#bakeson

[mexicancat-girl]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

This fic is for Day 5 of The Long Walk Hank Olson Appreciation Week, run by my friend @collie-parkers-carbine!

I'm a little late... Alas, this fic balloned into 10k without me meaning to.

Got too lost in the sauce of Hank Olson having a crisis of faith and getting a crush on hunky new pastor Art Baker.

Summary: 

Hank Olson was starting to lose faith. He wanted to quit attending church despite his family loyally going since he was three and newly immigrated to America. With two pastors in less than five years, things were looking dire. But third time's seemingly the charm, when Art Baker became their newest pastor. Hank decided in the end to stick around. And not just because Father Art was gorgeous.

Rated T, 10 000 words

[ermathebest]

I think I'm catching a cold or something, so now I'm imagining Hank being sick and Art taking care of him.

[irritableizzy]

hiii i know the event is technically over but im actually rarepair maxxing sooooo… yay!

day four: tension

bakeson save me save me bakeson. whats more tense than dying in your lover’s arms amirite —

for the rare pair week hosted by kat!

[invaderrichie]

i want bakeson smoking weed together. i want bakeson fics where hank is only ever sweet on art, no one else. i want bakeson in the kitchen making muffins for art's church bake sale. i want modern day bakeson in college as roommates to lovers. i want bakeson making out at the drive in movies. i want bakeson fics where no one knows they've been dating for months because they act so normal, but that's just because they're so in love with each other. i want bakeson talking about their relationship with religion. I WANT BAKESON.

[musketeerpilled]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

the long walk fandom where are you

medieval / royalty au bakeson for you all

if you comment i'll give you a big hug

summary below the cut

“ 𝒜re the stars out tonight ? ℐ don’t know if it’s cloudy or bright . ”

𝒜rthur Baker had grown up alongside Hank Olson for years— since they were fifteen. He had known his prince well, well enough to be his most trusted knight. Arthur was Hank’s closest confidant. He told Arthur everything, and even though he wasn’t sure if he was speaking the way a trusted knight should, he always told Hank to make his decisions with his heart, even when they went against the wishes of the kingdom.

𝒪ne night as Arthur is standing by the doorway of Hank’s private quarters, he quietly invites him in, a defiant glint in his dark eyes. Arthur takes a breath as Hank reveals he’s set to marry another. His palms begin to sweat at the thought, but his worrying is interrupted by a confession. Hank doesn’t want this. He wants anything but this, and he’s planning to leave. He wants Arthur to come with him. Arthur’s initial reaction is yes of course, but the looming dread of what will become of them if they’re caught weighs heavier than armor on his shoulders.

[seesnarlingteeth]

Your LPS-ification WIP is kind of terrifying and I need to see more of it. Please work 15 on that.

so funny story…

the og file got deleted. oops? i wanted to redraw olson anyway. so its fine

[musketeerpilled]

chapter one of medieval bakeson au is done . . . 4k words . . . nearly . who's proud of me

[rat-with-a-cup-of-soup]

Compass Point

A short drabble for day one of @collie-parkers-carbine's prompt event. This is kinda late, but I was suddenly seized by inspiration to write some angst about Art processing Hank's death, and thought the "stars" prompt fit really well!

Art looked up as his thumb brushed the beads of his rosary, coming to rest on its crucifix.

How many steps had it been since he'd lost him? It was impossible to keep count.

The thin arm of the cross pressed deep into his thumb, denting the flesh as he squeezed. Art's hands burned, even now, at the memory of Hank's blood seeping into them. All these long, lonely miles somehow hadn't done anything to lessen the heat.

The night sky had opened itself, slowly at first, to the first rays of dawn. Still, there were just a few stars that stayed visible. Art held one in his gaze as he walked, focusing all his attention on that single pinprick. Dazzling, even against the blue-gray sky.

He had decided, somewhere between heartbreak and oblivion, that this star would guide him. That it would be special. Perhaps, if he believed hard enough, it could be Hank, watching over him each endless night. A comforting thought.

Art looked down at his shoes, swaying over the pavement. One step, then one more, endlessly...

His eyes drifted back up to Hank - blurry now. The light swam in his vision and streaked, shaking and unsteady, across a huge, open sky.

Maybe Art's friend could walk with him like this, just a bit longer.