xtarmanderx

[xtarmanderx]

Day 14 of posting daily for pride! Been a minute since I have posted this pairing, but have some SalBrian!

tell me which way the path will go, my future lies in your presence

-

Sal wakes in slow increments, the fog of sleep difficult to break through today. But there’s a warm weight against his side, someone’s head resting on his chest, and he takes a moment to try and map it all out. His own arm is wrapped around the person’s waist, broad hand covering someone’s smooth hip, and his other hand is resting on his stomach just inches below another person’s fingers. He knows without question who it is draped over his body like this. Knows that he’s made a fatal mistake and has probably damned himself for eternity, but he doesn’t have the strength to care. Not when Brian’s resting on his pec, breaths slow and even in his sleep.

The sheets are somewhere down around Sal’s thighs and he’s a little cold now, so he turns his body inward toward Brian and buries his face down against the man’s hair. Moving was a mistake though because he feels the man begin to wake up, the sound of his breathing shifting. “Sal?” The words are a weak rasp and Sal hums, squeezing his hip in reassurance.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.” Sal murmurs, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

“Cold.” Brian mumbles. Chuckling softly, Sal grabs the covers bunched around his thighs and drags them up over the two of them. He shifts and readjusts for a moment, dragging his other hand up and down Brian’s spine with a steady pressure.

[xtarmanderx]

🔔 please please!

@winterbuckwild xx

547 new words and this fic is officially done! Will be posting ASAP!

-

When they part, Brian looks mournful and Sal knows that his good morning is about to come to an end. “I should probably go. I need to pick up groceries today and run a few more errands.”

”Call me next time you’re looking for some fun.” Sal murmurs.

”You’re more than just a bit of fun, Salvatore.” Brian kisses him chastely and lightly pats his cheek. “Walk me back to my car?”

[xtarmanderx]

More 🤔 please, my friend!

Your wish is my command, dear friend! 436 brand new words!!

-

”I’m going to meet up with my captain tomorrow.” Tommy tells him, eyes twinkling as he pulls back. He looks devastatingly handsome like this, soaked in sweat and his hair tousled, and Buck’s going to need to make a quick escape before he embarrasses himself. “We got invited out tomorrow night to celebrate.”

”Oh? What kind of celebration?” Buck raises an eyebrow at the other three and the lanky man laughs, holding up his hands and shaking his head.

“Not me,” he says quickly, “I am the last person you want on your trivia team.”

”Lazlo’s the last person we want on any team.” Fiona says with mock seriousness, though she can’t stop her grin when he lightly punches her in the shoulder.

[xtarmanderx]

❓️BuddieTommy pls pls pls!

@winterbuckwild

@winterbuckwild Hey again! 451 brand new words. Warnings for an intense nightmare!

-

The shadows stretch and warp as Buck runs down what feels like a never ending passage, the photos around him beginning to ooze blood and warp into Buck’s worst nightmares. Eddie bleeding out in the street after the sniper attack. Christopher swept away in the tsunami. Tommy’s broken body found near a helicopter crash. They flash quickly past him until his foot steps on something that crunches beneath his bare foot.

When he looks down, he sees Christopher’s glasses on the floor now cracked and stained with Buck’s blood. “CHRIS!” The scream is torn from his throat, broken and feral, and he finds himself standing in front of an open door. He doesn’t want to look inside, afraid of what he might find, but he needs to know. Shaking, he steps over the threshold and finds himself staring at an empty bed. “Chris?” His heart beats faster in his chest as he moves further into the room. A curtain flutters over the open window, but otherwise there is stillness in the air. It’s stifling and wrong like everything else in this house of horrors.

[xtarmanderx]

🫂 I dont go here, but please!

@winterbuckwild

@winterbuckwild thanks for this!! 445 words were written and here is a quick taste of the new chapter!

-

”She’s still adjusting to being bipedal.” Reiner explains, a ghost of a smile forming. “Before…well, before…she struggled a lot after the transition. Relied on a crutch for days at a time, sometimes weeks, and she was always sprawling out over furniture or on the floor. She said it eased the strain in her muscles. Being the Cart Titan was taxing on her in ways I can’t even imagine.”

”And you?” Jean finds himself asking, putting a hand on Reiner’s knee. “Being the Armored probably wasn’t a walk in the park.”

”No,” Reiner admits with a wry smile, “it wasn’t.” A crease forms between his brows and Jean gives in to temptation, reaching up and smoothing it down with his thumb. Reiner’s breath hitches.

“Will you tell me about it?” Jean asks, carefully brushing over Reiner’s eyebrow.

[xtarmanderx]

Make Me Write

All right. My WIPs are piling up and getting a little stagnant again. So. I’ll write 300 words for any of the below and post a short snippet. I may not post the full 300 words like I often do, I feel like I struggle more when I post the full set because I worry about giving away the plot of the fic. But! I will post how many words I wrote and then a snippet from those words to garner some interest. Send me the emoji and I’ll answer ASAP! (I also might go take a nap after posting this!)

1. Nightmares Reijean 🫂

2. Prisoner Reijean (alternate season 3 where Pieck and Zeke don’t rescue Reiner) ⛓️‍💥

3. Roommate Ruca ✍️

4. Werewolf/vampire Tevan 🐺

5. Shenko after Mars archives mission 🏥

6. A surprise twins fic (Ruca and Tevan pairings, fic will vary) 🚔

7. SalBrian morning after 🔔 This fic is finished now!

8. Mystery prompt ❓(Give me one of the following pairings with this emoji and I’ll make progress toward a prompt I have for them that’s in my inbox still (BuddieTommy, Tevan, SalEddie, Ruca, Thiam, Jett)

9. Soulmate Tommy POV Tevan 👣

10. Double amnesia Tevan 🤔

[xtarmanderx]

Last Line Tag!

Thanks @inawickedlittletown for the tag! Here’s a tiny sneak peak of another Reijean fic that I am writing and rewriting behind the scenes. I don’t think I’ve scrapped and rewritten this many scenes in a while. 😅

-

Some of his hair has started to grow back in soft blond tufts.

-

Tagging: @30somethingautisticteacher, @typicalopposite, @fairytalegonewronga03, @snaeken, @equallyloyalandlethal, @transdunbar, @spiderraeken, @fand0mfancies, @winterbuckwild, @sunnywithachanceofbi, @judymarch15, @dearqueend, @loulou-land and anyone else who wants to participate!

[xtarmanderx]

Day 13 of posting daily for pride! Still going strong!

batten down the hatches, this storm's gonna leave us battered and bruised

-

Reiner’s hands are limp at his sides as he walks through the quiet town. It’s too early for most people to be awake, which is both a blessing and a curse. He doesn’t want to be alone with his thoughts, but he doesn’t exactly want anyone to be privy to his feelings at the moment either. He’s already going to get enough questions from his family, he doesn’t need them from his friends. And if word somehow got back to Jean…well, Reiner doesn’t want that guilt to be heaped upon him. He’s been through enough.

Over the last twelve years, Reiner thinks leaving Jean for now a second time is one of the hardest decisions he’s ever made. He’d barely closed his eyes before Jean had started whimpering in his sleep, sweat breaking out across his brow. And the moment Reiner had heard a pitiful plea to Marco, followed by him begging Reiner, he had known that he would never be forgiven for his transgressions. He’d never deserved it.

It’s not the first time he’s faced nightmares and he knows it won’t be the last. Hell, it’s the reason he’s been fucking exhausted for the last few days. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees the broken bodies of his former comrades. Of his enemies. There’s been a sea of blood spilled under his hands and he will never be able to atone for it. He thinks maybe he should have pulled the trigger after all.

He’s shaken from his thoughts by a screen door opening as he reaches the bottom step of a wraparound porch. He stops in his tracks, looking up as the woman who molded his future steps out with a smile. Her face lights up at once. “Reiner?” She wipes her hands on an apron and he swallows hard, nodding. “What are you doing here so early? Come in, you must be starving!”

“I’m okay, mom.” He offers a bitter lie. Her face falls a fraction and she reaches for his arm, carefully pulling him up the stairs. He goes willingly, hunching in on himself as she studies him.

“Are you having boy troubles?” She asks, no judgment in her tone. Still, he startles and pulls himself free of her hold while waiting for anger or disgust. If she notices, she doesn’t say a word.

[xtarmanderx]

Day 12 for posting daily for pride!

bite me, claim me, mate me {but baby please don't break me}

-

“You going on a date or something?” Sal asks, craning his neck over the back of the couch as Tommy walks into the living room.

“Evan’s sister invited me for dinner last week.” Tommy says, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and fastening the small buttons to keep them pinned up. “It’s with Howie from the 118. I told you he was married to Evan’s sister, right?”

“Three times now.” Sal snorts and turns his attention back to the television. Tommy nods and then pauses, slowly turning to look at his roommate. From this angle, he can see that Sal’s jaw is faintly clenched and there’s tension in his shoulders.

“Hey.” Tommy quietly comes around the couch and sits down on the coffee table, raising an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Sal says, an edge of warning in his voice. “Just trying to watch the game. Your ma didn’t make you out of glass.”

“Pretty sure that’s not how the saying goes.” Tommy’s lips twitch into a faint grin and he sighs when Sal’s expression doesn’t change. “Come on, man. Talk to me.” He nudges their ankles together and Sal’s jaw quivers for a split second before his gaze shifts fully to Tommy.

[xtarmanderx]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @inawickedlittletown and @transdunbar, thank you lovelies!

My new Reijean stuff has been clawing at my brain, so here’s a snippet from the new multi-chaptered fic I started for one of the upcoming chapters!

-

“Why are men so stupid?!” Gabi practically screams at him and Jean bites down on a childish retort. “Fine.” Her fists clench at her sides. “It will be your fault if anything happens to him.”

“Are you seriously trying to guilt trip me?” Jean scoffs in disbelief. “I’m not-“

“Gabi.” Reiner’s voice dries the words on his tongue and he swings his head around. “Your mom is looking for you.” He says, not meeting Jean’s gaze.

And even though it’s only been a few days, Jean can see the differences. Dark shadows hang under Reiner’s eyes, the skin damn near purple. His cheeks look a little more gaunt, too. He’s not standing at his full height, shoulders bowed forward like he’s trying to make himself smaller, and Jean wonders if he’s the reason for that. There’s a heaviness in the air around him that’s practically tangible and it tastes like sorrow on the tip of Jean’s tongue.

“Ugh. I was a Warrior candidate, I can wander around on my own!” Gabi exclaims before stalking off in the direction Reiner’s just come from. And as the other man begins to move away, Jean finds himself opening his mouth.

“Reiner.” He doesn’t miss the way tension lines Reiner’s shoulders before he turns himself around. “How have you been?” He asks.

“Fine.” A brittle smile forms and Reiner’s hands are shoved down into his pockets. “How are you doing?”

“I’m surviving. Some days I wish I wasn’t.” Jean admits before he can think twice. Reiner’s mouth turns downward and he nods his head.

“Yeah. I think I can relate.”

“Reiner…”

-

No tags because it is so late, but anyone is free to join in if they see this! ❤️

[xtarmanderx]

Day 11 of posting daily for pride! Proud of myself for pushing through this chapter, it’s been fighting me for far too long.

we met at the wrong time, fell at the right time, but you’re still out of reach and baby i’m tired of the pleas

-

“An angel?” Bobby thoughtfully looks between Buck and Tommy. “It’s a hell of a theory, kid.”

“But it could be plausible, right?” Buck rubs his palms down against his thighs. They’re sitting down in Bobby’s office, the older man asking Buck if they could talk in private once they got back. Buck loves Bobby’s office. It’s got pictures of the team and little knick knacks cover his desk and bookshelves, gifts he’s received over the years. They’re all small signs of life and a comfort to Buck when he remembers the days where Bobby had almost given it all up.

“I don’t know. Angels are more myth than anything.”

“They’ve been in religious texts for centuries,” Buck argues. “And there are demons!”

“A classification of highly intelligent and dangerous ghosts. Not exactly what religious texts mention.” Bobby counters, ever the voice of logic against Buck. Usually he appreciates the conversations that come from it, but right now he’s feeling frustrated. It’s the second time in under a week that he’s nearly died to a ghost and he’s always been a little rash, but he’s rarely gotten in danger quite like today. Sure, he’d saved Hen and Chim, but nearly at the cost of his own life.

“What about the banishment ritual? It didn’t work on Tommy.” He flings a hand toward the ghost in question and Tommy lifts an eyebrow back at him. “That has to mean something!”

“And I don’t disagree with that, Buck. All I’m asking is that you keep your mind open to other possibilities.”

[xtarmanderx]

Day 10 of posting daily for pride! I might have become obsessed with this pairing. It’s a real problem. 😅 So here is my first chaptered fic for them and I have another delicious one on the horizon that’s gonna be a bigger project.

batten down the hatches, this storm's gonna leave us battered and bruised

-

The nightmares don’t start for a few days. Personally, Jean thinks it’s the bone deep exhaustion they’re all still feeling. After the end of the Rumbling, they’d helped build camp at the hangar and most of them had slept for at least sixteen hours. Jean remembers waking up to Reiner still clinging to him in his sleep, snoring softly in his ear. He’d wanted to live in that moment for as long as possible, but it had only been about thirty seconds before his stomach had growled and refused to let him rest.

It had taken a couple of days to get themselves even remotely organized and prepared for the thankfully short journey to the closest town. It had been mostly abandoned, those too stubborn still clinging to their homes, and everyone had finally been able to truly rest. After a decent meal made from food that hadn’t yet spoiled, Jean had ridden Reiner into the mattress of the house they were occupying and passed out not long after. For another day, things were okay.

Tonight’s different. Jean’s had a feeling of unease all day that he’s been trying his damnedest to ignore, but it hangs like a cloud over his head. And he’s not alone. Reiner gives him a sad smile when he brings it up, nodding, and says maybe the present circumstances are finally catching up with them. He doesn’t know what to say to that and so he drinks. There’s some white wine that he pours heavily into coffee mugs and he forces Reiner to drink it with him.

“I think I’m done.” Reiner declares, pushing the mug across the table. Jean shrugs and pours the rest of the bottle into his own cup. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Never been better. Survived the end of the world, didn’t we?” Jean smiles bitterly. He can name a dozen others who deserved the chance more than he did.

[xtarmanderx]

🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭

Hello this was so fucking good??? I have been missing out on fandom stuff lately, but 30sat ALWAYS knows how to hit me in my feelings.

The Speed of the Sound of Loneliness

****

Buck ran his hands over his jacket, trying to smooth out the wrinkles. He hadn't worn his dress uniform since Bobby's funeral, and it felt all wrong, the collar too tight, the fabric heavy against his skin.

He tried to pay attention to what the chief was saying as he watched Chimney on the stage. Maddie sat next to Buck, beaming with pride. Buck swallowed down the lump in his throat. He was happy for Chimney and knew he would make a good captain, but it felt wrong. Bobby should still be here, should still be their captain.

"In closing, I want to say that it is my great honor to bestow the rank of Fire Captain to Howard Han. I know that you will command this station with discipline, integrity, and honor. Congratulations, Captain Han," Chief Simpson said as he shook Chimney's hand.

The station broke into applause, and official pictures were taken of Chimney. The crowd began to disperse as the celebration shifted into full swing. Buck felt lost.

Bobby's presence was so ingrained in every part of the 118 that even months after his death, it still felt wrong. Buck's grief came in waves. There were times when he almost felt okay, almost felt happy, and then there were the times when he felt like he was still in that tunnel, absolutely helpless.

Buck bit his lip and walked toward the buffet table. He was halfway there when his eyes caught on a familiar face across the room. It made sense. Of course, Tommy was here. Tommy belonged here. Tommy, who was so loyal and so kind, Tommy, who had shown up for the 118 time and time again. Of course, Tommy would be here for Chimney.

A wistfulness settled in Buck's chest as he watched the man he wished he deserved, knowing that he wasn't entitled to something so real and beautiful. Tommy had tried to reach out after Bobby's death, but Buck couldn't let him in. He was too broken. He couldn't bring Tommy down with him. Tommy had already sacrificed so much.

Buck filled his plate, knowing that this was one of those days where the food would probably taste like sawdust, and looked around for a table. Maddie was sitting with Chimney and the kids, caught up in the happiness of the moment. Athena was at the next table, smiling at May and Ravi snuggled up together. Eddie and the Wilsons were sitting together, Eddie's arm slung around his new girlfriend, a lab assistant who worked with Karen.

Buck knew he could sit at any of those tables, but it didn't feel right. So he found an empty table in the corner and sat down, trying to keep something that resembled a smile on his face while picking at his food without really tasting it.

It wasn't long before someone slid into the seat beside him, and Buck sighed, mentally preparing for idle small talk and pitying looks.

But when he looked up, he saw kind eyes and a tentative smile. "Thought you might want some cake," Tommy said, gesturing to the piece he had placed in front of Buck. "Unless you're still doing keto?"

"No, uh, no keto. Thanks," Buck answered.

"So, uh, is it okay that I came over here, or did you want some space? I just haven't seen you since the funeral, and you just seem so..." Tommy began.

Buck's brain filled in the words: weak...pathetic...damaged...

"Lonely," Tommy finished softly.

Buck's eyes filled with tears. Lonely. He was so lonely.

"Yeah," Buck choked out. "Yeah, I am."

Tommy squeezed his hand gently.

"Tommy, I am so sorry. For everything."

"Hey...we don't need to talk about that, but I want to be here for you. Whatever you need. I can be a shoulder to cry on or a place to vent, or just a friend to watch a movie with. But Evan, you don't have to feel alone. Let me take care of you," Tommy said.

"I don't want you to feel obligated. I'm a mess, Tommy. I haven't processed anything. I'm living inside this ball of trauma. I...I'm not a good time right now," Buck said.

"I don't need you to be a good time. I need you to be safe and cared for and...loved," Tommy said softly.

"Loved?" Buck asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"Yeah...is that okay?" Tommy replied.

Buck nodded, tears spilling over. "Better than fake mouth static," Buck said with a watery smile.

Tommy laughed quietly and pulled Buck into his strong arms.

Buck didn't know what the future would hold, but Tommy cared about him...Tommy loved him. And in that moment, wrapped up in Tommy's arms, being held like he was something precious that needed protecting, that was all that mattered.

[xtarmanderx]

This truly felt like getting a warm hug. Jamie once again proving she’s one of the best writers in the fandom. ❤️❤️❤️

A fluffy blanket for BuckTommy, please!

Ouu I was excited about this one! So here you go @lightfiretomypaperwings 800+ words of a fluffy blanket with BuckTommy! Prompts can be found here. 🧣- A fluffy blanket

🧣🧣🧣🧣🧣

The L.A streetlights blurred as Buck drove home, exhaustion weighing on him like a physical thing. Every red light an opportunity for his mind to wander back to that morning—to Tommy's sleepy smile and the warmth of his body.

"Morning," Tommy had murmured, voice still thick with sleep. "What time is it?"

"Too early," Buck had replied, pressing his forehead against Tommy's. "You sure you have to go today?"

Tommy had sighed, his breath warm against Buck's lips. "Texas needs all hands on deck for these wildfires. You know I have to."

They'd stayed tangled together for a few more precious minutes before reluctantly rising. Tommy had made coffee while Buck prepared breakfast—simple scrambled eggs and toast, but it felt like so much more with Tommy's arms occasionally wrapping around his waist from behind, chin resting on Buck's shoulder.

"I'll call when I land," Tommy had promised as they stood by the door, his duffel bag at his feet. "And every night, no matter how late."

"You better," Buck had said, trying to keep his voice light despite the heaviness in his chest. Their goodbye kiss had been desperate, both of them trying to memorize the feel of each other.

Now, pulling into his driveway, Buck felt the emptiness waiting for him upstairs. Since Bobby's funeral, they hadn't spent a night apart. Tommy's presence had kept the nightmares at bay—the ones where Buck relived losing Bobby over and over. How was he supposed to sleep alone tonight?

The apartment was dark and quiet when he entered. He didn't bother with lights or food, just dropped his keys and headed straight for the bedroom, too exhausted to do anything but collapse.

That's when he saw it—a box sitting in the center of his bed. Frowning, Buck flipped on the light and approached it cautiously. The box wasn't wrapped, just a simple cardboard box with the lid closed. He lifted it to find something wrapped in white tissue paper with a folded note placed on top.

His heart quickened as he opened the note, immediately recognizing Tommy's handwriting: "To keep the nightmares away until you're back in my arms. - Tommy"

Buck's fingers trembled slightly as he peeled back the tissue paper. The familiar blue and gray fabric made his throat tighten. It was the soft and fluffy oversized blanket that usually draped across Tommy's couch—the one Buck always gravitated toward during movie nights, the one Tommy would wrap around them both on cool evenings.

As he lifted it from the box, Tommy's scent enveloped him—that unique combination of leather and black cherries cologne and something inherently Tommy. Buck buried his face in the fabric, breathing deeply, and for the first time since watching Tommy walk through the airport security gate, the knot in his chest loosened just a little. Buck clutched the blanket to his chest, overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of the gift. Leave it to Tommy to know exactly what he needed before he even realized it himself.

With a deep sigh, he set the blanket down and began peeling off his uniform, too tired to bother with his usual routine. His shirt hit the floor, followed by his pants, until he stood in just his boxers. The cool air of the house raised goosebumps across his skin.

He slid between the sheets, pulling Tommy's blanket over himself. It was almost like being wrapped in Tommy's embrace—almost, but not quite. Still, it was enough to make his eyelids grow heavy, the familiar scent lulling him toward sleep.

Just as he drifted toward unconsciousness, the sharp buzz of his phone jolted him back to awareness. The screen illuminated the darkened room, Tommy's smiling face appearing as the call came through.

"Hey," Buck answered, voice rough with almost-sleep. "I was just thinking about you."

"Were you now?" Tommy's voice was warm, though tinged with exhaustion. "Good thoughts, I hope."

"The best," Buck murmured, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. "Got your present."

"Yeah? What do you think?"

Buck smiled into the darkness. "I think you know me too well."

"Not possible," Tommy replied, and Buck could hear the smile in his voice. "How are you?" Buck asked quietly looking at the soot and exhaustion on Tommy's face. "We've been at it for 14 hrs and we've barely made a dent. I've got 6 hours before I have to get back out there." he paused. "It's... pretty bad out here, Evan."

Buck shifted onto his side, suddenly more alert. "How bad?"

"Three counties evacuated so far. The wind's not helping." Tommy paused, and Buck could hear voices in the background. "

"Be careful out there," Buck said, the familiar worry settling in his stomach. "I know you're a hotshot and all, but—"

"But you worry. I know." Tommy's voice softened. "I'll be careful. Promise."

"Good." Buck yawned, unable to fight his exhaustion any longer.

"You sound tired. I should let you sleep."

"No," Buck protested weakly. "Keep talking. Tell me about Texas."

Tommy chuckled. "Well, it's flat. And hot. And there's a guy at base camp wearing the biggest belt buckle I've ever seen in my life..."

Buck closed his eyes, letting Tommy's voice wash over him, a smile playing at his lips as he pictured everything being described. The distance between L.A. and Texas seemed to shrink with every word, and for now, that was enough. 🧣🧣🧣🧣🧣

[xtarmanderx]

This was so soft and beautiful! Everything I needed and more!

Some tender first-aid for Ruca, please!

It's been a minute since I've written any Ruca so here you go @lightfiretomypaperwings! Enjoy 1000+ words of tender first-aid with Ruca! Prompts can be found here. ⛑️- Tender First Aid ⛑️⛑️⛑️⛑️⛑️ Luca felt Rocker's hands glide across his skin, warm oil creating a slick path that seemed to chase away the dull ache that had plagued him all day. The sensation was unexpected—gentle yet firm, careful yet confident.

"You don't have to do this," Luca murmured into the pillow, though he made no move to stop him.

"Shut up and let me help you," Rocker replied, his voice softer than Luca had ever heard it. "I watched you take that fall today. You hit concrete from fifteen feet up."

Luca winced at the memory. The extraction had gone sideways, as they sometimes did. He'd misjudged his landing point and came down hard on the one part of his body that never quite healed right. The old injury from three years ago—the one that almost ended his career—flaring up like an unwelcome ghost.

Rocker's thumbs pressed into the muscle surrounding Luca's hip, finding knots of tension with uncanny accuracy. The oil warmed at first contact before gradually cooling, creating waves of alternating sensation that made Luca's breath catch.

"Where'd you learn this?" Luca asked, his voice slightly muffled.

"Had a girlfriend who was a massage therapist." Rocker's hands moved in slow, methodical circles. "Picked up a few things."

Luca closed his eyes, surrendering to the touch. Rocker's hands were calloused from years of weapons training, yet somehow they moved with surprising tenderness. His fingers traced the ragged scar that ran along Luca's hip, a souvenir from the surgery that had put him back together.

"You should have said something," Rocker said quietly, working his way down to Luca's thigh where the tension radiated. "We're a team. You don't have to pretend."

The room was dim, just the soft glow from the hallway light spilling in. Outside, they could hear the distant sounds of the game still playing on the television, forgotten. Luca felt exposed in more ways than one, but strangely, he didn't mind.

"Force of habit," Luca whispered. "Can't show weakness."

Rocker's hands paused for just a moment. "Not weakness. Just human."

The massage continued, Rocker's strong hands working magic on Luca's battered body. The pain began to recede like a tide pulling away from shore, replaced by a pleasant warmth that spread through his muscles. Luca couldn't remember the last time someone had touched him with such care, such attention to his comfort.

"Better?" Rocker asked, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room.

Luca nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Something had shifted between them—something neither man was ready to name but both could feel, hanging in the air like the scent of the massage oil, subtle yet unmistakably present.

Rocker let out a slow breath, his hands coming to rest lightly on Luca’s lower back, palms warm against the cooled oil-slick skin. The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words. Neither moved for a moment, caught in the weight of the quiet, of the intimacy that had crept in unnoticed.

Luca finally turned his head to the side, cheek resting against the pillow, gaze flicking toward Rocker. His voice, when he spoke, was rough-edged but quieter than before. “You… didn’t have to do all that.”

Rocker smiled faintly, one corner of his mouth lifting. “Didn’t want to stop.”

The admission hung there, soft and dangerous.

For a beat, neither of them moved, save for the rise and fall of Luca’s breath. Then, slowly, Rocker shifted, drawing his hands away, careful and deliberate, as if reluctant to break the contact entirely. His fingers skimmed up Luca’s spine one last time—a featherlight caress that sent a shiver through him.

“Turn over,” Rocker murmured.

Luca hesitated. His heart beat too fast, sudden and uncertain. But he obeyed, rolling gingerly onto his back, muscles languid from the massage. The sheet slipped low on his hips, leaving the planes of his torso bare to the cool air—and to Rocker’s gaze.

Rocker’s eyes flicked over him, steady and dark, and this time the touch wasn’t with hands but with the weight of that look—one that seemed to see more than skin and scar. His voice was low, almost reverent. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Luca swallowed. His throat felt dry. “So I’ve been told.”

The corner of Rocker’s mouth twitched again—half a smile, half something else entirely. He leaned in, moving slowly, giving Luca every chance to pull away. But Luca didn’t. Couldn’t.

The scent of the oil mixed with the faint musk of their bodies and the worn cotton of the sheets. Rocker was close enough now that Luca could feel the warmth of his breath against his lips—just barely there, a ghost of contact.

Luca’s breath hitched, instinct warring with need. His fingers curled into the fabric beneath him.

Rocker’s voice was a whisper now, meant only for him. “If you don’t want this… tell me.”

For a long, charged second, Luca said nothing. His eyes searched Rocker’s, finding no mockery there—only patience, and something deeper, softer.

“I don’t want you to stop,” Luca finally breathed.

That was all it took.

Rocker closed the space between them with aching slowness, his lips brushing Luca’s like a question—tentative, seeking. Luca tilted his chin, answering with a gentle press, their mouths meeting in a kiss that was far softer than either would’ve expected—no battle for dominance, no sharp edge. Just the careful exploration of something new, something fragile.

Rocker’s hand came to rest at Luca’s jaw, thumb brushing along the rough stubble, grounding them both in the moment. Luca’s fingers, uncertain at first, found Rocker’s wrist, holding him there.

The kiss deepened slightly, breath mingling, the warmth of it sinking into Luca’s bones. He felt the tension that had ruled him for so long begin to melt—an unfamiliar vulnerability he didn’t hate.

When they finally parted, barely an inch between them, neither spoke at first. Just breathing, just looking.

The space between them remained charged, but neither man moved to break the fragile closeness. Whatever this was—whatever it might become—it had been set in motion now, impossible to deny.

And for the first time in a long time, Luca found he didn’t want to. ⛑️⛑️⛑️⛑️⛑️

[xtarmanderx]

Day 9 of posting daily for the month of pride! I know I said I would finish this fic last week. Or maybe the week before. I am a lying liar who lies. But! I did push through and finish it and fix what I didn’t like what was giving me grief. Enjoy!

rewriting our history to bring me back home

-

“Joker, send the shuttle to pick us up.” Shepard begins, taking a deep breath. “I’ve had enough of this colony.” He doesn’t miss the way Kaidan flinches as he walks away. Good. He hopes the man is hurting just a fraction as much as he is right now.

“About that…” Joker begins, sounding nervous. “We’re grounded for a couple of days.”

Shepard’s eye twitches. “What?” He asks, struggling to maintain a neutral tone. “How the hell are we grounded?” He demands, trying to keep his voice low. But Kaidan still stops a few feet away, head turning slightly back in his direction. Gritting his teeth, Shepard tries to ignore the man who just finished breaking his heart.

“Fight with their ship got ugly and some debris hit us. Mostly surface level stuff, but we should patch it here before we attempt any deep space flights. So. Grounded.” Joker explains.

“This day just keeps getting better and better.” Shepard mutters. “All right.” Shepard takes a deep breath and turns to face Garrus and Jack, the two he had hand picked to help him with this mission. “You two can head back to the ship if you’d like. Consider this a mini vacation for the next two days.”

“Sweet.” Jack says, already walking away. “Later.” She flicks her hand up in a wave, biotic blue pulsing around her fingertips, and Shepard massages his temples.

“Jack, do not fight the colonists!” He barks after her.

[xtarmanderx]

Day 8 of posting a fic daily for the month of pride! Here is the conclusion to my Attack on Titan piece that I published the other day. I am dying to write more for this pairing, especially as one shots that follow this fic post-Rumbling, so let me know if you’re interested at all!

we’re syncing back up at the end of the world

-

Reiner’s blood is still roaring in his ears as he looks around the battlefield, his hands trembling in the aftermath. They did it. They defeated The Rumbling. He’s got no clue how many are dead, how many nations have fallen to ruin, but he doesn’t give a damn about them. Somewhere between reuniting with his mother and checking in on Pieck, Annie, and the kids he’s lost sight of Jean. There are a dozen people he has to gently push past before he catches sight of the stupid man that he loves.

That thought slams into him and brings him to a grinding halt, his pulse thundering against his rib cage as he stares across the field. For a split second, he thinks he could disappear into the small crowd and then walk away. He could keep walking, fade into a speck in the desert, and no one would be any wiser. But then Jean turns, their gazes lock, and Reiner puts one foot in front of the other again. They collide somewhere in the middle, gripping at each other with shaky laughs of disbelief. They’ve survived. More than that, Reiner’s curse has been lifted. For the first time in his life, he’s free.

“Jean,” he gasps wetly against the other man’s throat.

“I know.” Jean’s knuckles are points of pain along Reiner’s spine and he presses closer against him, shivering.

“I need you.” He whispers against the underside of Jean’s jaw.

“Fuck.” Jean presses their foreheads together roughly and Reiner feels the deep breath reverberate through his chest. “Yeah. Yeah, we can find a spot.”

They stumble away from the group that’s celebrating and grieving in tandem, finding their way across the airfield. The hangars are in bad shape, torn apart from when everyone became Titans, and Reiner shudders from the reminder. But Jean drags him into the central control building and pushes him up against the wall and every thought falls away. Trembling fingers grip at his shoulders, dragging him forward as their mouths collide in a harsh press of lips and teeth. Jean wastes no time wedging his leg between Reiner’s thighs as he fucks his tongue eagerly into Reiner’s mouth.