#friendly neighborhood fic exchange

[prodbymaui]

These Secrets That I Have.

what if I told you that I've fallen?

PAIRING: mark lee x fem!reader

GENRE: our friendly neighborhood spiderman ; the best friends

WORD COUNT: 4.3k+ words

WARNINGS: eventual smut, choking kink, arson

SYNOPSIS: Joking that your best friend is the infamous superhero bitten by a spider has been a habit for the group. It was all a joke, until it wasn't.

A/N: THE UPSIDE DOWN KISS!! spidermark agenda, I wouldn't let you die. and forgive for the poor attempts of comedy lmao. anyways, happy reading and don't forget to share your thoughts about this fic! <3

''With great power comes..''

''Great responsibilities--''

Gasping dramatically, Johnny stands up as his finger points accusingly to the male who's unknowingly straining his vocal chords due to laughing so much.

Mark shakes his head, clapping his hands in amusement. ''Dude, everybody knows that.''

''Nobody gets it right.''

Jaehyun joins the tallest among all of you. ''Except spiderman.''

Cackles once again blooms, the way these two delivers their impromptu exposing session is so comical that you are all gasping for air.

If you didn't know better, those faces full of shock mixed with betrayal would fool you into thinking your best friend is actually the one behind the infamous red and dark blue suit with webs and spider symbols decorating it. No ones knows when it actually began, the spiderman jokes. Johnny and Jaehyun are certainly the ones to start the teasing on Mark, doting on him and urging him to 'admit it' in every chance they get. Oftentimes, the jokes are fueled by Mark's fast reflexes. Someone can react fast, alright, but something about Mark's tells that there's a deeper root or cause, Johnny's words.

Personally, you don't really think Mark would be the 'friendly neighborhood' superhero neither do you consider even the smallest chance because-- one, the male is literally with you almost 24/7 and spiderman saves people 25/8. And two, you've stayed at Mark's apartment more than you've done to your dorm, you know the in and outs, every nook and cranny of the space-- not once did you found even a mere clue that suggests what Johnny and Jaehyun had in their mind.

''You really gotta back us up here, dude. You know what you've seen.'' Once again, the faux seriousness shows in his words and his eyes widening to convince, you decides to ride his flow this time.

''Actions speaks louder than voice, Mark. If you're not spiderman, then explain the spidey senses!'' Johnny throws a cap towards Mark's direction, effectively making the man catch it within seconds, eventually proving your 'theory'.

'I told you so' looks are exchanged between the three of you. Haechan barks a laugh at that.

''This is fucking crazy.'' Clearly, he's enjoying the show judging by the tears escaping the sockets of his eyes.

The series of persistence is left to deaf ears. Mark prefers downing as much pizza as he can right now rather than dealing with endless accusations that, to say the least, is absolutely nonsensical. ''Y'all would cut this shit out or you'll have webs shoved down deep in your throat in a minute?''

By now, Mark should've known making empty threats that has connections with spiderman's universe or spiderman himself will just worsen the situation he already finds hard to be in. Albeit his ears ringing, Mark didn't make any effort to stop the banters of his friends regarding if he's the superhero bitten by a spider or he's just a natural. Concluding that the discussion is harmless, he doesn't find the need to.

Ha! It's not like he's actually the 'Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman', right?

Another groan escapes past your lips, fingers drumming the white table. 15 minutes upon arriving at 7/11, your instant ramen slash source of distraction from boredom sadly disappears in thin air. What the fuck is taking Mark Lee so long?

''--so you mean, 10 muscled people holding rifles each was nothing against 1 spider descendant or some shit?'' Your ears perks up.

''Yup, flicked those robbers away to the police like it was nothing.''

''Damn crazy, and fucking awesome.''

''That's spiderman for you,'' The boy browses through the ice cream freezer near you. ''Still can't believe he's in this area just minutes ago.''

Eh? The superhero was here? Then that would mean the said robbery took place somewhere not far from where you were eating your ramen peacefully. How come you didn't hear the sirens? You sigh, mind wondering the possible outcomes if the robbers decides to raid the stores nearby and eventually reach yours. It fuels your urge to go home even more.

Supposedly, this trip shouldn't last no more than 10 minutes considering the fact that the store is not even 3 minutes away from your dorm and choosing chips to your liking only takes less than 5 minutes of your time-- depending on how indecisive you are and how crazy your cravings are. It'll all bring you back to the comfort of your bedroom in no time, nonetheless.

But a certain someone thought it's a good idea to leave you at the store and tells you that he'll be back in a bit, making you wait like some child for their parent. Heck, no parent would even leave their child alone at a convenience store, opting to take the kid with them. He insisted on meeting here again in spite of your whines to go separate ways so you can enjoy the warmth of your bed all the while he fulfills the errand that he so eagerly wants to finish.

''This motherfucker, I swear to God.'' Informing Mark that you'll go back via message, the chair lets out a faint screech as your body heat lingers a little longer after standing up to leave. Just as you turn around, your shoulders meets a chest, sending you both to a halt as the collision sinks in. You look up to see your most awaited best friend with his unstyled chest nut hair serving as a curtain for his same shade orbs. He breathes heavily, as if catching some air to fend his lungs.

Eyes raking down his body, you drink in his appearance. He looks like he just came from.. a fight. ''The hell happened to you, dude?'' Your figure heads towards the store's exit.

''Police thought I was one of those that belonged to the robbery, took me a while to convince them I'm not, sorry.''

You snort. ''Well, I would mistake you as a robber too with this beanie and all black outfit you have.''

Mark scowls. ''They thought I'm a victim, just for your information.''

''Really? That's surprising.'' Laughing softly under your breath, you tosses a bag of chips to Mark as compensation for your teasing.

The gust of cold breeze remains disregarded, warmth coming from the other's body heat is enough to ease the coldness. Passing by where the crime occurred, your feet unknowingly fasten their pace, shuddering at the thought of danger albeit the police cars and armed officers surrounds the area in protection stance.

Overhearing a reporter going on about something along the lines of 'the cops thanking Spiderman as it weren't for him, they wouldn't be able to catch the criminals' makes you sigh.

They should really stop depending on the superhero. You thought.

''Isn't it scary?''

Mark turns to you. ''What is?''

''The way greed can drive humans to intense, irrevocable madness.  It pushes them to do these things that'll not only put their lives in danger but will also fail to satisfy their desires. Sure, they can have money in the palms of their hands with just a snap, stealing from people-- but will those bills last for a long time? Will that be enough for them? Certainly not.''

A brief glance from Mark is what you received, the bop of his head caught by your peripheral vision assures you to keep going. ''The more they steal, the more they crave. If the officials thinks that every on-going and unsolved crimes plastered on the news by the media will scare the criminals away because they are apparently doing their best to find the suspects and pull them out of wherever hole they are hiding, they're wrong. The cops wouldn't be forced to  use their best assets and experience sleepless nights if the criminals are not doing well at their job, right? Those announcements of endless searchings and calls for the people's help only pats the wanted people on their back, telling them they've done an excellent mayhem job.

Sometimes, I don't even know who to blame when crimes, like this kind, happens. Is it the criminals themselves because they lost their morals over materialistic things? Because they gave in to the urge of possessing those that goes beyond what they can comprehend? Is it the police for not hearing the reason why these criminals have done it? Is it the society who embodies judgemental and discriminating in all sorts of way that probably pushed them to do such things? Or is it the government who failed to make education and employment accessible to everyone no matter what their status in life is?''

Kicking a pebble out of your way, it creates a dull thudding sounds. ''Proper education and enabling people to have a grasp of legal source of income would probably prevent crimes from happening. I'd like to think that most are just desperate measures.''

Mark hums. ''What you said are somewhat right. They makes sense.''

''But.. ?'' You know there's more that he itches to say.

''But, as much as everyone deserves to be heard and understood, some are just born evil. Born without remorse for others. It'll surprise you how we encounter many people such them in our daily lives. So avoid thinking that criminals did what they've done because they had a traumatic and devastating life. You're unknowingly justifying the ends by their means, something you cannot do especially if the lives of innocents are on the line.''

It's unclear why Mark sounds firm and sure regarding of meeting the people he just talked about but since their existence is not exactly a secret from the whole world, you suppose he's correct.

Too caught up in your conversation, your feet reached the entrance of your dorm's building in no time. Turning around, you offer a cheeky smile at him. ''Thank heavens then that I don't need to worry about my safety.''

Mark returns your smile with a hearty scoff. He knows where this is going. ''Uh-huh, and why is that?''

''Because I have Spiderman as my best friend! You'll protect me, won't you spidey?'' Giggling, Mark nudges your arm as you walk side by side, resorting to shaking his head instead of joining your spiderman agenda.

Spiderman or not, Mark vows to himself to keep you away from the darkness of this world with all his might. He already lost his uncle, he couldn't afford to lose someone so dear to his heart once again.

The alarm blares loudly and pierces your ear drums, almost busting them yet you didn't make any effort of getting up. The ringing sounds extra loud today, though. Ah.. you don't really want to wake up. Your body shifts to a new position, hands searching where your phone lays.

Definitely, no one wants to wake up before the roosters crows in a weekend where you should be using all your time to rest in preparation of yet another tiring week.

Skin making a contact with the source of the sound, you didn't feel any vibration with it. Just as when you decided to go back to sleep and withstand the annoying ringing of the alarm, rapid knocks on your door overpowered the previous sound, effectively pulling you out of the borderline between dreamland and reality.

You sit up. ''Fuck--'' It is only then that you realized, the alarm isn't coming from your usual alarm clock. Instead, it is the fire alarm ringing and announcing the state of your building.

With panic taking over your emotions, your body moves fast. Getting all the things that you know is important before soaking a blanket in water, covering yourself with it, and finally running out to leaving your room. Tears pricks your eyes as you meet the fiery blaze engulfing the whole building, enclosing in with every blink and every breath you take. You step a few backwards, lips quivering as you try to ignore the scorching heat seeping through the wet blanket, threatening to burn your skin any minute. Your eyes wavers.

There's so many ways you could die but dying helplessly amidst of an arson is not what you fancy. A scream of horror couldn't even be used to express your fear, you remain quiet and whimpering despite the shivering of your body, arms hugging yourself.

Your doors shut close once again, your back leaning against it as you falls to the ground, drops of tears continuously running down your cheeks. The fire started from a floor below yours, or at least that's what it seemed like. Meaning you absolutely have no chance of escaping the flames unless you jump out of your window. Surely, you're somehow survive a fall from the 5th floor, right?

A rattle created somewhere in your house snaps you out of your nonlogical thoughts. Looking up, you don't know whether to believe your eyes or rub the surface of your orbs, taking a second look in case what you're seeing is just a figment of your imagination. Maybe you're slowly losing some screws in the head.

But the movement of the figure, jogging towards you, tells you otherwise. ''What the fuck.. ?''

It's real.

It's him.

It's Spiderman in the fucking flesh.

Once again, you are stolen from your trance by his arms gently pulling you up, steadying you. Without much of a warning, the superhero scoops you in his arms and flies out of the window. And holy fuck, does it scared the shit out of you that the fibers of your body started to scream nothing but hold on tight to the man who's swinging down the building with you.

The uncalled adventure ended before you could even processed that your building is currently burning down, you got stucked between the fire and now Spiderman just saved you. No one should be able to blame you if you take days to properly digest what just happened.

He stands before you for a few more seconds, as if raking down his eyes. You tilt your head when he nods and runs to save the others. ''The fuck.. ?'' For the nth of the day, you let out a curse.

Your brain is totally playing with you. There's no fucking way Spiderman helped you, made sure that you got no wounds slash you're safe and sound before nodding as if to assure himself. Johnny is gonna combust if he's to hear your story.

The comfort of the thick blanket engulfs your figure as you hold your cellphone and wallet in your hand. Sighing, you turn to Jaehyun who came to your aid at this goddamn hour. ''You don't really have to stay with me, Jay. Pretty sure this'll end in an hour or so, you can go back now.''

Stubbornly, the male shakes his head. ''Did you know how worried we are when we heard from Mark that your dorm was on fire? Johnny and Haechan almost even flew out of Busan just to make sure you're alright.''

''Dude, I'm really fine, I promise. I can manage this, just rest.''

His hand pushes your head lightly to lay on his shoulder. ''No, you rest.''

Giving up, you let yourself relax, leaning your weigh towards Jaehyun as you pull the blanket tighter around you. The dreamland train is ready to send you to your slumber when your eyes opens abruptly, realizing what Jaehyun just said.

''Jay?''

He hums.

''From whom did you heard about the fire again?''

''Uh.. Mark?''

''And where is he right now?''

''... Dunno, maybe he's somewhere that's why he couldn't come.''

Your silence tells Jaehyun you're not convinced by his reason.

He silently prays Mark doesn't kick his ass.

2 hours passed and you decided to make Jaehyun drop you off on Mark's place, opting to stay there until everything's alright back at your apartment. It is proven that the male's walls have nothing against your persistent whines as you now lay on Mark's bed, scrolling through your phone.

Ever since stepping a foot here few minutes ago, you didn't catch nor sense Mark's presence. In usual days, it's Mark who zooms from wherever he is to your place once the news of something happening to you reaches him. But today, it was Jaehyun instead.

Your thoughts ponders to where it has been circling earlier. A voice inside you says something you surprisingly don't find hard to believe. Maybe it was your best friend who found you first after all, just not in his signature beanie and all black outfit.

''That's dumb. I should stop joining Johnny and Jaehyun with their shenanigans.''

You must've gone crazy now that you're talking to yourself.

''What's so crazy about that? Doesn't everyone talks to themselves at least once? It's not like it's so bad. According to scientists, taking to yourself brings you comfort and such.''

Of course, that's bullshit. You hate reading anything that involves science.

''Mark is not the superhero who got bitten by a magical spider that turned him into a man who saves the people from fire and crimes. Mark is just your stupid of a best friend that thinks putting strawberries in a microwave is a good idea because he likes his fruits warm. Mark is your best friend who's scared of cockroaches so how come he's a hero whose powers came from a spider? Mark is not Spiderman--''

Wrong. Absolutely Wrong.

Your claims got debunked right after you lay them down. You're absolutely fucking wrong.

The superhero whom you got to meet earlier, now stands in front of you once again. Hissing at what seemed to be a burn, unaware of the other presence inside the room, the mask comes off of his head, revealing the face the media and government would pay billions of money to see.

All this time, the jokes that Johnny and Jaehyun threw weren't all bullshit. Because the moment Spiderman turns out, the familiar chestnut shade eyes meets yours, effectively stilling both of your figures.

Holy motherfucking shit.

Spiderman IS Mark Lee.

''...''

''...''

''...''

''... let's treat your burn first.''

The hero nods like a puppy.

''Ouch! At least dab it gently. I may have powers but immunity to stings isn't one of them, you know?'' That only pushes you to dab the cotton pad harder on his burnt skin, earning a yelp.

''You deserve that after hiding this secret from us for how many years.''

''Who said I hid it from all of you? Johnny and Jaehyun have known about this months ago.'' Your glare scares the superhero embarrassingly. To be fair, it's not like Mark intended to let the duo know. It was accidental.

''And you didn't even dare to tell me, your literal best friend?'' You know exactly why he didn't want to risk revealing his secret even with those he trusts the most, you just don't know how to properly mask the worry inside you.

Mark, instead, smirks. ''Just say you're worried, it's not that bad to admit it, you know?'' He's right.

Your finger fumbles the cotton, eyes staring deeply to Mark's as you weigh the outcomes if you say the very sentence that lays at the tip of your tongue. The hem of your shirt moves, courtesy of Mark of playing with them.

Fuck it.

No one knows who leans in to who, all you know is that you desire to take more than the heat coming from Mark's tongue on yours. His arm wraps around your waist, flipping your position so you would be the one to lay on the bed, hovering your figure as his kisses travels down to your neck. Whimpers escapes your lips, hand threading the brown strands while the other feels the firm chest through his suit.

Your clothes soon flies to god knows where, the chilly wind bites through your bare skin but the flames of Mark's tongue licking every surface he can eases it. The lips comes back to meet yours one more time, devouring every area that he can reach. It's nothing like you expected to experience from Mark.

It's fierce, hot, and needy.

Wet sounds of kissing echoes through the silence of the room, rustling clothes accompanying it as Mark takes off his suit.

Fingers ghosting over the line that serves as an entrance to your core, your breath hitches. They entered Mark's mouth first, sucking and licking before pulling them out full of saliva just for the show. Finally dipping inside you, a sigh couldn't help but to be let out. It's deep, something you're unable to do whenever you're left to fend for yourself.

Mark gets on it, inserting one after another with little rest in between until he feels you're stretched enough for him. You pant, the angry red tip touching and tracing the line of your pussy, enough to send you desperate. So desperate that you whine and grinds your hips upwards to meet his length.

Caging you in his embrace, Mark's lips stays on yours as his cock slowly but smoothly slides past your opening, the veins rubbing along your walls enough to receive a quiet moan from you. There's a slight sting caused by the stretched of Mark's girthy dick but that's what you wanted, for it to hurt even a bit. In order for you could feel Mark fully.

''Good?''

''So good.''

Mark chuckles, observing your facial expression as he makes circles with his hips, hand caressing your sides in a comforting way. When he senses that you've gotten used to his cock sliding in and out of your entrance, he with no doubts quickens his pace. He starts fucking.

Screams of his name along with vulgar profanity fills the apartment, loud skin slapping fuelling the hunger for release. ''More, more, more-- fuck, Mark, please.''

The male grunts. God, just your calls of his name is enough to make him come. It takes him a lot of self-control to prevent his climax from raining on him quickly. With the determination of bringing you over the edge, his hips snaps harder, harsher and faster.

The way his tip gets caught on your walls before fully pulling out is hypnotizing. Hands gripping the pillow beside your head, Mark changes his angle a bit and that's when you scream his name loud enough for the neighbors to complain tomorrow. Mercilessly, Mark's bulbous tip jabs on your spot dead on continuously, giving you no time to catch some air.

His mouth attaches to your skin as he paints it with love bruises, a remembrance of your activity. ''Aah, shit-- are you close, baby? Are you gonna come around my cock? Tighten your-- fuck-- walls around me until I can't fucking-- aah-- breathe?''

You nod, chanting his name like a mantra as you plead him to bring you the mind numbing pleasure. Scratching his back, nails digging and creating crescent moon shapes on his skin-- Mark finds himself only getting closer to coming. His fingers wraps themselves around your wrist, placing your palm on the expanse of his neck. Mark groans when he feels the pleasuring grip on the sides of his throat, eyes rolling to the back as the perfect press sends him to his peak.

With your walls pulsating around him, white cream creating a customized ring for his cock, Mark thrusts once, twice, trice and a few more before he pulls out. Ribbons of white makes itself known on your stomach through the warmth it radiates. His head is thrown to the back as his mouth falls apart, moaning your name.

Minutes passes by and it was only then that Mark came to his senses, laying carefully beside you. Despite just having his cock inside you not long ago, Mark visibly stills when you wrap your arms around his waist. You chuckle.

''Any secrets you have that you want to tell me?'' Whispering against his shoulder, Mark gains the courage of placing his arm to hug you side ways. He smiles, staring at the ceiling.

''If I didn't know any better, I'd say that smiles means you like me.''

''Well, do you?''

''Do I what?''

''Know better.''

Giggles of happiness echoes the bedroom.

It is night and your heels clicking the floor is heard along the quiet alley. You purses your lips, hands buried in the pockets of your jacket to hide from the freezing cold of the night. Eyes remaining to the ground, you steps comes to a halt when you sense another presence just behind you.

The shadow shows an upside down figure of someone, a strange yet familiar way. You turn around with no fear, smile of adore dawning your face as the sight of your boyfriend waiting greets you.

''Hi,'' Softly, you caress his upside down face. ''The people are waiting for you to save them, spidey.''

''Can I get my good luck? So I'd know someone is waiting for me to get back home?'' Chuckle rumbles on your chest as you pinch his cheek.

Your fingers tugs the hem of his mask, enough to reveal the naturally red yet slightly chapped lips that you love. Pressing a loving kiss, you hoped that Mark was able to decipher all the feelings you've put.

''Can I tell you a secret?''

You didn't wait a respond from him.

''I love you.''

You peck his lips.

''So damn much.''

You fix his mask and ensure that it wouldn't slip off of him.

''Be careful while saving the world, will you? I wouldn't know what to do if I lose mine.''

With one last kiss through the fabric of his mask, Mark vows that after helping the people, he will come back safely-- to his very own home, his own world.

#nct smut #mark lee smut #mark smut #nct #mark lee #nct 127 #nct dream #nct fanfic #mark fanfic #mark imagines #mark scenarios #mark lee x reader #mark hard hours #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fluff #mark fluff #nct x reader #nct dream smut #prodbymaui

[merotwst]

SUMMER WENT AWAY, STILL THE YEARNING STAYS !

‹. ace trappola, deuce spade, jack howl, jamil viper ›

. bulleted hcs

⇝that fleeting summer love that comes once in a lifetime.

[ n: uhh idk if i can consider this angsty??? it's kindaaaaa angsty lmao??? sort of modern au. this has been rotting in my drafts for centuries. ty for 900 ! this fic can be interpreted as romantic or platonic. not proofread. jamil when he when w ]

⑇

---→ tw. violence associated with delinquency in deuce's part.

⑇

ace trappola ‹ heartslabyul ›

. you met ace around your neighborhood one summer when you were 14.

. he was the temporary boy nextdoor staying with a relative.

. he seemed to get close to the other neighborhood kids pretty quickly and you were impressed.

. you would see him around as you passed by the basketball court or by the curb sitting on his skateboard with a popsicle in hand.

. you never made a move to approach him, but everytime you passed you would always catch each other's gaze.

. he never broke eye contact first and you always found yourself turning away from the awkward staring contests he traps you in.

. this went on for a few weeks.

. til one afternoon you were out with your friends at your usual spot.

. ace and his group of neighborhood kids arrived no later and you all collectively decided to mingle together.

. and as everyone was talking amongst themselves under the 4 pm suburban atmosphere of the neighborhood, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

. his spiky red hair and boyish grin greeted you when you turned around.

. you don't remember how it happened but you found yourself trying to balance yourself on his skateboard.

. he held your hand trying to help you balance yourself as you gently kicked on the pavement.

. ace's teasing laughs and your yelps as you tried your best to learn the skateboard went on for hours until eventually the light of the street lamp was the only illumination you both had.

. and as you sat under it, popsicles in hands exchanging friendly banter amongst yourselves, you realize how charming he actually was.

. he was still a dick at times. the way he teasingly lets you go when you're out of balance or when you fall onto the pavement and he has his good share of laughs before going over to help you.

. it pissed you off a LOT whenever he did those.

. but along with this, ace was also the boy that treated you to popsicles. he was the one who patched your little cuts and bruises from times you fell off the skateboard.

. ace was the boy who would walk you back to your front porch and wave at you with that signature cocky grin before skating back to the house he stayed at.

. and every afternoon, at the same time and same place, you and him would rendezvous because you were determined to learn to skate (mostly out of spite because he kept being an asshole).

. it had become a sort of routine. this went on for the whole summer. and you always found yourself looking forward to your little skating lessons.

. one particular evening though, as you were both walking home—well, ace walked. you skated on the board having much improved since the first time you tried it out.

. something felt a little off. you couldn't quite put your finger on it, but ace seemed to be acting a bit strange.

. he treated you to a nearby cafe without attempting to have you pay, he was a lot more talkative than usual asking about you (without saying much about himself, but you figured you could ask him some other day), and saying you could bring his skateboard home with you.

. you wanted to ask him about it, but you didn't want to ruin the moment. ace was being genuine and this was a rare occasion. if anything, you should capture this moment and hang it up a wall gilded in gold.

. he smiled. an honest smile yet somehow it felt a bit melancholic before waving you off with a goodbye, his signature grin creeping its way to his features.

. you twisted the knob to your front door but turn around one last time to see his figure move past the streetlight.

. but all you caught was a last glimpse of his shadow before he was gone.

. the following day, ace didn't show up to your usual spot.

. you still had his skateboard, so you figured you should just visit his place to see if he's alright.

. “oh my, he didn't tell you? his family picked him up early this morning.” the lady who answered the door said with an apologetic smile.

. “but i'm sure he left the skateboard with you as a gift. because otherwise he would have taken it with him.”

. you've never seen of heard from him again since. and throughout the years, you'd grown up. you gained new interests, worked part time jobs and you'd grown out of the mostly silly things you liked when you were younger.

. but occasionally, you glance at one specific corner of your room and see an old skateboard that once belonged to a boy you'd met who will always have a piece of you with him wherever he was today.

⑇

deuce spade ‹ heartslabyul ›

. at 14, you were a wild child.

. the rebellious kind. the kid that ran around at night vandalizing the buildings around the city.

. though you were a delinquent, you didn't pick fights and bully the helpless.

. you fought those who you thought deserved to get beat up, taking your anger out on the world through violence.

. you were a kid who was sick and tired of being forced to do things you didn't like.

. the typical rebellious teenager on the streets.

. during one of your escapades, you run into a boy.

. hair dyed blonde, a tacky looking jacket and a demeanor that looked as if he was ready to fight someone all the time.

. and fight he did because this boy was STRONG.

. that was clear to you the day you found yourself facing against a group of assholes who were too afraid to fight by themselves.

. they had advantage in numbers and it was frustrating for you being the only one against them.

. you turned your head to brace yourself from the impact of one of their fists when instead of the familiar pang of a fist hitting your cheek, it never came.

. instead there was a grunt and a thud. the arms holding your weak body loosened their grip on you and you took the opportunity to break free.

. that's when you first met deuce spade.

. he wasn't like most of the jerks you've met. this guy was a lot more... well, he was like you.

. he understood why you did what you did. he was essentially the same. he was frustrated so he used his fists to help ease the anger he feels towards himself.

. soon, you found yourselves spending time with each other. you fought alongside each other, you treat each other's wounds—you were partners.

. and every time you met up to hang out you would wait for deuce to show up at your meeting spot.

. then you would ride around the city in his blastcycle till you both decided you were tired and called it a day.

. you both didn't engage in violence towards anyone that wasn't another delinquent.

. and although you would get beat up sometimes, it was always better if it was with deuce.

. afterwards you would get up, ride to the nearest convenience stores and with your knuckles littered with matching bruises, eat some ice cream and laugh about whatever it was you guys thought was funny about that day.

. somehow, you found yourself feeling all the anger towards the world start to dissipate.

. you felt like the world wasn't as cruel when you were with deuce. the friendship you had gave you comfort.

. it was nice to have someone to lean on. someone who understood you.

. they were the best months if your life.

. then one day he stopped coming.

. days turned to weeks and weeks to months.

. you finally decided he wasn't coming to see you anymore.

. you found yourself wandering the city in your own. you were on your alone again.

. but instead of getting angry or going out to look for deuce, you felt like it was best if you didn't.

. deuce was a good guy deep down. if he was in any sort of trouble, you would have definitely heard about it by now.

. maybe he finally decided there's more to throwing fists at other people. maybe he finally realized life of a delinquent doesn't get you anywhere. maybe he's decided there's better things—more important things.

. because you did as well.

. so you stopped wandering the city. you stopped being angry.

. because you already knew what peace felt like around your old friend. if you can find that with him, you can find it with yourself.

. you both learned from each other and although you don't know if you'll ever see those familiar bright blue eyes again, you know he's taught you something special.

. you hope he's doing better out there.

⑇

jack howl ‹ savanaclaw ›

. during one summer when you were 10, your family took you camping.

. and as a curious child, you ran around every day since you got to camp grounds to play.

. everyday was a new adventure. and though you would play by yourself near the creek splashing on the shallow water as you listened to the cicadas chirping in the summer air from the trees above you, you didn't seem to mind.

. until one afternoon, while you were building yourself a fort made of sticks, you caught a glimpse of a pair of eyes and a fluffy tail from the tall grasses nearby.

. you were a bit scared because you thought it would be a big animal, but as you observed it some more, you could see the tail was a lot smaller.

. probably a baby wolf?

. wolves were still scary though. but your parents told you everywhere in the camp grounds was safe. it's why they let you wander around freely to play.

. maybe it was a friendly baby wolf.

. while you were contemplating whether to run away and tell your parents or stay and pet it, you felt the creature leap from the grass and land in front of you.

. it wasn't a wolf. well, not completely. it was a boy with wolf ears and a tail..!

. and he howled. well, he attempted to. it didn't come out as a roar, though. it sounded like a cute dog trying to bark really long and loud but still ended up sounding squeaky.

. it made you giggle. and by the expression he had, that didn't seem to be his goal.

. his name was jack and his family were also staying in the camp for a while.

. it didn't take long for you and jack to meet up at the same spot everyday. sometimes you would even run over to his family's camp just to call him over to play.

. and everyday, jack would attempt to howl.

. and everyday you would cheer him on, even if it didn't come out how he wanted.

. jack was serious when it came to playtime. he would give you instructions on how to build your fort. he would always gather the food (acorns and rocks) for your home (your stick fort) and would fight off any monsters (scare away wandering small animals that pass by) that try to threaten your home.

. it was sweet and you both had a lot of fun.

. you both found a seed on the ground on the day jack said his family was packing to leave.

. you planted it and pinky promised that you would both come back when the tree is fully grown.

. now you stand underneath a tall, sturdy tree and you smile at the carvings left by someone at some point in time.

. there was a mark with your initial and the letter J.

. you don't know where he is now. but you were sure he was here.

. you don't know him by anything else other than just 'jack from the other camp'.

. but you hope someday your stars will align and you'll meet again.

. and you can both stand underneath the small seed you both planted and watch its beautiful blossoms shimmer under the sun together once more.

⑇

jamil viper ‹ scarabia ›

. you were going through a messy time in your life.

. you were 24 when your friends said you should do solo travelling. they said it would help you get your mind off of your recent 3-year relationship breakup.

. with nothing really much to lose, you take their advice and book a flight off to somewhere.

. the only problem now was if you could actually fly off to that somewhere.

. they couldn't let you board because your baggage exceeded the weight limit. and now you sit down in the airport bench, aggressively taking out your clothes and considering just throwing them at a garbage bin.

. you sigh deeply and frustratedly and just considered going home.

. until a man came up to you. he was beautiful with gorgeous long black hair and dark skin.

. he said he'd overheard your situation with the flight baggage earlier and offered to keep some of your clothes in his bags.

. he felt bad since you seemed like you really needed to get on this flight.

. although you grew up being told not to trust strangers but you were too enamored with his effortless charm (he wasn't trying to charm you, he was just very hot) to decline. ted bundy would have loved you, you thought.

. besides he seemed very genuine. he told you he had a sister and he said she would get upset if he didn't help someone in need.

. and as he zipped up his luggage that now had a mixture of your clothes. that was what got you onto your plane.

. when you landed to your destination, the man came up to you again to return your clothes.

. you asked where he was headed. he said he was headed anywhere. you said you were headed anywhere, too.

. this man could be a killer on the loose. there is a high possibility you could get murdered and go missing.

. but when he started thinking and eventually said he didn't mind a travel buddy for a time, your heart skipped a beat.

. you found out his name was jamil. and this wasn't his first time travelling. he goes out to visit places every year ever since he graduated from college.

. he doesn't talk much about himself, but he didn't seem to mind listening to you talk.

. he had one rule, though. whenever he travels, he never uses his phone to go online unless it was for communicating with his family. he says that going off the internet and trying to experience life and the beauty of the places you go to completely was the only way he'd let you travel with him.

. so you turned off the internet. tuned everything out and focused on the world.

. and somehow, you found yourself thinking of all the burdens of your life lesser. whenever you felt the breeze of the ocean hit your face or you wandered around the local shops, you felt yourself feeling more freer.

. jamil was a dream, too. you don't know his last name, you don't know where he's from, but he always treated you kindly.

. and you got to learn subtle things about him the more you spent time together.

. like how he loved taking pictures of the sunset and the feeling of the ocean waves hitting his feet. he would kick his feet up to splash some water on you and you would do the same until you were both almost soaked.

. he would dissect the food you guys ate. not in a bad way.

. he would try to figure out how it was cooked and write it on a little leather notebook he carried around with him.

. he liked to ask the locals more about the place you were both at and learn everything there was to know about the place.

. he also loved to listen to music whenever you were riding public transport.

. you both grew accustomed to each others' presence. and on the last night of your stay, he took you to the beach and taught you how to dance.

. you donated your extra clothes to a local charity (his suggestion) before you went home.

. he took you to the airport. he wouldn't be flying back yet.

. but he said the week you spent together was something he wouldn't forget.

. you left him with a tight embrace and a thank you. he let you leave with the promise that if your paths ever cross again, he'll tell you his full name.

. you arrived home with less baggage (literally and figuratively), but plenty of photos on your phone of the man who gave you the most magical week of your life.

© merotwst 2023 · do not steal, translate, copy or reproduce.

#this is my favorite jamil fic ive ever written #dreamy sigh #beautiful stranger here u are #. merowrites #twisted wonderland #ace trappola #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade #deuce spade x reader #ace x reader #deuce x reader #jack howl #jack howl x reader #jack x reader #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #jamil x reader #twisted wonderland x reader

[remember-that-one-blog]

Picking Up the Pieces

Here is another series I decided to start. Let me know what you think! I do have a few original characters and they will be named but this is a reader insert fic. The reader will not be names and I do not do Y/N, I was never a fan of those personally, but I did want y’all to know how this would be and how any of my fics will be if you decide to read them. I’ll be posting Part 3 of my other series later as well!

********

Warnings: talk of car accident, death, miscarriage

You looked around as you made your way down the street. Your pitbull Diesel sniffed around at the new place he was. You couldn’t believe your luck. You had always wanted to move out toward Boston but not quite in the city. When your real estate agent found a small house in Sudbury you knew immediately this was where you were meant to be. After everything that has happened to you in the last year, you needed a fresh start and this was it. You smiled as you walked through the quaint town. It was a crisp fall day and the leaves were changing colors. You thought it was poetic for your situation. Fall is a season of change and this was the exact change you needed.

You smiled as you passed a couple walking their dog. Diesel started wagging his tail but they looked at him and crossed the street. You sighed looking at him. Bless his heart. He didn’t understand why no one wanted to pet him or play with him. You scratched the back of his ears. 

“It’s okay, buddy. They don’t know what they’re missing.” He wagged his tail happily at you while the two of you went on your way. You met another lady walking her dog as well. You gave her a soft smile and she gave you one back. She stopped a few feet in front of you. 

“I know this might seem cliche, but is your dog friendly? I always ask before I let Dodger near another one.”

“No worries and yes, Diesel is friendly.” She made her way closer to you. Diesel and Dodger sniffed each other and started wagging their tails. You smiled. You were so glad this woman decided to give him a chance. 

“I didn’t want to sound prejudiced, he didn’t look mean.”

“It’s fine. People usually cross the street or freeze when they see him. He’s the best dog I’ve ever had though.”

“I’m Lisa, by the way. I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before and you don’t sound like you’re from around here either.” You introduced yourself as well.

“I’m not, I just moved here from Kentucky actually.”

“Welcome to the neighborhood. Your accent gave you away.” You couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m not surprised, it usually does.” The two of you stood there for a while watching Diesel and Dodger run back and forth for a bit. She asked you which house you moved into and it turned out to be the one right across the street from her.

“Would you like some company on the walk back? These two seem like they’re gonna be great friends.”

“I would love that, thank you Lisa.” The two of you headed back towards your houses. Diesel and Dodger played with each other the entire way back.

“What made you want to move out this way.” Your heart sank a little at the question.

“That’s a pretty long story, but the short version is I needed a new start and I always wanted to move out this way. The stars just seemed to align and here I am.” You didn’t want to dump your baggage on this sweet woman. She was just too kind.

“Well, I’m glad your new start is here in Sudbury. There isn’t a place like it.” You believed her. The second you moved here it felt as if you had been here your entire life. The two of you exchanged numbers so Diesel and Dodger could have a playdate soon. You walked in letting Diesel off his leash. You looked around your house and smiled. This was the exact start you needed.

~

A few days later you were baking some cookies when there was a weird sound at your door. Diesel looked at you to see what was going on. The two of you made your way to the door. You opened the door and saw Dodger in front of your screen door. You opened it and he made his way inside.

“What are you doing here, Dodger? Did you get out?” You looked across the street to see the lights off at Lisa’s. Just to make sure she wasn’t home you put both dogs inside and made your way across the street. You knocked on the door waiting for an answer. You didn’t hear any noise on the other side of the door. You knocked one more time and still no answer. You made your way back over to your house and called Lisa’s cell.

“Hello, dear. Are you okay?” 

“Yes, I’m fine. You’re not home are you?”

“No, I’m at the airport picking my son up. Did you need something?”

“No, I was just making sure. Dodger got out, but he’s at my house. I just wanted to let you know where he was and that he was okay.”

“Thank you, dear! Oh I don’t know how he got out. You don’t mind keeping him until I get back do you?”

“Not at all. He and Diesel are running around playing right now.” You laughed as they chased each other around your coffee table. The two of you talked for a few more minutes while she waited for the plane to land. You said your goodbyes after it landed. You turned around to see both dogs curled around each other asleep on your loveseat. You laughed and decided to feed them when they woke up. The timer went off for your cookies. You smiled as you heard paws hit the floor. You sat the hot tray on top of the oven.

“Those are not for you two. However, I do believe it’s time to eat and then go on a walk, how does that sound?” Both dogs barked at you excitedly about the idea of a walk. You got your other dog bowl out and filled both up so both dogs could eat. You got the cookies off the baking sheet and put some more dough on it and put it back in the oven. When the dogs finished eating you got them ready for a walk. When the timer went off for your last batch of cookies you sat them on top of the oven and let them cool while you took the dogs for a walk.

~

You were halfway back to your house when you heard a car horn and your name being called. You turned to see Lisa. You smiled as she rolled her window down. 

“You didn’t have to walk him, dear.”

“I don’t mind at all. I also fed him when I fed Diesel, so he’s already done his business and by the looks of it is ready for a nap.” You laughed as you looked at the tired dogs. Lisa laughed with you.

“Looks like it. Would you like a ride the rest of the way?”

“That’s okay, if Diesel doesn’t finish his walk he’ll have the zoomies for an hour tonight. I can put Dodger in if you want though.”

“Sounds good. I know he’s missed Chris.” She looked over to the person in the car with her. You would be lying if you said your heart didn’t skip a beat at how handsome he was. He leaned across the middle console.

“Hey, Dodge! Did you miss me?” Dodger started barking and going in circles. You laughed as you led him to the car. Lisa unlocked the car doors and you opened the back so Dodger could hop inside. Dodger was immediately in Chris’s lap.

“Thank you again for keeping him.”

“I don’t mind at all.”

“Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight, as a thank you.”

“I couldn’t impose.”

“I insist. Dinner will be ready at seven.” You just nodded at her. She drove on up to her house as you finished your walk with Diesel.

~

Later that night you headed over to Lisa with a plate of cookies in tow. You knocked on the door and waited. The door opened and your heart stopped again as you realized it was Chris that opened the door. Your heart needed to quit doing that. You didn’t need to go there. Not again. Dodger ran to you distracting you from your thoughts. You gave him some scratches on the head and smiled at him. You didn’t see it but Chris gave you a small smile watching you with Dodger.

“Right on time. You didn’t have to bring anything.” He nodded at the plate in your hand.

“I was raised to never show up empty handed.” He gave you a bright smile taking the plate from you.

“Where are you from? You don’t sound like you’re from around here.” You laughed at his question.

“Like I told Lisa, it usually does. I’m from Kentucky. I’ve only been here a couple of weeks.”

“Ahh, that explains the accent. What made you move here?”

“Needed a fresh start and this seemed like the right place.”

“This place is pretty great. I miss it when I’m away.”

“Do you travel a lot?” He gave you a quizzical look. As the two of you made your way further into the house.

“Yeah, do you know who I am?” You were confused.

“I’m sorry, but should I ? Have we met before?” He shook his head. He gave you a small smile and led you into the kitchen.

“Sorry, no, we’ve never met before. Um, that sounded terrible. I just assumed you knew who I was. Most people do.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t.” Chris sat the cookies on the counter as Lisa turned to you. She looked at the plate Chris sat on the counter. Lisa ushered you to sit at the table as she brought the lasagna over and sat it down. “Lisa, this looks wonderful.” She sat down and so did Chris. Dodger made his way over to you laying down at your feet. You bent down and gave him a couple of scratches behind the ears. Lisa and Chris started filling up your plate for you and then theirs. They were so kind and you appreciated that with people you just met. After you all had food on your plate you started eating. 

“So, what made you move out here? I know you said you needed a fresh start, but why the big move?” You looked to Chris as he asked his questions.

“It’s a long story and pretty sad. I don’t think it would make for a great dinner conversation.”

“We don’t mind, dear, but if you don’t want to talk about it that’s fine, too.” You gave Lisa a small smile. You didn’t want to bring their moods down, so you opted not to talk about it. Sensing that Lisa changed the subject. The three of you talked about a lot of different things. They asked you what it was like growing up in Kentucky, what your favorite thing was and what you missed the most. Conversation flowed easily and you were grateful. Once everyone was finished with their plates Chris started clearing the table. You stood up to help.

“I can get this.”

“I don’t mind. It’s the least I could do since you had me for dinner.” He relented and you helped him take everything to the kitchen. You helped put the leftovers up and insisted you wash the dishes. Chris relented as long as he could dry. The two of you stood there in silence for a while. It wasn’t awkward, but it was comfortable. 

“So, what do you do for a living? Since you thought I would know you?” You asked after a while. Chris laughed at your question.

“I’m an actor.” Your heart stopped. 

“Really?”

“Yes, I’ve been in quite a few movies. It’s been so long since someone hasn’t recognized me that it caught me off guard when you didn’t.”

“I can see that. I don’t watch movies that much. I mostly read.” 

“What do you read?”

“Anything. Romance, thriller, horror, you name it, I read it.” You laughed and he laughed with you. “What kind of movies are you in?”

“A little of everything. Most recently it’s been Marvel movies. I play Captain America.”

“Oh! Like the comics?” Chris nodded. “I read the comics when I was younger. I knew they made movies about them. I’ve just never watched them.”

“Would you like to go get some coffee after we’re finished? I know a nice little spot.” There is no way this handsome man, let alone an actor, was asking you out for coffee. You started to panic a little. You said you wouldn’t do this again. Never again.

“I don’t know.”

“We don’t have to jump into anything. It’s just a neighbor asking a neighbor for coffee. What do you say?” You looked over at him and you could tell he meant it. 

“Okay, but I need to let Diesel out first.”

“Okay.”

~

Chris came over to get you after you let Diesel out. The two of you drove about ten minutes down the road to a little coffee shop. He drove around to the back door. There someone let you in. You assumed as to not disturb the crowd that was already there. They led you to a secluded room in the back. The two of you ordered your coffees.

“You can say no to this and I won’t ask again.” You nodded for him to continue. “But what led you here? Why did you need a fresh start?”

“It’s a sad story, are you sure you want to hear it?”

“Not if you don’t want to talk about it, but I would love to know more about you.” You took a deep breath and nodded.

“Well, to start. I was married. His name was Jake.” You smiled thinking about your husband. “About a year and a half ago we bought a house with our dogs and we were ready to start a family. We had actually just found out I was pregnant and we were coming from the doctor’s office after they confirmed it. We were so excited.” You started to tear up. You grabbed a napkin off the table and dabbed your eyes. “On the way home we were hit by a drunk driver.” You took a deep breath and stilled yourself for the next part. “Jake died on impact and I lost the baby a few days later.” Chris reached across the table putting his hand on yours.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that. Did you have your parents or his?” You shook your head.

“No, I lost my parents the same way not long after Jake and I got married. His parents wrote us off when we got engaged so now it’s just me and Diesel. After Jake died a lawyer showed up and it turned out he had been investing since before we got engaged. He made sure I was taken care of and that’s how I ended up here.”

“So you said you had two dogs. What happened to your other dog?”

“She was old. I had to put her down right before I moved out here. Her name was Abby.”

“Wow, you’ve been through so much. You’re a strong woman.” The waitress brought your coffee. You both thanked her. “I’m sorry you had to go through all of that. I am glad you ended up in Sudbury, I’m just sorry about the circumstances.”

“I’m glad I’m here too.” You gave him a small smile. The smile he gave you back was blinding. You said you would never date again, but there was something about Chris. You weren’t about to jump into anything obviously, but you still weren’t sure. Maybe, just maybe this man would wiggle his way into your heart.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #steve rogers x reader #chris evans series #steve x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans one shot #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fandom #chris evans oneshot #steve imagine #Steve Rogers

[eurydicees]

center by sir chloe ☝🏼☝🏼☝🏼

shoutout to when i asked for music recs in exchange for fics in september and then wrote, like, one of them. well. better late than never?

the heart of the matter is that i love you quietly

summary: in the car, after a confession, kuroo talks. kenma listens. everything is as it should be, except for how it's not. prompt: music recs, center (sir chloe) pairings: "it's complicated/situationship" tetsurou kuroo/kenma kozume words: 2031 warnings: none

In Kenma’s head, they’re on the train together, making their way home from evening practice. They’re pressed close together on the seat, their thighs just brushing and knees knocking together every now and then with the unpredictable motion of the train. 

Kuroo is on his phone, texting or scrolling through some social media app Kenma hasn’t checked in months. Kenma is on his PSP, playing a game, maybe one he's already completed but found himself yearning for a replay and a chance to try out a new route. 

In Kenma’s head, they are eternally comfortable with each other and Kuroo never said what he did and nothing ever changed. 

But the truth is that they’re stuck in the never-ending Tokyo traffic on a road that doesn’t seem to ever turn or smoothen out and Kuroo is humming softly along to the music and—by all means, this should be fine. Except there’s a tension in the air that hasn’t been there in years—not since the first time Kuroo said it—and maybe Kenma is the only one who notices it, but it’s there nonetheless. 

Kuroo says, “There must be an accident up ahead,” and Kenma just nods. Kuroo continues, “Well, according to the GPS, we’ll be back in less than two hours, at least,” and Kenma offers a bare hum of acknowledgement. 

“You’re awfully quiet today,” Kuroo observes. 

Kenma shrugs, turning to look out of the window. It’s dark, much later at night than he really would have liked to be out, and he can’t see much in the way of scenery. There’s just headlights and a glint of his own reflection. He looks tired, even to himself. 

“I’m always quiet,” he says, eventually. 

Kuroo snorts. “Not like this. There are different kinds of quiet. This is your overthinking and anxious quiet, not your contemplative or bored or analytical quiet.” 

“I thought I was supposed to be the observant one,” Kenma mutters. “I’m fine, Kuroo.” 

“I’m allowed to steal your tricks once in a while.” Kuroo quiets for a moment while the car inches just a little further forward. Then, “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you? What I said earlier.” 

Kenma swallows, shrugging noncommittally. Kuroo doesn’t say anything, though if that’s because he’s waiting for Kenma to speak or because he doesn’t have words of his own, Kenma doesn’t know. 

Finally, Kenma turns away from the window to glance at Kuroo, and then to the license plate in front of him. “How can I not think about it?” 

“It’s not a big deal,” Kuroo says, subdued and dulled. “Or it doesn’t have to be. I told you not to worry about it. It’s my problem to worry about, not yours.” 

Kenma can feel his heart flinch at those words. “Then why even bother telling me?” 

Kuroo’s hands tighten their grip around the steering wheel. If he weren’t driving, Kenma imagines his knee would be shaking: up, down, up, down. In his head, they’re going to forever be on that train, before the first time; and now, before the second time. 

They had gotten halfway through the train ride back to their neighborhood when Kenma felt Kuroo’s eyes weighing on him. And it’s not like that’s exactly abnormal, because Kuroo watches people in much the same way Kenma does, even if he’s able to play it off as friendly rather than analytical. But this gaze felt different. Kenma remembers pausing his game to look over at Kuroo and ask what he was looking at. 

In his head, he had not done this. But the memory goes differently than he would have liked it to. 

What happened, instead, is that rather than ignoring it, he looked over at the flush of Kuroo’s cheeks and the unsteady bouncing of his knee and the stiff, uncomfortable way he forced himself to sit straight up and look away from Kenma. What happened, instead, is that Kenma studied him just a little too long; and saw that it’s almost like Kuroo was scared of what he himself would see in Kenma, or, like he was scared that Kenma would keep seeing him. 

“Say it,” Kenma had told him. “What’s wrong?” 

Kuroo exhaled, a little shaky, but determined. No—resigned. “Lev told you, didn’t he?” 

Kenma swallowed. He looked away from Kuroo, and maybe that was answer enough, or maybe it’s not, because Kuroo forced himself to continue. 

“He told you I’m in love with you, right?”

And look, Lev might have said something during a water break only a few hours ago, sure, but Kenma already knew. He knew before Lev, he knew before that train ride that feels they never left. He knew back in middle school, when Kuroo had begun to grow more and more excited about his life at Nekoma but never once looked away from Kenma. He knew. 

But still, it’s different to hear it said out loud. It’s different for it to come from Kuroo himself. It’s different, Kenma knows, because hearing Kuroo say it, confess to him, hurts so much more than Kenma had ever imagined it would. 

In the end, he had said, “Yeah,” and Kuroo had given him a sharp nod, wordless but still saying so much, and that had been the end of that. Kuroo didn’t bring it back up again, and neither did Kenma. On top of that, Kuroo must have told someone who told someone who spread the word, because any teasing about the blurred lines of their friendship stopped by the next day. 

That should have been the end of it. Only here they are, two years later, and Kenma is once again thinking about what he was almost able to forget about after so much time and careful establishing of platonic boundaries; and after two years of Kenma pushing down and away all the thoughts and feelings and wantings of his own that are all so much easier to strangle than to say. 

In his head, Kuroo did not confess in high school and it didn’t change everything for months and months, until they settled into a new rhythm with Kuroo away at university. In his head, this first confession did not wake up anything so overwhelming inside of Kenma himself. 

And in Kenma’s head, Kuroo did not confess again, only an hour before the biggest game of his university career so far, when Kenma had come to watch and then to drive back home together for the weekend. He had not done it in an empty hallway between the court and the locker room. He had not pulled Kenma aside only a few minutes before the game’s start. 

Kuroo had not said, “Don’t freak out when I say this, okay?” and he had not said, breathless and anxious and, again, so resigned, “I’m in love with you and I think I always will be, and I don’t expect you to—I don’t expect—I just need you to know. I’m tired of keeping secrets from my best friend. And it can’t come from Lev or whoever again.” 

Then Kuroo had been pulled away to warmups, leaving Kenma with that stupid, soft, adoring smile. Leaving Kenma to stare after him in that deserted hallway. Leaving Kenma to his desperate wishing that those words had never been said aloud. 

“I don’t like keeping secrets from you,” Kuroo says, sitting in the driver’s seat of the car, staring out at the taillights on their drive back home, some darker, more practiced echo of what he had said under the fluorescents of the stadium hallway. Then he laughs, a little too self-deprecating for Kenma’s comfort. “It’s not like you didn’t already know, Kenma. We’re both well aware that you knew.” 

Kenma doesn’t say anything to that. He turns back to the window, squinting at the glass to see past his own reflection and into the spot in the road next to them. “That lane is moving faster. You should merge.” 

“It’s that kind of attitude that creates traffic,” Kuroo says, which Kenma isn’t totally sure is true, but for once he doesn’t feel like taking up an argument. 

It would be such an easy way out of the conversation—starting a mindless argument, that is—but Kenma doesn’t take it, despite everything in him wanting to avoid the actual subject at hand. He sighs, deep and steady. 

“Yeah,” he admits, more to himself than to Kuroo. “I knew.”

Kuroo seems to recognize immediately that they aren’t talking about traffic anymore. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps his gaze steady on the car head. Again, the silence is uncomfortable, strained, and Kenma hates it, hates what this confession has done to a decade of friendship, hates that Kuroo was brave enough to give such a confession—and, really, honestly what Kenma hates is that he himself still isn’t brave enough to listen to it. 

Because—because it’s not like Kenma doesn’t love him back. It’s just that Kenma is too scared to say it. 

Kuroo has been waiting for Kenma to hear him out for two years now. He’s probably willing to wait a lifetime for Kenma to be brave enough for the vulnerability that comes with sharing a heart with another person. Kuroo has always been patient, if it’s regarding Kenma. 

Kenma, meanwhile, has been waiting for Kuroo to give up or get discouraged or frustrated or angry or bitter for years, and it has yet to happen. But still, there’s always time for the other shoe to drop. One day, in his quest to uncover all that Kenma has kept hidden, he’ll bite down too hard and make bleed the hand that feeds him. 

“Kenma—” Kuroo stops. Takes a deep breath; lets the car roll forward another few feet. “I don’t expect you to love me back, whatever promises we made back in high school. A lifetime has passed since you said to give you time to think, you know? I don’t expect you to be in love with me—that’s not why I confessed.” 

Kenma swallows, another question or protest or something on his lips, but Kuroo shakes his head and Kenma shuts up. 

Kuroo finally turns away from the stillness of the traffic to look at Kenma. He’s smiling, even if it’s a little sad, when he says, “You don’t need to worry so much, Kenma, I promise. I’m never going to get tired of being your friend. Whatever you figure out about your own feelings, and however long you need, that’ll always be true.” 

“You deserve better than waiting for me,” Kenma says, feeling somewhat hollow as he says it, as he suggests that Kuroo find someone else to love. 

Kuroo snorts, turning back to the car ahead of them. “Do you listen to anything I say? It’s not waiting for anything. You’re my friend first and I’m never going to be tired of having that.” 

Kenma closes his eyes, tired of the taillights and the reflection of his own breaking heart. “Okay. If you say so.” 

Kuroo hums. There’s infinite understanding in the sound and Kenma isn’t sure that he deserves it, but Kuroo has always been the kind of person to give until he has nothing left and Kenma has always asked for infinity. 

“You don’t have to say it back,” Kuroo says tentatively, “but can I tell you I love you now? No expectations, just—it’s nice to say out loud.” 

Kenma’s heart is in his throat, a lump of coal which could maybe be a diamond if Kuroo keeps pushing and Kenma keeps letting him. “That’s okay.” 

“Okay,” Kuroo says, a real smile broadening over his face. “I love you.” 

Kenma bites down on his bottom lip. He thought that the weight of Kuroo’s I love you would be oppressive and stifling, but he finds that he’s biting back a pleased laugh rather than the urge to cower. “You’re so embarrassing.” 

Kuroo laughs. “I can live with that as long as we’re friends.” 

Kenma rolls his eyes, but—yeah. It’s definitely something happy he’s holding in at the center of his chest, at the molten core of his heart. Maybe one day soon, he’ll be brave enough to taste it on his tongue and let it fly free. “Sure, Kuro.” 

#i have a normal number of emotions abt kuroken btw. #my writing #haikyuu #kuroken #tetsurou kuroo #kenma kozume #kuroo tetsurou #kozume kenma #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fanfiction #kuroken fic

[hanleiacelebration]

Exchange assignments are out!

We’ve received your requests, your prompts, your offers — so much variety and creativity in the HanLeia fandom! We employed our best matching magic and possibly also the Force, and found what we hope will be a great match for each of our participants. And now through the power of AO3, you should have received your assignment for the exchange!

So what’s next?

Find your assignment. Assignments went out to the email address you use for your AO3 account. (Be sure to check junk or bulk mail boxes if it didn’t land in your inbox.) You can also log onto AO3 and find your assignment in your dashboard under “Assignments.” If for some reason you did not receive your assignment, please contact one of the mods.

Make sure you're Tumblr-ready for the exchange. Make sure the Tumblr used in your sign-up is set up to receive anonymous messages, and that you check that Tumblr account regularly (at least every couple of days) during the exchange to respond to messages from your writer or from the mods, as this will be the primary way folks will get in touch with you about exchange business. Plus, it can be a fun way to share the excitement with other participants!

Say hello (secretly!!) to your giftee. Within the next couple of days, send an anonymous message to your recipient's Tumblr Ask box to say hello. This is a great opportunity to ask your giftee questions about their preferences or prompts, to bounce story ideas off of them, or just to greet them and say that you're excited to be working on their gift. And by no means do you have to limit yourself to one message — a little back-and-forth with your giftee can build excitement and help you with your story. If your giftee's Tumblr does not allow anonymous messaging, please contact the mods and we'll remind them to turn that feature on.

Have fun writing! Mods will be checking in with folks the week of December 25 (halfway point, -ish) to see how things are going, but don't feel like you need to wait until then to ask questions or ask for help. Need a beta reader, a cheerleader, or someone to help you bounce around story ideas? Hit us up! Have a problem or a question? Let us know!

Submit your fic via AO3 once it's ready. You'll go to your AO3 account, find "Assignments," go to "2023 HanLeia Holiday Exchange" and hit "Fulfill". Then follow the instructions and AO3 will do the rest!

As always, your friendly neighborhood mods are here to help. You can send an ask to our inbox here at the blog, or contact one of us directly -- @lajulie24, @otterandterrier, or @hanorganaas.

Happy writing, friends!

#mod post #hanleiaholidayexchange2023

[arsonyte]

Crack A Smile, Sir (Egon Spengler x OFC)

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Rating: General

Author’s Notes: As requested by @spenglerposting, this fic is inspired by Joy Again’s “Looking Out For You”. Barely proofread (I tried!), please bear with me.

This is a love song for a girl who will never know it's about her I know it's pretty stupid, but I'm much too shy to tell her She's beaming that smile, all the while I'm all choked up on my own throat, I guess there is no hope

Sweat running cold down the back of his neck, Egon Spengler found himself facing an empty firehouse, almost five minutes before midnight.

Panting, gasping, clutching his suitcase against his chest, he chastises himself inside his head. Peter after all did warn him that he will be coming home to a dark lab if he didn’t stand up from his usual spot in the library. He didn’t tell him, amidst all the racket Peter was making (gathering all the librarian’s negative attention towards him, as usual), that he was too busy hiding in the library on that one miserable Christmas Eve. 

He was hiding from you.

You may be a contractor bio analyst/technician for the now-famed “Ghostbusters”, more like the friendly neighborhood Paranormal Exterminators, but you’ve known Dr. Peter Venkman, Dr. Ray Stantz, and especially, Dr. Egon Spengler from your time at the Columbia University. You were some wide-eyed biotech graduate student who may have been initially dragged into Dr. Venkman’s psychic “experiments”, but thanks to the wit and grace of Dr. Stantz, you completely saw through Peter’s machinations. Despite being unable to coax you into his wiles, Venkman still became one of your good friends, allowing you to consult and work with Ray regarding your research on plasma biology.

It was Dr. Spengler who was actually hard to crack. Ray’s closest friend usually worked at the back of their office, hunched over some energy-measurement meter of some kind, with sparks from his solder being reflected on those round spectacles. Whenever you talked, consulted, exchanged notes with the jolly Dr. Stantz, you’d barely hear from the other academian, unless he had to interject with a correction or an obscure fact which Ray would just enthusiastically confirm and explore. Most of the time, he’d just stay quiet in his corner, shoving another piece of Cheez-it in his mouth.

You somehow got used to the three differing personalities in the Parapsychology department -- the flirty Venkman, the enthusiastic Stantz, and the ever-elusive Spengler. However, the word “elusive” took on a new meaning that night you offered him the last Twinkie in the box you brought in that one long night you agreed to help Stantz and Spengler with their ghost research. The ever coveted Twinkie almost fell into Peter’s conniving hands, but by some stroke of luck -- you were the last person who got ahold of it (and despite you being a usual fixture in their department, Peter wouldn’t steal it out of a guest’s hands -- a lady guest’s hand even) and instead of eating it, you stuck your hand out and offered it to the sulking scientist who regretted not getting to do the groceries the night before. 

Things were never the same after that, but you -- being the oblivious scientist yourself buried in her own work, barely noticed it.

First it was those helpful comments when you were building your own version of a P.K.E. meter to help Ray test his plasma subjects. The helpful comments were also accompanied by a few tweaks by his own hands here and there, and completely ignoring your exasperated “Please let me do it, Dr. Spengler!” noises behind him. 

Then there was the unopened box of crunch bars left at your station. And the spare notebook that was just handed out to you, without any hesitations, when you ran out of pages in the middle of an experiment. And the expensive Parker sign pen almost thrust in your nose when your pen ran out of ink. And that one evening when you woke up in the darkness of the lab, having fallen asleep beside the microscope. You found yourself covered in a thick blanket you’ve never seen before, but it wasn’t similar to what Ray often used (which he just often took out Venkman’s cabinet). But it wouldn’t have been Venkman (as he’s busy dating his current psychic assistant), nor could it have been Ray (as he left the lab five hours ago to chase a lead). You started getting ideas when you heard the crunch of a Cheez It coming from the other room.

You swore that you were so close to making Egon Spengler smile (a feat that most of his students wanted to do before their graduation day), and you did see the corner of his lip twitch upward when you correctly assumed the correct equation to the experiment they were doing before they ran off to the New York Public Library. Well, right after that they were expelled by the Dean and you had to go looking for another department to work with to finish your mini-thesis. And the rest was history.

It was barely six months when you were looking for a part-time internship to cover your requirements and you got that phonecall from Ray. Enthusiastic as ever, almost hollering on the phone, Dr. Stantz talked about their first catch and the need to have someone come in and help analyze the subjects. Maybe come in for a few days, provide the results, and then back out. It wasn’t a full time job, the pay wasn’t going to be as steady, but it had everything you needed to work on your CAPSTONE project. Ray didn’t even have to beg -- you immediately said yes.

You did it for your studies. You can say that. You do wanted to graduate on time -- somehow. But somehow, there was that tiny voice in your head wondering if you would ever get the chance to make Dr. Spengler smile before you graduate. Little did you know, it wasn’t really Ray’s idea to invite you to join their cause.

It was almost as quiet as your lab days in Columbia, but it was chaos the moment the fire alarm was rung. Then there would be some days when the plasma subjects would pile up and you would find yourself sleeping over, curled up on the single sofa in the middle of the lab. Somehow, there were nights when you’d wake up in that same comforter you recognize from Columbia, and you couldn’t help but peer around the corner as if waiting to hear a bag of Twinkie opening itself. 

There was that one night when you finished your work early, turned in the papers, and almost crashed into the boys who just arrived on their remodeled Cadillac.

“Going somewhere, Y/N?” You heard Spengler address you with your last name after you greeted Ray. This wasn’t the first time you saw him in the Ghostbuster jumpsuit, but there was something that made you step back when he towered over you. (Spengler on the other hand, wondered if you were startled with the smoking ghost trap hanging from a cord on his hand.) 

“She’s got a hot date!” Venkman called out behind him as he entered Hook & Ladder Company 8′s double doors.

You barely noticed the “Huh” that escaped Spengler’s mouth, nor the way Ray signaled to him, crossing his hands back and forth, trying to deny what Venkman just stated.

“It’s not a date!” You were used to Venkman being ridiculous that way. “I was going to return a senior’s book-bound thesis--”

“That’s how it starts!” Venkman’s voice now came from within the doors, causing Stantz to palm his face. Spengler, however, wasn’t listening. “Where will your dinner be?” He asked as if he wanted to take you there, swinging the ghost trap out of the way so he can step closer to you without driving you away again.

You raised an eyebrow. “It’s just at the Galleria around the corner,” you gestured, making a face at Stantz, as if a plea for help to get out of the situation. “I’ll be back next week--”

He already had his back turned to you and Stantz when he looked over his shoulder and quietly asked, “Is the report on the Chinatown Ghost subject done?”

You blinked at him. “Yes,” you answered. “I left it on your desk.”

Ray wondered if you were that oblivious to see the sad glint behind Egon’s thick glasses. “Good,” he answered flatly. “See you next week.”

What you didn’t know was Egon actually hovered around Janine’s station the rest of the night, asking if there was any ghost incident call coming from the Galleria. Venkman left an off comment wondering if Spengler would like to haunt the restaurant himself.

It may have already seemed obvious to the boys, but it wasn’t that obvious to you. Or, you just didn’t want to recognize it, thinking that maybe Egon just thought of you as one of his good friends.

You start having doubts when you find a note underneath his microscope that read: 

If anything happens to us -- then this microscope set is yours. 

P.S. The black trunk beside the fridge is yours too. Take care of it. 

You’ve always noticed that black trunk beside the refrigerator, which you often piled the completed reports you have regarding the ghost cases. Pushing the wad of yellowing papers aside, you managed to clear the lid of the trunk and eventually unlocked it, only to discover dozens and dozens of petri dishes inside. The strong odor of molds filled your head.

“Huh,” you found yourself mimicking Egon during that night when you went to the Galleria. You wonder where the boys were. (There was a gaping hole in the roof that day you found the note, anyway.) The last thing you knew they were working on was an incident happening at a Manhattan High Rise in the Upper East Side, and about some Sumerian God named Gozer.

Luckily, they were back and hailed as heroes the next day. Of course, the work tripled, and the more testing and paperwork had to be done over the next few nights (with Janine now giving you an extra hand with all the chaos going on. You did help out with answering the phone too, after that Gozer incident.)

You never touched that black trunk again. But there was something in Dr. Spengler’s eyes when he saw you waiting at Hook and Ladder when they got back from that Manhattan high rise. For a moment, you thought you would be able to brag that you were able to see Egon Spengler’s pearly whites on Graduation Day.

Speaking of Graduation Day, it was getting closer. The more you had to focus on your culminating project, the more you started to miss appointments with the boys in Hook and Ladder 8. At one point, you felt bad talking on the payphone with Ray, telling him to find another analyst for the meantime as you had to focus on finishing your thesis.

“You mean to come back right, Y/N?” Ray sounded worried on the phone. It made you feel bad. “Someone’s gonna be upset if you can’t finish the numbers on the Granada Residence case.”

You found yourself chuckling. “Venkman hates that case. He’ll be fine.”

Silence was found on the other side of the line. “I wasn’t talking about Venkman.” That was the first day you started thinking about it. About him.

Towards Christmas, you were slowly pulling out your things from the Ghostbusters Firehouse, but these were mostly things you can fit in a box. You were a transient contractor after all. You were on the curbside waiting for a taxi when a tall figure almost bumped into you, carrying a giant brown box.

“Y/N?” The deep voice made you turn around, and you find yourself looking up at Egon who found himself staring at the brown paper box. “Y-You’re leaving?”

You smirked at him. “Didn’t Ray tell you, Dr. Spengler?” To your surprise, he only slowly nodded.

However, it was your turn to stare at the box in his arms. “Wait a minute--” you exclaimed. “Did you have the coffee maker fixed?”

Egon shrugged. That coffee maker has been broken ever since that incident with the containment unit. Luckily, you weren’t in that day the EPA stormed Hook and Ladder 8, but you were there when the repairs were being made. You had to work through a leaking ceiling and without coffee for days on end. You did get coffee from the deli around the corner, and you were kind enough to buy the boys their own cups of coffee during those days after the Manhattan High Rise incident.

“Yes,” there was some sort of glee in Egon’s voice. “And I’ve got a new bag of Arabica beans with a wonderful roast that I know you’re fond of--” He finds himself rambling amidst another taxi passing you by. “I was wondering if you’d like to have a cup of coffee with--” he clears his throat. “Us, before you go.”

It was weird. It was awkward. But it was Spengler. It was what made him Spengler. It suddenly felt something refreshing, almost rejuvenating.

“I can’t,” you wrinkled your nose at him as you looked at the nth taxi that passed you by. “I’ve got this report to present at the University.” 

Trying to ignore that crestfallen air forming about the man, you quickly muttered, “I will be back Christmas Eve though! I still have some more things to pick up.”

The “oh” that escaped Egon felt like a breath of fresh air. “On Christmas Eve?--”

You nodded. “I’ll be there,” you murmured as you tried flagging the yellow taxi that ignored you again. Fucking New York taxis. “Walker will be helping me carry the rest of the papers--”

You saw him blink behind those thick specs. “Walker?” Egon’s flat tone was returning. “The Guy from the Galleria?”

You shrugged at him. “Yeah, the classmate--” you corrected him. 

“Huh.”

You turned around to find him walking towards the Firehouse doors, his face obscured from you once more. “Let’s hope he doesn’t like coffee,” were the last words you heard from him before the door closed.

It was Christmas Eve. And that was the racket that Pete was making the library about. 

“Don’t be so silly Spengy--” he was exclaiming as he flopped on the chair beside the bespectacled, disgruntled scientist. “Those boxes will be out before midnight and you’ll never get to bug that girl about the mitochondria count on the plasmic sensor--”

“Venkman,” Egon said sternly.

“So what if Galleria Boy is there with her? What if he’s just there to hold her papers?” Venkman muttered while eating Spengler’s unfinished bar of chocolate to further aggravate him. “You fixed that coffee maker for what? A couple of dollars and not even one cup brewed--”

There was something that made Spengler look at the library’s Grandfather clock which was almost thirty minutes to twelve, causing him to grab all the books on the table and leave Venkman alone on his chair, who was starting to get the stink-eye from the library admin.

“Finally!” Venkman boomed before being swapped on the shoulder by the elderly librarian.

But now, it was already twelve. He got there a few minutes to Christmas and the Hook and Ladder 8 remained empty. He must have been too late.

Egon Spengler walked over to Janine’s empty reception desk and slumped on a guest chair in front of it, still hugging his suitcase. He almost kicked himself by not making it obvious. Venkman hated it whenever Egon took his comforter from his cabinet and draped it over you whenever you were sleeping. It became a habit for him to leave a small treat on your table whenever you left or weren’t looking, and he found joy when you looked around wondering from who it came from, before opening it and putting it in your mouth. He decided one day to have the coffee maker repaired after he saw you exhaustedly asking him if he wanted some too before you trudged miserably towards the deli. 

It was the small things. He frowned wondering if he shouldn’t have tried to hide it, and maybe for once you’d be smiling at him -- not at Venkman who made those stupid jokes, not at Ray who enthusiastically supported your ideas, not that Walker kid he had no idea about and probably slept in his class a long time ago. Him, who thought about leaving his spores and fungi collection to you in case Gozer got him and the guys.

Leaning back against the chair and sighing, Egon peered in the dark and tried to gain some resolve about the situation. I guess she’ll never know. I guess it’s best she doesn’t know.

That was when the Hook and Ladder door burst open.

Spengler was too consumed in his thoughts to recognize the small steps that wandered in, only coming to his senses when that person opened the lamp on Janine’s desk.

“Dr. Spengs???” You exclaimed, staring at the Ghostbuster whose glasses were misting with the cold. Or was it? “You’re still here?”

He stared at you, wondering if he was just imagining things.

“Didn’t expect to see you here -- on Christmas even -- all alone,” you said unbelievably, shaking your head at him.

“But--” he started, setting his suitcase down to fix his glasses. He couldn’t believe it was you. “But I thought--”

You placed a hand on your waist and sighed. “I was here,” you answered the question he couldn’t finish forming in his mouth. “I almost cleaned the place if I wasn’t your contractor,” you laughed, brandishing the firehouse key at him. “All those journals on ghost formations--”

“Any self-serving thief would go for the proton packs--”

You shook your head at him. “Eh, I’m a researcher--” you laughed. “I’d be going after your journals.”

Was that a shadow of a smile on his face or was it just your imagination? Is this really happening?

“And that Walker guy--” he started slowly, brown eyes slowly appraising your figure in front of him.

You shrugged. “Went home to celebrate Christmas with his family. Left me alone running after the journal I left--” You picked it out of the mess that is Janine’s papers. “Here.”

A cold breeze came through the door. Suddenly, for Egon, it really felt like Christmas.

“So, will you stay and have coffee with me?”

You couldn’t believe it.

You are definitely going to brag to your batchmates that Dr. Egon Spengler had the brightest smile you had ever seen.

#ghostbusters #egon spengler #egon spengler x ofc #egon spengler x you #egon spengler fics #egon spengler x y/n

[heavyartillery]

Heavy Artillery Holiday Exchange 2023

It's that time of year again, y'all! We're gearing up for the Heavy Artillery Holiday Exchange 2023. If you've never participated before, I encourage you to check out the info post, which you can find linked at the top of our Tumblr page or read over on Dreamwidth.

Here's the projected schedule:

November 5, 2023: Tag set nominations open. November 10, 2023: Tag set nominations close. November 11, 2023: Sign-ups open at 8AM Eastern Time (UTC-4). (Link will be provided in a separate post on November 11th.) November 18, 2023: Sign-ups close at midnight Eastern Time (UTC-4). November 20, 2023: Assignments go out. (The extra day is to make sure we have time to adjust if anyone comes up as unmatchable.) December 1-3, 2023: Check in #1/writing weekend. December 15-17, 2023: Check in #2/writing weekend; default deadline. December 22, 2023: Fic due by 8PM Eastern Time (UTC-4). December 24, 2023: Collection goes live. December 27, 2023: Author reveals.

Please feel free to share this post to spread awareness! If you have any comments, questions, or concerns, you can contact your friendly neighborhood moderator @thrillingdetectivetales here on Tumblr, via Dreamwidth DM, or via Discord.

#heavy artillery fandom community #heavy artillery holiday exchange 2023 #hahe 2023 #heavy artillery

[retro-memo]

For the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange and @iron-mum! I hope you enjoy this fic and I wish you a Merry Christmas!

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Tony Stark, Peter Parker, May Parker (Spider-Man), Happy Hogan, Dummy (Iron Man movies), You (Iron Man movies), Friday (Marvel), Karen (Spider-Man: Homecoming), Pepper Potts, Other Character Tags to Be Added

Warnings: Swearing

Ao3 link

"H'y Kar'n." Peter paused, taking a moment to swallow the bite he'd taken out of his sandwich. "Can you crank up the heat a little? It's getting chilly up here."

"Of course, Peter." Not even seconds later after she said that, there was a low sizzling and Peter leaned back into the suspended hammock he'd strung up earlier, basking in the warmth.

It was times like this when he really appreciated Mr. Stark's suit. Especially now that it was the middle of December and temperatures were way colder than they had any right to be.

Peter was pretty sure if he had been wearing his old suit — and no it wasn't a onesie. Stop calling it that, Mr. Stark — he would've probably gone from Spider-Man, and this was in May's words, to 'Spider-Popsicle'.

Which was something Peter found a little ridiculous since it hasn't even started snowing yet.

He would've been fine.

Well, he wouldn't have gone into a coma like last year when he was waiting for Mr. Stark to fix his usual suit after the wiring got damaged in the fire and he was stuck with his old one. 

Maybe. 

Peter groaned and threw his arm over his eyes, cursing his stupid spider DNA. Why couldn't he just have gotten the cool powers without basically having snow as his kryptonite?

Was that too much to ask of the universe?

"Peter, there's a police report of a bank robbery two blocks down from us."

"Wait, really?" Peter perked up at that and lifted his arm; all thoughts on spiders and the overprotective adults in his life flying out of the window.

"Yes, there are reports of six armed individuals holding several hostages in the building." Karen paused. "They appear to be possessing extraterrestrial firearms."

"Wait, extraterrestrial?" Peter froze, his outstretched wrist hovering mid-air from where he aimed it. "As in alien?"

"It appears so." That was the last thing that Peter expected to hear today. Especially since Toomes had been in jail for the better half of this last year. It couldn't have been him that sold these.

So it wasn't him, that meant it had to be someone else that sold these weapons…

"Should I contact Tony Stark?"

Peter blinked. "Uh, no. No." He shook his head. "You don't need to do that, Karen. I'll be fine."

At this point, he'd gotten very much used to Karen suggesting to call Mr. Stark. He had a sneaking suspicion that she'd been programmed to do that but decided to not question it. It was nice to know help was there if he needed it.

"Are you sure, Peter?"

"Yeah, besides what's the worst that could happen?" Peter paused only for a moment. "Hey Karen, do you think Mr. Stark would like an early Christmas gift?"

"While I can't speak personally, I believe he'd appreciate it. May I ask why?"

Peter grinned. "Send Mr. Stark a message that I'll be swinging by to drop off a present."

Tony had been having a pretty good morning if he had to say so himself. 

For once, he actually got in a full night of sleep. And no; he didn't mean his usual two hour power catnap that came with ditching the other five in the lab way. 

This time, he clocked in all seven hours and was energized in a way that he hadn't felt since forever.

Hell, even the cheese burgers and coffee he had ordered had tasted better than it had in ages. It felt as if nothing could ruin this day. Not even one of those dreary meetings that Pepper had set up for him seemed to dampen his mood. 

That was until he got a message from Peter. 

Tony didn't want to think the worst of the kid.

But goddamn, Peter made it hard. The newly-sprouted grey hairs on his head - that certainly weren't there before the kid practically bulldozed into his life like a bull in a China shop - were enough evidence of that.

So when he got the notification from the kid's suit about Peter dropping off a 'present', all sorts of possibilities immediately started whirling through his mind.

With the kid involved, that 'present' could range from a 'minor' stab wound to being shot or even impaled.

Tony tried not to think about those 'worst-case' scenarios as he glanced at the workshop's window. It was the one of kid's favorite spots to crawl through when he popped in for lab days after patrol.

The kid had to be fine. If he wasn't, Tony would've already known from the suit which was programmed to send out an automatic distress signal if something had gone wrong.

This time around, he'd even made sure to put extra encryption so that the heart-attack-inducing kid wouldn't be able to hack into it again with his grubby fingers.

Unless the kid somehow managed to bypass the codes again and was bleeding out somewhere without Tony knowing. Too far away to call for any help.

Alone. Cold. Hurt and -

"Hey, Mr. Stark!"

"Holy shit!" Tony jumped, the soldering iron that he'd been holding clattering onto the metal table below as he whirled around to where the offending voice had come from.

"No, just me." The kid's head popped through the window, and even through the window, and even with the damn mask on, Tony could practically see the grin from where he was standing

The little shit.

"Oh, hey, kid." Tony crossed his arms, watching Peter as he crawled through the window. The kid seemed fine, his movements didn't seem jerky, there wasn't any visible blood that he could see and -

"What the fuck is that?" Tony knew what it was. He recognized it as soon as the kid landed on his feet and turned to face him but still.

"Uh." The kid shrugged as if the glowing alien weapon wrapped up in his arms wasn't a big deal. It was comically picture perfect to the whole damn turtle fiasco from a few months ago. "Merry Christmas?"

"Where the hell did you get that thing?"

"I found it on patrol." The kid answered like it explained everything and Tony stared. 

So much for a good morning. 

"What are we going to do with it?"

"We're not going to do anything." Tony leveled a glare with Peter. "I'm going to take this Happy and have him deal with it the way he wants to and you're going up to your room."

He should've known that with Peter, it wasn't going to ever be that easy.

"Why do I have to go to my room?" The kid looked awkward but determined as jutted his chin up and shifted on his feet the same way he always did when he didn't agree with Tony. 

In a way, it reminded Tony of May whenever they would get into an argument. Which didn't happen a lot even after finding out about Peter's alter-ego. 

"I didn't even get hurt this time and technically, I got the weapons here. Finder's keepers."

Kids these days and their damn loopholes.

Tony scowled. "One, because I said so and two, I know for a fact that you have one of those fancy language quizzes tomorrow. May called me earlier to make sure that you study for it if you swung by."

"Wait, you talk to my aunt?"

"Just give me the weapon."

"But—"

"No." Tony shook his head. "Kid, I value my life. I'm not going to risk it with your scary aunt."

Tony wasn't exaggerating there. May was terrifying in her own right. He'd been there to witness how May transformed from Peter’s usual sweet aunt into a pissed off mother bear who’d tear his head off if it meant protecting her cub. 

He wasn't going to go through it again. 

"Please?" Goddammit. The kid was on the verge of pulling out the big guns; those damn puppy eyes that made even the coldest of men melt into a warm puddle of goo. Tony knew if he didn't get this finished quick, it was going to be game over. 

"Come on, Pete." He was on the verge of begging the kid to throw him a bone. A small chance. He could feel himself crumbling, just as he had with the turtle. "Just hand it over. I promise later after you've finished studying, we can blow up some other stuff here in the lab."

The kid didn't miss a beat. "Can we work on it for five minutes, please?"

And there they were. Those puppy-dog eyes that not even Tony on one of his best days he could say no to.

His mouth dried as he stared at the kid, who was clutching the weapon against his chest. Like it was a stuffed animal rather than something capable of massive destruction.

He groaned, throwing his hands up, finally waving the white flag of defeat. "Fine! But if your aunt asks, say that you were doing boring non-dangerous shit."

The kid grinned, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as if he didn't con Tony into risking his life on the line. "Thanks, Mr. Stark! You're the best!"

"Uh-huh." Tony waved Peter off. "You better remember that next time when you're grounded."

The kid giggled and Tony rolled his eyes as he turned back to the table and picked up the soldering iron that he'd dropped before.

He faced the kid again, gesturing to the table behind him. "Okay, gently, place here. We don't want to accidentally blow that thing up. For all that we could know, just sneezing the wrong way could make it go off."

Tony took a small step back, making room for the kid but keeping an eye on the weapon as Peter moved past him.

Once it was on the table and he was satisfied that it didn't look like it was going to blow up anytime soon, he felt the tension in his shoulders loosen. 

"Alright." Tony tore his eyes from the weapon. It was fine. Nothing bad had happened. They were fine. Peter was fine. "Alright, I'm going to get a few tools."

He paused, giving Peter a pointed stare. "Do not touch that thing while I'm gone."

"Yeah, mom." The kid snarked back. "I'll be fine, don't worry. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Famous last words," Tony grumbled under his breath, stalking away and passing Dum-E on the way. He pointed a stern finger at the bot, who had for the past hour been trying to find the screwdriver that Tony 'lost', and asked the bot to find. "Don't let the kid get into any trouble, you hear? If he does, I'll be donating your parts to MIT."

The bot whirled at that and Tony shook his head. However, he'd barely taken another step when it all happened at once.

He felt the blast of heat hit his back before even hearing it. He was blown forwards, his insides feeling as if they were ricocheting against his skeleton as he hit the ground.

And just like that, as quickly as it had started, it was over.

Everything was silent as Tony pushed himself up, having been blown forward hard enough to have lost his balance in chaos.

It was quiet. Way too quiet. Even straining past his ringing ears, Tony couldn't hear anything. All he could hear was his thundering heart beating against his chest.

Oh God. Peter.

"Kid!"

Tony scrambled to his feet, whirling around to where the kid was, his heart in his throat at the cloud of smoke covering the whole lab.

"Pete!" He ran, a million possibilities running through his head. Distantly, he heard the lab sprinklers turn on but paid little to no attention to them. "Buddy, you there?"

He didn't get any reply and Tony was almost scared as he came to a stop where the kid should've been. Where he left him with that damn weapon. He should've known better, shouldn't have turned his back and now Peter was -

That was when Tony heard it. The smallest of coughes but it was enough to jumpstart his heart faster than a V8 roaring to life, but something stopped him from running forward.

Terror gripped Tony so that he stayed rooted in place as it overwhelmed him. Fearing that he'd just heard the kid's final breathes. 

"Kid?" Tony took a hesitant step forward, almost too scared to peer through the smoke and - 

He blinked once. Twice. And then a few more times because there wasn't the burnt-to-a-crisp corpse or pile of ash that he'd conjured up from the darkest depths of his worst fears. 

No, no, no. It wasn't that but rather, there was a baby.

A baby, who barely reached to Tony's knee and was waist deep in the Spider-Man suit with hair soaking wet from the sprinklers. It was rubbing its eyes, letting out the smallest of coughs and whinning, its little chest heaving with the action.

Tony stared. He was a genius. He could put two and two, together. Heck, he could do even more than that.

That didn't stop him from freaking the fuck out. 

This had to be some sick part of his imagination or he'd finally gone crazy from the blast hitting the back of his head too hard. Because there was no way that this was possible. 

Still, Tony swallowed and opened his mouth. "Kid?" 

If it wasn't possible for Tony's heart to beat faster than it had before, it certainly was now. The baby tensed at Tony's voice, its head turning up to him, blinking up at him with those oh-so-familiar brown eyes. "Mr. St'k?"

It was muffled, choppy, and barely coherent but it was enough. The final nail in the coffin. It confirmed everything. Any sliver of hope that Tony had that the baby in the middle of his lab wasn't who he thought it was, vanished with that single word.

"Oh God." Tony stumbled back, gripping onto the table nearest to him to stop his legs from giving out from under him.

He stared at the very small and fragile baby a few feet in front of him while his heart throbbed in his chest. It felt ready to jump out from his throat and throw itself out of the nearest emergency exit. 

"Shit, Pete." Tony closed his eyes and shook his head, letting out a small giddy laugh that felt as if it quaked his heart with it. "You're a baby."

And May is going to kill me. 

#irondad and spiderson #Exchange Gift Fic #peter parker #tony stark #irondad #spiderson #ao3

[sunwarmed-ash]

🤗

11, 14, 43, 59

(Oh! Asking about your favorite position - how naughty of me 😳😆)

😈🥵😏😏😏

11. Do you write scenes in order or do you jump around?

A little of both! But mostly jump around. Usually the rest of the details of the story works its way out that way too!

14. Whats your favorite location and position to sit in when you write?

Position to write in?!?! Are there other positions other than sitting?! Hahahaha I sit cross legged in a crooked ass desk chair\set up in my basement hahahaha but I really enjoy writing in an all windows room during a rainstorm 😍😍😍😍

Now if we're talking about positions for other things..... Def from behind ✌

43. Trope or idea you want to write but haven't?

Lots haha but I really wanna write a good vampire fic, and probs a polycule a\b\o

59. Have you participated in any fic events?

Yes!! I did a couple of stony and starker gift exhanges and I think I did a harringrove one too, let me go check ao3

...

Alright I did three for the starker gift exchange

Pandoras box: bdsm club

Tony stark: billionaire, playboy, philanthaptist, daddy

and its sequel

Peter Parker: Student, friendly neighborhood spiderman, Daddy's boy

I also did a Harringrove gift exchange

Kitten-modern day au, bdsm, dif first meeting

A thorki secret santa

merry christmas my sun

And a stony secret santa

Restrain me

#find me on ao3 #sunwarmed ash #max answers #ash answers #thanks for the asks!!!! #stony #thorki #harringrove #starker

[aceofwhump]

Most wonderful Ace!

Ive recently binged my way through 9-1-1 Lone Star (in no small part encouraged by the whumpy goodness I’ve seen on tumblr) and I have become OBSESSED with Tarlos. Every time TK calls Carlos “baby” I swoon a little bit.

Now I’m not usually one for fan fiction. My trifecta of ADD, auditory fixation, and hypophantasia means that reading takes tremendous focus and I can’t visualize the scene most of the time anyway….but I NEED some content where TK is playing caretaker to Carlos in some way.

Maybe Carlos cuts his hand cooking - “Babe I think you’re gonna need stitches”

Maybe Carlos slips on some stairs and sprains his ankle - “Ok babe, I’m gonna have to take your boot off. You ready?”

Maybe Carlos dislocates his shoulder somehow and TK has to pop it back - “I’m sorry baby, this is gonna hurt”

Do you know of any content like that? Or could you point me in the direction of someone who could write it? Thanks so much!!! And thank you for your wonderful blog that I may or may not be constantly stalking!

Hi there! Ya know what I do have a few recs for you! Also those situations you're looking for are so good and i love them.

Ice Cream Makes Everything Better by FrizzleNox Summary: TK treats Carlos after a minor injury

what if we tried to learn each other better by Introvertedfangirl Summary: breaking news: ur local friendly neighborhood queer girl posts a 1.5k fic at almost 11 pm at night but is denying all claims to ehr mental instability 😗 ANYWAY Excerpt: “Baby if you want to sit here with me until the sun rises that’s fine. You wanna scream? That’s ok too. You want to cry (which I think you need to) that’s ok too. But I’m here. I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere." It’s that last part that broke Carlos and his head fell forward as he finally cried, and it’s such a relief—like a heavy thing is being lifted off of his whole being. “Ok, ok, ok. I'm here love,” TK said gently as he guided Carlos’s head to settle against his shoulder. Tightening his arms around his boyfriend, he held him until he was too exhausted to do anything else but fall asleep in TK’s arms.

From surviving to thriving by Road1985 Summary: Carlos was returning home after being discharged from the hospital. The kidnapping had turned out to be the biggest scare of everyone's life. The ice accident suddenly seemed silly to TK, because nothing was comparable to doing CPR on your fiancé and feeling his life slipping through his fingers. Carlos wasn't well and this time, he wasn't hiding it well, because he couldn't.

Let me be your shoulder by happygowriting Summary: Carlos struggles to let TK help.

hold me in my toughest moments by Alis__fa Summary: Carlos has a panic attack after being kidnapped. TK is there to help him and support him through it.

breathe life back into me by boneswrites Summary: Chasing a suspect on foot wasn’t new to Carlos, neither was exchanging fire with said suspect. But nothing is as it seems in the aftermath of the fire fight. Hurt Carlos Reyes: ABC’s | G is for Gunshot

and all the ways i'd keep you safe by hoodieweather Summary: New Message from TK Strand: On my way home. You have ten minutes to get back in bed and tell me you’ve been there the entire time. Carlos, who was in the kitchen, groaned after looking at the message from his new phone, one that hadn’t been destroyed with a meat tenderizer by a serial killer. He was fine. Just a concussion, some bruised ribs, and some aftereffects of morphine overdose. He didn’t need to be on bedrest. Okay, so maybe it was a severe concussion with a small brain contusion. And maybe he was still being monitored for any aftereffects from a morphine overdose and subsequent cardiac arrest. Bad Things Happen Bingo: Confined to Bed Rest

#mod replies #ask #mod's fic recs #fanfics #fic recs #carlos reyes #911 lone star #i haven't read a lot of carlos whump fics #hope these are okay! #i enjoyed them

[spicler-man]

to be a bit of warmth for you by oriocookie for Call_Me_Coley

Peter keeps sticking to his loved ones whenever he gets nervous. It's becoming a problem.

OR

well, okay, maybe it's not a 5+1 anymore. but it started out that way and it's the thought that counts. it's now basically "5 times Peter stuck to his loved ones and 1 time he didn't do that because it would have been very bad for his health and general well-being"

here’s the brand new fic for the one and only @call-me-coley, courtesy of @friendly-neighborhood-exchange!!!!

enjoy! im so damn proud of it!

#irondad #Iron Man #irondad fics #Irondad and Spiderson #spiderson #spider-man #spider son #spiderson fics #peter parker #peter parker fics #tony stark #tony stark fics

[imyoursavinggrace]

✨Irondad Fic Exchange 2023✨

For the wonderful @littlemissagrafina for the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange ❤️

Summary: “What the hell is that?” Tony demanded.

“Uh, a dog?”

Tony raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “I can see that. You got a dog?”

“Um, not exactly,” Peter stuttered, shifting on the spot. “You got a dog.”

"I'm sorry, what?"

Or: Peter starts bringing stray animals home, much to Tony and Mays horror, but luckily Tony always has a way to help his Spider-Baby.

#ao3 feed #fanfic #peter parker #tony stark #irondad #spiderson #iron dad #spider son #iron dad and spider son #ao3fic #Spider-Man #friendly neighbourhood exchange

[sdottkrames]

You Are Loved More Than You Know

🎄🎁 to @marvelousbutterfly for the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

My dear new friend, this was a joy to write! I loved looking through your blog and reading your fics. Thank you for sharing your stories with us. I hope you enjoy my take on your prompts! SORRY this is so late posting here! I’ve been out with family. Again, I hope you enjoy 💜

Prompts: Tony having a medical issue (something with his heart or anything else really) and Peter worrying about him, and outside POV of Tony and Peter's father-son relationship.

***

“What the f-“

May Parker’s curse was cut off by her nephew, standing in his room wearing a spiderman suit. He whirled around, his eyes wide and panicked.

“May? This is not what it looks like.”

“Oh really? Well, what’s it supposed to look like then? Cause it looks like you’re the spider guy posting videos on YouTube.”

May had seen the videos and her heart had stopped when she’d seen the crazy things Spider-Man got up to. She’d tried to figure out how he was doing them, if the stunts were real or fake. But then she met some of the people he’d saved, people he’d dropped off at the hospital to make sure they were alright, and they had assured her he was real.

“So maybe it is what it looks like,” Peter said, his eyes roaming anywhere but to May’s.

Oh my gosh, my nephew is spider man.

May surged forward, and threw her arms around him in a fierce hug.

“Um…okay? Can’t say that this is how I imagined this going.” The teen’s voice was muffled by her shoulder as he snuggled closer, hugging her back.

Tears pricked May’s eyes as she thought about her nephew risking life and limb to save innocent people. She pulled back to look over him, hands carding through his hair, caressing his cheek, sliding down his arms, her expert touch ready to find any injury.

“May, really, I’m fine! No injuries, I promise. Besides, I heal fast,” Peter protested.

Assured that there was nothing amiss and no crisis to deal with, her hands, so gentle just minutes before, slapped the back of his head in a way that was anything but.

“Ow! May!”

“Peter Benjamin Parker! You mean to tell me that you’ve been parading around New York, fighting bad guys all on your own? Risking your life to save people and getting hurt-” Her voice rose with her emotion as she kept talking, swelling until it swept her away in a current of worry and panic and confusion that cut her voice off.

Peter gently pulled her back into a hug. “Come sit down, I’ll tell you everything.”

And he did. From the ill fated trip to Oscorp, his strange new powers, meeting Tony Stark, the disaster of homecoming (though May would later find out that he edited that particular escapade quite liberally).

“And then Mr. Stark invited me to be an avenger, but I told him I just want to help the little guys! You know, stay close by and handle small problems. I’m not ready to be an avenger, but it meant a lot to me that he thought I could, you know. Like, my mind is still spinning a little that Tony Stark thought I could be an avenger. But I don’t know. I don’t really want to deal with the big scary problems….what?”

May wasn’t sure what emotion was showing on her face because she was feeling several hundred at the moment, but apparently it was enough to stop her nephew’s excited rambling.

“Did you say Tony Stark invited you to be an avenger?”

Peter’s cheeks pinked a little. “Um…yeah.”

“Is spider man what the whole Internship thing was about?”

“Yeah, I was just doing things on my own before, in my own homemade suit, and he gave me a whole upgraded suit to keep me safe.”

May blinked. “Yeah, we’ll address the fact that you were stopping cars in sweatsuits in a minute, but Tony Stark knew about this?”

Peter’s eyebrows pinched together. “Yeah?”

“I’m going to need his number.”

The confused look was gone and pure panic took its place. “No, May, please. Don’t be mad at him. I told him you didn’t know and forced him to keep it secret, it’s not his fault.”

May forced her voice to remain calm and even despite the tornado of fury swirling inside. “I’m not mad. I just want to talk to him about how the suit works and how he’s keeping you safe.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed. “Promise?”

“Yep, I just want to make sure you are safe, sweetheart.”

“Okay.” So Peter gave her Tony’s number and they spent a long while after that, talking through things and setting ground rules for May’s sanity. May had immediately wanted to put a stop to her nephew being in danger, but she knew just as quickly that it would be a moot point. He was good to his very core, that boy, and if she tried to stop him, he would just be in danger without her knowing. So they agreed to honesty.

Well, honesty in everything except this, she amended as she checked to make sure Peter was asleep before calling Tony’s number.

“Hello?” a voice said on the other line.

“Hi, Tony Stark? This is May Parker, Peter’s Aunt?”

“Oh, yes, hi. Is everything okay?” to his credit, Tony actually sounded genuinely worried.

“Yeah. Yeah, Peter’s fine, he’s safe and sound. But we need to talk.”

Continue reading on AO3: here

[emma-elsa-0000]

My fic for the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange!!! My giftee was @retro-memo! I hope you enjoy!

[piedpiperslists]

KSJ: Neighbors AU

List of all Seokjin fics under 'Neighbors' AU:

* s - contains smut

* Last updated: 26/11/2023

D R A B B L E S

Baby Sitter by 7waystreet s single dad!Seokjin Summary: Seokjin's your friendly neighbor who needs a baby sitter for his kid on short notice, leaving you with no idea on how good he’ll be paying you back for your services.

* New Year’s Kiss by seoulnotes Summary: Jin and Y/N are neighbors and spend a New Year’s Eve evening together and kinda share a New Year’s kiss.

Stuck with You by myimaginesandrp Summary: When the run-down elevator in your building breaks down, you find yourself trapped inside with your cute neighbor Seokjin.

What Made Us Feel Human by joonsgalaxy Summary: Came up to your apartment to ask you to turn down your music and have quieter sex, but it turns out that you’ve just been jumping up and down on your bed in your underwear listening to music alone.

O N E S H O T S

A Bonding Experience by fortunexkookie s wc~2.6k / PWP Summary: The last thing you expected to find when you investigated a muffled call for help was your polite, mild-mannered neighbor, Kim Seokjin, in such a compromising position.

A Date with Destiny by sahmfanficbts s wc~14.8k / superheroes au Summary: You are asked to save the city of Destiny with Jin from a bomb threat. The fireworks will explode. The question is… when?

A Lullaby on Canvas by jincherie s wc~15k / siren au Summary: Your neighbour, as far as you knew, was mute. You weren’t sure what exactly had happened, but you figured that perhaps it contributed to the stunning works he created with paints and clay. You were curious, and that curiosity led you to grow closer – but perhaps, in growing closer and getting to know him, you were getting a little in over your head.

Cheap Seats by alpacaparkaseok wc~3.5k Summary: “I pay half your cable bill. You wouldn’t survive without me.”

Christmas Warfare by gimmethatagustd s wc~14.5k / exes to lovers Summary: You will win the neighborhood’s “Best Christmas Decorations” contest and rub it in your ex-boyfriend’s face, by any means necessary. Or Jin will win your heart back, even if it means surrendering his crown as King of Christmas Decorations.

Footnote: Better Together by bubmyg wc~10.9k Summary: The tale of semi friendly notes exchanged passive aggressively between a pair of neighbors until they’re no longer threatening to blackmail one with voice memos of the other singing Justin Bieber in the shower or the one where you’re alone in your apartment complex and holiday activities are done better together.

Golden Boy by kpopfanfictrash s wc~9.2k Summary: The golden boy of the porn industry, prettier than half his female co-stars. Will sue if you pull his hair. Always bothering his neighbors with pizza delivery.

How to Win at Christmas in 7 Easy Steps by btsmosphere wc~2.6k Summary: How to win at Christmas… and maybe meet someone along the way. The story of how Jin ended up crawling through your hedge dressed as santa on Christmas eve. And how you were totally not heading to his house for the very same reason.

I Waited for You by untaemedqueen s wc~11k / childhood friends to lovers, werewolf au Summary: You were moving back to your parents house after they passed away, your next door neighbor Jin couldn’t live there anymore, could he?

If Just for Rain by yoondoze wc~2.1k Summary: The scorching heat of summer is exhausting, but it makes the rain so much sweeter.

In the Dog House by btsrunmylife s wc~4.6k Summary: You truly, truly hate your neighbor. He’s loud, distracting, and he spoils your dog. What will happen when you finally confront him???

Just Say Goodnight and Go by vanaera wc~4.2k / college au Summary: The spirit of Christmas is yet to be felt as a blackout on a chilly December night becomes the icing on the cake of your horribly shitty day. You just really want to sleep tonight but your neighbor seems to have lost his mind again when he comes knocking on your door to demand for an uncalled sleepover. Said neighbor is Kim Seokjin, the famed crush of the university, and no, he’s not your friend. He’s most definitely not your crush and he’s absolutely not the reason why warmth invades your chest when it’s not even summer

Like This? by jeongi s wc~3.3k / PWP Summary: Your neighbour, Seokjin, teaches you exactly how he likes to be touched.

The Way to Your Heart by seokth wc~4.4k Summary: After an unexpected pregnancy, your heart is cautious and weary. After a quarter-life crisis, his heart is lost and searching. Will a plate full of hotteok and a blossoming friendship be enough for him to worm his way into yours?

Three’s Perfect by ragingcravings s wc~4.4k / ft JHS, FWB, idol au, PWP Summary: All she has to do is give them a look and they know exactly what she needs.

What a Racquet [AO3] by reliablemitten wc~3k Summary: You write a note to the anonymous piano player in your building.

Winter Solace by floralseokjin s wc~27k / strangers to lovers Summary: After a difficult few months (and years), a fresh start in a new city is both equal parts thrilling and terrifying, but you’re determined to make it work. It’s just you and your dog-sized cat Nox, ready to take on the world. Of course along the way there are ups, and there are downs. The main down being you’re short on cash after the big move, unable to spend Christmas with your family. The main up is your kind and thoughtful neighbour who offers to celebrate the holiday with you, despite not being a fan of it himself.

#ksj list #seokjin fic

[hanleiacelebration]

Assignments are out!

We've received your wish lists, your prompts (seriously, we had some amazing prompts that made the mods want to write multiple new stories), your generous offers. We employed our best matching magic and possibly also the Force, and found what we hope will be a great match for each of our participants. And now through the power of AO3, you should have received your assignment for the exchange!

So what do you do now?

Check your AO3 email inbox for your assignment. Assignments went out on December 10 around 10:30 pm Eastern US time via AO3, to the email address you use for your AO3 account. (Be sure to check junk or bulk mail boxes if it didn't land in your inbox.) You can also log onto AO3 and find your assignment in your dashboard under "Assignments." If for some reason you did not receive your assignment, please contact one of the mods.

Make sure you're Tumblr-ready for the exchange. Make sure the Tumblr used in your sign-up is set up to receive anonymous messages, and that you check that Tumblr regularly (at least every couple of days) during the exchange to respond to messages from your writer or from the mods, as this will be the primary way folks will get in touch with you about exchange business. Plus, it can be a fun way to share the excitement with other participants!

Say hello (secretly!!) to your giftee. Within the next couple of days, send an anonymous message to your recipient's Tumblr askbox to say hello. This is a great opportunity to ask your giftee questions about their preferences or prompts, to bounce story ideas off of them, or just to greet them and say that you're excited to be working on their gift. And by no means do you have to limit yourself to one message -- a little back-and-forth with your giftee can build excitement and help you with your story. If your giftee's Tumblr does not allow anonymous messaging, please contact the mods and we'll remind them to turn that feature on.

Have fun writing! Mods will be checking in with folks the week of December 26 (halfway point, -ish) to see how things are going, but don't feel like you need to wait until then to ask questions or ask for help. Need a beta reader, a cheerleader, or someone to help you bounce around story ideas? Hit us up! Have a problem or a question? Let us know!

Submit your fic via AO3 once it's ready. You'll go to your AO3 account, find "Assignments," go to "2022 HanLeia Holiday Exchange" and hit "Fulfill". Then follow the instructions and AO3 will do the rest!

As always, your friendly neighborhood mods are here to help. You can send an ask to our inbox here at the blog, or contact one of us directly -- @lajulie24, @otterandterrier, or @hanorganaas.

Happy writing!

#mod post #hanleiaholidayexchange2022