#you fell off the plot at least 4 years ago

[incarnateirony]

[imaginesmai]

Right around the corner (2) - Azriel

You asked and you shall recieve. Buckle up because this is long. Don't worry, there will be a part three, let me know what you think and if you have any request!

(1), (2), (3), (4), (5)

Plot: what happened after each time Azriel's family noticed something weird about him, and that time they found out.

Azriel counted the berries once more, checking that Cassian hadn’t opened the box again while he was distracted. It wouldn’t be the first time the general snuck into his room to take something he liked. His shadows, so used to his presence, sometimes didn’t bother to report it.

But the berries were untouched and he felt happy, for the first time in a long time.

Only the feeling of the fruit on his fingers had him shuddering, because as Cassian had said, he didn’t eat berries. He hated berries. Even if he had touched things far grosser than them, berries held a special place on his heart.

He kept his thoughts for himself and packed in a small bag the berries and other things he had bought. Then, he gathered his breath, excitement and other feelings close to his heart, and winnowed away from his room.

As soon as his feet touched the new ground, his shadows unfolded under his feet, ignoring any type of warning from their owner to stay quiet.

“Guys, come on” Azriel scoffed, watching the unfolding darkness around him. “You need to control yourselves. It’s getting out of hand”

The shadows did indeed slow and disappeared eventually, letting him see the familiar bakery. The shelves filled with baked goods, the counter with cookies for the children who came with their families, the pictures of Velaris and other places on the wall.

Azriel couldn’t keep the smile off himself when he noticed the familiar smell, cinnamon and fresh baked bread. For the first time in what felt like a week, his wings relaxed behind his back and his shoulders slumped down.

He felt like home.

“Sorry, we’re closed!” he heard a voice call from inside when he opened the door.

Something fell to the ground, followed by a curse, and then rushed steps came to greet him. A dirty apron, hand stained with flour and a pink smudge on a cheek appeared through the door.

“I’m sorry, you’ll have to – Az!”

Your laugh made his heart jump in his chest, and he quickly closed the distance between your bodies. Leaving the goods on the counter, he welcomed you with open arms. Azriel wasn’t a man of hugs, at least until he met you. Then, you created a new part of him that craved for contact, for your hugs and caresses.

Through the bond, he felt a tug of happiness and relief, and he sent his own emotions running wild. He had learnt by then it was good to share them, that you were a safe place for him and he had nothing to fear.

His leathers, that he had so carefully cleaned the previous day, met your dirty apron with eagerness. Your arms locked around his neck and his found your middle. Before he could greet you, your lips were on his.

They were soft against his chapped ones, and fit just as perfectly as the rest of your bodies.

Azriel answered the kiss with passion, taking a few clumsy steps forward until you almost touched the counter. He pressed you harder against him, until there was no air in between. No possible space.

Your lips parted and so did his, Azriel’s tongue teasing the seam of yours slowly. Your taste on his mouth almost had him going feral. Almost. Because just after the first brush against your tongue, you were pulling away and opening the bag he had brought with him.

“What’s this? Is this for me?” you turned and twisted on his arms until he was still holding you close, but with your back against his chest. “It’s big. And what’s – “

“You’re gonna drive me crazy” he chuckled, easily dragging you away from the bag.

It was easy to forget about the horrors of the world, about his problems, when he had you in his arms. The soft, lovely baker he had met five years ago as he investigated disappearances in Velaris, and that had offered him a piece of lemon pie because he seemed sad.

Sometimes, he found himself tearing up and thanking the Cauldron for the bond it had snapped between you two, overwhelmed by the feelings you awoke in him. The soft, lovely baker with the cruel, dark spymaster.

“I missed you” he leaned down and breathed against your neck, hearing your heart roaring. “So much”

“It’s only been three days” you tried to squirm away, but found his hands on your middle and squeezed them. “But I missed you more”

“Were my stolen shadows not a good company?” he pointed with his chin to the sneaky ones trying to hide in the kitchen.

“Certainly, more useful than their master around the kitchen – stop!”

He finally let you go after playfully biting your neck. Azriel looked into your eyes and knew that, if you asked, he would get rid of every and each one of his shadows so they could become your kitchen’s helpers. Not only the ones that had snuck on him to stay with you, but even his soul if you asked.

Before you could spoil the surprise, he left a last peck on the corner of your mouth and tore away. Azriel opened the bag and gave you the box of berries, which you squealed in happiness for.

“Fresh from the market. And I bought some other things you might need” he shrugged, as if thinking of you when he went grocery shopping wasn’t a big deal.

“You didn’t have to” you walked right by his side as he pulled things out of the bag, any space between you an offense. “But thank you”

As he explained what he had gotten and how hard had it been to convince Cassian that they didn’t need to try every brand of chocolate they had, you stayed glued to him.

There was a half-made cake on the kitchen that you needed to finish, hopefully before night time, but you didn’t move from his side. Since both of you had busy schedules, it was hard to meet and spend time together, even more when there were celebrations close and everyone wanted cakes and special desserts.

His arm eventually found its way around your waist, and by the time Azriel finished, you had both of yours wrapped around his middle, your head resting on his chest.

“I should put the berries on the cake before leaving tonight” you told him, knowing you two would spend the night together and the rest of your duties would have to wait until tomorrow. “Wanna help me?”

“Sure”

And for the next thirty minutes, Azriel held his gagging as he picked up berries and followed your instructions in the kitchen.

-

Azriel was late, and he hated that.

It had been a busy day at work, and the same hands that would probably hold you tonight had been stained with blood. He felt awful about it, and he ended up being even crueler than usual. The poor bastard who had been trying to steal information for Beron from the night court wouldn’t survive the night.

And because he was so focused on the feeling of his hands around you, he hadn’t noticed he still carried your present with him. Only noticed when the Fae got a chance at him and he fell on his ass, the necklace falling out of his pocket.

Azriel had been so worried for it that he hadn’t been able to proper defend himself. The male had gotten a few good hits and they had broken the necklace, when Azriel stepped on it. Thankfully, it had been only the chain.

Thankfully, he knew Mor could fix it and she had.

He had left his friend alone in her house and had willed himself to thank her instead of winnowing away.

Because he was late.

You had agreed to have dinner at your place, because five years ago, you had met each other in your bakery and the bond had snapped. And you liked to celebrate it together, as your anniversary, and spend a whole day together. Starting with the previous night, having dinner together.

Azriel used the key you had given him long ago and entered quietly in the apartment, his shadows making a quick assessment of the place. They came with the news he expected – you were already sleep, food cold in the kitchen table. What he didn’t expect was to see you sleeping in the kitchen table, your head between your arms and your body slumped down in a chair.

“Y/N” he called softly. He almost retched when his hand, that hours ago had been covered in blood, touched your bare shoulder. “Darling, you fell asleep. You want me to carry you to bed?”

The clock pointed to the number three, way past the time you had agreed to meet. Watching you asleep in such a weird position only made him feel worse. He sat on the empty seat next to you, moving the chair softly so that it didn’t disturb you.

Azriel moved his hand to your cheek, brushing the soft skin. You looked beautiful under the candle lights, even asleep. Part of him wanted to wake you only to crawl on the ground and tell you how he didn’t deserve you and how sorry he was. The other part felt already terrible enough and didn’t want to bother you more.

The decision was made for him when you opened lazily one eye. He had been absentmindedly caressing your face, and you had woken up to the best sight you could hope to.

So, ignoring his inner war and demons, you gave him a tired smile and nuzzled against his touch.

“Hey” you whispered. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I… I’m so sorry, darling” he choked out, already feeling the words stuck on his throat. “Work was tough today, and then something happened. I wanted to come here but – “

“It’s fine. You’re okay” you blinked at him. “I love you”

He blinked back at your words.

You had said it already multiple times, but Azriel had been unable to answer back. Even if he knew he loved you, that he rooted for you, he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud, afraid someone would come and take it away from him. Like any other good thing he had had in his life.

Instead of becoming upset or angry, you had kept saying it over and over again, as if somehow you knew how much he needed to hear it. How little he believed it at the beginning, when everything felt like a dream. Like a gift that wasn’t meant for him.

“I love you” you repeated softly.

There was only relief through the bond. At him being okay, at him being unharmed. Not disappointment at him for being late, or anger because of the wasted time. Just relief and love, so much love he forgot about the phantom blood on his hands.

“Are you hungry? I can reheat dinner” you finally rose from the table, looking at the untouched food. “I’m sorry, I think I ate almost half of it. I eat a lot when I worry”

“I’m sorry” he repeated. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I know it’s late, and I should have been here sooner. I’m sorry”

“Baby, it’s okay” you assured him.

You found his hand, the one that hadn’t fallen behind your neck, and brought it between your own. Looking at him in the eyes, you kissed the first knuckle starting from the left. He stared back while you kissed the scarred skin, so much rougher than yours. His hand was cold against your touch, big enough that you could hold it with both of yours.

You kissed each one of his knuckles, your eyes dropping with each kiss. Azriel noticed you were already fighting to stay awake. Still, you managed to comfort him enough so that the thought of sleeping with you didn’t feel as wrong as before.

“I don’t mind waiting for you, I know it’s not up to you” you explained, squeezing his hand. “You don’t owe me an explanation. Do you want to eat something?”

“No”

Azriel stared at you for a long second, fighting against the feeling in his chest. He felt the weight of the necklace on his pocket, but he knew it wasn’t the right moment. He would have to wait until the morning, because right then, there was only one thing he could think of.

He got up from the chair and bent down next to yours. Both of his hands tilted down your head so that your face was centimeters away from him, your breaths mixed. His eyes were filled with unshed tears that he knew he would drop as soon as he said it.

But first, he needed to make sure that, even if it was an unholy hour and you had every right to kick him out, you understood. You understood that he meant every word, every syllable. That he was right there because of you, and that without you, he would be nothing.

“I love you” he choked out, watching how your eyes widened. “I love you so, so much, Y/N”

“Az…”

“I love you” he repeated, finally breaking down.

Maybe it was the weight of the day, the blood on his hands. The feeling of having somewhere he belonged to, to come back to. He let the tears fall as you quickly caught them all with your thumbs, letting him hide his face on your lap and sob.

Sob for every year he had felt unloved and uncared, for every rejection and disappointment. For his family who didn’t love him, and for his real family, who cared enough for him to fix a broken necklace at three in the morning.

Azriel repeated the words between sobs and his body shook in your arms, his shields and barriers completely down. You caressed your hands through his hair and talked, about him and you, about how much you loved him back and how proud you were. Your words and feelings became part of his as he dissolved and was born new in your arms.

-

Training was something Azriel did naturally. Just as he breathed, as he talked, he trained his body to be on his best form. It wasn’t just Cassian who liked to train in the morning, but the shadowsinger liked his trainings private.

He used to train alone, with his shadows, because he believed training partners only slowed him down.

That had changed three years ago, when he found out that you didn’t train. At all.

And while he hadn’t minded about your different lifestyles, after that moment he wouldn’t stop thinking about possible situations you could face. Like an angry customer that could get violent with you. Or a robbery gone wrong. Even a walk where someone recognized you or smelt him on you.

Azriel spent as much time as he could by your side, but you two had separate lives. Even if he tried to keep his possessiveness and protectiveness in check, he couldn’t help himself.

For a whole month, he panicked in silence. Then, he came up with the idea of shared training. You jumped in the opportunity to spend time together, and Azriel discovered just how hard having a training partner was.

You didn’t know to move your body outside the kitchen, didn’t know how to defend or attack, and certainly couldn’t hold your ground. So he made it his mission to train you.

After three years, he could proudly say that his training partner could beat whoever she wanted.

“That was great” you panted besides him, both of you sitting against a wall, legs touching.

Azriel had one arm around your shoulder, not minding the sweat and additional heat. He was tired, ready to hit the shower, but couldn’t miss the opportunity to be near you. He took a swing at the bottle.

“If by great you mean I beat you again, yeah, I guess” Azriel chuckled, passing you the water. “You’re just lucky my shadows love you so much”

“I would call them my shadows. Right?”

Shadows circled your fingers and pushed the water can closer to you, happily moving between your two bodies. During the training, not only you held your ground, but had his shadows helping you. Azriel found himself tripping on them, being blinded and even restrained.

They had made it a habit to move around you like their second owner, but Azriel didn’t mind. He had been scared at the beginning that you would be afraid of them. Them being in love with you too wasn’t a problem at all.

You drank from the bottle and Azriel watched you with fascination. You were sweating, just like him, and most of your hair had fallen off your pony-tail braid. He fixed his eyes on it, having braided it himself just before training.

A sneaky, treacherous part of him wondered if your children would have his dark hair, or they would look like you. If his daughter would ask him to braid her hair and all the other kids at school would be jealous.

Busy staring at you, he didn’t notice your movement until you were sitting on his lap, your chest touching his and your arms around his shoulders.

From up close, he could see the beads of sweat running down your neck, and he could smell it too. Smell, apart from your usual, soft essence, your arousal.

“I must be the envy of every woman in Velaris” you started, nestling yourself just fine in his lap. “Watching the shadowsinger train”

“I am the luckiest man in Velaris, watching you train” he dropped his hands to your lower back. “Don’t you have things to do? Cakes to bake?”

“I was thinking about doing something, yeah” you leaned down and brushed your lips against his. “How much time do you have left?”

“Enough”

It had been foolish of him to think he would make it on time to the family game night, knowing you two would train just before it. There was nothing worse for his ego than knowing how much it turned you on watching him train, and certainly, there was nothing that turned him on more than watching you.

Your lips crashed against him just as roughly as he had tackled you earlier, and your hips moved against his pants. That were already painfully tight around his groin.

Azriel’s hand traveled up to your neck, until he could keep your head glued to him. You opened your mouth to him and his tongue didn’t ask for permission, just explored the already familiar place.

With his right hand, he pushed you back and forward against him. He groaned when your own fingers traced the back of his neck, moving down his shoulders and chest.

He kissed you as if you would disappear, as if there wasn’t enough time in the world to properly show you how much he loved you. His hands were eager against your body, hard but loving. Barely able to breath, Azriel slanted his mouth over yours, tongues intertwined.

You were pushed away from his mouth when he found your braid, tugging you back so he could access your neck.

“Az, please”

“Please what?” he grunted against your throat, his voice deep and rough. “Want me to do what?”

“If you don’t get into my pants now, I’m letting the shadows do the work”

You were pressed even closer to him, and suddenly, your hair was let down. He moved his expertly fingers through your hair and braid, letting it fall undone. Azriel couldn’t even start to describe how much he loved your hair. Gripping it, caressing, pulling it back.

He quickly let the rubber band fall against his wrist, knowing fully well he would have to shower a few times to hide your smell from his family because of what he was about to do.

Without letting go of your hair, he managed to unzip your pants and get you to stand up enough to get one leg free.

“Remember that I have your rubber band” he said quietly, already forgetting about it when he touched your soaked panties. “Cauldron, Y/N. You won’t be walking straight for a week”

You couldn’t answer, his skilled fingers finally finding you where you needed him. You only had time to crash your lips once more against his so he swallowed down your first moan.

-

Azriel had thought you would be mad. That it would be the first argument in six years together, that he had crossed a line. After two days in a murderous rage, after slaughtering so many Illyrians, he had almost lost sense of reality.

He had appeared in your bakery late at night, knowing he would find you there stress-baking. He had broken down on Rhys’ shoulder, and broke down once more as he saw the worry and panic on your eyes, the unshed tears.

Azriel had thought you would scream at him that he didn’t have any right, that he was crazy. Territorial, male bullshit, you had told him many times. Though he didn’t regret it, he feared your reaction.

But you had only crushed him in a hug, leaving the unbaked cookies on the table and rushing to him. He crumbled once more against your body, like that night when he finally said that he loved you.

He could still see the wings on the wall, could remember how clearly he had known which one was yours. How, when he had asked portraying a curious tourist, he had heard them laugh at your suffering from a hundred years ago, still fresh.

You had finally confessed a few nights ago what had happened in your childhood, when your father sold you to a group of Illyrians to be a tavern maid. Along with a few other girls, they had let you try and escape the clipping by running through a hill.

Only to hunt you down like animals and rip them out.

Azriel had been civil enough to stay the night with you. The next morning, he was gone into the mountains.

“You’re okay” you broke the silence, hugging him impossibly close. “You’re okay. Thank God, Azriel, you’re okay”

He just squeezed his eyes and let your panic calm down. Let your hands pull him away and touch every inch of his skin. Throw his leathers to the ground, undo his pants and leave him in his underwear.

If he thought what he had seen those last two days were the worst of it, he was wrong. His heart broke all over again when your breathing sped up until you couldn’t even talk anymore, just blindly search for wounds.

Azriel managed to grab your wrists before you pulled away completely, bringing your hands to your chest.

“Y/N, I’m fine” he assured you. “I promise”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t know!” you screamed at him.

It was the first time he heard you rise your voice. Always the gentle, patient one, you never yelled. He had almost believed there wouldn’t be an argument, but between soundless sobs and rushed breaths, you pointed a shaky finger at him.

“I didn’t know, Azriel. You left and I could only guess where. What if – what if something had happened? And what would I have told Rhysand? Anyone?”

“Darling, nothing happened”

“It could have happened! Don’t you see?” your bottom lip quivered. “I don’t have anything else, I can’t lose you. You can’t do that to me”

“You’re not gonna loose me. Not over some male chauvinist pigs that should have died long ago” he crossed the space between you two and almost sighed in relief when he touched you again. “I’m not going anywhere without you. I’m sorry… Y/N, I’m sorry I scared you”

“They could have done it to you too. I didn’t know if they were doing it to you too”

Even if it had been only seconds, when you finally fell against his naked chest once more, Azriel breathed again. You babbled against his chest about how they could have clipped his wings, how scared you had been.

And Azriel realized that, even if that had always been him, acting without consequences or explanations, it wouldn’t be anymore. The usual relief of the revenge was overshadowed by the guilt.

He let his shadows dance around the two of you, catch your tears and scoff at him. He hugged you close and, once he was sure you were calm enough, he winnowed you away, still in his underwear.

That night, you two bathed together, not leaving each other’s side for the whole night. He promised himself it would never happen again, that you wouldn’t shed another tar for him. And when it was time to go to bed, he let himself one final moment of relief after caressing the scars on your back.

-

It wasn’t as if Azriel hid you from his family. He just didn’t show you.

After the bond snapped in place, he had trouble coming to terms with the new feelings. He remembered your surprised face, your blush and his first stuttering. As much as he tried to stay away from you, each aimless work took him right to where you were. And after two months of only smiles and shy waves, you finally went up to him.

He expected demands, fear, or disgust. He didn’t expect a choice.

You asked him if he wanted the bond, what he wanted to do. That you had noticed he approached but didn’t talk, and wanted to make sure he was comfortable with it. Through all the conversation, Azriel couldn’t stop looking at your lips. And he agreed without knowing you had asked him for a first date.

Since then, it took him almost a year to fully accept it, and another five months until you offered him, once more, the lemon pie and consolidated it. You two were locked in your apartment for an additional three weeks after that.

And until this moment, Azriel had navigated his feelings and love for you in the private life. He had brought you sometimes to the wind house, and much to his surprise, you had greeted Feyre one time as if you knew each other.

But apart from her, none of his friends knew about the bond, about you or about his parallel life. That changed, however, two days before your sixth Starfall together.

Both of you were in your apartment, where Azriel basically lived. It was late night, too late to be up. After a busy day together, you had decided to eat a midnight snack before going to bed. It wouldn’t have taken you so long if Azriel had kept his hands to himself. But, after watching you move around in the kitchen, he couldn’t help it and you had ended in the couch without clothes.

You were preparing dinner with his shadows and he was reading on the couch, banned from the kitchen after the incident. There was soft music and winter decorations, making the small space look like a home.

He had been on the same page for almost thirty minutes, too busy watching you move around the kitchen, working your magic. That was why it took him so much to find the notes, tucked in the next page of his book.

There were eight of them, each one written in worse calligraphy

You better explain me why Feyre has just told me that you have a mate before falling asleep.

You have a mate?????

Azriel fucking answer me right now

I just woke up Cassian and he didn’t know, we’re pissed

WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU HAVE A MATE MOTHERFUCKER WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU, I’M GONNA BEAT YOUR ASS TO THE OTHER CONTINENT AND BACK YOU LYING SHIT – I’M CASS ANSWER NOW

Don’t make us wake her up, you know how Feyre gets

We woke her up, she’s angry but she says you have had HER FOR SIX YEARS AZRIEL ANSWER NOW

Azriel we’re sorry we were so mean can you please tell us where you are we just wanna talk

Meet us tomorrow at the cabin, we need to talk, btw Cassian woke up the whole house and now we’re having a secret meeting without you sucks.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Right around the corner taglist:

@lesliemurillo

@impossibelle

[lanadelnegan]

Tattoo

Pre-apocalypse!Negan x Reader (Negan is y/n's art teacher & also owns a tattoo shop).

Warnings: THIS IS THE FILTHIEST THING I'VE WRITTEN SO FAR and it's just going to get filthier from here on. smut, forbidden love, age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 38), angst, oral (female receiving), lots of sexual tension, slow burnnnn.(there's an actual plot this time), vaginal sex, public sex, breeding, slight daddy kink

Summary: After graduating and leaving behind the man she fell for but couldn't have, y/n decides to get a tattoo that reminds her of him. And he gives it to her.

A/n: ugh, this had me in my feels. A "hard to get" teacher Negan. basically you're negan's former student and he gives you a tattoo and things.. well - just read it.

"Well damn. I don't mean to be sentimental, but I have seriously enjoyed teaching you little shits. I hope you can take what you've learned and apply it to something. Be creative. Oh, and.. don't think about hitting me up on Instagram after this because I don't do social media. That shit is toxic. Remember that, kids."

The bell cuts Negan off before he can finish his inspirational speech. He's always had such a way with words.. should have been an English teacher instead.

Most of the students rush out like the room is on fire, with the exception of a few annoying girls that think he'll jump their bones now that school is out.

"So, Mr. Smith, since you don't have social media, can I get your number at least?" I cringe as she twirls her hair around her finger and her friends giggle obnoxiously behind her.

"Girls. Behave for once. A tip for college? Don't flirt with your professors." He warns while motioning them out the door.

I suddenly realize that my ass has been glued to my seat this entire time and I'm the only one still here. I quickly get up and throw my backpack over one shoulder. He stares at me from the doorway but I just look down as I walk towards him.

"Bye Mr. Smith."

"Nice try. Sit down." He shuts his door and walks back into the room pointing towards my chair for me to sit.

"Mr. Smith, y/n?" He mocks. "Seriously?"

I never call him that. He's always been Negan to me.

I've known him for 4 years now. He's the only art teacher at Alexandria High, and even though I have no interest in art, I've taken his class every year because I do have an interest.. in him.

What he doesn't know is that I've been making mental notes everyday for the past four years about all his interests, personal life, hobbies, you name it.

He loves the color red - because it's the only color expo marker he writes in.

His favorite lunch is two cigarettes and coke zero. I hate that he smokes.

He stopped coaching baseball last year because he said he didn't have time anymore. But I think it's actually because he's never cared for it to begin with.

He had a wife, but she passed away. Some kind of cancer. She's still his computer wallpaper, which tells me he still hasn't moved on even though it was six years ago. My heart hurts for him.

He wasn't lying - he doesn't have social media....I would have found it.

He sits at another student's desk right next to mine with his body facing me.

"You gonna tell me why the hell you look like your best fucking friend just died?"

I stare at the floor next to his shoes and try to think about anything other than fact that I'm never going to see him again.

"Look at me."

I slowly lift my eyes to his and can't stop the tear that escapes the second I see his face.

"Ah, shit." His expression turns serious when he notices my tears. "Look, kid. I -"

"Stop calling me kid." I snap.

He chuckles. "Hate to break it to ya y/n, but you are very much a kid in my eyes, which is why this thing -" he motions his hand towards me. "this.. crush you have on me - has to end today."

My eyes widen as I stare at him speechless. He seriously did not just assume I have a crush on him.

"Did you jus - You seriously think just because a few stupid girls want to get in your pants, it means everyone does?" I scoff. "Unbelievable. You're my teacher. I don't have a crush on you."

He laughs as if we both know I'm lying - which I am.

"Alright, I'm sorry I called you a kid. Now, you wanna tell me what's wrong?"

"It's just I - I'm gonna miss you." I instantly regret saying it.

He nods and looks at the floor, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"I'm sorry. I - I'm just gonna go." I get up to leave, leaving my heart with him. My stomach twists in a knot when I realize he isn't getting up to stop me.

Why would he?

Once I'm in the hall, I turn to take one last look at him. He's bent over with his hands through his hair as if his best friend just died.

Negan's POV: That fucking girl. In my twelve years of teaching, I've never cared about a student like I do her. I care about all of my students, but goddamn it, she's had me wrapped around her finger for longer than I'm comfortable to admit - And I never will. She fucking sucks at hiding her feelings. I knew from the first day she walked into my class that she wanted to jump on my dick. Hell, every girl does. But other girls bat their fake eyelashes at me and tell me how they feel. Y/n.. she's.. obsessed with me. She thinks I didn't notice her doodling my name in her notebook with little hearts. Or that I don't hear her whispering to her friends about the dreams she has about me. Or how she stares at me during lectures like she's on a different planet. And if that's not enough, the girl hates art. Yet she's chosen it as her elective every single year. She has straight A's in every class, but doesn't even try in mine. And yet.. my dumb ass still passed her with an A. Maybe because I'm obsessed with her too.

Back to Y/n's POV:

I cried on the way home that day.

While everyone else celebrated school ending with a party, I stayed in my room and cried while looking at his photo in the yearbook.

While everyone walked across the stage at graduation, my diploma came in the mail and I stayed home holding Negan's lucky baseball bat that he gave me last year.

My last day of junior year, I stayed after school to help Negan clean out his classroom so he could move into a bigger art room. That was the year he quit coaching. I replay the memory in my head more often than I should..

"Why do you have this bat just sitting in the corner?" "It brings me good luck. I hit a home run every game my senior year with that bat." "Your senior year? This bat is that old?!" "Watch it, kid." He rolls his eyes and throws some folders in a bin. "Hmm." I study the bat. "I could use some luck." "Keep it." I look at him confused. "But... it's your-" "I want you to have it." He cuts me off. "Are - Are you sure?" He sighs frustrated. "Do you not want it?" "Well, I mean, I do but -" "Then stop being stubborn and take it."

Ever since that day, his bat has been leaned up against the wall by my bed as a constant reminder of the man I want but can never have.

After a few weeks of feeling sorry for myself, my best friend tried convincing me to do something for myself since my birthday was coming up.

"Y/n, you should.. get your nails done, go buy some new clothes, do.. something. But you need to get out of that room. It's... depressing."

"I think I want a tattoo."

"Oh, okay, yeah. That's a good idea. What are you wanting to get?" She asks from the other end of the phone.

"I dunno." My eyes drift towards the bat. "Something meaningful."

The next day...

Lucille's

The tattoo shop sign reads. I swing the door open, excited for the first time in a month. The sound of tattoo guns and rock music fills the lobby.

"Hey, welcome to Lucille's. Do you have an idea of what you'd like or do you want to see some of our work?" The woman on the other side of the counter pulls out a binder.

"Oh, no, I think I know what I want already." I smile and pull up the picture on my phone before showing her.

"Okay, we can do that. Shouldn't take too long either. An hour tops. I can actually take you now in room 3." The so-called "rooms" aren't actually rooms, but rather closed off sections with tall walls on each side. From where I'm standing, I can't see the people in the tattoo chair, but I can see the top of the tattoo artists' heads if I stand on my tippy-toes.

She leads me to room 3 and I sit in the chair while she gets out the instruments.

"This your first tattoo?"

"Yeah, kinda nervous."

She smiles. "I'd tell you not to worry, but, sorry babe. It's gonna hurt."

I appreciate her honesty and just smile back at her.

"So, where do we want it?" she holds the printed off picture off of the tattoo I want.

I lean back in the chair, putting my legs up, so I'm laying down. I lift my shirt up right above my belly button and slightly pull my shorts down, revealing my pubic bone. "Right here." I point to the left side of where my panty line would be but lower.

After I confirm the placement, she presses the needle to my skin and I bite my bottom lip at the sudden pain that radiates throughout my hip.

"Breathe, babe. You got this."

After a couple seconds, she turns in her chair to load more ink into the gun.

"Y/n?" I hear from the entrance behind me.

I know that voice without turning to look. My eyes widen and the girl tattooing me looks at him.

"Hey boss, you two know each other?" She looks between the two of us.

I look back at him and see him nod at her. "I'll finish her up, Ruby. Thanks." He takes the tattoo gun from her and sits in her chair when she gets up to leave. The scent of leather and cigarettes fills the small room and I realize how much I missed it.

He pauses when he looks down at my skin and I can't tell if he's staring because of my tattoo of choice or because I'm almost completely exposed. If I didn't just shave, half of my pubic hair would be on display to him.

The way he's looking at my skin wakes the butterflies in my stomach and I have to mentally tell myself not to clench my legs together. He looks up at me through heavy eyelids and for the first time in four years, I'm unable to read him. I can't tell if he's disappointed, mad... or turned on...?

He looks back at the tattoo and shakes his head, sighing.

Okay, it's definitely a look of disappointment.

"You realize I have to finish this now that she's already started it, right?" He studies the lines already permanently marked in my skin. The faint purple lines of where the sticker was placed give away the complete outline of what the tattoo will be. "There's still time to change it though."

"What? What do you mean.. change it? I want this one."

"No." Is all he says and my eyes widen in shock at him.

"You can't tell me what to do Negan. I'm an adult, and I'm getting it."

"Why?" He snaps, frustration dripping from his tone.

He looks into my eyes for the first time since he's been in the room and the butterflies in my stomach have now gone wild.

"Because I... I want a piece of you with me always."

He closes his eyes and drops his head. My eyes start to water but I hold them back the best I can.

"Y/n." He shakes his head but to my surprise, he hesitantly places his left hand on my thigh, his fingers dangerously close to the spot I've imagined him touching a million times. The feel of his rough fingers on my bare skin ignites a flame in me I didn't know existed and all I do is stare at his hand.

"Relax." He rolls his eyes and starts the gun. He leans down closer and begins tattooing me.

I have to bite back the moan threatening to escape my lips. With Ruby.. it hurt. But with Negan, it.. almost feels good.

He glances up at me as if he can hear my thoughts and then goes back to gliding a straight line of ink across my skin.

The next few moments are spent in silence, with nothing but the sounds of the tattoo gun and music playing in the distance.

"Fuck, y/n. I'm gonna need these off so I can get to you better." He gestures at my shorts.

My eyes widen but I nod and slide them off, barely breathing now that I'm laying in front of Negan in just my underwear. The way his jaw ticks when he sees that I'm wearing red lace panties doesn't go unnoticed. His favorite color.

He places his hand back on my leg, this time with his fingers completely against my inner thigh. I slightly part my legs without thinking and he pauses to glance at me before continuing with the tattoo.

If he moved his finger half an inch upwards, he would be touching me.

"I never knew you worked at a tattoo shop." I break the silence, hoping to get my mind off his hand.

He chuckles. "I own it, darlin'. And there's a lot you don't know about me."

Another long pause happens before he speaks first this time.

"Why did you take art, y/n?"

"Uh.. I dunno, because I liked it."

He huffs out a laugh. "You liked it... or me?"

I shrug. "Both."

His face turns serious again and he stops the tattoo gun. "All done."

He backs away and motions for me to stand up and look in the mirror in the corner. I stand in front of it, but don't even notice my tattoo because my eyes catch Negan in the mirror staring at my ass. These panties don't leave much to the imagination and my cheeks redden at how much I'm exposed to him.

He suddenly looks up and makes eye contact with me in the mirror. His eyes are darker than usual and filled with lust.

"Come here." He demands and I obey, walking towards him.

Once I'm standing in front of him, he lifts his hands to grab my hips. My belly button is eye level to him and I look down, watching him intensely. His thumbs dig into my hips and he looks at the tattoo.

"Do you like it?" I ask him.

He ignores me and it makes my heart break a little more. "Lay back down, y/n." He gets up to pull the curtain over the entrance of the room.

I do as he says and he comes back, placing a clear tape bandage over the fresh tattoo.

He looks as if he's deep in thought before suddenly sliding his hands underneath my thighs and pulling me closer to him. He pushes my leg aside and rests my other foot in his lap until my legs are completely spread apart in front of him.

"You want me to touch you, y/n? Is that what you want?"

"Yes.."

"Tell me what you want, baby."

"Your mouth."

He chuckles darkly and kisses the inside of my thigh before sliding his fingers under my panties and ripping them apart.

He shoves them in the back of his jean pocket and wraps his arms around my thighs, holding my stomach down with his hands and leaning his head down closer.

"Look at this pretty pussy, baby. So wet for me you're glistening."

His eyes look up at me right before he licks me and my head falls back with pleasure.

He stops suddenly. "Eyes on me, darlin'. How many times have you imagined me between your legs? You're going to watch me eat this pussy, y/n."

I nod, looking at him and he continues. The sound of other people talking in the distance makes my senses even more heightened.

He licks me again, pressing his tongue into me harder this time. He moans as he stops at my clit and gently sucks it into his mouth. I moan and watch him as he looks like he's eating the best meal he's ever had.

"You taste even better than I imagined, baby."

"You.. imagined it?"

"Baby. You aren't the only one who daydreams in class." He says before dipping his tongue deep inside me.

He switches back and forth between licking me and sucking me until my moans get louder and faster.

"Negan, I'm gonna.."

"I know baby, give it to me." He rubs me with his tongue faster until I'm coming apart. His hand quickly covers my mouth and I cry out into his hand.

"Fuck, doll." He groans and adjusts himself through his jeans. "This pussy is about to make me cum in my pants like I'm a fucking teenager again."

"Negan.." I say out of breath. "I wanna touch you. Please."

He stands and picks up my shorts, but not before I see the huge bulge in his pants. He helps me put my shorts on and I look at him confused when he doesn't say anything.

"Nega-"

"No, y/n."

My eyes water with tears as I stand to finish pulling my shorts up. "I - I don't understand."

"This can't happen, baby. I shouldn't have touched you."

I nod. "So that's it, Negan? You get what you want and that's it.. you're just.. done with me?"

"Are you fucking serious? You think I got what I wanted? I'm standing here with a hard-on that's gonna give me a giant case of blue balls. Any other man would throw you on this table and take you right here."

"Then why don't you?!"

"Because I fucking.. I care about you. You happy now? I fucking CARE ABOUT YOU, y/n. And I'm not going to break your heart."

I wipe a tear that runs down my cheek. "You already did." I grab my purse and rush out of the room, stopping in front of Ruby on the way out and pulling out some cash.

"I'm sorry hun." She says empathetically as if she heard everything that just happened.

I cry harder and lay the cash down before leaving and walking to my car. Before I can open my car door, Negan is grabbing my arm and turning me around to face him.

"Goddamn it, listen to me!"

I don't fight him, I just stare at him, noting the hurt in his eyes. My heart hurts and I suddenly feel guilty for making him feel any ounce of pain.

"Y/n.. look.."

"No." I cut him off. "Negan, I'm sorry. This is my fault.. I put you in this situation because I was selfish.. and delusional. I'm so sorry. I'll leave, and you won't have to hear from me or see me again."

He scoffs. "You think that's what I want? I guess you don't know me the way I thought you did."

Before I can say anything else, he crashes his lips to mine and kisses me so hard and but so softly at the same time. His fingers slip through my hair and his hand rests on the back of my neck as he deepens our kiss.

"You're gonna be the death of me, kid."

I bite his lip hard when he calls me kid and our kiss goes from passionate to animalistic. He presses himself flat against me with my back against my car and I feel his hard cock straining against his jeans. His lips travel to my neck and he bites me hard, right before kissing and sucking the sensitive spot.

That's definitely going to leave a mark.

"You have no clue what you do to me, baby." He says in between kisses. His voice is raspier and deeper than usual. "Do you have any idea how many times I've left work and had to rub one out at the thought of you? Hell, sometimes even at work."

I look around the parking lot. It's nighttime but we're still clearly visible in the lights.

"Look at me, y/n. Forget where we are and just focus on me baby." His hand slips into my shorts and it takes him no time to find my soaked entrance since my panties are currently in his back pocket.

"Negan.." I breathe.

He smiles against my lips. "Baby.. You sure this is what you want? Because once I've had you, you're mine."

I nod and he puts his mouth next to my ear.

"Take your shorts off. Now." He pulls his hand from my shorts and sucks my juices off his fingers.

"But, Negan, we're-"

"I said, now y/n. You want me so bad, you're gonna get me wherever and however I say. Now, take your fucking shorts off before I rip them too."

I hesitantly slide my shorts off while looking around again. There aren't any other cars in the parking lot other than a couple of his employees. All the customers left. There's a main road up ahead but we're far enough away where they wouldn't see us unless they we're staring really hard.

"Good girl. Now take my cock out, baby."

He leans his hands against my car on either side of me, trapping me in. I waste no time reaching for the button on his jeans and unzipping him before pulling out his hard, huge cock. It's bigger than I imagined.. a lot bigger. I don't know how that thing is going to even fit in me. He's so hard that the veins in his cock look like they are about to erupt and his tip is already dripping with precum.

I can't help but run my thumb over the tip to collect some and bring it to my mouth to taste him. His eyes darken with lust at the sight of me sucking his precum off my finger.

"Taste good, doll?"

I nod and he chuckles. "There's a lot more where that came from."

He grips the back of my thigh with his hand and pulls my right leg around his waist.

The feeling of his dick rubbing against my wet pussy is enough to make my knees weak. Literally. I almost collapse at the sensation of him rubbing the head against my opening, teasing me. He presses his body closer to me in attempt to hold me up.

"Fuck, look at this dripping pussy." He looks down between us, admiring the view of his cock teasing my wet slit. "It's about to be dripping with my cum in a few minutes.. You ready for me, baby?"

"Yes, please. I need you."

He enters me completely in one swift motion, not giving me anytime to adjust. My walls are stretched further than they've ever been and it feels like the tip of him is buried up to my stomach.

He doesn't move for a moment, but instead looks into my eyes with his cock all the way inside of me. "There you go, baby. Finally getting what you wanted after all these years and taking my dick like a champ."

"Negan.." I moan. "Please.. just fuck me."

He pulls out of me almost completely before slowly pushing himself back in, agonizingly slow. Our bodies are flush against each other and he kisses me again.

"Fuck, baby." He growls. "You. Feel. So. Fucking GOOD." He says between thrusts as my mouth falls open.

I wrap my arms around his neck to hold myself up and lean against him with my lips pressed against his neck. I take the opportunity to mark him back, grabbing his skin between my teeth and sucking hard. He moans so loud that I glance around to make sure no one heard him, but we're still alone.

His thrusts get harder and faster and the sounds coming from his sexy mouth are enough alone to make me cum.

"Look at me, y/n. I want to see your face when you cum all over my cock."

His hand that was on the car behind me slides between us, instantly finding my clit. He begins rubbing circles on it with his middle finger while thrusting his hips into me faster.

I look into his eyes while my arms are still wrapped around his shoulders tightly, keeping me in place. My fingers run through his dark hair and my breathing goes erratic as I feel myself come undone around him.

"You want me to fill you up, baby? You want daddy's cum?"

I nod quickly as tears run down my cheeks from the most intense orgasm I've ever had.

"FUCK, baby." He groans and slams his mouth against mine. I kiss him back as he rides out his orgasm.

He pulls out of me slowly and softly kisses my lips one more time. I go to put my shorts on and he stops me.

"Not so fast, doll." He gets down on his knees in front of me, pushing my legs apart in front of him. "Push daddy's cum out baby. Let me see it drip out of you."

I do as he says and the feeling of his warm seed running down my legs is almost enough to send me over the edge again.

"Look. At. THAT." He swipes up some of his cum from my leg onto his finger and stands back up but not before gently kissing my new tattoo.

I think I love this man.

He rubs his finger along my lips until my mouth opens for him. I suck his fingers clean and moan at the taste of him.

"Y/n." He pushes my hair behind my ear and looks at me seriously. "I meant it when I said I care about you."

"You care about all your students."

"Yeah, but I don't go sticking my dick in them." He smirks and takes my hand, leading me back into the shop.

The others must have already left when - when.. oh.. shit.

"Negan, do you think they saw us?!"

"Well darlin', I was fucking your brains out right next to the door, so I think it's probably safe to assume so." He grins and my eyes widen with horror.

"Do you not care?"

"What can they do, doll? Fire me?" He laughs and leads me to the back where his office is.

"What are we doing in here?"

"Getting matching tattoos, of course."

I stare at him, trying to register what he just said. "You're.. going to give yourself a tattoo?"

He chuckles and hands me a tattoo gun before taking off his shirt and sitting on the couch in the corner.

"No, doll, you are."

Part 2 here

[calxprince]

❀ LOVE, OR THE LACK THEREOF.

. . . a kabru x gender neutral reader story

📌 THE MASTERLIST. . . -: ✧ :-゜・．

# genre : angst, exes to lovers, post breakup, established relationship, angst with happy ending, eventual romance, hurt/no comfort, eventual slight smut

# warnings : follows anime plot, but doesn't ride off of the main storyline. will have explicit chapters, and some violent descriptions. Characters are slightly aged up for the sake of the storyline to match up

Relationships are prohibited within the party.

What a stupid rule. Or at least, you used to think it was.

Until you fell in love, then fell out of it after.

Okay, you didn't actually fall out of it. But you did end up breaking up.

But hey, 5 years isn't that long right? It's not too late to finally start moving on?

Fuck, you really wished you followed that rule. All you can do now is regret all of your actions 5 years ago, when you were dating him.

📌 CHAPTERS -: ✧ :-゜・．

# CHAPTER 1 : 5 years is barely enough time for someone to move on, right?

# CHAPTER 2 : Stupidity is the key to happiness, you were plenty stupid— just not happy.

# CHAPTER 3 : Do you picture me, like I picture you?

# CHAPTER 4 : Is it possible to hear your heart physically breaking?

you can track the story through the tag : love or the lack thereof calxprince!

# CHAPTER 5 : Someone He Loved Once.

# CHAPTER 6 ...

[crappy-writings]

Keeper of Shadows

Wanda Maximoffxfem!Reader // Series

Series Summary: An odd series of fatal attacks in Upstate New York piques your interest, especially when they seem to be related to the strange powers you received when you were 10 years old. By some stroke of luck or misfortune, the Avengers too are investigating the case, and you are their number one suspect. In a temporary alliance, you work together to discover why people are dying, unraveling a line of love, secrets, and betrayal.

Chapter 3: The Portal-Jumper

(Chapter) Summary: You got away from the two Avengers, but for how long. Besides, you can’t escape the past.

Trigger Warning: Cursing, Injuries, Burns, Death, Anxiety

Word Count: 3,213

A/N: Exposition heavy chapter, sorry in advance. I promise I’ll get the plot moving soon, just bear with me for a bit.

<- Chapter 2 // Chapter 4 →

KoS Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Reblogged Fics

Dropping into the portals was a dumb idea. Actually, no, opening the portals in the first place was the dumb idea. But when you were staring into the eyes of two Avengers, there was nothing else that came to mind.

You tilt backwards, letting yourself fall into the open portal beside you. Time felt like it froze as you fell. You see the very top of the forest trees and fading blue of the sky before the first portal closes. The scene changed into a dark, barren land, tall structures of rock and stone set the background, only accented by a dark, gray sky. A creature like the one you fought moments ago spots you and bares its sharp teeth at you

But as quickly as it saw you, you were already falling into the second portal. 

The wind is knocked out of your lungs as your back makes an impact against something big and metal, a loud clang sounds off in the dirty alleyway as you fell against a dumpster. The portal in front of you closed with a bright flash the moment you were through. 

You cough and gasp for air, an intense cold settling into your bones despite the beads of sweat that rolled down your face and back. A sick feeling settled uncomfortably in the pit of your stomach, your hands were shaking intensely, and your body ached. For a few minutes, you could not move your body at all, the strain from the fight and the portal jumping leaving you completely and utterly exhausted. 

Stray beams of fading sunlight covered you in an orange glow, lighting up the rest of the alleyway you laid in. Mixed hues of blue, pink and orange dance between white clouds with purple-ish underbellies. The sounds of New York City were loud in your ears, cars zooming past the streets and honking incessantly, engines revving and screeching tires bouncing inside your skull. You lay your head against the filthy dumpster, closing your eyes in search of respite.

To your left, dark, wispy figures floated around within the darkness of the alley. The small figures lacked any particular shape or depth, their forms contorting differently every other second as they fluidly swam between the shadowed walls and ground. You had not noticed how they slowly began to merge, gathering at the very edge of the shadow to loom over you like a tower.

You clenched your jaw as you stared at them, forcing your body to move away from the alleyway’s shadow and remain in the fading sunlight. They stand tall in their intimidation attempt as you move away from them. They remain still, waiting. They wanted to leave, to travel away from the alleyway. 

A shudder rips through you as you continue to stare. You don’t want a Shadow hitching a ride with you, not now, not today. You rose on shaky legs, taking care to make sure your own shadow would not converge with the alleyway’s. 

Your hand raises to tip your hat forwards so as to hide your face, but your fingers grasped on to nothing. It was not there. You left your damn hat in the forest. 

‘Fuuuck.’ Frustration rises within you, exacerbated by your injury and exhaustion. At least the pain in your shoulder had dulled enough not to bother you too much. Instead, you duck your head, staring down at the ground as you leave the alleyway. Sparing one last glance at the tower of Shadows, you watch as they crash down backwards like a tidal wave, returning to their shifting dance. 

Making a right, you walk alongside the rushing cars and taxis of the city in an attempt to walk home. You took off the shitty FBI jacket you got from a joke and costume shop, taking care not to jostle your shoulder too much. Turning the jacket inside out, you brush off leaves and dirt before putting it back on. The small notebook you carried stuck out slightly from the inside pocket of the jacket. A gentle breeze blew past you, making you shiver more than you already were.

You were still testing this newfound portal jumping ability, but the limitations of it were incredibly taxing, not to mention dangerous. Having used it only a handful of times, it first manifested during a boring graveyard shift, where you were desperately wishing you could go home. 

A white flash at your side startled you, the barren lands of what you assume is a different dimension revealed itself. Further within, a second portal stood, revealing your dinky apartment. A few Shadows began spilling into the gas station you worked at, scurrying to find dark corners to hide in. Some of them did not find them in time, evaporating under the fluorescent lights of your workplace.

Within a minute though, both portals shut in the blink of an eye, and weakness had spread throughout your body, sending you to your knees with a sick feeling making its way through your entire body. 

Another time, you opened a singular portal and stepped into the other dimension. It was cold, black and gray rock formations were visible in the distance. Scattered throughout the landscape in front of you were smooth, glass-like stones, along with small, deep green grass patches. The sky was a gray-ish color, but not as dark as you had seen it before. It was empty, too, no Shadows nor Runners were in sight. You attempted opening a second portal in there, to no avail. The original portal also began to waver, and the weak and sick feeling began to haunt your body. You jumped out of the darkened dimension before you could lose your grip on the portal and potentially be sealed away in there forever.

A dark silhouette zoomed past you in the corner of your eye, snapping you out of your thoughts. It began slowing down its speed along with the rest of the cars as they stopped for the red light. As the silhouette stilled atop a yellow taxicab, you were able to take in its form. This particular figure had a human-esque appearance, lacking any particular defining features like a nose, lips, or hair, but its white eyes remained wide and attentive. Its iridescent skin appeared to be alive as it clashed and shifted around its figure like waves of the ocean. 

The creature, or a Runner as you had dubbed them when you were 10, stared down at a blue car that stopped at the red light, waiting. You look closer at the same car and make out the shape of a small child, staring out the window at the creature. When the traffic light finally switched to green and the blue car started riding away, the creature continued to run after it, jumping between the car roofs and streetlights in its path.

A soft sigh escapes you and for a moment, you were taken back to the fight that had happened not even fifteen minutes ago. 

That particular Runner was larger than any of the ones you had seen. It had a canine-like appearance but was larger than a bear. It had been stalking the crime scene, circling around the unaware agents as if they were prey. Odd vein-like lines protruded from its skin, shifting around with the rest of its outer shell. Curiously, it was out in the daylight. They usually were out at sunset or sundown, but the sun’s heat typically burned their skin if they were out during the day. This one was also abnormally aggressive and freakishly strong. It’s almost as if it had gotten a shot of whatever the Hulk got. 

Were it not for the fact that it was, somehow, already injured, you would not have been able to defeat it. Its oil-like skin had begun to melt, wrapping around your neck and shoulders and slowly but surely running down your arms. It dug its claws into one of your shoulders before gunshots distracted it from its attack. 

Had it not been for Natasha Romanoff’s distraction and Wanda Maximoff aiding you with your blade, you would very much be dead. You remembered accidentally making eye contact with Maximoff, an odd feeling of warmth running down your back both times you had done so. The same feeling had occurred when your blade had suddenly flown into your hand. The arrival of the two Avengers at the crime scene cannot be a coincidence. 

You had not noticed the pedestrian light had switched to the white, walking figure until a man dressed in casual clothes walked past you, prompting you to follow. Thoughts of the last 20 minutes bounced inside your skull, making sure to keep as many of the details at the forefront of your mind until you could document them.

It took about 10 more minutes for you to arrive at your apartment. As you walked, you saw a variety of Shadows scurrying between objects and people’s, well, shadows. Runners also jumped between buildings, cars or streetlights, some following cars, others making their way through the city.

A small, musty, dark studio waits for you as you step through the door. A cramped kitchen stood to the left at the very end of the apartment, an equally cramped bathroom right next to it. A tall lamp stood beside the bathroom door, its positioning being able to light the entire space. Beside you was a small twin bed with plain blue sheets, a drawer right beside it, stacked with a few notebooks and sketchbooks on the top, along with a desk lap overlooking the bed. A compact window hung above it, a dark gray curtain shielding the inside from the outside sun and fluorescent streetlights of the city. Directly in front of you was a wooden dining table with two plastic chairs, a wooden chest not so well-hidden right underneath it.

A groan escapes you as you lean against the door, renewed exhaustion settling in your bones again. Worst of all, you had a graveyard shift tonight at the local gas station. The only relief of the night was knowing you would not have to stare at Ethan’s dumb face. Ethan, a 25-year-old man who still made “Yo Mama” jokes and thought himself the last Coke in the goddamn dessert, despite being an asshole who only worked at a shitty New York City gas station. Maybe you would not be so annoyed by his presence were it not for that fact that man never fully completed his shift responsibilities.

You push yourself off the door, peeling off the dumb jacket and dropping it on top of the nearest kitchen chair. You also pull off your shirt, slowly so as to not aggravate your shoulder, as you turn on your lamp before entering the bathroom. Dropping the tattered shirt on the bathroom floor, you ducked to look for the first aid kit you knew you had somewhere in your cabinets, finding it at the very back alongside an elastic bandage and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. 

Placing the kit on top of your sink, you finally take a look at the damage left behind by the Runner you fought not that long ago. Three puncture wounds starting at your shoulder that extended into three downward gashes, stopping just above your chest. You wince as you feel the telltale stinging of first degree burns on the very edges of the puncture wounds. The ends of the wounds were still bleeding. You figured that it wasn’t too bad though, some water, alcohol prep pads, and gauze should be good enough, no stitches or invasive procedures required. 

You take a shower first, washing off all the dirt, blood, and Runner gunk off your body. After drying off, you dress your wound with some rubbing alcohol, disinfectant and gauze from the kit. Having changed into some warm, comfortable clothing, you sit at your kitchen table with your laptop, a large notebook with all your notes about the case, as well as the small notebook you had brought to the crime scene. 

You transcribed your recent notes into the larger notebook, detailing the victim’s wounds, or the ones you could see, as well as the location he was found in. There was one thing that had caught your eye. The man, Elijah Brown, had something in his hand, but you had not been able to get a good look at it before forensics took it away for evidence. Details of the Runner you encountered were also included, making sure to add in how its behavior was different from the ones you had encountered before.

Runners had never been particularly dangerous. Most of the time, they completely avoided adult humans, including you. They did seem to play with young children though. You weren’t quite sure why nor how, but some kids were able to see them, besides you. They eventually age out of it though and eventually cannot see them anymore. Regardless, the Runners seem to entertain the young ones, particularly during long car rides. Years of observation made you notice an odd game they played, which consisted of them following high-speed vehicles, jumping between cars, buildings, streetlights or whatever stood in the way, as if they were following some arbitrary rules that only they knew of. Other than that, you have not quite figured out exactly why they are around.

Shadows were a different story. Although they did not forwardly attack humans, they did feed on fear. Most people do see them without realizing it, catching them as something  moves in the corners of their eyes, only to turn around and see nothing and no one. The fear of being in the dark and odd feeling of being watched when nothing is there is often a Shadow hiding within murky corners. When they are particularly hungry, they’ll sneak into a victim’s rooms at odd hours of the night, waking them by paralyzing them and taking the shape of odd, unsettling figures to thoroughly terrify whoever was unfortunate enough to have crossed its path.

Any pertinent information you gathered from news stories had been marked with a yellow highlighter, drawing matches between what you knew about Runners and what details of the case had been revealed to the public. While researching, you managed to find some of the leaked S.H.I.E.L.D. reports from last year. The government had tried wiping those off the internet, but many people had managed to download the files and reproduce them everywhere. 

Within those documents, you found a copy of a partially blacked-out file detailing the death of a park ranger found within a National Park’s office in Pennsylvania, sporting similar injuries as the current victims. The death of that park ranger had been blamed on a coyote, despite the fact that there was no evidence of such an animal breaking into the park’s office. Whatever has been going on during the recent months is not new, but it only seems to be getting worse now. 

A frustrated groan escapes your throat as you shut off your computer. Your notes about the case felt lackluster at best. Despite going to the crime scene in search for answers, your notes were scarce, and you had no explanation for the trail of dead people or the altered behavior of the creatures only you could see.

What are you doing? Why are you trying to play vigilante when you don't even know where to start? You don’t know what you are doing, you don’t know what you’re looking for, and worst of all, you’re probably on the government and the Avengers’ radar. 

Your eyes slowly glide towards an old wooden chest, given to you after your grandmother unexpectedly… passed away. You press your lips tightly, a sigh escaping you as you stare at it for what felt like an eternity. You walk towards your dining table, sinking to your knees to pull out the chest from underneath. Fiddling with the old, somewhat rusty latch, you manage to open it without ruining the lock’s integrity. The smell of metal and wood hits you as you open the lid. You push away a family photograph of the entire family reunited at your grandparents’ house that sat at the very top, as well as old family movies and photo albums. An old porcelain doll that belonged to your grandmother stared at you with dead, glassy eyes, sending a chill down your back. You turned it over so it would not look at you.

At the very bottom, you find the object you are looking for, covered up with a piece of white cloth. Removing the cloth, you stare at the thick, dark leather-bound book, your heart sinking in your chest. You run your fingers along the edge, your hands shaking subtly, debating whether or not you should open it. For a moment, you felt like you were ten years old again. Your mind flashes with the old memory you had not thought of in a long time. The one you did not want to think of.

You swallowed heavily, a burning mixture of anger, guilt and anguish licking at your heart like a flame. Your breath had picked up without you noticing, and you wanted nothing more than to not see that book again. Covering the book once more with the white cloth, you dropped it into the bottom of the trunk once more, abandoning any thoughts of opening it and potentially finding answers there. There has to be another way for you to find more information. These odd deaths have been happening for years now. There has to be a way for you to find that information elsewhere. The key to the answers must be somewhere besides in that stupid, fucking book.

The book radiated malice, and it had already cursed you once. You don’t plan on making the same mistake twice. Not unless the situation becomes dire enough for it.

You will figure this out. You have to. This got started because of you. People died because of you. You had to figure out what was happening, you had to make things right.

Your mind momentarily drifted to the two Avengers that saw you in the forest. There was no doubt in your mind that they were hunting you down right now. A conflicting feeling sat heavily within you. On the one hand, you were completely out of your depth trying to solve this problem by yourself. Maybe aiding each other is the answer. 

On the other hand, you do not know how they will react to you and your powerset. They probably think you’re the one behind all this. They can very easily decide to throw you in a cell and hand you over to the government, deeming you too dangerous to be out in the world, unaccounted for. No, you cannot get found, you do not want to take the risk. 

It was nearly 8:30pm when you checked your phone. It was a few hours before your shift, and the bone deep exhaustion you had managed to stave off was coming back with force. You will figure things out tomorrow. 

You set up an alarm an hour before your shift, before dropping face down on your bed. You fell asleep within the minute.

<- Chapter 2 // Chapter 4 →

[greenerteacups]

Hi! Just wanted to say the latest chapter is lovely & amazing & sweet & had me smiling the whole time! I absolutely love your characterisation of everyone, especially Draco, so it was so so lovely to return to this world & to his thoughts!! with his best friend and crush at malfoy manor no less! All the yearning is already off to a great start hehe I am so excited for the rest of book 5!

Wanted to ask you how has it been for you to write this new book and volume? Has your writing process changed since when you’d first begun taking on a long form project like this?

& also are there any moments or surprises in this book that you’re especially excited about?

sending so much love & gratitude for you and your incredible works 💓

Thank you so much! This is really encouraging, I so appreciate it.

Inasmuch as I can use this metaphor without having kids myself, I sort of see each of the books as a different child. The first one flew out in basically a few weeks of very intensive writing, and it was a total dream — plot, pacing, symbolism, major beats, all fell into place basically without effort. The character stuff was the hardest, as I've written about before, but even then, the glorious part of writing beginnings is it's the most energy you'll ever have for a project, so the lows were pretty soft lows. Book 2, in contrast, I had to drag kicking and screaming by its ankle from under the bottommost mattress of my brain. It's one of my least favorite books (tone problem; COS has killer plot/setting/ingredients for a YA novel, but it's stuck in the doldrums of Harry Potter's well-documented Early-Installment Weirdness, before Cedric Diggory slams the gas and upshifts the whole series into its correct age bracket). More specifically, once I'd gone through and picked out everything in the book that happened because of Lucius, I didn't have a plot — hey alexa how do you rewrite Chamber of Secrets when We Got No Fucking Chamber Of Secrets — and oh by the way, even if you want to do a moody tone/political setup book, remember that your protagonists are still twelve, so if you go too dark or too intense, you'll risk torpedoing your readers' suspension of disbelief. Good luck, Charlie.

Book 3 felt the most like its own novel, if that makes sense? It's the last truly feel-good book of the series; it's a great stand-alone mystery novel with relatively low stakes. Plus you get a bunch of the big series icons: patronuses, dementors, werewolves, Hogsmeade, the Marauders' Map, and time turners arithmancy. It just felt like a good old-fashioned motherfucking romp of a mystery/adventure story, before any of the complex character work and major stakes of the late books come in.

Book 4 was the most fun I've had writing anything maybe ever. I don't even know what it was. Maybe the tournament arc, honestly? Love me a tournament arc. But in any case, I opened every new chapter feeling a tingle of excitement for what I was gonna get to do. Oh, and the romance started, finally, Jesus God (if it feels like a slow burn reading, just imagine what it felt like writing it, when everything takes ten times as long, and you have to figure out how to word the fucker.)

Book 5, in contrast, has felt much less like that tingle of "here we go!" and more like "oh, man, this is gonna be cool." Because this is the arc of the story that composed the original idea for Lionheart, literally years ago, and to be honest, I didn't think I'd get this far! If you'd asked me "do you know that it's going to take you 500,000 words of backstory before you can start writing that concept you're thinking about, and you're going to do it anyway?" I would have said: "absolutely not, strange mind-reader!" But like... I'm here! Finally! And it's... real now? Like, this isn't just a bunch of clips of scenes in my head anymore! That's rad!

That being said, it's definitely been slower than Book 4, because I kept switching back to my outline document to make sure that certain things were set up properly, and that I hadn't lost any of the plot threads or forgotten a minor beat that was vitally important for the story three chapters later. And I had a minor crisis about three months ago when I ripped out about 8 chapters in the first third of the book — basically everything from September to December — because I'd done a readthrough to check pacing (big mistake! never edit while drafting, that's satan talking) and realized I had a missing storyline. Like, there was a whole layer of the story that was just. Missing. Not there. And the existing text really couldn't fit another thread, so instead of taking weeks to pore through and try to sift out what I could save, I needed to factory reset and start over. And I didn't want to! I vividly remember sitting there with my head in my hands, trying not to weep, because I'd decimated 90,000 words of work in a single edit. But it had to be done. Because the story wasn't going to work. And now (hopefully) it will.

And of course, there's still that sense of excitement and exhilaration from before. Always. But whereas Book 4 felt like a delicious chocolate pudding, Book 5 is a medium-rare steak.

(Book 6, so far, is four shots of espresso and a whiskey chaser. FWIW.)

[hrwinter]

20 questions game

Thank you @luthordamnvers for the tag!!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 10 on AO3. many deleted on FF-net.

2. What’s your total AO3 words count? 309,689 which is like, wow, not that much. especially given that one story accounts for 105k of that.

3. What fandoms do you write for? supercorp for AO3. i've definitely entertained the idea of writing for other fandoms, but haven't made it to an actually completed document yet. i've thought a LOT about writing for harlivy.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Mrs. & Mrs. Danvers, Fidelity, would you forget me (do i know you?), i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart), and What I Do When I Have Writer's Block. i have writer's block a lot.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? i always try to respond to comments! i get that other people may not, so no judgment, but i figure if someone took the time to write to me, i can take the time to write back to them. it just seems like it fosters more community and the idea that we are all big fans, even just consumers, and appreciate artists of all types.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? i don't really write angst ending fics, but i've fleshed out a somewhat angsty 'No Way Home' spider-man AU that is pretty angsty.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? probably i carry your heart. faster than a speeding date is also the closest i think i've ever come to fluff.

8. Do you get hate on fics? it's not common, but it's happened. i try to remind people to engage with the content they want to read. everything is tagged on ao3. there really isn't an excuse to be reading 7 full chapters only to then leave a comment like 'i hated this.' then what are you doing here? and if someone is pointing out something they believe to be problematic in my writing, i do my best to fix it. i've had both bad faith and good faith comments, and i really appreciate the latter. m&m au is a bit of a tough one because the original movie is QUITE problematic. that's where i've gotten these comments the most.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind? like many, i'm sure, i've tried. i'm not sure if i've succeeded. i'm really impressed with the skills it takes to do so. i think people massively underestimate how hard and vulnerable it can be.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? i have never written a crossover.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? yes.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? yes.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before? no, but i think that would be really fun.

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship? i've had a lot of ships that i'm going to list here: harry/ginny. snape/lily. jack/juliet. selene/michael. buffy/angel. buffy/faith. mulder/scully. alison/emily. santana/brittany. villanelle/eve. kara/lena. poison ivy/harley. adora/catra. i've never written as many fics for anyone as i have for supercorp, so i guess it would have to be that.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? there was this sex positive krypton/exchange student au prompt that i got so long ago, years ago, where i fell in love with the concept so much, i developed an entire original novel about it. the novel is absolutely a rip off of supercorp with different names because i didn't want to give DC my worldbuilding for krypton. i have about 60% of the plot written, but i am SO BAD at writing original stuff that i'm worried i'll never get it done. sometimes i've thought about just writing the god damn fanfic because at least then y'all would get to see it. i'm so obsessed with that story. it's absolutely insane.

16. What are your writing strengths? i've been told action and dialogue. a kind of "movie like" description or pacing.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? i'm going to say the same thing as the person who tagged me: Actually writing.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? it would be really cool! i just don't speak any other languages well enough to write in. i don't mind people who want to translate at all though.

19. First fandom you wrote for? harry/ginny. basic.

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?  eternal sunshine au. i wrote it in less than 30 days, which has never happened again. and i felt like, even though i didn't at the time, that it actually captured both the essence of the movie and supercorp perfectly. it's one of those stories that is so HEAD canon to me, that sometimes i forget none of it happened in the show. i wish it had. i was so unimpressed by the explanation of why kara lied to lena, even though the 100th episode dangled the potential of it so close to our faces. in my mind, i just erase that, like my story, and imagine my version instead.

Tags, but no pressure: @littlemousejelly @shaolinbynature @coffeeshib @inkedroplets

[skjeinon]

thinking about you - anders lee

summary: when you go to highschool and then college together, being reminded you were never his first choice was something you faced a lot - something about him always brought you running back to him though. when it snows, you pour and he tries to fix that with his generosity as the boy who’s always treated you better than the rest…

warnings: not a very slow burn - but very much pent up unknown reciprocated feelings. anders lees big legs <3. slight breeding kink (wrap it before you tap it blah blah blah), best friends to lovers, lack of plot at the end (i can make a part two maybe), rather vanilla i suppose but very cute nonetheless. nickname andy is used once?? sorry NO PROOFREAD!!

laying down in bed, watching as the snow fell outside of your window, with your blankets to your shoulder, you felt the quick buzz of your phone against your backside. you never felt well when snow fell in minnesota, but your whole life it’s been something you’ve learned to deal with. you almost ignored the buzz until it began to repeat.. then came your ringtone. some old song you liked in middle school filled your ears before you rolled over to pick it up. before even looking at the name, you put the phone to your ear.

“hello?” your voice was tired as you spoke softly into the mic.

“hey y/n” as anders voice filled your ears , you blushed, embarrassed you hadn’t made an effort to talk differently.

“oh my goodness! hey andy.. what’s up?”

“mh.. nothing. i saw it was snowing in minnesota, i wanted to check up on you. i know it was pretty warm a few days ago and i know how you get.” he said, you could hear him laying back into his seat.. whether it be his couch or a chair somewhere.. you wondered where he was.

“yeah it’s .. it’s bad. i won’t even lie. i thought the snow was out of here considering it’s gotten warmer and it’s april. i need it to be normal again.” you complained, pushing your face into your pillow to let out a soft whine.

“mh.. are you working? outside of the snow i suppose.” his question felt random but you complied.

“no.. i had left over time from last year that i had to plan out at some point. i guess it was my luck to pick the week 4 months ago that it would be snowing.” you said, sitting up in your bed to talk better, pulling your knees to you chest. “why do you ask?”

“do you want to come to the island? it’s nicer here.. i can buy you a plane ticket and you can stay at my place.” his voice felt sensual when asking you the question. you tried not to let your cheeks burn.. or give any leeway to him on how you felt.

“oh.. that actually sounds really nice. are you sure?” success. you didn’t sound super shocked - at least you hoped you didn’t.

“yeah i’m sure. cmon y/n, you know you’re my girl..” he said, you could feel his cocky little smile on the other side of that phone call. the way he would smile when he’d tease you, or take good of your plate, or when he’d smile at you when he’d buy you tickets for a minnesota vs isles game.. the way he’d look at you when you’d wear his jerseys. highschool… norte dame… islanders.. it never changed.

“mmh.. okay.. when do you wanna get me a ticket ..” you said , your hand making its way to play with your own hair.

“i can get you one right now.” he said as he stood up, going to grab his laptop. “you prefer american airlines right?”

you smiled. “yeah i do.”

“when’s the earliest you can come..” he said as he sat back down, opening the device in his lap.

“tomorrow. i’ll be off work for this and next week. if you wanna have me for that long.”

“yeah why not, i haven’t seen you in a few months”

-

in the next 24 hours you had prayed that when you were at the airport by the will of god… your flight wouldnt be delayed or cancelled. thank god overnight, the snow had stopped and when you woke up, the roads were more clear then you’d expected.

the night before, you stayed on the phone with anders for hours while he bought your ticket and while you packed. you complained about dirty clothes and he responded “you can just wash your clothes here..” which embarrassed you as you put dirty clothes you knew you’d only bring because you would wear it for him.

you packed for every season, almost like trauma from the cold weather in the last 2 days even though anders reassured you it was getting warmer on the island, and as you went through TSA and was finally sat at your terminal, your foot tapped impatiently, maybe a little overwhelmingly excited for seeing anders. yeah you knew you’d see other people you knew and loved.. but you always were excited to see him.

you wouldn’t even lie, you’ve been in love with anders since you guys first became friends in highschool. the feelings came and went, but he’d always do something that made you come crawling back.even at points you were convinced he also liked you, but it just never resulted in anything like what you had ever dreamed of.

in highschool you weren’t necessarily the popular cheerleader but you weren’t an outcast by any means. you were a proud leader of the student section and that’s how you and anders had become friends. you always helped plan student pride at football games and even sometimes during spirit week. you had a football jersey for the highschool and you even sewed anders’ number onto it at one point after the two of you had met through football. - when you met, it was when you were standing on the edge of the field, he asked if you could try to catch a ball or two with him for some yearbook photos that yearbook had asked him to take, the both of you thinking it was stupid, you gave in. after this, you had both realized you were in lots of classes together, and started sitting together in those classes.. then at lunch.. then hanging out outside of school, talking on the sidelines at football games. the two of you were inseparable. his parents adored you, and always begged him to date you.. your parents did the same.

so even after all this time, you had never even been on a date with him, and now you’re sitting in the airport getting ready to board the plane to go see him after he payed for your ticket, while also offering you to stay in his own home for two weeks. you were whipped.

The plane ride wasn’t awful, a bit of turbulence though the clouds but once you neared new york and JFK, things cleared a lot. the sun was out and you smiled at the simple idea of a warm day. as the plane landed, you pulled your jacket back over your body and grabbed your bag as you got off the plane. JFK was big and honestly if it hadn’t been for Anders guiding you in the past, you’d be lost.

Getting down to the luggage pickup, you stood around, observing very hard but honestly ignoring the fact that Anders had to be around. if not here then he’d be here soon. but it didn’t cross your mind until you were picked up off your feet by a goon.

“COME HERE!” he exclaimed as he picked you up, his arms tight around your body as he lifted you up. you almost shouted before remembering it would only be him.

“Anders! put me down!!” you kicked, shaking in his arms until he sat you back down on the ground. you turned quickly to see him, a smile forming on your face at his goofy expression. you wrapped your arms around him, he did the same, pulling you close to him. Quickly inhaling, you catch the cologne laced into his clothes. he’s been wearing the same thing for years and it never gets old.

“i’m glad to see you made it here in one piece.. how was the flight?” he said as he glanced down at you watching as you pulled away to look for your luggage once again.

“it was good.. a bit of turbulence coming from minnesota but not too bad..” you stood ahead of him so when responding to him, you turned your body to see him. when speaking to him you’d observe his features.. looking at his freckles as some new one’s appeared on his cheeks every year, his dark blue eyes, his new haircut that maybe was his best one. you loved everything about him..

your thoughts were quickly interrupted when he said “is that your bag?” and pointing, you turned back around. “yes it is!” you said as you quickly went to grab it. as you pulled it off, he picked up your carry on and walked over to you, offering to take your suitcase also. you let him do so but in turn, you took your carry on from him and walked with him out to his car, which he pushed the bags into and then went to your side of the car, opening the door before finally going to his.

getting in the car, you noticed he did what he always did when driving and that was resting his right hand on the gear shift, even though he didn’t need to use it, and driving with his left. crossing your legs in the passenger seat, you leaned closer to his side of the car with your arm on the center console.. this didn’t go unnoticed by him as a small smile formed on his face.

“how’s work going?” he asked, looking over at you meeting your eyes before looking back at the road.

“it’s going. half the time im just tired and need a break. that’s why i’m glad you offered to let me come up.. i really just needed to be away from everything at home.” you sighed, your hand coming to your forehead to gently rub it. he took his free hand and moved it back, gently rubbing his finger against your arm.

“i definitely don’t understand but i wish i did.. sometimes i wish i could put myself in your shoes.” he said, you knew he cared - but sometimes he wasn’t great with his words when it came to comforting you over work. he never really understood what it was like to work a normal job, even through college. his parents paid for everything when he was busy studying and playing hockey in college. the two of you talked about stuff while driving, stuff you hadn’t talked ab the night before or just the music on the radio… small talk always turned into long deep conversations. you always loved that about him. ever since that first night the two of you went out to dinner together back in highschool.

getting to his place, you walked in, being greeted by his two dogs, smiling as they sniffed you, wagging their tails excitedly, they didn’t jump which shocked you. “i didn’t realized you trained them so well” you smiled as he walked past you with your bags in his hands.

“yeah it took a long time..” he shrugged as he walked into the spare bedroom he had assigned to you. “you’ve never been here before right?”

“i think maybe for a party when i was in new york but that’s about it..” most of your years apart, he’d been coming back to minnesota. he’d come and see you. even when you were in new york for a few playoff games, he saw you at your hotel and you guys were together everywhere except for his home.

“oh - i thought you’d been here more then that.” he felt a bit of guilt wash over him as he walked out of the room you were staying in. “uh- well cmon girl.” he said motioning for you to come into the room with him. you laughed before following after him.

“this is your room, you have a nice view. your sheets are clean and you have clean towels in your bathroom.” he pointed to the bathroom off the side of the bedroom. “but if you need anymore, they’re in the bathroom in my bedroom.” he smiled, before putting his hand on the small of your back, guiding you out of the room. he motioned to everything as he spoke it out ‘living room, balcony that’s really high up so he doesn’t sit out there much, the kitchen, the spare bathroom, his bedroom, his bathroom’ the sheets on his bed weren’t flattened or made, they were everywhere showing he didn’t make his bed which made you smile at the ounce of personality laced into his room.

“oh and.. there’s the washer and dryer for you..” he pointed to a little side area, where the two were tucked away off of the kitchen. you didn’t have much to say except for complimenting his home. for a small apartment.. it was large. the windows were high and so were the ceilings, lots of natural light accenting the colors of his apartment.

the tall man let you off to unpack while he took care of his dogs, taking them downstairs and outside while you put the clean clothes into the dresser he had told you to put them in and in the closet in the room. and taking all your dirty clothes and putting them in the washer. you embarrassingly made sure you knew what panties and bras were in the wash before you pushed your clothes in there, not having any interest in letting him even go near your clothes if you didn’t know what was in there.

you thought about what he was thinking about as you walked through his apartment, thinking that maybe he was thinking about you while he leaned down to pet his dog. maybe he was thinking about all your outfits you planned to wear or everything the two of you would do…

and honestly that is all that was on his mind. something that he kept secret was how much he adored you… yeah he’s been there for the last 10 years with you, but he probably loved you more then any girl he’s ever attempted to date.

everytime he’d find a girl, you’d stay out of his life as much as possible though every waking minute he thought “what will i do with y/n tonight?”, “i wonder what she’s doing”, “does she want to hangout this weekend?”. and even when he moved to the island, even when he signed for all those years with new york, he still dreamt of a reality he could have with you. but he knew you didn’t like him like that. sometimes he even wondered if you were using him but moments like today where you looked at him like you needed something more from him when he held you close in a hug, he knew that even if you didn’t love him the same way he did, that you were there for the long haul.

eventually, you were out of your airport clothes and into shorts and an islanders hoodie, trying to stay comfortable and feel clean. you sat yourself on the couch as anders walked in.

“i tried to give you as much time as possible..” he said while letting the dogs off their leash.

“you gave me plenty. thank you.” you smiled as you turned your body to view him from the couch. he walked closer to you and his hand rested on the back of the couch, leaning over you.

“i see you’ve gotten comfortable.” he smiled, bending down closer to you. “nice hoodie, you a big isles fan?” anders teased as he pulled at the soft material. he let go and stood up straight again, coming to sit down beside you.

“yeah, i have this boy i like a lot, he plays for the islanders.” you teased him back, batting your eyelashes at him.

“oh really?” he sat down, taking your legs and laying them across his lap. “tell me more about him.. he sounds fun.”

“he is. he’s tall and blonde.. he’s got nice teeth and a lot of freckles, he’s very very handsome..” you made a face, teasing him further. “so handsome” you threw your head back, swooning.

“wow! he sounds like a very lovely guy. i wish you luck” his cheeks burned a little, patting your shin with his wide palm. you noticed as the pink patched across his cheeks, making yours turn that soft shade as well. you looked away from him, sticking your hand out to gently pet one of his dogs that sat at his feet. “so um.. what do you wanna do tonight? or just.. in the next two weeks.” he cleared his throat, breaking the silence with his question.

“well.. i don’t know. you’re the one with the idea of what’s to do!” you said gently hitting his arm.

“hm.. well i have two games this week, and next week i have 2 next week.. one is an away game. so i’m sorry in advance..” he said, gently squeezing your bare leg.

“it’s okay, i kind of expected you to be gone longer then that” you cut him some slack as he thought further.

“i dunno, we should just play it by ear. but if you want something good for dinner tonight, we can go somewhere fancy or somewhere simple, what are you thinking?”

“hm.. something simple. i’ll save dressing up nice for another night.” you said leaning into the cushion, staring back to him.

a smile formed across his face, his dark blue eyes squinting as he smiled. “okay.. cool. did you happen to bring your jersey with you? if not we can always just go and buy you a new one..”

you almost blushed as you remembered how he was so willing to spoil you. so quick to give you anything you wanted. “yeah i brought it.. i wouldn’t mind a new one though.” you said pulling your legs out of his lap, bringing them to your chest.

“yeah doesn’t yours just have an A on it?”

“oh heavens no, it’s not that old. I do have an A one though.”

the conversation continued , talking about all the small things you could simply conceive into a conversation. it moved from the couch, to the kitchen, to his room and to the balcony, you both talked almost non stop until you realized the both of you were hungry. the two of you talked about where to eat dinner and as he let you go to get ready, he himself got in the shower. when you pulled on some nicer clothes, placing your perfume at your pulses, and grabbing some small things you needed, as you sat in the living room again , the smell of his body wash filled the apartment from the hot shower he took. you almost keeled over, thinking ab how nice he’s always smelled.

after he finished his shower and got dressed, he met you in the living room and grabbing his keys from the table sitting in front of you, he nodded to the door. “let’s go.” he said with a cute little smile, offering you a hand to stand you up. he pulled a jacket over his shoulders but knew he was only grabbing it to help you out when he knew you’d complain about being colder later in the night.

sometimes his personality makes it easy for you to forget he’s an athlete, ignoring that it’s professional. he does this for a living, but the way he treats you, you easily forget it. he walked with you, holding a soft conversation as the two of you rode the elevator, got in his truck and rode to dinner. dinner was in some small restaurant in one of those small towns on the island. dinner was good but the one thing you paid attention to the entire night was him. getting ice cream after and even buying a few groceries at the store with him before going home, it was all him. on the drive him, you leaned into the center console, your knees were at your chest and the moment the two of you had sang a song the two of you fondly shared memories of, your pinkies had become linked with the other. it took until the end of the drive where the two of you managed to let go, neither wanting to but both of you having to hold something going inside, there was no other choice.

you struggled to believe that you’d be able to spend these two weeks without folding and telling him but you didn’t know that he felt the entire same way.

-

as the night grew later, anders was laying on the couch doing his hockey homework, watching over old footage, almost his entire body sprawled across the couch. he had a notebook sat on his thigh, slowly scribbling stuff on it under the light of a lamp.

you had found a laundry basket and pushed your now dry clothes into it, slowly scooting it over to the living room to sit on the floor and fold your clothes. he noticed as you sat down and began to move his feet. “here, come sit-“ and he stopped once he saw you shake your head.

“no it’s okay.” you smiled to him. he nodded and gave a soft response before looking back at the footage. every now and again he’d glance down at you while it plays quietly. he watched as you bobbed your head to the music playing in your own head, listening to your quiet hums. he watched your quick movements with folding your clothes, wondering why you were moving so fast with some items of clothing. he began to observe what was in the basket instead of watching his footage like he should’ve been. you tried to ignore his eyes on you as you folded through the panties and bras you had washed that you didn’t want him to see, though with his hockey eye precision he did anyways. his face turned a soft pink as he finally realized what he was looking at - he was now back to watching hockey while you folded laundry. suddenly you were a little relieved to have the uncomfortable subject matter in your hands.

you now were the one observing him as he did his thing. you watched how he wrote messily against his thigh, trying to ignore how thick it was underneath the notepad. something about his legs was how large they were. perfect for sitting in a crowded space, inconvenient situation, for a booster in a mirror or maybe one day a sloppy hookup who knows. but as the thoughts raced through your head, creating scenarios past the ones you already experienced such as inconvenient situations.. your cheeks began to burn and suddenly your hands were conveniently back in the laundry before you finished.

“i have morning skate tomorrow.. if you wanna come” he said as he turned the tv off, breaking the room off into silence except for his voice. he began to sit up, stretching as he sat all the way up. he then leaned over, resting his elbows against his thighs to watch as you placed the folded laundry back into the basket. you stood up and stared down at him. “yeah.. sure i can go.” you said, shrugging, leaning over to pick up the basket.

“cool. you have to wake up early though.” he also stood, coming closer to you, leaning over you momentarily. “you should get some sleep then.” his hand gently rested on your arm, pushing you gently towards the bedroom you stayed in.

“so should you..” you rolled your eyes, a smile forming across his lips as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“i’m glad you’re staying with me for two weeks… get some rest.” he said as he stepped past you, making his way to his room. “goodnight.” he turned to see you and as you began walking to your own room, you turned to look at him as well. his hair was a mess over his head and it made you giggle.

“goodnight.” you nodded before gently shutting the door to your room. you could hear the dogs as they shuffled into his room to lay in the bed with him. you didn’t even want to imagine what he wore to bed but if it was anything like college, it was still nothing but boxers… he was so fit and it was almost insufferable.

-

sleeping that night was easy, you had put away all your laundry before you almost drowned yourself entirely in your sheets, cozy until the morning where he opened your door with a soft voice, coaxing you out of your sleep.

“goodmorning..” he said as he leaned into your doorway. you let out a groan, trying to ignore him before he did the same again. he did it once more before he was letting the dogs into the room, excited to see you as he walked in as well. he knew you were never the best at waking up early so he tried his best to get you out of bed without putting you in a bad mood.

“come on” he said, sitting down at your feet, gently shaking your legs. “get up, hon.” he stared up at the ceiling, listening to your voice as you complained more and more, finally pulling yourself out of the sheets. hunched over yourself you stared at him through tired eyes.

“goodmorning.” he smiled, staring down at you with his dark eyes. “do you still want to go?”

“mhm..” you nodded, letting your head fall into his arm. how hand came to the back of your head, stroking your hair before slowly getting up again.

“okay then, get up, we gotta go.”

standing in the shower, you slowly began to wake up more, still yawning every few minutes before you finished your shower, trying to move at a good pace knowing he needed to get going. you brushed your teeth and pulled some clothes on before walking out.

“here..” he said, putting a jacket over your shoulders before he grabbed his keys. you pulled his jacket around your body, smelling him within the threads. you walked behind him as the two of you walked down the hallway.

“do you want dunkin?” he said to you as you both made your way to his truck, getting in, he heard you utter a soft yes. you stared down at your phone for a bit until he called your name.

“yeah?”

“you okay?” he said, his blonde hair was curly that morning, looking barely brushed out.

“yeah i am.. i’m just sleepy.”

“mh. yeah i know how you get. i’m sorry for getting you up so early” he gave you a gentle smile and you gave it back, making his smile even brighter. bundled up in his jacket, the two of you got your dunkin and were off to the arena. todays skate was in UBS. it wasn’t public but you sat with a few of the media detailing people, knowing one or two, being able to chat while the boys practiced. it was a longer practice, coach trying to condition them after a loss. you knew anders would be a little sore later that day, causing you to think of any remedies you may have while they finished up.

as anders finished, he was at the top of the stairs at the lower level of the arena seating.

“you wanna go?” he said, a soft smile on his face, nodding to the general direction of the exit. he felt like he never stood in this perspective of the arena, causing him to be overcome with slight shock as he watched you jog up the stairs. “you seem a bit more chipper now..” his gaze met yours as you walked with him to the truck.

“yeah i’m a bit better now” you smiled. the two of you held your hands in your pockets, but you felt your body brush against his every now and again while walking. you wished with everything inside of you that you could place your hand in his.

“do you want to get breakfast now? or do something else” he said, kicking a pebble under his foot before you made it to his truck. getting in you told him sure and that’s where you went. you went somewhere he wanted, you didn’t really care . the two of you ate breakfast in perfect bliss, sitting across from each other while quietly chatting over stacks of pancakes and bacon.

the two of you decided to end the morning back at his apartment so the two of you could just end up napping.

when getting into the apartment, the two of you had taken the dogs outside, you taking one while he took the other and as you both came inside, a yawn fell over the both of you. you changed into some more comfortable clothes and as you settled into the couch, turning on the TV to play some ambiguous movie, he ended up sitting down next to you. he offered you to sit against him so you did, tucking yourself underneath his arm, laying in his chest. the two of you slowly began to lay further on the couch, sooner or later, your body on top of his while he laid there with his arms around you.

the two of you were asleep, the sun slowly coming through the windows, leaving you both sleeping for hours before one of you finally woke up. it was him..

he woke up, seeing your head against his chest. his cheeks burned as he brought his hand to play with the ends of your hair as they fell across his chest. he lifted his leg so that his thigh was pressed to yours, warming your body as you rested. he winced a little, feeling his body becoming sore, especially as he felt your weight under him but he tried to ignore it, more focusing on matching his breathing pattern to your own.

starting up at the ceiling, he felt your breathing pattern change as you began to wake up. “hi” he said softly, pulling his hand from your hair, watching as you blinked slowly at him. “hiiii” you smiled, pushing your face into his chest again, not even thinking about how you laid on top of him.

“we don’t have to get up, but can you maybe move your legs a little so i can move my leg..” his voice was gentle, and you made a soft noise of approval.

“you can move me however you want..” you said against his chest, essentially going rag doll on him.

as a man does, the words sounded foul in his head, as his hands moved to your sides, gently grabbing you and pulling you up with his body. he tried to ignore how they made him feel as he pushed his thigh between your legs, sitting you up against his frame. he let your arms fall around his chest as you settled in his lap. he found the remote and changed it over to the footage he had to continue doing over from the night before, noticing how you seemed to have fallen back asleep, sitting in his lap. as he began to watch the plays again, he whispered comments to myself.

although he thought you were asleep, when laying there, in reality you were trying to process how when you spoke… he placed you with his thigh right between your legs. you tried to ignore it, you tried to ignore the feeling growing in your body, but as his hand met the small of your back.. you almost folded. you listened to his whispers, but noticing his breath getting heavier, it made it hard to focus on anything he was doing when lacking one of your key senses.

feeling risky, as anders pushed his hand down the small of your back, his fingers pushed under the elastic of the shorts you had on.. not with any devious intention, just to entertain himself as he rubbed his hand across your back. he would do it every few times his hand would come down to your waistband. he noticed over time your breathing pattern hadn’t shifted back to how it did when you slept and simply your breaths began to get heavier as you continued on. he shifted, his thigh pressing into your core…

“anders..” your voice came out soft and quick, causing your eyes to shoot open, covering your mouth with the speed of lightning. “oh my god- i’m sorry.” your face was red as you leaned against him, trying to act like it didn’t happen all the while his face was burned up too. “i-it’s okay..” he threw his head back, trying not to even think about it but as you readjusted he could feel the way your chest heaved slightly. you tried to ease yourself back to reality as his hand was pressed against your lower half again. his hand now slowly encompassing your ass as he rubbed it up and down your backside. you knew he was doing it on purpose..

you almost felt confident in yourself to simply push yourself down into his quad again and get away with it, but you were scared to even try. you slowly moved your hips against his thigh.. very slowly. only enough so maybe he’d notice if he paid attention. with his hand on your ass, he almost noticed immediately. he didn’t try to stop you, he even moved his hand with your hips. he let it go on for a minute or two before his voice broke the silence.

his name fell from your lips. “what are you doing..” he whispered. he knew what you were doing. he spoke in a voice that just oozed with arrogance. finally .. you turned your head to look at him. when your eyes met his, he could see the ways yours were almost melting out of your head. staring, you saw the cocky smile on his face. he didn’t just want to let you do what you were doing.. he needed it.

“i know what i’m doing, but you should show me what you really want..” you spoke, almost without thinking, hoping maybe he’d try to take control over the situation. but by simply speaking that way, it proved to him that this was something both of you wanted.

Anders nodded and his hands were around your waist again as he picked you up slightly, sitting you back down on his thigh at a better angle. “this okay?”

you nodded, your hands coming to his chest, your eyes meeting his. your hand slowly pushed up his chest, making its way to the back of his neck. you leaned in closer and as your lips ghosted over his, your name quietly fell from his mouth before he pressed his lips into yours. he held you close as you kissed him. you released from the kiss, your eyes opening to see his.

“little desperate aren’t we..” his frowny smile made a smile form across your lips. you nodded and kissed him and again..

“anders..” his name fell from your lips, his hands that held your hips encouraged you to move against his thick thigh. “oh my god..” you whimpered softly, the friction between your legs left your face flushed.

“what is it?” he said , watching as you pulled your head back, your eyes meeting his. “hm tell me..” he hummed.

“it feels so good..” you whined. simply having him hold you like this gave you the satisfaction of a love struck girl. “i’ve wanted this for so long” your head tilted back, following the movements of his hands as he guided you through the roll of your hips.

his cheeks burned at your words. hearing you say it gave him butterflies, he felt stupid feeling that way. “me too” he mumbled as he watched you pleasure yourself on his thigh. he leaned forward, placing his lips against your neck as you leaned back. your soft moans grew as he kissed down your soft skin, gently nipping at it, his tongue relieving the bitten skin.

your skin burned as he kissed at it, his hands slowly moved up your hips and slowly pushed underneath your shirt, feeling up your sides before getting to your chest. “can i take off your shirt?” he asked against your skin. you made a small sound of approval and as he pulled it over your head, he couldn’t ignore the deep blue lacy bra you had on.

“did you wear this for me?” he asked, his hands gently rubbing over the lace on the cups.

“m-maybe.. everything i packed was for you..” you confessed, feeling as his large hands covered your chest, squeezing your chest before his hand came behind you, gently unclipping your bra with one hand while the other moved to the small of your back, helping you hold your rhythm as you ground against his thigh. as he pulled the bra from your frame, he almost drooled at the sight of your bare frame.

“you wanna take those shorts off, baby?” he spoke, placing his face between your neck and your shoulder again, gently kissing at your exposed skin.

“n-not yet..” you whimpered, your hands coming to the back of his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. he gave a soft noise of acknowledgment as he placed his hand on your lower spine, pushing it forward so that you would lean back, your chest pushed out to him.

he took your nipple between his teeth, gently sucking at your chest. your hand was in his hair, gently tugging at it as he played with your hardening nipples while you fucked yourself on his thigh. he sucked on each of them until he was bored, moving further down until he couldn’t kiss you without moving you from his leg. he could see the look on your face as you go you were close to your orgasm, causing his hard-on growing in his pants to twitch. your face was filled with pure ecstasy. he looked down to see the wet patch on your shorts, forming on his own.

“you gonna cum, baby?” he spoke softly , holding your head up so he could see you. you nodded.

“yes anders.. fuck..” you whined while you held onto him to hold yourself up. “fuck.. please oh my god..” you cried out loudly, feeling yourself coming closer and closer before finally, one last swipe of your clit over his thigh and you were done for. your body leaning into his as you rode out your orgasm, he held your shaking frame close.

“i got you baby…” he said as he move his leg with your body until you slowed down and stopped, your chest rising and falling, underneath his big arms wrapped around you. as you finally came down from your high, you pushed yourself up from his chest, placing a kiss to his jaw.

“you all good?” he asked, patting your back.

“yes.. i’m fine.” a laugh left your mouth , looking down at your legs and your shorts. you even noticed his hard on in his pants , making your face burn. “so uh.. you wanna keep going..” you looked up at him.

soon you were being picked up by him and taken to his bedroom, and as he threw you down on his bed, he was pulling his shirt off before helping you get the wet shorts you had on off as well, soon your panties also. he pushed his shorts down and as he pulled his boxers down, you were sitting there marveling at his body - he was carved by the gods themself. “what?” he said , noticing how you stared when he pushed his hands into his hair, pushing it back from his face before he was on top of you.

when he was on top, he placed his lips against yours. he smiled into the kiss, his hands feeling down your thighs and between your legs before his fingers gently pressed against your sensitive clit, causing you to shutter against him.

“anders..” you whimpered as he circled your sensitive clit. he breathed against your lips, trying to contain himself while his cock throbbed between his legs. he continued to push you to your edge before you were almost at your second orgasm then pulling his fingers away. your voice sounded desperate as you whined his name.

“you ready for me to fuck you?” he spoke as he pulled away, finding his body between your legs, pushing them around his hips.

you nodded, as he picked up his cock, pushing the tip through your wet folds. his cock was thick in his hand as he pressed his tip against your entrance. he took his free hand, pushing your leg up around his side. “okay baby..” he mumbled quietly before he pushed his cock into you, slowly pushing himself in further, leaning over you to stare at your face as you melted into ecstasy. he didn’t stop until his cock was fully buried inside of you, causing his head to fall forward, a grunt leaving him.

his hair was a mess as he held his hand to your hip, his fingers imprinting on your soft skin. “f-fuck anders..” your voice was weak as he composed himself, finally pulling out until he was nearly at the top again before slamming back into you. you cried out, your hands meeting the sheets, your fingers tightened within the soft fabric as he began to steadily thrust into you. your name fell from his lips as he threw his head back, fucking into you.

he soon leaned over you, placing his arms under your waist, holding your hips up higher to his as he fucked you, causing him to hit you at a different angle. your moans became louder as you melted under him. your back arched underneath him, you whines while he freed a hand to hold your face, causing you to look up at him.

“open..” he spoke softly, encouraging you to open your swollen lips so he could press his fingers into your mouth, his thick digits filling your mouth, your moans vibrating against his calloused skin.

as you sucked his fingers, he fucked his cock into you, picking up his pace while he watched his fingers go in and out of your mouth. “shit baby…” he groaned under his breath while he held your hips to him. you couldn’t express how close you were through speaking so you used your noises, moaning loudly around his fingers, your eyes hooded as you tried to keep yourself composed as you could feel your second orgasm rising through your skin.

“you bout to cum, baby?” he leaned closer to you, pulling his fingers from your mouth. you nodded. “no tell me more..” he spoke, his hand moving your hair from your face.

“yes.. fuck anders i’m gonna cum. i’m gonna cum on your fucking cock..” you strung your words together as he held your face.

“why don’t we cum together” he said, leaning back, knowing this meant you couldn’t just cum when you wanted to. he leaned back, placing both hands back on your hips, holding you up by your hip bones rather than under your back. he began to pull your hips to his, adding to the overwhelming pleasure growing. he thrusted into the spot which made you see stars, feeling himself edging closer every time he’d thrust into you. throwing his head back, he groaned.

“fuck baby i’m gonna cum oh my god..” his fingers began to bruise your skin as he gripped your hips.

“cum inside of me.. please anders-“ you whined. he knew you were safe - so he was almost begging in his head to be able to cum inside of you. you could feel yourself coming closer, almost being pushed over the edge until he finally said

“cum for me baby..” his words were gruff as he continued to rock his hips into you, watching as you finally let yourself go, your body arching towards him while you almost screamed his name, squeezing his cock with your walls, coaxing him to give you one final slam into your cunt before filling you up. you tried not to scream as he leaned over, holding you close as you rode through your orgasm. “fuck baby.. you’re so good.. god damn you’re so good..” he stilled his hips, fighting his own urges to continue fucking you through his own orgasm. he was deep in you, his cum could have dripped out with how much he dumped into you.

your chest was heaving as he slowly moved back, your eyes were very soft as you stared up at him.

“can i pull out or would you like me to stay here a little longer..” he asked, moving your hair from your face once more, leaning over to kiss you gently.

“y-you can pull out..” your voice was hoarse, leaving him to kiss your cheeks and forehead, your lips against them your chin before he sat up, slowly pulling out. he watched as his cum dripped from you, biting his lip before he got up, pulling on his boxers before getting a warm damp rag to clean you up from his bathroom. making his way back in, he watched as you slowly propped yourself up on your palms.

“you doin okay?” he spoke softly as he wiped between your legs, up your thighs and down between your folds. you nodded , a small sound of approval leaving your lips as you stared at him while he concentrated between your legs. he finally looked up at you, his blue eyes meeting yours. you leaned forward, placing your lips against his. he moved a hand to hold your face as he kissed you.

“i want to tell you something - but i just don’t want you to freak out..” your voice was soft as you spoke against his lips.

“yeah , what is it?” he slowly pulled away, moving to go and grab you some of his own sweatpants - “one second.” he jogged to your room, finding where you had put your clothes and found panties for you before jogging back. he walked over to you and helped put them on your frame.

“i uh.. i don’t know.. i just think i have to confess to you how much i’ve wanted to do that for so long..” you spoke as he pushed the pants up your legs.

“yeah?” his response wasn’t dismissive, he was thinking of a response. “well i’ve always.. felt the same. i just couldn’t ever tell you..” he looked up, his eyes meeting yours.

“ive wanted you for a long time” he shrugged. “ever since that first night we went out to dinner after a game. you’ve been the one i’ve wanted..” he said, placing his lips against yours.

“then why did you wait so long?” you asked as he pulled away, to grab a t-shirt for you. he came back to the bed and motioned for you to lift your arms up.

as he pulled the shirt over your head he spoke “well i could ask you the same thing.” he shrugged and finally sat back down on the bed with you, rolling back to lay with you in the pillows. “i guess maybe i just expected it to happen.. i’m not sure.”

you smiled, looking up at him with your frame against him. his chest was bare, and as you leaned against him you could feel as his heart beat.

“i’m not sure how this will work out, y/n.. but i love you. you know i love you but i mean it.. i love you so much that words fail to describe how much i’ve always wanted you.” he said, his eyes avoiding yours, almost embarrassed at having to dump out all of his feelings.

“i love you too anders.. so much.” you reached your hand up, forcing him to look down at you, a smile on your face as you did so. “you should treat me to dinner some time this week..” a giggle slipped from your lips as he rolled his eyes.

“yeah- if i can get you out of the house without wanting to fuck you again..” he chirped, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your lips. “you should take a nap again baby” he said, his hands rubbing down your back once more.

“you too..” you said, placing your face against his chest as you let sleep take over you again.

it was almost like everything that just happened was fake - how on earth did you just fuck your best friend and in all of it, confess your feelings to him in the process. you never thought he’d feel the same way but suddenly, when the two of you were left alone in a place no one could even think to interrupt, all the walls came crashing down.

you loved that boy; you’ve loved him ever since that night he showed an ounce of compassion that no star QB, no NHL bound forward, no highschool league baseball player could have ever shown any girl like he showed you.

the way his hands fit into yours and the way his lips felt when he kissed your head or the way his arm fell into the groove of your waist was never unnoticed in any situation where you were closer than just friends.

anders lee was your best friend and your love.. no one could ever take that from you, not now.

[iviarellereads]

My reasons for reading the Wheel of Time

Are you unsure about reading the Wheel of Time? Whether or not you read along with my blog project (explainer here and WOT link index here), this post may be for you!

If you don't want any spoilers before experiencing it yourself, I will just say: watch the first two seasons of the TV show, first. The adaptation changes a lot of the details, but the show is taking elements Robert Jordan wrote 30 years ago, more than a generation removed from today's sensibilities, and he changed his mind on a lot of things as he went on. Rafe Judkins is doing an incredible job of adapting to accommodate changing sensibilities/expectations, a change in medium, and the things RJ didn't decide to make part of his world until later books.

If you don't mind some light expectation-setting spoilers, I'm going to lay out why I love the Wheel of Time, some reasons to pick back up and/or keep going with the series if you ever started and fell off, as well as content notes by way of the downsides so you know what you're getting into.

I can't say whether any of my cons will be dealbreakers for you, or if the pros will make it worth the cons for any individual reader. All I can say is, knowing the bad, I still reread this series because it was worth it for me, and a lot of folks like me agree. If you don't think you can do it, full respect, hopefully I'll see you when I take breaks from this series. 🫡

My rationale

This is probably one of the dearest stories to my heart, and the one that I started refining this format with. I've been in this fandom for almost 15 years, and I wouldn't trade… well, maybe a second of it, but not much.

One of the most chunky fantasy series that exists, the Wheel of Time was begun in the late 1980s by Robert Jordan. When he passed in 2007, his wife and editor chose Brandon Sanderson to complete what they thought would be the final book (but ended up being three books) series with the help of extensive notes he left behind about his intentions for the story.

Even though it's over 30 years old, and there have been active discussion communities on just about all the social interactive platforms you can think of in that time, the Wheel of Time lacks a lot of spoiler-free resources. There are a couple of attempts to make spoiler-free wikis, but they just can't ever quite compare to the full-spoiler ones. There are Discord servers with first-time-reader channels, but not a lot of options for double checking what's safe to say at any given point for full-readers, OR ways for first-time readers to double check information, like if they think they misheard something, without asking and potentially getting spoiled by someone who misinterprets.

So, besides having keyword searchable notes for myself, my ultimate purpose in creating my notes in the first place is to help folks who haven't read the books, to have access to that sort of summary without having to search and get major later-plot spoilers. And since that led to everything else that led to this blog, I think it's only appropriate that I do, eventually, revise my notes and post them here.

I will probably be taking breaks between books. Most of the books in this series have 40, even 50+ chapters. I've already gone and entered it in my Google calendar for tracking (are you really surprised I do that?) and the first book will take me two and a half months to cover, all by itself, though the chapters only average out to ~15 pages each. We're going to be here at least 3 years, and with breaks between more like 4 or 5. Even so, I think it's right for me to do this one more time.

The Pros:

WIDE cast of characters, including women who get their own deep personalities, motivations, and arcs. Women are often in compare-and-contrast mirrors to men's similar experiences happening in parallel, and only rarely rewards or prizes to be won. (Caveat: even some people who have read the series may scoff at this one, but part of my efforts will be to help make the subtextual things a little more noticeable, because a LOT of character is in the subtext in these books because of the close-third unreliable narrator effect. It's fair to interpret them more shallowly, hell I used to, but then I started looking deeper and found so much more than I expected.)

Setup, foreshadowing, and payoff. Many plot seeds are planted, nurtured, and harvested at perfect ripeness. RJ was a conoisseur of foreshadowing in the subtext, text, and supertext of the story, and when each was most appropriate. Many of the old web rings, forums, and fan sites are long, long dead, but I can attest that this series does some absolutely incredible work with giving readers plenty of information to theorycraft widely and wildly. One particularly (in)famous mystery lasted 8 books across 17 years, and that's not even the longest one, just the easiest for us to point at.

Rarely introducing a new character where an old one will do. While there are over 2700 named characters, a lot of comparable stories would have near doubled that to tell this much story. It's really fun to see names pop back up in unexpected places, and track people who don't get POVs across the world as they say hello from different places and nudge the background plot along.

Evil is no simple thing. It's kind of a spoiler, yes, but I think it's fair when you look at the landscape in which it was written, and if we have a different standard today, it's due in no small part to the Wheel of Time's influence. The 80s and 90s in the fantasy corner of the publishing industry were not bastions of moral complexity. The Wheel of Time has the big literal supernatural capital-e Evil, and the humans who sign on to support it for their myriad reasons, but there are also multiple acknowledged human evils in opposition to it. The heroes and villains get a similar treatment of depth. Some people are nearer to the unquestioned poles of Good or Evil, but your fave is probably a war criminal at some point either way. This story goes on for 14 books plus a prequel, and that sort of simplicity doesn't inspire the sort of deep fandom these have. Nobody is as shallow as they seem at first glance, and most long-time fans have faves in the Light, the Dark, and everywhere in between.

Unreliable narration means there's a LOT more to this series than a surface reading indicates. There's a lot to the surface reading, and there's nothing wrong with it, unless you count "you don't really, fully understand a lot of the characters until you understand the discrepancies between their thoughts and their actions". My first reading was completely superficial and I still had a blast. But my second, and third? Especially after interacting with more of the fandom and honing my skills at media analysis, there's SO much more there to discover. Hopefully this read will help surface-readers get a bit more of the deep understanding, and if your surface reading previously felt unsatisfying or left you hating a lot of the characters, maybe this will help you better appreciate what's going on.

The Cons:

The sexism and gender binary. Gonna level with you, there's a lot of very heteronormative and gender essentialist vibes in here. It's cis binary genders only (with a singular terrible exception we'll deal with when we get to, but know that it's coming and it's handled pretty dreadfully even though you could give it a more charitable reading if you wanted to) and no matter the country or culture they're from, women and men each have very strange ideas about what the other gender is about. Robert Jordan was a US Southern cishet baby boomer Vietnam veteran, he almost certainly had some really unhinged ideas about gender relations. (Why it's not as much a con: two reasons. First, see unreliable narration above. Second, I think that one of the themes that really gets missed by a lot, a LOT of readers is that imposing binaries divides and weakens us. I will be exploring this whenever I remember that it's relevant to talk about and you may get real sick of it by the end. But, I think a lot of RJ's writing in this direction was intentionally drawing attention to how destructive it is. It's just never really stated out loud, it's once again in the subtext, and it doesn't always land the way I think he hoped. I promise, I will have the citations to back up my assertion by the end.)

Queerness: none good. There's one sweet sapphic relationship which is relegated to "gay until graduation" status at what amounts to a girls only boarding school, and never spoken of again except as friendship. In the encyclopedias, the characters in it are explicitly defined as straight. There are several lifelong lesbians who are explicitly one or the other of the kinds of evil. There's the one singular bad trans rep character. After the Sanderson portions start, there's one man who's said to be gay. RJ maintained in interviews that of course gay people existed, the story just wasn't any of theirs, which still burns me. (The show is making this MUCH better. I genuinely had faith in Rafe Judkins's adaptation after something he does in season 1 in this vein, and I have zero problem adding a little queer goggle view to all the interactions.)

We go six books where sexual assault is barely a concern, then get a handful of them all back to back in one book, with a few more sprinkled through afterward. There's a particularly troubling one against a male main character that a lot of the fandom doesn't even acknowledge as having happened. I'm not even gonna try to defend this, it's inexcusable, and if I'd known, I might not have read it, even if it's one of my favourite stories today. (Hashtag Please Fix It In The Show Rafe Judkins.)

The start is rough. The first book is very much a Lord of the Rings homage, where RJ hopes you'll see the places he diverges and stay along for the ride as he defies the standard fantasy outline of his day. The "come play with me in this space" of it means there are a number of potentially really interesting things that are just abandoned and never mentioned again, in alongside the things that were refined along the way. I won't always point these out because spoilers, but it's good to be prepared for some level of disappointment that the thing you want to see explored, isn't. (And hey, you can always explore it in fanfiction!)

And the series remained a work in progress to the end. RJ always thought he was just two or three books from done, ever since book 3. He wrote book 11 believing there would be just one more after it, but after his passing, his wife/editor Harriet McDougal, Brandon Sanderson, and the rest of what we call "Team Jordan" decided there was no way to fit what was in his notes into a single book, so they split it into the final three (books 12-14). So, sometimes things will feel like they're hurtling toward a destination that you know, from the rest of the stack, has to be several books off for a satisfying arc of it. Alls I can say is, at least we know the series has an end that it seems most people who reached it found fairly satisfying.

Adjacent to this, The Slog. There's a plot slowdown in the middle, not unlike the "middle of a trilogy" problem but it goes on for, at least for some readers and by some reckoning, 6 of the 14 books. Readers who like a fairly dry focus on politics and subtle character interaction more than plot will find this less painful. Readers like myself who need a plot to keep us hooked and moving forward will feel like the series drags its wheels in the mud for a couple thousand pages. This is anecdotally where a lot of readers quit the series, and they often cite this as a main reason. I can promise you the ending is worth the Slog to get there, if you're like me. But, my notes go from over 100 pages in Google Docs for book 4, to 57 for book 5, and just 12 pages for book 10, if you want a comparison of how thin the plot gets. (A lot of long-time readers will try to gaslight me about this, because they come out of the woodwork every time it comes up, and I'm telling you now: that's a great way to get blocked, because I have the receipts. I'm not saying the slog exists as a moral judgement against it or anyone who likes it. I'm literally just stating provable fact that the plot slows down and at least this reader feels it really hard.)

[talldecafcappuccino]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks for the tag, @chainofclovers!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

41

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 301,363

3. What fandoms do you write for?

It's really just Ted Lasso. I wrote a bit for The Lizzie Bennet Diaries years and years ago and then a couple one-offs for Schitt's Creek and The 100, but it wasn't much.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

my body over yours

calamine

when we were young

It's Great to Stay Up Late

love the lasso way

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, but I fell off for a while at the end of the last year. I feel weird not responding to comments and also it's just really nice to chat with people in comments. It's where I first met many of my fandom friends! Alas, it's harder to respond to comments on a multichapter because the story isn't done and I don't want to give anything away so I'm just like repeatedly saying "thanks for sticking with this fic!!"

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

home again - I pretty much only write happy endings, but the most open-ended thing I wrote was this post-finale fic for Ted Lasso that I suppose some people might find angsty for reasons (it's really not angsty, but like...I could see making an argument for it).

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

leader of the pack - To me this is the happiest possible ending to AppleTV+ Ted Lasso: a future fic with Ted and Rebecca happy together, splitting their time between London and Kansas until Ted's eventual retirement from coaching, but they still visit the games in the fan section (where the season ticket holders have a permanent seat saved for Ted).

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not that I'm aware of.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Not really. I've only written it as part of a larger story and I guess I don't tap into writing it very easily without a larger story to frame it (basically I need a whole lot of build up or context before I can write it which I suspect is thanks to demisexuality lmao)

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I’ve never set out to write a crossover, but I realized after the fact that my Ted Lasso goes on Queer Eye fic is in fact a crossover.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, just brainstormed with a friend or had a convo that sparked something, but never actually co-written anything with someone else.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

I don't have one! I don't like picking favorites in general and for ships there are different faves for different things and different faves for different seasons of life. I'm currently hyper-fixated on Ted/Rebecca, but that doesn't necessarily make them my all-time favorite ship.

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Hmm idk. I think the ones I want to finish are still able to be finished and any other ones I'm good with them remaining WIPs. I only have one active Ted/Rebecca WIP posted on ao3 and I plan to finish it.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think it’s dialogue. My honors English teacher said I was funny once and I've latched on to that as well.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I tend to get focused on plot and what's happening and I find it harder to just write someone's thoughts and emotions without it veering into melodrama (or at least it feels like melodrama to me).

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I think it's very cool if you are someone who knows another language or has the resources to do so and it works for the character/story/fic. Unfortunately I am terrible at languages (including my own) so I'll just appreciate it when someone else does it.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

I definitely wrote some very terrible HP one shots when I was like...13?

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

Idk about favorite but I'm proud I finished my bodyguard au the way I wanted to which makes it a fave based on that alone.

leader of the pack might be my personal fave because it's how I initially pictured an idealistic happy ending for the show (post-season 1)

But also I liked writing lots of my fics for different reasons. I really truly hate picking favorites!!

Tagging: I'm late to this and I feel like everyone I know who writes has been tagged already 😅 Please participate if you want to!!

[beardyboyzx]

2023 writing self evaluation

I was tagged by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed, thank you!! <3

1. List of works published this year:

May in my head we can love forever | Explicit | 1.2K, Girl Direction, Harry/Louis -- written for @wankersday

waving to the hard times | NR | 80k, A/B/O, Dystopian AU, Harry/Louis, Liam/Zayn -- written for @onedirectionbigbang [first part of a two piece series]

August I ain't ever fell from a love this tall | G | 733, Liam/Zayn -- written for @wordplayfics

September It's a rush inside I can't control | G | 764, Werewolf AU, Louis-centric -- written for @wordplayfics

you are the magic in me | NR | 2.8k, Magic AU, loosely inspired by BBC Merlin, Liam/Zayn -- written for @wordplayfics

so pretend (pretend) | NR | 1.9k, loosely inspired by White Collar and Catch me if you can, Harry/Louis -- written for @wordplayfics

November to wake up by your side is all I wanna do | G | 1k, AU, Niall/Zayn -- written for @theshowficfest

In 2023: I've published 7 works and a total of 89,283 words!

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

My Big Bang! I love that story so much, I'm still a bit sad I had to break it in half, but I'm still so proud of how it turned out (@aestheticlarrie's poster is such a masterpiece, I can't help but love that story more because of it <3) I didn't think I could pull it off -- the world building, the characterization...it all looked so intimidating while I was plotting it. But I did it. And I'm happy about it.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

Weirdly enough, there is nothing I'm the least proud of. Not even the ones I've written in a rush because of my poor time-managing skills lol

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

This bit from waving to the hard times keeps coming into my mind, every now and then:

Louis closes his eyes, taking in a few shaky breaths. He doesn’t want to cry. People will pity him if he will and he hates it. Hates being known as the orphan child, the one who was crying in his mother’s arms as they stood at his uncle’s side twenty-five years ago. He hates being remembered for it, being depicted by the newspapers as a symbol of overcoming grief. Because he’s found out that you can never overcome grief. You just live with it being a big part of yourself, letting it shape you while trying not to let the bad days get to you. Louis also hates not being able to be honest about it just because he doesn’t want to be coddled.

5. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

I can't share them, because they contain spoilers, but there are some comments on my big bang that really made me trust my (creative) writing skills a bit more! <3

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

Right after I finished the first part of my Big Bang. It was pretty hard for me to write, so much so that I had to drop out from a few fests because of it

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

Oh, I think Niall from (once again) waving to the hard times surprised me a lot. I didn't know he would turn out to be like that! But I loved him so much.

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

I don't really know. I re-learnt to let my mind wander and my fingers write without overthinking. Which is something I usually do when I write in Italian and that I used to do when I first started writing in English.

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

I just hope to keep writing what I like and for it to keep being something I love.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

Hello, @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed <3 She's been there for me for every writer's block, metaphorically taking my hand whenever I had to drop out of something, reminding me that taking a break was more than fine. Love you, Mia <3

@chai-hat-tea has been on my side for all the year by hearing my frustration and always cheering me up. Love you!

And @nooradeservedbetter, without whom I'd have been too afraid of publishing my dystopian au.

Last but not least, @bigxrig, @muldxr and @helznik who were my alpha/beta readers for my first two works of the year. Thank you so much, really <3

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

Louis' grief and some bits of my political thoughts.

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

Write what you like and don't forget to have fun while doing it!

14. Tag three writers whose answers you’d like to read. ;)

I'm gonna tag @chai-hat-tea, @nooradeservedbetter and @hellolovers13!

[khalaris]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

Ooh lots of fun questions, thank you @justhugsplz for tagging me <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

25.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

61,430 which is absolutely mind-boggling to me. And of those about 45k are Tatort Wien. Which I started writing exactly one year ago. For comparison, I've been writing fanfic for over 20 years and until I fell into Tatort fandom in 2021 I'd posted less than 3k in total.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Exclusively Tatort Wien at the moment. If I ever manage to peek my head out of that particular rabbit hole, I might get back to some Münster WIPs. Not in the near future, though :D

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Aufgeben -> Der Anruf -> Die Welt in unseren Händen -> Bordsteingespräche -> Loslassen

Haha, Tatort Münster with a little sprinkle of Wien. I don't usually sort by kudos, so it's a bit surprising to see Die Welt in unseren Händen rank so high. Well, high in a range between 75 and 34. That's just how it is in small fandoms :D

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, always. Sometimes it takes a while to get to it. But I always want to take the time and energy to write a proper response, because a) if someone else took the time and energy to tell me how they feel about my story, the least I can do is tell them how much I appreciate them commenting. and b) A comment always feels like the start of a conversation to me. I remember the long comment/discussion threads under fanfic on Livejournal and I miss the community of that. Nowadays it often feels like there's this growing gulf between author and reader, probably because of the current content creator/consumer culture that does little to invite equality or discussion.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Silence, a Torchwood CoE fic about John Frobisher's last moments.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Bordsteingespräche. I'm really proud of how everything came together in the end in that one :)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Nope, thankfully never.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

If you'd asked me that a month ago, I would have said no. But recently I kind of got over my terminal embarrassment at even trying to write anything smutty. I haven't posted anything yet, but there's several fics/chapters in the works. Tbh I don't find vanilla sex interesting and most of the usual kinks in fanfic are either squicks or a snooze-fest to me. The stuff that I am writing is either weirdly specific kink or just downright unsexy (which my characters are having a frankly outrageous amount of fun with atm, bless them).

I'm a bit hesitant to put any real smut in a fic that isn't actually primarily about the smut. I fear enough people might be put off by that, so hardly anyone would end up reading it then. Bit of a stupid fear to have, perhaps, but still...

(Yes, I know, I should just get over it and simply write and post whatever the hell I want 😅)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I've had a lot of crossover ideas over the years, but the only thing I've ever written was an MCU/Agents of Shield thingie I hacked out during NaNoWriMo a couple of years ago. Let's be honest, that combination is the least crazy crossover of all time and hardly counts as a crossover at all. Like 99% of the stuff I've ever written during NaNo, it's completely horrible, unfinished and should never see the light of day again.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Don't think so.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I've translated Bordsteingespräche myself, but was very unhappy with the result, which is why it's unavailable at the moment. It's going to get reworked at some point.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Many many years ago, when the world was still young and some of you not yet born 😂, the lovely @hope-calaris and I cooked up a tentative plot for a rather ambitious Star Trek: Voyager fanfic. We didn't end up writing that one, but later co-wrote a CSI: Miami one with someone else iirc and I believe there might have been a 4400 (?) fic, also. Due to depression, my memory of that time is hazy at best, though, so it's possible that I'm missing or misremembering things there.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

Didn't expect this question to be so difficult to answer, but is kinda is... 🙈 I guess any combination of my 3 Tatort Wien blorbos. Apart from that, Boerne/Thiel and Stephen Strange/Tony Stark are ships I can always come back to.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

The aforementioned MCU/AoS time-travel epic.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue, especially banter-y dialogue. And editing sentences/paragraphs for maximum impact (when I take the time to do it)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Action. What characters are doing, how they're moving, getting them from A to B and so on. Ugh.

External conflict. I despise conflict in real life and find it extremely difficult to write. You won't find an antagonist in any of my current stories or wips. And when I do write conflict between characters, that's always rooted in their internal conflicts and mostly the result of them not communicating properly.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

It's very hard to do right. Translations in footnotes are annoying and leave me confused while reading. Translations in brackets behind the dialogue also annoying and missing the point of having different-language dialogue in the first place. It can be good when the author puts enough context there that you can get the gist of what is being said without needing an actual translation.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

X-Files. There's probably some 23-year old notebooks in the back of a drawer somewhere at my mom's house that have fanfic snippets mixed with homework assignments.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Oof, that's another difficult one. I have several that are favourites for different reasons.

Bordsteingespräche for the sheer joy and ease with which it was written.

Kaputt for how much of my heart and soul I'm putting into it.

Die Welt in unseren Händen, because after twenty years of trying and failing I am now finally writing an epic long-form multi-chapter fanfic and I have so many plans and ideas for it. I cannot put into words just how wild that is. And I simply adore this version of my favourite characters.

No-pressure tagging @carlomenzinger, @kathastrophen and @all-my-worlds-a-stage if you want to :)

[rockinlibrarian]

For the author asks: 4, 12, 18

Author Asks! Now showing at a Tumblr Blog Near You!

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Well, now you've gone and reminded me that I have like thirty comments from Yuletide to respond to still. The answer SHOULD be a resounding Yes, but that one got me so many good comments in a row that I couldn't keep up, and then I forgot to go back!

But in ordinary circumstances, absolutely. You have given me an excuse to talk further about my story! Or at the very least, you have brought me a smile and I just want to say Thank You! The other day someone responded to a comment I'd left on their fic over a year ago, and I loved it-- I'd forgotten all about that comment, and that fic, and I got to experience it anew, and their reply that they'd looked at my comment "many times" added a sweetness that wouldn't have come from an immediate response, anyway!

So now I should go finish the comments on Jason and Chidi. Except I have to go to work in 20 minutes so maybe I'll put it off and forget about it again.

12. Have you co-written a fic?

The closest I've ever gotten on an official fic is "The Magic Man of Oz," which was brainstormed on a Discord server and I just ran with the results. I feel like I've cowritten stories-- not necessarily fanfics-- with friends before when I was a teenager, but the only one I can remember was when my cousin and I were passing a notebook back and forth each adding a sentence to a story that was about a homicidal guinea pig. Not a guinea pig. Some kind of large roundish rodent.

I remember reading Sorcery and Cecilia and writing a letter to another writer friend, "Check this book out, they wrote it by each taking a character and writing letters to each other in character, wouldn't that be fun?" but neither of us actually decided to ACT on the suggestion...!

18. What's the first fandom you wrote for?

Hmm. That's like asking me what my first Diana Wynne Jones book was. No, that's an even longer story, fanfic is simpler.

Somewhere back like fifteen years ago, when I was spending the majority of my online time on LiveJournal, I was puzzled at myself for apparently never having written fanfic. But it's exactly the sort of thing I'd DO! But like with Diana Wynne Jones books, I discovered I was wrong, when I picked up my old Junior Girl Scouts badge book and a scene from Ducktales fell out, apparently in response to a writing badge assignment to write a piece of fanfiction. I had had no memory of this writing experience!

In my pulling a daily writing prompt period, "The Pipeweed Mafia Epic" technically came first, but I don't think I clocked it as fanfic because it was Real Person Fic. The first one I had the concept in my head of "Oh, this is FANFIC" was for a DIFFERENT prompt that made me go, "Sounds like an X-Files plot. OH, okay, guess I'm writing X-Files fic!" I eventually shared it here! It's crack. X-Files crack. You should read it.

I messed around with some more random fanfics (one of which I eventually posted, a few more of which I may finish someday-- I'm very fond of my how-Wash-and-Zoe-Washburn-fell-in-love story and WANT to finish it eventually) in the intervening time, but of course it was Legion I got an AO3 account for. And is still my most-written fandom! Because SOMEBODY'S got to write Loudermilk Twin stories so it might as well be me!

Hmm, my "You should start getting ready for work" alarm didn't go off, so now I should REALLY start getting ready for work.

[kyogre-blue]

OK, post timeskip GD, go!

Got up to the bridge, which means unifying the Alliance and presumably starting an offensive against the Empire.

I've gotten all the B ranks on my supports, a bunch of A ranks, and all of Byleth's available ones except Lysithea A (which is blocked off) and someone's S. The A ranks really vary a lot in terms of how involved they are, with some being quite nice, but others being pretty whatever.

Unfortunately, some of the basic issues with the support system start to get pretty obvious. You end up doing them in batches, so they get tiring. Additionally, if you watch a few for the same character in a row, there's often overlap in what they discuss, since the characters only have a few traits. Worse, none of the growth in one support can carry over to another or even a paralogue (or to the main story). The supports just become disconnected what-ifs, in a way.

(And this not mentioning the issue that some major character details always end up hidden in the most out there support, which in 3H will require some bizarre recruitment combination.)

In regard to the main story, I don't have too much to say. It's kind of spinning its wheels while we get the new plot on the road, but it's fine. It's just... fine. Hopefully, it'll pick up once we start the real battles.

Notes again:

1185, nearly 5 years since the monastery fell. But it fell several months into 1181, so like... it's 4 years and change.

Kingdom capital has fallen, Leicester alliance is split between supporting the Church and the Empire.

Sothis is here again somehow.

Tomorrow is the Millennium Festival, how convenient. Byleth came floating down a river from Garreg Mach. It is Ethereal Moon, but... Which one is that again...

Ok, I see why AC said the reunion was underwhelming. It's cute but the buildup is non-existent.

Byleth's first concern is Rhea (relatable) but Claude thinks it might be better that she's gone. He doesn't explain why. I am gonna need some time to get used to everyone's adult voices.

Lorenz is quite chill about his father's uh allegiance.

Lorenz: This was inevitable, since our lands are so close to the empire, we have to side with them or lose our necks. Lorenz also: BUT MAYBE IF CLAUDE DIDN'T SUCK

The amount of times you can ask after Rhea is... hum. Rhea is the most personal priority for Byleth. They're definitely not upset or unsettled by her, which is funny.

Seteth thought that maybe Rhea would turn up on the millennium festival.

Claude wanted to use the monastery as a base of operations due to its location.

Why are we talking to this Seiros Knight NPC? Was an unavailable playable meant to be filling this role?

Leonie A1 with Lorenz: she gives back a handkerchief... after 5 years. Leonie's village is called Sauin. It turns out Lorenz's family were the ones who hired Jeralt to help the village all those years ago. Lorenz is still punchable, btw.

Marianne A with Hilda: Their previous two ranks were more abrasive than I expected. The A is... OK? Given their popularity as a pairing, I expected something a bit more.

Cyril A with Hilda: This doesn't feel like it should have been gated to the timeskip. This A is also kinda underwhelming. It's okay, but knowing their relationship can't advance any further is... yeah.

Not really feeling the new monastery and menu music.

They did at least change the skybox to be yellow, which is something. Makes it feel autumn-y, which is... not correct. It would be nice if somewhere aside from the cathedral interior had some visible damage.

Claude A with Byleth: He admits to not being born in Fodlan (presumably because this has nothing on Byleth being potentially not even human) though doesn't name where he's from specifically. In Almyra, people from Fodlan are viewed as cowards, which Claude attributes to ignorance (if they just met and interacted with real people from Fodlan, like his mother, they'd know better). They also looked down on him for being of mixed blood.

He came to Fodlan to try and find "a new perspective" in his goal of breaking down those barriers, but people in Fodlan are even more racist, seeing people from other nations as just beasts. He wants to bring the whole world together and start anew. I know nothing bad happens, but uh. That's, hm... At least he realizes that it was extremely unrealistic... but Claude recognizes Byleth's magic dragon god powers and thinks they can make it happen together.

At first, I was wondering why we can view Ferdinand supports when he didn't turn up, but he IS here? He wasn't in the battle or the scene after...

Ferdinand has lost his territory and is determined to stop Edelgard no matter the cost. Per his B, he always intended to unseat his father. I guess, like Lorenz, he wasn't really onboard with his evil dad from the start.

Marianne and Lorenz A is....... uh. She's not going to smile while telling you about how her family is cursed, dude.

OK, so for weekly Instruct, we're using the Cardinals' room that was sealed before, and instead of the faculty giving staff training, we run advanced drills with the students.

Byleth's open mouthed shock when told Dimitri was killed (supposedly). And then a droopy sad posture.

"Faerghus Dukedom"

Claude approves if you ask him whether he hopes Rhea is dead. He just has things he wants to ask. It's interesting given that Claude presents himself as being in your corner, and Byleth has a big bend toward asking after her, seemingly in concern.

Claude thinks that most people accept the "noble system" because of their belief in the Seiros faith. They also have prejudices against non-believers too. That's... hm. A take, for sure.

So without Rhea, the supposed closed-minded Church doctrine will weaken and there will be more room for free thought, which Claude considers a cure-all.

Claude's ultimate goal here is to have Byleth take over the church and lead Fodlan that way. Then, people could be free to think for themselves. He thinks Edelgard is after something similar. He just doesn't like that she's using so much bloodshed to get there. Not necessarily because he disapproves but because the world "can't get behind" it.

But since Rhea is probably still around, we still have questions, and Byleth ambiguously might care about her (MY A RANK), Claude backpedals into finding her being the next step and quickly hurries you off to bed.

Claude and Cyril B: Claude never knew that there were people in Almyra in Cyril's situation. Which is to say... poor and exploited? Or...?

If no one else is in Rhea's corner, Cyril is. I appreciate that he doesn't just support her because she helped him personally, but because that's the kind of person she has been - trying to help those without any status and nowhere to go. Rhea helps refugees and orphans not just because of the goddess's teachings, but because it's the right thing to do.

Claude: OK, maybe Rhea is fine. Maybe.

GROWTH??

Too bad supports are basically not canon.

Claude and Lorenz A: Claude is fine giving up leadership of the Alliance to Lorenz now that he's gotten to know him. But same is true for Lorenz. Kinda gay. Not bad.

Claude was only recognized as the heir to Reigan thanks to Judith's recommendation. Which is interesting given his background.

Marianne's paralogue: One of the 10 Elites got cursed by his crest and he turned into a monster... that was still sentient and can talk. And he ate people. Unclear if anyone else with the crest was actually affected, or if they just carried that stigma for a thousand years...

Claude and Marianne A has an interesting implication about the timeline. Claude frames it as him running away from home as soon as he was old enough because he was tired of being discriminated against and hoped that Fodlan would be better. It was only after he arrived in Leicester and realized that it's no different that he came up with his idea to break down the boundaries between Fodlan and Almyra.

It makes more sense that his plan would be so weirdly underbaked if he's had it for less than a year and made it when he was despairing over having no place he could belong.

Flayn and Ignatz B: Flayn forgets the Church party line about the Elites being good guys, lmao. Also forgets that Saint Cethleann is generally portrayed as a woman, not a girl.

Ailell, the Valley of Torment, is the required lava stage. It was created when some kind of big heaven light destroyed the forest that used to be there. It's rumored to have been the wrath of the goddess, but that isn't recorded in scripture. (It's actually the Agarthans lol)

Count Rowe was in charge of Arianhodr (spl??) but betrayed the Kingdom to join the Empire. His general, Gwendal, wasn't happy about all this.

Judith accuses Claude of neglecting the Alliance territories for years. He left his territory with a reliable retainer ("Nardel"). Without Byleth's clout, he'd look like a "scoundrel leader." Judith leaves her territory with "Nardel" too, which is... lol.

One of Judith's men saw Rhea be dragged off by the Empire five years ago.

[triviareads]

ARC Review of It Had to Be a Duke by Vivienne Lorret

Rating: 4/5 Heat Level: 3.5/5 Publication Date: November 28th

Premise:

When Verity Hartley lies about being betrothed to Magnus, Duke of Longhurst, she doesn't expect him to hear about it, much less show up and agree to go along with her scheme and pretend to be her betrothed for a week. Magnus is deeply unhappy about having to feign affection towards the daughter of the man that swindled him years ago, at least, until he gets to know Verity better...

Review:

This is the first book in Vivienne Lorret's new series, The Liar's Club, and the book did a good job of balancing the main plot with introducing a new cast of characters and setting up future couples. I'm particularly looking forward to the hot blond vicar (who Verity spied on while he was bathing naked, and later the man did try to court her but was rejected HARD lolol) getting his own romance.

I had a lot of fun reading this book. It featured classic Vivienne Lorret hijinks, complete with a spunky heroine, a grumpy hero, small-town shenanigans, and an old family mystery.

Verity is a messy gal— she definitely falls on the klutzy, quirky end of the spectrum but she was endearing enough, particularly in her moments of vulnerability, to make up for any over-the-top physical comedy (see: the time she fell out of a tree and ended up getting accidentally groped by the hero). A lot of her vulnerability stems from feeling like she's second best compared to her sisters, and even Magnus's sort-of betrothed. That being said, I appreciate that most of these women (barring Verity's nemesis) end up being solid friends who are very supportive of one another. I also liked how Vivienne portrayed Verity's claustrophobia and corresponding panic attacks— it's something I imagine a lot of modern readers can relate to.

Magnus is just the right amount of stern and grumpy to be endearing. Reading him slowly crack and come to terms with his attraction towards Verity was a joy to read. Really, my only (very minor) complaint is that for all the author went off about how biiiig and jacked and "swarthy" he was because he works the fields (since he can't afford a lot of workers), we never got a scene where he was actually laboring in the fields. Shirtless, preferably. But this mostly goes to show he's very duty-bound and intent on bringing his estate back to life, which is why he tries So Hard to resist Verity... until he doesn't, even as he continues to insist he's going to marry another woman for her dowry.

The second half of the book delves deeper into the mystery of exactly who swindled Magnus's father all those years ago, and it concludes in a way that sets up the rest of the series.

The sex:

Listen, because of how clumsy Verity is, I expected nothing less than a sex scene that's initiated by her basically falling on top of Magnus, and Vivienne absolutely delivered. Plus, I'm a sucker for a study scene. By the time they have sex, their feelings for each other have settled even if they're unwilling to admit it, so the sex itself is very tender with a dash of desperation.

Also, shoutout to Lady Hartley for providing a comprehensive sex education to her daughters, complete with sock puppets.

Overall:

This is a great historical romance for anyone looking for a light read that's sure to make you laugh, and also has solid sex scenes. I adored the easy (if unwilling at first) affection that grew between Magnus and Verity, as well as their banter, and I look forward to the following books in this series!

Thank you to Avon and Harper Voyager and NetGalley for an advanced copy of this book in exchange for my review.

[berryunho]

Just binge-read The Answer in a day and let me say that the plot is fucking insane, how the hell do you people come up with something so intense? Lmao, anyways I love reacting to mc's actions and inner monologue like a bff hearing some tea over a videocall "girl no he stabbed you, dont think about him as a normal person, he isnt one, with him its supposed to be throwing hands on sight for sURVIVAL"

And yet I still managed to get gaslit, girlbossed and gatekept by her relationship with san, tell me why I was here reading chapter 29 and thinking "wow he really is bringing up some red flags now after that fight" and then had to stop myself right there because the very first red flag that man had raised was from the very beginning wheRE HE GREETS HER TO THE CULT *BC HE IS PART OF THE MF CULT*

I CANT BELIEVE I FELL FOR IT, WTF

Anyways, can't wait for more, but take your time lol, I am as excited as everyone else but you are doing this for free and with something this good it's honestly such a service, thanks for all the effort <3 hope you're doing well and hope that you keep writing even after or outside of The Answer because you genuinely do such an amazing job building up descriptions and characters, I am very curious about everything we are yet to see, and I did wanna ask, sorry if you have answered this before, but do you already have an ending planned for the story?

- 👁👁

UM ? I LOVE YOU WAIT LET ME PUT THE OTHER MESSAGES UNDER THE READ MORE AND THEN RESPOND LAKDJF;ALKSDFJ

Just wanted to add that not only do I react like a nosy bff in a call with the mc as I read The Answer, but I also judge the absolute hell out of her choices not as in "this is gonna get you killed" but as in "I would 100% be going tinfoil hat in HJ's ass about the other world ages ago for entertainment alone" I CAN'T BE THE ONLY ONE CMON Mr Cultist wants me to go from city dwelling college student to hillbilly cult wifey in 2 days? HE TAKES AWAY MY PHONE ONLY TO TELL ME HIS BIBLE FANFIC IS BASED OFF THE SHIFTING REALITIES COMMUNITY? THE ONE THAT WAS BIG ON TIKTOK IN 2021? Be fucking for real, I would, on day 1, sit down in front of him and go "already, so whats up with the other you? You two still chat? Also whats up with his version of Hwa? Is he a petty little shit too? Are they in a questionable fwb situationship too? Do you still get prophecies? If so, why are there so many prints of your walmart bible around? Cause that seems like an awful waste when you will inevitably have to print just as many more with the new updates so wtf" He takes away my entertainment when I have the attention span of a 4 year old? Fine, he is gonna have to entertain *me* now to make up for it, bible study time? More like you are now my social media outlet where I'm gonna rant about my crazy theories, my favorite ships and I will overanalyze each and every plot hole in your bible sir, I don't care that its a prophecy, I want consistency from your writing about the other world, I want detailed descriptions, I want to feel like I am there, how do you expect to win New York's best seller with this vague ass paragraph about your little lost boys crew in trenchcoats? I'm gonna annoy him into killing me and realizing I'm not the one, his stalking time all going down the drain. I consider this an absolute win for me.

Okay I'm so sorry for sending another ask when I just sent two humongous ones lol but I did remember one thing I wanted to ask and I hope it doesn't come off wrong bc I mean nothing bad about it at all but back when HJ was all "I'm only gonna do the devils tango with you when you beg me to uwu" and mc thinks "damn, at least my local cult leader got some consent morals going" I couldn't help but stop myself and wonder: girl. He made out with you. In front of at least 40 people. When you were drugged. Clearly tripping. By his orders. And he stabbed you right after but most importantly he has bragged about making out with you IN FRONT OF A CROWD WHEN YOU WERE TRIPPING BY HIS OWN DESIGN And yknow, my question is: was mc's (continuous) lapse in judgment in this moment to blame for her not realizing he in fact does not give a flying fuck about consent and she just let that slide bc the cult mentality was getting to her (which we do see progress over the story, and its been one of the most interesting parts of the fic btw, I think you did really well with that) or did you not mean for it to be that and I read too much into it? Lol because yeah he is a self admitted and apparently diagnosed psycho but you'd think he would see how this morals he just tried to brag and seduce her with are not moralling at all. Or maybe he just hoped she wouldn't realize his delusional-moral compass isn't gonna point correctly no matter what way he tries, I'm definitely thinking too hard about it at this point lmao HE REALLY IS GETTING INTO MY PARANOID BRAIN, THE MIND GAMES ARE CONSUMING ME FR Anyways, again, sorry for the long asks one right after the other, I'll stop pestering now.

I fucking lied, I'm sending another one to ask if you happen to have any fics to recommend that maybe give off The Answer vibes or that you think may be a good read while we are all on standby bc I just got hit by the withdrawals-after-a-good-fic now that I realized I can't keep reading since I got to the last chapter lol. I'm so sorry. - 👁👁

first of all let me say it again: i love you. thank you so much for reading the answer and for being kind and for wanting to tell me and ask me so many things!! i really, really appreciate it and pls dont feel bad for sending me asks (big or small) bc it just makes me SO happy lol i feel bad that you've been waiting for a response for so long but LKJF:KDJF:AKDF I WILL DO MY BEST TO ADDRESS EVERYTHING so here we go:

I did wanna ask, sorry if you have answered this before, but do you already have an ending planned for the story?

hehe no worries at all!! i do have an ending planned and i know how we will get there, but there are certain elements and plot points that aren't solid yet and could be changed!! but i am set on the ending ^^

the entire second ask is just so valid. like tbh i would absolutely be the same. like id be scared af for a few days but once i realized i wasnt gonna like DIE immediately and that i could get away with annoying hj like at least a little bit id be on his ass. honestly and truly the main reason that i havent written more of like... the answer in the story is bc im too concerned that anything i wrote would be torn apart for analysis when i wouldnt actually be reading that far into it LKJA;SKFDJSD bc like you're right anything that hj would be writing would be very pertinent information TO HIM but like... does it actually mean anything... or is it just words... LOL idk if that makes sense but everytime i try to write like in the style of a religious text with the answer lore it sounds so ridiculous i just cannot take myself seriously enough to do it KLAJKS;DFJASKFD BUT HELP YOU POINTING OUT THE SHIFTING LORE? LITERALLY THE EXACT SYSTEM I STOLE THIS LORE FROM I HAD NO IDEA WHAT I WAS DOING WHEN I STARTED WRITING I WAS JUST LIKE idfk whats something weird that i can connect to the ateez lore that i dont remotely understand AND THATS WHAT I CAME UP WITHALKDSFLA;JDSFJLSKDJ you are real

And yknow, my question is: was mc's (continuous) lapse in judgment in this moment to blame for her not realizing he in fact does not give a flying fuck about consent and she just let that slide bc the cult mentality was getting to her (which we do see progress over the story, and its been one of the most interesting parts of the fic btw, I think you did really well with that) or did you not mean for it to be that and I read too much into it?

eheheeheheheheh i really was waiting for someone to point this one out!!! i definitely meant it to be a lapse in her judgement and like a ...... hmmm idk how to put it like she's selectively forgetting things that don't match with what she WANTS to believe !! like personally i would never in my life write a member of ateez to be a rapist so we obvs won't be worrying about that BUT if this were a real situation, that would probably be a very real fear to have and i figured it would be a good thing to address in case anyone was like. worried about that. LKAJSKFDJASDLFK but yes you're right they're obviously not above MURDER so like. how much credit can we give them. its really just mc wanting desperately to alleviate some of her fear and believe that she is at least a tiny bit safe (even though that is CLEARLY not the case)

if you happen to have any fics to recommend that maybe give off The Answer vibes or that you think may be a good read while we are all on standby

heh this one is tough because ... im not really a fanfic reader LAKJDFKLAJSDFK but my beloved mutuals bee (@atzfilm) and caly (@hongism) are geniuses hehe !! bee writes dark fics that are mwah chefs kiss and caly writes mists of celeste which has a toxic unyielding leader hongjoong. so. you know.

SO YEAH ANYWAYS? THANK YOU SO MUCH AGAIN FOR THESE ASKS AJDKFALSDKFJSKLDJ AND IM SORRY AGAIN THAT IT TOOK ME FOREVER TO REPLY AND THAT THE UPDATE IS ALSO TAKING FOREVER LOL I HOPE YOU'RE STILL AROUND LAKJDFLKSJDF