#not coming back in 3 years to basically do a fix-it fic

[shellshocklove]

moanin' & groanin' | logan howlett

pairing/AU: lumberjack!logan howlett/wolverine x inexperienced!female!reader

summery: working for your father's timber business isn't what you saw yourself doing, but when the wolverine comes looking for work it's suddenly not so bad – especially when he can teach you a thing or two.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! age gap (in the way that his mutant abilities prolongs his life), swearing, use of pet names, smut, car sex, praise, a little dacryphilia, logan's got a dirty mouth, soft dom!logan, a little size kink (basically logan has a big dick), handjob, fingering, a little manhandling, unprotected sex (don't do it!!), no use of y/n

a/n: um hi! this is my first ever logan fic. i really hope i got him right! not beta read, and barely edited so any mistakes are my own. happy reading! <3

main masterlist / ao3

The pages crinkled under your fingertips as you turned another page. Over the top of your book you could see your father's men milling about, getting the timber ready for another outgoing truck. Day in and day out they worked like flannel-covered ants. 

He wasn't here, your father, leaving you to hold down the fort, or office to be precise, as he  ran errands. "I'll be back before lunch," he'd told you, a hand passing through the sleeve of his tan Carhartt.

The office felt bigger when he wasn't here, like his neuroticism took up twice as much space as he did himself. You looked around the room. It was small, more like a hut than anything else, raised up on cinderblocks. A tiny kitchen lined the front wall, the refrigerator had given out once this month already and something smelled like it had died in there, the white florescent light under the wall cabinets gave you a headache, and the tap drip drip dripped. The table and the mismatched chairs, your father had found at a fleamarked years ago, before you were born most likely, and they wore the wear and tear of years of use. 

Every available surface was covered in papers, and the wooden shelves on the wall dipped in the middle from the weight of the binders. When you were little you'd been afraid the wood would break in two, but they were still standing (hanging?) – maybe they'd stay like that for the rest of eternity for all you knew. Your father's office had only one desk, which made your job as occasional office manager and full-time problem solver, problematic. 

Your father would sit in his chair on one side, while you'd steal one of the mismatched chairs and occupy the other end. If you'd had your way, you wouldn't be working here. The timber business interested you just as much as your father was interested in the disco they played on the radio. "If it ain't the king of rock I don't want to hear it," he usually said and switched the channel. 

But the town was small, and no one was hiring. The summer after you'd finished high school you'd dreamt of moving to the city, but the money had been tight and your father needed you. At least the work, if your father didn't meddle, was relatively easy: answer the phone, type out the invoices and salaries, keep an eye on logistics, and make sure whatever breaks gets fixed. 

The radio hummed at a low volume, one of the singles from Tapestry, as you turned another page of your book. Leaning back in your father's office chair, you glanced at the clock over the door. He should be back by now. Just as the thought crossed your mind, the door swung open.

"Did you need something?" you asked, your book dipping down in your lap. 

Logan raised an eyebrow at you as he walked into the office on heavy steps, that damn cigar hanging out the side of his mouth. "Nice to see you too, princess," he poked jokingly, tugging at his gloves, one finger at a time, and tucking them into his leather belt. 

He sported the same outfit he usually wore; bootcut jeans, a white t-shirt under his flannel and a thicker wool-lined jacket. He must've been sweating in here with that on.

Autumn had claimed the trees and ground months ago, but this morning the frost had covered the ground and bit at the apples of your cheeks. Your breath had come out in swirling plumes when you'd locked yourself in this morning; the first glints of the sun peeking through the windows as it rose over the mountains. The first thing you'd done was crank the heater, and now as you approached midday, you'd shed your sweater long ago while the windows had fogged with condensation. 

The smallest of frowns tugged at your brows, as a heat prickled up your neck to your cheeks. Logan made you a little nervous– not in a bad way, but in a way where your thoughts would wander in his presence, conjuring up scenarios of him and yourself in… comprising positions. Okay, maybe it was in a bad way. But who could blame you when he walked around like that?

He'd arrived only a few months ago, at the tail end of the summer, looking for work. He was strong, stronger than any of the other men working for your father, and although the work was hard, it seemed like he never tired. You didn't know much about him and he kept mostly to himself, hidden away in a cabin up in the mountain, but sometimes you'd see him down at the local bar, nursing a glass of whiskey in one hand and a lit cigar in the other. More than once you'd seen him chatting up Kayla Silverfox, and more than once you'd wished it was you in her place.

"Oof," Logan groaned as he opened the fridge, grabbing his packed lunch and closing it as fast as he could. You appreciated him for that; whatever had died in there should stay in there.

"Yeah," you said, "I'm not cleaning that again, not even for a million bucks."

"Can't blame ya." 

He looked to the table for a second where the guys usually ate their lunches, before he decided to take your usual chair at your father's desk. As he sat down, you pushed the ash tray to his side of the desk, earning you a short smile in thanks as he rested his cigar. It wasn't unusual for him to talk to you on his breaks. 

So, why did you heart beat so fast in your chest?

Because it was the first time you'd been alone.

"So, where's your old man?" he asked and bit into the sandwich he'd packed in an old newspaper.

"Running errands– he should be back soon…" you trailed off.

Logan hummed non-committedly. "So, you're in here sittin' pretty readin' your book while we're out in the cold slavin' away– maybe I should become the boss' daughter."

"Well, it's not easy," you sighed, feigning confidence, "and you gotta be pretty first of all," you front teeth dug into your bottom lip as you tried to hide your nervousness.

"That's true," he grinned, "I ain't got nothin' on you, princess."

Logan held your gaze with intent, and it was like something in the air shifted. It happened sometimes with Logan, like he had this power beaming from him that sucked you in. Erratic wings fluttered in your stomach, and you had to drop your gaze.

"So, how's the book?" he asked, taking another bite of his sandwich.

"Eh," you shrugged, dog-earing the page your were on, before throwing the beat-up paperback on the table. "Too many plot twists– first they're on earth, then there's this virus spreading– so they have to move all of humanity to the moon, but then there's this species that lives under the surface of the moon who they start a war with, but one of the main characters are in love with a moonie– that's what they call them– so, now they're in love and trying to stop the war and…" you shrugged again.

Logan chewed slowly as he nodded his head. "Sounds complicated," he decided, making you let out a small laugh.

"I guess so."

A grin washed over Logan's face at your small laugh, and you felt his gaze roll over you, over your exposed skin. When he looked at you like that, like a predator drooling for a meal, you felt a small damp spot stick to your panties. You watched as his nostrils widened, his jaw clenching shut as a pulsing vein protruded from his neck.

"So, science fiction," he started, clearing his throat, "Didn't know you liked that," he continued between the last bites of his sandwich

"Some kid at the library recommended it," you shrugged, "so I thought I'd try it out. And it's not like it's that far from the truth– we've got mutants."

Logan crumbled the newspaper hard and quick, the sharp sound making you jump. "Yeah," he said, and stood to his feet, "That's true."

He grabbed his burnt out cigar, and threw the ball of newspaper in the trash. You started to wonder if you'd said something wrong, but then he said, "Your father's back," and not even a second later you could see your dad's old truck pull up outside the window.

How did he even know that? 

"Logan– wait," the words just fell out of your mouth before you could even think them through. He hovered by the door, raising a questioning eyebrow at you. 

You could be brave– Just say it! 

"Come by later would you? Before you leave for the day– I have something for you."

A gush of cold air blew in with the arrival of your father. He almost crashed right into Logan on his way out, nearly knocking him down the wooden steps. You thought you could glimpse a small nod from Logan, but he was out the door so fast you couldn't be sure. 

The rest of the day went by slowly as a growing anxiety gnawed at your neck. With your dad back you slipped out to borrow the car, driving into town to pick up some lunch at the local diner. It was routine at this point, something you did without thinking, but today your thoughts couldn't stay still. You were pulling up outside the office when you realized you'd driven the whole way with the radio off.

What was even your plan? 

You wished you were better at this. You could pretend, sure, put on a brave face to hide the nerves from surfacing, but how do you get a man like that to go for a girl like you?

You felt non the wiser when the sun had dipped below the mountains and he finally knocked on the office door. Your dad had left thirty-minutes earlier, stranding you at work with no way to get home. 

If this didn't go well, you didn't look forward to walking home.

"What 's it you wanted, princess," Logan asked, leaning against the frame of the door with one knee popped. Your eyes couldn't help but run down the length of him – his broad shoulders, the bulge hidden below his big belt buckle, and the veins of his exposed arms as he slung his jacket over his shoulder.

"Oh, um," you tried to shake your thoughts, and you rummaged the desk for the envelope. "Here," you said as you found it, stretching your hand out for him to take it.

He pushed off the door frame with a raised eyebrow, the cold air from the open door taking with it the warmth of the office. "What's this?" he questioned, taking the envelope from your hand. 

"It's your check– for this month's work," you explained.

His raised eyebrow pulled into a frown, "This is a week early," he questioned, "and I usually get these sent in the mail."

"Oh, I-I just thought I'd give it to you personally this time," you lied, fitting a shrug at the end for good measure, trying to sell how completely normal and nonchalant you were.

Logan raised a skeptic eyebrow at you, and you suddenly felt really really stupid. In your chest your heart could compete with a hummingbird's.

"Really?" he said with a smile before he dropped his chin, "Can I appreciate a little extra something in here, or…?" he trailed off, waving the envelope.

Letting out a shaky inaudible breath, you tried in your flirtiest voice, "Maybe if you give me a ride home…"

...................

The lights from the town below looked like stars scattered over the night sky, the yellow light of the roads connected them like on a string. You knew that Logan knew where you lived; the town was small, and even with the short time he'd spent here, it wasn't hard to get familiar. He'd stopped at the lookout point, about half-way up the mountain road. It was nice in the daytime, with a nice view of the town, the mountain and rivers, but at night it attracted a different kind of crowd: lovers. It was cheesy, and cliché, but clichés were clichés for a reason. 

The Led Zeppelin tape whirled, and the music stopped. 

Suddenly you felt nervous, fingers picking at a loose tread on your sweater. Logan leaned forward to flip the cassette, and his truck filled with a sound of organ, like you were back in church. When he leaned back he slung his arm over your seat. You watched how he spread his legs, getting comfortable, as his eyes found your face.

Under the wool, your heart picked up its beat.

In a brave move you shifted closer, the leather seat moaning under you, as a pleased smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His big palm snaked around your shoulder, curling you closer to him until his lips caught your own. You only hesitated for a second before your hand found his neck, where your fingers tugged lightly at the hair at the nape of his neck. 

A low growl huffed against your lips, and he deepened the kiss, pressing himself roughly against you as he licked into your mouth. You couldn't help the small whimper escaping you. His touch was rough, almost impatient, but tender all at the same time, and you felt yourself fall apart.

The air stuck to your skin, clammy and sticky with arousal and now you started to get impatient. With a loud smack you broke apart, your lips raw and spent from use as you caught your breath. A rough hand cupped your cheek, the pad of his thumb skated gently over your skin as he tilted your head towards him.

"Such a pretty little thing," he mused. His eyes had gone dark, pupils huge and filled with lust; yours must've looked about the same as they rolled down his body. He shifted closer to you, pushing you closer to the door, and you got a better view of the bulge hidden behind his jeans.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, clogging up the sounds around you like you were underwater, pushing at your thoughts at the back of your mind. Logan moved with such ease, each touch natural and easy, like he'd done them a thousand times. Not like you, with only your short-lived high school boyfriend under your belt. 

"Hey," he shook your head gently, "Where you goin', bub?"

"I'm sorry," you whispered, a heat coating the apples of your cheeks. 

He shook his head, his face surprisingly tender for someone so rough, "Tell me, baby."

"I'm just…" you trailed of, trying to find your words, "I'm a little nervous– I haven't done this much," you said, avoiding his gaze.

"That's sweet, bub." The pad of his thumb rubbed the pet name into your skin as he leaned forward to catch your lips in a soft kiss, "But I wouldn't worry that pretty little head of yours 'bout it."

His breath was hot against your own, and an ache started to spread between your legs. The hand on your cheek travelled downwards to tug at your jacket, and you parted only for a second to rid yourself of it, but before you could lock your lips with his again he grabbed at your hands.

"I'll teach ya," he told you and guided your hands to his broad form. 

He let you touch him as he shucked off his jacket, your fingers dancing over the soft flannel. He was solid beneath your fingers, hard muscles from hard work. A patch of dark hair curled at his chest, peeking out beneath his white shirt, and you found yourself wondering where it lead.

Curling his hand around your wrist, he guided your hand lower; down over his chest where you could feel the solid form of him. His bronze belt buckle burned you like ice, but the heat of him as he pressed your hand to the hard bulge beneath the buckle burned even brighter.

"You feel that?" He looked you straight in the eyes. He pressed your hand down harder and you could feel the shape of him against your hand, hard and thick, and big. You barely managed a nod through the wave of heat coating your cheeks. 

"That's because of you, princess." His voice was low, almost like a growl, as he started to guide your hand to rub over the thick length.

"Me?" you questioned, breathless. 

"Yes, you," he chuckled, a heavy hand petting at your head. "D'you want to take it out? Stroke it f'me?"

"Please," you begged, looking at him with moony eyes through your lashes.

"So polite f'me," he mused, his hands tugging at his belt before he popped the button on his jeans. Slipping off your shoes, you crawled up into the seat, sitting back on your knees as you watched him pull at his jeans. Peeking out from under the denim, you could see a dark patch of hair.

Logan was in no rush, revealing only an inch at a time of the base of his cock, making a show of it as the tension rose. A wave of tickling arousal washed over you, and it made you brave, reaching a trembling hand forward, you helped him tug at the fabric.

At last his cock sprung free.

You felt your eyes widen at the sight, as you involuntarily squeezed your thighs together. Even with your limited experience, you knew he was bigger than most. The thick length of his cock bobbed from the weight, hanging heavy between his legs. At the tip of his fat head, a drop of precum pearled, almost invisible in the dark truck. 

"Come here, bub." He widened his legs as he reached out a strong arm for you, curling you into his shoulder. 

"Put your hand on it," he ordered, "like this," he grabbed at your wrist and guided you hand towards his mouth. You let him move you around, eyes blown out and wide as you couldn't take your eyes off his impressive cock. 

A wet blob of spit pulled you from your thoughts, it drew the slightest frown over your face until he guided your palm, now coated in his spit, to his cock.

Under your palm his skin was silky soft, but hard and firm at the same time. You found yourself mesmerized at the sight of your hand around him as you familiarized yourself with the heaviness of him in your hand. 

"There ya go–" he cut himself off with a groan as you formed a fist around the head of him. Your fingers struggled to reach around him, but it didn't seem like Logan minded much when you moved downwards smearing his spit over his shaft in an experimental tug. 

"That's it, good girl, just like that."

A warmth bloomed in your chest at the praise, wrapping itself around your heart. You wanted him to say it again– to be good for him. So, you reached forward with your other hand, wrapping it around the base as the other formed a fist around the head. Another pearl of precum beaded at the tip, and you took the opportunity to skate your thumb over it, massaging it into his spit.

A growl seemed to get caught in Logan's throat, and still riding off your high that the praise had sown in you, you started to pump his cock in slow strokes. A slick sound escaped under your fists with each stroke, and you watched how his head fell back in pleasure.

"Am-am I doing it right?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

At the sound of your voice, Logan sat up straighter, a heavy hand falling over your back to pull you closer. "You're a natural, princess."  

You couldn't contain the smile from coating your lips as he brought you in for another searing kiss. It was hot, and suffocating, and all-consuming, all at the same time. It clouded your mind, and you forgot what your hands were supposed to be doing. 

Logan's hand travelled down your body, his big palm grabbing at your ass. "Take of your pants," he ordered against your lips, "Panties too," underlining his order with a couple of light slaps to the flesh.

Shuffling out of his hold, you fingered at the button of your pants, pulling at them and your panties as quickly as you could. Goosebumps prickled over your exposed skin, the air suddenly frosty without Logan's touch – but that didn't last long.

The calloused pads of his fingers trailed up your thighs, pressing down into the flesh as he pulled you closer to him. "Come sit in my lap, princess."

He didn't wait for you to move, instead he manhandled you how he wanted. Spreading his legs wide apart he fit you between his legs, your back pressed against his hot chest with his hard and leaking cock caged against your ass. 

"I'm gonna touch you now, baby, okay?" his deep voice whispered in your ear.

"Okay," you peeped, heart pounding in your ears at this new proximity. 

He spread your legs, putting your wet and neglected cunt on display, hooking them over his knees. When his palms danced over your inner thighs, you felt yourself sink deeper into his chest, deeper into the safe scent of pine and man. 

"Need to get you ready f'me, bub– stretch this tight cunt out for my big cock," he cooed.

You ached for him, a sticky wet feeling between your legs as you wished so badly for him to finally touch you. His touch was light, but teasing, drawing circles along the thin flesh, circling closer and closer to where you needed his touch the most, before he pulled away. 

"Please," you whined, grabbing at his arm.

His breath felt hot against your neck, and you could feel the grin he pressed against your skin. He let you guide him upwards to hover his large palm over your mound, but he wouldn't let you have it. Instead, he pushed at your sweater. His hand spread across the skin beneath your belly button as prickled goosebumps followed the rough pads as they ran across your skin.

"Y'gonna feel me right here, bub?" he teased, "So deep inside your tummy?"

A whine caught in your throat and you felt like an exposed nerve. Arousal pulsated throughout your body, threatening to pull you apart unless he did something soon. Your neglected cunt dripped with an ache only he could sooth. 

"Yes, please, Logan," you whined, tears threatening to spill.

His thick beard scraped against your cheek, and you almost trembled from anticipation as he slid his hands downwards. He raked his fingers through the curls of your mound, and a gasp fell from your lips when he finally pushed at your clit.

A wide smile reached across your face when he started to circle his fingers, tight with the perfect amount of pressure. Your hips bucked to meet his touch, your cunt eager and dripping for more of him. His other arm clasped around your middle, keeping your still and steady in his lap as he had his way with you.

A bold finger dipped lower, running through your folds and teasing at you entrance. A slick sound filled the car as he played with your cunt, circling his fingers around your hole, dipping a teasing finger inside you just to the first knuckle, before withdrawing it just as quickly. 

"Such a messy pussy," Logan murmured in your ear, the deep bass of his voice vibrating into your skin. "Listen."

The sound as he played with your pussy was obscene, lewd, and so dirty you felt a heat crawl up your chest. A breathy gasp escaped you when he finally split you on his finger, and a satisfied smile coated your lips as he started to move it inside in a steady rhythm, prodding every so often at that spongy spot inside, the spot your own finger couldn't reach.

"F-feels s-so good," you managed to stutter out. 

The heel of his palm pressed against your clit with every thrust, teasing at your insides and conjuring moan after breathy moan from your lips. He guided you closer and closer to the edge, and you wanted so badly to fall. When he pulled out to slide another finger inside you, you felt a tear roll down your cheek with satisfaction.

"I can feel that pussy clenching me– you close, bub?" he poked, never stopping his fingers.

Your head rolled back, resting heavy on his shoulder as you nodded franticly, mouth parted slightly, humming out small breathy whines. You were so close, the tension in your stomach twisting and aching for release.

But then he pulled his fingers, dragging them up over your mound leaving a wet trail in your curls. You couldn't help the disappointed sigh as more tears pressed their way down your cheeks.

"Shh," he hushed you, "you're okay, bub." 

Under you, you felt him move, his strong muscles flexing as he shifted you on his lap. When you felt the blunt head of his cock slide between your folds, an eagerness came upon you. You grinded against him, making a small chuckle rumble from his chest. Logan slapped his heavy cock against your folds, coating his big cock in your slick arousal. 

The first stretch of him knocked the breath right out of you, the fat tip of him splitting you in half as he helped you guide yourself down on him. You had to remember to breathe, your hand fumbling for something to hold on to. 

"Fuck," you whimpered, eyes wide, "I-it's so big– it's t-too big."

His hand wrapped around your middle held you in place, keeping you still on his cock as you adjusted to the first inches of him inside you. 

"It's not too big, princess, you're doing so well f'me," he praised, "just a little more, bub– you can do it."

With a wet whimper you lowered yourself, taking a couple more inches of him, as Logan pressed more fluttering praise into your skin. He let you take your time, easing yourself down on him at your own pace. When your thighs were finally flushed with his, he was so deep inside you, you jolted, trying to move back up, but Logan's hands held you down. You felt him in your tummy, like he'd said, his cock reaching so deep you were shaking.

"Sit still, get used to it," he told you, as you tried to catch your breath, "You're being so good f'me."

And somehow the burning stretch of him soothed away into a pleasurable pressure, one you couldn't help but chase. With an experimental rock of your hips, you felt the fat head of him prod at your spot, making you mewl. And when you started to swivel your hips, Logan groaned in satisfaction, meeting your movement with small thrusts.

Slowly, he picked up his rhythm, strong hands shifted to dig into your hips, holding you in place for him to move you as he wished. In your ear, you heard him growl, deep and animalistic as he fucked up into you.

It didn't take long until your breath came out fast between moans as the pressure built, and built, and built. 

"Logan," you moaned, tethering right on the edge.

Another growl escaped his chest, as his strong arms hooked under your legs. He pressed them tightly to your body as he picked up his pace, bucking wildly into your eager cunt. You could feel him throb inside of you, and you couldn't help but clench at the thought of feeling him spill inside you, claiming you.

"Don't stop, please, don't stop," you begged, tears streaming down your face like two winding rivers, "I-I'm gonna come."

A hand slid between your legs to rub at your puffy clit, coaxing you closer and closer with winding circles. 

"Come on my cock, baby, come all over that big cock."

It was hot, and blinding. Euphoric shocks pulsed through your body, as you fluttered and gushed around his cock. Logan's grip on your legs tightened as you shook violently with your orgasm – a million stars exploded behind your eyes.

"Oh, that's it, bub, such a good girl," he praised between heavy wet pants against your ear.    

Fucking you through your ecstasy, Logan chased his own high at a relentless pace, and all you could do was take it, reduced to a ragdoll in his hands. In your ear he muttered nonsense interlaced with praise, telling you how good you felt, and how perfect you were for him.

With a deep groan he pulled out quickly, tugging at himself until he spilled his thick spend on the truck floor. With bleary eyes you watched how it pumped in quick spurts, dripping down his hand and soiled the knuckles in his own sticky cum. 

Behind you, Logan breathed hard, nudging his nose against the column of your neck to press soft kisses to the hot skin. 

A pair of bright headlights beamed down the road, pulling you from the moment with its blinding light. Logan helped you shift off his lap, reaching to hand you your discarded clothes before he tucked himself back into his jeans. 

The cassette whirled in the car radio, and you couldn't remember when the music had stopped. Logan shifted back behind the wheel and an eerie silence grew in the distance between you.

"How 'bout I take you somewhere to eat?" he posed.

You smiled, "I could eat."

...................

hopefully this was okay? a comment telling me your favorite part is always welcome, and my ask box is always open to chat <3 and thank you for reading!!

© shellshocklove, 2024 i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit!

[amourcheol]

paris (teaser)

❝You and Jeonghan, jazz-filled corners, hidden history, and the city of love.❞

historical! au | exes to lovers! au | angst, fluff, smut | approx. 45k words (teaser wc. 1.4k words)

s u m m a r y : disgraced by hollywood for the last time, you, a once superstar-turned-alcoholic, escape to the city of love to seek sanctuary from the ruthless tabloids. your sanctuary comes in the form of film noir superstar yoon jeonghan, the enigmatic man who taught you the art of acting, lust and love before your fame. when he asks to meet you once, just like old times, you cannot refuse. what is meant to be a simple date turns into a path of passion, pain and everything that comes with fooling around with your ex in the jazz-filled corners of paris.

c o n t e n t s : actor! mc, actor! jeonghan, mc is incredibly bitter and makes bad decisions, agent! seungkwan who is tired of fixing them, jeonghan is the suavest, sultriest mf, mentions of parisian landmarks in this fic, also a bit of french peppered throughout, greek mythology art references, tons of fluff which is also layered with angst, this will be very hurt-comfort, hella ansgty but will have a happy ending mature warnings -> alcohol consumption and abuse, smoking, this is basically sexual tension with plot, slightly drunk making out, oral sex (f. receiving) unprotected sex (refer point to bad decisions), very soft angsty sex, body worshipping, petnames (chérie, mon ange, darling, angel), overall emotional rollercoaster, more tba!

p l a y l i s t : here!

t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld​ @sysymei @alaypsy23 @belladaises @jjeongddol @sparklyshuji @forcoups @ilovesungjun @wonwoo24 @scandal-in-bohemia @hopefulchick @superbbananananana @onedumbho3 @fragmentof-indifference @cuntycheol @rubywonu @if-i-like-i-reblog @yoonzinoooo @jungwoos-luvr @crookedwolfruins @leclercloverbot​ @alexai (let me know if y’all want to be tagged!)

a u t h o r ’ s  n o t e : after three years ... four rewritings later... she may finally see the light ... i am releasing the teaser now but will post the fic when i’m back from holiday! i hope you all enjoy the lil extract <3

read this fic here!

SHIT. YOU COULD NOT DO THIS TODAY.

Suddenly, you wished he was a mere figment of your imagination, because then he would not have to see you in your drunken, disordered state, looking for art that was not there, looking for the past in the present.

But then he began to move.

This very real presence walked closer to you, and you felt your entire body constricting, because Yoon Jeonghan was in front of you, the greatest star in the world was approaching you, the man of your distant memories was coming too close.

“Wait,” he then said, and your throat was closing up, you were blinking rapidly, chest growing heavy, and you needed him to get away. He came closer, and you knew then and there you were going to die on the cold floor of the Louvre, marble eyes on you—

And then your own gaze was glistening, and when he noticed it became harder to contain yourself. “_____, are you all right?”

“Yes!” you got out, but then you proved yourself wrong when a few tears slipped out, staining your cheeks.

The man wasted no time, closing the last space between the two of you as he reached out. Instantly, you repelled from his touch, almost flinching from his surprise. “No!” you rasped out, bringing out your own hands to create distance, taking a step back. “No, you don’t need to do that…I’m fine.” 

You breathed sharply through your nose. “I am fine.”

Hastily you turned to the empty space where he last was, before you followed him like a madwoman around the hall. He watched you, your back almost to him. “What…what are you…” you paused, trying to normalise your shaking voice. “What are you doing here?”

You could feel his inquisitive stare upon you. “I could ask you the same thing.”

That question was not being answered. “I asked you first.”

Because you could not see him, you were not aware of his reaction. Still, it was enough for him to answer, “Well, in the Louvre, or in Paris?”

You gritted your teeth at that. “I think everyone knows why you’re in Paris at the moment.”

“Do they, now?”

You could not help it.

Casting a momentary glance at him, you were taken aback to find his gaze upon you. “Are you aware, at least?” he asked you.

Despite his simple questions, your impending headache, you had to clamp down on your remarks. “Of course I’m aware,” you muttered. “The papers are all over the press tours you’ve been doing.”

A perfectly groomed brow arched at your comment. “I’m surprised you follow the papers at the moment.” 

You knew exactly what he meant. “One must keep check of the stories they gossip about,” you only said, focusing back on the empty space. “Those journalists cannot be trusted.”

“Hmm…” you heard shuffling amongst his clothes—no doubt crossing his arms. “I have read the stories.”

A scoff. “I suppose you believe them, don’t you?”

He noted the cruelty in your response. The actor did not take it to heart.

“I have always believed in the stories you told me, chérie.”

This time, curiosity controlled your movement.

Curiosity had you turning back, forcing you to observe his expression, catch his lie. 

But you found no deception.

No, there was only sincerity—pure as the moonlight shining on the two of you.

Chérie.

The last time someone had called you such a sweet name was too long ago.

How ironic, that it was the same man beside you who had bestowed you this very endearment.

A shuddered breath left you. 

You could not do this now.

You were going to say as much when Jeonghan interrupted you.

“Were you looking for something in here?”

Your furrowed brows had him humming. “I thought as much.” Gently, he jerked his head beyond your figure. “Strangely enough, I was looking for it as well.”

Confused, you glanced back at the empty space, where that certain, mysterious sculpture was supposed to be. “That is why I came to the Louvre,” you heard him say.

There was still suspicion laced in your features. “How do you know that we are thinking of the same piece?”

That ghost of a smile crept up again. “You act as if you don’t remember.”

Your sigh was a little sheepish. “I do,” you said, reminiscing on the memories. “But the name…”

No matter how hard you endeavoured, your memory of the sculpture was too hazy for your half-drunk mind. 

You searched him for an answer. “I’m sure you have not forgotten.”

“No…I have not.”

You waited. His silence had you insisting, “Well?”

When you saw a slight glimmer in his whimsical gaze, you knew that he had something else in mind. The implications had you biting your lower lip, anxiety blooming.

The nerves grew when Jeonghan spoke.

“I will tell you if you see me tomorrow.”

You blinked back.

“There’s an exhibition opening here tomorrow afternoon,” he continued, taking a step towards you, careful not to startle you again. “It’s centred on the sculpture we both wanted to see, but it’s been moved to another hall.”

He confused you a great amount. “How do you know that?”

His stare went beyond you, to the wall. “It says on the plaque.”

Sure enough—when you looked back, there was the notice. Because your French was adequate at best, you did not understand it fully. You simply had to trust his linguistic abilities.

That you could do—you were aware of Jeonghan’s fluency in the language of love. 

He cocked his head, a few strays cascading the side of his face. “You and I could see it there.”

The offer had shaken you. “Why?”

“Why?”

You knitted your brows suspiciously. “Why do you want to go with me?”

The film noir star watched you then, you shuffling uncomfortably under his scrutiny. God, you forgot how intense his eyes were—in fairness, you had not been the subject of his stares for a few years. 

He locked his gloved hands behind his back. “Because you need a break, _____. From everything.”

He offered you a smile. “Let me be the one to give you that. If only for the day.”

You could have crumbled before him.

It was at this stage you cursed yourself for being in such a state. Perhaps if you were sober, you would have carried on this conversation in a more respectable manner, taken more caution.

It was incredibly difficult, composing yourself around the man.

“I can’t…” you inhaled sharply, trying to form the words. “I cannot do midday…too many people, you know…staring, judging…”

“Ah.” He nodded, parting his mouth in thought. “Then tomorrow night?”

Stretching your mouth, unsure, he assured, “They will not follow you here at this hour.”

“How are you so sure of that?”

This time, he sighed, surprised at your anxiousness. “I see you’ve not changed, then.”

You narrowed your gaze. “What is that supposed to mean?”

But the actor did not seem like he was going to elaborate. 

He instead took another step towards you, a mere two feet left. 

“Do you trust me?”

You tilted your head back. 

What kind of question was that?

Do you trust me?

You did not trust anyone. Not after this whole debacle back home, when almost all your friends within the industry had contributed to your downfall. Hollywood was filled with traitors, the worst being the people who haunted the journey of your disgrace at every moment.

It was impossible to place any ounce of faith in another.

As you watched his eyes settle on you, you noticed an emotion you had not witnessed in forever.

Tenderness.

Tenderness with no ulterior motive—gentle acceptance, as if he recognised your position. As if he recognised your change, the apprehensive nature of your questions, your pauses. It physically hurt being stained with such compassion, when you had been begging for it from the world all those weeks ago.

It hurt, having someone who understood you.

You, however, should not have been surprised.

Yoon Jeonghan had always been like this. Especially when you both were together.

You could have smiled. 

What a time that was.

As if he could read your mind, the film noir star began, “You remember, don’t you? That I’ve never let you down?”

You decided to let yourself slip—you could always blame it on the alcohol. 

“What time do you want me here tomorrow?”

[chronicdisasterwrites]

alcohol isn’t for the weak gojo satoru

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru, shoko ieiri

genre + warnings: -underage alcohol consumption, a lot of swearing, reader slaps gojo around, pining, overall FLUFF!

word count: 3,380 (i was gonna write more but i’m lazy)

authors note: So this is the sequel of my fic “gotta keep these kids on leashes”. The dynamic quartet is back and up to no good yet again :3 There will for sure be a continuation and it just might end up being a series going through their lives. Also, this takes place before Riko and Toji, so basically their teenage days when everything was good and dandy :’)

enjoy this chaos <3

“You absolute, fucking lightweight.”

With tired bones, eyes, soul and mind, Geto’s glare remains steadily fixed on the drunken mess sprawled on the ground before him. Gojo Satoru was a complex human being. The strongest jujutsu sorcerer in the world; the first person in 400 years to possess both Limitless and the Six Eyes, his strength knew no bounds - except when it came to alcohol.

“Suuuguruuu~” Gojo slurred along with several incoherent words mushed in between giggles.

Stuck between a rock and a hard place, Geto leaned his head against his ajar door and shut his eyes, thinking of all the incredibly painful ways by which he could murder and then dispose of his best friend’s wasted body. His anger wasn’t uncalled for, of course. It was a long day for Geto and all he wanted to do after spending an entire day killing one particularly difficult curse followed by a couple extra (albeit easier to defeat) surprise curses was take a nice long shower, go into his dorm and sleep like a corpse. He had a feeling it was too good to be true when he didn’t get 30 calls from Gojo by the time the sun had set and he had stepped into campus. He was even more surprised when he got out of the shower and came back to 0 notifications from the “pain in everyone’s ass” sorcerer. Gojo always knew when Geto had missions, and more so he would always know when Geto would be gone for the entire day. On days such as this one, he would usually go and bother literally anyone else he could find around him; when desperate, Yaga, but that would never end well for him, so that would only be reserved for very special occasions.

“Satoru, just why…” Geto sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and wondering what he did to deserve this torture.

“I had soooo much fun t’dayyy,” Gojo slurs and laughs much too loudly considering the time.

“Les go out, the night is youuung like you and me and Mochi and Shoko- but…” He pauses, sits up then looks directly at Geto, suddenly serious. Geto squints, expecting something stupid as per usual.

“...Not like…” Cracks appear on his half-assed poker face and the corners of his eyes crinkle slightly as his lips twitch. “Not like…Yaga AHHAAHA-”

Laughter explodes from his chest as he falls back on the ground, rolling around clutching his stomach as if he just cracked the world’s funniest joke. Geto on the other hand, was not phased. In fact, he was preparing to be violent. Inhaling and then exhaling deeply, Geto stood straighter, thinking of ways he could make this night go his way. A few weeks prior to this moment in the present, Gojo along with his posse played an almost funny practical joke on Geto, which ended up costing him a date with a girl and 10 of his brain cells. Since then, Geto had been pondering day and night on exactly what he could do to get Gojo back. There were a few weaknesses the strongest sorcerer had which Geto knew of. One being, his obvious lack of alcohol tolerance, and two being his stupidly obvious crush on you. (not Shoko, although he definitely finds her hot).

Geto knows all about Gojo’s embarrassing feelings for you but he still has no solid evidence on whether the feelings are reciprocated or not.

Suddenly, his train of thought comes to a stop as his eyes glint with mischief. He grabs Gojo’s arm and starts to drag him along the hallway. Gojo doesn't even bother standing up to walk. Instead he lets his best friend drag him like a sack of potatoes, with no care in the world as to where he might be taking him.

“What the heck?! Suguru?! Where are we goin-”

They stop and Geto aggressively knocks on a door. Freshly painted, different from the rest. Immediately, he drops Gojo’s arm and sprints back to his dorm before Gojo’s little brain could even begin to process what had happened.

“Satoru…what the fuck?”

You rub your eyes and glare at the drunken mess sprawled before your dorm door and rub your eyes again, hoping he’d disappear the next time you look. He doesn’t. And you actually hear a mechanical click in your brain when the idiot starts grinning as if it wasn’t 3am and he didn’t just ruin your perfect slumber. Yet again.

“Mochi!!! You’re here! I missed yo- HEY! OUCH! WHY- STOP HITTIN ME-”

“I SHOULD KILL YOU-” slap

“IDIOT,” slap

“WHY CAN’T YOU EVER LET ME SLEEP IN PEACE?!” slap

You wanted to throttle him. But you figured 3 slaps were enough for now. You honestly felt kind of bad seeing him curled up in a ball on the floor and you worried whether you went too far or not.

“I’m sorry… I just missed you s’all,” His voice was soft, gentle even, and that made you feel even worse. Your shoulders slump and your head drops as an exasperated sigh escapes your mouth.

Why is he like this?

You crouch next to his curled up form and stare at his disheveled silver hair. He doesn’t look at you, in fact his eyes remain closed. His hands cover his ears and he literally looks like a kicked puppy and you feel so awful. You roll your eyes and sigh.

Ugh, damn him.

“Okay. Satoru, I’m sorry for hitting you.”

He doesn’t move.

You pinch your nose bridge and decide to take the high road. He is drunk after all, you think. Reaching out, you run your fingers through his soft hair. His shoulders relax at that and the corner of his mouth quirks up ever so slightly. You stifle a laugh at his childishness and grab his chin, tilting his head to face you. Finally, he opens his eyes and stares at you as a gradual, natural smile slowly takes over his face. You smile back and at the back of your mind, you think how stupid you two must look right now. In the middle of the night, your dorm door wide open, Satoru sprawled on the floor of the hallway, you crouched near his head while the two of you stared at each other like something straight out of Spiderman. Except, you won’t kiss him. That’s never going to happen.

You let go of his chin and flick his nose. He huffs a short laugh, rubbing the spot and attempting to return the favor. You grab his wrist before he could deliver the blow and say, “You still drunk?”

Satoru hums, eyes shiny, “A little?”

He grabs your face and squeezes your cheeks, snorting as you glare at him.

“Y’know… you don’t look as scary with your face like this,” He emphasizes his point with ‘awww’s’ and ‘you’re so cuteee’s’ and you can’t help but laugh at this blatant humiliation. You move his hand away and stand up, holding out your hand and expecting him to take it.

“Alright, c’mon. Get up.”

Satoru groans much too loudly and proceeds to throw his arms down and stretch his legs like a starfish.

“Noooo, just stay w’ meee,” He whines like a petulant child and you smile.

Damn him.

You consider bringing him into your dorm and spending the entire night with him doing nothing. Maybe talking, laughing. But you quickly discard that horrifying thought. He’s Gojo Satoru. Your best friend. Nothing romantic could ever happen between you two because he is Gojo Satoru and you are nobody. He is the one person who could even come close to changing the world. He holds the balance of the universe in the palm of his hands. He is everything, and you hate that. You hate how much he means to you, and you hate how much he has on his shoulders. You hate the fact that you can��t even help him ease those worries. You might be strong, but you’re not nearly as strong as him. He knows it, everyone knows it. So, you ignore these feelings. You bury any semblance of hope, of potential ‘maybe’s’ and ‘what if’s’ and you keep your guard up. After all, he is your best friend and you’re his. That’s it.

But then, why does he keep looking at me like this?

“Mochi?” He mutters, eyes suddenly clear and gaze fixed at you. You hum. He waits a while without saying anything and then sits up cross-legged and holds his hand out. You ponder for a moment and eventually you hold his hand and he attempts to pull himself up with your help. You steady your feet and help him up and… wow, he’s ridiculously tall.

You clear your throat and let go of his hand, to which he makes a little noise of protest. You roll your eyes and put his arm around your shoulder, ushering him towards his dorm, “Alright Satoru, let’s put you to bed.”

He nods his head one too many times and starts to walk with you, slowly but surely. You held onto him as he held onto you, and you walked at his pace. He smelled nothing like he usually did. The pungent odor of sake wafted off him in waves and it almost made you want to throw up. He was dozing off, eyes almost shutting. Those cerulean blues were almost a shiny navy color now. You wonder what made him want to drink so much tonight. So you asked.

“Satoru?”

“Hm?” He looks down at you and musters a tiny smile. You hold his waist a little tighter.

You rephrase the sentence a few times in your head before asking.

“Why’d you drink so much tonight? Is everything okay?”

He stares at you for a while, then purses his lips and tips his head down, exhaling loudly. You know something happened, but you don’t know what it could be. Satoru was always an enigma. He was always an open book, and yet so mysterious at the same time. He always kept a smile on his face and always did the stupidest shit. Yet sometimes, he would change completely. His eyes would look sad and distant, he wouldn’t talk as much, he’d look out the window like some kind of tortured main character in an indie movie. Satoru was never easy to understand. He has his vices.

Finally, he looks at you with hazy eyes and a soft smile. Using the arm slung over your shoulder, he holds you in a headlock and kisses your forehead. You can’t see your face but you can feel just how red it must have become. You struggle to try to get out of the headlock but to no avail. Even when drunk, Satoru was still stronger than you and you hated that with a passion. He laughs and releases you, returning his arm back over your shoulder as he leans against you, basically using you as a crutch to walk.

“Satoru?! What the fuck was that all about?!” You sputter. Angry? Not really, it was nice. You’re more confused and freaked out, and why do you feel drunk when you’re the one who’s completely sober?

“No reason, you’re just cute s’all,” He giggles and ruffles your hair. You glare at his stupid face and he laughs again.

“Plus, I had nothing to do all day. Suguru was gone, you were busy and Shoko was-” He pauses. “Well, wherever she was.”

You sigh and pick up your pace which makes Satoru look like Bambi trying to walk on ice for the first time. He giggles all the way there.

—

Fucking finally…

You open the door to his dorm while dragging Satoru’s half limp body inside.

“Alrighty, now lie down,” You say as you gracefully lay him down (more like unceremoniously drop him) on his bed and take his shoes off. Satoru groans and proceeds to almost slip off the side of the bed. Thankfully, you noticed and pushed him further away and more towards the center of the bed. You leave his clothes alone and stand up straight, turning to leave.

“No, wait,” His hand grabs your wrist, without any force whatsoever and you think you’re going to straight up melt when you turn back around to see him looking up at you with ridiculously childlike eyes it’s not even fair.

“Stay, please.”

Your breath hitches and you know you have to leave. You have to wake up early in the morning and also you are not going to spend a night with Gojo Satoru while he’s drunk. It's not a matter of safety; you know he would die before ever hurting you. It was more a matter of heart.

“Satoru…” You try to wrench your hand free from his grasp.

He lowers his hand and wraps it around your fingers. His voice is quiet as he says, “A lil’ bit. ‘M sorry…”

You quirk an eyebrow in confusion, “For what?”

Your question is met with only snores. You shove him and call his name to which he opens his eyes with a “huh?”.

“What are you sorry for?”

He looks bewildered, “Oh um…”

You wait.

He continues sleepily, “For ruining your sleep.”

You chuckle as his hand slowly falls to the bed and snores fill the emptiness.

“Idiot.”

You pat his head and leave.

—-

Satoru wakes up very cold. And wet. Not in a good way.

“Woah- what the fu-”

“Rise and shine, princess,” Suguru announces with a shit-eating grin on his pretty face. He keeps the empty glass on Satoru’s side table and crosses his arms.

Satoru rubs his drenched face and stares incredulously at his so-called best friend, confusion etching his hungover face, “What the hell was that for?”

Suguru snickers, “It was for ruining my sleep last night.” He sits on Satoru’s bed and crosses his legs, resting his head on his hand, enjoying Satoru’s discomfort.

Satoru groans and puts his pillow on his face. His muffled voice says something Suguru makes out to be, “My head is killing me.”

“Not surprised, you were completely wasted.”

Satoru moves the pillow and glares at Suguru, to which he only receives a grin.

Suguru asks liltingly, “So? What happened last night?”

Satoru gets up and makes his way to his bathroom, the sound of water and teeth brushing resonating around the room. Suguru waits for a reply that doesn't come.

Impatient, he asks again, “Did you get your ass kicked?” Satoru gets out while putting on a new uniform jacket. He glares at Suguru until realization hits.

His eyes widen and he points a finger and exclaims, “You took me to her room?!”

Suguru processed that light bulb moment with wide eyes and burst into a hearty laughter to which Satoru only gaped mouth open and eyes unbelieving.

“You- you didn't remember how you got there but you remembered being there?” More laughter, louder this time.

Satoru scoffs and picks up his sunglasses, “I can't believe you…”

Suguru’s laughter dies down and he receives a slap on the back of his head for his incompetence. He laughs and rubs the site of injury.

As Satoru makes his way out of the dorm, Suguru follows close behind. He asks with genuine curiosity, “Did you confess?”

Nothing.

“Did she confess?”

Silence, except for the birds chirping cheerfully and the metronomic footfalls of the two boys.

Suguru sighs, “Did anything happen?”

Satoru puts on his sunglasses and shoves his hands in his pockets, “Nothing happened, as far as I remember.”

Suguru raises an eyebrow. Satoru rolls his eyes and says in a low voice, “Anyways, I'd remember if anything happened.”

Suguru smiles and ruffles Satoru’s already disheveled hair. He scoffs but laughs when Suguru laughs at his lovesick state of being.

“Forget it, Suguru. It’s never gonna happen,” Satoru mutters dejectedly, kicking a stone. Suguru stays silent.

“Like, she’s so… just- y’know?” His sparkling sapphire eyes glittering with admiration and so much love, Suguru can’t help but smile at his friend’s hopefulness. He continues rambling incoherently, hands waving around like it actually does anything to explain his feelings for her. In reality, nothing Satoru is saying makes any sense. Or more so, it wouldn’t make sense to anyone else. Suguru, on the other hand, understands Satoru. So no words are required.

—-

“He’s such an idiot.”

You sigh and twirl your pen, “Tell me about it…”

Shoko knows all and sees all. She knows all about Gojo’s stupid crush on you and she knows all about your crush on him. She doesn’t approve of it, because she firmly believes you deserve better and Gojo is an immature idiot. But after countless sleepless nights of talking about life and love, she saw just how much you liked him, despite your lackluster denials to her allegations. You were adamant on hiding your feelings, even with Shoko. You don’t know why exactly you lied to her about this. Probably because it seems too out of reach, or maybe because you know she’d disapprove. But you know Shoko loves you with all her heart. She would support any decision you make, no matter how much she hates it. Your happiness is paramount and she will never make you feel less than or stupid for anything you tell her. You just can’t tell her about your crush yet, because it’s just too embarrassing and you can’t deal with Shoko’s side-eye.

Shoko closes the book she was reading staring at, kicks up her feet on the desk and crosses her arms across her chest. You look at her, then look at her neglected textbook and sigh, shifting your attention to your own textbook.

“Y’know you’ll never even pass at the rate at which you’re going…”

She says with a giggle, “Relax, will you? It’s just class tests.”

You muster your best side eye, to which she just snorts. She kicks back her chair and stands up, holding out her hand for you to take. You raise your eyebrows, silently questioning whether she’s serious or not.

“C’mon let’s take a break, we’ve been studying for hours.”

You put down your pen and cross your arms, properly facing her now, “You mean, I’ve been studying for hours.”

She shrugs, “That’s what I said.”

“Ha-ha,” you deadpan.

She actually laughs and tugs your sleeve, “Come onnnn.”

You sigh and hang your head. Shoko takes that as a sign to collect your items and pack them into your backpack and you know you’ve lost. You always lose to her arguments. She’s too quick and too laid back to ever lose an argument. Even when something really serious goes down, Shoko will be the last person to freak out. You can’t even argue with her because she’ll just come up with some random logic that you don’t even know how to counteract. You watch as she packs your stuff and you smile. She looks at you and smiles back, albeit in a confused manner.

“What?”

You shrug still smiling, “Nothin’.”

Shoko mutters a small “okay” and grabs your shoulders, hunching down to your eye-level and staring into your eyes with a kind of scary expression. Shoko has never been serious in her entire life, except for a few times when you made bad decisions.

“Listen to me, and listen well. I love you. I will always be here for you. Even if you and Gojo date and that doesn’t work out, you don’t have to worry about us, ever,” Shoko’s grip on your shoulders was ironclad.

Your eyes widen and face heats up furiously, “W-what? Where is this coming from?!”

“Because I am your best friend, you absolute braindead idiot! I know you. I don’t know why you’re not just coming clean with me but I’m here always, so come to me whenever,” she ends her monologue with a sweeter than sweet smile and stands up to her full height while you were down there stunned, touched and offended all at once.

You get up, put your bag over your shoulder and stare at Shoko concerningly, while she just grins.

What the actual fuck was that?

“Hey, let’s go get some food, I’m starving.”

You glare at her as she loops her arms through yours, “You’re paying.”

Shoko laughs, “No way. Gojo’s paying.”

taglist: @thepup356, @porridgesblog, @stray-npc, @daisy-the-quake, @reignsaway, @ainetx, @icarusignite, @mariapierce789

[writinghotchner]

I know this is a weird request so please don't feel like you have to fill it lol. Hotch x Reader fic where Reader has a type of disability? Whether its like crippling depression/anxiety or something else, your choise! Something cute and fluffy preferably but that's also up to you!

no such thing as a "weird request" to me, i'm insane <3 and thank you for requesting!!

fandom: criminal minds pairing: hotch x fem!reader rating: E tags: depression, mentions of anxiety

you're on the couch wrapped in the thickest blanket you could find when you hear the front door open and close.

usually, you'd greet your boyfriend at the door, kiss him, ask him about his day, discuss dinner plans and all the usual adult things an adult couple does.

but today you can't make yourself move. that usual spark of joy that lightening strikes its way through your spine when you know he's home isn't there. the excitement to run to the front door to kiss him stupid like you would normally do isn't there. what's there, though, is the soul numbing feeling of absolutely nothingness. you don't feel sad, you don't feel happy, you quite literally feel numb- nothing. so you don't move.

if aaron notices, he doesn't say anything. instead, he makes his way over to you and leans over the back of the couch to kiss your blanket covered head. he doesn't say anything, and you surely don't say anything. you hear him shuffle by, assuming he's going to the bedroom to change out of his suit like he normally does.

a few minutes later, he reappears in black sweatpants and a basic plain white t-shirt. he sits at the end of the couch and lifts you feet onto his lap and gives them a little squeeze.

you've been together long enough for him to know that this is just something that happens. nothing necessarily triggers it, and he knows he didn't do anything wrong so he's not quick to jump on you and ask questions and plead to know how to "fix it". you're beyond thankful for that. you discussed how bad your depression can get when you first got together a few years ago and he completely understood. of course he did, after finding out everything this man had been through, of course he knows a thing or two about being depressed.

"have you eaten today?" you hear him ask, the blanket covering your entire head making it sound like he's underwater.

you want to answer him. you want him to know you aren't ignoring him and that it's not his fault, even if he knows and understands, the anxiety of it all makes it all crush your insides a little bit more.

one day he's going to get sick of this and leave.

after a beat, you unwrap the top half of yourself from your cocoon and stare up at the ceiling and then eventually look over at him. he flicks you a comforting smile as he presses his thumbs into the arches of your socked feet.

you shake your head 'no' at him and he nods his head. "are you hungry?"

you shrug, barely, but he sees it.

"okay," he says softly leaning up, resting his elbows on his thighs. "if i make us something, will you try to eat?"

you stare at him. he waits a second before adding, "you don't have to eat if you don't want to, but i'm going to make you a plate anyway, okay?"

you blink at him, and nod slightly. he gives your foot one last squeeze and gets up to head to the kitchen.

you turn your eyes back to the tv that's been playing in the living room this entire time. you aren't watching it, you truly have no idea what's even on, your eyes not focusing enough to process or care what it is. you barely even register that there's sound coming from it.

you're not sure how long it's been, but hotch comes back with two plates in his hands and sets them down on the coffee table. he sits down on the floor and scoots your plate over towards you. there's not much food on it. a couple pieces of steamed broccoli, a scoop of mashed potatoes and a pathetic excuse of a piece of meat. you stare at it, willing your brain to just let you move and want to eat it.

"it's not much, but it was the quickest thing i could throw together in the air fryer," he tells you. "well, the broccoli was steamed in the microwave...i cheated a little." he shoots you a cheesy grin that you barely catch out of the corner of your eye. "and the mashed potatoes are instant. don't tell anyone though."

it's funny how moments like this make you fall more in love with him. he knows you're hurting, would stop the world and do whatever it took to get the pain to stop, but he acts normal around you, keeping light conversation with you and not trying to get you to "cheer up" like most people would try to do.

you're still staring at the plate, an internal screaming match taking place inside the entirety of your brain when you realize he's still talking. you have no idea what he just said, but he's still got that goofy grin on his face as he shoves a piece of broccoli in his mouth.

something inside of you loosens, the vice grip lets go of your soul for a moment and you huff a small laugh at him.

"are you laughing at me or the fact that jj accidentally broke reid's nose?"

okay, wait a second. what?

"what?" you ask, your voice a little hoarse but full of complete amusement.

he laughs, a full toothy laugh that always makes your heart swell. "yeah," he finishes chewing and swallowing his food and turns to look more at you. "reid was trying to show her some new magic trick he'd just learned and, i'm not entirely sure how it happened, but it startled jj enough to where she accidentally elbowed his face. right in the nose."

you blink incredulously at him before you shift yourself up on your elbow. "is he okay?"

hotch nods. "yeah, he's fine. after the initial shock of it, they all started laughing."

the conversation tapers off and your eyes go back to the plate thats slowly getting cold. hotch is nearly done with his. he pats the floor next to him, "join me?"

and so you do. you really have to make your limbs work and it's such an energy draining task that just makes you angry because why in the world do you have to keep fighting with yourself to literally just...live. but, you shake that thought out of your head and melt yourself off the couch and land on the floor next to him; it makes him laugh again and that seems to help dissipate even more of the darkness leaching to your spine.

"want me to feed you?" you know he's joking, he wiggles his eyebrows at you as he says it, making airplane noises with his own fork as he wiggles it around the air to your mouth.

you actually laugh at that and the smile he gives you is so beautiful you nearly, actually cry.

"i love you." is all you say. you rest your head against his shoulder and slide your plate over in front of you and take a bite of the mashed potatoes. the first bite always kick starts your brain, making you realize just how hungry you are so you quickly scoop up another forkful and nearly shovel it in your mouth.

"i love you too, honey." he tells you and you turn a little to kiss his sleeved shoulder.

"it's because of the steamed broccoli, isn't it? that always gets the girls all wild for me."

the rest of whatever evil lurking inside you breaks and you snort laugh at him, throwing your head back onto the couch cushion.

[fallingdownhell]

I have been trying to stock up a collection of puppy hybrid reader fics and you're my next victim 😈 /j

Anyways as you know spring/summer season is coming around and that means heat seasons.

May I ask for a genshin character reacting to your heat cycle spontaneously arriving? (With either Kaeya, Diluc, or Zhongli please)

Don't worry, I am willingly becoming a victim. I do not mind.

Characters Included: Zhongli; Diluc

Content: gender neutral reader; established relationship; suggestive and smutty content ahead; puppy!hybrid!reader; heat cycles; mentions of penetration; mentions overstimulation; creampie; fingering; not proofread yet

Word count: 1,6k words

To all the fellow thirsty ones... Enjoy<3

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Zhongli

Seeing as he was once a dragon himself, he would have his own heat/rut cycles coming up

since the two of you have been together for some time, being mated for a few years now, your cycles have adjusted to another so they come around the same time every year

you both know by now how to read the signs of the upcoming season and how to best prepare for it

most times, you go out and buy some groceries and food that will last you for a week (or sometimes even longer), while Zhongli takes care and preparing your home, starting on a nest and stuff like that

you both respectively take the time off from work so no one has to worry about that, though for Zhongli it's often a bit more difficult thanks to the lack of employees at the Funeral Parlor

this time however, is different

you didn't get any of you usual signs that your heat was about to hit you. Nothing at all

yet you woke up this morning, your husband having left for work already, and you immediately knew what was up

your entire body felt hot and filled with such intense need, you almost couldn't control yourself

You started panting, thrashing around the bed, debating on what to do, when suddenly the bedroom door was slammed open, Zhongli standing in there, panting as well, a wild and hungry look in his eyes

He walked over to the bed, his eyes fixed on you and he was immediately over you, kissing you harshly

"Z-Zhongli! W-why-!"

"Forgot something.. wanted to grab it.. smelled your scent. It's early, right?"

Instead of an answer, the only aound that left your lips was a needy whimper as you started grinding against his thigg, trying to get some friction

He growled at you, basically ripping the clothes off of you and himself, then immediately latched onto your neck, sucking and biting one mark after the other, marking you as his property

Your tail started wagging rapidly as Zhongli's nails dug into your hips, holding you in place, not letting you move

You whined as he denied you the pleasure you got from grinding on him, clawing on his back, probably scratching it open but you didn't care

You felt so hot, you just needed some form of relief

"Li, please!", you practically screamed, your heat now fully here, as you tried resisting his grip

Then, two of his long fingers plunged into your hole, making you scream out in pleasure at the sudden intrusion. Yes, it was unexpected, but it just felt too good to finally be filled with something

You moaned shamelessly, throwing your head around against the pillows, taking in your husbands scent

Your moans turned him on even more. Growling again, he pulled you into another harsh, passionate kiss, then pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you feeling empty inside

You almost wanted to cry from the lack of stimulation, but then the next second, you felt his tip against your hole

Before you could say anything, he pushed himself inside in one long thrust. Your head flew back, your eyes rolling back into your skull as your nails dug into hus shoulders

You let out a scream of pleasure, closing your legs around his waist

Words were no longer comprehensable to you, but when you moved your hips against his, he got the message and started moving

His thrusts were long and hard, but still set in a quick pace

It didn't take long for you to orgasm, since you always got far more sensitce during your heat

You came as he was still plunging into you, he felt your walls squeeze tight around his cock. He almost came himself, but he managed to hold back, helping you ride out your high as much as possible

Your body was already starting to tremble from overstimulation, since Zhongli never once stopped moving

It was always like that during that time. Both of you got so needy, horny and insatiable. You alwaya had to force breaks to sustain your bodies with food and water, but those breaks never lasted long before you fell over each other again like animals

Your heat arriving early may have been unexpected, but definitely not unwelcome. Especially since your scent and hormones triggered something within Zhongli, triggering his own rut/heat to arrive early as well, so he could satisfy you with everything you might desire

Zhongli did feel a bit bad that he didn't get a chance to tell his boss that he wouldn't be coming back for at least a week, but when you startes clenching around his cock again, those worries quickly got pushed to the back of his mind so that he could start thrusting into you yet again...

Diluc

Oh boy.. this man is so intrigued by your unique features

Constantly asked you questions about it as you started dating, askig about what was okay to him to touch and what wasn't

Was really hesitant when you first offered him to scratch your ears or pet your tail

Even more nervous when you had sex for the first time. He accidentaly brushed his hand against your tail and he got so scared when you let out a whine at the touch. You had to explain to him that it just felt good and that he did not hurt you

Takes some time but eventually gets the hang of it. Now, he really enjoys to pat your ears or pull slightly on your tail during sex now, and you don't complain about it, since it brings you great pleasure

The first time your heat came around when being with him, you set him down weeks in advance amd explained everything to him

He was a bit shocked about the entire concept, even more so that it affected you as a hybrid as well. But he's more than willing to help you out, since he's your boyfriend after all. And he did, in fact, a very good job..

Now, it was in the middle of the night, yet you woke up, panting and sweating like crazy. At first, you didn't think much of it, maybe you just needed a glass of cold water

So you got up and went down into the kitchen to do just that. But when the water didn't help, you started to get a familiar feeling...

But that couldn't be! You should have another two weeks before your heat woukd start!

But then your body grew even hotter, you got more needy and all you could think about was Diluc, blissfully sleeping in your shared bed

Well... even if you couldn't believe it, you couldn't deny the facts. Your heat has indeed arrived early

You immediately made your way back into the bedroom you shared with Diluc

You felt slightly bad for waking him up, but a larger part within you didn't care about that, only wanting to be filled and fucked right now

As soon as you got there, you climbed on top of Diluc, pulling the covers off of him, grinding against his leg

"Diluc!", you whined amd that, paired with the harsh movement against his body, managed to wake him up

It took him a few seconds to fully wake up, but once he was, his look was both confused and slightly paniced

"(Name)? What's wrong? You're burning up!"

"My heat.. it's early. Please 'luc, I need you!"

Your voice was high pitches and needy, completely different from usual. Luckily for you, Diluc caught on quite fast

Before you knew it, your back was pressed against the mattress and ge was above you, already working on removing both of your clothes

He reached down, wanting to stretch you with his fingers a bit

"No! Please, just.. put it in! I need your cock in me!"

He looked at you for a few seconds, but then only a deep sigh came out and the next second, you coukd already feel his tip pressing up against your hole

He thrusts into you, slowly, allowing you to get used to his size

Once he bottomed out, he wanted to give you a few moments to breath, but you wouldn't have that

You started moving your hips against him, and Diluc lost it at that

Before you knew it, he manhandled you into a doggystyle position and thrust into you from behind, already aetting a rough and fast pace

One hand gripped around your throat from behind, the other grabbed the base of your tail. You cried out in pleasure as he rammes into you, not able to utter even a single word

He held your head high with his hand around your throat, his thrusts never slowing down as he begann nibbling on your neck, soon biting down into the flesh gently

You cried out as you came around his cock, your walls clamping down on him, squeezing him tight

It was too much for him and he came as well, shooting his load deep inside of you

His hips slowed down, letting the both of you ride out the waves of pleasure, before he came to a hold, yet his cock remained inside of you

He knew from the last time just how insatiable you could get when in your heat. And it seemed that this time was no different

Only a few seconds later, you started moving your hips again, begging for him to move

And really, he had no other choice but to oblige, feeling how he was already growing hard again, to fulfill your widh of him pumping you full with his seed..

[usedpidemo]

Update - 3rd year anniversary! (and some future plans, a reflection, etc.)

Hi everyone! π here.

By the time this post is up, it'll be the 13th of May. Three years since I began my writing journey and this Tumblr blog. Three years. Time flies by so fast. I was close to graduating senior high after it was delayed because pandemic, had my graduation in an empty room basically, now I'm hitting my third year of college. Crazy stuff.

With that said, here are the stats + timetable of the blog so far:

First work: Sandwich (Wendy) (published 05/13/21, 4:03 a.m)

Highest note count: Tell your friends (Yujin x Wonyoung) (published 01/14/23, 1274 notes)

Number of works published: 91 fics (1 fic every 12.03 days)

500 followers: June 18, 2021 (36 days)

1000 followers: October 12, 2021 (152 days)

2000 followers: June 18, 2022 (401 days)

3000 followers: November 12, 2022 (548 days)

4000 followers: May 22, 2023 (740 days)

5000 followers: December 18, 2023 (950 days)

Current follower count: 5615 (1 new follower every 5.12 days)

It's been a hectic final month of college, so I apologize for the lack of activity in recent times :< But summer is coming up very soon, so hopefully I'll have all the time in the world to write more till then! I will say, a new fic is on the near horizon, so please be on the lookout!

I would like to take the opportunity to thank every single of you, whether reader, lurker, or a fellow writer for your support! Especially during these lull times, your unwavering support has kept me afloat and has been a motivation in continuing to write. Love you guys as always. Here's to another fruitful year <3

From this point, this part will be an overall reflection and life summary of the previous year, my thoughts on some personal matters, and some ideas I've been contemplating. If you don't wanna read this, you can stop here.

I miss 2023 quite a bit, not gonna lie. I know nostalgia can quickly grow warm and fuzzy, seeing the past through rose tinted lens, but I'll admit that 2024 hasn't been off to the start I envisioned it to be. That year was mostly peak for me, and I could even argue it's my favorite year to live out based on all my experiences. Traveling to new places, finally attending live events, interacting with my K-pop biases, and so on—it really felt like the best was yet to come with how 2023 flowed and transitioned into the new year.

Five months in, and I am struggling. Horribly. Most plans, dreams, and ideas have gone up in smoke, and it's just one devastating gut punch after another. I have a shitty professor in one major that basically made me check out of that class, and I don't know my family will react when I tell them I have to repeat said class because that professor was a dick. My family's been infighting on a daily basis, and I'm mostly collateral damage to them. Not one week can go by without some serious confrontation between them. There was a brief health scare with my mother, but that seems to be a nothing matter; thank God she'll be okay.

All this just makes life so deflating, in all honesty. I get that no life is without struggle, but I genuinely don't know when we'll be in the clear. Not anytime soon, I reckon. In these tough times, there's very little comfort except the past, when everything was pretty all right for the most part. It's been demotivating to write when mom comes forward with another grievance with my sister. It's hard to write when you have a professor who likes to power trip their students into submission. It's hard when you don't know how to admit to your mother that he failed his one class because of said power tripping professor.

But that doesn't mean I will let it eat me alive. I know we've been through some utter lows in the past. And we always get back up. If no one has us, then God does.

Summer break is fast approaching and I want to fix things. Even in my own little way. I know none of what I'm saying has anything to do with writing degenerate stories about hot K-pop idols, but real life circumstances have definitely affected me more than I can brush off. I should be calm, unfazed, undeterred.

After all, some stories are meant to be finished. They just take a more unconventional route. Ask Cody.

With all that being said, I will finish these commissions over the next two months. I'm really sorry to everyone who requested and paid for their stories months and months ago; I genuinely feel bad for not getting these out on time, but I am very mindful of quality control, and I have no one to blame but myself for being a slacker and lazy worker. Despite my feelings, I should remain professional—that's what being a worker means.

A lifestyle overhaul is definitely in my list of things to improve over the summer too. Figuring out how to get writing done, finding ways to alleviate my PokeRogue addiction (GOTY), whilst having a healthy work/life balance and not losing my sanity over it. Or worse, burning out.

And I want to take this opportunity to thank all my friends—peach, caps, majorblinks, chunk, frisky, raf, c.o, levi, sins, iz, ken, v1n, ddeun, notions, kevin, eros, brandon, kaede, svn, frisky, cray, rpg, prael—for putting up with my shit for another year. This life is tough, but you guys make it tolerable. Thank you for letting me air out my grievances even when it wasn't the best time to. I pray that when everything passes, I'm able to repay you all in some shape or form generously.

And to you, dear reader, for making it this far, thank you. Whether you've been with me since day one, or day 1094, as a commenter, reposter, liking, or just passing by/lurking, thank you for giving me a chance. Without you, all of this would have been for nothing. I don't know where I would be now if I didn't take that chance, that leap of faith back in 2021, and it's because of you I am able to keep doing this for the love of the game.

With grace,

Peter / π

[heiayen]

gently wipe the sorrow off my life, i dream scaramouche x gn!reader

summary: "you didn’t know what happened, why it happened and that was breaking your heart, cutting it open, leaving burning pain in your chest, where once flowers of love bloomed." you're surprised and completely heartbroken when your lover, kunikuzushi, suddenly disappears without a trace. you think it's the end of the world, with your heart open and bleeding but soon you discover, that there is still happiness waiting for you.

tags: based on the prompt "there’ll be happiness after you but there was happiness because of you", scara's real name used, modern au (from highschool to college), scara basically pulls an irminsul but why? blame dottore angst/bittersweet, [name] is very much going through it </3 title name taken from the honkai star rail song "if i can stop one heart from breaking". not proofread

notes: hi. i come back with angst! written for @thexianzhoujade's personal memoires event and truthfully i kinda hate this fic HAJAHS but this is fine i am not fine blah blah blah yippee. i forgot how to write scara so sorry if this fic is kinda ooc but yeahhh have fun enjoy !! <3 as if anyone is going to enjoy angst LMAO

“Come on, it’s just one photo and besides, we barely have pictures of us…”

“...just one, fine. Get in here.”

A part of you wished you had taken more pictures with him. Pictures from dates in the blooming parks, from hangouts with your friends after school, from spending time together at his place, something to fill up the empty photo album you found hidden in your room. You filled only a few pages, with a few pictures of you and Kunikuzushi, of you taken by your friends, of your family during holidays, pictures of you and your friends, his friends, a picture of him you took when he didn’t see– the one you considered putting in your wallet, laughing how you’d look like a spouse missing their husband. 

(You counted exactly six photos of him in your album, compared to the twenty or so with others. Barely a quarter, not even a half, barely a page and a half of the album.)

You moved your fingers over one of them, the one you took after graduation– laughing with your friends, posing at the camera, tightly holding his hand, and tugging him closer, and wondered.

Did it have to end like this? If you only knew what was happening, would you somehow fix it in time?

Things were… nice, before. Being with him was nice, even if his personality sometimes made you tug at your hair in annoyance. But you found a common language and spoke in it till the very end, sharing your joy and sadness, annoyance and anger, silent tears and gentle fluttering in your chests. 

When you first met Kunikuzushi in school, you had your opinions about him– he wasn’t the nicest, wasn’t talking with many other students, and seemingly valued his time alone more than with someone. You understood it, some people simply weren’t the social butterflies but it became a problem when, by some unlucky charm (at least, you thought it was unlucky then), you ended up together to work on a project. You didn’t know him and your teacher decided to pair you by herself, saying how she wanted her students to interact more with each other. It seemed like a terrible idea at first.

(You rolled your eyes, giving a look to your friend. You really didn’t entertain this idea– to do a big project with someone other than your friend? You dealt with enough shitty groupmates leaving you on read or delivered in your life, and that was for small projects! What if you got someone as shitty as them? You shuddered at the thought alone.)

But, oh, how wrong you were. You didn’t expect to befriend that guy, and yet a few months in, Kunikuzushi became your best friend, and a year later– your lover. 

You remembered that love confession like yesterday; a little awkward, he jumbled over his words and you said something stupid in return, laughing awkwardly at yourself and almost getting up from that bench and marching back home. It was late, the bench in the park illuminated by the streetlight. A part of you was sure he planned for the confession to look different, yet whatever his ideal plan was, you wouldn’t exchange what you got for it. 

He walked you back home, you remembered, holding your hand.

To say you were happy was an understatement. Something bloomed in your chest with every day spent together with him, the little affections between you warming your heart and cheeks, and every morning seemed… a little brighter. It wasn’t wake up, get dressed, go to school, spend majority of your day studying, sleep, anymore.

Wake up, reply to Kunikuzushi’s late night message he sent. Get dressed and don’t forget about that chain necklace with a pendant he gave you for your birthday (you were matching, of course you were matching). Go to school and spend the day with your friends, with Kunikuzushi, with his friends (although you weren’t sure if that ginger guy was really his friend, but…). Spend the rest of your day studying, texting, and sometimes hanging out if you had free time (which turned into weekly hangouts with all your friends and… sometimes, more than once a week, just you and Kunikuzushi). Text him goodnight and smile at his, although short, reply back. Sleep. 

You hoped it would stay like this… for longer. For as long as possible, just living in this bliss, being happy and not alone, with people you loved and who loved you back, some even more than others.

(Selfishly, you wanted that to last forever. Forever the high school student with no worries other than passing exams and doing your homework on time. Forever with your friends, spending weekends with them, having fun and not caring about anything else. Was it selfish to want to be happy forever?)

Kunikuzushi was here with you for all your problems, even if, truthfully, he wasn’t the best at solving them, and neither he was good at words. But he was still here, offering you support and letting you talk about what annoyed you, what made you sad and sometimes, he still would try to comfort you, loudly agreeing with your complaints, (lovingly) threatening to beat someone up if they were an asshole to you, telling you to not worry. It wasn’t the end yet. 

His presence alone helped you manage through harder days– it was better to be with someone after all, rather than spend your days wallowing in sadness alone, with only the walls willing to listen. 

(You offered him help, too. Quietly sitting and listening to his rants about his mother, squeezing his hand and tugging him closer to you– or simply being next to him, when touch was something unwanted.)

When graduation came, in bittersweet tears you promised your friends (and Kunikuzushi, of course) to still be in touch with them, and never leave them alone just because you weren’t students from the same class anymore. That didn’t change anything, no.

The summer vacation you spent mostly with your friends, hanging out and enjoying the warm, summer weather. So many trips, so many walks with Kunikuzushi and dates– oh, that picnic you two went on one day… it started raining at one point (the weather reports lied to you, it seemed) and you only had a blanket to cover yourself from the rain. How funny it was, how much you wished you could get the chance to do it again, with him–

You sighed, closing the album. Sometime before the summer’s end, right before the start of college, you noticed… changes in Kunikuzushi’s behavior. He still was your lover, caring about you in his own ways, he still was the man you loved, but something seemed to always bug him. Something seemed to sit on his shoulders, heavy. You always asked him if he was okay because yes, yes, you noticed his worse mood, noticed all the little things he tried to hide and you were worried, really worried, and–

And yet, you never got a proper answer. Always to not worry, that nothing was wrong, and you were tired of that, maybe if you, at least this once, pressed him for answers, during that summer night you called a date–

Maybe you would know why he suddenly disappeared without a trace.

The many messages you sent, the many unanswered calls– you asked your friends around, his friends, and were greeted with radio silence in answer. You didn’t know what happened, why it happened and that was breaking your heart, cutting it open, leaving burning pain in your chest, where once flowers of love bloomed.

(These flowers would never truly burn, you feared. Some would still leave, polluting your heart and making it harder to breathe.)

What was once beautiful turned into a burden, far too heavy to carry alone. There was so much stress on your plate– because what if something happened to him? What if someone did something to him, what if there was something you could do to change it? Why were you so distracted throughout the day? Why was it hard to get up in the morning, why the only thing you wanted to do was to wait at your phone, with hopes of seeing at least a single message from him? Where went your motivation to study, to do well in college as you promised yourself?

Where was he? What happened? Could you change it?

Were you at fault?

(No, of course you weren’t. You did everything in your power, but it just wasn’t enough. None of this was your fault.)

Were you alone in it?

…no, you weren’t. It felt like you were, especially at first; with new people around you, your friends offering you support but ultimately being busy, you felt alone. Terribly so, loneliness gnawing at your soul all the time, leaving the icy cold feeling in its wake. 

But life forced you to get up from that pit, whether you wanted that or not. You couldn’t fail your major, not when you worked so hard to get into it in the first place. And neither you wanted to completely cut off your friends, so you started replying to their texts more. You’ve met new people, too, and made new friendships.

Things were getting back on track after, you thought that they wouldn’t. You pulled yourself up with your own strength, with your friends cheering for you from the distance, their cheers putting a smile on your face. 

(Younger you thought that if you ever were to break up with Kunikuzushi, the world would simply… end. You ignored that thought creeping into your mind, waved it away, pushed it deep at the bottom of your mind. It wouldn’t happen.)

Now, as you looked at the pictures, you still felt a sharp pang in your chest. You missed him, yes, and you still thought about the days you spent together with him, but they no longer brought you back into that darkness you once experienced.

They were a bittersweet memory now. Ones, you would cherish till the end, gently putting them on the shelf with new, happy memories. 

You hummed to yourself in thought, tapping at the cover of the album with your nail. Maybe instead of pondering how you should take more photos of the past, maybe you should take more of the future? Fill the album up with new photos of yourself, your friends, random things that you found pretty and worth remembering. 

Your phone threw you out of the thinking, the loud noise of the ringtone filling up the room. Right, you were supposed to meet up with your friends in an hour and here you were, going through your old stuff and procrastinating the shower. 

You put the album away and picked up your phone. A smile tugged at your lips hearing the overjoyed voice of your friend, telling you how excited they are to meet with you again (your last hangout was two weeks ago!) and that they already left.

You looked back at the album.

With today, you’d start filling it up with new memories of your happiness.

[jeonride]

would you dance with me?

SUMMARY; in the middle of a party, you are the one hansol is looking for.

FEATURING; chwe hansol x fem!reader

GENRE; fluff, comfort, a lil' bit angst, non-idol au, meet cute, strangers to lovers, and this fic also feels like hmm, modern royalty (?) basically just like how high-class people throw a party and yeah includes waltz dancing ! <3

WORD COUNT; 3.3 K

WARNINGS; mentions of insecurities, flaws, anxiety, and the reader isn't confident with herself, suggestive

NOTES FROM KALA; just imagine this fine man asks you to dance with him..

jeonride's masterlist / join the taglist here !

Your eyes stare straight into the brilliant mirror, clean of any stains and dust. Your body stands rigid, feeling every strap of the dress you're wearing being pulled by your maids- meant to tighten, to make your waist look slim. Your chest is tight because your mother told you to wear a special corset for the dress- she said it would make your breasts look better. Yet you don't feel any difference.

Tonight is your grandmother's 70th birthday. You even wonder at the prospect of living such a long life with endless wealth. It's not that you wish for her to die soon, no. But it's tiring to come to your grandmother's birthday party that is celebrated every year. It's not that your grandmother is bad or that she likes to talk bad about you with her friends, it's not.

It's because you know that whether or not you're at the party doesn't affect your grandmother's happiness.

You realize you're not beautiful.

You're not as pretty as your cousins and that's what makes you insecure. Even though your mom says you're beautiful as long as you take care of yourself, it's hard to accept that kind of opinion- or even praise, as it turns out. You're the one who feels that you're not pretty enough, even though other people say you are, you don't believe it. Back to you again, deep down inside you feel less beautiful and not worthy to come to a lively party filled with prestigious people, conglomerates, with their gorgeous faces. As a result, you are always alone in the corner of the ballroom. There is never, ever a gentleman to ask you to dance with him.

You don't feel that you're pathetic, though. You enjoy watching people dance with their respective partners. Embracing each other, stepping together, dancing the waltz gracefully with their eyes fixed on each other. Though you have to admit, sometimes you get lonely watching it all. How exciting it would be if there was a guy who would waste his precious time just to dance with you.

Your grandmother also prefers to talk about tea parties, new dresses by famous designers, and the most expensive wine to sip on the night of her birthday party with your other cousins. Your grandmother always said that she loved all her grandchildren equally. But it's you who feels it. And well, what you feel is different from her perspective. She laughs with your other cousins, stroking their chins and complimenting them on how pretty they are, while with you, she laughs at your stupid antics, calling you her most different grandchild. Her odd grandchild.

Like the dimmest star in the night sky.

"Please do not move too much, Miss." said one of your maids when you're squirming too much because the way she fastens the straps of your dress around your waist is too tight as if you are forbidden to run away from the party and you are sure if you insist on running away from the party, your breath would be taken away because your dress seems to be strangling the wearer's body.

Your mother, on the other hand, folds her arms across her chest, smiling with satisfaction as she sees her daughter looking beautiful with her makeup done. "You look beautiful, darling." she praises.

You exhale roughly, blowing the air upwards so that the stray hair covering your face is blown away, moving gently. "It's because of the make-up, mother."

"Well you're still beautiful, y/n. As long as you're confident."

"The problem is I don't feel confident."

Your mother waves her hand as if to say, 'enough, cut the crap I don't want to argue tonight.'

"Mother, can I not come-"

"Talk one more time and I'll make sure you don't get your evening snack again, y/n."

"Oh come on," you complain. Rolling your eyes in aversion. Your mom isn't too concerned about you being alone again tonight, just like at the previous parties.

One of the maids who has been adjusting the lace of your dress starts to put the 5cm heels on your feet. Her movements are gentle, that maid is indeed a trusted one, having served you since childhood. "Does it hurt, miss?" she asks. "Because I know your shoe size differs by one centimeter depending on the shoe brand. Does this one feel tight?"

You smile, returning the gaze of your maid who now looks up to gaze at you. "It doesn't hurt, it doesn't feel uncomfortably tight. Thank you for always looking out for my comfort."

The 40-year-old maid chuckles. "It's my job, miss. I'll be sad if you feel your feet hurting at the party. Because today your grandmother's birthday party is more festive than ever, she is entering her seventh decade! Can you imagine that?! She is blessed with a long life." Your maid sets the shoe on your bare left foot, slowly. "Therefore, I want you to be able to comfortably dance with a gentleman at this party, miss."

You are stunned. Swallowing your saliva, you are not sure if there is a gentleman who wants to dance with you even though your loved ones say you look as beautiful and perfect as a royal princess wearing a baby blue ball gown with white lace at the bottom and glittering white high heels.

Your maid strokes your shoulder gently, smiling in a way that you don't know how to define. But it's a warm smile.

"Trust me, miss. Tonight, there will be a man that will ask you to dance."

Arriving at the hotel where your grandmother's birthday is being celebrated, you are amazed by all the decorations. That's right, this time the party is more festive. Even at the parking lot, you can see many limousines lined up, neat and shiny like they have just been delivered from the car showroom.

Your mother gets out of the car first, handing the guard an invitation printed in gold as a sign of vvip member which means, part of your grandmother's family. You follow your mother behind, awkward enough as you are in the middle of the crowd now.

"Head up, darling. Don't keep your head down. Look around, try to greet whoever it is. And oh, don't forget to keep smiling!"

"Yes, mother. You said it so many times that I memorized it."

"Already memorized but not doing as I told you."

You remain silent, replying to your mother's words with a heavy sigh. Then you slowly walk the red velvet carpeted stairs that lead to the ballroom. Once inside, you are amazed again. There are glittering chandeliers, and cakes as tall as five meters, or even more. Gilded tables full of people eating cake and drinking wine, chocolate fondue, sweets, and of course, your grandmother's 70th birthday photo shoot displayed near the golden chair she's sitting on now. Your grandmother looks like she's on a throne. Her bleached hair is pulled up into a high bun, with a crown of pearls holding her long hair back. She wore a bright red dress, successfully capturing the attention of the man who seemed to be the same age as her, older to be more precise.

Your mother approaches your grandmother, carrying a large silver gift box with a black ribbon on it. They talked for a while, then when your grandmother finally turned to you, her face lit up.

"Hello, darling!" she greets you. "You look stunning tonight. I almost didn't even recognize you."

"Grandma, you're overreacting. It's all just because I'm wearing makeup."

"What's wrong with wearing makeup? As long as it makes you more beautiful then there's nothing wrong with it, right?"

You just shrugged your shoulders. Then your hand picks up a glass of wine brought by the waiter who is going back and forth while carrying a tray with many glasses on it.

"Grandma, happy 70th birthday. I hope you become more beautiful and always be healthy. Now, can I go home?"

Your mother glares, pinching your arm unseen by your grandmother which successfully makes you scowl.

"So you think I'm going to let you go home after that insincere birthday wish?" your grandmother shakes her head in disagreement. "Unfortunately, you can't go home as soon as usual. My friend's grandson wants to meet you tonight."

Huh?

You blink, your brows furrowed. Astonished by your grandmother's words. "Who?"

And your grandmother just flashed a smirk. "Ah, you'll find out later."

Then your grandmother claps her hands, drawing everyone's attention to her figure. She opens her birthday party with a short speech, ending with a toast. Everyone raises their glasses high, so you just do what they do even though it's awkward because there are more adult people at this party, mostly 35 years old and above. Well, they're all your grandmother's colleagues who come just because they don't want their relationship with her to suffer just because they didn't come to wish her a happy birthday and insincere wishes like your grandmother said just now. Their faces flash smiles with fake friendliness and somehow, you're sick of this kind of atmosphere. It's boring, full of two-faced people with tricks up their sleeves.

You quietly walk to the corner of the ballroom. Can't stand the pain of wearing heels. You aren't used to wearing them. You aren't used to wearing dresses, using makeup, or acting like a civilized princess, you just can't do it. You also feel dizzy because of how tight your bun is.

So when you reach the corner of the ballroom even though can't hide your 'had enough' expression because the entire ballroom is lit by chandeliers light, you take off your heels. Lifting your dress unconcernedly, you gently massage your calves that are starting to ache while your left-hand carries your pair of white heels. You've only been standing for a few minutes, but the soreness in your feet when wearing heels is more powerful than usual.

"Excuse me, miss. You shouldn't have lifted your dress like that," a man from nowhere, with gelled black hair, comes up to you and kneels in front of you to take down your dress that has been lifted to your knees.

You are surprised, of course. Especially because he kneeling in front of you like that. He could have managed to get a view of your panties- damn, this must be just one of those jerks pretending to be a gentleman.

"Stay away from me!" you say harshly, your foot moving to kick his wrist. "Don't pretend to be nice. I know you have devious intentions of peeking inside-"

"Wait, wait, pardon? Peek at what? I can't even see what's in there because your dress is covered in layers of lace skirts, miss." the man finally looked up, staring at you. Smiling, not looking angry even though you just kicked his wrist. You can stupidly feel your cheeks heating up just from looking at his handsome face and captivating brown eyes. "Does your leg hurt that bad, miss? Your face is flushed. Want me to help?"

Dumbass. You should control your heart beat now, that is unfortunately becoming faster and more noisy. You are worried he will be able to hear your heart racing.

Calm yourself down.

Do not fall for the beauty of a someone's face.

"I don't need your help, sir. Just mind your own business."

"Sir?" he laughs. "Just call me Hansol, y/n."

How does he know your name?

"I'm sorry but have we met before?"

He shakes his head. "This is the first time I have approached you just because, a young lady like you lifted her dress up to her knees without thinking further about her action."

You wave your hand, a habit that you got from your mother whenever you feel like you do not want to hear more about the topic you don't like to be involved with, "Okay? I said, just mind your own business, Hansol." maybe he knows your name from your grandmother or perhaps, this man is the grandson of your grandmother's friend?

His smile grows even wider as if he likes the way your tongue pronounces his name. "But you are the business itself. Came here because of you, miss."

Your head tilts to the side a little, "What do you mean?"

"You don't have a partner to dance?"

You shrugged. "Is that even important?"

"So it's a no?" he guessed it right. You never had a partner to dance. Not even just for one night.

"Yes, I don't have a partner to dance and why is that?"

"Then would you dance with me?"

Your eyebrows immediately furrowed. But your stomach certainly feels tingly, like a butterfly's wings are fluttering. Your heart beats faster. This is the first time you've heard such a request. The first time a man has asked you to dance with him.

"Wait. But why?"

This time, it is Hansol who looks confused. "Does there have to be a reason to dance with you? If so, then I would say, because I don't have a dance partner."

Oh.

So he's just an ordinary guy who doesn't have a dance partner, so he asked you to dance? Okay, you don't have to feel special then. But, is it possible? How come there's no one asks a good-looking and educated man like Hansol to dance?

"There are other women you can dance with, Hansol. You don't deserve a dance partner like me."

"Why are you talking like that? Why are you judging yourself when others can see the potential in you?"

You chuckle. "What potential? Hansol, I don't even look attractive. Like you said earlier, I don't think much before I do something. I even go barefoot now because I'm uncomfortable wearing heels."

"Then? I fail to see any problems with your appearance now." Hansol then smiles again. It is such a beautiful smile that you can see the wrinkles at the end of his eyes. Wow, he is the definition of a gorgeous man, looks to have a lot of money, an influential position, and is well-educated. Dangerous. At this moment, you think you will fall in love at first meeting.

"You look like a dream come true in my eyes."

Your face turns red. It's hot. You can feel your cheeks heating up to your ears. Who exactly is this guy? Hey, he caught you off-guard!

"What are you talking about, Hansol?"

"The waltz is about to start, you'd better agree to my offer."

"If I don't?"

Hansol chuckled. "Well, I've asked you anyway. I think I'm just going to pull you into the center of the ballroom."

"What? Wait-!"

Before you realize that Hansol's hand is gently tugging on your wrist, he has already led you to the middle of the ballroom. To the dance floor, to be more precise. "Hansol, but I'm not good at dancing!" you protest to him.

"That's okay, you can follow my footsteps, then."

"Hansol, I-" your gaze meets your grandmother's. And she just smiles at the sight of her odd and most different granddaughter finally being seen with a man to dance at her birthday party.

Then, the waltz music started. Your other cousins are already around you with their respective partners. They smile at you, happy that you are finally participating in the dance after all the parties your grandmother has organized.

"Hansol-"

"It's already started, y/n." he says. "Hold my hand, and put your other hand on my arm."

You finally obey Hansol's words as the waltz has started. Your body is a little stiff because you are nervous about the attention of the people around you. But Hansol succeeded in calming you down with his smile. His other hand is on your back while your right hand intertwines with his. You can feel how smooth and warm his hand is.

"Watch my steps carefully," he whispers. You start with a basic waltz box step, and you slowly follow his footsteps, unconsciously keeping your face down.

"Keep your head up, y/n. Follow my footsteps without actually looking at my feet."

You look up at him. Feeling a strange feeling as your gazes met. Your heart is beating fast now as if your chest could rip apart because of it. Your eyes glance around so you don't meet his eyes because you feel nervous.

"Eyes on me, young lady." Hansol reprimands.

You nervously return his gaze. But Hansol's gaze slowly lowers from staring at your eyes to your lips, certainly making you think of something else that manages to make your cheeks feel even hotter.

"You're doing great. Follow my count, okay? One, two, three... one, two, three. That's right," he compliments. You follow the count and Hansol's footsteps, matching the music.

"You're flushed." Hansol chuckles softly, lowering his voice as much as possible to not be heard by others because the ballroom situation is now really solemn. Everyone is dancing gracefully with their partners and if there are people who aren't dancing, they're watching with genuine smiles on their faces.

"Oh, shut up, Hansol."

The man notices the look on your face change. "Why? Is there something wrong?"

"I- I just feel... I don't deserve to dance with you, Hansol. There are many more beautiful women-"

"But I just want to dance with you," Hansol answers back with a definite intonation. His gaze implies sincerity in his words. "Stop talking like that, y/n. You are beautiful. You're beautiful inside and out and I like that."

"How can you say that? You sound like you've known me for a long time, Hansol." You laugh, finally revealing your genuine smile to him. And that makes Hansol stunned because god, to him your smile is so lovely and charming.

"Because I... have liked you for a long time but didn't have the courage to say it. I've only been watching you from afar, y/n."

You remain silent. Feeling surprised. Your eyes widen, looking at Hansol to see if he meant what he just said. But seeing Hansol's attitude who immediately looks away with reddened ears, it seems like he meant what he said to you.

"I... I like you, y/n. So stop judging yourself because really, you are enough. I'm sad if you feel less beautiful than other women. You have no idea how beautiful you are in my eyes."

With his gentle attitude and words that sound so sincere,

Oh, y/n.

You fall in love with him.

Falling for the man you just met because of his sincerity towards you. Falling for the first man who asked you to dance.

It makes you remember what your grandmother told you when you were little, "Keep dancing even if you're alone, darling. Keep dancing until you find your partner to dance with,"

And you found him.

© jeonride 2023. All rights reserved. Please do not copy, translate, plagiarize, or repost any of my writing anywhere!

[harringroveobsessed]

@robthegoodfellow @feedthefandomfest

All done! Thank you for this challenge, although I never need an excuse to binge Harringrove I’ve had a grand old time 🩷

Billy and max - these streets will make you feel brand new by whenyouwishuponastar @whenyouwishuponastar7

Another one of my favourites. Sneaky successful Billy and a flustered Steve trying (and failing) not to fall head over heels in love with the hot guy on the subway. Lots of Robin and Steve fun too. It’s so gooood, I’ve read it too many times to count and adore it every time!

Fix it - Billy Hargrove Is Not Dead melanie_bxx @harringroveera

Another of my favourites. I used to sit every Tuesday staring at my phone waiting for my email with a new chapter. Billy gets his man and a family all in one go. So much lighthearted fun and good vibes in this fic, it always puts a smile on my face. My ultimate fix it Billy fic of all time.

Soft Billy - spinning out (waiting for you) by unlikely_alliance

It’s season 4 with bonus added BILLY so naturally it’s amazing. Little found family action with Billy and the Byers/El which is sweet. Soft boys falling in love while vecna tries to kill everyone and end the world. It has everything you would want to read.

Gay Billy - .｡❅*⋆⍋* Warm Nights at Frosty Heights *⍋⋆*❅｡. By BouncyPickle

Harringrove antics at a fancy fucking 80’s ski lodge. Come on now that’s just fucking amazing. 9 chapters of Steve absolutely wooing Billy with everything he’s got. I smile whenever I even think about this one. It’s just super fun and lighthearted and COSY and makes me feel like Christmas came early.

Billy redemption- Something Like a Family by HashtagLEH

I’m forever obsessed with this one, season 2/3 with much, much more Billy. Like he’s there from the start. Billy & El are besties. Max and Billy fix their shit. Harringrove sweet sweet slow burn. It’s basically how the series would have gone if Harringrove fans could have had their way. Amazing.

Hurt Billy -What If You Loved Me by firstiwasliketheniwaslike

This fic broke my heart several times but it’s already on my reread list. Happy ending though obviously do not fear it just takes a long while to get there. Lots of good honest hurt Billy in this one. There is just so much story spanning over so much time I can’t even summarise anything. You just gotta read it to appreciate it!

Top Billy - California dreaming by writer_in_theory @writer-in-theory

6 years after Billy’s ‘death’ guess who finds him working in a tattoo shop (!)… Steve obviously. I love this one, anything with past lovers coming back to each other has me on board and this fic stole my heart. It’s just lovely and the boys get their happy ending on the beach. I couldn’t ask for more from this fic it’s perfect.

[theravenmuse]

Tagged by @kotias

How many works do you have in AO3? 55! A few of which are art or meta, but the majority are fics.

What’s your total AO3 word count? 329,403 words.

What fandoms do you write for? Almost exclusively Good Omens.

Top five fics by Kudos:

1. I Could Be Yours (E) - 614 Kudos

The version of Good Omens where Aziraphale and Crowley are a pair of horny immortals who enjoy engaging in very long, very elaborate, VERY INTENSE role plays.

This fic is currently part of a hostage situation and will not be updated unless/until that is resolved. I do have a handful of chapters written and ready to go though.

2. I’ll Cum Quietly (E) - 613 Kudos (for a one chapter fic? We were all a little horny after that ending, I suppose. 😆)

Aziraphale has a REACTION to Crowley saying that line. Spoiler alert: Crowley does not come quietly. XD

3. The Nightingales Were Just Sleeping In (T) - 518 Kudos

The one where Crowley falls to the bookshop floor, a sobbing mess, and these two idiots finally figure out they’re just on opposite sides of the same page.

4. Oh, Simple Thing, Where Have You Gone (M/E I keep changing my mind) - 490 Kudos

Let’s make it worse! And then eventually fix it, I promise.

Immediately post season 2, we’re going to find out just how sinister the Metatron’s plan is.

Still a WIP. I’m coming back to this one as soon as I catch up on my event things.

5. Show Me You Love Me? (E) - 406 Kudos

After dealing with a few unruly demons, Aziraphale has been crowned the local demon expert. This mostly means informing the local priests that they have in fact trapped yet another normal human and setting the poor fellows loose. That is until today.

Alternatively: Crowley gets caught by some enthusiastic humans and was likely well on his way to discorporation before Aziraphale steps in. Aziraphale tenderly cares for Crowley, and then there are love confessions, and then Aziraphale takes care of Crowley in a different way.

Do you respond to comments? When I have the spoons I respond to every comment, even the basic “I loved this” ones. But spoons have been in short supply lately so I’ve only been responding to comments that I have meaningful responses to.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Oh my. Isn’t that a question. And surprisingly, it does have a definitive answer. This was only the fifth fic I ever published. It’s the first dark fic I ever wrote. It altered the way I think about using horror elements in storytelling. It has very few hits and kudos. It remains to this day one of my favourite works, despite the fact that I’ve grown so much in my prose and story structuring since then.

It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year (E) Mind the tags. I did not do in depth CWs the way I do them now. All of the warnings are in the tags only.

A Christmas horror story in which Crowley accidentally releases the demon of Yule, Krampus. Intense horror elements throughout, especially at the end. There is no bright side at the end of this. There is no safety. There is no peace.

What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? This one is actually harder. I know I’m more known for dark fic, but I’ve written more than one piece where they’re just completely happy at the end. Nothing could be better. Because of that, I’m going to go with the one with the happy ending that means the most to me. That would be this one:

There were Angels Dining at the Ritz (G)

Seasons 1, 2, and 3 (I hope) from the perspective of a waitress at the Ritz.

Do you get hate on fics? Not really. I’ve gotten two hate comments over 30+ dark and/or intense kink fics. One of those accounts is perma-banned, the other got off with a warning. Try it, I dare you.

Do you write smut? Yes indeed. The kinkier the better. You didn’t ask, but this is my favourite soft smut:

Just Another Day in the Rest of Their Lives (E)

It's a soft sort of spice, being woken by your lover's kisses in the cottage you share in the South Downs. How long can they linger here, letting eternity pass them by?

And this is my favourite kink:

Submission (E)

Crowley is in one of his "bratty bottom" moods and needs some help calming down.

And finally, my favourite dark smut fics:

Belle Mort (E) - lovingly nicknamed “Necro”

Heaven is on to the Arrangement. Fortunately, Aziraphale has a plan to throw them off the scent. Surely hereditary enemies couldn't be fraternizing if one of them discorporates the other? Crowley would never agree to such a plan, of course, but they can talk about it after.

No Escape For the Wicked (E) - lovingly nicknamed “eggs”

Crowley has been Lucifer's brood bitch from the dawn of the Earth, a duty he can't escape after his treachery. When he is forced to return to the depths of Hell for his task following his betrayal, he finds a vengefully jealous master.

Craziest Crossover? I don’t know about craziest, but this Good Omens X The Sandman is quite a bit of kinky fun.

Desire (E)

Crowley has spent the last several thousand years keeping Desire at bay. He's had to. But after a certain night in 1941, when Crowley's defenses are shot and Desire comes in the shape of his angel, the demon at last gives in to a temptation of his own making.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I’m aware of. I do occasionally scour for stolen works through general Google search, but that isn’t a guarantee.

Have you ever had a fic translated? The first chapter of I Could Be Yours has a Russian translation. I’m unsure if the translator intends to do more. The lovely @nosferatini has also made a podfic of Platypi and Other Insignificant Topics of Discussion.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Not that has been published yet. I have written fics based on other works and have had a few write fics based on mine. There’s a lovely comic up on Gleafer’s Patreon based on one of my own Patreon Exclusive fics. The Great Flood (available now to free and paid members on my Patreon).

All time favourite ship? Aziraphale/Crowley. Honorable mention to the crack ship I’ll go down with: The Bookshop/The Bentley.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Still unnamed. Serial art thief Anthony Crowley/FBI agent Ezra Fell. Slow burn. And I mean slooooow burn. Currently sitting at 150k words. It will be well over 400k when completed, I think.

What are your writing strengths? Intense emotion. Intense psychological elements. Putting just the right amount of feeling into a whump fic that the pain hits that much harder.

What are your writing weaknesses? I’m still a fairly young writer. I’ve only been publishing fic for four years. I’ve only really been writing for about fifteen. Because of that, I’m still evolving very rapidly. I see it the most in my prose. I’m still learning how grammar works among other things.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? It’s fine. It can help with the story immersion. I don’t speak any other language well enough to use more than the occasional short phrase. I do have an upcoming Rennaisance Era Pirate/Witch Crowley who says quite a few Irish Gaelic expletives.

First fandom you wrote in? Warrior cats. Never published but I do still have it somewhere around here. Written in pencil so it’s fading fast. 😆

Favourite fic you’ve ever written? YOU WOULD HAVE ME CHOOSE BETWEEN MY CHILDREN?!

Okay, I really did try. I scrolled through several times but I can’t choose. So instead, have the crack fic that I nearly got a heart attack over when someone sent an ask about it to Neil Gaiman’s inbox. 😳

Hey Sexy, Wanna Oil My Exhaust Pipe? (E)

The Bentley doesn't appreciate being left out in the cold while her demon gets it on with his angel. Fortunately, the bookshop is all too willing to engage in some fun times of their own.

Tagging: @nosferatini @theonewiththeshippinggoogles @naromoreau @startledplatypus @depressedpenguin2

[immortalbutterflycos]

I've come to realize something important in writing. (specifically in my personal experience)

(TLDR; I have ADHD and writing is hard even though I'm still doing it every single day. Make it make sense.)

If you have a story in your head that means a lot to you, and you need to take more time to develop and fully flesh it out before posting it, that's totally okay! In fact, in my experience, it has the potential to make the story better over time, really forming it into what you imagine it to be.

Here's an example because I just typed a lot of words and right now I can't seem to process whether they make sense or not.

I have a fanfic that I've been working on for a year now. (For the Marauders fandom if y'all are curious)

It's one that I haven't talked about much because every time I do, I end up losing the motivation to write. This is what happened to another one of my fics for the Haikyuu fandom. (well that and the Marauders.. yeah they fucked me up in the best way and Freckles and Constellations has really suffered because of it smh)

So the reason why this fic is taking so long is because it is such a specific AU that I'm out here trying to meld magic systems, and I've got like EIGHT MAIN CHARACTERS to write backstories for to fit this AU while also being true to them and even though I know the basic plot, there are just so many little details and aspects that will make this fic what I desperately need it to be.

And no one knows just how intricate it is or how important it is to me. Which is totally fine. I don't even know if people are going to read it when I finally manage to post it. This fic is purely self-indulgent.

let me just break down for you what I have prepared for this already:

countless drabbles and scenes and plans written on the backs of receipts and on bits of scrap paper

a 3" 3-ring binder that I've been trying to organize it all in

a google doc titled "TAoRfOL Doc Masterlist" that has links to every single doc I have for this one fic. (it's dated back to March of last year and as of this month has 93 total links. Only 5 of those are reference links.)

notes and ideas i have written in my phone to transfer into docs so I can add them to the masterlist

Hero Forge digital models of those 8 main characters because I wanted to see what their group would look like outside of my imagination

Multiple Spotify playlists dedicated to this fic and the characters which I listen to every single day. (currently @ 494 songs)

And you know what? I just recently, at 6 am this morning, finally figured out the solution to a fucking plot hole I could not work around.

Basically what I'm saying is that I needed all of this time. Every single day I see things and get inspiration. Every day I learn new things and fix errors in my own plans.

As much as I crave the validation and recognition for all of my hard work on this project, I know that If I had just bit the bullet and posted the first chapter without having done all of this research and all of this planning, then it would not have lived up to the story I have in my head.

I admire people who can just write without all of the added steps and in some cases, I can do that. I haven't been able to in a while (which is why that Valentine's Day microfic was actually really big for me to have posted) but that's just how my brain works.

I needed all of my experiences and all of my daily thoughts and all of my collective playlists for this fic to be able to write the story I intended and that is exactly what I'm going to do.

(though if I'm being honest, this timeline is rough. I really want to just write and post this first chapter so so so bad. ToT)

[kipperlillyforpresident]

Okay so number one. Super cool that you wrote your paper on the American dream. Single-handedly it is my favorite antag from any season.

And two. Well it is true the back to back filming probably definitely made them have less nuance for this. I absolutely agree with your statement. If your players can't engage in a story something is probably wrong. Honestly I've just come to the conclusion that the reason that episode 19 felt so weird. Is because it felt more like it was the intrepid heroes killing the rat grinders. Instead of the bad kids killing the rat grinders. Like I don't know if I'm just going crazy here?? I know it happens where your characters blend together so much in your mind That it's hard to differentiate the character from the player. But things felt so mean spirited in like a unique way. Like a unique way that you can only get from hating a villain as the viewer. Instead of like the character. Because besides Kristen trying to see if Buddy was still in there. It felt as if, the bad kids. Who have notoriously all been put into difficult situations at different times because of various adults. Saw what is basically just them without the support system. And hit it with a nuke. It's not like a Johnny spells type thing where You can be like "this guy sucks. kill his ass." Cause besides Kipper Lily. We don't actually know any of the rat grinders motivations. Like people can say that the rat grinders were just power hungry All they want. But the more likely answer is probably, Porter saw a group of vulnerable children who were actively unsatisfied with the situation they had been put in. And prayed on that!

It's frustrating definitely. But there is always fix it fics. And these final episodes aren't going to stop me from loving the rat grinders. I do not care what anyone in the fandom says. Because half of the time they're just spitting the same misogynistic bullshit we got with saccharina frostwhip. I'm genuinely hoping That at least the adventuring party clears up some things??. But my hopes are low unfortunately. Mary Ann forever though. She got that dog in her

a) IT WAS REALLY COOL!! i also wrote a final paper in a different class about the cubbys . Communications is kind of fake as hell as a major (if youre thinking of becoming a comm major dont </3 its great for student athletes who dont need jobs. as for me. um. well. 1 year out of college no new job), but it meant I was able to write a lot of interesting papers and my professors gave me room to run with it.

b) That's a really interesting thesis, and I haven't thought about it before, but that honestly makes a lot of sense...? Like, in that Really Uncomfortable Speech that was given before Ruben died, he was blamed for wasting a season on him. Which is an extremely meta/IH thing. It makes no sense for Fig to say that. But it does make sense for Emily to say that.

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

~*~

1. Can you help me find a fic? It was a poly ship, with I think Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng, Jin Zixuan, and Wei Wuxian. Possibly also Nie Huaisang? LWJ, JC, JZX (+maybe NHS) were divine beasts and WWX was another mythical beast but he hid it. I don’t think they were all romantically involved: WWX was the pivot between the others. It was abo or a fated-soulmate au. I think I might be getting two fics confused though, because I remember there is one where WWX, LWJ, JC, and JZX form some kind of soul bond and they fight through the Sunshot Campaign together and they can read each other’s thoughts and bring each other back to life, but this one is not that one! Can’t remember that one’s name either and it isn’t in my bookmarks. TT

FOUND? I’m pretty sure the one with the fourway soulbond is Quartet series by WithBroomBefore (T, 69k, Platonic Soulbond, Hurt/comfort, Canon   Divergence, No golden core transfer, JC&JZX stay in Xuanwu cave, Fix-it, Temporary character death)

~*~

2. Hello! I am looking for a fic where  Wei Wuxian is a hairstylist. Rich!Lan Wangji keeps coming back even though originally he would only make an appointment with the owner. Likes his scalp massage. I can't remember if the owner is Huaisang or Wen Ning. Thank you for your help! @toopunkrockforshul

FOUND! Delivered in Silence by DeviyudeThoolika (E, 17k, WangXian, Modern AU, Slow Burn, hairstylist!WWX, client!LWJ, Horny WangXian)

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3. For fic finder: An mpreg fic: in the Gusu lectures Jin Zixuan rapes Wei Wuxian, and so Madame Yu pulls WWX out of classes and drags him back to Lotus Pier where he is confined in secret for a year to have the child. The story continues on through the canon storyline with WWX repeatedly clashing with JZX especially over his engagement to Yanli. LWJ realizes that JZX hurt WWX and stands by WWX’s side to face JZX. I think it was a very long fic.(wangxian endgame, not WWX/JZX)

FOUND! secrets for the stars to keep by UchiHime (M, 37k, WangXian, XuanXian, XuanLi, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mpreg, Canon Divergence, not a/b/o, Hurt/Comfort, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Recovery)

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4. Help me please! I am struggling to find a fic due to tumblr’s dumb search system (I know I originally found it due to this blog). The fic involves Lan Zhan slowly turning into jade and Wei Wuxian is asked to help bc he is great at breaking curses! It turns into the two of them basically doing a bucket list for Lan Zhan and it was very cute! @flamboyantly-asexual​

FOUND! A Curse of a Different Color by nickel710 (G, 35k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Modern with Magic, Modern Cultivation, Curses, Curse Breaking, Asexual polyamory, Repressed LWJ, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Drunk LWJ, Falling In Love, WWX Being an Idiot, Non-explicit vomit, just a tiny reference to it, Anxiety)

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5. Hi! For the fic finder, I vaguely remember reading a summary where lwj turns into a girl and has to have an orgasm in order to get back to being a boy or something along those lines? Sorry, that's the only thing I remember about it but I need it 😭🙏🏼

FOUND! Coming Back to Yourself by acernor (E, 21k, WangXian, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex, Pining, Gender or Sex Swap, Vaginal Sex)

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6. Hi, I'm looking for a fic, large I believe, where a transmigrator was born as Xichen... Any idea which can be @krysaniar​

FOUND? the eve of dawn by theAbandoned_Grimoire (G,132k, LXC & LWJ, LXC & QHJ & LWJ, LQR & QHJ, NHS & NMJ, future wangxian, canon divergence, dumb LXC au, hurt/comfort, angst & feels, fluff, dysfunctional family, happy ending, implied/referenced character death, minor character death, slow burn)

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7. Hello! I’m looking for a fic I read a while back. My memory is a bit vague, so take with a grain of salt. Plot: Lan Wangji is stressed (forgot if it was just stress or if it was autism related) so Wei Wuxian uses his body as a weighted blanket, just laying on top of LWJ. (I think WWX buys him an actual weighted blanket later on but LWJ prefers WWX as a weighted blanket. Also, I think they get together at end of fic, but I’m not sure.) thanks in advance for your help! It’s greatly appreciated! @dweebdaweeb

FOUND? Happy for Now by ScarlettStorm (E, 79k, Female WangXian, Modern AU, no magic, Rule 63, Cisswap, There Was Only One Bed, romance author au, Adhd wwx, service top LWJ, Pining, Smut, Comedy, Minor Angst, major shenanigans, horny yearning, furtive masturbation, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Sex Toys) there was a scene like that in 'Happy for Now' by ScarlettStorm

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8. hi ! i’m looking for a fic set in post canon where i’m pretty sure wangxian we’re tg, they go on a hunt where smth puts everyone to sleep and eventually kills. but rlly the curse tricks you into showing u a horrible nightmare that u think is ur reality so u stay asleep. wei ying sees lan zhan die in front of him and he’s super angry and resentful that lan zhan would leave him, and after the funeral he ends up leaving cloud recesses and suzhui bc he can’t be there without him. eventually he is woken up and finds out it was a dream, but wei ying talks to lan zhan and is like “how did you not resent me i chose to leave you”. i cant find it anywhere !!

FOUND? more damage than a soul should see by Kika988 (M, 12k, WangXian, Heavy Angst, Whump, Post-Canon, Please see notes for specific warnings!)

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9. Hello Mods!

I have two fics I'm looking for, that I have regrettably lost amidst my 53 pages of AO3 subscriptions (yes it is a lot no I will not shrink it I have 20+ fandoms I enjoy I am an unrepentant).

A) 1st is a Golden core reveal fic which also included Wangji telling Wuxian about the marriage ribbon and the two of them serving tea to Jiang Cheng and Yanli after it.

B) 2nd is a modern AU fic where Wuxian is a Hacker? Code writer? for his main job but also is a music teacher I think while Wangji works in hospital? They have a big concert together is what I remember.

Any help finding these two gems is greatly appreciated! (^_^♪)

9B)

FOUND? Come Around and Stay by trippednfell (M, 160k, WangXian, NieLan, Modern AU, Slow Burn, Kid Fic, Found Family, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, PTSD, Blood and Injury, Dissociation, So much trauma, Angst with a Happy Ending, Takes a while to work through it, Musicals, POV Alternating, Baking, Yunmeng reconciliation (eventually), Friend Zoning, Literal Sleeping Together, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks)

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10. I'm looking for a fic where they mention that something that sometimes stops cultivators leaving the sects and going rogue is having to pay the forge prices of their swords. IIRC it was in the context of the Lan sect helping WWX get out from the Jiangs by paying the forge price for him. Please and thank you!

FOUND! Rotten Work by ShanaStoryteller (Not rated, 64k, JL & WWX, wangxian, post-canon, protective WWX, protective JL, JC & WWX reconciliation, reluctant matchmaker JL, pre-JL/LJY) Rotten Work by ShanaStoryteller mentions disciples that leave have to pay to keep their sword, but it's about Luo Qingyang and the Jins

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11. Hi! It has been a while. So there's this ff that I have read before and I cannot remember the title. So it goes like

Wei Ying was going to destroy the Yin Tiger Tally and he knows he's gonna die in process. Jin Ling's 100th day is also coming up so he insists A-Yuan to go there too with someone I cannot remember (but I think it was Song Lan) and he told A-Yuan to find Lan Zhan. I think he also wrote some letters for the people invited there to read. A-Yuan started crying I think and yelling that Gold was bad (he was refering to the Jins because they tortured them on camps before).

Pov to Wen Qing and Wen Ning. They weren't aware that Wei Ying was going to destroy the Yin Tiger. I think Wei Ying told them to buy something or collect something. So while they were out Wei Ying started to destroy the Yin Tiger. Wen Qing senses something was wrong and hurriedly went back to the Burial Mounds. Time skip Wei Ying still dies (?) Wen Qing was trying to revive him until she passes out. Time skip again Lan Zhan Jiang Yanli Jin Zixuan came to the burial mounds, Jin Zixuan got shot by an arrow and was poisoned so Jiang Yanli find Wen Qing and beg at her to save her husband. I don't remember much but at some point they saw Wei Ying's corpse.

Last time I read it, it was still incomplete. I hope you can help me with this. Thank you @hellothere9597​

FOUND? #11 i think its a deleted fic. The title is When I'm Gone by qiankun_pouch . Its fit the description that are mentioned

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12. Hi I'm looking for a fic where Wei ying is obessed with marrying a rich man, so he goes to parties with meng Yao looking for one..Meanwhile Lan Zhan his room mate is rich and hiding it. He detests those who seek money. They have chemistry. But Wei ying never wants to risk being back in poverty. And Lan Zhan he into him a lot but he doesn't want Wei ying to be with him for Money.Wen ning is also a roommate. @imgonnablogtheworldtodeath

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13. Hello!! This is a fic finder request but first I have to let you know that ur all doing gods work and that I appreciate u all sm!!

Ok so im not sure if im doing this correctly but I’m looking for this fic that I lost where lwj almost dies in nightless city saving jyl. Lxc was able to save him by binding their souls together or smth at the last minute and then he hid lwj away in qinghe where he’s basically in a comatose state. Wwx thinks lwj is dead and blames himself and iirc he turns himself in at cr and gets whipped? Also lxc 100% blames wwx for lwj’s near death and pretty much hates him. I also remember that when lwj woke up and wwx saw him he went a little crazy and wouldn’t believe he was real

Again thank you all sm for your hard work!! @kitekichenqin​

FOUND? If I Could Go Back in Time by Runningbarefoot (M, 122k, WangXian, NieLan, Canon Divergence, Role Reversal, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Grief/Mourning, Loss, YLLZ WWX, Eventual Happy Ending, The Twin Jade Brotherhood, Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Dynamics, Slow Burn)

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14. Hello! I am looking for this fic I read a reaaaaally long time ago. The only thing I remember is that wwx died but not really when he was on his way to jin lings one month celebration (ik it's really vague up till here) and wen ning takes him back and then goes to the banquet and talks with the main characters there privately. Thanks in advance! @la-diabla

FOUND? End Racism in the OTW | The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou (E, 66k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Blood, Respiratory Illness, Major Illness, Fever, Grief/Mourning, Burial Mounds, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hunger and food scarcity, Surgery, Fix-It of Sorts)  

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15. During Gusu lectures LWJ and WWX spar and something sparks between them like dual cultivation? I think they were already in a relationship at that point, and during the spar they are giddy with the thrill of the fight and, feeling their energy circling, it gets them horny and they, pardon the crassness, jerk each other off in a hallway after they drag each other off the field. @gloriousclotpole

FOUND! 🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 663k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement)

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16. hellooooo I've been looking for this fic but I can't find it all I remember is Thant lwj goes back in the past after wwx's death (during the cloud recess study arc) and it ends withe a threesome with him wwx and younger lz. also at the end he goes back to the futur to wait for 'his' wwx can you help ????? thanks for all that you do !!!!!✨✨✨✨✨✨

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17. hii i was looking for this wangxian fic where I think they accidentally end up taking care of a-yuan? the only thing i remember from the fic is that around the end social services or cps take a-yuan away from wangxian for a day or two and then they have to go sign some papers before they can have a-yuan back. that's all i remember sorry 😭 i read it a long time ago maybe 2020/2021? I've been looking for it for ages and i can't find it, please help 🥺

FOUND? All those roads are pointing to you by jiejieaini (E, 81k, WangXian, Modern AU, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Drowning, Canonical Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bunnies, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Dubious Consent, Dom/sub Undertones, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, WangXian Have a Breeding Kink, Rimming, Panic Attacks, Anxiety, Marriage Proposal)

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18. Zero idea if you still do this, but Im looking for a certain fanfic which is about lwj and wwx moving together i think because he was kicked out by madam yu, because he outed himself and I remember Lan Xichen being very supportive and even going back to the house to retrieve wwx‘s belongings and ofc lwj and wwx fall in love other the time course

FOUND? Found Family by fyredancer (T, 10k, WangXian, Modern AU, Fluff, Getting Together, POV Outsider, Dysfunctional Family, Coming Out, Bad Parenting, Protective Older Brothers, Protective Siblings)

FOUND? Where is home? by SpicyRamen_10969 (M, 42k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, High School, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Coming Out, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Supportive LQR, Good Sibling LXC, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, JC Being an Asshole, Possible Smut?)

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19. Hello, this is an FicFinder request.

I don't remember much, but it was a rare-pairing of WRH and WWX. I'm not sure if it was a time travel fic. When bunny was 14 or something, a water deity came from the waters of Yunmeng and told him of his powers/potentials. Bunny then was take. To kunlun mountain or smth like that and found out that he controlled the void, darkness, some elements as well. He meditated and became immortal and had lived for more than 200 years in another realm. In Yunmeng, he was still a kid and went to seclusion to complete his meditation or something. He also had a wife/lover in underworld and it was a mix of Greek mythology and others as well. @tinyfoxpeach

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20. I particularly remember that it is a four part series with one fic rewritten. It's basically post burial mounds siege where wwx ascended to immortality, and lwj ascended after his 33 discipline whip punishment. Lwj's injuries were so grave that it carried to his ascension. It's not specified but lwj ends up in wwx's domain and wwx goes batshit after finding out what the lan sect did and confronted them. Mostly fluff and angst. @bananatoffeepie​

FOUND? Deity AU by crypticidentity (M, 5k, wangxian, hurt/comfort, madness, implied/Referenced character death, whipping, angst, protective WWX, BAMF WWX, deity WWX, deity LWJ) check all the tags before reading!

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[blood-grove]

HOLY HELL? JEEZ GUYS I just saw all the notifs im glad you guys like the second part! <3 i wanted to drop some personally headcanons for the au

also if your seeing this my fic is here ! its about retired dads!soapghost and there newly adopted gn!reader

->Soap is hard of hearing! Being a demolitions expert was gonna catch up with him eventually. He used to try and hide it and avoid it altogether but nowadays he's a bit more open about too close family.

His siblings lighthearted tease him about it now since he's comfortable. It isn't totally hearing loss in his ear but its enough to need a hearing aid.

-> Ghost has a bit of a limp in his step now, There not that old but of course after years of fighting something was bound to give ad it did he broke his leg a few months into retirement while working on the roof that he of so stubbornly said he'd fix.

He wasn't comfortable with some stranger visiting there home and or multiple strangers coming to there home he felt like he could do it.

While he could admittedly despite it all he picked up a bit of interest in home fixing mainly the basics he learned even more as they came close to their retirement.

He wanted to be self-sufficient and wanted to be Johnnys' helpful husband.

But he had to fuck it up, Now that he's healed his leg gives him issues here and there but on some days he can get around just fine on others especially during the rain his joints act up.

-> Soap and Ghost have been happily married for 2 years now! Do you know who proposed first? Ghost!. He totally didn't want to pass out and throw up at the same time as he got one shaky knee and palms sweaty as he barely managed to make his words heard under his mask. Soap nearly barreled him down with how much of a mix of emotions he was trying to process as he said 'Yes'.

Ghost had been nervous through the weeks leading up to it, Asking Soap's Mother for her permission, Finding the perfect spot to pop the question.

There wedding was small stuck to Soap's immediate family even so it was pretty big (saving 2 chairs empty) , Of course they invited the rest of the 141 Laswell included inviting them months ahead.

They were able to stay for a while got caught up with each, drank, and just had fun. Simon had never felt so care free.

-> Simon and John of course went through a lot of therapy after retirement, Both of them having their own lucky little bottles of medicine in their shared bathroom. They had thought about adopting or having a kid through surogate.

They decided on adoption because it'd be cheaper plus they weren't sure if they were up to taking care of an infant, They went with adopting a pre-teen just around the age that they wouldn't do something like stick there finger or forks in outlets or burn themselves on the stove.

Soap still put outlet caps on them though.

-> Simon was nervous to be a parent he was just down right terrified that you would dislike him, think hes weird , or worse be afraid of him.

He's not a all a short or slender guy and that hasn't changed after retirement. His resting bitch face and his mask he'd traded his balaclava with a year back. He was sure he didn't look friendly to approach (which he appreciates sometimes) He wanted to look approachable to you.

But it seemed all that worrying was for nothing the first time you both met you asked about Riley albeit hesitantly, He guessed Soap told you about her.

He was open to talking bout her and you were open to listening.

(dsjvahhdadskaj sorry if there ooc </3)

[spider-man-199999]

Hopefully I’m correct that you’re accepting requests since I just read your latest fic and was absolutely OBSESSED with it. Your writing style is absolutely beautiful hence I was hoping to request a fic. Basically something that takes place during NWH where the reader comes through during Strange’s spell because her best friend in her universe was a version of Peter. Except her Peter died during a tragic accident so she hasn’t seen him in a year or so. And while she’s there she ends up accidentally falling in love with the MCU version of Peter. So then they have to figure out how to keep her there instead of sending her home.

Hopefully that makes sense and wasn’t too long! Thank you<3

I’m actually fangirling so hard right now… bestie, you’re one of my favourite Peter Parker writers on here and I’m so overwhelmed by the idea that you like my writing 😭 I’m shaking ass, crying, throwing up, kicking my feet in the air.

pairing: MCU!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader;

word count: 5k

warnings: mentions of sex

A/n: I made the reader “glitch” because she’s in the wrong universe but the glitching isn’t a physical thing that happens to her, I wanted to explore it as a more of a mental issue. She’s experiencing severe memory loss and deja-vu’s simultaneously, which is the primary reason for them to try and fix things. Also in this universe Peter is a single Pringle to make it easier on me plot wise.

505 by Arctic Monkeys was blasting through your headphones while your feet rested on your desk. You were bobbing your head to the beat, playing your imaginary guitar.

"In my imagination, you're waitin' lyin' on your side. With your hands between your thighs" you sang softly to the song, eyes closed. 

You didn't notice the soft sparkles forming next to you as the song continued.

"But I crumble completely when you cry. It seems like once again you've had to greet me with goodbye" you sang at the top of your lungs, when wind blew next to you, bright light finally capturing your attention. 

You turned your head towards the light. There he was, Peter Parker, looking at you from the other side of what looked like a portal. Peter Parker? Your best friend, who died almost a year ago, was looking at you in confusion, in what seemed like a lab, along with some other people around him. The shock was so big that it made you fall backwards with your entire chair flipping. You were too captivated by the sight to even think straight. You thought you had lost him forever, you grieved him. You saw his body in the coffin, you cried your eyes out for months. And now he was standing in front of you. You got up, staring back at him with the same amount of confusion that was written all over his face. The headphones were off of your head now, but the music was still softly playing. You couldn't help it, the second you were convinced this wasn't a dream by pinching yourself, you practically jumped on top of him, hugging him as tightly as you could.  

The portal behind you closed as you sobbed into his chest. Peter held you in his arms, looking at the other Peters for help. 

"What do I do?" he mouthed while he desperately looked at them for help.

"Comfort her, you idiot!" Peter 2 mouthed back. 

Peter 3 was recreating a hug and a pat on the head on an imaginary person, showing him what to do.

"I thought you were dead!" you cried. "No, you were dead! I saw you dead!"

Peter hugged you tighter, his hand patting your head. They all waited for you to calm down. You did, eventually, and finally let go of him. So many questions were running through your head, you didn't even know where to start. How was he alive? Where the hell had he been all this time? Who were these people? You were about to start asking but he beat you to it. 

"I don't want you to freak out." he started, looking at the other Peters for support. They both nodded, like you were about to go apeshit on them any second now. "But I'm not your Peter."

You looked at him confused, then looked over at the other two. All three of them were actually in spidersuits. Now that he mentioned it, he really did not look exactly like the Peter you knew. For the most part, he did, but this version of him in front of you was slightly taller, no more than an inch, his hair was curlier and lighter in color. You looked at the two others next, taking a deep breath. You had been through enough Spider-man shit to know something extremely weird and beyond your comprehension was happening right now. So, you closed your eyes for a moment to take in this new information, exhaling afterwards.

"Okay. Please explain what's going on then." you said as calmly as possible, noticing as the tension from the bodies of all three of them literally evaporated. 

And they went on, explaining the multiverse, the spell, their mission to cure the villains and change their faith. You nodded as you listened, trying to understand as much as you could. The Spider-man world has always been crazy and being his best friend was never easy, things like this used to happen all of the time. It wasn't long before you had your A game on to help all of them with their mission.

----

The more time you spent with Peter 1, the more obvious it was becoming that he wasn't your Peter. Sure, they looked almost identical, which you found a bit weird now that you had seen the other Peters and how they looked nothing like each other. 

Turned out you didn't really exist in the universe you were in now, nothing close to you was present in Peter's life. Your name was unfamiliar, your parents didn't exist either. After a few long conversations, all of you came to the conclusion that you were something like what MJ was to him here.

Back to Peter, he was nothing like the best friend you had before. Most of the time it felt like you were standing in front of a stranger that you knew perfectly. You could finish all of his sentences, you could list all his favourite foods, the Star Wars movies he liked from most to least. You could vividly remember the sound of his heartbeat, you could remember his scent. You knew everything about how his Spider suit worked, you even used to modify the code for your Peter back in the day. You could even guess all of his passwords, which made all of the Peters terrified of you, since somehow you guessed all of them. Four universes apart and the guy somehow still wasn't creative enough to think of something different from "Stromtrooper99".  All of this was overwhelming, to say the least. It made you miss your Peter more than you thought you could. Especially Peter 1. He was making it exceptionally hard for you, conflicting even. You could see your Peter in him, but something more as well. You could never in a million years see your Peter in a light different from being your best friend. But the case wasn't the same with Peter 1. The way he spoke, the way he carried himself, the way he smiled at you and treated you. It made your heart skip a beat. And he knew that. He knew it so well. His spider powers were way more enhanced than what you knew they were, he could physically hear your heartbeat skip when he was near. He could hear how fast it would start beating when he would place a hand on your shoulder, or when he got too close to you. It amused him, this effect he had on you. He knew this whole spell situation was a mess and it was no time to be a hormonal teenager and have crushes left and right but he couldn't help it, neither could you. 

----

The realization of your crush on him hit you one night when you were working with the other Peters on a cure for the Green Goblin. Since your Peter tragically lost his life in a fight with the Green Goblin, it was important to you to prevent that for any other Spider-man you could. Peter 2 was working on something in the lab and Peter 3 was concentrated on something of his own when you walked in. Peter 1 sitting down and playing on his phone. 

"Are the big boys not letting you play with them?" you asked in a baby voice as you placed your jacket down on a chair next to Peter 1. He smiled at you, pausing the Packman game on his phone.

"They said they got it covered." he replied, standing up. 

You looked over at Peter 2, scanned the chemicals around him and looked around the room suspiciously. It felt oddly familiar, like you had already lived through his exact same moment before. Your Peter was dedicated to the mission of the cure as well, he had all of the same ingredients that were laying around here, but his experiment failed badly. Driven by something that you couldn't even explain, you grabbed all of the safety glasses you could get your hands to and started placing them on everyone in the room. There were only the four of you so it wasn't hard. The last one was Peter 2, who was just finishing up his "cure". You put the glasses on his eyes and took a step back before the mixture in his tube exploded all over him, spraying everyone in the room. After the explosion, which everyone took very lightly, all heads turned to you. 

"How did you know?" all three of them asked in sync, putting you under the spotlight. 

"I really don't know-" you said, just as confused as they were. Their spider-sense should have tingled, but it didn't. And somehow you knew when exactly this was going to happen. 

"I think my Peter tried that before, I think it ended like this. I don't remember clearly."

"Did he succeed?" Peter 2 asked 

"He did." 

"Do you think you can remember this formula?"

You nodded. Wiping off the purplish goo that was on your glasses from the mild explosion earlier and stood in front of the table. You placed your hands on it, looking at the chemicals that were in front of you. Peter was the genius one out of the two of you. He was both the brain and the muscle, you were the support system. But when it came to this formula, he just didn't let you not participate for some reason. And he was apparently rightfully doing so, because people needed you now. This situation really brought back painful memories for you, the smell of chemicals, the sounds of sizzling, the colors. This was the last thing you ever did together with your best friend. The last conversation you ever had with him. The last time you saw him smile as he finally succeeded. A ball was forming in your throat as you stirred the mixture, waiting for it to get thick enough. You noticed the tears rolling down your cheeks as the liquidy white mixture in the tube got thicker with every stir. Peter would have been so proud of you if he could see you now, he would have said something stupid like "Okay, show-off, remember I taught you how to do that." with his arms crossed in front of his chest, but in reality he would have been proud of you. It was hard for you to do this without him, you never imagined you'd ever have to. Your hands were shaking lightly when you added the last ingredient, stirring it up until it turned a dark purple color. You placed the tube down, looking up at the worried expressions in front of you. 

"I'm done."

"Okay, show-off." Peter 1 said and smiled at you. 

That was the moment that made you realize that you actually felt something different for him. Most of the time you were really trying to gain your best friend back, you were clinging onto him because he reminded you of your Peter. But he was so much... more. He was the same and yet so different. He was nicer, more considerate, more caring. Your Peter wanted to save the Green Goblin because the person behind the mask was his friend, he wanted his friend back. This Peter wanted to save the Goblin because he believed people could change for good. He believed in the light and goodness of people, in second chances, in selflessly helping others. He believed he could alter the fate of the damned and give them a better future. Your Peter wasn't like that, he could never be like that. 

You brushed the tears from your eyes as he walked over to hug you. The four of you fist-bumped each other and shared a small celebration before you continued to work on other things. 

-----

A gentle kiss on the forehead. That was all it took for you to melt like butter in his arms. He held you tightly, both of you standing alone on a rooftop in the middle of New York. 

"You did so well today." he whispered to you as he held you. "It must have been so hard for you." 

All you could do was nod to his words, hiding your face in his neck while you held back the tears. He knew the story, you had to tell him all about how your best friend died in front of your eyes, killed by the Green Goblin who had lost his mind. How he surrendered just so he could inject the cure in the Green Goblin as he tackled him with his final blow. How it wasn't supposed to end like this, and how it did. Your memories were flashing back in front of your eyes like a horror movie screening, and you just weren't allowed to leave the cinema. Thankfully Peter was there to bail you out the second you were done with recreating the cure. And now he was calmly holding you while you were trying your hardest not to fall apart. 

"Thank you." you mumbled to him, looking up at him.

He smiled encouragingly at you, his hand petting your hair. 

"No, thank you. All of us would have ended up blind if you didn't finish the cure." 

"No, your superhuman healing would have prevented that."

''It doesn't mean it hurts any less.''

"I actually thought it did, I wouldn't survive a building falling on top of me, but you would. Theoretically, if we experience the same amount of pain, how can you push through it and not die? Doesn't make much sense."

"You're totally ruining the script in my head right now..."

"Oh, you had a script? And for what?" you laughed

"Well, you were supposed to ask me "Does it hurt now?" and I was going to say "The only thing that hurts right now is my lips because they're not kissing yours" and then we were going to kiss and fall in love and-"

"Does it hurt right now?" you interrupted him, your heart beating so loud in your chest that you weren't sure you heard his script to begin with.

"What?"

"Does it hurt... now?" you asked, even more anxious this time, almost convinced you actually got it wrong. He made an oh sound, nodding his head.

"The only thing that hurts right now is my lips because they're not kissing yours" he replied, leaning in closer to you and placing his lips gently on yours.

You stopped breathing for a second before kissing him back. It felt wonderful, magical even, the gentle movement of his soft lips on yours, his hot breath on your skin. His hands were on your arms, stroking them for comfort while your hands were on his back, holding him. You never thought you could enjoy a kiss as much as you did this one. It was almost painful when it ended. He smiled at you, pulling you in the tightest hug he had ever given you afterwards.

-------

Peter just had to brag about this to the others. He told everyone how in love he was with you. He felt so unbelievably proud not only for pulling a girl way out of his league, but having what he calls "ïnterdimentional rizz". You stopped counting the eyerolls after they got to 30. Of course you found it cute how he was so happy and excited about the two of you kissing, but this was raising so many questions. You felt like you wanted to enjoy it but you really couldn't, your mind was constantly jumping to different thoughts about you eventually going back to your own dimension. You kept having deja-vus all of the time, and some things seemed like they were slipping your mind . 

You tried ignoring it the best you could, but it got to a point where it couldn't really be ignored anymore. 

All of you were finishing up on the action plan on how to cure everyone. The whole group was in the lab, discussing it. You were sitting on the table, Peter standing between your legs, his back pressed to your chest. You had rested your head on his shoulder while all of them talked.

"Don't the two of you think it's kind of weird to be having this conversation in this position?" Peter 3 asked, looking at the two of you. 

"It's not like I haven't been between her legs before" Peter joked, making you look at him confused.

"No, you haven't."

He looked back at you, just as confused.

"Well I did fuck you hard enough to make forget your own name last night but forgetting the whole thing? That’s some next level fucking" he continued joking. 

You didn't really get the joke but still laughed. 

"Pete, what are you talking about? I wasn't with you last night, I was helping Ned here to modify your Spidersuit ai" you shook your head with a smile.

"Y/N, that was 3 days ago." Ned said.

"Wait so you actually don't remember us doing it?" Peter moved from his position, turning around to face you. He looked devastated and upset, slightly worried too. 

"I- " you managed to say but stopped, looking down at your feet. You didn't know what to say to make things better, he was probably feeling terrible about this already, you felt like you were the villain for not remembering the last 3 days of your life.

You didn't remember your first time with Peter. How much worse could it get?

"She's glitching." Dr. Strange said, looking at you from the back of the room. "You can tell the future too, can't you?"

You nodded, looking over at him. This meeting was the first time you have ever met the wizard and he scared you. He was very cranky and looked annoyed all of the time. He rarely spoke, unless he wanted to argue with someone. Strange walked over to Peter, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

"We need to wrap this thing up and get everyone back to their home." He told him. 

"What? No, no, we can't just send her back!"

"We have to, she's already glitching, the longer she stays here, the worse it will get." 

You looked over at Peter, tears welling up in his eyes. He looked at you too, helpless and desperate. He immediately hugged you, kissing your forehead. 

"I'm going to figure this out, I promise." he whispered in your ear.

You hugged him tightly, kissing his shoulder. 

"I want you to not die tonight, promise me that, we'll figure out the rest."

"I'm not going anywhere."

----

The fight was finally over. Everyone was beat up and hurt, but it was over. Everything that could go wrong, went wrong. Thankfully no one died. Biggest mistake being the portal that Ned opened up not closing. You knew it was going to happen because of your glitching and tried to handle the situation as best as possible. Fighting a giant lizard with bare hands wasn’t the best idea, but there wasn’t much you could really do anyway. Peter came to the rescue, thankfully. After everything died down and all of you were left in the ruins of battle, you felt like you could finally breathe again. Peter hugged you, his blood getting all over your clothes. You cried into his chest. He kept his promise, he didn’t die in the fight. His lips kissed your forehead, brushing your tears from your eyes. 

“Are you hurt?” he asked, letting go of you. His hands were holding your shoulders as he lowered himself to be on your eye level.

He looked you up and down, making sure you really weren’t hurt. You were shaking your head “no” while he did that. 

Strange was finishing up the spell, which meant you were about to go home soon. 

“Pete..” you started, looking around as the portals started opening up around you. 

“No, don’t say it.” he interrupted you, tears welling up in his eyes.

Your heart was breaking from seeing him so torn up. You put your hands on his cheeks, cupping his face, placing a soft peck on his lips. 

“We’ll find a way.” you mumbled, your foreheads pressed against one another. He nodded, hugging you tightly again. 

“We have to, you don’t remember us having sex! We have to do it again!”

The two of you laughed, sharing a sweet kiss after that. A portal leading to your bedroom opened up close to the both of you. You saw your desk, the chair that had fallen over all this time ago. The two of you looked at it. 

“I’ll see you on the other side, Spider-man.” you told him with a smile, letting go of the hug so you could step into your room again. You held onto his hand for as long as you could, looking back at him.

He looked so broken and scared, the tears were rolling down his cheek, his hair was a mess, his costume was ruined and covered in blood and dirt. You fought back the tears yourself, smiling the whole time. A smile that was meant to comfort him and encourage him, to tell him that everything is going to be okay. You stepped into the portal, finally letting go of his hand as the portal was no longer big enough for your hands to be through it. And he was gone. With the snap of a finger, he was gone. You dropped on your knees, finally allowing yourself to cry as the realization hit you, you had lost Peter Parker not once, but twice in the span of a year. 

---

You took off the glasses as you finally finished the spider-shaped gadget you were assembling. It was a new type of spider suit that you were developing in your free time. 

After you had to go back to your own reality, you decided to pay Peter’s grave a visit. You sat there for hours, telling him everything about your multiverse adventure with the other Peters. You were sure he was turning in his grave because of how cool this story was and how he didn’t get to be a part of it. Weeks passed by and it was time to move on with your normal life, but you just couldn’t. So, you decided to major in quantum physics and spent every waking hour on studying and theorizing about the multiverse. If magic could make interdimensional travel real, then sciency could too. And since your reality had a living Tony Stark, you actually caught his attention with some science work of yours that got published. You were so dedicated to your studies that in the few months you spent on your research, you managed to have a breakthrough big enough to change the course of the science field altogether. Your secret was that you actually did already travel into another dimension, you just had to figure out the math. 

Tony was so impressed by your work and your genius that he actually offered you a job. You accepted, he had enough resources to fund your projects and actually help you with opening up a portal. And now you were stuck in the Avengers compound, developing a new spider suit. You took one of the old unfinished suits your Peter had, doing the final work on it. The suit used inflatable technology and you had to put the metal spider in the center of your chest and press it, after that the suit would just wrap around your body perfectly. It was mostly made of fabric, but it had a bulletproof shield that would activate if the built-in ai detected any kind of danger. It was lightweight so that it wouldn’t stop Spider-man from his acrobatic moves or slow him down in any way. Once you were done with the suit, it was game on. Why were you developing a spider suit? To send to Peter. With all of the Stark money, you were actually able to build a device that theoretically could open portals to other dimensions. After a few calculations were made, you thought you found the exact coordinates to the dimension you wanted to see. Since experimenting with animals and humans was cruel in your mind, you were just going to open a portal, throw the spider suit in and pray that you got the right Peter. 

The device you developed looked like a bracelet. It was chunkier than you wanted it to but the parts were too big to make it look elegant. In reality it probably looked more like a smartwatch than a bracelet. You typed in the coordinates on the touchscreen and prayed that it would work. The device buzzed softly on your wrist, lasers coming out from the side and drew a circle next to you, opening a portal. You took a deep breath as you stared at the room that was in front of you. It was small, untidy, and looked nothing like Peter’s old room. Was that his dorm? Or his new apartment? Did you mix the coordinates up? There was no one there, just an empty room staring back at you. You looked around it, analyzing the scene in front. A pile of dirty clothes in the corner, flannels and sweaters. Looked like Peter’s style. A picture of May was on the desk, next to some bottles of web fluid. Bingo. It really looked like it was the place he was currently at. You took the metal spider that was sitting on the table and a sticky note. 

“I’ll make it back to you. Have fun with this gift, can’t wait to hear back from you :) - Y\N”

You stuck the note to the metal spider and tossed it on the desk next to his web fluids without touching the portal. The suit seemed to have made it through with no problems. Good. Amazing even. One step closer to seeing him.

----

Peter tossed his backpack on the bed as he walked into his room. He took the flannel off too, throwing himself face first and hiding his face in the pillow. He was tired, so tired, and alone. Deciding to go to uni didn’t seem like the brightest idea now that he was alone and broke. Working, studying and being Spider-man on top of that, was draining all of his energy. He turned his head to the side, looking at the mess on the desk as something shiny caught his eye. He lifted his upper body up, looking closer at the thing. It had a note stuck to it. Did someone break in? He walked over to the desk, reading the note.

“I’ll make it back to you. Have fun with this gift, can’t wait to hear back from you :) -Y\N”

Underneath the note was the Spider-man logo made out of metal. He looked closer at it, turning it around, feeling the weight of it in his hands. What was that? He was confused, so confused. How did you even manage to send this thing to him? He put it on his chest, looking at himself in the mirror. The thing stuck to his chest and started glowing on the sides. He looked at it, pressing it gently with his finger. The spider suit that you made wrapped perfectly around him in the matter of seconds. 

“Wooow.” he said as he looked at himself in the mirror. 

The ai immediately turned on. 

“Initiating “Welcome” protocol.” It spoke in his ear, playing a video on his built-in vr glasses. 

It was a video of you that played.  

“Hi Pete.” you said with a smile. 

“Omg, Hi! Hey, how? ”

“Before you start trying to have a conversation with me, this is a prerecorded video. I can’t hear you.”

“Right.”

“So, if you’re seeing this, that means that this thing worked!” you showed your wrist to the camera, letting him see the device on it. “This is an interdimensional portal opener. I’m still working on the name. It’s in early testing, I’m not sure it’s safe to go through the portals it creates yet, that’s why I sent this suit as a test. It has a turn-on system that is supposed to alert me when the suit is working. If I get the signal, I’ll try to open up a new portal so we can try to talk. I’ll see you soon.”

The video ended, leaving Peter speechless. He was so amazed that you managed to do all of this, to create this suit and send it through the multiverse to him. You weren’t joking when you said you would find a way. He had never felt more in love with you than he did at this moment.

“Okay, let’s check this baby out while we wait then.”

“Initiating “test” protocol.”

---

The device on your wrist started buzzing, making you look at it. The image of the spider-man logo appeared on the screen, which meant that the suit was turned on. When the screen finally loaded, you could see Peter’s stats on the screen. You could monitor his heartbeat, his blood oxygen, his blood pressure. Everything seemed normal. You hooked the device to your laptop, getting a better view of the statistics you were getting. You could even log into the camera and see what he was seeing in real time. So it worked. You could see him swinging around the city. 

“Oh Pete.” your vision getting blurry from the tears. You made it. Somehow you really managed to make it. 

You picked your phone up, dialing Tony. 

“It worked.” you sobbed as soon as you heard his voice on the other side. 

“I’ll be right there.” 

10 minutes later Tony walked in the lab, rushing to you. He looked at the screen, seeing that Peter was now sat on the edge of a tower, swinging his legs in the air. The two of you hugged in celebration. 

“Did you try contacting him?” 

“No, not yet, I think I’ll wait for him to get home.”

“Okay, but no sex on the first date!”

“I’m not going through the portal yet, I’m not sure it’s safe.”

“Good, have fun just talking.”

Not long after Tony left, Peter was back at his small messy apartment. You put in the coordinates again, waiting for him to turn the suit off before you opened the portal. 

You finally saw him, standing in the middle of his room with the metal spider in his hand. He looked a bit startled when the portal opened up, smiling as he saw you standing on the other side. He walked up closer. All he wanted was to hug you. 

“No, no, no, no, stop!” you said. He froze on the spot. “You can’t go through yet, I’m not sure it’s safe.”

“But… the suit?”

“The suit isn’t a living organism.”

“I’m willing to risk it.”

“I’m not. I’ll close the portal before you even try!”

“Okay then what is the point of opening it then?”

“I’m still running stability tests, here.” You tossed a second device for him. He caught it, looking at it before he put it on his wrist. “I’ll send the coordinates to my dimension in a few days to see if you can open a portal too.”

“Why not just test that now?”

“I said I’m still running tests Pete! Wait just a little longer!”

----

A few weeks later you were finally ready to actually go through the portal. You didn’t know if you should alert him first or just go for it and surprise him. The surprise sounded way better. You opened up a portal to his room. It was 2 pm, he wasn’t home yet. You went through the portal and closed it behind you, looking around his room. It was so odd to be there again, yet it made you so happy. You were smiling the whole time while you looked around. It felt a bit invasive, plus you hadn’t spoken to him the last few days, but you didn’t really have a plan here. You just wanted to be with him as soon as possible. You sat on the bed, checking the watch to see if he was using the suit. He wasn’t, which meant you had no way of tracking where he was or what he was doing. You didn’t really have to wait long, the door unlocked around 30 minutes later, a very tired Peter walking in the room. You smiled so wide it was actually hurting you. He tossed his backpack towards the bed, practically throwing it at you and knocking you back. Now it really did hurt, not only from the smiling. 

“Ouch.” you said. 

Peter finally looked at you, making  two big steps towards you and taking the backpack off.

“I’m so sorry.” 

You were laying on your back, looking at him. 

“Surprise?” you said, getting up on your elbows. 

He wasn’t really sure how to react to this, he wanted to hug you but laying on top of you was potentially going to crush you, so it wasn’t an option. He grabbed your hand and pulled you up on your feet, hugging you. It seemed like you weighed nothing to him, he did it so effortlessly. You hugged him back, trying to remember as much as you could from this moment. 

“I can’t believe you’re finally here.”

“Me neither, all it took of me was to become one of the most respected physicists in the world and joining the Avengers.” 

“I’m glad you did, I really am.”

You looked up at him, holding his face. 

“Did you grow? You seem taller.”

“I don’t think I did.”

“Doesn’t matter.” 

You got on your tiptoes and pulled him in, crashing your lips on his. He held your waist, pulling you closer. You opened your mouth, letting him slide his tongue in. You were running your hands all over his body, his chest, his arms, his back. He moved the two of you towards the bed, sitting down and pulling you on top of him. His hands moved to your but, squeezing it slightly.

“Maybe you should remind me about the first time this happened.” you mumbled against his lips.

He smiled, pressing a kiss on your forehead. 

“Oh, I’ll make sure you remember this one!”

[ananxiousgenz]

TPP HADESTOWN AU PART 4

ANOTHA ONE. i am so sorry guys, but the muse has possessed me and i literally cannot stop writing. this is no longer a flash fic. i am now a slave to the au. this time will be a direct continuation of part 3 because honestly i wanted to keep writing that but i also just wanted to post it so consider this a kind of part 2 to part 3 if that makes sense

tpp mutuals come get your juice!!! @smidgen-of-hotboy @ceaseless-watchers-special-girl @urjover @one-joe-spoopy @waters-and-the-wilde

when he said his name, juno heard it.

ringing in the background like the hum of a crystal wine glass.

the song.

when peter nureyev said his name, the song echoed with it.

"your name has the same melody," juno breathed, eye wide and searching for some kind of answers on the face of this strange, beautiful man. how could his name have the song of spring laced through it?

nureyev shot him a sideways look and took a sip of his drink. "so. what do you do for a living, lady who's going to marry me?" he questioned, leaning back in his chair and looking juno over with a gaze he could only describe as skeptical.

"oh! well, I work here at the bar with rita. she's over there. but you've met her already so I don't know why I'm introducing her."

rita gave a friendly wave from her perch behind the bar.

"I also, um. I, uh. I sing. sometimes. not all the time. i'm not bad at it. typically when I do sing, someone will give me a couple bucks. it's nice. oh, and uh, I can play guitar too, but I haven't done it in years, and to be honest, I don't really want to-"

nureyev cut juno off, looking away disinterestedly and downing the rest of his drink. "that's nice. so you're like all the other bar workers in existence. that doesn't exactly sound like something I'd want to marry."

suddenly, the butterflies that had been gradually building in juno's stomach began to unexpectedly drop dead.

"heyyyyyyy, that's not very nice, mista nureyev. mista steel isn't like all the otha ladies you eva met! he's a very supa awesome lady who I love workin' with and-oh oh oh! mista steel! you GOTTA tell him about that song you're workin' on! it's so pretty! and important! I'm sure mista nureyev would LOVE to hear about that!" rita cried, bounding off the bar and hustling over to deliver another drink to the table.

"oh, uh, yeah! I'm working on this song to bring spring back again," juno said, feeling mildly embarrassed that rita brought it up with this man who was still basically a total stranger. "it's not done, honestly, it needs a lot of work. but, when i'm finished with it, it will hopefully fix.....everything."

"wait just a moment." nureyev's brow furrowed and juno's stomach twisted at the sight. even when he was skeptical and defensive and bone-tired, he was still so damn attractive. gods, what juno wouldn't give to just kiss him right now- focus, steel, he's trying to talk to you-

"so you say this song will bring spring back again?"

"yup! at least it should."

"that's...." nureyev placed a finger over his lips in thought. "I haven't seen a proper spring in at least a decade, maybe more. the world has been so wrong in recent years... I shudder to think where it would all end up without the return of warmer weather."

"well, that's the idea with the song. I want to fix it. all of it. when the song is done it should put the world back on track. more sunshine, springs, falls, rain and flowers. you know. all the stuff that's just sort of been missing. maybe you could help me out with it!" juno grinned a bit sheepishly.

"and why would I want to help?" his eyes were cold, almost as cold as the biting wind and frost outside, but juno thought he saw the beginning of a thaw at the edges of his facade.

"because, mista nureyev. he's real good at makin' people feel like life is worth livin' again with that music of his. also, he makes the BEST chocolate cake i've eva had! and frannie agrees with me!" rita chimed in, cleaning the bar top as best she could with her short stature.

juno snorted involuntarily, marveling at rita's ability to constantly be focused on food. "it's true, I won a local competition a few years back for that cake."

nureyev's face had half a smile on it now, and the butterflies in juno's stomach turned into a hurricane.

"so you can make people feel alive again? that's quite a gift, juno. but what else can you offer me?"

"huh?"

"say, for example, if we were to get married. who would pay for the wedding rings? times have been hard, and gold is scarce. how would you do it?"

juno thought for a moment. "the rivers. they've got plenty of gold in them, and if my song works, they'll give it all to us for wedding rings."

nureyev's eyes glinted with something juno suspected was either curiosity or suspicion.

"what about a wedding feast? or a bed? good food and better beds are hard to come by these days. what would you do about that, juno?"

"the trees would take care of the wedding feast, and the birds would take care of the bed."

"with your song." nureyev cocked an eyebrow as though it was a question.

"well, yeah, of course."

"you talk a lot about that song. why don't you sing it for me?"

a wave of panic stuttered through juno's mind. "I can't. I told you it's not finished."

"you said you wanted to take me home and marry me, is that true?

a sly smile crossed nureyev's face, and goddammit it only made juno want him even more. "yes," he breathed.

"then sing the song for me, juno."

juno hesitated, then nodded in spite of himself. he shouldn't be doing this, he knew he shouldn't be doing this, but he couldn't help it.

he was in love.

and lovers need the spring like a flower needs sunshine. so he'd sing the sunshine back for peter nureyev.

he stepped back, breathed in, and let the notes flow from him like water from a faucet. the song flooded the room, hitting the walls and rushing back to his ears in perfect harmonies, and for a moment, he was back in that wheat field with benten, strumming guitar as he danced like a pheonix rising from the ashes, spinning around and around and around like he was the center of the universe.

and then the song ended. and juno was back in a shitty roadside bar, holding a perfect dahlia in his left hand, with peter nureyev staring at him now, eyes wide and sparkling.

"that's...... you...... how did you do that?" nureyev asked quietly, standing from the table on unsteady legs and taking the dahlia to examine it with shaking hands.

"i didn't do that, the song did," juno muttered as nureyev gently touched the immaculate petals of the dahlia, still damp with dew. rita beamed at juno from the bar and gave an overenthusiastic thumbs-up. juno just rolled his eyes again.

peter nureyev looked at him then, all of the previous frostiness gone from his eyes and something like amazement and love and hope spilling through them.

juno decided that he liked it when he looked like that. it made him feel like he really could fix the whole damn world with that song of his.

nureyev seemed to come to some sort of conclusion and slipped the dahlia into the buttonhole of his traveling coat. "so, what time does your shift end, my dear juno?"

juno thought for a minute. "uhhhh, the bar closes around 10. why?"

his eyes gleamed like a pair of stars as a smile twinkled on his lips. "didn't you say you were going to marry me?"