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dorimena · 3 years

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𝕷𝖆𝖈𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕮𝖆𝖐𝖊

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; bakugou katsuki

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 1.4k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; fem!reader, lingerie, sex toy (vibrating butt plug), implied edging, implied overstimulation, pegging, mommy kink, dacryphilia, dom!reader, sub!reader

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; garterbelt, dry orgasms, didn’t know lima bean respect day existed, if you haven't realized i refer to reader's dick as cock whether flesh or silicone, implied aftercare, aged up character, Bakugou is in his 20s

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; late gift for the birthday boy who i haven’t written anything about until now. It was supposed to come out as a small fic, but University kept getting in the way and I’ve fallen behind with some pendant writings. Guess this is my first headcanon thing. Not proofread!

April 20th could mean anything for a lot of people:

In the US, it’s National Pineapple Upside Down Cake Day.

Also in the US, it’s National Lima Bean Respect Day.

Internationally, for the weed lovers, it’s 420 Day.

But April 20th simply means it’s your boyfriend’s birthday.

Bakugou had been hinting about wanting a small surprise for a while, whether big or small

And by hinting, I mean downright telling you every breakfast, lunch and dinner spent possible throughout March that he wants something from you, but doesn’t want to know what

If you were Mina, you would’ve thrown a party at some lowkey club and hired one of the best DJs in the city, if not the country

If you were Kirishima, you would’ve taken him hiking to a new mountain someplace else in Japan + a weekend glamping getaway

If you were Sero, you would’ve gone to do something relaxing, maybe a spa? Aerial yoga? Definitely not to just see his ass in some yoga pants

If you were Kaminari-

Well, that’s actually an interesting thought… What would you have done if you were Kaminari?

Bakugou wearing a black, see-through thong, the most sensual looking lace garterbelt you could find in his size and a pretty black bow sitting on his ass is what you managed to come up with

Sure. At first he was ready to fight, but then he remembered who you were so obedient baby boy mode was activated without any more fuss. That, and his fucking fantasies.

He’s also been fantasizing for the past few weeks leading up to his birthday about how you’d probably ride him. Maybe fuck him? He doesn’t care, just wants to be babied and loved and fucked good until he passes out to wake up a week later.

Maybe not, he still has work to do

Another reason he put up with this is because, y’know, you tend to be nicer on special days so-

Bakugou wearing a garterbelt makes you feel so many levels of horny in a span of 30 seconds once you see it on him. It accentuates his already envious waist line even more. God, you can’t wait to see him bent over and ass up.

So you tell him gently to do so from where you’re sitting, and he does it so prettily.

Reminds you of a graceful cat, the way he turns around on the bed, chest already down onto the bed sheets as he pulls his torso as close to his knees as possible. Juicy ass is as high as it could be and wow, the thong doesn’t do a good work at hiding the glimmer of the diamond butt plug.

Pity it didn’t come in any other color than white, but it came with the lingerie.

You didn’t even warn him when you turn the butt plug on.

The promised low setting already sounding pretty loud, his small huffs indicating it’s not as overwhelming yet.

Good.

But by now, you’ve left it on for a good while, watching as he tries not to lose his balance or shuffle too much to ‘lose the appeal’.

He’s cursing at you in airy moans, vermillion eyes glaring at you. Why are you teasing him? You’re meant to be nice.

It’s his fucking birthday

You’d punish him for his impatience, but you already punished him the day before.

You don’t want him not being fucked in the ass so you turn the vibrator up to the last setting, smiling sweetly as he curses even louder

This is still punishing but nice, right?

He seems to agree

His arms are restless, moving from staying beside him to moving above his head to grip at the sheets.

His hands also go to grab his ass and pull the cheeks apart to show you how he’s clenching desperately around the toy, whining about how he needs you right now, to stop fucking around and get your big ass cock in him or else-

But that “or else” doesn’t really get finished, not with you startling him with your speed and sight of the ribbons.

His arms are tied now, forcing him to keep spreading his ass, to keep showing himself off.

This has him burying his face into the bed, hiding how red he’s gotten from embarrassment.

You don’t allow that, so you press your hand onto the plug to push it in deeper.

He yells out your name, body jolting as the toy relentlessly messes with his prostate while your other hand curiously goes to touch the front.

The thong is absolutely soaked and sticky, and when you move your fingers against the fabric to feel just how sticky it is, Bakugou tries humping them, well, really just trying to rub his dick against your fingers because wow the stimulation of the fabric is n i c e.

But you’re not having it just yet, you wanna appreciate his perfect posture a bit more.

Reminder: the butt plug is already at its highest setting.

So the next best thing you can do is smack his ass because your baby loves that, loves how you leave compliments and praise for how it jiggles and gets a pretty red. He does it for you, after all, makes sure it’s always at its best presentation.

But he’ll never tell you shit because then you’ll tease him and embarrass him in front of his friends.

So a few slaps in, being careful with his hands, all followed by cooing at how it moves, how it blushes, how it’s now matching his face and probably dick too, has him trying to fuck back into the vibrator, but he’s humping absolutely nothing and growing more and more desperate and horny.

You back away from the bed, going for your camera to take another pic for your growing collection.

On the bed lies Bakugou Katsuki, all tied up, lingerie getting sticky with precum, the laciest garterbelt you’ve ever seen decorating his waist while he’s panting heavily, ass in the air, face completely red and wet, whether it be his sweat or tears.

He’s holding his ass apart to show you the vibrating diamond butt plug that’s been stuck in the highest setting, buzzing away as he’s whimpering your name, hiccuping “mommy, mommy, mommy” as he pleads for mercy, wiggling his ass as he tries luring you back to his body.

“M-mommy! Hnnnm tuh-touch me! Plea-ease? Please~”

Hey, aren’t you supposed to be nice? Eh...

He can’t come alone from the vibrating butt plug, never has been able to before, and if his rocking hips don’t indicate how much he wants to either fuck the bed or have your hand on it, you just ignore it.

Let’s see if tonight he’ll be able to cum hands-free for once. And make sure he cries more and more everytime he gets to cum from your cock and only because of your cock.

Basically that’s your birthday gift. Fuck him good until he either forgets his name, he's a babbling, crying mess, he's completely milked, or all of the above.

After hours of being edged by the toy he finally came, but in thin, small amounts, so you had to fuck out a few more rounds and cum out of him before he passed out.

In all honesty, he begged you to fuck him until he passed out. He had been fantasizing about it, after all.

After you both had your final orgasm of the night, rather early morning, he’s in tears, body trembling through the last tremors of his 2nd dry orgasm out of what? 7 orgasms? The copious amount of cum he’s managed to get milked out of him drying everywhere on his body, drool wetting the bed sheets even more than they were, room smelling like caramel, asshole fluttering around nothing and dick twitching as if wanting more.

Bakugou’s speaking gibberish at this point, the only coherent words leaving his dumb mouth being “mommy”, “more” or your name as he slowly succumbs to his exhaustion.

You give him your premium grade A aftercare during the little time he remained conscious and took care of everything else as he slept.

Next day, you cook breakfast, even if he grumbled about the taste or appearance.

He’s a good boy, he’s not gonna yell at you or be ungrateful with anything and everything you do, considering you put up with his anger. I mean, he gives his opinions, insights, inquiries through loving shouts of disapproval and approval.

All in all, he liked his birthday, but told you he kind of expected you to throw a party and had mentally prepared himself

Goddamn it. Guess next year you’ll call Mina for some help

#bnha smut #mha smut #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki smut #sub bakugou #sub bnha #ლ; blasphemy #𝖇𝖆𝖐𝖚𝖌𝖔𝖚

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honeyhenry · 3 years

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Captain Confusion

A/N: Inspired by this video that makes me weep with its cuteness! I just had to write this okay 🥺🥺🥺 This is in the same universe as Homeward Bound, which happens after this story. Feel free to give it a read after this, if you haven’t already! ALSO should note that the lovely @ohmygoodie is my Sy partner in crime and without them this fic would not be made possible :)

Warning: mention of operations/hospitals, and a whole lot of fluff!

It was a simple procedure and so it hadn't worried you too much, other than the usual fears when a loved one is under the knife while in the hands of trained doctors. Sy’s hernia had been authorised for operation only five minutes into the doctor’s appointment you had all but dragged him to, and scheduled for 4 days later. Not really much time to prepare mentally, but you knew it was necessary with your big bear of a man in pain. Despite the painkillers prescribed, he was walking with a limp and groaning in bed for all the wrong reasons.

In the waiting room, you and his Ma kept busy during the 45 minute wait by looking through magazines, talking about how the Captain’s quality of life will improve, and what kind of minor jobs you’ll have him do around the house while he’s recovering as you continue to work.

“I hope the recovery isn’t as long as some people have said. I know for a fact he’ll not want to be cooped up all day. If he’s anything, he’s stubborn” you sigh, knowingly.

Ma smiles, looking at you pointedly, knowing that she is in the presence of the only other soul who knows what is best for her son. “He knows better now that his health is his wealth. He’s got a lot more riding on being well now. After all, it’s not just him he’s gotta be there for anymore.”

“Yeah, I mean I always tell him, he’s not 25 anymore. Or even 30. I’ll need you to back me up, he does anything you say. I’m his equal, you’re his Mom.”

You both laugh a little, hers warm and kind, while yours tinges with the remaining hopeful nerves of an army Captain’s wife. You don’t like not knowing about your Sy, especially since you spent all those years apart, not knowing if he was safe, or even alive. The waiting, in any capacity, is the hardest part.

You’re flipping through a random tabloid magazine, when the surgeon in charge walks through to the waiting room.

“Everything went really well with Captain Syverson. He’s coming to from the anaesthetic and asking for his Ma?”

Ma grins before sucking her teeth between her lips watching as your mouth drops. You both move from the waiting area to follow the surgeon towards where your husband is resting. You speak under your breath, only wanting Sy’s Ma to hear you; “I hope he still remembers how to grovel after this.”

Ma enters the room with you following her, arriving only a couple more corridors along from where you’d last seen him earlier that morning. He may not have asked for you but you were going to see Sy whether he wanted it or not. A grand push of the door allows it to swing open, and suddenly there he is. A little disoriented but has a large dopey smile plastered on his face as soon as he sees his Ma. His heavy head lolls to one side as he rests it on the plush hospital pillow.

“Hey Ma” he groans out as she bends over her large son to give his forehead a kiss, taking his hand in hers. He spends a moment just gazing at her for a while, the love he has for her evident on his face, as she tells him that everything went well, and that he can go home tomorrow.

It’s only after this tender mother and son moment, that he notices you.

“Ma.... why ya bringing a beautiful girl here when I’m like this...oh god I’m not wearing underwear Ma!”

His feeble attempt at trying to cover himself means that you actually end up seeing far more of him than you expected. Nothing you hadn’t seen before, but it definitely hasn't happened in front of his own mother before. The whole situation makes you blush and giggle a little as you try your best to avoid eye contact with Ma. You can only imagine the look on her face, and you don’t want to get any more involved with Sy’s naked form than you need to right now.

Rather than put you and your poor Sy through any further embarrassment, Ma speaks up.

“Oh darlin’, this is y/n. You remember her, right?”

And while he’s listening - or at least pretending to listen to his Ma fussing over him again - he’s just staring at you, gazing in awe as if you were the one to hang the stars in the sky.

“You are.... so pretty” he slurs, making you break out a genuine smile that he mirrors, glad that he was the one to make you look even more pretty.

“Well thanks handsome. How do you feel?” you perch on the edge of the bed and hold his hand. To him, the gesture feels warm and inviting - even if he doesn't know you, he recognises something about you in the comfort that you bring.

“Feel like shit. Oh fuck i said ‘shit’ in front of the lady” he whines again, scrunching his eyes closed as hangs his head in shame. It looks like he might even cry with the realisation that he’s made such a foolish impression of himself. It takes Ma shushing him and making him take a sip of juice from his bedside to calm down, dabbing his face with a cloth when his juice spills from his mouth.

“Oh Logan Daniel Syverson...what did they do to ya?” she lightly scolds as she helps clean up the mess he’s unknowingly created around him. That’s your Sy, a hurricane of mess that somehow fits into order just how he likes it.

You giggle a little more at his shameful expression, before he refocuses, giving you his undivided attention once more.

“How is it that ya know my Ma and we’ve never met? Or have we? ‘Cause I think i’d remember a face like yours”

“Well...” you start, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear to let him see your entire face, hoping it would jog his memory. As you do so, the ring on your fourth finger glints in the hospital light, and for the first time since you've entered the room, he’s noticed.

“Oh...man...knew a girl like you would be snatched up already. Whoever has the honour of being yours is a very lucky man.” He smiles softly, a wistful look in his eye, while makes you realise that you can’t wait for the drugs to leave his system, you have to remind him who you are and who he is, right this very moment.

“Sy honey... we’re married. You’re my husband, and I’m your wife. I think the drugs are making you more than a bit loopy.”

It’s his turn for his jaw to drop, his eyes are unblinking as he takes in what you’ve just said. He turns sharply - more than his doctor would have probably liked - to his Ma, and then back to you, and then his Ma again, waiting for one of you to burst out laughing at the prank you surely must be playing on him.

“Wha-? A wife? I have a wife?” you nod and he exhales a deep breath of air in amazement.

“YOU’RE my wife? Really?” you nod again and Ma smiles at you as she watches the scene of Logan meeting you all over again.

“Am I still in the army? I’m a Captain ya know”

“You left just a few months ago. You still work in the local camps, of course. You like it there, and you’re home every night and most weekends.”

“Does Ma like you?” You don’t even get a chance to finish as he turns to his mother “Do you like her? is she nice? Does she like your new kitchen? I built it y’know.”

You knew when you met, dated, and married him, that Sy was a Momma’s boy. He loves his mother so much, that her opinion will always mean the world to him.

Ma nods “You two are the sweetest couple. She’s the best addition to the family, gives you a run for your money alright. She’s my new favourite.” You get a soft hug from her as she says this, with her wrapping her arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. She’s always felt so grateful that her Logan found you, because my goodness did he love you ferociously, and he needed you in his life. You were the making of him, and the whole Syverson clan will forever be grateful to you for it.

"And where did we get married? If we really are married.” He continues his line of questioning.

“At the ranch, on your family’s land. it was such a special day. We had the reception there too. And we went to Italy for our honeymoon.”

Sy is basking in every word you say, praying it to be true, as if he could will it into existence if it hadn’t already happened, wanting badly to remember sunset kisses and italian food and beach days all spent with you. He perks up at the last thing you say, taken by complete surprise.

“Honeymoon?! Oh my god have we...ya know..?” A blush fades over Sy’s face, and even though you love his Ma, you really wish she wasn’t finding out so many details about your personal life today, like how your son rails you on the regular in many ways, and in many places. He must somehow remember or at least accurately imagine your past endeavours, as he grins like a little shit.

You smack his arm, lightly but with a firm hand.

“Be quiet, or the whole ward will know about our sex life” you threaten. “Yes we’ve had sex. i’d hope so given that we have a kid on the way.”

If Ma had had to deal with her son getting horny over his “new”wife, she was being fully compensated for it as she witnessed him fall head over heels in love with you, all over again.

“A kid?...Tell me ya not messing with me...are we really- I-” he swallows and his tears come even easier than before “We’re havin’ a baby?” With the sudden realisation, he turns to his Ma. “This beautiful woman right here’s havin’ my kid, Ma?” He looks between the two of you again, watching as you both nod and beam from ear to ear.

“You know you cried just as much when i told you for the first time too. i promise when the drugs are out your system it’ll all make sense again.”

Sy smiles, clutching your hand in his warm palm, almost scared to let go as the door is knocked and he feels you might be taken away. Instead, it’s a welcome visitor.

“Hey doc,” Sy greets the man who reenters the room, now freshly out of scrubs to visit his patient - who if anything is now simply love sick, no hernia to be found. “This is my wife, and she’s having a baby.” he looks back to you with a quirk of his eyebrow “My baby?” You roll your eyes and he confirms it; “my baby.”

“Oh, congratulations...again.”

The doctor’s evaluation and explanations don’t take long, and while Sy is being informed, you start rubbing your belly as a form of self-comfort. You will need to remind your child that while their father looks incredibly stern and impossibly large, he is silly and goofy and already loves them with his entire being. Over the course of the afternoon, Sy talks with you while the anaesthetic wears off. It turns out they had given him a pretty high dosage based on his height and muscle mass, so he would be out of action for a couple of hours at least.

“Oh, i have your ring” you pipe up before he starts getting too sleepy again, taking the thick gold band off of the necklace around your neck, placing it on his finger carefully.

“That feels better already” he sighs, as he begins to doze in and out of consciousness. Before he closes his eyes once more to rest peacefully, a small tear slides down his cheek, which you of course, notice. Sy has cried maybe 5 times in the time you’ve known him and three of those times have been in this very room.

“Honey what’s wrong? Are you in pain? i can call the doctor-”

“No i’m fine i’m fine i just-” he sniffs and tries to clear his throat from the sad, heavy pain he feels in his chest. “I’m gonna be real sad when I wake up from this dream. What if I can’t find you when I wake up?”

Oh your sweet, silly man.

“Bear it’s not a dream, I’ll be right here when you get up properly and we can go home and cuddle and I’ll heat up your favourite meal. I’ll be right there with you.”

“And the baby?” he asks, eyes wide. almost nervous to ask.

“Well they have to come too, they're with me. We can look at their pictures again so you can get reacquainted. And Aika will be so happy you’re back. We’ve been gone the whole day.”

“Aika!” your husband perks up, “Oh Aika, man....I love that dog..”

“I know you do bear, you just get some rest for now and then we can go home.”

Before you know it, he’s fallen back to sleep, his mouth wide open as he slumps against his pillow, completely out of it.

It’s dark outside when Sy opens his eyes again, watching as his Ma passes you a small herbal tea in the dimly lit hospital room. Technically visiting hours are over, but no one was going to argue with the Captain’s family. You smile, and he feels like he can finally relax, in your presence

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” he growls lowly, and you look up at him from your phone, beaming in surprise, glad that your husband had woken up feeling a bit more like himself.

“Oh hello again” you smile and squeeze his hand, his slow blinking already indicating a much clearer mind, and that he knows exactly who you are.

“Again? What’d I miss?”

“The drugs” he stops you mid-sentence for a sweet kiss, acting as though a minute more without your lips would be the source of his downfall. “Mmmh, the drugs made you so loopy, it was the sweetest thing, Sy.” You grin as he pulls you up beside him on the bed.

He raises his eyebrows, clearly with no recollection of any of the past events. Yet still, he smiles.

“Yeah? How’s baby?” he holds you close to his side, wrapping an arm around your waist so he can cover your tummy with his palm.

“They’re great. Glad to have daddy back and sane.”

You swear that as you say that, he starts tearing up again, this time however he doesn’t let them fall. He was openly weeping earlier, but you won’t tell him that. Not yet.

“Damnit. Must be something in these drugs they got me on.”

“Mm-hmm sure bear.”

You stay close that evening, both curled up on a hospital bed that is already quite a tight fit for your husband alone. But as always, he makes it work. You’re half on top of him, both of you fast asleep, when the nurses come to do their rounds. Ma had left just after he had woken up, sneaking off into the night to let the rest of the family know how her most middle son is keeping after the operation. You’d cuddled and doted on each other until you’d fallen asleep, Sy following not long after as he bid goodnight to you and your precious cargo with a soft kiss to your lips, and protective rub of your stomach.

He counts himself more than lucky to have something so good, that it would pain him to forget. He was living the life that he’d been too scared to ever dream of, and he couldn’t be more grateful.

taglist: @ohmygoodie @michelehansel @la-cey @palaiasaurus64 @sassy-pelican @brandycranby

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#captain syverson x reader #captain syverson #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill #henry cavill characters #dad!syverson #dad!sy #cavillary #my writing #syverson x reader

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strititty · 2 years

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it’s FREE DAY and while i seem to have misplaced my ability to write (pensive emoji) i do have some wips i can post snippets of, so here! have half a fic that is based on my demonstuck series. it’s a non canon splinter where david is more of an asshole than expected and dave bears the brunt of it. noncon ahead, beware all ye who enter here. there’s not like. Full Sex because it’s not finished, but i feel it probably warrants that nsfw tag

==>

His hands are hot and insistent, unrelenting even as you push at him and try to squirm your way out of this goddamn mess of a situation. You don’t even know how you got here--you only know that he, the you-not-you, must fucking hate you. When he talks he sounds like you, for the most part, except when the cruelty shines through and you wonder if you’ve ever sounded like that.

“Get the fuck off,” you snap, but he doesn’t.

Despite your kicking, David - and yeah, you really have to call him that, don’t you - doesn’t get the fuck off. His shitty smile suggests that you’re hilarious for even trying to bring that option to the table. It’s insufferable, because he doesn’t even hurt you when you’re trying your damnedest to throw him.

“Nah,” he tells you, all amused. “This is free real estate, dude. I like my odds here. Thinking of takin’ up residence, makin’ myself of a good ole fashioned home. Not like you’ve got a whole lot else goin’ on.”

He kisses just on the side of your jaw and laughs softly when you swear at him, which. Kinda gay of you, but a breathy laugh near your ear makes you feel things you probably shouldn’t, which means you redouble your efforts and get absolutely nowhere.

“Can’t believe I’m modeled after something like you. You’re gonna grow up hot, jsyk,” how the fuck does he enunciate that, “but I guess I could call you cute and get away with it. Like Barbie doll cute, not Ken doll cute. Not that anyone actually thinks Ken is cute, cuz c’mon. Those plastic abs just don’t hold up.”

Part of you wants to engage in this conversation because it’s the sort of bullshit you love to riff off of, but most of you is panicking because he’s holding you down, he’s not letting you go, he’s nuzzling at your neck like baby’s sweetest prom date like ‘yes brad i’ll love you forever, i got my promise ring on and everything’. You try to whack him with your chin and he doesn’t even flinch. The sound you make when he starts kissing your throat could be most adequately described as a snarl.

“Don’t be like that, baby,” he says, so maybe Brad isn’t the best boyfriend so much as that skeezy eighteen year old worming his way into Jessica’s panties through peer pressure or whatever. It’s infuriating, and then it’s terrifying, because there’s too much weight on you and your arms are pinned on the bed and it reminds you of a dream you had once--

You bite his lip when he dips in for another one of those deceptively soft kisses and he isn’t angry. He laughs as a drip of hot blood lands on your face.

“Y’know, I’m gettin’ the feeling that you’re not really into this,” David says, as though you haven’t been making that explicitly clear with all your struggling and spitting.

“No shit he finally picks up on some social cues, give him a round of applause.” Your voice comes out caustic in a way that reminds you more of a certain angry friend you have than yourself, but you absolutely can’t think of him right now or you’re gonna be sick.

“I can change it up a little,” he continues, amused and faux-thoughtful. “Give it to you like your big bro likes it. I’m a flexible guy.”

You catch ‘big bro’ and you brain short-circuits because oh. Oh god in heaven (or satan in hell), this is your bro’s goddamn personal demon and they fucked. Of course they fucked. You knew that on some level as soon as you saw them in proximity, in the way they shoot the shit and the way they touch, but the bald confirmation of it punches you in the gut.

Not just the confirmation, but the idea that any version of you - anyone that looks even a little bit like you - anyone at fucking all - could do this to him? Hold him down? Fuck him up? Pull him apart?

What would that even look like?

You don’t realize you’ve gone slack until David laughs again, and it could almost be friendly. You know it isn’t, but if you shut your eyes you can imagine--you don’t know. You and Rose just hanging out. Stupid banter. Your own laugh when she catches you off guard.

But this is not that, and David looks you in the face with the cruel twist to his smile, even as his hand comes up to cradle your cheek.

“Maybe I’ll show you some time.”

When he kisses you again you’re mortified at how much of the fight has gone out of you. This isn’t how you were raised. Thinking about how you were raised only drags you deeper down the thought spiral, though, Bro’s imposing figure and the thought of it laid low. Laid bare. Your shoulders are shaking.

#demon next door #not canon #not safe sane or consensual #davecest #stridercestweeknsfw #lime writes

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dirtyoatmeall · 3 years

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All it takes is one moment (Atsumu x reader)

A/N: uhhh sorry for dropping off the face of the earth!! I have a million WIPs I’ll hopefully be posting here shortly! I was reading a bunch of cheesy hurt/comfort fics last night and decided to make my own hehe, tbh it got me thinking of doing another one but no comfort and it turning into a slow burn with another character :0 Please read the warnings, this is Post-Timeskip, so spoilers for occupations. Everyone is probably like 25ish here? Also I apologize in advance for their accents, I tried in a few spots, I’m still getting used to it. (also @spiritofthescarletwoods I know you wanted to be tagged in the midoriya angst I promised a million years ago, but here’s some tsumu angst for now!)

Genre: Hurt/comfort or Angst with a happy ending

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x reader (uhmm pronouns I believe are gn but I do not proof read as we all know)

Word Count: 4.?k

Warnings: Mentions of past abusive relationships, insinuation of cheating, slight misogynistic vibes for a moment, crude language, Atsumu is mean :( (Probably OOC Osamu and Atsumu), Post-time skip ((Let me know if I need to add something!)

You and Atsumu have been together for about 3 years now, and it was great. The two of you were very much in love, supported each other, and rarely fought, as you tried to be as open and communicate as much as possible. The last relationship you were in was toxic and abusive, it took a long time for you to be yourself again, and Atsumu had supported you along the way, he knew what had happened, and he swore to never make you feel like that again. And he stuck by that, until today.

Even though you rarely fought, when you did, it was resolved quickly, but this time was not the same. It had started off small. You had an important event coming up for work, you would be presenting on your year long research project, having made big findings in your field work. It was a huge deal for you, but when you brought it up at dinner, Atsumu did not have the same opinion.

“What do you mean you can’t make it? Everything I’ve been working on had led up to this, this is a career changing presentation, and you don’t want to go?” Hurt was clearly evident in your voice, as was frustration. Atsumu sighed, he’d had a horrible week, there was a big game coming up with the Adler’s and he needed to be prepared. “Like I said, I have practice that night, You can tell me all about it when you get home. I don’t see why you’re making a big fuss ‘bout it, ‘s just a presentation babe.” You furrowed your eyebrows looking at him incredulously.

“Did you not listen to anything I just said? It’s not just a presentation, this is my career Atsumu. I consistently put my own work aside to support you, why can’t you do the same for me? It’s not like I’m asking you to miss a game, it’s a practice.” You could tell he was getting frustrated, but so were you, you made it a point to make every single game of his, missing out on work opportunities to come support him, him refusing to come to something so important was hurtful, and made you feel like you were less important than him, but before you could voice your feelings Atsumu spoke.

“This isn’t jus’ any practice. We have a big game comin’ up, it's important I’m there, ‘m the setter. Let's be real here, we both know which of us is the bread-maker in this household. This is basically a little hobby of yours, you can come back to it at any time. I’m a professional athlete hun, there’s only so much time I have before retirement.” He spoke in a condescending manner that baffled you. He’s never spoken to you like that before, is that how he really felt about your work? You scoffed, rising from the dinner table.

“Are you fucking kidding me, do you know condescending and frankly, misogynistic that was?” He sighed and rolled his eyes as he followed you with his plate, dinner half eaten and cold much like yours. “Here you go again” He muttered, though loud enough for you to hear. You dropped your plate in the sink and you looked at him, eyes wide, and furious.

“What did you just say to me? Here I go again? What the fuck does that mean Atsumu?” He set his plate on the counter, looking at you from across the island as he gripped the countertop. “What I mean is that yer always playing the victim, we get it, you last relationship was shitty, but that doesn’t mean you have to act like this all the time, I thought you got over it?”

You balked at him, was he serious right now? “Oh my god really? Are you seriously asking me if I got over an abusive relationship, after everything I’ve told you about it? After everything I had to do to get where I am now? We are supposed to support each other, I didn’t realize it was one sided.” Atsumu sighed, growing more frustrated, he tried to interrupt you, but you kept going,

“All I wanted was for you to come to one dinner, after the years we’ve been together I haven’t asked you to miss any games or practices for my work, you know my coworkers have asked if I’m single? They didn’t believe me when I told them I was in a relationship, and you know what? I don’t blame them, I wouldn’t believe me either, since they’ve never seen you, and I take all this time off to travel and support you, all of your team know who I am, why is it so hard for you to do the same?”

As you kept going, his anger only grew, he tried interrupting you again, but it was like you weren’t paying attention to him, just spouting off whatever came to your head, and he was tired of it.

He slammed his hand on the counter, the sound reverberating throughout the apartment. You flinched, hard, but Atsumu didn’t seem to notice. “Can you just shut up for one moment? God, all you do is go on and on nagging on how what I do isn’t enough, I pay the bills here, why isn’t that enough for you? I could care less about what’s going on at your job, I have absolutely no interest in it at all, when will you get that through your fucking skull? I. don’t. care.” By the time he was done his knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping the counter, and you had tears in your eyes. You sucked in a breath, steeling yourself.

“Ok, I’m going to remove myself from the situation, I’ll be at your brothers, you can come get me when you pull your head out of your ass.” He rolled his eyes as you strode past him, getting your purse from the hook and going to slip on your shoes. “Yeah go ahead, you gonna wet his dick for ‘im too? ‘m sure he’ll love that.” You stiffened for a moment, putting your shoes on before looking at him, tears making your vision blurry.

“Y’know I tell myself that this isn’t like last time, that you’re not him, but at times like this-“ Your voice cracked as a sob bubbled into your throat and you shook your head, turning and heading out the door. Atsumu flinched at your words and the soft click of the door latching, he would’ve preferred to hear it slam.

Your walk to the elevator was blurry but you knew the way by heart after living there for so long. You wiped at your eyes as you pulled out your phone, tapping on the contact before bringing the phone to your ear. It rang once before it picked up, a tired “hello?” coming from the other end. You let out a quiet sob as you loaded the elevator, trying to get the words to come out. Upon hearing you, Osamu spoke again, “(Y/N)? Are you crying? What’s wrong.” You cleared your throat and took a deep breath before speaking, your voice tight. “Hey ‘samu, can, can I come to your place? ‘tsumu and I- we-'' you broke out into another sob, and you could hear Osamu close a door.

“Where are you? I’ll pick you up, I’m just leaving the restaurant I’m close.” After telling him where you were, you stayed on the phone, walking in the direction of the restaurant. Not long you see Osamu’s car pull up, he quickly gets out and looks you over and sighed as he brings you in for a hug. You sob into his jacket for a moment while he rubbed your back gently. He knew about your past as well, and figured it must have been bad for you to leave in tears. He leads you to the car and makes sure you’re strapped in before heading to the drivers side and getting in, double checking your seatbelt before driving towards his apartment.

The drive was short, though to you it felt like it lasted hours. You tried to quiet your sobs, not wanting to bother him. He looked over at you every so often, worry evident in his gaze as he tried to figure out just what his stupid brother did.

After arriving at his apartment, he sat you down on the couch, wrapping a blanket around you and giving you a box of tissues before sitting next to you, gently asking what happened. You try not to cry as you retell the events of the evening, though it got harder and harder as you told him what Atsumu said to you. By the time you were finished you were crying again, and Osamu was furious.

“I-I just don’t understand ‘samu, the things he said, did he really m-mean them? And-and when he slammed his hand on the counter, the look on his face, it, it was like I was back there all over again, like I never left. I-I know he’d never hurt me,” You sobbed out, throat getting tighter as you go on, “But at that moment, all I could think was that he was gonna hit me, and I, I had to leave, and what he said before I left,” You hiccupped and cried into your hands, not able to finish.

Osamu rubbed your back as you cried before getting up to make some tea. While the water was boiling he went into the other room, trying to calm himself down before calling his brother. The line rang three times before it was picked up, a frustrated “what do you want?” coming from the other end. It was enough to dwindle Osamu’s patience into nothing. He tried to keep his voice down, not wanting to distress you further.

“What do I want? Do you know how badly you fucked up? (Y/N) is here crying on my couch right now, do you know what she told me ‘tsumu? She told me she thought you were going to hit her. Are you fucking kidding me? Did you even think before you spoke, because from what she told me, it sounds like you didn’t. How dumb are you, after everything she’s gone through, the first big fight you have you send her running? Over a dinner? Really Atsumu?”

Atsumu groaned on the other line, “Exactly ‘samu, it’s a dinner, I have practice for the game against the Adler’s you know how big that is. She’ll have plenty of dinners for me to go to in the future. I don’t see why she got so upset over it. And she knows I didn’t mean the things I said, I was just frustrated.”

Osamu scoffed into the phone, “Did you even hear what I said, are you hearing yourself? She is the best thing that has happened to you, the least you could do is support her, this is a big deal for her Atsumu, even I know that. Honestly I don’t know why she is still with you after the shit you just pulled, did you hear me? She was scared of you, y’know like that last relationship she had? Where she was sent to the hospital multiple times, she thought she was right back there, that you were just like him. Do you know how bad you have to fuck up for that to happen, after all the counseling she’s done? You know how much trust you just broke? I wouldn’t be surprised if she never wanted to hear from you again, and I’d agree with her. God I have half a mind to tell Ma what you did, You need to sit and stew on what you just lost. And I mean it, I don’t want to see you here tonight, she needs a safe space right now. I’ll let her stay for as long as she wants, but I’m not gonna stop her if she leaves so you better get your fucking head on straight and get on your knees begging for forgiveness you don’t deserve.”

With that Osamu hung up the phone, exhaling as he pinched the bridge of his nose, was his brother really that stupid? He shook his head and headed out of his room, only to open the door to see you standing there, eyes holding an emotion he couldn’t quite place. “Is he coming?” Osamu sighed and led you back to the couch before finishing the tea he forgot about. He placed your cup on the end table next to you and took a seat with his own. “No, I told him to stay at your guy’s tonight. You need a safe space right now to calm down and sort your thoughts. You can stay here as long as you’d like, but I don’t want you to feel trapped, you can leave whenever, if you want to go to your folk’s, hell even our Ma’s place, I’ll drive you there. You just need to focus on you right now ya hear me? And if you don’t ever wanna see my ugly brother again, I’ll help you get a new identity.” You giggled slightly at the last part before you took a sip of your tea, shoulders relaxing. You turned to Osamu and smiled.

“Thank you ‘samu, I really appreciate it. I’m a little more calm right now, I think I’ll go home tomorrow, apologize and get us back on track.” You did a little nod as you said it, but Osamu just furrowed his eyebrows. “Apologize? There is nothing you need to apologize for doll, You were completely justified in your frustration, Atsumu is the one who needs to apologize, not you. Don’t settle just so things will go back to normal, because they won’t.” You sighed sadly, he was right and you knew it. You were falling back to old coping tactics. Your therapist would not be happy with you right now.

“Sorry, you’re right. I’m still gonna go back, hopefully after we’ve both had some sleep we can work it out.” You smiled again, feeling more like yourself. Osamu nodded in agreement and helped you set up in the guest bedroom before turning in. You sighed as you laid in the bed, not used to sleeping by yourself, but the events from the night took its toll, and it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

Back in your apartment, Atsumu was having the opposite problem. He laid in your shared bed, staring at the ceiling, did you actually think he was going to hit you, that he meant the things he said? To him, it didn’t seem like a big deal, he was loud when he was angry, and sometimes said things he didn’t mean, which should be obvious, since you knew how much he loved you…right? He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, looking up the museum you worked at. Honestly he wasn’t really paying attention when you told him about the event, he knew it had something to do with your research, which he knew a little about from the nights you’d info dump your findings to him. His eyes widened when he looked at the upcoming events, when he clicked on the date it was scheduled for he winced.

It really was a big deal, curators from all over the country were coming to hear you give a presentation on your recent fieldwork findings, you’d been at this site for the majority, if not all, of your relationship only now having a big discovery others spent their entire lives chasing. There were going to be donors, curators, archaeologists and other anthropologists from all over Japan and other countries as well. You were right, this was a career changer, no, this was a life changing presentation.

Guilt started to seep into his bones as he thought again about what he had said, how he had brushed you off and then got mad at you for voicing your feelings, something that took months for you to be able to do with him. He thought back to when he slammed his hand on the table, the way you flinched, the look in your eyes right before you left. His stomach felt like it dropped out of his body, chest constricting as the guilt flooded him as he kept thinking back to every expression you made, how you were crying when you left, that you were scared of him. He pushed his palms against his eyes as he groaned, how could he be so horrible to you? Osamu was right, about everything. You were the best thing that’s happened to him, and he broke your trust, trust that took so long to build, over missing a practice. He rolled onto his side, pulling one of your pillows against his chest. He inhaled, the scent of your conditioner still lingering, as he tried to think of how he could possibly make it right.

```

The next morning, after a relaxing shower and breakfast, you were ready. Osamu grabbed his keys, ready to drive you back, when there was a knock at the door. You had a feeling on who it was, so you set down your purse and went to sit on the couch, taking a deep breath. After a few moments Osamu came to the doorway, followed by Atsumu, who stood awkwardly for a moment before Osamu spoke to you.

“I need to be at the restaurant, there’s a key on the counter, if you could lock up if you leave that’d be great. Call me if you need anything.” He turned and left, and when you heard the door close you finally met Atsumu’s gaze, smiling slightly in greeting. Neither of you were sure what to say, but after a minute of silence he comes over and sits on the other end of the couch, obviously trying to gauge your reaction to his proximity.

You sighed through your nose, gaze turned to the floor as you fiddled with your hands, trying to sort out your thoughts. You wanted to just apologize and move on, but you knew you had to talk it out, this wasn’t something you could just pretend didn’t happen. You needed to work through this if you wanted this to work. You bit your lip, thoughts running a mile a minute. You were so deep in thought you didn’t realize Atsumu had moved until you felt his hand rest on your forearm. You jumped slightly, startled at the sudden touch and when you looked at Atsumu, who had moved to the place next to you and hovered his hand over you before bringing it back to his lap, guilt evident in his features, eyes raw with emotion.

“(Y/N), I don’t even know where to begin, I fucked everything up and I am so sorry. Sorry for not listening, for brushing you and your achievements off, for making you feel lesser and unimportant, for scaring you, please, you have to know, I would never lay a hand on you, I never meant a single thing I said last night, I was frustrated and let the week get to me, which is no excuse for the way I treated you. I broke your trust, and I’ll spend forever and a month trying to earn it back. You are without a doubt the best thing that has happened to me, and the way I treated you after everything that’s happened, it- it makes me sick. I love you so much, and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you. But I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore, I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want, I-I just- I need you to know that I love you, and that I never meant it, I’d never mean it.” His voice cracked at the end, and he wiped his eyes before looking up to meet your gaze. You were crying, biting your lip to keep it in but failing as you took a shuddering breath that turned into a half-sob. His heart broke even more seeing you like this, and he reached out to comfort you before stopping, hand curling back into his chest.

“Can, Can I touch you?” He asked shakily, scared of the answer, shoulders slumping with relief when you nodded and he quickly gathered you into his arms, pulling you into his lap and holding you tight, like if he let you go you’d disappear. You were crying louder now, hands fisted into his sweatshirt. He nuzzled his face into your hair, quietly apologizing over and over, tears starting to fall from his eyes as well, kissing the side of your head.

The two of you stayed like that for what seemed like hours, though in reality it was about 10 minutes. Your sobs had died down, you were just sniffing occasionally, and Atsumu’s eyes had cleared, no longer obstructed by the water wall of tears. He pulled you away from his chest slightly, cupping your cheeks, wiping at the tear tracks staining your face.

“’M sorry, ‘m so sorry. I’ll say it for the rest of my life darlin’, I love you so much and I am so proud of everything you do. I hope that one day you can forgive me, but I understand if you can’t, if you won’t. You mean th’ world t’ me angel, I want nothing more than for you to be happy, for you to feel safe and loved. I promise I will support you better from now on, no matter what. I’ll make good on my promises from all those years ago, I swear.” You nodded at his words, hands coming up to cup his own before one of his moved to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss, stopping right before your lips met, breath mixing as he looked at you for signs of hesitance, of fear.

“Is this okay?” Instead of verbally confirming you closed the short distance, hands gripping his shoulders as your lips moved against his slowly, taking time to enjoy each other. He pulled away after a few moments before kissing your forehead, hugging you tightly once again. “Let’s go home.” You said quietly into his shirt, squeezing his shoulders before standing on shaky legs. He nodded, getting up after you, lacing your fingers together.

Weeks later~~

You smiled nervously at Atsumu as you rose out of your chair, giving him a quick kiss before heading to the stage. You squinted briefly at the bright lights, exhaling and smoothing out your clothes before smiling at the audience as you introduced yourself. You tried to keep your gaze evenly over the crowd, but your eyes kept finding themselves locked with Atsumu, who grinned brightly and gave a thumbs up whenever you did. Your smile grew, nerves slowly dissipating as you lost yourself in your presentation.

Afterwards you answered a few questions from the crowd, thanking them again before heading back to your table. You shook hands with the host as they walked past to continue to the next topic and thanked your tablemates who congratulated you. You snorted at Tsukishima, who said it was a little boring, like he didn’t have a page of notes from the presentation in front of him.

You turned to your boyfriend, smiling as you laced your fingers together. “Wow babe that was amazing! I don’t know what half those words meant but you did great, I’m so proud of you.” You flushed at his praise, squeezing his hand while you kissed his cheek before turning back to the host, who was announcing the next speaker. You don’t know what would’ve happened if you didn’t work things out, and frankly you don’t want to think about it, the two of you are slowly building this back to where they were, but this time your relationship is stronger. You’re happier than you’ve ever been, and that’s what matters.

#My writing #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #atsumu x you #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x you #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x y/n #atsumu miya #atsumu x reader #haikyuu imagines

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girldirectionsource · 3 years

Note

hey!! could you recommend any long wlw fics?? preferably more than 70k words. thanks:)

Hi! Unfortunately, there aren’t that many longer girl direction fics but I do have two amazing ones to rec you that are both over 100k:

You Make Lovin’ Fun by @homosociallyyours

Harry is a 28 year old travel writer at a gay magazine who gets the assignment to go a lesbian cruise. She figures it's a nice chance to have some fun in the sun, but she's not expecting much else-- even if her partner and best friend are both encouraging her to hook up with someone while she's there.

When she locks eyes with a gorgeous silver fox from across the room, she starts to think she could've been wrong. There are lots of things standing in the way of anything real happening with her and Louis, but that doesn't stop them from falling for one another. True love isn't always easy, but they do make lovin' fun.

Crazy and Infectious by @star55

“Y’know,” Louis starts. “While we’ve got our phones out, you should give me your number. In case they ask who referred them.” “Oh, they don’t do that,” Harry replies as she locks her phone. “They’re not the kind of company who keeps tabs on who refers who.” Louis raises her eyebrows and smiles at this beautiful girl. “Harry,” she says slowly. “I’m hitting on you.”

A Shades of Pink story in which we flash back to find out just how Louis and Harry actually got together.

(If you haven’t read it yet, the entire Shades of Pink (Crazy in Love) series is over 400k at this point and I highly recommend checking it out!)

more under the cut!

And then here are some recs between 50k and 70k:

I love your demons (like devils can) by ariadne_odair

"I am right here," she says loudly, and she can almost hear the crack when Louis' head whips around to stare at her.

"Why?" Louis asks, and Harry feels her insides shrivel up and die.

Harry didn’t plan to join the football team. She didn’t plan to sleep with the captain of the football team. She definitely didn’t plan to sleep with the closeted captain of the football team, who promptly acted as if nothing happened and left Harry a pathetic, pining mess.

The Changer and the Changed by @homosociallyyours

It’s the spring of 1977 and Harry Styles has just moved to New York City after graduating college. She knows she’s a lesbian. She just needs to figure out how to meet other lesbians.

Louis Tomlinson works at a popular women’s bookstore in the Lower East Side, Womon’s Direction, where she spends her days reading feminist literature, writing poetry, exchanging friendly barbs with her boss Niall, and dreaming of finding someone to love.

When Harry and Louis meet, their connection is instantaneous. Slowly but surely, Louis welcomes Harry into her community of women. Stonewall veteran and old school butch Niall; Liam, a land dyke who’s moved to the city for love; and Zayn, a lesbian musician who’s been ostracized by a vocal part of women’s community for being trans, welcome Harry with open arms, ready to help her find her place in New York City’s bustling lesbian scene.

It’s a time of growth for everyone involved.

If I Was Stronger by @haloeverlasting

Harry’s fingers find her lips, in a silent moment of wonder and reverie, and her knees wobble as she’s assaulted with the image of Louis, right here in her bedroom, with her light blue eyes, and her gentle hands, and Harry feels an overwhelming rush and longing to reach out and touch. She imagines Louis stepping towards her slowly, treading lightly with her fingers on her cheek, where Harry’s dimple may appear, and whether Harry would like it if Louis’ thin lips found hers.

With her eyes closed, she imagines Louis standing very close, and she finds the wait to be agonizing, but when she goes to close the distance, there’s no one besides herself in her bedroom.

Harry lets out a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. She feels tingly, and hot, and absolutely terrified, but the next time she looks in the mirror, she sees someone she knows intimately. She sees that girl with bright green eyes, and unruly hair, and parted lips, and she loses her breath a moment, because while she knows that girl inside and out, she hasn’t been honest with herself until… well, now.

“I might be gay.”

A Girl Direction AU where Louis holds universes inside her, and Harry just wants to hold her.

That Smile and That Midnight Laugh by @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

Harry’s never noticed how lovely Louis really is. Maybe it’s just that she’s usually so guarded – a little tense, a little irritated, a little put out. At least when she’s at school, and also usually when she’s around Nick, which are the only times Harry has really seen her. Until tonight. Tonight Harry’s seen her with her guard completely down. Too busy laughing and enjoying herself to remember to be prickly, maybe. She seems different.

It feels different.

A Ferris Bueller's Day Off AU that picks up right where the movie leaves off, and imagines what might happen if Ferris' girlfriend and sister become friends. And maybe something more, too.

Sea Asunder by @cupcakentea

It’s only then, as Anne elegantly sits at the other end of the table, that Louis realises there’s a third set of cutlery and plate laid out on the side between them. She feels something twist in her belly, right when the sound of small heels coming closer echoes from the drawing room. She looks at Anne’s side, where the door she came from remains ajar. But she realises, as the steps slow down, that the one on hers is wide open. She feels the hair on her neck standing up slightly with what feels like a shift in the very atmosphere of the room. A gravitational pull that passes right by her side with no words, no sound, just a disturbance of the air. There she is.

A Portrait of a Lady on Fire AU

i must admit i thought i’d like to make you mine by @disgruntledkittenface

Louis fell apart when her ex broke up with her and moved across the country. Just as she’s starting to move on, Zayn comes back to town for their mutual friends’ wedding – with a new girlfriend as her plus one.

Blindsided and scrambling to save face, Louis lets herself get talked into a fake relationship with her new friend Harry. Their arrangement makes Louis feel pathetic and embarrassed, but it’s only going to last a few weeks. She just has to get through the wedding – what could happen?

And here some fics I found while putting this together that I haven’t read yet but which look good!

into the great wide open by @ficshl

It only took a week or so for Harry to truly get into the routine of life on the road. They woke before dawn each morning, ate a small meal, packed up the tent and rounded up the livestock, all before setting out. On a good day, they could make it twenty miles. There hadn’t been many bad ones, but Louis confessed that on a previous trip there had been a solid week where they hadn’t made it more than five miles a day. Soon, Louis promised, animals would start going lame, and wheels would start breaking, and people would start going hungry. The beginning was the easiest, and the end was doable only because the hope of finishing the trek fueled everyone. It was the middle bit, with the tedious marching hundreds of miles from any settlement, that people succumbed to the journey.

Safe and warm in your coat of arms by frenchkiss

If she's being completely honest with herself, Louis didn't want a girlfriend. She had fully intended to head off to university, fuck around a bit, and be the lesbian that her hometown hadn't let her be.

Too bad fate wanted to throw a spanner in the works. A tall, curly haired cherub of a spanner who tends to answer to the name Harry, to be exact.

Me, Her, And The Moon by star55

All Louis wants to do is survive secondary school and her A Levels, be the best sister that she can possibly be to her five sisters, and train as hard as possible to be her family’s future alpha. She doesn’t expect to meet her mate on the first day of school and have her entire world changed.

#i hope this is helpful!#50 to 60k #60 to 70k #100k+#Anonymous

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tickle-bugs · 3 years

Text

Some Things Never Change

Summary: Elsa visits Arendelle to plan her wedding. Like old times, she gets too invested in her work, and Anna helps remind her that perfection doesn’t have to come at the cost of peace. Anon: May I please request and Elsa and Anna fic where Elsa is working and Anna is either voter or just wants Elsa to pay attention to her,resorting to her using one of her quills to tickle her that turns into a huge tickle fight?

Spoilers for Frozen 2! DO NOT TAG THIS AS SHIP.

“...Elsa?”

“Hm?” Elsa didn’t look up from her parchment, just kept writing. Document upon document covered every inch of her desk, spilling over onto the floor. Sunlight streamed in through the window--thankfully she hadn’t gone full vampire and shut them.

“How’s it going?” Anna came up behind her and rested her hands on her shoulders.

“It’s going well,” Elsa muttered. She scratched idly at her chin and left a small inkstain. She tapped the tip of the quill on the parchment, leaving little dots of ink along the margins.

“How’s it going really?”

“Terrible.” Elsa groaned and dropped her face on the desk, narrowly missing her still-wet parchment. Her hair spilled loosely around her face and down her back in waves. Anna smiled and twirled some of the locks around her fingers. The little changes in Elsa’s style weren’t lost on her.

“Talk to me.” Anna gathered Elsa’s hair properly in her hands and started braiding, hands flying with practiced ease. They were making up for a lot of lost time nowadays.

“Originally, we were going to get married in the woods and stay at my palace for the honeymoon. Maren just told me that she wants to do a split culture wedding to, um, ‘reunify our people’.” Elsa hummed and leaned back in her chair. Her eyes fluttered shut.

“Maren said that? She was so excited for a Northuldra ceremony. She’s been looking forward to it since she was little.” Anna’s hands stilled.

“How’d you know that?” Elsa turned and squinted at her sister.

“Oh, y’know. Heard it from a little birdie on the grapevine.” Anna’s voice cracked and she looked anywhere but Elsa’s face.

“What?”

“We may have talked about the wedding. Extensively,” Anna breathed out her admission, holding out her hands in a gesture of peace. Elsa fixed her with the patented disappointed stare of an eldest sister, piercing directly to her soul.

“Don’t look at me like that! I just want you to be happy and I know how you tend to–“ Anna gestured at Elsa and her mess– “disconnect from everything.”

“I told you not to worry about it.” Elsa pinched the bridge of her nose with a long-suffering sigh.

“I’m not worried about it at all! I’m worried about you. You’re planning a wedding, not a funeral.” Anna poked Elsa in the forehead a few times.

“I’m okay.” Elsa smacked her hand away.

“Let me help.” Anna crossed her arms. She could see an argument forming in Elsa’s head and she was already prepared to shoot it down.

“Fine. You can write the letters to Corona and I’ll write to Denmark.” Elsa passed her a stack of parchment, a quill and an inkwell, making a noise of warning so Anna would show care in balancing the pile. After plucking a heavy book on Arendelle history from the bookshelf and precariously balancing everything in her arms, Anna situated herself on Elsa’s bed.

“On it.”

They passed the time in a meditative silence. Anna hummed a quiet tune while she worked and Elsa unconsciously joined in, their voices uniting to fill the room with lullabies. The soothing scratches of quills on parchment eventually quieted their songs, though Anna picked the tune up again as she signed the last invitation.

“Are you...almost done?” Anna stacked her bundle of letters on the far corner of Elsa’s desk, out of the way.

“Why?” Elsa mumbled, resting the feathered end of the quill against her lip. She crumpled the parchment she was working on and tossed it to the side. The paper ball bounced sadly into a rapidly-growing pile of letter rejects.

“We were supposed to visit the tailor, remember?” Anna rested her hands on the back of Elsa’s chair.

“I’ll just make a dress.”

“For your wedding?” Anna turned the chair around and forced Elsa to look at her.

“It’s not like I haven’t done it before.”

“I’m offended.”

“Anna, please.”

“What are you gonna do in twenty years when you want to remember your wedding dress? Stick your hands in a puddle?” Anna knew that she was starting to sound like their father, but how could she not scold her? It was Elsa’s wedding--not a runaway trip to the mountains, not a birthday party, but her wedding. Yes, she could do some amazing things with her powers, but this was ridiculous.

“...you have a point.”

“Thank you!” Anna huffed and crossed her arms.

“After I finish this batch of letters, we will go. I promise.”

“Pinky promise?” Anna reached out her pinky, just like she used to when they were kids. She knew it was silly, especially now that she was queen, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

“Pinky promise,” Elsa linked her pinky with Anna’s, chuckling when Anna yelped at the coldness of her hands.

Anna flitted around the room for a while, skimming through random books on the shelves and admiring the paintings on the walls. One hour passed, then two, and Anna’s patience waned with the time. She really didn’t have the faculties to sit still for this long. When she turned to properly bug Elsa about leaving, she found her with her head shoved under her desk.

“What are you looking for?”

“My…” Elsa stood completely, pulling her chair out of the way to properly peer under the desk. She scratched idly at the back of her head, disturbing the swan-feather quill tucked behind her ear.

“Your…?”

“Quill. My quill is missing. I just had it, too.” She lifted her parchment and books one by one, brows furrowed, and Anna muffled a giggle behind her hand.

“What?”

“Nothing. You, um, really don’t know where it is?” Anna forced her expression into neutrality but her wobbly smile wasn’t doing her any favors.

“I wouldn’t be looking for it if I knew, would I? Just help me look.” Elsa frowned, revisiting her stack of books. Anna smiled, pulled the quill from behind Elsa’s ear, and all hell broke loose.

Elsa squealed and jumped, knocking her chair on its side. Two blasts of ice flew from her hands and painted frozen waves upon the wall, just narrowly missing the framed portrait of their parents. She bumped her desk with her hip, and if it wasn’t for Anna’s quick reflexes, all of their hard work would be drenched in ink.

“Oh, thanks. I’m finishing up now, so-” Elsa mumbled, reaching for the quill. Anna crossed her arms and stared her down until she sighed, righted her chair, and started proof-reading their letters--as if that was remotely what Anna’s knowing stare meant.

“No, you’re done. Up! C’mon.” Anna tugged on Elsa’s hand but she didn’t budge.

“Don’t make me do it.” Anna narrowed her eyes. Elsa didn’t blink.

“You leave me no choice, then. Get up and I’ll stop.” Anna tried not to enjoy Elsa’s confusion too much—’tried’ being the key word.

Elsa shrieked when delicate hands attached to her sides and stayed there, mapping out the subtleties of the terrain. She slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes squinted in newly-familiar mirth, and she doubled over to try and escape. She’d never been great at resisting laughter, but then again, neither was Anna.

“Get up and I’ll stop,” Anna repeated, fingers gently crawling to her ribs now, and Elsa’s laughter jumped far more than such a delicate action would normally entail. Anna so badly wanted to tease her for it, but it wasn’t Elsa’s fault that she’d never gotten even somewhat used to this. It wasn’t really anyone’s fault.

“See? That wasn’t so hard. Let’s go-”

“Not so fast.” Elsa huffed, a little pink and very out of breath. Strands of hair were already flying loose from her braid, and matched with her smirk, it gave her a sort of unhinged look—the kind that no younger sibling wanted directed towards them.

“Let’s be reasonable-” Anna backpedaled, hands raised in a surrender, but Elsa pulled her back by the wrist and used her momentum to wrap Anna in her worst weakness: tickly hugs.

“I-I’m gonna die!” Anna screeched, prying at Elsa’s wrists to no avail.

“You’re so dramatic.” Elsa rolled her eyes, squeezing Anna’s sides. Anna’s bones were all but jelly now—without Elsa’s mean hands holding her up she would definitely be getting acquainted with the nice hardwood floor. Anna’s hands flailed and occasionally found purchase against Elsa’s face, which, while objectively hilarious, was starting to get annoying.

Elsa’s fingers pressed into Anna’s stomach just as she ran her fingers over Elsa’s ear, and the two flew apart like magnets with opposite poles.

“Hey!” Elsa snapped her hand up to her ear with a silly smile. Anna recovered from her giggles a bit slower, but she was fast enough to see that Elsa’s playful smirk hadn’t gone anywhere.

Uh oh.

“Last one to the Tailor’s a rotten egg!” Anna threw open the door, already halfway to the stairs. Elsa’s footsteps were scarily close behind. What better encouragement to slide down the railing?

“Wh--Anna, wait up!”

#my fics #disney #frozen 2 #elsamaren #ticklish!anna #anna #elsa #....why don't they have last names.

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arsenicpanda · 3 years

Text

So, I was tagged by the lovely @sullypants for this meme, like, two weeks ago, but I’m really bad at perceiving and measuring time, so I’m doing it now instead orz.

How many works do you have on AO3?

Five, one of which is a literal drabble, an exact 100 words, and ymmv on whether it should be its own fic.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

23,447, which is way more than I expected and and like almost a third of which is just chapter three of (ain’t it good to know) you’ve got a friend.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

So, like, back in the day, I wrote self-insert Sailor Moon fanfiction (I know, I know), but the only stuff that’s still up is Final Fantasy VII fic (including one on FFN that hasn’t been taken down solely because someone favorited it and, as someone who always gets bummed when a favorite fic vanishes, it’s forever up as a result) and Riverdale fic.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Broseph, I only have five fics up on AO3, but here’s the order anyway, from most to least:

(day)dreams can come true

wet dreams may come

(ain't it good to know) you've got a friend

Cancelled Plans

The Looming Fog and Other Strange Happenings

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I do my best to, but, uh, I’m not great at it in terms of timeliness (I’ve certainly got some that have been sitting waiting for a response for months, and I’ll get to them eventually, I promise). I’d like to think I’m pretty good at responding with substance though, when I finally get around to it. Like, if you name a specific part you like, I will give you too much insight into that part.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Well, (ain’t it good to know) you’ve got a friend was originally going to have a very angsty ending, but a.) I changed that after a discussion with my friend and b.) it’s not finished anyway lol. So, I guess wet dreams may come? Like, I end it with a reference to that scene in End of Evangelion (because I had the opportunity for a parallel and it also shows Jughead’s opinion of himself, even though his actions are harmless, whereas Shinji’s...well.), and that’s pretty angsty, yeah?

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

I mean, only three of them have endings, so (day)dreams come true, probably, because its ending is just very sweet (the third fic with an ending, Cancelled Plans, has a comedic end, so it doesn’t really qualify in the first place).

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

Not normally, but I have written a mashup with the Lovecraft mythos, specifically as seen in the Arkham Horror boardgame; it’s The Looming Fog and Other Strange Happenings, and it is by default the craziest one I’ve written.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Nope. I fly pretty under the radar.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yup. When you include incomplete/unpublished stuff, probably like 40-50% of stuff I write will contain some kind of smut because I find it sexy, fun, and intimate, and I’d say it’s...explicit? I’m prone to writing dirty talk, mainly, because I will forever love writing dialogue and think in terms of it; also, the fics I’ve published (and like two other incomplete fics that haven’t been published) skirt around portraying the actual act of sex from the POV of the ones having sex. Idk, that part’s really hard for me (no pun intended).

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don’t think so.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope, and I probably never will because I’m bad at finishing things, and I wouldn’t want to have the pressure/guilt of working with another person and dragging down the completion of the fic.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Lelouch/Shirley from Code Geass, 10000% THE otp, closely followed by Izaya/Namie from Durarara!!.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I’d really love to finish both my WIPs, but, uh, I doubt that will ever happen (I’m still completely stuck on the chapters that need finishing, and it doesn’t help that I have other fics taking up more space in my brain).

What’s your writing strengths?

I like to think I’m good at dialogue because I generally think in dialouge, but ymmv.

What’s your writing weaknesses?

Description and introspection, tbh, basically anything other than dialogue. It’s just not how I think, so it often is something I have to fill in. I generally have a solid picture in my head of what, exactly, is happening, but getting it down in words in a way that isn’t awkward af is v challenging for me.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I think you should avoid it if you can. I think it’s best to adhere to Megatokyo’s strategy of putting any dialogue in another language in brackets (either [] or <>) to show that it’s in another language; you still get the meaning, with no footnotes, and you don’t have to hunt down a native speaker and ask them to help write the dialogue correctly in another language or make the decision over whether to include end/foot notes with the translations. I do allow for some foreign language terms in dialogue, but then I think I mainly allow that in Naruto fic, and it’s mainly grandfathered in from years of fandom. Like, it’d be super weird to see a fic talk about techniques and not jutsu, y’know? And is there anything more awkward than an “upperclassmen” in place of “senpai”?

What’s the first fandom you wrote for?

Sailor Moon, but the first non-self insert stuff was Final Fantasy VII.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I think (day)dreams come true is the best fic I’ve written, hands down. It has the strongest emotional core and emotional progression. I also just really like the ending. But there are also a few lines and moments in other fics that I’m really pleased with; for example, the lunch conversation in chapter three of (ain’t it good to know) you’ve got a friend is one of my absolute favorite things I’ve written.

And that’s it. Ok, uh, tagging (god, I’m so bad at tagging people, and idek who’s done this, so apologies for if you’ve already finished) @gettingjuggiewithit @imreallyloveleee @satelliteinasupernova @heartunsettledsoul and anyone else who wants to do this

#tag games #writing

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years

Note

Have you seen the post going around about the zoom class with one guy and his full streamer setup vs the guy whose just in the middle of the woods? I know you have a prompt list rn but I’m just saying there’s a sternclay fic in there somewhere...

It is! Here you go!

Life is better with order. Or, at the very least, with some attempt at patterns, organization, or consistency.

Which is why Stern has carefully arranged his desk, his chair, and his equipment in the background. Streaming as a hobby and a side hustle means he has some (okay, a lot) of practice making his digital self look just right. He needs to make a good impression on the first day of the semester.

Unlike some people.

“Holy shit man, are you in the woods?” Duck, the guy in a “Monongahela National Forest” shirt, grins as he asks this of another student whose screen consists of a forest clearing, a log, and the name “Barclay.”

“Yeah. Hang on, lemme finish getting the phone balanced.”

“Dude, that’s like, way better than my background” this comes from Jake, in front of a poorly rendered half-pipe.

“Can’t really take credit for it, just where I ended up.” Barclay sits down, and Stern gets his first look at a man so tall he barely fits in the frame, with a short, coppery beard and an honest-to-god man-bun.

Damn west coast schools.

“How is your battery going to last long enough for class?” Stern leans back in his chair, certain Barclay will have “battery trouble” halfway through as an excuse to cut out early.

Barclay smiles, lifting up a small green and black rectangle, “solar battery. Not everyone needs fancy gadgets for school.” He aims a pointed stare at Sterns set-up.

“It’s important to have the right equipment.”

“Whatever you say, man.” He lifts a cup of iced coffee into the frame, sipping it through a straw. It’s the picture of relaxation, as if nothing is wrong in the world. As if this is all totally normal.

Stern wants to reach through the screen and slap some sense into him. Preferably while he’s shirtless.

He chalks that thought up to not having gotten laid since last December and pulls up his note taking software as Professor Chicane enters the room.

------------------------------------

Private Chat 9/20/20

Duck (he/him): I timed it, we’re already at ten minutes of arguing.

Indrid (he/him): I know Ned enjoys their demonstrating the different modes of rhetoric, but this is a bit extreme.

Duck: To be fair, Joe does seem kinda uptight.

Indrid: Yes, but Barclay should know by now that zeroing in on him during our practice debates only results in this.

Duck: Yeah. Oh shit, are they for real wrapping up you think?

Indrid: We can only hope. Skype me tonight?

Duck: Of course, sugar.

--------------------------------------

What is Joseph’s problem? He’s got a set-up that would make a pro-vlogger jealous, what looks to be a well-lit apartment with some houseplants and the kind of coffee-cups that are weirdly lacking in personality. His clothes are immaculate, his hair slicked back as if he;s in a business meeting rather than an online class in the midst of a chaotic world. So why is he acting like everything is terrible? And why is he always arguing with Barclay, when there are plenty of other people in the class to disagree with?

“Now” Mr. Chicane’s voice booms through the tiny speaker on his phone, “if you all had a chance to read over the instructions, we will begin the first mock debate. Do we have any volunteers?”

He and Joe raise their hands at the same time. Mr. Chicane raises an eyebrow.

“While I appreciate your eagerness, gentlemen, I would like two other volunteers this time.”

That’s fine by him. It’s not like he likes listening to Joseph get all wound up and passionate, making everyone on the call sit up and take notice of him. It’s not as if he enjoys being the center of his focus.

Nope, not at all.

-----------------------------

Private chat 10/11/20

Jake (he/him): Dudes, did you see who got paired up on the final project?

Aubrey (she/her): Chicane must be getting them back for all the times they’ve hijacked discussions.

Duck (he/him): Man, for their sake I hope it works out.

Indrid (he/him): This is going to be a disaster.

--------------------------------------

“Are you out of your mind!” Stern is talking before Barclay’s video is fully on.

“Nope. And you don’t have to yell, my speaker works just fine.”

“You’re outside, for all I know there’s a ton of ambient noise.”

Barclay, phone obviously in his hand as he walks through the trees, groans.

“And don’t try to derail this; how can you possibly suggest I come out there so we can do the project in person? We’re supposed to be limiting travel and gatherings.”

“Look, Joseph, we both agree that trying to generate our own cryptid hoax is the best way to demonstrate all the techniques Ned wants us too, right?”

“Yes” he hides his answer behind the rim of his coffee mug.

“We’ll do a way better job if we work in the same space. And if it makes you feel any better, I haven’t had any human contact in three weeks; all quarantined up, unlike whatever you’ve been doing in the city.”

He sets the mug down with a thunk, “I haven’t been out in a month. And before that was only for one grocery run and a hospital visit.”

“Uhhh-”

“I cut my hand cooking. So. Yeah.”

Literal crickets chirp, courtesy of Barclay’s end of the line, as the silence stretches on.

“If it helps, it’s real easy to stay isolated here, and I’ve still got utilities and everything.”

“And you’re not subsisting only on MREs or granola or something?”

A deep chuckle, the kind that makes his skin prickle, “Nope. That much I can promise.”

Stern glances around the studio apartment, clean and empty.

“What’s your address?”

------------------------------------

Look, all Stern is going to say is that he’s seen and read plenty of stories that start with a cabin in the woods and none of them end well. Which is why he’s still sitting in his car, parked beside a beat-up Subaru, rather than knocking on the door.

Breathe in, five counts. Out for four. Repeat four times.

Waiting for him on the door is a note.

Joseph,

Key under mat, make yourself at home.

Barclay.

He brings in his bags (a matching set of three, a gift from his aunt last year), placing them in the tiny guest room. It’s not much more than a bed, a dresser, and a tiny table. But there’s a heating unit below the window looking out into the woods, which is pretty pleasant. He’ll be keeping the blinds closed at night, though; he hates the thought of something being able to look in.

Stern’s busy evaluating the laundry closet when the front door opens.

“Hey, glad you found the place okay.”

Barclay stands in the doorway, a basket full of fruit in one hand. He’s remarkably kempt for a man living in the woods and that, combined with the deep voice being even richer in person and the fact Stern has to actually look up to meet his eyes, has him stumbling for words.

“Your directions were very thorough. Thank you. Um. I put my things in there, should I, um-”

“I can give you the grand tour.” The taller man sets the basket on the dining table, notices Sterns puzzled expression “there’s a piece of property about a mile thataway that has orchards they don’t really use. They let me come and pick whenever i want, less for them to clean up.”

Barclay keeps up a steady monologue as he shows him the cabin. The lower level is the living room and dining area, a kitchen which leads onto the back deck, Sterns room, and a bathroom. As the cabin is A-frame, the upstairs is Barclay’s room, all dark wood and pine colored plaid. It’s as Barclay is telling him about the woodpecker that sometimes nests in the eaves that he realizes why he’s talking so much.

He’s nervous.

Neither of their nerves improve when he gets to his last point of order.

“Uh, so, the bathroom downstairs is only a half-bath.”

“So...if I want to shower, which I do, I have to come up here.”

“Yeah.” Barclay scratches the back of his neck, “sorry. I don’t, like, sleep naked or anything so we should be fine.”

“Disappointing.” Stern sighs, only to sail past sarcastic and land face first in sincere.

Barclay blushes, then shrugs, “Trust me, after the first night, you’ll see why.”

Stern does. He’s warm as long as he’s in bed, but the moment he ventures into the bathroom in the middle of the night he’s cocooned in cold.

The morning brings cinnamon and coffee on the draft coming under the door. He plods into the kitchen in search of caffeine, finds Barclay in an pron, the counter covered in trays of dough.

“Morning!”

“Morning. Coffee-”

“Right there, sugar and stuff’s in the cabinet above it, cream and such is in the fridge.”

Blessedly, there’s heavy cream to be found, and soon he’s sipping from an enamel mug emblazoned with a UFO made of veggies.

“Is this all for your job?” Barclay mentioned he was a cook during an icebreaker.

“Yep. Way it works is I bust my ass baking once or twice a day, and Thacker, who works with Mama at the Lodge in town, comes and takes them over there. Normally I’d just be there but, well, y’know.”

“Everything is on fire? Figuratively, I mean.”

“Sometimes literally too, but yeah.”

As he’s turning to grab his clothes and head showerward, Barclay adds, “You a scone man, coffecake man, or a cinnamon roll man?”

“Coffeecake?” It comes out hesitant.

“There’s no right answer, man.” Barclay sounds amused, “what do you want?”

“Cake, definitely.”

“Cool. I’ll save you a slice.”

Once he’s showered and on the wi-fi, his day runs like normal; one lecture, reading, a research paper, his initial half of their project, and working either his copy-editing or transcription job in between, and planning his next stream. Barclay comes and goes, stops now and then to see if he needs anything, leaves a sandwich in front of him around dinner time. Then it’s time to crawl under the covers and dream of a less-stressful world.

The next day, just before one, Barclay taps him on the shoulder.

“Ready for class?”

“Yes…” He gestures to his laptop and notebook.

“C’mon, join me out here, it’s way nicer, and we can share the phone.”

“Barclay, it’s a nonsensical way to attend class, just stay in here with me! Even this set-up has to be better than the woods.”

“This set up. You mean my house?” All the friendliness leaves hi voice.

“Yes. Look, I agreed to come out because you’re right, if we want to ace this thing that’s worth sixty percent of our grade, this is the place to do it; I don’t have to go along with the whole self-sufficient woodsman aesthetic while I’m here. “

“Yeah, I’d say you’re pretty far from self-sufficient. See you in class.”

Stern stews through the entire session, but where he’d usually find something Barclay says to latch onto, he instead gnaws on himself. Why didn’t he just go with him? Why snap at someone who’s been nothing but nice since he got here?

Whatever the answer, how can he fix it?

---------------------------------------

Barclay tromps back through the twilight, done with his second class of the day. If Joseph is in the main house, he plans to ignore him until tomorrow morning. That all goes out the window with the clank of dishes from the kitchen.

Peering in reveals the other man bent over, pulling a casserole from the oven. He waits to announce his presence until Joseph is out of the danger zone, enjoying the view as he does.

“Smells good.”

Blue eyes flick over to him as Joseph opens drawers, “it’s mostly cheese and chips, so I’m not surprised.”

“Servers are in that one.”

“Thank you. Nacho pie?” He scoops some into a bowl, holding it out.

“Sure. Uh, look, Joseph I-”

Joseph holds up the server, “Wait. Before you apologize I, um, I wanted to say I’m sorry for my comments. And for being so...me-ish.” He sighs, staring at the utensil in his grip, “I’ve always been a little bit tense, tried to be polite and effective and friendly in spite of it. The last six months made that harder to do. I don’t love it when I can’t be organized, when normal systems go out of place. But that’s no excuse for being rude to you, even before you invited me here. You’re just so...you’re always so calm and relaxed, like nothing was wrong and I just honed in on that way more than made sense. I’m sorry.”

“If it makes you feel better, I kinda did the same thing. You’re always so put together, it looked like you had this organized life in the midst of this whole shitstorm. I feel lik everything is slipping away, like my world is just this cabin. I mean, I assumed you were seeing friends in the city, while I haven’t seen Mama in person since April. So” he sets the bowl down, rests his hand on Joseph’s shoulder, “I’m sorry too.”

Joseph laughs, softly, “turns out we both had failures of imagination, huh?”

“Yeah” he runs a hand over Joseph's back, “now come on, this dinner’s not gonna eat itself.”

-----------------------------------

“You sure you don’t wanna wear the bigfoot costume?”

“Positive. Besides, it suits you.” Joseph finishes styling the fur on the head of the costume to look more realistic, “I just hope we get this done before that storm comes in; as mush as the rain would add to the mood of the scene, that’ll be hell to dry and you’ll be miserable. So, go lurk over there while I finish up getting the camera settings where they need to be.”

“Yes sir” Barclay pops the head on, leaves crunching as moves to his appointed tree. He smiles as he watches Joseph fiddle with the camera; things have been so much better between them these last two weeks. They trade off cooking dinner, study side by side, and watch movies or play games in the warmth of the heater. They have a similar sense of humor and taste in books, and are tidy to boot. Joseph’s even come with him to listen to lectures in the woods, the pair sharing a thermos of coffee under the astonished gaze of their classmates. There’s just one problem.

Barclay’s buried crush is now blooming in every direction. Animated, argumentative Joseph was attractive. Joseph, in all his moods and mannerisms, is devastatingly enchanting. He’s come close to telling him this, but the other man is his guest and also only here for another two and a half weeks, so a confession is setting himself up for heartbreak at worst and awkwardness at best.

He almost blew it last night when they were washing dishes (Joseph scrubs, Barclay dries and puts away).

“Last one.”

“Thanks, blue eyes.”

“What was that?”

“Uh, blue eyes? Like a, uh, a nickname?”

Joseph laughs, “Sounds like something from a Raymond Chandler book. I like it.”

On the plus side, if Joseph thinks it’s just a nickname and not a pet name, maybe Barclay can keep using it.

“Are you ready?’

He sticks up a hairy thumb and calls, “you know it, blue eyes.”

That same laugh as Joseph takes up his position. Maybe it’s the weird film over the costume’s eyes, but Barclay swears he sees a blush.

-------------------------

Stern trawls through the search results. Their video is getting some traction, with two cryptid hunter sites claiming it’s credible footage. He’s making note of how the information spread, which threads lead to belief and which to doubt, when Barclay calls from upstairs.

“Joseph? Little help?”

The other man is in the bathroom, and when Stern knocks he says, “Think the pilot light on the water heater went out again, all I’m getting is cold water. Can you go relight it?”

“Sure.” He gets to the stairs then, stops, “where’s the key to that closet?”

“Huh? Oh, shit, right, hang on” Barclay says at the same time as Stern’s “don’t worry, I can find it.”

Which is why the instant he turns back into the bedroom is the same instant Barclay steps out of the bathroom, blue towel around his waist.

Any blood that doesn’t head south goes instantly to Stern’s cheeks.

“You okay there, blue-eyes?”

“It’s completely unfair how good you look without a shirt.”

He clamps a hand over his mouth.

“Idn’t ean to ay at out oud” The mumbled explanation makes Barclay smirk.

“You like this, should see what’s under the towel.”

The unusually bold statement from Barclay kindles his own confidence.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, big guy.”

“Who says I won’t.” Barclay sits down on the edge of the bed, nonchalant and leaning back on his hands, “got plenty of time to make good on them.”

“We literally don’t. I go back in a week and two days.”

Barclay toys with the lint on the towel, “you could stay. Through break, through next semester, for however long you wanted.”

“Do you mean that?”

A shy nod, “I like having you around, Joseph. Even beyond the huge fucking crush I have on you I...everything is a little better when you’re around.”

“I, um, I guess it could work. We know next semester is online too, and so is work, so…” there must be variables missing, something he’s not seeing, some reason this is too good to be true.

“You want some space away from shirtless me to think about it?”

“That’d be great.”

Barclay stands, hesitates, then plants a quick kiss on his forehead, “take all the time you need, blue eyes.”

------------------------------

Private Chat log 1/11/2021

Barclay (he/him): Did you see the look on Duck’s face when we turned up in frame together.

Joseph (he/him): Yes. Pretty sure Aubrey yelled something about him needing to pay up. I wonder what the bet was.

Barclay (he/him): Whatever it was, pretty sure I came out the biggest winner.

Stern snorts, trying not to blush on camera, and leans over to kiss his boyfriend on the cheek.

#agent stern/barclay #sternclay #taz amnesty #college AU

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illfoandillfie · 4 years

Note

Hey i hope you're enjoying your time off work so far! Id like to request a roger blurb please, it's not from a prompt list but I had a thought the other day I couldn't get out of my head! So I was reading something on The Cross and the other lads in the band were like 22, and I just imagined being one of their friends and they offer to bring you into the studio for a day because youre interested to see how they record but you're a bit nervous to meet roger and when are introduced you can't get over how hot he is in the flesh and he thinks youre really cute and takes a liking to you and theres a bit of flirting and loads of chemistry 😍 honestly would love to read a whole fic on this but a blurb would great! 😁 p.s sorry this is so long! 😂

This is such a cute idea! I hope I did it justice!

~~~

You’ve known Peter for years. Watched as he’s picked up the bass as a hobby and then got seriously into it. You went with him when he went to audition for a band, waited out the front of the building they held them in and asked him how it went when he was done. The rumour was that a musician who was already quite famous was looking for people to join a new band so your first question was actually…

“Who was it?”

“Roger Taylor!”

“Who?”

“From Queen! Y’know, the drummer,”

Less exciting than you’d imagined. If it had been Freddie himself you would have been more impressed. And the guitarist (whats-his-name, tall fellow with all the hair) might have been worth a exclamation and maybe tempted you to turn back and try and catch a glimpse. But the drummer? Who cares. But the good news was that Peter was in. Rodney or whatever his name was had clearly liked what he saw and you couldn’t blame him, Peter was the best bassist you knew, best musician you knew. You were proud of Peter and happy for him.

There were a few perks to being besties with the bassist in a proper band. He gave you copies of all their albums and you got to meet the rest of the band. Well most of them. The singer, the famous one, had never been able to make it, always busy with Queen or his family. But he seemed like a top bloke from everything you heard about him and you did like his style, his voice. You’d thought you might finally get to meet him when you went and saw them play on the tour but unfortunately you’d had to back out at the last minute after catching a flu-like bug.

It wasn’t until they were working on the next album that it happened. You were hanging out at Peter’s place, his first day off since they’d finished recording, when he got a phone call. As he put it, some fucking moron had fucked up one of the tapes and they had to go in and re-record a whole fucking song. He was apologetic for ruining your day together but you waved him off. You could see him again tomorrow or the next day or whenever.

“Unless you wanted to come with me? Hopefully it won’t take more than a couple of hours and then we can go see a movie or something. And you can see how we make an album.”

“All that shit you’ve told me about it might actually make some sense,” you laughed but agreed to the plan.

Spike was the first to see you, pulling you into a hug but the rest of the band was soon saying hi too and waving as they plugged in instruments and tuned them. Peter left you to find Roger and ask what had been lost so you ambled around the studio, looking at the records that hung on the walls and all the equipment. The numerous buttons and dials and adjustable slides made you feel a little like you were in a space ship in a sci-fi movie. You were just beginning to wonder where Peter had vanished to and when they’d be getting on with it when the door behind you opened and in he walked with Roger. You smiled and waved and he said something to Roger before they came over to your corner of the room.

“So you’re Y/N? I’m sorry I haven’t been able to meet you earlier, Peter’s told me so much about you.” He reached out to shake your hand as he spoke and you were struck by how charming he was.

“He has, has he?”

“All good I promise,”

“Of course it’s all good. He knows how much dirt I have on him.”

Roger laughed as Peter rolled his eyes.

“Sorry, I’m Roger by the way.”

“Nice to finally meet you Roger,”

“I’ll try not to keep your boy too long. But please, make yourself comfortable. There’s a couch over there or you can sit and watch what they do at the desk.”

You thanked him for letting you be there and wished them luck as they turned and went through the second door into the recording space. And then you kicked yourself for saying something so stupid. No one had told you Roger was hot. That was crucial information and no one had thought to inform you. You’d heard he was funny and a great musician and all this other stuff and not once had they said he was hot! You tried to remember if you’d noticed it on any of the record sleeves but you couldn’t say you’d really paid much attention. You’d been much more focused on Peter. But now, after having met Roger, you felt like you were regressing to a giggly teenager again and had to turn around so no one would see you grinning.

After a bit of discussion half the band left the recording space, leaving the drummer to lay down his part first. Peter came over to talk to you, but your eyes were firmly stuck on Roger as he bent over one of the mixing boards.

“Y/N, did you hear me?” Peter said, tapping you on the shoulder.

“Huh?”

“Can you stop drooling over Rog for a second,”

“I’m not drooling,” you wrenched your eyes away from Roger and turned to face Peter instead.

“Might as well be,”

“What’s his deal anyway?”

“Seriously?”

“I’m curious, sue me,”

“Divorced. Kids. Twice your age,”

“Any downsides I should know about?”

“Twice your age isn’t a downside?”

“Course not. Means he’s experienced and mature,”

Peter laughed and you took the opportunity to look over at Roger again, though you quickly brought your gaze back to Peter.

“Seriously though, is there any reason I should be wary?”

“I’ve known Rog for a few years now and he’s a really great guy, if a little busy. Plus, if Spike’s stories about Queen tours are to be believed, you’re right to say he’s experienced,”

You laughed and this time when you looked back at Roger your eyes met. You smiled, the sort of flirty smile the boys in the local pub liked. He smiled back before turning to the desk again.

For the next few hours you watched as each band member took a turn in the booth, playing their part over and over and over until everyone was satisfied with how it sounded. It was a little boring, the novelty soon wearing off, but there were things to keep you entertained. Peter talked to you while he wasn’t preoccupied, sometimes joined by one or two of the others. Occasionally they’d interrupt whatever they were saying to comment on how the person playing sounded, and Roger would make adjustments based on the feedback, or talk into the little speaker and relay the advice. Mostly you amused yourself by fantasising about Roger, watching him over the shoulder of whoever was talking to you. You caught him look at you a few more times too. It happened more frequently once Peter was in the booth and you decided you might as well make a move. Afterall, how likely was it you’d see Roger again any time soon?

He’d said you could sit closer to the desk if you wanted so you sidled up next to him and asked him to explain what you were looking at. He beckoned you closer still, wrapped his arm around your waist as he pointed out different slides and buttons and explained what they did. There was a definite tension between you, something electric, something that made your skin tingle where his hand lay. You nodded along, asked questions. He seemed impressed by that, happily answering everything in great detail. Until he turned back to watch Peter, his hand slipping from your waist and his voice becoming much more serious. When Peter was done, you hugged him and said he sounded great.

“I saw you practically sitting on Roger’s lap just now,” he whispered, double checking Roger himself wasn’t listening in.

“I think he likes me,”

“You’re young and pretty of course he likes you,”

“You’re the worst person to talk to about this,” you laughed, “But would you care if I…”

“What, seduced him?”

“I was going to say asked him out but same diff,”

“Y/N, you’re a grown woman and I’m not your keeper,”

“Okay but you’re in a band with him, I don’t want to like, get in the way.”

“If you want to go for it then go for it.”

“Even with the age gap?”

“It clearly doesn’t bother you and lord knows I hope that when I’m 40 something I can still pull 22 year olds.”

You laughed, your mind made up.

There wasn’t much chance to put your plan in motion inside the studio. Too many people and Roger became distracted as it was his turn to record his vocals. Hearing Roger sing what was obviously a love song made your breath catch and your heart race. If you’d felt unsure about him, those doubts were gone. You found yourself standing by the desk again, not to see how they adjusted the levels but just to be closer to the glass between you and Roger. He smiled at you between verses and you desperately wanted to be the person he was singing about. As he re-sang the final verse, adjusting based on feedback from the others, you felt like you needed some air. Slipping out the door you headed down the corridor and stepped out of the building. Two vending machines were there and you dug out your purse for some change. As you were crouching down to collect the bottle you heard the door open again. It was Roger.

“I’m sorry this is taking longer than we thought,”

“Oh, it’s fine I feel like I understand what Peter does now. But maybe can make it up to me after with a coffee?”

Roger opened his mouth to respond and then paused.

“Doesn’t have to be coffee…”

“I’m flattered but I’m not sure that’s a good idea,”

“Why not? Is it because I’m younger than you?”

“No, no, that’s not it. I’m just not in the habit of taking my bandmates girls’ out on dates,”

Realisation dawned on you and you began to laugh, even more so once you saw Roger’s confused expression, “Me and Peter aren’t together. We’re just mates,”

“Really? But he talks about you a lot and Spike said-”

“Spike doesn’t know what he’s on about. Did you not wonder why I was flirting so much?

“No, I definitely wondered. But that’s, that’s good.”

“Good?”

“Well, what I mean is, you’re cute. I would have asked you out already expect that I thought…But that’s by the by, um,” he scratched the back of his head, “So you still want to get that coffee?”

#my writing #my blurbs #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #look! somehing non filthy!#scorpiogemini

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shadowsong26fic · 3 years

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Coming Attractions!

A day late, but ah well...

As usual, we’ll go ahead and do an Open Question Night. Which basically means that, while my ask box is always open, tonight I’ll be keeping an eye on it and answering things as they come in. Any fandom or work I’ve talked about here (or posted on AO3) is fair game, as are general questions about writing, etc. I do accept prompts, but I am. Not very good at filling them in a timely manner unless they Immediately spark something, lol.

So, yeah, what’s on your mind?

Also, since I don’t think I have for a couple months, plug for my Discord server! It’s pretty quiet, mostly intended to be a slightly more interactive extension of this space, but you’re welcome to check it out!

Anyway, the usual Coming Attractions details are behind the cut!

PodTogether 2021:

I participated in this challenge for the first time this year, and it was a whole lot of fun! Of Other Suns is a SW/AtLA crossover, and I think it turned out pretty well! My reader/podficcer and I worked pretty closely together during the initial brainstorming process, working out what we wanted to do, and also bounced off one another during the whole editing/finalizing process. There’s a lot that I didn’t end up putting into the fic (because time and length; I am a. Uh. Very wordy writer; the aim was for 6-12k words, we ended up with nearly 15k as it is...), so I might poke more at this specific AU, or crossovers linking up at a different time (either a different point in the SW canon, or in the AtLA canon, or both). I...definitely have extensive headcanons for SW characters as benders of various elements (or nonbenders), and there are at least two Force-sensitive AtLA characters who were outside the scope of the crossover.

Anyway, if you want to check it out...click this link XD (and definitely listen to the podfic too!!! It’s really great)

Precipice:

So, between the final push on PodTogether and some origfic stuff I got done, I...did not get anything finished and posted for this, alas. But! I am saying it here in the hopes that doing so publicly will for once get me to actually stick to a deadline, which is that I will get either the first Protectors chapter or the next Preludes one-shot (or both!) up by this Sunday, September 12. The Protectors chapter will be mostly scene-setting, establishing where various characters are when we open, six years after we last saw our heroes. The Preludes segment will involved Hondo contacting Obi-Wan (and Anakin, who’s with him when he gets the call) about something Relevant To Their Interests.

I will for sure get that Prelude out this month, and hopefully at least two Protectors chapters, but we’ll see how things go at work and how much brain that takes, which is always a factor...anyway, with any luck, I’ll start establishing a Rhythm. I don’t think I’ll be doing weekly updates, the way I did for the first few arcs of Precipice (in part because there are some other longform projects I intend to start putting out and if I am going to do Weekly Fic Posts, I’ll probably alternate), but we’ll see how things go.

AtLA Fic:

Again, I didn’t finish what I wanted to (other than the aforementioned crossover for PodTogether), but I have been working on stuff in the background and, while I’m not going to commit to a Specific Deadline like I am for Precipice, I do plan to post at least the opening chapter of the still-untitled Avatar Zuko AU I’ve been working on this month, so watch this space!

Other Fic Projects:

I’m poking around at what to do for next years SWBB (if only because my wordcounts have been Steadily Increasing and I’d like to get a head start in anticipation of that happening again this year, lol). Still considering exactly what to do, whether I pour all my focus into OFLAM, like I consider every year, or see if I can work up Bail Unfucks the Timeline or another half-plotted AU I have in the back of my head, or go with a different prompt/storyline that occurs to me at some point between now and then, but I’m starting to Actively Ponder things.

I do have that BSG1 crossover outline in the works, I swear XD I’ve got...uh...maybe half to two thirds of the first third of the overall storyline written up? XD It’s a. Uh. Long one. I might go ahead and release it in three parts, just for length/convenience, and because it does more or less have three distinct sections (the initial contact/New Caprica fallout and establishment of the Haven settlement which makes sense in context; the second contact/algae planet; and then an adventure on a resurrection ship to retrieve a Specific Boxed Five and possibly walk away with Ellen because that would just ruin Cavil’s day and I do so love to ruin Cavil’s day, lol). ...I’m going to go ahead and post a preview snippet at the bottom of this post, as Motivation XD

I think that’s all the fanfic stuff I have specific updates for. There’s generally always stuff noodling around in my brain (lately, for Star Wars, AtLA, BSG, or some combination of the three), it’s just how much of it materializes, lol.

At some point, I plan to revisit some BSG epics I had going on (Serenissima; rewriting For Sorrow Sung or doing a slightly different storlyine with the same concept; The Other Battlestar; a few others), but no concrete plans as of yet.

I also kind of want to explore a far-past AtLA setting I designed for a challenge community way back? But I’m not sure if that would work better as an original work with the serial numbers filed off, if I could figure out how I wanted to do that (I have done it before, as I’ll talk about below, but this concept, while not directly involving any characters from Avatar canon as it’s set 2000 years prior to Sozin’s reign, does to an extent lean on the Avatar specifically as a concept, in a way that the other fic I did this with did not).

Original Fic:

Due to a challenge on rainbowfic, I actually got. Quite a bit written? Most of it was not super plot-relevant, but I dropped some Hints about a character in Lux and I got to play in some heads I don’t very often. I might go back to the Regency AU at some point, and there’s a specific reveal I want to write up for a secondary character in The Farglass Cycle, but I haven’t quite figured out how to structure that one, so we’ll see how it goes.

Had an interesting discussion the other day about the way original fiction sometimes starts as fanfic with the serial numbers filed off and...well, a lot of my original stuff starts that way? Or has some roots there, anyway.

Lux doesn’t quite as much, but I definitely ported in at least two characters who started as fanfic characters (leaving aside that this is, y’know, The Apocalypse IN SPACE so, like. Various fandoms that deal with that probably influenced things, plus several key players are Public Domain Characters sooooo), plus some of the way the world is constructed draws on the Native Tongue trilogy and I flat-out stole a concept from Queen of the Damned, though the way it works in this world is different (also, to be fair, I think I’ve seen it in other places, too; but I personally got the idea from there).

The Farglass Cycle and Untitled Intrigues Story, however, straight-up started as fanfic concepts. And I don’t think it’s obvious unless I point out what the source materials were? Farglass, in particular (it’s the AtLA fic I mentioned earlier), because it started as an alternate future and then the map and magic system got reworked, plus the Avatar themself wasn’t even super involved in the original fic context, and while certain characters are very loosely based on AtLA characters, by now they’ve been so altered by the setting that it’s...I used the same archetypes, if that makes sense?

And then Untitled Intrigues Story started as a fusion between two wildly different fandoms, and while one character is a pretty clear expy if you know where he comes from, and another character kept the same actress in my head, I don’t think it’s very clear other than that.

...anyway, not sure where I’m going with that, other than it’s been in my head lately, lol.

...I think that about covers it! What about you guys? What are you all working on? Slash any questions, etc.?

Teaser for BSG1 AU outline, as promised:

So, anyway, SG-1 is prepared for rain and mud and a survivable-but-kinda-unpleasant environment. They’re also prepared for the usual shenanigans--Goa’uld, cranky local politics, weird alien tech that Daniel really should know better than to touch but sends him into another dimension anyway...

Just. Y’know. A normal mission.

They’re...not quite prepared for what they actually find when they step through.

Which is a very tense and now slightly Confused crowd of people, and a firing squad made up of very large killer robots, with a teenage girl as their target.

(One of the large killer robots is. Uh. Well. Half a large killer robot now; that particular Centurion was in the wrong place at the wrong time and got kawooshed in the face. As one does.)

(Said Centurion absolutely wins the ‘Weirdest Death’ pool for the week in Download City, because that is clearly a thing that exists because it entertains me)

There’s a beat where everyone just stares at everyone else, trying to figure out what the hell is going on.

The wormhole disengages.

Daniel takes half a step forward, opens his mouth to start the ‘we are peaceful explorers from Earth and y’all seem to be having a Moment here, sorry for interrupting, but, uh...’

And then the moment end and absolute chaos erupts.

#coming attractions #open question night #shadowsong writes star wars #shadowsong writes atla #shadowsong writes crossovers #shadowsong writes original fic #feedback greatly appreciated

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saxxxology · 4 years

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A Night Alone (oneshot)

You and Sam take advantage of your last night away from the Bunker to fan the fire of your relationship.

PAIRING: Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader WARNINGS: a/b/o dynamics, smut NOTE: Edited by me - please heed the warnings and enjoy! Do not save or repost my work without my consent. This work is 18+ only.

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It’s been a long week. You and Sam have been on the road for two of the six days, trying to get back to the Bunker in a timely manner. It’s summer, and several music festivals across the midwest are building up more traffic than you want to think about. By the time you call it quits on your second day of driving, both of you are tired, pent-up, and want nothing more than to find somewhere to blow off steam.

You haven’t been mated very long, only a couple of months. Sam’s been the one to undergo the most adjustment since; he’s constantly on high alert, scenting out anything that shows the least sign of foreignness and blocking it out and away from you, just in case it could be dangerous.

The motel you find is nearly full, and you settle for a double-queen even though you know only one of the beds will be used. It’s cleaner than most rooms you’ve had over the last few years with the Winchesters, but Sam, of course, sets about tidying it up. Pillows are fluffed and dusted off, the sheets checked for bed bugs or stains, and the shower undergoes a quick test for hot water.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, stepping close as you toe off your boots. “I can order something. Anything you want.”

You hum when he lowers his head, pressing warm lips to yours. “Pizza.”

“Pizza it is.” He kisses you deeper, cupping your face in both hands and sighing deeply before pulling back. “You look tired. Take a bath, I’ll call when it’s here.”

You smile gratefully and snag a nightshirt and your toiletries from the top of your suitcase. The bath is nearly perfect, and you happily scrub yourself clean with your favorite peach-scented body wash and soak in the warm water until Sam knocks on the door.

The scent of pizza fills the air when you step out into the air-conditioned room. Sam’s already munching on a slice as he reclines on the bed, watching a rerun of a forensics show on TV. He switches it to the news, knowing you’ll find it more interesting after the particularly gory ghoul hunt you’ve just finished.

“I love this,” you take a huge bite of pizza and bring the box onto the bed. “I’m starving.”

Sam chuckles and holds his arm up to let you in against his side. “I can tell. We should be able to get back tomorrow night, if there’s no more traffic like there was today.”

“It’s only one state, we should be fine.” You rest your head against his shoulder and fold your slice in half, sighing gratefully as you take another large bite.

The news winds down finishes just as you and Sam decide you’ve had enough to eat and toss the box onto the table. He clicks the television off and turns to press his nose into the crook of your neck.

“You smell so good,” he sighs, pressing a kiss to your soft, sweet skin. “You used that peach stuff again.”

“Mmm.” You giggle when he rolls on top of you, using his hips to wedge your legs apart. “I’m almost out.”

“I’ll buy you a new bottle,” Sam replies, one hand sliding down to feel under your nightshirt. “No panties?”

“Figured you might want to take advantage of us being alone for one more night,” you reply smoothly, “since we were both too tired last night.”

He smirks, leaning back to strip his shirt up and over his head. “I’ll make up for it, baby. Spread open for me.”

You obey, watching him tug the button and zipper of his jeans open. He strokes himself roughly, cheeks reddening as you pull your nightshirt off and throw it to the ground. You’re already responding to him, shining wet and swollen between your thighs. He watches you squeeze your breasts, teasing him with the sight.

“You really are somethin’,” he groans, rubbing the tip of his cock against your folds, lips parting when you reach down to touch him. He pushes your hand away, tangling your fingers together as he shifts closer. “Don’t,” he whispers, “lemme do it, baby.”

You chew on your lower lip, moaning softly as he presses against your entrance. He sinks in slow, watching your mouth open and your body quiver as he fills you deeper and deeper until his pelvis is tucked against the swell of your ass.

“Oh, Jesus…” he lets out a sigh and drapes his body over yours, resting his forehead against yours, “‘mega, you feel so good… so warm and soft.”

You wrap your legs around his waist, using your feet to shove his jeans down his thighs. He kicks them off, laughing when you have to shift with him, and then he plants his knees on the mattress, pins your hands on either side of your head, and gives you a good, hard thrust. Sam muffles your loud whimper with a kiss that makes your head spin.

“Be careful,” you whisper when he grinds his hips, “don’t make me sore like you did last time.”

Sam grins, remembering how you’d been almost bed-ridden the last time he’d had his way with you. “I won’t,” he replies, “I promise.”

His hands squeeze yours as he falls into a gentle rocking motion. He keeps a firm grip on your hands, kissing you hard until you can’t breathe as his hips keep your legs spread wide and open.

“Right there,” you moan, “right there, Alpha, please—”

A heavy grunt escapes Sam’s mouth when you squeeze around him, responding to the way he’d thrust against your sweet spot. “Fuck, ‘mega… so fucking wet.”

He gives a little twist of his hips, and your body arches up, rubbing against him in a way that makes his stomach clench. His lips seal at the base of your throat, sucking a bruise onto your skin. Your nails press into his buttocks, and he growls possessively.

“Harder,” you urge, “a little harder, Alpha…”

He gives you what you ask for, thrusting harder and deeper and making the smack of your bodies echo in the room. The bed rattles with the force of it, headboard tapping against the wall. You’re sure to raise a noise complaint, but Sam can’t give less of a shit. Anyone stupid enough to interrupt an Alpha in the middle of coitus is asking for their head to be ripped off.

He pulls his knees under him, lifts your thighs over his hips, and grabs hold of your waist. You like this angle more than anything, and he can watch your body bounce and ripple as he fucks you.

“Ohhh… yes…!” Your voice rises a half-octave as he fucks you closer to climax. “You’re gonna make me—”

He cuts you off with a loud growl, fingers surely leaving marks on your flesh. It almost hurts, how tight he’s gripping you, but you love it all the same. He doesn’t slow his thrusts as your orgasm mounts, crests, and comes crashing down. He holds you firm, not stopping even as you begin to squirm and whimper. He knows your body well—he’ll stop when he knows you can’t take any more.

“That’s it, baby,” he praises breathlessly, “I’m almost there…”

He barely manages a dozen hard, sweaty thrusts before his knot swells. He grinds in deep, coming back to lie over you, and lets go with a loud grunt. His orgasm comes hard and fast, and he rides the wave as long as he can before slumping over you and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“I love you,” he groans wearily. “There’s nothin’ I wouldn’t give to have you like this forever, y’know?”

You giggle and playfully slap his shoulder. “You’re such a sap.”

“For you.” He grins and lifts his head to kiss you. “I vote we spend a day in bed when we get home.”

“Definitely.” You squirm under his weight. “I could fall asleep like this.”

Sam chuckles, trailing a finger over your cheek. “Let’s clean up before you do that, yeah?”

You can’t help but laugh when he nuzzles the ticklish spot under your chin. “Fine… and maybe we should use the other bed to sleep in.”

He nods, stubble scraping across your skin. “I’ll second that suggestion.”

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FOREVER TAGS: @atc74 @crashdevlin @defenderrosetyler @daughterofthenight117 @emberocrpblog @emoryhemsworth @ellen-reincarnated1967 @fangirl-and-medstudent-help @fandom-princess-forevermore @heartsaved @kittenofdoomage @kickingitwithkirk @lovelyrocker @lunarsaturn88 @mariekoukie6661 @mrswhozeewhatsis @neii3n @nellachain @percussiongirl2017 @squirrel-moose-winchester @sea040561 @sammysnaughtygirl @spnwoman @serpentbaby @thecleverdame @tumbler-tidbits @thelittleredwhocould @winecatsandpizza @zombiewerewolfqueen @85natalie @4won

#alpha!sam winchester #alpha!sam x omega!reader #alpha!sam #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o fanfiction #18+ only

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novannna · 3 years

Text

Meet Me in the Dark

fjsdfkas definetly not posting my fic for wlw renegades event 1 right before the month ends

anyways here’s a gay rubell au!!! i got the prompt idea from here (5 ii)

@wlwrenegades event 01: get to know the members → [Kinley]

↳ [ “Don’t worry about it,” the girl said smoothly. She was a tall girl with blonde hair pulled back in a high ponytail. She wore a heavy down jacket, and cargo pants. A heavy knife hung off her belt. Ruby’s eyes widened. “Oh my god, I’m going to die!” ]

wc: 1467

Ruby hurried through the forest, arms pulled tight to her chest.

“Why did I do this?” She asked herself again. “It wouldn’t have taken too much longer to go on the streets,” she shivered.

Ruby only wore a short lilac dress with lace sleeves, and small sandals. She had nothing else, except her phone. Ruby shivered again. Why the hell did she choose to be lazy, and walk through the woods? She had been tired, and decided to cut a half mile off her walk by going through the dark forest. And now, she was definitely regretting that choice.

An owl hooted nearby, and the leaves rustled in the wind. Every tree seemed like some shadowy monster, ready to devour Ruby.

Ruby shrieked as she saw a human, standing still in the middle of a clearing. She gasped for breath, convinced they were a serial killer.

She cautiously neared it, phone raised up, as if she could defend herself with it. If it was a serial killer, Ruby was dead.

“Hello?” Ruby asked, her voice quavering in the dark shadows.

The person didn’t respond.

Ruby scooped a rock from the ground, and hurled it straight at it.

The rock bounced to the ground with a clack. It wasn’t a person. Just a very odd shaped rock.

Ruby laughed, half relief, and half hysteria.

Her mind was just jumping to conclusions. She was the only person dumb enough to be there. She was completely alone.

Ruby backed away, her panic quickly fading. Right until she crashed into a warm, soft object.

She crashed down to the ground. A pinecone dug into her knee and leafs scratched at her arms.

Ruby jumped upright.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” she said quickly. “I know this probably looks really weird, but trust me I’m normal!” Ruby laughed awkwardly. This was bad. They probably thought that she was a killer. “I uh, I was just cutting through the forest. I didn’t want to walk the extra half mile home.” She smiled. “You know how it is.”

“Don’t worry about it,” the girl said smoothly. She was a tall girl with blonde hair pulled back in a high ponytail. She wore a heavy down jacket, and cargo pants. A heavy knife hung off her belt.

Ruby’s eyes widened. “Oh my god, I’m going to die!”

The girl burst out laughing. “Where’d you get that idea?”

“You have a knife! You're in the woods at 2 in the morning! You look like you're dressed for murder! It’s what any sensible person would think!” Ruby backed away, holding her hands up. “Please don’t kill me, I’m too young to die!”

The stranger laughed again. “I’m not a serial killer. Relax.”

“That’s exactly what a serial killer would say!”

“I have a knife because it’s my father’s,” the girl said lightly. “I don’t go anywhere without it. Trust me, the most dangerous thing it’s been used for was when it slipped while I was whittling. And I was out here because tonight’s the last night of the Perseids.”

Ruby looked at her blankly.

She sighed. “The meteor shower?”

Ruby blinked. She had absolutely no idea what the girl was talking about.

The girl groaned. “Lots of shooting stars. I’m going to watch them.”

“Ohhh.” Ruby blushed. “I’m sorry I freaked out. It’s just… I’m not the bravest person.” She laughed. “I tend to get nervous.”

“Well, if you're out in these woods in the middle of the night, then you definitely aren’t a scaredy cat,” the girl said. “They even freak me out at this time, and I know them like the back of my hand.” She extended her hand. “I’m Danna Bell.”

Ruby smiled. “Nice to meet you, Danna. I’m Ruby Tucker.”

Danna grinned. “Nice to meet you too.”

“You come out here a lot?” Ruby asked.

Danna nodded. “As often as I can. I live on the outskirts of the forest. It’s practically a second home to me now.”

“Wow.” Ruby wished she could have a place like that for herself. “That sounds nice.”

“Yeah.” A ghost of a smile covered Danna’s lips. “It is.”

“Well,” Ruby said awkwardly. “I should get back home. Enjoy the shooting stars!”

Danna laughed. “Hey, if you want to, you can come with me. I promise I won’t kill you. It’s just, you’ve never really seen the night sky before, have you?”

Ruby scoffed. “Of course I have! I see it everyday.”

“In the city.”

“Well yeah.” Ruby crosses her arms. It felt like Danna was judging her.

“Trust me, you haven’t seen the real night sky.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Do you want to find out?” Danna held her hand out to Ruby. “I can show you if you want.”

Ruby hesitated, then placed her palm in Danna’s.

“I’d like that,” she said with a smile.

Danna grinned. “Follow me!”

---

Danna led them to a cliff high above a glittering lake. In the pale moonlight, Danna was absolutely breathtaking. Her brown skin was caressed in a gentle silver, and her blonde hair looked as if it was made of stardust.

“Oh, this is gorgeous,” Ruby breathed. “I don’t think I have ever not been able to see the city before. But here…”

“It’s just us,” Danna finished with a smile. “But you haven’t seen anything yet. Look up.”

And so she did.

Immediately, her breath hitched, and her eyes were caught in the gorgeous sky. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. The stars seemed to beckon her, begging her to come join them. All she wanted was to fly up, and dance among the glittering jewels of light. A sea of sparks were spread across the sky. Each star shimmered and winked against the inky black sky.

“Wow,” Ruby said in awe. “It’s incredible.”

Danna nodded. “There’s no light pollution here. Nothing obstructing our view. I wish it was like this in the city.”

“Me too.”

Ruby realized they had both inched together. They were probably both cold, Ruby told herself. That was all.

“Look!” Danna pointed out a long silver streak as it asked across the sky. “A shooting star!” She grinned at Ruby, and slipped her hand into Ruby’s.

Ruby blushed a deep red. She must have been imagining things. Right?

“What did you wish for?” Danna asked.

“Wished for?” Ruby tilted her head, confused. “What does that mean.”

Danna laughed. “Whenever you see a shooting star, you make a wish. And then, one day it’ll come true.”

“Oh.” Ruby looked down. She knew exactly what she wanted at that moment. “What did you wish for?”

��I can’t tell you. Otherwise it won’t come true.”

“But do you think it could?” Ruby tore her gaze away from the sky to look at Danna.

“Yeah,” Danna replied, meeting Ruby’s gaze head on. “I think it could.”

“Then what’s stopping you?” Ruby was intimately aware of the space between them. Or rather, the lack of space.

Danna bit her lip and pulled Ruby even closer. “Absolutely nothing.”

Ruby tilted her head back, and closed her eyes as their lips met. Sparks flew through her mind as Danna held Ruby tightly against her.

“What would you wish for?” Danna asked softly when they parted.

Ruby smiled. “This. I would wish for this.”

“Me too.”

Ruby laughed, but her teeth started to clatter.

“Are you cold?”

“A little,” Ruby said, shivering.

“Come on, sir down,” Danna said. She took her jacket off, and slung it around the two of them.

Ruby smiled gratefully, and snuggled her body tight against Danna’s.

“This may sound weird, but I’m really glad I scared you today,” Danna said.

“Me too.” Ruby smiled. “I was wondering… I know we’ve only known each other for an hour or two, but I really like you. Like… a lot,” Ruby said lamely. She cringed. Normally she wasn’t so bad with words.

“Me too.” Danna laughed softly, the sound making Ruby smile, and giving her courage.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me,” Ruby said quickly. “Like, y’know. Date each other. Be girlfriends.” Ruby cringed, waiting for the no to come.

Instead, Danna said, “I’d love nothing more.”

Ruby let out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad. Do you have a phone?”

Danna nodded. “Not with me though.”

“That’s okay. I’ll put your number in my phone, and I’ll text you when I get home.”

“What’s the rush?” Danna looked back at the sky. “The Perseids won’t be back for another year. We should enjoy them as much as we can.”

Ruby smiled. “I’d love nothing more.”

They both leaned back, and snuggled in as close to each other as possible.

Together, the two girls held their hands tightly intertwined as silver streaked across the sky high above.

Tag list: @novissa @thepurpledragon4444 @phobidawg @janisarkisian @rvbell @lavenderbloo @redassassin @berrybox (let me know if you want to be added/taken off!!!)

#rubell #wlwrenegades #renegades au #Renegades #danna bell #ruby tucker #they <333 #my gays showing sdkjfhagsfd i also have a novissa stargazing fic #whatever its v sapphic of them #my writing #Meet me in the dark #*renegade

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darks-ink · 4 years

Text

The Visit

As voted on for my 250 followers celebration, a sequel to Fangs!

Rating: K+ / Gen Warnings: Referenced character death; but it’s ok because it happened 15 years prior to canon (and the fic) and also they became a ghost and are totally fine with how things are now. Genre: Friendship/Family Words: 5,646 Relationships: Danny Fenton & Tucker Foley & Sam Manson (platonic) Additional Tags: Developing Friendships, Alternate Universe, Referenced character death, One shot, Fluff

[AO3] [FFN]

---

FentonWorks loomed over the rest of the buildings on the street, a mishmash of building and metal, topped off by the glaring neon sign. Tucker knew very little about the Fentons, besides what everyone said of them.

They’d been crazy about ghosts. Jack Fenton always was, beyond all sensibilities, and his wife had been the only restraint he’d ever known. After she died… It didn’t get any better, apparently. Tucker wouldn’t know, to be honest. It was before his time, Maddie’s death.

But that was why he was here, wasn’t it? Because he’d met Danny Fenton; a kid no one even knew existed. A kid that was, apparently, half-ghost. Born of his human father and his ghost mother.

Crazy. Absolutely crazy. There was no way it was real. Ghosts weren’t even real, never mind ghost-human hybrids. Tucker just had to go in, like he’d been invited to, and find absolutely no evidence otherwise. Which would be easy, because there wouldn’t be proof. Couldn’t be proof, because ghosts, of course, weren’t real.

A hand landed on his shoulder, and he definitely did not scream.

“What are we waiting for?” Sam asked, a grin clearly audible in her voice. “Scared, Tucker?”

He snorted dismissively, shrugging her hand off of his shoulder. “No. If it matters, I was waiting for you. So we could, y’know, go in together.”

“Oh, of course you were.” She grinned, knowingly. “Well, if that’s the case, we can go in, yes?”

“Uh,” he stammered, before straightening out. “I mean, yeah, of course. Let’s go get proof that ghosts aren’t real after all.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Whatever makes you feel better, Tuck.”

Together they crossed the street, hopped up the stairs to the door. He paused, hesitated for just the briefest moment, but Sam reached past him and rung the doorbell.

“Don’t run off now,” she chastised. Stepped back a little so she could stop him if he tried to run. “This is the make-or-break moment. Either you’re gonna find real proof of ghosts, or you won’t.”

“I’m not scared.” He tried to sound braver than he felt. He didn’t think he succeeded.

Sure, he didn’t believe in ghosts, but that didn’t mean he had to like what was happening here. He’d seen enough horror movies to be wary of this sort of stuff. Tucker Foley was no fool.

The door opened—not creaky, not silently, but with an ordinary amount of noise—and he jerked back to the moment. Danny stood in the opening, blinking at them for a short moment. Then he grinned, wide and bright. His eyes, the odd blue interlaced with almost unnaturally bright green, scrunched up in clear happiness.

“Sam, Tucker! I’m so glad you came by!” He stepped aside to let them in, and Tucker automatically entered. Sam followed right behind him, blocking the only exit. “I wasn’t sure if you, y’know, would come.”

“Of course we came.” Sam smiled back at Danny, nudging Tucker meaningfully. “We said we would, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, well, people say things all the time, don’t they?” Still, Danny’s smile didn’t falter. “Come on, my parents are down in the lab. You wanted to meet them, right?”

“Uh huh,” Tucker answered automatically. “Is there, uh. Anything we should keep in mind?”

Danny stopped to raise an eyebrow in his direction. “I mean, I don’t think so. Why? What were you thinking off?”

“Like, I don’t know.” Tucker shrugged somewhat aggravatedly. “Topics to avoid? Things you shouldn’t ask ghosts about, or whatever?”

“Oh.” The other boy put on a thoughtful expression, one finger tapping on his cheek. Tucker realized Danny had freckles—pale and tinged almost green, but there nonetheless. “Not really? Just, y’know, be tactful. It kind of differs per ghost, but Mom’s pretty chill about most stuff.”

Well, that was good to know. This way Tucker hopefully wouldn’t end up with an enraged ghost on his tail.

“Just making sure.” Tucker shrugged, trying not to look as tense as he felt. “Better safe than sorry, and all that.”

Danny hummed and continued walking, leading them into what appeared to be the living room. A large and comfortable-looking sofa sat along the wall, with two matching armchairs finishing the circle. A moderately nice TV sat on the other end.

“I guess that that’s fair,” he said, bypassing the couch for another open doorway. “You might want to be careful with some of the other ghosts, but you’ll be fine around my parents. Promise.”

“So you’ll introduce us to other ghosts as well?” Sam cut in, looking far too excited at the prospect. “Like some of the others you’ve mentioned? Ember, Kitty, those guys?”

“Maybe later.” Danny paused in the doorway, allowing Tucker to look past him. Ah, the kitchen? He thought they were going to the lab? “I don’t think it would be a good idea to bring you guys into the Zone so soon.”

“They never come here?” Sam continued to prod, even when Tucker nudged her to please stop talking. “You only ever see them while you’re there?”

“Nah, they come over all the time.” Danny continued walking again, crossing the kitchen towards one of the doors set in the walls that Tucker had assumed to be a storage closet. “But they haven’t mentioned coming over today, so.”

Sam followed Danny to the not-closet, and Tucker begrudgingly followed.

“That’s a shame. They sound like fun.”

“They are!” Danny shot them another brilliant smile, then threw open the door. Behind it laid a staircase leading down, the entire thing—and the walls and ceiling around it—plated in metal. That was… worrying. “They’re my friends, after all. Maybe another time, though.”

He started down the stairs, his shoes scuffing against the steel plating. The sound echoed dully in the room below them.

Why did the lab have to be in the basement, huh? Why couldn’t it be in that huge metal construction on top of the house?

Wait.

What was that enormous construction, if not the lab?

Tucker considered asking, but… maybe not. Maybe, in this case, he was better off not knowing.

Sam shoved him, and he almost fell down the stairs.

Right. Focus on the moment, Foley.

He shot her a venomous glare anyway, then set down the stairs. They really weren’t anything impressive; before Tucker knew it, he was down in the lab itself.

The room was enormous and, much like the stairs, made entirely out of metal. Shelves sprawled all along the walls, bar the wall furthest from the stairs. That one was suspiciously empty, with a complicated machine set next to large yellow-and-black blast doors.

Much of the floor space was similarly taken up by metal tables, covered in all sorts of gadgetry. Inventions of all kinds imaginable—and several not imaginable—covered their surfaces, in various states of assembly.

It was almost enough to distract Tucker from the fear he felt, somewhere deep inside him. Fear that had rared its head, suddenly, pointing Tucker straight towards Danny’s parents.

Not that they would’ve been easy to miss, anyway. Jack Fenton was, true to stories, an absolutely massive human being. Large in every meaning of the word, and clad in a bright orange jumpsuit.

Next to him was the real source of Tucker’s sudden paralyzing fear. A woman in a matching jumpsuit, smaller than Jack but making up the size difference by floating next to him. Her body seemed to glow, even under the harsh lights of the lab.

“Wow,” Sam breathed, having apparently joined Tucker in the lab. “Damn, Danny, what a space!”

Her voice was enough to startle the adult Fentons back to the present, as both twisted in their direction. Maddie’s—because the ghost had to be Maddie Fenton—eyes seemed to lock straight onto Tucker’s, like she could feel his fear. Hell, who knew! Maybe she could!

“Danny-boy!” Jack Fenton boomed, grinning widely at the three of them. Tucker could definitely see the family resemblance in that smile. “Who are your friends, kiddo?”

Danny started leading the two of them towards his parents, apparently choosing to ignore the unblinking stare of his mom. “These are Sam and Tucker. I mentioned them earlier, didn’t I?”

“The kids you met at school,” Maddie stated, cocking her head at Sam and Tucker. She’d looked almost human from far, but as they got closer, Tucker found more and more details that were… off, for the lack of a better word. Her brown hair, for example, was laced through with white. But it wasn’t just singular hairs, like when people went gray; the base of every single hair was white, shifting back to brown the further away from her skin they were. And her eyes, which he thought were hazel, were actually literally golden in color. Glowed, even, casting a yellowish tinge on the rest of her face.

“That’s us!” Sam cheerfully exclaimed, grinning up at the ghost. “And you’re Mrs. Fenton, right? Danny’s mom?”

Maddie stared at them for a brief moment, like she was scouring their souls for… for something. Then she smiled, soft and kind and warm and decidedly mom-like. “That’s me. And this is my husband, Jack.” She gestured over at him, like they could’ve possibly missed the man.

“Nice to meet you.” Tucker inclined his head, first towards her, then Jack. Now what?

Sam took mercy on him, leaning herself against his side. “Yeah, what he said. You two seemed like really cool parents, based on the stuff Danny’s mentioned so far.”

“Is that so?” Maddie stopped hovering besides Jack, instead floating closer to them. She drew her legs together, and they blurred into— into some sort of spectral tail. It curled languidly, the end twitching almost like a cat’s tail would. “Only good things, I hope?”

“Of course,” Tucker answered, hesitantly grinning. This was familiar territory—assuring overbearing parents that their kid wasn’t doing anything wrong. “He’s not gonna stop loving his parents just because y’all let him leave the house, you know?”

“Of course he isn’t!” Jack boomed once more, slinging a massive arm around Danny’s shoulders. “You love us, don’t you, Danny-boy?”

“Daaaad,” the boy groaned, exasperated. Rather than try to wrestle the arm away, he—

Faded into translucence? And then just… went through Jack’s arm?

Color returned to Danny’s body when he was away from the arm, and he blew a raspberry at Jack.

“Damn,” Tucker swore, nudging Sam. Make a joke about it, Foley. Make it easier to deal with. “Bet you wish you could do that with your parents, huh?”

She huffed, rolling her eyes, but couldn’t hide the faint smile. “They’re not that bad, Tucker.”

“I’ll be sure to remind you next time they’re slathering you with kisses, then.”

“Ugh.” She jabbed him with an elbow. “I hate you sometimes.”

“Aw, Sam, no.” He reached for his heart, dramatically. Normally he wouldn’t let it play out this far, not in front of like, actual parents and stuff, but… they looked like they needed the normalcy. Or, well, the suggested normalcy. Honestly, they looked stunned that Sam and Tucker were having a regular scuffle instead of making a big deal out of— whatever Danny just did. “You’re killing me, man.”

Oh. Uh.

Was that a bad thing to joke about with ghosts present?

Sam glared at him, apparently thinking so. Danny snorted, though, and Maddie didn’t lash out, so. Tucker would go ahead and consider this a victory.

He cleared his throat. “So, uh. Danny mentioned you had some cool inventions, and honestly, I would love to see some of those. If, uh, you don’t mind?”

Jack brightened. “Well, why didn’t you ask before? Of course we’ll show you! What’d you want to see?”

He scrambled out of the seat before Tucker could answer, bounding over to the other side of the lab.

“Um.” Tucker watched him go, stunned. How could a man that large move that quickly? “Danny mentioned like, a hovercraft? And jetpacks, but I think you were still working on those? That sounded pretty cool.”

“Well, the Specter Speeder is right over there,” Maddie said, gesturing over to a giant heap covered in a sheet. Her expression was carefully neutral, like she was trying to figure him out. “That’s probably the hovercraft Danny described. Jack and Jazz—our daughter—use it to traverse the Ghost Zone.”

Tucker looked over at her, hovering in the air. Then over at Danny. He was still trying to find a tactful way of asking the obvious question when Sam cut him off.

“So Danny can fly, just like you?”

He shot her a disappointed look, but she ignored it, staring at Maddie.

“I can do almost everything an ordinary ghost can,” Danny answered, bouncing a little excited. Probably didn’t get to talk about it very much.

Or maybe he was just happy they believed him.

“Fly, go invisible, go intangible—like I just did. All kinds of stuff!” He grinned at them. The expression was so abundantly happy that Tucker could almost miss the sharp fang-like canines. “Just not overshadowing, but that’s fine—I don’t like that power anyway.”

“Oh?” Sam cocked her head, eyebrows drawing together. Clearly interested. “Why not?”

Surprisingly, it was Maddie who answered. “Overshadowing is much like possession—or how possession is shown in media, at least. You take over a human host, puppeteering their body, and, if done well, they won’t even know it happened. Will have no memory of what happened, or any way to know what you did.”

“Most ghosts avoid overshadowing, anyway,” Danny added, his casual tone clearly forced. “They don’t like the concept of it, of losing control over one’s body like that. So I don’t mind that I can’t do it.”

“But why not?” Tucker asked, despite himself. So sue him for getting curious, there had to be some form of science behind this, right? Ghosts couldn’t just defy all common sense! “Is there something about you being a— a hybrid that’s stopping you?”

Maddie’s eyes narrowed, and her tail swept a slow arc. It reminded Tucker of the agitated twitching of a cat’s tail, but not quite as… angry, if that made sense? To him it did, somehow.

“We think so,” she said, slowly. She kept a steady gaze on him, like she was testing him with this. Testing his… opinion on Danny’s possible half-ghost nature, maybe? That would make sense, wouldn’t it? “We think that, because Danny’s body isn’t entirely ectoplasm, but half flesh, he can’t overshadow anyone. He has more trouble with intangibility than other ghosts, too, and that’s an essential skill for overshadowing.”

“Ah.” Tucker’s mind provided him with an entirely unnecessary vision of Danny turning tangible while inside another person. “Yeah, I can imagine not wanting to risk that, especially for a power you won’t use anyway.”

Danny nodded. “Exactly. Besides, my other powers are good enough. And it’s not like I need them to fight much—most ghosts are less likely to lash out because I’m only half ghost.”

“Really?” Sam hopped up on the edge of one of the tables, sitting down on an apparently empty corner. “You’d think that they would be more likely to lash out against someone only half ghost, rather than less.”

“Well, I know how ghost society works, so I’m not really an outsider.” Danny shrugged, leaning against one of the tables. His mom had floated off towards Jack, apparently no longer interested in the conversation. Maybe they had convinced her that they really didn’t mind Danny’s hybrid-ness. “And I can fight just fine—I’m not the strongest ghost, but not the weakest either. That all helps, I think.”

Sam opened her mouth to continue asking, but a loud clunk echoed through the lab. All three of them whirled towards the noise, finding the source to be Jack Fenton. Maddie floated next to him, holding up a large metal shell of sorts. Based on the fact that Jack was rubbing his head, it must’ve fallen down on him.

Maddie clicked her tongue, then gestured at the maybe-hovercraft near them. Jack pouted but nodded, trudging back in their direction.

What a family.

“Come here, kids, I’ll show you the Specter Speeder.” Jack underlined the statement with a sweeping gesture, like they weren’t already tracking his every move.

“Coming!” Danny pushed himself away from the table, racing over to his dad. Raced to such an extent that he made to leap over one of the tables that separated them.

The boy leapt, and then just… stayed airborne.

Man. Half-ghosts, am I right? Tucker really wasn’t ready to deal with this sort of madness.

Sam jabbed an elbow in Tucker’s ribs, and he startled. Took his eyes off of the other boy. Whoops, no staring, that’s rude.

The two of them wound their way to Jack as well, ignoring the fact that Danny was still floating in the air. Were they going to have to stop him from doing that in public? Was Danny going to fly over hurdles during gym instead of actually jumping?

It was like he’d accidentally befriended a comic book superhero. Did that make Tucker the sidekick? Or was Sam the sidekick, and was he the love interest?

He sure hoped not. Superhero love interests had an awful tendency to die, and he wasn’t sure if the involvement of ghosts made that better or worse.

No point in worrying about all that, though. Danny wasn’t even really a superhero, anyway. He didn’t even fight anyone!

Yeah, let’s just dismiss that whole train of thought and focus on the invention.

“This was the hovercraft, right?” Tucker asked when he and Sam joined Jack and Danny at the covered-up machine. “The… what did you call it? Speeder?”

“The Specter Speeder!” Jack enthusiastically corrected. “And indeed! This baby can carry us powerless humans safely through the Ghost Zone. Its outside is protective with blast-proof shielding, and it’s packed with all kinds of ecto-guns!”

He patted the machine, the sound echoing dully within the vehicle. Then he realized that they couldn’t really admire it while it was covered up and, without further ado, pulled off the cloth covering it.

Honestly? It was a very impressive machine. Tucker had heard some stuff about Jack’s inventions—and he’d seen the bizarre construction on top of FentonWorks—but the Speeder was nothing like all that. It was gorgeous. All smooth paneling and shiny metal, with a cylindrical shape and a rounded window that covered the entire front of the machine. Not to mention the enormous thruster-like engine on the back.

“Wow,” Tucker breathed. “That’s… Man, what a machine, Mr. Fenton.”

“How do you get it in the Zone, though?” Sam asked, ever the skeptic. “It looks too heavy to push.”

“Why would you push it?” Danny frowned at the two of them, then at the machine, then back to them. “It can fly, that’s kind of the point.”

“Even here?” Tucker looked at the machine again. It laid flat on the ground, perfectly horizontal. He could imagine it flying in a world with altered gravity, like he imagined the Ghost Zone to be, but here? “How?”

Jack laughed, cheery and explosively loud. It was Maddie who answered, floating in closer. “Ectoplasm is a rather incredible material. The Speeder is constructed mostly out of an ectoplasmic metal, which helps it defy gravity. It also serves as a very light-weight fuel, lessening the weight.”

“It’s also very explosive, which also makes it a great fuel!” Danny added cheerfully. “It’s a great source of energy. All FentonWorks machinery works on ectoplasmic basis—it’s a great renewable energy source!”

He chuckled. “It’s literally green!”

Both of his parents groaned. Tucker had the feeling that Danny made that same joke all the time.

“But isn’t ectoplasm the stuff ghosts are made out of?” Sam’s brows drew together, tension seeping into her shoulders. Oh boy, here they went again. “Isn’t that, like… animal cruelty? How do you get it?”

“It is the stuff ghosts are made out of,” Maddie said, with a gentle smile. “But only because the entire Ghost Zone is made out of that stuff. You can take it straight from the air. Most of our ectoplasm, we get from the Portal’s filter, which stops loose ectoplasm from seeping through. Without it, the presence of our Portal would contaminate the air and soil of the Earth.”

Tucker nudged Sam. “See? Perfectly cruelty-free. No sweat, man. Do they look like they melt down sentient creatures for weaponry, huh?”

“Right.” Sam shot him a venomous look back, but dropped it almost immediately to turn back to the Fentons. “Sorry. I’m… a big supporter of animal rights, and all that.”

“She’s a super-duper vegan,” he added helpfully. “Won’t eat any animal products at all.”

Maddie nodded, an understanding expression on her face. “Of course. But, yes, no need to worry. Our ectoplasm is exclusively atmospheric. If we weren’t using it, we would just be forced to dump everything the filter collects straight back into the Zone, so we might as well use it. As an energy source, it’s great—better than solar or wind, and just as safe for nature.”

“If you know what you’re doing, at least.” Danny grinned impishly, leaning on his dad’s massive shoulders. He still hadn’t stopped hovering. “Since it’s pretty explosive, and all that.”

“Which is why I’m usually the one handling the volatile ectoplasm,” Maddie said. “Us ghosts can handle ectoplasmic attacks a lot better than humans can.”

“Ghosts can take just about anything better than humans,” Jack pointed out. “Ectoplasm is a lot tougher than flesh, and you don’t have any organs to damage.”

Maddie grinned knowingly at Jack, who pouted back.

These two were entirely too much. One was a ghost and the other human, sure, whatever. But this? Nah, man. He already didn’t like it when his own parents were being sweet to each other, he really didn’t want to watch Danny’s parents do the same thing.

He turned to address Danny. “So how does that work for you? Since you’re a hybrid, and all that?”

“Well…” Danny slipped off of his dad’s shoulders, doing a completely unnecessary flip before landing on the ground. “I’m kinda in the middle for most stuff. I’m tougher than a human, but not quite as tough as a ghost. I’ve got all the ordinary human organs, but I also have a ghost core. There’s ectoplasm in my blood and my flesh, but no part of me is fully ectoplasm—besides my core, of course.”

“Is that why you were eating that weird glowy food?” Sam raised a single eyebrow. “It contained ectoplasm, right?”

“Yeah.” Danny shrugged, leaning back against the edge of a table. “Gotta keep up the ectoplasm levels somehow. Full ghosts can just filter it out of the atmosphere, and I can do it a little, but it’s not enough. I would need more ectoplasm in my body to filter out enough to sustain myself.”

“That sucks, dude.” That sandwich hadn’t looked appealing at all.

But then, maybe to Danny’s half-ghost brain, it looked differently? The glow and color were caused by ectoplasm, weren’t they?

“Eh, it’s not the worst.” Danny shrugged again. “Better than having to take it via needle or IV, which is the alternative. Or drinking straight ectoplasm, but that’s not very good for me, either.”

“Speaking of food,” Maddie interrupted, startling the pants off of Tucker—when had she stopped talking to Jack?, “Jack and I are going to start working on dinner. Sam, Tucker, are you staying over?”

Tucker opened his mouth to refuse, but Sam was, once again, too quick.

“Of course we’ll stay,” she said, smiling up at Maddie. “I should call home to let them know, though.”

“Uh, yeah.” Tucker cleared his throat, awkwardly. “So do I.”

Maddie nodded, before moving towards the stairs. She moved through the air like there was no resistance, nothing that could stop her. Fluid and graceful. No wonder that she never landed. Tucker didn’t think he would, either, if he could fly that easily.

Danny, on the other hand, was equally graceful in the air and on the ground.

Which was not very, Tucker realized, as he watched Danny trip on a table leg.

“There’s a phone in the kitchen.” Danny grinned up at them, having caught himself on the edge of the table he’d tripped on. “Unless you want to use your cellphones, in which case you’ll still need to get out of the lab. No signal down here.”

Tucker glanced over at the metal walls, the metal ceiling.

“Of course,” he said, watching Danny push himself back into a properly standing position. “That figures.”

They picked their way back to the stairs, Sam scaling them first. Tucker was about to follow her when a hand grabbed onto his shoulder and then pulled.

He stumbled backwards, and turned to snap at Danny—

who wasn’t there.

Tucker turned towards the stairs again, and then up. Danny was floating above the stairs with a sheepish grin.

“Sorry,” the boy apologized, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t think you would stumble if I did that—Jazz usually doesn’t.”

“Jazz probably knows to expect it and braces for it,” Tucker grumbled back. He wasn’t really all that angry—Danny had grown up too sheltered to realize, and that wasn’t his fault. “Just be careful, alright? I could’ve fallen and hit something.”

Danny started looking even more guilty, which made Tucker feel guilty, and boy. This was just brilliant.

“Seriously, it’s fine,” he added to try and break this circle of guilt. “You didn’t know any better. Come on, let’s just go upstairs.”

“If you’re sure…” Danny shot him a last worried look, which Tucker dismissed with a flap of his hand, before flying upstairs. Tucker waited for another moment before following on foot.

Sam had already found the phone and was now busy fending off her overly concerned parents. Tucker couldn’t hear what she was saying, but he could recognize that exasperated look from a mile away.

Rather than bother waiting for her to be done, he dug his cellphone out of his pocket and dialed his home.

“Good evening, Angela Foley speaking,” his mom answered.

“Hey Mom.” Tucker’s eyes wandered back to the scene in the kitchen. Sam was still arguing with her parents on the phone. Danny was worriedly hovering over her—literally. Danny’s parents, both human and ghostly, were quietly talking over the stove. “Sorry for the late call, but um. A friend asked if I could stay over for dinner, and Sam already said yes, so…”

His mom snorted. “Tucker, honey, you can just say that Sam wants you over to shield her from her parents.”

“Well, yeah, I know that.” Danny had floated even closer to Sam, and now had his hands wrapped around her shoulders. Someone should teach this guy about personal space. “Sam and I are over at a different friend’s place, and his parents asked us if we wanted to stay for dinner.”

“Oh?” He could hear his mom’s curiosity over the phone. They were gonna have a talk when he got home. “Who’s this, then? I thought everyone else in your class was “stupid” and “insufferable”?”

“He’s new.” Sam had apparently gotten tired of Danny’s clinginess, and was now fending him off with one hand. The other still held the Fentons’ telephone. “I’ll tell you when I get home, okay, but can I stay for dinner at least?”

His mom remained silent for a long moment, then sighed. “Of course you can stay, sweetie. I’m glad you and Sam are making more friends.”

Ugh, embarrassing. Good thing that no one was listening.

Or maybe they were, because Danny stopped flailing at Sam for just long enough to throw Tucker a look. Did ghosts have superhuman hearing? Tucker resolved to find out ASAP.

“Alright. Thanks, Mom. Love you.”

His mom laughed, softly. “Love you too, honey. Don’t be late, okay? And be safe.”

“I will,” he promised. “See you later.”

He hung up. When he looked up from his phone, Danny was grinning at him.

Then Sam swatted the boy in his face, and that wiped the grin off real quick. Danny spluttered at Sam. Sam held out a single warning finger, and Danny settled down again.

Ah. A fast learner, that one. It had taken Tucker weeks of bruised shins to figure out that Sam was a terrifying enemy, and generally not worth fighting.

He stuffed his cellphone back into his pocket, then wandered back over. Danny was pouting at him, curling into a sad ball.

It would look more pitiful if he hadn’t been floating. That kind of made the whole thing rather silly.

“Having fun with your parents, Sam?” Tucker asked, grinning at her wordless growl. Turning to Danny, he added, “My parents are fine with me staying over for dinner, by the way.”

That cheered the boy back up, and he shot Tucker another vicious grin. Well, it probably wasn’t intended as vicious, but come on. You can’t have a pleasant smile with those kind of fangs.

“Mom,” Sam snarled at the phone. “Seriously, it’s just dinner! His whole family is gonna be there. Chill out!”

Ah. It was one of those conversations.

Tucker gestured for the phone, and Sam handed it over without protest.

“Hey Mrs. Manson,” Tucker greeted before he’d even put the phone to his ear. “My parents were fine with me staying over for dinner with Danny, so I can walk Sam home afterwards, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Sam’s mom scoffed on the other side of the line. “Sammy doesn’t need you to walk her home, Foley.”

“Cool, so there’s no problem with her staying for dinner?” Tucker winked at Sam. “Thanks, Mrs. Manson, you’re the best.”

He could hear a sharp intake of breath. Knowing what that meant, he hung up before she could start yelling.

“I gotcha,” he told Sam, placing the phone back onto its holder. “But I think your mom hates me again.”

“I don’t think she ever stopped.” Sam grinned at him. “Thanks, Tuck. Ah, Danny, looks like I can stay over for dinner as well.”

“Um.” Danny blinked between Tucker and Sam, clearly confused. “Good?”

“Don’t worry about all that,” Tucker assured him. “Sam’s parents are… kind of overbearing and controlling. They dislike anyone who doesn’t meet their standards.”

“Their standards being rich and boring as hell,” Sam tacked on. “Seriously, they don’t approve of like, 90% of the people at our school. They’re just extra mad at Tucker and his family because they think that if I hadn’t befriended him, they could’ve stuck me with their rich friends’ kids.”

“Uh, okay.” Danny nodded like he understood, but his expression said that that absolutely wasn’t the case. Tucker couldn’t blame him. The Mansons were something else even if you were used to regular human society. To someone raised by ghosts and Jack Fenton, they were like an entirely different species.

“Oh, kids.” Maddie looked up from the stove, somewhere in the process of nudging Jack away so he couldn’t reach. “It might be a bit before this is done. Why don’t you go to the living room to wait?”

“Or my room!” Danny bounced with excitement over the prospect, the green sparks in his eyes brightening. Wow. They could do that? “That’s okay too, right Mom?”

She laughed obligingly. “Of course, honey. I’ll call when it’s done, okay?”

Danny nodded, then shot the both of them such a sparkly look that Tucker couldn’t have refused even if he’d wanted to.

Seriously, it had to be illegal to have puppy eyes that powerful.

---

Danny lingered in the doorway to the living room, throwing sad looks at Tucker and Sam.

“Sorry we couldn’t stick around longer,” Sam told him, nudging Danny gently.

“It’s fine,” he said, looking very much like it was not fine. “Sorry you didn’t get to meet the other ghosts.”

“We’ll just have to save that for next time, won’t we?” Tucker bumped Danny as well. “Seriously, dude, cheer up. We’ll see you at school tomorrow, yeah? No need to act like we’ll never meet again.”

The other boy shrugged listlessly. “I guess…”

“Seriously, man.” Tucker reached over to jostle Danny’s shoulder. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Why are you acting like we’re gonna disappear?”

“I…” Danny looked up, startled. “We’re friends? Still?”

“What do you mean, still?” Tucker looked back at Sam, but she looked as startled as he was. He turned back to Danny. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

“Well, just…” Danny gestured backwards at the rest of the house. Jack and Maddie were inconspicuously looking like they weren’t listening in, while Jazz was glaring at the both of them for doing exactly that.

“Danny, man, we already knew how crazy your family might be when we met.” Tucker grinned at him. “Seriously, you warned us, didn’t you?”

Sam crept in closer again. “Besides, if you thought that your family was crazy, wait until you meet mine. At least your craziness is fun.”

“Sam,” Tucker scolded, but Danny brightened up nonetheless. Turning back to him, Tucker added, “Anyway, we already said we were friends, didn’t we? It was the start of a beautiful friendship, and those don’t end so easily.”

“Right,” Danny agreed, a hesitant grin on his face. “Nothing beautiful about that.”

Tucker clapped him on the shoulder, then nodded at the definitely-not-listening Fentons. “Besides, who’s gonna do a better job of teaching you about school than the unseen nobodies?”

“Nobody?” Danny guessed, uncertainly.

“That’s right!” Tucker crowed, before turning to the door. “Seriously, we’ll keep an eye on you. Us invisibles, we take care of each other.”

Sam nodded her agreement. “Really, you’re not getting rid of us that easy, Fenton.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Danny assured them, grinning.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #tucker foley #dp fanfic #phanfic #phanfiction #dp fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #dark writes #i am so tired... let me sleep #thats (mostly) unrelated to the fic tho #i just slept like utter shite sunday night and havent recovered #hence why i held off on posting this until now #bc i didnt trust myself to give it a good read-through earlier

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blacklacefanfics · 4 years

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Raison D’Etre

Summary: It’s New Year’s Eve 2019- Crowley’s reflecting, drinks are flowing, and it’s the roaring 20s.

A/N: My GOmens Holiday swap gift for @idanit !! I wanted to incorporate the bookshop fluff, ineffable wives, some nice dancing, and the current holidays into this fic. It’s also been so long since I’ve sat down and wrote a fic this long, so I’m hoping that you like it!

Crowley pulled up outside of the bookshop, her Bentley rattling to a slow stop. Driving through SoHo on the night of New Year’s Eve wasn’t anyone’s idea of a good time, but she had promised to meet Aziraphale up before midnight and she wasn’t one to be late- when meeting her angel, anyways.

People bustled past on the sidewalk, already loud and buzzing an hour before midnight. It wasn’t a scene that Crowley was unfamiliar with, but the crowds every year around this time could be massively overwhelming even for a demon.

She grabbed the brown bag and glasses from her car and sauntered towards the bookshop, miracling the handle unlocked and knocking her hip against the door to swing it open. The bell above jingled happily.

“Angel-”

“A moment please!” Aziraphale called from the back room. A rustle of books and papers a moment later, and she came to the front with a smile on her face. “Crowley! You said you would be a while.”

“Figured I’d be early tonight, y’know? And I come bearing gifts.” Crowley smiled and held up the glasses and bag.

“Lovely!” Aziraphale beamed, glancing downward. “Crowley, what on Earth are you wearing?”

“You don’t like it?” Crowley glanced down at herself- a black button down, silver tie, black pants and suspenders. She swept her red hair over her shoulder. “I thought it was rather fitting for the ‘Roaring 20’s’ and all that.”

“Just not your usual fashion- bit outdated.”

Crowley snorted a laugh.

“Really? Says the one who can’t lose the tartan.” Crowley teased, pulling Aziraphale towards her by the waist, arms wrapped around her.

Aziraphale blushed, smacking at her hand. “You shush! Tartan is stylish. Everyone knows that.”

“Your outfits are a few decades old for even the 1920’s, angel, get used to it.” Crowley laughed, letting her pull away. “Do you want my gift or not?”

“Of course. What did you bring?”

“Champagne. For the new year.”

“Oh!” Aziraphale smiled, taking the wine. Crowley set the glasses on the table. “1995 De Venoge Cuvee Louis XV Brut. Very fancy.”

“Only the best.” Crowley winked, taking the bottle and popping it and pouring a glass. “Figured it was an important year, might as well do it right.”

“I thought we were going down to central London this year?” Aziraphale questioned, taking a glass. “Perhaps it’s not a good idea to drink it now if you’re driving us down there.”

“Well,” Crowley said, pouring herself a tall glass and taking a sip. “I figured that we could stay here. Just this time. Maybe go out next year.” She sidled up against Aziraphale again and wrapped her arm around her waist.

“Oh?” Aziraphale smiled up at her. “Just us, then?”

“Mm.” Crowley pulled herself flush against Aziraphale. Aziraphale blushed.

“You’re awfully touchy tonight, Crowley.” She smiled shyly, sipping her glass.

“It is a special occasion, after all.”

“What makes this one more important than the others? We’ve never really celebrated before, have we?” Aziraphale tilted her head.

“Just important, s’all.”

Aziraphale looked up at her. She reached up with her hand and gently caressed Crowley’s face.

“I’m very happy to spend this time with you, my dear.” She said, gently taking off Crowley’s glasses. “We’ve had quite a run of it the past few months. I hope you can forgive me wanting to see you properly.”

Crowley hitched a breath and fluttered her eyes as the glasses were removed. Her gold eyes flickered over Aziraphale’s face and she noticed finally that the bookshop was actually quite dark, save for a few soft lamps and a fireplace in the corner. Had that always been there?

“I don’t mind.” She swallowed, suddenly stepping back. “I, um…” Her face reddened suddenly and she laughed nervously. “I may have had a couple of drinks before coming over.”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale scolded. “You drove!”

“I held it off until now, angel. Don’t worry.” Crowley scoffed, waving off her admonishments. The room wobbled just under her feet, and she thought perhaps chugging a bottle of cheap whiskey was a bad idea.

“Why would you do that and still bring something to drink?” Aziraphale prattled on nonetheless, leading Crowley to the couch and sitting her down.

“Because it’s a party tonight, angel! The one night all the humans are out getting drunk and celebrating surviving another year, shouldn’t I get to?”

Aziraphale gave her a reproved look and rolled her eyes.

“You’re impossible. I hope you know that.”

“It’s one of my many charms.” Crowley smirked up at her, itching to grab her glasses off the table and slide them back on. It was hard to resist, even when up against Aziraphale’s wishes.

Aziraphale huffed.

“Well, if we’re going to be in drinking all night, I’m going to put on some music.” She sauntered over to her dusty old phonograph- one Crowley was very fond of making fun of- and flipped through her collection of vinyl. Much of it was Crowley’s choice of music, anyways, but this record she picked up especially for tonight. She played it on the player and adjusted the needle. A quick trumpet solo flowed out, followed by instrumentals.

“I don’t recall getting you this album.” Crowley teased, moving to the side for Aziraphale to sit on the couch as well. She sat in the middle, effectively closing Crowley up against the corner of the couch.

“You didn’t. I picked it for this evening. I know it’s not your usual style.”

Crowley listened for a moment and finished off her champagne.

“Louis Armstrong. How appropriate for the evening.”

“Well, humans only were able to record music for the past century or so. I figured it’d be nice to get a little nostalgic.”

Crowley looked over at her and smiled, laughing a bit.

“A hundred years is nothing, angel.”

Aziraphale smiled back.

“Perhaps. But New Year’s is meant to be a time of reflection. What we’ve accomplished, what we haven’t.”

She went quiet and looked away. Crowley felt her chest ache in a most familiar way.

It had been quite the year- quite the decade. Years and days usually pass without any thought to them, considering they’ve seen multiple millennia. However this decade- and this year- were the culmination of everything they experienced. Adam’s birth only eleven years ago. Crowley’s stint as a nanny to raise the Destroyer of Worlds and Aziraphale’s governess position to try to influence him to be “good.” Yes, it was the wrong child, but that was not the point. The point was that this year the humans wouldn’t see the new year. No new decade, no new century. Not after all of this.

But because of one mistake (the jury is still out on where it all went wrong), they had managed to.. do what, exactly? Yes, the world was saved and they didn’t technically get directly involved. It was still their heads on the chopping block at the end of the day- and they still had to stay safe, lest their trickery gets discovered.

The record skipped as it switched to a new instrumental track, this one slower than the previous. Crowley stared at Aziraphale’s profile, the lamplight encompassing her like a halo. Humanity had always been about moving forward, progressing. That had been what they wanted to protect the moment they faced their respective ex-bosses at the airbase that day. Heaven and Hell knew nothing of that. Always stagnant, stuck in the same spat from before time was even created.

Crowley wanted to move forward. Always wanted it. Wanted it back in Eden, as she first approached the Angel of the Eastern Gate, and wanted it half a century ago, as Aziraphale handed her the thermos of Holy Water. Aziraphale was always slow-going. Wary. Scared of making the wrong move, and scared of being tempted from her duties.

What duties remained now? Nothing. They took their orders and threw them out the window in the midst of the apocalypse. Aziraphale was on their side, as was Crowley. Maybe she was ready to move, too.

“It’s also about progress.” Crowley tilted an eyebrow at her point. Her glass magically refilled. “What to look forward to now that they’ve survived it all. Isn’t that the point?”

Aziraphale looked her in the eye, her blue eyes striking compared to the warm yellow light.

“Yes. They always move forward, even at the end of the world.” Aziraphale stared down at her glass with a small smile. “I suppose that’s why we fell in love, right?” Aziraphale fluttered a look at Crowley. “With the world, I mean.”

The record skipped again right in time with Crowley’s heart. The soft trumpet poured out from seeming all directions, and Hanshaw’s voice flowing around them.

I'm Flying high,

but I've got a feeling I'm falling…

Aziraphale and Crowley locked eyes.

Falling for nobody else but you…

God, Crowley wanted to move forward.

Crowley knocked back her full glass of champagne and stood quickly, startling Aziraphale.

“What are you-“

“D’you want to dance?” Crowley sputtered out quickly.

Aziraphale lifted her eyebrows in surprise before settling into a please smile. She set her glass down and stood, approaching Crowley. It suddenly occurred to her that she had never properly danced before.

“Let me show you.” Aziraphale reassured and seemingly reading her mind, taking her hand and leading to a space devoid of books. She linked hands with Crowley, swinging them back and forth. “I may have learned a thing or two back then.”

Crowley watched her movements closely and mirrored them, swaying to the rhythm and back again. Aziraphale let go with one hand and twirled inwards to Crowley’s arms. Her tartan dressed swirled around her knees and her blonde curls bounced along with her dancing.

“It’s called swing dancing.” She twirled back out and brought herself back in, holding her arm around Crowley this time and waltzing in time to the music. “I remember that they had only this back then. Music, dancing, and each other. Before their own world betrayed them.”

They fell silent again and swayed to the song, both deep in thought. The record skipped again- this time back to Armstrong.

When you're smilin’ Keep on smilin’… The whole world smiles with you…

Something heavy fell to the pit of Crowley’s stomach and she stilled. Aziraphale pulled back to look at her, moving her hand up and stroking Crowley’s face gently.

“Everything alright?”

Crowley nodded and suddenly felt choked up.

“Oh, Crowley.”

“No, it’sss fine.” Crowley insisted, wiping at her eyes. “I just hate slow songs.”

Aziraphale gave her an incredulous look, but still held her close. She laced her hand with Crowley’s and leaned their foreheads together.

“Crowley, I should say that I don’t have regrets about the past year.”

Crowley breathed out.

“You don’t?”

“No, I don’t.” Aziraphale pulled back and looked at her. “I’m glad we stopped the Apocalypse. I’m glad we’re on the same side. I’m glad we helped save the world.”

“More or less.”

Aziraphale laughed. “More or less.”

Crowley smiled.

“And, for what it’s worth,” Aziraphale continued, “I’m glad this New Year’s is important. If anything, it’s proven that we have much to live for. Our raison d’etre. Don’t you think?”

Crowley nodded slowly. Noise suddenly filtered into the bookshop over the music, quickly being realized as the sound of many drunk people out in the streets.

“I believe they’re counting down.”

“Do you want to go out and join them?” Aziraphale asked, cocking her head to the side.

“Not really.” Crowley couldn’t take her eyes off Aziraphale’s- and why would she? Her raison d’etre was right in front of her. She received a smile in return and the bookshop filled with flickering lights. Multiple colors bounced off Aziraphale’s pinned hair and cheering drunks stumbled past the outer windows.

Crowley leaned in slowly, then all at once as she connected her lips with Aziraphale’s. Aziraphale clasped Crowley’s face in her hands and kissed back fervently as they pressed into each other. Fireworks echoed across London just as butterflies exploded in Crowley’s belly.

Aziraphale pulled back after a moment and breathed, a smile breaking across her face.

“I’ve waited hundreds of years to do that.” She beamed.

“I waited thousands.” Crowley smiled, diving back in to kiss again at her angel’s surprised face. She kissed alongside her mouth and up her cheek. Aziraphale laughed.

“You could’ve said something, you naughty serpent!”

“But the anticipation was so sweet, wasn’t it?” Crowley teased. She dropped her hand down to tangle with Aziraphale’s again.

“Only because I am free to love you as I always have.” She responded, rubbing her thumb across Crowley’s reddening cheek. Crowley wanted to damn the charm that made her weak at the knees, but found she really couldn’t. Or even wanted to, really.

“Perhaps we should make a toast?” Aziraphale prompted. She poured the glasses once again and handed one to Crowley. “To the New Year.”

“To saving the humans.”

“To new beginnings.”

Crowley raised her glass at Aziraphale. “To the world.”

Aziraphale followed in kind, clinking her glass against Crowley’s.

“To us, and what the future may bring us.”

Crowley met her eyes and Aziraphale smiled. A new warmth flowed through her and she smiled back.

“To us.”

Songs mentioned:

West End Blues Louis Armstrong

I’ve Got a Feeling I’m Falling Annette Hanshaw

When You Smile (The Whole World Smiles With You) Louis Armstrong

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #goodomensholidayswap #gomensholidayswap #goholidayswap #goholidayexchange #gosecretsanta #mine

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ngame989 · 5 years

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Starco Fic Recs

Disclaimer: This list is largely curated to my own personal preferences (minimal feelings angst, minimal AUs, character development >>> plot) and has a fairly high bar for quality in characterization, etc. There will likely be many popular/beloved fics that I really don’t think highly of at all and therefore don’t make the cut. Feel free to DM me things you think I should consider adding, but I make no promises.

And of course I’d be flattered if you gave my own works a chance - stop by my About Me section for links! Thus far I’m particularly proud of the post-canon series I just started in collaboration with an awesome team, The Greatest Gift.

(Updated 9/26 - I decided to redo the list since people might appreciate seeing it in the tags again. To anyone whose own work is featured here that I haven’t personally responded to - I’m a tough critic with a lot of strong personal preferences so PLEASE do not take my gripes as condemnations of your skills - if they make the list at all, I think they’re worth a read!)

See below for the very thorough list!

Bolded titles indicate must-read.

Italicized titles indicate work is incomplete (in the case of continuous stories).

Asterisks indicate new additions from last update (3 for brand new, 1 for status update).

I’ve VERY loosely organized the categories by personal priority order this time around, but read the descriptions and decide for yourself!

Must-Reads

Forevermore - A Starco wedding story (with a bit of Jantom as well). Simply one of the best fics I’ve read in the fandom. I have no meaningful criticism to give it, and that’s the highest praise I can possibly give something.

Monarchs of Mewni (+ Traditionally Lovingly Yours) - A series of chronologically disconnected oneshots set years after the show. The backstory is very dated given how long ago it started (Jarco was kinda serious for a few years, Tomstar v2 never happened, etc) but overall it’s lovely. Has a bit of plot, a bit of Jantom, a lot of other character interactions, and a boatload of Starco - plus a Starco kid who is a decently developed character but also doesn’t just take over and crowd out Star and Marco themselves! That alone deserves merit.

Ruined - Aftermath of a hypothetical return of Monster Arm. Angst with a happy ending (and one of the few angsty fics that gets my seal of approval), so read this extra early if that’s more your schtick than mine.

study buddies - Y’know what, fuck it, I’m putting this here. It’s a short ball of Starco fluff but it’s one of the sweetest and fluffiest fluffballs I’ve seen in a long time and it’s very emotionally immersive and y’all needa read it.

*When Two Worlds Collide - One of my favorite postcanon series thus far. I admit I’m really not big on “magic returns!” plots in postcanon (which this has), and the sections that focus on that are hit or miss for me, but overall it has some of the funnest and cutest characterization and gags I’ve seen in any SVTFOE fic, ever. Absolutely worth following (and it has a fair amount of art to go along with it!)

***Star Chef - Oneshot (two chapters, so twoshot technically?) set in the same universe as Starlight Justiciar (see below) and is just a day in the life of Star and Marco. Goes absolutely above and beyond at emotional immersion and little nuances and details to bring the world and characters to life, which elevates it to something special to me.

Light of the Sun and Stars - (Promoted to Must-Read!) One of the few heavily divergent AU fics I care for. Marco is an orphan raised by monsters, and meets Star after running away. Just finished its “first season” and I've loved the recent chapters, am very excited to see where it goes.

*Don’t You Let Me Go - Wonderfully fluffy post-Cleaved Starco, one of my favorite oneshot “epilogues”.

i want to tell you (but i don’t know how) - Post season 3 fic detailing the growth of Star and Marco’s relationship. It’s spectacular writing and shows off a lot of the true depth of Starco beyond just being cute.

Adult - NSFW warning, non-explicit (aged-up characters). It’s a story about the journey towards Star and Marco’s first step into adulthood together - it’s not graphic and way more focused on the emotions involved, but it still is definitely more explicit than your average FFnet rated-T fic. If sexual themes ain’t your thing, I totally respect that, but this is a charming and funny piece of writing.

Lawchan’s various oneshots - There isn’t a great compilation for them right now so the best I can do is give you her tag for it and you can comb through it yourself. I like some more than others here, but they’re all very well-written - my only gripes with some of them are my own tastes in subject matter, so have fun perusing this on your own.

I Will Always Be There For You - A really pure and wholesome Starco oneshot. Very well-written.

Post-Canon Series to Follow

I figured with the show being over, and so many people starting their own series, I should include a lot of them here even if I’m personally not the biggest fan just to help gather them up so people can decide for themselves. Little bit looser on judgment here.

*Life on Earthni A to Z - Non-chronological postcanon slice of life oneshots, Starco and some Globclipsa and Jantom. Overall really good so far, one of my favorites in terms of direction.

*When Dimensions Cleave (sequel - Unforgettable Getaway) - Another postcanon series hellbent on bringing back magic queen lore, but it has some solid Starco fluff still. Credit where it’s due, the “Star constantly freaking out over what a horrible person she was” bit that I called preachy in the prior rec post gets somewhat less preachy and does end up actually going somewhere as part of character development, but I’m left scratching my head at how they all act sometimes. The good parts are certainly good, though, and in terms of quantity of lovey dovey Starco, it really can’t be beat (especially the sequel) and that’s worth something by itself.

We’re a Miracle - Extra adorkable postcanon fluff. Lighter on the “but ACKSHUALLY MAGIC IS BACK” stuff compared to the others, but it’s there, like almost every postcanon fic in existence.

Star vs the Sands of Time - Heavy politic/lore postcanon fic, not my fav but if that’s more your thing then great. Has some casual Starco too.

Goodbye Isn’t Forever - More POV dives into Cleaved.

Fake Proposal - Some decent jokey but cute fluff

The Stars Above - Some exploration of Earthni

New World - A bit over-the-top meta, but fun fluff

The Starlight Justiciar - Four years after canon, some social change plot stuff and some decent Starco. Not the biggest fan of some of the plot stuff but check it out for yourself!

Starco vs the Forces of Evil - Another collab fic/art thing. Fair warning, I really am not personally a huge fan of a lot of the characterization and plot decisions here (see my notes on Sign of the Moon waaaay down below) but decide for yourself, don’t let my pickiness dictate your own preferences!

Ready For The Future - Technically a oneshot (with some Starco) but sets up some Mina plot, if you’re interested in more give it a follow/review.

Worlds Together - Some Starco and exploration of Earthni.

Epilogue - Some Starco and exploration of Earthni.

***A Dark Horse - Has a few really nice lovey dovey Starco bits but also lots of superdrama with politics stuff. There’s a lot of fics here that I honestly just windowshop the scene I like for a quick fix of dopamine every now and then and skim at most otherwise, and this is one.

Revolution - end of canon AU where Moon is as anti-monster as Mina, dark as fuck. Only putting it here cuz some of y’all angstlords might like it.

Shorter Works/Oneshot Collections

I’ll Carry Your World - Big ole’ ball of wonderful Starco fluff with an important moment between them (written before end of show so a bit divergent).

***LoveIsTheStrongestKindOfMagic - Very short and basic fluff.

Starco Week 5 (Hugs Included) - Some of it is postcanon Earthni oneshots and others are from the Light of the Sun and Stars AU (see above). Great author, fun as hell writing style.

Fragile - Star worries about keeping her boyfriend Marco safe.

Complete - An older Star reflects on her past and present. Short and sweet.

Knighthood - Simple fluff piece on if Star and Marco got together after Storm the Castle.

Too Hot to Move - Star and Marco try to survive a heat wave on Earthni. Also funny fluff.

Marco Make-out Mayhem - Star really likes kissing Marco. Funny fluff.

Cleaved Together - NSFW warning, non-explicit (aged up) - Star and Marco’s first time. Very very overly focused on the whole purity/sacredness of first time thing, but still pretty cute.

Like Us - Really nice, sweet casual reflection on her life with Marco from a future Star’s POV.Toothpaste Kisses - Short fluff about its title.

A Friend’s Memento - Starco fluff with some reflection on the results of destroying magic

Plum Pie - Some goofy antics and hurt/comfort.

Not Losing You - A little dive into Marco’s POV at the end of Cleaved. Also adds a kiss.

We Belong Together - More speculative slightly angsty comfort/fluff.

Enough - A nice study of the emotions and thoughts during the last scenes of Cleaved, adds some depth to it.

Heartless - A bit of angst over magic going away with some sweet Starco comfort.

Together - Post-Cleaved Starco megafluff.

My Prince - Starco fluff set in a world where they were together before Cornonation.

Dancing with a Star - Starco fluff from alt S4.

Love in the Time of Pancakes - Written hours after my last update of the list, another little ditty based on the pancake promo.

Pancakes - Fluffy S4-promo-based little oneshot.

Hers - Hurt/comfort/confession-y fic, has some really nice moments and shows off a lot of how much they care about each other. Nice to see after such a drought.

Someone to Stay - Another hurt/comfort fic, nice and simple.

A Viola, a Violin, and a Butterfly’s Sword - some nonlinear oneshots about Starco. Some kinda weird directions gone in with the “plot” but it’s pretty good overall.

Falling - One of many, many fics from throughout the fandom’s history about Star and Marco getting together. Short and sweet.

forget about white horses & once upon a time - Drabble collection of various moments scattered throughout Star and Marco’s lives. Cute fluff.

The One Where I Thought I Lost You - Post-BFM fic where Marco realizes his feelings for Star earlier. Very wholesome.

christmases when you were mine - Established relationship fluff.

lightning in your veins, thunder in your heart - Post-season 3 established relationship fluff (slightly divergent, written before 3B).

once upon a december - Established relationship fluff.

Flags - Alternate rendition of the episode “Flags” with Starco.

Spells and Hot Chocolate - Wintry fluff.

5 Ways to Say ‘I Love You’ - Post BFM with some events in Star and Marco’s lives.

You’re My Wish Come True - This is just indulgent Starco trash. I won’t even argue for the characterization/writing quality, this is just a straight-up guilty pleasure.

Wands and Nachos - ^

The Princess and the Safe Kid - ^

A Day in the Life of Starco - ^

A very Starco Xmas - ^

Could It Be -^

All the times Star wore Marco’s hoodie - ^

Protect Me, Squire - ^

Crushed - Star and Marco both get turned down by their respective crushes and find comfort in each other.

Stay - Cuddly fluff. There’s another Stay out there which I frankly can’t stand with will-they-won’t-they melodrama out the wazoo, so don’t get confused.

Longer Series

*The Inescapable Us - Really tropey miscommunication will-they-won’t-they type of thing. Not my fav, especially now that the show is over and finished that leg of Star and Marco’s story once and for all (I’m personally WAY less interested in things that redo something canon already did). However, where it’s at now has some really good Starco moments. Fully admitted that I hella skimmed most of it until the parts I enjoyed, but And if you’re more fine with that type of thing then you’ll probably really like it, it’s well-written otherwise.

Together We Fall - Throwback S2 AU fic where Star and Marco go to the dance together instead and Toffee makes moves earlier. Gets kinda dark but has a lot of nice Starco along the way.

Safer, Sorrier - A recent rewrite of an older fic, Better Safe Than Sorry, where Star has to leave early to become queen and Marco is alone for a few months before they reunite. A very dated premise (post season 1 ish) but quite good.

Sugar and Spice - NSFW warning, non-explicit (NOT aged-up characters). In this fic, Star and Marco have gotten together after BFM, and a spell gone wrong leads to Mewberty relapses with obvious consequences. This fic has adorable Starco moments, but what I love this for above all is the other character interactions (especially Glossaryck and Star’s parents). This is probably a controversial add-on to the list, but I stick by my decision - if the subject matter isn’t your thing, then by all means avoid it.

Beyond Dimensions - Plotfic + established Starco where some ancient sorceress has to trap Star to escape and try to take over Mewni. Maybe y'all are more into plot stuff than me but the Starco that’s there is quite good regardless.

Starfall - NSFW warning, explicit (aged-up characters). Probably the most popular one to make the cut. Star and Marco are forced apart and have to find their way back together. Very old fic, lot of dated stuff here, and the narration and plot itself can get kinda questionable sometimes, but it has a lot of good Starco and some interesting plot elements that make it, in my opinion, worth a read despite a lot of flaws. A few epilogue chapters contain rather explicit sexual content, so be wary of that (and the epilogue itself after Ep 6 kinda transitions into a nextgenverse, so maybe just skip that entirely).

The Star Butterfly Effect - The sole fic on the list that is purely plot-based, with very little actual Starco development whatsoever. I can’t even really explain it, just give it a shot and see what you think; I was rather engrossed by the plot, and that’s rare for me.

The Princess and her Knight, Return of the Empire The former fic in this series is way more character-based, while the latter is very heavy plot stuff. Pretty decent character writing with some fluff. There’s a third that I honestly can’t recommend because I completely dropped it because it was just a nonstop war story.

Experimental - REALLY heavy, dark AU where Star and Marco are tortured and corrupted. It’s pretty decent.

Blood Moon Blitz - Alt BFM fic of Marco going to fight Toffee with Star. unfortunately dropped without completing, but what’s there is pretty solid.

Read at Your Own Risk…

The Sign of the Moon, The Dance of the Stars - Starts post-3A, involves the growth of Star and Marco’s relationship as they take on foes in and out of the castle and learn more about the Blood Moon. This series is rather… melodramatic, and there were some chapters and character interactions I flat out did not enjoy reading. But some people aren’t as strict on character interpretations as I am and would love such a long plot-based Starco fic, so overall I still will at least list it and let you decide for yourself. There might be a third entry in this series now, but I dropped it before then.

Photos - I hesitate to include this one here because the “Tom is a perfect angel who must sacrifice his love for Star” thing pisses me off. But just skip all that (and ignore the random “a part of me will always love Tom” line) and it’s a really nice post-s3 confession fic.

#starco #svtfoe #star vs the forces of evil #fanfic #ngame

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