#Mine prequel fic here we come!!

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Tumblr WILL NOT let me post the fic and this ask at the same time and I've tried legit five times. So THANK YOU anon for the request and I'm sorry for the weirdness in uploading. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this!

My Ghost.

Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: You don't know what happened that night. Things were fine, life was good, then your partner is on the news for all sorts of shit you never would've thought him capable of the day prior. He was dead, he was evil, and you were trying to move on. But what's the proper etiquette when the dead show up on your door unannounced?

Tags: No use of Y/N, hurt/comfort, fake death, mentions of drinking, drug use/dealing, grieving, arguing, cursing, flashbacks, brief suggestive scenes, suicidal thoughts.

Other Works in This Series: 'Repentance' (Prequel to 'My Ghost') • 'Lapses' (Sequel to 'My Ghost')

Notes: The way I've been trying to upload this for two hours. Oh my fucking God. Anyways, everyone say thank you to anon for getting me to write something that doesn't make God cry.

-¤°》◇《°¤-

I'm not hard to please, but I'm not desperate despite what the rumors may say.

People enjoy gossip. People who don't know fuck all about you. And my standards are fine. Were fine. And I don't mean standards such as 'buys me flowers everyday' or 'doesn't deal coke.' I mean standards such as 'is a decent fucking person.'

"That's what I thought you were up until all of this fucking... disappearing for months!" I scream, anger fueling me. I don't let the other emotions win out, don't let them have a say. Because if I do, I'll be too conflicted and overwhelmed and then I'm gonna cry, and that's not fair.

People had warned me he was trouble. Terms such as 'wannabe cowboy,' 'rebel without a cause' were tossed around in warning. But to me, he was just Billy.

Then he was dead.

Now, he was here. He showed up at my door nine months after leaving me with a small little keychain on the kitchen table and a soft kiss on my forehead, saying he had some plans for that evening. But he'll be back soon.

Then he was on the news. And a gas station blew up. Gangs, stolen vehicles. He was probably dead. Things would be easier if he was dead.

Fine. Maybe I initially ignored warning signs. Maybe I was distracted by his handsome side profile, too busy admiring his nose to notice the occasions it was dusted with the trace of a fine powder. Maybe his hands were too beautiful for me to realize they were slipping money to men in dark jackets when we went out to the rougher parts of town. But he was mine and I was his, and overall he was a good person.

He was alive. He was alive and I was mad because if he was dead then at least it would be valid that for nine months I have had to deal with the accusatory stares of our neighbors assuming I knew, the pity from my loved ones, and the betrayel that kept me awake at night. It would mean he hadn't left me to deal with his repercussions, that maybe there was a valid excuse. An undiagnosed brain tumor that finally gave way to insanity, a gun to his head. Something that was not the worst case scenario of just... being an awful person. I could let his things rest around the house undisturbed, hiding from the world and waiting to find the courage to join him one day and living in denial in the meantime. What the fuck was all of this?

"I couldn't tell you," he keeps saying. "It was better if you knew nothing until I was sure I could come get you."

"Why didn't you just take me with you from the start?" I ask. I've been pacing the floor for the past twenty minutes ever since he showed up. It was better than throwing every breakable object in the cheap, worn down shack of a house at him, which was my second instinct. My first was to pull him into my arms, draw the curtains shut and hide him away so that he'll never leave again. Like an idiot.

He laughs bitterly. "You would not be asking that if you knew what the fuck I went through," he says. His words sound like they should be angry, but there's this lightness to them like he can't let himself think too much about it. It just makes me angrier.

"Don't fucking laugh!" I snap. "Do you think any of this is funny?"

"I think you're funny when you're mad," he deflects, smiling. "You got this whole routine. Pacing, nose twitching. I like the Shirley Temple stomps, like you're a kid."

I groan loudly, the noise almost sounding like a low scream in my throat.

"You owed money to fucking- who?" I yell.

"The details don't matter-"

"When I have been grieving your death for nine months, they fucking matter!" I snap. His brows furrow, his hands mid air as if to say 'the fuck did I do?'

"You know me, okay? I don't get caught," he says as though it were obvious.

"I know fucking nothing!" I practically scream.

When we met he was just a guy at a bar, handsome, wearing that same ridiculous jacket that I couldn't help but stroke the white fluff on, tequila running through my veins.

"Can I help you?" He asked, smirking.

"Just wanted to see what it felt like," I said.

"Wanna feel something else?" He asked, his chin resting on his head.

"Oh, fucking gross. Fuck o-"

"I was talking about this," he said, whipping out his keys to show off an odd, weirdly shaped keychain with short, stiff fuzz. "Don't call me a pervert just cause you're one."

He was smiling. It was an easy smile. Careless, happy with life. I loved that smile. It meant things were always alright as long as he was smiling.

He was smiling on the photo they used for the manhunt.

We'd danced the whole night. He didn't know hardly any of the songs, causing him to be off beat. I was too drunk to keep time, so I stepped on his leather boots enough times there was a visible scuff on the top of one by the end of the night. I always felt bad, offering to replace or help pay to fix it. He wouldn't let me.

"They're a keepsake," he'd insist. "A living memory." He wore them everyday.

He's wearing sneakers, today.

At the end of the night, I stumbled out of the bar with a note in my coat pocket. It took two weeks for me to wear that coat again, and when I found the slip I'd almost thrown it away, assuming it was something dumb. But when I saw the worst handwriting in the world displaying a number belonging to someone named 'Keychain Guy,' I almost couldn't wait to call.

"Bullshit," Billy snaps. "You know me better than anyone."

"Don't say that," I say, putting a hand out protectively to keep him away. "That's exactly why everyone thinks I was just fine with that whole- fucked up thing!"

A gas station burned. A stolen vehicle. People were dead. People were dead.

Billy was presumed dead.

There was no funeral. He had no family, and none of mine wanted to put money into something that would be protested by the whole town anyways. No body to bury, nothing to do but gather up his things and smoke what remained in his stash until people came to nurse me back to life. By that point there wasn't even relief in drugs. The taste simply reminded me of better times cooking in the kitchen as we blew the smoke into each others faces, or worse. Better. Whatever.

I never questioned when Billy went out of town. I knew his work had details I didn't want nor need to know. Money was tight. But Billy always came home with little things whenever he went on unexpected trips. Knick knacks, snacks, some item I'd seen at the store and picked up to make a comment about. Had he been particularly forthcoming about his dealing when we started dating? No. He said he worked for a local small business, which technically isn't untrue. But about six months in, he was the one who approached me and sat me down at the small, rickty round table to tell me the truth. And that's what mattered to me. The economy is shit and it's not like it was meth, so who am I to judge?

About a year into it, I was begging for him to do something else.

"I don't like you disappearing," I told him. "I'm scared one day you're gonna piss someone off and that'll be the end. Then what am I gonna do?"

"Then you're gonna make sure they don't fuck up my face during the embalming process for the funeral," Billy said around his hand rolled cigarette. I whip the small dish towel at him, making him laugh and protect his small ashtray that I made him for Christmas the year prior. It was shitty, uneven, and I'm 99% sure a fire hazard. But he wouldn't use any other ones unless I was the one who bought them for him, and even then he favored this one. 'When this place goes up in flames,' I thought, 'I'll regret that gift.'

I'd kept it by the kitchen window every day since he'd died. "Died." It was his spot.

He moves to sit there now, looking in his pockets for the small box of prerolled cigarettes.

"People know you weren't involved," he says dismissively.

"Your friends know. What about the old ladies at church? The checkout clerks at the store? How about the fucking mailman?" I shout, convinced I'm still talking to the dead. "You think they know the ins and outs of the local psychos support group?" I ask, gesturing and stepping closer.

I was the local outcast now. Not to be trusted, not worth kindness. Shame was my title, and when Billy appeared on my doorstep at an hour where only I was awake I was sure I'd caught the same awful disease that must have been what sent him spiraling that winter day. It wasn't until he pushed the door open fully, taking me into his arms and pressing a warm kiss to my lips that I knew he was real. It was a feeling I was in the early stages of forgetting, blurry and cold. But here he was, the stubble on his chin a bit longer and his ears missing the small hoops that had glittered in the sunlight when he walked out the door.

Then I'd pushed him away. And the fight began.

"I'm not a fucking psycho," he argues. His hands pat around his outfit, searching. "You got a lighter?"

"Fuck off." I kept his favorite in my left pocket. I had to be careful what things of his I wore or kept on my person. People close to me knew I would have never condoned his actions, but even they had glared at me in the early wake of Billy's death when I dared to wear one of his shirts out of the house, or more commonly one of his thick leather jackets. But a lighter can be hidden, and unless you had borrowed it you wouldn't know it had specifically been his. So I kept it with me all the time, just feeling it next to my skin with the only barrier being the fabric of my pocket. Without a thought, I cover the small item as though he can see right through me. Picking up on the hint, he's rises from the table and begins walking over to me.

"Don't be a dick, just let me borrow it," he says, holding out his hand.

"Fuck off," I snap.

"You've said that. I just need it for two seconds," he says as his hands begin to gently grab at me, one on my shoulder and the other dipping into my pocket.

"Get the fuck off of me!" I yell, slapping at him.

"Just let me have-"

He cuts himself off as he pulls out the lighter from my pocket, his thumb grazing over the printed picture. The Statue of David. He'd bought because it made us laugh. One side was the regular statue, the other a close up of its small genitals with cursive writing underneath spelling the art piece's name.

"Oh," Billy says quietly.

We stand for a moment, silent. He doesn't seem sure what to do. My lungs burn with unheaved sobs. I fucking hate this.

"You were gonna come back," I finally say quietly. I hate how my voice sounds when I'm upset. I hate that I'm wearing his dogtag, an item he'd bought at a World War II museum in middle school that he gave me for our first Christmas because we were both too broke to actually buy each other anything, hence the poorly made ashtray. I hate that when I sleep at night it's in his clothes that I rarely wash because the idea of losing his smell makes me want to scream. I hate that his scent is different from the bottle of cologne he kept next to my makeup, one time spilling all over the entire bathroom counter because we'd gotten too wrapped up in each other, dragging our nails down each others backs and watching ourselves in the mirror until one wrong move of my hand revealed he'd been a bit too careless about screwing the lid back on earlier in the day. I'd always warned him about that.

I'd been in the bathroom putting on my permanently scented blush when I got the text.

"I was going to," he said softly. "Then I couldn't."

"So what?" I say, not daring to turn and face him, choosing instead to stare at where the cheap, old wood paneling of the wall meets the shaggy, stained carpet that you have to wear shoes on due to the staples that have begun sticking out of it. "You just propose to someone and then pretend to die?"

Valentines Day was an awfully cheesy day to do it. So it's a good thing it was a technicality.

The day had been lovely. Billy had saved up a little to take me to a local hibachi place, telling me to wear my best outfit and jewelry. It was slightly overkill, but it's the small things in life, isn't it?

We'd come home with a bottle of wine, a low budget movie to ignore and hands searching desperately for each other.

"I love you," he'd said between pants. "You're mine."

"Buy a ring," I'd dared. Our minds were buzzed, the bottle half empty and our clothes thrown away without care. Took me weeks to find his both of his socks.

I hadn't meant for him to take it seriously. But I guess he decided it was time.

Two days later I thought it was odd when he walked into the house with my favorite lunch. It wasn't expensive really, we just usually got it for special occasions or days that had been mentally harder for me. And things were normal that day. I was getting ready for my shift, running around like I always do trying to make sure I've got everything.

"Your coffee's in the cup, will you just sit down?" He laughed, watching me. I quickly collected the take out box, sipping my coffee and wincing over its temperature.

"Fuck, that burns," I cursed. He wrapped his arms around me, trying to get me to sit at the table. "Baby, I can't," I protested softly, but I was laughing. He was peppering me in kisses, giving me those big puppy dog eyes everyone knew were my weakness. He wanted for nothing so long as he looked at me just like that.

"Just this once," he asked, pressing a kiss to my cheek. I couldn't help the blush and giggle that rose from me, but I also couldn't be late.

"I'll make up for it," I promised, slipping away and running into the bedroom to get my shoes. When I ran back in, pulling them on and coming to kiss him goodbye, I nearly fell over when I saw him on one knee, smiling and looking at me like 'I told you so.'

I don't like how itchy the ring feels on my middle finger as I twirl it in thought.

"You don't know what happened," he pleaded, his hands still on me. "If you would just listen to me-"

"The news gave a pretty good description, William. I don't think there's missing pieces in my head, unlike you," I say coldly, detaching from myself so to not have to deal with my emotions. This makes him stiffen, pulling away and resuming his place at the kitchen table, lighting his cigarette and placing the ashtray in front of him like nothing has changed when everything has.

It feels like I'm out of time. Like I've been shoved into a picture of what my life looked like before. Except the house was never this clean, clothes always scattered about. Not just in a fit of passion, we just had bad habits when it came to picking up. Billy would always say the chairs are more decorations then they are seats, anyways. "Why would you use those when you have such a nice seat here?" He'd ask, wiggling his hips and placing his hands behind his head, making me laugh.

Billy never looked so well put together in the house, usually in a wife beater and his hair framing his face. He'd always joked he looked like a dirty hippie around me, and I'd always show him how much I liked that. Not that he looked fantastic now. When we went out he was known for putting in effort. He always had more hair products than me, which I found funny. Though he refused makeup. Once I'd managed to talk him into eyeliner. 'Guyliner' I'd teased. He liked it, but said it should stay between us with a wink before asking where to get dinner. Now he sits before me in clothes obviously stolen to help him look unremarkable, his hair shaggy and uncut, so different from the man I loved.

"Who are you?" I asked him. That man didn't shrink away from accountability.

He sighed, smoke swirling around him as he wipes his face with his hand.

"I don't know. Can't tell if I'm better or worse, to be honest," he admits softly. His eyes look haunted, heavy bags underneath. It's the way his shoulders sag as though his will to go on is slowly draining from him in this very moment that makes me want to break now. Like whatever reason he had for still going was fruitless.

I didn't like the way we mirrored each other like this.

I slowly scuff my feet towards him, tapping my fingers against the back of the wooden chair before pulling it out to sit across from him. It's a start.

"So if you tell me," I say slowly. "Am I going to wish you were dead?"

He doesn't look at me. "I don't know."

Great.

The night is long. Morning comes without an invitation, the blue sky beginning to glow through the shitty blinders I always told Billy we should replace one day. I understand less than when we started, we've both cried more than once, and between our fingers is cigarette stubs and the feeling of each others skin, hands laced together as though another click of an old remote to an outdated TV with batteries you had to rub against your shirt to make work would reveal the smouldering remains of a gas station, displaying the estimated body count and deeming one of us as a devil of the worst kind, ripping us apart.

"Jesus," I say when it's over.

"Yeah," he says. "So, needless to say, my anxiety is shit now."

It isn't funny. It's a tragic statement. But when we both glance into the others eyes, it's his small little smirk that makes me laugh like I haven't since my mother sent me the local news report with his picture covering the front page. The same one that shows everything is still okay.

"I'm sorry," I say. Then the laughing turns into sobbing, and then I can't breathe. And I really am sorry.

I'm sorry I couldn't help him. I'm sorry he went out on a romantic whim and borrowed money he shouldn't have for the ring I was too ashamed to wear on the proper finger. I'm sorry he couldn't come back for me. And I'm sorry for hating him when he showed up unannounced at my door.

"Hey," he says gently, standing and crossing to me, removing his jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders to comfort me. It's unfamiliar, evidence of a life he wouldn't have led if he had just stayed by me and it upsets me, but his lips against my wet cheeks ground me, familiar and soothing me, coaxing me into wrapping my arms around him, clawing my trembling fingers through his hair. Still soft. Still combed.

"You can't stay here," I choke out.

"I know," he says quietly. There's nothing for a long time, our bodies shaking as we cling to each other. In our arms are the unspoken months of grief. Of his longing for our home, of my insanity. Death looms over the furniture, light hidden away lest it take away my sacred treasures I'd used to keep his spirit close to me.

"I can't lose you again," I say.

"I know," he says, smelling my hair and placing a soft kiss on top of my head. "But I can't promise stability if you follow me."

My brows furrow, my mind racing in confusion, my hopes rising. Follow?

"I know a guy," he says quickly, his arms tighter as if scared I'll turn away. "Says he can get me a new identity and a one way ticket to somewhere. I don't know where yet, but it's worth a try."

My fingers trace his back, swirling invisible patterns over his shirt. He'd always liked that after a rough day. I can feel the tension begin to slowly fall away from him at the contact, his breathing growing deeper and more steady. "And you want me to come?"

"Need," he corrects. "I don't regret leaving you, but I can't stay away. Even if it's more kind to let you mourn and find a better life."

A new life. A new identity. New name, new everything.

Maybe I am insane. Maybe this exactly the kind of mental break Billy had that day. Maybe I was doomed to follow his spirit no matter what. Maybe this is a second chance. Maybe God had granted me a mercy I'll never be able to repay, no matter how many night I spend in worship at a church or between this man's legs. Maybe I'd spend every day looking over my shoulder, paranoid and eventually turning cruel to strangers so to keep this one person everyone told me to let go of from the very beginning.

But the same Billy.

"Can he do a marriage license?" I ask after a long silence. I can hear him laugh, pulling away to look at me.

"That eager?" He asks softly, his eyes gentle, thumb stroking my cheek. I lean into his touch, softly placing a kiss on his palm.

▪︎》◇《▪︎

"Well," I say, "I already have the ring."

Masterlist

As cute as this was, please have better standards than the Reader I wrote in this fic. No man is worth that. I am DEADASS. Anyways, love y'all <3

#josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson x you #jhutch #billy burn #billy burn x you #billy burn x reader #billy burn 2019 #burn 2019 #burn movie 2019 #billy x reader

[lichenes]

Hey, loved your Perdrix fanfic i was wondering if we could get a sort of get prequel too the confession fic of the night before when they were drunkenly confessing to each other during. 💕💕

Thank you for the ask!! This is a prequel to this. CW: kissing, SFW wc: 544 _____✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿_____

You stepped out into the night shivering a little from the light breeze that mother nature had to offer that evening. With a slight sway in his step, right behind you, followed Pierre. "'s cold..." You hummed, your head positively buzzing. "Wanna go to mine?" Slurring his words he managed to let out something along the lines of 'yeah, sure'.

Driving a car wasn't a possibility so you just decided on walking. With his hand around you, despite how absolutely hammered you both were, you felt safe. Your attempts at how flustered you were were quickly discarded, your inebriated form fully clinging to him, nuzzling your face into his chest.

"Walk straight god damnit, you're gonna knock me over chérie." He said, clearly amused by your drunken state. "I'm sure you don't mind me in your arms, pretty boy." He got red in the face and you could only assume it wasn't from the alcohol. "Somebody is blushinnnn'." You teased earning a look full of playful disdain from him.

"Hey I've got an idea..."

Whatever else happened right before this very moment was not important to you. You vaguely remember being dragged by him towards a body of water and undressing which was uncharacteristic for the usually stoic Pierre. "Oh my god what if somebody sees us?" You questioned, the alcohol starting to wear off. "Doesn't matter."

All he wanted to see was you. Your naked form looking particularly alluring in the light of the moon. You looked ethereal to him despite your own insecurities peaking their head out with you covering your body with your hands. "Come onnn~" He said singsongingly.

You were submerged in the water, still warm from it being sunny all day long. You were relaxing by the coastline a bit too scared to swim drunk. Pierre on the other hand was taking advantage of the little freedom he had that night and was swimming laps occasionally passing by you and sending you curious glances.

When you both sobered up a bit you decided to stay in the water for a moment more. His hand was once again around you and this time on your waist. You both sighed contently, laughing at the coincidence and falling into a comfortable silence.

He looked deep into your eyes, noticing the slight twinkle they possesed as he got closer to your face. Only an inch more and he'd have what he craved for so long.

"Pierrot?"

He snapped out of it and covered his mouth with his hand. "I'm s-" He attempted to apologise as you put both your hands on his cheeks and pulled him in for a kiss. He slipped you his tongue after a moment of kissing and you moved your hands from his face to his chest.

He picked you up and put your legs on either side of his hips the buoyancy of the water helping him with keeping your balance tremendously. You pulled back from one another. "Pierre I love you, I'm not joking."

"..." He hesistated for a split second. "I- I love you too, you don't even undertand how much." He put his forehead to yours. "I'd move heaven and earth to be with you."

"You don't have to move anything Pierre. I'm right here." _____✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿_____ masterlist

#swann arlaud #x reader #pierre perdrix #perdrix #the bare necessity #pierre perdrix x reader

[sofasoap]

Presents

Pairing :  John Price x f!reader. (Reader is medic , call sign : Chameleon )

Summary: 141 boys getting their early presents. Including a very surprised one for Price himself. Slight crack-ish fun :) not beta'd.

This is part of the “Mini” MacTavish universe, but the reader isn’t “ Mini”. Continuation of Little secret series. Thanks for @captainpriceslover for her inspiration for the fic Trinkets, this is kind of continuation from that fic too.

“masterlist” for prequel to this Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

“.... What’s in these boxes Captain? New gadgets for the mission?” Soap stared at the boxes his Captain sat down on the desk.

“Christmas Presents.” Price grumbled. He pushed one box each in front of Soap and Gaz, two towards Ghost.

Soap frowned. “It’s only October. Not even time for Christmas shopping yet.” he lifted the box up, trying to rattle it. “Jesus hell, it's a bit heavy.” 

“Hum. Mine is a bit lighter, and sounds like there are things rolling around..” Gaz mumbled.

“Blame my wife. She insisted you boys have the presents early as we wouldn’t be around for the festive season.”  

Price loves his wife. He tried to keep her a secret as long as possible but the big gossiper of Ghost “accidently” let it slip about her existence and cue the two nosy boys immediately went and hunted her down in the infirmary. He was actually quite surprised as smart as Gaz and Soap are, it took them this long to catch on, even seeing you and their child during Simon’s wedding. 

Gaz and soap peeked into the infirmary, currently void of any patient, and saw you sitting in the corner, sipping on a cup of coffee while shuffling through patient notes.

Hearing the creak of the door, you saw the two men trying to push each other into the room. “Hello, I see you two have found me.” Chuckling as you wave at them to come and take a seat as you push your laptop and paper works aside. “What can I do for you? Did my husband send you two out to drag me out from here?”

“We just want to see the person who beated some sense into our Captain.” Gaz elbowed Soap as he blurted out. Two of them proceeded to bombard you with all sorts of questions. How did you two meet? Who asks who out? How old is the kid? You patiently answered all their questions, trying to satisfy their curiosity. You two “officially”met during the Amsterdam mission, Price asked you out (surprisingly), little Kyle is turning ten soon, a football fanatic just like his father. 

Everything slowly became clearer to Gaz, the amused smile his Captain showed, when he introduced himself during the Piccadilly. 

The occasional sad smile when his Captain checks his private phone during their long mission away. 

The eagerness when they unexpectedly complete the mission and get to return back to the UK early.

He was eager to return to his family. To you and his young son. 

Three of them had a good chatting session afterward. They found out you have been in the SAS longer than both of them, they are really surprised they haven’t really noticed you around, even with the amount of times the men have been in and out of the infirmary or on mission.

“Remember what my call sign is? Chameleon. I am very good at blending in,unnoticed.” She explained with a little smile. 

You seem to be a very quiet but determined person. Gaz and Soap can see the resemblance in personality in both of you and Price. No wonder Price has fallen for you. He thought. Someone who is just a workaholic but devoted to each other. 

Ghost’s brow went up a bit when he opened his box, Gaz looked over, a skull shaped soap dispenser?? And two little cute animal soap dispensers in there. 

“She meant to give that to you when we moved.” Price shrugged as he lit up a cigar, a smirk on his face. “The other box is for Mini. Those two little dispensers are for Tiny and Aileen.” 

“WHY IS THIS BOX FULL OF SOAP?” Soap cried, he sniffed himself. “Do I stink? Is she trying to say I stink? Oh Gosh Emma never told me I stink…”

Gaz opened up the lid of the box, in there he found a few fancy looking hand-made soaps,

“Soap… I got a few blocks of it too, don't worry. Seems she thinks both of us stink equally.” Gaz laughed. Underneath the blocks of soap, he also found a new set of knitting needles, crochet hooks and different colour yarns, You remembered, to Gaz’s surprise, during that initial conversation he mentioned to you his side hobbies are knitting and crocheting, crafty skill he learnt from his grandmother, which he found soothing and meditative to get his mind away from the bloodshed. Pulling out the yarns, he noticed right at the bottom there is also a little booklet of patterns for …. Baby clothes? 

Gaz frowned. He’s not expecting any babies. He doesn’t even have a partner! What are you trying….OH.

Turning towards Price. “.... are you two expecting?” He asked. 

Turning his head away from watching Soap’s self-wallowing and Ghost quietly happy with his little gag  present, Price slowly turned and looked at Gaz, he could see confusion in his Captain’s eyes.

“ What made you say that?”

Gaz holds up the book.

“..... are you not telling me something Gaz?” Price’s eyes narrowed, throwing the question back at him.

“Captain, you know I definitely don’t have anyone in my life at the moment. And I DEFINITELY did not knock anyone up.”

Price went all quiet. Gaz could see him trying to process the information. 

All of sudden, he stood up, startling all three of them and marched out of the office, towards the infirmary. 

“....what is going on?” Soap looked at Gaz, and back to Ghost. 

“ I think he just got a pleasant surprise gift himself too.” 

Moments later, they could hear your scream,followed by you insisting your husband to put you back down, to everyone’s jaw dropping and stares as Price bridal carried you out of the infirmary, along the corridor, heading towards the front gate, trying to get you home to rest. 

The day the whole barrack finally realised Captain John Price and you are actually married to each other. 

Sorry @captainpriceslover, as with all my stories, it takes turn unexpectly as I write them :P

@tapioca-marzipan @floral-force (mutton chop no. 6 :) )

#call of duty #captain john price #john price x you #john price x reader #john price imagine #john price #john price x y/n #captain price x reader #captain price #captain price x y/n #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #captain john price x female reader #crack fic

[moonlightspencie]

champagne problems

Description: based on champagne problems by taylor swift PLUS the prequel ‘the beginning and end’ added in at the end of the fic!!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, still some fluff in there

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: both originally posted to tumblr. then went to live on ao3. now back on tumblr

My hands shook, fiddling with the little box in the pocket of my coat. I waited outside her door for a moment, just trying to gather my thoughts and feelings before I was finally ready to knock. Then, I did.

I heard shuffling on the other side, my heart rate picking up slightly as she swung open the door, a bright smile on her face.

“Spence!”

She threw her arms around me, pulling me in. I laughed along with her as I squeezed her just as tightly: how could I resist?

“Hi, love,” I greeted her as we broke apart. “Are you ready?”

“Almost. Here, come in,” she tugged me inside.

As soon as the door was closed she bustled around the space as she always did, and I watched her as I always did. My sweet little honeybee buzzing through her routine in preparation for our usual date night. We had come to an agreement that any time I came back from a case we would make sure to go out the night afterwards and celebrate the fact that I was home and safe with her. It was my favorite tradition easily, being reminded that I was hers.

“Okay, I think I have everything.”

She glanced down at herself, being sure that she had, indeed, pulled on her coat and purse. Two things that I was certain nobody but her could possibly forget.

I reached out my hand, and her skin danced across mine so softly as she held on. A smile couldn’t help but to creep onto my face. We started the same walk we always took to the train, and we made our way to the same restaurant we always dined at for this night. A hole burned in my pocket but I attempted to ignore it, that would come later.

“I’m so lucky to have you,” I leaned into her slightly to whisper in her ear as we waited for our table.

“I’m luckier.”

She smiled at me again.

We were seated soon after, falling easily into conversation. I sprung for a more expensive bottle of champagne than we normally indulged in; I thought where the night was headed deserved something more special than what we might have otherwise. She sipped away, and I hardly touched mine. We decided on desert for the night, too, sharing one fork like two fools in love. But, I suppose I was in love, so what’s the harm?

“As soon as your coat is on, I have a surprise for you,” I smiled at her, and she raised a brow.

“What do you have planned in that big brain of yours, Dr. Reid?”

“I already said it’s a surprise, I can’t ruin it now.”

I beamed at her, pulling out my wallet to pay the bill. She glanced over at it.

“Ugh,” she groaned playfully, “You really should take that picture out of there.”

“What?” I laughed, looking down at it. “Why would I?”

“I look awful.”

“You’re an angel.”

“You’re too kind to me.”

I only shook my head. She knew I wasn’t lying, and that was sufficient for me. She tugged on her coat, and I started leading her back through the restaurant.

“Spence, door is the other way.”

“I know,” I squeezed her hand briefly, “Did you know they have a rooftop space here?”

“No,” she shook her head.

I looked to her again, a smirk on my lips as I opened a door for her to begin our ascent. She walked a little slower than I would have liked, but then again, maybe I was just getting a little over-excited. I opened the second door to the rooftop, letting her take it all in for a moment. Lights were hung up all around providing a warm glow that was similar to the one she always radiated (though I knew it could never really compare).

“Wow, Spence…”

“What do you think?”

“I…” She trailed off, looking around for a moment. “What is all of this?”

“I just wanted to do something special for you.”

I shrugged, and her brow furrowed.

“Oh.”

My grip on her hand loosened.

“Do— Do you not like it? We don’t have to stay, I just…” I knew my voice was too quiet, but I couldn’t help it.

She shook her head, eyes now glassy.

“That isn’t it, Spencer. It’s beautiful, it is…”

She let go of my hand, crossing her arms. I didn’t know what to do, arms now feeling very uncomfortable just hanging at my sides.

“What’s wrong, love?”

She looked away from me, head shaking again.

“Hey,” I started, reaching out for her. She backed away.

“I can’t. I can’t, Spencer.”

She looked to me again, evidence of tears that had fallen on her face. I stuck to my spot in a state of shock, and she was gone before I knew it. I didn’t even have a fighting chance of going after her. I couldn’t breathe, how was I expected to run?

The air was too cold now, but maybe that was due to all of my warmth leaving me only a minute earlier. The hole being burnt in my pocket was no longer a worry: now there was a lead brick weighing me down. I didn’t even have the capacity to crumble, all I knew how to do was follow routine. I walked down the same sidewalk we always took. I got on the same late night train we always took. I listened to the quiet of the city that we never had to before when we were too busy laughing and sharing sweet words. I let my feet carry me home to the same place we had shared so much, and sat alone.

I recognized a buzzing in the pocket of the coat I had to discard as soon as I entered, no longer able to even think of the little box I was so anxious to give to her earlier. I raced over, falling to the ground and hoping that she was the one causing the ruckus. There were three messages, but not a single one from her.

- “How did it go?! Did she say yes???”

- “Of course she did, how could she say no after what you planned :)”

- “Please give me all of the details as soon as possible!!!!!”

I read all of the messages, knowing I should really get back to Penelope as soon as I could, but in that moment I couldn’t even pull myself off the floor. Another two from Derek.

- “Proud of you, kid. Excited to see the pictures I’m sure you two took! I know she loves that kind of thing”

- “We’re popping the champagne as soon as you give the word”

I knew they meant well, but now I couldn’t regret telling them more.

Maybe that’s why she said I should take that picture out of my wallet.

I took a deep breath in, looking around the apartment and still seeing nothing but her. There was no way I could make it to the bed we shared. I’d need a new mattress. Perhaps the floor would do for the time being. At least that’s what I told myself.

I woke the next morning, remembering the night before was far from a bad dream as soon as I realized the hard floor was still beneath me. I pushed myself up, sitting and just staring off for several moments before a little white sheet of paper caught my eye. It looked like it had been slid under the door. I reached over, grabbing and unfolding it.

‘I know it wasn’t fair of me and I can’t tell you just yet why I did it. I don’t know yet, honestly. I’m sorry, Spence. You’re amazing and I know you’ll find someone. Someone better. She’ll hold you the way you deserve to be held, I know it. She’ll pick up the pieces. I’m sorry I broke them. I can’t talk to you right now, I need time. Maybe someday. You’re going to be okay, I know you will.’

I tried to read over the words time and time again. An eidetic memory means nothing when my tears fogged my eyesight too badly to even see. I folded in on myself, clutching onto the note for dear life. I had the capacity to crumble now, and crumble I did.

—————

‘the beginning and end’ prequel:

I love her and that’s the beginning and end of everything. 

A brilliant author called F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote that line about the love of his life. It was actually included in a series of letters he and his lover Zelda had written to one another. There was a time in my life where, while I could appreciate the sentiment of this line, I couldn’t bring myself to fully understand it. Poetry in and of itself was never my favorite read. So much of it seemed far too romantic for my interests, and I always preferred classic non-fiction, or the books I had read with my mother as a child. Poetry and romance and everything that came with that kind of thing were simply not for me.

But then I fell for her. And it was the beginning and the end of everything. 

My first recollection of her begins on a cool autumn day. The first cool day after months of intense summer heat, actually. Something about that seemed so fitting in regards to her. She came into my life much like a needed cool breeze that snapped me out of the humid air of the summertime. 

“Hi, um, I’m kind of new here. Could you tell me where Agent Hotchner’s office is?” 

I looked up at her in surprise. Not that I was shocked we were getting a new recruit, just that the way her eyes sparkled in the fluorescent lighting of the bullpen was nearly otherworldly. I hadn’t known anything to be so beautiful. 

That is, until I saw her in full. She offered the most delicate smile, full of apprehension as she was meant to be starting her first day in a new bureau, but cheerful nonetheless. 

I nodded too quickly, practically stuttering out my words. 

“Yeah, he, uh, he’s just up those stairs. Right in that office, there,” I said, pointing towards the windows of his office. 

“Thank you,” she said with another smile, then offered her name. 

I introduced myself after her, any worry of spreading germs completely out of my mind as I went to shake her hand. I still remember how soft her skin felt against mine, the perfume she was wearing, and even the rhythm of her breathing I swear I could recollect with perfect clarity. 

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that was as close as a person could get to love at first sight. It was a silly notion, I knew that well enough, but one I still fell prey to. How she couldn’t tell that I was immediately smitten was beyond my realm of understanding. 

She didn’t have a clue until seven months later.

“I don’t understand why you’re being so stubborn,” she exclaimed, practically fuming with me. 

I shook my head, scoffing a laugh at the ridiculousness of our situation. Here she was, ready to charge in at an unsub, and getting angry with me for telling her it was a bad idea. I figured she’d been spending too much time with Morgan. 

“I hardly think it’s stubborn to tell you not to kill yourself,” I said, possibly too matter-of-fact for her liking. 

She continued strapping on the vest, ignoring anything else I had to say. 

“You can’t go in there.”

She huffed out. “Watch me.”

I tried reaching out to stop her, but it was too late. She snuck away from my grip, moving through the darkness of night towards the dingy motel. My heart sped, my feet practically frozen to the ground. I didn’t think she’d actually go. 

“Hotch, she’s going in,” I said into the microphone in a panic. 

I heard his voice through my earpiece, trying to tell me it would be fine. I didn’t believe him. 

I quickly strapped a vest on myself, following after her not a minute later. I rushed towards the door, pulling my gun out when I heard a shot ring through the air. Coincidentally, the air in my lungs stilled. I felt my heartbeat pounding in my ears, picking up the courage to slam the door open, gun pointed at the nearest body. 

“Whoa, it’s me!”

She put her hands up, and my weapon dropped. I put it back in the holster, watching as she shook her head at me, then continued untying the poor man who’d been taken. She comforted him as she was always somehow able to do. 

We had the rest of the team and the local force there in no time, taking care of the victim and the body of the unsub. She watched me carefully throughout the whole ordeal, like I was a scared animal. I supposed I probably looked like one. 

When we were able to leave, she stopped me behind the others with a hand to my elbow. 

“Are you okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine, I just wish you hadn’t gone in there like that.”

“Spence, you looked like you were about to veg when you burst in there. You never get that freaked.”

“I heard a gunshot.”

She sighed softly, looking at me in the eyes. It seemed she found something she wasn’t expecting as she straightened up, still not breaking eye contact. 

“You were that scared?”

“Of course, I thought you might have been killed.”

She paused, watching me silently again. She took a few moments before speaking, though it felt like an eternity. 

“How long?” 

She asked, so quietly I almost didn’t hear. 

My voice lowered to match her volume. 

“What do you mean?”

“I know we aren’t supposed to read each other, but sometimes it’s really hard to ignore, Spencer,” she said, sounding almost hurt. “How long?”

I finally understood what she was getting at, swallowing down a stone of anxiety. I looked away from her, but she was having none of that. She caught my attention again, and once more her eyes glistened. This time the moonlight reflecting in them. 

I shrugged, looking down. “Forever. Since I met you.”

She nodded, staying quiet. I took a deep breath, wanting so badly for her to speak. To say something. 

“Okay,” she finally whispered. 

She walked past me, leaving me high on adrenaline, with anticipation that was building to nothing. My feelings for her seemed to be a house built on sand, and the first storm that came through crumbled everything I’d been living in. My face reddened in embarrassment, and even the chill of the night couldn’t cool it enough to make it bearable. 

I went home that night, unable to sleep. I laid back, staring at the ceiling until morning came. I knew the day to come would only be successful with an incredible amount of caffeine in my system, so I drank three cups of coffee before I left. 

It still wasn’t enough to keep me from feeling like I was trudging through life. 

Days passed before I finally got the chance to talk to her again. I tried a few times prior, but the words always got stuck in my throat before I could manage anything. In the end, she fought that battle for me by speaking first. 

“Spencer?” 

She looked at me from where she sat at her desk. It was the end of our workday, and everyone else long gone. I glanced up, heart starting to beat hard before she said anything but my name. 

I looked at her, brows raising in question rather than testing a voice I wasn’t sure would work in that moment. 

“Can we talk about what happened?”

I nodded, still quiet. 

“Are you going to speak?” She asked with a little laugh. 

I smiled at her, unable to stop myself with the way she sounded. 

“Yeah, I will.”

“Good,” she said, then sighed the softest sigh. 

Everything in my heart and hers was laid out bare that day. She told me she was leaving the bureau. That she didn’t think it was her forever-job anymore. She found work in a different department where she wouldn’t have to be in the field anymore, and mentioned that it was the reason she was so nervous about my feelings for her. She didn’t want things to crumble. However, I was quick to reassure that if she gave me the chance, I wouldn’t let that happen. It was my turn to share my feelings in full in that moment. It didn’t take long for her to pull it all out of me, I was more than willing to give everything for her. 

And that’s exactly what I decided to do, eight months, one week, and three days later. 

I opened the small velvet box, a smile warming my face as I looked at the little stone that would mean so much. It was beautiful as it was, but on her… The mere thought of it took my breath away.

I left my apartment with the ring in my pocket, and hope in my heart. 

I was soon to have her until the end of time. That was the beginning and end of everything.

—————

spencer reid taglist:

@hyunjaebaby @simp4olderm3n @missabsey @igotbannedfromtheasylum

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid reader insert #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid one shot #champagne problems

[devnmon]

Long, Long Time.

'Cause I've done everything I know To try and make you mine And I think I'm gonna love you For a long, long time

Summary: Irrevocably in love with the woman you can’t have, a wine drunk night over classical reading and a fireplace aids in decision making.

Ao3 version | tess masterlist

prequel fic

Warnings: smut [a tiny bit], reader hopelessly in love with Tess, use of y/n (a couple times); based on ep 3 of TLOU

wc: 13k

A/n: Okay ummm first of all don’t blame me for writing this much on one character that i’ve never written before, but this fic is literally my baby. It’s my favorite thing i’ve written. I thought it was my turn to take a spin with writing for Tess. Since tlou came out i’ve been obsessed with her and… well you can tell by how much I wrote. Here it is, my perfect Tess fic. Enjoy <3

Today was the day.

A warm morning in September, 20 years after the Cordyceps infection sunk into the deepest depths of society, crumbling down its once high, strong walls, to a brittle, cracked dictatorship of community. The Boston Quarantine Zone was one of your least favorite places in the world, but from what you heard about other cities' QZ's, it was a walk in the park.

As a smuggler, you handled runs for more than 75% of the place, with the help of a few desperate FEDRA officers that offered to look the other way for a price.

If risking your life for bottles of pills and useful supplies was the most dangerous thing to do, then so be it; you were the unlucky one.

Most runs, you were accompanied by one of your two partners, Tess Servopolous or Joel Miller. They were older, skilled, smart, and resourceful, and they knew how to kill. Especially Tess. She could handle her own like it was nobody's business. Hard headed and courageous, Tess became a good partner and soon enough, a close friend.

Although, there was another part of you that found her alluring, captivating and so, so gorgeous. She was confident in herself no matter what, which only drew you towards her more.

Ever since the early days of the outbreak, you three had each other's backs, and nothing could come between you. To you, they were the only thing you'd known after being found by the older woman and taken in. The day she found you, beat up and bloody with several injuries, was the day she had quite genuinely saved your life.

Now a part of Joel and Tess's smuggling business, you were off to a town called Lincoln, a five hour hike from the walls of the QZ.

The hot sun glared down on your skin, a chill September breeze flowing in gusts that kept you cooled off enough throughout your journey.

A majority of the trip was spent in silence, lost in your enamor for Tess, eyes trailing over the back of her figure. She had glanced back once or twice at you, like she could feel your eyes burning into her body.

Some nights you lay awake wondering what it would be like to drag your fingers up and down the expanses of her skin, trailing over her back and caressing the soft skin of her figure till you fell asleep.

Time passed as you traveled behind Tess and Joel, and the image of a metal fence coming into view.

"This is it," Joel stated before approaching the gate. You begin to follow the two older individuals before you pause, stopping a minute to remember something that Frank had mentioned about their gate.

"Wait, I thought you said this thing was booby-trapped or something.. How do we know it won't get triggered?" The concern of your safety was imminent, the unknown patiently waiting behind the metal gates.

"Well we don't, but Frank said if we came from the road instead of the forest that it wouldn't get triggered. They'd see us coming that way, too. Trust me, I know Frank. He wouldn't lie, not when he knows we can work together."

Tess was the expert on the two men that lived behind the gates of the completely deserted town; she was the one who arranged their meeting, after all.

"Alright.." You sighed, walking right up to the gate with them.

There was a box attached to the entry gate with a few buttons on it. You watched Joel walk up to the gate and press a button labeled 'Call'.

A loud buzzing sounded out after he'd pushed the red button in, and a moment later, a male voice responded from the intercom.

"Password."

The voice sounded deeper than Frank's, only assuming the speaker was Bill, the other half of the couple that resided in Lincoln.

"Uh- Ahem," Joel cleared his throat, before stating the code word Frank had given you three before coming.

The feedback rang out as Joel spoke, another buzzing sound coming from the gate as you hear it unlock.

"Alright, let's go. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious, since we really don't know what we're walkin' into here."

Tess scoffed at her male partner's words, a smirk on her face saying otherwise from your tense anxiety of meeting new people.

"Tess, hey," you grabbed her arm ever so softly as you trailed behind her, and she looked toward you, "Are you sure we can trust these guys?"

A tiny smile formed on her face as she recognized your nervousness. She thought it was adorable and sweet how you went to her for comfort at any point in time. It warmed her heart and made her feel important to somebody again.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Frank wouldn't hurt a fly. Bill on the other hand.. he might be a bit standoffish at first. From what Frank said, I'm sure he'll warm up to us with time. Don't worry."

Tess rubbed your arm up and down a couple times, hoping it would soothe your worries. As she did, your face broke out into a small smile, nodding before you dropped your grip and continued walking. You could get lost in the hazel of her eyes like it was hypnosis, or something close to that. The way Tess made your world stop by even being in your presence was something entirely familiar to you, and it kept you up at night, pondering about the simplest things.

It seemed the little town of Lincoln, Massachusetts was surrounded by this perfect bubble of safety and security. Like a dream, the familiarity of a place as different from the QZ.. felt a bit unreal. You never thought you'd have the chance to make friends in a world with infected, much less one with access to such a large range of supplies in a deserted town, highly protected by its sole residents.

The feeling surrounding you was oddly similar to how you felt around Tess, her warmth and beauty heart-warming, much like a hug.

Your focus is brought back to reality as you almost bump into Tess's back, her and Joel had abruptly stopped walking.

"Oof- sorry Tess-"

"Y/n.." Joel says abruptly, not realizing they're both holding their hands out to the side, the cocking of what sounded like a gun putting the realization into place.

"Shit.." You whispered, stepping out from behind Tess, arms out in the same fashion as your partners, and you realize there's a man holding a gun out at the three of you.

Then, from the house the man stood in front of, another man came running out. He calls the name of the man who's holding his pistol at you, Bill.

Which means.. that's Frank. You thought to yourself, as the sweater-wearing man approached and tried to beckon the other man to lower his weapon.

"Bill, these are the people I met over the radio. We can trust them.. they aren't going to hurt us. Put the gun down, please? I don't want to scare off people we could potentially be working with.." The man named Frank said with a chuckle, almost having to force the gun down himself. After another moment of brooding stares being passed between Bill and Joel, he lowers the gun and places it in his holster at his thigh.

Your hands drop to your sides after freezing with them out in the air due to fear. It wasn't the first time someone's pointed a gun at you, but it sure as hell was one of the times you thought someone would actually shoot. Relief washed over you as Bill's arms lowered.

"Perfect, thank you," Frank says to Bill, before wrapping his arm around the man's shoulder, "Welcome to our home, I'm Frank, and this is Bill. I'm so glad to finally meet you guys. We have a lot to talk about! Come on, follow me."

Frank had a home-like smile that was warm and welcoming. It was the first time in a long time you'd seen anyone smile like that. So carefree. You guessed it was the effect of not being behind the walls of a QZ for too long. That, or Frank knew how to stay true to himself in such a rugged, rough around the edges world.

The uncomfortable gaze Bill shot your way made you realize that it probably took a lot for him to even agree to let the three of you come into their town, much less want to work with complete strangers.

While being led back to Bill and Frank's home, you can't help but marvel at everything around you. Lincoln was much different than the QZ and open city; a town quite literally frozen in time from when it had been evacuated. A place like this was one you dreamed of settling down in, with a partner before the outbreak; it seemed like the perfect place to do so. Quiet, quaint, and bare of any infected or dangerous militia and resistance groups.

As their home came into view, it was exactly as you thought it'd be: another one of the huge houses a place like suburbia always had. It was one of the biggest you'd ever seen, almost out of a storybook. Except for the leaves blowing through the streets, it was as if the house hadn't aged a day. Everything about their home and its surrounding yard looked as if it had been tended to regularly; a mowed lawn, bushes with budding flowers, and not a single area of chipped paint to be seen.

"This is our place, I do my best to keep it looking its best and Bill... well he's just one hell of a cook. Aren't you, dear?" Frank turned to Bill with a smile, only to look away from his lover and back at you three.

"It's true, one of the many things I'm good at. Including defending my home." Bill's hand went to the gun strapped on his thigh.

"Yes, of course you are. Now, could you whip us up some lunch while I get to know our lovely guests here?" Frank turns his head towards Bill again.

"But-" Bill begins to speak, wanting to name all the reasons he doesn't want to leave his lover alone with strangers. Though, you notice Frank is quick to reassure Bill that everything will be alright.

"I'll be fine, I promise. They aren't going to hurt me, I've been extra careful with who I talk to, you know that. These people aren't dangerous. At least not to us." Frank's smile breaks Bill's resolve, trusting his lover enough to retreat into the house with haste.

Now alone with Frank, he guides the three of you over to the table on their lawn. You sit down next to Tess on your right side and Frank on the left.

"So.. Tess, I assume the lovely man you arrived with is the famous Joel Miller?" Frank turned to Joel with his hand out, receiving a firm handshake and nod from the Texan man.

"And you must be..." He turns to you.

"I'm y/n, the secret.. not-so-secret third partner." You laughed awkwardly, feeling somewhat out of place with the man and woman.

"That's right, I've only heard your name a handful of times, but it is so nice to finally meet you in person." Frank read your nervous state like a book, giving you peace of mind with a warm smile. Your nervous state diminishes when Frank's words set in, easing a smile onto your face and raising your eyebrows in slight surprise.

He's heard of me? I wonder what Tess's told him...

"It's nice to meet you too, Frank."

The four of you conversed with small talk, only butting in here and there to add something in, mostly keeping to yourself and not wanting to make the wrong impression on Frank. Tess and Joel discuss the details of a trading business between you all.

Soon enough, Bill began to come out with plates and silverware, to which Frank jumped up to help with setting the table.

"I can help if-" You started to speak, feeling a little guilty at not doing anything to help out as a guest.

"No, no. Sit, relax. You're our guests here, and I'm sure your trip has been long and tiring. Besides, it's been a while since I've set the table for more people than just me and Bill, and it's something I've always loved doing." Frank's kind smile once again eases your worries. But you swore to yourself you'd find a way to repay them for this.

You nodded as the two men made several trips to set the table, appreciating every little thing they added to it one after another. Spices, napkins, fine china plates and silverware with no scratches or rust on them. It was all a marvelous sight, one that reminded you of the old world and missing little things like this in times like these.

The amount of objects they'd placed on the table made you forget just how many of those material things you realized living without was doable. Even if you wished there were more aspects of the old world in the present one.

Fiddling with your thumbs again, you listened in to Joel and Tess's muttering about whether or not they could convince the two males on agreeing to work together, until you heard an exclamation from Tess.

"Oh my god.."

Your head jolted up towards the woman, about to ask her the reason for her outburst, until you picked up what had caught her attention.

The smell of fresh, hot food surrounded the three of you, hunger scraping at the edges of your stomach, making it even more evident that your last meal hadn't been as much of a hearty one as you'd wished. Dishes with meat and vegetables were all neatly placed in the same portion sizes as Frank and Bill put each plate down.

Before you dug in, you heard a familiar pop of cork from what you could only assume was a wine bottle. Sure enough, as you looked at Frank, the bottle he'd brought out resembled one you'd buy for a nice meal like this.

It wasn't until you heard the same cocking of Bill's pistol that you froze in your place. You watched as he placed it on the table for you all to see, a statement of protection and untrustworthiness he clearly still saw in the three of you.

Maybe not you or Tess specifically, but Joel, most definitely.

You decide to ignore the firearm's presence on the table, and begin eating the food that's so delicately placed on each of your plates. Instead of scarfing it all down like some rabid animal, you savored each bite of the flavorful, nutritious food and sip of wine like it was your last.

It might as well have been, since you had no idea whether or not you would be working together.

You wondered how people even ate on china plates that were as delicate and prettily detailed in the most extravagant ways. The silverware and wine glasses were also detailed and etched in such a beautiful way. It made you appreciate the smallest things before you had to go without them again.

A while passes, and everyone's finishing their food up. Light gusts of wind flow through Tess's hair as you look over to her, holding the glass of wine in her hand.

"Well, this really is just-- it's amazing." A slight smile on her face brings warmth to your chest, heating your body despite the cool air.

"Right?" Frank looks from Tess to Bill, who still has his pistol on the table, "Can you not please?"

He reaches over Tess's glass to fill it with the dark red alcohol, then reaches over to yours to do the same as you smile at him.

"I'm the same way," Joel states, understanding where Bill's actions are coming from. You realized in that moment that Bill and Joel are more alike than you thought.

"Oh, you're a paranoid schizophrenic too?" There's a slight chuckle that sounds out from you and Tess as Frank speaks.

"I'm not schizophrenic." Bill suddenly retorts, knowing the validity behind the methods to his madness.

Tess clears her throat, attempting to break the awkward tension that's so clearly grown between Bill and Joel.

"Well can I just say, gun aside, which I get, by the way, how nice this is to have a civilized meal in such a beautiful place? It's been so long. I mean it, I just- I wanna thank you. Even if we don't end up working together. I really needed this."

Her words seemed genuine, a slight twinge of silent and repressed pain in what she said. You only knew an extent of Tess's emotional wounds, ones she pushed down to do her job better.

As Frank lifts his wine glass to Tess with a small smile, he states, "We are working together."

The two clink their glasses together, making you raise yours to do the same.

"Cheers." Tess and Frank clink their glasses, and then Tess turns to you in the same fashion, quickly lifting your glass to clink together.

You all finish up your meals, occasionally glancing over to Tess with appreciation that you got to share something this special with your best friend.

And then the realization hit you, she was only your best friend, and you'd wanted to be more with her since she'd revealed a different side of her to you throughout the years. It was a kind, warm, caring side of Tess that made her feel like the familiarity of those strawberry candies that were hard on the outside, but soft, sweet and gooey on the inside. Tess was rough around the edges, but when she was alone with you were the times she revealed a softer side of herself.

Frank hadn't glanced anywhere other than Tess and Joel, picking up the way they discussed with one another, as if they were good business partners and friends. He'd been blinded by the fact that you sat furthest from Joel, barely even glancing his way for a split second.

The moment Frank gets a good look at you at the table is when he picks up on the way you look at Tess; it's different than the way you look at Bill and Joel, and by god does it open his eyes a mile wide. He only hides it behind his all-knowing warm persona and recognizes a light in your eyes that he saw similarly in Bill's the minute before he'd kissed him, that one day in 2007. Three years later, he saw that same spark of light in you, whenever your eyes glazed over to the only other woman at the table.

The warm younger man looks to his partner, who's anything but, to reassure you all again.

"We are." A moment passes as he sips from the wine glass and speaks again, "You know what? Let's go inside. Tess and y/n, I wanna show you something."

Frank begins to stand, lifting his wine glass from the table, Tess following next before you stand as well.

"Oh yes, it sounds amazing, I'd love to see inside." Now more sociable with the two glasses of wine in your system, you catch your balance before pushing your chair out from the table.

"Actually, I have been wanting to see inside, thank you."

Your words and Tess's overlap at the same time, chuckling a little at the synchronized movements and words between you and the older woman.

"Bring your wine. There's more inside."

"No, not inside. Frank.. Frank!" Bill's voice echoes from the table, as Frank holds the front door open for you two.

You're looking down at your feet as you walk up the porch and into the house, unaware that Tess was glancing back every few seconds to see if you followed. As you step inside, you wipe your boots off on the mat and Frank shuts the door behind him.

Your eyes finally pull away from the mat you've wiped your boots off on, to the inside of Bill and Frank's home. A deep breath of air fills your lungs to the brim as the sight of it all is a bit overwhelming.

"Wow..." you sigh, Frank stood behind you, Tess a few feet ahead, "I haven't seen anything like this in so.. long..."

You trail off as the sight of it all renders you speechless. There's candelabras with fresh wax from candles and picture frames with black and white photos. The image of inside makes it feel like a home, something you haven't felt in a very long time.

"Come on, it's right over here." Frank speaks out loud to the both of you, only you're still standing a few feet in front of the door, as the two walk into the open room just right of the stairway.

"Oh wow, look at these photo albums! I haven't seen one of these in forever.. Are they all Bill's?" Tess's voice carries to you from the other room, noticing her slight chuckle as you gaze over to where she's flipping through one of the albums.

"Yeah, yeah they are. Just don't tell him I showed you.." The two continue to giggle to themselves over the old pictures.

"Oh my gosh, I didn't even notice the extensive vinyl collection.. You know, I used to have a turntable back in college. I'd play the same old records every day, annoyed the hell out of my roommates.." Tess chuckles as she talks about her past life, something you always enjoyed hearing about when she brought it up.

With you, she could bring up anything from her old life, and you'd listen to every word.

You still had the suspicion that she and Joel had a thing going on, and your not-so-little crush on her was doing more harm for you than good in that aspect.

Tess and Frank are looking through the collections of vinyl and photos while you nonchalantly watch from afar, eyes glazing over to the massive shelves of books. Most of the ones on lower shelves were Bill's books on survival and guns, but the ones resting on the higher shelves were classics.

Before the outbreak, you'd been a sucker for those. There was something about the art of classic literature, the subtext and deeper meanings under every word. The beauty of those stories was unmatched.

I'd love to read one of those over some wine.. Matter of fact-

"Hey Frank? Where's that other bottle of wine?" You call out to him from the doorway, with your glass still in hand. Frank glances over to you from a few feet away.

"It's in the fridge, wine opener is uh- somewhere in there. You'll find it."

"Okay, thanks."

You finally break off from the two, eyes glazing over every single picture Bill and Frank have of themselves in their home, as well as the paintings Frank's done of Bill and himself.

Striding into the other room, the kitchen was in a state of what looked freshly used; pots and pans were everywhere, the scent of once heated oil lingering.

Your curious eyes peel over all the older pictures, then notice one in color that's stuck to the fridge with a rainbow magnet.

A twinge in your chest comes as well as joy for the two men that happened to find each other among a world of infected and dictatorships.

You just wish it would have happened to you already.

Bill must have had some vintage cameras lying around, ones Frank knew how to use, or learned to use for things like this. You crouched closer to look at the picture of the two men, bodies pressed together and hands clasped in each other's like they never wanted to let go.

And in such a world, why would they want to?

You pull the refrigerator door open, spotting the unopened bottle of red wine in the door. Reaching for it, you read the label, Beaujolais.

Huh, fancy name for a wine. It'll get me drunk all the same though.. Now where is that damn cork opener?

You're rummaging around in the kitchen drawers until you finally find it, oblivious to the fact that Tess has walked up behind you in your haste to find the damn thing. Her grey shirt is unbuttoned, with a white tee underneath. She always had the simplest style, but it didn't stop her from looking fucking stunning in anything she wore. Tess makes her presence known to you, arms folded across her chest as she leans against the doorway. Picturesque light chestnut strands of hair frame the soft features of her face.

"Whatcha got there?" your body whips around, wine bottle and opener in each of your hands (and almost slipping from them), to which Tess smirks a little at the sight.

You were surprised to not have heard the sound of her boots on the wooden floor, but Tess always had a way of surprising you like that.

You smile sheepishly, raising the bottle and wine opener in both your hands. Truth was, Tess popped in at the perfect time; you could never get the hang of opening things like this.

Opening bottles of liquor for you was always Tess's thing, since you didn't have the skill or strength for it. Your hands were just naturally smaller than hers as well, which meant it was only a job for a person with bigger hands.

How you wished you could hold them.

"Just in time. Could you open this for me? It's more your thing than mine.. Please? Before I drop it or something.."

Tess strides towards you and grabs both objects from your hands. She inserts the opener into the cork and twists until the similar pop from earlier indicates she'd removed it, the wine's aroma filling the area between you two.

Her strength was so attractive, the way she could make the simplest things such as opening a wine bottle look hot. The veins in her hands protruded when her grip strained, making you wonder what her hands would look like doing different things.

Tess lifts the cork to her nose, smelling the wine more intensely now, looking angelic as she breaths it in. Then, she lifts it to your nose, the gesture so familiar to you, but yet you've never seen Tess in a moment like this before.

The scent of the liquor paired with how Tess looks in the sunlight peering through the window is intoxicating in itself, as she places the bottle on the counter. Glancing outside, the golden light began to fade fast, darkness approaching quicker than you'd like it to.

With a smile, you walk over to the countertop and pour yourself another glass of wine.

"Thanks... you'll have to teach me that sometime." You couldn't tell if the flush on your cheeks was from the wine, or the gesture Tess just did for you.

"Yeah, but then what would you need me for?" Tess cocks her head to the side, a slight smirk on her face again. That damn smirk.

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed.

As if I could ever go without you, Theresa.

"Oh, please. I'll always need you, Tess."

"Right.. So, Frank said we could stay the night, since it's more dangerous to travel when it isn't daytime. Our visit was longer than expected.." Tess's eyes move from you to outside, where Bill and Joel were still sat, discussing in what looked like a more civilized way than earlier.

"They have enough room for us?" You asked, sipping at the red wine.

"Yeah, they've got two extra bedrooms. So, I figure you and I could share one and give Joel the other room for himself. Plus they said we could use their shower," Tess shuffled closer to you and lowered her voice, "I hear they have hot water.."

Your eyes widened at the thought of a hot shower, something you hadn't realized was accessible anymore. Though, before speaking, you cleared your throat to minimize any indication of nervousness in the fact that you and Tess would be sharing a bed tonight.

"You sure you wouldn't rather room with Joel? I.. move around a lot in my sleep."

A confused look displays itself across Tess's face.

"I mean- I wouldn't want you to wake up with me on top of you or.. anything.." A nervous chuckle erupts from your chest as you laugh your awkwardness off.

"I think that second bottle of wine is what I should be worried about, not your restlessness." She smirks again, "But have fun with that. I'm gonna go wash up. Talk later?"

You only nodded, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of your best friend any more.

As Tess left the room, the strain of your journey finally set in. Soles of your feet began to twinge with pain, carrying you to the next room with the wine bottle and glass in hand.

You saunter into the living room, the amount of wine you've consumed making your cheeks, not to mention your whole body, flush with heat. The weight of your figure flopped down in a corner of the room as you placed the wine bottle down.

You gulped at the rest of the liquid in your glass, putting it on the side table. Gazing around the room at all the vintage items in perfect condition, your eyes meet the tall shelf of classic literature once again.

Pulling yourself from the chair, you pick up the bottle of wine by its neck, instead of pouring yourself another glass.

They're not gonna miss one little bottle... they've got a whole vineyard to themselves.

It's then you hear the front door open finally, Bill and Joel coming in, their discussion a little lighter than the one they were having earlier. You hear a chuckle fall from Joel in his Texan accent and your eyebrows raise.

Wow, they're finally getting along. Maybe we will have new business partners after all..

You stumble over to the bookshelf, about three glasses of wine making your bodily strength diminish with every sip you took. You were in a more tipsy state than usual; not having drank alcohol for years had more of an effect on you than it usually would.

The higher bookshelves are littered with dust, not having been touched since who knows when; you're just tall enough to drag your fingers across the top shelf on your tippy toes, the one below it littered with the many classic stories.

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, Little Women by Louisa May Alcott, Lady Chatterley's Lover by D.H. Lawrence, Emma by Jane Austen.

You read the titles off in your head, fingers trickling over the necks of each hardcover novel, stopping at Little Women and pulling it from the bookshelf. You also grabbed Pride and Prejudice, planning to ask Frank or Bill in the morning to borrow them till your next visit.

Slumping over in the chair again, you open Little Women, pages crinkling as the smell of the vintage book hits your face. It almost makes you sneeze, but you stifle it and begin reading.

You're mumbling to yourself in the little cozy corner of Frank and Bill's house, perched in a red armchair, and it's the most domestic you've ever seen yourself be in a long time. Granted, you were becoming more intoxicated with each gulp of the bitter alcohol you ingested. It floods your insides with warmth, your train of thought sidetracking from the story in your hand to the thought of the gorgeous woman that was Tess Servopolous.

She felt like home, the sweet smile she revealed to you your favorite thing about her. Her hardened exterior cracked and withered away bit by bit with every day you lay in her apartment healing from your injuries.

You're pulled out of the daydream when footsteps descend down the stairway, until the figure turns the corner. Frank's face comes into the warm lamp light, silently walking into the room and fiddling around with a few things before making his way over nearby where you sat.

Over the edges of the book, you watch him grab a few logs of firewood, placing one in the brick fire pit, before lowering your eyes back to the book. A few more minutes pass of his fidgeting before you realize the fireplace has come alive with flames of light.

Waves of heat flood the room, completely bringing your attention away from the book in your hands.

"No way..." Your voice draws Frank's eyes to you.

"Way. You know, my favorite thing to do in the fall is make fires.. Bonfires, campfires, any kind of natural warmth feels so home-like and safe. Don't you think so?"

"Yeah.. my childhood home had such a nice fireplace like this. It's really nice to see and feel again after so long." The two of you share a smile and look at the fire. Flames crackle and burn high, popping at times, the same way it used to before. Silence is adamant throughout the room, clutching the novel in your arms as the flames continue to burn.

"So.. you gonna tell me what's got you slumped over in a corner reading classic literature? I can't imagine it's that riveting.." Frank's tone tells you that he's joking, but you can't help from being at least a little offended in your drunken state.

"Classic literature is actually my favorite genre of novel, for your information. And you wouldn't get it…" The irony of your words slaps you in the face the minute they manifest themselves because.. Frank does know what it's like to feel the way you do. He’s just still in the dark about it.

"Hey, hey. You can tell me what's going on. I may or... may not have any experience on what you're going through."

Then the realization sets in that he's probably felt the way you do his whole life.

It's at that moment you decide to trust him. You close the book over, and look Frank in the eye.

"Okay, but this stays between us. Promise?"

"Of course."

A sigh leaves your chest and you begin to tell him how you feel about a certain one of your smuggling partners.

"Tess saved me... however many years ago it was... I can't remember how long it's been now. I've just always been around her since then. She's done things for me and- and I've done things for her... But I never knew why I always wanted to be around her.. until one night when I had a really, really rough day and she comforted me. I never wanted to leave her arms, and that's when I realized.. I liked her. She's my best friend, Frank.. What would I do if she doesn't feel the same? I don't think I could live with myself if I ruin our friendship because of some stupid fucking crush."

You finished speaking, letting out another sigh like you'd just thrown up all the thoughts reverberating in your head the second you made it out of the QZ walls.

Frank's silent until he speaks, analyzing and connecting dots in his head about this afternoon and the way you'd been acting.

"All that... doesn't sound just like a little crush to me, hon. You love her.. and you want what's best for her. Protecting yourself from the hypothetical hurt of her not feeling the same is valid.. but you're not gonna know how she feels about you if you don't tell her. Take the night, and think on it. Or... go ahead and keep on reading your classic literature while the love of your life goes to sleep upstairs. I'm just saying, if you don't try, then what's the point?"

The next time you look Frank in the eyes, they're filled with kindness, and you can tell he sees you for who you really are. There's no hiding your true self around him, he reads you the same way he read Bill the day he fell in that hole in the ground.

"You know what, you're right. I'm gonna take the night to think about it, thanks, Frank. I don't know what I'd do if I was alone in this."

Frank places his hand over yours in a compassionate and friendly way. He understood where you'd been coming from, especially with the way you both were.

The rest of your night is spent cuddling up under a blanket Frank had placed over your legs before he headed up to bed for the night. The wine drunk put you in an exhausted state, eyelids as heavy as weights until you ended up falling asleep curled up in the chair, fire dwindling away to nothing but embers.

A nudge to your arm slightly pulls you from your slumber, wine bottle abandoned on the floor from earlier. The next thing you feel is a strong grip lifting your body from the chair. With a groan, your arms flail weightlessly to the side, as you're picked up bridal style, the creaking under the wood indicating you were being carried up the stairs.

It's probably Joel who's lifted you like this with no effort at all, no chance it was Frank or Bill. Tess was already asleep too, and once she rested her head, there was no waking her. She slept like a rock.

You figure you're finally up the stairs as the steps steady, pushing the door open silently to the dark bedroom. Finally, you're placed down onto the soft bed, boots being tugged from your feet and placed on the floor. Rolling over a bit, you groan at the comfortable state of the bed.

Already comforted by the blankets, the heat of your body diminishes in the cool, dark room, as you doze off to sleep for the night.

As morning peeks through the shades of the cool bedroom, a pounding headache rammed behind your skull as your eyes inch open. Fluttering profusely, your pupils adjust to the rays of sunlight slowly, head still spinning.

Groaning at the pain, your eyes shift from the window to the side table, where there'd been a glass of water and two pills of Tylenol placed next to a small piece of paper. You sit upright in the bed, truly unable to recall the events of the previous night. The only thing you remembered vaguely was that second bottle of wine, one you regretted even picking up.

You reached for the note, headache only pounding harder as you attempted to read it.

For your head, since you really thought that second bottle of wine was a good idea. We've got breakfast made when you feel well enough. - Frank

It's at that moment you realize your mouth is bone dry, concluding on the fact that you hadn't drank one drop of water last night. As if a desperate plea for the quenching of your thirst, you drop the note in your lap abruptly, gravitating towards the very full glass of water sitting just a foot away.

The liquid slides down your throat as you desperately gulp it down, only stopping for a moment to pop both Tylenol into your mouth. After finishing the glass of water, you look down at the note again.

Signed Frank, but I've seen this handwriting before. Somewhere.. My hungover brain cannot remember right now for the life of me.

A yawn breaks through your chest, your hand instinctively going up to cover your mouth. When the smell of your breath hit your nose, it became apparent to you that you should probably take advantage of the hot and running water in the home.

Quickly, you threw the covers to the side, glancing down at your legs, body covered in the same clothes as yesterday. You didn't even dare attempt to sniff those articles of clothing, knowing how sweat stained they had become on the hike yesterday.

Yeah, you really needed to shower.

Standing from the bed now, you reach over to grab your bag, when you realize you've left it downstairs. Only when you look around the room is when you see a plain grey t-shirt sitting on the arm of a chair.

Tess's shirt, no doubt.

You pick it up and hold it in your hands, the scent of her sure enough surrounding your head.

As tempting as it would be to head back to sleep, you walk over to the bedroom door, opening it to the hallway. It seemed there was nobody remaining upstairs, evident due to the light conversation coming from downstairs. Your socked feet patter across the hall, peeping around a corner before b-lining straight for the bathroom.

Placing the clothing on the countertop, you reach into the shower and start the running water. As it slowly heats the small room, you stride over to a closet, pulling it open to find an abundance of everything you could've ever needed to bathe in the world before. Shampoos, conditioners, body wash, shaving cream and razors.

Wow, these guys really know how to keep inventory. They won't mind if I make use of some of this stuff, I definitely need it more than they do right now.

Steam fills the bathroom as you pull each article of sweat-stained clothing from your body, landing all together in a pile. As you pull the curtain back and step in, the warm water washes over your work-weathered body, goosebumps rising at the comfortably warm liquid.

It was euphoric, the temperature of clean, filtered water paired with the privacy of the shower.

You can only stand still as the dirt and other liquids patter to the tub floor, bringing you lighter in mood and vibrance as well.

As you scrub your scalp with the shampoo, the events of last night finally return to you.

Reading Little Women, admitting how you felt about Tess to Frank- the decision you told him you'd take the night on and think about.

You caught your head in your hands as embarrassment for yourself washed over you, much like the warm water of the shower.

"Ughh, I can't believe I told Frank that stuff.." Although you didn't regret it, not completely. The chat you had actually made you feel better, getting it off your chest after so long of holding it in.

You just wished it would be that easy to tell the person of your affection.

The spray of water from the shower ceased as you turned it off, stepping out onto the bath mat and wrapping a towel around you.

Regrettably, you had no other clothes to change into, so you pull on everything you'd worn the day before, except for your shirt. You put on the grey one for now.

Yep, it definitely smelled like Tess.

Pulling your cargo pants on, you stride out of the steam-filled bathroom, and your feet lead you into Bill and Frank's room.

Though you feel it's trespassing on an already stepped-over line, you head towards their closet, quickly opening the door and taking in the massive amount of flannel shirts hanging there.

Frank had impeccable taste in clothes, deciding to yank one or two of the darkly colored button ups from their hangers. You took a pair of socks as well, since yours had holes in them from their constant use.

You thought about not telling Frank about your thievery, but it's going to become imminent when you walk down the stairs with his shirts in your arms. So you shove them in your bag once you find it resting next to the bed.

Heading back into the guest bedroom, you pull the fresh pair of socks onto your feet, beginning to reach for your black boots sitting on the floor. Reaching down for one, you hear a knock at the door before you can grab it.

Quickly, you stride over to the door, expecting to see Frank or Bill on the other side with a message from your partners about hurrying to leave or something along those lines.

To your surprise, the face on the other side of the door is Tess.

Shit, Tess. The person you promised Frank you'd confess to last night over a drunken conversation.

She looks well rested, wearing a different shirt than the one from yesterday. It's a dark green, that compliments her eye color and the wisps of her caramel hair framing her face. Her hair is in that half up-half down bun, the rest of it resting behind her shoulders.

She looks fucking perfect, and you look like a wet dog, hair still damp from your shower.

"Hey, morning. How'd you sleep? I uh-" Tess is pulling at her collar awkwardly, standing in the same fashion as your eyes finally trail down to what she'd holding in her hands.

She had a plate in her grip, covered in freshly made, very appetizing breakfast foods. Some so freshly made, there was still steam coming off of it.

You're thankful in this moment to have taken those Tylenol earlier, or else the smell of any food whatsoever would've sent you hurling over the toilet like a hungover sorority girl.

"Oh my god, Tess. What is all this?" Your eyes widened in surprise, the smell catching your attention even before you had seen the plate of food in her hands.

"Well, you need a big breakfast for the journey back to Boston today, and I figured you could use it after last night.." A chuckle breaks through her chest, head dipping downwards before looking at your freshened state.

"Come- come in." You move aside for Tess to enter the bedroom, assuming you'd slept alone in here for the night. As she places the tray down on the bed, you sit down, Tess standing a few feet away.

"Tess, did you make this? What the hell- This looks amazing.. Eggs, sausage, hash browns? These are all my favorites.. Seriously, thank you. Wh-what can I do to make it up to you?"

"Well, first of all, breakfast is the most important meal of the day. And second of all, don't thank me, thank Bill and Frank, it's their food I cooked. Consider it a hangover cure. Once I get so drunk that I fall asleep in an armchair with a classic book in my lap, then you can pay me back. It better be a damn good breakfast." She chuckles again, in that low voice that keeps you up at night when you think about it.

The way it says your name, her low tone when she curses under her breath, the way she sounds in the early mornings when the sun still hasn't risen and she's drowsy enough to not make any sense in her muttering.

Tess went through all the trouble of making everything she knew you favored, the mere thought of her thinking about you as she cooked it all only made your enamor for her grow stronger, a fire of love burning behind your chest for the woman in front of you.

It's then she takes a seat on the bed with you, watching as you poke into the eggs and begin devouring the food on your plate. She wasn't leaving, by the looks of it.

In the middle of chewing your food, you speak again.

"Did Frank tell you I passed out down there?"

Her grin becomes larger now as her eyes move from the plate of food to your face as you consume your breakfast.

I wonder what else he told her. Hopefully nothing I haven't yet...

"No, I'm the one that found you, silly. Carried you up the stairs and put you to bed myself."

You continue chewing as your eyes widen, another realization from last night coming back to mind.

It wasn't Joel carrying you, it was Tess.

"You carried me up the stairs? Wow, I'm gonna have to start lifting weights if I have to do the same for you."

While you speak, you're enjoying every morsel of this delicious food Tess has made you, and you're grateful for her in so many more ways than you could express presently.

"You better," Tess says with a scoff. A couple more minutes pass by as you're finishing up the food on your plate. You notice that she's still sitting in the room with you, taking your silence as a sign of comfortability around her.

"So, what's up, Tess?" You say, shoving another fork full of hash browns into your mouth.

"Well, I came to check on you, since last night Frank told me you were drinking a whole 'nother bottle of wine by yourself.. and reading classic literature? For fun?" She laughs.. "I figured you might be hungover this morning and wanted to bring you something to fill your stomach. I can't have you fainting on me when we hike back to the QZ, now can I? Gotta keep your strength up, hun."

The name melts your heart a little and you smile. It was such a simple thing, one that indicated she cared about your wellbeing and didn't want to see you unwell.

"Yeah, always gotta be nourished and shit. Just human things, I guess. Though, a meal like this never gets old." You said with a smile.

It became more difficult to hold back the thoughts of holding and kissing the woman before you, her green button down shirt just aching to be pulled in order to kiss her. Those perfect hazel eyes of hers that resembled gems when they hit the sun just right, getting effortlessly lost in them every time they locked with yours. Her hands that completed her daily tasks so beautifully, with such care and concern in everything she did making you think she'd hold you the same way, love you the same beautiful way she did everything in her life with.

"I'm guessing you're feeling alright, then? Tylenol helped?" It was cute that Tess was still worrying about how you were feeling from the night before. Putting the fork down finally, you looked up at her.

"Yeah I- Wait, how'd you know I took Tylenol?" You hadn't mentioned anything to her about taking medicine.. so how did she know?

"Well I uh- I just.." She scoffed lightly before continuing, "I asked Frank to leave some by your bedside earlier and I was really worried about you, since yesterday. You don't drink like that unless something's bothering you."

Her eyes focused on you, hair lightly spilling over her shoulder, and she's in the moment with you now more than she had ever been. It's almost like she's reading you when you glance up again, pulling at the collar of your shirt.

"I know, Tess. It's just-" you sigh, thumbs fiddling with each other, palms beginning to prick ever so lightly with sweat.

"You can tell me anything, you know that right?" Her voice was sweet and soft, lowering a bit to hopefully ease your worries. One of her hands grabs yours, and the sensation is enough to make the breath in your lungs hitch.

If there was any perfect moment to confess, this was it.

"Tess, there's something I need to tell you." A slight quiver of your voice tells her that this thing that had been bothering you clearly meant a lot. You keeping things from her wasn't a common occurrence, which only happens when something was beyond frustrating for you to talk about.

"Okay, what is it?"

You're infuriatingly beautiful and I want to kiss you right now.

"It's the fact that I'm over here pining like an idiot for you and you can't even see it.." You mutter, not wanting to look Tess's way for fear of judgment or rejection. She notices, and in that very moment she longs to see the fire in your eyes burn its brightest. "It's the fact that- that I love you, and you probably love someone else.."

"Someone else?" Tess scoffed, "And who do you think that is, huh?"

"I don't know.. Joel, maybe.." Head still hung, your hands shake slightly, chest filled to the brim with uneasiness and anxiety.

Was it just you, or did the temperature in here get hotter?

"Y/n, look at me." You hesitate for a moment, then slowly your eyes move from their locked position on your hands.

Tess's hands are fidgeting in her lap too, you notice.

The second you lift your head, the glossy state of your eyes catches her attention, and her face eases once you're looking directly at her. Tess's bottom lip catches between her teeth for a moment, and she glances down swiftly, then back up at you.

"Joel and I are nothing but friends, you understand? I don't want him, never have." The words hit your ears and it's as if a weight lights off your shoulders.

It's the most clarifying moment that makes you giddy to spill everything onto her lap.

"Tess.." you breathe, closing your eyes for a moment and making a decision, "Please don't shoot me for this..."

You begin to lean in towards her, eyelids hooded as you glance down to her lips, watching intently as she does the same. It feels like an eternity before you're close enough to pick up on her natural scent, consuming your brain and going fuzzy upon the close proximity.

A warm tingling fills your hands as they brush over Tess's thighs and hover just over the dark denim covering them.

Once, twice, three times you glanced down at her lips, pausing to drag your eyes across her flawless face.

"Are you gonna kiss me, or what?" Her snarky tone pulls your eyes back to gaze into her hazel ones, almost getting lost in them before getting the courage to do something you couldn't come back from.

"Shut up," You say, before your hands grab onto her collar, and pull her lips to yours. Her kiss takes your breath away, crawling into her lap, collar of Tess's shirt still in your grip. Sparks flicker in your chest, and they're coming off of Tess's as well, deepening the kiss with another push of your lips against hers.

The weight of you in her lap pulls a groan from the woman opposite you, separating your lips from hers. You almost couldn't pull away, but the thought of hurting her made your worry jump a mile high.

"Shit.. Are-are you okay?" Tess gives you another peck on your lips, before trailing her eyes down your face and neck. The smirk on her face makes the heat from your cheeks travel down your torso.

"Oh, I'm better than ever... you wanna know why?"

Nodding your head fervently, her hands trail up your shirt to your collar, watching as her pupils dilate around the hazel in her eyes. The grasp on your shirt is tight, even tighter when she beckons you impossibly closer to her. The next moment, she's pulling your lips to hers in another passionate kiss. Your lips are pressed together for so long, it feels like you're out of breath by the time she pulls away.

"It's because I love you." The three words fall from her lips like a siren beckoning you with its song. Her voice has never sounded more perfect, and when she says those words to you, it's an indescribable amount of joy that fills your chest.

Her panting is an indication of not being able to breathe, but she doesn't fucking care if she got to kiss you like that.

"You love me, too?" Out of curiosity, you ask again, just to make sure it registers in your brain. Disbelief makes your heart jump, even though you've just kissed her, and you never wanted to stop.

Even though she told you she felt the same way, it was still a dream.

"Of fucking course I do. Ever since I took care of you, those few months you were living in my apartment. How could I not?" One of her hands trails up your face, brushing some stray hairs obstructing her view, so she could look at you fully.

The woman you've pined after for years has loved you all the same, and the realization feels a lot like you've wasted so much time behind a closed door. Sleepless nights went by with you writing about her in your journal, detailing all the ways you would love her if she only loved you back.

Tess adored you, she just hadn't let herself show it or feel any other way than a friend, and she'd been terrified to lose you if she fucked any of that up. The years and years of pining built to this very moment, tension in the room thick as you gazed at her lovingly.

"Tess.. kiss me again..."

It was a desperate plea for that fucking woman to press your lips to hers so you could taste her even stronger than you thought you could handle.

"I don't think I'll be able to stop if I do." Her low voice made your legs tremble, a new kind of desire growing due to her.

"Then don't." Your lips clashed together with hers, tongues exploring each other's mouths in a feverish attempt to taste even more of you than she already had.

The truth was, she had all of you for a long time, and now she couldn't imagine needing anything more.

A soft moan is pulled from your chest as Tess's teeth nip at your bottom lip. The both of you seem breathless as you pull away again, but every time you glance down at her swollen lips is when you want to just press them to yours over and over again.

"God, you're so beautiful, it's hard to look directly at you sometimes." Her words catch you off guard, feeling your eager hands travel up her neck, one resting on her shoulder while the other sneaks your fingers between her soft strands of hair. Twirling a lock of it, the blush on your face makes her smirk.

"Stop it, I mean just look at yourself. You're so hot and intimidating and perfect and-"

"You saying you're not those things?" Her brows furrow in distaste, because how dare you suggest otherwise.

"I'm saying you are. Pretty girl." A giggle erupts from your chest, raking your fingers through her hair with appreciation.

"If you don't say you're all of those things right this second, love, I'm just gonna have to prove it to you. And you know I will."

Your eyebrows raise, wanting to pull a little sneaky trick on her.

"Say that I'm what?" The smirk on your face makes Tess blush a little, chuckling to herself because she knows exactly what you're doing.

"Say that you're..." One of her hands goes to the top button of your shirt and unbuttons it as she places a quick peck on your cheek, "Perfect, intimidating, hot, everything I want.. God, fuck. Look at what you do to me.."

Her nimble fingers trail down your shirt, undoing each button carefully, letting the shirt fall open to your sides. Hands rest on the skin of your sides, just under the shirt you're wearing. Her shirt you're wearing.

"Tess.." You sigh breathlessly, still trying to gain back whatever air was pulled out of your lungs just a moment earlier.

"Hmm? Tell me what you want, baby." She tilts her head ever so slightly, the smirk on her face only enlarging when she sees the desire in your lust-blown eyes. Her pet name all but pulls a squeal from your chest, scrunching your nose upon hearing her low words.

"I want you, Tess. God, I want all of you.. But we can't-" Your hands run up and down her sides, shaking ever so slightly at her intimidating smirk.

"We can do anything we want, sweetheart. I've got you, now. No one's gonna take you away from me, ever. And no one's taking me from you. Got it?"

It's so warm, so Tess, such a loving and nurturing side of her that spills those words into your chest like a goddamn golden light, and it brings tears to your eyes. Sniffling, you try to blink them away every second they threaten to fall from your eyes.

The close proximity of her immediately pulls you into a safe hug, tears dropping on the cloth of her shirt, dampening the fabric bit by bit. Her hand rubs up and down your back, comfort surrounding you in the moment like nothing else in the world.

"So-sorry, Tess, I didn't mean to get your shirt all wet," You say, pulling back from her embrace, "I'm just.. so fucking happy because I love you and- and you're finally mine."

The words come out like the easiest thing in the world, like you could tell her your deepest darkest secrets and she'd still love you completely as you are.

"Aw, you look so pretty when you're in love. 'Bout the most perfect thing in the whole world to me, pretty girl."

"Well, yeah. It's all your fault that I'm crying like a sap, dummy." You playfully punch her shoulder and wipe your face, tears finally ceasing their descent from your eyes.

"You love me that much, huh?" This time, Tess's smile is sweet, intimate and all but this time your eyes lock with hers in a deep gaze.

"Love you even more than that, Tess." A giggle erupts from your chest as her lips press ever so lightly to your neck, ghosting feather light kisses across your skin. Before she pulls back, she attaches her lips to your skin and sucks obsessively, in the same spot. A particularly sensitive spot she gets to pulls a whimper from your chest, the sound making her pull away from kissing you, eyebrows raised with curiosity.

"What was that, baby?" You whimper again, embarrassment washing over you while your cheeks are being painted with a blush.

"Need you, Tess. Need you so bad.." The last word comes out rather quickly, hips rolling against hers ever so slightly.

"I'm right here, honey. Tell me what you need from me, and I'll give it to you." Her words come out like a plead, work-worn hands and fingers trailing over the waistband of your pants. "Come on, we don't have much time. Joel wants to get on the road soon.."

Oh God. Joel. Bill. Frank.

Your thoughts freeze and think to the three other men in the house, or probably somewhere nearby, if not lingering just a few feet away down the stairs.

"Shit, should we-"

"Yes, my love, we should. After all this time, we should."

"But the door-"

The bedroom door; it was swung almost completely open.

"Guess you better be quiet then." She mutters, voice low with lust and the need for you to fall apart for her just once before their travels.

"Tess-" You whimper breathlessly, and before you can speak another word, her lips attach to yours again. Her hair smells like lavender, and her lips taste like strawberries.

"Do you trust me?" She asks, wanting to know you're okay with her going further.

"You know I do. I trust you with my life." You reply, almost immediately. Her soft eyes gaze into yours and she nods.

It's the most perfect vision of Tess you've had your entire life, and nothing in this world could tear you away from that.

Once you feel her hands unbuckling your pants successfully, one of her hands slips down under the fabric, bypassing your underwear right down to where she knows you need her.

Her middle and ring finger slide through the arousal between your legs, and the second she feels you throbbing against her, is when her kisses trail from your mouth to your neck.

"Tess, fuck-" You whimper out, as her fingertips swirl around the most sensitive part of you.

"Needy girl, aren't you? So gorgeous..." The smirk on her face turns devious when her eyes meet yours again, catching how your face contorts with pleasure under her doing.

Another mewl leaves your chest, nodding fervently once again.

"Shit, all wet for me? You really know how to make a woman happy.." The slight laughter from her chest makes you clench around nothing. Nothing, until her fingers pursue lower than your sensitive bundle of nerves. Deep breaths of air make your chest heave, and Tess is only relishing in the way you're falling apart completely for her.

Before you feel her fingers prodding at your entrance, your hand grabs her forearm and she halts her movements.

"What about you?" Your eyes seem to beg for her without saying another word more, and she hesitates for a moment, until she speaks.

"You don't have to, love. You feeling good makes me feel good and-"

She pauses her words, because your doe eyes make whatever was left of her resolve break, the instant she looks into them.

"Alright, baby. Go ahead, touch me.. I need you, too." A smile breaks out onto your face, hands gravitating towards her belt, undoing it as fast as she can complete her sentence to satisfy you.

One of your hands slips down between her legs, watching as her eyes close in bliss at the first light drag of your fingers down her heat.

"Fuck.." Her head gets thrown back while her eyes shut at the amount of pleasure and love you have for her in that very moment. Tess curses under her breath as you begin slow circles on her most sensitive part of her body, goosebumps trailing all over her skin.

"Now who's the needy one?" She glances back up to your eyes, and just like that, her intimidating demeanor returns.

You almost yelp aloud when she pushes a finger inside of you, but her lips press against yours before you could do so. The fervent exchange of moans between each swirl of your fingers, and each thrust of Tess's fingers inside of you makes the moment feel infinite.

Everything you've ever wanted, you finally had.

She was yours to touch, to hold, to please. Tess gave you all of her, completely and irrevocably.

"Tess.. fuck, I love you.. I- never wanna be with anyone else but you.." Your tone of voice is pitched higher, submerged in the pleasure she brought. She could tell you were inching closer to release with every swirl of her fingers.

"I love you, baby. With everything inside of me. It's you. Only you.. Now be a good girl and come with me."

"Are you gonna-"

"Yeah, I am. Fuck- keep going, just like that. Cmon, baby." The hand that wasn't inside your pants snuck up to your hair, grabbing a handful and pulling in silent demand.

Sighing dreamily, Tess pulled her fingers out of you and rubbed incessantly at your precious bundle of nerves, triggering your hips to rock against hers.

"Tess.." You moan out loud, almost too loud for the people downstairs to hear, but at the same time, you don't care. Not when Tess is giving you the most pleasure you think you've ever experienced in your life.

"I love it when you moan my name.. Say it again." Her fingers swirl to no end, feeling a jolt of pleasure wash through you as your high began to rush towards you.

"Tess, fuck. Oh my god Tess- baby I'm gonna come.." Your sounds are uncontrollable now as your release is beckoning you further.

"Yeah, hun? Gonna come for me?" Your hand speeds up your movements on her sensitive bud of nerves, another low moan leaving her chest, dripping with desire.

"Oh, baby, I'm-I'm.."

"Me too baby, yeah..." Tess calls out, her movements on your clit pushing you over the edge, her high washing over her intensely.

A few more filthy moans leave your chest, release crashing over you like a wave, running throughout your body with relief, your partner helping you ride it out before you finally look back up at her.

Sweat adorns her skin, chest heaving as she pulls her fingers from your pants. You do the same, only watching as she licks her fingers seductively. Another wave of pleasure threatens to overtake you, just by watching her do that.

"Holy shit... that was amazing. I knew your hands were good for more than just holding a gun and punching people." Your head tilts back the slightest bit as you try to catch your breath after the immense pleasure washed over you only moments ago.

"For our first time, that's nothing compared to what I've been thinking about doing to you for months now.." The smirk on her face threatens the rise of arousal again, though you're too exhausted now to even think about doing that, with what a long journey you've got ahead of you.

"You-" Tess raises an eyebrow at your speechlessness, "are the most beautiful woman in the whole world, and you chose to love me. Isn't that something."

Your words make her blush again, leaving a few small pecks on your cheeks, before pressing one to your lips again. Then, Tess's hands reach to your pants once more, doing the zipper up and buttoning them so she could do the same to hers.

"Well, I don't think we choose who we love. But if it was.. it's because you're the most perfect person in the world. Isn't that something.."

You look to Tess with a soft smile, one that makes both of you appreciate the domesticity of your conversation at hand.

"Yeah, it is," You say, taking her hands in yours and interlocking your fingers together, "So, what does all this make us?"

You catch Tess staring into your eyes again, and it takes a second for her to respond.

"Well, I'm already in love with you, so whatever you want, I want it too. I'm all in, for you. That sound good?"

God, you've waited forever to hear those words.

Attaching your lips with hers, it's a slow, soft kiss, almost stopping time with how you craved more every second that went by. As you pull away, Tess looks radiant in the sunlight that's pouring through the window even more now.

Her words turn you speechless, already knowing you called her 'mine' but hearing it from the velvet voice of your lover made your heart swell ten times bigger.

"It sounds wonderful, Tess." You lean in for another kiss, soft and sweet, until you pull back again, "You'll have to teach me how to open wine bottles, though."

"Nah, I think I'd rather just keep doing it for you." Your lips locked in another kiss, one you wished would last forever.

"Oh, one more thing," Tess goes digging in her back pocket, pulling out a blue tube, "Deodorant. You stink like sex."

"And whose fault is that?" You quip, grabbing the tube from her and rubbing it under your armpits.

Tess shrugged, almost pulling you in for another kiss, until the sound of a male voice from downstairs snapped both of you out of the daydream.

"Shit, Joel. He's gonna be mad that I took so long up here.. that-that we took so long-" You begin to speak, pulling yourself from the bed, reaching down to slip your boots on.

"Joel Miller is not gonna say anything when he sees that hickey." Tess mumbles, standing from the bed as well, adjusting her shirt from where you'd grasped it before.

"What mark? Oh, Tess.. you didn't.." You rush over to the mirror hanging on the wall, and pull your collar to the side abruptly to see the darkening purple bruise on your neck. You scoff, only buttoning up your shirt with haste to get out the door.

"I did. Couldn't help myself, you know. You're all mine now, had to make sure everyone in Boston knows you're spoken for."

She walks up behind you, placing her hands on your hips as you continue buttoning the flannel up. You scoff, flipping your head around to kiss her on the lips again.

"Yeah, well did you have to make it so dark?" You questioned, knowing she could've gone lighter but didn't.

"You already know the answer to that. Now c'mon, let's not keep the man waiting." Tess pulls you by your hand to the door, looking back once more as you exit the room and walk down the stairs with her hand in yours.

Just as you thought he'd be, Joel was pacing downstairs with his pack already on his back.

"There y'all are.. was starting to get worried about- Oh." The tall, Texan man clears his throat when his eyes spot the mark on your neck, eyes immediately avoiding yours.

"Yeah.. I'll grab our packs and meet you outside. Cool?" Tess says, before sharing a look with Joel, not saying anything more as he turns to walk out to the front yard. Her hand slips from yours every so slightly, and you already miss the warmth and love in her contact the second it drops from you.

"Hey, wait- where's Frank?" You call out to Joel, but he's already to the gate of their yard before he can hear you.

"In here!" Frank's voice comes from the living room, and you saunter over to him.

"Hey, morning. Listen, I wanted to thank you for everything. What you said to me last night, and just your hospitality and all you're gonna help us with when we start working together. I mean it- I'm really grateful."

Frank looks up from the vinyl he's sifting through, and meets your eyes with a compassionate smile.

"I take it this morning went... well?" He gestures to the mark on your neck, one of your hands going up to sheepishly cover it, a bit embarrassed that you let her go that far.

"Oh, um. Yeah, very well. I did that thing we talked about." As soon as the words hit his ears, he's grinning from ear to ear and throws his arms around you with a tight embrace, one that caught you off guard, but you hugged back, nonetheless. The smile is still beaming on his face as he pulls away.

"I knew it would go well. You two.." He shakes his head, hands on his hips, "Sparks were basically flying over lunch yesterday, every time one of you looked at each other.. Wait- Is that my shirt? Nevermind, keep it. Looks better on you anyway."

Frank laughs at the realization that you didn't have fresh clothes after showering, so he understood.

"Seriously, thank you. For everything, again."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm such a matchmaker. Now go, run to your lover, and never let her go, okay? She's one special woman."

"Yeah, that she is.." Your gaze shifts from Frank to Tess appearing in the doorway with your pack in her hand.

"Oh, one more thing." Frank hands you the books you'd taken down from their shelves last night, Little Women and Pride and Prejudice. "Don't worry, Bill said it's alright. He doesn't read classics, anyways. You'll come back, and we'll trade."

That's the last thing Frank says before Tess beckons you back to her.

"You ready to go? Joel's gonna lose his marbles if we make him wait any longer, so.." Tess asks you, standing a few feet away, but it felt like miles before you could get back to her.

"Oh, God forbid a man wait on two fine ladies, such as yourselves." Frank says, turning Tess's way as you walk towards her, grabbing your pack from her hand and putting the two books into it, before slinging it onto your back.

"You make a good point, but he's gonna be grouchy the whole hike. He'll be done with our lovesick asses once we get back to the QZ." You say with a giggle, pressing a quick kiss to Tess's lips.

"Well, it's been lovely having you here, I'm not sure where Bill's run off to, but I'm sure he says goodbye as well. I'll walk you to the gate, since there's an idea I have as to how we can communicate back and forth on the radio.. I'll tell you on the way."

Frank follows you both out the door, spotting Bill already at the gate, the same holster with his pistol sticking out from his otherwise plain outfit.

As Joel finally spots the three of you coming from the house, he darts right out of their front yard, b-lining for the gate.

"Guess he's got a new friend..." You mutter to Tess, Joel's steps bringing him towards the gate faster than you three were walking.

"Maybe he just doesn't wanna look at the huge hickey on your neck." She retorts, her reasoning better than anything else you came up with.

Chuckling, you nudge her side, hands falling beside each other's before locking your fingers together again.

Frank catches up, walking alongside Tess as he begins to explain his idea for communication back and forth.

"So, I had this idea that we should use codes for the radio, in case anyone's listening."

"That's a good idea. Like, with what?" Tess tilts her head over to the man in curiosity.

"I was thinking, like, the decades. Like- 80's, trouble, of course." Frank states, as if he's put immense thought into something as simple as this.

"Yeah..?"

"70's- for when we get new stuff to trade with.. and 60's for not having anything new. Sound good?"

"Yeah, Frank. That's actually really clever. I mean, I wouldn't have thought of that. Right, babe?" It's the first use of any pet name around people, and you can tell it puts Tess in a lighter mood just by hearing you say it.

"Right. Well, radio back to me when you guys are ready to start our business together." He reaches out to shake Tess's hand, "Otherwise, it has been lovely having you three here, and I'm so ecstatic to have you back whenever." Frank stood still, watching you all walk ahead.

The sound of Joel's boots on the pavement approaching you all force you to turn your heads towards the third partner in your group.

"What are y'all lookin' at? Let's head out, already. Whenever you lovebirds are done.."

Grumpy exterior, but an ally, all the same.

"What are we gonna do with him..."

"Yeah, he's not nearly as much fun as you." Nudging her shoulder again, your bottom lip catches between your teeth for a slight moment. Tess's hair is blowing in the wind slightly, and you can't help but smile at the beauty of the woman you called the love of your life.

You share a look between Tess's eyes and your own, before tugging her along as you walk ahead, attached by a soul tie at your hands, linked together for a lifetime.

#ryesff #devnmon writes #tess servopoulos #tess servopoulos x reader #tess servopolous x female reader #tlou fanfic #tlou #lesbian #lgbt #other characters for exposure: #Joel Miller #Ellie Williams #The Last of Us fanfiction #tlou smut #The Last of Us #anna torv #tlou hbo #pedro pascal #bella ramsey

[1dmonthlyficroundup]

— 1D Monthly Fic Roundup —

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for July 2023! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month in the order they were submitted to the blog. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​. You can find all our other posts here.

Happy reading!

＊ Rode Hard and Put Away Wet by @kingsofeverything [E, 6k, Louis/Harry]

Louis heard the same rumours in London, New York, and L.A., and he put them all to rest, but in Texas? Part 7 of Tiny Penis Fics

＊ Truth or Drink by @kingsofeverything [M, 6k, Harry/Louis]

Truth or Drink | Exes, Harry and Louis broke up years ago, and they're seeing each other again for the first time to play Truth or Drink. On camera.

＊ On That Note by @allwaswell16 [E, 6k, Louis/Harry]

Louis’ office job on an omega only floor would be absolutely fine, if not for the alphas he and his friends have to deal with in the building. But although they’ve never met face to face, the friendly notes sent between him and Harry in Purchasing help him get through the day.

＊ In Time by @allwaswell16 [M, 2k, Harry/Louis]

Harry's uncertainty about their relationship began before he ever stepped foot on the plane to Amsterdam.

A prequel/timestamp Part 2 of Bitter Ends Turn Sweet

＊ Yours and Mine by @allwaswell16 [T, 1k, Louis/Harry]

Louis goes to the library with his favourite people, his boyfriend Harry and his son, Max. A Bitter Ends Turns Sweet timestamp

Part 3 of Bitter Ends Turn Sweet

＊ Come for the Camera by larry_hiatus / @larry-hiatus [E, 5k, Louis/Harry]

Harry’s feeling emotional after his second to last show. Not wanting to lose himself in the sadness just yet, he decides he needs his dom to help him feel better. After a cheeky comment on stage about making an Only Fans, Louis has an idea to give Harry the distraction he craves.

＊ Everything Is Batter With You by red_panda28 / @red-pandaaa [T, 2k, Harry/Louis]

“What am I looking at?” Louis frowned, tapping the screen to unpause the video. The music started again, and Harry looked expectantly at Louis’ expression as he watched the TikTok Harry had just come across.

“So, what do you think?” Harry’s voice could barely contain the excitement about his find.Louis still didn't seem convinced as he gave Harry his phone back.

“It looked pretty?” he tried, obviously not having grasped Harry’s point yet.

“We should do that!”

Raising an eyebrow, Louis shot him an unimpressed look.

“And by ‘we’ you mean you’ll cook, and I’ll eat?” he deadpanned.

OR

Harry comes across a fun baking TikTok and convinces Louis to do it

＊ Torn-Up Tank Top by red_panda28 / @red-pandaaa [E, 1k, Louis/Harry]

His Omega sat on his knees in the middle of the bed, completely naked, with one hand disappearing behind him and the other pressing a piece of dark fabric to his nose. From the rhythmic rising and falling of his body, coupled with the squelching sound Louis could make an educated guess about where exactly Harry’s other hand was.

The younger boy didn't seem to have heard him entering, his movements never faltering as he nuzzled into whatever he was holding in his hand.

OR Alpha Louis gets back to the hotel after his show, missing a torn up tank top and his Omega

＊ Looking At You Makes Me Feel Complete by red_panda28 / @red-pandaaa [E, 6k, Louis/Harry]

Though, to be honest, Harry was mostly just watching Louis. The way his black vest, threadbare from wear, was clinging to his torso and every now and then it would ride up his stomach and expose a hint of abs when Louis stretched.The way his dark grey skinny jeans hugged his legs, accentuating the curve of his arse and showing off thick, muscular thighs. Harry wanted so live between those thighs.The worst was the way just Louis’ presence alone seemed to brighten up the space every time he entered the room.

OR Five times Harry is looking at Louis and the one time Louis looks back

＊ Lick the Knife by larry_hiatus / @larry-hiatus [E, 13k, Harry/Louis]

Three things about Harry: 1. He wants all of his exes dead. 2. He has a blood kink. 3. He’s Louis’ roommate.

Three things about Louis: 1. He’s a serial killer. 2. He hates Harry. 3. He also kind of loves him.

＊ Men of Steel, Men of Power by Stria / @nooradeservedbetter [E, 58k, Harry/Louis]

“You’ve been watching me,” Styles said. Louis swallowed around nothing. He tried for light. “You’re the newest addition, people are bound to be curious,” he said. “Sure,” said Styles, in a somewhat condescending tone. “I’m not that daft, I do notice the curiosity regarding my clothes. That’s not what you’re doing though, hm?” Styles’ gaze was intense, and Louis could feel it burn on the side of his face, but kept his eyes stubbornly on the coffee cup. “I,” he said, licked his lips. Took a deep breath, tried to look open, confident, dominant.

Alpha.

Louis has one goal: survive this year unscathed to complete his grand plan, for which he has sacrificed his family, his friends. His identity. he's not expecting Alpha Harry, who manages to get under his skin and inside his heart. He suddenly has a lot more to lose, and a lot less control.

＊ Raunchy Little Rockstar by larry_hiatus / @larry-hiatus [E, 4k, Louis/Harry]

Harry loves his new outfit, especially since it shows off even more skin than usual, and he finds himself really getting into his performance. His dom Louis has mixed feelings about so much of Harry's back showing, but he gives Harry a new nickname that the boy can’t get enough of.

＊ Til the Afterglow by @hellolovers13 [E, 8k, Niall/Harry/Louis]

When Harry goes into heat in a random hotel room a thousand miles from home, there's more than one Alpha offering his help.

Harry can't possibly be asked to choose.

＊ I'll Get You Through by @hellolovers13 [G, 1k, Louis/Harry]

Louis will always pick up when Harry calls.

Always.

＊ we don't fight fair by @hellolovers13 [E, 2k, Harry/Louis]

“What, you think I'll just roll over for you now?”

The smirk on Louis’ face was almost devilish. “Yes,” He breathed against Harry’s lips, cocky and sure, like it was a fact of life.

It sent all kinds of shivers through Harry. God, but he wanted to. Wanted Louis to have him right against this wall, let everyone see how he fell apart under him.

But not tonight.

Harry fixed his posture, standing up straighter and trying to get himself under control. “I don't think so, omega.”

Or: Nothing like a little chase to start off Louis' heat.

＊ Secret Moments by @hellolovers13 [G, 1k, Louis/Harry]

Harry's first dress.

＊ Give it Good by larry_hiatus / @larry-hiatus [E, 4k, Harry/Louis]

Harry’s fans are always throwing things to him on stage, and he catches and keeps a lot of the items. When he forgets to take off a certain bracelet before bed, Louis sees it and has a bit of a laugh. The cheeky jewellery in combination with the way Harry previously asked for the coming out music during his show gives Louis an idea.

＊ Could’ve followed my fears all the way down (this is me trying) by Inoday / @tobethemselves [T, 4k, Harry/Louis]

They‘ve changed though. And it’s Harry’s fault. He knows it. He’s wrapped up in his own mind, an awful sort of knot that he can’t figure out how to untangle, and the one thing that always works isn’t working anymore. He feels stuck and doesn’t know what to do. But at the same time he knows, if he doesn’t do anything soon, everything could crumble at his feet.

Louis is the only one who’s able to get through to Harry and that wasn’t supposed to stop. He’s always been the one to break down Harry’s walls, and it’s okay if Harry starts to lose himself in the process, because Louis always, always builds him back up again, pieces him back together.

Or, Louis is always the one who breaks down Harry’s walls. Only this time it takes him a bit longer.

＊ Rush of Rapture by larry_hiatus / @larry-hiatus [E, 4k, Louis/Harry]

Between the slow and dirty coming out music, and a fan showing him the word ‘poppers’ on their phone, Harry’s naughty mind is all over the place during his concert. Luckily dom Louis is two steps ahead and has the perfect cure for the post show buzz that Harry can’t shake.

＊ you give me feelings that i adore by @alwaysxlarrie [T, 7k, Louis/Harry]

Harry doesn’t mean to fall in love with Louis’ scent when they first meet after the Alpha joins Harry's study group, but after Harry leaves a sweater behind by accident and it comes back smelling like Louis, he can’t really help it. Nor can he really help continuing to leave his things behind in hopes that Louis will take them home and drench them in his wonderful, mouth-watering scent. He just has to hope Louis will play along.

Or, 5 times Louis scents Harry's things and the 1 time Harry returns the gesture.

＊ You Are My Baby (I can not resist this) by larry_hiatus / @larry-hiatus [E, 7k, Harry/Louis]

Louis knows something is off as soon as he comes home, but he is surprised to find Harry in his nest of stuffed animals, feeling little and on the brink of a heat. What also surprises him is how jealous he gets over the plushie he gives Harry to start his heat with.

＊ De amore ex tempore by @persephoneflouwers [M, 101k, Louis/Harry]

"Jump! For fuck's sake, Louis, jump!"

Louis looks down curiously at the ground and notices that the backpack is gone. The grass appears greener than it did before; a minute ago there were streetlights in front of him - why is there no light now? His brows furrow.

“Is there a blackout tonight?”

He starts coughing uncontrollably as if water has flooded his lungs. He brings his hands around his neck, feeling like he cannot talk nor scream for help – he can’t breathe.

“Louis, jump!”

And he can’t see, feel or hear anything, but trusts the voice. He jumps. Then it’s just cold and dark.

Or: the Middle Ages AU where Harry is a philosopher, whose thoughts happen five centuries too soon and Louis is a painter, whose art happens five centuries too late.

& Or: the Time Travel AU where alternate versions of themselves live simultaneously in different realities and their paths collide every time, until somehow, they converge into one.

—Fic Fests—

＊ 1D Pride Fest [ @1dpridefest | ao3 | masterpost ]

A fic and arts fest celebrating all colors of the rainbow, and every shade in between.

#28th appreciation #1dficvillage #trackinghappily #hljournal #hlcreators #hltracks #hlficlibrary #trackinghome #tracksintheam #1dsource #hlsource

[mathiwrites]

Wildflowers, a Tamlin x Rhysand prequel fic

Chapter 7

It takes one year.

After eleven years of endless bloodshed, it takes one year after Tamlin’s participation in the Human Liberation War for the Courts of Prythian to call its first ceasefire in hopes of discussions for peace. If not for the sake of its people, then for the sake of their land.

Adriata is beautiful. A palace built atop a mountain, overlooking clear blue seas that wink with diamonds under the generous sunshine. The breeze is crisp and cool, even on the hottest of days. What he would give to be out there, playing in the water and letting it ease the ache in his muscles. Too much time has been wasted fighting, and he’s only done a year of it.

“Focus,” his brother, Enfys, jabs Tamlin in the side, his voice a barely-there hiss.

“It’s a good thing your youngest is a little dull, Celyddon, or I would have worried about your seat.” 

Tamlin tunes back into the conversation just in time to hear Beron Vanserra cast insults in his direction. The Autumn Court is their only ally within Prythian, but that means nothing in terms of kindness or respect. It only means that their goals are aligned. For the moment. 

“I would worry about your spawn, Beron. I have made three warriors of mine. Perhaps you should put your cock away and focus on strategy.” Celyddon grins, amused by his own humour. With seven sons, the only thing Beron seems to  be good at is conquering his wife.

All seven of the High Lords are in attendance, scattered around the room or seated at the circular dining table. Nostrus, High Lord of the Summer Court, had been kind enough to welcome them into his home. His territory along with Memrun’s Dawn Court are the only neutral locations left. Every other Court has pledged their forces to help the humans gain freedom. 

“Now, now, it may come as a surprise to you both, honourable lords, but we did not gather here to hear you bicker like old hags.” Nostrus clasps his hands together with a pleasant smile, beckoning the attention back to him. Naturally, with far too many powerful High Fae in one place, the conversation tends to diverge. Repeatedly. It’s the third time he’s had to reign them back in, and hopefully,  his charm will work in his favour to get somewhere more productive with this.

“Laugh all you want, Sieffre. I’ll make sure to string your half-breed son up along with his flying mutts.” Beron snarls at the High Lord of the Night Court, who only grins wider. The threat rolls off his shoulders, and he doesn’t bother to offer a counter-promise. At least, not with words. His violet eyes glow with tempered anger.

“Is that the limit of your creativity, Beron? You threaten us with a good time?” Sieffre could not sound more unimpressed.

Tamlin’s head throbs. The peace talks dwindle into background noise as he hones in on the song of the seabirds. As soon as the bickering picks up again, his headache intensifies. He has no choice but to excuse himself in the middle of High Lord Memrun’s appeal for Prythian to stand as one instead of tearing itself apart. The war has yet to resort to true violence, the kind that puts their territories and Courts in direct danger, but it is still young. There is time. Tamlin keeps his eyes downcast for the most part, a sign of submission he has ingrained in himself to make sure that no one ever misconstrues his presence or his powers as a challenge. At the threshold of the room, he catches the cold gaze of Nikitas, who simply offers him a single nod of respect—of disguised encouragement. It surprises Tamlin, who returns the gesture before finally escaping.

Once out, Tamlin can finally breathe .

He wants no part of this. No part of war or peace. None of it. He just wants to be left alone. Rhodri never taught him the patience needed for politics, only how to bide his time for the kill. He lacks the skill to be here, but if he understands correctly, his father only needs him here as a show of power. (But not too much. Never too much .)

Tamlin lets his impulsive thoughts lead him down the mountain, skipping down white stone steps into the town below. A handful of guards stop him, but he takes no offence at the necessary precautions. “I want to see the water,” is all he says. So, he will go see the water.

He looks nothing like the beastly son of the Spring Court, not in his fine dressing coats and even less once he sheds his clothes. He’s comfortable like this, tan skin drinking in the warmth of the sun and fearing no shame. He’s waged war with nothing but his ability to shapeshift; what embarrassment does he have now to go swimming completely bare? Tamlin dives into the water with grace and strength, his body making the perfect arc to mitigate unnecessary splashing. He can feel the weight of his golden hair clinging to his wet skin, but even that feels more liberating than whatever guise he’s meant to wear in  the war room.

“They can see you, you know.” His attention settles on familiar violet eyes. Tamlin ignores him; for a moment, floating calmly on his back.

Rhysand crouches on the dock, his gaze sliding down Tamlin’s chest to settle on the scar there—the scar he gave him in a fit of childish rage. It’s his fault; he should have contained himself better, but lords of their stature do not apologize, no matter what they feel. He can’t help the way his curiosity leads his attention elsewhere, brows raising in surprise before he scrubs his face.

“I don’t care,” Tamlin says flatly, back paddling lazily. “They’ll see what they want to see.” A dull animal. Nothing more and nothing less. He sees no reason to stop himself from doing exactly what he wants. The High Lords have already decided who he is.

What happened to you, Rhysand wonders, but he already knows the answer. War happened. Being born in their vicious courts happened. He kicks off his shoes and rolls up the hem of his black pants. Sitting at the end of the dock, he dips his feet in the water, baring his teeth at the initial cold. “You’ve grown, Little Prince.”

“Like what you see?” Tamlin teases, a ghost of a smile dancing on his features. 

Ah, there you are . 

“I still see a boy who licks walls and, apparently, would rather go swimming naked instead of negotiating for Prythian’s salvation.”

“There are more than enough people in that room. They can figure it out.” His emerald eyes flutter shut. The beads of water on his belly begin to dry, so he makes sure to dive back under once more before returning to his star-fishing.

Rhysand huffs his laughter. It’s true. The High Lords are more than capable of making anything happen by virtue of their power, and the question is whether or not they want to. 

The two of them exist in silence for a long moment, allowing the tension of battle to fade away for just a moment. Here, they are just precious sons. Not warriors. Not enemies. At the end of it all, the Courts will return to their status quo as if nothing happened. Grudges will be held, but for no real reason. Not in Tamlin’s eyes, at least. Politics flatter the ego; they don’t protect people. In a hundred years or two, none of this will matter. He doesn’t see why he should hate Rhysand for a job he didn’t even want. He would understand it if Rhysand wanted his head for killing people.

(There are days where he wishes the Fae would take it and spare him the meaningless violence. For what purpose does he even breathe ? He wishes that he was never b—)

“You fight sloppy, by the way. Against a more tactical legion, if they have a chance to focus on you, it’d be easy to pin you down,” Rhysand offers, suddenly. It makes Tamlin laugh because despite it all, they’re both still bitching about how the other fights.

“Good thing they’re busy with creatures like the Attor to focus on me. You fight too prettily. Or you’re holding back. I can’t decide.” It’s true. Rhysand enters the battlefield with such flair. Maybe it’s the nature of his powers, but Tamlin won’t know the full extent of Rhysand’s powers until he becomes High Lord of the Night Court. Rhysand is a skilled fighter; his style is sharp compared to Tamlin’s broad strokes.

“You think I’m pretty?” Rhysand bats his eyes, mocking.

A low rumble escapes Tamlin’s chest, a growl of annoyance, and he splashes the other young lord with water. Repeatedly. (Tamlin has never thought about it, but now that it’s brought to his attention… The splashing is a good distraction from the gentle flush on his cheeks.)

“Hey! Hey! Enough!” 

Laughter feels like a miracle, and the sound of Rhysand’s as he tries to bat the water away makes Tamlin smile for the first time in a long time. 

“I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Tamlin says as he swims a bit closer. “Your wings are beautiful.” He must have found a way to summon them. 

Rhysand’s mouth parts in surprise, and his expression is sincere. “You noticed,” is all he can manage despite the nagging feeling in his chest. Flattery? Appreciation? Their last real conversation feels like a distant memory, but Tamlin remembered. As much as he can, Rhysand hides his wings. They’re a necessity in battle, but they’re also an important part of him. A private part of him that he does not share with anyone outside his people, not even his father. “Can you make wings?”

“Don’t know. I’ve never tried.”

“Why not?”

Tamlin shrugs and goes back to paddling around. When he started shapeshifting, he felt like a thief. He would wander into the woods and ask the animals he found there if it would be alright with them to use their powers—the very things that made them strong. Would they forgive him if he used it to cause pain to others? After all, it is not in nature’s way to kill for sport or morals; it is only a necessity. He would whisper to them his bargain that after all this, he would stay true to Spring and offer rebirth. How, he hasn’t quite figured out, but he’ll find a way, either by giving back or opening his mind to possibilities. 

As for the wings, Tamlin always felt like that was someone else’s dream. Not something for him to take.

“Any plans for dinner tomorrow?”

Tamlin purses his lips thoughtfully, then shrugs. Nothing he can’t get out of as the spare in his family.

“Perfect, meet me in the east quarter. You owe me a drink.”

“For what ?” Tamlin squints. 

“Splashing, stabbing, lots of clawing. Oh, and you bit me.”

Tamlin rolls his eyes. “I recall you stabbing me in the heart.”

“Not much worse than going for my carotid. Plus, it was just the tip. If it makes you feel better, I won’t judge you if you forgo the pants.” Rhysand teases, trying to rile Tamlin up and find that playfulness he once knew. 

Tamlin grunts, unimpressed, but ultimately accepts the offer.

***

What are you doing, Rhysand? What in the name of the Cauldron are you doing?

The other High Lords may be able to share a drink with their enemies, but Rhysand’s cool and calm demeanour in the face of Tamlin was manufactured, at least in part. It felt like that old memory again, just him and a boy he’d felt pity for. The rest of it is his instinct to protect himself and his own. He’s the enemy and he was vulnerable. His father would have told him to slit his throat on sight, let the sea dilute the blood and swallow his bones. His father would also tell him to use tonight as a lure, then slit his throat. It would deal a considerable blow to loyalist forces. Tamlin was a thorn in all their sides. Even Azriel’s intelligence is unable to predict where they’d place him on the battlefield, much less offer a tactic other than primal rampage.

He holds up two different tops. One is a simple long-sleeved button-up shirt made of silk. It’s black, like most of Rhysand’s outfits. He thinks to pair it with a navy coat with black lapels and a fine embroidery of black whorls, mimicking smoke. With just enough magic, he can give the illusion that the smoke is alive within the fabric. The other outfit is a black suit with gold detailing.

“I’m busy!” Rhysand shouts at the intruder at his door. They seem to pay him no mind as they barge in rudely.

“Aren’t we all,” his cousin drawls, a low purr in the face of his annoyance. The Morrigan is a figure of legend in this war, a female warrior blessed by demons. (Not actual demons; she’s just flanked by Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel alternately, depending on her mission of the day.) Outside of her battle leathers, she finds comfort in crimson and red gowns—a different kind of armour. Her pale brows raise in surprise. “You’re putting an awful lot of effort into a dinner with the High Lords .”

“I’m not going to dinner with your highnesses ,” he clips. He holds the gold outfit up to his neck again. He should have brought more choices; he doesn’t think Tamlin would notice what outfit he’s wearing anyway, but he takes care to dress well. It matters to Rhys .

“Rhys,” Morrigan sighs. “Rhys, tell me you’re not going to dinner with Celyddon’s youngest.” The day before, she had spotted them on the dock but assumed Rhysand was up to his usual taunts. She didn’t stay long enough because she gave him the benefit of the doubt. 

“And what if I am?”

Her sigh evolves into a groan. Two manicured fingers pinch the bridge of her nose, trying to cleanse her mind of the headache that is her idiot cousin. “You’ve been spending too much time with Cassian. I swear, you are growing more stupid by the second. Why can’t you be like Azriel? He minds his own business.”

“I assure you, Mor, that is the exact opposite of what Azriel does.”

“When he isn’t ordered to,” she rolls her eyes. Leave it to Rhysand to find a loophole. Were it anyone else, she would have assumed that this was part of some greater strategy, but Rhysand’s father has made a point to exclude his son from all planning. He’s also made sure to leave Rhysand on the outskirts of the fighting with one small squadron to command as he pleases. Anything to keep Rhysand out of sight, out of mind and feeling helpless in the war effort. “Fine. I’m going to regret asking this, but why? ”

Why indeed , Rhysand muses to himself. He works through his different opinions, casting aside the obvious answer. Manipulation is his father’s game. Rhysand hasn’t decided who he wants to be yet. With a deep breath, he figures if he’s going to be honest with anyone, it might as well be with Morrigan.

“I want to know him.”

“You do know him. He’s a wild animal that’s been killing troops of humans who just want to be free. You know how the other side is; they would rather kill them than let them go free. It makes no sense!”

“He’s not an animal,” Rhys says seriously, his gaze piercing into the mirror’s reflection. It’s enough to stop Morrigan mid-rant. She tenses her jaw.

“Is it because of the incident at Hybern ten years ago? You’re still fixated on that?”

Rhys says nothing. His fingers grip the coats in his hand, rumpling the fabric.

“He’s not you, Rhys. He’s his own person, and he is no longer a child. He can take care of himself; we’ve seen that. He doesn’t need you.”

And she’s right. Rhysand knows in his heart of hearts that Tamlin is not reliving his own isolated childhood with a cold father. He knows that Tamlin is more than capable of holding his own in a fight. Fuck, Rhysand would bet good money that Tamlin could take his father’s seat in a few years, if his powers keep growing this way.

“I know,” he says softly, turning to face her. “No one needs me, but he might like someone to talk to. Someone who understands.”

Morrigan opens her mouth to say something, and the look she gives Rhysand is one of pity. He’s not talking about Tamlin. He’s the one who needs this. She sighs, the third time in a handful of minutes. She gets up and rifles through the closet with the clothes he’s brought for himself. One of his suits is black on black, a silky black thread weaved in a paisley pattern (truly, one of the more beautiful gifts from humans). She enchants the embroidery into a forest green, dark enough so Rhysand’s aesthetic remains, but there’s enough of the pattern for the colour to be obvious.

“I’m not sure if he’ll notice, but this is the colour of his mother’s dress on that night.” Morrigan fondly recalls the memory, finding it sweet how he pawed at it while she enjoyed Margret's company.

“You’re making this feel like a date.”

“Isn’t it?” Morrigan grins.

“It is not .” On this, Rhysand remains firm. At the end of these talks, they will become enemies again, standing on opposite sides of the war. They’d need a miracle to change that. Or a change in leadership, but those thoughts should never be spoken aloud.

***

The tavern is in the merchant’s quarter of Adriata. The establishments are a mix of modest elegance inspired by beautiful handmade crafts and the familiarity of the working class. Sons of High Lords are welcomed with reverence, but when the sun sets, it’s easy for them to blend in among the people, so long as the drinks are flowing and the bards sing their epic tales. It’s still too soon to hear of war exploits, and perhaps it’s for the better, considering that there are agents of many sides in the city for the next unknown number of days.

Tamlin feels out of place in the cramped tavern where everyone sits close enough for their shoulders to brush. Everything is loud, and there are so many people , both human and fae alike. The only piece of comfort is the wood used both in structure and furnishing. Even cut, Tamlin can still hear the faint whispers of all the stories they have to tell—the lives they lived before coming here and the things they have seen afterwards. He presses his palm against one of the supporting pillars, a gesture akin to greeting an old friend. 

“Tamlin?” 

His name makes him jump as if caught somewhere he shouldn’t be. The young lord turns slowly, only to be met with another High Fae. Lucien Vanserra is the youngest son of the Autumn Court. (The one who had caught stray insults despite having done nothing to deserve it.) Red-haired and always smiling, Tamlin rather liked Lucien. He is amiable to everyone around him, treating the people he speaks to like they’re the only ones in the room, all while making connections and building bridges for others to connect.

Tamlin smiles genuinely. “Lucien. Hello.” They haven’t seen each other since they were children, except for a handful of negligible occasions where the Autumn Court deigned the Spring Court worthy of their attention. Lucien was always, always kind. 

“I’m surprised to see you here, but I’m glad. Truly.” The words are warm, and Lucien goes as far as taking Tamlin’s hand and shaking it, one palm over and under. He hadn’t liked it at first, but understands the meaning in it now. He offers a squeeze in return.

“Is this… a popular place?” Tamlin glances around. He’s not even sure how he’ll get a table, much less hold a conversation with anyone over the noise.

“Of course, isn’t that why you’re here?”

“No, ah, I was…” Tamlin pauses, humming as a time filler until he can come up with a reasonable excuse. Rhysand might not want anyone to know that they’re meeting; maybe that’s why he picked a place where they can get lost in the crowd. Even if he did not mind, Lucien is Beron’s son. Who knows what Beron would do with this information?

“He was meeting me.” Rhysand’s cool tone joins the conversation. He slips his arm across Tamlin’s shoulders in an attempt to lean on him casually. It doesn’t work as well as he hoped; Tamlin’s just that much taller for the gesture to be awkward. It’s only made worse by the way Tamlin shimmies out from under him to put distance between them.

“Rhys! It’s been a while!” Lucien’s smile grows wider, and the two Fae go as far as hugging one another with two pats on the back. 

“Too long, might I say. I see you’ve already scouted out the best places to be on an evening like this.”

Tamlin watches the interaction curiously as they catch up. He even goes as far as looking at his hands, wondering if he could ever feel comfortable enough to hug an acquaintance as a pleasantry. He figures he could omit the two pats on the back for fear of smacking anyone too hard. He gets so caught up in his quiet little thoughts that he loses track of the conversation, and Lucien has to ask him a question twice.

“Hm?”

“I said, are you coming to Tarquin’s later? You know how he likes to party. There will be wine and dice, at the very least.” Lucien leaves his statement open for more. Tarquin’s parties are known throughout the realm to be otherworldly ; that’s how fun they are. He’s unsure how much to share, lest he scare Tamlin off. 

“We might go. Depends who’s coming,” Rhysand interjects when Tamlin never answers the question.

“Most of the guests will be of the Summer Court. Eris will probably go and Tamlin’s brothers, too. I know I saw Kallias earlier, but Nikitas is very strict on partying during wartime.” 

The mention of Eris and his brothers has Tamlin making a face. One of the shortcomings of his training is that he never learned to guard his emotions. Not in Court affairs, at least. 

“We’ll think about it,” Rhysand laughs, catching the expression and gently patting Tamlin on the shoulder in reassurance. “It was nice seeing you, Luce. Have a drink on me while you’re here.” 

And with that, he ushers Tamlin away to the first two free seats at a table that already seems like there are far too many people on it. At the very least, they are on the very edge of the wooden table. It’s a lot less cramped that way, for someone of Tamlin’s stature, at least. Rhysand manages just fine. Or he makes it look that way.

“We’re getting mead. One glass, you’ll be fine. The lamb here is to die for. It’s slow-roasted for hours, and you can taste every spice for… What’s wrong?”

“I…,” Tamlin starts but stops to glance around. No one’s listening to them. Even the people closest to them are immersed in their own personal nonsense. Here, they aren’t traitors to their Court or enemies. They are just two Fae, enjoying time spent together. He lowers his voice anyway, and his gaze drops with learned shame. “I don’t eat meat.”

Rhysand laughs until he realizes that Tamlin’s serious. “Wait, seriously? How does that make any sense?”

Anger snaps into place and darkens Tamlin’s golden features. “Yes, seriously. Why is that so unbelievable?” He’s suddenly that boy again, the one who would never allow anyone to laugh at the son of the High Lord of the Spring Court, except this anger is darker. Tinted with pain and… something else.

“Well,” Rhysand tries more gently now. “I just didn’t expect that since I’ve seen you take a bite out of people. Multiple times.”

“I don’t swallow.”

“So, you spit?”

The two men beside them stop to stare. Tamlin growls loud enough for them to get up and take their business elsewhere. Good, more space for them. “Yes, what’s so wrong with that?”

As much as Rhysand wants to be gentle, he can’t help but laugh again. He reaches out and touches the fist that Tamlin has balled on the table, coaxing him to relax . “There’s nothing wrong with that, I’m just surprised. Also, they looked at you because I was making an innuendo, which you confirmed. And!” He says, louder, in hopes of outracing Tamlin’s thoughts. “And it was not to make fun of you , the joke was obvious. I had to make it. Nothing to do with whether you do spit or swallow. That is dealer’s choice.”

Tamlin pulls his hand away. Otherwise, he seems mollified by the explanation. A small part of him is annoyed at himself for revealing himself to be as dull as the High Lords say, but it says a lot more about Rhysand who cares enough to speak to him patiently. Any other Lord would willingly coax his anger for the sake of meaningless, momentary victory.

When the barmaid asks for their order, Rhysand orders strictly vegetables (with the classic spices, of course).

“You don’t have to do that, Rhysand.”

“Do what? I’m not doing it for you . I’m just curious whether or not I could survive a meal without meat. You would allow me this experiment, won’t you?” He bats his violet eyes, trying to sound as sincere as possible. “Tell me, though. What difference does it make? The lamb is already slaughtered, whether you eat it or not.” Rhysand knows there’s more to his personal choice, but he questions his methods.

“Perhaps it won’t make a difference here, but in a much smaller setting, the ingredients are rationed towards the number of guests. At home, that means one less plate of meat, if not more, to be prepared by the cook.” It could even mean the salvation of one whole animal, but that’s not the whole reason. Tamlin respects the circle of life and his own necessity to eat other living things. “I’ve already spilled enough blood uselessly. This is my way of restoring the balance,” he shrugs. Rhysand probably thinks it’s silly, the same way his entire family, except his Iolin, had. 

Rhysand takes what Tamlin’s saying to heart and raises his glass in the name of his new-old friend. “To restoring the natural balance.”

Tamlin stares. Processes. For once, he’s not being mocked. For the first time, outside of the context of killing, he’s being… celebrated?

“Oh, don’t give me that look and raise your damn glass.” Who would have thought? Tamlin, the ‘beast’ of the Spring Court, is thoughtful. Their glasses clink, a truce in disguise. “So… what do you do in the field? Most of the rations are meat, or the vegetables are stewed in broth.”

“I forage.”

“You forage ? In the middle of war ?” Rhysand’s brows shoot up. Were he anyone else, this information could be critical. Tamlin foraging alone sometime before or, even worse, after a battle, could make him easy prey for an assassin. Or a shadowsinger. 

“I like the time alone.” 

“You are something else, Lordling.”

Tamlin frowns, yet again, but he doesn’t seem as bothered this time. The food arrives, and even though it’s not what Rhysand came to sell him on, Tamlin’s happy. Each plate is treated with care, cooked individually rather than tossed together in a single marinate. He notes the char on some of them, just the right amount without burning but pulling out all the right flavours. If it wasn’t for his change in diet, he might not have noticed these little nuances, but it is a surprise how hard it is to feel satiated in a single meal with a variety of choices. (It’s been a year since he’s been home. Choice is a luxury someone of his stature does not deserve.)

“I’m glad to see you’re enjoying it.” Rhysand grins, half of an aubergine disc on his fork.

“How do you know I like it?”

“Because your eyes get wide like saucers, and you do a little happy bob with your head.” Rhysand does his best to mimic it.

“I do not.”

“Sure, you don’t.”

Dinner is easy. They don’t tread on heavy topics, just casually hopping from one mundane thing to another. Both of them carry enough weight on their shoulders. The ceasefire might very well be a vacation for them. Rhysand manages to ease Tamlin into their friendship, enough that they’re fighting over the last stuffed cucumber in a battle of forks. He lets Tamlin win. Or so he says.

“So, what now?” Tamlin asks. 

Rhysand had expected him to retire after dinner, muttering some lame excuse about duty, but he sees his opportunity and takes it, grinning all the while. “Well, I'll settle the tab, and we’ll see what we feel like doing. Did you want to join Lucien at Tarquin’s?”

“I thought I owed you?”

“Consider it my thanks for the good company and your honesty.”

“Oh,” is all Tamlin can say. He hopes the dim lighting of the tavern hides the way his cheeks colour. He can’t help the way his heart latches onto the compliment. It’s one thing to be lauded for his physical prowess, another to be appreciated for his personality. He knows Rhysand must be flattering him because he really, really doesn’t bring much to the conversation.

He follows the other Fae to the bar, vaguely listening to Rhysand pay for Lucien’s drinks, too. Tamlin often gets lost in his thoughts and his surroundings, curious about everything and finds magic in the world around him. He’s attentive to what others might find mundane, noticing what often goes forgotten. His attention lingers on the pattern of Rhysand’s suit, fingers reaching out tentatively to trace them. 

“Ready—” Rhysand turns to Tamlin, unable to finish the thought as they are shoved all too close to one another. People squeeze past them, coming in and out, and Rhysand finds himself pressed against Tamlin’s chest. He looks up, watching the High Fae curiously.

“Sorry,” Tamlin mumbles under his breath. Despite the proximity, he puts his hands on either side of Rhysand and onto the bar, making sure that Rhysand’s minimal personal space is protected. It’s a small gesture—meaningless because he can shove all the other patrons out of the way in one swipe—but he shields Rhysand anyway. “What?” He asks, noticing the way Rhysand is staring at him.

“Nothing,” Rhysand grins. “I think we’re good to go.” He nods in the direction of the group that’s just left, the last of them already out of the door.

Tamlin clears his throat and steps back, allowing Rhysand to lead the way. “Would you be interested in a walk? Down to the docks?”

“Are you trying to bait me into a nightly swim, Little Prince?”

“You don’t have to swim if you don’t want to.” Tamlin grins. He properly grins at Rhysand, and it may be one of the rarest beauties Rhysand has ever seen. (Does he covet it because it’s rare? Or because even the night skies yearn to see the sun?)

“Oh, I want to. Race you?”

Oh, Tamlin is like a child again. He lights up in a way that he hasn’t in over a decade as he nods and charges ahead without waiting for a countdown. He dashes through the crowd, smiling to himself and offering no apologies for those who have to jump out of his way. Even before he gets to the dock, he’s discarding his clothes and this time, he makes a splash as big as the ball of joy rooted inside his chest. 

Rhysand comes to a slow at the dock, looking down at his friend with a smile and shaking his head. “I let you win,” he proclaims. It’s the cucumber all over again. He hesitates, worried about his clothes, but decides fuck it . He hasn’t felt this free in a long time. Layer by layer, he discards each item in a pile on the dock before standing there, proud and naked as the day he was born. Dark tattoos whorl around his arms and back, meeting at the chest. No one else has seen them, but Tamlin has shared some vulnerabilities. Rhysand can share this much in return.

“Coming in?” Tamlin asks as if he wasn’t just tracing the tattoos with his eyes. And there’s the scar of his teeth on his shoulder, properly healed but silvery against his pale skin. Tamlin notices that, too. He’s far too polite to stare, or to satiate any other possible curiosity, only diving beneath the waves and disappearing.

“Little Prince? Tam? Tamlin?” Rhysand expects there to be some fancy trick or fish-flopping that Tamlin wants to show off. Minutes tick by and Tamlin never resurfaces. Rhysand has heard of the creatures living beneath the water, prone to waking by the moonlight and slumbering by day. The son of a High Lord wouldn’t drown so easily, would he? He lets his doubts get the better of him and dives into the water, only to find a horde of bubbles blowing him back to the surface.

More splashes and laughter. 

“Got you,” Tamlin snorts and back paddles away.

“No, you didn’t.” Rhysand challenges him, swimming after him and jumping onto his shoulders.

As far as anyone can see, there are no Lords here and no prodigal sons. Only two boys reclaiming the childhood they never had.

#i realized i never finished posting this fic #freakin cute chapter #my fics #acotar fanfiction #tamlin #pro tamlin #rhysand #tamsand #tamlin x rhysand #ao3feed #acotar #ao3 #a court of thorns and roses

[storyofmychoices]

Okay... with only one chapter in, I'm already having a lot of thoughts and feelings about Blades 2. I'm hesitant to add any of my Blades 2 posts to either my Mal x Daenarya (Blades 1 + Extended Universe) Masterlist or Mal's Orphanage Masterlist because it doesn't seem like things will work out timeline wise. So for now I'm dumping EVERYTHING Blades 2 related here. As we get more info from the book, I'll try to organize things better in relation to my other Masterlists [My Timelines + Universes explained]

In my original timeline, all fics that take place during Book 1 ("Beyond Riverbend" to "A Rose by Any Other Name") exist in this AU as well.

🖤 Shadows of Hope: She was there, and then she was gone. Mal would move heaven and earth to bring her back, but what happens when he can't? [Blades 2, Chapter 1] Mal's 5 stages of grief

🖤 Her Legacy: She may be gone, but she could never be forgotten. She lives on in the stories he tells and the hope he inspires. [Blades 2, Chapter 2] HC for why Mal is smiling

🖤 A Quest for Daenarya: After hearing her stories, Thalassa, Ovisa, and Lysander decide it is their quest to bring Daenarya back to Mal, they just never imagined it would be so easy. [Blades 2, Chapter 3] Reimagining Mal's reunion with Daenarya

🖤 The Promise of Today: Mal and Daenarya share a moment together the morning after her return. [This follows The Quest for Daenarya] [Blades 2, Chapter 3]

🖤 Torn: Daenarya is back and trying to process what happened. [Blades 2, Chapter 4/5ish]

🖤 Sculpting Desires: Daenarya considers a possible future as a sculptor with a very willing model. [Blades 2, Chapter 5] Also featuring Tyril x Maiele and Mal x Tyril

🖤 The Rogue's Embrace + Art 🎨 (Mal x Tyril): Mal loves talking. Tyril is tired of listening and has found a good way to shut him up, even if just for a moment. [Blades 2, Chapter 7ish]

🖤 The Princess of Parnassus and The Trophy Husband + Art 🎨: Daenarya and Mal enjoy a much needed relaxing afternoon while contemplating what comes next. [Blades 2, several months post book]

Book 2 Prequel: The Adventures of a Young Mal Volari

🖤 Mal the Magnificent: Young Mal Volari gets a bucket stuck on his head.

Book 2 Inspired Stories written before its release so I don't know how they fit into the timeline right now

🖤 Old Hair, New Look: Daenarya has a few thoughts about Mal’s new armor

🖤 The Cutest Goof: Daenarya has some thoughts on Mal’s new armor.

🖤 Go On, Feel It: Mal makes an offer Daenarya can't refuse.

Daenarya is pregnant and was in book one

Iliana Maria Volari: Mal and Daenarya's realm walker daughter

A year without her: Mal + the five stages of grief

Mal seeing Daenarya for the first time

Saving Rayden and Lydo in this AU /The Orphanage

"Mine" + love bites

Mal's hair: the lice conundrum

Daenarya's flirting (chapter 2)

Mal smiling (chapter 2)

Imtura, the pirate queen, deserves a mermaid queen

Mal would use the linked minds magic in Chapter 5 to make Tyril and Nia blush

Mal : new armor, old hair [Edit]

Party Together Edit with Mal's old hair [Edit]

Mal + Daenarya Orphanage CG Edit [Edit]

Daenarya enjoying Mal's new armor I [Art]

Daenarya enjoying Mal's new armor II [Art]

Mal x Daenarya x Nia art [Art]

Mal x Daenarya fae/goblin forest [Edit]

Mal x Daenarya neck kisses [Art]

Mal x Daenarya head kiss [Art]

Mal x Daenarya flower crowns [Art]

Mal x Tyril Kiss [Art]

Group CG from promo video

Blades 2 Recap of Book 1 video

Blades 2 Promo Video [Mobile Video]

Mentions of our orphanage in the dream state

It's been a year?!?!

Shadow Threep + Loola cuteness

Deadwood vs Whimseywood Maps

Chapter Two: Threep wanting Daenarya to bring him souvenirs aka snacks

Chapter Two: Mal's Cameo

Chapter Four: the best of Mal teasing Tyril

Chapter Four: Mal wanting Daeny

Chapter Five: Daenarya's "Insight" Inspiration Speech

Chapter Five: Mal + Tyril moment

Chapter Five: Handsome Sculpture

Chapter Five: Mal x Daeny play with magic wolves

Chapter Five: Kiss all the mermaids

Chapter Six: the gang reacts to Daenarya's new outfit

Chapter Six: Daenarya's reaction to the shadow court

Chapter Seven: "not living" moment rewrite

Chapter Seven: Mal x Daenarya moment alone

Chapter Eight: Mal reminisces about mazes as a kid + Lydo and Rayden adoption idea

Chapter Eight: Mal doesn't beg

Chapter Eight: Mal x Tyril (aka boyfriends)

Chapter One Reaction

The Missing Year for other LIs

How does Daenarya feel about using magic as a human

MC's new dress inspiration/fashion

Choices Irony

Realm Time Difference Question

Blades 2 Insider Blog

[Mal Volari x Daenarya:Masterlist : Book One + Beyond]  [Mal’s Orphanage (the original /precanon orphanage)]

#mal volari #mal volari x mc #mal volari x oc #malarya #daenarya #mal x daenarya #blades of light and shadow #bolas #choices #playchoices #choices game #choices book club #fan fiction #lovealexhunt #mal's orphanage #the orphanage #blades 2 #bolas 2 #blades of light and shadow 2 #dani cries over blades 2 #dani plays blades 2

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - June 4

Happy June!!! It’s my favorite month of the year. So here’s a bunch of fic to enjoy and start the best month--be sure to leave comment/kudos for your authors! 

~*~ 

the soul stands ajar by starvels (dinosaur) 

It's snowing on the mountainside, the 5th time they have the argument about whether either of them have a soul anymore.

rumors all around (say her body is fantastic) by starvels (dinosaur) 

“For the record,” Steve tries again. “It wasn’t about my underwear,” he pauses. “But mine are very nice as well.”

Cherry Ride by copperbadge

A SHIELD agent named Roger Stevens told Tony that his nickname was "Cap". Tony didn't connect the dots until it was much, much too late.

Second Chance Lives by raeldaza

Tony's gonna die of palladium poisoning anyway, why not join a pointless expedition to recover Captain America’s body? And after, well, why not dedicate his last few months to making sure an American hero settles into his new life? What else is he going to do, get drunk at parties?

In Tandem by RurouniHime

“Want a blood test,” Steve manages, because on the third night of their Week, he can think more clearly than he’s been able to for days. Tony’s scent is strong in his nostrils, cloying in a strange, sleek way he yearns after like a tune he nearly recognizes. “If you’re getting sick—”

“God.” Tony shifts bodily up into him, clenching around him. “Yes, Mom.”

Object: Matrimony by BladeoftheNebula

Omega Tony Stark craves adventure and an escape from the life his parents have planned for him in New York. He places a listing in a marriage catalogue to seek a match with an alpha out West, and Sheriff Steve Rogers answers his advertisement. But finding a nice alpha doesn't mean it's all smooth sailing from there...

- A Mail Order Bride AU -

Heart in Hand by janonny

Steve had been thinking — that was all he was doing, thinking, not moping, as Bucky described it — about the best way to make his feelings clear to Tony. He wanted it to be perfect. He needed it to be the best demonstration of sincere interest that Tony had ever received.

Bucky called it procrastinating, but Steve called it strategizing.

And this Courting Ceremony? It was perfect.

Now he just needed to figure out what to get Tony as a Courting gift. And what to wear. And what to say. And what to do.

 -

Or the story where Tony, an Omega, holds a much belated Courting Ceremony. Steve joins up and loses his mind a little.

Sense of Memory and Desire by iam93percentstardust 

On the verge of his heat, Tony gets asked to star in a perfume ad. He agrees - but only if his alpha gets to be his costar.

Sweet domesticity by masterlokisev159

Steve and Tony have always had their moments, it's just part of being together. They drive each other crazy but at the end of the day they’ll always have each other's backs, in and out of battle. In sickness and in health. 

That last one isn’t complicated for Steve. Today isn’t an exception.

One Nation Indivisible by theladyscribe

They ask Steve to lead the Pledge at the memorial service for the Battle of Manhattan, and of course he agrees.

Pro Patria by Sarah K (tears_of_nienna)

Tony visits Arlington and finds that he's not the only Avenger there.

Concerto Memorial by TariCalmcacil

Steve just wanted to spend Memorial Day thinking about his friends. He didn't realize that Tony had the same idea when he dragged him to DC for the National Memorial Day Concert.

Or: how Steve stopped seeing Tony as an annoying acquaintance whom wasn't quite as awful as he originally thought and started seeing him as a friend.

Stuff We Did by Captain_Panda 

When the end comes, there is no last act of defiance from the great Tony Stark.

The "Up" AU prequel to Married Life.

To Stay or Go? by iam93percentstardust 

The lawns of Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters are kept immaculate, the hedges sculpted into interesting shapes of fantastical animals and mythological figures. Sarah, however, is more interested in the mansion at the end of the long drive. Sprawling and large enough to fit over a dozen of her small apartment, the school cuts an imposing figure against the skyline. Sarah shivers, reminding herself, as she looks back at the boy drawing in a notebook in the passenger seat, that this is necessary.

My Better Half, My Saving Grace by ChocolateCapCookie 

The five different ways Steve Rogers loves Tony Stark

A Forever Thing by midnightsnacks

Tony jumped up, ready to throw his drink right into the strangers face when a strong hand grabbed his wrist and held him in place. He looked up into unforgettably bright eyes. So, not a stranger then.

Are we satellites? by starvels (dinosaur) 

In between sunrises on the road, Steve is speaking, eating, stepping into diners to save people like coming back to his childhood home.

And Tony, Tony is watching him. Tony is relearning being awake.

-

A cross country roadtrip where Steve and Tony find the typical American town, a fuckton of trees and finally, finally, find the right questions to ask each other.

#stevetony weekly #stevetony #stony #stony weekly #stony fic #stevetony fic #fic rec #rec list #stevetony rec #stony recs #captain america #iron man #steve rogers #tony stark

[nolita-fairytale]

make my heart surrender | carmy x reader | the playlist

here's a fun little collection of songs that make me think of this story. some of the songs feel like they could function as a soundtrack to the story, and some just make me think of carmy x reader. i created this playlist and listened to it while writing, in the car, doing dishes... seriously, the way this story took over my brain.

make my heart surrender: the playlist

***

sleeping with a friend - neon trees

carmy & reader's relationship in new york city -- while the title feels self-explanatory, this song has all the sexual tension of wondering our favorite kitchen lovebirds' will they won't they relationship. do we need a oneshot of the before times? maybe...

robbers - the 1975

angsty carmy & reader's relationship in nyc. this is also allegedly the prequel to 'about you' so it felt right to include it.

about you - the 1975

where the title of this fic comes from: 'now there's something about you that i can't remember / it's the same damn thing that made my heart surrender / and i miss you on the train, i miss you in the morning / i never what to think about / i think about you

it's the pining for me

chicago - sufjan stevens

the iconic song used in the show. i could see this song playing on reader's first day at the bear, or underscoring reader's travels to chicago

sleep tight - holly humberstone

oof, this song kills me. i'll add notable lyrics that make me think of carmy x reader, but it would be a beautiful underscore for their moment at the end of chapter two, when they say goodnight to each other.

"sleep tight i'm on my way back and feeling kind of sad because you were the best thing i never knew i had"

"you were the best thing i never knew was mine"

"god knows i've missed this feeling" makes me ache in the best ways why do we love being sad sm?!

closer - tegan and sara

i could see this song underscoring some of the kitchen flows when carmy & reader have smoothed things over around chapter three. i can just see reader working the garnish station and falling in love with carmy all over again as she watches him expedite.

can we also just talk about how this is a peak in the flow of the playlist? like they've finally smoothed things over and it's been nostalgic/acoustic/angsty and then this song happens and it's like an explosion of energy?? we're finally going to get some connection between these two

only human - the code, william singe

if this were a movie/tv show, i'd have this song play in the background of their conversation (date) at the aviary in chapter three.

untouched hearts - acoustic - the hunna

the lines "i know it's been hard but now it's time for you to get what you want, to know you're enough" feel like a fucking love letter from mikey to carmy. #LetItRip

it also feels like a feeling reader and carmy would share between the two of them about each other.

la vie en rose - emily watts

the song that plays at carmy's apartment after putting her dinner party playlist on shuffle. reader is flipping through the cookbook while he finishes the carbonara to the sweet sounds of this song. and they're making eyes at each other, and stealing glances when they think the other isn't looking GOODBYE

the girl - city & colour

this song is giving major waking-up-together-morning-after vibes. i mostly saw this song for the second to last chapter for the cute tattoo scene, but it could also be great for their first morning after season in chapter five.

flashed junk mind (acoustic version) - milky chance

just picture carmy & reader traipsing through chi-town's chinatown, arguing over who's gonna pay (because they both think it should be themselves), being cute, and fighting over carmy's cigarette during their walking dumpling date.

strawberries & cigarettes - troye sivan

this song accompanies their sweet goodbye at the start of chapter 7 and i'm quite convinced that troye sivan wrote it about carmen berzatto and you can't change my mind lol.

for the lines: "blue eyes, black jeans, lighters and candy, i've been a fool / strawberries & cigarettes always taste like you" and "remember when you taught me fate / said it'd all be worth the wait."

somebody - dagny

less on brand for the show, but the lyrics make me think so much about these two. it's giving: plot twist this is now a freeform show, i know. however, i envisioned this song being a part of reader packing up her things and catching up w friends back in ny. maaaaybe even as she's getting in her u-haul to drive to chicago.

solsbury hill - peter gabriel

peter gabriel said that this song was about losing something so that you can gain something else and i'm just not okay. this is the song that underscores the final scene in our lovely little epilogue, when reader surprises carmy at the bear ready to tell him that she's finally all in.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #the bear marcus #sydney adamu #the bear tina #richie jerimovich #playlist #spotify #make my heart surrender #make my heart surrender soundtrack #make my heart surrender playlist

[monstersinthecosmos]

I can't tell you how much I love the vamptember series. Finally finally it is the start of the chase years!! I loved it. I loved the pain and the fear and yet Daniel's defiance to escape this life and into the next. I think no one else could have survived Armand that night were it not for Daniel. It was Daniel and how he functions and moves through life that intrigued Armand enough to let him run ( he even says so doesn't he when he tells Daniel to run...it is between the lines). Also where is Daniel's jacket?

🥹😭😍

Thank you so much, I'm so glad you're enjoying!!!!!

I always ask like which came first with Daniel and what's frustrating as fuck (but really fun for fanworks) is that we know NOTHING about him. He's free real estate! But like I ask myself what type of person is this, who would respond this way?

Was he close with his family? Did they look for him? Was any love lost here?

Was he already prone to obsession? Is becoming obsessed with vampires just A THING THAT CAN HAPPEN TO ANYONE or did it affect him specifically this way because he was neurodivergent already?

On that same note, knowing what we know about him as a vampire: Were these patterns there already? Vampires are sort of neurodivergent anyway, but did it just exacerbate something that was there?

Like even when Marius says he was like this as a human, too, WAS HE REALLY? DOES THAT MEAN PRE- OR POST- ARMAND?

I don't see any real indication that he had an alcohol problem BEFORE he was traumatically stalked all over the world but again, free real estate! Nothing to suggest that he didn't, either.

And again, how much of addiction is innate and genetic? If he weren't genetically prone or predisposed to developing a drinking habit (and later a Blood habit), would he have dealt with this situation differently?

So like there's no right answer to these questions but it's stuff I've asked myself a LOT over the course of my fuckin, like, VC Fic Writing Career 😂

I have tried to have all these decisions made when I write, even if it's stuff that doesn't come up in a particular story, just so that *I* know the answer and so that I can try to characterize everyone as consistently as possible. Especially bc like it's been a challenge of mine to keep all my VC fics plausibly in the same universe. So for example, the Vamptember 1973s are absolutely the prequel to The Usher; this is Usher!Daniel and this informs how he will behave in the Usher fics. I had decided he was a lil estranged from his parents, had fucked up a little bit in college and it was causing tension with his dad, his big first loss was his best friend in Vietnam. These are things I hinted at in the Usher fics. And I'm having a lot of fun writing it all down now!!!!!!!!!!!

WHO WAS DANIEL MOLLOY????????

And you're right, where IS his jacket?? 🫢🥸👀😏

This is his jacket btw, I've had these pics open in a tab all month for reference LOL

#vamptember 1973 #stuff i wrote #the usherverse!

[astromechs]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @thecasualauthor18 ; thank you!

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

it looks like i've got 77 right now

2.  What's your total AO3 word count?

180,976

3. What fandoms do you write for?

most of it is marvel and star wars, have a modest collection for the peacemaker tv series, and then side trips into other things!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

this might be all i ever wanted (all i ever wanted to happen to me) — 226 kudos

whatever happens (happens to the both of us) — 172 kudos

we've come a long, long way together — 171 kudos

why don't you close your eyes and reinvent me — 170 kudos

feeling's running straight to my bones — 132 kudos

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

i really need to get better about this, because i have been slacking bad lol; i love each and every one and appreciate them so, so much, but i get flustered and then i forget to reply and i'm a hot mess ghfdjks

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

i think i tend to favor open/ambiguous endings, more than outright angsty ones? probably almost paradise, though; the one time i acknowledged mcu gamora died and she was still dead at the end of this, so that was depressing by my standards. also my two canon compliant rogue one fics because i mean... gestures to what canon compliant means.

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

obviously that time rick astley saved the world in that fic of mine from 2009.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

shoutout to that one weirdo who left me anon hate over... checks notes... carol danvers and jessica drew kissing. i even had to report that to ao3 because it was legit harassment, and for what.

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

i did a calculation recently and like 2/3 of the fics i've published in the past two years have been smut. oops.

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

i do love inventing ships out of nothing and making you all see my vision — so while a lot of what i've published on that front has been confined to comic characters who've never interacted before, i do have more in my head.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i'm aware of......

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes! anything that's worth my love (is worth the fight) was translated into chinese, and that's still, like, the neatest thing that's ever happened to me.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

i've played around with sharing universes with friends and swapping ideas! and a couple of co-written series we dabbled in.

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

honestly? yeah, it's rebelcaptain. straight up. what you've all witnessed this year is the culmination of 1) my pandemic character arc of having zero shame of what i fling to my ao3 account anymore, and 2) that particular pandora's box getting reopened thanks to andor getting released at the end of last year because being insane about them has lived in me like a sleeper agent since 2016.

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

ugh unfortunately the marvel cosmic star wars au will probably never get done

16. What are your writing strengths?

getting into character's heads and having the reader experience their emotions, maybe? idk maybe tension between characters, sexual or otherwise? maybe smut? maybe humor?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

i hate titles so much. hate hate HATE. song lyrics are my life hack for that.

also what is a plot

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

if i don't know the language, i'm not confident i'm going to get it right, so i usually just take the comics approach of < words go here > if this ever comes up.

19. First Fandom you wrote for?

i wrote some unhinged star wars prequels (specifically anidala) fics in high school, and i also started writing unhinged matrix fics around that time. no, none of you will see any of those.

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

keep whatever it is (that's compelling you on) — because it's the culmination of a story that had lived in my head for years but i didn't think i was skilled enough to carry out, so i was proud i finally wrote it

Going On An Adventure 🧜‍♂️ by peaceluvr69 — is my comedic magnum opus tbh and i made myself laugh stupid the entire time i was writing it, so that has to count for something

here's hoping we collide — i really do genuinely love how this story turned out 🥹 to the point that i actually keep thinking about making a branch universe off of this to give that jyn and that cassian from five years prior to rogue one more chances to know each other and also be... prickly little assholes in a funny way, because they're funny. i imagine the hell they'd raise together and it warms my heart.

tagging (no pressure!): @quarantineddreamer ; @frostbitepandaaaaa ; @sgtjamesrogers ; @ezracomehome ; @luciechat ; @rebelrainfall

#tag game #* fic #i'll throw that in my tag. wow it took me a while to answer these questions ghfdjks

[bemusedlybespectacled]

hi :) what are your favourite ofmd fanfics? i need recs

OH BOOOOY HOW MUCH TIME DO YOU HAVE

Okay, I am being careful here and only recommending completed fics – I do have some that are ongoing but I hesitate to rec anything that isn't finished. I'm also not giving all my bookmarked fics, just some of them, otherwise we'd be here all day. For all of these, I am going to stress that you should mind the tags for these fics because my tastes tend to run violent.

STEDDYHANDS - Stede/Ed/Izzy

A Pirate Triptych by ewelinakl: Hands down my favorite fic in this fandom, of all time, a fucking SAGA that's intricately plotted and emotional and SO WELL WRITTEN, FUCK.

Luck of the Devil by @itsclydebitches: A fic that was written in response to a prompt of mine on the kink meme (which was "we need more near-drowning whump this is a disgrace") and absolutely knocked it out of the fucking park. Actually, while we're at it, let's just say "anything of Clyde's is a fucking banger" and leave it at that.

Above All Else by kaelleid - Another fic for a prompt of mine (which was "have Izzy sacrifice himself, maybe an 'I'm Spartacus' thing?"), this one also fucking excellent.

x marks the spot by @second-hand-heaven: The fic that got me invested in this ship in the first place (it's Nova's fault that I am this unhinged) plus another fic that's more a prequel.

couldn't good be good enough? by RarePairFairy: This is the one fic I absolutely refuse to spoil because it took my breath away the first time and is still fucking sweet.

revolting displays of intimacy by givemebaretrees: This is another author where just everything they write is a fucking delight, but this one in particular is my favorite.

a little backup (in case the scene gets nasty) by oopshidaisy: They have a bunch of other fantastic work, but I like this one because it's self-contained and somehow both really romantic and tragic and fucking hilarious.

gimme gimme gimme (a man after midnight) by vvorm: Unhinged Stede meets fucked up masochistic Izzy and it's AMAZING.

wine-dark seas by Juniperly: Come for the Steddyhands, stay for Izzy getting in a very cathartic bar fight with Calico Jack.

BLACKBONNET - Stede/Ed

i don't know anything (but i know i miss you) by @andillwriteyouatragedy: Made me cry actual literal tears, even during rereads, and that is extremely rare for a fic. They're also just an excellent author and everything they post is brilliant, but I'm gonna give a second shout-out to through quaking, through crazy because 1) unhinged Stede gives me life and 2) it somehow manages to have the OT3 without actually having it.

O happy living things by tiptory: I think this might be the first fic I ever read in this fandom, period, but even if it's not, it's really, really good. Love me that anxiety shit.

OTHER SHIPS

sacrament that should be taken kneeling by holograms: It's Stede/Lucius, and I'd go so far as to call it aro-allo in that they spend a lot of time developing the friendship between Stede and Lucius and then they have non-romantic sex and it's fascinating.

i'd talk with the devil but i wouldn't know what to say by anirondack: Ed/Izzy, but the main draw of it for me is the whole developing-Blackbeard-the-myth as backstory. It's AMAZING.

...yeah. I have a lot. And this isn't even all of them.

#askbox #personal #Anonymous #fanfic recs #our flag means death

[mahoushoujotechsupport]

ok episode 14?

BUT WHY? HOW? PLEASE AT LEAST GIVE US A FUCKING PREQUEL MANGA ABOUT NOTRETTE

prospera watch status: she sit

i really wanna see someone write a fic where nika's secretiveness is a thing

nika really was so naive, huh? like she really thought she could go to the capitalism school to help earth. i mean yeah, she's just a kid, so there's no use in being like i told you so about it. but really it's like enrolling in the united states military and thinking you're going to be doing something good instead of just furthering imperialism lol

sophie thwarting every single one of el5n's shitty come ons is the best gag ever tbh

need a crack fic where random people try to talk to suletta and her first response is just "i'm sorry, i have a wife"

we should have known nothing good was going to happen this episode... she fucking left the couch

sir, please don't skip your meds

henao is kinda scary isnt she?

this is such a good reaction lmao

also wow i remember watching this whole episode and like yeah we knew SOMETHING was gonna happen... and then everything fuckin happens so fast. i don't know if the fast pace on this ep is a result of everything that was weird about the 2nd cour or if it was a conscious decision, but the breakneck pace in which everything happens in this show really helps to put one in the characters' shoes

thank you gjm for letting chuchu say fuck

rip jubeju

the witches from earth is suchhhh a good song lol it compliments this whole fight so well

some shirou emiya level dialogue right here

mannnn, sophie really didn't deserve that ending

norea,,,

grassley girls deserved better than to lose to guel and kenanji lol

actually, sophie, that is up for interpretation

suletta, you dumb naive little baby

lmao ok hearing sophie's dying screams is like actually uncomfortable this time around

ok so i didn't think they would spell this out for viewers so blatantly but that also made me crack the fuck up when this scene happened in the middle of the sophie v suletta fight because a good friend of mine who is an old time gundam fan refused to believe the aerial = eri theory

coolest reveal tbh

this final scene is why i really wish they'd done more to include cradle planet in the show because if you've never read it, this just makes suletta seem so absurdly naive and makes prospera seem way more evil. when the reality is that for the entirety of her life up to this point, suletta has only known aerial to be a machine used to help people via her search and rescue missions on mercury

pausing to take screenshots and stuff made this episode not seem so crazy but lmao like i said before, this episode is definitely kind of overstimulating with how much gets thrown at you all at once. everything just happens so fast

not looking forward to episode 15. i think that's the only ep i haven't given a rewatch to, so it'll be my actual 2nd time ever watching it. gonna hope there's some goodies i missed or forgot about

#g witch #rewatch time #g witch episode 14

[ladyofthenoodle]

noodles writes: masterpost

finally, it's time to compile all these into a proper masterpost like a serious fanfiction author

here's my writing tag that you can check for anything new that i haven't added here yet and my Ao3 in case you'd like to go there directly

part time soulmate, full time problem (WIP) sort-of soulmate au written for @mlbigbang 2023, rated T 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

lies of attrition (WIP) post-recreation cowritten with @wackus-bonkus-maximus, rated T 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23

married in a gold rush post-hawkmoth defeat for @ladynoirjuly 2023, rated T, 4201 words 1 | 2

all's well chat ends well (WIP) post-season 4 chat fic, rated T 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | ?

we are the foxes (WIP) alya & adrien fake dating with lovesquare prpr & dj wifi, rated G 1 | 2 | 3 | ?

team is a four letter word season 4 centric, for @mlcorefour week, alya & adrien & marinette & nino friendship with lovesquare romance, rated T, 57421 words prequels: two is company, curiosity cared for the cat 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 slideshow for chapter 10

lead me up the staircase (WIP) adrinette fake dating for a christmas party, rated T 1 | 2 | 3

our hands would not be taught to hold another’s for ladynoir july 2020, rated T, 38147 words 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 bonus: you know i will not let you down

Me, My Best Friend, and Her Cat multichat as witnessed by alya, rated T, 8702 words ao3 link

one-shots

you will never sleep alone (i’ll love you) marichat only one bed for @mlsquaredance, rated T, 8477 words

here comes the rush before we touch (come a little closer) ladrien on a tropical island for @goldenhourzine, rated T, 2013 words

wax lips to wax lips the statue scene from adrien's pov, rated G, 1933 words

oh, look now, there you go with hope again post-enemies au adrinette friendship, rated G, 1708 words

(that kiss of mine is) a carved notice of destiny post-season 4 ladynoir/ladrien for @lovesquarefanbook, rated T, 4471 words

you don’t even know me at all (but i was made for loving you) post-reveal established relationship memory loss, rated T, 6244 words

gave my blood sweat and tears for this post-hawkmoth defeat adrien angst, rated T, 594 words

how fair you were in summertime lovesquare fae AU for @afamiliarcharm zine, rated T, 3819 words

saddle up for @project-25913, ladyspik, rated T, 1003 words

pretty lady, look at how he’s smiling lovesquare, rated T, 4303 words

and say you want me season 4 lovesquare hurt/comfort, rated T, 3114 words

so lay your head on me (‘cause little do you know I) post-gang of secrets ladynoir, rated G, 771 words

hold on, i still want you 5+1 fic for thedjwifizine, rated T, 2077 words

an uncurtain discovery ladrien, rated T, 4684 words

full exposure lovesquare crack, rated M, 2728 words

coin operated boy sentiadrien angst, rated T, 1992 words with an adrichat crack sequel: he is rugged and long lasting

five times Caline Bustier tried to find love (and one time she did) exactly what it says on the tin, rated T, 4204 words

it's hard to get to know you (but i'm down) adrinette friendship, rated G, 1627 words

random snippets, drabbles, etc.

enchanted AU snippet kuro neko speculation post-hacksan ladynoir chloe writes ladrien (a group effort)

#noodles writes #writing masterpost

[acorrespondence]

I’m very glad I turned on email receipts for asks yesterday (I didn’t even realize it was off!), because tumblr ate this one from @toli-a!

17. What’s something you’ve learned about while doing research for a fic?

Oh, this is a hard one, because I’m very bad at remembering when and how I learned information unless the circumstances in which I learned it were very memorable, and most of my fic research involves getting lost in a link chain rabbit hole for hours and coming back up like I’ve just woken from a fugue state. Actually, as I was writing this I was thinking about the justified og au and remembered one of the things I researched in depth for that: the details and dangers which “robbing a mine” entails, as well as some very specific instances where attempts to do so ended in disaster. A lot of mining companies would pay people under the table to do this for them, but of course some people did it for themselves because they could make more money per ounce on the coal than the mine was willing to pay them for it. Guess which of these equally illegal activities more often resulted in arrest? Yep; if you were doing this for yourself behind the company’s back, you weren’t just accused of robbing the mine, but also of robbing the mining company.

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

This is from a collection of prequel snippets in the heavy heart universe. It was never intended to be published and instead is really just for my own reference, so it’s rougher than I’d prefer:

"Arlo says the two'a you's queer for each other."

Boyd freezes, but Raylan just rolls his eyes. "Arlo says the mailman's queer because he—I’m quotin, here—‘spends all day shovin things in mail holes.' And when my mama told Arlo that's just his job, Arlo said that made it worse, on account'a he's gettin paid for it."

Johnny laughs. "Shit. Your old man may be an asshole, Raylan, but he's a funny one."

Raylan's said far worse about Arlo himself, but he feels his hackles rise anyway. "You oughtta watch what you say, Johnny."

Johnny lounges back on the dugout bench and looks at Raylan through hooded eyes. "Careful, Raylan. We ain't in high school anymore, when our families left us to it. Your affairs are your daddy's, now, and his affairs are yours, and he ain't exactly got his affairs in order."

Boyd, still lounging against the chain link, having since recovered from his earlier jolt of fear, smirks at him. "Maybe you're well-served to mold yourself blindly in your daddy's image, cousin, but if I am truly to become my daddy, I must first become my own man."

Johnny spits on the ground. "Long as your own man ain't a fag."

(Questions here)

#justie2justie communication #writing #heavy heart #catching bullets #my fic #togina toli-a #justified #long post #f slur #q slur #tagged because they’re actually being used as slurs #raylan/boyd #thanks so much for the ask! #arlo doesn’t actually know shit he’s just being an asshole #raylan knows this and really doesn’t need boyd acting caught out and giving them away #johnny however suspects more than he’d let on #i’d be down to answer 29 again i have so much stuff in this document that will never see the light of day otherwise #ask game