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#slow burn
foundfamily4eva · 38 minutes ago
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a big part of the appeal of Dean/Cas is that they're absolute idiots when it comes to each other i mean if it weren't for the rampant misunderstandings and miscommunication setting the weave of twelve years of narrative plus their own low self-esteem acting like blinders to the truth around them they would've confessed their love years ago! but while that may be a nice thought it also means we wouldn't have been gifted the Slowest Burn To Ever Slow so y'know
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vinnie2757 · an hour ago
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I'm not usually one for planning out fics but I'm actually really enjoying having the plot vaguely outlined for this one BC it gives me so much breathing room to build ideas now I know what each chapter is going to contain
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nashibirne · an hour ago
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Where The Wild Roses Grow - An August Walker Story - 2
You can find part 1 on my masterlist
Pairing: August Walker x OFC (Fern)
Summary: Don't screw the crew? This doesn't work for August Walker
Warnings: Smut, Sex, 18+, NSFW, unprotected sex, oral sex (f and m receiving), kinda soft August
Unbeta'ed! English is not my mother tongue, so please be lenient with me
Disclaimer: I don't own August Walker (but he owns me...)
Pics for the header taken from Pinterest.
Taglist: (let me know if you want to be added or removed)
@lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes @willkatfanfromasia @hell1129-blog @mis-lil-red @agniavateira @kebabgirl67 @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @summersong69 @taebfada @xxxkatxo @madbaddic7ed @artandotherdelights
~~~~
Fern
"Morning, Fern." August and Peter greet me in unison on this Thursday morning before they go straight to Pete's office where a potential client's already waiting for them. 
I've always hated my name. It's so old fashioned and boring, it's a name for an old spinster, not for a woman my age. I would use my second name if it wasn't even worse. Prudence. I mean, come on...you have to admit that's dreadful. But if you'd known my parents you wouldn't be surprised.
When I was born my mother was already 45 years old, my father even 49. After 20 years of trying in vain they'd given up on hoping for a child but then my mum got pregnant with me. They were very religious, god-fearing people and when they finally held me in their arms it was a miracle, a blessing, God's gift to them and they always treated me accordingly, like a precious treasure they had to hide from the bad world outside. They loved me dearly but this love was so overpowering it almost stifled me. I never went to school, my mum home-schooled me, which was okay, I didn't miss anything but then again, you can't miss something you don't know I guess.
I was a shy child and so in some way I was glad that I didn't have to interact with other kids. I only had one good friend. Her name was Kayla and she and her parents lived next door. Her family couldn't have been more different from mine, her dad was a dentist, mine was a carpenter, her mum was a teacher, mine was a housewife, she had three older brothers, I was an only child, their house was bright and modern, always open for everyone, ours was a dark victorian building, very cosy and beautifully furnished but with a forbidding appearance on the outside, so besides Kayla we hardly ever had any visitors and my parents liked it that way.
When I went to college it was really hard for them and one hell of a fright for me. I went through a culture shock and it was quite the ride but luckily I had Kayla by my side. She could have gone to better colleges but she decided we'd go to Virginia together to visit the William & Mary. We had a great time there and I had a lot to catch up on and that's what I did. Parties, alcohol, sex...it was a whole new world for me but thanks to Kayla I didn't get lost, she made me find a balance between celebrating and studying and I will always be grateful for her patience with me. She's still my best friend, my only friend actually and we're in close contact although she's a district attorney in Texas now and I'm in London.
But I don't want to bore you with my past. I guess you want to know more about my life here and now. Well, it's not that interesting either. As I said I hardly do anything more than work, eat and sleep but I've started to take piano lessons and I really like it. It goes better than I had expected, my teacher is a very friendly elderly woman called Mary. Boooo….still boring, you say? We'll there's something about those lessons that's not so boring. I...oh wait, there comes August. Gotta get back to work.
"We did it, Fern." A big, smug grin appears on his handsome face. "They signed the contract. We're gonna celebrate this, when Pete's back."
"Congratulations. That's a big deal."
"It is. A real big fish. If they recommend us in their line of business other deals are gonna follow, this could be our final break-through."
"Does this mean I get a salary rise?" I ask with a smirk.
"Sure. The three of us worked very hard for this. You will have your fair share. " 
"What?" I ask with a seductive smile. "Just like that? No negotiations?"
August pulls me close with a mischievous grin. "You want to negotiate, pretty?" He whispers in my ear, sliding his hands under my skirt.
"I'd love to. Where did Pete go and how long will he be gone?" I wrap my arms around his neck.
"I told him to get some champagne and oysters."
"I hate oysters." I pout.
"Forget the oysters, we have 20 minutes." 
He hooks his thumbs into the sides of my silken panties and pulls them down slowly so I can step out of them. He tries to lift me up but I wriggle out of his hands.
"Let me reward you for your success and earn my salary rise properly." I give him a sexy smile and drop to my knees. August raises his eyebrows and nods in approval.
"Yeah, use that pretty mouth of yours."
I open his fly and get out his half-hard dick. After a few strokes he's fully erect and his size and girth never seize to amaze me. August Walker has the most beautiful cock I've ever seen. Just looking at it makes me wet and my pussy throb. I start to lick the tip slowly, teasing him and I love the way he moans and grabs me by my hair to make me take him in my mouth. I obey and wrap my lips around his shaft, popping my head up and down. I suck him off like I know he loves it, taking him as deep as possible. His breath goes short now and he's gasping and panting, his head leaning against the wall, his eyes are closed. I know he's not gonna cum, he never comes first, always makes sure to satisfy me before he reaches his high and so I'm not surprised when he suddenly pulls out and gets on his knees too.
He kisses me, which is unusual but he seems to love to taste himself on my tongue. He makes me lay down on my back and then he fucks me missionary style. He doesn't do it often, he prefers doggy or railing me pressed against a wall but when he does it's fantastic. He fucks me deep and slow, rolling his hips in a smooth rhythm and I look him right in his ocean blue eyes. He hits my g-spot with every thrust and he makes me cum within minutes. After I'm done with my orgasm he sits back on his heels. "Now finish what you've started." He growls and I continue sucking him off eagerly. Now I'm the one who tastes herself on him. He grabs my hair, holds my head in place and mouthfucks me hard but not too deep. He respects my boundaries and I don't like deep throat, I tried it, but it's not my thing and he knows that. "Fuck...Fern…" He cries out my name when he comes in my mouth and I swallow every drop of his spunk, I even lick his dick clean and I know he loves the sight of me kneeling in front of him, my tongue running over his tip and shaft. He lets out a long sigh before he gets up and stuffs his dick back into his pants. With a grin he grabs my panties and throws them at me. I catch them laughing.
"You're really the best boss a woman can wish for." I give him a smirk and he chuckles. "You can stop buttering me up. You've already earned your reward."
"I'm not doing this for the money." I wiggle my eyebrows and wink at him before I go to the bathroom to freshen up.
August
Wow, this was one of the best fucks in a while. I love it when she sucks my dick. Seeing her mouth stuffed with my thick cock is such an enormous turn-on for me. She takes me so well, her lips feel so tight around my shaft and her kitten-like tongue teasing me is just the best. Only thing better is fucking her ass but that doesn't happen too often. It requires time that we usually don't have and she has to be in the right mood for a hot round of butt sex. Sorry if I sound like a sex maniac but to be honest there's not much more in my life besides fucking and working and a few hours of sleep at night. It's just Walker & Brooks SecTec and Fern. That's what my life circles around and it's good the way it is. Honest work and casual sex, a good combination if you ask me.
When Peter is back we have a glass of champagne and some oysters. Fern enjoys some sushi Pete bought for her because he somehow knew she hates oysters. We're all in a great mood and we decide that we finish work for the day and just have a good time and a nice chat before we go home.
I take another oyster and make a little show of lapping up the meat from the shell, using more tongue than necessary. I give Fern a lewd smile and she bites her lip in a way that makes my dick twitch. Pete just smirks, raises his glass and speaks a toast. "Here's to the future. May it be successful and may it make us fucking millionaires." He giggles quite girlish, he's already drunk after just three glasses. I guess he usually doesn't drink anything but energy drinks and coffee.
"Cheers." Fern beams all over her face and I repeat her words. "Cheers."
I glance at her. Her cheeks are rosy and her eyes sparkle, she looks so sexy right now I want her again. I know it's just been an hour that I filled her with my cum but I just can't stop thinking about eating her out. I place my hand on her thigh and start stroking it under the table. She doesn't react but I know she likes it. When I let my fingers wander higher she gets up with a jolt. "Excuse me. I'll be right back." She leaves the room and I manage to wait 60 seconds before I excuse myself too. Peter rolls his eyes, knowing exactly what I'm up to but he doesn't say a word. I go straight to the ladies room where Fern is washing her hands. She's surprised to see me and before she can say a word I crash my lips on hers, kissing her feverishly. I lift her up and put her down on the edge of the sink before I get down on my knees.
"August, what are you doing, Peter's waiting for us…"
"Forget Peter, I wanna lick your pussy."
And that's what I do, I pull her panties aside and run my tongue through her wet folds slowly before I start kissing, licking and sucking her clit.
Fern stifles an aroused moan and whispers my name softly.
"God, August...we shouldn't be doing this…"
"Want me to stop?" I look up at her with a devilish grin.
"God, no…"
And so I continue to eat her out, to enjoy her smell, the taste of her flowing juices, the sound of her moans and the little shriek when she comes for the second time today. She's shaking and my dick is throbbing in my pants. 
I get up and she looks at me with a fake-annoyed frown. "Boss, you're gonna be the death of me. Two times a day? Really?"
"It's the oysters." I grin. "They're known for being an aphrodisiac."
"What about you." She touches my boner that's visible in my pants.
"Don't worry. When I get home I'm gonna jerk off in the shower thinking of you. Of your sexy tits, your hot ass and your tight pussy."
She hits me on my arm. "You're such an idiot. Let's get back and try to pretend nothing's happened." She laughs light-heartedly and I love the sound of it.
"You go first. I follow in two minutes. Have to wait for my boner to soften."
Five minutes later we're back with Peter in the middle of a conversation about how well everything's going at the moment. Peter mentions that he's planning to buy a Porsche soon and Fern makes him promise to take her on a ride. 
"I'm gonna order it as soon as the money from the museum is on our account." He smiles in anticipation. We have updated their security system a week ago and are expecting the incoming payment every day.
"Oh, speaking of the museum. They send you those free tickets for the Caravaggio exhibition. You're not planning to go, are you?"
"No." Peter and me say in unison. We're both not very much into art. "Do you wanna go? You can have my ticket of course." I say to Fern with a generous look on my face.
"Yeah, thanks. Actually I need both tickets."
"Both? For you and who? A suitor?" Peter asks in a teasing tone, giving her a wink.
Fern blushes a little and I wonder what's going on, she never blushes.
"Well...yeah. Something like that. I'm going on a date on Saturday."
I can't believe my ears. Did she really say she has a date? Just like this? A fucking date? I try to pull myself together and not to show my surprise but I feel the tiny frown that appears between my raised eyebrows though the rest of my face remains blank.
"A date?" I try to sound as casual as possible.
"Yeah, you may have heard of it. Two people meet and go out together to get to know each other better." Fern chuckles.
"I know what a date is." I snap.
Fern rolls her eyes. "Fine."
Peter eventually asks the question that's running around on my mind but won't come out of my mouth. "And who's the lucky guy?"
"His name is Lucas."
"Where did you meet him?" I have my face and my voice under control again.
"Oh, he takes piano lessons too but with a different teacher. We met waiting for our lessons and so we got into conversation and last week he asked me out."
"Sounds good, take my ticket and have some fun with a decent lad." Pete says, giving me a quick glance. I know he doesn't think it's a good idea that I fuck Fern, he thinks I'm going to hurt her but I don't care. It's none of his business.
"Yeah. Enjoy your date." I nod but the mood's ruined and after another fifteen minutes we decide to call it a day and go home.
~~~~
tbc
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storiesofsvu · an hour ago
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Cautious Masterlist
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Olivia Benson x fem!reader Warnings: language, minor mentions of physical/emotional abuse, mainly in the past. Slow burn/mutual pining.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
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Day 31 - shelter as we go
Author : fondleeds
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Summary : 
Louis looks at him like his words might break him, glass about to splinter, one wrong footfall away from shattering into a million tiny pieces.
“Hey,” Harry breathes, and he knows, meeting Louis’ eyes, that his words could break him easy as anything. He almost wants Louis to bring his boot down.
-
AU. Nova Scotia, 1968.
Warnings : Implied/Refrenced Homophobia, Implied/Refrenced Suicide, Grief/Mourning, Minor Character Death
On ao3 : shelter as we go
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crispyjenkins · 5 hours ago
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Rex winces, looking away. While Kenobi isn’t... wrong, Rex doesn’t think he can view him as a soldier, even after learning all of this. “Sir...” He inhales slowly. “With all due respect, you were not made for war.” “Wasn’t I?” The sincerity in the softness of those simple words says more than Kenobi’s file ever could. “Were any of us?” “I suppose it does depend on how one views the vod’e,” Kenobi agrees softly, swinging his leg. “But perhaps... not war, Rex.”
the last two weeks have sucked ass and i thought i'd finish this to feel better, but i'm at 14,500 words now and still have to get through the zygerria arc, and i'm a writer so i need constant validation
so y'all get the first chapter of maybe six? we'll see how long it takes for them to actually kiss
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jamestrmtx · 5 hours ago
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Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]
[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]
Chapter Sixteen | Dummy! (Part 3 of 3)
[First] | [Previous] | [Next]
Dinner is about as awkward as waving back at someone you think's waving at you, only to then realize they're actually waving at someone else.
Frisk stares at your guest from beginning to end, only looking back to their bowl when they’re done with it. They grab a piece of bread and soak up what little soup remains at the bottom and say, “You’re not a bad cook", after. They take a bite off the bread; the rest of it disappears in three more. “Is this ren's way of testing whether you'll be a good boyfriend or not?”
Sans swallows hard and coughs once to recover as he sets his spoon down. “Well, uh… Somethin’ like that, I guess.” He casts a subtle glance at you, his gaze asking for help.
“We’re not dating,” you intervene. You take some soup, but end up throwing it back in the bowl when your hand shakes, too tense to continue eating. “You and Jerry just so happened to walk in at the wrong moment, making it look like something else.”
Frisk frowns, and a dull expression reaches their eyes. “I can tell you’re lying, ren. You’re bad at it.” Their gaze moves back towards Sans, who’s now finished with his bowl and trying to move away from the conversation. “What about you, then? Why’re you chickening out if you still wanna date (Y/N)?” They furrow their eyebrows and glare at the monster. “Why are you-“
“That’s enough, honey.” You stand up and face down at them. “This isn’t his fau-“
“So then, it’s yours?” Their voice breaks as they're the one to rise next; their hands thump over the table and their frown quivers as they attempt not to show any weakness. “He… He flirted with you, so that means he’s also responsible for it!”
“I said that’s enough, Frisk (L/N),” you snap, crossing your arms. “I’m okay with talking about this with you, but not during dinner. And even less when we have a guest over.” You plan to pick up the dishes, though the skeleton beats you to it, excusing himself off to the kitchen. “I’m not dating him, and that's final. That only happened ‘cause we kind of like each other. But I refuse to date anyone until you’re all grown up.”
“You’ll be old by then,” they whine, flailing their arms. “Grandparents can’t date!”
“Yes, they can.” You go along with the ridiculousness of the conversation, too caught up in it to fully assess their words. “And ten more years won’t make me a grandparent! I’m still young.”
Frisk huffs and switches for sign language, saying, “That still doesn’t mean you have to live like this.” They grimace, eyes wetting as they sniffle once. “I like seeing you happy… But right now, this just makes me feel like I'm bothering you.”
Your anger falls with that last sentence; panic replaces it.
In a haste, you try approaching their side, though they run off to their room just as you’re ready to bring them in for a hug. Their steps are quick and the door shuts with a subtle bang, their composure still showing through. You stay in place as their words replay on your mind over and over, gloom arriving. Dismissing them is an impossible feat; your mind continues to subject your thoughts into negativity, restraining you from acting quickly.
If you’d been doing a poor job at raising them this whole time, then what had been the point of it all?
Needing a distraction, you head to the kitchen and join Sans by the sink, no words spoken between you.
He washes the dishes while you dry and store them away, keeping up a rhythmic pace until only the pot’s left. Your gaze focuses on his arms, jacket’s sleeves lifted all the way up to his elbows, revealing the oddity of who you were growing attracted to. His shirt's a bit loose by the neck, presenting you with his collarbones as you spare a peek under it. You're still adapting to the strangeness of having someone look so similar to a human skeleton, yet so different all the same. He could breathe, laugh, move, talk... and even kiss based on first-hand experience. His skull wasn't entirely solid, allowing him to blink, eat, and drink -- besides from what you were thinking of whenever you stared at his face and down at his teeth. You tell yourself it’s wrong to be befriending him, and even worse finding any attraction in him. You’re not sure how to interpret his words from earlier ago, and just what it meant to see him break down like he had.
He’d revealed he disliked who he used to be, but did he remember having said it?
From your experience, moments like those were hard to keep clear.
“Do you… remember what you said to me, Sans?”
His hands stop what they’re doing, one grabbing the knob -- ready to open the faucet -- and the other holding the pot, now coated in suds. He looks up at you, saying, “I cried, didn’t I? Don’t really remember word-for-word, but I know I meant what I said.”
You take a breather before responding with, “Even the part about hating who you used to be?”
Sans turns the knob, letting water pour down. “Yeah.” He nods, heaving out a sigh. “The more I look back and reflect on who I used to be, the more I understand why you don’t trust me.” The pot’s close to overflowing, though he doesn’t notice. You step in and place your hand over his, closing the faucet. Unaddressed tension remains as you stare down at his hand, yet you refuse to let it show, repelled by the idea of taking advantage of his vulnerability. You don’t want to engage in anything like your stay at the hotel again until you sorted out your mind and its jumble of thoughts, nor do you wish to romanticize his self-hatred by fulfilling your wants. “...I, uh, I get it now. And I promise I’ll stop flirtin' now that I know it.”
The monster pulls his hand away and takes the pot with both, emptying the soapy water down the drain. He does it little by little, preventing a flood in the sink. “Did Jerry say something about this?” you ask, taking the pot when he gives it to you. You hang the current towel and take a dryer, cleaner one from the rack. Then, you continue, finishing with the job. “He looked at you weird.”
He chuckles and meets with your eyes. “Maybe ‘cause I was all over you for a second there?”
You glare at him, lips doing the opposite by tugging into a grin, one you try to fight back. “Cut the sarcasm.” You jab his waist, smile growing. “You know what I mean."
“Let him think what he wants to think. I knew you before I knew him, and you guys haven’t been together for years. You’re your own person, and so’s him. If he doesn’t want to keep being friends, then that’s fine with me.”
You glance over to the time on the wall clock, seeing it’s already seven. With the frequent rain, the monster was forced to store his motorcycle away while it cleared out some more, and -- to make up for it -- his brother was now the one to either lend him his car, or take him where he needed to be. In short, letting him go back home would mean calling Papyrus two hours right before his sleep schedule. Either that, or it was sending Sans all alone off to the nearest bus stop.
You settle on neither, saying, "Want to stay over? It's late, and I've got a guest bedroom you can use."
He snickers and replies with, "Worried 'bout me?" When he notices, his grin falls, and he quickly makes up for it by adding, "Sorry. Doing that's pretty much a reflex now."
You smile and swat his shoulder, keeping your hand there. "...I don't really mind you flirting that way. I like it better than when you're straight-up obvious about it."
"Like the Mx. Serif thing?"
"Exactly." You shift on your feet, remembering one of his older comments. "That, and the ones you used to make about my... appearance."
"So you want me to be less invasive," he says, nodding. "Got it." He tries not to look down, a slight tense present in his grin. "I apologize if I ever made ya uncomfortable. I'm surprised you didn't just whack me over the head back then. Feels like I deserved it sometimes."
"Violence is not the answer." You pause, face regaining seriousness. "...Unless you cross borders you shouldn't be crossing."
"Kinda like what happened on the couch today?"
"No." You feel your throat ache the longer you talk with him, still too awkward to relax around him. "...I wanted it back then."
Sans washes his hands and gives you space to do the same. Then, he brings his sleeves down and waits until you're done washing up to accompany you to the living room. "Touch-starved?" he jokes, though you're far from taking it that way.
Seven years.
Not that you were completely, utterly desperate for a relationship, but good company was still good company. You could still use the warmth of someone else, even if it was purely platonic or familiar -- like a tight hug, or just someone else to have around the house. Wanting to depend less on Jerry's support and more on your own funds, you proposed to yourself working extra hours for as long as it was necessary. The rest of your day was either used up in chores or in spending more time with Frisk. It's only now that the monsters help you out with your child and their growth that you have additional time to do stuff like this.
"...Yes," you reply, looking away. "But that can wait."
You excuse yourself and head over to the fridge, needing some water to cure the sudden soreness to your throat; that, and you didn't really want to keep tangling yourself up in that mess.
When you've just about drank more than half a gallon, you stop and take in a deep breath, bringing yourself back to calm.
Regardless of what Frisk and Sans himself had said about living for yourself every so often, you had your set of goals already planned out. Speed-running through a relationship wasn't one, and even less considering the subject's past. You needed to know him and his intentions better before throwing yourself into it -- more than usual.
Two years of pointless arguments between you and Jerry had been enough to last you a lifetime; one of them was even more than pointless, considering you divorced by your first year. You never understood the point of submitting a child to the sight of continuous arguments if you could just find a way to stop becoming involved in what was causing that. You didn't want Frisk to feel like the root of all your problems, nor did you wish to make them feel as if they had to redeem themselves for something that wasn't even their fault to begin with. It was difficult to comprehend the thought-process behind calling out how many finances were spent on them, unless they were being a spoiled brat about it. Guilting them over the good things they had and belittling their troubles through constant comparison wasn't what you wanted, either.
But did it all have to be done by you limiting your own life and enjoyments?
Sans's advice and Frisk's words get to you, these you try to brush off for the moment being.
Fixing your situation with the monsters was more important than that.
"Ren?" a familiar voice calls out, stopping your speeding train of thought. "Is Sans staying over tonight?"
Your body freezes up, face doing the opposite.
Out of all the people you could’ve chosen to be attracted to, it had to be a person whose existence you were barely aware of until a few months ago, who you would've sworn was a contradiction to science as you knew it, and whose flirting techniques were about as low quality as a school lunch's ‘pizza’ Friday. “Yes,” you say, drinking another glass. You’ve already drank more than enough, but stress makes you want more. “It would be rude to send him home with how late it is.”
“You just want him to stay longer, don’t you?”
“That’s none of your concern, dear.”
You serve them a glass of milk, kiss their cheek, and shoo them off to bed, slumping against the fridge when they’re gone. The sound of the television being turned on follows when their footsteps grow faint, and you can hear them exchange a few words with the skeleton, though none of these you can get to understand clearly, standing so far away. “That’s their favourite movie!” is the only sentence you can decipher from them, words exclaimed. “Have fun!” They run off, footsteps echoing down the hallway.
Finally left with Sans again, you return to the living room to see him resting on the same side you’d been pinned to on the couch. You try not to remember, yet your mind proves to be cruel as it reminds you over the subtle warmth of his hands, the scent of your soap on him, and him being so close to take initiative by being the one to almost kiss you on the lips. You’d been the one to do that the first time you kissed him on the cheek back at Mettaton's hotel, though you tell yourself it was nothing special. It was mostly the heat of the moment that had caused you both to take it easy, after all. Today was an entirely different story. Compared to your approach, his was a much more complex and slow building one, waiting for you to better process his intentions and reciprocate his actions with far more sincerity compared to your stay at the hotel.
In short, you wanted to kiss him, but for real this time.
“You doin' okay?” Sans asks, seeing you arrive; he scoots further away, a simple gesture for you to sit down and join him.
“I’m... I'm okay,” you reply, nodding. “But are you really gonna watch that?” You point with your eyes at the television, your favourite movie still playing. “It’s a little lame.”
“Don’t lie.” He grins and hangs an arm behind the couch again when you settle next to him. “I’m pretty sure the kid said it’s your favourite.”
“Out of that particular genre, yes.” You stare at the screen, displaying a scene not too fitting for your situation, yet not completely out of touch either. It gives space for you to talk with him, no awkward romance scenes happening at the moment, and no loud, action-packed scenarios occurring either. Without a word, you move closer to him, letting his arm wrap around your shoulders as he brings you nearer, face resting against his chest. “Have you watched it before?”
“Today’s my first,” he says, hand lowering to your waist. He does nothing else, giving space for you to cozy up next to him the way you best deemed fit. “Feelin’ better now? You can stay for s’long as ya need.”
Aware the monster's referencing your no short of embarrassing confession from before, you shift to a straighter position, meet his irises, and glare up at him. Rather than throwing a remark back at the skeleton, you figure it’s now best to kill him with kindness. You take his cheekbone, smile, and stroke his face, smiling to better accomplish your payback.
When he looks at you -- far too earnest and warm for your liking -- you flinch and have a sudden, unconscious change of plans.
“You’re enough, you know that?” you comment, words practically slipping from your mouth. “Maybe I don’t fully understand what happened at the Underground, but... But I'd say you’ve shown you care enough to improve things you don’t like about yourself. And you've also been pretty blunt and honest with me so far, so there’s that, too.” You kiss his cheekbone, ending on a note far more wholehearted than you originally intended your payback to be. “Try to remember that next time you start criticizing yourself like that again.”
[First] | [Previous] | [Next]
• • •
Hello!
Before getting into some important stuff, this was meant to be yesterday's update, but I didn't have my laptop available at the time, hence the delay! I was able to update on other sites, but here I use the "keep reading" feature, which can only be accessed through a computer. (As far as my knowledge of that goes, of course -- I'm still learning how to use Tumblr!)
Now, moving to the important stuff:
A few changes will be going underway soon, such as adding the chapter navigation at the bottom of each update from the Prologue to Chapter Ten. As I mentioned in a previous author note about how late I realized I was missing something necessary for clicking on the next chapter more easily: I'm a dumbass, lol.
Also, I've made the decision of creating separate fanfics for the 4 other characters tagged in this story, along with a poll to decide which one I should work with first (as it was shown at the end of Chapter Fifteen, we've finally reached the exposition part of this fanfic, meaning other relationships will be introduced soon)! The reason why is not only to avoid coming off as misleading for those who're looking for a fanfic of that specific character only, but because rewriting this story led to it becoming much more slow burning, thus delaying the relationship development with plenty of characters. As a result, I'll modify the tags to all 16 chapters that've been published so far!
Hopefully, all those changes will be finished by next Friday. :-)
As always, take care and stay safe!
• • •
Tag List (Comment or message me if you want to be added to [or removed from] it!)
@the-simp-express
@nektotersh
@disastrous-l0vebug
@therealchickenjoe
@mintyflakes025
@pandaquick
@timelock97
@candle-creeps
@paperb9gs
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chicgeekgirl89 · 6 hours ago
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Puzzles and Limes and Family Times
Fandom: 911 Lone Star
Characters: T.K. Strand, Carlos Reyes
Summary: Parenting kids is tough. Growing up and parenting your parents is even harder. Luckily T.K. and Carlos have each other to help figure things out. A post-ep for 2x11 "Slow Burn." Thanks to @bluenet13 for the help with the spicy food stuff and for inspiring what will likely be a prequel. And for just generally always being a supportive friend! 
                                   XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
“How about a book?” Carlos asked.
T.K. shook his head. “He has books. I want something different. Something that will really distract him.”
“I still think a couple DVD’s might do the trick,” Carlos told him. 
“He has every streaming service known to man. If he can’t find it on one of those, it’s probably not worth watching.”
“T.K. as nice as it is that you want to get your dad a gift for his surgery, maybe we should think about it a little more since you don’t seem to know what you want.”
They’d circled the aisles of Target more than once, T.K. turning down every one of Carlos’ suggestions. “I just want something that’s going to keep him busy,” T.K. said. “He’s terrible at sitting still. I’m afraid if we don’t do something he’ll try and run a half marathon three days after surgery and kill himself.”
“Babe I don’t think there’s anything in the world that’s going to keep your dad recovering the way you want,” Carlos said. “He’s kind of a strong willed guy.”
T.K. sighed and turned the cart into the next aisle. “I know. I know, I just have to at least try.” He paused and grabbed a box off the nearest shelf. “What about this?”
Carlos raised his eyebrows. “A puzzle? Your dad doesn’t strike me as someone with the patience for puzzles.”
“Exactly. Maybe this will help him learn some. And,” T.K. tapped the box for emphasis, “this one has dogs playing poker on it. He loves dogs and poker.”
“That is true,” Carlos said, keeping his tone even and his expression neutral.
T.K. shot him a look of fond exasperation. “I know you’re humoring me but I’m going to pretend that was genuine.”
“And now you can humor me by picking out new towels,” Carlos said with a grin.
T.K. groaned. “I thought we already picked new towels.”
“We picked new master bath towels. We need some to match the guest bath.” Carlos grabbed his hand, towing him along toward the home goods aisles. 
“I didn’t realize you were going to use my moving in as an excuse to redecorate the entire condo,” T.K. said.
“I want it to feel like our place.” Carlos stopped and picked up a washcloth. “How do we feel about cream?”
“I feel like towels are towels. Especially in the guest bath.”
Carlos rolled his eyes and moved further down the row. “We have guests coming next week. Everything needs to be perfect.”
“Speaking of which, are you sure you want to invite my dad to dinner with your parents?” T.K. asked as Carlos silently debated the merits of blue versus off-white towels. 
Carlos looked at him in surprise. “He’s your dad. Of course I want him there.”
“It’s just…he can be…a lot sometimes,” T.K. said. 
Carlos raised his eyebrows and T.K. held up a finger in warning. “If you say I’m also a lot sometimes I’m taking the keys and leaving you here to Uber home.”
His boyfriend smiled and turned back to the towels. “My parents want to meet him. And your dad is very charming.” He looked at T.K., eyes sparkling with mirth. “Just like you.”
Now it was T.K.’s turn to roll his eyes. 
“Besides,” Carlos said, dropping the blue towels into the cart, “having your dad there will take some of the attention off of me so my mom doesn’t tell every, single embarrassing story about my childhood. Instead your dad and my dad can try to one-up each other talking about crazy calls they’ve been on.”
T.K. wasn’t convinced yet. “He’s just really not been himself lately. And I have no idea what his mood is going to be like post-surgery. I don’t want him to leave a bad impression with your parents.”
“I’m sure it will be fine. Besides, it would be good for your dad to get out of the house. Be around family.”
T.K. sighed. “I guess at least if he’s with us I’ll know he’s safe. And it will give him something to do to keep his mind off how bored he is.”
“I thought that was what the puzzle was for,” Carlos said with a teasing grin as they walked toward the checkout.
T.K. sent him a withering look. “Just let me pretend it’s going to work and not sit on a shelf in the closet until the next time he has a garage sale. It makes me feel better.”
Carlos nudged him good-naturedly. “I will let you keep your delusion.” He stopped pushing the cart and leaned against the handle. “But it’s going to cost you.”
T.K. took a step closer and bit his lip. “Oh is it?” he asked, wondering exactly how randy Carlos was going to get in the kitchen appliance aisle. 
“Yep.” Carlos grinned. “We’re having camarones a la diabla for dinner tonight.”
T.K.’s face fell. “What? No! Come on I already looked at towels with you!”
Carlos just smiled and sauntered away with the cart, leaving T.K. alone in the middle of the aisle to hurry after him. “Okay but only a little spicy all right? Not ‘accidentally almost kill T.K. spicy’ like last time?”
“That was your own fault and you know it,” Carlos called back.
T.K. huffed. “That’s exactly why we don’t need a repeat!”
Carlos stopped and let him catch up. “If we’re going to live together we have to build up your tolerance to heat. Don’t worry,” he said, patting T.K.’s cheek, “I’ll be gentle.”
T.K. eyed him warily. “Nice try Reyes. I know behind that smile is a conniving, spice loving, diabolical monster.”
“What if I promise you homemade ice cream for dessert?”
“What because I’m a five-year-old and can be bribed to eat my dinner?” T.K. asked.
Carlos cocked his head and raised his eyebrows.
“Fine,” T.K. said grudgingly. “But I want chocolate.”
“Then chocolate it is.”
                                XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
T.K. had never seen his boyfriend panicked before. Upset yes, excited for sure, but the most emotionally intense his mild mannered boyfriend typically got was moderately annoyed. Tonight however, he seemed like he might actually be about to lose his shit. And as intrigued as T.K. was to see where that might lead, a little voice in his head reminded him that Carlos losing his shit five minutes before his parents were due to arrive was probably not going to leave a favorable impression.
“Where are the tortilla chips?” Carlos asked, his voice sharp and pitched a note or two higher than usual. “I thought you picked them up on your way home today.”
“Right here,” T.K. said smoothly, opening the cupboard and pulling out the bag of homemade chips he’d purchased from a favorite restaurant down the street.
“And you told them to make the guacamole fresh right?”
“Yes, I stood there for fifteen minutes while the guy went out and hand picked the avocados,” T.K. said, trying not to let too much amusement color his tone.
Over the last few days the tension in their home seemed to have changed direction. As T.K. had grown more comfortable with the idea of his dad coming for dinner, (despite the one minor, running into a burning building incident that T.K. was trying not to think about) Carlos had gotten increasingly tense. 
The condo, always in a state of near perfect cleanliness now sparkled like something out of a magazine. And the list of instructions Carlos had left for T.K. to complete after his shift had been so detailed and exact that T.K. wondered if he’d stayed up all night writing it. Personally he thought that doing a deep clean of the refrigerator and painting over scuffs on the baseboards was a little bit of overkill, but he’d done as asked. Now, as he watched his boyfriend dart from one side of the kitchen to the other in a slightly manic state, he was wondering if he might need to intervene. 
Carlos pushed past him to take the perfectly made guacamole out and put it in a bowl. “Did you put a clean hand towel in the bathroom? The blue one?”
“Blue? I thought you said black.”
Carlos froze and glowered at him. “I’m kidding,” T.K. said, holding up his hands in a pacifying gesture. “Blue towel is freshly laundered and in the bathroom. I’m not sure exactly how the color of a hand towel could ruin the evening but I certainly didn’t want to risk finding out.”
Carlos’ face dropped a bit, emotional exhaustion pulling at him. “I know I’m being crazy.”
“Oh I think we surpassed crazy about two hours ago when you were picking individual pieces of lint off the throw pillows,” T.K. said with an amused smile. “Relax. Tonight is going to be great. You’re making a damn soufflé. How could anyone not be impressed by that?”
“Maybe I should have gone with something more traditional,” Carlos said, running an agitated hand through his curls for the hundredth time that evening. “My parents are traditional people. But your dad is coming so I wanted to pull out all the stops.” He peered through the oven door at the soufflé. “Maybe I should have done the beef. I’m going to take it out just in case.”
“Carlos, Carlos whoa, hey,” T.K. stopped him by putting his hands on his shoulders. “The soufflé is going to be great. Everyone is going to love it. Do not take that beef out of the refrigerator.”
Carlos’ eyes widened. “Oh my god I forgot to put the ice trays in the freezer!”
“Whoa, hey, nope,” T.K. held on a little tighter and didn’t let him go. “You asked me to do that this morning. Let’s just go sit for a minute—“
“I need to—“
“What you need to do is take a few deep breaths and get yourself together,” T.K. told him, pushing him gently onto a bar stool.
“I just want it to be perfect.”
“Babe I know. But it’s not going to be. Nothing ever is, so you need to let got of that expectation. It will be a great dinner because everyone who’s coming loves you and wants you to be happy.”
Carlos slumped a bit, mussing his curls a little more with his hands. “I’m nervous.”
“I know. But I’m going to be right beside you the whole night. And nothing your parents say is going to make me upset. Or want to leave.” T.K. leaned a little closer as Carlos deliberately avoided making eye contact. “That’s what you’re really worried about right? Not that they’ll say something to make you upset, but that they might hurt me?”
Carlos chewed at the inside of his lip and covered T.K.’s hands with his own, twining their fingers together nervously. “They just might not be as careful with their words as I want them to be. Sometimes they speak without thinking. They have old biases, things from church and the family…”
T.K. brought one of Carlos’ hands up to his mouth and kissed his knuckles. “I know the difference between willful hate and accidental ignorance. I’m not worried.” He ran a hand through Carlos’ hair, fixing some of the damage he’d done to himself. “And nothing, not even rude parents or a fallen soufflé, would ever make me want to leave you.”
T.K. watched as some of the tension eased out of his shoulders. “I love you,” Carlos said quietly.
“I love you too,” T.K. said, squeezing his hand.
There was a knock on the door and Carlos sucked in a deep breath. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
T.K. leaned forward so their lips met in a sweet kiss. “Absolutely.”
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jilyarchive · 9 hours ago
I would like to recommend this fanfic that I read yesterday and really really liked. Its Part 1of a series. It is called - The Last Enemy: The Howling Nights
Sure - thanks for the rec!
Title: The Last Enemy: The Howling Nights Author: CH_Darling Rating: T Genre(s): Angst, Friendship, Romance Chapters: 55 Word Count: 208537 Summary: It’s 1975 and war is simmering beneath the surface of the Wizarding world...but at Hogwarts, it’s magic as usual as the fifth years prepare for their O.W.L.s amidst politics, pranks, and other poor choices. Severus Snape wants to prove his worth. Lily Evans wants a fresh start. James Potter wants Lily Evans, though no one is more surprised by this than him. Sirius Black wants to write himself a new story. Remus Lupin wants to survive the next moon. Peter Pettigrew just wants to keep up. But as tensions bubble over, sides will be chosen, friendships destroyed, families parted, and paths forever altered.
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Just added chapter 101 to the marching band AU. This is the eighth and final chapter of part 12. Friday Night and Saturday.
Chapter 1 (from the beginning) - https://archiveofourown.org/works/29409834/chapters/72250422
Chapter 101 (just added; part 12H) -https://archiveofourown.org/works/29409834/chapters/77053208
Title: And I’m in the bleachers
Chapters: 101/?
Words: 380,337 (so far)
Summary:  Victor Salazar is finishing his freshman year of high school in Graham, TX when his dad gets a new job that forces the family to move to the small town of Ephrata, PA. Thrilled with the idea of a fresh start and maybe the chance to finally figure himself out, Victor is excited; his younger sister, Pilar, a little less so. Both Salazar siblings join the high school marching band upon arrival and this is the story of the hijinks and drama that unfold thereafter.
In the words of a dear friend: It might just be Victor being an idiot and Benji being more of an idiot but what’s new?
Notes: This story will come to you in 25 parts; however each part will account for multiple chapters, so it’s going to be a lot more than 25 total chapters, but there are 25 main sections of the story. The relocation from Atlanta to PA is because this is now set in my hometown, because I have no clue how HS marching band works in GA. I decided to eliminate a few characters (most notably Adrian and Simon). The move occurs at the beginning of June 2019 instead of January 2020. The first part of the story will loosely follow the plot of Love, Victor Season 1, but definitely not exactly. This may or may not be the slowest burn to ever exist.
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speedstershippinq · 10 hours ago
Cisco: you have a crush on Lyell
Barry: what? No I don’t!
You, walking past: hey Cisco, hey Barry!
Barry: h-hey Lyell 😳
Cisco: *sighs*
—Nic
YES YES YES 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
barry is all, " everything's gonna be fine its just a crush! " and then replies " I love you " when I say hi to him
and cisco is TIRED ,,,
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rageyasha · 10 hours ago
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second chances for sinners
chapter 7 is a week earlier than usual and hey maybe that’s the new normal or maybe it’s just a one time thing, who knows, but enjoy the early update everyone :)
beau and yasha talk, get interrupted, talk some more, get interrupted some more. will our girls finally stop talking and just kiss?
ao3 link
fic playlist
this ko-fi thing im trying
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treacherousdemo · 12 hours ago
I love that we're united in our love for Zoya and Nik! 😭 Also, isn't roses/lotus/violet/iris such a Zoya song???
WAIT OH MY GOD. I HADN'T EVEN CONSIDERED THAT! "I myself was a wilted woman drowsy in a dark room forgot my roots now watch me bloom" is such a Zoya lyric. She went through so much but picked herself up again time and time again. The seperation of physical beauty and perssonality??? I will scream.
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han22black · 13 hours ago
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People when they read the 14th chapter of Hidden From Love | D.M
#1 - NEWWRITER (4/25/21 -5/5/21)
#170 - SPELLS (rn) out of 1.44k
#147 - POTIONS (rn) out of 1.5k
Wattpad: han22black
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rheawritessometimes · 13 hours ago
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A Night With Kaeya
Series Masterlist (Coming Soon)
Joining the Knights of Favonius is easier than anticipated, they didn't even do a proper background check. A Kaeya x Knight!Dendro!FM!Reader Slowburn Enemies to Reluctant Alliances to Friends to Pining Idiots to Lovers Series. Is the title a stupid pun based on a typo? Yes.
Part 1
{ The Insufferable Cavalry Captain } Joining the Knights of Favonius is easy, tolerating your senior knight is not. (Violence)
Part 2
{ Evening Patrol } Kaeya is so shady, how has no one else noticed?
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limpingpenguin · 13 hours ago
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Summary:
Snapshots from each month of the most eventful year of Zuko's life. (and then some)
or
Zuko thinks he's learnt more about himself in this year than he has in his 21 years of life. He's finally made friends (of his own, not his sister's). And he's finally seeking justice for all those years living under Ozai's thumb, even if it comes at the expense of betraying Uncle Iroh. And maybe this year he'll finally know what it means to love and be loved.
or
Zuko moves out from Iroh's to find himself living with the GAang while trying to go to university, hold down a job (or two), and press charges against his father. He winds up getting more than he bargained for when he ends up finding a new family all of his own.
Chapter 15:
A travesty is righted
Chapters are still going! My friends genuinely sat me down to watch classics I'd missed growing up, including the one mentioned in this chapter
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ereri-lost-and-found · 13 hours ago
Hello, do you happen to have any complete multichapter fics with no sex whatsoever? The themes can get as dark as they want but please no smut...
Thanks!
Try these, Anon~
Giving Up the Ghost by folaigh
(Rated T, 67,090 words, multichapter, complete, TW depression and major character death (Eren is a ghost))
Levi's apartment is haunted, but he can't bring himself to care. A story about depression, ghosts, and letting go.
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Brewing Love by morebeesthanyoucouldimagine
(Rated G, 25,395 words, multichapter, complete)
Levi has been struggling to keep his mother's tea store open for the last few years. When a handsome man re-opens the bakery next door, will Levi have a chance at financial stability and perhaps even romance?
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These Golden Hours by mybrainproblems
(Rated T, 57,309 words, multichapter, complete)
His parents are in Europe and his sister is in Japan; he's been left to his own devices for the summer with a house, a car and unrestricted access to a credit card.
Jean finds an ad for Rent-A-Gent and convinces Eren to hire a gent of their own. The first time was a dare, the second a redo, the third because a hurricane went through his living room (don't ask), the fourth... now he's crushing on a man more than twice his age who's making him question a lot of things about life, the universe and everything.
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The Usual by regular_john
(Rated T, 41,433 words, multichapter, complete)
Levi goes to the same café to sit and drink his coffee while he prepares for work every morning at 7am. He has a routine he sticks to in his head. He sits in his same spot, orders the same coffee, and normally does the same tasks before he has to go to work.
Eren has just started his first year at university and decides to pick up a coffee one morning before a lecture.
AKA slow build college cafe AU w/ fluff
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xampyre · 14 hours ago
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alright folks time for the official poll...
which setting should i do for my karl marx/friedrich engels crack fic (reply or reblog with the number of your vote)
1. modern day college au
2. time travelers au
3. try to make it match history when it comes to setting
also add a ^ if i should add mild smut for an extra layer of chaos (id put it in a separate chapter with a warning so yall can skip if u want dont worry) and add a % if you think i should keep it completely PG
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