#preview for fic by posting all of ch 1

[simpstantruther]

Hungry Heart ch. 1 | (Mullet) Stanley Pines x Reader

(Sorry, should have posted it this way the first time. First time posting fanfiction to tumblr).

Summary: Stan needs to go to Oregon. You need to get to California. Stan has a car. You have a cunt. (Can I make it any more obvious~)

Tags: 80s Americana Roadtrip Partners-in-Crime Stan x Reader fic. Smut. You can fix him, but you're worse.

TW: Alcohol Use

Preview:

His voice gets surprisingly soft. “Can I take you home?”

“You kiddin’ me?” You spit out the ruined lime slice. ”I thought you were a bum. What home you gonna take me to? Lovely spot under a bridge?"

“I got a motel room.” He adds defensively. “It’s somethin’.”

Read on AO3.

Your arms stick to the bar top. It’s sticky enough on its own. It smells like fruit cocktail and jaeger and all the other sickly sweet mixings that bar tops get coated in, with a lovely note of pissy beer over it all.

But it’s sweltering, even with the door kicked out and the flies starting to buzz inside. There’s a sheen of sweat over all your bare skin, sticking your thighs uncomfortably to your wooden stool. Your jean shorts are too short, and the high waist is digging into your ribs. 

You hate Dallas.

Stupid bartender cut you off two songs ago.

You hate this stupid bar, too.

You weren’t drunk. Not really. Just buzzed enough to tell him to shove a broken bottle up his ass when he snapped your bra strap from across the bar.

But he let you sit at the bar anyways. He was sweet like that. You feel pitiable, alone like this. Maybe he can tell. Maybe he hopes that if he lets you stay and no one else picks up the slack, you’ll let him take you home.

You’re not drunk enough for that. And you can afford to be choosey. Daddy always said you were a pretty girl. He told you to kill yourself before you weren't, but that was besides the point. 

You look at the stained mirror backing the bar. Dark circles under your eyes. Your hair is a mess. Your eyeliner is from three days ago, a dark stain under your bottom eyelashes. You're young, but you don't want to guess how much longer you'll have left by dear old dad's measure. Not the way you're living.  

You're not drunk, you're just reminiscing. 

“Got a wife and kids in Baltimore jack—“

You snap over to the juke box, playing the same fucking song again for the fifth time. Some mulleted asshole with sweat and beer stains over his white t-shirt croons along poorly, drunkenly leaning against the wall beside it.

“I go for a drive and never come back—“

“Not a-fucking-gain.” You groan, head in your hands. 

“What? Who’s got a problem with Springsteen?” He barks. The mellow rock continues without him.

You don’t turn. You’re not drunk, just a little on edge from the heat. You slide off your stool painfully and stumble. And okay, you’re drunker than you realize.

You point an accusing finger at the blurry man who stomps toward you. 

“If I wanted to hear someone butcher Bruce Springsteen songs, I’d toss quarters at the poor bastard with the chipped cup outside. At least he knows the god damn lyrics—“ 

You blink as he comes into focus. 

Dammit. 

He was cute, in a bring-me-home-and-disappoint-your-parents kind of way. Or if Kurt Russel had like, a really bad year. Square jaw. Scruffy chin. Bulbous nose, broken at least a few times. Baby beer gut. Big, broad shoulders. Narrow hips. God. Was he wearing fucking football gear or something? 

His lips stay parted like the mouth-breather he is. He looks you over too. Your loose tank top has a fallen strap, the hem hangs low over your chest. With your arms crossed, your tits look better than they are. His eyes fall to the bit of lace on your bra peeking out. It’s fine. That’s what it’s there for. 

You swallow thickly, feeling sweat crawl down your neck. 

“You played the same song five times in a row. Don’t you know the fuckin’ lyrics by now?” You mutter quietly, just enough to make him lean in and listen.

You feel his hot breath against your ear, trying to talk over the music. It smells like tequila and cheap cigarettes.

“You wanna teach it to me, Sweetheart?” 

You huff with amusement. A jersey dirtbag just like you, so far from home? What are the odds. 

He stands over you.

You imagine your thighs around his big dopey ears for a second, but the idea of his stubble tearing up your already irritated inner thighs feels unappetizing.

“Nah. Learn it yourself.” You turn. His meaty hand grabs your arm. 

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“I don’t know.” You tilt your head. “Can you?” It’s a genuine question. You both glance at the bartender who curls his lip.

“Hermano! One for the lady, por favor!”

Surprisingly, the bartender nods. You both cling to the bar, like the railing of a ship tipping over.

“He’s Italian.” You mutter under your breath, watching the bartender mix you another vodka-soda.

“Huh?” He leans his elbow on the bar beside you, his other hand coming around your other side. He’s like a furnace. You are sweating out his beer through osmosis. 

You nod to the flag hung behind the bartender and fan yourself with a damp coaster.

“It’s an Italian flag. The Mexican one has an eagle.”

“I know. I did time in Mexico.” He says it like he’s proud. Like you should care. Stupid cute smug grin. 

“Small world!” You turn towards him.

“Gettin’ smaller.” He looks amused and he coils a strand of your hair around his finger, now leaning his arm on your shoulder. “You serious? You got locked up there?”

“No.” You say, deadpanned. He laughs. You feel it, tucked against his chest.

“You’re funny.” 

“And you’re just an asshole.” You say as you sip your drink, faster than you should. 

He shrugs one shoulder dismissively. “So, you from Jersey?” He asks, knocking back a shot of tequila with only a grimace. “You sound like my Ma.”

“Born and raised. You?”

“Born and raised. Small world. Why’d you ever leave Jersey?”

“To leave Jersey. ”

He sucks his teeth. “Ain’t you got a family or somethin’?” 

“What, are you gonna kidnap me?” He laughs again. His laugh is stupid, loud, makes you wanna laugh with him. Maybe just at him. You shrug. “Followin’ my old man out west.”

“New family?”

“New everything.”

“Lucky guy. It’s harder than it sounds, starting a new life.” He sighs bitterly, nodding as the bartender refills his shooter. “Some fuckers have all the luck.” 

You hold your glass out to him. You long since drained it of alcohol, but the ice remains. You suck on one melting cube in your cheek and crunch it between your teeth. “To the unlucky bastards, then.” 

He tuts his tongue and takes the empty glass from your hand, replacing it with another shooter.

“That’s better. To the unlucky bastards.” 

You hate tequila. 

But you love free liquor.

“Salud.” You wince as it burns down your throat, shutting your eyes tightly for a moment before you open to see him watch you with his elbow on the bar top.

“Love seein’ a beautiful chick knockin’ back tequila like a champ.” He smirks.

“Love it from a distance. You’re in the splash zone.” You groan, setting back down the glass and snagging a lime from behind the bar to suck against your teeth. 

“I don’t scare easy.” 

You narrow your eyes. “You want me to yak on you?”

“If you would do me the honors.” He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t lose his easy smile.

You smirk briefly. “Freak.” 

“I get that a lot.” The smile loosens. Just a bit. He swallows and you watch his adam’s apple bob. His voice gets surprisingly soft.

“Can I take you home?”

“You kiddin’ me?” You spit out the ruined lime slice. ”I thought you were a bum. What home you gonna take me to? Lovely spot under a bridge?"

“I got a motel room.” He adds defensively. “It’s somethin’.”

“Livin’ large.” You draw out the vowels condescendingly. As if you’re any better. “You ain’t worried I’ll rob you blind in the night, big shot?”

“Don’t got much. And if you can sneak it past me, I figure you deserve it.”

You look over him again.

You consider it, you really do. He could have been worse. You’ve had worse. Half the nights you spent on your way west were spent banging for room and board. Or at least picking guys drunk and rich enough to pay for the taxi home and pass out before they remembered to touch you. 

You should be dead. A dozen times, you wished you were. Easily, you could have been. And no one would go looking for you.

You have a feeling he understands what that’s like. Poor bastard.

But tonight, you paid for a room. And for the love of God, clean(ish) beds to yourself were in short supply. The T.V. in your room was busted and the liquor store was closed. You came here for the lovely conversation.

“Sorry. Not tonight, buddy.” You avert your eyes. “But thanks for the drinks.”

He frowns and nods, not happy with the rejection clearly but respectful enough to accept it anyways.

“Well, I’m in town a couple more days. If you need somethin’, give me a call, okay sweetheart?”

He fishes out a business card from his front jean pocket. It’s wrinkled and damp with sweat. 

The Loveshack the card says.

You pick up the card and turn it on both sides. 

“Cute.”

“I’m in room eight.” He eyes the card nervously. “Or ask for Lee.”

“Lee.” You repeat. “Thanks, Lee.” You hold your hand out to shake and give him a fake name. He holds your hand and your eyes. 

“I mean it. Give me a call.” He pleads.

You huff with mirth, sticking the card in your pocket. You haven’t heard a boy beg for a call like that since highschool.

“Alright, alright.” You slide off your barstool again, slightly more graceful than the first time. 

“Goodnight, Lee.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

“Stupid.” You smirk at eachother as you step back towards the exit. You know he’s waiting for you to turn so he can stare at your ass.

Bruce Springsteen croons you out as you leave the bar. You hear Lee belting along. 

“Everybody’s got a hungry heart. Everybody’s got a hungry heart.”

[burntheedges-updates]

over again, chapter 3: dinner

This is my updates-only blog! Follow me at @burntheedges Joel Miller x f!reader summary: you fell in love with Joel Miller in Austin, Texas, in 2001, but you thought you lost him and your whole family in 2003 when the world turned upside down. now it's 2024, and you find the surprise of your life waiting for you in Jackson, Wyoming. or, five times you and Joel fell deeper in love, on both sides of the apocalypse (and one time you did something about it) 18+ minors DNI chapter tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, banter, angst, bisexual!reader (like me), dancing, holding hands, a bit of pining, kissing (!!!) (the smut is coming so soon, y’all) a/n: Welcome to chapter 3! We’re finally getting somewhere with these two… and there’s a bit of dancing. The Austin section of this chapter was the preview I posted a few weeks back, but it's been edited a bit. music note: All songs mentioned in this fic are on the playlist. The first 19 songs on the playlist are the mix CD mentioned in this chapter. The playlist post has annotations about the first 19 songs with mild spoilers, so skip reading those for now if you’d rather wait. I was a teenager in 2000 and I grew up in the south (and lived in Texas for a bit, later), so I was aiming for songs I would have heard on the radio and songs the reader and Joel definitely would have heard on the radio and when they went out dancing. word count: 8.2k

series main post | series playlist | ao3 | ch 1 | ch 2

Chapter 3: Dinner

Jackson, Spring 2024 

Despite your agreement in his kitchen, you don’t talk to Joel the next day, or even the one after that, except in passing. He’s still taking care of Ellie, and you end up staying in the stables overnight to help with the birth of a foal. (You try to imagine yourself from Before doing anything like that, but it’s impossible.) At least you’re able to sleep again, after that. You’re too tired not to. 

It’s been three days when Joel catches you outside around dinner time and asks if he can walk with you, as he’s planning to pick some dinner up for Ellie. She’s feeling better, apparently, but not up for the dining hall quite yet. You remember being wary of it yourself when you first arrived, so you don’t blame her.

Joel falls into step beside you, in silence at first. The air between you is more comfortable than it was three days ago — it feels easier to walk next to him, less fraught to look at him. You imagine touching his hand again and it seems possible. You were exhausted then, it’s true, but it was also overwhelming to be around him like that after so long. Now you’re a little more used to the idea. 

You use the quiet moment to look him over, checking the outline of his shoulders, his hips, his gait against the Joel in your memory. He’s grayer now of course, but so are you. He’s the same shape but somehow even broader than Before — same Joel, just stronger, and hardier, and more weathered. You can see a hint of discomfort in his walk, but you all have that these days. The sign of a person who has to walk everywhere. It wears at your joints. 

You don’t notice how long you’ve been checking him out in silence until your gaze wanders back to his face and you find him smirking at you, knowingly. 

“See something you like, darlin’?” You feel a rush of warmth towards your face, but you’re not really embarrassed. 

“Maybe I do, neighbor.” You tilt your head at him and smile a bit. “Same as always.”

He shakes his head and works his jaw to hide a wider smile. “I’m pretty sure we’ve said that to each other before.”

“Yeah, I think we did. That night we had dinner at your place after Sarah was sick.” It’s easier to recall things like that, now that you’ve let yourself start. It’s like the memories were just waiting for you to acknowledge them and now they’re all pouring out. 

He tenses a little when you say Sarah’s name, making you wonder if you shouldn’t have. But she was yours too, and you can’t let go of that. You never have and you won’t start now. Not even for Joel. 

He looks away and then back at you, seeming to shake it off and moving a little closer to nudge your shoulder. “You still remember what I taught you? Pretty sure we had our first lesson that night.” He winks, the old flirt. You laugh. 

“Joel, I haven’t danced with anyone since the last time I danced with you. I can’t promise I even remember the steps.”

He pauses, slows to a stop, and turns towards you fully. “Maybe we should give it another shot, see if, um,” he clears his throat. “See if we still partner so well.” You meet his eyes, and you see he’s feeling the same things you are – hesitation, hope, maybe a little fear. Maybe a lot. 

That feeling that’s been pulling at you – that second chance you’ve been thinking about for months – becomes almost tangible in the air between you as he speaks. It makes you feel brave.

You step a little bit closer and reach out to slide your hand into his. He closes his eyes, just for a moment, and you hear his breath hitch.

“Tommy always did say we could light up a dance floor.” You look down at your hands and decide to go for it, too. “I’d like to see if we can, still.” You’re talking about more than dancing, and you both know it. “But I know Ellie comes first, and I don’t want to rush into anything and mess it up. I missed you,” you see he’s formed a shaky fist with his free hand, while the hand holding your own is relaxed and warm. “But we’ve done a lot of living without each other.” 

You look back up at him, hesitantly. You don’t want to push for too much, too fast. You have no idea what fast or slow mean for the two of you anymore. 

Joel nods, twining his fingers through your own and squeezing gently. “We have. But even now I’d never have doubted you’d understand about Ellie. You’re a great mom.” 

He uses present tense, which makes you suck in a sharp breath. You feel it again, that echo from the past. It still hurts. Maybe it’s like building muscle and it’ll fade the more you let yourself feel it. 

“She doesn’t know you, of course, and she’s wary of strangers. And we need to get to know each other now. But we can take it slow.” He smiles at you, a bit sadly, and squeezes your hand again. 

“Slow is fine with me, cowboy.”

He looks surprised, and then huffs out a short laugh. “No one’s called me that in 20 years.”

“No one’s called me darlin’, either.” For a moment, you just lock eyes and take each other in.

“Do you want to come over for dinner soon? Maybe next week, I want to try to get Ellie to leave the house first.” He looks hopeful, but also still hesitant.

“I’d like that, Joel. And I’m happy to wait until she’s ready. I’m still getting used to these- um, these feelings, myself.” He nods, and you know in that moment he understands what you can’t put into words. 

“It wasn’t easy for me, at first. I reacted badly.” He shakes his head, and you think maybe this is an understatement. You reach out to grasp his wrist, right above where your hands are intertwined. “I was cold, barely living back in Boston. Mostly just dying, slowly. Not ready for all the ways that kid can get under my skin. Not ready to have someone I would- that I could let down again. Everything she did reminded me of–“ he clears his throat. “Of Sarah. And I didn’t talk about her or let anyone else talk about her for 20 years. Even saying her name, it’s…” He trails off and looks down the road back towards your houses for a moment, working his jaw as he gathers his thoughts. 

“Anyway. I think I know what you’re feeling. I’ve been there myself.” You nod, not sure what to say, or if you can get any words out. You squeeze his hand, this time. 

He steps back a little, stepping out of the moment you’ve just shared. “Anyway. We should get on. I’ll let you know about dinner, and maybe you and I can meet for lunch sometimes? Until then?” You nod and smile, even as your hands separate well before you enter the dining hall. 

…

You don’t manage lunch, but Joel does come back to you a couple of days later with an actual dinner invitation for the following Saturday, five days away. You agree of course, even though you know how anxious you’ll get with five days to wait. He must see it in your face because he reassures you, “Ellie told me to ask you, darlin’.”

So you manage, anxiously, counting down the days until Saturday. You keep busy in the stables and the garden and even eat with Tommy and Maria a couple of times, trying and failing to ban all teasing about it. He takes mercy on you when he sees the state you’ve wound yourself into by Friday afternoon. 

“Everything’ll be fine, sunshine. No need to look so gloomy.” You can’t help but roll your eyes, wondering if you’ll ever escape Tommy Miller’s puns about the weather. You see Maria doing the same but Tommy just grins, unrepentant.

“I just don’t know what to expect, which makes it worse.”

He reaches over to pat you on the arm. “Ellie’s prickly, sure, but she adopted him the same as he adopted her. She cares about what he cares about. It’ll be fine.” 

You’re not so sure, but you take the reassurance as it’s meant and try to breathe through some of your anxiety. It sort of works.

…

On Saturday you distract yourself with baking so you’ll have something in hand when you arrive at their house later. You haven’t made cookies in years (you hadn’t had the chance in years, before Jackson) but you think they turn out fine. You run out of things to do eventually and find yourself staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. With fifteen minutes to go you wrench yourself away (he knows what you look like and you’re both old, now, anyway) to finish getting ready. You glance at the shoe box by the door, wondering if you should bring it or leave it – maybe it won’t come up? It probably will, though. You sigh, unsure, and decide to leave it. You can run back and get it if you need to. Cookies in hand, you head next door. 

You wonder if Ellie was waiting at the window, because she yanks the door open before you can knock. She raises an eyebrow at you and asks, “What’s that?” nodding at the plate in your hands.

“Cookies. You’re looking better.” You hand her the plate. 

“Cookies!” her eyes get comically big as she takes them from you. Joel, demonstrating how much of a dad he still is and always will be, calls from the kitchen, “not until after dinner, Ellie!” She immediately frowns, looking mutinous. You grin at her as she rolls her eyes. 

“Don’t worry, that whole plate is for the two of you. Plenty to go around.” She looks a bit mollified, and heads towards the kitchen. You follow.

You find Joel at the stove, spooning something out of a pan and on to three plates. “Whatever that is, it smells amazing, Joel.” 

He smirks at you over his shoulder. “It’s pepper chicken.”

“No fucking way.” 

It’s out before you can help yourself - you haven’t had a meal like that, from Before, in ages. Ellie snorts. “He’s been talking this up all day, it better be fucking good.”

He eyes her a little, but you cursed first (whoops), so what’s he going to say? He looks back to you and explains that Tommy helped him figure out how to make it with what they have in Jackson. “Hopefully it’s about the same.” 

The three of you settle at the table as he sets out the plates, and you notice they’ve put a candle in the center of the table. 

“Nice ambiance,” you say, grinning at him a little, trying to shake off your nerves.

Ellie laughs, a single emphatic ha!, loud and bright. “He would not stop talking about that candle all damn day. I told him it was cheesy, so he wanted to get rid of it, but then I told him you apparently liked cheesy romantic shit, so he should keep it.” Joel is staring Ellie down and clearly wants her to stop talking, but she’s looking at you and you’re nodding to encourage her.

“Oh? I do like cheesy romantic shit.” Ellie laughs again, clearly at his expense. “What else did he say?”

“That’s enough of that, I think,” Joel interrupts, cutting Ellie another look. “Let’s eat before it gets cold.”

You roll your eyes and see Ellie does the same. She grins at you, but then seems to catch herself – like she’s enjoying the back and forth, but isn’t sure of you yet. Fair.

You take a bite of the chicken and can’t stop the moan you let out at the taste. “Holy shit, Joel. How did you manage this?” When you look at him he’s already staring at you, fork dangling from his fingers, looking a little bit like he just got hit over the head with something. “Joel?”

He coughs and adjusts his seat. “Um, right. It wasn’t so hard, just traded for some ingredients from the garden. It’s good?”

“It’s great,” Ellie says. Clearly it’s true because she’s making the chicken disappear at the speed of light. At the same time she’s somehow also darting her eyes between the two of you, like you’re doing something suspicious. She lets the silence hang for a moment, but then asks, “so, what have you been up to for the last 20 years?”

“Ellie! I told you, we don’t need to hash everything out all at once. We can take it slow.” Joel cuts in, eyebrows furrowed in her direction. 

“Oh come on, Joel, you’re such a dinosaur. But like, not one of the cool ones. Just ask! Why waste time?” You wonder what you did to make Ellie want to ask. You were nervous before, but now you’re feeling a bit like you’re walking a tightrope again. Is this a good thing or a bad thing? It’s impossible to tell, but it feels like it will go over worse if you refuse.

“We can talk about it. I don’t mind.” You try to give Joel an encouraging look as you respond. He’s quiet for a moment but then agrees. 

“Alright. Don’t see why we shouldn’t, I guess.” His voice takes on a teasing note as he looks back towards Ellie. “Let’s just jump right in, since you want to so bad.” She rolls her eyes at him again.

“So, let’s hear it! Where have you been?” 

You take a deep breath, trying to decide where to start. You know from Tommy the outline of what they did, where Joel has been – the locations, a few major events, and so on. But you don’t think he knows much about your story. You set down your fork and begin. 

“On Outbreak day, I was in Boston at a conference for work. Joel and I talked on the phone that morning before the conference, but by the end of the day… well. Everything changed.” You take a sip of water. This part, at least, you’ve told someone before, so it’s not as hard to organize your thoughts. “I tried to call, I think everyone did, but the phones went down pretty quick. There was chaos, and then there was what became the QZ, later. But I left before they really got it going. I went south – all I wanted was to get home. To get to Texas.” You’ve been speaking to Ellie, mostly, but at this point you finally look at Joel, and you find him staring at you, unblinking, with the unreadable expression on his face that you know means he’s trying to hide some strong emotion. You look away from both of their gazes and down to the table, gathering yourself.

“I found a group heading south and went with them. We made it to Baltimore, but it was such a goddamn mess. They didn’t want to keep going and I didn’t want to go alone – I knew back then that I wouldn’t make it far – so I stayed, thinking I’d find another group. But staying for a little while turned into a long while and, well. You’ve probably heard what happened to the QZ there in ‘07.” Joel nods, you can see him out of the corner of your eye. You look at him again and find him the same as a moment ago, but with his fists clenched so tight his knuckles are white. You realize you’re staring and look away.

“At that point I was clinging to the hope that my family was still alive with the barest tips of my fingers. But having to leave Baltimore pushed me further south, and I ended up in Atlanta. And, well,” you look at Joel. “I ran into Joyce.” Joel starts in his seat, hands relaxing in his surprise. 

“Joyce Roberts?” he asks, incredulous.

“Yep. That Joyce. Can you believe it? Just walked right into her on the street one day.” You look at Ellie again. “Joyce lived on our street, back in Austin. This was in ‘08, I guess? And we had a whole reunion moment, and then she just looked at me, and I knew. I knew what she was about to say.” You feel yourself start to choke up, and close your eyes, taking a deep breath.

“I know now that she was wrong, but then, it was crystal clear, like a movie playing in front of my eyes as she told me what happened. She said she’d seen you that night, Joel, you and Tommy and Sarah. You sped out of the neighborhood in the truck, and somehow she saw Tommy again, in the chaos after that plane crashed. After that she lost you again, but she asked after you later at one of the camps. She said they told her that according to their records, all three of you were dead.” You’re whispering, at this point, but you try to breathe through it. 

“I guess the, um, the news about what happened with Sarah and then... after… that news got around from the field hospital, but not quite correctly. So some list of survivors got updated wrong. It’s not like those lists were worth much, not for much longer. It was before everyone stopped trying to keep track like that.” You open your eyes, and glance at Joel. He’s pale. 

“But anyway. She was sure, and it had been five years. It killed whatever hope I had left.”

You’re quiet for a moment. You see Joel is barely breathing next to you, his hands clutching the edge of the table. Ellie’s eyes are wide and her face says she’s not sure if she should make any noise at all. You know Joel knows what you were alluding to after Sarah’s death and you don’t want to bring it up any more than that, not now. You’d heard it from Joyce and it’s been a weight ever since.

“Um, anyway. I guess I’ll… we can talk about that another time.” You glance between them and rub your hands on your thighs. Breathe. “So I was in Atlanta for a while. Probably about 8 years? I just worked, like everyone else. Made some sort-of friends.” You hesitate, thinking about Michelle. You decide you’ll come back to it later. You’re already choking on the words as they leave your mouth. 

“But by ‘16, I had to leave. It was getting… weird, in the QZ. And for other reasons.” You take another sip of water. “By that time I was more capable of surviving on my own. Like everyone these days, I guess. So I headed west, thinking I’d go home, see what was there. Turns out I beat Tommy back to Austin by a year or two.” 

You turn to Joel. “That’s why he barely found anything in the house. I, uh, got there first.” You see it dawn on him. “Yeah. I have some stuff over at my house, I wasn’t sure we’d talk about it. I can go get it later.”

“What- what stuff?” He looks like he wants to know and doesn’t want to know, at the same time. You know the feeling. 

“You remember the photo calendars we had made in ‘02 and ‘03? Those, and a couple other pictures. Sarah’s favorite book. One of your shirts and the- um. The belt buckle.” You cleared your throat. “Some new clothes for me. And, um.” You meet his eyes. “That mix CD, from when we got together. Some other little stuff.” He looks overwhelmed. “Yeah, there’s a lot. I’ll bring it over, ok? You can go through it, keep stuff.” He nods, looking far away.

Ellie looks like she’s about ready to burst. “What CD? And what happened in Atlanta? What about after Austin? What next?”

You smile a little at her questions. “Ok, let’s see. Well, Sarah helped Joel burn me a mix CD – do you know what that means?” She shrugs, saying she knows what a CD is. “Ok, close enough. Basically Sarah and Joel created the list of songs and put it on the CD. It had some of our favorite songs to dance to on it. I haven’t seen a CD player in years but I took the CD anyway. 

“Atlanta…” you swallow. “Let’s come back to that, ok? After Austin, I kept heading west. I found some people in west Texas who weren’t so bad to stay with, for a bit. I think I was there for about two years? And then I decided to head to Kansas City, but I heard some bad stuff before I ever got there. I ended up making it work with what was left of the Dallas QZ for a while. I did ok there, anyway. And then last year I decided to head out this way, and Tommy literally stumbled over me on a patrol and scared the shit out of me and turned my life upside down in the process.” 

You stop, and the three of you are quiet. All you hear is the sound of your own breathing.. You aren’t sure what else to say without getting too deep into things you don’t feel ready to talk about, from Baltimore and Atlanta and Dallas. None of them were easy and all of them still hurt at least a little bit. You hope Ellie doesn’t ask but you’ll try if she does.

Joel looks like he’s still trying to take in everything you said, but he finally says, “I wonder if we ever passed each other. Tommy and I, well, our goal at the beginning, as much as we had one, was to get to Boston. To you. But somewhere around Dallas we heard that the initial Outbreak in Boston had been so bad, there were barely any survivors. And I-“ he clears his throat. “I, um, wasn’t in the best shape, back then. It convinced me you were gone, like Sarah, and well. I wasn’t… I couldn’t…” he just shakes his head. “We didn’t actually get there until years later. I guess we could try to match it all up, make a timeline.” 

You shudder. Were you ever in the same place at the same time, unknowing? You almost don’t want to know. 

“I don't think I’m ready for that.” He shakes his head, agreeing with you. “I think that’s all I can do tonight.” You look back at Ellie. She’s studying you. 

“We can talk more later,” she agrees, “but I have one question.” You nod, fixing your face into something neutral. A slightly mischievous look comes across her face. “Can we listen to the CD? We have a player in the living room.” 

You start and bang your hand on the table. “You do? Fuck, I never thought I’d find one.” Joel sighs, and rolls his eyes as you shake out your hand. “I’m allowed to curse, old man, I’m just as old as you.”

“Not quite, darlin’.” He smiles at you. You start to come down from the emotional rollercoaster of the last half hour and smile back. 

“Let me go grab the CD.”

You run back to your house, and after a moment’s thought, grab the entire shoebox. He can look through it later. 

When you return to their house, Ellie and Joel have moved to the living room, and she’s elbowing him and saying something you don’t catch that makes him put his face in his hands. She grins and spots you in the door. You hand her the CD.

Ellie inspects it carefully, seeing the handwritten tracklist in the little paper insert that has yellowed a bit with age. “Joel, did you really make this?” He nods. 

“Sarah did the technical work but we made it together.”

“You weren’t lying, he really was a cheesy romantic. How many of these are in Spanish?” He sighs in a long-suffering way, falling back onto the couch. It makes you smile. 

“Like I told you, it’s who he is.” You look at him, and despite the grumpy act he’s putting on for Ellie, he winks at you. It sets off fireworks inside of you and you smile, helplessly.

Ellie gets the CD in the player, and the whirring noise it makes as it spins the disc sends a wave of nostalgia over you, unexpectedly strong. You resist closing your eyes, knowing what you’ll hear first. You want to see Ellie’s reaction. 

You try to control your face, watching as “La Bomba” starts. She looks confused, and then incredulous. 

“What the fuck is this?” 

You start to laugh, and you see Joel chuckling, too. You know “Suavemente” is up next so you look at him and hold out your hand. “Want to show her?” He gives you a look, and for a moment you aren’t sure what he’ll do. But he stands, of course, and takes your hand. 

“Sure, darlin’.” And then he starts to move.

You weren’t lying when you said you hadn’t danced in 20 years. But somehow, in Joel Miller’s arms, your body remembers what to do, and you start to move across the room together like no time has passed. 

Joel had taught you how to dance in his backyard, with Tommy and Sarah laughing nearby. He had shown you a bit of merengue and how to two-step that first day, and much more later, but most of the time you had just let him lead in both partner dances and line dances. Some of the songs on the CD were ones you used to dance to in his living room or in night clubs, and some were just for you. You wouldn’t say you’re doing any particular style now, as the second track starts, just that you’re dancing and following his lead. 

Ellie whistles and cheers you on from the side, but you can’t look away from Joel. His eyes are locked on you and it feels impossible to look anywhere else. You float through the dance, feeling like your feet are barely touching the floor. 

When the song ends and “Lambada” starts, you force yourself to step back, a bit overwhelmed with how much the dance affected you. 

“Ellie, do you want to learn?” She looks surprised, and then uncertain. 

“Um, maybe? I’m not sure I want to dance with anyone.” 

You tilt your head as you look at her, a hunch forming in the back of your mind, and smile. “Maybe give it a try?” She nods and Joel beckons her over. As they get in position you search through the tracklist to a song you think might work for a lesson. You skip ahead to the Shakira song later on the list because you think the slower beat will help.

You sit on the couch to watch Joel start to direct Ellie around the room, but it pretty quickly becomes clear that it’s not working. She’s fighting him with every step and they keep bumping into each other. It seems you were right – maybe Ellie, headstrong as she is, would do better leading. You stand up.

“I think we’re teaching her the wrong part,” you say as you cut in between her and Joel. He smirks, gesturing for you to take his place as he moves towards the couch. “Ellie, why don’t you try leading for a bit.” You direct her and it’s immediately pretty obvious that she’s more comfortable controlling the dance. She learns a couple of easy steps and starts to lead you carefully around the room, picking up on what Joel had been trying to do as well. 

After a couple of minutes you look over your shoulder at him, grinning, but you see that he’s gotten distracted by the open shoebox on the coffee table. He’s got his belt buckle in one hand, thumb tracing the design absently, like he still remembers the exact shape of the letters after all these years. With the other he reaches in to pull out the 2002 calendar. It’s the one with you and Sarah on the front, smiling for the camera and posing in front of the lake you used to visit in the summer. 

You don’t even realize you’ve stopped dancing until Ellie bumps into you. “What’s wrong?” she asks, looking around you at Joel. “Oh.” 

Joel seems to realize you’re both looking at him, and he looks up at you, that familiar unreadable look on his face. “Sorry, I just looked in and couldn’t help it. I–”

“It’s alright. Maybe that’s enough of a lesson for today, anyway.” You smile a little. “You can hold on to the box, we can figure it out later. Or talk about it. Whatever you want. I kept, um, one of Sarah’s hair ties, with the yellow beads. There’s another one in there.” There’s one more thing back at your house that you decide to keep to yourself for now. Neither of you are ready for that. “And, um. I gave Tommy your mom’s bracelet. For Maria.” 

Joel snorts. “The one you always hated and thought was ugly as sin?” You laugh. 

“Yep, that’s the one.”

The atmosphere in the room has gotten heavier, the moment clearly over, and the two of you have become awkward, losing all the ease you found when dancing. Ellie steps into the middle of it, and says, “well, I still have questions, but I can already hear Joel telling me I’m being rude like the cranky old man he is, so next time, I guess.” 

You feel a bit lighter at her words. Next time? You’ll take it. “I’d like that. Thanks, Ellie.”

You start to head towards the door, and Joel carefully sets everything back in the box to join you. “You can look through it, Ellie, just be careful.” She nods, sitting gingerly next to the box on the coffee table, looking over its contents with wide eyes. The two of you step out onto the porch to say goodnight. 

You’re quiet for a moment, looking at each other. Joel regards you thoughtfully, and says, “that went about as well as it could, I think.” You agree. 

“The dinner was great, Joel.”

“Well, that too. But you and Ellie, is what I meant. I think she’s still wary of everybody but me, but seems to me like she wants to get to know you.” 

“I really hope so. She’s a force of nature, isn’t she?” He nods, smiling, and you can see in it how much he cares about her, his adopted younger daughter. 

“Sorry she brought all that up so quick.”

“It’s fine, Joel. I wanted you to know, anyway. Both of you.” 

He nods, but looks a bit hesitant. “I know we said slow and agreed, darlin’, but I hope you don’t mind if it ends up being real slow after all.” You reach out to reassure him, lightly touching his right arm.

“I need time, too, Joel. There’s things you don’t know about me yet, and things you probably want to tell me, too.” He doesn’t look reassured. You think for a moment, and add, “We know the foundation is there, right? But what we built is long gone, so we just have to see if we can build it again.” He’s looking at you like he can’t tell if you’re sincere or making a construction pun to tease him. It’s both, but he doesn’t need to know that. For now. 

“Alright, darlin’. That’s maybe enough feelings for one day.” He laughs as you roll your eyes at him. “But I have to tell you something, though, before you go.” He moves his arm and you start to move your hand away from where you were still touching him, but he catches it and laces your fingers together. 

“You’re so kind and smart and beautiful,” he starts, and your breath catches in your throat. He smiles at you. “It took my breath away back then and it still does now. I’ll be mad until the day I die that I missed out on 20 years of you, but I still can’t believe you’re here, in front of me.” He tilts his head and squeezes your hand. “You’re especially beautiful tonight. I felt as lucky to have you in my arms during that dance as I did back in ‘01.” 

Your face has gone hot and you raise your free hand to your cheek, knowing he can tell. 

“Joel–”

“No, I want you to hear it. You were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen outside of your house with the moving truck that day we met and it’s still true now. And watching you talk to Ellie and get to know her?” He shakes his head a little, but he’s smiling. “I never thought I’d feel this way again, never thought I’d get to watch two people I care about get to know each other like that. I just wanted you to know how much it means to me. That’s all.”

That’s all, he says. Like it isn’t everything. You’re biting your lip, holding back tears by the time he’s done. You reach out to cup his cheek with your right hand. “Joel Miller, you smooth-talking son of a bitch.” He laughs outright at that, sounding a little choked up himself. 

“I’ve never been able to defend against those moves. Not that I’d want to.” You smile as he leans his head into your hand. “I’m feeling it too, ok? We should go slow, yes, but… well, like I said, we’ve got the foundation. We’re just easing into it.” He grins, and you see a glimpse of him at 32 that you weren’t expecting to ever see again. 

“Probably better, at our age.”

“Better for you maybe, old man. I’m still younger than you.”

“Darlin’, you turn 50 soon, and we both know it.” You shove him a little, grinning. He smiles back, that half smile that used to get under your skin and take your breath away. It still does. 

“Well, Joel Miller, with that I think I’ll turn in.” You start to turn away, but he reels you back in for a short hug. He holds you tightly for just a moment, whispering, “Thanks for the shoebox. I can’t… well. I’m going to take my time with it.” He pulls away.

“Take all the time you need.”

...

Austin, Spring 2001 

On Sunday, you changed your outfit five times before telling yourself to get a grip and putting back on the first thing you had pulled out of your closet, 45 minutes ago. Joel had seen literally all of these clothes before; he’d lived next door to you for six months. Get it together. You looked at yourself in the mirror, messed with your hair one last time, and then forced yourself to leave the bathroom and head downstairs. 

In the kitchen, you glanced at the clock – 5:54pm – and picked up the cookies you baked that morning, heading next door to the Millers’. 

You knocked on their door, and after a few moments with no response you knocked again. Odd. You put your ear to the door and heard music and Sarah laughing. You tried the door and realized it was unlocked. 

As you crossed the threshold you called out, “Millers? Anyone home?” Inside you could more clearly hear the music coming from the backyard, so you left the cookies in the kitchen (where something smelled amazing) and headed towards the back door.

You found it open, and you could hear Sarah laugh again as you moved closer. “Dad come on, you stepped on my toes!”

“Sarah Miller, I raised you not to tell lies.” Joel sounded out of breath, but he was laughing as he said it.

“Well, that’s definitely a lie if I ever heard one.” You leaned in the doorway, smiling as you watched Joel lead Sarah around the yard to “Rie y Llora.” Tommy jumped out of the way as Joel steered Sarah right into him in retaliation for that remark. They hadn’t noticed you yet. 

“Celia Cruz, huh?”

All three Millers turned at your question, all three smiling at you. It was a little overwhelming, as always, to have the attention of all three at once. Sarah elbowed her dad lightly and laughed, saying, “she’s Abuela's favorite.” Joel rolled his eyes. 

“It’s good music for learning,” he muttered, clearly not for the first time. 

“It looks to me like Sarah already knows what she’s doing.” You smiled at the look he shot your way.

“Ha! See, dad?”

“Sure, baby girl. Why don’t you go take Uncle Tommy for a spin, since you know what you’re doing.” With that, Joel spun Sarah towards Tommy, who caught her easily and started leading her around the yard. You laughed, and then looked back towards Joel. He was watching you with that half smile that always gave you goosebumps. 

“Do you know how to dance, darlin’?”

“In a club? Sure. Like that? No way.” 

He grinned at your answer. “Want to learn?” He held his hand out, guiding you towards him once you placed your hand in his. 

“I’ve never danced like this before. I’ll probably stomp all over your feet.” Joel placed your right hand on his shoulder, and took your left hand in his right.

“You let me worry about where our feet go, darlin’. I’ll show you the basics and then you just follow me.” And over the next 15 minutes, that’s exactly what he did. 

Soon you found yourself slowly moving around the yard to “Lambada,” definitely slower than the music called for. At some point Tommy and Sarah went inside to work on finishing dinner but you barely noticed. You were focusing on keeping up with Joel. 

Just as you started to feel a little bit confident, a slow song that you didn’t know started to play. Joel slowed the two of you as well, starting to mostly sway in place instead of moving around so much. He pulled you a little closer with his left hand around your waist.

Catching your breath, and taking your focus off of your feet, you asked, “what brought this on? I don’t think I’ve ever come over to find y’all mid-dance-lesson before.”

“Sarah’s got that school dance coming up and she’s a bit nervous.” He laughed, shaking his head. “I tried to tell her I only know how to do this and a few of those line dances they do in the clubs Tommy goes to. Not whatever dancing they’ll be doing – probably closer to your club dancing.” He winked at you, and you held on a little tighter to his shoulder. “But then she reminded me that her cousin’s party is coming up, anyway, and they will definitely be dancing just like this. So, we were practicing.”

“Cousin?” You asked, confused. Tommy didn’t have kids, and you were pretty sure there were no other Miller siblings.

“Ah, technically it’s my cousin’s kid, on my mom’s side. Easier to just say cousin. They all live down in San Antonio.” He shrugged. You nodded. 

“Well, you did a good job teaching me. Bet that’ll be a fun party.”

You realized at that point that you had slowly swayed in the direction of the trees closer to the back of the yard. You were under the shade of one of the trees, partially out of view from the house. You'd moved closer together as the dance slowed and you found yourself with your right hand on Joel’s neck, fingertips almost touching his hairline. Your eyes darted from his arms, holding you securely, to his shoulders, flexing under his shirt, up to his face. 

You looked up to find Joel looking right back at you. “See something you like, darlin’?” He smirked. You felt a rush of warmth towards your face, but you weren’t really embarrassed. You felt like your whole body was tingling, like you were heading towards something you’d been hoping for for months. Like you were racing forward and up ahead there was a cliff you might fall off of, but you’d fall together. Like the fall was the point, the destination. Your breath caught in your throat. 

“Maybe I do, neighbor,” you managed. He grinned in response, tugging you just a bit closer. Any closer and you’d feel him pressed against you everywhere.

“I know I do.”

“What?” You’d lost track of the conversation. His proximity was going to your head. 

“See something I like.” As he responded, he let go of your hand and brought his right hand up to cup your face. You saw him glance from your eyes to your mouth and in response, you pressed closer, winding your hands into his hair. Joel leaned in, and you barely felt the touch of his lips to yours, when the back door opened and Tommy shouted, “dinner’s ready, love birds! Get in here!”

Joel groaned as he stepped away from you, resting his hands on your shoulders. “I guess we should head inside.” As he said it, he lifted one hand to trace his fingertips along your cheekbone before running his hand lightly over your shoulder and down your arm. “Stick around after dinner? I’d like another dance.” You smiled as he reached down to take your hand and lead you toward the house, walking backwards and keeping his eyes trained on yours. 

“Smooth moves, Miller. Save some for later.”

He was still smiling, but suddenly you felt the intent in his gaze, more focused than even a moment ago. “Oh darlin’, don’t worry. For you I got plenty more.”

…

Dinner with the Millers was always fun, and this occasion was no different. Tommy and Sarah teased Joel mercilessly, and he got them right back, though he was always a little softer with Sarah. 

You talked and joked over dinner, noting Joel had made one of your favorites – pepper chicken – and he winked at you when you thanked him for it. Sarah updated you about her week after she got over her cold and her excitement about the upcoming dance. After dinner she rushed upstairs to talk to a friend on the phone as Tommy headed out the door (“to do some real dancing, y'all should come out sometime”). You were left with Joel in the kitchen, clearing the table together and starting in on the dishes. 

“You don’t have to help with that, darlin’, I can get ‘em later.” 

You bumped your hip against his as he slid in next to you at the sink. “It’s no bother, Joel. Let me help.” He smiled at you, softly, and nodded, picking up the towel to dry the dishes. 

You worked quietly, sometimes recalling a joke from dinner, but you mostly just enjoyed the moment together. As soon as you handed him the last dish he set it aside, still wet, to take your hand and lead you back outside. He switched the music back on with the volume low as you passed the boombox.

In one smooth motion, Joel turned and pulled you back into his arms, into the stance you had only just left before dinner. But this time he pulled you close from the start, tucking you up against him and smoothing his hand across your lower back. 

“Well hello there, darlin’. Fancy meeting you here.”

You smiled, and rolled your eyes a little. “Hey, cowboy.” You let your fingertips play with his hair along his neck. You noticed a light shiver in his shoulders as you did. 

You smirked. “Joel, are you ticklish?” 

“No, and you better not let on to Sarah that you wondered anything of the sort.” He glared at you playfully as he said it, spinning you a little into a new spot in the yard. You laughed, a bit winded even though you'd barely moved. 

“Hmm, seems like information that would be worth quite a bit to some people around here,” you mused. You brushed your fingers lightly across his hairline again, and he squirmed again in response. 

He hid a smile, pulling you in so he could whisper directly into your left ear. “But darlin’, if you keep my secret, I’ll make it worth your while.” It was your turn to shiver. 

“Oh? How so?” You’d never heard your own voice so breathless. 

He chuckled, and raised his left hand from your hip to your jaw, tilting your head to your right as he tucked his face into the left side of your neck. He ran his lips lightly from your shoulder to your jaw, sending shivers down your spine as you inhaled sharply. He kissed you, lightly, right at the hinge of your jaw, and then on your cheek, and then his mouth met yours, softly, barely there and then with gentle pressure. 

He pulled away after only a moment, and you met his eyes in a daze. His gaze was dark, and you felt like you were moving through molasses. Everything was slow, and soft, and heady. You were floating through it and Joel’s hands on you – on your cheek, holding your left hand – were the only things keeping you tethered.

Joel murmured your name. “Let me take you out.”

“When?” Your reply fell from your lips so quickly it made him smile, and you smiled back, unashamed. 

“Friday? Sarah’s got a sleepover.” He smoothed his thumb over your cheekbone. “We can go dancing, show off these moves.” 

You laughed. “Joel, I’ve barely got one, maybe two moves. You sure we don’t need another dance lesson before we take this show on the road?”

He huffed a laugh too, and turned you a little. “Just follow along with me, darlin’, I won’t let you stumble.”

You bit your lip, and nodded. “Friday.”

“Friday,” he agreed, pulling you in again. As his lips met yours again, you wondered how you were going to wait five days for more of this. Joel pulled himself away with a small groan, resting his forehead against yours. “We should stop before we get too carried away, with Sarah home.” You nodded. 

You danced a bit more, finishing out the last couple of tracks on the CD. Joel kept his forehead against yours at first, and then tucked your face into his chest, resting his cheek on top of your head and slowly swaying as the last song trailed off into silence.

You didn’t want to let go quite yet, and it seemed Joel didn’t either, as neither of you moved. You could feel your happiness at finally taking the leap together glowing in your chest – from dancing around each other to an actual dance, the months of talking and flirting had finally gotten you somewhere. But you couldn’t help but wonder.

“Joel? Why now?” You asked it softly, face still tucked into his chest. He hummed lowly in response before pulling back to meet your eyes. He regarded you silently for a moment before seeming to come to a decision. 

“I think we both felt it, right? That first day. You were – you are – the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and I knew I wanted you,” he smirked as he noticed you bite your lip at that admission. He squeezed your hip. “But I realized pretty quick that with you, I wanted something real. I haven’t dated anyone in a long, long time. I wanted to take it slow, and get to know you first.” You nodded. You wanted that, too. 

“But darlin’, I realized the other day, when you were here with Sarah, that maybe there’s a line between taking it slow and just being afraid, and I was flirting with it. And I’d rather be flirting with you.” He grinned as you rolled your eyes a little bit at his joke. “I’ve been afraid for a long time. Afraid of letting someone in when it’s not just me I have to worry about.” He looked towards the house. “But Sarah loves you.”

“And I love her, Joel. That girl is special.” He smiled and nodded before looking back at you.

“I know you do. And she’s been teasing me about asking you out for months.”

“Oh yeah? Well you should know better than to ignore her advice, Joel.” 

He sighed, long-suffering, and nodded. “I know it.”

Joel pulled away and started to head back to the house, right hand reaching for your left. You felt a little shaky, like you really had been floating for the last half hour. 

As you approached the front door, he squeezed your hand. “I’ll see you Friday, darlin’.”

“You sure will, cowboy.” He smiled and pulled you in for another short kiss. 

“Now get, before we get any bad ideas.” 

You laughed, and headed out the door he opened for you. 

“Night, darlin’.”

“See you Friday, Joel.”

...

a/n: see you 8/20 for chapter 4 (aka, when the smut arrives lol)

update: ch 4 now posted!

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@morgaussy @jay-zzle @bluetattoos @dins-riduur-anthe

[not7wu]

Title: Tonight (Our Fingers Touch the Sky)

Status: Ongoing

Total Word Count: 57.3k in progress

Pairing: SeokjinxReader, Friends to Lovers, The Gang is Here (Platonic)

Rating/Genre: Mature; Idol AU, Canon Divergence, Thriller, Amnesia

Summary: You find yourself in Seoul, Korea with no memory of how you got there.  All you know is that you woke up naked–in Jin’s bed!  And you’re friends with BTS.  You’re told the life you knew is a dream, but you can’t shake the feeling that BTS are hiding something from you.  Whatever it is, you’re determined to get to the bottom of it. 

Preview: He knows your name? Kim motherfucking Seokjin knows your name. “And you’re Kim Seokjin, Worldwide Handsome, also known as Jin of BTS.”

Your word vomit has you wanting to die on the spot. Jin huffs a laugh. “Are you gonna start reciting my birthday, astrological sign, and MBTI results next?”

December 4, 1992. Sagittarius. INTP. You think it, but self preservation has you blessedly silent. His eyes twinkle like he knows what you’re thinking anyway.

Chapter List:

Ch. 1 - Where are you? - f/a/c; 6k

Ch. 2 - The Rules - f/a/c; 5.2k

Ch. 3 - Best Friends - f/a/c; 4.7k

Ch. 4 - A Crappy Day - f/a/c; 5.8k

Ch. 5 - Family - f/a/c/s; 6.5k

Ch. 6 - A Symbiotic Relationship - f/a/c; 6.5k

Ch. 7 - House of Cards - f/a; 6.8k

Ch. 8 - A Trusted Friend - f/a; 5.7k

Ch. 9 - Building Bridges - f/a/c; 4.7k

Ch. 10 - Branded - f/a/c; 5.4k

Ch. 11 -

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Warnings: Amnesia, Anxiety, Swearing, Depictions of and Implied Violence, Abandonment Issues, Stalking, Gun Violence, Coma, PTSD, Trauma, Set in 2020 during the Pandemic

A/N: Yallz have no idea how excited I am to finally be sharing the fruits of my labor. This fic is something I wrote during the pandemic in my Baby Army days when the few fanfics I read didn't satisfy me. It took me a while to learn how to navigate to find the good stuff. The ones I stumbled upon were too insta-love/smutty with NO plot; of course this was back when my love for BTS was at the stage of innocent adoration in contrast to where I am now in my delulu derangement. :D

Holed up with my roommate/cousin, "S", and our friends Garrett and Marlena in 2020, I wrote this to pass the time and to entertain them. S is a Jin-bias, so some of the scenes are catered to her.

This is a completed fic that I am rewriting, so don't worry that I'll fall off the face of the earth. The end will come and I hope it will satisfy your Jin loving, plot driven heart! A new chapter will be posted every Monday. I hope you enjoy the fic!

Here's the Youtube / Spotify playlist I listen to on shuffle as I write this.

Also, last but not least, thank you to my betas, @justamomnamedamie and @miksancheese ! I seriously could not do this without you!

Click here if you prefer to read on AO3!

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[m3rricat]

Advocatus Ardens - Ch. 1

>>Read on AO3<<

Pairing: Wyll/Astarion

Rating: M

Wyllstarion slowburn set in a modern-with-magic-lurking-there AU Baldur's Gate and eventually other settings; public defender attorney!Wyll and client!Astarion

A/N: Welp starting to post this earlier than expected but I got a 25k buffer and enough of an idea where this is going so let's do this! Will not be posting the whole thing on tumblr, just linking to AO3 above. I'm hoping to update every Sunday.

Tag list (you guys said you wanted to be notified on that first post I made about this fic, just let me know if you want me to take you off. Thanks!): @tea-time221 @kringle-c

Story summary:

In the modern world of Toril, the existence of magic and devils and the like are believed to be relics of the distant past. But Wyll Ravengard knows all too well that these things still lurk in the corners of his own city, Baldur’s Gate, where he fights every day in the arena of the courtroom for his clients who have no one else by their side. One mundane morning, he meets one of his semi-regulars in lockup, Astarion Ancunín, a rare elf remaining in this world. What seems like one of Astarion’s usual street-level run-ins with the law explodes into something much more—something touching the highest levels of the city-state’s government and infernal planes beyond. Wyll struggles against the forces in and out of the system that wish to use Astarion, and at the same time contends with his own long-sleeping pact with a higher power which will lead him and Astarion on a journey far beyond the familiar confines of the Gate.

Chapter preview:

Her voice rang out clear as a bell that morning in his head, as if she was snuggled under the rumpled sheets right next to him.

Good morning, pet.

Wyll Ravengard’s eyes shot open, cold sweat beading all over, his bedside clock blaring bright-red 6:19AM like a dire warning.

Gods. It had been years, literal years, since her words had slithered through his brain, dripping as they always did in self-satisfaction. And, just like when he had been seventeen and scared shitless, wandering that psych unit like ghost, Wyll forced himself to not respond against the rising tide of panic. He lay unmoving in his bed, both numb and painfully sharp as fear crackled through his nerves.

[chickycherrycola]

(no place like) home for the holidays

Its Christmas Eve! Which means its FINALLY TIME for me to unveil the very special project I've been working on! I got a Christmas-y, holiday-themed idea in my head several weeks ago that started out as a few loosely connected scenes, and eventually spiraled into a whole-ass novel 😅 and today I am so pleased to present my most recent labor of love to the Soul Eater fandom: (no place like) home for the holidays. Its centered around Soul and Maka visiting Soul's family for the holidays, and its fluffy, its sappy, its pine-scented, and its so so mushy. I really hope that if you read it, that you enjoy 💝🎄

As always, I gotta give a special shout-out to @moriohpissky for all of her assistance bringing this fic to life. Thank you Leah for the beta read, the idea bouncing, and the assistance with the lovely moodboard! 💕

I'll be posting a chapter a day until the end of the year, starting with Chapter 1 today!

Rating: T

Summary: After a bit of convincing from his overzealous but well-meaning older brother, Soul returns to his hometown in upstate New York for Christmas with his meister in tow. It's been more than ten years since he's been home, and along the way, he'll have to contend with more than just a long-buried past - travel delays, shitty motel rooms with less-than-ideal sleeping arrangements, Wes's horrible ugly sweaters, and, perhaps most daunting of all... his feelings for Maka.

Preview of Chapter 1 under the cut, or read the whole chapter on Ao3!

Ch 1: All I Want For Christmas Is You

His phone rings just as he’s realizing he might be the slightest bit inebriated.

Incoming Call…

Wes

The only reason Soul picks up the phone is because he's on his fourth cup of eggnog - or is it his fifth? Truthfully, he's lost count at this point - and he'd woefully underestimated the potency of one sixteen-ounce pour of eggnog, let alone four or five of them.

(A rookie mistake, honestly, given that this year's Christmas party libations had been supplied by Black Star.)

Before he can think twice about it, he's swiping the green answer button and pressing his phone to the side of his face.

"'Sup?"

It's perhaps a bit too casual a greeting, considering he hasn't spoken to his brother in… months, now.

"Well, color me surprised," Wes chirps through the speaker, and Soul can't help how he cringes in response. "Is that you, little bro, or do my ears deceive me? I suppose I’ve simply forgotten what your voice sounds like, after all this time."

"…Should've sent you straight to voicemail."

"Oh, yes, voicemail, I love leaving those,” Wes hums thoughtfully. “Do you know, I’ve even taken to writing out my messages before I call you. Pity, I was quite excited about this one.”

Soul removes the phone from the side of his face and holds the top of it against his forehead as he draws in a long, slow breath, in part to dredge up his quickly dwindling patience, and in part in an effort to stop the room as it perilously spins around him.

Goddamn eggnog. Goddamn his brother.

When he holds the phone back up to his ear, he asks, as evenly as he can:

"What do you want, Wes?"

“I should think it's fairly obvious,” comes his brother’s reply. “I want to talk to you, Soul. If the fact that I continue to call you once per week despite your insistence on not answering doesn’t make that clear enough.”

"Alright," Soul leans backward against the kitchen counter and crosses one leg over the other. "So talk. Here I am."

Against all better judgment, he brings the red solo cup back to his lips and takes a hearty sip from the spiked eggnog sloshing around inside.

If he must converse with his older brother, maintaining his current level of intoxication will at least make it a tolerable experience.

“Jesus, Soul,” Wes laughs. “Don’t make it sound like talking to me is a death sentence, I just want to chat. What’s new, how’s life, how’s the… what is your title again? Death Knife?”

“Death Scythe.”

“Right! Silly me. How’s the Death Scythe thing going? No ulterior motives, I swear.”

Soul narrows his eyes in suspicion.

“I didn’t ask if you had any ulterior motives.”

Read the rest on Ao3!

[couthbbg]

What You Like

Kris Letang/Erik Karlsson • Rating: E • Ch: 1/2 • 12k

What could Karlsson possibly want, showing up at Kris's hotel room at one in the morning after a blow out loss? Surely nothing good.

Read on Ao3

Finally finished my kriserik fic! It's a BDSM AU, the first in a series of fics. This fic is finished, second chapter will be posted soon. Preview under the cut!

“Tanger!” an unfortunately familiar voice calls, somehow much too loud even muffled through the door. “I can hear you in there. Let me in!”

Of course, Kris thinks. There’s not a single soul on the team he’d want less at his door at one o’clock in the morning, after that shit show of a game no less. Just at the sound of that voice, Kris feels his poorly buried anger bubble up again, prickling at his skin. Three goals against, three goals against with this three-time Norris trophy winner on the ice, and now he wants to show up here, at Kris’s room, in the middle of the night? He must be drunk, Kris thinks, stalking to the door. He must have a fucking death wish.

Kris yanks the door open, hard, though the automatic mechanism at its hinges makes the gesture less dramatic than he was going for.

Karlsson smirks like he can tell. “Hello,” he says far too happily. He should be miserable. He should be groveling. Kris opens his mouth to let Karl know exactly where he can stick his good cheer, but before Kris gets the words out, his overtired brain finally registers the scene in front of him—Karlsson in sweatpants and an inside-out t-shirt, a suitcase propped by his side and a garment bag slung over his shoulder. Karlsson, with all his things. At Kris’s door. At one in the morning.

“Absolutely not,” Kris says flatly, shutting the door in Karl’s face. Or he would have, if it weren’t for that fucking mechanism slowing it down, giving Karl enough time to wedge the side of his shoe against the bottom of the door. Karl doesn’t try to open the door more, just slides over so he’s still visible.

“A pipe burst in my room,” he says, something odd in his voice, maybe disbelief or humor, the exact opposite of the fury Kris would be feeling if that happened to him.

Even foggy and exhausted, Kris can follow that explanation to its likely conclusion. The huff of laughter he lets out is anything but amused. “You’re not staying with me,” he says. “Go find Sid.” Team captain, team dom—Sid’s the resident fixer, the solver of problems, even maddening, smug Swedish problems, smirking at Kris like this is funny. Like it’s not one in the morning, and they didn’t just get their asses handed to them by the Blues.  

“Ah,” says Karl, his smirk widening, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “I tried his room first, but. He’s a bit busy.” Karl has the audacity to wink at Kris, as though Sid’s getting up to something exciting and indulgent, instead of the much more likely scenario. Given that Sid’s sub was on the ice for another three of the eight goals against them tonight, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he might be up to. And Sid’s not like Kris. He doesn’t revel in the punishment aspect of being a dom. Kris knows for a fact that Sid’s not enjoying whatever’s going on in his room at this hour any more than Geno is, and the fact that Karl is winking about it just makes the ire in Kris’s blood boil that much hotter.

“Find someone else,” Kris grits out. “I don’t share. It’s in my contract,” he adds and then tugs again at the door, hard enough that it must hurt Karl’s foot, still propping it open.

“It won’t be for the whole night,” Karl goes on, apparently unmoved by the vitriol in Kris’s voice. “They’re getting another room for me, it’s just not ready yet. Just thirty minutes. Maybe forty-five.” Then, unbelievably, Karlsson gets an elbow into the crack of the door and starts to pry it open.

“So wait in the lobby.” But Kris’s counteroffer goes unheard.

For one wild moment, as Karlsson genuinely wiggles to squeeze himself through the gap and into the room, Kris feels like he might actually physically stop him. There's a familiar thrum under Kris's skin, his hands twitching with the need to grip Karl’s arm and twist it. They’re the same height, and Karl is strong. Kris would need to use his whole body to shove Karl out, or maybe, against something, the closed door, or a wall. Kris would shove him, and Karl’s head would thunk against the wall, except he’d like that, probably, would smirk at Kris about it, and then he’d—

Kris snaps back to himself just in time to see Karl hanging his garment bag up in the closet, making himself right at home. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to have noticed Kris’s short bout of insanity. He just sits at end of the other queen bed, the remote somehow already in his hand.

“Are you watching this?” Karl asks, then doesn’t wait for answer, just flips through channels faster than he could possibly keep up with.

Read the rest on Ao3

[princesscolumbia]

Ānzhuōniichuan - Chapter 1: That Butterfly Died a Long Time Ago

Thankfully, this particular idea is not a megawork waiting to happen, just a novel's worth of ideas and arcs that came to me while I was putting the finishing touches on Double Isekai ch. 9.

Summary:

Thousands of years ago, long before anyone keeping records even knew of the place, Jusenkyo created one of the more exotic pools in its repertoire. This pool would go unnoticed and undiscovered...until an idiot hauls his son through China under the guise of a martial arts training trip.

Notes:

As of the time of posting, all Romanized Chinese is provided via Google Translate, which we all know sucks. If you know enough Chinese to spot and make corrections, please do so in the notes and I'll make the adjustments as I get the chance. Note about pronouns: Kickin' it old-school with this one; When Ranma's (and others with gender-related curses) in male form, male pronouns will be used. Similar for female form and pronouns. There's simply going to be too much going on at various points in this to provide the necessary cues via narrative at all the places to show which body they're in without breaking the flow. (Plus, and this is a teeny spoiler for something that comes up later in this fic, Ranma is gender-fluid and bi for this one) (...I know, I'm writing a Ranma that's not a purely Sapphic transwoman? Me?! Who'd have thought?) Oh, one more thing; this has a single change to the established Ranma 1/2 canon timeline. Yup, just one. Good ol' butterfly effect means that this one change means a LOT of little differences crop up over time, and the change happening thousands of years prior means that there's a LOT of these little oddities. If you're reading and say, "Wait, that didn't happen that way..." it's specifically because of the one alteration cascading through time. ...claiming full credit and ownership of the OC, though. 😎

Preview under the cut:

"Pops, get yer furry ass BACK HERE!" shouted the now cute, short, and girly martial artist. Not cute! Rough and tough and manly, damnit! The ground they were running across was shifting, which made sense. The entire valley was littered with spring pools, it wasn't surprising that the soil would be loose. That said, she and her currently panda father were far too skilled as martial artists to let some loose topsoil hinder them.

Surprise human male to the face...not so much.

Ranma's one real thought as she took a human person's mass to her torso and head was, Hey, he looks familiar! just before he impacted with her. She felt them both slam into the weak soil and the entire surface started to shift. Thinking quickly, she grabbed first a handful of grasses, then a handful of the shirt the other boy was wearing and held on as what turned out to be the embankment of a bluff, not quite a cliff but close to it, that overlooked a section of the Pools of Sorrow. She felt her shoulders nearly yank out of their sockets as gravity hauled the boy down into the valley. Remembering the abject terror she experienced not minutes before as she surfaced from the source of her own life-altering change, she was not going to let that happen to anyone else if she could help it. "Grab on!" she shouted, "Hold on to something!"

The boy (Why does he look so familiar?!) shook his head to clear it and looked around before looking up at her, "It's fine, I'm a martial artist. Just drop me, I'll land in that water down there."

"Nononono!!! You do NOT want to land in that water!" she felt more than heard the grass she was gripping in her other hand starting to tear. She may have a fairly sizeable handful and her grip was trained by no fewer than four obscure martial arts her old man had dragged her to over the years that focused on weirdly specific stuff like that, but grass was grass was grass and this wasn't going to hold up under their combined weights. "Trust me," she practically shouted, "Falling in this water is very bad!" She glanced around herself, trying to find anything that would give her purchase to keep them from taking another dunk. Unfortunately, when the ground beneath them gave way, not only did it break off some of the bluff and take them down with it, the remaining earth, an almost wet clay from what she could tell, was angled away from her. She was basically being held aloft by tearing grasses and her wrist as she held the training ground's next apparent victim over what looked like a fairly out-of-the-way pool. Right over it. As in, even if she managed to swing him somehow, she wouldn't be able to get him far enough out to avoid landing in the water.

"I can swim, it's okay, really! Don't hurt yourself on my account, miss!"

"I'm not a 'miss,' you idiot!" At his baffled expression, she started getting a little frantic and it was coming out in her voice, cracking an octave higher than she liked, "I woke up with a dick and no boobs this morning!"

He seemed to get it, at least enough to react the way she intended him to, eyes going wide. Unfortunately, just as he was raising his hands to grab onto her wrist, his shirt tore. In Ranma's defense, it looked like it was an older shirt that had seen one too many days on the road.

Ranma felt like time was going in slow motion as the boy fell to the water. This particular pool didn't have a shoot of bamboo sticking out of it, so that potential fall hazard was, thankfully, not there. On the other hand, if he was a martial artist like he said he coulda grabbed the pole...not like it matters now... As the splash pattered to the ground and surface of the pool, she realized that this particular pool wasn't as deep as the one she had fallen into...not that it made any difference in the end result. Huh...I guess there's two girl springs...? she thought absently. The freshly minted girl made her way slowly to her feet, water coming up to about her thighs. The torn shirt was substantially more filled out in the chest than it had been previously, and the girl's previously black hair was now a shockingly pretty green color that somehow looked right on her and made the black and yellow bandana on her head stand out in a very cute and attractive way. Well, at least the springs make some real lookers, she thought. "Oh, jeeze!" she hollered down, "I'm so sorry!"

The girl looked up and Ranma could swear her eyes kinda flashed at her, but that was probably a trick of the light.

Just then, the guide managed to run down the path between the springs. "Mister customer...! Oh, another customer! Not need run so much! Was going to..." the man clearly wasn't nearly up to Ranma's fitness level as he stopped and huddled down, hands on his knees as he struggled to catch his breath.

As though everything else that happened weren't enough, she heard the sound of the grass tearing further and had just enough time to say, "Oh fu~!!!" before she felt gravity get its revenge and yank her down. She managed, by sheer dint of the training her father had put her through, to reflexively grab onto the one thing between her and the pool, which was the other teen's backpack. She found herself practically wrapping around it like a particularly affectionate vine, not wanting to test what happens when you fall into two pools on the same day.

Which was, apparently, a valid concern. "Aiyah!" gasped the guide, "Mister customer be very careful! If fall into two pools the..."

...which was exactly when the straps on the backpack, sized for the brick of muscle and bone the other girl had been not five minutes before and not the willowy (if well endowed) form the other teen had now, chose that moment to fall off her shoulders and drop Ranma in the fairly shallow water.

As she surfaced (not hard to do, she merely had to sit up...though that task was made a little harder by the surprisingly heavy pack that planted her firmly on the spring's floor), she heard the guide say with a very disheartened voice, "...curses mix..."

"Oh, gosh, I'm sorry!" came a voice that sounded light and willowy as a hand reached down and hefted the pack from Ranma's body. This freed up her hands so she could rub the water out of her eyes and she looked up and saw the new face of the other teen...and found herself oddly transfixed, even if just for a moment. It wasn't quite like when she saw a pretty girl and her heart skipped a beat, or at least it was different enough from that feeling that she could identify it as different, but it wasn't anything she could remember feeling with anything or anyone else before.

"'S'okay, it aint like I didn't already take a dunk. Guess I'm just now double-girl or something." She took the other new girl's offered hand and together they waded their way to the dry bank.

"Very strange, not sure what spring customers fall in..." the guide's words trailed off as he scratched his head.

Ranma looked back to the pool and then at the guide again, "Aint it just another girl spring or somethin'?"

The guide shook his head, "Customer no understand; only one of any type of spring in all valley." He pointed at the spring right next to the one they had fallen into, "That Spring of Drowned Pig, tragic story of pig who fall into spring and drown over 400 year ago." Both Ranma and the other girl looked at the still water with alarm and very deliberately moved to stand over next to the guide, "No be another Spring of Drowned Pig until this one dry up or get buried and another pig drown in different, fresh spring. Mister Customer," he indicated Ranma, "Already fall in Spring of Drowned Girl, but I not see this spring before," he pointed at the still rippling waters, "Look like bluff fall, uncover spring, I think? Not happen often, but surprised spring not buried when bluff fell."

"Well, whatever," she sighed, "I...need pants. Can you get me back to my pack? And, I dunno, maybe help us find a cure or somethin'? We're both supposed t'be guys."

"Ah, yes! Mister Customer and other customer run away before I could explain; curse only part time. You always be cursed, but get normal body back with hot water." The two girls blinked owlishly at him, so he clarified, "Cold water now turn you into cursed form," he waved up and down at their new bodies, "Hot water turn back into mans. I have kettle at home, will change you back."

They both heaved a sigh of relief, "Well," said the new girl, "It aint a cure, but it's not as bad as it could be."

"Oh, gods!" exclaimed Ranma, "I thought I was stuck like this forever! Lead the way, sir, I need pants!"

(Read the rest at AO3)

[nolita-fairytale]

just a little sneak peek from the bear fic that has consumed my brain for the past few days

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

warnings: lots of swearing, use of she/her pronouns, allusions to sex, eventual smut, no use of y/n, second person pov, mentions of death/mikey's suicide

a/n: hi hello this is just a preview. i wasn't going to write a fic about hulu/fx's the bear, and this story has taken over my brain. i also made reader a pastry chef and um... well, clearly so has everyone else, so while i'm hopelessly unoriginal, please enjoy. i'm hoping to post the full ch. 1 tomorrow. if you haven't watched the bear, this show if exceptional but heavy.

“Well, man, I’m glad to hear you’re doing alright. Sorry I haven’t called. Things at the restaurant have been… well you know how it goes,” Carmy’s old sous chef explains, a sigh of exhaustion escaping his lips. 

“Yeah, yeah. No, I-, you called now. Yeah… I uh, never thought I’d be here but… things are…” Carmy trails off. 

“Yeah.”

And then there’s quiet. It’s almost as if his old sous is waiting for him to ask the question – the question they both know he’s been asking in every silence, every pregnant pause left between them. 

Carmy weighs his options. He doesn’t know why it feels like he’s showing his whole hand if he asks if he asks about you. Not like anyone in the kitchen didn’t notice. 

You were best friends after all. Spent all your time together. 

Inseparable.

And then there was that night. 

The night you both agreed to forget but one he can’t seem to. 

He wonders if you think about it too.

And now? Now that the fog is starting to clear… now that the restaurant has a little money… and he can think for a fuckin’ second…. 

“How’s uh… how is she?” Carmy finally manages to get out. 

“You haven’t heard?” his sous asks, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. 

Carmy is silent for a moment, his head swimming with anxiety. What was he going to say? Carmy braced himself to be metaphorically punched in the gut, waiting for what came next. Why was he so sure that whatever his sous said would upset him? 

“Uh-, um, no I-. We haven’t talked much since I came home.”

“Ahhh.” 

Another silence, before the man on the other line clears his throat before continuing with, “Yeah, she uh, well you’ll never believe it but she quit.”

“She what?!”

“Yeah, I think everyone was just as surprised, man. Something about being burnt out and needing some time to find-, well, I don’t know but…” he trails off. He knows that any advice that he gives Carmy will not only be unsolicited, but that there’s a slim chance he’ll actually take it. “Restaurant keeps saying she’s taking a sabbatical. Think they’re still hoping she’ll come back.”

“You should give her a call.”

And it’s as if Carmy can’t get off the phone fast enough. 

“Yeah, I uh-, thanks man. It was really good talking to you.”

And that’s how you ended up here, at six fuckin’ o clock in the morning. 

Chicago isn’t as hot as NYC in the summer. But the heat — or lack there of — isn’t why you’re here either.

Honestly, you’re not sure why the hell you’re here. 

Get out of dodge. Something about needing to find meaning. Because you could never really say ‘no’ to Carmy. 

Because… Carmy.

[halliescomut]

Masterpost (Under Construction)

It will likely take quite a while to get this off the ground, so please be patient.

I will also be slowing instituting a new tag for my meta posts (because if I had been using one all along this would be infinitely easier). Said tag will be #HallieSMeta.

Until there's something more interesting to look at here, please enjoy Jeffrey being a little punk:

Look at this motherfucker!!!! How dare he be so goddamn adorable!!!

Be aware that many of these posts are written months apart and so sometimes information is repeated...it happens.

KinnPorsche

KimChay MixTape- This is my post-canon KimChay fic- as of 10/10/23 it's at 88k words and will probably be 100k by the time I wrap things up. The links below are lil preview posts I do when I update. This is the Google Drive link to the first 3 chapters (which is a complete arc in itself. Otherwise it is posted on AO3.

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11 Ch 12 Ch 13 Ch 14 Bonus Chapters

KP Season 2 Unhinged Wants- these are a bit of an amalgamation, but all original posts should be link here as well and will be posted as I start to curate.

KP Week 2022: Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7

Meta-Posts:

Kim-Vegas and Main-Minor family relations: 1 2

Porchay: Post Break-up Behavior

Acting: Tong and Jeff

Porsche & __: Hugs Vegas Queer awakening (?)

VegasPete Sad Hours: 1 2 3 4 5

PrettyBoy ship (TankhunTay): 1 2

Kim-Hannah Montana theme song Kim-Kimhant-Wik

Masquerade Ball: KinnPorsche Pete Bodyguards

Pete and Morality

Theerapanyakuls and musical instruments

Jeff Satur Music

Song Theory part 1

Lucid MV Discussion

Lucid costar-Nene

You can also search the tag 'jeff satur menace' to see many posts of Jeff looking handsome as fuck.

BL Industry Musings

2022 BL opinions

Colorism Fanservice Assumption of Queerness

Faux Incest in BL

BL Botany 1 & 2 Jeff

My Personal Weatherman

Mashiko Atsuki appreciation

No-subtitle watch throughs (eps 3-8): 3 4 5 6 7 8

Ep 2 Ep 5 Yoh's drawings 1 Yoh's drawings 2 Finale thoughts

Minato's Laundromat S2

Midseason check-in I have feelings Amnesia trope

Asuka and Shu

Our Dining Table

Please watch this show: 1 2 3

Costuming Analysis

Kiseki: Dear to Me

Ep 5 Ep 8 Ep 9

Mame/MeMindY BLs

Love Sea: Intro to characters

Boy Next World: Intro to story and characters

Wedding Plan: They met as Children Lom Nuea

Love in the Air

Payu & Rain Conspiracy Theory

1 year Anniversary video

Sky becoming soft for Prapai

Pai/Sky oneshots

Prap-Eyes gifset

We were robbed

Prapai/Sky and boundaries

Prapai & Reformed Rake character type

Sky/Prapai thoughts

Episode 8 thoughts

Sky in the One Night Stand

Noeul’s acting

Rain is not a bad friend

Payu and having his hair down-hair care as a show of affection

Love in the Air is a Character-driven story

Naughty Babe

Ep 4

Tadaima, Okaeri

Eps 1-3 kind of intro

Ep 4- Meta discussion, discrimination allegory?

Ep 5- Meta discussion, portrayal of parenting

It's not letting me add the links right now, so I'll try again later.

Stray Kids

Social Path MV Analysis

Hallie is TOO honest on Tumblr:

Broad backs

Discovering my Asexuality

Human Imperfection

[bullet1ni]

IN Wonderland Ch. 1:

praying can’t save this

pairing: prince!jeongin x female executioner!reader (feat. changbin (and possibly some other idols in the future))

word count: 4k

🔒warnings: heavy violence, graphic scenes, blood, mental illness (if you look), mentions of sex, violent!reader, unstable!reader, wonderland au, just an unnerving vibe in general, mentions of being suicidal, reader eats a lot in one sitting, some science-y things i made up, wonderland au, sci-fi/fantasy au, (edit: i've also decided to classify this as hardcore angst)

author's note: justice for jeongin fics. also, this probably has some mistakes even after fifty billion proofreads and i just wanted to post this already

click here for the series spotify playlist

⚠️!Minors and sensitive readers proceed with caution!⚠️

Please don't copy or repost my work.

click here for the series masterlist

Preview:

As you pushed him away from you, the man gave out a cry of surprise and pain and clutched at his throat. When he pulled his hands away, they were stained dark red. At his throat, a sharp, clean, streak of scarlet where your knife had cut. 

“How dare you speak as if you know an inkling of who I am?”

“Please!” The man before you screamed, writhing uselessly against his restraints. You watched the tears stream down his face in cold detachment. “I’m innocent, I swear! I’ll do anything! No, please-” He choked on a sob as you turned away from him to face the crowded execution hall.

You and the man were standing - well, he was kneeling, you were standing - on a brightly lit flagstone floor. The execution block where the man was cuffed was dead in the center and all around the floor, rows and rows of benches extended up towards the vaulted ceiling, like an arena. These were filled with cheering townsfolk and commoners, screaming and excited for blood. Above the regular seats was the upper level reserved for the Spades, the queen’s gardeners who carefully and painstakingly grew and painted her beloved roses. At the very top were the boxes, where the Diamond courtiers sat on plush velvet couches and were served sweet drinks and dainty pastries from the royal kitchen. But the grandest and most-looked-at sight in the hall besides the execution floor, was the queen’s observation balcony. 

It jutted out of the wall, bringing it closer to the executions than any other seat in the room. Upon it sat the heart-shaped, blood red throne of garnet and gold where the Queen of Hearts sat watching, flanked by a group of Clubs dressed in bright red armor. Your eyes flicked up to the box, watching as the queen and her group of advisors leaned forward, watching the hysterical man with sadistic glee. 

Directing your gaze to the two Clubs who flanked the door leading onto the execution floor, you beckoned with two fingers and they started towards you. Then, glancing up at the queen’s box, you looked at the judge who stood at attention beside the throne and gave an almost imperceptible nod. He stepped forward and cleared his throat.

“Ahem.”

The babble and chatter of several thousand spectators quieted.

“Welcome, citizens of Wonderland. We are gathered here today for a most glorious and sacred occasion. A mission, a duty, of the highest purpose.”

His voice filled the room in a strange way, with an almost tangible presence. This was purposeful, of course; the acoustics of the execution hall were specifically designed to amplify all noise, to add to the atmosphere. The crowd, equal parts impressed and in awe, burst into rapturous applause.

The judge cleared his throat and the crowd quieted down again.

“Before you stands a criminal, guilty of such crimes worthy of death. Treasonous words against her majesty the queen, trespassing amongst her most private quarters...” 

You tuned him out as he droned on. Instead, you turned to the two Clubs who now stood at attention beside you. One of them held a large cushion covered with a silk cloth. You fingered the corner of the silk for a moment as the judge concluded the list of charges.

"And now, I present to you - the Executioner!"

A spotlight fell upon you and you allowed the crowd to take in your figure, clad in red armor and helmet.

You grasped the cloth and tugged it firmly away from the cushion, revealing the axe in a most dramatic fashion. The sudden gleam of silver caused several people in the front rows to clap their hands over their eyes.

The blade of the axe had been polished to perfection so that you could see your warped reflection in the steel. The light reflected off of it was blinding.

At the sight of the weapon, the promise of blood, the crowd burst into the customary cheers and excited applause. Handing the cover to the other guard, you gripped the handle of the axe and lifted it off the cushion. The familiar weight of it settled comfortably in your grip and you felt a surge of powerful satisfaction in your chest.

When you stepped away from the guards and turned to acknowledge the crowd, you were met with a thunderous roar of approval.

“Off with his head! Off with his head!” They crowed. Your face remained passive and you turned away from them, stalking towards the execution block with leisurely, unhurried steps. It was all in the build-up; the suspense was what made the crowd go apeshit.

You stopped beside the silently shaking man and looked down at him with a face void of emotion. 

“Off with his head!”

The crowd roared, louder than ever. You cocked an eyebrow and tilted your head up towards the queen’s balcony. The cheering swelled as she stood up from the throne and walked to the railing. She looked around fondly and gave a dainty little wave.

“Off with his head!”

The noise was deafening, the crowd egging her on. The queen’s painted face spread into a manic grin and she threw her arms open and closed her eyes as if basking in the moment. Then, her eyes flew open and she pointed down at you. You met her frenzied gaze. 

“You hear them!” She bellowed thunderously. “OFF WITH HIS HEAD!” 

And you lifted your arms above your head and swung down on the man in misery and relieved him from it.

There was a thud and a squelch and a crimson spray. The man’s head made an ugly sound against the ground, blood splattering across the flagstones, and the crowd screamed their approval. Without looking behind you, you turned your back on the decapitated body and the head and walked off the floor, silently handing your axe to one of the Clubs. The other one opened the door for you and it swung shut behind you.

The noise was muffled immediately, the effect not unlike that of plunging your head underwater. Blood rushing in your ears, you reveled in the relative quiet and the sound of your footsteps echoing off the walls of the tunnel as you made your way out. The tunnel sloped gently and you approached a second set of doors, also flanked by two Clubs. They held the door open for you and you passed by without acknowledging them.

You emerged in the dungeon. It was a dark, dank, moldy-smelling basement. Prisoners squatted or lay in their little cells where they awaited their:

1. trials (maybe)

2. deaths (definitely) The hateful gazes of the prisoners seared into the side of your head as you made your way between the cages towards the exit, refusing to meet any of their eyes.

“Look who it is,” a bald, vicious-looking man leered at you from between his bars. You continued past, ignoring him. “The executioner. 'Tis the fate that awaits us all,” he raised his voice for the other prisoners to hear. “Take a good look. Death at the hands of this child.” The other prisoners growled. “The queen’s champion toy. The prince’s whore.” The other prisoners chuckled. You slowed.

“And that’s all you’ll ever be,” he called after you, sensing weakness. “The queen’s little puppet, and the moment the prince tires of you, you’ll be kicked to the brothels where you belong.” Prisoners roared with laughter.

"Actually," his voice turned mock-thoughtful. "No, not really." His voice lowered and darkened simultaneously. "Not really," he hissed, "because you'd be dead the second that you stepped out of these walls. Killed by the families of all the people that you've killed. It will be a fitting death for you."

You knew inside that you should continue on. You had heard worse accusations from within the castle itself, but coming from a lowly criminal, whom you had never met in your life, assigning you labels and claiming to know you? You allowed yourself this moment of weakness, this crack in your facade. You allowed yourself a little shred of release. Lunging for the man through the bars, you gripped him by his collar and pulled him against them hard enough to leave a bruise on his cheeks. 

“What did you say?” You whispered, dangerously low. You flicked your wrist and a knife fell out of your sleeve and into your hand. The blade ghosted across his neck and landed against his jugular vein.

“That's the way you deserve to die. In shame and without honor, just like all the good men and women you've murdered.” he whispered triumphantly. You shook him violently and he swore as his head was bashed against the bars again. 

“I kill criminals, who committed crimes knowingly. I ought to kill you where you stand.” You watched in satisfaction as the man panted and wriggled at your words.

“You have no idea of the things that I have done to stand here.” Cold fury rose within you, the edges of your vision tinged black. You leaned in close to his ear. “Is that what you think I am? Is that why you think I am here? Because of the prince? I have done things you can only imagine and endured what you cannot even begin to fathom. If you knew even half of the truth…” 

As you pushed him away from you, the man gave out a cry of surprise and pain and clutched at his throat. When he pulled his hands away, they were stained dark red. At his throat, a sharp, clean, streak of scarlet where your knife had cut. 

“How dare you speak as if you know an inkling of who I am?”

In the safety and solace of your quarters, you tore off your red ceremonial armor and chainmail, and the cape embroidered with the Heart coat of arms. They made loud clanking sounds when you dumped them on the floor of your parlor and two maids silently scurried to pick them up. Slumping into one of the plush, heart-shaped chairs, you shut your eyes.

“Camille?” You called out. You heard the quick, pattering footsteps of your lady-in-waiting. 

“My lady!” Came the breathless reply. “Forgive our - forgive my unpreparedness." She stood before you, cowering. "I'll have your training attire prepared quickly.” You opened your eyes. 

“It’s alright. I’m earlier than expected.” You always tried to be as friendly as you possibly could to Camille and the rest of the maids, but there must have been venom in your voice, because she looked at you uncertainly. You cocked an eyebrow and she hurried away into the dressing room. Letting out a long breath, a not-quite-sigh, you pulled off the leather boots on your feet. 

You were braiding your hair when Camille returned. Fingers deftly finishing off your second braid, you stood and took the clothing from her. She gave a slight bow and left. Stripping yourself to your underclothes, you pulled on your training clothing.

A bodysuit in the richest shade of Heart red. It stuck to your skin as if it was part of you, giving you full range of motion. You had been told that the special material regulated body temperature and absorbed sweat.  Laceless leather boots, bleached and dyed to a matching red. You looked dangerous, every part the queen’s champion. 

Turning to leave, you passed the mirror without looking into it. No point. Your own appearance was ingrained into your mind, from the portraits of you in the hallways, from seeing your reflection in the blades of your knives.

“I’m heading to train,” you called out to Camille. Before a response could reach your ears, you were out the door. 

You hated the arena. It was an oasis, it was a prison, it was a nightmare. It smelled of floors scrubbed clean of blood a hundred times over; to no avail, because blood and despair and pain were in the very essence of the place. It was in the air, in the walls, in the racks upon racks of weapons. It was the place where you slowly ruined yourself over the course of years, done things so terrible until you weren’t sure what you were. Certainly not human; certainly not any being with a soul. And then you returned to this place again to drown yourself in sweat and exhaustion - to forget what you were and the blood on your hands.

“Lady y/n.” You snapped your head towards the voice and saw the captain of the Clubs, General Seo Changbin. He had taken over his predecessor’s role as your trainer ever since he was appointed three years ago. Three years and you had never once spoken to him. Only followed his orders, to run faster, jump higher, punch harder. He doubled down on you with no sympathy, but that was alright with you. The more tired you were, the more painful it was, the better. 

Changbin clapped his hands and in marched twelve armored Clubs, each carrying a sword and shield. You turned your head to look at them. They were closely followed by an army of medics carrying stretchers. You counted thirteen in total. You looked back at him.

“Today you will spar these Clubs.” He gestured towards them with his head. “They are twelve of my best. The fight ends when one side is unable to continue. Both sides have permission to draw blood. Arm yourself with weapons of choice.”

You looked carefully at the twelve Clubs for a moment. Not Eights. The number of white Clubs on their breastplates marked them as Tens. You turned and headed into the weapon vault. 

It was a room adjacent to the arena, filled with shelves upon shelves of weapons of all sorts. From standards: knives, spears, bombs, guns, to some that gave you more creative freedom: a rope, tape, a large horseshoe magnet, boxes of matches. 

Knives would work best for this one. The weak spots in the armor were sparse and few and miniscule, because they had been designed by the prince, the greatest mind in all of Wonderland.

You slid two knives into hidden pockets on either side of your hips and several more into the concealed belt sewn into your suit. You picked out the last pair to hold in your hands. After ensuring that all the knives were secure and invisible, you reentered the arena. 

Changbin looked you over once, face as unreadable as ever and gestured you towards the center of the floor where the twelve Clubs were lined up, four rows of three. You approached them and stood at the ready.

“The lady will initiate the fight. Start when you are ready.” Changbin called from the side.

You felt the familiar rush of blood in your ears, drowning out all other feeling. Your muscles relaxed perceptibly and you felt a sudden urge to laugh, like you were high. But you didn’t. You just adjusted your grip on your knives and mentally went over your strategy. Pierce through the weak spots (armpits, backs of the knees, chins), limit their range of motion, then take them out.

One by one.

Easy enough.

You looked at the Clubs. They had not moved. So you started them off, to get a sense of their strategy. You took a step towards them. The effect was instantaneous. They fanned out, quickly surrounding you on all sides, shields up, spears pointing at you.

You waited. 

Finally, you heard a soft, telltale clink from behind you. With lightning reflexes, you whipped around just as a Spade broke rank and lunged towards you.

Thirty minutes later, everything was going well. The medics had carried away nine of the twelve Clubs. There was a long gash on your cheek where a spear had raked you and you were pretty sure some of your ribs had cracked. You had all but two knives left. You set your sights upon a Spade who was limping from a knife in the back of his knee.

You dodged a thrust from his spear and jumped into the air, arms above your head to bring a knife down on him. He lifted his shield above his head and your knife sank into it with a hollow thud. Landing quickly, in the second he let down his guard, you grabbed his spear and shoved the butt as hard as you could into his gut. He lurched backwards with a groan. You pounced, slipping your last knife from the belt you shoved it up into his chin, twisted, and pulled it out. 

He crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath as blood gurgled and dripped from underneath his helmet. 

You whirled around, only to feel a white-hot, searing pain tear through your body from your left side. You turned your head to the side and saw another spade, one that you had stabbed in the arm, holding onto the spear which was now impaling you.

A wave of disappointment washed over you. Stupid, rookie mistake. Always keep track of every hostile. As you mentally berated yourself, the dark, black, agony crashed into you again like a tidal wave. You wobbled and fell to your knees. Your face contorted in pain; you hadn't felt such pain, such blinding, such horrible pain in years. You hadn't done this poorly in years.

The Spade had discarded his shield, which would have been a fatal mistake had you not been preoccupied with the other one. He shoved the spear deeper into your side and you gritted your teeth. The feeling of your body hitting the ground registered vaguely in the back of your mind, the mind-boggling agony being at the forefront of your consciousness. 

You lay there on your back, fighting the black that crept along the sides of your vision. Changbin’s blurry face materialized above you, as icy as ever.

“Abysmal, my lady.” You stared blankly at him. His face betrayed no emotion. Your mind was becoming hazier and so you waited patiently as the pain settled in, until the darkness finally swallowed you.

The first thing you noticed was the tingling. A gentle buzzing sensation throughout your entire body. Then, the exhaustion. It hit you like a truck, and you felt your consciousness almost slip away from you.

With a great effort, your eyes fluttered open.

You were lying in a revival chamber, an invention of the prince’s. It was a glass coffin of sorts, filled with a clear liquid, thicker than water, like syrup. You floated in it, naked, submerged save for your face. The liquid was another invention of the prince’s, an artificial stimulator for your cells, speeding up their life cycles by hundredfolds, that entered the body through the skin. The buzzing sensation was a side effect. 

A medic’s face appeared through the glass, peering down at you, then disappeared again. A moment later, the top of the chamber was opened. You sat up stiffly, and glanced down at your side. The spot where the spear had punctured you was smooth, as pristine as it had been before, if a little sore. 

The medic helped you out of the chamber into a robe, and sat you down on the examination table. She picked up a syringe from a tray.

"My lady, the recovery formula." She held up the syringe.

You held your arm out to her and she jabbed the needle into your arm with expert, robotic motions. You felt some energy returning to your body.

“My lady, we'll ask that you stay in the revival ward for a few more minutes, until the residual stimulator has been absorbed into your skin.” You nodded. “The prince will be arriving shortly to do a short, follow-up examination of your condition. He will release you if all is well. We suggest that you ingest as much food as you can afterwards to help your body recover.” You did not reply.

Of course. Every visit to the revival ward always came with a visit from the prince. It was not procedure for him to personally attend to revivals. Only yours, for some reason that you could not understand. The medic left you to your thoughts.

You had known the prince for your entire life. He was the only other child that had grown up in the castle, the only other person who had even an inkling of understanding what your life was like. Because while you had been forced into becoming the queen’s executioner/personal bodyguard/assassin, the prince’s skill set was a bit different from yours. 

He was a genius. It was discovered when he had turned seven, and shortly thereafter, he proceeded to propel science in Wonderland at an alarmingly quick rate. To say the queen had been delighted was an understatement. He quickly became the middleman between her and her twisted fantasies, unleashing a new level of sadism within her. 

You heard the sound of the door being pushed in, footsteps moving towards you. You looked forward, absolutely still, ignoring him.

At her command, he had created a mutant for her. A group of genetically enhanced people. Her personal guard, the Eights of Clubs. They were all tall, handsome, obedient, with superhuman strength. They were also extremely well-endowed, even unnaturally so, to satisfy the queen’s sexual urges. On many nights, her loud sounds of pleasure filtered through the halls of the castle.

The sound of disposable gloves slapping against skin filled the silent ward.

After his success with the Eights, as they were called, she ordered him to create more. He was given access to all the prisoners, whom he experimented on. He combined them with animal and insect DNA, reversed their aging processes, turned them into monsters.Then when you were twelve, after killing a mutant that had escaped from his lab, the queen had the clever idea of making you fight them for her entertainment. And about then was when your life started becoming what it was today.

The prince moved into your line of sight. He approached you, staring directly into your eyes. You stared back. His tortured yet beautiful face, sharp nose, heart-shaped mouth, his eyes. Desperate eyes, unhinged eyes, I’m-doing-my-best-not-to-cry eyes. He sure did take the pain differently than you did.       

You killed mutant after mutant, not quite animals, not quite people, more like monsters. You noticed nauseously that they seemed to become especially human right before they died. The queen requested methods of death; it became her favorite pastime, coming up with the goriest, most painful methods of death for the mutants. You put on these secret shows for her, but the screams of pain- sometimes yours, sometimes the mutant's- were hard to mask. Rumors formulated and circulated throughout the castle, rumors of your and the prince's involvement in some sort of agreement with the queen. Like this, you and the prince, barely thirteen, were thrust into the cycle.

You and the prince, barely thirteen, were eaten alive by self-disgust and abject horror.

Whereas your coping mechanism turned you into a soulless shell of a person, he didn’t. He simply retreated into his own brain, into his lair of a lab, drowning in his work a little more everyday. Personally, you were of the opinion that he would go mad like his mother. You wondered how he would use you when he did. But for now, he was still able to display emotion in moderation, he was still kind to the best of his ability, he was still alive. 

“Y/N.” It was a curious tone of voice. Soft and flat -  emotionless but gentle.

“Your highness.” You saw your reflection in his eyes. 

“You broke two ribs and practically destroyed your spleen and liver. You suffered a serious concussion. You were in an emergency chamber for several hours, there was so much internal bleeding." His eyes searched yours. "This is getting dangerous.”

“I have full confidence in your abilities and technology, your highness,” you monotoned. “Your genius is unrivaled in this realm and-”

“Y/N, stop.” He cut you off. “Don’t, don’t you start that garbage with me. We're beyond that, you and I.” He puts his thumb and pointer finger several millimeters away from each other.  “You were this close to dying. It wasn't just scrapes like normal!” These emotional displays of his always irritated you to no end.

“Your highness, I’m deeply sorry to have troubled you. I assure you, this will never happen again. It was an unusual mistake on my part, I promise-” You were interrupted again. 

“Y/N,” his voice lowered back to its normal volume. “Y/N, don’t lie. I’m not an idiot. You’re not an idiot. I’ve had you in here far too many times for this to work.” You saw a veil lift momentarily over his eyes. He looked at you, pleading. “I’m asking you to please stop, stop training like this. You’re cutting it too close, I can’t go on like this. You can’t go on like this.”

Something in you snapped quietly. You gave him a look of disgust. 

“Who are you to tell me what the fuck I can or can’t do, Jeongin?” You hissed. Quietly, biting, with eyes narrowed. “You said so yourself, you’ve had me in here so many times before, I’ve never had to put up with your pathetic complaints before. What’s the difference?” His eyes darkened with annoyance. 

“The difference, Y/N, was that you nearly died this time! I didn’t tell anyone, I’m the genius, I’m supposed to know what I’m doing, but this time, I was working in the dark! Blindly! I was praying for you to make it through alive!” His voice rose again.

“Oh, praying were we? Why are you so stressed out about this?” You sneered at him. “What’s it to you whether I make it through alive or not? Maybe I want to die, hmm?” The veil that had lifted from his eyes momentarily seemed to settle down again. 

“It matters because you are a symbol of power to our people, and an important member of the court to my mother. Your death would be catastrophic, politically and within the castle.” He said. He looked at you stubbornly. 

“Don’t you lie to me.” The previous angry fire in your voice had gone out. Now you were only tired. “You only want me alive so you don’t have to be the only one who suffers the way that you do.”

There was no reply from the prince at that. He only backed away a few feet and turned away from you.

“Fine. I will tell General Changbin that all training activities and scheduling must run through me for approval first.” You stared at the back of his head, a multitude of emotion rising to your chest. First anger, then panic, then realization. You knew that allowing this to happen was a bad idea. A very bad idea. But you were tired. So tired. Your body had recently come out of overdrive from recovering from your injuries and you had very little energy. You felt the last shreds of will leave you. 

“Whatever. Suit yourself, Jeongin.”

He turned with his face stony. 

“Now the exam, Y/N.” 

“Fine.”

return to series masterlist//next chapter

okey dokey this was my first writing post, thank you to those who gave it a chance and made it to the end 🤗

feedback+REBLOGS+suggestions+CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM(!) would be very much appreciated :)

btw if someone wants to beta read these for me, send me an ask! or if you have any questions, comments, or anything else!

xoxo

Seren

[lasagnaboxlesbian]

LBL's Master Post 🩷🧡💜✨

For convenience's sake I thought it would be a good idea to have a pinned centralized post for all my fics, so here we go!! (please be sure to read any additional tags/warnings on the fics themselves!! ❤️):

PREVIEWS:

my heads in heaven, my soles are in hell (let’s meet in the purgatory of my hips) [T] - M/M, steddie, demon!eddie, internet café, 90s AU - [preview]

ONGOING WORKS:

i think i’ll call her on the phone (or am i better off alone?) [T] (41k words, Ch 6/11) - F/F, ronance, season 1 rewrite, neighbours, comphet lesbian Nancy - [link] [tumblr preview]

something about the way you're looking at me (something very special) [M] (37k words, Ch 16/?) - F/F, ronance, mystery, University AU, academic rivals - [link] [chapter titles 12-16 reveal]

COMPLETED (new to old):

fight the pain that holds us back [T] (1k words) - F/F, barb/chrissy, hurt/comfort, afterlife - [link]

ignoring the young women (what is this dilemma of the heart?) [M] (43k words, Ch 6/6) - M/M, steddie, fake dating, roommates/housemates, 2000s AU - [link]

admitting you're wrong is only half the battle [T] (2k words) - M/M, steddie, angst, season 1, canon compliant - [link]

moonlight in your eyes, sunlight in your smile, and all the stars inbetween [T] (1k words) - F/F, barb/chrissy, hurt/comfort, afterlife - [link]

i wish i knew you sooner, but i have the rest of our (after)lives to learn all about you [T] (2k words) - F/F, barb/chrissy, hurt/comfort, afterlife - [link]

i stole your name, but you stole my heart [M] (4k words) - F/F, ronance, spies/secret agents, secret identity - [link]

with all the (fish n') chips down, i'd still bet on you [T] (3k words) - M/M, steddie, modern day, public transit AU, chess metaphors - [link]

Checkmate or Soulmate? [T] (2k words) - M/M, steddie, modern day, public transit AU, chess metaphors - [link]

SERIES:

in the afterlife, you make me feel alive again [T] (3/3) - F/F, barb/chrissy, afterlife, healing - [link]

on the edge of reality, i'd fall for you [M] (1/3) - Multi, steddie, ronance, expanded universe of the fake dating roommates/housemates au - [link]

LBL's Bollywood-verse Collection [M] (3/?) - Multi, ronance, steddie, otherwise unrelated compilation of fics inspired by bollywood movies - [link]

The Steddie Gambit [T] (2/?) - M/M, steddie, public transit AU, chess - [link]

[substituted-shinigami]

We… We have a lotta fun here xD

Channel Update!!!

Hello Everyone!!! Despite the, uh…rather silly presentation, I really have been working super hard on some fanworks in the background, and now I’m proud to finally present to you the “We Can’t All Be Winners” Fall Season Schedule! Plus I've got some previews for you to boot!!!

Let’s take a look!

"We Can’t All Be Winners" Fall Season Schedule plus FAQ and Previews!!!

(this post is already kinda long, (and is about to get a lot longer) so I put the rest underneath a tag xD)

October

Oct. 7th - Tiger Robe (fanfiction, renruki & Ichigo, hurt/comfort)

Oct. 14th - Three Times I Dreamed of You (fanfiction, renruki, some angsty longing but also fluff)

Oct. 21st - Who is Ichigo? (Karakura Gang Comic!)

Oct. 28th - Night Scare, Morning Care (fanfiction, renruki, hurt/comfort)

November

Nov. 4th - Double Feature! Bleach Book Club - Letters From The Other Side (light novel overview) + Roommates Assemble (Rukia & Ichigo + Karakura Gang drabble + fanart)

Nov. 11th - Bubble Tea (fanfiction, renruki + Yoruichi, slice of life, fluff)

Nov. 18th - Peaceful Day, Peaceful Night (fanfiction, renruki, fluff)

Nov. 25th - Commercial Break - Pocket Renji (Comic/fake ad)

December

Dec. 2nd - Bloodlines - Learning to Breathe (L2B) Prologue & Ch. 1 (multi-chapter fic, renruki, hurt/comfort, some angst, some humor)

Dec. 9th - L2B Ch. 2

Dec. 16th - L2B Ch. 3

Dec. 23 - L2B Ch. 4

Dec. 30 - L2B Ch. 5 & Epilogue

And that’s it! Yeah, Ichigo wasn’t kidding, it really is mostly just RenRuki fanfiction, haha!😅 Now I'm sure you all have some questions like: Wait…What is this?! Why is this?! How is this?! When is this?! And Where is this?! And I'll do my best to answer them in the FAQ below!

FAQ

Wait…What is this?!?

“We Can’t All Be Winners” or “WCABW” started out as an anthology series of RenRuki one-shots I started back in January. It contains a handful of stories featuring Renji, Rukia and occasionally others, and puts them in different scenarios, some of them canon-compliant and some of them in alternate universes. Originally, I planned to write and post one story a month, but I quickly fell behind. So I took a break and reassessed and decided to try posting in “seasons” instead. So now it’s a season of weekly uploaded fanworks to be posted from October to December, and will feature a variety of Bleach related content such as fanfiction, fanart, fan comics, bleach light novel overview, and, when I’m able to write one, a multi-chapter fic. All the fanfiction will be available on both Tumblr and AO3, but the rest will only be available on Tumblr (sorry!). Once this season is completed, I will mark the AO3 work as “completed”, and if I can do this again next year, I will start a new one!

Why is this?

Like most people, I originally planned to create and post fanworks whenever I finished them. However, I eventually found keeping up with a social media account stressful. Something about it makes you feel like you need to post all the time, even when no one else is pushing you. So I thought, hey, why not have a season! That way I have a predetermined end goal AND I don't feel like I gotta post outside of it! Plus if I feel like I need to just step away for a break (which I will most likely be doing once the queue starts running), it won't affect it since everything is already queued! So yeah, that's the idea behind it.

How do you plan to post this on AO3? It doesn’t have a queue system!

Yeah, that is a problem. My current plan is to have a tab open for each story/chapter I need to post, and then will just press the button to post it on the day it’s due to come out (or within 24 hrs). This will probably mean that the Tumblr post will link back to the table of contents of WCABW on AO3 rather than the chapter itself, so I would like to apologize for that in advance. I’ll try to fix it whenever I am able, or at the latest, when I become socially active on Tumblr again.

When is this?

Every Saturday from October 7 to December 30th at 11 am EST here on Tumblr, and within 24 hrs (either before or after) on AO3 (I'll try to make it before, but life happens sometimes). Now obviously this is no real substitute for the Bleach anime, not even close! But Saturdays were already a convenient day to post, so I thought, "Hey, why not?!" And just pushed the joke all the way!!!

Where is this?

Right here on Tumblr and on AO3 (links provided). On AO3, the one-shots will be posted under the We Can’t All Be Winners anthology series of one-shots that's already on there (if you haven't seen it yet, why not check it out? It already has some of my other one-shots on there!) The multi-chapter fic will have its own posting.

I have some questions/comments/concerns!

No problem! My ask box is always open! Now to be honest, I will be on break starting in early October, but I'll answer any I don’t see before then when I am able/get back! Also, if you are a part of the RenRuki discord, I may be checking in there from time to time even while on break.

And that’s it! Thank you all so much for reading this needlessly long and very silly announcement for Bleach fanworks of all things! To thank you for making it to the end, I added some previews for some of the upcoming works!! I hope you all enjoy!!! xD

PREVIEWS!!!

(Note: works are subject to minor changes)

Three Times I Dreamed of You

Chapter Summary:  Nightmares are always terrible. But they are made even worse when you aren’t even able to talk to the person that they are about. (RenRuki, some angsty longing but also fluff)

"Rukia!"

Renji awoke with a start, sweat dripping down his brow. He whipped his head around wildly, as he mopped off his forehead with his sleeve. He was alone, utterly alone. Quickly he reached out with his spiritual pressure to feel hers, his heart pounding loudly in his ears. Finally, he found her, a tiny cold gust on a frigid winter night. It felt so impossibly far away, but… it was enough. Renji left the Eleventh Division barrack's dorm and climbed on top of the roof to feel it better.

******************************************

Tiger Robe

Chapter Summary: While shopping with Ichigo in the World of the Living, Rukia finds a tiger print robe that reminds her of someone from her past. (renruki & Ichigo, hurt/comfort, Starts out in the Soul Society Arc, but then jumps around a couple of times)

“Okay, we're here,” Kurosaki Ichigo began as they entered the clothing store, “The women’s section is in the back.  If you need clothes, I don’t mind buying you a set or two, so can you just please stop stealing Yuzu’s?!? She’s starting to get suspicious…” But Rukia wasn't listening to him. Instead, she was looking around the store, completely enthralled.

“Woah! This is incredible!” Rukia replied with wonder, as her wide eyes flitted from one brightly colored clothing display to the next, “And you can afford such garments on your allowance alone?” Ichigo raised an eyebrow at her in response.

“Yeah…? It’s just a cheap department store, Rukia.”

“Incredible…” she muttered to herself again as she continued to look around the huge, lively store with a mixture of awe and nervousness. Several people passed them by, chatting as they filed in or out of the entrance, and loud music played on the speakers overhead. 

This is nothing like the open markets that sold only rags in Inuzuri, she thought, And once I got adopted by the Kuchiki Clan, the tailors came to me. I don’t think I’ve been to anything even resembling a regular clothing store since the Academy. There is too much choice! What should I…?

Rukia could feel Ichigo’s concerned eyes on the back of her neck. Quickly, she stood up straighter, and turned towards him.

“You said, I could get whatever I wanted, right?!” she asked with a devilish grin. Ichigo sighed heavily as if he was immediately regretting both this decision and his entire existence. He scratched the back of his head.

“Within reason! I’m not rich, you know," he scowled, "You can get one everyday outfit and one sleepwear, that’s it!” With that, he set off across the store.

“Ah! You're so stingy, Ichigo!” Rukia teased as she followed after him.

“Keep talking smack, and I’ll make you shop in the children’s section!”

“I might anyway,” Rukia mused, as they passed by a pair of child’s pajamas with bunnies on them, “children’s clothes have nicer prints.”

“Whatever,” Ichigo replied, “Wear what you want when you sleep, but when you are out and about, try to wear typical 'teen clothes'. Otherwise people might get the wrong idea when we are walking together.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rukia dismissed with a wave of her hand. As they continued walking along on their way to the back of the store, passing from the children's section into the men's, Rukia’s eyes were caught by a brightly colored robe. Turning towards it, she felt taken aback when she beheld the largest, tackiest tiger print bathrobe she had ever seen. Suddenly, she felt like she was thrown back over forty years…

******************************************

Bubble Tea

Chapter Summary: Relaxing is difficult when you are so used to fighting. Now that the Winter War is over, Rukia and Renji shoot the breeze and talk about the future. (renruki + Yoruichi, slice of life, fluff, During the Fullbringer Arc timeskip)

“Hmmm… Getting to know you without the fangs of death constantly nipping at our heels feels…weird,” Rukia commented suddenly, and a little too casually, one day as she sipped her bubble tea. Renji coughed in surprise. That or he got another tapioca pearl stuck in his throat, Rukia wasn't too sure.

“H-Huh?!" he spluttered, after he had finally begun to recover. 

"Well, think about it," Rukia continued, as she settled her cup down beside her upon the park bench. She began to list things off on her fingers, “First it was surviving in Rukongai, then Aizen's betrayal, and then the Winter War. Whenever we were together it felt like our lives were in constant mortal danger. That it was us against the world. But now…now there’s no real threat.”

"Oh yeah…" Renji agreed, looking up to the sky in thought, "I guess, you're right…huh." 

“Yeah," Rukia went on as she picked up her cup again, "The only other time it was seemingly this peaceful was when we were separated."

At that, Renji was silent for a moment, before asking quietly, "Kind of makes you wonder whether or not we're cursed, huh?" Rukia turned to look up at him, but Renji continued to stare up at the sky. 

"If we are cursed," she began slowly, "then whoever made it, absolutely sucks at making curses,"  Renji quirked an eyebrow at her as she turned back towards her tea, "Curses are meant to make you the most miserable, but despite the dangers, I'm always more miserable when we're apart." Renji stared at her wide-eyed as she went back to sipping her tea. 

******************************************

Learning to Breathe

Story Summary: Turns out purple eyes and short stature aren’t the only things that run in Hisana’s family, illness does as well. As Rukia and Renji try to help each other navigate through this new storm in their lives, will they remember to take time to breathe? (multi-chapter fic, renruki, hurt/comfort, some angst, some humor, Post TYBW, Rukia gets the same disease that killed Hisana. (Bloodlines AU))

Here’s a scene from chapter 1:

I faced an execution. I faced an espada's blade. I even faced a man who could literally murder me with fear. And yet, tiny medical needles are too much for me? You are utterly ridiculous, Kuchiki Rukia…  Rukia thought glumly to herself, as she laid in bed one chilly morning before yet another doctor’s appointment. She began chuckling wryly, I've heard the pen is mightier than the sword, but I think the medical needle might be mightier still. 

Rukia stared up at her bedroom ceiling, the sound of the room's clock ticking loudly in her ears. She'd been laying there for hours as sleep frustratingly eluded her. Sighing, she tried rolling over and closing her eyes again, but she couldn't shut out the anxious thoughts that plagued her mind.

I really hope today’s tests don’t have them. If I can’t get through these appointments without stressing out everytime I see one, then I’ll never convince him that he can rest, because I’ll be okay. That it will all be okay in the end. Hopefully…

Suddenly, Rukia’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the alarm on her soul pager going off. Again. Rukia’s hand shot out, flipped the infernal device open, and managed to press the snooze button for the third time that morning without even looking at it. She went back to staring up at the ceiling.  

Guess I better get up now, huh? Can't keep putting it off, after all… My friends, my brother, and…Renji… they’re all so worried about me, so I can’t… I can’t be weak… I must be strong for them.

Rukia sighed, her stomach already all up in knots. Taking a deep breath to center herself, she forced herself to sit up. As she looked out her bedroom window towards the sky, she saw that it was pitch-black, that even the stars were blocked out by clouds. 

Hmmm… Looks like a storm is rolling in too… Figures…

Rukia slowly pushed off her blankets and got up to search for her clothes. She thought about just wearing her black shinigami uniform, but she already knew neither her third seat nor her escort were going to let her go back to work this afternoon. Speaking of her escort…

Rukia left her room, a neatly folded dark blue kimono tucked underneath her arm, and approached the door of the guest room next to hers. She lifted her hand to knock, but paused.

I could just leave without waking him… she thought briefly, Let him sleep in. Gods know he needs it. That way, when I make it through the appointment on my own, he’ll see he has nothing to worry about! But she quickly shook herself. No! No, I don’t do that anymore! I don’t just run away... I talk about it. We talk about it. And even if we can’t figure it out, we still do even that together. Rukia took a deep breath, glared resolutely at the door, and knocked.

“Oi, Renji, you awake in there?” She heard what sounded like a groan to the affirmative. “Okay, just so you know, we’ve got to leave in an hour.”

“Mhmm… Yup. I got you,” he responded groggily. This was soon followed by the sound of very fast shuffling, a very loud bang, an almost as loud curse, and then more shuffling. Rukia raised an amused eyebrow at that.

“You good in there? All your limbs still present and accounted for?”

“Ha ha. Very funny. And yes, I’m fine. Thanks so much for your concern.”

“Of course!” Rukia smirked. However, the heavy feeling inside her soon dragged the corners of her lips back down. She took another deep breath. Here we go… "Oi, Renji…" she began quietly, "If you are too tired, it's okay, y'know? It's like I said before, it’s basically just a long doctor's appointment. I'll…I’ll be okay going by myself." 

At that, Rukia heard the stomping sound of footsteps coming rapidly towards her, followed by the shoji door immediately sliding open with a sharp bang. Renji looked rather frazzled, with his sleeping robe half hanging off of his shoulder and his hair loosely pulled into a messy braid. He also looked rather cute…at least until he started shouting.

“WHAT? NO! OF COURSE I'M COMING WITH YOU, IDIOT!”

“QUIET, RENJI! ARE YOU TRYING TO WAKE UP THE ENTIRE HOUSEHOLD WITH YOUR RACKET?!?”

"You are way louder than me!" Renji replied in his terrible attempt at a whisper, "In any case, don't try to change the subject like that. You are downplaying it again, I know it. They are running medical tests today too, and I know those tend to make you nervous.” He managed to actually say that last part quietly. Then he smiled at her, “We're in this together, ya?" His lips might have been smiling, but Rukia saw his eyes. He was exhausted. She felt her heart lurch into her throat.

"Ya, well…don't go overdoing it, okay?" Rukia told him firmly as she fixed his robe for him, but her fingers lingered on his shoulder. Renji placed his hand over hers.

"Hmph… As if I could ever do too much for you… I'm fine, Rukia, really. Go get changed."

"Okay…" she murmured quietly, looking down. However, her face must have betrayed her troubled thoughts, because when she tried to remove her hand from his shoulder, Renji held it firm. She looked back up at him and he tilted his head down closer to hers.

"I love you~" he whispered to her in a cheeky sing-song voice with that toothy grin of his. He was clearly trying to lighten the mood, to make her smile or push him off and call him a dork, but instead Rukia felt her heart, already firmly lodged in her throat, leap even higher into her mouth.

“I know…” she barely got out, “I know Renji, but…”

“Uh uh. No ‘buts’, Ru. Go ahead and take your bath. I’ll see you in an hour, alright?” He winked and let go of her hand as he cheerfully went back into the guest room, closing the door behind him. 

Rukia, on the other hand, just stood there, staring at the floor.

************************************************************************

And that's it for the previews! If you somehow made it all the way to the end, thanks so much for reading! The "We Can't All Be Winners" Fall Season starts next week! Hope to see you there!

[uptoolateart]

All the Missing Pieces - New Fic

The first sequel to Breaking Free is LIVE. I’ve posted the first 2 chapters today, to give a feel for the structure of the fic.

PREVIEW from Chapter 2:

Students milled in the courtyard, talking before classes started. One by one, every head pivoted in Adrien’s direction and the conversation died a swift death.

His chest tightened. This had been a terrible idea. Maybe he could just drop out. Resume home schooling. Nino’s parents had jobs, but they could hire someone to teach at the mansion, just like Gabriel had done, all those years.

The idea was developing into a delicious fantasy of isolation, when suddenly there was Marinette.

‘Hey, kitty,’ she greeted him under her breath as she captured his hand in one of hers.

‘M’lady,’ he returned just as quietly, and they shared a smile full of the secrets they shared.

There were others who knew those secrets, though not many. Nino. Alya. Rose. Juleka. Zoe. Luka, though he didn’t attend their school. It was a relief to know there were a handful of friends they didn’t have to pretend for. But there was still the rest of the world.

Alya, beside Marinette, moved in to give Nino a morning hug, taking him away from Adrien.

Marinette stepped in towards Adrien and leaned her forehead against his. Once, she had been so shy, hardly able to string a sentence together. Now, she gave him this gift of affection while fellow students walked past, watching – whispering.

‘You got this,’ she murmured in a voice just for him – a voice that made those three words mean so much more than they had when Nino had said them. ‘You and me against the world, remember?’

Of course, he remembered. ‘Aren’t I supposed to say that?’

‘Yeah, well. That’s when I’m the one breaking down.’

He pushed his hands under her arms, hugging her around her waist. ‘You think I’m breaking down?’

‘No. But you might, if we don’t kick this right away. Want me to summon up a lucky charm?’

He shook his head against hers. ‘You're my lucky charm.’

‘You’ve always been so cheesy, kitty.’ He heard her smile in her voice.

‘And you’ve always been too proud to admit how much you love that about me.’

‘True.’

‘So, what’s the plan?’ he asked. ‘You lead and I follow, right?’

‘Uh-uh. Never again, kitty. We’re partners. Equal partners. I’m never shutting you out or keeping secrets from you again, as long as I live.’

Read at Ao3

At 14, Adrien stepped into the time burrow and saw the truth no one could have guessed. When he came out, he was changed forever. And after defeating his father, he was finally free...or was he?

At 37, Adrien has everything he ever dreamed of – married to Marinette, three kids, the hamster – but none of it has turned out as expected. Marinette’s career is such a success that she’s never home, Hugo is an angsty difficult teenager, and Adrien is still struggling with his secret identity as a sentimonster.

And now, Lila Rossi is back after more than 20 years. But has time changed her? Or is she up to her old tricks?

***Alternating timelines between age 37 and ages 14 upwards, this is the first of a series of sequels to Breaking Free (summary in Ch 1 end notes). This new fic is fully written. The one after is planned out and will be from multiple POVs. The one after that…well, the mental cogs are spinning, and I’ll figure out the details along the way. I opened a massive can of worms with something in Breaking Free, and it’s all spiralling hard, people. Enjoy the chaos!*** 

No archive warnings apply - Teen+

Tags:

I might be writing this series until I die

Sequel

Adrien’s POV

Unreliable Narrator

Multiple Timelines

I needed a spreadsheet to plan this

Set in the future

Aged Up

Post-Monarch’s defeat

Post-Reveal Pre-Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug

Sentimonster Adrien Agreste

Existential Crisis

Bonding with Felix

Pining over Marinette

Heavy Angst

Also humour!

Marital Drama

Parenting Drama

But I promise Adrinette will work things out

Self-Discovery

Healing

I had too much fun with the Lila scenes

Occasional swearing but nothing gratuitous

Occasional sex but nothing graphic

Nothing worse than anything I've read in any other book marketed for teens

[sheerrandomnstuff]

A Tangled Summoner - Chapter 1

At night in Tokyo, a lone schoolgirl dressed in a school attire wearing a bowler hat lies at a park, with no memories of her previous life. As she begins to wake up, she surveys her surroundings to find that the place she was at didn't seem familiar to her at all.

???:"What happened...Where..am I?"

As she starts to get up from the ground and dust herself off, a masculine, gruff voice coming from her head under the hat spoke.

???:"So you're finally awake, huh kid."

???: "Samson, is that you?"

Samson:"Who else, Filia?"

Samson, Filia's hair parasite occupies her own head, and acts as her hair, with yellow eyes and sharp teeth, with an abnormally long tongue if he ever stuck it out.

As Filia begins to walk along the gravel path of the park, she questions Samson about their whereabouts.

Filia:"Hey Samson, do you know this place?"

Samson:"Hell if I know, kid. All I know is that we're not in New Meridian anymore, that's for sure."

Frowning at this, Filia ponders and then ask,

Filia:"Then how did we end up her..",

but before she could finish her sentence on wondering how her and Samson arrived in this strange new place...

???:"Oof!!"

Filia:"Ahhh!!"

Someone had bumped into her, sending both Filia and the person flying onto the ground, with her hat coming off.

???:"Oww...What did I bumped into? Ah, s-sorry! I don't know who you are but are you okay!?"

As the person comes towards Filia to help her up and return her hat towards her while brushing away the dirt on it, she notices that he was also wearing a school uniform that she was unfamiliar with, with a chubby body and physique, and matching amber hair and eyes to boot.

Filia:"Oooh..."

Groggily standing up, Filia wanted to thank and ask him who he was and why did he bump into her, although Samson had other ideas about asking this kid who the hell does he think he is, bumping into his host like that? He's going to teach this brat a lesson. But before they could voice their opinions..

???:"Human...Human...flesh!!"

A large, red orc carrying a big club, wearing nothing but a colored loin cloth appears and approaches towards them.

Filia:”A..a..A monster?!?”

Samson(Thinking): What the hell?!?

???:"Ack! We got better stuff to do right now! Let's get outta here!"

Grabbing her hand and running off, the boy drags Filia towards places where he believes that they would be able to escape from but...

???:"Ugh...there's nowhere else to run! I was just trying to take a shortcut to the station and I had to run into a stray Transient!"

Red Oni:"Grraaaagh!!!!!"

???:“Ekkkkk!!!”

Filia:“Oh no!!”

Samson(Thinking):We're doomed.

As the Oni approaches towards them both closer, the boy moves forward towards the Transient, which shocks both Filia and Samson.

???:"Stay back! If you're not a Transient yourself, you don't stand a chance against one!"

Filia:.....

Filia, touched and inspired by his kindness and bravery for trying to protect her, walks forward in front of him, challenging the Oni herself instead.

Filia:"Why don't you take on someone your own size?"

???:!?

Red Oni:!?!

As everyone is shocked by Filia's comment and decision to stay back and fight rather than run away, Samson begins to whisper to Filia about her decision.

Samson(Whisper):"Filia!! What are you doing!?! You should have taken the kids' chance to bail!!”

Filia(Whisper):"Sorry Samson, but you know I'm not that kind of person, and I can't just leave him. Not after when he tried his best to save me even though he was afraid, and just now when he tried to selflessly offered to sacrifice himself to make sure I was safe, even though that's something I won't ever let happen in the first place, not when we have the power to fight back. Not when we have each other."

Samson(Whisper):"Great..just great...there's no talking you outta this one huh?"

Filia(Whisper):"Sorry Samson, but we're going to protect him."

Hearing how determined Filia was about this, Samson grumbled, and following with a resigned sigh answered,

Samson(Whisper):“Fine. Let's take this big guy down together, since it’s been a long time since I’ve let loose, so this should be fun. When you're ready kid, just say the word.”

As the oni prepares to charge towards the the pair to attack, he bellows out,

Red Oni:“You get in way? Then I eat you first!! Grrraaaaarh!!!!”

What happened next though was something both the Oni and boy didn’t expect, as Filia calls out Samson’s name with confidence, as he burst out of the hat, destroying it in the process.

Filia:"Let's go Samson!!"

Samson:"Hell yeah!!"

???: “Huh!?!”

On the other hand, regaining himself rather quickly, the Oni declares,

Red Oni:“It no matter...who you are….I will defeat you....and then eat you!!!”

Samson:“Just try it, bub!!”

{Skullgirls OST #6 - Moonlit Melee} ‘Ladies & Gentleman It’s...SHOWTIME!!!’

The Oni charges towards Filia with the club in hand, ready to smash her into a pulp as Filia meanwhile goes down on the ground in a relaxing position with Samson digging deep into the surface below, creating a twisting spike of hair that come out of the ground right in front of the Oni, catching him off guard.

Filia:“Surprise.”

Samson:“Ringlet Spike!!”

As the Oni was off-balanced, wasting no time, Filia calls out to Samson, for the next set of commands.

Filia:“Let’s go!!”

Samson:“Got it!! Airball!!”

Grabbing her by the left ankle, Samson flips Filia over into the air and quickly cocoons her by transforming into a spiked, razor-sharp ball of hair that travels in the air straight towards the Oni, landing multiple hits just below the collar bone. As Filia emerges from the ball, Samson quickly transforms once again into a giant spider and grabs the Oni before he hits the ground, lifts and throws the Oni up into the air, only to grab him once more as he comes back down and slams him onto the ground as hard as possible.

Samson:“Widows Peak!!”

Red Oni:“Guh!!”

Throughout the battle, the mysterious boy watches on in awe as he mutters to himself,

???: “Just who are you?”

As the Oni lays on the ground, without missing a beat, Filia lifts up her right leg in the air as Samson covers it with her hair and spins, turning her leg into a deadly drill, and just before descending down onto the Oni,

Filia:“Please make sure not to kill him Samson.”

Samson: “I know. I’ll try.”

With that, Filia declares her final command to finish the fight.

Filia:“I’m ready!!”

As those word left her mouth, Filia quickly plunges down right onto the Oni, who upon impact, let’s out a mighty roar.

Red Oni:“OOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

‘It’s Super Effective!!’{End Track}

After the battle had ended, Filia with a worrisome look and a guilty conscience, removes herself off on top of the Oni and proceeds to check him for the puncture wound that she might of left during her last attack, believing that her and Samson may have gone too far judging from the scream that the Oni gave out, but before could she get started, she seemed to notice that the Oni was now...glowing…???

Red Oni:“Urrrgh...”

Filia:“Ah!”

Red Oni: “I wanted to find...and serve master…even...at cost...of sanity…But now...I die..in unknown land.”

Hearing this, Filia felt immense sadness and regret for the Oni, and also berating herself for the role that she played in harming an innocent individual who just wanted a place to belong, which she emphasizes with, as she doesn’t remember her own life before Samson. Realising this, she extends her hand and says,

Filia: “Then is it okay..if I became your master instead???”

Samson:“Filia…”

As the Oni lays on the ground as Filia awaits his answer, a few tense moments pass by as the park becomes eerily quiet all of a sudden, until...

Red Oni:“No...you can’t...it..impossible…”

Filia:“Oh….”

Feeling herself deflated, the Oni was now starting to glow more brightly and appeared to be transparent now as Filia now noticed.

Filia(Thinking):What’s..happening?? Is he...disappearing?? If that’s true, then..

Walking and kneeling towards near a top of his head, Filia softly asks the Oni,

Filia: “Would you..at least..let me have your head on my lap...as I..hold your hand, until you disappear...if you want…???”

Red Oni:“...Very well…”

Although the moment didn’t last for long, if only for a few seconds, the Oni’s simple thanks of gratitude before he disappeared in a blinding light, was able to help Filia find solace upon her actions on the Oni himself, if only for a while.

Red Oni:“Ah...I finally go...back home...Thank you..and..goodbye.”

Filia(Softly):“Goodbye…”

With the disappearance of the Oni, as Filia stood up a voice behind her says,

???:“D-did that Stray Transient just disappear?”

Turning around with a somber face, Filia answers the question towards the mysterious boy that she just saved with a somber voice,

Filia:“Yes.”

???: “Hey, are you okay??”

The boy worried, digs into his pockets and takes out a piece of candy which he hands over towards Filia, which gets a smile from her.

???: “Hope this makes you feel better.”

Filia:“Thank you.”

???: “Anyways, I gotta thank you first. Thanks for saving my butt!! I’m Ryota. Ryota Yakushimaru!”

While looking at Ryota’s cheerful, smiling face, Filia couldn’t help but smile as well as she then introduced herself.

Filia:“Hi Ryota it’s nice to meet you! My name is Filia!!”

Character Bio: Filia

Gender: Female 

D.O.B: March 16th

Age: 16

Blood Type: AB

Height: 5'4

Weight: 142 lbs

Likes: eating, coffee, milkshakes, reading and learning, radio dramas, comics, romance novels, and dogs.

Dislikes: Samson’s bluffing and gambling, seeing innocents get hurt, hair getting tangled, being lied to, and side effects of Samson's parasitism.

Fighting Style: Although Filia and Samson are strong, both are incompetent on fighting together as both do not know how to fight. As both of them are aware of this, Filia relies on Samson utilizing her hair to transform into varieties of different shapes and sizes to deliver strong, offensive attacks and quick mobility to quickly overwhelm the opponent, with little to no regard to defenses except for their quick reflexes to block or dodge attacks. With this rushdown rough and tumble style, if Filia is able to land a hit on her opponents, a bad hair day is going to be the least of their worries.

[meltwonu]

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 |     [CHAPTER 20] FINAL

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; camshow, sex toys, shibari, dom!seungcheol, dirty talk, overstimulation/forced orgasms, squirting, degradation, name calling, daddy!kink, gags! 😍💕 ✨HAPPY NEW YEAR!!✨ Here’s to more fun fics in 2021! I can’t believe this is our last chapter though omg 😭 It’s been suuuuch a journey and a privilege to write this little series out! I’ve honestly thought about a camgirl/boy series for like, over a year now, and I’m glad I finally did it! I completed one of my goals! 🥺💕 2020 was definitely a wild one, but I want to thank you all so fuckin’ much for supporting me and stickin’ it out with me all year! Here’s to more in the coming year!💕 Also I was proofreading this at the dining table last night thinking my roommate wouldn’t come out of their room but they did(while I was making dinner and my hands were dirty so I couldnt close my laptop ☠️) and they walked past my laptop and now I’m convinced they saw my fucking smut fic right in the open so yes my little mini-break next week is MUCH needed cause I am ✨embarrassed✨ 🤣 I’ll still do my inbox roundup tomorrow and probably answer a bunch of small thirst posts ‘n stuff throughout the week but there won’t be any drabbles! For now, enjoy chapter 20 🥺, have a safe weekend, and remember that I love you~ ❤️🍒💕

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 COMPLETE

Seungcheol wakes up much earlier than you do the next morning; pressing a kiss to your forehead as you groan and snuggle deeper into your pillow.

“Baby, I need to go run some errands for a little bit, okay? Just keep sleeping, you don’t need to get up yet. But, I made breakfast and put it in the microwave for you when you decide to get up later.”

His voice is muffled and you can barely understand what he’s saying but you nod; a soft sigh on your lips when you drift back into dreamland. He takes his time getting ready, checking his phone notifications as he gets dressed and places a note on the nightstand knowing that you didn’t catch a single word he said.

‘Hey, did you get everything I asked for?’

Jimin🧍🏻: of course, who do you think I am? Jeongguk?

Jimin🧍🏻: and btw, i’m just giving you a crash course okay? We don’t really have a ton of time

Jimin🧍🏻: did you watch those tutorial videos I sent you?

‘Yeah, I did some practice on my breaks, but I guess you can tell me if I’m doing anything wrong.’

Jimin🧍🏻: okee, i’ll be waiting. Don’t get here too late!

‘I’ll be otw soon. Thanks again, Jimin.’

“Ow--damn, okay, you don’t need to tug on it so much!”

“Sorry, I’ll be careful! And why are we practicing on you anyway?! Couldn’t you just have shown me pictures or something?”

“How else will you learn if not on an actual body? It doesn’t work the same way, Seungcheol.” Jimin pauses, checking himself in the mirror. “Also, keep in mind she does have boobs so just… go slow, okay? It’s not gonna sit like this on her.”

Seungcheol blushes a crimson red; biting the inside of his cheek at how amateur he was at this.

“Okay…”

Seungcheol is gone for a lot longer than you anticipate and although he replies quickly to your texts, you can’t help but be curious about where he’d gone and what he was doing.

Especially knowing that the two of you had to film tonight and knowing that everything was up to Seungcheol.

A shiver rolls down your body at the thought and you quickly try to shake off the nerves that seem to slowly invade your body when your mind starts to wander.

“It’ll be fine, I’m sure…”

“I’m home!”

“Where have you--oh, that’s… a b-big box? Um, should I be concerned...”

Seungcheol grins, shrugging as he sets it onto the kitchen counter. “Just some supplies for tonight. I had to go pick them up from a friend but I had to make sure everything was right.” He notices the way you can’t seem to take your eyes off of the box; eyes twinkling when he makes his way towards you.

He tilts your head up to meet his in a searing kiss, lips easing into a smile when you wrap your arms around his neck and melt under his touch. You moan against his lips just before he pulls away; staring dreamily at him while his hands start to roam over your clothed body.

“We have a long night ahead of us, sweetheart. Let’s pamper you a little before then, hmm?”

j__min: ??? where’s the loverboy

j__min has donated $200

angelhan has donated $75

therealchan99 has donated $50

xcaliburDK has donated $75

xcaliburDK: is that the sybian? Haven’t seen that in a looong while

You bite your lip and nod, somewhat shy as you sit alone in front of the camera. “Seungcheol’s still… setting up but he told me to start! I’m a little nervous, to be honest…” Your eyes flit to Seungcheol who rummages through the box in the kitchen and from the angle you’re sat in, you can’t see a single thing he takes out.

Earlier, he’d cooked you your favorite meal and even took the time to give you a full body massage before the two of you cuddled on the sofa and watched a movie. To you, it seemed a little too suspiciously tame and you only found yourself more nervous when he made you drink two glasses of water and ever so quietly announced it was time to start getting ready for the camshow.

“He’s being so suspicious! He was even gone for a few hours earlier today…” You mumble; brows furrowed at the camera before checking the comments.

It still amazed you every time with how much money you and Seungcheol made from the camshows and videos and it made you feel even better knowing that everyone loved the chemistry the two of you had together. There were a lot of video requests and ideas mixed in with the comments at any given time and you were definitely ready to pitch some to Seungcheol now that you’d rebranded your channel to be a couple’s channel instead.

“Almost done, sweetheart!”

gc__koo: he told me to watch cuz he was being suspicious with me too 

gc__koo has donated $50

alphagyu97: what is he even plotting

alphagyu97: i am excited to see the sybian again tho ngl

artist8hao: pretty baby gonna squirt for us again?

universe_WZ: hell fuckin yea let us see how fuckin wrecked you get on that machine

You feel your pussy clench around emptiness at their comments; already feeling yourself getting wetter and wetter with the anticipation.

Movement out of the corner of your eye catches your attention and Seungcheol walks towards the bed with a wide smile and the same box in hand. “Ready?” You can only nod back slowly, watching as he dumps the contents of the box right next to your body.

gc__koo: oy

chwenon: oh shit

sleepy_wonu: oh baby, you’re in for it now

sleepy_wonu has donated $100

Your entire body fills with warmth as you look over the various objects; unsure of where to really look first. “I, um--”

A stack of red ropes sits next to a small bullet vibrator that sits next to a ball gag that sits next to a pair of EMT shears and your eyes immediately flit up to Seungcheol who only smirks back at your shocked expression. “I had some other toys I wanted to use but I figured I should go easy on you, y’know? Since you showed me some mercy last night.”

Nodding, you reach out towards the ropes, touching them shyly. “Why red?”

“Thought they’d be on theme for you, babygirl.”

Seungcheol takes his time; remembering Jimin’s words when he tugs the ropes around your wrists.

“Colour, babygirl?”

“G-green… daddy…”

He nods, sitting up on his knees behind you as you sit on the sybian and face the camera. You bite your lip, somewhat embarrassed that you were already soaking the toy underneath you as Seungcheol worked to bind your arms behind you.

“D--daddy, where did you l-learn this?” You whisper, somewhat curious if this had anything to do with why he was gone for so long earlier in the day.

“Mm, daddy’s friend Jimin was kind enough to help me get the tools and teach me a few tricks to make sure I kept my babygirl safe. Wasn’t that kind of him?” You nod gently, gulping when you shift atop the machine slightly in hopes of relieving some of the growing sexual tension in your body. “Why don’t you thank him properly, sweetheart?”

Your hazy eyes make eye contact with the camera, head tilted slightly. “T-thank you, J-Jimin… for--for helping daddy…”

j__min: omg a shoutout ive made it

kitty_junjun: we never thought we’d see the day

tangerine_kwan: and here we all thought you were gonna be the bad guy huh

hoshi_tiger_xx: like when u only see previews of the book online but the rest of it is different ykwim

Seungcheol makes sure your arms are bound snug enough but not too tight; leaning away slightly to admire his rope work. “Feeling okay so far, babygirl?”

Nodding, you whine back slightly. “Y-yes, daddy… But… my--my pussy wants s-something…” He laughs in return, readjusting so that he’s sitting on your side this time to give himself easier access to start the rest of the bindings.

“Is that so? You’re gonna have to be a little more patient this time ‘cause daddy’s not done yet.” He starts working on the rest of the harness; going slow and checking in with you often to make sure none of the ropes were digging into your skin or making you uncomfortable. “You’ll have to forgive me a little though, I’m admittedly a ‘lil inexperienced so our pretty babygirl is only going to be tied up in this pretty harness for tonight.”

gentleman_josh95: the fact u even took the time to learn just for her

gentleman_josh95 has donated $100

artist8hao: seriously, the dedication

kitty_junjun: we stan a man who knows safety and etiquette 

Comments of reassurance and donations flood in at Seungcheol’s small apology and although the two of you are in your own world; you can tell from just the amount of pings coming from your laptop that they all seemed to be encouraging him.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as Seungcheol continues to move around you on the bed to finish the harness and a smile graces his lips when he starts to secure the last knots in the back. He can’t help but mentally pat himself on the back at how neatly he’d done it for his first time.

“There. All done, baby.”

Your eyes flit to the laptop’s screen to see yourself; cheeks hot when you see how fucked out you already look and he hadn’t even touched you properly or turned on the machine.

The star harness Seungcheol had tied looks pretty with red ropes and you can’t hide your smile at how good it looks on you too either. “Ah, daddy made it really p-pretty… Thank you.”

This time, Seungcheol nods, letting you admire yourself as he silently reaches for the small remote for the sybian, switching it on.

Your entire body lurches forward as soon as the vibrations attack your clit and you immediately find yourself moaning and grinding down onto the machine as he gives you some relief.  

“You’re welcome, babygirl. Now let’s really have some fun, huh?”

You need to cum.

Badly.

“Awww, is my pretty baby drooling? Does it feel that good on your sensitive ‘lil clit?” He teases, smoothing down your hair as you cry around the ball gag in your mouth; drool seeping out from the side of your lips when he raises the vibrations a setting higher.

You don’t know how many times he’d played with the settings and edged you by now, but all you do know is that the urge to cum only grows stronger as you grind against the machine, soaking it with your wetness as you chase the pleasure building up in your body again.  

Surely cumming was okay, right? He never said you couldn’t.

You whimper around the ball gag, eyes fluttering shut when the tension in your body snaps in the blink of an eye and your thighs clamp down onto the sides of the machine. Throwing your head back, you moan against the gag and ride out your high as Seungcheol watches you from the side.

“Mm, bet that felt good, huh? But I know you want something in that greedy ‘lil cunt of yours, don’t you? You want daddy’s cock slamming into your tight ‘lil hole ‘til it’s full of my cum, right, sweetheart?” He licks his lips, turning off the sybian as you slump forward.

universe_WZ: shit shes so sensitive

chwenon: especially with her arms bound like that i bet she’s on cloud nine rn

gentleman_josh95: her cute lil head is probably all fuzzy already from all the sensations

therealchan99 has donated $100

gc__koo has donated $75

j__min has donated $150

All you can do is whimper and nod; teary eyes blinking back at Seungcheol as he smirks and leans in towards you.

“Mmm, you’ll get what you want eventually. But for now, you’re gonna cum again.”

He turns the sybian back on, licking his lips when he sees your body tensing again. It was always easier to get you to cum a second time and his point is proven when you mewl around the ball gag a few minutes later; chest heaving in stuttered breaths as you try to shy away from the toy still vibrating against your overly sensitive clit when you’re quickly thrown into another orgasm.

“You always cum for daddy so easily, don’t you, babygirl?”

Your head feels fuzzy after already cumming twice in such a short span of time but you nod, head lolling to the side as Seungcheol finally turns the sybian off for good.

Seungcheol gives you a second to catch your breath before he’s scooting in and fiddling with the clasps at the back of your head to take the ball gag off.

A thread of saliva connects your lips to the gag and you whimper at how good it feels to be able to actually speak again. “D-daddy…” Drool drips from your mouth as your lead lolls forward and Seungcheol is quick to bring a hand up to keep your head up as he looks into your lust filled eyes.

“Colour, sweetheart?”

“Still g-green…” He nods back, checking to make sure none of the ropes had shifted. “Would you like some water before we continue, baby?”

“Yes, daddy…”

He fetches you a glass of water, tilting it against your lips as you down the entire glass and you find yourself a little surprised at how needed it was. “Thank you, d-daddy…”

“You’re welcome, babygirl. Ready to keep going?”

You nod, a little bit more energized. “I hope everyone, mmh, l-likes the show so f-far~” Your teary vision prevents you from reading the comments and before you can even make an effort to, Seungcheol is already helping you off of the machine and helping you sit on the bed across from him.

alphagyu97: ugh she looks so fucking good in that harness

angelhan: right? That shade of red looks so good against her skin too

angelhan: so fuckin pretty

tangerine_kwan: pics for the private room later? Plz i beg

Seungcheol takes this time to take off his boxer briefs, cock curving up against his abdomen when he’s fully naked across from you. He wraps a hand around his cock, moaning and spreading the precum down his shaft as you watch. “D’you want this, baby?”

Your lips fall open in a silent moan as you watch Seungcheol jerk himself off and you can’t help but squirm. “Y-yes…”

“Tell me exactly what you want then. Let them hear what a filthy little slut you are for me.” You can’t help but feel miserably empty watching him and despite having already cum twice, you want his cock fucking you open and making you cum again.

“I--I--”

“Yes, babygirl?”

“I, ngh, I want d-daddy’s cock… Please? Ah, I--I wanna feel you fucking my--my pussy into the, mmh, s-shape of your c-cock… And I w-want you to c-cum inside my--my slutty little h-hole…”

Seungcheol scoffs, hips shallowly thrusting up into his enclosed fist. “That’s right. You’re just my slutty ‘lil babygirl that lets me use all her tight holes how I please, right? You like it when I cum down your throat and in your pretty ‘lil ass. But we all know you like it best when I cum in your hot ‘lil cunt. Makes you feel all warm and full, doesn’t it? You like it when my cum is dripping out of your spent cunt and sliding down your shaky thighs.” This time you nod furiously as you whine back in response.

“P-please… Can’t wait any--anymore!”

This time, the impatience takes over as you slightly tug on the ropes; whining when they don’t give. “Daddy!”

And this time, he gives in quicker than he anticipates, growling as he reaches for the EMT shears to cut you from the harness. “Don’t let your arms down, no matter how much you want to. You’re going to strain your arms if you move too fast so let me handle it, okay, sweetheart?”

The sudden gentleness in his voice has a giddy warmth pouring over you as you nod and sit still while he cuts at various points of the harness to make the ropes fall loose around your arms and chest. You keep your arms in the same position like he requested and you soon feel his hands roaming your skin and massaging your arms to get the blood flowing again.

“You’re so good for me, baby.” He whispers against your hair, leaning down to kiss your shoulder before he slowly easing your arms down from being folded behind your back.

He continues to massage your arms for a few more minutes before it’s you that’s getting impatient. “Daddy… Can you fuck me now?” Whispering, you slightly turn your body to the side to meet his gentle stare.

Seungcheol laughs under his breath, nodding. “Lay on your back for me, legs spread.”

You follow his orders as you quickly scramble to get into position; legs spread wide for him to situate himself between.

“Mm, your pussy is still so fuckin’ wet. I wanna taste you on my tongue, baby.” Whines spill from your lips as you shake your head ‘no.’

“No! My p-pussy feels empty, I need y-your cock, daddy… ‘n I’m so wet, you can probably, ah, just s-slide your cock in…”

He wraps a hand around his cock just as you wrap your legs around his waist and he guides himself until the head of his cock is right at your entrance.

Neither of you say a word as he slowly starts to sink his cock in; guttural moans on his lips when he meets no resistance and bottoms out in a singular thrust. “Holy fuck, your cunt is so fuckin’ wet. Shit, and so t-tight!” You clench around him, already feeling good with his cock inside of you as you beg him to fuck you hard and fast.

“Ngh, p-please fuck me like--like I’m your, hah, c-cocksleeve… I want it f-fast, daddy!”

He grits his teeth at your words; drawing his hips back before snapping them into you just how you wanted. “Fast, hmm? All you think about in that pretty head of yours is my cock pounding you open, huh? Slamming into you so fuckin’ good, it makes your toes curl when you cum.”

Seungcheol starts a quick pace, already feeling the pleasure building up for himself when you’re reduced to garbled noises and broken cries of his name. The heels of your feet dig into the small of his back as you try to press him in closer and he’s quick to reach for the small bullet vibrator left on the bed next to your body.

“Your body is so fuckin’ sensitive, I can already feel how tight you’re getting around me. So fuckin’ greedy to cum too. Already came twice and you still want more. You’re not satisfied until your whole body is shaking underneath me, huh, sweetheart?” He turns the small toy on, pressing it to your clit as you yelp and let out choked sobs.

“Ah, ngh, d-daddy, my--my clit’s t-too sen--sensitive! I--I can’t--!” Squirming, you feel the pressure building up obscenely quick; bottom lip quivering when he takes one of your free hands and makes you hold the toy to your swollen clit.

“Just a little more, sweetheart. Don’t you wanna cum?”

He angles his thrusts to graze against your g-spot and loud cries of his name leave your lips in a hurried, jumbled mess when he only doubles his pace.

The sound of donations and comments pour in like water and get lost within the ringing in your ears; unable to even warn Seungcheol that you’re about to cum when you feel your entire body starting to lock up underneath him.

Your lips part in a silent scream and your back bows off of the bed, thighs shaking uncontrollably as you cum for the third time. Seungcheol growls, fucking you through it as you squirt all over his lower half.  He finds it harder and harder to thrust into you as you cum, but he feels himself quickly following suit with your warm walls fluttering around his cock.

“Fuck, baby, that’s right. Squirt for me, get me fuckin’ soaked while you cum.” He uses a free hand to make sure you keep the toy pressed to your clit, growling when he starts to unload his cum inside of you. “Mmh, gonna fill your cunt up with what you want, baby.”

A shaky moan leaves your lips as you feel him throbbing inside your pussy; walls clamped down onto him in a vice grip as you ride out the remnants of your orgasm.

“Ah, d-daddy’s cumming suh--so much inside of my p-pussy…”

Whining, you feel Seungcheol’s grip on your hand give way as he rides out his pleasure and you take the opportunity to turn off the small bullet vibrator while he doesn’t notice.

You watch his face contort in pleasure, hips still shallowly thrusting into you as his entire body shivers above you.

“D-daddy’s so h-handsome...” You mumble, cheeks hot when he cracks a smile through the pleasure wracking his body and chuckles under his breath. 

“Thank you, babygirl.” 

After you end the show, Seungcheol makes sure to cuddle with you on the bed for a little while longer.

“One more glass of water, baby.” You whine in response, pouting up at him before he gets up from the soaked sheets. 

“But I already had a glass! If you have a piss kink just say so, ‘Cheol!”

He lets out a boisterous laugh at your comment, trudging back to the bed from the kitchen with another glass of water for you. “You need to be hydrated, sweetheart. You came three times and we played a little more rough today. I just wanna make sure you’re okay.” 

“Fine, but you didn’t deny my comment.” You snarkily reply, taking the glass from him as you down the water. 

“Don’t make me have to punish you again! I’ll have you know I still need to get you all washed up and change the bed--”

A faint pinging has the two of you turning to the laptop; still on your camming homepage from where you’d checked the revenues from tonight’s show. 

A small [1] sits above your inbox and Seungcheol is quick to turn to you with an eyebrow raised. “I thought you turned off the messaging system on your profile?” 

You tilt your head in confusion, handing him the emptied glass. “I did. The only messages I should get are from, like, the actual system admins or other creator accounts which, I haven’t received any ‘til... now, I guess?”

Seungcheol sets the glass down onto the nightstand before he takes a seat next to you, dragging the laptop closer as you go to check the notification. 

“’Love&Letter Films’? Aren’t they one of the biggest adult film companies?” Mumbling, you click on the message, giving yourself and Seungcheol a second to process the message that stares back at you; a shocked smile on your lips.

‘Hello!

I hope this message finds Cherry and Seungcheol well. 

We, at ‘Love&Letter Films’, have really enjoyed the shows and videos from your channel throughout the years and we really have enjoyed watching the growth of your channel and the addition of Seungcheol to it. The dynamics between the two of you are rare in this industry and we’ve yet to see anyone like the two of you in this market. 

The shows from the last two nights have proven that the two of you have the right kind of chemistry to film together for bigger productions and we would love to hire you for a few film productions we have planned in the upcoming weeks as a feeler. Of course, all expenses paid by us if you would kindly take our offer. 

We love the various scenes and roles that the two of you take on with ease and we would love to help propel your careers forward, should you pursue a career in the adult entertainment industry. 

Please don’t hesitate to contact me as I’ve listed my contact information below. I’m excited to hear from the two of you and hope to work with you in the future on many projects.

Respectfully, 

Kwon Soonyoung, L&L FILMS CEO’

[thisweekingundamwing]

This Week in Gundam Wing (Aug 29 - Sept 11, 2021)

That’s right folks!  Because of the long weekend last weekend, you all get a two-for-one this round-up!  Lots of excellent stuff from the fandom the last two weeks, so take a look and show your fellow fans some love!

--Mod LAM

Fanfiction

Dirty Computer (CH 11/?) by @doctormegalomania​ 

Pairings: Heero x Duo, Wufei x OFC

Characters: 5 pilots

Rating: MATURE

Tags / Warnings: minor violence, espionage, unreliable narrator, post-war, reference to past injury, implied/referenced self-harm

Summary:  Years after the war, nothing is what anyone hoped for. Peace reigns supreme.

Man Lion Thing Dude (CH 14-16/?) by @anaranesindanarie​

Pairings: Trowa x Duo, Triton Bloom x Duo

Characters: full cast, original Trowa Barton, OCs

Rating: EXPLICIT

Tags / Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, whump, blood, alternate universe, supernatural, were-creatures, family problems, arranged marriage, mentions of torture, smut, magic

Summary:  Duo Maxwell is estranged from the last of his remaining family who are demanding that he return home for an important announcement. Meanwhile, Duo has been having strange encounters with 'wild' animals, all of whom seem to be hunting him.

The Life of the Immortal Jellyfish (CH 15-16/35) by @lemontrash​

Pairings: Duo x Wufei

Characters: 5 pilots + Relena, Hilde, Noin, Une

Rating: MATURE

Tags / Warnings: post-canon, post-Endless Waltz, UST, roommates, Preventers, slow burn, insomnia, friendship

Summary: Is it chance that lands Duo and Wufei in the same university dorm room? They’re not stupid enough to believe that but too tired to fight it. Duo’s dragged himself back from the brink of going too far and remains teetering on the edge while Wufei’s doggedly trying to prove himself to the ‘good guys’ in the aftermath of the Eve Wars. Sleep and normalcy eludes them both. As they become increasingly aware how damaged they are, they start to edge towards friendship, or something more, but all too soon the peace seems jeopardised by a new and manipulative threat.

Prompt Fic by @gemstonecircles​ for @bryony-rebb​ 

Pairings: Wufei x Sally

Characters: Wufei and Sally

Rating: PG

Tags / Warnings: flashbacks, future fic, tropical diseases, best partners evar

Summary:  “I’d come for you”, he said. “No matter what, when you need me, I will be there.”

Prompt Fic by @gemstonecircles​ for @boxofhatebrains​

Pairings: Duo x Quatre

Characters: Duo and Quatre

Rating: PG

Tags / Warnings:  music, friendships, concerts, foul language, complicated relationships with faith, cherry-picking manga

Summary: “You free Saturday night?”

Prompt Fic by @gemstonecircles​ for @heartensoul​

Pairings: Duo x Relena, Heero x Trowa

Characters: Heero, Duo, Trowa, Relena

Rating: MATURE

Tags / Warnings: REO Speedwagon, future fic, receptions, reunions, getting together, smoking, shotgun kisses, first kisses, cherry-picking manga, FT what FT, look at my life look at my choices

Summary:  The reception, at least, was a welcome reprieve from most of the events that she’d been forced to attend in the last half-dozen years.

Prompt Fic by @gemstonecircles​ for @noirangetrois​

Pairings: Duo x Relena

Characters: Duo and Relena

Rating: Teen and Up

Tags / Warnings: stargazing, criminal trespass, future fic, FT what FT, discussion of panic attacks and mentioned ptsd

Summary:  “Well, guess we’re here until the solar storm clears,” Relena sighed...

Prompt Fic by @gemstonecircles for @seitou

Pairings: Heero x Trowa

Characters: Heero, Trowa, Relena

Rating: MATURE

Tags / Warnings:  1+R friendship, dates, home cooking, future fic, beers, fade-to-black sex, sweet dumb men in love, everyone ships it

Summary:  “I have good MREs that I was saving for a special occasion.”

Katahimikan by @ktsskb / katopiyoon AO3

Pairings: Duo x Quatre

Characters: Duo and Quatre

Rating: General

Tags / Warnings: post-Blind Target, Pre-Endless Waltz, non-confessions, pre-relationship

Summary:  “I’m just taking a little rest,” Quatre smiles. He lets himself get slightly more comfortable, loosening his posture.

Orgel by @ktsskb / katopiyoon AO3

Pairings: Duo x Quatre

Characters: Duo and Quatre

Rating: General

Tags / Warnings:  alternate universe, fantasy elements, established relationship, injured character

Summary:  Duo comes home late with a gift.

Fanart

Doodle Prompts (1x3x5) by @seitou

Heero x Relena (elf AU) by @lokineko 

OZ Military Ball (13x11) by @keiko1183

Zechs and Duo Hairbraiding by @keiko1183

Several by @gundayum

Wedding Bells (3x4)

Snuggles (1x2) 

Trowa’s a Pathetic Clown

Duo as the Little Mermaid 

King of the Hill (Heero, Relena and Bobby/Mariemaia, and Trowa)

Kinbaku WIP (3x5) by @2pcbart

Relena as John Cena by @farshootingstar

Quatre learning to knit by @farshootingstar

On the Wing by @theboringbluecrayon

Snuggles (3x4) by @circusoftrash

GW Crack by @circusoftrash

Heero EW Redraw by @mei-jimenez-art

Relena FT Redraw by @mei-jimenez-art

GW Kiddo Doodles by @lemontrash

Jellyfish Fic Art (2x5) by @sparkchemy for @lemontrash

Summer (1xR) by @alphaikaros

Zechs and Relena by @alphaikaros

Belated MerMay Relena by @serenestorm

Sexy Trowas (Part I, Part II, Part III) by @serenestorm 

Summer Duo by @owlinpajamas

Relena and Heero by @darksharinganz

Other Fanwork

Gunpla and Cosplay

Duo Maxwell Cosplay (Part I and Part II) by @itsjesskage​

HGAC Wing Zero by @macks-mechas​

Headcanons and Discussion

The Accidental (?) Seduction of Trowa Barton (3x4) by @a-river-of-stars

GoL Thoughts with @kittykatz​

Dorothy and Treize, Cathy and Trowa

Treize and Zechs

Treize, Dorothy, Heero, and Epyon

Lieutenant Trant Clark

Other Fun Stuff

GW Sims 4 Portraits by @eslanes​

Power Stances, with Zechs and Treize by @the-reanimated-bhg​

Quick: look pensive with gloves by @the-reanimated-bhg​​

@incorrectgundamwingquotes​ still making us laugh (example)

Memes and Macros

This is my boyfriend’s boyfriend (Rx1x2 and Hx1x2) by @portrayalmuse​

Dad Jokes Zechs (Part I and Part II) by @bonmotfic

Heero’s Romance Novel by @the-reanimated-bhg​

Coffee Puns with Cathy by @the-reanimated-bhg​

Requesting Leave with HR by @the-reanimated-bhg​

Zechs, the master of pick-up lines by @the-reanimated-bhg​

Spaghetti Westerns by @the-reanimated-bhg

Calendar Events

@gwcocktailfriday​ is back with this week’s prompt!  Be sure to post your responses on Friday (September 17) between 3-5PM EST!

@gundamzine has opened up the mailing list, so be sure to register to get your FREE PDF on October 1!  In the mean time, be sure to follow the account so that you can learn about the stellar 2021 Zine Crew members. Also consider donating to the team’s chosen charity, World Literacy Foundation (donations are optional, but encouraged).  In the meantime, check out some of the previews, with more to follow.

September is National Prostate Awareness Month and @expewrites​ and @boxofhatebrains​ are hosting a GW Prostate Health Event at @prostatehealth-gundamwing​ beginning September 1.  More info is available on the Event AO3 Page but in brief, options are to (1) create something or (2) donate to your prostate health organization of choice.

Sign-ups are officially open for the 2021 Holiday Gift Exchange with @thisweekingundamevents​!  Sign-ups close September 30, and participants will get their assignments in October, followed by the creation period November-December and finally posting in early January 2022.

@/ficwip (Twitter) is hosting a “Rise of the Dead Fandoms” event. Contributor sign-ups end on September 30, so be sure to register soon! Creation period runs September-October; posting will be in November. More info at their FAQ.

The @weedgrandpacookbook is an homage to the fanon of Mike Howard as the Gundam Wing’s chillest Weed Grandpa. Check out the Zine Calendar and  FAQ for more info and be sure to complete the interest check before September 30.

Spooky prompt idea generation for the GW Hallows Event will kick off mid-September, and posting period will happen in October.  Stay tuned to @thisweekingundamevents!

Keep an eye on @gwoc-october​​ while you’re at it for news on the GW Original Character (OC) October Event.  You can expect a prompt calendar to go live in September with posting in October…but you can also just use the month to showcase works with your original GW characters!