#i wish it was normal and encouraged to write stories about characters dating for a week and then breaking up

[sonic-adventure-3]

My general opinion on Sonadow is that like. Because it's the most popular ship in the fandom most casual enjoyers just gravitate towards it and produce content of it which doesn't exactly match the characters or their actual dynamic, which is totally fair but as a canon enjoyer means I just don't enjoy like 99% of the fan content. And the stuff that I do enjoy definitely doesn't fall within the bounds of a healthy, traditional romantic relationship. However I will say that because there's so much art of it there's some legitimately gorgeous/hilarious art even if the characterization in it isn't totally accurate to canon

OH JUST SAW THIS SORRY IM LIKE A WEEK LATE TO THIS ASK. (context)

anyway yeah i completely agree! personally it can get a little frustrating to see so much of it everywhere, as i do really love sonic and shadow’s dynamic, but dislike the most popular interpretation

and yeah the stuff that i do end up liking definitely doesn’t fall into the ‘stable and normal’ category. like personally i just don’t like romance much in the first place, and i still don’t like any romance with these characters whatsoever, conceptually, but there is some stuff out there that does some really interesting things and tells compelling stories even if i don’t agree with the premise of romance.

overall far more than the concept of the ship itself i personally just actively dislike 99% of the fanwork, cause it’s not catered to my tastes. finding good sonic & shadow characterization can already be like finding a needle in a haystack, and finding good characterization that also isn’t romantic (or at least doesn’t end in a romantic relationship) and tells a story i find interesting is like finding a tuft of cotton candy in an asbestos insulated wall

but fr there’s some really truly amazing and hilarious art and writing out even if i’m not the right audience for it!

[dead-dolphins]

Idk what this is about, but I really think you're a great writer, indeed.

The point about Mikasa's age is completely valid, though... Like, would you be comfortable with a teenager dating a grown ass man irl?? I bet not, if you have decency, I mean... It’s NOT NORMAL, it doesn't matter how much you try to make it look harmless, it'll never be okay, I think it's time to question yourself if that's really good, otherwise, don't be mad at people for calling you out, don't be the kind of author who takes any criticism as a personal attack, especially if you plan to be a pro writer one day. Ask yourself why you always want your female characters to be a cute, innocent teenager? You don't even need to respond, Ik you won't so just think about it, because there's not an ethical answer for putting a 18 old girl to f*ck with middle age man, Mikasa's age in your stories is a weird problem, period, even suspicious imo, I promise you, romance between two ACTUAL ADULTS can be just as good, dear author! Anyway, have a nice day.

I'd like to address a few points and clarify my stance.

First, if you believe I wrote a teenage Mikasa, please provide specific examples from my published works to support this claim. To clarify, 18 is considered the age of consent in most countries, making Mikasa an adult in my stories. Here you have a screenshoot of Google in case you can't search for yourself:

Regarding your question about my recurring motifs, my inspiration largely comes from medieval, gothic and Victorian novels that often explore similar themes. Additionally, I enjoy writing period and historical dramas where I strive to remove any modern mindset to accurately reflect the era I'm portraying. It's important to understand that judging such stories with modern reasoning is not appropriate, as the context and norms of the time differ significantly from today's.

As for the notion of accepting criticism in silence, I respectfully disagree. This post is on my platform, and I have the right to respond. True constructive criticism comes from a place of transparency and accountability. If you wish to offer genuine feedback, I encourage you to do so openly, without hiding behind anonymity.

Additionally, I assure you that romances with age differences have been published throughout history and will continue to be. It seems you might be new to reading works but rest assured, I don't write stories where Mikasa is underage.

And well, dear anon, I hope this clears things up for you. As for my writing, I won't be changing my style or the themes I explore. In fact, while I hadn't felt like writing recently, your comments have reignited my passion. So, thank you for that, truly!

Warm regards.

(By the way, if you censor "fuck," that already tells me everything I need to know about you.)

[anaalnathrakhs]

i've had to unfollow a couple of aro-positivity blogs bc they hammer how at the same time they complain about friendships being deemed lesser than romance, and also about romantic shipping somehow ruining every canon or fanon friendship/platonic/etc thing those characters had.

"Why do you ship those characters???? Do you hate platonic friendships????" Well you see, they're friends in canon, and various relationship settings are interesting to explore between characters who have a strong bond. The same way people write pre-dating pining/falling in love/backstory/just being friends stories for canon couples. Just like sometimes people decide those two were matched in a way that doesn't jive with them and break them up in their fanfic.

"Shipping a character who doesn't have a love interest in canon is arophobia!!!" Yeah and you can only have one OTP else the characters are cheating on each other. Each pairing can only be written with a dynamic as close to canon as possible, else you just don't understand the source material. Writing an interpretation of the source means that you think that's exactly what the original writer implied, and the only correct interpretation.

"Shipping an aro character is just like making a gay character straight!!!" Neither of which are actually inherently bad and poorly handled things. Excluding making a case for characters being romance-positive/demi/gray/in qprs/etc while incorporating canon/subtext/word-of-god aro elements, because ppl writing those posts are often (rightfully) cool with it, it's also just. yknow. fine. Case-by-case, if you will. Sometimes a character dynamic would be interesting because characters are more than their orientation and also NOT REAL PEOPLE with no internal lives, likes and dislikes, boundaries, etc. You can modify things about them. It can be done in a poor manner, and denote a misunderstanding of aro issues and identities, or straight up bigotry. It can also just be that it's interesting to write about. Like genderbends for example. Many of the same arguments can be used there.

Anyway. Of course amatonormativity is real, and very present, and overwhelming, and exhausting. But the thing is that no fanfic interpretation REPLACES the original text or another interpretation. Friendships and other platonic relationships are not valued enough, given enough spotlight in media. But the answer to that isn't to chastize people for being creative and violating the integrity of a fictional character's identity. Encourage depictions and explorations of less normative relationships (not in the romantic sense of the word, all kinds of relationships), as well as the weight they hold. Educate people on aromanticism, amatonormativity, etc. I know you're already doing it, and it's not working, but trying to shame people for being creative is not gonna make it work faster.

Also re: in most cases, characters should not use therapy-speak to communicate or think, because that's not how people function in real life. Same thing applies. Just like internalize homophobia is a staple of many gay fanfics that wish to deal (however superficially and however in-depth as they'd like) with the topic, amatonormativity is going to be a feature of many fanfics about characters living in a world that, modeled after ours or not, was still created by people living in the same amatonormativity as we are. Usually, unless they actively work to insert non-amatonormative elements in their worldbuilding or specific story setting, writers will create a world through the prism of our society's amatonormativity, thus creating an amatonormative setting producing characters that think amatonormatively. It doesn't stop them experiencing things outside of the realm of that "normality", but it does influence the way they'll think and act about it.

There's few situations in which a long internal monologue about which modern queer lingo is appropriate for their feelings doesn't feel a bit shoehorned (and no hate if you want to write or read a feelgood piece instead of detailing internalized bigotry in all its complexity, to be clear, but that's a writing choice not a moral requirement to signify that This Author is Aro-Positive). Thus, characters will think about, act, narrate their story, etc, as they experience it, with the knowledge and vocabulary they have. Every action is only as romantic/platonic as the people doing it intend to make it, and every action you see on screen is up to your interpretation because characters don't have intentions.

I can write about two characters having sex, and not include a huge paragraph about how totally romanticism-less this whole thing is, because it would be completely out of character for them to apprehend these concepts in these words, and I don't want to tackle the WHOLE damn split-attraction model or every possible non-amatonormative way to conceptualize fuckbuddies arrangements, because I'm writing prose and not an educative guide. They fall for amatonormative ideas that are restrictive and don't encompass the full spectrum of human relationships. Hell, maybe the writer does too, even if they do challenge some other amatonormative ideas. But in any case, it does not erase any narrative of platonic feelings for those characters. The flavor-text reiterating amatonormative ideas ("this COULDN'T have been friendship" "relationships fixed them and they were so so sad and miserable before", etc) is annoying, but 1st of all educating is always better than chastizing, and 2nd of all sometimes prose is just hyperbolic like that, idk, there's notes of biphobia in how some stories highlight the character's first gay experience, but it's also just resonating and amplifying the feelings some people really do feel in these situations. That's a writing thing. Not universal to every style, but common.

yeah. non-amatonormative rep is good. less creative endeavors is bad.

[tired-biscuit]

Hey, so I read your posts about Kiba being unreasonably hated by the fandom, and I wanted to let you know, that while true, Kiba is still massively popular, in the popularity polls. He's like, always in the top 15/to top 20 most popular characters overall, so at least he does get lots of love, to balance out the minority who hate him for no reason. A character who gets real hate for no reason at all, despite being massively cool and underrated, and doesn’t get near enough love to compensate for all the hate he gets is Kankuro. I literally wish for Kankuro to be half as loved as Kiba is in the fandom, but what we gonna do.

idk i've always seen kiba being hated more than loved. might have just been my personal experience, but ppl drag him all the time and they drag his fans too. he's also really popular to portray the "villain" in fanfiction, as in the toxic ex bf, or the cheating s/o or whatever..... authors tend to make him sleazy and gross, even if it necessarily doesn't contribute to the story at all, and it's done just because they don't like him. not that that's wrong, it's completely their choice cos it's their story, but eh.....

like for example, i read this one naruto and sasuke x reader fic a while back. reader went out on a date with kiba cos those two were being morons, and instead of having him be normal and in character, he was just plain creepy so that nart and sasuke could have ended up looking good in the end. and i've seen plenty of fics make him the bad guy constantly so the love interest can make you go wowwww........ i usually stop reading them as soon as the pattern starts lol

also the constant comments that he's useless are rly ehhhhh (i mean by that standard, besides naruto and a few others in shippuden, aren't they all useless, let's be honest? most of 'em were pretty much forgotten lol)

and yeah, i think both kiba and kankuro could be considered niche. while kiba's fandom might be a bit bigger cos he's from konoha and one of the OG 12, i was baffled when i could barely find any fics about him when i joined the fandom 2 yrs ago. ppl who simp for that guy™️ that barely has any screentime have it rough, ik.

so i decided to make my own stories, and am still writing them. i wrote so many one-shots, drabbles, idk what. wrote a 130k book about him. i commission art. i support ppl who write about him/draw him. i make content, encourage others to make it and pay for it too, because i wanna see my comfort character in bigger amounts that canon failed to give me.

i guess my advice is that you can do that as well if you wanna see more of your favourite boy. produce the content you wanna see, self-indulgent stuff is fun and good for the heart <3

[justmenoworries]

I saw you reblogged an alphabet based ask meme so do you mind answering

J U S T M E O W R I N

Sorry but your url repeated some letters haha

J - Name a fandom you didn’t think about until you saw it all over Tumblr. (You don’t have to care about it or follow it; it just has to be something that Tumblr made you aware of.)

What We Do in the Shadows. Honestly, I still don't know much about it. From what I've gatjered it's a parody reality show with vampires instead of normal humans.

And one of the characters shares a name with my favorite director, is a vampire hunter but also dates one of the vampires, I think?

U - Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites.

Soundwave from Transformers. Because he's cool and his bond with his little cassetes is adorable when it's done right. Even Evil has Loved Ones at its finest.

Shadow the Hedgehog from the Sonic franchise. He's cute and I love him and he's my blorpo and Sega hasn't treated him right since Sonic 06. Fingers crossed for the third Sonic movie.

Undyne from Undertale. Cool knight-fishlady who gets overshadowed by funny bone man a lot of the time. She's a badass, I wish the fandom would treat her as more than a one-off joke. Justice for the Murder Mermaid.

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)

Ummm, my personal headcanon is that Pokémon can communicate verbally with their trainers and their trainers will be able to understand them just fine.

This isn't based on anything, I just write my Pokémon ocs that way because it's easier than playing Lassie-pantomimes in-story.

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending?

Not really.

All of my headcanons are pretty malleable.

(M was already answered in a previous ask.)

E - Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom? If so, what?

Not that I know of.

O - Choose a song at random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?

I Really Want Go to Stay At Your House by Rosa Walton

Reminds me of White Tiger, an OC ship of mine.

W - A trope which you are virtually certain to hate in any fandom.

Easily Forgiven.

I hate snapshot redemptions with all my heart.

Let redeemed villains face consequences for their actions instead of portraying them as misunderstood woobies who just need to have a good cry to make the heroes forget all the orphanages they burned down.

R - Which friendship/platonic relationship is your favorite in fandom?

Papyrus/Undyne.

They're both dorks, but one is also a jock. It's a really underrated dynamic.

I - Has Tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why?

The Klancers (Keith x Lance shippers) really soured Voltron: Legendaty Defender for me.

They made practically everything about their ship and harassed anybody wo just didn't see it.

I'm glad Allurance got canonized.

Reading the dozens of salty Klancers crying about it was funny. Which is probably the only positive impact those people will ever have on my life.

N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).

I'm picking the Undertale fandom, just because.

I'd like more AUs that revolve around characters other than the skelebros. I've recently come across Undying Determination, an AU where Undyne in her Undying form goes up against a genocidal human after Sans dies and I loved reading it so far. More of that, please.

I want people to stop demonising Toriel. She's not perfect by any means, but she really doesn't deserve the hate she seems to getfrom the majority of the fandom nowadays. People seem to forget that at the end of the day she is a traumatized mother trying her best. She's not some heartless harpy out to ruin Asgore's life and I wish people would sop portraying her as such.

Also, I wish people wouldn't use Undyne solely to prop up other characters. Whenever she shows up in AUs you can bet it's only to get upstaged. Mostly by Sans, because even five years later the fandom is just obsessed with him. Undyne is a badass in her own right, stop reducing her to the hypeman or the character who gets beaten up to establish the severity of the threat. My girl didn't whoop the players' asses with nothing but her own determination in the genocide run to be disrespected like this.

[having-trouble-feeling-feelings]

28 is the age of the turning

april 29th, 2023.

I always liked writing in the dead of night. The advancement of the clock and calendar does not seem to have changed that much. I feel that writing is also an opportunity to reflect and tell my past self what has happened.

You know that saying, "be careful what you wish for"? I've been distracted by my thoughts and desires, I've been wanting a lot, maybe everything, and the more I try to distance myself from real life to get a better overview of what's been happening, the more immersed I become.

There's the loneliness of the new job, which I'm getting used to. I don't know if this loneliness is typical of adult life or just typical of myself - I feel like I'm back in adolescence, in that time of alienation where everything is isolation and nothing is comforting.

I've been trying to escape this with travel and planning. At the same time, I realized that I also have to find small oases in my daily life, things that take me out of the immersion, the continuous momentum into which it sometimes seems like I get sucked into.

It's funny because at some moments I feel like I finally understand that I'm the protagonist of my story. Noticing this change has made me happy, encouraged me to take more initiative and seek what I want and what I desire. I'm enjoying feeling powerful, and I'm not afraid it's just an illusion of control.

At the same time, it seems like my head invented this to learn how to deal with this phase of change I'm going through. it's normal?

and about desires: if I want to kiss someone, I do. It seems that when I drink I take on THAT personality, capable of anything, desired, the center of attention, the star I always wanted to be. I stop looking for external validation, I stop going with the flow.

Lately I've been wanting love a lot. At the same time, I don't want to get hurt like last time - and that has made me notice red flags better. This weekend I started talking to a boy and something seems a little off. a click that doesn't hit. I don't know if it's my head, I don't think he noticed, but I don't think I'm happy.

I don't feel excited to meet him, he can't be interesting. He's handsome, he invited me to his house, and we would probably have sex today if I had thought a little less. But, in the end, that's not what I'm looking for, is it?

It would be nice to have sex and feel like a character of myself, to do theater, to act as the object of someone else's desire, ready to satisfy his desire, and my ego. I like knowing that I would be capable and that I can make someone have pleasure, I like the evil look, being desired, inaccessible, I like the performance more than the act itself. I like the look that lowers when I rest my hand under someone else's neck, feeling like I'm in a movie.

But that's not what I'm looking for. because desire is not need.

He's really not interesting. and he is not even interested, he is not able to talk, about anything. How sad to see this.

I still have to talk about the rest of my life.

I want to take advantage of the opportunity of Tinder to meet new people and understand myself better. I need to get out of the box of idealizing people in my head, I need to learn to be normal.

Today, when deciding whether I would go to the boy's house there, I was thinking about whether I should become that person who goes to someone's house on the first date to have sex. Maybe I really need to do these things to have courage and learn to navigate the waters of life.

I want to be the protagonist I want to be decided I want to be bold I want to understand how to live today

[sidney-latrobe]

pleaseee would you be down to write something where Fez is dating Nate’s sister, maybe she hates her whole family and her brother and Nate also hates her idk it’s all up to you, but I’ve been thinking about this for so looong

The better twin (Fezco x NateJacobs!Twin)

Summary: You are Nate's twin sister and dating Fezco.

Content Warning: None.

Word Count: 2.766

Personal Note: Thank you for another request. I decided that the Reader is Nate's twin sister. This work has an Orginal Female Character. I still hope you can live this story through her.

[Rue Speaking]

Sometimes, when I get really high, I kind of think I'm psychic.

Isobel Jacobs was an outstanding football player and could have gone pro and played in the NFL. She had light and quick feet, fast reflexes, and a throw that was almost impossible to catch but somehow, she could control that it always landed in the receiver's hand perfectly. Her father would have encouraged her to pursue her dreams and build her athletic talent if she were male like her twin brother Nate.

Nate would never admit this, but he knew she was a better Quarterback than he could ever be, and perhaps this is one of the many reasons he disliked her so much.

She could tell her dad and Nate didn't like her older brother Aaron, didn't think he had guts or brains or half a fucking clue, and Isobel disagreed. Isobel was close with Aaron—they were actual siblings: snickering and mocking each other in the hallway, sharing gossip, going shopping, giving advice, and stealing each other favorite snacks. Aaron loved his sister, unlike Nate.

You'd think twins would be close because they were created in the same womb and shared it for nine months, but Nate and Isobel weren't; in fact, they despised each other. They hated that they always woke up and reached for the orange juice simultaneously. The worst was when they spoke the same thing together. Nate always snitched to his parents about her because he wanted her to be weak and a pushover like their mother. Sometimes, you'd imagine Nate cared about her since he didn't like it when boys tried to flirt with her at parties, but Isobel was nothing more than a weakness for him, something his classmates could tease about him, and this possessiveness he felt about his family included her despite their shared disdain.

That was how she met Fezco—he was the only guy Nate didn't try to scare away, and she liked that about him. Unfortunately, I was in rehab when they first met at a party.

Fezco had seen a lot of different ways to light a joint, but he never thought he would see someone light it with a burning candle. She picked it up from the table and moved the little flame toward the brown paper between her lips as if it was the most normal thing in the world to do. The orange light illuminated her haunting eyes—blue like the sky on a cloudless day.

"Yo! I got a light!" called Fezco as she breathed out a great cloud of smoke and set the candle back on the table. The joint never left her lips as her eyes snapped to him.

"Thanks," she said, slowly approaching. "The candle was fine. Fezco, right?"

"Yeah." He frowned and watched as the stranger took a seat next to him on the sofa. She knew his name, but he didn't know hers.

"I'm Isobel," she answered the question that lay at the tip of his tongue.

Something snapped in Fezco's head, and he stared at her with wide eyes. "Nate Jacobs twin sister?"

"The one and only," she sighed and smoked her joint, slowly breathing the smoke out. "You're the drug dealer, right?"

He nodded, mesmerized by the way she smoked her joint. Each breath of smoke was like a painting, and Fezco wished he could have taken a picture to make sure his mellowed mind wasn't playing tricks on him.

"You need something?"

"Nah, I was just asking." She looked toward the coward where her twin brother had just taken another shot, celebrating his win. "So, you having a good night?"

"Yeah. What about you?"

"We'll see."

Fezco followed her line-of-sight and caught Nate Jacobs staring at them. The quarterback's jaw was clenched so tightly that his teeth should have shattered from the pressure and Fezco sat up straighter. He hadn't even touched his sister, and Nate looked as though he was prepared to murder him, but then, Nate turned his back toward them and went on with his celebration.

Isobel stared at Fezco as if she were looking at him with clean eyes, saying, "A very good night."

[Rue speaking]

Isobel Jacobs fell in love with Fezco a month later. She adored how nervous and flustered he sometimes got whenever she had stopped by his shop unannounced, and in return, Fezco allowed himself a little taste of happiness. He knew dating a Jacobs wasn't a good idea and that it would definitely bite him in the ass later on, but he forgot all about his trouble as soon as he saw her. Plus, Ashtray liked her.

"I got it!" called Isobel as she entered Fezco's apartment carrying two large white bags.

Fezco, who had opened the door for her, pressed a sweet kiss on her inviting mouth and smiled as Isobe ran past him to show Ashtray the contents in her bags. He could tell that Ashtray was exhilarated even if the young teenager tried to cover his excitement with a bored expression on his face.

First, Isobel pulled a collection of old movies that Fezco knew Ashtray would like and watch tonight from her bag and lay it on the coffee table in front of her. Then, she handed him a book thick enough to knock someone unconscious with.

"Took me fucking hours to find this book for you," said Isobel. "Hope this will provide some useful reading."

Fezco looked over his girlfriend's shoulder and stared at the cover, smiling because he knew Ashtray had been searching for a lot of information about cryptocurrency online in the past days. He wondered how Isobel found out, but she always had a way of surprising them.

"Thanks," said Ashtray, the smile on his lips brighter than the sunshine outside. "What do I owe you?"

"Oh, nothing. It's a gift." She knew that Ashtray didn't like gifts, and she didn't care. "And don't you dare try to sneak the money in my purse like you did last time!"

Ashtray rolled his eyes at her and strode toward his room, opening the book as he walked. Fezco had taken a seat next to his girlfriend and stared at the movies until he heard Ashtray's door shut. Then, he pulled her into his embrace, forcing her to lay on top of him, and silenced her giggling by capturing her mouth in a long kiss. Isobel gasped for air as he moved to kiss the rest of her face—her forehead, her nose, her chin, her eyes, her cheeks. Fezco loved everything about her.

"So," said Isobel, her warm breath sending shivers across his arms, "you and Ash going to sell at the carnival next week?"

"Yeah," muttered Fezco, his mind trailing off as he ravished her neck.

"Need any help?"

He tilted his head up to look into her beautiful eyes and frowned. "Your family not selling their chili this year?"

Isobel rolled her eyes and groaned, "Course, they are selling it. I'm expected to help, but maybe I could sneak away after an hour if I had a reason to."

"You know I'm gonna be selling the whole night, right?"

Something flickered in her eyes. "You're not going to take a break and maybe enjoy yourself a little?"

"It's the best time to sell, babe."

Isobel looked as if she wanted to protest, but she just breathed out and brushed her fingers over his soft hair. A smile, not as bright as it should have been, curved her lips before she dipped her head and connected their lips once more.

[Rue speaking]

Fezco loved like really loved Isobel. His grandmother once told him that he couldn't trust love, that it was unpredictable and made him vulnerable, but Fezco couldn't help himself, couldn't stop thinking about her and hoping she'd come by his shop again. Isobel was also tough to shake off; she was ambitious, and when she wanted something, she got it.

"Is that the last package of napkins?" asked Mrs. Jacobs as her daughter placed a brown paper box onto the table.

"No," said Isobel, "I just carried this from the car and locked the doors because I like the sound it makes."

"Stop being such a smart-ass," her mother growled, "and help me with the bread."

"I don't see Nate or Aaron helping out," barked Isobel in a low tone, her gaze drifting toward the carnival where people laughed and screamed from excitement.

"Your brothers are bringing the chilli with your dad."

Isobel rolled her eyes, knowing this meant she had to prepare everything until they arrived. This meant cutting bread, laying out napkins, wiping the counter, preparing the cashier, and making sure her mother didn't drink the entire content of her coffee mug that was undoubtedly not coffee.

"How long am I excepted to help out?" asked Isobel as she wiped the counter.

"Your father wants the whole family to help, Isobel. Even your brothers are helping out. And why do you want to leave? Are you meeting friend?"

Isobel swallowed hard and begged the Lord for strength (so she wouldn't bash her mother's head in) before she turned to her mother and said in a honeyed voice, "Yes, I'd like to acutally rather hang out with my friends at a carnival than sell chili."

Her mother didn't spare her a glance as she replied, "You can ask your father when he gets here."

On the other side of the carnival, Fezco and Ashtray had just opened their shop. Ashtray filled the little glass cabinet with pretzels and tied a white apron around his waist while Fezco popped one earbud into his right ear and exited their little shop.

"You know that Isobel wants to hang with you tonight?" said Ashtray, fixing his baseball cap.

Fezco stared at his younger brother as he secured the roof. He didn't think Ashtray would care to give him relationship advice, but Ashtray spent the entire last week devouring the book she had gifted, and Fezco assumed he tried to find a way to pay her back.

"I know," grumbled Fezco. "Maybe I will. Let's get this money first, though."

They bumped fist, and Fezco headed into the crowd. The drug dealer walked through the pool of people, searching for familiar faces, faces he knew he could trust and, most importantly, get money off.

Nate returned to his family's stand, his cheeks reddened, and his chest puffed. He had yelled at someone, and Isobel hoped Maddy had enough brain to make her brother suffer a bit more before she allowed him to spread her legs again. She noted her father giving his favorite child a look.

"Well, did you break up again?" asked her father causally.

"No." said Nate, annoyed.

"Looks like you broke up again."

"No, we didn't."

"If you ask me, she's a distraction."

Isobel liked that her father disapproved of Nate's choice of a girlfriend because Nate wanted his father's approval, even if he doesn't know it yet himself. She smiled at the next customer. Another young man. He was as tall as she was with brown curls and dimples and beamed at her as if he never had a drop to drink, and she was a sparkling river.

"What can I get?" said Isobel, her voice sweeter than honey.

"A-A cup of chili, please," stuttered the boy, his cheeks growing red.

Aaron looked at his sister and smirked before he drank deeply from the can of beer in his hand. Nate and Cal stared at Isobel as she poured the thick, red liquid into a white paper cup.

"Be careful," she said as she handed him the cup. "It's very hot."

"O-okay."

"That'll be four dollars, sugar."

Now, the boy's cheeks were as red as the chili he held in his hands. Quickly, he sat the cup down and fumbled for his wallet, fishing out two five-dollar bills.

"The rest is for you," he smiled, hopefully.

"Thank you." She gave him a last smile. "Enjoy."

The boy opened his mouth but shut it as soon as he noted Aaron's and Nate's stares. He muttered something that Isobel couldn't understand and hurried away. Isobel placed the bills in the cashier, took her six-dollar top, and stuffed it in her bra.

"You just broke that boy's heart," chuckled Aaron.

"Sex sells," shrugged Isobel.

"How many tips did you already make?"

"Probably like fifty dollars."

Aaron chuckled again and drank from his beer as Isobel's phone buzzed. She pulled it from the pocket of her jeans and stared at the message on her lock screen.

Look up.

A smile was already on her face before she tilted her up and stared into blue eyes. Fezco stood at the corner of a shop, his hands holding his phone, the bright light illuminating his face.

Hey. How r u?

Well, I saw my gf flirt to get a tip.

She rolled her eyes and gave him a look, typing.

And guess what your gf is going to buy with that tip?

Fezco laughed and quickly replied.

You going on a break soon?

Yes.

"I'm going to meet some friends," announced Isobel and stuffed her phone back into her pocket.

"We're not done selling, Isobel," said Cal.

She took a deep breath before she turned to him. "I sold the most chili tonight. I think I deserve a break, wouldn't you agree?"

Cal swallowed hard and just nodded. Isobel flashed a triumphant smile at Aaron, but before she exited their shop, a firm hand took hold of her elbow, holding her back.

"You meeting your drug-dealing boyfriend?" whispered Nate into her ear.

Isobel stared at him, and her eyes were colder than ice, making him shiver. "Yeah," she said, holding her ground. "At least I'm in a healthy relationship. Can't say the same about you and Maddy."

Nate growled, "I can ruin your fucking life like that." He snapped his fingers. "You should know better than to be his little bitch."

"Careful, Nate. You almost sound like you care about me. Besides, don't make a threat you can't uphold. Don't forget that I know you better than you know yourself. I see things I haven't shared with daddy yet, but I'm sure he appreciates learning his son shares more hobbies with him than he knows. Now, let go off me."

Like a dog with his tail wedged between his legs, Nate harshly let go of his sister's arms. She stepped out from their job and jogged through the ocean of people, searching for her boyfriend.

Fezco had watched her conversation with Nate but knew better than to try and interfere. He beamed as soon as she halted in front of him. Isobel had pulled her hair into a brain, leaving only a few strands of her hair to frame her face. She looked like she worked on a farm with her braided hair, black boots, washed-out jeans, and that flannel shirt she loved to wear over low-cut tops.

"Hey," she smiled and pressed a long kiss to his mouth. "Sorry about the wait. Nate was being a jerk."

"Nah, you good." Fezco kissed her again. "I missed you."

A cocky smile curled her lips. "I slept over at your place last night."

"I know." He threw his arm around her and strolled toward the carnival. "But you had to leave so early. I was still half-asleep."

Isobel laughed. "Yeah, I remember. So, can I convince you to stop working for like half and hour and spend some time with your girl?"

"Why the fuck do I think I came looking for you? Come on. They have a shooting game up ahead. Winner can get a bear that's as tall as Ashtray."

"You think you're shooting is good enough for that?"

"Wipe that smirk off your face."

"Care to make this intersting?"

"What you thinkin'?"

"Winner gets fifty bucks." She pulled him closer to whisper in his ear. "And if you win, I'll wear that pink outfit you'll like tonight."

"Let's fucking go."

Her laughing was like ripples in a still pond after a stone had been thrown in. It radiated outwards through the packed crowd of people. Now Fezco too began to titter, and soon the ripples of laughter became great waves of hilarity.

[gredandforgesmischief]

long story short - f.w

title: long story short

pairing: fred x female slytherin reader

summary: fred has been in love with y/n since they were fifteen, but the universe was never really on their side. (idk i'm bad at writing summaries but basically best friends to lovers. this takes place during gof in the spring.) this is also vaguely inspired by "long story short" by taylor swift bc i'm obsessed w her (see if you can find the lyrics)

other characters/pairings mentioned: adrian pucey/y/n, fred/angelina, george weasley, harry potter, ron weasley, neville longbottom

content warnings: its all fluff, some parts can be construed as angsty?? maybe probably not. sad fred at some point. sad y/n at some point. fred and y/n are both clueless all the time for no reason.

a/n: i wrote this with my Head Empty, but I hope you enjoy (feedback welcomed) also this wasn't proof read so ignore any grammatical errors

“... right Fred?”

“Yeah that’s cool, whatever,” Fred grumbled as a very irritated George hit his side.

The pair were having breakfast at the Gryffindor table, and the two were supposed to be brainstorming shop ideas, but it was apparent that Fred’s mind was off somewhere else.

Regardless of how hard he tried, Fred’s mind was often clouded with his feelings about Y/N. The two had been best friends since third year, and it took him a long time to realize that he wanted to be much more than just her best friend. But just as expected, right as Fred realized, Y/N had gotten into a relationship.

“Dude, Y/N is with Adrian now, you need to get over it,” George said. While he did feel bad for his twin, there wasn’t much that either of them could do about it.

Fred nodded, but just as he was about to respond to his brother, he noticed a flustered Y/N get up from the Slytherin table. In all honesty, if Fred hadn’t been staring at her he wouldn’t have noticed how distraught she was. Without another thought, the ginger boy got up from his seat and followed her into the corridor.

“Y/N, wait up!” Fred called out, not quite sure what he was going to say to her. The Slytherin girl slowed down, waiting for her friend to catch up.

When it came to his and Y/N’s relationship, there wasn’t a lot they wouldn’t talk about, but Y/N’s relationship with Adrian was a conversation that was often avoided. Y/N knew how Fred felt about Adrian, so she made an effort to keep the two as separate portions of her life.

“Hi, Fred,” Y/N’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes glossy.

Fred winced. Up until she had started dating Adrian, Y/N always called Fred by his nickname. When Y/N started dating Adrian she pulled away from Fred quickly. He could tell she tried to make everything seem normal, but it wasn’t.

“Is everything alright? You walked out of the Great Hall a bit fast.” Fred said. The pair were now sitting on a bench in the courtyard.

“Just… some stuff with Adrian.” Y/N said, knowing that there was no way that Fred would allow her to leave it at that. There was an ever growing vendetta that Fred had against Adrian, and him hurting Y/N would probably be the worst thing that the Slytherin could do.

“Listen, I know I’m not Adrian’s number one fan, but I’m still your best friend.” Fred said, hoping that Y/N would talk to him. It had been months since the two had chatted about anything of substance and he feared their friendship would fall apart if they kept avoiding each other.

Y/N went silent for a moment, weighing her options in her head. After a short while she looked at Fred and started, “Have you ever been in love?”

The question completely caught Fred off guard. He wasn’t exactly sure what he expected Y/N to say, but that wasn’t a question he was prepared to think about.

Sure, Fred had dated around during his time at Hogwarts, but the only person he had ever really loved was Y/N. It wasn’t something he had ever wanted to talk about with her, particularly because he didn’t know how great he would be at concealing his emotions. How terrible would it be for him to confess it to her while she was in a relationship?

Fred nodded, “Yeah, I’ve been in love before.”

“How did you know? What did it feel like?” Y/N asked, looking genuinely curious. Was Y/N truly asking him about this?

Fred looked at her incredulously, speaking once more, “Honestly, love, I think it's different for everyone,” The look on Y/N’s face was unreadable as Fred continued, “for me, I just knew.”

Y/N let out a deep sigh, “I feel like it’s all moving too fast.” There she goes again without any elaboration.

As Fred continued to give her terse answers, Y/N decided she had to describe what she meant. She had never really been great at putting her feelings into words, but she’d try.

“Adrian told me he loved me last night,” Fred’s face faltered, “and I didn’t say a word back.”

Fred wasn’t shocked by the idea that Adrian loved Y/N. The pair had been together for nearly five months, and Fred knew from experience how easy it was to fall in love with Y/N. If anything, it was more of a shock to him that Y/N didn’t say it back.

“But you do love him, right?” Once again, Fred hoped that Y/N would say what he wanted to hear. It was cruel of him to wish that Adrian and Y/N wouldn’t work out, but he couldn’t help it.

“I do,” Dammit. Y/N continued, “but I don’t think I’m in love with him. You know?”

Fred understood completely. He had loved a few of the girls he had dated, but he never felt in love. There was always some sort of hesitation that he had.

“I... just feel like I’m trying to force something that isn’t there,” The frustration was evident in Y/N’s voice. “And I thought that maybe I just needed more time, maybe we were moving too fast, but honestly I just can’t feel the way that I want to about Adrian.”

“Do you think there’s a reason why you can’t love him? You wouldn’t stop talking about him during Christmas break.” Fred said, recalling Y/N’s happiness after Adrian had asked her to the Yule Ball.

“What do you mean? I don’t think I acted any differently about Adrian during break.” Y/N was confused. If anything, Fred was the one who had acted strangely during Christmas break.

“No, I definitely recall you acting funny,” Fred said as Y/N shot him a glare.”You ignored me for two weeks Y/N.” Y/N frowned, shaking her head.

Fred remembered the two weeks in vivid detail. Up until six months ago, Fred and Y/N were attached at the hip. That’s why Y/N’s sudden absence in his life stung. In some way it felt like Y/N had picked Adrian over Fred, but he didn’t know why.

“Fred, I did ignore you, but do you really not know why?” Y/N said.

Once more, Fred tried to remember the events leading up to Y/N and Adrian’s relationship, but everything seemed normal. Adrian and Y/N had always been friends. It wasn’t strange for friends to date.

Fred shook his head, prompting Y/N to tell him what had happened.

-

It was a week before the Yule Ball, and the cheeriness around the castle was gleaming. The Great Hall was decked out with garlands of tinsel. Mistletoe was hanging in all of the corridors. It was nearly impossible to be unhappy with how much light was around., but as Y/N had watched what felt like the fiftieth person get asked to the Yule Ball, she was feeling less than cheerful.

“Y/N!” Fred greeted, earning an adoring smile from the girl in front of him. She was sitting in the Gryffindor common room, as she had just been working on an herbology project with Neville.

“Hiya, Freddie, what’s up?” Y/N was excited. She and Fred had been spending a lot more time together recently, and she was convinced that he was going to finally ask her out.

Fred smiled, “I need advice. ” Y/N nodded, encouraging the ginger boy to continue, “if you were to get asked to say, a ball, how would you want to be asked?”

Y/N was practically exploding with joy at this point, but alas, Fred still needed an answer.

“Well, for me personally, I’m not fond of the huge gestures. I feel like if you really like someone then you should just… ask? I know that’s a bit boring, but I wouldn’t want everyone to be involved in my business, so public gestures aren’t for me.” Y/N was getting rambly, a clear sign of her nerves.

Before Y/N could ramble anymore, Fred was marching up the dormitory stairs, calling out a short, “Thanks, Y/N!” over his shoulder.

Although Fred’s behavior was strange, Y/N brushed it off as Fred being, well, Fred. The boy often did things that were unexplainable. It wasn’t until dinner that day that Y/N had realized why Fred had asked her about the ball.

-

“Y/N, c’mon what’s on your mind?” Adrian asked, poking his friend in the side. Y/N was staring down her plate, pushing around peas with her fork. After her encounter with Fred earlier in the day, she had been on edge. The ball was coming up quick, and at this point it was now or never.

“It’s nothing important, don’t worry about me.” Y/N had finally put her fork down, flashing a sad smile at the boy. Adrian looked suspicious, but as he opened his mouth to talk, the pair noticed commotion at the Gryffindor table.

George was ruffling Fred’s hair, and Ron and Harry were laughing. Fred had a smirk on his face, his cheeks tinged a pink color. Just as Y/N was about to approach Fred to ask what the deal was, Fred walked out of the dining hall.

“I’ll be right back,” Y/N told Adrian, before walking to the Gryffindor table to ask George about what was up.

“Hey, George, what was that all about?” Y/N asked as she sat.

“Oh, Freddie boy just asked Angelina to the Yule Ball!” George replied, causing the two other boys to start to laugh again.

Y/N muttered a “thanks” to George before heading out of the Great Hall. She nearly sprinted to the Slytherin common room, not wanting to have a meltdown in the middle of the hall. Y/N was convinced that Fred would ask her to the ball, and it stung like hell to know that he had asked someone that wasn’t her.

When she arrived outside the common room, Adrian was waiting outside for her. Without any question, Adrian outstretched his arms, embracing the teary-eyed girl.

-

“You wanted me to ask you to the ball!?” Fred asked, mentally slapping himself for being so clueless.

Y/N nodded her head yes, clasping her hands together. She thought she had been very obvious about how she felt about Fred, but it was clear he truly didn’t know.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I never meant to make you upset. Angie and I went as friends anyway.” Fred apologized. He hated seeing Y/N cry, and to think that he was the reason made his insides churn.

While Y/N had cleared up her pre-Yule Ball behavior, there were still a few questions that Fred had.

“Okay, but what does any of that have to do with Adrian? If you wanted me to ask you out, why did you start dating Adrian?” Fred asked, despite knowing how forward all of those questions were.

Y/N sighed, this wasn’t the part of the story that she was particularly proud of.

“Other than you and George, Adrian is probably my closest guy friend. After I heard about you and Angie, Adrian was the person who comforted me while I was crying. I think somewhere along the lines I got my feelings for him all confused…” Y/N trailed off.

“Adrian was sort of an escape from everything. I thought that if you were dating Angie it would stop whatever friendship we had going. It felt like I got knocked off of some weird pedestal.” Y/N’s explanation made some sense, but it didn’t explain why she wouldn’t just talk to him.

“Why didn’t you just talk to me, Y/N? We’re best friends.”

Y/N let out a soft laugh, “I sort of went down a rabbit hole when I stopped talking to you. I was embarrassed, and Adrian was sweet. But after it all, I think I was trying to emulate whatever feelings I had for you with him. I thought clinging to another person would stop my feelings. Clearly it didn’t work. It was just a bad time.”

From what Y/N was saying, Fred was hoping that this meant something for the two of them. But right now, Y/N was still with Adrian, and neither of them would ever do that to them.

“Y/N, you need to tell Adrian how you feel.” If the two were going to date, it had to be proper. Fred didn’t want to be some sort of secret.

“I did, that’s why I ran off actually. We broke it off yesterday, it was just a lot for me to be sitting with him today…” Y/N was slightly embarrassed.

“There goes your excellent communication skills again, why didn’t you start with that?” Fred teased, earning a groan from Y/N.

“Hey, the knife cuts both ways. If you had just said that you were asking Angie to the ball I would have never gotten my hopes up!” Y/N quipped back, intertwining her hands with Fred’s.

Fred sighed happily, “Is there any chance that you still feel the same way about me?” Fred was sure he knew what she’d say, but this situation had proved the two needed to talk more.

Y/N laughed, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, “I’m all about you, Freddie.”

[clearsuitcasecookienerd]

See You in the Stars (part 2)

thank y’all so much for the positive response to part 1! I loved writing it so much and I’m excited to see what y’all think of part 2. there will be a part 3, it’s currently in the works. as always a huge thank you to @lumosinlove for creating this wonderful universe and blessing us with these great characters. enjoy!!

Kasey never forgot that night. Not two days later on a plane flying to Gryffindor at night. Staring out the window at the dark sky and feeling small. Not when he went apartment shopping and his only criteria was far enough out of the city where the sky wasn’t polluted with light but close enough to the rink. Not the first night in his new apartment when he set up his bed just right so he could see out of his window to see the stars. Not the first night after he had the sky lights installed into the ceiling of his bedroom above his bed so he could see the stars before he fell asleep. Not the nights when Kasey would grab his softest blanket and go lay on his balcony and dial up the number he had memorized years ago. Not the night when Kasey realized he might be falling in love with his best friend. And especially not when Alex left Gryffindor for the first time officially as Kasey’s boyfriend. And not tonight.

Tonight, when Kasey had come home from a game with Natalie and he missed his boyfriend. It had been a long game. He had done well in the net during the first period, not letting anything in. But as his sore thigh began to act up later in the game, he had been pulled. He knew he needed to take it easy to encourage healing but it always left him frustrated. Leo had done well in the goal but after a long no score game, the opposing team had been able to score in the last minutes and the Lions had lost 0-1. They had called Alex on the way home from the game before he left for dinner with his team. With a sore thigh and a heavy heart, Kasey was ready for the day to be over.

Standing in the shower, letting the water fall across his face and down his body, all Kasey wanted was for everything to feel a bit more meaningless. He didn’t want his sore thigh to bother him as much as it did, or for the team's morale to be brought down by a loss at home. He didn’t want to feel like it was somehow his fault and if maybe his thigh hadn’t acted up he could’ve had a shutout. And he certainly didn’t want his heart to ache for his boyfriend as much as it did. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to miss Alex, it was that he didn’t want to have to miss Alex. Kasey knew it was selfish to wish his boyfriend could move to Gryffindor to be with him and Natalie but maybe it would make the hurt in his heart a little less. But he knew he couldn’t ask that. He couldn’t ask Alex to pack up the life he had created in Tampa and move to them. Maybe one day, but he couldn’t ask that now.

After his shower, wanting nothing more than to feel like his problems were more insignificant, Kasey grabbed a blanket off their bed and a hoodie that Alex had left at the house last time he visited. Making his way to the balcony off of their apartment, Kasey began to clear his mind. Under the sky nothing mattered. The sky was wide and expansive and while he knew he could get lost in it, he couldn’t help but remember Alex and see him in the stars. Sliding open the door, he threw on the hoodie and spread out the blanket. As Kasey lay down on the blanket, he nestled his nose into the neck of the sweatshirt. Closing his eyes and breathing in deep, he could still smell traces of Alex’s laundry detergent and deodorant still clinging to the fabric where they had begun to mix with Nat’s perfume. As he opened his eyes, Kasey stared up at the sky for the first time since coming home.

Slowly a frown began to cross his face. Clouds. All Kasey could see were dark, grey clouds across the sky. His sky, Alex’s sky. A sky they wouldn’t get to share tonight. Normally Kasey didn’t mind clouds, he could stare at their ever changing shapes almost as long as he could stare at the stars. But tonight, tonight it felt like they were taunting him. As if they knew how much he missed Alex and how much he ached for a night staring at the stars and imagining what it would be like to have his boyfriend beside him.

But no, tonight the sky was covered in clouds. Big, dark clouds that were sure to bring rain. It wasn’t that Kasey didn’t like clouds. The sky was great and clouds were quite the phenomenon themselves. But tonight, tonight Kasey needed the stars. Well, he wanted Alex but the stars would’ve made his heart hurt just a little less.

Sitting up, Kasey pulled the hood of their sweatshirt over his head. As he stood up and collected his blanket, Kasey took a deep breath and looked up to where he guessed the moon was.

“Love you Posie,” he murmured, searching the sky. “I’ll see you soon, I promise.”

When the sky didn’t respond, not that Kasey thought it would, but maybe he was hoping, he headed back inside and curled up in bed. Almost as if it was taunting him, Kasey could sense the sky from the windows seeping into the room. Getting back up, he crossed the room and flipped the switch that closed the blinds on the skylights above the bed. If the sky wanted to taunt him, he just wouldn’t look at it. He could still hear Natalie’s shower and her soft singing but Kasey climbed into bed and shut his eyes, somehow even more ready for tomorrow to come than he was even just a half hour before.

Without the aid of the stars that normally helped Kasey settle his mind before bed, he was faced with his thoughts. His loud, racing thoughts that wouldn’t let him forget about every moment and every feeling of the day. And they wouldn’t let him forget how much he missed Alex tonight. Rolling over, Kasey grabbed his phone from its place where he had plugged it in to charge before his shower. Still with his eyes shut, Kasey opened the bedside table searching for the closest pair of earbuds. Once his fingers found the knot of wires he knew belonged to his earbuds, he cracked open an eye and untangled them and jammed them into his phone. As his phone unlocked, Kasey stared at his screen. The picture looking back at him was one of his favorites. Frozen on his phone was Natalie, covered head to toe in flour standing in the kitchen mid laugh staring at Alex with what the boys jokingly call her heart eyes. And then there was Alex, also covered in flour that made his hair look like fiery ice with one hand on a mixer and the other reaching out to the camera as if to ask the person behind it to come help him. Kasey longed to go back to that memory. He had taken the picture and then joined his partners in the kitchen to help follow the recipe Leo had given them for cookies. Being kissed with floury lips, Kasey hadn’t even noticed that he himself was slowly being covered in flour from Natalie and Alex’s hands.

Heart aching a little more, Kasey opened his music app and selected his favorite playlist. Alex had created “For My Bear” and shared it with Kasey a month after they had officially started dating. The playlist included songs Alex liked and ones he knew Kasey liked, some of Natalie’s favorites and some from their Ranger days. Every song had a story behind it, or so Alex had said. Kasey pressed play, turned up the volume and put the buds in his ears. Rolling over, Kasey slid his phone under his pillow, cuddled himself deeper in the blankets and closed his eyes.

Even with his eyes closed, Kasey’s mind continued to race. As he began to will it to settle, his heart ached for the stars and their vast enormity that made everything less significant. Everything except for his love for Natalie and Alex, the sky could never take that from him. But tonight the sky caused his heart to feel heavy

When Natalie emerged from the shower and noticed Kasey lying on the bed in their dark room, she was confused. Normally after a rough game Kasey would go lie out on the balcony and stare at the stars. She would often bring him tea or hot chocolate and grab her book. She knew her boys had a connection with the stars and she was more than happy to just sit with Kasey while he stared into the sky. Some nights they would facetime Alex and would lie him on the blanket so he could look at the stars as well.

Tonight though, Kasey was already in bed and if the small frown etched on his face in his sleep was anything to go by, the stars hadn’t made him feel any better. Looking up, a frown crossed Natalie’s face as well. The blinds were closed on Kasey’s skylights. After dating as long as they had, Kasey had made sure to let Natalie know when she moved in that whatever was his was now hers. But Natalie sensed something special about these windows. Positioned over the bed, the blinds were always open and when in bed, Natalie often found Kasey staring at them with a smile on his face. And the number of times she’d walked into the bedroom to find Kasey and Alex cuddled together staring at the stars, she knew they were special. Seeing them shut though, this was new. Crawling into bed, she reached out and ran a hand down Kasey's back. She smiled slightly as he rolled over and tucked into her side, muttering something about how much he loved her. Noticing the earbuds coming from his ears, Natalie carefully pulled them out, paused the music and put his phone back on the table. As she settled in, she ran a hand through Kasey’s hair until she noticed his frown ease and disappear. As she closed her eyes and let sleep consume her, Kasey wasn’t the only one going to bed missing their boyfriend.

[hawkland]

My (mostly) Destiel Recs, Round-up #6

Well, between working like crazy on my DCBB fic and GISH and injuring my neck last month I haven’t kept up with my rec posts, so this one is going to be LONG and have a LOT and I’m going to try to break it up into sections, from oldies but goodies (some things I found on very old rec lists) to smutty delights to just tasty little bits of fluff, hopefully there’s something or everyone here. Most of these are not super-long, largely in the 10-25k range, though there are a few beyond that. With all the stuff I’ve had going on I haven’t wanted to lose sleep diving into 100k epics (especially when I’m writing my own right now, lol.)

“Oldies” but Goodies:  Here are two great fics written some time way back when but that still definitely slap.

Theodicy by manic_intent (11k) - Probably the most brilliant Godstiel fic I’ve read to date. One of Cas’s first acts as the new god is to make a new archangel. Dean isn’t exactly on board with having his soul re-sculpted into wings he hates on sight (especially as they seem magnetically drawn to Cas), but he isn’t exactly given a choice. He, Sam and Bobby struggle with how to handle their former friend suddenly becoming a vindictive deity - trying to make plans to kill him if they must, which is pretty hard when it seems like Cas is always one step ahead of him. Can Dean hold on to enough of his humanity to provide a conscience to Cas and try to steer him toward good acts instead of destruction? This is one that I can’t say has a perfectly happy ending, but it’s a hopeful and imperfect one that’s just right for how the story plays out. 

My Eyes Are An Ocean by entanglednow (10k) - Season 5 AU where Dean averts the apocalypse through a spell that “powers up” all the angels and he sees Cas’s true form - before being rendered blind. Dean tries to adjust to his blindness, Cas tries to deal with his guilt, and it’s just a lovely little read with an ending that’s... *chef’s kiss*

Lots more recs below the cut:

More great reads from some of my favorite authors I’ve recced before:

The Cabin on the Lake by DeanRH (21k) - This may be my new favorite DeanRH fic...at least for the moment. The year is 2152, Sam and Dean are long gone to Heaven, while Cas - stuck somewhere between mortal and angel - remains on Earth keeping vigil, keeping up the hunt, assuming he’ll never see either Winchester ever again. But when he starts hearing things, and imagining Dean visiting him as an angel himself, he starts losing grip on what is and isn’t real, and whether he can trust anything he sees or believes to be the truth. This is one hell of a psychological rollercoaster that kept me guessing right along with Cas until the very end. It also has some super-creepy horror elements, a novel “monster of the week”, and the hot-as-sin smut scenes I always expect from this author.

X Marks the Scot by DeanRH (15.9k) A fun little romp through history in one of this author’s great not-quite-au fics. Crowley sends Dean and Sam back in history to the Scottish Highlands to stop a monster, and while there they meet a blue-eyed clan chief who makes Dean weak in the knees. There’s something familiar about him, too. a very clever au that ties back to canon for an unexpected fix-it. Also, Cas in a kilt. Enough said.

The Hanging Gardens of Babylon by DeanRH (12k) - Sweet and slightly angsty AU. What if Dean was a gardener in ancient Babylon when a strange dignitary came to warn that the tower under construction was to be destroyed by angels? Lush, romantic and sexy with some wonderful tie-ins to canon characterizations (of Dean, Sam, John and of course Cas).

sufficient for thee by angelfishofthelord (21k) - This is a beautiful Cas angst-fest and character study that reimagines how angel grace works, particularly in regards to healing others. It covers the whole of Cas’s arc from Season 4 through a post-series fix-it, is absolutely stunning and features some great world-building in regards to the angels. (One important TW: those with cutting/self-harm issues may wish to skip or at least proceed with caution). I love that I can always count on angelfishofthelord when I need a good dose of Cas!whump and pain.

And laugh at gilded butterflies by ireallydidthistomyself (13k) - another great Dadstiel fic from this author featuring one of my favorite angsty subjects! I don’t know how I missed reading this one before. An AU where Cas is raising (baby)Jack on his own until the angels find the two of them and prepare to seal Jack away in the Ma’lak box. Cas begs them to let him go with Jack, so at least Jack won’t be alone for eternity. Meanwhile Dean is frantically trying to find what happened to Cas, and he gets some unexpected help from Crowley.  It’s sad and sweet and all the characterizations are great. A+ Crowley use here, too.

what stays (and what fades away) by dothraki_shieldmaiden (64k) - a fabulous read with some great art, too, that started me reading a bunch of fic from this author. Cas goes missing, and when he’s found he seems deep under a spell. When they finally manage to awaken him, he doesn’t remember anything of this life with Dean, Sam and Cas in the bunker. The last thing he knew he was a nurse living with his wonderful husband, Dean, and their two adopted children, Jack and Claire. What I loved about this one was the clever twist as to who was behind Cas’s curse and also how well-developed his AU world/existence was. I’m not generally keen on mundane aus or the one-dimensional way a lot of djinn dream fics tend to go for them, but this one managed to capture a believable version of Dean and Cas living a “normal” life without monsters without making it sugary/too-sweet. 

before knowing remembers by dothraki_shieldmaiden (14k) Post 15x04, a wonderful fic that plays with some meta topics in a clever way. Dean and Sam are happy - they have free will and they’ve won against Chuck, even if they suffered some big losses along the way (including Jack). But Dean can’t help but think he’s forgetting something...or rather, someone. Yet every time he thinks he remembers, the name and face of that someone slips from his mind. 

weights on my ankles by dothraki_shieldmaiden (9k) Post-15x03 where Cas ends up going back to the Gas ‘n Sip and working with Nora after leaving the bunker. A bitter sweet divorce-arc AU and what I love the most is how it ends - not perfect, not tragic, just very real and believable. 

15x18 and Post-canon fix-it fics:

Orbital Velocity Around a Celestial Body by LeverDrift (26k) - An angsty but lovely fix-it fic, one where it gets worse for a while before it gets better. Dean pulls Cas from the Empty, where he’d been living in a fantasy world with a dream!Dean who was giving him everything real!Dean is certain he can’t. Dean has to struggle with wondering if Cas would have been better off with dream!Dean instead of him. This is one that will break your heart before putting it back together again as Dean struggles with his self-worth issues.

so good at crashing in by Wintertree (36k) - Another post-finale fix-it where Cas is back, the world is saved, and things are still...not as easy as it should be for either Dean nor Cas. Monsters are gone, there’s no more hunting to be done, and Cas wants to move out of the bunker somewhere closer to Claire, to move on with a proper human life. Dean thinks he can move there with Cas and stay as “best friends”, even to the extent that Cas encourages him to go out and have sex with others/women. (And wants to hear about it after the fact!) But can Dean figure out what he really wants, and what Cas wants as well? A refreshingly unique take on what a post-series life could have looked like for them.

Delicious smut:

Empty by squirrelofcelestialintent (43k) - Every day this fandom makes me rethink my previous squicks and DNWs in fanfic. Here I find myself enjoying quite a bit more dom/sub elements than I normally ever would! I think because I was absolutely drawn in by the breathtaking first chapter, capturing beautifully the emotions of Cas returning from the Empty in Season 13 if he and Dean had confessed their feelings right then and there. But Dean’s self-worth is all fucked up, he feels there’s no way he can be good enough for Cas, especially when his sexual desires run a little bit...let’s just say outside the vanilla and he’s struggling with shame over doing sex work when he was younger. This was HOT and POOR SAM really gets stuck in the middle of, well, hearing more about his brother’s sex life than he ever needed to.

He's My Mate by Hatsonhamburgers (22k) - This fic manages the delightful combination of humor and extreme hotness perfectly. Dean and Cas catch each other in some questionable masturbation situations. This leads Cas to decide he needs to buy Dean some proper sex toys. He’s just helping his best friend out, right? Sure. As I said, hysterical AND hot as hell. 

Generals by nanoochka (9k) - Cas/Dean, Cas/Balthazar/Dean, implied past-Cas/Balthazar. An old LJ fic I found on an ancient rec list that is just scorching hot and a brilliant character study of Cas and Dean. Balthazar decides to invite himself in when he catches Dean and Cas engaging in some frisky business, and it turns into a bit of a power-play between the two soldiers of Heaven. Cas gets DP’ed and it’s all...well. It’s fucking good, read it.

The One With The Preening by HolyFuckingHell (5.5k) Can I do a rec post without including some wing!kink/wing!grooming in it? No, I can’t. (I also really enjoyed some of the other fics in this author’s series including The One With Dean's Horny Movies).

A Single Point of Light by Destina (2.4k) - This is a gorgeous Cas/Dean/Benny Purgatory short! A delicious balance of the two each caring for and caring about Dean in their own, protective ways, definitely a delight for any fans of this threesome.

Short and sweet, fluff to angst:

Snugglebird by almaasi (5.3k) - So, so soft and sweet and snuggly, just like the title. Dean’s things are disappearing from the bunker...and so, suddenly, has Cas. What’s going on? I do love my nesting!Cas fics, so...yeah. If you need a smile this is a good one to read :)

And Cleanse Me From My Sin by thisisapaige (1.6k) - another one for my beloveds who also enjoy wing grooming and sweet Dean-taking-care-of-Cas fluff.

Needle and Thread by Misachan (4k) - Season 5 wing!fic hurt/comfort. Cas’s wings are badly injured, Dean doesn’t quite know what he’s doing, but he’s stitched up Sam and himself enough times. He can do this. If you love caretaker!Dean and vulnerable!Cas don’t overlook this little gem.

Deceptive Preludes by sp8ce (2.7k) - One of those stories that delves into some of the difficulties Cas might have after coming back from the Empty a second time, especially in regards to accepting what’s real or not, understanding Dean, and how both of their communication issues can add to their struggles. Painful but hopeful for the future, felt very believable as I read it.

[jojotichakorn]

my thoughts and opinions on "lovely writer": criticizing the critic

tw for discussions of age gaps, rape, and sex

before i turn into the mean and constantly dissatisfied archer that we all know and hate, i just want to say that i liked this show. i think it's great, actually! gene and sib are appropriately cute, the premise is nice, and the attempt at criticizing the industry is... well, an attempt, which is better than nothing. moreover, "lovely writer" came with gifts because it gave me my new favorite character, so you can't go telling me i'm trying to completely obliterate it or something.

besides, this specific post isn't going to get into analyzing the show as a whole anyway. i won't be talking about any irrelevant plot points, cinematography, sound design, or anything like that, though i could probably write a post just as long as this one about that side of things as well. however, i am here to specifically look at the problematic things that were both criticized by the show and included in the show without any criticism. i'm going to talk about the more serious side of things here, which means i'm going to get serious. and i'm going to be harsh. very harsh.

gene and nubsib: yes's and no's

overall, the relationship between gene and sib was a fair attempt at showing something complex, yet ultimately quite healthy, which i appreciate. there were some things i was especially glad about. the fact that sib dated other people before settling on getting together with gene, for example, makes the whole situation a little less codependent. however, as much as this show prides itself on not wanting to romanticize problematic relationships, there are at least two major problems with genesib.

the age gap (and why it was not needed)

i've tried my very best to give this entire concept the benefit of the doubt. at first, i was convincing myself that they were simply close childhood friends, then i was trying my best to believe that even though sib did have a sort of crush on gene (which sometimes happens to little children), gene only saw him as his younger brother, but eventually, the show gave me no choice, but to deem the entire storyline problematic, because they did their best to romanticize that relationship - from gene's dad seeing the "early signs" to the counting and kissing the cheek turning to counting and full-on lip-locking in the last episode.

i could go into how this could all easily be mended if little sib was shown as kind of obsessed with his older friend, but gene was shown as not being anywhere near interested in the kid. but the real question is - why was the age gap needed at all?

i've researched the age of the boys during the flashbacks to the best of my ability and it seems that gene is 11 and sib is 6 or 7. if sib was the same age as gene (or maybe just one year younger, but not any more than that), not only would none of it feel weird, it would also be quite appropriate to explore that first glimpse of romantic feelings some of us experience exactly around that age. i don't think it's necessary for sib to be much younger than gene (children can be just as impressionable at 11 as they are at 7, and as for gene being surprisingly nice and helpful and the other kids not wanting to play with sib, he could have easily been - for example - bullied by his peers instead, which would have the same effect).

moving forward to the present, i don't think the lack of an age gap would affect the storyline that much either. even if they desperately needed sib to be a university student, they could have that one-year difference i've talked about before, which is not as significant. sib could be in his last year of uni, while gene could have easily written his very first novel during his university years, which would actually make more sense (since that guaranteed him employment and freedom to write after he finished uni; and i would rather believe that he had time to write his first novel in-between classes than in-between shifts at work, which he would surely need to have if he started writing after finishing university).

so that brings me back to my initial question - why was it needed? and much like the show often does, i will leave this one up for your interpretation because i do not have any sensible answers myself.

the issue with sex and consent

"but archer!" - i hear you exclaim - "lovely writer is known for explicitly denouncing rape romanticization in bls, how could there possibly be any problems with consent here?" and i hear you, my dear reader. and you aren't incorrect, "lovely writer" is indeed very explicit at calling out bls for having rape scenes (and i do appreciate that). however, as i'm sure you know, there are different ways in which consent can be taken from a person, and there are different non-consensual acts that someone might perform. for example, there are many different forms of coercion, such as the person being persuaded until they feel like they have no other choice, but to say yes. touching someone or kissing someone without asking for permission are also non-consensual acts. i can go on and on, there are many examples outside of what so many people consider rape.

now, what if i tell you that though there (thank the gods) has been no rape present in "lovely writer", not all scenes with gene and sib are consensual? well, that's what i'm telling you because it's the truth. both the first kissing scene and the scene where gene and sib "try out different poses" have clear coercion in them. the entire "joke" of the scene before gene and sib's first time is literally built upon the concept of "a person is trying to run away from someone, who wants to have sex with them" and it is NOT funny. the later reveal of gene actually looking up how to have sex seems to be there on purpose, to show that everything that's happened is "ok" because gene was thinking about it. as a sensible person, i will only accept actual enthusiastic consent and not someone possibly maybe probably considering it. not to mention that right before having sex, sib asks gene one last time if he is sure, which is great, except it is immediately followed by "i'm not going to let you change your mind anymore", which - daily reminder - you are allowed to stop having sex at any point during the act if you start feeling uncomfortable with it. that's absolutely normal.

now the problem that we seem to run into here is that "lovely writer" appears to think that it's ok to push someone to the limit until they either finally agree or confidently and loudly disagree. the drama has repeatedly shown us that actually forcing someone to have sex is not ok; however, persuading and otherwise coercing someone, as well as taking an approximate guess of them wanting to have sex based on some marginally related factors, is ok. i would like to once again remind everyone that all of that is not ok.

one more issue i want to bring up in connection with sex is something i wish was common knowledge: it is NOT supposed to hurt during your first time. whether you are planning to have vaginal or anal sex for the first time, it should not hurt. and if it does, something has definitely gone wrong and you need to stop. you are not supposed to experience any pain or discomfort during sex, including your first time (outside of desired and therefore intentionally inflicted pain, but that's not what i'm talking about here). i have seen this misconception brought up many times in bls along with the other person "thanking the person who got hurt for bearing the pain to bring them pleasure" and absolutely none of that is normal. stop. please, just... stop.

criticism of the BL industry

there are certainly quite a few things i liked about the way "lovely writer" criticized the many problems that surround bls. i think they dealt especially well with the fan aspect. the breaches of privacy that are considered normal, the toxicity of social media that encourages people to comment on other people's personal life, harass and stalk them - all of that was shown in its full glory (or rather horror) and clearly condemned. it was also interesting to see how easily everyone around sib fell into the routine of having to hide genesib's relationship, just because "that's what's supposed to be done in these situations" - even tum did that without thinking twice.

however, i have not spent the past three years hating gmm for a show trying to criticize the industry not to focus on criticizing the production company and everyone professionally involved with the making of bls. don't get me wrong - they didn't completely overlook that side of things, but i found the way they approached it dissatisfying.

like yes, tum fights with his sister (aka sib's manager) and calls her out for her terrible actions, and the publisher (bua) eventually apologizes for what she did, but all of that feels a bit too... personal. i do not care about these individual stories. i care about you saying that the whole system is broken because it very much is. i wanted manner of death but with the bl industry, and instead, i got an "uwu the fans are demanding we do this, and our hands our tied" (which is a lie) and "uwu i'm just trying to make money" (which i mean... if you feel ok milking even more money than you already have by doing something unethical and immoral, then be my guest, but also go fuck yourself). besides that, i didn't see any criticism of tabloids or exploitative celebrities either (both of which we had examples of in the show), and that was kind of disappointing.

coming back to the fans for a moment, i also think that the criticism of real people shipping was entirely unsuccessful. we basically mostly got an "oh, what if this person's partner thinks they are actually dating", which... if a bunch of people on the internet who do not know your boyfriend personally and make all their judgments from screenshots and their imagination can convince you that your boyfriend is cheating, i've got some bad news for you and also a number for a therapist. partly i know why it was so complicated for them to get into it properly - the issue with real people shipping is an issue of privacy, boundaries, the perception of celebrities, acceptable interests, and many other complex topics. however, it's better to not criticize something than to criticize it badly and inaccurately (because the latter usually leads to even more encouragement of whatever you were attempting to criticize).

aey: the flamboyant villain

aey certainly starts as a promisingly complex character, but the farther we go from his backstory and his family, the less complex and the more evil he gets. eventually, the trauma he goes through is no longer enough to give him a get-out-of-jail-free card, and he loses all remaining sympathy after sexually harassing gene and pretending to drug sib. and i did start this post by saying that i am not to analyze any plot points or characters from the show here; however, i'm saying all this to prove a point that aey is a clear villain in the show. this is further cemented by the fact that by the end of the show he loses the only two people who cared about him, and the very last moment with him in the show is literally just him crying for about 3 minutes. there was no redemption arc, no pity, no revenge - he was left alone and broken, clearly punished by the narrative. and i've got a bone to pick here as well.

one of the first things that we find out about aey is that he is gay, and quite openly so. he is repeatedly described as very feminine by many characters, he flirts with men, he talks about being good in bed, and his entire character is built upon being gay (half of it directly, and the other half due to the fact that his entire backstory and therefore personality is also built upon the fact that he is gay). he is - for the lack of a better term - the gayest character in the show and the only one who is loud about being gay not because he is in love but simply because it is a part of him and he doesn't want to hide it. and he is the villain. not the disgusting publisher or the terrible manager - no, this guy was specifically chosen to ruin everyone's lives. and i can't say i'm particularly happy about that. *british voice* seems a bit homophobic love

not quite queer enough

as i said, aey is openly gay. gene and sib also eventually say that they are gay, gene's father teep is queer, so are tiffy and mhok. but it just doesn't seem to come up as much as it would in real life. the only time anyone has a problem with any of the characters being queer is when we deal with the parents. but knowing actual queer thai actors in real life, we are all aware how hard it can be for them, but it has not come up even once for aey, gene or sib (with genesib only being a problem because they are a "non-shippable couple"). being queer is far from being a non-issue in the industry, and i found it incredibly weird that it was never brought up (and i would also prefer if they brought that up instead of showing the unaccepting parents plot for the millionth time).

same goes for the lack of conversation around queer people on set. i think we all have a wonderful example of how much better a bl can get simply when it involves a queer director and/or screenwriter (gods bless p'aof), gay actors, etc. i also thought it was a missed opportunity that gene being a gay man writing a bl novel was never highlighted. if anything, everyone made a big deal out of him being a man writing a bl - never mind that he is a gay man that is far more qualified to write bls than a straight woman.

in conclusion, there are simply not enough queer issues talked about here for a show that is about queer people facing difficulties while making a queer drama.

tiffy and tum: the good, the bad, and the ugly

overall, tiffy and tum are quite cool. outside of my own personal feelings, i really liked the clear reversal of gender roles they have going on: he knows lots about make-up, she knows nothing about it, he knows how to sew, she knows how to repair a car, etc.

tiffy is also a nice addition to the precious few queer girls we have in bls. however, the way her being bi is executed... it isn't great. when she first talks about dating girls to tum, she says things like "even though i look like this" (implying queer girls have a certain look?) and "maybe it seemed normal because i was at an all-girls school" (which wtf does that even mean?). i think the worst thing, though, was when she assumed tum was gay. my best guess is she thought so because she initially thought that tum and gene were a couple; however, she should be the first person to know that just because he likes men, it doesn't mean that he doesn't like women or any other gender. even though there was nothing explicitly leading me to make this conclusion, this whole thing did kind of feel like the old "flipping the switch" stereotype (meaning, she used to like women, but now she likes men, and both of them can't happen simultaneously).

make it make sense

i think i've never been more confused in my entire life than when i found out that the director of "lovely writer" also happens to be the director of "th*arnt*pe". and if at first, i was asking a lot of questions about this peculiar individual, who went from working on the worst rape-romanticizing show we have ever had to a show that explicitly states that rape is not normal. but the more i thought about it, the less i was interested in him, and the more i was interested in whoever made the decision to hire him. there are dozens of different directors that have worked specifically on bls, and even more that haven't. yet out of all those, you decided to choose this one. the dude, who before your show has only directed the show with the biggest rape-y vibes. that casts a particular kind of shade on the entire show that i simply do not like.

conclusion

at the end of the day, i think what "lovely writer" tried to do was very interesting. it succeeded in some ways and failed in others. frankly, i think this show could have easily been made better if someone queer was involved in making it. that's always true, but especially so, when we try to talk about the issues of making a queer drama. either way, it's certainly a good start to this conversation; however - as i said - i'm still waiting for my manner of death but with the bl industry. this was unfortunately not it.

[marjansmarwani]

would’ve loved you for a lifetime

Tarlos || 7.6k || ao3

Prompt: Characters are secretly married and one of them is hurt at work 

-----

The story of how TK and Carlos came together, and how they almost missed out on their future before it even got a chance to start.

For the wonderful @acejuddryder on her birthday! I hope you enjoy this AC and that you have a day as good as you deserve 💕

I came across this prompt a while ago and @bellakitse encouraged me to write it and I am so glad she did! I have been wanting to do a non-linear narrative for a while, and this worked perfectly for that. Shoutouts to both @officereyes and @firefighterstrand for helping me with bits and editing for me, you’re champs 🥰

--------

Judd watched as TK went about repacking the first aid kit with a smile on his face, humming to himself. This had been going on for the majority of their 24-hour shift now and in hour 23, Judd’s patience was finally up. 

“Okay kid, what gives? You’ve been grinning like the butcher’s dog all shift.” 

TK glanced up from his work, startled, “I have not.” 

“Yeah, you have dude,” Marjan informed him as she tossed him more supplies, “want to fill us in?” 

“It’s not just today either,” Paul noted, coming around from the other side of the engine, “you’ve been suspiciously chipper for a few days now.” 

“Can’t a guy just be happy without getting the third degree? Jeez.” 

“There’s happy, and then there’s this.” 

“You too Mateo, really? I thought you had my back, man.” 

“Don’t guilt-trip the probie,” Paul admonished, throwing his polishing rag at TK for emphasis, “just tell us what’s up.” 

TK was saved the trouble of dodging the question by the sound of his phone ringing in his pocket. 

“Saved by the bell,” he declared as he fished it out of his pocket and stepped to the back of the rig for some semblance of privacy. 

“Don’t count on it lasting,” Judd called after him, “we’re getting right back into this as soon as you are done.” 

The others returned to their tasks, eager to finish with the end of their shift in sight. Their focus was soon broken by the sound of a gasp and a clattering sound from where TK stood. They all looked over to see TK, standing on the other side of the engine bay, expression stricken and body trembling. 

“TK?” Paul asked hesitantly but got no response. Not even an indication that their teammate had heard him. They crossed over as a group but Judd got there first and reached down to grab the abandoned phone. The call was still going. He watched as Marjan approached TK, comforting hands reaching for his and Paul reminded him to breathe in his even, calming voice as he lifted the abandoned phone to his ear.

“Hello?” 

“Mr. Strand?” 

“No, this is his friend. He seems to be...a little out of sorts right now.” 

The voice on the other end sighed, “that’s understandable. Would you please just inform him that his husband should be heading into surgery shortly and that he should check in upon his arrival so that the doctor can give him an update?” 

Husband? Judd was so stuck on that word he almost missed the rest of the sentence. He managed to unfreeze his brain long enough to answer, “Of course, I’ll make sure he gets there. What hospital?” 

“St. David’s.” 

“Thank you.” 

Judd hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment. He felt the eyes of the team on him but he took a steadying breath before he looked up. When he did he ignored the curious gazes of the others and looked directly at TK, “they said I should tell you that your husband should be heading into surgery shortly, and that you should check-in when you get there so a doctor can update you.” 

TK nodded, but said nothing else. No explanation, no objection that they were wrong; that he didn’t have a husband. 

Because as far as Judd had known as of a few minutes ago, he didn’t. 

“I need to go,” TK finally said and his voice was so pained it almost hurt to hear, “I need to get there.” 

“I hate to break it to you man,” Paul said gently, “but you are in no shape to drive right now.” 

“I’ll take him.” 

The words were out of his mouth before he had even fully processed them. But when the eyes of the team fell to him, he repeated them: “I’ll take him. Clear it with Cap?” 

The others nodded and he hoped they had picked up on what was left unsaid: tell Owen that he apparently has a son-in-law he doesn’t know about; tell the Captain that TK is a wreck but that Judd had him. 

“There’s only a bit of shift left, we should be able to hold down the fort. Go, and keep us updated.” 

Judd nodded at Paul and the others before reaching out a hand to put on TK’s shoulder, “C’mon kid, let’s go.” 

His voice and guiding hand were gentle, and TK barely nodded before allowing himself to be led out of the station and to Judd’s truck. He climbed into the passenger seat silently and didn’t utter a word for the whole drive. All Judd could do was shoot him concerned glances and try to push back all the unanswered questions in his mind. Now was not the time for answers —his one and only concern was making sure TK was okay. The rest could come later. 

----------

They started on a Tuesday. 

As things went it wasn’t a particularly notable day for a beginning, but there wasn’t much notable about their start. 

They were two people colliding; contrasting desires meeting in the in between, in the common ground. They wanted different ends but the means suited them both just fine. It was hot and heavy; it was rough and quick. It was needy and physical and everything they wanted (if only for a moment). 

Then eventually, it was more. 

Not at first —it wasn’t more for a long time. For months it was just blowing off steam, just mind blowing sex. There were a few dates of varying success, but they continued their dance around each other and the feelings they both had. Then TK got shot and they both watched their potential future teetering on the edge, ready to topple over with the weight of uncertainty. Eventually TK woke up to the chaos of adjusting to life again and a solar storm, and in the quiet that followed the chaos they found themselves in each other. 

From there it was simple: after the start they had it couldn’t be anything but. In all that time they had gotten to know each without really meaning to and now they found themselves fitting together like a pair of gloves; fine on their own, but infinitely better together. They slipped into rhythms like they did embraces, and they were happy. 

They dedicated time to getting to know what they were without an audience and without really realizing it, they had become a secret. A badly kept one, but a secret none-the-less. They existed in the peripherals, their life together a separate entity from their lives as seen by the rest of the world. 

From the outskirts they became TK and Carlos and as time went on, there was less and less space between their bodies, their names, and their hearts. 

And with each passing Tuesday, they grew closer. 

---------

Judd kept stealing glances at TK. 

They were in the waiting room of the hospital, and TK had spent every moment since they sat down anxiously bouncing his leg while he fiddled with the necklace he always wore. 

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay.” 

“You don’t know that Judd.”

His voice was strained and quiet, so unlike the TK Judd was used to. He followed his gaze to the door the nurse had informed them the doctor would be coming through to give TK an update. That was nearly 10 minutes ago and TK’s eyes hadn’t left the door once. 

Judd had so many questions but wasn’t sure how to broach the topic. How do you ask your friend about a spouse you didn’t know they had when they are full of fear of losing them? 

He was saved the trouble of trying when TK spoke beside him, “I know what you’re thinking, just go ahead and ask.” 

His voice was resigned and Judd felt bad for even thinking about the question, but he did need to know. 

“You have a husband. Is it...someone we know?” 

TK pulled his glance away from the door long enough to glance at Judd. After a moment, he nodded: “Carlos.” 

“How long?” 

“Not long.” 

“Are you…” he began, but trailed off. He wasn’t sure what to ask. He had been leaning towards “happy,” but that seemed wrong in this context.  He didn’t know what the right thing to say was;  he had no idea how to approach this situation. He wished Grace was here. She was so much better at this kind of stuff.

They were quiet again until TK spoke, “I love him Judd.” 

The admission was made quietly, TK’s voice low and sad. Judd turned to look at him and TK met his eyes as he continued, “I need him in my life. I don’t know what I’d do without him. I can’t lose him, Judd.” 

Judd swallowed as he studied TK’s expression. It was full of a familiar fear; one that he had felt anytime he thought about the mere idea of losing Grace. He reached out a hand and gave TK’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. He knew better to promise that it would be alright — they had no way of knowing that. Instead he settled on a truth he knew. 

“You’ll get through this,” he told TK firmly, “and you won’t be alone.” 

--------

Time passed and they began to learn the mysteries of each other past the physical. Before TK knew just the spot to kiss to make Carlos moan each and every time, now he could tell you the name of his childhood dog and that when he was 5, he had wanted to be an astronaut. 

Carlos still knew all the ways to make TK melt under his touch but now he also knew how TK had pushed himself in the fire academy so he could feel worthy of the legacy of being the legendary Owen Strand’s son. Their secrets emerged from the shadows into open hearts, more and more revealing themselves with each passing day.

Stolen hours became endless evenings and frantic hookups became languid movie nights. Time passed and they began to feel at home with each other. Soon it became normal for TK to show up at Carlos’s home at the end of his shift as it slowly became more of a home to him. But, then again, the person who lived there was starting to feel an awful lot like home too. 

Their connection was generally known; they weren’t trying to sneak around. But while seeing them dancing at the bar or grabbing lunch at a food truck became more and more commonplace, the depth of their relationship was still a secret from most —including them, for a time. Michelle likely knew, Paul surely suspected; but the fact that they were falling more and more in love each passing day was a surprise to even them. 

It was TK who said it first; in a casual moment without a second thought. Carlos nearly tripped over his own feet when he heard it, but it had been like a dam breaking and soon it became commonplace, almost like breathing for them both. 

Time went on and their love grew. Time went on and they grew together —learning each other's edges and finding out where they fit. They were a puzzle, slowly coming together until the right piece was found. From there, it was a quick solve before the final picture revealed itself. 

And what a picture it was, Carlos thought to himself as he lay in his bed, watching TK sleeping soundly beside him. There were times he had to stop himself from reaching out to touch him, to make sure he was real. Sleep didn’t come easily to the other man and once it was found it was easily lost, so Carlos refrained, allowing his gaze to do the work for him. After everything he could scarcely believe they were here, after everything he couldn’t believe that they had found each other.  

These were his favorite nights, he decided. The ones where he got to fall asleep to the sight of TK beside him, the nights he was lulled to sleep by the sound of his breathing. He knew he wanted more nights like this — really, he wanted every night to be like this. 

But it was too soon for that, so for now he would savor the nights they had.

[continue reading on ao3]

[valenshawke]

Weekly Writing Report - May 13, 2022

One of the things that has really helped me keep on track on a lot of things is a daily or near daily log of things. Because data helps me make decisions or realize that hey, I can do this instead of that. My health tanked in 2020 and it's been an interesting time of tinkering with things to figure out what works. The only two things that HAS worked is keeping track of all the important things (weight, blood pressure, sleep, etc.). It’s the reason why I’ve lost weight and maintained that weight loss. I have something that works, so I’m going to apply it elsewhere. 

This is the first post of a weekly writing report. I’m probably going to tinker with this and figure out what works for me in terms of content and format. But there will be two major parts to this: Fanfic work and my “original” work. I use original loosely, it’s heavily derivative and I’m going to have to change a lot, and I mean a lot, of the lore. But that is needed, I have a much more complex view of institutions, culture, and politics than I did when I started this thing (I was 16). 

And maybe the writers here on Tumblr can give me advice on how to keep writing or proceed when I’m stuck. So, that’s the preamble. 

I will say this, while I will strive to be weekly, I’ll probably miss a week here and there. Much like the health tracking, I can miss a day here or there every couple of months. I can have a bad month. But I’ve also learned it’s important to start again. With that, more under the cut…

Fanfic

The Clare and Miata Meet Fic. Word Count as of 3 PM Pacific: 29,847. Words written since last report: NA (This is week one). Longest fic to date and lots of scenes still to write. I haven’t done outlines and I’m strongly considering doing so on some level with this fic. I have a “roadmap” in the early pages of the fic but given how often I get stuck on certain scenes, maybe a more detailed outline of what I want to do and how to get to beginning, middle, and end scene-by-scene will help. Otherwise, I know exactly how this fic is going to end, which is odd because I’m never quite sure how to write endings but this one already has the ending. Hell, it even has a real title! 

Clare apologizes to Miria. Need to start an outline. So the goal with this one is to actually write an outline and then figure out how long it’s going to be. Do other authors have an idea of how long their works are going to be? Maybe worth asking a professional author. How can you figure it out from an outline? Well, regardless, this one I’m definitely going to start outlining. So that’s the goal before the next report.

Miria’s Nightmares. Sequel to “Awakened Nightmares.” Word Count as of 3 PM Pacific: 1,091. Words written since last report: NA. This one, I feel more comfortable leaving it only as a roadmap. I only really need to write three nightmares and the in-between scenes to show that Clare knows, understands, and is trying to say encouraging/supportive things to Miria in her own awkward way, and Miria’s final dream. I have the ending done actually. This might be as long as my normal fics (about 10,000 words). 

“Original” Work

The Vampire Story. Work Count as of 3 PM Pacific: 97,015 (Whut…). Words written since last report: NA. … Teresa of the Faint Smile, give me the strength… This is one where it might actually be beneficial that I have a document of world-building in place as I write it. When I was 16, it was heavily derivative of Vampire: The Masquerade. As I got older, I tried to go more to Dune and The Godfather. That sounds so utterly pretentious, but you know what? Go big or go home. This will help me get away from the VtM. I still want this story to fall on the science-fiction side of vampires as opposed to fantasy. But it’d be more soft-science for obvious reasons unless I can get a better understanding of biology. The other big problem is I hate my main character. Like, utterly despise him. Given I was 16, he’s a wish-fulfillment self-insert. I’m going to probably finish this draft under this configuration of characters (I have 3 main characters, 2 alive and 1 dead. The dead one is pretty prominent as I never quite make it clear if there is a life after death or if she’s just a hallucination). Either way, she’s the one I want to be the live character and the current main character is the dead one since I just like her more. I did start an outline years ago, but it was years ago and this one will definitely benefit if I outline everything, and I mean everything. If nothing else, to see if it actually works for me. So, that’s next week’s goal. Outline what you have and the parts you need in-between. I’ll try to figure out the details as I write it.

Overall: I need more original ideas. Honestly, this is where I should probably do my own research on subjects that I find interesting. So, next week, read at least one article on transhumanism. 

So ends this week’s report. 

[neon-junkie]

Duality - Chpts 1,2&3

Summary: There's a handful of things you hate, like the men who continue to pester you at the Saloon after you've told them no, or the way strangers look at you when you decide to wear pants. But the one thing you hate that most is Micah Bell. But if you hate him so much, then why are you allowing him to wrap his hand around your neck as he grinds his crotch down against yours? Is he using you? or are you using him?

Pairing: Micah Bell x f!Reader

Word Count: 8837 (ongoing work) 

Rating: NSFW Warnings: Depictions of Violence (Reader is fine)

Tags: Dead Dove: Do not eat, Fights/Arguments, Slow burn, Hate sex, Enemies with benefits, Enemies to lovers, Pity sex, Vaginal sex, Outdoor sex, Creampies, Blood kink, Knives, Choking, Breath play, Rough/Manhandling, Heists & Robberies, Nipple sucking/licking, Making out, Sloppy kisses, Dirty talking, Grinding.

Notes: This fic was inspired by the gang of children that recently decided to start hurdling abuse at me simply because I enjoy Micah character. If he bad then why he make my pussy go brr?? I ain't ever gonna stop writing for him, somebody's gotta love the ratman so I guess I'll volunteer as tribute. This piece is inspired by @deputytrash​ and their work called ‘Micah Bell is a Rat Bastard,’ that I can’t actually link here because Tumblr hates links:))) so please go stalk them for the original fic. shoutout to all the other Micah fuckers out there; we're kinda fucked up but hey, we ain't hurting anybody<3

[Chapter 4]

Some men are born with the purest of hearts; they're full of good intentions, kindness, willingness to help others. They want to see the world go round, they enjoy watching the days go by with their loved ones around them. They want nothing more than love and equality, happiness for everyone, and they strive to achieve that. Those men, such as Arthur, are ones that you obviously enjoy for such reasons, and you enjoy watching them on the sideline, smiling at the way they make everyone happy. You've tried dating those men before and something felt... off about them, almost fake; you wish to enjoy such relationships with the purest of men, but you've never been able to sit in that saddle comfortably. The leather smells off and something constantly jabs at your tailbone. It's fine, honestly, to not sit comfortably in that saddle. Others can enjoy those men, ones who deserve them, ones who are just as pure and wholesome as those men they seek out. You're happy for them, you enjoy seeing them enjoy each others company, they really do deserve it. Only that leaves you with the problem of 'who the hell am I meant to fall for?' There are others who are sometimes split down the middle, with good and bad intentions, men such as Dutch who eventually crack under so much pressure, as expected. But these men have never really taken your fancy either. You curse the Gods for creating you with no intentions to seek out those pure of heart, or even slightly pure of heart. Why can't you be considered normal? You're a good person, yet you don't long for someone as good as you. 

Instead, those who have only ever walked the darker path take your fancy. Those men who have no good intentions in them, who only look out for themselves and sometimes (but rarely) the few people closest to them, if you're stupid enough to get close to them, to begin with. You enjoy the challenge, you enjoy taming the beast, being the one person that someone so wild can trust. It's a generic trope that you've read in romance novels where the princess falls for the villain, but they always seem to have the happiest of endings? and the stories themselves are so juicy, so rich and full of layers. The generic happy couple trope gets so boring, nothing to read into. But if you're given a story about a well-layered villain who softens out within time then you'll eat said story off the dirt if you have to, it's always so rich and fulfilling, though you never expected to end up in one. "Which book are you reading today?" Mary-Beth asks you as she joins you on the beach, leaning back against the log you're leaning against. You do miss sitting on the cliff at Horseshoe Overlook, peering up at the landscape whenever your eyes need a break from being so engulfed in whatever book you were reading. But there's something just as good as looking out at the water, hearing the waves lapping against the shore as you read, enjoying the river breeze on a hot Lemoyne day. "The same as last time, that one centered around the villain," you tell her, your eyes momentarily peeking up to watch as she sits down beside you. "Still? Oh, you and your dark fiction," Mary-Beth replies with a laugh. She'd given your book that nickname after you explained the plot to her. Mary-Beth, as wholesome and pure as she is, couldn't quite understand why you'd get so engulfed in a book where the princess falls for the villain, completely ignoring the stud hero and running off with the bad guy instead. After explaining how layered the villain was, and how his actions were the result of past trauma, she somewhat understood but decided that she's happy with her sappy romance novels. That's understandable, your taste isn't for everyone, and you'd both agreed on that. "Like I said, I just find it more interesting," you reply, your eyes trailing over to the landscape. "Which book have you got?" you ask. "Oh, the same still. I've almost finished it! The poor man in it has finally been turned away from that woman, though they're both in love," she replies. "But from what you've told me, she's not exactly... the best person in the world?" you ask. "I guess not. Maybe I am into a little bit of dark fiction then, hm?" Mary-Beth questions with a soft laugh, finally opening her book to pick up from where she left off. "Maybe-" you begin to speak, but the sound of shouting draws your attention back to camp. You and Mary-Beth peer over your shoulders to watch the commotion in the distance. Ugh. It's Micah again, screaming at Bill for being so kind to the poor dog Jack had found, Cain. He's hollering away, something about not being soft on strays, that they'll only follow you around for food, whatever. You try to hold in your laughter when Micah does the last thing you'd expect, literally barking at Bill before storming off. "That man sure is evil," Mary-Beth comments. "I still ain't sure why Dutch allows him to follow us around, a bit like Cain really," she frowns, turning her gaze away. "He is, funny that he can't see just how much of a dog he is," you laugh along, returning your focus back to your book. "Has he bothered you again recently?" she questions, knowing that your last run-in with him was only a few days ago. "No, he ain't spoke to me, he ain't even looked at me." "Good, probably because he's still got that black eye you gave him," Mary-Beth replies, trying to hold back on her laughter. "Well, he did deserve it." Micah had pestered you a few days ago, stirring up some shit simply because he was bored. You were sat by yourself in camp, playing a solo game of solitaire whilst the wind was quiet, your cards not blowing away for once. He waltzed over, as always, looking like he owned the place; he only acts that way because he sucks up to Dutch, a bit of a teachers' pet, though he's definitely never stepped foot in a school. "Hey," Micah says to you. Well, you were unsure if he was speaking to you as your head was down, focused on the cards, so Micah quickly snapped when you didn't reply. "I said hey. You deaf?" he asks, lightly tapping the back of your shoulder. You let out a long sigh as you roll your eyes and look up. "I didn't know you were speaking to me, Micah," you reply. "Well, who else would I be speaking to, doll? There ain't anyone else around here," Micah says with a laugh, waving his hands about to gesture that nobody was nearby. "I can see that now," you sigh. You begin to put your cards away, knowing that if Micah's here then there's no way you'll be able to play this game in peace. Whatever, you were stumped anyway, considering calling this game quits, and Micahs appearance had encouraged you to do so. "What're you doing?" Micah questions. "I was playing solitaire," you reply, shuffling the cards back together and returning them to their container, an old mints tin that you found fits the cards much better than their old paper box. "And why have you packed up, hm? Is it 'cause I'm here?" Micah asks, knowing the answer. "It is," you say as you stand and put the tin in your pocket, beginning to walk off. The last person you ever want to talk to is Micah, but it seems he really wants to talk to you as he begins to follow you. "Where're you going? I ain't that bad. I know we don't exactly get along but you can't fault me for trying to right these wrongs with you," Micah begins, playing the white knight card as always, batting his lashes as if he hasn't made a handful of remarks towards you in the past, ensuring there's a thick barrier between the two of you. "I ain't interested in making friends with you, Micah. Now leave me be," you snap back, picking up the pace as you storm past Dutch's tent, hoping he'd pick up on the small commotion but his head is buried deep in his current Evelyn Miller book. "Such mean words coming from such a pretty face," Micah pouts, still on your trail, letting out his generic laugh. "Wouldn't you rather have friends than enemies?" "I'd rather have nothing to do with you, Micah," you tell him as you come to a halt, stopping in the dead center of camp. If Micah won't leave you alone then hopefully someone will step in, as their eyes had begun to peer over to the commotion; even Dutch has put his book down. "Easy there, sweetheart," Micah coos with his generic laugh. He goes to speak again but you're quick to cut him off. "I ain't your sweetheart, Micah. Quit calling me those names," you huff. "Of course, you ain't. I like a bit of fire in my women but you're just a bit too reckless for my taste," Micah tells you, his tone slowly turning to frustrated. He's quit the innocent act, lowering his hands as he had them raised as he followed you throughout the camp. If he can't win you over then he'll ensure you never even slightly consider him a friend, beginning to insult you to burn whatever was left of that bridge. "Good, I'd hate to be your taste. What an unlucky woman she must be for the likes of you to have eyes on her." Micah lets out another laugh as he takes a step closer to you, a little too close, and you're quick to cut him off before he can open his mouth. "Back off, Micah. Don't you try and get close to me," you order him. "Why not, hm? You scared someone is finally gonna put a woman like you back in her-" That's enough. Without hesitation, you clench your fist and swing for that vermin of a man, if you can even be kind enough to call him a man to begin with. You were aiming for his nose but hit his cheekbone instead, which is just as good as his eye had swollen up from the impact. Micah stumbled back and hit the ground with the most satisfying thud you'd ever heard, the sound still making you smile whenever you think about it. You didn't stick around much after that, burning the image of Micah lying on the floor clutching his eye into your memory before turning heel and marching off, wandering off into the trees so you could cool yourself off and devilishly admire your bruised knuckles. You refused to bandage them up, even after Charles had practically begged you, but you were eager to show off your trophy, even flaunting it at Micah from a distance whenever he came into your line of sight. His eyes hadn't met yours since, but you could feel his burning glare on you whenever you two were within ten feet of each other. You'd even overheard him attempting to bitch about you to Kieran, who simply nodded along to prevent himself from getting pulled into this mess. Needless to say, you and Micah do not get along. There's a handful of camp members that don't get along, but your burning hatred for each other seems to stand out the most. You're always eager to step in whenever Micahs attempting to chew someone's ear off, and he always gives you that same laugh as he attempts to mock you, but he often turns heel and storms away, calling you a bitch or whatever petty insult he has on his mind. But since that interaction, Micah has stayed well clear of you. Dutch probably told him to stop pestering you after you'd almost knocked his lights out, though you doubt that as Dutch ended up doing something that only seemed to make your 'friendship' worse. ----------- Another day, another dollar, or whatever the civilized phrase is. It's a quote you've heard within towns and cities, something bosses drill into the minds of their workers to stop them from realizing that they're being used as workhorses for less than pennies. At least out here you can work on your own terms, your only boss is Dutch and he always ensures that everybody gets a fair cut. Why slave away in a factory when you can rob some folk that needs robbing and make a few hundred off them? Dutch has a heist planned for you today, one that he says needs a woman touch. Karen is the only other gunwoman in the camp but Dutch has told you that she's a little too reckless for the job. Dutch knows that Sadie is also a gunwoman but she's still in mourning, arguing with Pearson every so often, but she isn't ready to step up to that rank yet.  "And that's why I need you for this job. It's genric and old fashioned of us, but there's a payroll heading up into Rhodes and I was thinking you could play the damsel in distress, hunched over at the roadside, pouting sweetly as you ask them for a ride into town," Dutch tells you outside his tent, a week or so after your last run-in with Micah.  "And if they don't stop?" you question.  "Why would they not stop? A pretty lady such as yourself asking for a ride? When they're already heading that way? They must be some cold-hearted folk in order to turn down such a simple request," Dutch explains.  "What will you and the others be doing?"  "We'll be hiding nearby, waiting for that opportunity to rob them. Once you're on board then they should hand over the cash, I don't see why they'd want a poor innocent woman to be hurt. Hosea will be waiting in Rhodes to bring you back to camp, and you won't need your guns for the job. A kind, working woman such as yourself wouldn't carry them anyway," Dutch replies with a grin, stubbing out his cigar with the toe of his shoes.  The plan seems simple enough, and what have you got to lose? So, you agree to the heist, heading into your tent so you can change your appearance to look like the average working woman. You dress in a simple skirt and shirt, your hair neat and your makeup simple, just how the women in Rhodes dress.  Arthur gives you a ride to the location, your horse staying back at camp, as well as your guns. You feel a little uneasy heading out of camp without them, but the boys are hiding behind what's left of a wall nearby. You overheard Arthur protesting with Dutch, saying they shouldn't be robbing folk so close to camp, but Dutch assured them that this would be fine.  Dutch has brought along Arthur and Lenny, and unfortunately, Micah, who still hasn't spoken a word to you, but his eye is now unfortunately better. Dutch didn't even mention to you that Micah would be coming along, seeing as your paths weren't meant to cross. This was meant to be a simple holdup job after all, only this gang seems to be cursed as things always go wrong.  You're walking along the road, acting as if you're exhausted. The sound of a wagon approaching can be heard, and you peer over your shoulder to see it coming into view. You begin to wave your arms, signaling for them to stop, and thankfully, they do.  "Are you alright, Miss?" one of the men questions, the one driving the wagon. There are two more men on horseback behind them, not many guns for a wagon that's carrying payroll.  "I do apologize to ask such a request but my horse bucked me a while back, I'm only trying to head into town. Are you heading that way? Would you be able to give me a ride?" you question. You play out the usual body language, slouched shoulders, batting your lashes, and pouting your bottom lip. This is a mans world, after all, but you know exactly how to play the game. The driver and the shotgun speak to themselves quietly, clearly bickering about the fact that they're carrying payroll, but they eventually come to an agreement.  "You're welcome to climb on the back of one of the horses, though we can't let you on the wagon, Miss," he replies. Well, that's good enough, at least you're still somewhat of a hostage. "Oh, thank you! I really appreciate it!" you smile sweetly, heading over to the nearest hired gunmen and climbing on the back, loosely holding onto his shirt as you get comfortable on the horse's rear.  They return to their journey, barely making it a few meters down the road when one of those slimy Lemoyne Raiders appears from behind a boulder and attempts to hold them at gunpoint. Your eyes peer over to where the gang is hiding and thankfully, Dutch steps in, one gun pointed at the driver and the other at the rival gang member. You're still unsure on what Lemoyne Raiders are. Inbred? Wannabe military? Either way, they're stupid enough to fire without warning, and completely miss Dutch, though Dutch doesn't miss him. The plan goes to shit and you're caught in the middle of the gang war, your gang and the Lemoyne Raiders fighting each other, as well as the wagon.  The gunman that you were holding onto slouches over his saddle, a bullet ripping through his side, thankfully missing you. You think Arthur had shot him, but either way, you're pushing his body off and stealing his horse, riding out from the commotion. What help are you now without your guns? It's best that you run away and fast. As you near the camp, you notice a small group of white hats approaching round the bend - lawmen, so you decide to keep riding forward towards Braithwait Manor, dipping off into the trees before they can notice you. You'll find somewhere to hide out until nightfall, riding through the thick forest until you find a shack down south, close to Shady Belle, but far enough from the commotion so the law shouldn't tread down here.  The stolen horse is hitched by a tree and you're about to head inside, but the sound of hooves approaching startles you. You hide behind the tree, not providing much cover, but hopefully enough so you can decide how to approach the incoming stranger. If it's a lawman then you can simply burst into tears whilst saying that the horse bolted and you couldn't steer it up into Rhodes, and if it's a fellow gang member then you'll be fine. Well, it is a gang member, just you were hoping for anybody but Micah. He slows Baylock to a halt as you come into his line of sight, stepping out from behind the tree looking like an angry kitten.  "You alright?" Micah asks, swinging his leg over the saddle and hopping off his mount.  "Go away, go find somewhere else to hide. Shoo," you wave your hands at him, only making Micah laugh instead. "What's a matter? Can't I hide here with you?" he questions as he approaches you.  "No, you can't. Go bother someone else, you're the last person I'd ever want to hide from the law with," you huff. Micah isn't budging, he continues to approach you until he's stood in front of you, grinning from ear to ear as he lets out that awful chuckle of his.  "You don't mean that. Besides, how're you gonna defend yourself without your guns, huh?" Micah questions, resting his hands on his gunbelt. "Well, you know that I can swing a punch, can't you, Micah?" you tease, giving him a smug smile which wipes the grin off his face, turning into a frown.  "And here I was just tryna look out for you. Nasty thing, aren't you?" Micah spits.  "I am, and I ain't welcoming to you, Micah," you huff again, resting your hands on your hips.  "Now, I'm gettin' real sick of the way you talk to me, girl. I ain't been nothin' but nice to you," Micah tuts, taking another step towards you. He's pressed up far too close to your chest, puffing his own out as his icy blue eyes scowl into yours. "You may be a big girl in the eyes of Dutch, but you ain't to me."  "I don't care, Micah. I don't need your approval, nor your company, so scram!"  This time, Micah goes for you, reaching out to grip ahold of your arm. He takes a firm grasp of you but before you can find out what he was planning on doing, you're pushing him away, shoving him back by the chest. He stumbles backwards but doesn't slump to the ground, catching his own fall as he glares at you. His death glare makes your face turn sour and you begin to foresee that one of you isn't going to make it back to camp. Micah lunges for you again, grabbing onto your shoulders as he begins to try and tackle you to the ground. You manage to shove him off and land a punch to the same cheekbone, only it's not enough to stop him. He continues to fight you, eventually managing to shove you to the floor. He tries to climb onto you, attempting to pin you to the ground but you land a swift kick to his baby balls. He lets out a choke as his body goes limp and you jump at the opportunity to shove him onto his back, pinning him down instead.  Micah attempts to grab onto you but you're quick, taking his own knife from its holster and pinning it beneath Micahs chin. He stops, freezing up and removing his hands from you, lying in the dirt with his swollen eye locked onto yours. There's silence, no words spoken from either of you, just heavy panting and the sound of the trees rustling. Micah licks his lips, tasting the blood that has trailed down from his nose, and eventually speaks.  "Go on, girl. Do it," he tells you, his Adam's apple bouncing against the blade as he speaks. You don't reply, so Micah jumps down your throat again. "I said do it! Show me what a big girl you are," he says with a laugh. "If I am to kill you then I'd rather do it with my bare hands," you spit at him, pressing the knife sharply on his neck. From the way Micah attempts to flinch back, you're certain you've managed to cut him. Good, he deserves it.  "Do it then. Go on, get rid of me already. Just do everyone a favour," Micah replies, his hands raising yet again, doing that generic innocent pose even as he has a knife held to his throat. As much as you'd love to, you know the consequences for killing other camp members. You could say he died in combat but Dutch knows that Micah can take on a bunch of Lemoyne Raiders with his eyes closed. Plus, it's far too suspicious for you to be the one breaking the 'bad' news. But you might as well scare some sense into Micah, maybe choke him unconscious then bail back to camp before he can wake. Hopefully, he'll finally get it into his thick skull to stay away from you, though you doubt it, but at least you'll have fun.  You remove Micahs own knife from his neck, stabbing it into the earth beside his head. He watches you with wide eyes, attempting to look at his knife but you grip onto his throat. You know how to choke someone to death, and you know how to choke someone unconscious, so you go for the second option and tighten your grip under his jawline, avoiding his windpipe so that he doesn't stop breathing.  He lets out a choked exhale as you begin jabbing your fingers into his throat, pushing more than hard enough to eventually knock his lights out. You know you look a mess, covered in dirt with scruffed up hair, a glare on your face that could easily kill a man; Micah looks up at you through half-lidded eyes, keeping his gaze locked onto yours as he attempts to breathe. You can hear the pressure on his throat with every breath, his lips remaining parted, blood still trickling from his nose, and his eye swelling up more by the second. His clothes are just as dirty as yours, his hat has fallen off his head a long time ago, his white pants are almost brown from rolling in the dirt, and his red shirt is missing a few buttons from where you've grabbed him.  Micahs parted lips quickly turn into a grin as his eyes begin to fall shut. You've never seen him pull a face like this, but he looks... pleasurable. He somehow has enough energy to reach up and grip onto the waistband of your skirt, trailing his fingertips along the band before settling each hand firmly on your hips. He's... enjoying this, isn't he? Your thoughts are confirmed when Micah opens his eyes again; his pupils are blown, wide and full of lust, gazing up at you like a piece of meat, ready to pounce on you (if he could.) You want to feel sick. Why don't you feel sick? Why isn't your stomach turning at the sight of Micah taking pleasure in your attempt to kill him? You push down harder on his neck, wishing you were gripping onto his windpipe instead. His smile eventually fades away, his eyes rolling shut as he lets out slower muffled breaths. His grip on your hips falls limp and you know he's finally unconscious.  This was meant to be the part where you run, heading back to camp before he can wake, praying he never even looks at you ever again. But you remove your hand from his throat, noticing how his body twitches as he begins to breaths properly again, and using the same hand that you just choked him with, you land a harsh slap right across his face. It's loud and sharp enough that it echoes throughout the forest, startling the horses and scaring a few birds away. You instantly regret your decision, your hand throbbing from how hard you slapped him, but the way Micah jolts awake gives you a sickly satisfaction.  He begins coughing, propping himself up on his elbows as he attempts to catch his breath. You don't move off him, sitting back on your knees, his legs beneath yours, watching in delight as he returns to the conscious word. Micah lies back down, his deep breaths eventually turning into a chuckle as his eyes meet yours.  "I knew you were just like me," Micah says with a sniff, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. His nose is still bleeding, turning his moustache red, and now his cheek as he's smeared his own blood across his face. "I knew you were sick..." he laughs.  "I ain't sick, Micah," you frown.  "If you ain't then you won't enjoy this-"  Micah somehow has enough energy to flip your bodies over, pinning you down to the ground, narrowly missing his knife that is still jabbed into the dirt. You attempt to push him off, trying to kick him in the balls again but he's pinned you down as well as you had pinned him down. He does exactly what you feared he'd do, wrapping his own rough hand around your neck, pressing on those spots under your jawline that you unfortunately enjoy.  You try and fight it, attempting to gulp down air, attempting to push him off. But the more you fight him, the more he holds you down, and the more you find yourself enjoying it.  "Give in to it, sweetheart. Just let it happen," he tells you, the words that you didn't want to hear, but only because they're sickly yet tempting.  Micah adjusts his grip and finally hits the nail in the coffin, your mind turning cloudy, the blood pulsating through your brain. That feeling in your stomach begins to burn, trailing down your body and making your pussy clench. You hate this man so much, yet you're allowing him to do this to you. "Atta girl," Micah praises you as you stop fighting him, letting your eyes shut and your mouth part.  You're weak enough for Micah to shift his weight, parting your thighs with his knees and sitting between them after he bunches your skirt up. One hand remains on your neck whilst the under sneaks underneath your waist, pulling your hips up onto his knees. His crotch pushes against yours, his hand trailing over your clothed thigh, moving up to your knee as he adjusts your legs so they're wrapped around his waist. For some reason, you cross your ankles, only encouraging him to grind his crotch against yours, rutting his hard-on against your pussy.  The mewl that escapes your lips is definitely accidental, but Micah tilts his head up to let out a hum of approval as he watches the colour continue to drain from your face. "Such a pretty sound coming from that pretty face of yours. You're goin' pale tho, darlin'. Least you ain't still spittin' venom at me," Micah smirks. The blood from his nose drips down onto your own face, painting your cheek, and the sight of his blood on you makes his pupils turn wide again, licking his lips as he finally removes his hand from your throat.  You gasp, gulping down air, letting out a few coughs as you manage to fill your lungs back up. Micah barely gives you enough time to come back to reality before he's crashing his lips against yours, pinning your hands on either side of your head, grinding his crotch down hard against yours. You let out a whimper as he manages to brush his crotch perfectly against your clit, making him chuckle against your lips as he kisses you. Are you kissing him back? Unfortunately so, but only because the taste of his blood on his lips is making your arousal grow, and he's grinding against you far too perfectly to ignore.  You eventually lap away at his blood, his nosebleed finally coming to a halt, and the feeling of his prickly moustache becomes more and more prominent. It's far too annoying for you to make out with him and ignore it, and it eventually irritates you to a point that you break the kiss.  "What'cha stopping for?" Micah pouts, halting his grinding for the moment. "Your 'stache is too long, it's itchy," you tell him.  "Well, I'll make sure it's trimmed for next time," Micah replies as he rolls his eyes. "There ain't gonna be a next time, Micah," you scowl back.  "Oh, that so?" Micah chuckles, doubting your claim. "Well, I'll just have to make this worthwhile," he informs you.  Micah moves his hands off your wrists, sitting up on his knees and pulling his knife out of the ground. He wipes the dirt off on his jeans then grips onto your undergarments, pulling the fabric away from your skin so he can slice down the crotch, ripping apart the garment and leaving a large hole right in the middle of them. "Micah!" you snap as you sit up on your elbows. "I'll buy you a new pair," Micah monotonously replies, a large lack of sympathy in his voice. You could have sworn he rolled his eyes as well. He holsters his knife and rips apart the hole even more, almost ripping the garment in two, exposing your pussy for his pleasure. Micah hums in appreciation as he gazes at the sight, pushing your thighs apart as he dips his head down and spits onto your folds. You'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy it, and Micah picks up on the glisten in your eyes as he straightens his back up and begins to unfasten his pants, leaving his gunbelt on the ground beside you.  Micah pulls out his cock, an average looking one, rock hard and flushed pink at the tip. You're surprised that his pubes are neatly trimmed, just as dirty blonde as his hair, but he keeps his pubes neater for whatever reason. He ruts his cock over your folds, slicking himself up with his spit and your juices; to say you aren't wet is also a lie, you've been soaking the second he put his hand around your throat.  Micah finally pushes into you, slow and steady, letting out an "ooh" once he's fully sheathed inside of you. "It's always tighter if I don't finger you," he comments, licking his lips as he moves his hands underneath each knee, spreading your legs apart as far as he wants. Why are you allowing this man to fuck you? You're not sure, though you don't regret it, especially when he begins to thrust into you, surprising you with the way he rolls his hips, the tip of his cock hitting that spot inside of you with every thrust. If someone had told you this morning that you'd end up spending the evening with Micah Bell thrusting inside of you, after the two of you had had a fight and ended up aroused by it, then you probably would have punched them too after informing them that they're drunk. But here you are, allowing Micah to fuck you senseless, pounding you into the dirt as he lets out surprisingly pleasant sounds. "Shit!" you gasp as Micah shifts his weight, moving his hands off your knees to wrap around your waist. He pulls you up into his lap, lifting your ass off the floor and angling your body perfectly so he's directly hitting your g-spot with every roll of his hips. Micah's fucking you like a rabbit, fast and unforgiving, eager to make your walls tighten around him so he can fill you up with his cum.  Micah begins to bare his teeth, hissing through them as he pounds you. You're a moaning mess beneath him, not holding back on the volume of your moans as nobody is nearby, and your volume level is filling Micahs ego more and more by the second. "That's a good girl," he tells you, his hazy eyes meeting yours. "I always knew you'd be a good fuck, the feisty ones always are," he chuckles.  You roll your eyes at his comment, making him laugh instead. Ugh. That stupid laugh of his, the one he always drags out only because he knows it gets on everyone's nerves. You think fast, moving one hand back onto his throat to cut that dreadful sound out. His lips remain parted, slightly smiling as he continues to fuck you, enjoying that irritated glisten to your eyes. You tighten your grip on his throat, forcing a choked moan from Micahs lips. Micah's already hunched over you but you pull him down to your level, speaking right against his lips as you order him to "fuck me harder." "With pleasure," Micah manages to reply, gasping and straightening his back the second you let go of his throat. Micah keeps one arm underneath your waist, holding you firmly on his lap, whilst the other moves between your legs. His hand rests on your stomach, his thumb moving down to begin massaging your clit, flicking the bud in circles, his cock throbbing every time your muscles begin to shake. He's returned to letting out moans, followed by the occasional grunt through gritted teeth. You've seen Micah come undone before, you've seen that feral look in his eyes as he loses his cool and guns down an army of people. But this? This was a different look, just as feral but fueled by a mixture of lust and spite. Is he just using you for a fuck? Yes, but you're doing the same with him. And do you think you'll end up fucking him again? Possibly, but only if you can watch the life drain from his face again. It's sickeningly arousing, but Micah seems to enjoy it too. "You're gonna make me cum," you sigh, your thigh muscles beginning to shake, your eyes scrunching shut as your head rolls back in the dirt. "I know," Micah confidently replies, rubbing his thumb even firmer against your clit. What a cocky piece of shit, though you admire the confidence. You can't believe you're moaning his name as you orgasm, panting and shaking, wrapping your legs even tighter around Micahs waist as he pushes his cock deep inside of you and earns his own release. His hands grip onto your hips, his forehead eventually slumping on your chest as he pants and groans, filling you up with god knows how many months worth of cum, maybe longer, depending on whoever else has been stupid enough to sleep with him.  Micah eventually straightens his back and pulls out of you, letting your legs slip from around his waist as you untangle your body from his. He looks debauched, his hair and clothes scruffy and dirty, not to mention the dried blood smeared across his face and moustache. You're certain you look just as bad, spending your evening rolling about in the dirt with the man you hate the most. Hate? Or hated? as you somewhat like the sight of Micah like this. Maybe you could tolerate him under these terms, and only under these terms. You attempt to sort your appearance out as you stand up, stretching your legs, hearing your knees click after being bent for so long. Micah does the same as he pulls himself up, tucking his cock away then picking his hat up. He whistles for Baylock who had wandered off into the forest, probably not wanting to be around... that. The horse you'd stolen has managed to unhitch itself and disappear, and you honestly don't blame them, but that means the only way back is hitching a ride off Micah or walking for an hour.  "Looks like you're riding with me," Micah tells you. "I don't want to be seen trailing into camp with you, not when we both look like this," you tell him as he mounts Baylock.  "How's about I drop you off on the edge of camp then spend a few hours away? Would that make you happy?" Micah offers, holding out his hand at the same time.  "It would," you tell him, swatting his hand away and climbing up onto Baylock on your own terms. "So, you'll let me fuck you but won't even take my hand?" Micah chuckles as he clicks his tongue, letting Baylock go at a soft pace as you ride side-saddle.  "Yep, and don't forget that you owe me new underwear," you remind him.  "Oh, I won't forget to buy you some new panties, Miss. I'll buy you a whole set of lingerie if it means I get to cut it off your body," Micah teases but you know he's serious.  "If that's what you want," you reply with a shrug.  "You'd let me?" he questions, peering over his shoulder at you.  "I would," you reply. For some reason, you lick your thumb and attempt to wipe some of the dried blood from his cheek. Maybe the sight bothers you, but Micah doesn't seem to mind as he lets you clean him up, his eyes occasionally flicking onto the road.  "You wanna give me a kiss when you're done with cleaning me up?" Micah asks with a smirk.  "No," you frown, pushing his face away from yours. He laughs as he looks forward, returning his focus back to driving.  You and Micah don't speak another word on the short journey back, apart from a "thanks," from you as you slide off Baylock. He drops you on the edge of the forest, letting you walk down the path back into Clemens Point. You manage to sneak back into the camp; the only person who saw you in your state was Charles who simply said "I won't ask," when you gave him a look that said 'please don't.'  You feel much better once you've cleaned yourself up and got cozy in bed, though your body aches from fucking in the dirt, and you're almost certain you're going to have bruises around your neck by the time morning is here. But the fresh memory of having hate sex with Micah only seems to arouse you again; just like Micah said, you are sick, just as sick as him. But if this unspoken arrangement is a good way of letting out anger then why not continue it?  --------------- It's been a week since your accidental encounter with Micah. He's still not replaced your underwear, nor has he spoken a word to you, but you've picked up on those disgustingly arousing glances he sends you from across the camp. You've been tempted to chew his ear out about not paying you back yet, but he's not been in camp often, and when he has been in camp, it's been during the day and around others. The bastard knows what he's doing, and he definitely knows that you're still angry that he hasn't repaid you yet. You've been assigned guard duty tonight, doing lap after lap around the outskirts of the camp until 3am, which is when you can tap Bill awake and send him on his way to take over. Well, 3am is here and that's exactly what you're doing, prodding Bill awake and handing him the shotgun.  You somehow didn't notice that Baylock had appeared amongst the horses, but you do notice that distinct white hat on the edge of camp. Micahs stood on the beach, looking out at the water with his arms crossed, a cigarette between his fingers. Finally, the opportunity to chew his ear off. You stroll over, ensuring nobody else is awake, not wanting to question why you're eagerly approaching the man you despise.  "Micah," you greet as you stand next to him.  "There she is, just the girl I was looking for," Micah greets you as he exhales his cigarette smoke.  "You ain't looking for me, Micah. You're stood here having a smoke," you roll your eyes.  "I was hoping I would have fucked that attitude out of you. Seems I ain't fucked you hard enough," he says with a laugh. You peer over your shoulder, reminding yourself that nobody is awake, nor nearby, but you don't want to risk your chances. "We don't talk about that in camp, alright?" you threaten. "Fine, whatever you want," Micah shakes his head as he finishes off his cigarette, flicking it onto the floor and stomping it out. You're about to begin questioning him on your missing underwear but he begins to walk off, heading further along the beach.  "Where are you going?" you scowl as you follow him.  "Over here so I can sit down. Was gonna ask if you're joining me but it seems you are," he says with a laugh, leaning back against a large boulder. You frown at him but settle beside him, turning your attention to him again.  "I only came over here to ask you-"  "-s'on your bedroll," Micah tells you.  "What?" you question.  "That new underwear I promised, I've just placed it on your bedroll whilst you were on guard duty. Plus a little something extra to make up for how long you've waited for it," Micah answers, his eyes fixated on the water.  "Hmm..." you ponder, unsure if you believe him.  "What? Don't you trust me?" Micah questions as he finally looks over at you.  "Not at all," you scowl again.  "Well, you'll see that I'm telling the truth sooner or later. Go check now if you want, I don't care," he shrugs.  You stare at him again, trying to look for any signs of lying, but he gives you none; his nose doesn't twitch, his eyes stay glued to yours, he doesn't rub the back of his neck. Micah is probably telling the truth, knowing that you'll whack him over the head with a bottle next time you see him if he lies to you.  "See, told you I ain't lying," Micah snickers as he looks back out over the water. You don't reply, you just lean back against the rock and turn your attention to the landscape. Your brows remain furrowed, arms loosely crossed, enjoying the sound of the waves lapping against the shore, the moonlight only just providing enough light as you're far enough from camp.  A few minutes pass and Micah turns his attention back to you. "Why're you still here?" he bluntly asks.  "I ain't sure, I'm going to bed," you shrug. You begin to stand, barely getting off your ass when Micah reaches out and grabs you by the waist, pulling you back down onto his lap with a slight thud. "What do you want?" you snap, picking his hands off your waist in disgust, making him laugh at the sight.  "Just wanted to spend some quality time with my favourite camp member," he replies, though you're unsure if he's being sarcastic. "Well, you ain't my favourite," you huff.  "Always so feisty towards me, ain'tcha? What's wrong? You still hate me even after you let me fuck you?" Micah questions with a throaty laugh, grinning from ear to ear.  "I hate you even more now," you tell him, shuffling about on his lap until you're straddling him, one leg on either side of his hips, your chests almost touching.  "That'd explain why you've just got comfortable on my lap rather than walking away," Micah chuckles again, knowing he's damn well in the right. He slips his hat off his head, placing it on the ground beside him, not wanting it to get in the way. You let out a sigh as you roll your eyes. "Ain't I allowed to just take some attention from you, Micah?" you question, batting your lashes and removing the frown from your face.  "You're allowed to take whatever you want from me, s'long as I get something in return," Micah tells you as he wraps his arms loosely around your waist. "So it's agreed? That we'll just... enjoy this pity sex? But only because it lets off some steam," you place the offer down, finally trying to decide on this agreement.  "It is agreed, sweetheart. You can call it pity sex or whatever else you want, but maybe I'll just fuck you so good that you'll end up likin' me?" Micah chuckles, pulling you onto his lap more as he speaks to you in a husk tone. "I ain't your sweetheart and I ain't ever gonna like you, Micah Bell," you spit. "Sure you ain't," he grins. So, this is what it's come to. You're sleeping with the enemy, pity fucking the man you hate the most, allowing him to pry into your private life and between your legs just for a little bit of satisfaction. Do you care? No. Should you care? Probably. But you're getting pleasure, finally, after waiting for so long. The gang is always on the move, running from the law and whoever else is chasing you, depending on where you are and who you've pissed off. You've flirted with other gang members before but it's never escalated anywhere, so if sleeping with Micah means you'll finally stop humping your pillow every night then why not?  And maybe you can fuck some sense into him, maybe a bit of kindness of basic respect? You doubt it, but it'd be nice. A life where Micah isn't chaotic would be perfect, or one where he entirely didn't exist. But this is the way the world currently is, so you'll just have to make do with what you've got.  You're still going to bark back at him whenever he kicks up a fuss in camp. If anything, you're eager to put him in his place. Maybe you can punish him every time he steps out of line? Maybe this... enemies with benefits, or whatever you want to call it, could whip Micah into shape and prevent him from being such an annoyance towards everyone. Probably not, but you can still hope.  Micah tightens his grip around your waist as he lets out a pleasing hum, tugging you down to his level so he can kiss you. You're reluctant as his moustache was so irritating last time, but to your surprise, Micah has trimmed it to prevent the irritation, his 'stache brushing against your upper lip rather than prickling it. Micahs kisses are a lot more tender this time, not covered in blood and heavy breathing, not battling for dominance whilst both your minds are hazy from all that choking. Micah moves one hand up to entangle his fingers in your hair, cupping the back of your head.  Your lips soon slide open, your tongue greeting Micahs. He bites your bottom lip softly, letting the skin slowly slip from his grasp before kissing you again, earning himself a soft moan as you shuffle onto his lap more. Things are slowly turning heated, Micahs kisses getting sloppier yet firmer by the second, drawing more moans and whimpers from your lips as he continues to make out with you.  You pray that nobody has woken up, not wanting them to see... this. How would you attempt to explain this? Could you say you tripped and fell into Micah after not seeing him sat there, and you'd just accidentally kissed him on the way down? Could you say this way a new way of fighting, to show him what he's missing out on if he'd just be a good boy? Yeah, those excuses are rubbish. But you're sure you'd hear anyone approaching, not unless they're stealthy.  Micah moves his hands to your chest, unbuttoning your shirt, stopping at your lower ribs. He breaks the kiss so he can pull your shirt open, cupping each of your breasts and leaning his head into them. His mouth latches onto one of your nipples, sucking at it surprisingly gently, flicking his tongue over the nub, tenderly kissing it. His hand massages them, kneading them softly. Micah moves onto your other nipple, repeating the process, sucking on your tits as he lets out a satisfying hum.  "I ain't sure what my favourite part of you is, these things, or that nasty bite of yours," Micah says with a soft laugh between kisses. "Oh, you have such a way with words," you roll your eyes. "You know, I think we'd get along much better if you'd just tease me with these things in camp," Micah replies, returning his focus to your breasts. "I'll remember that in the future," you say, making a mental note. Maybe you could find a way to manipulate him? Using your womanly charm to tame this beast? It's a push but it's worth a try. He continues to suck at them, making your arousal grow, and you know he's getting aroused as you can feel it pressed against your thigh. Micah moves off your breasts and gently pulls your head down, enjoying another kiss, still tender, not the style you expected a man such as Micah to have.  Micah breaks the kiss, urging you off him. "Now, come on. Before I start thinkin' with my dick and fuck you right in the middle of camp. But you'd like that, wouldn't you, you whore?" he questions, buttoning up your shirt for you.  "You admit to thinking with your dick, yet I'm the whore?" you smirk, pointing out the flaw to his logic.  "Real smart, ain'tcha girl?" Micah mocks, shooing you off his lap once your shirt is fastened. Micah stands first, pulling you up afterward. His hand lingers for a little too long in yours, though you don't move your hand away either. He begins walking with you back to camp, readjusting his hat as he walks. Micah dips before you approach camp, not wanting to risk anybody latching onto your agreement. Thankfully, nobody is awake, but you head straight to your tent anyway. You fasten the tent flaps behind you, lighting your lantern, and begin getting ready for bed. You notice the tailor box on your cot and open it up, revealing the replacement underwear, as well as the 'little something extra' that Micah had promised you. It's a full set of lingerie, an expensive-looking set too, a frilly white chemise, corset, and stockings. The chemise is definitely that short for a reason; you wonder what Micah's planning, though he did say that he wanted to cut it off you. You hope to at least get some use out of it before he does that.

[lets-get-kraken-boys]

Yandere! Hawks/Keigo Takami X Reader: Caged Songbird~

(Description: Ooo, y’all are in for a treat today~! Hey, my first Gender Neutral AND Yandere fic on this account! And no less, it’s our favorite manwhore, Hawks! I sincerely hope you enjoy reading my story and if you like this fic, don’t worry, I have more yandere fic on the way~! Thank you for your time, consideration, and all the love you royals have shown a simple jester like me!)

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Fanfiction Lingo

(Y/N) - Your Name

(N/N) - Nickname

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“Normal speech.”

‘Inner thoughts.’

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Requester: No One!

Reader Gender: Gender Neutral (They/Them)

Style of Story: Oneshot (Possible Part 2?) // Manipulative, obsessive, and controlling behavior; hints of stalking; kidnapping

Word Count: 1.7K Words

WARNING(s): Yandere themes, so if you aren’t okay with obsessive/possessive/psychotic natures then please don’t read!

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[P.S: I DO NOT SUPPORT YANDERE TENDENCIES IN REAL LIFE!!! Do not confuse me writing this subject as encouraging it, there is a difference from reading/writing yandere stories V.S real life situations. Please, if someone in your life is behaving like the character in this story (i.e. obsessive, possessive, controlling, abusive, psychotic, sociopathic, LIKE A WACKADOO, etc.) get immediate help! That behavior in the real world is not romantic, sweet, or NORMAL! Stay aware and stay safe.]

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“Baby bird, wait up!” the last person you wanted to talk to right now, Hawks, giggled as he drifted down to glide next to your frantic self. Even though you were already speed walking down the sidewalk away from his apartment where the two of you had previously been 20 minutes ago, you tugged your jacket closer to your frame and scurried faster through the drafty night in a desperate attempt to make him leave.

“Go away, Hawks. I’m done talking with you tonight.” you mumbled as he continued to spin around you in an almost teasing way that further pissed you off.

“Ouch, (N/N)~,” Keigo grabbed his chest where his heart is while floating directly in front of you to block your path with his massive scarlet wings, “Not even calling me by my first name anymore? C’mon, what happened to ‘my hero~’ or ‘Mr. Stud~’? Not even ‘bird brain’?” he mocked in fake shock.

You scoffed and stepped past his fiery feathers, marching down your path while shouting back, “You don’t get that lovey-dovey crap from me tonight!”

Though the rest of the world was dark in the wee hours of the night, the flickering street lamps guided you to the train station that would take you back home to your apartment that you thankfully hadn’t moved out of yet, even though Hawks constantly  whined about you ditching the “dingy” place in favor of the two of you living together in his over-the-top penthouse. You had no roommates to notify that you were heading back after a few days with Keigo and you had long ago left your parents’ house to live on your own so you pressed on, blocking out his pouty, annoyed huffs of air in favor of dreaming about your cozy bed waiting to coddle you in its embrace with no fear of sharing the space with anyone.

“(Y/N), slow down for a second! Why are you acting so weird?” you heard Keigo’s voice and jogging footsteps sound from behind you. You recognized the feeling of his hand trying to circle around your wrist but before he got too comfortable, you snatched it away from him and swiveled your body back to meet his teasing hooded eyes.

“I’M acting weird? What about you! You brought this onto yourself, stupid!” you hissed while stepping a foot back.

Though that action didn’t make him falter, instead he stepped with you and stared you dead in the eye, “What did I do, hummingbird?” he asked with another sly cock of his head.

“Really? Me yelling at you in the penthouse wasn’t enough,” you growled, “You were checking through my phone while I was in the shower like a total CREEP, Keigo! What were you thinking, that I was just gonna come out of the shower, see you looking through my private messages with friends and family without you previously asking for permission to do, and I would say “Oh, no worries, love!” Are you nuts or something?!” you hollered at the hero whose smirk made you want to gift him a punch straight in the face for his cocky attitude.

“It’s fine, baby bird, I’m just checking to make sure everything was okay! You’ve been distant with me lately~,” his eyebrows twitched up and he gave a small pout as his wings slightly drooped to the pavement.

“Wait, hold on, we’ve been on a few dates for the past two months, no where near officially dating yet, and you think stuff like that is okay? You trust me so little that you have to go behind my back and search through my private things, to what? Prove a point to yourself or something? How did you even get my password?!” you barked in his stupidly attractive face.

“Love, you’re overreaching,” Hawks strode over to you and quickly locked you in his strong arms, though you tried to squirm away in disgust, “There are things in this world that a civilian like you wouldn’t understand. Heroes have to make so many hard decisions and as your hero, I have to make sure to be just that, save you from everything and everyone, even yourself sometimes.”

He leaned his head on yours and you heard him take a deep breath in only to let it out with an almost loving sigh while he continued, “There are bad people in this world that I encounter every day and I don’t want you accidentally stumbling on them through the internet. You know, it’s really rude of you to have kept Tinder on your phone even though we’re already in a committed relationship. Good thing you have me here to help!” he chuckled, his hold on your body tightening with each passing second.

Thoroughly creeped the hell out and not one to look past such obvious red flags though his looks tried to deceive you, you finally broke free of his tight grasp and shoved him back a few feet with shaky hands. You kept your hands outstretched in front of you, though you trembled in fear, and spoke in a fake strong voice, “That’s it, Hawks, we’re done, even though there’s nothing really to be done with in the first place. No more dates, no more hanging out, just flat out don’t talk to me ever again, okay? You see me on the street, walk the other way. I sincerely wish you the best with your dating life, but here’s a tip for the next person you seek out, don’t go poking your head into their personal life until you two are more than close. Goodbye, Keigo.” you finished, breaking out into a sprint towards the train station, leaving a flabbergasted Hawks in the dust.

Keigo stood where you had just been and simply stared at your retreating form as you sped off into the night. His eyes glazed over in pure jealousy and rage as his wings poofed up behind him to physically show his anguish. He stood under the buzzing streetlamp for a couple minutes more, processing the information, until he let out a small snicker. His snickering turned into giggling, escalating to laughter, and finally into an uncontrollable hollering. He bent over himself in the fit of insanity and after gulping down the lost air in his lungs as he looked back up to the place where you had previously stood with a menacing glint sparking in his honey-colored eyes.

“(Y/N)’s just...confused...yeah. Yeah! My god, how didn’t I see it before?! I’m such a bad boyfriend! But I can fix this,” Hawks shakily straightened back up and pulled his jacket tighter to himself, smoothing down his ruffled hair and wings, “Yeah, I can fix this.” He concluded to the empty air with a satisfied hum.

“Don’t worry, (Y/N), Keigo’s here to save you yet again~,” Hawks’ crazed smile flashed in the night as he flipped down his wind-resistant glasses.

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~ Timeskip to 10 minutes later and we’re with you! ~

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You panted for air as your run slowed into a brisk walk yet again. Now about a half a mile away from the complete psycho you had been with, you felt much safer now than any time you’d ever been around him, pro hero or not. You swiveled around on your feet and looked behind you as you walked down the street backwards, taking careful steps and surveying the area to make sure that weirdo hadn’t followed you. No one behind you on the lonely road, no one hiding in the allies or on the rooftops you could see, and no bird brain flying behind you in the air. It was almost eerie how alone you were but you still smiled, finally free.

“Thank goodness, that was getting awkward. I’ve really gotta stop letting guys with pretty faces fool me into a date.” you huffed to yourself as you remained walking backwards. Pulling out your smartphone from your jacket pocket, you swiped through your device and pushed on the phone app to call your mom to let her know that instead of heading back to your apartment you’d like to spend the night with them, no doubt in your mind that if Hawks was determined enough he probably would have scoped out your place already since ‘heroes have connections’ and all.

As you tried to press the ‘call’ button, you heard the sound of something swiftly cutting through the air behind you but before you had time to react your phone was launched out of your loose grip. You watched as the fast moving object shot and stuck into the ground, having entirely pierced through your phone and the solid cement, rendering the device useless. Nothing but fear raced through your veins as you recognized the weapon as one of Hawks’ scarlet feathers you had happily stroked not so long ago.

Before you could book it once more down the empty street, you felt two strong arms wrap around your arms and torso. You yelped as they constricted around you like a snake wrapping around its prey and began wildly thrashing your legs, trying to wiggle your way out of your captor’s hold. You heard the “hero” sweetly coo in your ear, almost like he was trying to calm a restless baby, and you suddenly felt big gusts of wind push around your body and through your desperate squirming you realized that you were no longer on the ground.

“Relax, baby bird,” Keigo sighed in content as he swung your body up and into his arms, pinning your arms to your side and carrying you like a royal being saved by their knight, “We’re just going back home so you can...calm down a little! You’ve been under such stress lately, haven’t you? That’s probably why you lashed out! I’m so sorry for not noticing sooner, love.” Tears of frustration blurred your vision as your legs thrashed as hard as they could, but nothing could loosen the man’s tense grip.

“Let me go, you...you psychopath!” you screamed out, fast wind whipping past your face as Keigo sped back to your prison.

“Awe~, (Y/N), don’t cry,” Hawks nuzzled your head, a purr rumbling in the back of his throat as one of his feathers brushed away the tears dripping past your cheeks, “Your hero will take care of everything now~!”

~

~ The End ~

~

[pocket-luv101]

Summary: Mahiru is an actor. To promote his upcoming movie, he must pretend to date his co-star. (KuroMahi, Actor AU)

“This is the most ridiculous marketing tactic I’ve ever heard of! I’m not going to date someone to promote a movie. The movie’s plot should be enough to draw people to watch.” Mahiru argued. He sat across from the movie producer and the man’s expression didn’t change. He turned to his manager for help. “My contract said that I will go on interviews to promote the movie. I won’t date a stranger.”

“The person will be your co-star so he isn’t a stranger.” His manager’s words took Mahiru aback. He didn’t expect him to agree with the producer so quickly. “This will help your career as well, Mahiru. You entered this industry onto a year ago and this will be your first major picture. Fake relationships are more common in Hollywood than you’d think. You’re an actor so this should be easy for you.”

“What if my co-star is in a relationship already? It won’t be fair to them or me.” Mahiru desperately searched for a way to change the producer’s mind. He understood that gossip magazines would draw more attention to the movie than a short trailer could. On the other hand, he couldn’t agree with their plan. “I’m an actor but my job is limited to my time on set.”

“Then we’ll find another person for the lead role.” The producer said coldly and a rock dropped into Mahiru’s stomach. He tightened his hands into fists on his lap. The movie was important to him and he was excited to be the lead. He had only starred in small indie movies and this was the first production where he would be the lead.

Beyond that, the movie was an adoption of the book series, The Stray Cat. His mother loved the books and she would read it to him each night. She had died when he was young and he planned to dedicate the performance to her. Mahiru now felt conflicted about the role because he didn’t want to date his co-star. He bit his lip and debated what he should do.

A knock on the door broke the silence in the room and they turned towards the door. Mahiru was confused to see Kuro enter but this presence calmed him. Kuro walked into the room and he placed a stack of papers onto the table. “Sorry to barge in like this. Hyde wants to make a few changes to his script but he needs the producer’s approval. He asked me to deliver these notes right away. Can’t deal.”

“Hyde considers this a few notes?” The producer sighed and flipped through the binder. “It will take me all night to read through these. He doesn’t have the decency to wait until my meeting ends before he gave this to me. The Servamps may be talented and powerful in the industry but that family is haughty. Are you their new assistant? Tell Hyde that I will email him later tonight.”

Kuro didn’t correct him and tell him that he was Hyde’s brother. His family had various roles in the entertainment business and they were influential. Many people would treat him differently once they learned of his name. Luckily, he was a voice actor and only a few knew his face. “Hyde is already writing revisions to the story so you should go talk to him right away. He said something about changing the setting to the North Pole.”

“Fine.” The producer said and then he turned to Mahiru. “We’ll talk about your decision at tomorrow’s meeting. Think about it carefully.”

“Thank you for your time today.” Mahiru politely bowed to the producer yet his voice was a little stiff. His manager started to speak with him but Mahiru stopped him. “May I have a moment to think about this alone, Takashi?”

His manager nodded and then left the room with the others. Mahiru followed the others outside and he walked down the hall alone. He thought over what he should do. Pretending to date someone as a marketing scheme was outlandish to him. Mahiru was grateful for Kuro’s sudden appearance because it gave him a night to think over his decision. He didn’t know how he was able to save him so many times. The man was the main reason he didn’t want to agree to the producer’s plan.

For the past few years, Kuro and Mahiru had been secretly dating.

He noticed Kuro standing at the end of the hall. Mahiru didn’t know if his thoughts had summoned him or if Kuro had simply waited to speak with him. He was happy to see him after the stressful meeting and his steps quickened as he walked to him. Kuro bought a can of orange juice from the vending machine next to him. As Mahiru stopped next to him, he handed the drink to him.

“Congrats on landing the role. How did the meeting go? You looked tense when I came in.” Kuro whispered to him. While Mahiru tried to hide how uncomfortable he was with the director, he was able to read his expression easily. He subtly took Mahiru’s hand and squeezed it tenderly. “Do you want to drink this outside? The fresh air might help.”

“I don’t think we should. Someone might overhear us.” He answered in a soft voice so Kuro would be the only one to hear him. Mahiru glanced at them and he was glad that they were alone in the hall. He pulled Kuro to an empty office next to them and locked the door. He didn’t want anyone to over hear their conversation and possibly discover their secret.

Mahiru pulled the curtain closed as he thought of how he should tell Kuro about the director’s plan. He turned to face Kuro and leaned back against the cold door. “Misono will be in New York for a week so he gave me the key to his office. He said I could use this room if I need to talk to you while we’re working. No one should be able to overhear us while we’re in here.”

Only a few people knew about their relationship. There were times Mahiru wished he could go out with Kuro without worrying that someone would see them. He met him in high school and they had been close ever since. No matter what challenges they faced, Mahiru was happy with Kuro. He sat in a chair and told him about the meeting.

“I don’t know what we should do. Acting like a couple on a movie set is different than pretending to date someone for a movie.” Mahiru sighed and his gaze fell onto his lap. He felt Kuro’s lips brush over his hair as he stopped in front of him. He placed his hands next to him and his warmth surrounded him. “He says this is normal in Hollywood. Is that true?”

Kuro didn’t know how to respond to him. He had told him how important the movie was to him and he wanted to encourage him. On the other hand, he didn’t like the thought of someone pressuring Mahiru to date another person. A lot of things in the entertainment industry were fake. It was difficult to find honest people like Mahiru. “You already signed the contract so they can’t replace you easily.”

“I’m glad.” He smiled at his reassuring words. Mahiru touched the gold bell that hanged around Kuro’s neck and twirled the string around his finger. He couldn’t help but feel a little worried though. “The producer made it clear that he won’t be happy with me if I keep arguing with him. I don’t know why he’s so fixated on this plan to market the movie.”

“It’s an easy way to draw attention to the movie. The paparazzi are troublesome but using gossip can help us sometimes. A fake relationship is one of the ways to do that. I don’t agree with them.” He had grown up with reporters following his family for a story. “Hyde is the screenwriter for the movie. Maybe he can talk to the studio and ask for a new producer.”

“It’s okay, Kuro. I think I can handle this on my own.” He didn’t want to rely on Kuro and his family. Due to his family’s name, people would pretend to be Kuro’s friend with the expectation he would help them become famous. Mahiru never wanted Kuro to think that he was like the ones who hurt him. He fell in love with him for the kind and strong person he was. “It’s like Licht said, my hard work will shine through and show people that I’m the right one for the role.”

“Licht likes to say crazy things but that one sounds reasonable. Are you sure your uncle didn’t say that instead of Licht?” Kuro joked. He was happy to hear Mahiru giggle lightly and finally smile again. While Mahiru didn’t voice his thoughts out loud, he knew the reason he wanted to face the issue alone. He respected how strong and independent he was but he wished he could do something to help him. “Have they chosen an actress to be the female lead yet?”

“No,” He shook his head. “Hopefully, she’ll disagree with the plan as well and the director will give up on promoting the movie with a fake relationship. If only the character was a man and you could be my co-star. The irony would be funny.”

“Mahiru.” He was surprised by the sadness in Kuro’s voice when he said his name and he looked up at him. There was a mixture of affection and longing in his red eyes. He wondered if the director’s comment bothered him more than he thought. Kuro rested his forehead against Mahiru’s and said, “You don’t want our relationship to be public. I understand but I hate feeling that we have to be a secret like it’s something shameful. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“It’s hard to not tell people that we’re dating— especially when someone tries to flirt with you in front of me. You’re mine.” Mahiru wrapped his arms around his neck and pressed a small kiss onto the corner of his lips. “But this is the best way to protect your career. The tabloids will write stories about you if they knew that you’re with a simple man. I heard Hugh discuss it with you the first night I met your family.”

“What?” Kuro’s brows furrowed and he leaned away from Mahiru so he could look into his eyes. “Hugh warned me to not date you but I told him I didn’t care. I love you.”

“I overheard that part too. Honestly, I was hurt when I heard Hugh say you shouldn’t date me but he was only looking out for your career. I want to protect you too, Kuro.” Mahiru had never told him about the night because he knew how important family was to Kuro. “Thinking simply, Hugh won’t have to worry about you dating a ‘simple man’ if I’m also a famous actor.”

“You’re not a simple man to me. Hugh shouldn’t have said that. I don’t care what reporters write about me or what the world thinks. The only thing that matters to me is you.” Kuro cupped his face and kissed his soft lips.

“Good morning, Sir.” Mahiru greeted the producer. He arrived at the meeting early so he could discuss his decision with the man. He didn’t want to waste the meeting with an argument. “Thank you for the opportunity to play the lead. I will do my best to make this movie a success but I can’t agree to a fake relationship with my co-star. Is there something else I can—”

“Oh, there’s no need for that anymore.” The director gave in quicker than Mahiru expected him to. His explanation shocked him further. “Last night, Kuro Sleepy Ash Servamp contacted me and asked if he could audition for the role of the antagonist. He’s a voice actor so he never auditions for live action movies like this. This will draw a lot of attention to our movie. I gave him the role right away.”

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation and he looked over his shoulder to see Kuro and Hyde enter. He sat next to Mahiru while Hyde spoke with the producer. While the others were distracted, Mahiru reached under the table to lightly touch Kuro’s hand. It was obvious that he only auditioned for the movie so he wouldn’t have to pretend to date his co-star or quite the production. “Thank you, Kuro.”

There was a hint of a smile on Kuro’s lips as he said, “This is my first time acting on screen. Maybe we should practise our lines together and you can give me tips. You’re the star of this movie.”

“You’re already a talented voice actor, Mr. Servamp.” They needed to pretend as if they were meeting for the first time. He hoped they could be together more openly now that they were acting in a movie together. Reporters wouldn’t question why they were together. “I look forward to working with you.”