantic Felix propaganda

Marinette Dupain Cheng / Ladybug 🐞

Do NOT talk shit about Marinette [S5 E26]

In defense of Ladybug’s suit [Miraculous World: Tales of Shadybug and Claw Noir]

Love Square ❤️

Queer coding! Queer coding everywhere!

Chloé Bourgeois / Queen Bee 🐝

Can a bee change her stripes? [S5 E18]

That one time I accidentally made myself a Chlolila shipper [S5 E22]

Master Fu 🗝️

Ah yes, the good old cycle of abuse and neglect

Lukadrien 🐈‍⬛🐍

A word on… Swear words

[partyanimal167]

Nice Rides- Kidd x F!Reader

And we're back! My bike is giving me shit right now which reminded me of this little fic that I haven't continued yet. I'll take Pearl (my bike) to shop later this week, so for now, we're going to pretend everything is perfect lol.

I need to write more Kid. He's so fun and spicy.

CW: black fem reader in mind, modern au, fluff, bubbly reader, light instances of misogyny, motorcycle stuff

Kid stood still with arms crossed and a deep scowl planted on his face. He wasn't sure what his role was in all of this, but he was fine with watching from a distance as people approached you and chatted away.

You cleaned up your bike for the show. It was glossy white with purple lights accenting the body. Your cat helmet chilled on the seat, and you talked eagerly with your hands--heart cutouts on your riding gloves visibe and the reason for your odd tan lines.

Kid didn't bother bringing in his old chopper for the event. He had a decent enough car parked elsewhere; he just tagged along quietly. Kid grumbled to himself mostly as old men pointed from far seeming to crack jokes and not take you seriously.

It pissed him off.

"Oh, there's a vendor I wanna go peek at real quick. I'll be back Kid!" you waved off before going to the tent area.

Kid grunted in response and looked around the grassy field--unsure of what to do with himself. He was surprised that you actually hit him up about the show. When he arrived, you just finished polishing off your ride and beamed at the mechanic before giving him a big hug.

Kid appeared calm as you rambled on about different Japanese models that you only saw in magazines before and how you wanted to find some accessories for your lanyard. However, Kid's mental gears were rolling. He had to remember that you were new to the area, so it was probably some form of comfort seeing him even though Kid wouldn't consider himself good company.

He only spoke to you a little, and the people he did know were interested in meeting you and how long you had been riding. Thankfully, not so many people were arrogant to think that you didn't know your stuff; enthusiasts go to these types of events. But that didn't mean there wasn't trouble.

Kid glared around as he popped his gum and honed in on you slowly making your way back with a little gift bag in hand. Two old geezers had stopped you, and you looked just as bright and sweet talking to them.

"That's a cute little moped you got there, sweetie. Did your daddy get it all fixed up like that? Make it a pretend bike?" one of the men jeered. You stiffened at the comment and decided to turn and walk away.

But an arm reached out with ill-intentions.

"Hey! I-,"

"I suggest you old farts fuck off and leave the girl alone. You can't even imagine handling a ride like hers." Kid barked out--easily getting in between the men and yourself.

The two spit on the ground and flipped off the man. "Whatever punk. You probably like riding your girlfriend's sissy ride. Do you have to ask for permission to touch it?" they laughed.

Kid started fuming. "I'll fucking-," he paused after feeling your hand on his arms. You gave him a gentle look--seeming to say how it wasn't worth it. Kid slouched his arms and let out a breath. "Fuck away from us your bastards."

You walked back to your ride with Kid stomping behind you.

"You're too nice. I don't know why people can't just be normal about you having a motorcycle." Kid grumbled as he plopped in an outdoor chair. You leaned onto your ride and just gave him a smile. (Ba-dump) Kid paused before turning his face away from you. "Anyway, go run around and see what's here. I'll watch your beaut."

You pouted and huffed. "But Kid, I want us to walk around together."

A blush started to creep. "But what- what if some punk touches your bike? Or those bastards fuck with it?"

You giggled and tried pulling Kid up from his seat. "If someone messes with her, then I give you one-hundred percent permission to beat them up. Plus, we'll take her to your shop so you can charge them crazy too. 'Kay?"

"Fine." Kid kissed his teeth as he stood, but you just wrapped your arm around his. You were all bright colors and smiles to his garage gloom and glares.

"Yay! So our date continues!" you cheered before beginning to head off.

Kid's feet followed, but his mind was elsewhere again. So it is a date.

~~~

Maybe I am gonna buy another motorcycle...

[carry-on-my-wayward-hobbit]

Little something for WIP Wednesday in honour of me actually managing to write something everyday this week.

Snippet of a draft for a Wolfstar barista au with a twist, and Sirius thirsting for something other than coffee:

Sirius stops by the coffee shop with the intention of getting some more research done. He’s always worked better in public with the chatter of people surrounding him acting like white noise, whereas Jamie needs dead silence otherwise he ends up getting distracted every two minutes. He’s still in the smart dress shirt he had on for the coroner, but the long peacoat he had on earlier felt a bit too much so he’d ended up swapping it out for the much more comfortable, old, leather jacket that lives on the backseat of the car.

It’s quieter in the shop than it was the other morning. There’s still a handful of people sitting around but no queue and only one barista behind the counter - the same tawny curls that made his drinks the other day.

Remus glances up as Sirius approaches. Sirius would like to think that there’s a flicker of recognition in his face, but it could just be nothing. He doesn’twant to be presumptuous. “What can I get started for you?” Remus just asks politely. 

“Large Caramel latte if you don’t mind,” Sirius answers as he leans up against the counter.

“Anything else?”

“Not at the moment,” he says slowly. He catches Remus’ eye - soft hazel that almost look amber with the way they catch the light. Remus holds his gaze for a moment, a tiny smile tugging at his lips before his eyes flicker down to Sirius’ lips and linger just a moment too long before darting back up again. Sirius grins at him, but Remus doesn’t say anything, just drops his head to the till and plugs in the order. There’s an ever-so-slight blush on his cheeks that Sirius almost misses. 

It doesn’t take long to make his drink. Sirius watches as Remus works - elegant fingers working deftly as he froths the milk, raising and lowering the jug to the steamers, up and down, up and down. Pianist fingers his mother would call them.

Sirius swallows. There are other activities that come to mind rather than piano playing.

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

WIP Wednesday

So okay I don't know if this is like...a cool thing to do or not, but there's a fic I claimed from the 2022 kink meme list (I couldn't resist, in large part because Tales From Jianghu Shopping Center was listed by the prompter as one of their inspirations for the prompt) that I'm not sure when I'll actually finish writing but I have started it and I'd like to at least acknowledge that I'm doing it even if the prompter won't see this. But the prompt is something along the lines of anything highly specific and niche (like my strip mall AU lol), and I actually happen to have a growing little stockpile of very very niche knowledge about my chosen professional field, which is ceramics! I specialize in wheel-throwing (though I'm also a...passable hand at plaster mold-making/slip casting and handbuilding, I just don't enjoy them nearly as much) so I've started a little something from Lan Wangji's point of view that's a love letter to throwing ♥

--//--

As is tradition, Lan Wangji works in porcelain.

The Lan family have been respected masters of porcelain for centuries, generations stretching back, back, back nearly to the beginning of the imperial kiln production in Jingdezhen. They once produced the enormous pots that adorned emperors’ palaces – there are (very distant) cousins of his in Jingdezhen who still do so for wealthy patrons.

It’s easy to forget such a background when he enters his personal studio on the other side of the world and flicks on the lights to begin the day’s routines. It’s precisely what he wants – a quiet life like this, simple and unassuming, is much more suited to his desire than the weight of tradition that could otherwise press him and his work down into something he would never want to be.

Not that he deviates very far from tradition anyway, but it’s the principle of the thing. Lan Wangji takes quiet pleasure in simplicity, in function that is beautiful in its hard-won mastery. There are very few non-traditional ways to accomplish this that he’s interested in, but he likes having the option should he want to take it. 

Lan Wangji had learned to throw at his uncle’s knee as soon as it was possible to do so. He has continued to do so since childhood with a single-mindedness that once surprised even his uncle. All he’d ever wanted to do was to sit at the wheel for hours and hours on end, only pausing to warm the water in his bowl with a fresh influx from the kettle and to transfer full wareboards (once he was strong enough) to the drying racks in the corner of his uncle’s studio.

Lan Wangji has always struggled to find the words to convey how integral the motion of the wheel and the smooth slip of clay through his finger and against his palms is to feeling like he fits into his skin properly, but his family seems to understand just the same.

Yesterday, as the sun was westering, Lan Wangji had weighed up a few bags of fresh porcelain. The lumps are waiting for him now, tumbled together under their protective sheets of plastic, ready to be molded and shaped by hands and hypnotic motion. There’s enough of a chill in the studio this time of year that there isn’t any condensation on the plastic when he lifts it, so he folds it away neatly and settles into the easy rhythm of wedging his clay to prepare it for the wheel.

There is, in the middle of the studio, a sturdy butcher’s block workbench. He built it himself right there in the studio, the first piece of furniture that had filled the space even before he’d purchased his Shimpo wheel. It’s very likely too heavy to lift – it’s certainly too big to ever get through the door – but he has no intention of ever leaving this studio to begin another, so it suits his purposes just fine.

Wedging the clay on this sturdy, hip-height table is nearly as meditative a process as all the rest of it. A bit more of a workout than sitting at the wheel, but it’s a good way to warm up in the morning, his muscles well accustomed to the push-turn-push-turn-push-turn of spiral wedging that it’s gone beyond second nature, it simply is. His mind wanders pleasantly as he watches the misshapen lumps of pure porcelain become smooth and rounded beneath his palms. Perhaps he’ll spend the day on bowls. They’re quick and simple, suited to his mood today, and he’ll have plenty of them done by lunch when he already knows his typical solitary routine will be interrupted (and can therefore plan for it so far in advance). 

The sun is up properly by the time Lan Wangji finishes his wedging, and once he’s transferred the first batch of prepared clay to the wheel he pauses to stand in the open doorway and look out over the garden that sits between his studio and his home. The grass and the flowers are glittering fresh and dewy in the sunlight as he rolls his shoulders, stretches out his back in preparation to be seated for long hours.

When he returns, the wheel welcomes him, familiar and comforting. He fills an old bird seed bucket with warm water from the tap and arranges the small mirror at the back of the wheel’s tray to the perfect angle to watch his own hands before he settles in and takes a deep breath, sleeves rolled up and apron cinched comfortably tight around his waist as an unnecessary reminder to keep his back as straight as he can while he works.

The first ball of porcelain hits the perfect bullseye of the wheelhead and Lan Wangji leans in to begin centering, the porcelain buttery soft where it runs under his hands. Porcelain, he knows, is notorious for being difficult to work with, particularly for beginners. This far into his career, it’s simply polite and responsive to each confident press of his palms. He cones it first, hands curled around it to coax it in and up; presses it down again with the flat of his hand, every movement focused on the centerpoint of the wheel gliding silently through magnet-powered rotations. 

Up. 

Down again. 

Up.

Down.

Push.

Press.

Lan Wangji loves every part of the throwing process for what it is, but if he were to have to choose only one, this would be his favorite: the moment he can feel the clay running smoothly, perfectly centered the whole way through and ready to become whatever he will tell it to be, the possibilities – for this moment – endless.

[hollow-dweller]

Talk shop Tuesday: which themes do you find yourself drawn to when writing/creating? How come?

i've talked about Grief and Complicated Relationships a lot, which are themes i personally believe i am interested in for purely intellectual reasons and definitely say nothing about who i am as a person or anything about my emotional state or the things that have happened to me hang on where did this photo of barbara streisand come from-

anyway.

something i actually find myself exploring a lot is the theme of parenthood. and that was something that emerged, not necessarily without me being aware of it, but it took me a little by surprise when i realized exactly How Much i engage with it.

like i wrote the irondad platonic soulmates au that is actually about May and Pepper being besties specifically as a SUBVERSION of the trope in irondad where Tony finds out that he and Peter are "platonic" soulmates and becomes the Best Dad Ever. and while that fic is very much about the May & Pepper friendship, it is also about parenthood--specifically motherhood--through the lens of two women who have zero biological tie (and in Pepper's case, no traditional familial ties of any sort) to their child.

the twilight au started as an april fool's day joke/avenue to bully @seek--rest specifically and personally, but over the course of writing/plotting it, it rapidly became apparent to me that the May & Peter relationship, and specifically the conflict generated by Spider-Man and its impact on their relationship, was a driving force for the tension in that story. there is the petermj of it all, but really if that fic is about anything it's about May & Peter. which does reflect the impact of parentification/complicated parental relationships on bella's story in twilight in this essay i will-

by the time i got to fics like some way of being human and we said our dreams will carry us, which were conceived around MJ's complicated relationship with her mother and Miles' loss of his mother respectively, it was much more apparent to me how interested i am in Exploring Parenthood. it was always an element in my fics, but for a long time i thought about parenthood as a secondary theme, not a primary one. whereas looking back it's like. you dolt.

i am always Intentional with my writing, but as i have progressed in fandom, i have a) become a better writer and b) achieved more clarity on what exactly i want to explore in these kinds of fics. looking at parenthood, warts and all, is something i am constantly consciously thinking about now as i write. and it's interesting to me to look back and see that evolution through the past few years as my interest--and ability--has refined and crystallized.

also this is again one of those Purely Intellectual things and indicates nothing deeper BARBARA PLEASE-

[calmthefuckdownalright]

So I've read some of your writing and was wondering if you'd consider doing a HC's for the Bur's of your AU's in like how they would react with rejection?

Also happy Spooky Season!! 🎃

Ah yes, the thing we all fear. Rejection. Hardcore actually going to be difficult to write because I myself have never been rejected due to the fact I've never been the one to ask someone out due to a paralyzing terror of our topic 😃

(Also yay first HC!)

But I will do my best ✨

Front Lines of L'manBur (pun intended)🎼

Let's just say tears were shed...in private. Where no one could see him. Specifically on a hill in the middle of nowhere in the dead of night.

When F.L.o.L-Bur loves and puts his heart on the line he does it with full intent of possibly spending the rest of his life with that person so to be rejected/friendzoned would shatter him

Definitely a drama queen if you knock down one of his flirtatious comments

Angel AU Phantombur💀

Plays it off as a joke while secretly dying inside

No like really he starts to decay slowly inside which he has to get drunk on regen. potions to fix

I picture Phantombur kind of like a swan in this instance. They can actually die from a broken heart so to have his Angel deny him finally removes that smug smile off his face

Although he seems perfectly normal to everyone else and seems to brush off your rejection, the whole S.B.I crew knows he's a wreck over it and Philza has to remind him to eat

Ranboo almost burns down the potion shop from Phantombur's absence as he's terrified that you'll walk into the business and he'll have to face you one-on-one again

So. Many. Cigarettes.

Workplace AU Simpbur🌷

The world has ended. It's done. He took a leap of faith and plummeted to the ground

But really Simpbur accepts your decision but that doesn't stop him from openly expressing his affection and still trying to win you over. Some things he keeps to himself

If you can't be his now then he'll make sure you can in the future. Anyone who flirts with you gets a dark look from the lanky, but fairly muscled, guitarist.

All competition is eliminated and soon enough you'll begin to wonder why everyone who seems interested in you backs off until only one option remains. Him.

Then he'll have you and he won't ever let you go. So to summarize, Simpbur refuses to accept you'd deny him so he makes himself the only one who would want you.

Ghostbur💙

Oh poor Ghostbur...

When you told him you'd only love Alivebur and could never be with him in that way it hurt so much

Honestly I imagine him kind of getting into a realm of self-loathing for a split second. Kind of in a scenario of "why can't I be more like him?"

Actually now that I think about it that would make a great Spooky Season piece-

Ghostbur would kind of be a combination of Phantombur and Simpbur in the situation. He would attempt to make himself as much like Alivebur as possible, even going as far as experimenting with explosives once (spoilers: Philza did NOT like that).

Ghostbur would try his best to keep your friendship, your presence. He wants to be near you all the time even if you reject his affection that doesn't stop him from comforting you and giving you blue or lending you Friend whenever you seem a little down.

As of how he seems like Phantombur? Ghostbur would carry on in his duties down in the sewers when you weren't around and try and distract himself from the horrible pain in his chest.

°~•°~•°~•°~•~°•~°~•

These are the 3 AU's on my list but if you want specific HC's for a specific version of C!Wilbur in my writings please specify. Ofc I had to add Ghostbur just because I've written quite a bit of him and I'll never pass up a chance to write our wonderful ghost-man.

Happy Spooky Season to you Anon! 🎃

[deldeldel90]

Maria x Beckett AU prompts (with songs!)

Modern AU. Hopeless Romantic!Maria x Romantic realist!Beckett, starting a relationship based on the fact that they both "couldn't get who they wanted", and settled. They both think that this relationship won't last long, and both end up surprising each other and themselves.

Song: Everybody Talks

Highschool AU. Maria, rebelling from her overprotective father, decided that she was gonna be a delinquent... except that she's the most well-behaved delinquent there is. Wrote out all of her rebel plans in a flowery notebook with blue ink, spends the days where she skipped in fields/the woods. Enter Beckett, an upper classmate who is set with the task of guiding Maria to the right way. After all he's heard about her sudden, extreme change, he expects somebody... mean, a bully. Harsh, perhaps a little obsessive (from what he's heard of her crush on one of the plaid brothers). Rude to authority and to her peers.

Instead, he gets a girl both clumsy and sweet as honey, a girl who shares everything with an ashamed redness that he wouldn't expect from somebody deemed a 'super-fan', a girl - a teen rebel - who becomes his friend, perhaps something more.

Song: There's Nothing Holding Me Back

Celebrity AU. Beckett is Maria's body guard and, after a near assassination from a crazed stalker who hates her guts, he's put with the mission of staying as close as possible to Maria, of protecting her from any and all harm.

Maria's always leaned on Beckett, for the five years he's been her bodyguard. She deals with insecurities, the media, and the fact that she feels trapped in her current life - and Beckett's always been with her. He's told her off before, she's quipped back, accidently swore a few times... but now, they're spending time together, talking for more than a few minutes at a time.

After all these years, he can finally look her in the eyes... and, through hearing about everything from her ex-boyfriend and her croaky froggish voice, feelings brew. Feelings that'll get him fired, perhaps even sued.

Song: Story Of My Life

Coffee Shop AU. Every morning, Beckett gives a coffee to Maria. Their fingers touch for a moment, sometimes, and maybe her scent is imprinted in his head, but it's not that big of a deal.

Maria learns his name. Tells her a little about her life everyday - her beloved sisters, her shows, her crush. Beckett listens and remembers. She asks him about himself, stating that they've met plenty but she doesn't recall him -

This is a dangerous game, Beckett knows, but he tells her. Simple answers at first. Nothing... nothing more.

Slowly, the line between barista and consumer starts to blur. Especially when Beckett writes his number on her cup.

Song: Cliché

Siren AU. Maria, a sea princess, is a siren, a beautiful siren with a lovely voice. Normally, sirens have no intentions on anything but confusing, tricking the upcoming ships for fun, but the ship's... well, current nobody, Beckett, is convinced that they've got something to do with ships disappearing and never returning.

He hears the song of a siren and goes to investigate. He thinks it's Gwen singing the songs and therefore, tries to get closer to the family in order to gather enough evidence to learn how to capture Gwen.

Through Gwendolyn's shyness, he meets her sister, whos more assertive than her. Who he plans to just pretend to like so that Gwen is more relaxed around him.

But then, he ends up falling in love with the siren who's the one actually singing. Cue drama.

Song: Wellerman (I just think it fits the vibe skdysin)

Student Council AU. Maria's a star student, perfect in every way, thought by everybody she's ever meant... until one day, Beckett catches her in the middle of a breakdown, due to how disastrous the planning of their senior year prom is going.

He takes it upon himself to be there for her, to help her out and spend time with her. He sees every part of her, including the ones where she's gusing over her co-president like he's a piece of meat, and, strangely enough, he finds himself falling in love even more.

Rumors may be spreading - and Blaine looks like he's about to start a fight with him - but Beckett and Maria will make this prom happen.

Song: Oliva

<3

[fenmere]

Sunspot Coffee and Tea

Against our promise to avoid writing for a bit while recovering from a minor burnout, I wrote something here tonight. It might have been therapeutic to do so, honestly.

It's a coffee shop AU self insert crossover fanfic of Wildow's Otherverse and the Sunspot Chronicles, titled "Sunspot Coffee and Tea". It takes place on this Earth, though. Descriptions of Others, Practicioners, Aware, and the Seal are from the work of Wildbow, A.K.A. John C. McCrae, and belong to him. We reference them here with love, and no intentions to make any profit from them, even if we stretch their intended canonical possibilities a bit. References to everything else not of this Earth, including Ktletaccete, beshakete, and `etekeyerrinwuf, are of the Sunspot Chronicles and belong to us, the Inmara. All the characters are headmates and therefore real people.

The Black Drop was a real coffee shop that was really like that, and we miss it. A lot.

We'll probably put this up on AO3 later. No warnings are necessary for this fic. It's 6093 words, light, hopefully cute, and totally self indulgent:

In Tanasbourne, Hillsboro, Oregon, in one of the strip malls there, there used to be an Insomnia Cafe next to a brewpub.

It’s still a cafe. Of a sorts. It was bought out a couple years ago, however, and has a new name. It’s called Sunspot Coffee and Tea.

There are some interesting things about this cafe, not the least of which is that they don’t accept money. How they manage to stay functioning without actually doing business is a total mystery to all of their neighbors and patrons, but if you want any sort of drink or pastry there, all you have to do is walk up to the counter and ask for it. Of course, the pastries have to be available, and it’s first come first serve for them. But they produce them quickly enough that if they’re out of something, you just have to wait thirty minutes or so. At most.

Before it became the Sunspot, it was like most cafes of its sort, especially in that neighborhood, attracting working class people who had at least some decent income. And that part of Tanasbourne wasn’t really known for being accessible to the less fortunate.

However, after it became known what their new mode of “business” was, people in need would take the MAX and the bus from all around to get a free meal, and they were quite welcome.

The clientele changed quite quickly, and this created something of a controversy in the neighborhood. Theories sprang up and circulated when efforts to bring the law down on them failed utterly. Stories about the mafia, or even more unbelievable things. One of the stories is true.

Eventually, things settled down, and everyone got used to the new culture and routines that the Sunspot brought to Tanasbourne.

I happen to know exactly how that all played out and why, but I’m not telling. I’ve taken oaths. I’ll give you hints in this story, though, because I think I can get away with it, and it’s kinda fun.

In any case, it was under these circumstances in that cafe that I got to watch a connection made that I had never expected to see. One that may well lead to the kind of quiet, sweet partnership that causes the world to glow just a little brighter at the ambient level, without most people quite knowing the source.

Of course, it started during a day when Eh, our boss and Senior Captain, was working the counter.

I was sitting at a table with Gesedege and Gnargrim, enjoying a round of Brekken’s tea while slowly discussing the intersections of public relations and security for the shop. Which is to say that we mostly sat, quiet, watching steam rise from our drinks, looking around at the guests and just soaking up the joy of seeing people rest who might not otherwise get to. And then, occasionally, one of us would take a sip or say a word or two, and the other two would nod or take sips as well.

And a new person walked in. Someone we’d never seen before. And I could tell by the way they entered the shop, they hadn’t yet heard about who and what we were. They hadn’t got the story yet. They probably thought this was a typical coffee shop.

They put on a double layer of masks before entering, which was good. Largely unnecessary in the Sunspot, but with covid still running rampant in the rest of the world, despite all the propaganda suggesting otherwise, their N95 disposable under a metallic hot pink mermaid print etsy number was a really wise idea. And it certainly put most of our guests at ease, even though they weren’t wearing masks anymore themselves.

But there were some smirks as this person reached into the pocket of their navy blue sleeveless cloak to pull out their card purse as they navigated through the tables and easy chairs to the counter. The long, black feather in their wide brimmed black wool hat bobbed as they went, boots squeaking on the wood floor.

Eh smiled as they looked up from a drink they were preparing for someone else.

And it was at that eye contact that the person realized they’d walked into something different.

They probably hadn’t noticed the lack of a cash register or POS yet. They’d obviously missed the appearance of me and my compatriots, since they’d been absorbed in arranging their garments and fishing out their method of payment, and had glanced at the other guests. They’d just happened to look the other way as they passed our corner, which was right near the door.

If they’d seen us, they might have had the same reaction they were having at the sight of Eh.

Eh is tall. They tend to keep their height low enough that they don’t have to crouch while in the building, but their antlers will just miss scratching the ceiling when they straighten up from a task like decorating a mocha. Their tail has a tendency to fill the walkway from the kitchen to the front counter, and their wings will block the view of the front from the rest of the staff who are in the back. And through clever programming, they’ve managed to turn the outer skin of their body into a satiny dark purple that seems to be full of stars and nebulae and is somehow constantly rim lit, regardless of the actual lighting of their surroundings.

Most human beings, upon seeing that vision, will later describe it as having been like walking right into VRChat. Only, I’ve logged into VRChat, and nobody has yet been able to create an avatar of that detail and refinement.

“How may I help you?” Eh asked.

The newcomer looked around, clearly startled and worried, and caught the vision of Gnargrim, Gesedege, and myself holding our tea cups up in greeting.

If you look at my tumblr icon, you’ll know what I look like. I’m slightly smaller than Eh, and like to sit in my easy chair backward, resting arms and chin on the back. 

Gnargrim, built like a cross between Eh and myself, also uses chairs in a similar way. 

Gesedege, however, has taken to dressing like a human, and will stow their tail away in order to sit in a chair. But their muzzle, parabolic ears, and pair of horns tend to give away their origins as easily as Eh’s countenance.

Most new people at this point tend to freeze and gape, and it takes a certain amount of talking and coaching from the other guests to get them to relax and start to feel at home.

This person, however, scowled, brows knitting together above their mask, eyes squinting. They reached into their cloak to where a metal handled antique cane was hooked into an inside pocket and pulled it out with their right hand, clapping its point to the floor.

Gnargrim raised an eyebrow my direction.

We hadn’t seen this reaction before at all.

They whirled to speak to Eh, and asked, “Are we in the presence of Aware?” They lightly gestured at the other guests.

Eh opened their mouth for a moment, tongue and teeth glowing, pausing to think, before speaking, “Everyone here is aware of who we are, yes.”

The newcomer relaxed and bowed their head, then looked up and spoke more softly, “I’m sorry. My name is Anne. She/her. I’ve just moved down here from Washington, and didn’t realize a place like this was here. The Lord of Portland made no mention of the Sunspot, of course, but nobody else did either. I would have thought it would be recommended or warned about. Am I welcome here?”

Eh tilted their head, “Lord of Portland?”

Anne took a step back, and said, “Asterix. Right?”

Eh shook their head lightly, “I have never heard of them.”

“Him. How?” Anne corrected, then asked, tense. Then she shook herself out and stammered, “Sorry! Sorry. Please pardon my rudeness and short language. This feels like a very unusual situation and I’m finding it hard to mask.”

“You are wearing one,” Eh pointed out.

Anne looked around, then back at Eh and said, “I’m the only one here wearing one. Do you have a ward of protection up against pathogens?”

“You… could put it that way,” Eh said. “The air is heavily filtered and everyone here is personally protected with our technology. It should be safe for you to remove your mask here. If you wish to have your own personal protection, you’ll have to give us your consent to give it to you. It comes with side effects, however. You are also very welcome here. I am assured that this is considered a safe place to be, even though I have never heard of Asterix or a Lord of Portland.”

Anne hesitated midway through taking her hat off to remove her masks, then decided to proceed. Her long brown hair had a freshly trimmed sidecut, and her face was covered with a fine layer of stubble. Like many people in the Pacific Northwest, she didn’t wear any makeup, but she had earrings and an eyebrow piercing. Her glasses had little dragons sculpted into the sides of the rims. 

She smiled hopefully as she put her masks into her pockets, cane hooked into the crook of her arm as she worked.

“Can I order a coffee?” Anne asked.

“You may have one,” Eh said. “I’d be more than happy to make it for you.”

Anne paused again, blinking, then asked, “How much is it?”

Eh smiled, “It is free to anyone who asks.”

“Even a twelve ounce decaf mocha?” Anne asked, gesturing at the drink that Eh had just finished up.

Eh nodded and said, “Yes. Even that.” Then they looked across the cafe and called the name, “Maxwell?”

A man in an orange knit skull cap and a blue puffy jacket got up from his seat and wandered over to get his drink, thanking Eh and nodding to Anne before sitting down again. Anne’s eye followed the checkered handkerchief that hung from Maxwell’s left back pocket. She didn’t seem to have any strong emotional reaction. It seemed like a reflexive look followed but a decision to be satisfied with it.

Then she looked at the line of big pride flags along the wall, and smiled back at Maxwell, nodding.

“OK. Please let me know if anything is expected from me. I’d like to be a good guest,” Anne said. “I would very much like to have a decaff twelve ounce mocha, with no whip cream. And, do you have pastries?”

Eh nodded, then gestured to the case to Anne’s left, which held all the available pastries.

Anne bent to look, leaning on her cane.

“Are those cheese danishes?” she asked.

“They are!” Eh replied.

“I’d like one of those.”

“Certainly!” As Eh began to work on Anne’s mocha, they reached over with a foot and slid the back door of the case open. And then they did one of our little tricks, turning their extended hind limb into a tendril with a hand on the end of it and used it to select one of the danishes and pull it out of the case to put on a plate.

Anne watched this with an intense curiosity, completely unalarmed.

It was obvious that the other guests who were still watching were impressed with her reactions, but they also largely started to turn their attention away. To them, she might as well have been a regular at that point.

Not to us, though. She was behaving somewhat strangely. She was speaking of things that were established to her, such as the Lord of Portland, that we knew nothing about. I could see in Eh’s eyes that they were avidly intent on learning more. And I made a note to ask Morde to look into it if Eh did not.

It looked like Anne was about to ask another question when Eh beat her to the punch, “So, what brings you to Tannasbourne?”

“Ah, my girlfriend,” Anne said. “I’ve moved in with her.”

“Oh! Wonderful!” Eh said.

“Of course, what with Practice and the Seal, now I’ve got business here, too,” Anne said, a little less brightly, in a humorously onerous tone as if Eh should know what that meant.

Eh nodded absently but didn’t say anything, letting Anne think what she might think for the moment.

“How long have you been here?” Anne asked. There wasn’t anyone behind her, so she felt like she could stand and chat.

Which suited Eh just fine. Eh replied, “We arrived about eight years ago, and set up shop two years ago, after the pandemic hit the cafe that was here particularly hard.”

“And, if you don’t mind me asking again, you don’t know the Lord of Portland?” Anne asked. “How is that?”

“Well,” Eh said amiably. “We didn’t know that there was one, to begin with, if you’re really not talking about the Mayor.”

“I’m really not,” Anne said. “That’s kind of amazing.”

“Is he kind of like Emperor Norton?” Eh asked, referring to Joshua Abraham Norton of San Francisco, who had declared himself Emperor of the United States in 1859. We knew about him from one of our regulars.

Anne turned her head sideways slowly and drawled out, “nooooo? Not really. Though, I think Emperor Norton might have been a Practitioner.” She said that with an emphasis that gave me visions of both italics and a capital letter. “Asterix is an Animus,” she explained. “A surprisingly strong one, too, for his origins.”

“An Animus?” Eh asked, clearly dawdling on Anne’s drink to maintain the excuse to do something while talking.

Anne didn’t seem to mind, but she did sway side to side on her feet a bit, still leaning on her cane. I had to admit, even though her back was turned to me I was still watching her expressions via our surveillance channel. Really Gnargrim’s job, but I was very curious about her. As were we all. She looked like she was trying to concentrate. Not frustrated, but maybe confused.

I’ve been studying human expression pretty avidly, so I’m fairly confident about that. But I could have been wrong.

“An Animus,” Anne confirmed. “You know. An Other that is a manifestation of an idea or common emotion?”

“Oh!” Eh exclaimed, stirring chocolate into the shot before pouring the foamed milk into the cup. “We do know one of those, but it didn’t follow us here. It was afraid there might be others like it, and it didn’t want to encroach.”

“OK, so you do know what a Lord is?”

“No,” Eh said. “We really don’t.”

“But, you’re Other and you know what an Animus is, and you’re here.”

Eh held up a claw with one hand, and the milk pitcher in the other, “I am friends with a thing that can be described by your definition of Animus, yes. But that’s not our word for it, though. And I’m not sure what you mean by ‘Other’. That sounded like it had a weight to it and a context that I don’t know about.”

“But you’re not human,” Anne said.

Eh shook their head, then began to pour the milk into Anne’s cup.

“So you must be Other,” she concluded.

“So,” Eh carefully waved the pitcher to create a rosette on the top of mocha. “Other, in this context, means not human? Such as an alien, yes? I’m assuming you wouldn’t call a cat or a bird an Other.” Eh was managing to verbally put that capital letter on that word, just like Anne had been doing.

“No?” Anne said cautiously, putting a question to it in uncertainty. Then she asked more firmly, “What do you mean by ‘alien’?”

Eh glanced at Maxwell with a bit of a smirk, and said, “You know, like in 3rd Rock from the Sun.” We’d all watched that show on recommendation from our eldest regular.

Anne straightened up and did the backward step again, blinking.

Eh offered her her drink.

She squinted at them long and hard, then turned to my trio and did the same to us. I noticed that her pupils glowed a bright pink. Which is not something I’ve seen outside of our own Network before.

“You’re not Other,” she muttered.

“We’re not?” Eh asked.

“You don’t look like Others through my sight,” she replied.

“Interesting.”

“So, you’re aliens? Is that what you meant by ‘arrive’?” she asked.

“Ktletaccete,” Eh said. “Our word for aliens is ‘beshakete’, or Outsiders. And to you, we are Outsiders, yes. But we call ourselves Ktletaccete. It’s fascinating that you don’t detect us as Other, though. What does that mean, exactly?”

“You all have strong Selves like humans typically do. The spirits react to you as if you do, and you might be able to Practice, if you’re not doing it already,” Anne said. “You absolutely don’t resemble any of the Others I know about. My sight is particularly attuned to that kind of thing.”

Several of the guests were paying attention again.

“I think I need to sit down,” Anne said. “But, can we keep talking?”

Eh nodded, saying “Certainly.” And then commanded a chair to form from one of the bins, graphene colored clay crawling out of what people often took for a trash receptacle and slithering across the floor to shape itself into a seat particularly suited to Anne’s height and shape. Eh gestured at it.

Anne watched this and then pointed at the chair, stating, “That’s not Practice.”

“Ninite clay,” Eh said. “It’s part of how we got here.”

Anne experimentally sat down in the chair, and then looked surprised at how comfortable it was. It molded itself to her body and adjusted itself to her needs as best it could without the neural link.

Watching, Eh said, “The nanites are also how we provide protection against pathogens for those who consent.”

“Can they replicate?” she asked, with a tone of nervousness in her voice, moving as if considering standing up again.

“Yes,” Eh said. “But not without explicit command.”

“I thought that wasn’t possible!” Anne exclaimed. “I remember reading on Wikipedia…”

“The prevailing theory is that our Animus helped us make them,” Eh said. “If it is an Animus.”

“Oh.”

“Can you tell me what you mean by ‘Practice’?”

Anne took a sip of her mocha and raised her eyebrows in appreciation, “Magic. Through vows to keep true to one's word and uphold the old pacts, humanity can command the spirits to do work. Move energies. Alter reality a bit. Summon Others. Travel places. That sort of thing. Magic.” Then she looked startled with herself, and looked back fearfully at the other guests.

Maxwell grinned and waved back at her.

“Wait,” she hissed, turning back to Eh. “If you’re aliens and you don’t know about Others and the Practice and all that, then, what about everyone else here? Are they all aliens too? In disguise? Please tell me they are.”

“No, sorry. We cater to humans,” Eh said.

“Oh, shit,” Anne said, looking up at the corners of the room.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think I just said a whole lot of too much,” she shrank into her seat with dread.

Eh settled onto their haunches and leaned on the counter with their elbows, lowering their head with deference and concern, “That sounds bad. What are the consequences? Can we help somehow?”

Anne glanced at the other guests again, most of whom were now watching with various looks of surprise, concern, and enlightenment. Some of them were clearly putting two and two together for the first time regarding things we still had no clue about. Others seemed to be familiar with what Anne was saying, and maybe displaying concern for her. And the rest might have been hearing about this all for the first time.

Anne slumped and looked down at the floor, “I’m gonna take a big hit. I don’t know that there is anything you can do. I’m responsible for what everyone knows now.”

“Don’t sweat it, Anne,” Maxwell called from his seat. “We all know they’re aliens, right?” He looked around at the rest of the room, and was met with nods. “I don’t think anything you’ve said has really changed any lives here. Except maybe theirs, you know?” He gestured at Eh and the rest of us. “But, I bet you the Kletachitay don’t fall under the protection of the Seal, right?” He pronounced our people’s name with a distinctly West Coast accent. Most people around here did.

She rose slightly out of her seat to turn and look at him.

He nodded solemnly, with an inclination of encouragement, gesturing with his drink. Then, when he was sure she took that sentiment, he turned to relax back down into his own chair.

“It’s probably true,” someone else said.

Anne visibly relaxed and grinned nervously at Eh.

“Tell you what,” Eh said. “If you want to keep having this conversation in private, we can arrange that. If it would be better for you. We have our own secrets. We understand. But I would also like to learn more about this Lord of Portland, and maybe I should meet him at some point?”

Anne nodded.

Eh smiled, “There are a couple of ways we could do this. We do have a back office, which we could use, if you like. Or – well – we don’t really have hours, but it’s usually super quiet around 4 am. Sometimes we don’t have guests here at that time. But that’s not guaranteed. Or, you could consent to a neural terminal, and we could meet over the Network, if that’s not likely to mess with your, uh… You do Practice, right? Would your spirits reject the nanites?”

Anne’s eyes went wide as she took in a breath and held it, looking up at a corner of the room in thought. She looked fearfully back at Eh and said, “I don’t know. I’m kind of afraid to try. Um. Yes, I Practice. Yes. Um.” She glanced around the room again. “Through a bit of a loophole I can tell you about later.”

“A loophole?”

“Later.”

“OK.”

While they were having this part of the discussion, I witnessed yet another thing that was unprecedented to us.

Maxwell gave several of his fellow guests meaningful looks and exchanged nods. Then, some of them got up and spoke very quietly to other guests. And as Anne and Eh negotiated how they might talk in private, the presumably human guests of the Sunspot cafe began to gather their things and file out of the shop. Some of them waved to Eh or to me, Gnargrim, and Gesedege.

Eh looked just as surprised and bewildered as I did, and Anne noticed, so she looked back at the rest of the cafe to see what was happening.

“Don’t worry, Anne,” Maxwell said. “We’ve got your back. We’ll keep as much Innocence as we have left for you. Might come in handy, right?”

Anne looked utterly flabberghasted.

“After all,” he explained. “You’re family.” Then he gestured at the trans pride flag with his paper cup, and smirked.

He tugged the fold of his hat as he passed me, uttering my honorific, “m’Drah.” 

Maxwell’s one of my favorites, but he surprised the hell out of me that day.

Anne stared at the flag for a few seconds then looked at the door closing behind Maxwell’s back, eyes brimming with tears.

“I never thought I’d find a replacement for the Black Drop,” Anne said in the now emptied shop. “I thought that was an era that was gone forever.” She heaved out a couple of silent laughs, shaking her head. “But this place. How do you – ?” She trailed off, apparently unable to complete the question.

Eh brought themself back from their own bewilderment and replied, “We have some secrets we’re not going to divulge to even you. At least, not until our Council can agree to it. It looks like we could convene one right now, though.”

“Let’s go a bit more slowly than that,” Anne said, shakily.

“Sure.”

“Um,” Anne said. “I’m not exactly human, myself. I mean, I’m human enough now that I can Practice. Gaining a human enough Self was… a neat trick. I’m not sure I can explain it without giving you a whole education on the different kinds of Others and how Practice under the Seal works, though. Let’s just say that I’m old enough and experienced enough that I’m absolutely mortified that I was that careless. Bewildered, in fact.”

“Was the Black Drop -” Eh started to ask.

“A coffee shop where I came from,” Anne replied. “They weren’t like this. I knew only a few Others and Practitioners from there, but you couldn’t talk about that stuff in their lobby. You could talk about everything else, though. You could talk openly and loudly about your weirdest special interests, about being plural, or what it meant to you to be queer, and no one would bat an eye. And they called me family the first day I walked in the door, too. We had to chase the occasional bigot out a few times, but it was home in a way that no home ever was, you know?”

“I’ve heard Maxwell say something like that about the Sunspot,” Eh said. “But I don’t really know? I can’t. I can approximate from my own experiences, but I’m not human or Other, as you describe it. I didn’t grow up in this world.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Anne said, finally trying her danish. She gestured with it, “This is phenomenal!”

“Thank you.”

“You really should meet with the Lord of Portland, though,” Anne said. “I think I can arrange that. I’m really surprised he hasn’t reached out to you. Maybe he doesn’t know you’re here for some reason? But he should. By virtue of his station, a place like this should be known to him. Your presence should be felt.”

“Could it be possible that someone we’ve done business with covered that without telling us how it all works?” Eh asked. “Kind of like how we operate here legally?”

“Maybe,” Anne said. “Also, you’re not Others and you’re not Practitioners, so you technically don’t fall under his rule. It’s just that you don’t really belong here, either. How did you get here?”

“Oh, that’s a long story,” Eh said. “But I think I can summarize it intelligibly.”

“I’ll try to understand it,“ Anne said. 

They were both so much more relaxed now, and my Crew mates and I fell still to let them continue talking as if we weren’t even there. Eh never gave any indication we should leave, though, so we did stay and watch. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Eh so at ease with anyone before, honestly. I’ve known them through… so many lifetimes. I wondered what was different about Anne. Something was obviously clicking between them now. The speed with which they responded to each other picked up.

“One of our people, with help from `efeje`e, our Animus or whatever it is, figured out how to warp space/time and transport a vessel over hundreds of thousands of lightyears without aging significantly inside it,” Eh said, as if this was nothing more than discovering and developing a new Art. “We let her leave the original Sunspot on her own journey, with a Tunnel aboard so we could keep communication. And she’s been jumping around from star to star, exploring the galaxy since. And she’s been collecting a bit of a crew for herself in the process. But, um… That’s several novels worth of story. Anyway, she’s gotten pretty good at sneaking onto and off of inhabited planets without being noticed.”

Anne dropped her jaw and squinted, shaking her head, and said, “This sounds just like any science fiction story.”

“It feels like one, yeah,” Eh agreed. “The idea that we can bend space/time like that is phenomenal. After hundreds of millennia of evolution and development, you’d have thought we’d have discovered it sooner, if it was that possible. But, it did take help from `efeje`e, you know. And our agreement with it was also unprecedented.”

“So, maybe your warp drive was a kind of Practice?” Anne asked.

Eh shrugged, “Maybe.”

“But, wait,” Anne tore her danish in half and gestured with part of it. The chair had a cup holder when she needed it. “How did you get here, if you didn’t go with your explorer?”

“The Tunnel,” Eh said. “We can send consciousnesses through it. Everyone here is what we call Crew. We ascended long ago, our original bodies dying, and now live in the Network created by our nanites. When Molly told us about this planet, a few of us decided to transfer over and stay here. She dropped off a bin of nanites and we started making a new home here, as quietly as we could. But it became apparent humanity could use a little help, and our local Council decided to start being a bit more overt.” Eh gestured at the cafe in demonstration.

“And you’re doing this,” Anne gestured at the cafe herself, “without the help of Practice? I don’t even see Glamour at work.”

“As far as I know, yes,” Eh said. “Though, it seems Maxwell is aware of Practice, at least.”

“You’ve definitely cultivated a clientele full of Aware,” Anne remarked. “Which I supposed shouldn’t be at all surprising. You’re a bunch of extraterrestrials giving away food for free. Of course you’re going to attract the Aware. They need people like you. And they have a tendency to take weirdness like this in a certain kind of stride, because weirdness is part of what made them Aware. And if you haven’t even been visited by witch hunters, then someone’s gotta be covering for you.”

“Kinda figures, I guess,” Eh said.

Anne looked at Eh for a while, danish in one hand, drink in the other, then asked, “You look a lot like someone’s idea of a dragon.”

“I’ve been told that, yes,” Eh said. “We think this is what Ktletaccete looked like before we took to the stars and started tinkering with our genetics and life itself. Our oldest language hints at a shape like this, and it’s what felt right to me when I decided to stop being how I was born.”

“That sounds a little like something I’m familiar with,” Anne said, before taking a bite of the last of her danish.

Eh inclined their head, twitching it in the direction of that particular flag, “we’re family?”

Anne swallowed and looked at the flag, “You have trans people in your culture, too? Assigned gender?”

“Ah,” I couldn’t help myself from vocalizing, and Anne glanced at me. I grinned back, and nodded at Eh.

“Not the Sunspot. Or, the `etekeyerrinwuf,” Eh said. “We made sure our new world, our own Exodus Ship, didn’t have assigned gender. But Fenmere, Gesedege, Gnargrim, and I were all born on a ship that did. Or something close enough to it that it’s basically the same thing. We didn’t have the word ‘trans’, obviously. But, again, close enough. We weren’t able to end dysphoria by ending gender, though. Even with technological interventions before birth, eugenics even, as abhorrent as it is, we can’t stop some people from being born with the need for physical change. Sometimes it develops later in life, too. It’s better to accommodate it when it becomes known. Anyway, I digress. We have an understanding with your transgender people. We get it. It’s ultimately why we’re here.”

Anne, apparently, was stuck on the first few words of Eh’s explanation, “Can - can I ask? How old are you?”

Eh smirked, but I wondered if Anne would read it as a smirk. Anne was too focused on the subject of her question to be bewildered by Ktletaccete expressions like a lot of other Earthly people often are, though.

“Do you want to know my age by my own personal years experienced? Or from your perspective, taking into account relativity?” Eh asked back.

Anne grimaced, “Let’s go with years you’ve experienced.”

Eh titled their head and looked at the ceiling as if to calculate. I knew this was a hard thing to answer for a Ktletaccete of our age. I don’t like thinking about my own age, myself. It kind of defies memory. Causes a kind of dysphoria itself. I could see Eh’s face twitch as they settled on an answer.

 “I’m going to give you an estimate,” Eh said. “Calculated in your years, but for my experience. And really rounded off. At a certain point, the thousands digit means as much as the ones digit.”

Anne looked what I’ve come to discern as incredulous.

“Two hundred and some millennia,” Eh said. “Maybe thirty? Maybe fifty? It gets squidgy.”

Anne blinked and deflected internalizing that with an observation, “You use English vernacular like you were born here.”

“We’ve been here eight years, and we live in trillions of tiny machines that can house the consciousnesses of millions of us,” Eh said. “Our ability to translate and learn your language is… enhanced.”

“Two hundred thousand years?” Anne asked, back on the topic.

“Yes,” Eh said. “More or less. Mostly more.”

“Well,” she said. “At least you’re not embarrassingly older than me. Just a smidge, though. A bit of a smidge. Like a civilization or two. Well, technically, it’s off the other end, and there weren’t civilizations back then, so…”

Eh drew their head back and raised their lure in surprise, asking, “How does that work? If you’ll excuse me for asking. How does a human live that long? I thought your civilizations were less than a few thousand years old at this point. You only had your industrial revolution two hundred years ago or so. Your computer technology is less than a century old.”

Anne grinned, licked the icing off her fingers one at a time, and then rubbed her hand dry on her cloak as she stood up. She held out her hand as if to offer a handshake to Eh, and said, “Former Primordial Goddess of Hospitality and present trans girl, Anne Other Problem, at your service. Welcome to Earth, I guess!”

Eh straightened up and sloughed off a considerable amount of nanite clay, reconfiguring their body to be about the same size of a human, but otherwise the same shape as before. The excess clay oozed toward the large bin in the back, reverting to its graphene color almost immediately. Then they stepped around the counter to stand before Anne and took her hand to shake it.

“My name is Eh.Though, that’s really a title. My name is Yenfiri. My pronouns are they/them. Former Senior Captain and Founding Crew of the `etekeyerrinwuf, revolutionary, trans enby as you’d say, and co-Artisan of Sunspot Tea and Coffee,” Eh said. “And it is a real pleasure to meet you. Thank you.”

“I don’t have anywhere near the power I used to have,” Anne said. “But I’ll do my best to step back into my old role for you. Your customers… Or, I guess they’re your guests? Their actions speak very well for you and what you’ve done for them. We need places like this. But let’s try not to make too many waves. I think you’re in a more fragile position than you realize.”

“You’re our hostess,” Eh said, glancing at me. 

I nodded. The Council would accept this. We had a habit of still treating Eh like Captain, anyway. 

Eh concluded, “We’ll follow your lead.”

“Asterix might want you to pretend to be human from now on,” Anne said. “It might be for the best if you did, honestly. But that might also depend on what kind of protections you don’t know you have.”

Eh grimaced, “If it comes to that, we can comply. But it will hurt. Some of us will have to front more than others. Whatever it takes to do what’s safe, though.”

Anne nodded, “Let’s go see the Lord and find out what he has to say.”

“Sounds good.”

And nodding and waving to us, they walked out the door, just like that. Though, before they took their third step beyond the threshold, Eh had changed shape to their human disguise, which looked remarkably like Yenfiri had before their body had died. Just a different species, obviously.

[bobbie-robron]

Robron Fanfiction Recommendations (Sep-2022)

The below are/were recommended during Sep-2022 on Twitter. Enjoy!

The Chains of Freedom (2017) 99.3K words, brokenspell77

Robert has started working as a prison officer at HMP Hotten whose Governor is none other than his soon-to-be father-in-law Larry. Robert is assigned to E wing and this is where he he gets his first look at Aaron who is serving his fourth year of a 25 prison term for murder and is also under the thumb of the top dog, Jason. Taking an interest in Aaron right away, Robert sees something in him and makes an effort to help him which leads to being more than a prisoner and prison officer and offering something Aaron lost a long time ago… hope and a possible future outside the walls of the prison… together.

The Fine Art of Dating (2016) 3.6K words, lullabelle_moon

Robert and Aaron are two mates just having a drink out… in town. They get to talking about what a hypothetical date would entail for them. But the question in the end is, are they actually on a date now?

The Love That We Stole (2017) 23.9K words, interwebconvos

Aaron writes little notes to himself on his arm. Those notes are now appearing on his soulmate’s arm… Robert! Unfortunately, Robert is with Chrissie with no intention of leaving her so that means hiding those writings from her. What also adds to the situation is that neither know they are each other’s soulmates (at least at the start)… Robert believing it’s a woman while Aaron, well… he thinks it’s Finn even if he’s not his type. Soon enough a third party sticks their oar in and causes problems…

Journey Beyond series (2016) 24.3K words, moonlighten

Soulmarks, so-called cryptic matchmakers, marks (words) on one’s body that when spoken at the right time and the right way, identity who your soulmate is. For Robert, the soulmark is something ugly and the words inscribed are hard to accept and he’d rather ignore (as does Chrissie as she apparently isn’t her soulmate). Enter Aaron, while he does see the words, doesn’t read them out load… not until a pivotal moment in their story… and the bond is rejected! Six stories with the last part still a WIP to this day but an acceptable ending still.

The Muse (2017) 6.1K words, zoeteniets

Fashion designer Robert is down a model for his latest show and it’s his sister that brings scowly Aaron into the picture (even those he’s not the usual fey and ethereal type he normal uses) as a fill in. While he’s ‘not his type’ for the runway, Robert can’t get his mind off Aaron so much so new ideas begin to take shape centering around Aaron. In the end, he uses the guise of needing a model for a fitting at his studio. Will Robert finally act on his feelings for Aaron and will he reciprocate them?

Lost myself again and i feel unsafe (2015-2016) 10.7K words, reinacadeea

Soulmates: 1 in 1000 find theirs. It’s lifelong and forever. But for Robert and Aaron… well, Robert went ahead and married Chrissie even though he & Aaron solidified their connection the first time together. Now, both are suffering physically with lovesickness. When a harrowing event occurs, the connection they’ve kept secret from almost everyone might not remain so much long changing the course of their lives… forever.

Too hard, heart first (2016) 6.1.K words, finkpishnets

Superpowers AU. Robert is not a hero nor is he a villain. He just is but that doesn’t stop him from saving a bloke (namely Aaron) hanging outside of a 27th floor building. It also doesn’t help when his family is believing he set it all up because, you know, he isn’t a hero and because of past actions. That doesn’t stop Aaron from wanting to go out with Robert and becoming more with him.

Arch Enemy (2015) 17.9K words, bexcj

Robert has returned to the village with wife Chrissie and Lachlan in tow and winds up working at David’s to make ends meet (the Whites are not the rich HF lot). When Aaron steals from the shop and taunts Robert continuously about working there, the animosity only grows. When circumstances cause David to close the shop and put it up for sale, this gives Robert the chance to take a risk rather than playing it safe… and also learn why Aaron hates him so much… or does he?

The Swan Prince (2017) 22.2K words, zoeteniets

Once upon a time… there were two princes from two kingdoms who dislikes each other since childhood. As they grew up, so did their feelings and they slowly began to realize it was not dislike but poor attempts to be liked by the other. When Robert proposes to Aaron for reasons aimed at the kingdom alone, Aaron turns him down and leaves. Unfortunately for Aaron, his departure leads him on the course of being curse… into a swan. Will Robert be able to find him and admit his love for Aaron or will evil forces keep them separated. Robronized version of The Swan Princess.

A little too soon (2015) 25.4K words, dirtylittlegreasemonkey9384

It’s been several months since the lodge/Aaron outing Robert and they are officially together as boyfriends. But the thing is that while they are good together, the effects of the lodge are not so much in the past for Aaron while for Robert, there is still that niggling about that final outing. After a drunken rant over Vadam ‘making fun of him,’ the two decide they need a pause to get their heads together. Now it’s seven months later, one of them is getting his head straight while the other has been privately spiraling alone…

When I’m weak, i draw strength from you (2015) 21.5K words, reinacadeea

Aaron is called by social services when Gordon and Sandra have died since he is the only remaining blood relative to his brother, Elliott, which he doesn’t know. Aaron makes the decision to be parent/caretaker to the nine year old and gets much needed support and help from Robert especially with finding a home for him and Elliott - Jacob’s Fold. Robert’s sexuality is still not fully known in the village but when social services threaten to take Elliott from Aaron because of his recent mental issues, Robert has a decision to make…

Laying with Law (2017) 20.K words, NotForOneSecond

Aaron has a lot going for him. He lives in a penthouse, has a long-standing boyfriend, Kyle, has power and he’s opening up another new nightclub which is getting a lot of publicity. But that is only one side of his life. He is also a drug dealer known as Dust. At the opening of Echo, he spots an old mate, Robert, and it doesn’t take long at all for them to get it on after only first a lunch then an after hours meetup. But Robert is holding back something big. He’s told Aaron he’s in law but that’s it. He doesn’t tell him he is a copper on a task force to bring in a big business drug dealer Carl Logan (who unbeknownst to him, has a connection to Aaron)…

[a-little-bit-of-ravioli]

Rav, please answer the following, no exceptions

3, 5 for Hues of Magic (anything about the series is fair game), 11, 17, 30, and 42, I have no regrets

holy hylia you really aren't granting me any mercy jfkdjdjf FINE.

These got way too long to not put under a read more though, so here it is.

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

Hmmm. Introspection, definitely, but idk if it counts as a trope per se. I have recently been told that my very intentional efforts to always give all the boys at least one moment in the spotlight, no matter how small, are noticeable, though! So that, probably. I'm also very partial to likening a traumatic event to the present happenings.

5. What do you wish someone would ask you about [insert fic]? Answer it now!

You chose Hues of Magic! And hmm. I guess I'm always itching to elaborate on which specific glows mean what from Hyrule's pov, where they are from, and what the distinctive qualities between different types of auras and enchantments are, because I do think about those a lot! In Something Focused I basically went on a long diatribe over how I perceive Wars' magic to work, and if asked I could probably do that for most of them! But not every oneshot is meant to become a lecture like that one, so I won't lol

11. Are you partial to a certain character/pairing or are you more equal-opportunity? If you are partial to any character/pairing, why do you think that is?

This is unfair and you know it. I'm absolutely partial. Are you kidding? I grew up playing OoT/MM and TP -the Hero of Time might be my favourite character in all of fiction. I still play OoT on an almost weekly basis, in randomizer. And I have singlehandedly dragged people down into Warriors hell with me.

That said, like I mentioned earlier. I always, always make sure to involve the rest of the boys in the background (when it makes sense), instead of letting them fade into it. I'm really big on knowing what every present character does, so I lead by example!

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

I will cheat and put SSAU (Swapped Species AU, an AU where none of the boys are Hylian, but rather another race in accordance with their games) in here. Because while I'm not the only person enjoying it by a long shot, it was a huge team effort to create as much content for it as there is now. But I did put a ton of focus on everything around Guardian of Time!Wars and his relationship with Mask/Time and First. And I still get that giddy self-indlugant feeling whenever I think about or reread parts of it. So I'd say it counts!

30. Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter?

I have! It was Whistle, actually, haha. When I started to write it the style was the complete opposite of what my default was. It was an amazing exercise and influenced how my style evolved into what it is now.

If we're talking more about topical comfort zones - I definitely find it harder to write pure fluff, just because the string of narrative is different compared to angsty stories - there is no big climactic event, no comfort at the end to resolve it. But I chose to write some rather fluffy fics for LUAAP 2021, and while I couldn't resist putting in a little angst in the middle parts, I think I succeeded! And enjoyed myself, too.

42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

I'm gonna cheat here, because this isn't a single comment, but a theme that went through a comment section. I made up an old mage with his own shop for Something Darker, to fill a role I needed for the plot to kick off. I gave him a couple quirks, little mage things I thought were fitting, as you do with a side character, and didn't think much of it compared to the rest of the fic.

Imagine my surprise when almost every single comment latched onto this guy! People were thinking about his biases and reaction, there were interested in his backstory, someone wrote an epilogue from his perspective in a comment (yes this is a link to that). Safe to say that is gonna stay with me. It was such an amazing thing for people to take this small detail in my writing and latch onto it more than I ever could've expected!

Phew. you better know I'm gonna flood you the same next time fhdkhejdjf