Fanfiction Recs by KiterieAine

I'm Kiterie Aine (also previously known as Sumi Hatake). Most of the fanfic recs I give are going to be Kakashi x Iruka or Destiel all will be tagged.

[karijote]

[fixyourwritinghabits]

I reblogged one of these but this one is even better.

[fire-fira]

Here’s your reminder that the US doesn’t have an official language.

[theredscreech]

This is such a fascinating concept that writers can apply to their world-building.

[hogwartsconsultingtimelady]

This is also an interesting look at which immigrant groups settled where

[heywriters]

And where reservations are/were

[thecollectibles]

Art by YIN ZHE

[secondhandsentiment]

tumblr user @that-house may I ask you a few questions

[that-house]

What’s not clicking

[captainsblogsupplemental]

[rhube]

Data is the supportive friend everyone needs.

[akiragatr]

“I’m gonna text my ex.” Data:

[kiterieficrec]

This is literally my little sister in me. She is "I got back together with my ex... A few months ago. I know what you're gonna say but he got on his knees and begged and I believed him. Me "A few months ago? So he's back to the same old shitty behavior isn't he?" Her "Yes." Then she proceeds to tell me about his stupid ass bullshit.

[jackironsides]

ALLO. I AM HERE TO REQUEST A TREAT - for #19, animalistic instincts :3

(For this prompt event.)

Good lord, how did this fic get so out of control. Yours was the first prompt, and the first I started, and I did not expect it to get this long.

2,490 words. No particular warnings, I think. Also it's much softer than the first few paragraphs might suggest.

Instinctual

‘They’re not. He’s not,’ Jaskier said tiredly. ‘I’ve met a hundred men who are more monstrous than any witcher, and Geralt especially.’

He didn’t let himself think about the mountain. He wished he could still expect a rescue. He could forgive Geralt for the mountain if he broke him out of this cell.

‘You need to learn your lesson,’ hissed the witch.

Even Yennefer, he thought. He could deal with her little smirk and barbed remarks if he could get out of here.

The witch was making some complicated gesture with her hands, and he distantly thought that he should be worried. But he was tired, and filthy, and his wrists and shoulders ached from being dangled from these manacles.

But he didn’t care, because Geralt was coming. Everything would be all right now. He sighed in relief, and passed out.

*

‘Jaskier?’

He opened his eyes blearily. Geralt. Geralt was here.

‘Heyyy,’ he said. ‘You’re here.’

Geralt was bending over him. He was somewhere on the ground? It smelt of damp leaves. The important thing was he was no longer in that cell, with its smells of urine and both old and new blood.

He patted Geralt’s chest clumsily, then changed his mind and grabbed at Geralt’s shirt and pulled him closer so he could smell him, and be certain that he really was here, that it wasn’t just a dream.

His body didn’t quite seem to be behaving itself, so what he actually managed to do was faceplant into Geralt’s neck. Geralt smelt of himself, and although he’d not seen him for years, it was a smell that made him want to cry for its familiarity. He felt at home; he felt safe.

‘Jaskier,’ said Geralt. ‘Are you all right?’

Geralt’s hands roamed over his head – checking for a head wound, he realised. He didn’t think he’d hit his head, but he didn’t mind. This way he’d smell a little bit of Geralt, of home, instead of that horrible place.

‘’m fine,’ he murmured. Geralt should come closer, he thought vaguely. They should curl up together and go to sleep.

‘He’s all right?’

A soft feminine voice spoke from beyond Geralt. Jaskier opened his eyes and tried to see who it was around Geralt’s bulk.

‘He is,’ Geralt says. ‘He might need to rest, though. Can you look after him while I go hunting?’

‘I can,’ said the girl.

Geralt moved away. Jaskier couldn’t help the little whine that slipped out as his comforting warmth left. Geralt straightened up and crossed to his packs, revealing the clearing’s other figure. It was a blonde girl, looking anxious, in a dirty blue coat. Something about her face was familiar, and then he realised why that was.

‘Oh!’ he said. ‘You’re the princess. Cirilla.’

Cirilla made an uncomfortable noise and didn’t confirm it, but she didn’t immediately deny it, either, which was confirmation enough.

‘Jaskier’s safe,’ Geralt said. ‘He won’t tell.’

And that was more open affection that Jaskier ever expected from the man. He felt floored with surprise—or he would have, if he weren’t already on the ground, hah. Especially after—Especially after.

‘Do you have a name I should call you?’ Jaskier said gently.

‘Fiona,’ Cirilla said, her posture loosening and relaxing.

‘It’s lovely to meet you, Fiona,’ he said.

‘You too,’ she said.

‘I’ll be back soon,’ Geralt said, addressing Cirilla. ‘Keep an eye on him. Keep the fire burning.’

Cirilla nodded, and Geralt turned to go. Jaskier couldn’t help the noise of loss that escaped from his throat. Surprisingly, Geralt paused, and turned back.

‘I need to fetch us food,’ he said gently. ‘I’ll be back soon.’

Jaskier hunches back into himself, feeling a little ashamed. Of course Geralt needed to go. He’d be back soon enough.

Cirilla busied herself about the clearing, picking up likely looking twigs and putting them in a pile near the campfire. Soon enough, she’d gathered all of the likely looking sticks, and started to head further away.

‘Wait,’ he said. ‘Where are you going?’

‘Getting more sticks,’ she said.

‘I’ll come with you. Hang on.’ He started to struggle to his feet.

‘You don’t need to,’ Cirilla said, sounding irritated.

‘It’s not safe,’ he said. ‘You shouldn’t go off alone. I’ll come with you.’

As soon as he managed to stand. Apparently being thrown in a cell for ... awhile ... made standing up a trial. Still – there, he was on his feet. Take that, world.

Cirilla let out an annoyed breath, but she waited for him. They truly didn’t go far from camp, but he felt much happier knowing that she wasn’t alone. He even managed to pick up a few twigs of his own, even though bending was more work that it should be. He felt like old, dry leather that had lost its flexibility.

He tired far too quickly, too. Cirilla was kind enough to notice, and she didn’t make him beg for them to stop.

‘We’ve probably got enough,’ she said, looking at her amassed bundle of twigs. ‘Let’s go back.’

He gave a sigh of relief and agreed. He dropped back onto the laid out bedroll he’d woken on. It smelt of Geralt, he realised, and he turned his face into it to inhale that comforting scent.

He should make some kind of conversation with the princess while they waited for Geralt’s return, he thought vaguely. He used to be good at this. He just felt so exhausted it was hard to think.

Thankfully, before the silence could stretch on for too long, he heard Geralt returning. He pushed himself back up to sitting so he could listen properly.

‘You’re back,’ he said, his cheeks aching from grinning.

‘I am,’ Geralt said.

Geralt was smiling. Jaskier had never seen him smile so much in the past twenty years put together. Had finally claiming his child surprise changed him that much? Jaskier tried to remember what Geralt had been like before the banquet – his grumpiness hadn’t been made worse by denying Destiny’s claim, had it? Surely not.

Geralt walked past the bedroll on his way to the fire, even though it was a little out of his way, and ruffled Jaskier’s hair. Jaskier couldn’t help but preen at that, even as Geralt went and sat by Ciri with the squirrels he’d caught. He got out his small work knife, and she watched avidly as he showed her how to skin the small animal. He offered her the last squirrel, but she shook her head, looking squeamish. Geralt smiled again – he smiled! – and finished the last preparation of the meat. Jaskier couldn’t help but feel warmed through watching him look after Cirilla and teach her. No wonder he smiled so much now. Geralt had found someone to belong to.

Geralt strung the meat ready for roasting on the fire, and Cirilla copied him, her nimble fingers learning quickly. Geralt sat back, satisfied. Cirilla brushed her hands off, and stood up. She looked like she was heading away from the fire, Jaskier realised, with some alarm.

‘You shouldn’t wander off,’ Jaskier said, getting up.

‘I need to pee,’ Cirilla said. ‘I’m not doing it where you can see me.’

‘It’s not safe—’ Jaskier said. He meant for it to come out forthright and stern, but it sounded almost like a whine.

‘Jaskier, it’s all right,’ Geralt said, and he was far too calm. ‘She won’t go far, and I’ll hear if anything happens.’

‘If you’re sure,’ Jaskier said, hovering uncertainly.

‘I’m sure,’ Geralt said.

Cirilla looked from one of them to the other, then pointed a finger at Geralt. ‘You’re explaining when I get back.’

He hummed, and beckoned Jaskier over. ‘Come sit by me.’

Jaskier did, and he found the tightness in his chest was eased by feeling Geralt’s warmth pressed up against his own side.

Cirilla did, at least, reappear before too long, and came and sat back in her previous spot near Geralt. Geralt passed her some of the meat, then gave Jaskier his share.

‘All right,’ she said after wolfing down the first bite of her dinner. ‘Explain.’

‘He’s under some kind of spell,’ Geralt said, still far too calmly for Jaskier’s taste.

Jaskier scoffed. As though he needed some reason to be concerned about a young girl wandering off on her own. He now had plenty of personal evidence of why being alone was a terrible idea.

‘Is it ... Is he ... dangerous?’

‘No!’ Jaskier exclaimed. He was sure he’d know if he was dangerous. But then ... if Geralt was right and he was under a spell ... maybe he wouldn’t. That was a frightening thought.

‘No,’ said Geralt. ‘Just ... not quite himself.’

‘Who am I supposed to be, then?’ Jaskier demanded, not feeling at all comforted by that. Was the witch going to take control of him?

Geralt laughed. ‘Still yourself. Just with some ... urges you don’t normally have.’

‘... Urges?’ he echoed, feeling queasy.

‘What kind of urges?’ demanded Cirilla.

At least one of his new companions had sense, thought Jaskier. Good for her.

‘Nothing dire, I don’t think,’ Geralt said. ‘It reminds me of what our trainees were like, when they’d just passed through the trials.’

‘So ... running off to fight monsters?’ asked Cirilla. She eyed Jaskier. ‘I haven’t seen anything like that.’

‘No. These are a ... side effect of the mutagens. We had to learn to control them before we could continue our training, or we’d be useless. It made us ... bond with the rest of cohort, and with some of our teachers. We didn’t want to separate, which would make us useless when the Path requires us to go out on our own. They let us alone for the first month after the last trial, since we had to recover from that first, but after that we were all separated, to get us more used to it, and better able to function by ourselves. It was the first time any of us had slept on our own – we’d spent the last however many years sleeping in a dormitory together. I barely felt like I slept at all the first month. But we weren’t the first cohort to go through, so they knew to be easy on us on weapons training for the first while.’ He smiled at her.

Jaskier felt sick. ‘So you still have those urges?’ he said.

‘I’m in control of them,’ Geralt said, trying to reassure him.

Jaskier was not reassured. Geralt felt like this all the time? How did he not go mad? Jaskier was already dreading the point, which would no doubt be soon, when he’d get left behind. It was going to feel like having his heart cut out. He wanted to whimper.

‘Am I always going to feel like this?’ he asked in a small voice.

Geralt looked up from his meal at Jaskier, and his expression softened.

‘I don’t think so,’ he said gently. ‘Usually a spell like this only lasts for a day or two.’

Jaskier gave a sigh of relief. ‘Good. Otherwise it was going to hurt once you left me in the next town.’

‘I’m not leaving you in the next town,’ Geralt said, frowning.

Jaskier felt his breath seize in his chest. ‘You’re ... not?’

‘Of course not.’ Geralt glanced at him again. ‘Couldn’t trust you not to get in trouble again, could I?’ He gave Jaskier one of his shit-eating grins.

‘Hah, yeah,’ Jaskier said weakly. He couldn’t help but think that the joke had a little too much truth in it, and he felt horribly guilty. He nibbled at his dinner, and tried not to meet Geralt’s eyes.

‘Besides,’ Geralt said, quieter, as though he’d sensed Jaskier’s misery, ‘I’ll feel happier if you’re nearby.’

Jaskier’s traitorous heart gave a thump. He knew exactly what Geralt meant, for once. And that confession meant that Geralt thought of him as ... as family. At least like his witcher cohort, which seemed like a similar thing. A brother-in-arms wasn’t exactly what he wanted to be with Geralt, but it was better than he thought he’d be likely to get. Especially after the mountain.

‘Unless ...’ Geralt added uncertainly. ‘Unless you want to go.’

‘No!’ Jaskier said. ‘No, I’d rather stay.’

Geralt looked relieved. Was this why he’d been so insistent that he and Jaskier weren’t friends? Jaskier wondered. Was he trying to prevent Jaskier causing him pain every time they parted by keeping him at an arm’s length?

Because now Geralt was smiling at him openly, not smirking or frowning stoically. And now that Jaskier had said that he was going to stay, Geralt’s shoulders had dropped, and he looked more relaxed and at ease than Jaskier had ever seen him.

It was a good look on him, Jaskier thought.

‘That doesn’t make sense,’ said Cirilla. ‘I thought you said the witch was dangerous, that she had him locked up somewhere.’

‘She did,’ Geralt said.

‘So why make him just be more protective over his friends? That’s stupid.’

‘I ... don’t know,’ Geralt said.

Jaskier thought back to what the witch had been raving about before he passed out.

‘Oh,’ he said.

‘What,’ said Geralt.

‘Nothing! It’s just ... I think I know why,’ said Jaskier.

Geralt raised an interrogative eyebrow.

‘She was trying to convince me that witchers were dangerous monsters,’ explained Jaskier. ‘As though I hadn’t known you for twenty years. Honestly! She was saying something stupid about “Now you’ll learn” before you came to rescue me. I think she might have actually been trying to give me a witcher’s horrifying instincts for death and violence. But instead she gave me your actual instincts for ... wanting to make sure your family’s safe, I guess. I don’t think she knew as much about witchers as she thought she did,’ he added thoughtfully.

Geralt snorted a quiet laugh.

An enormous yawn caught Jaskier unawares. He felt exhaustion pressing down on him.

‘Take my bedroll,’ Geralt said. ‘I can sit up and meditate.’

‘Can’t we share?’ Jaskier said before he could think better of it. He felt a wave of embarrassment roll through him as soon as he realised what he’d said. ‘I mean. I’ll sleep better if you’re near.’

He pleaded silently that Geralt would understand, and for once the gods seemed to hear him, because Geralt’s face melted into understanding.

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Ciri, why don’t you lay your bedroll next to mine? You can sleep on my other side.’

That was more than Jaskier had been able to ask for, and it was exactly what he needed.

They lay down together, the three of them. Jaskier curled around one side of Geralt, his head resting on Geralt’s shoulder. He could hear the heartbeats of the rest of his odd little family, and he felt blanketed in the comforting smell of his best friend. He felt warm and happy and safe, for the first time in a long time.

*

[This fic partly dedicated to my brother-in-law’s family’s dog, Gabe, who was very insistent that my little niece not wander far away from where the rest of the family was gathered yesterday. Pack must stay together; Gabe is very firm on that fact.]

[liberalsarecool]

Access to safe abortion is a woman’s right.

And abortion is a decision to be made between a woman, her doctor, her family, and her god.

...Not a majority white male cohort of politicians with a false sense of morality.

And your judgement?

It matters not.

<end>

[darkverrmin]

*explicit content*

Geralt's first time with Jaskier was, least to say, an utter disaster.

They fell into bed together right after confessing their feelings.

Their kiss was more teeth than tongue.

Jaskier accidentally elbowed Geralt in the nose, while removing his own shirt.

Geralt moaned quietly at Jaskier's dirty talk, but when he tried to say something dirty in return, it came out all stiff and awkward. Jaskier just chuckled and kissed him in response.

Jaskier kept giggling while Geralt was busy showering his body with kisses, saying that Geralt's hair was tickling him.

They spent five whole minutes looking for the vial of oil, when Jaskier remembered that it was in the pocket of his cloak the entire time.

Geralt accidentally spilled half of the oil on the bed sheets when opening the vial. Jaskier silenced his apologies by climbing on top of him and pulling him into a kiss.

Geralt was trying to make Jaskier feel good using only his fingers, but he had no idea how to do it. Jaskier was in his lap the entire time, gasping quietly, guiding Geralt through it. When he saw that Geralt was nervous, Jaskier began to talk to him about something completely different. It helped. Just as Jaskier was about to climb off and pull Geralt on top of him, Geralt found the right spot. Jaskier came almost immediately, crying Geralt's name.

When Geralt finally entered him, hooking Jaskier's right leg over his shoulder, the young man hissed in pain. "Not as flexible as I was before, darling".

When Jaskier tried to flip their positions in order to ride him, he ended up knocking them both to the floor.

They tried having sex with Jaskier bent over the table, but it squeaked terribly.

They ended up having sex against the wall, with Jaskier's legs wrapped around Geralt's hips. But not before Geralt lifted Jaskier up into this position, accidentally hitting the younger man's head against the wall behind him.

A few apologies and a couple of soothing words later, they finally found the right pace.

Geralt came embarrassingly fast, groaning into the crook of Jaskier's neck and shoulder.

They sank onto the floor after that, still holding each other and catching their breath.

Geralt felt Jaskier smiling against his hair and lifted his head to look at the other man.

"What's so amusing?"

Jaskier met his eyes, grinning. He placed a kiss on Geralt's nose and nuzzled at his cheek.

"Oh, nothing. Just... Just thinking that this was the best sex I've ever had."

Geralt grinned in response. "Really?"

"Mm-hmm. I don't even know how to describe it, it just... It felt like home."

Geralt hummed in response, kissing Jaskier's neck.

Home.

In all his years, Geralt had never felt more satisfied.

[heathyr]

“Idiots to lovers” is a phenomenal fic tag, and exactly my brand of romance. I love it when they’re just so….. fucking…. stupid

[wetwareproblem]

I still don’t get how tumblr spent a decade bitching every time JK Rowling opened her mouth, then jumped down Neil Gaiman’s throat for radically embracing death of the author and saying that any Word of God he might utter is just his headcanon.

Like. This is the better option, guys.

[frogcoded]

Neil Gaiman is the anti-Rowling and that’s very sexy of him

Honestly I love his approach to headcanons and stuff, because it encourages creativity in the fandom and that’s wonderful

[wetwareproblem]

This one gets it.

What he’s saying isn’t “your headcanon is wrong.” He’s saying “I didn’t write that part, but feel free!” And that is the healthiest attitude toward fandom I’ve seen in years.

Including from fandom.

[bendingsignpost]

It’s also avoiding a lot of the stuff that’s pissing people off about Marvel:

If it’s not in the finished product, there is no canon about it. There are no interviews about things that happened off-screen that weren’t even alluded to. What happens on the screen (and maybe in the script book) are the grand total of the show canon. And everything else considered, even his ideas, are just headcanons. 

And that’s amazing. 

But, here’s a good chunk of the fandom backlash against him headcanoning instead of delivering the Word of God:

Without being able to seek the approval of Fandom God, there is no Word of God with which to smack down the infidels who have the Wrong Headcanon. Because surely they can be proven wrong… except they actually can’t, and that ambiguity can be 1. too much to handle or 2. not satisfying enough when you only want it as a tool in an argument. Thus, it becomes time to lash out against Fandom God for abandoning us or withholding from us in our Crusade To Be Right.

Goes without saying that all of this is amazingly appropriate, given the subject matter of the work. 

[tzikeh]

Look, Good Omens is the Great Plan, okay, but NOBODY knows if it’s the Ineffable Plan.

[remade02-deactivated20201128]

i have no thoughts in my brain whatsoever but i do know that everybody thinks iruka is a DILF

[italeteller]

HEY YOU YEAH YOU

DO YOU LIKE FAKE MARRIAGE STORIES?

DO YOU LIKE SPIES??

DO YOU LIKE SMOL CHILDREN WITH PSYCHIC POWERS???

THEN SIT THE FUCK DOWN CAUSE I HAVE A NEW MANGA FOR YOU

MEET SPY X FAMILY

THE MAN IS AGENT TWILIGHT, A SPY WHO HAS DISCARDED EVERYTHING ABOUT HIS PAST IN OrDER TO WORK FOR THE COUNTRY OF WESTALIS IN OPPOSITION TO THE COUNTRY OF OSTANIA

KINDA COLD WAR-ISH

HE KICKS ASS, HAS ALL THE GADGETS AND CAN CREATE MISSION IMPOSSIBLE-LIKE FACE-CHANGING MASKS

HE’S THE KINDA GUY YOU REALLY DON’T WANNA FUCK AROUND WITH

FOR HIS NEXT JOB HE’S GOTTA TAKE OUT A POLITICIAN WHO ONLY COMES OUT IN PUBLIC FOR HIS SON’S ELITE SCHOOL REUNIONS

AND TO INFILTRATE THAT AGENT TWILIGHT IS GONNA NEED

*DRUM THE FUCKING ROLLS*

TO ADOPT A KID!

THIS IS ANYA

SHE SMOL

SHE CUTE

SHE A RUNAWAY CHILD FROM AN UNDERGROUND EXPERIMENT THAT GAVE HER THE POWER TO READ PEOPLE’S THOUGHTS

SHE MAY HAVE HORNS, ANTENNAE OR JUST A BOW, I’M NOT SURE

SHE LEARNS TWILIGHT IS A SPY AND TRICKS HIM INTO ADOPTING HER AND THUS BEGINS THE FAKE!PARENT AND CHILD SHENANIGANS WITH A HEALTHY DOSE OF CUTE BONDING

CAN YOU FEEL THE DIABETES YET

BUT THE SCHOOL ALSO REQUIRES MEETINGS TO BE WITH BOTH PARENTS, SO TWILIGHT NEEDS TO FIND A WIFE

THUS ENTERS YORU BRIAR

SHE’S A 27-YEAR-OLD OFFICE WALLFLOWER

SHE’S AN ORPHAN WHO RAISED HER YOUNGER BROTHER ON HER OWN

SHE STICKS HER LEGGY UP REAL FAR

SHE’S ALSO A HITWOMAN UNDER THE CODENAME “THORN PRINCESS” WHO ESPECIALIZES IN KILLING LOADS OF PEOPLE WITH HUGE NEEDLES AND CAN PUNCH YOU SO HARD YOU’LL THANK HER

(SHE’S STRONGER THAN TWILIGHT TOO)

WHEN SHE LIES TO HER BROTHER ABOUT HAVING A BOYFRIEND TO GET HIM OFF HER BACK, HER BROTHER INSISTS IN MEETING THE MAN PERSONALLY AND WILL EVEN REJECT A JOB PROMOTION UNTIL THEY MEET

AND SO THESE TWO CASUALLY MEET AND WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM ANYA, WHO FINDS OUT YORU IS A HITWOMAN AND REALIZES HAVING A SPY AND A HITWOMAN FOR PARENTS WOULD BE ENTERTAINING AS ALL HELL, THEY DECIDE TO FAKE A RELATIONSHIP TO HELP EACH OTHER’S GOALS

TWILIGHT WILL PRETEND TO BE YORU’S BOYFRIEND TO GET HER BROTHER OFF HER BACK

YORU WILL PRETEND TO BE TWILIGHT’S WIFE SO ANYA CAN GET IN THE ELITE SCHOOL

BUT BECAUSE THE POLITICAL CLIMATE IS SO HEAVY WITH SUSPICION AND PEOPLE ARE BEING FALSELY ACCUSED TO BEING SPIES ALL THE TIME, THEY DECIDE TO FAKE-MARRY FOR REAL, JUST TO APPEAR LIKE A NORMAL COUPLE AND THROW SUSPICION OFF THEM AND THEIR RESPECTIVE SECRET JOBS

BUT JUST UNTIL THEY MEET THEIR GOALS RIGHT GUYS

THERE’S DEFINITELY NOT GONNA BE ANY REAL FEELINGS DEVELOPING OR ANYTHING RIGHT GUYS

YES THAT IS A GRENADE PIN TWILIGHT USED AS A WEDDING RING GUYS

AND YOU KNOW WHAT THE ACTUAL, GREATEST THING IS? NOBODY KNOWS THE OTHER PARTY’S SECRET

TWILIGHT DOESN’T KNOW YORU IS A HITWOMAN

YORU DOESN’T KNOW TWILIGHT IS A SPY

NOBODY KNOWS ANYA IS PSYCHIC

ANYA KNOWS EVERYTHING BUT PRETENDS NOT TO SO SHE CAN HAVE A FAMILY

IT’S SUCH A STUPID, HILARIOUS CLUSTERFUCK THAT WILL BLOW UP IN GOD KNOWS WHICH WAY AND I CAN’T FUCKING WAIT FOR IT

THUS FAR THERE’S TWO CHAPTERS OUT, 50 PAGES EACH. IT RELEASES ON THE MANGAPLUS APP BI-MONTHLY WHICH IS A LONG WAIT BUT OH GOD SO FUCKING WORTH IT

AND I HOPE THIS POST WILL CONVINCE MORE PEOPLE TO READ IT AND KEEP IT RUNNING FOR MANY YEARS TO COME

[kiterieficrec]

I need this in my life.

[politedemon]

[lady-divine-writes]

Build Up (Rated NC17)

Crowley has waited 6000 years for this moment with his angel …

That might be one of the reasons he fails so spectacularly. (1242 words)

(Notes: No graphic sex.)

“Mmm … Crowley … I …” Aziraphale’s words are breaths between kisses. As Crowley’s mouth travels down his neck, Aziraphale attempts to string together enough of them to form a single, cohesive sentence. But he’s finding that difficult with Crowley’s lips bruising the skin of his neck, his hands pursuing every button on his clothes, his trembling fingertips brushing flesh that’s never been touched by foreign hands. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Crowley snorts. “Aziraphale, I’ve waited 6000 years to do this.”

“Yes, but, I mean … with me?”

“You’re my husband. Who else am I going to do this with?”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, Aziraphale …” Crowley huffs, struggling with this conversation as much as he’s struggling with Aziraphale’s oddly complicated belt buckle “… I really, really don’t.” Crowley gives up on the buckle and kneels up, utilizing this vantage point to gaze into Aziraphale’s eyes. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”

“No!” Aziraphale waves his hands in front of him, frantically windmilling that perception away. “No, not at all! I want this … I want you, very, very badly.” Crowley grins at his husband’s emphasis, his penchant for over-explaining when he gets anxious, and is inspired to take another go at that buckle. “It’s just that you’re … well …” Aziraphale gestures vaguely at Crowley’s body … “and I’m …” Another vague gesture, this time at himself. Aziraphale sighs. “I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“I’ll be disappointed if you count yourself out before we even get started.”

“We have all night,” Aziraphale assures him.

“Won’t be enough.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said it won’t be enough. One night isn’t going to be enough for what I have planned.”

Keep reading

[yallstar]

🎃Happy (slightly early) Halloween~!🎃  

This is my @VLDexchange gift for @sequencefairy, who asked for a sheith-y Buzzfeed Unsolved AU 👻🔍 So here’s Shiro as a true believer, and Keith as a skeptic (who is definitely 100% a human person) 😞😈

also on twitter and ao3

[fanonical]

the first thing harry, ron, and hermione did after beating voldemort was just take a giant nap together

[maraudersandlily20]

It must have been six in the morning when the sun began to rise. Ginny stood over the bathroom sink, pushing out the dirt from under her fingernails. It felt like perhaps she would never get clean. She sighed as she looked in the mirror and gasped when she saw Luna standing a few steps behind her.

“Luna!” she breathed. “I didn’t hear you.”

The girl quirked her head and smiled. “I seemed to have lost my shoes in the battle.” She barely recognized the flinch across Ginny’s face at the world. “Walking about in socks certainly makes me more quiet than usual.”

Ginny looked down at her mismatched shocks and smiled. Same Luna.

“Did you need something?”

“Oh yes. Your mother was asking for you.”

The two girls left the bathroom, slowly appraising the severity of damage that towered around them that already seemed to be rebuilding itself. Hogwarts would never be down for long. They walked toward the great hall, where the rest of the Weasleys walked about, fulfilling tasks set out by their mother, Molly Weasley herself. Ginny gave Luna’s had a gentle squeeze as the blonde girl turned to speak with Padma and Lavender and broke into a light jog toward her focused mother.

“Mum?” She said, calling attention to herself.

Molly’s head snapped up. “Oh, yes dear! I need more fresh water from the kitchen, piping hot if you can. Perhaps get your brother to help you.”

Ginny nodded and turned to Percy, “Perc? Water?”

Her older brother was standing over a large pot of soup, an apron tied haphazardly around his waist, which was quite a different sight compared to the uptight suit coat he often wore. His eyes narrowed.

“Get Ron to do it.”

With a shrug, she turned to address her other brother. Except that he wasn’t there.

Her eyes darted around, taking in all of the redheaded people in the room, but none were Ron. With a tinge of worry, she began searching for the curly locks that belonged Hermione. To no avail. And then, she tried to find Harry. He was a shorter boy, but his dark skin was usually easy to spot in a crowd of pale skinned people. He, however, was not to be found either.

She turned back to Molly. “Where is Ron?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Molly’s head snapped up and quickly surveyed the dining hall, but, like her daughter, saw no trace of her heroic son or any of his friends either. She clenched her jaw and attempted to squander the familiar panic that filled her when in regards to those three. They always seemed to get in the worst kind of trouble.

“Perhaps he’s out with Bill?”f

“What?” Bill’s head popped up from behind their mother, and Ginny huffed in amusement. They all began looking around, but Ron, Harry and Hermione were truly nowhere to be found.

“Are you looking for Ron?” Seamus said, noticing their darting glances.

“Yeah, have you seen him?” asked Ginny.

“He was headed off toward the Hufflepuff common room.” Dean answered, his hand intertwined with Seamus’. “Said something about a different perspective, or some such nonsense.”

“He was seeming a bit off, trying to find Harry,” Seamus agreed. “Lindley, the Hufflepuff prefect, said she knew where he was and would show him the way. As if the Hufflepuff common room is hard to find.”

Molly nodded, as if understanding her son’s motives. “Ginny dear, would you go and find Ron. I suspect Harry and Hermione won’t be far behind.

She nodded and started to walk out the door of the great hall when Neville and Hannah Abbott intercepted her, looking as if they had just come from the direction of the kitchen and the Hufflepuff common room themselves. Hannah was holding a few blankets and her face was bright red, looking up at Neville with starry eyes, though Ginny couldn’t understand why.

“Hey Gin,” said Neville. “Off to find the golden trio?”

Ginny snorted. “The what?”

The boy shrugged. “Dunno, seemed to fit them.” Ginny wasn’t about to argue and the description seemed to fit. She could only imagine who had started that nickname and how the trio in question would feel about the term.

“Yeah, any idea where they were off to?”

“The Hufflepuff common room.” Hannah supplied, looking anxious to be helpful. “Harry was barely standing when I saw him. I figured he wouldn’t make it up the stairs, so I let him in. Lindley brought Ron and Hermione shortly after. They seemed panicked when he had disappeared.”

“Can you blame them?”

“No,” a sheepish Hannah responded. “If I had been through what they had, I would permanently chain myself to them so I always knew where they were at all times.”

Neville smiled and put an arm around Hannah which sent her cheeks blazing again and Ginny’s eyes widened in surprise.

“The door’s open,” he finally said, guiding Hannah around Ginny and toward the great hall to supply more blankets to those who needed it. Ginny watched, slack jawed, at their exit and couldn’t help the surprised bark of laughter that left her. As odd as it seemed, Hannah and Neville seemed to fit perfectly together.

Having a better idea of where her brother and his friends might be, she set off down the flight of stairs toward the Hufflepuff common room. The door looked so different from any in the castle, with the whole thing being a large yellow circle with the knob in the middle. Lindley was leaving just as she came to the door. Lindley smiled.

“They’re fine,” she said, answering the question before Ginny could ask it. “They just needed somewhere to sleep.” The head girl walked off after that, disappearing before Ginny could get any clarification. She narrowed her eyes and turned the knob, opening the door as quietly as she could.

The sight before her was something that made her feel like she was about to cry.

It was Ron, Harry, and Hermione. They were laying down on an assortment of bedding, pillows, and blankets, fast asleep.

But what was so incredible about the image was how they were all wrapped up in each other. Harry lay in the middle, curled on his side. Hermione was behind him, both of her arms wrapped around his chest. Harry’s glasses were laying off to the side of the cuddle pile, and his nose and forehead were pressed against Ron’s chest, who had his long arms wrapped around the both of them, one of his arms acting as a pillow.

Ginny stood and watched them sleep, studying their faces, feeling a flush of gratitude warm her.

They were filthy still, having had no real time to clean off after the struggle and the fighting. The dust from the castle coated their clothes and scrapes and scabs from their constant journeying peppered their skin. But all three were breathing evenly, seemingly having no problem with the tight hold they had on each other. In fact, upon closer study, Ginny found that Harry had a tight fist wrapped up in Ron’s tattered shirt and his other hand was interlocked with Hermione’s. It was almost like his subconscious was telling him to hold on, just in case they could disappear if he had his eyes closed for too long of if he wasn’t holding onto them in some way.

But it was their faces that surprised Ginny the most. Because they were all at peace, in a deeper sleep than she suspected any of them had gotten in weeks. Ginny knew that the three would sleep for hours without ever waking.

She was filled, suddenly, with a feeling of relief. Because it was over. The struggle, the battle, the terrible war had finally come to an end. And the three children that the whole wizarding world had so depended on were finally allowed to sleep in peace, not having to jolt awake or be ready for a fight at any moment. And Ginny felt hope, that their lives from here on out would see much less terror and anxiety. Perhaps, now, they could grow and experience things like other kids could. Maybe, now, they were allowed to actually be kids.

Maybe Ron could buy a chess set and actually have time to play it. Perhaps Hermione could finally get a bookshelf for the numerous novels that she had started to pile up in the corner of the guest room of Grimmauld Place. And maybe, just maybe, Harry could be allowed to be his own person, without the weight of the world bearing down on his shoulders. He’d been the boy who lived for so long that Ginny was curious to see simply what kind of boy he would be, given the chance. Because he had lived. And he still lived. Over and over again. He was now the boy who was alive, after everything. He was the boy who had saved the world.

And now, he was finally allowed to just be a boy.

Ginny wondered how that would look on him.

Luna once again crept up behind her and clasped onto her hand. Ginny looked over and gave her a small smile and the two of them stared at the three people who had somehow survived despite everything.

“It’s funny,” Luna whispered, studying the heap of jumbled limbs that were wrapped together in front of them. “They’ve spent so long living to save everyone else. I wonder what the future looks like to them, without all of that looming over their heads every minute. I wonder if they’ll figure out how to just live.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Ginny answered. “I wonder what kind of people they get to become now… now that the world doesn’t need them to save it.”

Luna smiled up at Ginny and nudged her with her shoulder. “The possibilities are endless.”

Ginny grinned and looked back at Harry, Hermione, and Ron, all wrapped around each other, sleeping peacefully together for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime. She sighed in contentment. “Yeah,” she agreed. “endless.”

[tea-blitz]

Summary:  Unexpectedly one night, Kakashi, the man Iruka’s secretly in love with, asks to walk Iruka home. They share a night together that won’t be replicated again for 25 years. In between, Iruka watches the man that once returned his affection get further and further away, all the while longing to pull him close again.

“I didn’t mean to pry,” Kakashi said.

“Yes, you did,” I said. He never did anything he didn’t mean to do either.

Kakashi tilted his head at me. Maybe he wasn’t used to being called out.

“I remember thinking then how awful that would have been,” he said. “To learn that the person closest to you was not only a traitor, but had always intended to betray you…Had only been close to you in order to betray you…It’s truly unforgivable. I’ve been betrayed, but no one has used me. I’m sorry that happened to you, Iruka-Sensei.”

My lip trembled while he spoke. He made it sound like it happened so long ago. But to me, it always felt as though it had just happened. As though he had just kissed me goodnight, and arrived at my doorstep just a couple of hours later to inform me that Naruto had stolen the scroll. I could still feel his lips pressed against my own. His shuriken in my spine.

Kakashi rested a hand on my shoulder for a second. The closest he’d ever been to me. His hand felt surer than Mizuki’s. I wanted to trust it. I wanted more of it.

“I wish I could say that I’m surprised you noticed,” I said. “If a different shinobi were telling me this, I probably would be. But you, Kakashi-sensei, don’t miss anything, do you?”

He pulled his hand away from me and looked up toward the stars. “Not when it comes to you.”

Read It On AO3

I don’t usually make fic recommendation posts for one single fic, but I believe this gem of a fic really deserves its own post. Admittedly, first person point of view isn’t my cup of tea, but it’s perfect for this fic. It’s sad and pretty slowburn for a fic that sits close to 7,000 words, but its end is so sweet and wonderful.

Words cannot fully describe how I feel about this fic, and if yall are looking for something sad with a happy ending, then you should absolutely check this fic out. You will not regret it.

[anonymousalchemist]

me: boy i would really love to read this fic that i am writing right now, it hits all the right buttons for me and its exactly the content i crave 

me: i am absolutely 100% against physically writing this fic with my real physical human hands 

[sunriseverse]

Prompt: Newt and Hermann are both college professors at the same university. They both speak about their husband all the time. But their descriptions are so different than their public personas that still no one has any idea they're talking about each other.

credit to @bae-science for that painful exchange at the end (modified it a bit to suit my needs)

Newt wears it on a chain around his neck; tight enough that it doesn’t dangle much, for fear of entanglement or endangerment during a lab, but loose enough that it’s not uncomfortable, the metal of the band catching the light when he pops the top buttons on his collar.

Hermann, as is traditional, wears it on his ring finger; smiles fondly whenever Newt reminds him of it.

“You put it there,” he says; “I’m not taking it off, Newton.”

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