#shame it's star trek AUs

[quality-on-a-patch-of-awesome]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Trek: Picard Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jack Crusher (Star Trek: Picard)/Liam Shaw Characters: Liam Shaw, Jack Crusher (Star Trek: Picard) Additional Tags: Drinking, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Discussion of character death, Anonymous Sex, Past Relationship(s), Discussion of Violence, mentions of divorce, Guilt, Shame, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Baggage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Liam Shaw Lives, Unhealthy Relationships, Past Abuse Summary:

“Whatever you think you need to say about that night, I swear, you don’t.”

What happens when the guy you hooked up with once walks back into your life and then everything goes to shit? Well, that's been Shaw's life since Jack turned up on the Titan. Now, the two of them finally talk things out

[mollymauk-teafleak]

but I'm more than a need

So. What happened was @minky-for-short told me about her idea for a painter Husk/model Angel AU and things spiralled from there. Enjoy!

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of drug use, alcoholism, mentions of sexual abuse

Please reblog and leave a comment over on Ao3 if you enjoyed!

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Angel Dust had expected this to be easy. Wasn’t it his job to be stared at?

When Valentino had told him his schedule was being cleared of clients two days a week for a ‘special assignment’, his tone had been sickeningly magnanimous, like he expected his star performer to fall to his knees and shower him with thanks at the prospect. And Angel would, if he didn’t know better. 

Being taken off the roster did mean a break from an otherwise endless parade of men with bad breath and bruising hands, reeking of the alcohol they’d needed to overcome their shame at wanting to fuck another man, a break from being so buzzed that he’d disconnect entirely from it all, not noticing how they’d hurt him until he came crashing down. But at least that was the devil he knew, intimately enough to know the taste of its tongue in his mouth. 

Time away from the brothel usually meant that Valentino had something much worse in mind.

So when Angel finally arrived at the address on the card, after trekking across what felt like ten fucking blocks from the spot Valentino had him kicked out of the car, and saw it was an abandoned looking brownstone on a shady street corner, he wasn’t surprised. That part of him that never learned to sit down, shut up and accept his shitty life told him to turn and walk away. 

But whatever was in that house, Valentino would be worse. So he’d gone up, knocked on the door and was thoroughly surprised when a paint streaked, grouchy man appeared, blinking like he hadn’t seen the sun in weeks and growling that Angel was late, did that asshole pimp not know that paint fucking dries? 

And Husker hadn’t stopped surprising him since. 

Angel still rolled his eyes at it. Of course Valentino wanted a fucking portrait of his favourite whore, the creep was probably going to hang it in his bedroom. It was so like him, wallpapering this old money aesthetic over the newly minted wealth he’d gained selling other people’s flesh. Angel wouldn’t even mind that Valentino had made a small fortune pimping him out, or how he spent it, if he didn’t treat him so cruelly. He’d signed on willingly, at first, believing the sugared words and promises of finally being free to fuck how he wanted without shame, of being able to drown the nightmares left over from the war in as many drugs as his body could take. But those promises had dissolved away to nothing on his tongue, leaving his teeth rotted and his nerves shot worse than ever. 

And now Angel’s pain would be immortalized in oils and hung in a gilded frame. 

But at least it would be a proper break. And it would be easy, all he had to do was stand there looking gorgeous, pinned under the gaze of an older man who never had a bottle far from his hand. No different from his usual job except he got to keep his head clear and his clothes on, if the costume Valentino wanted him painted in had enough fabric to count as clothes. 

And it was easy. But not for the reasons he expected. 

There was really only one reason actually and his name was Husker, Husk for short, an odd name but he hadn’t given Angel any other. At first he’d thought it was a good fit, the painter was grizzled, surly, his eyes hard and his tongue sharp, with hands that shook unless they held a brush or a bottle. He was a hell of a far cry from the rich businessmen and upper class bankers who paid for Angel’s time, who tried to impress him with gifts that Val would take and sweet words that didn’t soften their hands any, but apparently his paintings had once sold for thousands. 

Angel couldn’t possibly comment at first, the cramped little studio space had oddly bare walls, but when he’d gotten glimpses of his portrait, he realized just how great Husk must have been back in his day. In nothing more than rough sketches, he was making something almost beautiful out of Valentino’s slightly nauseating ideas. 

Which did beg the question, if Angel Dust was finding this so easy, why was Husk finding it so hard?

“You’re moving again, Legs.”

“Am I fuck…” Angel retorted with a grin, which of course meant he was, in fact, moving. 

“Hey, you want this to look like shit, it’s no skin off my nose,” Husk looked at him over the edge of his glasses, “I got no reputation to maintain.”

“Good look trying to get this to look like shit,” Angel lifted an eyebrow, brushing his hands down the vaguely Grecian drape of silk that was preserving no modesty. The freckles dusting his skin covered more. 

“Don’t underestimate how much I can fuck something up, kid,” Husk grunted, transfering his pencil to the corner of his mouth, picking up an ink brush instead, “I’ve had a lifetime of experience.”

Angel couldn’t help another grin, even as he tried to stay still. That was one of the things he liked about Husk. He didn’t try to be perfect, he didn’t hide his rough edges. 

The way his arm muscles flexed as he drew, looking unfairly sexy now he’d pushed his sleeves to his elbows, Angel liked that too. 

“Next question,” Husk whipped the brush back and forth across the sheaf of paper on his easel, “Think it was your turn, kid.”

Angel blinked, realizing how long he’d been quiet before Husk spoke. It was so easy for his mind to wander here, with the comforting smells of paint and paper, the soothing whisper of sleek bristles on canvas, the warm sunlight streaming in through the windows. And more than anything, the feeling of safety, knowing that quiet here really just meant quiet, come by honestly, not just waiting for the next blow. He’d been embarrassed the first time he’d dozed off in Husk’s studio, his body jumping at the chance for some real rest and shutting down without asking Angel to give the order. 

But after the fourth time of waking up on the battered sofa in the corner with a musty but cozy blanket over him, Angel had found it in him to stop caring. 

But he didn’t want to sleep now. Because as much as he wanted to pretend otherwise, he and Husk were on borrowed time, he was at the edge of this peaceful eye in the storm he lived in. 

The portrait was almost finished, colors starting to appear at Husk’s elbow as the first draft took shape. Soon Angel wouldn’t be needed in the studio anymore, he’d go back to the stage, back to the brothel, back to living under Valentino’s thumb. And Husk would go back to…well, nothing, by the look of his bare, dusty life. The thought made Angel’s heart ache. 

He pushed the thought away, refusing to chew on it. But he wouldn’t sleep away the rest of their time together, either. 

“What kind of music do you like?” he eventually asked. 

Husk chuckled at that, seeming to let his hands create independently, flying across the paper while the rest of him moved at a lower tempo, “Easy, jazz. I used to play when I was younger, actually. There was a club not too far from where I lived, I’d sneak out and go all the time. A guy there taught me, pretty sure just to keep me away from the bar. Looked old for my age back then…and now.”

“Shut up,” Angel perked up interestedly, “What did you play?”

“That’s two questions now,” Husk reminded him, smirking but he answered all the same, “Sax. Was a fun time but I ain’t cut out for being in a band, don’t play nice with others. Realized I was better at making art for the eyes rather than the ears.”

“Makes sense though,” Angel hummed, adjusting the angle of his arm as the silk started to slide, “You paint the way jazz sounds.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he blushed, realizing how dumb it sounded, like he didn’t know shit about art or music. Which he didn’t, but something about Husk knowing that made his face burn. 

But Husk’s eyes brightened, his wry mouth turned up in a genuine smile, “No one’s ever put it quite like that. But thanks.”

Angel had to roll his eyes at himself, just a little. He’d thought crushes were from a time he hadn’t known any better, another thing his hard life had calcified until he couldn’t make it work anymore, that real, genuine attraction had gone the way of imaginary friends and daydreams. But Husk had cracked right through to that giddy, naive part of Angel, he’d let it stretch and unfurl itself and fly. You could argue it was the part that had gotten him into so much trouble but, in Husk’s studio, it didn’t feel dangerous. It was fun again, simple, pleasant. So he let himself stare, he let himself get butterflies, he let himself blush and laugh and embarrass himself. It wouldn’t last, it wouldn’t mean anything but Angel had never been one for saying no to temporary pleasures. Especially ones that made him act like a damn fool. 

“You can ask me two questions,” he hummed with one of his best flirtatious smiles, “Seeing as I snuck an extra one.”

This had been their game for the last month and change. Husk had said he couldn’t paint a stranger, if he was going to put him on canvas then he needed to know him. The thought had got Angel’s back up so Husk had promised it would be an even exchange. He’d ask a question, Angel would answer it and then they’d trade. He’d even said that they didn’t have to be truthful answers, he’d understand enough from whatever lies the younger man chose to tell. 

And they’d started as lies, the standard sanitized version of his past Angel gave to any johns that wanted to fake like they’d taken him on some grand romantic date, rather than paid to fuck him in the tackily decorated back rooms of a downtown bordello. But, without even really noticing, he’d grown comfortable with Husk and the truth started slipping in. Now Husk knew more about him than anyone else left in the city and, Angel suspected, he knew just as much about the older guy. He could taste lies, thanks to his profession, and as far as his tongue could tell, Husk had given him nothing but truth, bitter as it was. 

“Always one to push it, aren’t you, Legs?” Husk chuckled, switching to a different brush, taking a pull from the bottle of amber liquid before continuing to paint. How he knew the difference between that and the water he cleaned his brushes in, without even glancing at them, Angel had no idea.

“You know it, sweetie,” Angel purred, recognising the color Husk picked up as the color of his own eyes, “Ain’t a proper game if you don’t try and bend the rules.”

Husk shook his head in amusement, choosing his questions without a pause, like he already knew which ones he needed to ask to make the next brushstroke perfect, “What was your biggest fear when you were a kid?”

“Before I turned thirteen? Spiders,” Angel wrinkled his nose, though there was an odd fondness to the nostalgic fear, “Nona’s apartment was full of them, I used to be frightened they’d crawl on my face when I slept. But she loves them, even named them all, the mad old bat.” 

“And after?” Husk’s brush hesitated and changed direction at the last moment. 

Angel gave a dry laugh, “Father finding out I was a pansy.”

Husk made a sympathetic noise but there was no pity in it, another point in Angel’s book. He sat back suddenly, frowning, “Come tell me what you think of this.”

Already? It hit Angel like a blow to the chest, enough that he staggered as he stepped off the little platform he posed on, enough that his mask almost cracked, “From your tone, I’m guessing you’re not happy?”

Husk gave a grunt, “Not me who needs to be happy with it…”

“Well it ain’t me either, baby, it’s Val,” Angel let the fabric fall, shrugged on a robe and came around to the other side of the easel. The sudden shock of color and movement on the other side of such a plain, gray nothing hit better than some highs he’d had. 

Angel didn’t know how to talk about art. He’d seen plenty of it when he was shipped out in France but he’d had other things on his mind then, it had all just been set dressing in this brand new world of dizzying highs and terrifying lows. 

So when he saw Husk’s work, he didn’t know how to describe the way it made him feel, he just felt it, in a rush like a wave that took him off his feet. It was the way he took moments in time and fixed them to the paper, turned them into something Angel could actually touch if he wanted, and made them so beautiful in the process. For someone who had so many gaps in his memory, parts of his life eaten away by drugs and pain and terror, it may as well have been magic. 

The painting was gorgeous, that wasn’t the problem. It was just a gorgeous painting of a vindictive, controlling pimp’s sex fantasy. 

When he first started working on this particular commission, Husk had asked Angel if he was really okay with what his boss had requested, showing him the list of demands with a knowing air, the older man fully aware of what answer was true and what answer he would get. And Angel hadn’t surprised him, glancing over what Valentino wanted and saying that whatever he’d asked for, Husk had better deliver. That’s how Angel had kept most of his teeth.

From the way Husk’s eyes had tightened, he hadn’t found the joke very funny.

But Angel knew what he’d see when he looked at the paper but an image in his own mind and something realized in ink and paint, brought to life by Husk’s clever hands, were two very different things. The Angel on the page was much truer to his name, he was angelic, pale skin glowing, freckles scattered across his skin like flecks of gold, eyes bright and blue and innocent behind flaxen hair. But he was a fallen angel, chains securing his hands to some part of the background that Husk would draw in later but, even without it, they looked inescapable, raw chafe marks in a wincing carmine visible below their cuffs. And the fabric looked somehow even less, like a rough hand was in the process of tearing it away to leave him naked and flushed. And there wasn’t a single scar on that perfect, porcelain skin. 

It wasn’t him. It was the role he was supposed to play for Valentino, the fantasy he was forced into. And seeing it in front of his eyes, he could almost feel the weight of those chains on his own wrists and, fuck, they hurt. 

“It’s exactly what he wants,” Angel said truthfully, making himself smile at Husk, “You’ve done a great job.”

But the older man’s frown just deepened, etching the lines around his eyes and mouth more firmly. Angel realized then that he wasn’t looking at the painting, he was only looking at him. 

“It’s shit.”

The sudden sound of the paper tearing away from the pad made Angel flinch but he couldn’t deny there was some catharsis in seeing it crumpled in Husk’s surprisingly strong fist. 

But he was the one who had to fight for his own misery, “Husk, no, it’s good! It’s really good, Val will love it.”

“You don’t,” Husk pitched the failed painting into the dented old furnace he’d light whenever he noticed Angel shivering. 

Angel opened his mouth but no words came out. It wasn’t so easy to lie to Husk as it was to lie to everyone else in his life. 

“That isn’t the point,” he finally managed, “Husk, honey, if you take any longer with this, he’s gonna start getting mad.”

Like it wasn’t already too late. 

He’d seen it in Valentino’s gaze every time he left the club for Husk’s studio, the building jealousy, the brewing sense of danger that Angel was so depressingly familiar with. They were meant to have been done inside a week but that week had rolled on and on, Husk getting to this point in the process, the moment where he should have let Angel go, and then starting over three times now. Every painting had been gorgeous, it had been lecherous, it had been exactly what Valentino wanted, and each one had ended up in the furnace as soon as Husk had seen Angel’s reaction. 

And if his boss’s simmering fury had just been directed at him, he wouldn’t have minded, the daydream was worth it. It was what he’d said about Husk that worried him. 

“It should be the point and I’ll fucking well tell him so,” Husk reached for the bottle again, draining it in one swallow that left his voice a smoky growl, “Valentino can get as mad as he wants, I ain’t scared of that up jumped pimp.”

Panic tasted bitter on Angel’s tongue and sharpened his words, “You should be. If you don’t realize how dangerous he is, you need to learn fast, Husker, because I’ll be damned if I let you get hurt because you stuck up for me. I’m not worth it.”

Husk’s eyes darkened, his voice softening, “You really believe that, kid?”

Angel realized he’d said more than he’d meant to, feeling more naked than he had when there was only a swathe of fabric between him and Husk’s gaze. 

“I have to,” he said eventually, voice trembling ever so slightly, “There ain’t another way through.”

Husk looked like he was going to say something, like there were some words pulling at the tip of his tongue, desperate to fly. But suddenly the fight went out of him, shoulders slumping, the words becoming a low groan as he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“I need another drink,” he muttered, “Gimme a second…”

He went into the back room of the studio that served as his living space, that rickety, sagging bed and chipped wardrobe and lopsided bookcase apparently holding all he owned in the world. But Angel knew there were several bottles of whiskey under the bed, enough that he didn’t need to ask whether Husk had served in the war too. Only a soldier needed that much poison to hand. 

Selfish tears threatened to choke him the moment he was alone. He’d done the right thing, he knew he had, but it still hurt like a bitch. He let himself have a moment to almost cry about it before scrubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his robe and moving to the furnace. He’d fish out the draft, he’d tell Husk to use that painting and he’d be done with this. The daydream had been nice but it needed to end, before someone other than Angel himself got hurt. He could see that now. 

There were several balls of crumpled sketchbook paper in the furnace’s grating, he couldn’t remember which one he needed. He came up with a handful of them, as well as an annoying smear of soot on his fingers, pulling a face of irritation as he unrolled one at random. 

And felt his heart stop in his chest. It was a drawing of him but it wasn’t the one he was looking for. 

It was a quick, hurried drawing, like Husk had done it on impulse, something to keep his hands steady or to keep them off the bottle for just a little longer. Angel wasn’t dramatically posed, dressed up in silk, he didn’t look alluring or otherworldly, it was just a sketchy of him from the neck up. He was doing that grin he tried not to do because it made his nose turn up and his teeth look huge but the way it was drawn here, it looked…adorable. Natural. 

He looked so happy. 

It was dizzying, seeing the way somebody else could look at his flaw and find beauty in it. Not Valentino’s warped, fake idea of it but real, actual, honest. Angel didn’t think he’d known the difference before looking at this drawing. 

He knew what he should do. He should drop the sketch back in the furnace, pretend he’d never seen it. He should light it up himself, let that version of himself blacken and curl and become nothing, go back to Valentino and the devil he knew. 

But his hands weren’t connected to his brain, reaching for more balls of paper the way he reached for the next pill or line of white powder, the next bad idea that would be sweet in the moment then do him more harm than good. 

Some pages just had one drawing, some had a few. The sketch of him asleep on the couch was full body but around it were isolated hands, eyes, a smile, every inch of him noticed and practiced until it was perfect. Angel was smiling, he was lost in thought, he was yawning hugely, he was guarded and wary, he was alight with playful mischief. He could match the expressions with memories of the last few weeks, stories he’d told Husk or bad jokes he’d made. Things he’d said and done so offhandedly but apparently they’d mattered enough for Husk to commit them to pencil and paper. 

Finally, after pages and pages of careful studies of himself, he found the draft painting done for Valentino. Seeing them side by side, it was heartbreakingly obvious, like he held night in one hand and day in the other. How he looked to someone who wanted him and how he looked to someone who loved him. Who he had to be and who he wanted to be. Angel Dust and Anthony. 

Angel didn’t hear the footsteps behind him until it was too late. 

“I’m sorry, kid, I shouldn’t have stormed off like that, I…Angel?”

He felt his stomach drop, whipping around, arms already drawn to his chest in defense and eyes screwed tightly shut, “I didn’t mean to look, it was an accident, I’m sorry.”

But the blow he’d learned to expect never landed. There was no anger, no explosion, just a long pause where the only sound was the city outside the windows shifting into evening, oblivious to the two of them. 

“Angel…fuck, I’m sorry.”

Surprise made him open his eyes, Husk just leaning in the doorway, slumped like a man too tired to fight anymore. 

“I never wanted to put you in this position,” his voice was rough, heavy, in a way that had nothing to do with the drink, “I swear, those sketches…they were just be trying to get this fucking lunacy out of my system, I was never gonna act on it. I don’t want to be just another deluded old idiot leering at you like he’d got any damn right to.”

“Husker…” Angel breathed, unsure what to do, holding onto the pages of sketches like he was afraid someone would take them away. 

“I just…it’s been so long since I talked with anyone, since anyone wanted to hear what I had to say,” Husk ducked his eyes, wincing, “I shouldn’t have let you in, I should have known better but you’re so…” he shook his head like there weren’t even words but it was there on the page, “I’m an old fool, Angel. That’s all. I’m sorry, I understand if you want to leave.”

Angel felt the weight of the choice. Again, that hard learned fear was pulling at him, telling him what he should do, what was safe, what was smart. Telling him that he didn’t deserve it. But for the first time in his life, he was able to drown that voice out, his grip on the pages, on his hope, tightening. 

“I don’t want to leave,” he murmured, taking a step closer to Husk. 

The older man’s eyes widened, looking like he didn’t know whether to believe what he’d just heard, “What?”

“I want you,” Angel said it again, feeling the truth in it now, feeling it steel himself.

He put the sketches to one side, resting his hands on Husk’s chest, letting himself have what he knew now he’d wanted for so long. Maybe even longer than he’d known Husk. 

“Angel,” Husk’s own hands responded, settling on his hips like nervous birds, “You have a right to know, when your boss came to hire me, he…he offered me you. For a discount he said I could…have you while I worked. And I didn’t take it, I never would but I just…I need to know that this is what you want, not something you feel like you have to do just because I got a stupid crush on you.”

The news didn’t surprise Angel in the slightest, Val had used him as sugar on top of deals plenty of times before. What did surprise him was Husk’s mouth twisting in disgust at the idea, the restraint holding him back until he heard Angel’s answer. What surprised him was finding himself in the arms of a truly honest man. 

“Baby,” he smiled, as big as he wanted to, not caring how it looked, “Believe me, I know what a bad idea this is. I know what I’m risking, I know what I’m asking you to risk. But I’m here anyway, ain’t I? So I know how much I want this, how much I've been wanting you since I walked through your door.”

Apparently that was all Husk needed to hear. His hold on Angel became certain, pulling him that last inch closer until their bodies pressed together, “Then I’m yours, baby. For however long we got.”

The moment their lips met, Angel knew the answer was not long enough. He knew in an instant that he’d never get tired of the way Husk kissed him, of that taste of second hand whiskey and those strong arms around him, feeling safer than anything had for a long damn time. He didn’t hurry, he didn’t want to press forward into the next thing, he just reveled in kissing Angel like if it stopped right there, it would still be enough. Angel found himself nearly climbing Husk, gasping and whimpering in between hurried breaths, nearly screaming when the older man shifted and pressed his leg up between Angel’s. 

“Fuck me,” he moaned desperately, needing Husk more than he needed air, so much he as burning with it. 

“You got the kit for that?” Husk’s voice had become a growl, something Angel felt as much as he heard. 

“I’m taking the fact that you have to ask as a professional insult,” Angel smirked, only the promise of having this man inside him able to make himself let go. 

He scrambled for the bag he’d left in the corner along with his clothes, Husk dropping back on the sofa to wait, warm golden eyes never leaving him. With that gaze pricking pleasantly across his skin, Angel shed his robe, stepping out of the pool of pink silk and coming back to Husk wearing only a lopsided grin. 

“Fuck, look at you, baby…” his hands were as reverant as his gaze, both stroking down Angel’s narrow body, drinking in every freckle and angle and scar with as much adoration as he settled in the older man’s lap. 

“Now you,” Angel tugged impatiently at Husk’s suspenders, “It’s my turn to stare.”

“Ain’t gonna be half as pretty,” Husk warned, the skin on his cheeks darkening a little but he didn’t resist as Angel yanked down the collar of his shirt and pulled open buttons, kicking off his shoes and shoving down his trousers. 

Under the slightly bedraggled clothing, Husk had scars of his own. Everything about him seemed designed to contrast Angel, dark skin where he was pale, strong where he was wiry, thick black hair across his chest and down between his legs where Angel just had a dusting of gold down, the curve of a beer gut where drugs had left Angel nearly concave. 

He wasn’t pretty. He was fucking gorgeous. Angel had to drag a fist across his lips to check he wasn’t drooling. 

Husk’s blush only deepend but now he was grinning rather than looking anxious, “You have weird tastes, baby.”

“Guys who are nice to me? I know, I’m a hopeless degenerate,” Angel cackled, before pressing the small jar into his hand, “I want you to do it…”

“My pleasure,” Husk rolled his hips, letting Angel feel the press of his erection against him, beaming when it made him tremble and whimper hungrily. 

Even slick with Vaseline, Husk’s fingers were fucking big. Angel found himself squealing like a fucking rookie when his hole finally opened for him after a few coaxing strokes, burying his face against the curve of his neck as he pressed inside. But Husk knew his business and in a moment it was bliss and nothing else, making Angel cling to him so fiercely that there would be an impression of the other man’s dog tags on his chest when he pulled away. 

When Husk curled his fingers against that sweet spot inside him, the pleasure took on an edge of panic, almost too much between that blinding pressure and his cock trapped between the warmth of their stomachs, the pre he was spilling like a fountain making it slick and hot. 

“Gonna…fuck, Husk, I can’t hold it…” he gasped, fingers digging into his shoulders. 

“You say that like it’s not the aim, baby…” Husk purred smokily, tongue tracing the curve of his ear. 

“Not like this,” Angel begged, voice strangled as it had to shoulder past gasps and moans and pleas, “On your cock. Need to feel you, wanna make you feel good too…”

The arms around him became soothing, like he was being rocked, Husk shifting to give him what he wanted, “You do, baby. You do. You’re doing so good.”

Those words set his nerves alight as much as the fingers crooked inside him until Angel almost sobbed, “Please…”

“I got you,” the loss of the fingers was heartbreaking until he felt Husk’s cock press against his entrance, thick and hard and hot enough to burn, “Breathe, baby, you’re so tight, you gotta let me in…”

Those strong hands slid down to Angel’s hips, holding tight so he couldn’t force himself back and take him, damn the pain. It was slow, careful, but the reward was all the sweeter for it, Angel’s eyes nearly rolling back as he sat on Husk’s dick, feeling so full he didn’t know how he wasn’t unraveling completely. 

“Fuck…” Husk’s voice cracked, a hand sliding up to tangle in Angel’s hair, the other draping around his hips to keep him close. 

“As good as you imagined?” Angel panted, nuzzling at his shoulder. 

“Better…”

Husk rolled his hips like the sweetest music was playing in his head, purposeful, rhythmic, wanting Angel to feel every inch. At first Angel couldn’t even scream, everything in him utterly surrendered, every cell in his body devoted to chasing after that feeling. But he soon realized he didn’t need to, Husk would give it to him and give it gladly, as sure as the tide. He fucked into him slow but the pace built gradually, leaving Angel free to moan and shriek and beg. He couldn’t let Husk mark him, as much as he wanted it, but he could sink his teeth into him, sucking hard until he’d have something to look at in the morning and feel less lonely. 

Angel knew how to read people’s bodies, he knew they were about to fall. Husk throbbed deep inside him, his own cock was stiff as a board and trembling between their bodies. He wanted to beg Husk to hold on, to wait, just a few seconds more because even those would be sweeter than anything he’d ever get again. But he might as well have wished for the moon. 

So Angel did what he’d always done and took a hand in his own destruction. 

He moved his hips faster, grinding down hard on Husk’s dick and whispered in his ear, “Come for me, baby.”

Husk did, with a yowl like a cat in heat. Angel was a second behind, painting both of their chests and crying out his lover’s name, letting his voice shatter on it. They were both left ruined, gasping, only held together by the other’s arms around them. 

It was a long time before Angel trusted himself to speak, morning back to rest his forehead on Husk’s, “Will you draw me? Like this?”

Husk’s smile was warmth itself, “I’ll do my damndest, baby.”

It came out beautiful. Of course it did. 

Afterwards, when their lovemaking was just an ache in his hips and a slick feeling between his legs, Angel sat back in Husk’s arms and looked at the sketch like he was trying to etch it onto his brain. The pencil version of himself wore Husk’s shirt rather than his own, eyes heavy lidded, his smile crooked and blissfully tired, happier than Angel had thought his own face would ever look. 

Even if the moment had ended for them, he’d always have this. He had this proof that someone had loved him. 

“Can I keep it?” his voice was raw and shaky, “And some of the others?” In case I come to my senses and never see you again. 

Husk kissed the side of his head, squeezed his hand gently, like he’d heard the words left unsaid, “They’re yours. But I’ll draw you better ones if you like? Ones that didn’t spend a few days in the furnace?”

Angel smiled up at him, seeing that some of the soot from his fingers had smudged on Husk’s cheek, “I think these are perfect the way they are.”

“Then they’re a good likeness,” Husk murmured, pressing the next kiss to his lips. 

Angel leaned into it, letting himself have another temporary pleasure, letting himself have a moment to not think about anything but Husk. What he’d do tomorrow, fuck, what he’d do in the next moment, he had no idea. But he wouldn’t think about it now.

“It is stunning, isn’t it, Angel? Who’d have thought the old drunk had some talent left clinging to him…”

Valentino’s voice was full of smug satisfaction and smoke, faintly red billows of it hissing from between his teeth and scratching at Angel’s nose. He didn’t flinch, he’d grown used to it over the years. 

“It’s exactly what you asked for,” he hummed in what would sound like agreement, looking up at the painting now slotted cozily into its new home on the wall of Valentino’s office. 

The frame was a tacky travesty, of course, gilded and overblown but he supposed the image inside was as well. Husk had delivered exactly what he’d been asked, once Angel had convinced him to. It was exactly like the draft piece that nearly ended up in the flames, just more polished and done in rich, sumptuous oils, his wanton blush more rich, his eyes shining brighter, his pose more tempting. Valentino was nearly salivating looking at it. 

“You’ve never looked more tempting, my dear,” he crowded Angel closer, voice almost warm though his hands were like vices on his shoulders, “In fact, I can think of no better advertisement for our little club, you’ll have the deviants of the city flocking to our doors just for a glimpse of this…and then they’ll pay through the nose for the real thing.”

“Yes, Valentino,” Angel hummed, not taking his eyes off the painting.

“I believe I’ll take Mr Husker up on his kind offer, now I know his talent hasn’t faded along with everything else. A few pieces like these in the hallway, my profits could triple…and with the discount he mentioned, well, I don’t know what you showed him or shook in front of him but the old fool’s half in love with you. Very nice work, baby…”

Angel shrugged, gaze still fixed on the painting, “Just a generous guy, I guess.”

“Don’t make me laugh, sweetling, you’re not good at it,” Valentino said curtly, “I want you on stage in ten. With how much time you’ll be spending in that studio, you’ll have to make it up to me. Double shifts for the rest of the week and I don’t want to hear you bitching.”

Angel flinched a little but he didn’t take his eyes off Husk’s painting, not even when the office door closed with a slam designed to put him on edge, “You won’t…”

Of course Valentino hadn’t noticed it. But it was the first thing he’d seen as soon as he’d stepped into the office after Val had called him in so he could gloat over it. Husk hadn’t let him see the final piece, just reassuring him that it was finished and that his boss would be happy with it. And now Angel knew why. 

Valentino didn’t look past the eyes, the beckoning gaze, the perfect body begging to be ruined. But Husk did. And that's why one of the chains in the links that bound the painted version of Angel was cracked. Almost all the way through, about to break entirely, if he just pulled hard enough. Valentino saw him chained but in Husk’s painting, Angel saw himself fighting and, against all the odds, about to win.

It was a nice dream. 

Angel turned away from the painting, thinking about where this had begun. It was supposed to be easy. It should have been easy, it was Angel Dust’s job to be stared at. 

But this was the first time he felt like he’d been seen. 

[spacedustpan]

I'm dying I need beautiful Space Exploration Reincarnation and Immortal AU Sparrington

Jack sees him from across the dock after landing and nearly trips and drops his bag.

James is overseeing preparation of his vessel for his next voyage. He's talking to crew and looking over projections for cargo and supplies.

Jack is stunned for a moment. It's been almost a century since he last saw one of the people whose memory he cherishes. It had last been Gibbs and the decade he'd spent with him, to avoid questions of aging, had been a balm for the soul.

Now here is James. The sad silly lovestruck Commodore. He'd last seen him in a paper in the 1900's, but when he followed up on the vessel he'd been manning he found they were taken down in war. A shame he hadn't gotten to say hello.

It's 2364 and here he is again in the mountains of a completely different planet.

Look I'm not a writer but I just think it'd be sweet. Especially with looking back on other people in his life he cherished like Elizabeth and Will and Barbossa and Annamaria and then other people still that he cherished without really knowing it at the time.

---

Also wanted to add on here:

I can't really decide if I want this to be a Star Trek type setting or a Treasure Planet type setting.

When I originally thought of it it was more of a modern and Star Trek type... but now I'm not sure.

But hey! It can be up to you!

here's some Treasure Planet Concept Art if you're on that side of the fence:

[good-wine-and-cheese]

Star Trek AU Tenmas (and mirror!verse Tenma)

Tenma is a half-Vulcan, half-Human and thus doesn't quite fit in with either society. He was raised Vulcan and thus strives toward the ideal of pure logic, though has never been able to succeed in the ritual purging of emotions that all Vulcans undergo, to his great shame. Rather than seek to join Starfleet, he instead took his post within the Vulcan Science Academy with a focus in engineering.

After an intense and violent emotional breakdown caused by the death of his wife and son, he is essentially expelled from the academy until such a time that he can "master" his humanity. He’s assigned as an observer to a Starfleet research outpost, where he meets and must cooperate with Ochanomizu. If he is to be accepted back to the Vulcan Science Academy, he must come to terms with his human half; a difficult process, for someone who views humans as inherently inferior for their illogical nature.

Because he's not Starfleet, it gives him room to be kind of an antagonistic force since he's serving the interests of Vulcan rather than Starfleet and sometimes, even though they're allies, they don't get along. Ochan can't give him orders because they're not the same chain of command so they're gonna be butting heads a lot.

Mirrorverse Tenma: This version of Tenma has achieved balance with his human half and accepts his emotions rather than try to suppress them. He actually did become a member of starfleet the Terran imperial fleet, as one of the few avenues through which a Vulcan can obtain status in the Terran Empire (short version of the alternate timeline: when humans made First Contact with Vulcans in the Mirror!verse it did not go well for the Vulcans).

I can't decide whether he's working his way through the ranks to install himself at the top or if he's engaged with resistance groups aiming to sabotage and overthrow the Empire....though knowing him he might be playing at both ends.

[sunriseverse]

it's been years since i made a reclist from my bookmarks, and i've trimmed down what i had and added some new things to my bookmarks, so here's a reclist, from oldest to newest bookmarks! fics beneath the cut with the original summary and my recollections/comments after. (please note that for any fics with smut, i can't comment on how the smut is, because i skip those portions.)

Tony Stark Meets an Extremely Unimpressed Time Traveler, or, Thomas Barrow Makes a Surprisingly Good 21st Century Butler by Alex51324 (87k, t, no warnings)

In which Tony Stark ditches a boring party, makes an addition to the household staff, throws a much better party, and tries not to sexually harass his new butler. Or,In which Thomas Barrow has a little trouble getting home from the pub, is generally unimpressed with many aspects of the 21st century, never thought of himself as a conservative dresser before, and may or may not be falling in lust with his new employer. tl:dr: Thanks to time travel, Thomas Barrow becomes the Avengers' butler.

my commentary: this is actually one of the earliest fics i bookmarked! i haven't been into the mcu in...........a long, long time, but i distinctly remember pulling an all-nighter to read the entire thing when i first ran across it. i'll be honest, i had clicked into it assuming it was crack, but it's not—it's played entirely earnest, and, in my recollection, does so well. and, well, what can i say; thomas was my favourite character back when downton abbey was airing (for reasons that i did not realise until much later). largely free of angst or action conflict; the issues stem largely from the conflict between thomas' biases and (mis)assumptions and the modern (well, 2010s) world.

Ain’t No Nancy Kerrigan by cleverqueen (t, 13k, no warnings)

It's 1994, and young Lisa Snart's jumps aren't strong enough for an Olympic singles skater. Thankfully, her older brother has an athletic friend who can match her in pairs. Mick Rory is hopelessly in love with Leonard Snart, though he'd never say anything about it, so he jumps at a chance to do Len's little sister a favor. If he's patient and works hard, maybe he'll even get to skate with her older brother.

my commentary: as i remember it, this fic was an absolute delight! i don't remember a lot of mick-pov fics, though i haven't............been in the dc tags in ages, let alone the cw dc tags, but it's really well-written! it's canon setting, but takes place pre-canon, and the dynamics are very well-written and enjoyable. it's even tagged "pining", which, as i remember it, applies very much so, and, well, what can i say; i have tropes i love.

and who shall wear the starry crown by consumptive_sphinx (2k, t, major character death)

Blackfoot serves Shadowclan, first and always. That is not, in fact, the same thing as serving Tigerstar.

my commentary: i think this is the only wc fanfic i have bookmarked on ao3? and deservedly so! it's a human au, and while it's short, it's so well thought out. the worldbuilding and lore that's hinted at, everything you can feel beneath the surface—so good!

The Nationwide Network of Oz by ErinPtah (3k, t, no warnings)

It's long past time Oz upgraded from the wireless telegraph.

my commentary: it's such a shame there's not a lot of oz novel fics—i truly think the series doesn't get the attention it deserves. a fun little short dorothy/ozma fic, with a dash of magitech and blogging.

Spaceships, Private Jets, and Minivans: How to Start a Global Incident in 5 Minutes Flat by Scientia_Fantasia (49k, t, no warnings)

One early summer morning in Riverside, Iowa, a spacecraft crash lands into the backyard of a highschooler by the name of James T. Kirk. Earth history is changed forever.

my commentary: i actually lost this fic for a long time and only tracked it down after a year of searching; it's a fun, teenaged star trek au—i'm usually not too fond of aus where characters are teens, but this one pulled it off very well! and it's rather funny, and the way the characters run into each other and get involved in the plot is very fun!

we make our friends, we make our enemies by ORiley42 (52k, t, no warnings)

Benji finds out he has a new neighbor. This new neighbor happens to be off-the-charts hot. Hijinks, friendship, more-than-friendship, and secret agent drama ensue.

my commentary: i actually read this from start to finish as it was updating! the author, ORiley42, is a fabulous writer, and this fic? so good. i've fallen away from the mi fandom, but i have fond memories of it, so this fic has a warm place in my heart. also, the trope of a civilian getting involved in spy bullshit? so good. and the pining. the drama.

The Long Con by harleygirl2648 (19k, t, no warnings)

There are two kinds of cons: long and short. Short cons mean short-term gain, with smaller rewards, mostly just everything you have in your pocket at that moment. Long cons mean lots of time, effort, costumes, masks, props, sets, and other characters all looking to set up the downfall of the mark and take them for all that they've got. Con Artist/Thieves AU: Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter are both interested in acquiring a Botticelli, but both of them are quite fond of each other's short games. For both of them, it's the deception and thrill of the game that's worth more than the payout. And well, after all, aren't the easiest people to scam are those who think they are smart enough to not get scammed?

my commentary: it's an art heist au, what more can i say? it's funny, well-written, and, crucially, fun.

deus ex machina by coloredink (26k, t, creator chose not to use archive warnings)

"What the hell?" said Katz. "Is that--" "Yeah, I know, it's kinda flashy." Will shut the car door behind him and patted his pockets for the little fob to lock the car. "Isn't that Hannibal Lecter's car?" The car beeped to indicate it was locked. "Yeah, I guess so." Will walked away, toward the field, Katz on his heels. "I needed a new car." "So you bought the cannibal car?" ----- You asked for it: the one where Hannibal is a murderous self-driving car.

my commentary: every time i talk about this fic, people are like. [newt geiszler voice] w—wh—whhhhattttt? and, yeah, okay, i get it, i do, but i swear to you, will graham x the luxury car possessed by hannibal lecter the cannibal's soul is, in fact, a fantastic fic. it's so well written, so funny, so novel. it's the cannibal car!

The Man Who Invented Sherlock Holmes by Calais_Reno (15k, t, no warnings)

John Watson, struggling young doctor, doomed to live an ordinary life, dreams of writing detective fiction. If he can just figure out his hero's name, the story will practically write itself.

my commentary: look. i am, at my core, a lover of experimental, weird concepts. and "john watson accidentally brings a fictional character into being and they fall in love" is, in fact, precisely something i would like. and, and, and! it's acd canon, and written in such a charming style! it is truly one of my favourite fics.

A Really Private Person by astolat (18k, m, no warnings)

The end of the world started on a Wednesday in March.

my commentary: i don't have many poi fics bookmarked, but this one is absolutely the best out of all of them. the emotions i will always associate with reading it are that of being half lucid and experiencing something just so utterly satisfying it makes you smile like a cat.

I've Got Nothing To Do Today But Smile (The Only Living Boy in New York) by gyzym (19k, t, creator chose not to use archive warnings)

Arthur's a corporate lawyer, Eames owns the coffee shop across the street, and all good love stories start with a quadruple shot latte.

my commentary: an ode to struggling out of sunk cost fallacy, finding people who love you, and slowly, slowly building a better life. also the cafe food all sound so so good i would love to eat there.

Atonement by acedott (9k, t, no warnings)

I know how lonely you must be. All by yourself in that room. Morgana’s words stuck with Gwen long after the enchantment was broken. She recognized the veiled vulnerability in her tone from years as her servant. She hadn’t sounded like that in so long; she’d trusted Gwen with her every thought since they had both come of age. But when she first arrived in Camelot, when they were brought together as mistress and servant, Morgana had not known how much to trust her. Gwen, in turn, had not known how much to trust her new mistress.

my commentary: written by the fabulous lovely wonderful @owengrose, this fic makes me feel So Many Emotions. it's written with such care and purpose, and made me cry when i first read it. read it!!!

On the Risks and Rewards of Being Seen by acedott (8k, g, no warnings)

The year is 1815. Karla Gottlieb, the lady of the Gottlieb estate, rekindles an old friendship with Vanessa Haile, the groundskeeper’s daughter.

my commentary: yes i am putting another one of my friend's fics on here, but listen: risks and rewards is just so, so good. i can't even give further commentary beyond "it's so good" because it's just that good. it's historical, it's carefully-crafted, it's lesbians! what more could you want? go forth and comment.

Of Madness and Mammals by Briarwitched (series, four works, 619k, t-m, no warnings)

this series doesn't have a summary, but more or less: alex, suffering from horrific hallucinations and trauma, is discarded by mi6 and tossed into prison—where he meets yassen once more, and, once again, yassen tries to look out for hunter's son.

my commentary: this is, in my opinion, the best set of works i've read in the alex rider fandom. it's one of the best series i've read period. it is so well-crafted, well-plotted, and well-executed. it's a shame that the fandom isn't larger, because the series deserves more attention.

Beginning Where You Are by TF Grognon (gloss) (15k, t, no warnings)

"There's no such thing as magic," Dove-Gray said. Min snorted and flexed her fingers. "Tell that to the magic bloodthirsty soulsucking sword that lives in my hand."

A disgraced scholar and well-meaning mercenary forge an unlikely partnership.

my commentary: i found this while trawling the sci-fi tag, and honestly, i'm so glad i did, because it's just so good. the worldbuilding and lore and character dynamics and every other bit of it is just. god. so good. also, one of them literally has a bloodthirsty soul-sucking sword in her hand.

You're Dead (and Outta This World) by TheOceanIsMyInkwell (10k, t, no warnings)

“Holy shit!” shouts the EMT at his side. His partner on the other side of the gurney--the other side of the body bag--follows up with a well-deserved holy fuck and stumbles backward over her boots to sag against the back of the open ambulance. “I’m fine, I’m fine, oh God, I’m sorry,” Guillermo babbles. His knees are trembling. He wriggles out of the body bag and hops to his feet, feeling like his legs are a cross between jello and underbaked macaroons, and he repeats his litany of apologies as he bounces from one foot to another to restore circulation. Pain shoots through his joints from the roots of his toes. He ignores it, instead pivoting his head from side to side wildly seeking the detritus of his phone and groceries. “Sir! Sir! You were--sir, please get back here! You were dead!” “Not today, sorry!” -- Or: 3 times Guillermo came back from the dead, and 1 time Nandor was there to see it.

my commentary: this fic preserves the horror-comedy of the show so well, and you can see poor guillermo having a longform breakdown across the fic. it's so fun.

and yet we still bloom by gdgdbaby (110k, e, graphic depictions of violence)

When the Crown Princess of Xian Le, Her Highness Xie Lian, saved a tiny street urchin from falling to her death during the nation's biggest parade, she could never have predicted that same street urchin would eventually become her greatest spymaster. Xie Lian hadn't anticipated the heavens-upending events that followed the drought either, but sometimes these things just happen. OR: Xie Lian and Hua Cheng save their country and save the world.

my commentary: i would say this is easily one of the best tgcf fics, and it fulfils so many of my desires: lesbians, fix its, slow burn, and woldbuilding/lore! i cannot recommend this enough.

rare as the glimmer by Euphorion (24k, e, no warnings)

“Do you—” Quan Yizhen started, and then on the other side of the room Pei Ming started up his jackhammer, so he waited, bouncing on the balls of his feet, and then said all in a rush, “doyouknowHuaCheng?” Xie Lian blinked. “You know—him?” she asked, in case 'San Lang' was some kind of private name, a secret code just for her. She liked the thought of that. Quan Yizhen shook his head vigorously, his curls bouncing. “No!” he said. “But Yin-ge said you were with him at Home Depot and you left together!” Xie Lian stared at him. One of the employees that had helped her a few weeks ago had been called Yin something, she was pretty sure, but that’s about as far as she could follow what was happening here. “Yizhen, if you don’t know Hua Cheng, why is this… notable?” “He’s famous. Or like. The bad one. Infamous. I thought—” His eyes gleamed. “I thought maybe you fought him.”  + Retired (read: disgraced) famous boxer Xie Lian meets a helpful stranger while at Home Depot attempting to fix her collapsing roof.

commentary: lesbians! modern aus! butch!xie lian! everything about this fic is just *chef's kiss* it makes me lose it every time. the dynamics and writing feels so true to canon, and reading it is just. so so good. i'm trying to come up with more comments and i can't, it's just. so good.

We Stan Scrap Gege! by PaidSubscription (31k, m, no warnings)

“San Lang…are you sure about this? Life on the road, storage units…it’s not glamorous. There’s junk and there’s gross fluids and roaches and raccoons and meth labs, and one time I got lead poisoning and- oh! Another time I accidentally got locked inside a unit with five families and loaded on a truck and then I think technically we were human trafficked-?” “Gege. I’m in this, all the way.”

Scrap Collector’s cancellation is inevitable. Once, Xie Lian was the most popular face in reality TV. After the...incident, Xie Lian is banished to 2am cable, and turns to making a different kind of show: storage hunting. But in his final season, he suddenly acquires a new producer: a Youtube star named San Lang. And San Lang- along with his legion of fans- is determined to save the show. 📺🎥💕

my commentary: this concept is both utterly batshit, and weirdly sensible for the characters? i loved the interspersing of social media format between the prose, and the dynamics between all the characters, especially hualian, are so on-point!

Knowing Only This by CatMouse (dioscuridevotio) (31k, m, no warnings)

Bai Yutong is handling it. Ever since he was fifteen years old and realized that the horrible, sickening, aching feeling he got in his chest whenever he looked at his best friend wasn't a sign of early heart failure but instead a warning of something much worse, he's been handling it perfectly fine. With full maturity and dignity. He's the head of SCI. He's the best cop of his generation. He's the pinnacle of self-control and an expert at compartmentalization. But sometimes—Sometimes Zhan Yao doesn't make it easy. In fact, it's times like these he's convinced Zhan Yao is determined to make his life as difficult as humanly possible.

my commentary: a wild sci fic emerges! poor bai yutong is going through trials and tribulations of being in love, and it's so so fun to read. i laughed and gasped and was on the edge of my seat while reading (well, metaphorically; i was laying in bed). it's just very very good.

codify my wasted youth by lungache (6k, t, no warnings)

“We're way too caught up in the race with time It's getting hard to take it in We're tryin hard to be the first in line Just wanna be a kid again, a kid again”

An Origin Story “We should start a band!” “Holy shit, we should totally start a band!”

my commentary: the fabulous @lungache wrote a marvelous band!au, and i wish i could eat it like a fine dessert. why does it only have ten comments. it deserves so much more. read it. comment on it. now. that is not a suggestion.

The Tiniest Heipaoshi by tehfanglyfish (6k, t, no warnings)

Jiajia was already handling a good number of Professor Shen's lectures and labs, fielding office hour questions, and all of his online correspondence. Why not add a few more responsibilities into the mix? It wasn’t like she needed to sleep. OR The one where Jiajia impersonates the Envoy.

my commentary: i'll admit, i don't go here, so i can't give a fully accurate commentary, but i stumbled across this somehow (perhaps someone else's rec list? who knows) and the few chapters of the novel plus the episode or two of the show i watched gave me just enough knowledge to enjoy this fic. and, anyway, the concept of "exhausted TA pretends to be a terrifying non-human political entity" is, in my opinion, universally appreciable.

I Love You (I Want Us Both To Eat Well) by freakesque (6k, m, creator chose not to use archive warnings)

In which Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan take it upon themselves to make sure Xue Yang eats regularly, and Xue Yang finds out he’s actually not a twink.

my commentary: @xueyang's fanfic which i got to cheer them through writing and then read; it's so so good. it will make you Feel Things and Have Emotions. read it. now.

And the gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it by lucientelrunya (39k, m, graphic depictions of violence)

It's him. It’s really him. For a moment Zhang Rishan looks up from his phone again, letting his gaze wander over the pool and then the shoreline behind it. There is still no trace of the merperson, but he had come to save Zhang Rishan. Again. He smiles to himself. So he is still here, still saving drowning people. That means Zhang Rishan can start step two of his plan. To the humans who hire him, Zhang Rishan is a proficient hunter, one of the best to hunt the rare magical creatures, the yaoren. To Ba Ye, Zhang Rishan is a stranger, a poor human he saves from drowning, not a hunter that has been tasked with catching him. Their meeting will change them both and alter the course of both of their lives drastically.

my commentary: am i using this rec list to recommend my friends' writing? perhaps. but also, this fic is just so good! the worldbuilding and dynamics.................so so fun. and it gave me the perfect excuse to dabble in conlangs again. also i regularly think about the mer lore, so. @lucientelrunya did a fabulous job here and i WILL make you hear about it.

Confidence Trick by duty_free (21k, e, creator chose not to use archive warnings)

"Your umma was going to die instead of you," Jae Ho said as one of his guys dragged Hyun Soo out of bed. Another guy stood waiting by the door, his back to them, looking down the corridor and smoking silently. "But it's smarter to kill you." He gestured at Hyun Soo. "So here we are."

my commentary: yes, i'll admit it, i watched the film and then immediately went looking for fics because the ending killed me. this one soothes those wounds at least partly; i like how it keeps the fucked up elements of their relationship while also still having them, well, fall in love trust. and it's such an interesting canon divergence concept, one that i think is executed excellently.

alright, that's everything, for now, anyway! i hope you can find something on this list you're interested in!

[procrastinatorproject]

WIP Folder Game

I wasn't actually tagged, but I saw this on @beautyofsorrow's blog and just... couldn't resist.

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

The problem, of course, is that my "WIP folder" is in fact four different Scrivener projects with a sum total of over 100k unpublished words, so this is gonna be LONG 😅🙈 But in the past, I have found great inspiration in looking through all my wild ideas and wip's that mostly consist of a couple paragraphs or a screenshhot of a discord conversation with friends. So I'm gonna do this anyway :D

WIPs that are only notes or snippets of conversations with friends where I tell them about My Great Fic Idea

Breathe

Field Medicine

5+1 holos

Moriarty

Bashir & Soji

All in a Day's Work

Kidfic

Merged

Sugar Rush

Circuit (Dark Academia)

S1 Agnes POV

CYOA/Scavenger Hunt

The Train Job

Regency AU

Holo-Admonition

He Never Gets Any Nicer (meta)

WIPs that are mostly notes (sometimes very long, elaborate notes) but do have a bit of actual writing attached

Conference Emails

Calluses

A Day at the Faire

Cosmic Detours (one unpublished chapter)

From the Mouths of Babes

Mittens on a String

Squad

Rescuing Dahj

Podcast

WIPs that are a single paragraph (or sentence) or two with not a lot of notes or context

ricepudding

Nostalgia/Nerdiness

The Quiet Spaces in Between (Raffi & Tuvok)

Kestra (Holoween)

All Aboard

Bed Rest (Seven)

Dino Hunt

Ready Room

Cosmic Detours (one unpublished chapter)

Valkriss Tales

Brainwashing

Choose Your Path

AI Malfunction

WIPs that are quite substantial already but still need a lot more work (or for me to sit down and JUST WRITE THE THREE MISSING SENTENCES ALREADY MY GOODNESS!)

Virus

Check-Up

Raffi Whump

Game Night II (Holoween)

Snapshots

Bed Rest (Rios)

Bed Rest (Picard)

Bed Rest (Agnes)

Homecoming

Dynamic Chaos

Meadow (two unpublished chapters)

Baby on Board

Space Shark

CMO's Log (some notes and a couple unpublished chapters)

Favouritism

Four Cakes

Sleep-Deprived

In the Shallows

In the Palm of his Hand (couple unpublished chapters)

Mittens on a String (5 + 1)

Institutional Knowledge

Kestra & Rios

The Cake Is A Lie (Findings and Conclusion)

And finally: WIP's so big they are their own Scrivener Project and will never be finished because they'd be the length of a novel. Or two. (Though I usually only have a few paragraphs/chapters written, the rest is wild ideas and notes)

Star Trek: La Sirena, Episode 2 (and notes for five or six more episodes)

Star Trek: Second Chances

Post-Rusker [semi-disqualified]

Synth Ban Thriller

Star Trek Holo Novel

And I'm not gonna tag as many people as I have WIPs, because that would require me to count them. And even though I rationally know the number of WIPs is morally neutral, I still have deep shame about Not Finishing Things. I'm working hard to dismantle that and have come a long way, but I'm not there yet 😅

(Also, I may not have enough mutuals for the number of WIPs 🙈😅)

So, if you, too, would like to stroll through your WIP folder and have people ask you about some of the stories that live in your head rent free, take this as permission to go for it! 😁🖖

[argisthebulwark]

Ao3 20 Questions

thank you @kagedbird for the tag!! <3<3 i will tag some friends @daedrabait @miraakswhore @somethingscarlet13 @queerbashir if u wanna participate <3

How many works do you currently have on ao3? Currently 25. holy shit, i thought it was more than that lol

What's your total ao3 word count? 98,336. Used to be like 200k before i cleaned out some old works i didn't care for anymore.

What fandoms do you write for? Skyrim and Star Trek TOS & AOS

What are your top five fics by kudos? Sorry Lass, Make Me Feel Mortal, Don't Shut Me Out, Fascinating, and Destroy Rebuild

Do you respond to comments? Sometimes! Honestly it depends on whether or not i'm online and see them. if i don't respond right away it feels rude to respond weeks after the fact, but for repeat commenters or usernames i recognize i try to!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Idk i used to like to emotionally beat up Jim a lot, so probably one of the short stories where i explore all his traumas

What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Probably Sorry, Lass. I originally wrote it in 2015 and i'm fairly certain it ends with a mushy marriage scene.

Do you get hate on fics? Surprisingly, no. I think i got a few rude comments back when i first started, but honestly everyone's been too kind to me.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Hell yeah brother that's what i do!! I love angsty, emotionally charged smut. my personal favorite to write is angry, hatefuck type of stuff. or when they're using it to avoid talking about feelings.

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Not that i've ever posted lmao. I don't usually post non canon compliant fics for whatever fandom i'm working in.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Kinda. a few years ago someone let me know that my work had been reposted to a fic site i don't use and one quick message got them to take it down. Also, i once posted a fic as a one off, forgot that i'd done that, and used the same scene much later in a larger story - and some nice commenter on the original let me know that someone had stolen my idea lmao

Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope, never had anyone request that and don't want to do so incorrectly.

Have you ever cowritten a fic? Kind of? an old friend and i used to write separate chapters of our self insert marvel fics and mush them together into one story lol. never posted it anywhere, it was just shared emails and google docs.

What's your all time favorite ship? God, that's hard. probably McKirk. as i've gotten older and unlearned all the internal shame about self inserts it's gotten easier to do a self insert story instead of an established pair.

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Every few weeks i pluck away at my regency au Miraak fic. i don't think i'll ever actually finish it because it's just so big in my head it's hard to get on paper, but i hope i do someday.

What are your writing strengths? I'm very comfortable writing sex scenes. I think that often when the author is uncomfortable about writing explicit sex the reader can really feel it in the story and i put in a lot of work to get over those mental hurdles. i've been told i'm good at characterization, which is awesome! i love getting in a character's head!

What are your writing weaknesses? Very often i find myself bogged down with the need to describe every little scene. it's a major reason i haven't posted a longfic in a while - i want to write these big stories but find myself getting lost in the little details. i also have a terrible habit of editing myself while i'm writing, which just gets me stuck in an unproductive loop.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Since i'm only fluent in English, this isn't something i am confident in. i've written in a few fictional languages for fics before but would probably reach out or suggest another author if a reader wanted something that heavily involved this.

First fandom you wrote for? Twilight babey!!! self insert oc to smooch Edward Cullen when i was a little middle schooler!!! i didn't know what fanfiction was but i knew i had a big ol crush on him.

Favorite fic you've written? not to be cringe on main, but most of my favorites are things that never got published. they're the little things still hanging out in my google docs that i go back to over and over. i rewrote all of star trek into darkness word for word just to make bones and jim kiss, i made a self insert just to smooch skurge after hyperfixating on thor ragnarok, and the weird time a few months ago where i wrote like 40k words of a cowboy romance. i read them often and wish that i'd written more on many of them but i do not read my published works.

thanks to anyone who read my rambling lmao. love you all sososo much, thank you for reading my silly little stories and caring about them. <3<3<3

[isagrimorie]

Did Voyager fandom ever go through the Casablanca AU phase back in the 90s and early aughts?

The theme was angst and the ship doesn't end up together just like in the movie. But the 'Rick' analog in the story almost always ends with a new beautiful friendship.

Off the top of my head of fandoms that's had that one or two really good Casablanca AU multi-chapter fics:

The X-Files - Letters of Transit by Loch Ness (Mulder/Scully)

I think LoT was the first fic that kicked off this whole chain. Post-Colonization.

It’s 1999– The Date has come and gone, the “Project” is underway and deadly bees have been unleashed on North America. With the world coming apart and people scrambling to get away from the swarm. Mulder faces fateful decisions about his own role in events to come– and about Scully.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel the Series - As Time Goes By by Yahtzee - Angel/Cordelia, Buffy/Angel (Buffy as Laszlo, Angel as Ilsa, Cordy as Rick).

This story is set six years from now and may contain spoilers for anything that has happened through early Season Three ATS and Season Six BTVS. After that, things begin to go AU. You'll be able to tell where canon is and is not in force. Also, if you haven't watched "Casablanca" before -- well, first of all, what HAVE you been doing with yourself? Go rent it! If you choose to read this first, you'll be spoiled for the movie. (Not that anything actually spoils "Casablanca.")

Farscape - Bellum Interruptum by Cofax (John/Aeryn)

Of all the crappy little bars on rundown stations at the ass end of the universe, she had to walk into mine.

Also, I think there was an Alias fic based on the same idea but for the life of me I can't remember what it was.

Did Star Trek ever join the ranks (specifically Voyager)?

It would be a shame if there was none because the Voyager crew are practically dressed for it in The Killing Game.

[staenless]

Star Trek Steddie AU where Steve is a trill denied a symbiont and shunned by his joined parents runs away to join the federation under his grandparents name to escape the shame. Eddie, a half romulan and half human refugee joins the engineering staff under a false Vulcan identity, hoping to support his human uncle who rescued him. They'd probably never meet, and they'd both probably get away with it, but the USS Forrestor has a spy aboard, and everyone is under scrutiny

[more-better-words]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @iamstartraveller776! Thank you! ☺️

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 49 (that number will be changing soon)

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 538,126 (a full third of that is a single story 😅)

3. What fandoms do you write for? Ummmm....I have written for numerous fandoms over the years, and most of them you haven't heard of! (no seriously)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? The four fics that make up my Star Trek: Enterprise series Built to Last, (and one other lol).

From the Ground Up

What We Build Here

For the Duration

The Place We Call Home

Lay Down the Beat (Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency)

5. Do you respond to comments? Heck yeah! I love comments. I'm such a comment ho, bring 'em on.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I have kind of an allergy to angst, so...none, really. Okay, What We Build Here has a slightly angsty ending, but that was ONLY because I knew I was writing a followup and the angst would be healed! Bittersweet is about as hard as I go.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Hmmm...Almost all of them? 😄 Destiny and Venturing the Uncharted both have pretty darn sappy happy endings, and of course, the whole point of the Built to Last series was to provide a happy ending, so... yeah. Come to me for all your "everything's gonna be okay" needs.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Haven't on AO3. Tumblr, though...that's another matter. (Which never fails to bewilder me. You're gonna take time out of your life to send anon hate to ME? ME?? Who the actual frilly heck am I to warrant anon hate??)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Sort of? Kind of? For years, I didn't try, and now I have, and it's all rated M because I don't think I have anything more explicit in me, but I'm enjoying it? (it's all extremely fluffy, though, because I'm just a fluff merchant at heart)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? No, I never have. I'm not sure my brain's wired for that.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of, but the majority of my fic is so niche I would be stunned if I did.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? See above, re: niche

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Sort of...years ago, I co-wrote some Baldur's Gate AU fic with a friend that never got published anywhere. Which is a shame, because it was good stuff.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Whichever one I'm writing at the moment lol.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Probably the sequel to In a Strange Land. Of all the stories I've started and never finished, that one stings the most.

16. What are your writing strengths? Dialogue. I like to think I have a pretty good ear for it (so to speak).

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Plot. 😅 I'm great at having characters sit around and talk, but I'm terrible at having things actually happen.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Complete neutrality. I've never done it, so I don't give it much thought.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Buffy the Vampire Slayer! And if you managed to dig up my old LiveJournal, you could still read it!

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? I love them for different reasons at different times. 😄

Tagging anyone who wants to play!

[yeah-yeah-beebiss-1]

my friend was asking me about Gundam and mecha, I'm not familiar so I thought I'd get your opinion on a good one to start with

Depends on what you want out of it, to be honest. Gundam is a very long-running franchise with a lot of different creative teams and visions (Star Trek is probably the best comparison I can think of, both have been sci-fi juggernauts for decades), to the point where they eventually split projects off into the original canon (Universal Century) and self-contained AUs to make it easier for newcomers to give it a shot. As far as good starting points go:

War in the Pocket: A 6-episode OVA set around the same time as the original series, but is self-contained and provides relevant context. Gorgeous late-80s animation, and a heartbreaking story about childhood innocence colliding with the realities of war. Between its short length, relative accessibility, and overall quality, this is probably the best sampler.

Mobile Suit Gundam movie trilogy: The original 1979 anime recut into three movies with some animation updates. It's very dated visually (whether this is a good thing or bad thing depends on personal taste) and introduces a lot of the eccentricities that would define the franchise for better or worse, but this is the most digestible way to start from the beginning. To go with the Star Trek analogy again, this is like jumping in with the original series - it shows its age in many ways, but its impact on science-fiction as a whole can't be understated and it still holds up when viewed with that context in mind.

The Witch from Mercury: The currently-airing series, the one people have been talking about as "the lesbian Gundam" for reasons that are quite obvious by the end of the first episode (technically the second if you watch it in the intended order, there's a prologue episode). It's a completely self-contained AU and takes on something of a slow burn, with the first half using the backdrop of an academic institution to slowly build up a setting of political tension, class conflict, and cycles of revenge. There have been comparisons to Fire Emblem: Three Houses and Revolutionary Girl Utena thrown around. The second half will begin airing next month, and seems poised to be the point where the tensions boiling in the first half boil to a head. Maybe it'll shit the bed as it goes on, that's the risk with jumping in to a currently-airing show, but I remain optimistic based on what's aired so far.

But yeah, Gundam is a daunting beast to stare down because there's so much of it and the quality can vary. There's no shame in picking and choosing/asking for recommendations. And moving out to mecha anime in general is a much, much broader affair - Gundam is to mecha anime what Dragon Ball is to shonen anime (a long-running, genre-defining franchise that is still just part of a much larger genre).

[norabrice1701]

Twist My Heart - Ch. 5

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Jake “Hangman” Seresin

- A TG:M Twister AU -

Series Main List

Also on AO3

Ch. 5 Warnings: Explicit 18+ NSFW sexual content; language; idiots in love

Bradley tries to tell himself nothing changes. But really… everything changes. 

Bradley slung his duffel bag over his shoulder, glancing across the parking lot through his aviators. The Dagger Labs team members scurried around, loading up the mobile lab equipment and getting ready to deploy across the state. Another promising weekend of supercell activity was forecasted and none of them wanted to miss a single moment. 

The Dagger 1 SUV sat just ahead and Bradley strolled up to the passenger door, frowning as he found the door locked. Glancing around, he couldn’t immediately locate Jake with the key, but the vehicle has never been locked before. 

“Not today, Rooster.” Javy’s voice sounded over his shoulder, and he turned with a confused look. The SUV key fob twirled on a keyring around Javy’s finger as he approached the vehicle. 

Bradley cocked his head towards the door. “Come on, unlock it. Or we’ll fall behind.” 

Javy shook his head. “You’re riding with Fanboy this time around - I’ve got the key and I choose my own wingman.” 

Bradley’s brow pinched above his sunglasses. “That’s not what the sheet says.” 

“Sheets can change.” Javy answered with a vague shrug. “Better get a move on if you don’t want to fall behind.” 

It was quite possibly the stupidest thing that Bradley’s heard in his professional days. Like, seriously, he couldn’t even ride in the same car as Jake? He glanced around, searching for the man in question but he came up empty. 

A horn honked across the parking lot. “Yo, Rooster!” Fanboy hollered eagerly. “Hop to, buddy! Those storms won’t wait.” 

Javy stood his ground, arching a brow that dared Bradley to challenge him. But Bradley just stood there, too stunned to make a scene as his mouth went dry and a pang of shame stabbed him in the chest. Especially as he glimpsed Jake finally exiting the lab building, eyes shield behind sunglasses that betrayed nothing. If Jake saw anything about Bradley’s ultimate walk of shame over to Fanboy in Dagger 3, nothing about his expression changed as Javy unlocked Dagger 1 and they both disappeared into the SUV’s interior. 

It had been an age since Bradley last rode with Fanboy, but he learned more about Star Trek than he ever cared to know. 

The memory still stings. The petty rejection still constricts his chest. The obvious dismissal still rankles his nerves. But Jake proves to be the master of indifference and distance, and Bradley can’t even get close to him.  

So, Bradley broods works. He hides sits behind his computer. He dwells thinks. And he fails tries to make progress on his tornadic behavior model. At least, the data starts to align and corroborate the theory behind it. He digs into all facets of the atmospheric model to confirm the code streams and inputs until his eyes turn dry and itchy. His stomach rumbles with hunger and maybe he should stop. Or maybe he should… 

The squeak of office chair wheels jarred Bradley’s attention. He didn’t know how late it was but he vaguely remembered it was Sunday afternoon. Or at least… it used to be afternoon. He blinked up from his computer screen, stomach sinking to see Mav’s gentle smile as he rolled a chair up to Bradley’s desk. He dropped to sit, heavy concern lurking behind his casual expression. Bradley just resisted the urge to sigh, instead cocking his head with impatience. 

The corner of Mav’s mouth lifted higher. “You know, you are so much like your dad in so many ways.” 

“Yeah,” Bradley said, voice rough from recent disuse. “So you’ve told me before.” 

“Except when you get like this.” Mav continued, eyes softening with memory. “See, Goose - he… if something bothered him or if I did something stupid that he didn’t like, he let me hear about it. Every time. One time, he even asked if I had the phone number for a truck driving school because he was so sure I’d get us fired from our first job before we started this place…” he trailed off for the space of a breath, shaking his head gently. “He never let problems fester, he never bottled them up - he faced them straight on. And your mom was the same way - she never had tolerance for sulky bullshit, either; so I have no idea where you get it from. So, come on,” he nudged Bradley’s foot with supportive encouragement. “What’s going on?” 

Too many words crawled up Bradley’s throat to make sense of. How could he possibly confess his impossible love for a man who ignored and dismissed him at every turn? How could he possibly confess that he was the one who made said man ignore and dismiss him at every turn? It was completely a mess of Bradley’s own making, and the last thing he needed was any of Mav’s supposed advice on romance. Wetting his top lip, he shook his head. “It’s nothing serious,” he replied, hoping his tone sounded casual enough. “Just a funk, you know… trying to get this behavior model to work on top of the busy field work.” 

“You’ve been balancing the development of this model and the field work for some time now without any issues, Brad.” Mav’s tender tone pierced him to the core as his childhood nickname echoed in his ears. “I don’t think that’s really it.” The chair creaked as Mav leaned back, casting a glance over at the adjacent, empty workstation. “Did Hangman do something? Or did you do something?” 

Bradley’s eyes widened as he stiffened. “No… why? Did Javy say something?” 

“Javy?” Mav’s eyebrows climbed to his hairline. “Is he involved in this, too? I mean, I’m hardly one to talk about a couple, but a throuple…? Not that there’s anything wrong-” 

“Oh, fuck’s sake,” Bradley cut him off, cheeks burning. “There’s definitely no throuple, and certainly no couple.” 

“But there could be.” Mav shrugged a shoulder. “Why not, right? There could be whatever you want - if you face it straight on and don’t let it fester.” 

Bradley’s throat tightened. “That doesn’t… it won’t….” his gaze strayed to Jake’s desk without permission. “He doesn’t…” 

“How do you know? Mav asked softly. “Have you asked him?” 

Despite himself, Bradley slowly shook his head. “No… somehow, I don’t think he’d answer me.” 

“You’d probably be surprised. And if he doesn’t answer you in the way that you want, well… that’s still an answer. It’s still something that could pull you out of the slump you’ve fallen into.” 

“Yeah, sure - and into a different slump.” 

“Then, let’s call it closure,” Mav said gently. “Otherwise, you sit around here thinking for too long, then one day, you’ll look up… and he’ll be gone.” 

“That's what he wants,” Bradley heard himself say, ripping his gaze away from Jake’s desk. “He doesn’t want to be tied down.” 

“Or maybe he’s just waiting for you to give him a reason.” 

Bradley scoffed. “You can’t possibly know that.” 

“No,” Mav agreed, eyes twinkling with sudden mischief. “But there’s only one way for you to find out.” 

He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes as if to squash the memory. The words have nagged at him for the last week, and maybe there’s some wisdom there worth heeding… but it doesn’t matter if he can’t get Jake alone to talk. 

After all, the hope of anything with Jake is a fool’s hope. Bradley’s known that from the first minute Jake waltzed into the lab with his dazzlingly brilliant smile, sun-kissed skin, and grass-green eyes gleaming with dangerous red flags. And still Bradley let the man get under his skin, burrow in his chest, and take root in his heart. Maybe he’s just more of a glutton for punishment than he wants to admit. 

But so long as there’s storms in the sky and tornadoes to chase, then maybe that will be enough. 

He turns back to his computer screen with a sigh, deciding to call it a night. His watch reads 11:01 PM, after all, and it shouldn’t be a problem to find a place for a drink on a Saturday night. It takes the software a few minutes to shut down and he gives his inbox a final once over before the hiss of the door’s hydraulic hinge catches his attention. 

His stomach sinks to his feet as Jake pushes through the door, arms laden with a box of gear. He darts a cool glance over at Bradley but otherwise says nothing as he threads around the workstations towards his own. The longer Bradley watches him, the more his heart starts to race and a shiver of anticipation runs up his spine. Mav’s words echo in his head, but is this truly the right moment? 

He doesn’t care if he’s staring as Jake drops the box to his desktop. “Did you just get back?” He asks softly. 

“Obviously so.” Jake answers without looking over. “Flat tire outside Wakita, small town shop… you know how it goes.” 

Bradley nods. “In that case, I’m surprised you’re back already.” 

Jake shrugs a disinterested shoulder. “Got lucky this time, s’all.” 

A beat of silence passes as Bradley’s tongue grows heavy. He debates the wisdom of his next words, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. “Are you heading home? I was just about to leave and grab a drink, you know, if you… want…” 

Jake turns to face him, pinning him in place with his sharp eyes. Something infinitely tired lurks in those green depths, as well as something that Bradley can’t place - but it’s something that makes him want to wrap Jake in his arms and never let go. Jake sighs sharply. “Look, Bradley…” 

Bradley. 

The word drops like lead in Bradley’s stomach as his heart stops, waiting on bated breath as Jake sighs again before continuing. “Look, you don’t owe me anything, okay? No apology, no explanation, no amends. I get it, alright?” 

Bradley’s brow furrows, gaze pinching with confusion. “What? What… do you get?” 

Jake huffs an incredulous breath. “You’re really going to make me fucking say it?” He shakes his head with a scoff. “You fucking turn me down, and then you expect me to fucking explain how you don’t want me?” 

“What?” Bradley pushes to his feet, stunned. “For fuck’s sake, that’s not it at all.” 

Jake crosses his arms defensively against his chest. “Well, you’ve been pretty clear about your intentions… or lack thereof. And if you’re wallowing in some gay self-identity experimentation crisis, then I want no-”

“Just shut up, Jake, please.” Bradley’s heart breaks as he watches Jake freeze. A flash of vulnerability sparks in those lovely green eyes, and Bradley’s legs move without his brain’s permission. The intoxicating, familiar notes of Jake’s day-worn cologne reach his nose, and Bradley abandons his brain altogether to trust his heart. “Jake…” he starts softly with a trembling breath. “I knew my preferences and who I was long before you walked through that door and stole my heart.” A hot flush burns his cheeks as the corner of his mouth lifts. “You’ve had it for years whether or not you wanted it… and that’s what I was never sure of.” 

Jake stares back at him, blinking in quick succession and tiling his head as if his whole fundamental understanding of Bradley has shifted. 

And maybe it has. Or maybe… Bradley hopes it has. His heart hammers against his rib cage as he works a swallow down his dry throat. “See, if I’d kissed you that morning… or any other morning,” Bradley continues, his voice thready as he drowns in Jake’s eyes. “Once would never be enough for me. But if once was enough for you… then, I don’t think I-” 

His words die against the sudden press of Jake’s mouth. He’s caught off guard for only a millisecond before he returns the fierce kiss, leaving Jake no room to doubt the truth of his words. The warm, soft touch of Jake’s smooth lips shoots sparks down his spine and makes his heart soar. His mouth falls open, drawing a desperate breath and inhaling everything about Jake Seresin that clouds his senses. His head swims as they heave for breath together, overwhelmed by the powerful revelation of the moment. 

“Just shut up, Bradley,” Jake rasps against his lips before tilting his head to nuzzle Bradley’s nose. “It’s taken you long enough to get here as it is.” 

A stupid grin curls Bradley’s mouth as he raises a hand to cup Jake’s jaw, holding him close. “You weren’t exactly helping.” 

“Wasn’t sure what you wanted.” Jake leans into his touch, sighing as Bradley’s thumb caresses his cheek. “Wanted you to get off that perch… but needed you to stop thinkin’ so much, first.” 

Bradley guides Jake’s mouth back to his, pouring out long pent-up affection. The indulgent kiss moves slowly, with heart-wrenching tenderness as they bask in each other, in the shared recognition of their hearts’ desires. Heat sings in Bradley’s blood, stoked higher as their tongues brush and a moan pitches in Jake’s throat. 

Bradley wraps an arm around Jake’s waist, drawing him in. “Can’t guarantee you won’t still have to help me with that,” Bradley breathes, brushing his mustache along Jake’s upper lip and delighting in his answering shiver. “God, I want to take you home,” he murmurs, sliding his hand from Jake’s jaw to the fine hairs on his neck. “Want you in my bed. Want to take you apart, want to learn everything about you.” 

Jake pulls back, angling his head just enough to meet Bradley’s gaze. His skin holds an endearing flush, and his beautiful green eyes are blown to thin rings around hungry black pools. He searches Bradley’s eyes in return, and something softens on his face, tempering the desire in his eyes with the conviction of a decision made. “You know, Wheel of Fortune was Mom’s favorite show. Especially towards the end.” A visible swallow works the muscles of his throat. “But even before that, the local station played it everyday for an hour right about the time I got home from school. It was the only time Mom and I had together when my dad wasn’t… well, wasn’t making trouble of one kind or another.” 

The gravity of the words stun him. Bradley’s heart sticks in his throat as his brain races to catch up. Every part of him believes it’s true - and no wonder Hangman is so good at Hangman if he’s watched so much of that show. But why hasn’t he just left Bradley guessing? Maybe it’s an olive branch. Or maybe it’s a sign of his genuine affection. Either way, Bradley can’t hold back a fond smile as he swipes his thumb in a tender line against the back of Jake’s neck. “And here I was hoping to guess it with at least a one-in-five record.” He replies, leaning in to press a featherlight kiss to the tip of Jake’s nose. “Why are you telling me?” 

Jake’s eyes glitter with his trademark cocky mischief. “I told you that I had every intention of winning, didn’t I?” 

Bradley groans, channeling a stab of long-familiar frustration into his simmering arousal, and surging forward to claim Jake’s mouth in a bruising kiss. Jake grins triumphantly into the embrace, purring like the cat who got the cream as Bradley licks into his mouth and threads his fingers into soft, blonde locks. He gives a gentle tug, and the groan that rumbles in Jake’s chest sets him ablaze. He draws back as they gasp for breath, resting their foreheads together. “You’re going to send me to an early grave, aren’t you?” 

The affectionate curl of Jake’s mouth fills his vision. “But what a way to go, darlin’.” 

Bradley drifts awake, blinking against the bright glow of dawn. A lethargic satisfaction lingers in his muscles as he shifts an arm against the mattress to glance at his wristwatch. 

9:56 AM 

“If you yawn just once,” Jake teased, dragging his tongue down from Bradley’s navel. “Then, I will just put you to bed without putting you through the bed first.” 

Bradley shook his head against the pillow, trailing a hand across Jake’s shoulder. “Hardly my fault that you’ve kept me up past my bedti-” The word died on a gasp as the heat of Jake’s mouth descended, enveloping the hard length of his cock as Jake’s fingers twisted deep inside of him. “Just don’t - oh, fuck - just don’t mistake gasping for yawning…” 

Jake hummed before adding a third finger and Bradley’s back arched off the bed at the rush of pleasure as they brushed his white-hot nerve. 

A drowsy, lovesick grin teases Bradley’s lips as he turns his head against the pillow, amused at the sight of his bedmate. Jake’s blonde hair sticks up and out in every direction as he sleeps, still curled in the bedsheet. The morning light catches in the broad, bronzed muscles of his shoulders and chest, and god… maybe it’s creepy, but Bradley can’t stop staring. Or smiling. 

Because he did it. He finally took that leap, made that plunge… didn’t let it fester, as Mav had said. And already, he can already picture his godfather’s shit-eating grin when Bradley delivers the news that he and Jake have, in fact, sorted out their shit. 

But not yet. In fact, Bradley intends to keep Jake all to himself for as long as possible. He shifts against the mattress, tucking closer to Jake and sneaks an arm behind the pillow. Angling his hand, his fingers skim through the mussed blonde hair and his heart relaxes as if relieved to confirm that Jake isn’t some figment of his imagination. Though, the pleasant ache between his legs is all the confirmation he needs of that. 

As is his burgeoning erection as Jake groans and leans into the caress of his fingers. Those sharp green eyes open, undimmed by the late night or the fog of sleep, as he sees only Bradley. The quiet intimacy stretches between them, and maybe it should be awkward… but it’s the most comfortable Bradley has ever felt with a partner. 

Jake blinks lazily. “You got a thing for my hair, Roo?” 

The nickname warms Bradley’s heart. “Your sex-mussed bedhead is just too adorable, I’m afraid.” 

“Pfft, adorable.” Jake scoffs, more amused than offended. “That’s not the word a grown man wants to hear.” 

“Better get used to it.” Bradley trails his fingers down along Jake’s temple, teasing the blonde locks back and grazing the shell of Jake’s ear. A soft sigh passes Jake’s lips as a shiver works along his skin, and Bradley’s blood heats with tender affection. “Because you are adorable - hell, you’re practically purring.” 

Despite their naked states of undress beneath the bedsheets and the intimacy shared last night, a spark of vulnerability ignites in Jake’s eyes. He regards Bradley for a long second, teasing his bottom lip in a moment of indecision. It reminds Bradley of the same look from the lab last night - just before Jake shared the story about his mom and his childhood. And perhaps… perhaps that’s the biggest sign of Jake’s affection - his trust. 

“Well, you just…” Jake pauses and pinches his mouth shut as if he might regret his words before he eventually lets himself continue. “You look at me like I count for something, you know? And there just, uh… just hasn’t been a lot of that in my life.”  

Bradley blinks as the gravity of Jake’s words sets in. He brings his other hand to cup Jake’s jaw as he shuffles to Jake’s pillow, pressing their foreheads together. “You count for everything, Jake Seresin. Don’t you ever doubt it.” He holds Jake close as if to physically transfer the idea to Jake’s mind. “And if anyone else has ever made you think differently, then I guess I have my work cut out for me, because you deserve -” 

Jake’s mouth surges against his with firm conviction. And yes, this is better. So much better to show Jake just how loved, desired, valued, wanted he is. They breathe into each other’s mouths as tongues tease and leisurely explore. Maybe on anyone else Bradley would balk at morning breath, but he’s too far gone to care as Jake’s hand trails down the ridges of his spine. Bradley moans as those strong hands find his hips, urging him closer and tugging the bedsheet out of the way. 

Bradley’s body settles atop Jake’s, slotting into place like the puzzle piece long absent from his life. Even after last night, he can’t get enough of Jake’s glorious skin and he wastes no time to lavish affection down the strong neck muscles, loving Jake’s reaction as the hairs of his mustache tickle sensitive skin. Jake’s hips roll up against his and their heated embrace grows as their cocks slide together. Delicious need pools at the base of Bradley’s spine and he wants to make Jake feel so good, so loved, so… everything. 

Because that’s exactly what he means to Bradley. And the realization makes his heart sing as he slides his mouth back to Jake’s, drowning in another delirious kiss. 

Jake’s hand slides down, squeezing Bradley’s backside as he moans into Bradley’s mouth. “Want you… inside me this time, yeah?” He pulls back just enough, searching Bradley’s face. “What’d you say, hmm?” 

Bradley goes dizzy as the last of his blood rushes from his brain to his already straining cock. It’s overwhelming how much Jake is offering him, and god, Bradley needs to breathe. He works a swallow down his dry throat. “Jake, you… you have no idea how much I would love that.” His hips rock down without permission, stirring a whimper high in Jake’s throat. “But only if you’re sure… you don’t - don’t do it just for me, okay? I’ll wait for you -” 

“Well, what if I don’t want to wait?” Jake interrupts, nipping his bottom lip teasingly. “I’ve only let one other person do it, and I knew he wasn’t the real deal… but you? If you’re not careful, Roo - you’re the endgame.” 

Bradley finds one of Jake’s hands and pins it down to the mattress, interlocking their fingers. He meets Jake’s mouth in another breathless, messy kiss as they melt together. “Like I said,” Bradley breathes, squeezing Jake’s hand. “You count for everything - and if I have to tell you that everyday for the rest of your life for you to believe it, then I will.” 

Another whimper pitches in Jake’s throat as his fingers grip Bradley tight. The distance between them only grows just enough for Bradley to reach out for the bedside table. He can’t keep his eyes off Jake’s face or stop kissing the moans from his lips as Bradley works slick fingers inside of Jake, slowly teasing, slowly stretching tight muscles. He can’t keep silent as he sinks into the heat of Jake’s body, loving everything about the man stretched out beneath him. He can’t keep from rocking his hips in deep thrusts until they both see stars and tumble into euphoric oblivion entangled together. 

Sweat clings to his skin as he pants heavily against Jake’s neck. The blonde beneath him groans with languid satisfaction as his hands relinquish their tight grip on Bradley’s shoulders. Secretly, he hopes for a bruise mark or two, and a latent curl of heat flares up his spine despite his soft cock slipping from Jake’s body. 

Jake turns, nuzzling Bradley’s cheek. “So… rest of my life, huh?” 

A momentary thought of regret lances through Bradley, because okay - perhaps it’s a heavy thing to say after just one night, but the sentiment behind it couldn’t be more genuine. Despite the intimate press of their bodies, an embarrassed flush comes to Bradley’s cheeks. “Only if you want,” he says with a lovesick grin that he’s unable to hide. “You know… if you’ll have me.” 

A stupefied look brightens Jake’s beautifully flushed face - like he can’t believe his ears - and his gorgeous eyes wrinkle with a grateful, loving smile. “You so sure about that…?” He sighs with drunken contentment as he holds Bradley in a tight hug. “I mean, I steal bed sheets.” 

Bradley presses the tip of their noses together. “I don’t get that cold.” 

“And I still like Wheel of Fortune.” 

Bradley smiles fondly. “I’ll learn your secret strategies.” 

Jake’s eyes glitter with unrestrained happiness as they narrow with that familiar cocky, teasing edge. “And I’m an unapologetic Cowboys fan.” 

An affectionate, unguarded laugh barks from Bradley’s chest. “The Eagles are way so much better, but I forgive you.” 

“Careful now,” Jake taunts. “Them’s fighting words.” 

“S’that so?” Bradley pecks his lips for a quick kiss before pressing another to the corner of Jake’s mouth. “And just how many Super Bowls have the Cowboys won in the last 20 years?” 

Jake surges up, lunging at him, and Bradley goes willingly against the bed as they roll over. Jake slides against him, holding each other close as their hips reconnect and their mouths tangle together. Bradley sighs with unrestrained happiness as he runs his fingers through Jake’s hair. "You got a funny way of fighting."

"Only you, Roo." Jake breathes, eyes bright and beautiful. "Just you."

Series Main List

Tag List: @redfurrycat

[windwardstar]

20 Questions For Fic Writers

Taggged by: @typicalopposite

How many works do you have on ao3?

12

What's your total ao3 word count?

400,082

What fandoms do you write for?

i only have modao zushi/ the untamed fics written

Top five fics by kudos:

I Have Been Selfish Too 1,720

One for Sorrow; Two for Joy 964

Face 468

Our Choices Not Undone 460

I Shall Bear the Blame 355

And the one with the fewest Kudos is: A Man in Time You'll Be with 11

Do you respond to comments?

Yes I do. It took a while to get up to this point though because social anxiety sucks. and also words are hard for my brain so i'm not always the most prompt at responding to them. but i do try. and i love getting them.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I simply do not write angst endings. beginnings and middles tho...

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I don't know. they're all happy endings. However One for Sorrow; Two for Joy and The Father of Your Child are apparently the ones with the votes

Do you get hate on fics?

yeah, occasionally. and i avoided explicitly writing certain headcanons and such early on because of it. but now a combination of the social anxiety being worked through and positive responses to them has made me decide it's worth it even if i get the hate

Do you write smut?

i do not in general. however the trans fic has made me include e rated content however like.. i have a tendency to forget to include the actual romantic attraction when i write romances? yeah the one smut scene i have written (and won't actually appear in the story for A WHILE) is like yes it's a sex scene, yes they're technically having sex, but in like the acest way possible. I've just made all the characters somewhere on the aroace spectrum because that's so much easier and also hey aroace rep. Also the way my planning for this fic has approached it is also involving so many gender feelings like.

So i guess the answer is no, i don't write smut. i do however have plans to write scenes where characters engage in sexual activities.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

no?

Have you ever had a fic translated?

no. although that would be cool if someone wanted to.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes I have with @langwrites. a mzds cooking show au.

Nailed It! Ee-I-Ee-I-Oh No!

All time favorite ship?

i don't know.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i work on one (now 2!) projects at a time until i finish them. Both A Man in Time You'll Be and Who You Condemn are gonna be finished

What are your writing strengths?

I am apparently very good with characterization. Although it is the thing I feel like I worry over the most because i always feel like i don't understand characters the way others do and that i'm missing things. But maybe that's why i end up with good characterization? is that i do put so much effort into doing it well that I actually make sure the characters are in character?

What are your writing weaknesses?

what aren't my weaknesses rip. words are hard. everything about writing is hard when my brain can't think and dumps language.exe when it needs to shed cognitive load.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

that it would be so useful to be able to do if like it was also something the readers could also understand. like. give me star trek communicators that instantly translate everything flawlessly so that i can have characters speaking in the actual languages they'd be speaking, changing between them as natural, and that then the readers would be able to follow. also that i could also have it written in that language despite not speaking it. Like. the fact i am limited to just english when writing is a shame.

also i love it when other writers do it like yes give me the language work. real languages. conlangs. (i also love it when movies do that. and like one of the things i really lament about writing is that it's not a movie and it's harder to just have the constant audio and visual elements that movies have flavoring things in the background. like movies can just include things as background without drawing attention to it, books you have to, even if it's trying to include the mention of it in as mundane and everyday as possible, it still ends up standing out by virtue of being mentioned.)

First fandom you wrote in?

mcu circa 2015. bucky barnes winter soldier thing regarding him having a flashback in the freezer aisle of a grocery store or something i think.

i remembered the title and the tumblr search actually worked?!?! so uh have the link. Freezer Burned

Favorite fic you've written?

Hmm.. I don't know. I think I like them all for their own things but then don't tend to reread any of them because then I notice all the flaws. I'm also very good about just forgetting about things once I've stopped working on them.

So I'll say the trans fic A Man in Time You'll Be because it is one that I'm currently working on. but ALSO because it is like also a project I'm working on that's explicitly about being self-indulgent and including all the headcanons and fun ideas that I want and not worrying about like anything beyond "does this bring joy?" which I hope even after I'm done with it that it retains a fond place in my heart for just what it is to me.

Tagging: @langwrites @writer-and-artist27 and anyone else who wants to do this. no pressure. but like totally hop in even if i didn't tag you .

[mylittleredgirl]

dear fluff exchange author

thank you so much for writing for me! i hope you will have fun with this match. i'm very easy to please as a reader and love being surprised. in addition to my requested tags, please feel free to write to any of my likes below, or to similar tropes as long as you avoid my DNWs.

please click the read more for all my thoughts and feelings!

--

🥰 general fluff notes: i enjoy the whole spectrum of human connection: deep friendship, ensemble-as-family, and romance across the full pre-ship to established relationship spectrum. i have a special love for the early stages of a new relationship, where characters are just figuring out how the other person likes to be loved. complications and challenges, especially those that tie into the characters' canon lives and character flaws are delightful. i find fluff most rewarding when it's still tied into the canon setting/genre, but within that, i love what-if canon divergence (especially when it sidesteps character death or keeps the ensemble together). angst, hurt/comfort, etc as fluff fuel is welcome!

--

💕 i love: canon divergence | complications (e.g. working together while in a relationship, emotional baggage, canon happenings, etc) | episode-related fics | fix-its | friends to lovers | happy/hopeful endings | healing through connection | hurt/comfort | “it’s just casual” to lovers | keeping the family together | meaningful friendships | new just-figuring-it-out relationships | other canon characters included in the fic | pining | 5-times | all ratings are welcome | treats are welcome too!

🔥 kinks enjoyed: aliens made them do it (or local canon dubcon equivalent) | blow jobs | body worship (especially related to body changes like aging, scars, weight gain, etc) | edging | hand jobs | masturbation | non-penetrative sex (not that i’m opposed to penetrative sex, just another thing i enjoy!) | overindulgence (food, drinks, sex, etc) | soft dom/sub (bondage and praise yes, pain and shame no) | telepathy | watching/voyeurism | sweet i-love-you sex works for me too!!

⛔️ DNWs: alternate-setting AUs (law office, coffee-shop, etc; large and small canon divergences are welcome though!) | bashing of other characters or past canon relationships | cannibalism | crossovers (except between series in the same universe, like star trek) | hurt no comfort | non-canon nicknames | non-con between requested characters (dubcon ok) | non-sexual bodily fluids in sex scenes | permanent character death | spelling out accents (for human characters) | unplanned pregnancy | zombies or blood-sucking vampires (other canon-typical aliens and cryptids are welcome!).

--

⛑ M*A*S*H ⛑

this is my latest fandom and i'm obsessed! margaret is my favorite disaster at the moment, but i love them all soooo much and want to study them in a terrarium.

by the time of reveals, i will likely have seen up through season 6, so i prefer stories using that canon knowledge (it's a preference, not a dnw, so please don't stress if you can't remember when something happened!).

special pairing notes: for hawkeye & margaret, but pre-ship/heading toward romantic is totally allowed as long as it's mostly focused on the friendship stage. to my questionable shame, i really enjoy the kiss slap kiss frank/margaret ship -- it's not a pairing i requested, but it's fine to include their canon relationship in any fic.

extra prompts and thoughts:

it has been the longest day, week, or year of their lives...

[relationship] are trapped away from camp for 24 hours and have an unexpectedly great and/or terrible time

[relationship] are away from camp for 24 hours on purpose (a pass, meeting with the brass somewhere, etc) and have a great and/or terrible time

i have such a soft spot for the developing surrogate father/daughter relationship between colonel potter and margaret, and would weep happy tears for anything that brings them closer together

i nominated the "one canon change makes everything fluffier" tag specifically because i had just seen the episode "kim." if that adoption had ultimately gone through, how would it change the relationships in camp if they had this kind of shared child back in the states? (and maybe, how would it change their return home after the war?)

--

👽 Stargate SG-1 👽

clone sam/jack are my highly specific pairing darlings! i love the mixed blessing and curse of having the chance to live their lives over. the "growing old together" tag can be interpreted as "growing up together" (or if you wanted to do a flash-forward to the traditional meaning, go for it!).

dnw notes: please don't have sam & jack change their first names. i usually dnw unexpected pregnancy, but it's ok for this pairing.

prompts:

one of them gets injured or is somehow in danger -- they used to deal with far worse every week, so why does this feel different?

a field trip (school-sanctioned or one of their own)

when/how does this life start to feel like their own?

--

🌃 Stargate Atlantis 🌃

sheppard/weir is my bulletproof otp. it's hard to go wrong! i love the early stages of their professional relationship and friendship when they're figuring each other out, and how john immediately becomes ride-or-die as soon as she defends him on earth. i'm fine with any way you choose to deal or not deal with the replicator arc as long as she survives and comes home and at her core she's still elizabeth.

prompts:

john and the challenge of giving/receiving affection (and Having A Feeling in general) is always fun to play with...

getting stuck off-world for 24 hours and having an unexpectedly great and/or terrible time

sexual healing by mapping each other's scars

--

🛸 The X-Files 🛸

this show was one of my first loves, and season nine inspired me to join online fandom for the first time! i love the season nine relationships between the agents, with all the growing friendship, trust, and potential romance. when it comes to fluff, i started thinking about all the tragic children and how things might have gone if one or more of them had stayed alive/stayed around... especially if the rest of the harsh backdrop of the x-files universe doesn't change.

i love (appropriate familial and friendship) adult & child relationships, especially when it leads to some healing for the adult! that said, i have a strong preference for canon children rather than OCs.

prompts:

season nine agents get snowed in overnight with ghosts (dealer's choice if they're paranormal ghosts or the metaphorical ghosts they're all carrying around...) and it brings them closer together

emily lives!! (either healthy or still ill) how does that unexpected new challenge/blessing impact both scully and mulder?

monica's dedication to loving people on purpose is one of the reasons i love her so much... how do doggett and/or scully return the favor?

--

🍄 Star Trek: Discovery 🍄

discoveryyyyyyy. the final frontier of feelings. i love them so much!!! if you choose to write about pike or spock, classic trek and strange new worlds canon are fair game. relationship info going into the bullet points below:

pike/vina... a childhood ship came back in a huge way in the discovery episode "if memory serves." i would LOVE really anything about them, but i think all the time about how perhaps she might show up in his dreams via illusion powers, or what if she left with him after "the cage" or especially after "if memory serves" now that he has grown and changed himself...

pike & the crew of discovery: una, who knows him quite well, called him entirely unsentimental... but in the last episode of season 2, in pike's goodbye to the crew, he calls them "family" (and i cried about it). how did that happen?

michael and spock!!!! oh god i have so much love for them, and how spock must continue to think about her. that tag about "leaving notes in books" when they're children, and perhaps later in his autobiography or another message he hopes will reach the future...

michael feeling loved and accepted by her adopted family as a child and her crew as an adult in any form that might take <3

--

whew!! i hope something here was inspiring! i look forward to reading and loving whatever you write.

[bookgeekgrrl]

My media this week (28 Jan-3 Feb 2024)

📚 STUFF I READ 📚

🥰 The Last Devil to Die (Thursday Murder Club #4) (Richard Osman, author; Fiona Shaw, narrator) - still loving the characters, love to hang out with them & Osman's plots move along nicely so you don't get bored at all. Fiona Shaw's narration is great & as a little treat she & Osman have a nice little chat at the end.

🥰 Four Letter Word For Intercourse (bendingsignpost) - 194K, destiel AU - adult college student Dean & professor (and phone sex worker) Cas - LOVE this fic so much & had kind of forgotten about it until it came up as a rec in one of my romance discord servers. Just, so good.

😊 Mrs Sidhu Investigates (Suk Pannu, author; full voice cast) - 2 episodes of the BBC Radio 4 program: #1 Murder with Masala; #2 Mrs Sidhu's Dangerous Highland Game - I prefer the slight changes made for the TV show's characterizations but still eminently enjoyable. (Meera Syal still absolutely rules!)

🥰 Lucky Bounce (Cait Nary) - extremely delightful hockey romance. Low/no angst, charming, cutie MCs. Definitely in the 'no plot, just vibes' category which honestly I love when done skillfully.

💖💖 +102K of shorter fic so shout out to these I really loved 💖💖

Ye Olde YouTube Love Story (Aria_Lerendeair) - The Sandman: Dreamling, 7K - love dreamling human AUs

Any Givens Sundae (dancinbutterfly) - Justified: Boyd/Raylan, 25K - excellently written 'what-if' pinging off a random line of dialogue: what IF Raylan had retired & decided to sell ice cream?

A Warning from Henry the Eighth (Writer_at_the_Table) - "I'm Henry VIII I Am" - Herman's Hermits: , 152 - a villianelle about I'm 'Enry The Eighth by Herman's Hermits - the creativity & cleverness of fan makers truly is boundless

master of a nothing place (strzyga) - Star Trek: Spirk, 6K - short, great fic about Spock going feral when they're trapped on a planet

📺 STUFF I WATCHED 📺

Austin City Limits - Pat Benatar & Neil Giraldo (s49, e9)

Austin City Limits - Duran Duran (s47, e11)

Murdoch Mysteries - s16, e7

Dirty Laundry - s3, e11

D20: Fantasy High: Junior Year - "Under Pressure" (s21, e4)

D20: Adventuring Party - "A Sea of Effluvia" (s16, e4)

Hazbin Hotel - s1, e1

🎧 PODCASTS 🎧

What Next: TBD - Why Is Everybody Sick?

Under the Influence with Terry O'Reilly - Cannabis Marketing

⭐ The Sporkful - Why Hibachi Gets Complicated

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - The Guerrero

How To! - How To Be Free Of Body Shame

⭐ The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Hello From The Otter Side

The Allusionist - 188. Lipread

The Weirdest Thing I Learned This Week - Nature's Weirdest Sleepers, Iron Maiden Myths, Parking Psychology

⭐ Today, Explained - Living in Zyn

It's Been a Minute - Ayesha Rascoe on 'HBCU Made' — and some good old college memories

⭐ Switched on Pop - The b*tch of loving musical theater (with Bridger Winegar)

99% Invisible #568 - Don't Forget to Remember

⭐ Vibe Check - You’ve Got Mouth Bangs, Girl

I Said No Gifts! - Lou Wilson Disobeys Bridger

Well, Now - How ER Taught Thousands Of Viewers About Cervical Cancer

Off Menu - Ep 220: Peter Capaldi

Films To Be Buried With - Kyle MacLachlan

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Seeking The (Minnesota-shaped) Forest Through The Trees - Part 1 & 2

Welcome to Night Vale #241 - He Is Still Holding a Knife

I Said No Gifts! - Zac Oyama Disobeys Bridger

Dear Prudence - Am I a Bigot If I Don’t Want to Date Foreigners? Help!

What Next: TBD - The Taylor Swift Deepfake Saga

It's Been a Minute - Charlamagne tha Pundit?; plus, was Tony Soprano white?

⭐ All Songs Considered - Why we still love Green Day

Under the Influence with Terry O'Reilly - The Marketing of Taylor Swift: (Taylor's Version)

Consider This from NPR - Masturbation Abstinence Is Popular, And Doctors Are Worried

⭐ You're Dead to Me - Madam C.J. Walker

🎶 MUSIC 🎶

Pop Radio • Romance

'80s Metal

The Cars Radio • Pump-up

Psychobilly Swing

Rock Mix • Party

Presenting Iron Maiden

[ezrisdax-archive]

I am having thoughts about hanahaki disease au in the star trek world and it being a disease that only effects klingons. and because of their redundant systems they can survive it a long time and consider it a warriors way to outlive it. even though it still kills most of them. and cutting it out is considered shameful.

and meanwhile b’elanna the one in this au who gets it thinks all this is stupid as it happens to her.