#everyone who recognises at least 2 of the fics on here: i’m starting a support group /j

[strawbkiwi]

ao3 re: izzy hands

#everyone who recognises at least 2 of the fics on here: i’m starting a support group /j #our flag means death #izzy hands #steddyhands #ofmd #ao3 #spaghetti washer

[depressedacadamia]

Dimples

Summary: Apparently Nico has dimples and Will did not know.

A/N: Heheheee, motherfuckers my exams are in a week and a half and I haven't revised shit. Instead, I'm writing these. Wish me luck, this might be the only fic I post for the next 2 weeks but if you're lucky, I might post pt 2 for 'How to passive aggressively say Fuck you in flower'. Toodle pip and <3 from mee!

Extra edit: I forgot it was solangelo week, woops. 

Read on A03

Nico Di Angelo was not known for smiling. He was not known for grinning or laughing. He was however, known for snarling, sarcastic, outdated remarks and terrifying people to the point where they’d rather face death itself than face him and his wrath.

So of course, Percy and every logical being would avoid him at all costs when he was in one of his ‘moods’. These so-called ‘moods’ referred to when Nico seemed particularly dangerous, like when his eyes had a dangerous glower to them that hinted he enjoyed threatening others a tad too much- in fact, so much so that Leo had suggested that Nico may be a sadist (That hadn’t gone well for Leo, to say the very least).

But of course, William Andrew Solace was in no way a logical being nor was he very fearful of Nico’s alternating and very much violent auras. Now, this wasn't necessarily a bad thing necessarily, in fact, it was the very thing that had started their relationship and while everybody thought Will was insensitive with his historical jokes he made towards Nico, Nico greatly appreciated being able to understand something from his time.

Will, on several occasions, related him to Captain America in Marvel's Avengers.

So when Nico, in his terrifying rage, stormed into the infirmary, Percy wasn’t sure what he was about to witness. Were these two having an argument? Nico looked like he was going to set the infirmary ablaze or perhaps bury it 6 feet under- it was truly the unpredictability that created the suspense and fear.

“Where are they?” Nico’s voice was calm, cold but sharp. His words felt like the gentle, smooth slant of a knife, apply pressure and you get cut. Nobody dared to answer. The infirmary’s silence seemed like one of lambs, too scared to speak out until another leader did. Whether they expected Nico to simply leave if no one answered, they certainly did not expect him to ask again.

“Where. Are. They?” He punctuated his words, his voice combined with a deadly hunger that could only be satisfied with death.

The room felt like a cave. The only words being echoed back were Nico’s own words, bouncing off the smooth walls of the infirmary. The corners seemed dark, the white presence of the infirmary slowly being poisoned. It seemed like fate sealed their hands- they were like lambs to the slaughter: helpless.

“WHERE ARE THEY!” Nico roared. This time, he did not wait for a response. He took a small glimpse at the camper in front of him, who was obviously avoiding his gaze, and the next thing the kid knew was that he was pinned to the wall with a metre of stygian iron under his neck. The kid hyperventilated and in a moment of sheer panic and pure fear, blurted,

“I don’t know where they are! “

Nico, holding the camper up with one hand, shoved him into the wall again. “ But you hurt them anyway?”

The camper was completely clueless but he wasn’t stupid. Simply denying whatever Nico was accusing him of would increase Nico’s rage and that could lead everyone down a very dark road.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt them! I swear...” He started to sob. “ I swear it was an accident!”

“You hurt them! That isn’t an accident. You will pay for your crimes. I swear I will-”

“-Dear god, Nico what the hell?” A voice of pure confusion entered the infirmary. Nico, on recognising the voice, felt his head snap backwards-trying to find the course of the voice. There on the other side of the infirmary, with his leg in a cast, stood Will solace, still as unfashionable as ever.

Nico almost teleported to Will, considering how fast he appeared by his side. “ Are you okay? It’s okay, I found out who did it and-”

“-Jesus, Stalin, calm down there.” Will looked at the terrified boy who was in tears. “This kid knows nothing. He wasn’t even there. Were you just putting on some show trials?”

Nico had to resist the twitch in his lips at the communism jokes. Ever since Will had found out that Nico’s weakness was communism jokes, he had been exploiting it, just like the working class were exploited, and using it to his own advantage.

“Wait, this kid wasn’t involved?” Nico looked at all the terrified people in the infirmary, still frozen to their spots, waiting for the go sign for them to continue with their lives.

Will waved his hand. “Go ahead, continue with your business. He will be on his best behaviour now that I’m here.”

“Uh, says who?”

“Says my broken leg.”

On the mention of a broken leg, Nico’s worry instantly returned. His hand reached out to touch Will’s face, in a gesture of affection before quickly snatching it away. Will reached for his hand, took it in his own and intertwined their fingers as in to say It’s okay, they support us. It’s okay, I love you and you love me. It’s okay, I’m not ashamed of being in love with you.

Nico appreciated the gesture and once again, fought the urge to give in to the overwhelming desire to smile at his perfect boyfriend.

“Are you okay? Can you show me your leg? What happened? Why can’t you heal it?” The words began flying out of Nico’s mouth, the concern on his face unhideable. His eyebrows were cutely creased together and he kept on placing his hands all over Will- it was driving him crazy.

“Calm down there, communist. This is my injury, not yours.” Will joked, trying to hide his blush- truth be told, he did not want to tell Nico the real reason behind how he broke his leg because it was honestly the most ridiculous reason one may ever hear in their entire life.

Nico let out a little snort of laughter after hearing another communist joke but was careful to keep it on the downlow. He noticed that Will was being quite indirect and avoiding his gaze: he knew that could only mean one thing.

“What did you do to break your leg?” Nico smirked wickedly, understanding that Will had, once again, been quite idiotic.

Will, gasping in mock offense but also quite embarrassed by how well his own boyfriend knew him, let out a bubble of nervous daughter. “ Hahaa, what do you mean? I broke my leg the same way everyone else does...”

“... which is?”

Due to the vast amount of broken legs he had healed, Will actually knew how to answer this question. “ Through sports.”

“Sports?” Nico snorted. “ You? Sports? Have you ever even run in your entire life? I swear the only thing you do is heal and read. Maybe sleep on the offhand you listen to me.”

“You can’t talk over there!”

“Just tell me how you broke your leg, for the love of the Gods!”

“I was having a competition with Percy for who could heal faster.”

“You were doing what?”

“A competition Nico, have you ever heard of one? Normally the losers forget they exist so I wouldn't be surprised that you had never heard of one-”

“No, I know what a competition is, you idiot. What I don't know is, why on earth you were having a regeneration competition with Percy of all the demigods you could have chosen, you chose the one with the ability to heal themselves as well?”

Will pouted slightly, his eyebrows making a small frown. “I would have thought you would be halfway through murdering Percy right about now.”

“If Percy managed to win, then honestly, you kinda deserved it.”

“I thought you liked me!”

“I thought my boyfriend wasn’t an idiot!”

“Technically I won because Percy was too baby-ish to break his own leg!”

Nico took a very long pause. Slowly, he began shaking his head, from side to side. The expression on his face was illegible but eventually it morphed into one of laughter. His laugh was rich and so was the expression on his face. His lips were curled upwards, his eyes were creasing, with long beautiful dimples on both sides of his face- as clear as the moon on a clear night.

The infirmary was silent. They simply stared at the beautiful angel who graced the place with their voice. They were horrified and in awe. Nico Di Angelo was capable of smiling! He was capable of laughing!

It was a fucking miracle.

“What did I tell you!” Percy yelled, throwing his arm over Annabeth who simply sighed. “I fucking told you! I knew he had dimples!”

Will, slightly stunned, simply took Nico’s face in both his hands. His crystal blue eyes were wide open and to Nico it looked like the ocean was inviting him to take a dive into int’s complex and unknown depths.

Into the unknooooowwwwwnnnnnn.

He cursed himself for that being his first thought. He then cursed Will for making him watch Frozen because it was apparently culturally inappropriate to not have seen it. Then he cursed himself again for cursing Will.

“Holy shit,” Will whispered as he stared into his boyfriends grinning face. “Holy fuck Nico, you never told me you had dimples.”

“Language.”

“Holy shit, holy fucking hell. You cannot smile at me like that Nicolo Di Angelo and expect me to keep my language appropriate. Have you ever seen yourself in a mirror?”

“Calm down,” Nico groaned, throwing his head backwards. He could feel his palms getting sweaty from Will’s words- what could he say, he was slightly embarrassed.

“Wait!” Will cried. “ Do it again. Smile again!”

Nico gave a sultry smirk and Will whacked his arm. “ I asked you to smile at me, not seduce me. Smile!”

“Who wouldn't be happy to be seduced by me?”

“Just smile, please!”

Nico sighed before looking at his gorgeous boyfriend. His eyes darted down at the cast around the leg and immediately Nico remembered the cause of injury. He started laughing, his lips stretching into a genuine smile and his dimples flashing all across his face. Will, still holding his boyfriend's face, couldn’t help himself as he brought their lips together.

Will was so used to feeling Nico’s smile when they kissed so when he brought their lips together, he didn't know what he was expecting. It felt different for some reason, it felt more.. It felt better, it felt like he was getting a new piece of Nico. Feeling Nico smile and seeing him smile were two different things and now that he could picture Nico’s smile as he kissed his smiling lips, Will thought he’d explode from happiness.

Will pulled away quickly, his hand still cemented to Nico’s grinning face. He had pulled away just so he could see Nico’s smile and more importantly his dimples again.

“What?” Nico’s innocent voice and grin combined confirmed for Will that if he died on that very spot, he would have died a happy man.

“Holy shit, you’re the cutest person ever.”

And with that, he brought their lips together again.

Neither of them noticed Thalia and Annabeth sulking as they paid up their debts to Percy from losing the bet.

#will solace #nico di angelo #solangelo #will solace fanfic #nico di angelo fanfic #solangelo fanfic #solangelo week #solangeloweek2021 #will x nico #nico x will #Nico x will fluff #Nico x Will fanfiction #nico x will fanfic #percy jackson #pjo #thalia grace #annabeth chase #hoo #percy jackson fanfic

[likesrandomstuff]

Avalance Fic Recommendations Part 4

The final part of this series. Thanks to everyone who reblogged and liked, and a huge shout-out to @heywhereisperry who encouraged and motivated me into doing this.

As I said in Part 1, feel free to add any more stories you think should be recognised to any of these posts, and my ask box is open if you would like more detail on anything.

Part 1: Bite Sized

Part 2: Snacks

Part 3: Meals

Banquets (Over 75,000 words)

When you do not have anything you need to do in the next couple of days

You're My Miracle by bihexualmess

My tags: Ava is FBI, Sara is a Private Investigator, Rip brings Sara on for a case

This just got updated the other week and ruined multiple nights of sleep for me. At almost 350k words, still going, I don’t know how to explain without spoiling stuff that happens a long way in. There are so many layers to both Ava and Sara here, and the trauma, and the issues, and the fact they will not talk to each other about anything. I jumped on this a bit late, as the title and description didn’t grab me, but oh boy, I was missing out. I did get to read a heap of it in one go, but that doesn’t help the slow burn. I would start this even though it’s still a WIP, just because it will take you a while, to read, and also the storylines need time to settle in, because they are heavy, but just amazing. It is now the longest Avalance fic with the latest update.

this is the way that we love (like it's forever) by CoffeeAndArrows, moonlitprincess

My tags: College Avalance dated and broke up, five years later they meet again, Ava’s dating someone else

This fic had me crying in the lunchroom during my second week of work because I couldn’t not read during my lunch break, and it was hitting me so hard. That was after starting it at 10pm, reading to 2am, sleeping until 6am, reading until 11am a couple of days before. Warning for major character deaths; the funeral for one is alluded to in the description. If anyone says something bad about Jordan, I will not be happy; one of the best original characters I have ever read in a fic. Sara’s not in a great place initially, but she gets there. And there’s some cute flashbacks to college Legends too.

you make me smile (please stay for a while now) by CoffeeAndArrows, moonlitprincess

My tags: High School Rivals AU, Ava’s class president, Sara is the superstar soccer captain, they have more in common than they thought

I just looked at the word count for this, and it must be the first time I have, because wow! It is a journey! There’s a couple of prequel, sequel and interjection stories in this universe too. Ava has to deal with her family not being super supportive when she comes out. Sara has to deal with Laurel struggling and their mum having a clear favourite (Laurel). Most of the Legends have really great arcs in here as well. Ava’s family is great. I wanna hang out with her little sister. Don’t be like 2018 me who gives up after the first chapter because they are mad about what Laurel is going through. She’s fine, and there’s a heap of great Sara and Laurel moments. I recently re-read the last 10 chapters, and I still couldn’t stop myself from reading like it was the first time.

i am who you used to love (and you are just a memory) by justpalsbeingals

My tags: The Vow AU, but Ava makes some better choices early on, they’re married, Ava gets into an accident and loses all memory of Sara

I hate the movie this fic is based on. The movie’s fine, and it was a delight seeing Tatiana Maslany in it while I was watching Orphan Black, but basically it is my worst-case scenario, losing my memory. The fact that this fic kept me hooked despite that, is a testament to the quality. The fic itself says “light angst”, I say it’s much, much heavier than that, but that’s just me. Warning, there are some intense twists in here, and everyone is a bit OOC to me, memory loss being considered, which might not be your thing.

and i will stumble and fall (i'm still learning to love) by lucylikestowrite

My tags: SwanQueen kid fic AU, yes, I know go with me on this, Ava adopted Sara’s unexpected baby, said kid finds Sara years later

In general, as I’ve mentioned before, I don’t like kid fics. Fics with future children coming back to meet their parents, or the couple going into the future? Some of my favourites ever. This has no time travel, but I trust Lucy. This story is under 75k, but the sequel is almost as long, so combined they’re over. The sequel is a WIP. I didn’t watch Once Upon a Time, but it’s the plot of the start of that, except the gay actually happens. There are a lot of issues our girls have to work through here, but the kid is so cute.

and we could try by plinys

My tags: it’s a story mostly told on twitter through fake screen shots of social media, Sara drunk messages Ava, Ava doesn’t block her

I’m sure this format of storytelling is not for everyone, and that’s okay! I was so confused by it at first. I would recommend starting with the shorter one, I can be your hero (in Part 2), just to see if you like it, before jumping into this. I read this when the epilogue, the fic, was released, and I was up until 5am because I couldn’t stop. It became part of my personality. Story wise, Sara and Ava are on different coasts, but both know Nate, Ray and Nora. Ray and Nora get engaged, and Avalance have to deal with planning that wedding, and whatever is going on with them.

take my hands now by plinys

My tags: Another Social Media twitter AU, Sara is The Canary, Ava is trying to arrest vigilantes, Nate accidently gives Ava Sara’s number

Another brilliant twitter story. Some of our gang is trying to arrest the other half. Sara knows who Ava is, Ava doesn’t know that Sara is the person she’s chasing. Everyone has public twitter accounts. Sara actually gets [spoiler villain] to stop an attack by sending them money for a drink.

your eyes, they shine so bright by plinys

My tags: Social Media AU, everyone works for not Buzzfeed, a colab series is pitched, Sara and Ava’s teams have to work together

Ava makes factual videos, Sara does not, they are forced to work together. Nate is everyone’s boss technically, but they do what they want. Nate and Ava are non-biological siblings, and Satan Camp is a running gag. Oh, fake dating is in there too!

right to the top, don't hold back by SJAandDWfan

My tags: American Ninja Warrior AU, Sara’s a veteran and the Legends train together, Ava’s a rookie, rivals to training partners to friends to …

I re-read this every year when the new Australian season comes out. It’s so burned into my brain that when I was watching the speed climbing at the Olympics I genuinely thought “I wonder how Amaya would go in this?”. Amaya’s pre-Ninja experience is rock climbing in this fic. I learnt so much about Ninja Warrior and how the show (at least in this universe) works, and it’s fascinating. Would recommend watching some clips if you’re unfamiliar with the concept. The story goes pretty in detail about the courses. For recommendations, either Jessie Gaff, who was a S1 Supergirl stuntwoman, or Australia’s own Olivia Vivian, who is just stages better than our next female.

biding our time (until tomorrow) by TheTruthAboutLove

My tags: Period setting AU, Ava’s too noble for her own good, Oliver’s dad is the villain

This was a really cool experiment. Basically, told in lots of mini chapters like a soap opera. I do not know much about this period of American history, but it did not matter. A lot of different Arrow-verse peeps show up along the way. I’m sure I complained out loud “you’re allowed to want things Ava!” at some point. There’s an attempt for fake dating, and it’s not the homophobia but the second daughter problem that gets them.

Click here to see all the parts

#Avalance fic rec #Avalance #Sara Lance #Ava Sharpe #fanfiction

[oftenderweapons]

Apple Of My Pie (6) — Jin

A Small Town Swoons story

Chapter 6.

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x reader (nicknamed Buttercup)

Wordcount: 3.8k

Genre: non-idol!AU, Baker/Café owner!Seokjin, University student!reader Flatmates!AU, Friends To Lovers; angst, very little fluff

Rating: suggested 18+ for future smut and swearing

A/N: Hello my cupcakes! Welcome to the Small Town Swoon Universe! 🥰✨

In this episode: Jin and Buttercup have been apart for a while. Both mourn for their separation, Buttercup nursed by the attentive care of Jeongguk and Yoongi, while Seokjin prefers dwelling on his feelings in solitude. In the deepest darkness, some sense finally sheds a light, thanks to the words of an unexpected ally. 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Swearing. Both jin and Buttercup are underfed, which leads to a sense of coldness and numbness, fatigue and haziness that are mentioned in the fic. 

Remember to vote for next prompt (check the link in my bio) and in case you need it, here’s my masterlist 💜

If you’d like some company, here is the music companion (Spotify only, sorry 😔)

Enjoy ✨💜

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7 (7/7)

He missed you.

He missed you a lot.

He missed you waking up at two am to raid the kitchen. He missed hearing your laugh from across the apartment while you watched something.

He missed hearing you ramble on and on about literature in your own room as you studied your lessons, he missed breakfast together, he missed waking up at two pm after a night shift and having late lunch together after you came back from your lessons. He missed making you hot cocoa, watching films together, having dinner, talking about boring stuff.

He missed you.

He had been missing you for two weeks now, and soon they would become three.

Nineteen days. In a few hours he would have to handle one more Saturday dinner alone, one more Saturday night without watching a film with you on the sofa. And then another Sunday morning when he would cook too much food and end up bringing it to Taehyung.

Nineteen days.

That’s how long you had been missing.

And every time he came back home, one more piece of you disappeared. Your toiletries had vanished on that unfortunate Sunday. That inglorious, tragic Sunday, when he was still too confused to understand the end had started.

On Monday, the first few books were gone; your currently reading novels, usually abandoned on the coffee table, had disappeared.

Next your blanket, the one his granny had gifted you for your first Christmas away from home. That was on Tuesday, with some more books.

The emptiness he had prayed for ever since he had decided he needed to fall out of love with you was slowly conquering the apartment. The same emptiness, once a welcome feeling in his mind, now manifested in his heart as a slow, ruthless strangling, the one where you know exactly what is happening, and you feel every cell of your body oppose, fight for oxygen, like a person clawing at the offender’s fingers tightening around their throat.

He felt like he was drowning, inch by inch, unfathomably.

He rang the door bell.

A disturbingly sweet scent of tuberose met his nostrils. He flinched.

“Hi, come in!”

“We can order in some pizza or I could make pasta. Or risotto.” Jeongguk sat beside you, stealing your book and putting it down. “You need to eat, Sweets.”

You shook your head. “I’m okay, I’m just not in the mood.”

“Just a little, come on. Make me happy.” He begged, looking at you with those eyes that made it impossible to deny him.

“Okay. Just a little, though, I’m really… Not okay.” You admitted, snuggling up next to Bibby, his torso pillowing your head.

He scared you with a sneeze before you both settled down again. The dog had become your shadow, following you everywhere, as if he could sense your deep need for affection and support.

Jeongguk nodded. “Can you handle a baby pizza? We can eat the leftovers tomorrow for breakfast,” he mused, letting you know it was okay even if you didn’t finish your food.

He just wanted you to eat.

You were cold all the time, your teeth always clattering, your body so weak after days of eating the very minimum to stay alive and studying.

In the last few days you had even given up on attending university, your friends and study buddies sending you the recordings of the lessons. One of your teachers had even noticed your absence and Lara had diligently made up an excuse, saying you had caught a bad flu and that you were slowly recovering.

“Lemme call the pizza place.” Jeongguk cupped your cheek, studying your face, so pale, your eyes, so tired.

You nodded.

Jeongguk sat up and called. “Hi, it’s me. Yeah, can I have a baby Margherita in ten? I know, it’s Friday and rush hour, just a baby Margherita… You’re the best. Yes, I’ll bring you candies. Go to work. Yeah, bye.”

You blinked a few times, quite surprised at Jeongguk’s relaxed tone as he talked to the person on the phone.

“It’ll be here soon. Why don’t you rest your eyes a little. You need that, Sweets.” He reminded you.

He could be so apprehensive, so caring and observant.

He seemed to know everything, the same way Jin did. Still, you were far from feeling for Jeongguk the things you felt for Jin. It felt like that path you had walked to Seokjin would never lead you to Jeongguk, though you had considered.

It wasn’t a matter of food, or time, or affection or care. It was something deeper, deeper than attraction and spending time together and laughing at the same jokes.

It was as if your soul didn’t feel at home in his space, like it could never inhabit his body the way it inhabited yours. Or Seokjin’s.

You closed your eyes.

“Good for you.” Jeongguk said, fixing the blanket around you, adding an extra one for your feet, knowing that they always got cold.

“She’s sleeping.”

“Does she sleep a lot?”

“Quite a lot, yes.”

“Did she lose weight?”

“Yes, definitely.”

“Does she eat, even just a little?”

“When I’m around, yes, but I’m not usually home for lunch. I’m pretty sure she eats breakfast and dinner. Very little food, but at least she eats.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“Yoongi, she’s trying.”

You could hear some voices from the kitchen table, but you refused to open your eyes. You could recognise them with your eyes closed anyway.

Spice’s voice appeared. “I bet she’s exhausted. He looked bad too. They’re hurting so bad, both of them.”

“They had chances, Spice. They turned them down. Maybe they’ll learn the lesson.” Yoongi said coldly.

“Not everyone is like us, baby. They’re taking their time.” Spice calmed him down.

“They won’t have forever.” Yoongi objected with a slight growl in his voice.

Jeongguk stared as Spice brought an arm around Yoongi’s shoulders, pulling him into her chest. She knew it was his history making him speak with so much anger and tension. “If it doesn’t happen, then they’re not meant to be.”

Yoongi relaxed a little. “If they aren’t, then I don’t know who is.”

Spice shook her head. “They’ll work it out.”

Jeongguk placed his head against his hands. “She’s just freezing cold, all the time.”

“You mean her body temperature or her mood?” Yoongi questioned.

“Her temperature.”

Yoongi tutted. “Give her more sugars. She needs fruit and honey and chocolate. Keep those on the coffee table so you can keep them in check, see if she eats.”

“Sure thing.”

“Has she seen him?” Spice asked, still holding Yoongi’s hand.

“No. I don’t think so. Lara tells her when he’s at the bakery so she can go home and get what she needs.” Jeongguk replied.

Yoongi breathed heavily. You could tell it was him by the way his exhale was drenched in exasperation. “That man. He will drive me mad. He’s so stupid.”

“He has a girl—”

“Which in my opinion he should have never had.” Yoongi commented.

“It’s his choice, Yoongi. He fucked up. I’m here for her.” Jeongguk objected. “I’m her friend.”

“You had feeli—”

“I had them. In the past. You know how this works, Yoongi. How it works for me. She’s never been it. I’ll know when the right one comes.” Jeongguk stated, as determined as ever.

“Then learn the lesson from that fucker and when she comes, tell her what she means to you.” Yoongi said, squeezing Spice’s hand in his.

“I’ll tell her so much she’ll get tired of it.” Jeongguk affirmed with the solemn tone of promises.

Spice squeezed Yoongi’s hand in return. “We never get tired of hearing that.”

Yoongi’s eyes met those of his lover, friend and partner. “We never do.” He said, like a whispered secret to his beloved.

Jeongguk smiled at the exchange. That was his goal. Finding something like that, like what he saw between his friends, right in that moment.

“Should I wake her?” He asked, musing about your situation.

Yoongi got out of his bubble and replied quickly. “Yes. Try keeping her close to a proper sleeping schedule. Her body is spread thin right now, so she’ll need naps, but don’t let those last too long.” The man instructed. “If it doesn’t get better in two weeks, then we’ll need to get proper help. You know there’s not much I can do since I’m connected to both. I cannot be professional about it.” Yoongi explained. “I have a uni colleague who practices and who could help her, were this to continue.”

“Thank you, Yoongi.”

“All cool, kid. Text me when she’s up. Tell her to call me if you see she’s ready.”

Jeongguk nodded, “I’ll have her call you.”

“Yeah, just don’t force her,” Yoongi replied, standing up and wearing his coat. “Spice and I will be out of town next weekend. Just so you know.”

Jeongguk smiled, “thank you for telling me.”

“Wake her and feed her.” Yoongi said, walking to the door, Spice following him closely. She watched as Yoongi’s eyes looked for your sleeping form. “Tell her we love her a lot. That she needs to be strong and healthy to explore the woods with Joon and to help us with spring pies.” Yoongi shook his head. “Maybe ignore the pies.”

Jeongguk nodded. “Joon will bring her to the cottage soon. I’ll be having a busy week starting Monday.”

“Great. See you, Gukkie.” Yoongi said, finally ready to leave.

From the smell of coffee and leather, you felt what could only be Spice’s hand touching your face. “Stay safe, baby.” She told you, still thinking you were asleep.

Underneath all those layers, Spice was a sweetheart, after all. It made your heart clench.

“Bye Guk.” She said, shortly before you heard the door close.

He sat beside you and Bibby. “Open your eyes, Sweets. You need to eat your dinner.”

You pouted and stretched, sitting up. “I’m going to the cottage?”

“Namjoon will pass by on Sunday to pick you up.” Jeongguk said, incapable of hiding some envy. He wanted to go to the cottage too. It was beautiful to see how much a day can make a difference in the woods in spring.

You nodded, already comforted by the thought of sharing some time with one of the people you respected and trusted the most, in his lovely cottage, among his plants and paintings and books. It was the most healing place in the universe. “Can I have some pizza?” You asked, sniffing at the inviting scent in the air.

Jeongguk smiled at your question, significantly happy with your request. “Of course.”

“How are you? Did you sleep a little?” Grace asked, getting a glass of water and some biscuits for Seokjin.

He smiled at the young woman but sneered at the food, almost hissing. He felt ready to throw up his guts. He felt disgusting.

“Not much.” He said, rubbing his arms. He felt so cold.

Grace shook her head. “You should eat.”

Seokjin looked out of the window, the orange afternoon sun hurting his eyes. Two more hours. Saturday dinner alone. He tried to find the words, the right words.

He realised there weren’t any.

“I miss her, Grace.” Jin placed his elbows on the table and planted his forehead against his palms. “I miss her too much.”

Grace nodded and stood up. She walked to the window and stood there, with her back to Jin. “Everyone. Everyone in this town knows. Everyone.” She paused. Seokjin waited. She didn’t speak with anger or sadness. She simply spoke, like one who knew.

“Everyone knows about you and her, about how perfect you look together. But she didn’t even consider you. You always cared for her, but who cared for you? Who made breakfast and dinner and the laundry and the cleaning for you?” Grace seemed upset now. “She never made a move, though. Everyone knew, but sometimes only one person really, actually knows.” She turned around. She had a small smile on, a bitter one, maybe. “Because you weren’t hers, I made a move. And I never expected you would take me into consideration, all the girls — and the boys — who have tried never succeeded. How would I?” Again she paused. “But I did it. Somehow.”

Seokjin nodded. “You are a great person, Grace. You’re smart, kind, beautiful. And you’re dedicated, and I was attracted to you since the first time I saw you.”

“But I’m not her, am I?” She said, so gentle; the kind of gentleness that you use with strangers, to keep them at a distance.

“You’re not her, and there are pros and cons to this, just like for any other people.” Seokjin replied politely.

Grace nodded as she paced back and forth. She grabbed a biscuit and she ate it unhurriedly, still pacing, chewing it slowly.

“I tried to move on.” Seokjin explained, “but maybe I’m not ready.”

Grace bobbed her head. “Fair. After all I could be only a carer.” She admitted. “I think I took pity on you, but never truly loved you.” Her expression looked sad but honest.

Seokjin pursed his lips. “We both deserve better than dull pity, may it be giving or receiving.”

“I thought pity would suffice. We could be great friends and then grow into something more than that. But some friendships don’t evolve like the one you have with her.” Grace sat down in front of her guest. Her boyfriend. Soon to be her ex.

Their time together was coming to an end, each second inevitable like the ticking of the clock.

“I hope you don’t feel insulted, or disrespected.” Seokjin confessed, his tone of voice extremely apologetic.

“We both got into this with the wrong intentions. I think we both deserve the best and we clearly will not get it from each other. You need her, and I'm just a detour on your way to her—”

“Please, don't think that I didn't care about you.” He said, with so much pain in his voice. He was so disappointed in himself.

“I know you cared. Maybe you still care, but I know you wouldn't be here if she were an option.” Grace said, her voice honest, a bit harsh maybe, but with no suffering or aggression.

“Don't think I chose you because I couldn't have her. Among several options, I still chose you, because you were the one I liked the most, because I could fall in love with you. And I still like you, but I didn't fall. And I'm not sure that will happen.” Seokjin spoke with transparent unequivocality.

“It would be stupid for us to continue down this path. We would just lie to each other, unless we accept that our relationship will be based on fondness and nothing more.” Grace explained clearly.

Seokjin pouted. “We're too young for fondness.”

“We are.” Grace agreed. “But you need to tell her, Jin. You must tell her. You're hurting for a separation you could have absolutely avoided. At least, if you have to suffer, do it for the right reason.” Grace had a clarity in her that Seokjin had come to respect. He knew someone would love it someday. Someone would take care of her and cherish her and adore her and worship her with her gifts and imperfections. Someone could even love the scent of tuberoses that always lingered on her skin.

“I think we're ready to say goodbye.” She mused. “Although I would love it if we could still be friendly around each other. I don't wanna say 'let's stay friends' because that could be hypocritical of me right now, but I think I'd be very happy if we could still say hi and chat at the bakery when I stop by.”

“I think I'd be proud to call you my friend, when you feel ready for that. Still, you don't have to do that. I understand I hurt you—”

“No offense, but you didn't hurt me. I already knew what I was getting myself into. I think I've always known you would never be mine. A part of me was ready for this to happen and I think that's what's keeping this from being hurtful or insulting or whatever. We have been clear from the very start.”

“I wasn't clear about her.” Seokjin's eyes watered. He felt like he didn't deserve Grace's mercy and understanding.

“Anyone and everyone could tell. You were clear with anything but words. Plus I knew, and still I let it happen.” Grace took Seokjin's hand in hers. “It's not your fault. You're not alone.”

He didn't know when it happened but somehow he was crying, weeping like a baby, sobbing and sniffling.

Grace rose and walked to his chair, standing behind him, placing both her hands on his shoulders, rubbing them energetically. “You’re gonna be alright, Jin. Just go and fix all this mess with her. Talk to her please or I swear I'm gonna hate you. Don't make all this pain useless.” The young woman hugged him and kissed his head. “Stop telling yourself you don't deserve her. Stop being paranoid about her turning you down. Have you ever considered her giving you a chance?” She spoke with a soothing tone, something that he knew would make her a great mother someday. He could see himself kicking his own butt and begging Grace to take him back, were he ever to learn how to love her.

However, a part of his brain told him that loving Grace was something he could never learn, just like he never had to learn how to love you.

“You're one smart, beautiful woman, you know?” He asked, patting Grace's hands with his. “I hope you get someone who can love you the way you need.”

Grace nodded. “The same to you, dear. Now go get your lady or I'm going to castrate you.”

He squeaked out a teary laugh before standing up. “Are you okay with me hugging you?”

She smiled and nodded.

The embrace held for maybe half a minute before she whispered 'go, quick', like her gut was telling her something.

Seokjin smiled before winking and running out of the building.

You were grateful for the umbrella. You knew that soon the light drizzle would become a full storm and with all your heart you hoped you had enough time to carry your stuff to Yoongi’s pub, Ginger’s, and save yourself from the rain.

You were eager to get your stuff ready. All you wanted was for it to be Sunday already, for the energy of the woods to restore your soul and offer a safe haven to your mourning body.

You wanted the slightly damp spring days, the blossoms on the trees and the light green new leaves. You longed to see the lawns become once more verdant, filled with daisies and the frolicking of bees and butterflies.

However, for now you were stuck in the cold, humid weather, not a hint of spring in sight.

With a slight pout you entered your building, climbing the stairs in a path you could walk with your eyes closed.

The keys indented your skin uncomfortably, your hold too tight.

You slipped the right one in quickly, trying to make the errand as brief as possible.

Once you entered, you took off your shoes. You didn’t want to stain Seokjin’s floor, especially considering how he always took care of it, spending extra time in treating the hardwood boards with special products to keep them glossy and vibrant in their splendid maroon colour.

You completely avoided looking at the kitchen, walking to your room and finding the last bag of clothes resting on the bed, still made with three-week-old sheets. You wondered whether it was a good idea for you to wash them, but once you were reminded you would be gone for a whole week, maybe more, you shook your head and went on with your tasks, cleaning up your desk once you noticed the dust on it.

Your tiny bookcase was halfway empty, the only things left some old books you read during your first year and tiny trinkets.

A can of cherry coke from your first trip to the lake with the guys; a tattoo Jeongguk had designed for you a long time ago, waiting for you to finally find the guts to get it done; granny’s recipe for her special apple pie; a picture of you and Seokjin at the bakery’s fiftieth anniversary, a small buttercup flower dried and pressed into the framed picture; another photo, this one from your birthday, the guys surrounding you in a group hug, and Seokjin staring from the distance, his eyes glimmering with something your mouth will never speak.

You were slowly spiralling into despair when you heard the door unlock.

Dread grabbed your insides and twisted them tight, your hands unconsciously snatching the bag, switching off the lights before you tried to run out of your room, hoping it was just a projection of your exhausted brain.

It wasn’t.

There, on the entry mat stood Seokjin, drenched head to toe.

You stared at each other for a second.

“Hi.” He said.

He looked a mess. “Are you alright?”

He bent forward, his hands on his knees, his chest heaving with laboured breathing as he shook his head.

He knelt on the floor.

He shook his head some more.

You stood paralysed in front of him.

“I could use a friend.” He whispered, right before you dropped your bag and fell to your knees right in front of him, pressing his face to your chest. “You said you would never leave me alone. You promised.” He sobbed, hugging you to his body. “You promised.” He repeated, your clothes getting wet as they touched his.

“I’m sorry Jinnie. I’m so sorry, honey.” You replied, tearing up yourself. “Come in, let’s get you warm and dry.”

He refused. “Don’t go.”

“I’m not going, Jinnie. Come in.” You spoke softly.

“Swear on your cocoa that you won’t leave.” He required.

“I swear on the cocoa, now please come in, I don’t want you to catch a cold, Jin. Please.”

Reluctantly he followed your lead.

“You should get changed.” You said, cupping his cheek as the two of you stood one in front of the other.

His skin felt too hot.

“I don’t want to get you out of my sight.” He said, hugging you again.

You were both drenched by now. “We both need to get changed.”

He pouted. “You get in the bathroom. I wait outside. I can get changed while you’re in.” He said, sure that you were too smart — and too lazy — to jump out of the window.

“I won’t run.” You said, trying to reassure him.

“What if you change your mind?” He insinuated with an accusing, hurt tone.

You gave up. “Okay, I’ll get changed in the bathroom.” You conceded, grabbing your duffel bag and walking in the room, closing the door behind you.

You changed quickly, trying to show him you were invested in staying as little away from him as possible.

“I’m ready.” You called, waiting to open the door. You didn’t want to see something you weren’t meant to.

“Yes, you can come out.” He said.

As you opened the door, the first thing you noticed was his bare chest, wide, immense before your eyes.

You averted your gaze as he slipped on a sweater. He hugged you again. “I’m cold.” He murmured.

Your heart couldn’t handle that. “Let’s get on the sofa.”

“I don’t have a blanket anymore.” He said, looking at you with eyes so big, so lost and emotional.

You shook your head and entered his bedroom, grabbing his comforter carelessly. “Let’s go.”

He smiled and followed you, sitting down and dragging you onto his lap.

“Seokjin.” You reprimanded, thinking of the last time you had seen him.

“What?” He asked, fixing the covers around the two of you, holding you so tight you almost couldn’t breathe.

“What about Grace.” You said, not even a question, just a distant, unemotional statement.

“No more. I left her, Buttercup.” He said, nuzzling his nose into your hair. “I left her.”

You smelled so good.

You always smelled so good.

He kissed your neck. You tasted good too.

“Jinnie.”

“We’ll talk in the morning. I just need to sleep next to you. Please, Buttercup.” He begged, so tired and so adorably undeniable.

“Let’s sleep then.”

----------------------------------------------

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7 (7/7)

#kim seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bangtanhq #thetruthuntoldnet #seokjin fluff #seokjin angst #Baker!seokjin #bts fanfiction #bts blog #Seokjin flatmates!Au #seokjin friends to lovers

[chilly-me-softly]

Every Little Thing’s Gonna Be Alright • Chapter 1

And there it is another fic! I’m so excited about this idea so I hope you’ll like it as much as me. I’ll update once a week, every monday around this time, because this way I can continue writing without pressure (don’t worry six chapters are already waiting to be read). So enjoy it! 

-

When he opened the door that afternoon he would never have expected that. Ben stares at the girl in front of him. Lost, trying to absorb as much of what he has in front of him as possible. He thinks that his ears even shut for a few seconds because of the surprise, he hasn't seen her for months and now he even starts to put two and two together. All those strange excuses for not going to see him or their parents, the strange feeling that something was wrong. All because she was busy hiding that secret, all because she's pregnant.

"Ben" he must look like a fool, standing there with his mouth open. His hand tightened on the door handle, while the girl looks at him intimidated but also confident in a positive reaction, hoping that their lifelong bond won't shake just because of... that.

He moves away from the door without saying anything, allowing her to enter, but without ever moving his eyes from her belly. How far along could she be, six months more or less? He asks himself. And then he steps forward to take the duffel bag from her hands, but she shakes her head bringing it more towards her body. "Oh no it's fine, it's not that heavy" she smiles and silence falls again in that entrance. The two of them look at each other don't saying a word.

"Ben, hey you got lost?" a voice comes from the hallway, closer and closer, till a head appears from the living room where she and the boy were just before enjoying a quiet evening before the doorbell rang.

Ben clears his throat, "I'm here. Ehm Deb, do you remember my sister Evelyn?"

"Oh Evelyn right! Hey nice to finally meet you in person" the girl stops a few steps away from both of them with a sincere smile on her lips. There were only a few times she had been able to have a conversation with her boyfriend's sister - the fact their relationship had started a little less than a year earlier and that the girl no longer lived nearby had mainly contributed - but she had heard so much about her through Ben.

"Come on, don't just stand there, come and sit down! I can guess your back will be grateful" and she tries to mediate in that situation capturing the tension that is forming between the two of them. Someone has to do it and considering that Ben seems to be lost in his head and never even mentioned that he was going to be an uncle, well it seems like it's up to her.

The newcomer smiles sincerely, letting the girl guide her to the sofa, where she sits carefully. And she would expect to be followed by her brother but that doesn't happen and it kind of hurts a bit, I mean she thought something like that would happen but it still hurts.

"Make yourself comfortable while I go get something to drink. Is water okay?" Deb gesticulates talking fast and backwards in the meantime, while Evelyn nods distractedly, having no time to react in any other way.

She has to understand what's going through Ben's head and also quite quickly, so she takes him by the hand dragging him into the kitchen while he's taking his time entering the living room.

"Ben, hey. Are you okay?" she asks gently, caressing his cheek and looking at him carefully. His gaze seems to be lost somewhere and when his eyes look at hers, something seems to click into him.

"She is..."

"Pregnant? No offence, but it's clear" she finishes the sentence earning the first real reaction from him who looks at her badly.

"Sorry, but it's the truth"

"She's been away so long and then now... Why didn't she tell anyone?"

"I don't know Ben, I don't know" she sighs, too, not breaking eye contact, "But now she's here, at your place. There must be a reason, right? Don't you want to know?" her thumb doesn't stop moving on his cheek and together with her sweet voice she really hopes it will reassure him someway.

He nods sighing, not hinting at moving though. "Listen, I can go if you want to talk to her alone"

"No. There's no need to, really. You can stay"

"Okay" Deb gets up on her toes, leaving a kiss on his lips before moving away and doing the task for which she went to the kitchen in the first place. After filling the glass she takes Ben's hand and he lets himself be carried away to his sister.

He would never really say that, that he would be afraid to talk to his own sister. Not even when they were fighting as children. He was angry with her, he teased her to make her nervous, but he had never, ever felt so nervous. And she certainly didn't feel any less, looking around to ease some tension while waiting, a hand caressing her belly distractedly.

"Sorry for the wait" Deb hands her the glass that Evelyn accepts with a slight smile, turning it over in her hands and being careful not to spill it.

She and Ben sit on the other side of that L-shaped couch and Evelyn has a sense of deja-vu for a moment, when she found herself in a similar situation with her parents when she announced she was leaving not long before. Now the situation is slightly different with the two guys in place, but she always feels the same way. Nervous and trembling, but also ready to take the brunt of her decision.

"You don't have to talk to me if you don't want Benny, but at least listen to me... please"

"I know I should say something and I assure you I have a lot of questions to ask you, but I... how, when, why?" mutters Ben, his look passing from his sister's face to her belly and back.

She nods as Ben passes his hand over his face sighing and Deb gently squeezes her hand on his leg to transmit her presence.

"I don't know where to start, God" Evelyn takes a deep breath and stretches herself slightly to place the glass on the table in front of her.

"I met this person some time ago. It was like love at first sight, we spent a lot of time together and I really believed I could build something for the long term you know" her gaze shakes for an instant at the memory of the last few months, "and then we... you know, we slept together and then again and-"

"I don't... want to know this part" interrupts Ben, even though he's not a saint in that sense he doesn't want to imagine his sister sleeping with a guy. Especially if he got the end of the story right.

"And I got pregnant, Ben" she continues, "I got pregnant and he didn't want to deal with it. He was quite clear about it and I even humiliated myself in front of him, so much so that for a while I even struggled to recognise myself" she shakes her head lowering it and looking at an indefinite spot on the carpet under her feet.

"Why did you keep this from us? Why didn't you tell me?" Ben's question resonates in that room as if he spoke into a microphone, loud and clear. While Deb remains there, helpless to listen while various emotions flow inside her, both for the girl and especially for Ben who knows better between the two of them. But everyone at that moment could pick up the pain in his voice.

"I was fired. In my contract there was this clause... I shouldn't have had children at least for the first two years of work for the company and when I signed it I didn't mind at all because no boyfriend, no children. And then, well, no job, no house..."

"You know you can stay here as long as you want" he cuts her off and her heart aches for a moment, even though he's her brother and she knows him she wasn't so sure he wouldn't turn his back on her.

"I told you all it was the right thing to do, that I had to do it to start living my life. To cope with everything on my own. And instead I let everyone down. Pregnant at twenty-two, alone and without a home or a job. How could I come back?!"

"We're your family, we would have been there for you anyway. I would have supported you anyway"

"I was wrong, I know. And every day passing it was harder and harder to go back. I'm sorry, it looks like mum was right after all anyway"

"No" Ben gets up from his seat to crouch down in front of his sister, "no hey, look at me. I know mum was always afraid to let us go. Especially you being her little girl. But you made your own choices, to grow up, you said so yourself. It's only fair that we make our own choices and our own mistakes"

"This is more than a mistake"

"She'll understand, you just have to talk to her"

"I can't"

"Yes you can, you have me by your side... forever, no matter what" a tear falls on her cheek, promptly wiped away by Ben's thumb smiling reassuringly.

"You can stay in the guest room for as long as you want, Deb and I will help you with whatever you may need for you and for the baby"

"Can we talk about this another time? I'd be a little tired"

"Sure, sure. Go and rest now" one last caress before he gets up and lets her do the same. Deb smiles at her as she passes by and Ben follows her with his gaze.

"Lyn" he calls her back one last time before she can disappear into the guest room, she turns around and he wraps his arms around her.

"I should have done it as soon as I saw you"

----

Tag: @emwritesfootball @alexajanecollins 

Chapter 2 

#every little thing's gonna be alright #my writing #original #football imagine #football imagines #ben chilwell #ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell imagines #jack grealish #jack grealish imagines #jack grealish imagine

[wasithard]

my self esteem is through the roof right now (thank you @vinylpaperclip​) i’m just gonna post the whole “australian!annabeth” fic here even though i think its wildly out of character based on the fact that annabeth is absolutely a self-insert for myself but who cares!!!!! 

in case it isnt clear footy = football and in this case is referring to the great game of rugby league. i apologise in advance for the ending which is just....a whole lot of cheese. enjoy!

She really did bring a footy jersey all the way with her to England, even though it was going to be seen by exactly zero other people as she watched the game by herself in her room.

But hey, it feels like home, and from the excited text she gets from her brothers in response to the photo she sends them of her in it lets her know that she made them smile, which makes it worth it.

They’re halfway into the first half, Blues up by 2, when her phone dings.

 Dumbass: are you around i’m bored

You: watching the footy you may join me but no talking this is important

Dumbass: if it’s australian football it’s not important but sure

When she opens the door for him a few minutes later Percy squints at her.

“Are you wearing a jersey? Did you bring a jersey all the way here?” He sounds incredulous.

“Gotta support the boys!” She says in reply, turning around and racing back to her bed and her laptop so she doesn’t miss anymore game time.

Annabeth hears Percy shut the door before he joins her, poking her in the side to get her to make room for him on the bed. She shuffles over and he settles in beside her, stretching an arm behind her as she sinks into his side.

“Oh, it’s rugby league. That’s acceptable at least.”

“What did you think I was watching?” She asks him, eyes not leaving the screen.

“I thought you were going to make me sit through your country’s sorry excuse for soccer.”

“You know what, I’m not even going to try and defend us on that one.”

He chuckles, “Good.”

They fall into a silence and Annabeth is wholly focused on the game. She fills Percy in on the importance of this game, the long, intense rivalry of the teams, who her favourite and least favourite players are. For his part, he seems to actually care, or does a good job of pretending.

At half time he raises his eyebrows, “This is actually pretty entertaining.”

“Well duh,” she says, turning to face him, “We’re world number 1s and this is an all-stars match.”

“I don’t know about world number ones,” he says. The smile on his face tells her he’s just trying to rile her up, but she can’t help herself.

“We literally won the World Cup last year.”

“Home ground advantage. Doesn’t count.”

She’s smiling as she shakes her head, “Shut up.”

“Make me.” He says, and she doesn’t miss the way his eyes flick to her lips for the briefest of seconds.

It sends butterflies shooting through her stomach, and she’s suddenly very much aware of all the places he’s touching her. She loves it, this game they’ve been playing for the past couple of weeks, dancing around each other. She only loves it, she thinks, because she knows he feels the same.

There’s no mystery about either of their feelings for each other, the question is only when they’ll crack and act on them.

Not right now, she thinks to herself, I haven’t waited this long for our first kiss not to be romantic.

She grabs a pillow from her other side and whacks his face with it, laughing at the exclamation she gets out of him.

He grabs her and smothers her with it. She manages to blindly locate his armpit and starts tickling him there. Maybe not the most graceful way of getting him off of her, but it works.

“Did you just tickle me?!”

“Yes and if you try to do it back I can’t promise that I won’t draw blood.” She states simply, getting up from the bed and walking to the kitchenette. “Hungry?” She asks.

“Surely you know the answer to that.”

She rolls her eyes but she’s smiling, “I’ve only got snacks. Do you want chips or bread?”

He rolls onto his back, his head hanging off the side of the bed as he watches her, “Will that bread have Vegemite on it?”

“You know it will!” Her voice is cheery from inside a cupboard as she brings out her 1kg tub of Vegemite.

“Have I told you how happy I am that you recognise the sheer deliciousness of Vegemite?” She says, passing him a plate with two slices of Vegemite-lathered bread as she returns to the bed.

“Yes, many times.”

“Well, I’m telling you again. I’m so glad you have taste, unlike everyone else in this country who thinks Marmite is edible.”

“It’s a gift.” He says, grinning through a mouthful of bread. She scrunches her nose in disgust and fetches her laptop from the end of her bed.

“Perfect timing,” she mutters as the game restarts for the second half. They settle into their comfortable silence again, the only sounds the voices of the commentators, their mouths chewing the bread and Annabeth’s occasional gasps and muttered curses.

He takes their plates when they’re done and puts them on the floor next to the bed. They rearrange themselves so that she’s leaning against him again and this time his arm rests around her waist, hand laying on her hip.

It starts as nothing, but at some point his hand finds his way under the thick, blue cotton of her jersey and onto the smooth warmth of her skin underneath.

She hears her own sharp intake of breath and wishes her body wouldn’t be so obvious about the effect Percy has on her. He sounds genuinely worried when he says, “Sorry, should I–”

“No! No, you’re fine.” She says, glancing at him in reassurance, “It’s nice.”

Nice, she thinks, ugh. But she refocuses on the game, his hand a weight burning into her side.

They sit a few more minutes until he rubs his thumb slowly upwards along her stomach, and Annabeth thinks she might die. Involuntarily, she inhales again.

She can hear a small smile in Percy’s voice when he asks, “You ok?”

She doesn’t trust her voice so she nods and hums the affirmative, but her breathing is shallow.

“Ok,” he says, and brings his head down to rest on her shoulder, lips brushing the top of her back. She fights the urge to tense her body in anticipation and instead turns on him. He jerks back in surprise.

“Actually, you’re being distracting. I’m going to need to you stop this until the game is over.”

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk curling his lips. “I’m distracting am I?”

“Yep,” she says, turning back around, “I already said it, not saying it again.”

“What about what I’m doing is distracting you, ‘Beth?” He asks, bringing his head back down to near her shoulder.

“I’m not talking about this while there’s a game on, unfortunately.”

“Ok I’ll just chill here then.”

“Unfortunately, you can’t do that either.”

“Should I leave then?”

“Nope.”

“Well…”

She huffs in frustration, “Percy!” She turns towards him, mouth open to berate him but the words get stuck in her throat at the way he is positively beaming at her. She hates him for it. She falls a little more in love with him for it.

She exhales, deflating. “Why now?” She asks.

He tilts his head, “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she turns her body so that she’s fully facing him now, the game momentarily forgotten. “Why now of all times to be so forward?”

She can see his brain thinking, oh ok so we’re actually talking about this now, as he blinks a few times. “Why not?”

She thinks about spitting some more banter about how she’s in the middle of a very important rugby game and it’s actually quite rude of him to interrupt her with this but decides instead to try and be honest, to let herself be vulnerable. Because if one thing has become clear to her over the months she’s been living in England, is that she can trust this man in front of her. He’s listened to her talk about architecture and Australian politics just as intently as he’s listened to her tell him about her parents and step-family and her attempts to start living a life for herself instead of a life to try and please the people around her.

Her voice is small when she responds. “Why me?” 

She’s staring at him with an openness that scares her a little bit, but she feels a bit better when she sees his entire body soften.

Percy’s gaze searches hers for a moment, the expression on his face as if he’s asking, are you joking? 

He shakes his head a little in disbelief, “Because, Annabeth, how could I know you and not be desperately in love with you?”

A sound falls out of her, like she’s released a weight she’s been holding for years. She hesitates for one last moment before both of her hands reach out and grab his shirt, pulling him close and capturing his lips with hers, because she has to. 

His words are ones she’s been wishing to hear for years, a suggestion of a romance she’s been blindly, naively hoping she’ll find one day. She kisses him with the force of twenty-two years of yearning for someone to see her and love her as she is; she kisses him with the relief of finally finding it.

His arms come around her and hug her closer to him and her hands slide up his chest and around his neck, pulling herself into his lap so that they are flush against each other. She’s not sure how long they’re kissing, but when she eventually pulls back they’re both out of breath. Her hair is hanging around them both like a curtain, enclosing them in their own world where they are totally lost in this moment, in each other. His eyes are sparkling up at her and there’s a beautiful redness to his cheeks that make his eyes shine even brighter. She brings her hands up to cup his face, thumbs tracing his cheeks, and he just stares and stares until she closes the space between them again with one more long, searing kiss. One that she feels deep in her belly.

He rolls them over so they’re lying next to each other on the bed when they break apart again, and she keeps one hand resting on his face as they just look at each other, entranced.

An eruption of cheers from the tinny laptop speakers snaps her out of her daze. She bolts upright and checks the score – it’s full time and the Blues have won the game. She shouts with joy, shuts the laptop and tosses it to the end of the bed before falling back down next to him.

“I guess I’ve won twice today.” She says, shuffling closer so that her nose brushes his.

“Well, congratulations,” He says, “What’s the prize?”

She smiles slowly, her lips taking time to break apart and expose her grinning teeth. His eyes follow the movement, and his soft exhale as her smile grows bigger fills her chest with a golden warmth.

“He’s right here,” is all she says before leaning in again.

#here she is #im gonna go have a nap now bye #also if anyone cares/understands yes she is watching state of origin #percabeth fic #percabeth #pjo #hi i wrote a thing #i cant think of a title for this sorryyyyy

[alternateafterthought]

Golden Time - Part 12

> Pairing: Hybrid Jeon Jungkook x Reader

> Summary: Y/N has been rescuing and recovering hybrids her entire life. Now she has inherited her grandparents hybrid sanctuary. It was a normal rescue, get the hybrid, recover him and give him a choice, stay on the sanctuary or find a life for himself. Why was this one so different?

> Genre: Hybrid!au, romance, smut, angst, fluff

> Warnings: Swearing

> Word Count: 1417

> A/N: Hey guys... here is the next part of my Jungkook hybrid fic!! It’s getting a little darker as it nears the end of the story!! I really hope you guys are enjoying it!! ALSO those who wish to be added to an eventual tag list, please leave a comment or an ask or message me!! Thank you so much for your support!!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11]

HYBRID SERIES LAWS

Y/N was cold. Her head throbbed, the ground beneath her was solid, uneven, and completely uncomfortable. It was not something anyone living and breathing should be lying on. And yet her body curled into herself, her hands moving to hold her head as it ached.

Blinking, trying and failing to open her eyes, even in what seemed like a dimly lit room. Y/N's eyes barely opened, squinting, only making out shadows and shapes, and it wasn't promising. Nothing in her line of vision as she tried to sit up was a good sight.

Finally dragging her cold, limp body against the even colder wall, Y/N finally started to focus. Her eyes skimmed her surrounding, she was in a cage, a cell, metal bars kept her in the cell. Her hands felt around her, she could recognise what she sat on, cement held this cell up, causing her to shiver.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught movement. A thin shadow moved slightly, from what Y/N could make out, the shadow moved backwards. Away from Y/N.

"Who's there?" Y/N voice was scratchy, she needed water.

The shadow stood frozen, crouched into itself and avoiding Y/N. They seemed to think if they didn't move, Y/N wouldn't think they were there. But in a place like this, Y/N would never let her guard down.

"Hello? Who the fuck is there?" Y/N aggressively growled, needing whoever was there to come forth.

Y/N did not, for the life of her, expect to recognise the huddled figure. In the life Y/N had chosen to life, to protect those that needed it most, she would never have expected to see then here.

"The fuck are you doing here?"

xxx

Jungkook was looking forward to getting home. Home... he finally had a home. A home he was proud of. A home he could come home to and be welcomed honestly and completely.

He had found his home.

At 6 o'clock Jungkook and Mr Astor finished in the fields. They decided to walk back to their homes, enjoying the lasting setting sun. Mr Astor saw Jungkook eyeing something in front of the many houses they walked between. With a knowing smile, Mr Astor moved towards the houses and asked if he could take some, before saying goodbye and catching back  up to a stunned Jungkook.

"For your mate." Mr Astor smiled widely, handing Jungkook the flowers. "These are her favourites."

Jungkook smiled down at the small bouquet of sunflowers. They were bright and beautiful and Jungkook just knew that they suited Y/N.

"They mean adoration, loyalty and longevity." Mr Astor continued as they both walked past houses getting closer together. "Y/N always thought that sunflowers would make anyone happy, bring joy. And she always wants to bring joy to people, especially to those who enjoy it. And you seem to bring her joy."

"Do you think so?" Jungkook looked up at the old man who had become like a grandfather to him, wanting his approval as much as anyone's to be with Y/N.

"My boy," Mr Astor put his arm around Jungkook with a soft smile. "I have never seen Y/N smile as brightly as she does when she looks at you. It reminds me of when I first meet my wife."

Jungkook blushed, his hands holding onto the flowers tightly. Jungkook wanted to make Y/N smile. He had always promised to never make her sad, only to see brighter days with her.

When he stepped onto the path to home he expected to see Y/N. Maybe out on the porch waiting for him. Maybe coming out to greet him and Mr Astor.

What he didn't expect was to see the 2 hybrids Y/N was talking about at lunch. The shorter of the two sat on the steps of the porch, his ears twitching, his sharp eyes focusing onto Jungkook as he heard him approach. The other, who had smiled and wave the first time he had seen Jungkook was for the first time not smiling. His ears were alert, his eyes scanning the area, his nose twitching, trying to catch a scent.

"Jungkook..."

The flowers in Jungkook's hand fell, now lying in the middle of the path. Forgotten. Cold. Wilting away.

xxx

Y/N couldn't believe what she was seeing, having to blink a few times. The back of her pale, almost purple hands rubbed her eyes a few time before looking back at the hunched figure.

The thin, frail body, sat rigid in the ever present darkness of the cell. But their eyes. Their eyes were lifeless, having witnessed horror to land themselves in here. Y/N didn't want to think it, but maybe they deserved it. Though Y/N knew that no one deserved to be locked up, caged like an animal... even if they acted worse then a wild animal.

Mrs Bonavich hugged her boney knees to her chest, her eyes were avoiding all contact with Y/N. She saw that Mrs Bonavich seemed to be bitting her nails, she couldn't see much in the dark, but she knew the movement. The nervous tick to bite her nails was enough to make anyone rethink their situation.

The cell was bad enough, but a woman like Mrs Bonavich scared and nervous? Y/N needed to get out of here.

"Where are we?" Y/N asked, her quiet voice echoing in the dark room.

Mrs Bonavich merely shrugged her thinning shoulders. Her eyes scanning quickly over Y/N and away again, towards the cage door. It was like she was scared to speak, scared to move to fast. Even if she was very twitchy and fidgety.

"Do you at least know who bought us here?" Y/N asked again, her hushed voice hurting. "Why they have us?"

Again, Mrs Bonavich avoided answering, turning to the cell door. Y/N caught on, she was waiting, listening to hear if anyone was coming. But from where Y/N sat, you would easily be able to hear anyone moving towards them. The echo of the footsteps would be too easy to hear... so what was Mrs Bonavich really waiting for?

"You're going to be loads of fun to be stuck in here with." Y/N huffed out a breath.

Sooner, rather then later, Y/N's eyes adjusted to the dark. She could see where she was, though there wasn't much to actually see. Mrs Bonavich hadn't moved from her place in the corner of the cell. The cell itself wasn't all that big, but dark enough it was difficult to see too far in front of her.

The only source of light was coming from outside the cell, an almost gross green light coming from the left. The walls were once white, if the stains were anything to go by, dirt and blood and from the smell of it something unpleasant sat on the walls.

This was an animal cage. Y/N was now one of the caged animals.

xxx

"Jeon Jungkook," The panther hybrid moved off the porch steps, stalking towards Jungkook who stood frozen in the middle of the path.

"You're scaring him." The dog hybrid pulled the other back a little bit, putting on an easy smile. "Jungkook, I'm Hoseok. This is Yoongi. We're two of Y/N oldest friends."

"We were the first hybrids she ever rescued." Yoongi nodded, looking away down the driveway then back to Jungkook, blinking a few times. "We need to talk to you."

Jungkook merely nodded. His ears standing straight up, his leg bouncing a few times, trying not to panic. What was going on?

"Mr Astor," Both of them greeted the elder man. "Something has happened." Yoongi continued.

"Y/N was supposed to check in nearly 4 hours ago. We haven't heard from her and came to check in. Then we checked the cameras." Hoseok  balled his fists, hitting them against his leg.

"Someone took her." Yoongi placed a hand on Hoseok shoulder, stopping him from hitting his leg. "We need you to look at the video. See if you recognise anyone."

"Why me?" Jungkook barely whispered.

"We are on lockdown." Hoseok gestured to their home. "We are keeping you and everyone safe. Y/N's orders."

"Y/N has personally dealt with all of our past. She is currently dealing with yours." Yoongi folded his arms. "She doesn't want anything to happen to you. She wanted you to be safe."

"But someone from your past has come to make sure that doesn't happen." Hoseok looked from Mr Astor to Jungkook. "We need your help to make sure Y/N is as safe as you are."

Jungkook nodded. Knowing it was the right thing to do. But even without seeing the video, Jungkook had a hunch to who it was.

They would never leave him alone. They never would.

They wanted Jungkook home.. Even if now his home wasn't with them. They still wanted him.

Tag List

@ariana-winchester95 | @haven-raven012591 | @jennyjq | @Iwannag0h0me-c0m | @cstobitk | @goldenbangtann | @patpus | @lorielulu7 | @bubbletaetaesstuff | @narcissism-iskey | @yoongisabby | @demonslunacy | @sana-b | @chanyeolol | @nanskidoodle | @gracehiii | @legazix | @mintyrae | @the-immortal-dreamer | @kb-bangtanenthusiast |

#bts #bts hybrid #bts hybrid fic #bts hybrid fluff #bts hybrid fanfic #bts hybrid smut #bts hybrids #bts hybrids fic #bts hybrids fanfic #bts hybrids fluff #jeon jungkook #jeon #jungkook #jk #jjk #hybrid jungkook #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hosoek #park jimin #kim taehyung #hybrid namjoon #hybrid seokjin #hybrid yoongi #hybrid hosoek #hybrid jimin #hybrid taehyung #hybrid #hybrid bts

[mcheang]

2 sperate fics: 1 with after Lila got exposed Alya is bitter and resentful at Mari for cutting ties with her former classmates and Mari's thriving career and Mari and new friends confront her on this angry grudge she's holding. the 2nd is similar but Marinette asking Lila why she did what she did and why she tried so hard to ruin Marinette for just trying to expose her

Part 1: Grow Up

I am so excited. This is my first request! Normally I post one fic per day, but I actually have a (spoiler!) double feature tmr, so what the heck. I hope this satisfies you. I will warn you that I will only answer half of your request in Part 2 because I already wrote a fic for why Lila lies, which I will post tmr. 🙂

It all came to a head at the next class president election.

The previous semester, the majority of the class had decided to vote for Lila to be class president after she expressed interest in it.

Alya ignored Marinette’s warnings and agreed to be that liar’s deputy.

Chloe and Sabrina played dirty of course. But a surprise came when Adrien supported Marinette as her deputy. Alya had been surprised then because she didn’t think he could spare the time. She didn’t know he knew Lila was a liar and that her reign would be intolerable at best.

Lila won, of course. Despite Sabrina providing evidence that Lila was a liar. The class believed it was all fabricated.

It wasn’t until later that Mrs Rossi forced Lila to tell the truth. Apparently Chloe managed to get the last laugh after all.

After that, the class pleaded for Marinette to take up her old post but she declined because she already made commitments to her new commissions on her website.

Apparently with Lila as class president and Alya as her deputy, Marinette had more free time, which she chose to spend with Adrien since he had also avoided Lila like the plague.

Life became worse. Lila would not be graduating at the end of the year and had detention for the rest of it besides. And all her promises about fabulous class trips and easy fundraising was false.

Without Marinette, the class field trips became commonplace museum tours. Fundraising was hard without her families’ free pastries.

To rub salt in the wound, Aurore had started her own blog. She interviewed Ladybug who finally expressed relief that someone questioned Lila’s interview.

After that, Rena Rouge and Carapace were replaced.

As Alya’s blog support dropped, MDC.com flew up the charts. Celebrities kept name dropping Marinette.

Audrey even gave her a raving review.

Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale hires Marinette to design their outfits for their joint tour.

Whenever Alya tried to talk to Marinette or get some time with her, her own deputy duties got in the way, or Marinette was busy with something else.

Alya wasn’t blind. She knew Chloe and Aurore had replaced her as Marinette’s BFF.

While the rest of the class had supported Lila, Marinette had her own clique: Adrien, Chloe, Sabrina, Alix, Nathaniel, Marc, and Aurore.

When the elections came up again, Alya wondered if Marinette would let her be her deputy again. But to her surprise, Chloe was the only candidate.

That was the last straw. Alya’s bitterness finally overflowed.

All she had wanted was her Best Friend back. To go back to the way things were. She wanted her blog to be popular again, she wanted to be a hero again, and she wanted Marinette to be her bestie again.

She didn’t know who this popular designer girl was.

Alya protested Chloe’s victory. Why should the class bully be nominated. It should be Marinette. They had done such an awesome job last time.

To Alya’s surprise, it wasn’t Chloe who shut her down. It was Ms Bustier.

She gently admonished Alya for not giving Chloe a chance.

Marinette even piped up that she was too busy. Besides, she believes Chloe will make a good class rep.

Alya wanted to scream. Instead, she sat back down next to her embarrassed Boyfriend. Ugh, couldn’t he be more supportive?

At lunch, as Alya sat with Nino, Kim, Ivan and Mylene, Marinette and her posse came over.

“Alya, what’s gotten into you?” Marinette looked so disappointed. Ha. She’s got some nerve. “How could you say those stuff about Chloe?”

Alya snapped back, “How could I? How could you? How can you all stand there and forget all the mean things Chloe has done.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “I’m standing right here, you know.”

Adrien said gently, “people change, Alya. And Chloe has changed for the better.”

“But Marinette has changed for the worse!” Alya finally yelled, causing even her own table to stare at her.

While Marinette looked stunned by the accusation, her friends looked furious.

“Excuse me?” Alix demanded.

Alya finally let loose the tirade Caline had build a dam over. “Last time, Marinette was the kind of girl who made time for everyone, who helped everyone, who stood up to bullies. But you...” she shook her head at Marinette. “I don’t even recognise you anymore, girl.”

Sabrina made the first defense. “Marinette doesn’t have to help everyone. It is her decision. You do not get to pressure her like that.”

Marc added, “Yeah, besides she still helps us when she can. She helped us to come up with costume designs for our comics.”

Nathaniel nodded. “And she does spend time with us. Sabrina’s right, Alya. Marinette is free to choose how to spend her time and with which friends she chooses to hang out with. Just because she doesn’t hang out with you anymore doesn’t mean you aren’t friends.”

Chloe sniffed, “Though with how you’ve been treating her, it’s no wonder Marinette moved on. Honestly Alya, you’re a crow. The moment you see something shiny, you fly away. And that’s what you did. When Lila came along in all her glitter, you had a choice to support 2 candidates and you made your choice.”

Aurore stared Alya down. “We all know why you want Marinette back. You want the security of your first year here. You want your blog back. But have you even thought about Marinette’s own feelings? Did you ever apologize for doubting her once Lila was exposed, without asking for anything in return? Did you ever ask her what she wanted before speaking for her? Did you even congratulate her for her success?”

No. Alya swallowed. No, she had not.

Marinette looked at Alya pityingly. “I had hoped you would adapt Alya, that you could see the good in others and let go of the past. But it’s time to face the facts. We can never go back to what we used to be. It’s time to grow up, Alya.”

And with her final word said, Marinette led her clique away. They were going to eat lunch at her place.

And they left Alya behind to pick up the scraps of what had remained of her life.

Part 2: here we are again

Lila was in the toilets again. This was her new haunting ground. Not the star of her entourage, sitting as if she were on a throne. Not with a trail of admirers following her to class. Here, in this stinky cubicle, listening to all the gossip.

Ever since Chloe outed Lila, the class had treated her like a pariah. Alya only talked to her when necessary, mostly to discuss their duties as president and deputy.

Honestly, Lila wished that goody 2 shoes would have replaced her. Hell, even Chloe would have been acceptable. At least then she would be left alone to stew in peace.

But no. Marinette was too busy now with her flourishing business. And Chloe refused to accept the position as second choice.

When Lila had snapped at Alya to just manage without her, Alya had growled back, “No way in (swear word) hell. You ruined my blog, and I’d sooner carry bowling balls to school than do your work for you.”

Lila had rolled her eyes then. “Like it’s my fault you’re a tabloid writer.”

“What did you say?!”

Long story short, Alya had called Mrs Rossi who threatened Lila with military school and no allowance unless she did her duties.

Lila did them. Her class was unappreciative of her hard work. She didn’t blame them. She had been on one of Marinette’s organised trips. She knew her own were mediocre.

Class funding had reached an all new low, too. No one wanted to support the lying president’s fundraisers.

Lila bore her class’ hatred with grace. Sure she had her time with an akuma but Hawkmoth can only keep targeting her so much before he moved on to Alya or some other dupe.

Besides, it was only a matter of time before she moved anyway. Lila could hold on until then. She just needed to be patient.

“Lila?” A knock on her cubicle door.

Lila had patience.

“What do you want?” Lila called back bitterly. “Here to finally gloat?”

“No,” Marinette answered calmly. “Just to get answers, and closure.”

Lila barked out a laugh. Why not? She might as well put an end to their feud. Lose with dignity.

“Ask away.”

There was a pause. Then, “Why? Why did you try so hard to bury me? Even when I stopped trying to point out the holes in your story, you still targeted me.”

It was a fair question.

Lila answered. “You were always a target, Marinette. No matter what you did, you would always have been.”

The ensuing silence was a request for more information.

Lila continued, “At every class I’ve been to, there is a leader. Someone with influence over the school. Someone to knock off their throne. Chloe may be the queen, but her only entourage is Sabrina. You’re the president and the class practically sings you praise. You were real competition. I targeted you before I even met you.”

And she had temporarily succeeded. Before, the classmates that would have once listened to Marinette, had hovered around Lila to answer her every beck and call. The power she had felt back then had felt so good.

“And this doesn’t have anything to do with Adrien?” Marinette was skeptical.

“Oh, I saw how close you were. And yes, you were my main competitor then too. Kagami was the other one. But thanks to Ladybug, he saw through me. You know he was the one to get me to make up that lying disability.”

“Yes, I know. Your story was very moving,” Marinette recalled with annoyance. Even her own Mother had easily forgiven Lila. “Is that all there was to it? Crush me so you could rule my class and win Adrien?”

Lila leaned back. “No, there’s one last thing. I don’t like loose threads. Adrien had something to lose because he let me manipulate the class. But I knew that as long as the class had faith in you, eventually you would come up with some proof that would plant the seed of doubt in my stories. I had no hold over you, so there was no way you would have escaped my plans even if you weren’t class president or into Adrien.”

There was silence once more as Marinette absorbed this.

“Satisifed?” Lila called through the stall door.

“Not exactly,” Marinette admitted. “But i got what I came for.”

Lila nodded, even as she knew Marinette couldn’t see. “Then I’ll see you in class.”

More like Marinette will see her. When Lila became president, Alya suggested they switch seats so they could make plans more efficiently. Adrien had stubbornly followed Marinette to the back. When Lila was exposed, Alya sat in front with Nino, leaving Lila with her own table once again.

As the main door opened, Marinette paused. “One more thing. Do I have anything more to worry from you?”

Lila laughed, a genuine laugh that actually sounded pleasant to hear. “Even if I said no, would you believe me?”

They both knew the answer to that.

But it was the truth, Lila had no vendetta left for Marinette. It was Chloe who had earned her ire, but she was too powerful. Lila was through with Françoise Dupont College. It was no longer worth her effort.

#miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug fic #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #ml fic #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #alya salt #lila salt #chloe redemption #ml salt fic #lila gets exposed #lila is exposed #lila bashing

[kaspbrak-tozier-reddie]

"Have you ever been to a birthday party for children/And one of the children won't stop screaming/...There's other people, you selfish asshole!" From Bo Burnham's song, for that quote thing? Also this is for Reddie. Thanks :)

Song: Art is Dead by Bo Burnham

Warnings: slight mentions of homophobia, other than that, just pure fluff.

Send quote/prompt and I’ll write a fic

——————————————————————

With Richie being a hotshot comedian now, his manager had decided it was now time to do a meet and greet. Richie not only now performs his own standup comedy shows but is on Saturday Night Live, does movies and tv shows. 

Having a rocky 2.5 years in the comedy industry, Richie’s new beginning seems promising, even Eddie is thrilled. After all, Eddie is the one that forced Richie to fire his writer and old manager due to homophobic jokes, not being able to come out thus shoving him back into the closest; and had jokes that were far too dry and tasteless that even Richie didn’t laugh. They made Stan’s jokes seem laughable now! So with the help of his boyfriend of 2 years, he and Eddie found a new manager.

“Excited for your debut M&G?” Scotty, Richie’s new manager, asks.

“Oh, heck yes!” Richie exclaims as he sets up his table. “Give me a sec.” Richie spots his boyfriend carrying a large bag that he immediately recognises as Eddie’s first aid bag. “Eds, we don’t need that babe.”

“Uh, yes, yes we do. I can’t get sick and neither can you!” Eddie replies placing the bag behind Richie’s chair. “Do you know how many germs are spread around here?”

“I -” Richie starts.

Richie can feel granddad’s wedding ring shift in his pocket, causing Richie to remember why he even has it in the first place. He carries it with him day in day out, ever since the couple’s 1st anniversary. Knowing that any day could be when he chooses to marry the man he’s been in love with since he was 10. 

“It’s a rhetorical question. Okay, long lines in a confide space, you will. Get. Sick.”

Eddie isn’t wrong, it takes only a couple people with a cold or flu to then infect hundreds more. Keeping a load up of hand-sanitizer on hand is important, he places it where it’s hidden but within Richie’s reach. The entire bag contains multiple bottles of water and fruits; as well as all those important tissues and general first aid kit that has been overly stocked with more bandages, band-aids, gauzes and alcohol wipes than it needs. 

But Richie isn’t nervous for the one on one meet and greet, it’s the actual panel where he’s speaking and Eddie refused to come up on the stage with him. He doesn’t know what he’s meant to do, sure he’s done interviews but it was one person, not hundreds. 

“Richie? You ready?” Scotty asks.

“Yeah.”

“Good, ‘cause it’s showtime.” Eddie stands off to the side and gives him the thumbs up and Richie looks everywhere but the stampede of fans coming in. All the other celebrities at the function are relaxed and getting ready but Richie is ready to puke instead of greeting the fans.

Maybe this was all a mistake, Richie thinks to himself. But he loves his fans, if it wasn’t for Eddie he would be on the list of most hated people around the world. Besides, Derry should be on that said list of places to not visit on account on its outdated teachings. 

His negative thoughts come to a halt as his first fan arrives at his station. It’s awkward, he has no idea what to say or do but nonetheless, he’s still sweet, awkward and charming. 

*

After 15 fans come to his table, he’s finally gotten the hang of it and that would also be 15 uses of the hand sanitizer thanks to his boyfriend’s need for hygiene and germaphobia. 

What Richie didn’t expect was his fans to be of a variety of ages, he’s seen kids as young as 12 come by with their parents in tow. Parents dragging their kids with them, the rare elderly citizens come by and not to mention a few whole families; we’re talking kids, parents and grandparents. Richie is blown away.

He sees a break and quickly looks to Eddie, who sits quietly behind the table out of sight. “Holy shit! This is insane!” Richie whispers, his mouth covered by his hands to not be seen as someone who talks to himself.

Eddie looks up from his book, “That’s great. Also, I was thinking that I come on stage with you.”

“That’s great,” Richie looks back briefly. “Oop, more customers.”

Richie can hear Eddie’s giggle and then it stops and a page flips. He accidentally bumps the ring in his pocket, causing him to jolt. Could this be it?

****

A couple of hours later, Richie finally sets up for the panel, the most important event of the day, according to his manager. “Are you sure Eds, I don’t want to seem like I’m forcing you,” Richie says as he gets hooked up to the sound system.

“I want to, the number of fans asking about me… I couldn’t. Also, don’t call me Eds,” Eddie responds and Richie signals for another mic and third chair is brought out to the stage.

There’s another panic attack bubbling in Richie’s throat and blood, he feels like he’s being smothered, he can feel his pulse around his body and hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears. He instinctively turns to look out at the crowd from behind the curtain and sure enough, there are, at least, 200 people. Every ticket for the panel was sold out, he remembers his manager said. Richie and Eddie are signalled out to the stage and manages to get to the chair without an issue and finally looks to the crowd. 

You can do this, he thinks to himself, I’ve got Eddie with me.

“So Richie, in your Netflix Special, you had stated that you are now writing your own material. Why the change?” The host asks; Richie had never really publically stated why the change but he guesses it’s time everyone knew.

“My old manager thought my jokes were too crass and wouldn’t appeal to anyone. He also claimed that self-deprecating or my gay sex jokes wouldn’t appeal. So he kept me in the closest and gave me jokes that I would never have approved.” Richie doesn’t hold back unleashing all his anger out. “I, of course, sued him and won.”

Cheers of approval echoes through and Richie’s tenseness starts to die down, relaxing into the crowd.

“Right, let’s go into the fan questions.”

Richie looks to Eddie and smiles coyly at him, Eddie returns the favour and gently squeezes Richie’s thigh for support. The two looks back at the crowd and straight up the middle are about 15 people ready to ask questions. “Why did it take you so long to leave that manager?” A fan asks.

“I couldn’t break the contract,” Richie explains. “When we were 2 years fresh out of college I had signed with this man and Eddie had gone into risk analysis. I did one gig and immediately wanted to drop him.”

Richie is about to continue when Eddie cuts him off, bringing the mic to his mouth.

“He knew that I delt with contracts and risks so he asked me to look at it. To put it simply, if he left and signed with someone else, he would’ve been in grave debt where it would’ve been damaging and become a whole legal issue.” 

*

Richie smiles at his boyfriend thinking back to the day that he took the godforsaken contract to the young risk analyst. As Eddie looked over the whole contract, he notices the whole fine print, something he knew that Richie would obviously skim over like every other person. Stan would obviously have 6 fits if he caught Richie doing that but alas Eddie isn’t Stan.

The manager had several writers on hand and Eddie looked every single one of them up and sure enough, each writer had a bad review. This man was going to stop Richie’s career before it even began but after 2 years Richie could opt out without any legal penalties. 

Eddie had explained everything to Richie but that still meant that Richie would have to do whatever they said to not face court. Richie, of course, was heartbroken but that was the way that it had to go. But in the comfort of Eddie’s apartment, he kissed him and Eddie kissed him back until he had pushed Richie away.

“Richie, you’re seeing someone. I can’t -” Eddie had said.

“I don’t care, I like you. Eds, I’m gay and I’m seeing someone against my will,” Richie tries to reason.

“That - that doesn’t matter.”

I broke his heart but he knew that Eddie was right. Natalie was lovely, no matter the circumstance he couldn’t hurt her.

****

“Eddie with Richie being a comedian, have you met any other comedians?” A fan asks Richie’s boyfriend.

“I have actually. Bo Burnham and John Mulaney,” Eddie replies. “In fact, Bo Burnham has a very relatable song called Art is Dead. It’s the epitome of Richie.”

“Oh, how so?” Richie presses. 

Sure he’s met Bo Burnham but he hasn’t really listened to his stand up shows, all he knows is that he makes funny songs. Eddie is often raving about a few of Bo’s songs but that’s about it, Eddie’s never gotten him to actually listen to them.

“Okay, so young Richie was an asshat and that’s just putting it lightly. Anyway, there’s this line, ‘Have you ever been to a birthday party for children, and one of the children won’t stop screaming?’” The crowd laughs, “I can guarantee you that Richie often did this, for all 6 of us and if we were lucky, also his own party, making it all 7.“ 

Richie just starts to laugh knowing full well that it was him as a child, he mouths ‘true’ to the audience, causing more and more laughter before Eddie’s voice starts to echo back through the speakers.

“Richie always craved the attention, as mentioned in the song, but one line that I use often is, ‘There’s other people, you selfish asshole!’“ Richie tries to contain his laughter but he burst and tears start to stream down his face as he laughs the hardest he has in years, from a joke that wasn’t his own. 

Nobody can break him but somehow his boyfriend explaining how Bo Burnham’s song is relatable just makes him burst into tears from laughter. Even Stan’s dry and sarcastic wit wasn’t enough to make him cry, in laughter, when they were kids or even now as adults. It’s physically impossible.

“I hope a lot of you got that on camera, me crying; nobody has been able to do that ever!” Richie exclaims as he wipes away the tears from under his eyes. Now it’s Eddie’s turn to laugh vigorously. 

But at that moment, Richie knows, he knows that the man right beside him, laughing in absolute joy, is the man he wants to spend the rest of his life with. Normally he’d forget about his granddad’s ring during the day until he got home and has taken his pants off. But now as the thought continues to creep into his brain, the ring feels like it’s burning a hole in his pocket, wanting to escape.

*

“How long have you two been friends for before you got together?” Another fan asks 

“About 3 decades of friendship and 2 years as boyfriends,” Eddie confirms.

“It would’ve been 4 maybe 5 years of being boyfriends if I didn’t have that shitty manager.” In Richie’s peripheral vision, he can see Eddie’s shocked face. “Don’t act surprised, I flirted with you through all of middle school to college.” Eddie laughs as does the crowd.

Richie knows it’s too soon but maybe this is the way it is meant to happen, how he is meant to ask Eddie to marry him. He’d be bloody stupid to not do it when he has known that Eddie is the only one for him ever since Bowers’ cousin in the arcade back when he was 14. 

The ring in his pocket becomes Richie’s main focus, not the fans; if he takes it out… 

“Rich? You good?” Eddie asks.

“Huh? Oh uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” Richie stammers. “Next question.”

“You said that you suffer from anxiety, how do you manage it when you’re on stage?” A young girl asks, she’s probably no more than 16, she fidgets with her fingernails as she speaks and it becomes that she’s nervous.

“Don’t be nervous hun, it’s okay, I am too,” Richie states and the crowd ‘awe’s’ causing Richie to chuckle. “I know if I’m having an anxiety attack and it’s become part of my everyday life so I find it’s best to act as if it’s not there. It’s partially because I’m too lazy to get therapy.”

That’s the truth, any time he gets an anxiety attack he knows he’s not dying especially since Eddie has explained it to him. It’s annoying but therapy is just too bothersome, he has to try to fit it in with his busy schedule and then he’ll probably have to get anti-anxiety pills or anti-depressants to stop the anxiety attacks.

“But, if Eddie is by my side then all my anxiety tends to go away,” Richie finishes and quickly digs into his pocket, fiddling with the ring in his pocket. It’s hidden away from the way he’s sitting which is the important thing.

But he’s unsure of what to do, does he do it now in front of hundreds? Or does he do it later at a restaurant? If he does it now and Eddie says ‘no’ then that’s going to leave an awkward 25 minutes left of the panel. 

He looks back at Eddie. 

“If you ever get married, would you become Richie Kaspbrak or Eddie Tozier or Richie and Eddie Kaspbrak-Tozier?” Richie’s eyes almost pop out of his head, the pain is unbearable, he needs to break, he wants to break but it’s an impulsive move to propose without thinking it through. 

He hasn’t thought of how he would do it.

Hasn’t thought of what he’d say.

“I uh,” Eddie faulters, “100% Eddie Tozier, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Richie chokes on his saliva and bursts into a coughing fit, what the fuck?

“You for real, Eds?” Richie questions, he takes one look at the audience, who are anticipating on what happens next, then back to Eddie. 

“If you’re taking it as a proposal, I don’t thi-” Eddie’s cut off by Richie holding a white gold plated ring. “Are you -” The look in Richie’s eyes is enough for Eddie to take the ring and place it right on his finger. Sure enough, it is, surprisingly a perfect fit.

“Ask him!” Some dude yells from the crowd, a chorus erupts and causes Richie to fall from his chair and onto one knee.

“I know this isn’t a restaurant and is entirely impulsive but it wouldn’t be me if it wasn’t. I love you, have since we were 10, instead of it being hypothetical, will you truly become Edward Tozier? Marry me?”  

“Yes,” Eddie replies pulling Richie up from the floor, the crowd erupts as he kisses Richie’s cheek before sending him back to his own seat. 

“Next question?” Richie says.

#reddie #richie x eddie #eddie x richie #edward kaspbrak #eddie kaspbrak #richard tozier #richie tozier #it chapter 1 #it chapter 2

[buckyreaderrecs]

A Toast to Whiskey: Chapter 1 / 2

Summary: You work in an old bar hidden away from the modern world. It's almost charming, but not quite. That's probably why Bucky likes it.

Words: 2,325 Pairing: Bucky Barnes/reader Characters: Bucky Barnes Additional tags: Bucky needs a hug, recovering Bucky, mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame didn’t happen, Stark Tower still exists), angst, she/her pronouns, more tags/characters to be added with part 2, brief mention of Nazis, mental health will be prominent part of part 2

Note: Find this fic and others on A03 - click here. And follow this Tumblr! I post lists of Bucky/Reader fic writers and reblog all my favs. I’ve just started it, so would love the support! xo Rhi

Dedicated to: @browngirlmagic for the conversation. The next chapter is the Lush one!

A Toast to Whiskey Chapter 1 / 2

There were a lot of things in the dusty, old bar that made the man's jaw clench in annoyance, distaste, or anger. You were compiling a list of these things, doing your best to minimise their occurrences. There was one you couldn't avoid though, and it was almost amusing that it bothered him at all. Each time someone ordered a drink - beer, cocktail, shot, whatever - a clean glass was given. The man didn't like it. Was it not like that in his time?

If James Buchanan Barnes thought he'd gone unnoticed in the hole-in-the-wall bar you worked at, he was mistaken. Not entirely, to be fair; the baseball cap and quiet stopped the other patrons from even giving him a second glance. 'Patrons' might have been too civilised of a word to call them. They were old, sickly, local men that had been drinking the same beer from those same taps forever. Harmless, mostly. Unobservant, entirely. Not you though. The first day Bucky walked in and taken a barstool on the very corner, closest to the door, you knew exactly who he was.

Like a lot of people that came and went from the establishment, Bucky's seeking of anonymity was granted. You pretended to not recognise him. You were kind to him, a little more gentle than you were to others, but mostly just a good bartender. And in time, you grew accustomed to the charade. He came in a couple of afternoons a week, but never during the nights when it would be busy. Eventually, he even started to speak more than a couple words to you.

"New cap?" you greeted Bucky with a grin, putting the only drink he ever ordered down in front of him.

Bucky wrapped his right hand around the glass of whiskey. He glanced at you, smiled and shrugged.

"Speaking of new, can I ask you something?" you asked.

The expression on Bucky's face was guarded, but definitely one of concern. You realised you should have just asked, rather than let his mind spiral.

"What’s your problem with clean glasses?"

He looked surprised. Surprised was an experience Bucky wasn't particularly used to or fond of. He wouldn't hold it against you though.

"How do ya know I got a problem?" he asked back, genuinely curious.

Shrugging, you looked around casually. "Guess I notice a lot of things about people,"

"Right," he said slowly, knowingly. "I don't know… Just seems wasteful… Is it the law?"

"That we have to use clean glasses?" you asked with a laugh. "I don't know… probably not. I mean, it's more hygienic. Probably makes the drink taste cleaner or whatever. Board of Health might have a problem with us if we didn't… Not that I've seen one of them in here in years."

Bucky picked up his glass and finished the whiskey. "Fill her up," he quipped. He'd made a half-joke, and you appreciated the effort.

"Yes, sir. Lemme know if you, you know, what anything else," you told him, topping him up, knocking your knuckles on the bar top, and walking away.

…

Bucky Barnes certainly wasn't the most chatty person you'd met. It was better to ask questions if you wanted to pass time with conversations. Easy conversation was one of your special skills, being a bartender and all. However, it was incredibly difficult to do this when you were purposefully avoiding topics that would put Bucky in a position to have to, you know, admit his identity and all that. So, things stayed superficial.

No, Bucky didn't watch the game.

Yes, the weather's been insane.

No, he doesn't want any nut mix.

Okay, maybe yes to pretzels.

Yes, he can see your hair has changed colour.

Yes, he likes it.

For as long as it had taken to get to the point of superficial conversation, it didn't take any time at all to run out of things to say. As it turned out, neither you nor Bucky had lived, or were living, shallow enough lives to sustain it. There were questions you were begging to ask, and if he was honest with himself, Bucky was kinda just counting down until you finally spoke up.

…

"So, I got a question,"

"Mmm. You have a lot of questions," Bucky said, smirking then taking another sip of his whisky.

"You could ask me somethin' if you want a change of pace, pal."

It was a joke. Just banter. But a dark expression flashes across Bucky's face for only a split second. You didn't catch it.

"What's your question, Y/N?"

He knew your name?

Of course he knew your name. He was The Winter fucking Soldier. He probably knew everything about everyone that worked and frequented the bar. How had you not thought of that before? Suddenly, it seemed risky to ask what you had planned to.

Bucky watched you hesitate. He sighed and looked around at the empty room. It was a Monday afternoon and it was just before the regulars showed up to knock beer bottles together and catcall you across the bar. It was just you and him.

"Ask," he said softly, taking his cap off and setting it down on the barstool next to him. You watched Bucky run his hands through his hair, tucking some of it behind his ear.

"Why do you drink whiskey?"

Bucky laughed. Like, a proper heartfelt laugh. "What?" he said, nose still scrunched up in amusement.

"What?"

"Why do I drink whiskey?" he repeated.

"Yeah… I mean… It's disgusting… and, like, you… can't get drunk, right?"

There it was. You did it. Admitted you knew him. Which he figured out. So none of what was happening was really a big deal. But it sure as fuck felt like it.

"Right. I can’t- Well, I can, but it takes a lot,"

"Asgardian mead a lot?"

Bucky grinned and tipped his glass towards you. "How do you know about Asgardian mead?"

You snorted. "Everyone does. Everyone knows everything these days,"

"That's what we want you to think," he said, not skipping a beat.

It made you laugh. It was already better talking to him without false pretences. "So, whisky?"

"Ah… Guess it's that everything's different now… An' that's mostly good. But… You know."

No. No, you didn't know. How could you even begin to understand? "Yeah," you said, your voice far more quiet than you meant it to be.

"Whiskey's still whiskey,"

"It tastes the same?" you asked.

"Almost. Not exactly. Close enough,"

"Makes sense… But why here? S'not like this bar been here since the 40s or anything."

Bucky was visibly trying not to smile. Or make eye contact. "Ah… Not sure how to answer that without… offending ya,"

"Huh? ... Oh, I don't own the joint or anything,"

"You don't?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

"No? You think I did? Why?"

"You're…" but he shrugged, still guarded. "I don't know," he lied. "But, ah, I was just lookin' for somewhere…"

"Pretty much stuck in the 40s or thereabouts?"

He nodded, smiling. "But without the Nazis,"

"Mmm… I mean… Have you watched the news lately?" you very quickly said.

"I try to avoid it," he admitted solemnly.

As people started to wander in, the conversation waned. Bucky watched you serve cold beer and pour bags of crisps into bowls. He listened to the worst songs being picked on the jukebox and he sat truly shocked you weren't even at least the daughter of the owner. Despite what you may have thought, he hadn't bothered to investigate you at all and finding his assumptions to be wrong was unsettling.

See, Bucky was a little bit smitten with you. He thought you were smart and sassy and timelessly beautiful. You were the ultimate perk of randomly picking this as his hideaway from the world. But, he figured you were only here because it was a family business. Why was someone smart, sassy and beautiful working strange hours at a shitty bar?

It was hard to say which of you was more curious about the other.

…

Something about what Bucky said had stuck in your head. Whiskey, his drink of choice, was the closest thing to his own time he could find. You could do better than that though.

About a year into working at the bar, you were finally allowed to venture into the cellar to clean it up. There were boxes of shit from forever ago down there and you just wanted it sorted, gone, and the space put to better use. Most of what lived beneath the floor was trash, but every hour or so you'd find something cool. A few vintage beer signs. Empty bottles of collector edition Coke. That kind of stuff. But, there was one thing you had found that you now wanted to stumble across again.

Nobody could remember where it had got to.

It took two days of searching to find it.

The bottle of whiskey was shoved under a bunch of paperwork in the office's bottom drawer desk. Not exactly where you'd store something worth a lot of money, but hey - the barely-there owners of the bar were eccentric, to put it nicely. You didn't recognise the brewing company on the peeling label, but that wasn't the point. The date on the bottle quite clearly read 1940.

When Bucky took his usual spot that afternoon, you bounced over to him with a grin on your face. He looked up at you, keeping his cap.

"Aren't you gonna ask me why I'm so happy?" you said, elbows on the bar and head in your hands.

Bucky smiled a little. He seemed sad. Sadder than usual. Good timing.

"Why are you so happy?"

"'Cause I found something that's gonna make you real fuckin' happy. Check this out!"

You produced the bottle from where you had it stashed under the bar and handed it to Bucky.

Bucky's lips parted slightly and his eyes went all glossy. He read the label carefully, probably trying to place the brand you couldn't. He handled it so carefully, even more than you in your fear of dropping it.

"This is real," he finally said.

"Yeah. I found it in the basement ages ago and just remembered it. 1940, so I figure it's like, first or second batch after Prohibition, yeah?"

Bucky nods. "I guess…" he replied, smiling, remembering Prohibition. "And before all the distilleries had to stop again,"

"For what?" you asked.

"The war," he said so matter-of-factly that it hurt a little. He looked up then, saw your confusion. "Dunno if it was law or if they just did it, but most places stopped making drinking alcohol and started making stuff to help win the war. And ah, whiskey stopped being made because it took up too much crops. I don't know. Something like that."

Something like that. Like he hadn't lived history.

"I didn’t know that. That's…" Not 'cool.' "That makes sense… Anyway. Open it," you ordered, getting out two clean glasses.

Bucky put the bottle on the bar and looked at you seriously. "Y/N, that's gotta be worth… a lot… Can't open it for no reason,"

"Nobody here cares about it. And besides, it's not really no reason, is it?" He didn't move or say anything. "Bucky." He flinched at his name, glanced around to make sure nobody heard. They hadn't. "I think you kinda earned this one, yeah? Now do me the honours."

Why was everyone in Bucky's life so goddamn stubborn?

He sighed and opened the bottle silently. You nodded in encouragement, letting him pour.

"A toast," you posed, holding your glass up. Bucky mimicked your action. "A toast to…" Everything in your head sounded either very cliché or very sad.

"Whiskey," Bucky finished.

"Whiskey," you agreed.

Drinking at the same time, Bucky swallowed in two gulps while you struggled with a sip.

"Jesus fucking Christ it tastes like cat piss now and it did then," you whined, pouring the liquid left in your glass into Bucky's. He laughed at you.

After drinking that down quickly, Bucky reached across the bar and took your hand in his. "Thank you, Y/N. Really."

A toast to finding things that make us less homesick.

…

After the 1940 whiskey, Bucky came in more regularly. He stayed longer, despite the place filling with people. He even began to talk to the other regulars when they sat at the bar and argued with you about politics, the news, and kids these days. You watched him play devil's advocate, siding with the old men, sarcastically poking fun at you with a quick comment every now and then.

You weren't sure when it happened, but you realised Bucky had grown to be comfortable in the space. And there was something about that that made you ridiculously happy. Like, sunbeams bouncing around on the inside of you making you all hot and tingly and full of joy whenever he was there kind of happy. It was gross.

Bucky would walk in, sit, place his cap down and grin at you with his cute little teeth and sparkly blue eyes. It made your day without exception, and you started to notice more little things about him and how they made you feel. When he hooked his hand behind his ear it would make your stomach flip.

One time, when he was telling you a story about carnival rides and baby Steve throwing up, a loose strand of hair fell across his face and you immediately and unconsciously leant across the bar and folded it gently behind his ear for him. Bucky froze, and you went to apologise, but he spoke first. "Thanks," he said softly, with more meaning than the situation called for, then continued on with his story.

It was like that for just over a month. Then he stopped coming in. There was nothing in his final visit to indicate he wasn't coming back. Bucky just disappeared.

CLICK TO READ PART 2/2

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes/Reader #Bucky Barnes/You #Bucky Barnes/Y/N #Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes x You #Bucky Barnes x Y/N #Bucky Barnes fic #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky barnes needs a hug #mine

[bangtansflower]

Opium Chapter 1

A/N: This one I wasn’t planning on bringing out so soon, but it kept on nagging me at the back of my head that I had to write it. I guess I love the heart break.

Warnings: Drug abuse. Underage drinking. Suicide. Angst. Tons of it! Heart break. Lying BTS. Just want to point out there that this is entirely fictional and that BTS and other characters in this fic are not based on real life at all! 

Summary: You couldn’t believe it. He was back. Now that Min Yoongi is back in your life, it takes a turn for the worse. How could he just up and leave then waltz back in? And how could the guys you trusted with all your heart betray you like that. Struggling to cope with it all you turn to drugs and the comfort of Yeonjun and his older brother Sejin. Falling into a deep pit of despair is there any hope of you managing to climb out of the hole that just gets deeper each day?

Wordcount: 1,487

Masterlist / Next

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You sprawl on the couch one leg dangling off it, head thrown back leaning against the cushions. Taking a long drag of your spliff you let your eyes roll back, allowing the tingling feeling to take you over, letting your mind forget. Tomorrow will be another day. Another day of forgetting. You plan to drink and take drugs till you could forget everything and everyone. A mop of blue hair comes into your side view before a face comes close to yours making eye contact. “Noona, give me some of that weed”. Rolling your eyes you pass Yeonjun the rest of the spliff watching him take a long drag, holding it before exhaling slowly, you were mesmerized by the smoke coming out of his mouth. Yeonjun made himself comfortable on the floor leaning against the couch. Taking a swig of his VERY strong whisky which only had a bit of coke, he eventually asked in a quiet voice “Noona...What happened?” A silence engulfed the two of you for a few moments, the only sound was the pitter-patter of the light rain outside. Turning your head slowly you faced the ceiling focusing on that one dark patch that stood out against the whiteness and started to explain in a soft whisper. 

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Flash back

You were walking along campus, headphones blasting loud music but you did not have a care in the world. It was getting dark, the sun slowly setting painting the skies in its warm colours of red, yellow and orange. It was rare to see the campus this empty, it was peaceful, but then again it was the start of the weekend and everyone wanted to party. A ding of your mobile pulls you out of your thoughts, checking it quickly a pout comes across your face.

Sunshine: Sorry guys I can’t come join the escapade of fun tonight! T.T I have to finish this dance routine for the exam. Which also means Jungkook and Jimin, sorry to ruin your plans but i really do need you there! 

Chimmy: Hyung! Why?! It’s the weekend and I was looking forward to it! Aish let me get ready.

Joonie: I’m also going to have to be that person and pull out of the plans too. And I’m going to drag Taehyung with me. I need him to sing.

Bunny: HA pull out. And Hobi on my way.

JinJin: OMG Jungkook grow up. And same here guys. My head is pounding from all of the studying I’ve had to do this past week.

Vante: LOL. And dammit. I thought you would forget Joon hyung.

Joonie: Harhar.

This was happening more often recently, a frown marred your face, yes it was exam season, and yes tensions were high, but it never stopped anyone before. You decided to ignore the rest of the messages, not replying and opted to finish your walk to your small apartment. Your apartment wasn’t much but it was home. You and Jungkook lived together, in a non platonic way, the two of you have been best friends for as long as you can remember. Making your inside you notice how quiet it is, Jungkook must have already gone to the dance studio. You sigh putting you mobiler on charge, now that you weren’t going out at least you could finish off your assignment. 

After 2 hours you finally finish, rubbing your eyes your stomach rumbles. Deciding to go to the convenience store to treat yourself to your favourite snacks, you deserved it after all, you stand up and stretch like a cat, even getting on your tippy toes. Grabbing your favourite oversized hoodie you grab your phone off charge seeing 2 missed calls from Jungkook and a message.

Bunny: Y/N gonna be home late, Hobi is really drilling this dance into us and won’t let us leave till it is near perfection.

Replying that it was okay and that you will see him tomorrow, you find your purse shoving it into your pocket, tie up your shoes and head out into the night. You found it weird being out on a friday night without the boys, but was it really that weird, your heart fell, you were getting used to it. Being without the boys, you swore you saw all of them less and less these past few months, even Jungkook and you live with the guy! Your eyes started to water but you quickly wipe them away, you would not cry over this you told yourself. 

Loud recognisable laughter made you turn around in curiosity, scanning the area your eyes land on Hoseok who was drunk and dancing in the middle of the park across the road. Eyes widening you could see all of the guys, Jungkook and Jimin recording Hoseok, with an even more drunk Taehyung joining in on the dancing. Seokjin and Namjoon laughing out loud leaning on each other for support, and wait...no...it couldn’t be..could it? Take a step back your mouth opens in shock. Yoongi? Yoongi was back? And no one told you? Rubbing your eyes to make sure you weren’t seeing things you knew that there was no mistaking that gummy smile, Yoongi was really back. And he was back with another girl, arm wrapped around her waist pulling her closer to his frame. 

The feeling of your heart sinking just moments before was nothing like this feeling, the feeling of your heart shattering into a million pieces, so many that it could be mistaken for fine dust particles being dragged away by the soft breeze. Feeling something wet on your face your shaking hands touch your cheeks, when did you start crying? Muffling a sob with your hand you turned away, turned away from the people who you called your friends, from the people who knew all the pain you went through and now were the cause of your pain. You ran to the only safe place you knew, but not before grabbing some things from your place, you really did not want to stay at that apartment, drinks and drugs.

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Present

Yeonjun listened in pure silence attentive to every word you said, a lone tear fell down his face as he turned to face you. “How could they do that to you? After everything that happened? The hyungs were meant to help you yet they did the complete opposite!” He raised his voice with every word, anger filling his chest. “Noona your staying here, Sejin hyung won’t mind.” He said determinedly “Pretty sure your the only girl he would allow me to have stay over” he added as an afterthought head tilting in concentration, the drugs were truly starting to get to him. This made you laugh a little, a small smile appearing on your face, moving one hand you ruffle his vibrant blue hair a little “Thank you Yeonjun, I knew I could count on you” you say in a small thankful voice. Smiling back at you he moved his half empty drink to your mouth causing you to sit up slightly, taking it from him you downed it, the whisky burning your throat as it goes down. Gasping suddenly Yeonjun gets up in a stumbling mess, the drugs and alcohol making the room spin a little, you grab him quickly helping stabilize him before he falls trying to stop your own dizziness from the sudden movement. “Noona I’ll be right back, I have just the stuff that will make you forget!” He grinned a toothy grin and puts two thumbs up before running in the direction of his room, your eyes followed him wondering what on earth he is talking about. Yeonjun came back a few moments later with a small tin “Noona this is Sejins secret stash, he would usually kill me for taking these but I do say this is on occasion where it is worth the risk”. Looking curiously at the silver tin you notice that there are a few rolled up cigarettes inside “Is that more weed?” You grin looking quickly between Yeonjun and the tin, you both have exhausted your combined weed supply. Shaking his head with a smirk on his face “No noona, this is something much better.” He takes one carefully out of the tin holding it up for you to see, “This is opium, and I have to say it is one of my most favourite things to smoke” Reaching out you take it from him putting the end in your mouth and make eye contact with Yeonjun waiting. He reaches into his pocket taking out a pink lighter, lighting his own laughing at the annoyed expression you make before lighting yours. You inhale slowly savouring every minute, before exhaling. You have found your new favourite fix you think to yourself. You don’t even notice the messages piling up from the guys on your mobile, and even if you did happen to notice, you certainly did not care.

#yoongi angst #bts #min yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #bts yoongi x reader #bts angst #suga x reader #bts suga #bts au fanfic #bts au #suga x oc #suga x you #suga x y/n #yoongi x oc #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n

[normal-thoughts-official]

I love your Magnus responses! Some have brought me to tears :') hopwfully you haven't answered this yet. I always see fics/ metas on how Alec came to terms about his sexuality, but never on Magnus (or just a selecative few). In your opinion how did he come to terms with his bisexuality? - luxxmagnus

okay first of all I LOVE UR BLOG im so glad u like my shit omg fajsfoamsa and second of all BOY DO I HAVE THOUGHTS ABOUT HOW MAGNUS CAME TO TERMS WITH HIS SEXUALI-

okay SO. your relationship with sexuality is deeply influenced by your early years, as is, well, most aspects of your personality lol. so i think it’s fascinating to think about magnus’ relationship with his gender identity and sexuality considering he was born in early-1600s indonesia, aka right when the colonization started. meaning, a lot of their customs and views on gender and sexuality couldn’t have possibly been erased yet, but they were being very violently and aggressively repressed. and then he finished his growing-up years with asmodeus, a demon, who can’t really give much of a fuck about gender identity and sexuality. so this means a very complicated relationship is bound to develop, and i love it.

unfortunately, magnus’ exact ethnic background isn’t specified in SH (nor tsc, i believe) which makes the whole discussion a lot harder because there are hundreds of native peoples in indonesia. however, they were very much in contact with each other both before and after the dutch invasion and subsequent colonisation, so what i’m gonna do here is talk a little bit about the views on the subject magnus was definitely aware of, and go from there

i know this specifically asked about his bisexuality so i will refrain from shitting my trans magnus headcanon all over the place but i will say that the Bugis people recognised five genders, including one for AFAB people who identified as neither male nor female, and one that embodied both female and male identities

anyway, queerphobia is, in fact, a very recent and very european thing, and most indonesian people, like most asian people and most non-modern-western peoples, were actually A-okay with what we view today as homosexuality. there were even many rituals centered around men-on-men and women-on-women practices. they were also pretty open with sexuality as a whole; there’s even a mountain with a shrine where people have sex with strangers as part of their religious worship.

but, as we know, the european colonizers were very intent on killing off and erasing all records of their dominated cultures, particularly the aspects that directly challenged the european model of gender, sexuality and relationships, to the point where we, ppl born in previously colonised countries, don’t even know about our culture’s views on gender and sexuality. in indonesia, the dutch criminalised homosexuality and we can’t forget that magnus’ stepfather was dutch, and that magnus was born after the colonisation. 

so here’s the context: since it was very early in the colonisation days, there is no way that magnus didn’t know about the very rich and diverse gender and sexuality practices in his own country. there’s just no way. it takes decades to completely erase that shit. and we can’t forget that all indonesian peoples resisted colonisation, a lot. we don’t know the exact nature of magnus’ mother’s relationship with his stepfather, but it is very likely that he either enslaved or forced her to be in a relationship with him, because - well, because that’s colonisation, folks. it’s what these guys do. this is also supported by the way his stepfather treated magnus, because i mean, what the fuck. it was extremely rare that native colonised ppls would willingly be with their coloniser, particularly considering how the dutch were just, like, casually deporting and starving indonesian native ppls and ppl in java had been at war with the portuguese would-be settlers (would-be because they lost amazingly lmao get rekt) since the beginning of the 1500s. so im gonna go out on a limb here and say that magnus’ “stepfather” was, in fact, an abusive piece of shit coloniser who probably mistreated magnus’ mother and was probably a huge reason why she killed herself - i mean, your people are dying, and you’re bound to this guy who abuses and rapes you and keeps telling you everything about you and the way you live and was raised is demonic, that’s just bound to mess with you. actually, the religious aspect of colonisation that taught ppl that their cultures and religious were demonic and immoral and that they either had to repent for that and submit to the colonisers or be killed slash go to hell, hmmm…… well, is probably related to the fact that the idea that magnus was demon-related was repulsive enough to her that she killed herself? and that’s if we go with the interpretation that magnus was the main reason, which isn’t really reliable because 1- magnus clearly thinks he needs to Save Everyone and is bound to think that if anyone gets hurt it’s his fault; 2- canonically, it was magnus’ stepfather who told magnus that the reason she killed herself was magnus’ heritage. i mean i find it hard to believe personally that magnus’ mom didn’t know she was fucking a demon or at least a supernatural entity of some sort, and the whole angel-demon division is a christianity thing anyway, so what the fuck does this mean to magnus’ mom, really? especially considering that, unlike magnus, she probably was alive before the settlers arrived, so it’s even harder to believe that she would just uncritically believe everything about good and evil she was being taught by the guys that were, you know, committing mass genocide. i personally think that if magnus’ eyes were related to her killing herself at all (which makes less and less sense the more i think about it. i mean, what, was he born glamoured? surely she knew about this before he was like 11 or something) it would be because, in a way, this proved that everything she was being told about herself was true. she was demonic, her culture was demonic, and they deserved the absolutely horrific and traumatic things that were happening to them, and her son’s eyes proved it. so it’s not really about magnus as it is about, like, the entire continent of Europe’s bullshit. and anyway, again, everything she was going through was extremely traumatic - i think magnus’ eyes would be almost an afterthought, if considered at all.

anyway, sorry, went on a huge tangent here, i have no self control whatsoever. what i’m trying to say is that magnus grew up in an environment where expressions of different gender and sexuality were very repressed, but he was born in the heart of the very resistance. he was a native man (or, well, boy) and he knew for a fact that most people lived outside of the constricting western gender and sexuality binary, and he lived in a time where the europeans hadn’t really managed to dominate and erase their culture - of course, they never truly did, but the differences were way more latent. so magnus’ views on the whole thing were probably among the lines of “the asshole white people think the way we live is bad and are trying to kill us and that’s why they’re assholes and we’re trying to kick them out, but currently me and my mom are on their hands so i’m gonna have to behave like they expect me to”. so, lots of abuse, a very complicated relationship, but i do believe that magnus wouldn’t have internalised the european bullshit because, well, he was seeing the counterpoint and the resistance and he certainly knew which side was “his”. also in his flashbacks he’s wearing traditional indonesian clothing so there’s that - proof that he wasn’t completely assimilated to european views and culture.

and then he killed the stepfather (good riddance, rot in hell) and went to live his final teenage years with asmodeus. i mean, more like was found by asmodeus and forced to be with him by both the circumstances and asmodeus himself, but you get what i’m saying. 

here’s the thing: asmodeus is definitely an asshole and an abuser, but i can’t bring myself to believe he gave a good fuck about modern-western gender roles and sexuality. he is older than them. by a lot. and he doesn’t even care about the earth realm that much, his whole thing is that he wants to rule edom, so i’m not even sure if he knows about them beyond the, like, very very basics. maybe not even that. so during the rest of magnus’ formative years, and probably the time he figured out what exactly his sexuality was anyway, he was in a pretty open environment when it came to that.

so with that we’ve reached the first conclusion of this huge-ass essay that you probably didn’t sign up for: up until he went to England, Magnus was probably pretty comfortable when it came to his sexuality. like, shit, he was fucked up about everything else, but this one thing i can’t see him internalising a lot of.

i’m gonna fast forward the asmodeus years because i don’t have a lot to say beyond that and also i have no fucking clue what the fuck was going on during that time????????? like it ended when magnus banished him to edom, so i can only assume they were on the earth realm the whole time, but what exactly were they doing???? no clue. i am gonna say, tho, that i think one of the reasons why magnus managed to break out of asmodeus’ shitty “be evil” conditioning is precisely because he had been on the other side before?? like obviously magnus must have been an extremely compassionate kid (which again makes absolute sense in the context of him being part of an oppressed people that were trying their hardest to fight together. you learn a few things about community-building and taking care of others in that context, lemme tell you) since he was out there blaming himself for his mom’s death and also for killing his literal piece of shit stepfather who also tried to kill him as well, but i think it’s just that much harder to help your dad commit mass murder when you’ve been on the receiving end of it. obviously he was probably around asmodeus for a while (i’m thinking until he was like, 18? you know, enough to be an adult), especially considering how he needed the help to learn how to master his magic and also he had nowhere else to go, and also asmodeus was all over the place with “they will always think you’re an abomination, i’m the only one who understands you” and he had eyes like him and all. but still. he knew that he didn’t want that, he knew that he liked earth and didn’t like edom at all and he knew that in order to be himself he’d need to get rid of asmodeus. so he did.

anyway, after the First Great Yeeting Of Asmodeus (second yeeting was when he sent him to limbo so he would never be able to come back. ugh we stan) Magnus went to England. I’m guessing that somehow he met other warlocks during his time with asmodeus (which actually makes sense, i mean, asmodeus must have been wanting ppl to join forces with so he could defeat lilith? or something like that idk they never said anything about what they were doing with their time magnus’ backstory’s got more holes than a swiss cheese) and there seems to be a pretty tight warlock community, so maybe he went to wherever it is that the warlocks meet to gossip and shit? trying to find somewhere else where he belonged. and there he met Ragnor, who helped him break out of his shell and find who he was beyond the constant abuse and the deeply ingrained idea that he was Born To Be Evil.

so for a while, magnus was learning who he was, and again the Warlock Community should be pretty open with gender and sexuality considering most of them are also older than western binary bullshit and also come from different, non-european backgrounds. it was probably at this point that he started going around, having relationships, looking for someone who loves him and somewhere to belong in, you know. haha im fine and soon he figured out that he wanted to find out more about the world. magnus is a curious and creative guy, he’s going around inventing portals and shit, he wants to see the world. so magnus goes to the mundane world. it makes sense, considering in most of his pics he seems to be in mundane settings, and there were no accords at that time. also i mean even post-accords magnus is still going around owning clubs where mundanes can get in so i think he’s quite fond of mundanes.

and that’s when shit comes crashing down, because “sodomy” was punishable by death in England until the 1960s and like boy these guys were not into the whole free sexuality thing. at all. i tend to think magnus would go looking for sex and stuff in downworlder and warlock spaces, where there was a lot more freedom and nobody gave a shit, but he was going around meeting people, and he’s vulnerable and he wants to be loved and he’s definitely been in relationships with mundanes. he knows he needs to hide it, but it doesn’t mean he’s uncomfortable with it. so he might get the occasional insult and he knows he needs to be careful, but this is one aspect of himself he’s actually okay with

but like, he’s spent centuries doing that, eventually shit would go down. and it does. i firmly believe that one of his lovers got caught and got the death penalty. magnus managed to escape but couldn’t save him, and i mean, that’s at least the third time he’s blaming himself for someone’s death. immortality is tiring, and he doesn’t feel like he belongs anywhere. there’s the shadow world, but even there he’s being looked down on because the shadowhunters are racist assholes. he’s got his friends, sure, but he’s never really felt worthy of any love, or like he belonged anywhere, and he’s been through so much abuse and being used and everything he touches seems to go to shit and he’s tired. and he’s killed someone he loved. again. so he goes to the bridge. and camille finds him, and stops him.

now, i don’t know if that’s how they’ve met of if it’s happened before, something like, seeing each other in parties and in downworlder spaces or something. but either way, he’s at a really low point, and that’s the first meaningful interaction they have - camille saves his life. he feels like she cares.

she’s not the only one who cares, obviously. so does ragnor, so does cat, so does dot and lots of other of his friends. but at this point, he’s feeling so empty it’s hard to believe that they care, and camille is all too quick to figure out his exact weaknesses - she’s there to listen to him when he wants to kill himself, i can only imagine the infodump that went on that night. he gives her all she needs to know - his fear of abandonment, his desire to be loved, his belief that he will never be accepted no matter what, his fear that he really is evil inside after all despite everything proving that he isn’t - to use against him perfectly. camille is smart. she’s also manipulative. and she also seems like a ticket into a somewhat normal world - she’s a woman, she’s immortal, she’s acting all sweet around him and telling him that she understands, that this is why she doesn’t mingle with mundanes, that it’s better if they’re just amongst themselves, that people like them can’t trust too much and need to stick together. slowly, she plants into him the idea that he’s gullible, has a weak judgement, and is just weak in general for going around thinking he could ever have a thing with mortals or could ever find a space to belong. she uses that to drive him away from his friends and make sure he does as she says. also, magnus owes her, doesn’t he? she saved his life. how can he fight her, when she saved his life? how can he say no to her? how can he disagree? he’s gullible, he’s weak, and she’s the only one who has enough patience for him. everyone else leaves. she’s all he has.

in conclusion: his sexuality is a huge factor in camille’s abuse, it’s what makes him vulnerable to her and gives her every tool she needs to manipulate him. it’s not direct, she’s not about to make fun or dismiss his bisexuality because she knows this is not something he’s internalised, but she can weaponize the trauma that queerphobia brings to his life, and so she does.

she wrecks him. like really really wrecks him, everything he’s built for himself, his identity, whatever he had of his confidence. like he was still trying to build all of that, but he was getting there, and she gets him back to ground 0 just like that. i think he only broke up with her because she started doing her more Clearly Immoral shit and magnus can’t do that. say what you want, but magnus’ actual nature has always been to care and to give all that he can for others. and camille is just evil mcbad. and her abuse goes a long way, but i don’t think anything could actually break magnus enough to be okay with hurting others. especially considering how most of his trauma seems to revolve around the fact that he believes he is constantly hurting others, and it seems to me - considering how he’s going all around the place helping everyone and sacrificing himself without a second thought - that helping others is even a way to cope somewhat, he doesn’t focus on himself, he does his job and helps others and doesn’t think about himself and so he copes, he can do what he’s good at and also believe he’s somehow “repenting” for “killing” his mother and stepfather (it was SELF FUCKING DEFENSE he didn’t murder him, but he does seem to believe he did). so that’s probably when they break up, when he realises that camille is just. keen on hurting others and she’s bored with him and his morals anyway. i know that in book canon apparently the reason they broke up was that she cheated on him, but again i don’t consider book canon and show canon to be the same canon, specially considering how magnus is a wildly different character in those. so i don’t think that would somehow be the last straw for him. camille probably was cheating on him left and right but he probably just believed that it was his fault, or just kept forgiving her anyway because he had nowhere to go and it should be enough that she loves him and saved him, right?

he doesn’t really get around to realising that camille is a straight-up abuser and awful person (as shown by the fact that he seems to still internalise the whole “camille saved my life” bullshit when she was really just manipulating him and using his vulnerability against him) but he does realise that he can’t keep looking for a partner as a solution to his issues. he also doesn’t really want to be in a relationship after her, not when he’s broken in more pieces than he was when he left asmodeus, and that was a lot of pieces as well. so he sleeps around and all, crafts this whole playboy persona of his, and locks his heart away. dedicates himself to the downworlder children he keeps adopting and trying to help, reconnects with ragnor and the other warlocks - who kind of knew what was going on and never blamed him for it or for growing distant with them because they’re amazing and probably have seen this happen many times before.

he also carefully avoids mundane men. he’s not risking getting anyone else hurt.

but then there’s the 60s and 70s, and he’s in bloody new york, and the queer community is shaping itself, and goddamn, after all the hurt and pain he’s seen due to sexuality, he’s not gonna ignore this. also, his Adopting Instincts are way too strong anyway, he can’t really see people struggling and not do anything. so he supports queer spaces, probably made pandemonium one, too - a particularly safe queer space, since she could use his wards to keep police out of his business and ensure everyone’s safety. he definitely was there at stonewall and subsequent protests and parades, keeping people safe, weakening gas bombs and the like with magic, making sure they managed to escape jail.

magnus’ relationship with the mundane queer community is kind of weird, then - he’s not an actual part of it, not really, and he’s particularly scared of getting attached then, so he guards his heart with even more determination than everywhere else. but he still wants to help, so he brings in his money, tries to keep them safe, participates in some community activities and volunteers, and occasionally talks to some kids who were just kicked out of home or something, who are dealing with self-loathing and fear, and even though he hasn’t gone through the whole “my sexuality is unnatural” thing or particularly hated that aspect of himself, he does know what it’s like to be cast away and seen as a monster, and to see himself as uncapable of being loved. so he listens and he talks about his experiences and tries to help as much as he can, and for the most part, he’s successful and he feels kind of accomplished in that sense. he might never have hated himself for his sexuality, but this is the first time he is fully able to bring it into his mundane life. and it also helps him deal with and talk about his other issues, even if he can’t be 100% frank about being an immortal being who does magic and shit, he can connect to these people in a lot of ways, and he also has his own scars brought in by homophobia even if they weren’t internalised in the same way. also, there are names popping up for what people are, homosexuality is being decriminalised all over the world (even in england, he’s heard), things are starting to look up.

as the 80s come up, he knows that a lot of things are changing - that white gay guys are getting more and more space, that the word “bisexual” is being popularised, but also that the reason for that is that a lot of gays and lesbians are trying to get bi ppl out of some spaces, that there’s a division going on between people who want to be seen as palatable and are willing to step over others to get it, and people who refuse to blend into an oppressive society, or just can’t, because they’re trans, they’re people of color, they’re sex workers and homeless and they can never be really assimilated when, even if they’re not getting the death penalty, they’re still getting killed and framed as criminals for existing.

magnus is a person of color as well, he’s bisexual (meaning one of the groups that were being cast away and despised by the white, “clean” gay movement) and he’s been there since the beginning, where these exact people that are being driven away were the only ones building the queer movement, so i think it’s pretty obvious who he “sided” with. not much changed in that aspect, then, since the spaces of queer resistance he was used to were the ones created by the “outcasts”. it was disappointing to see a movement that seemed so amazing at first get slowly gentrified and push the most vulnerable people away again, but at this point, he was used to seeing the divide, to drawing the short end, and at least he could continue as he was and try and help people, right? so life was good as a whole.

then the AIDS crisis happened, and shit that was SO rough. people were dying left and right, they had nowhere to go and there was so little he could do. of course he tried his best - pandemonium, like many other similar clubs, was definitely raising money to help the victims, and he was definitely volunteering to help them, along with catarina (who’s better at healing than he is, anyway), but even healing magic isn’t as simple as “begone, disease” and this was a completely new thing, anyway. there was little they could do beyond try and lessen the pain and symptoms and spend countless nights awake doing research and trying to figure out what exactly was causing this and what they could do to help and try to cure it. it’s endlessly frustrating and he gets to see a lot of people he knew, and talked to, and helped, die slowly while he was unable to do much, and shit is that a theme on his life. he also blames himself for not being able to work out a cure - what good is fucking magic if he can’t do this? - even if he and cat do figure out ways to help, at least. but they’re just two people and creating spells isn’t easy and it’s not like their patients have a lot of time, and also he needs to sleep, as cat and dot keep reminding him. the mundanes beat him to it, and for a while he can breathe again. but then there has been so much loss and death the community is in shambles and they’ve been set back one hell of a lot, and magnus is so tired. his friends help him, reassure him that it’s not his fault, and he’s okay, because he’s stronger now, he’s been getting better during all these years and a part of him is used to it - it never hurts less, but it does get easier to push through. 

and then, well, there’s the whole war against valentine thing, and then the accords, so i think for a while magnus was kind of not very involved with the mundane world, and also this is already WAY to long to get into the 2000s and shit, but i will finish by saying that maybe after a few years magnus might get somewhat involved with the community again, because i just. really like the idea of magnus joining some kind of group of bisexual men and learning that SO MANY of them have gone through abusive experiences with straight girls that are scarily similar to his experience with camille, considering, you know, all the other layers involved and the fact that it happened centuries ago. and it kind of works as group therapy, and magnus finally realises that what he went through with camille was abuse, and that he’s not alone, and that queerphobia made him vulnerable, and that the fact that he is part of so many minorities can mean that, rather than not belonging anywhere, he belongs in many places and many different spaces, and he’s helped so many people in so many different ways. and then he finds out that there are other warlocks who are working as therapists and in there he can talk about his immortality issues and, well, other issues and he starts healing faster than before - he’s been healing ever since the breakup with camille, of course, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to open up to alec. like, of course, alec and him are soulmates and shit, but if he wasn’t in a better place he wouldn’t have allowed himself to fall for him like he did. and. yeah. magnus doing therapy and getting better and finding groups where he feels like he belongs, and realising camille was an abuser, please.

#ask #cosmicnovia #luxxmagnus #sh #shadowhunters #meta #magnus bane #magnus bane meta #history tag #queer history #sh meta #overflowing trashcan

[delicrieux]

divination

PART 2: MY GIRL

PAIRING: charlie weasley x reader

summary: charlie has a crush on (name) and tries to act normal around her. surprise! it appears (name) has a crush on him, too also, requested by anons and @ghostwriter050402. a/n: this may or may not be a set up to another fic lol. ANYONE THAT WANTS TO BE TAGGED LEMME KNOOOO!!! ALSO! y’all are THIRSTY FOR CHARLIE!! TBH CAN’T BLAME YOU i love myself a man w a ponytail. i’ve gotten a lot of requests so i put them at the end of the fic as to not take up too much space :) what else what else...oh! thank you everyone for loving my fics! means the whole world to me, really. your comments make my day <3 THANK YOU TO MY BAE @slytherin-princess1 FOR THIS MOODBOARD! SUPPORT MY WIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! xoxo

feedback is always appreciated xoxo

MASTERLIST.  ko-fi (i chug coffee as i write these fics, and another cup would make me happy <3)

Charlie Weasley never really had the chance to talk to you during your first three years at Hogwarts, and he blames it on Quidditch and his lack of suave charm for this ordeal. Bill always raved about how absolutely fantastic you are, what a smart witch, good friend, and a passionate person. He was not even sure how you looked until he saw his brother rush to a short Slytherin girl with the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. He was about to take a sip of pumpkin-juice, though his hand, seeming to have a mind of its own, had halted near his lips and the liquid drizzled helplessly onto his shirt. He hardly even noticed the mess he was making, instead his attention now stuck onto you as his eyes trailed you and Khan wave bye to Bill and take a seat by your table. Bill, too chipper for such an early gloomy morning, sat down next to his brother idly chatting about this and that when—

“Charlie…” Bill started gently, “Are…Are you okay? What happened to your shirt?”

That is how it had all started. Rita Skeeter’s competition made you even more of a target for the public eye, and he suddenly started seeing you everywhere. Perhaps noticing you is the better term to describe it – you are not a ghost, nor have you deliberately taken routes where you knew he was loitering about. If you were missing your usual group of friends, which consisted of some of the brightest and most mischievous students of the time, you were sneaking around the castle looking like a suspicious girl trying to act as inconspicuous as possible. Even before regarding you fully, not just in passing indifferent glances, he had heard of your mission, your brother, and the dangers and chaos that followed after you.

You are just…so cool, how could he not crush on you?

Andre is friends with everyone. He has connections and he knows how to use them, and he also happens to be Charlie’s best friend. Keeping crushes a secret from bothers is easy because they are mostly preoccupied with other things, and Bill is drowning in his Prefect duties as it is. But from best friends? It took exactly five minutes for Andre to notice the dreamy look in Charlie’s eye during dinner one night, and ten minutes to coarse it out of him. With his secret outed, Charlie had desperately shushed his friend when he giggled not so subtly, and only after Andre swore not to say a word about this to anyone did he ease up. After a bit of deliberation, Charlie then asked Andre for a bit of help. Nothing drastic, just something to get your attention, or at the very least inform you of his existence.

And Andre had helped him. In a conversation, which Charlie demanded be described in great detail, that Andre and you had had at Hogsmeade, Andre had named dropped Charlie, completely out of place and out of context. You must have either not noticed or not cared, because it sure as hell sounded weird and awkward.

But as fate has it, he is seated next to you in one of his least favourite lessons – Divination. Though, upon noting your tiny form plopped on a seat by his table, he soon came to change his mind.

The room is hazy and full of light pink and purple smoke, lavender incense, and crackling fire. It’s hot. Fumes stick to his skin, and he has to shake off his robe as in a last attempt to feel less warm. You have long lost yours. No windows are open. The Professor mumbles ghastly into her crystal, her soft whispers a mix of fright and awe. Students mumble quietly amongst themselves. No one dares to break the silence with a laugh, because they know that the professor will freak if they do. The crystal ball resting on his and yours table emits an alluring lilac hue.

The two of you had shared formalities and then fallen into silence, focusing on the task at hand – seeing the future. The Professor had promised that vision would come to all who gaze into the crystal’s depths. Charlie did not buy it for a single second, he even grinned dumbly, about to strike a conversation with you about what absolute bull this class is, only to find you greatly immersed and glaring at the crystal. It then dawned to him that you are, most likely, trying to see your brother in that small glass. That or you are greatly interested in checking out your reflection.

“Is it working for you?” You inquire, your eyes finally lifting from the crystal to him. He shrugs, rolling up his sleeves.

“The only thing I see is me sweating.” He comments dryly. You grin.

“I suppose it is a bit silly,” You agree, “I was hoping to at least get a snippet. The Professor was really into it. Thought I give it a genuine go before wanting to throw it out the window.” Your voice turns bitter, “I think my face is going to melt off.” You mumble, pressing your palms onto your red cheeks. “Do you think we could sneak out of here?”

He chokes on fumes, they burning his throat. We.  Plural. Should he be excited, or are you simply nice enough to want to break him out this horrible class and send him on his merry way? After a few contained coughs, and you giving him a sympathetic look, he nods, “I think if someone came close to death or caused a diversion, we could book it.”

“What if I pretended to faint?” Your voice tints with glee, which is a bit morbid but he doesn’t mind. Your eyes twinkle mischievously in the lilac glow, “You could call the Professor and then carry me to the infirmary or something.”

Carry me. He chokes again. Your hands lands on his upper arm, soothing gently, your voice now laced with concern, “Are you alright, Charlie?”

He nods dumbly, “I think I’m allergic to this smoke.”

“Well, if you faint first I will try my hardest to carry you.” You say with a smile. He grins.

“Yea, good luck with that.”

“I know a few handy charms.”

“Use ‘em often?”

“Only when desperate times call for desperate measures.” You look him in the eye, “You ready?”

“Try not to hit your head on your way down.”

“I am hardly that reckless.” You state and he stares at you expectantly, “Yea, alright, I get it, I’ll be careful.”

Just as you are about to start your act, his eyes catch the strange mirage in the crystal. Curious, he peers into it, and his heart skips a beat – in the haziness he manages to recognise his figure and yours, but it is dark and blurry and hard to understand but he thinks that you and he are in a chamber of some sort. He blinks stupidly, alert and uneasy, about to call your name but once he looks up he sees you lifeless leaning off your chair before you fall and knock the crystal off of the table.

The whole class hears you slump  - it is more the clatter the ball makes as it rolls off of the table and onto marble ground – and a series of gasps along with the Professors confused “What happened?” echo in the hot classroom. Charlie is quick to your aid, jumping from his chair and circling around to lift you, “I think she fainted, Professor.” He explains, worried. Soon he has you in his arms. He notes you trying your hardest not to grin, and he has to fight off a smile too. With you safely in his grasp - honestly, light as a feather – he turns to the Professor, “I will take her to the infirmary.”

“Yes, please do…But be back quick!

Yeah, that’s a no, the two of you share the same line of thought. You and Charlie are only coming back long after class is over, and only to get your stuff back.

After a successful mission the two of you were free for the period. He was a tad disturbed of how good you were at this acting thing, but the adrenaline over being your partner-in-crime had taken hold of him and he could do nothing but smile dumbly at every word you said. The two of you lazily spent the period, lounging in the cooler part of the castle and letting exhaustion take hold of you. The air was fresh and crispy and the ground radiated with cold. The two of you had plenty of time to relax, and once conversation was done with, pleasant silence settled. Which got him thinking back to before you gracefully knocked the crystal ball over with your award winning act. About the two of you, venturing alone, in what he presumes is a dangerous and deadly place. Was that a Cursed Vault? Or perhaps a doorway to it, a room that holds a clue to where it might be. You had taken Bill on an adventure…

Will you be taking him, now?

His eyes then found your form, slumped in one of the beanbags, dozing off. A pang of worry had tugged on his heartstring. You must be so tired, he realised, sleepless. He can only imagine what kinds of nightmares you have about your brother. How painful it must be not knowing where he is. He shuddered at the thought of harm coming to one of his siblings. He would be devastated, a complete mess.

For the rest of the period he thought about you, Jacob, and the Cursed Vaults. His resolve to help you all but became stronger.

The meetups between you two were more frequent. He still mostly conversed with you during Care of Magical Creatures, since it was one of the few classes the two of you had together, but now Divination, instead of being the typical annoying class it used to be, was a thoroughly enjoyed joke fest. Your hello’s, ones that, at the very beginning, were bright and energetic, gradually came to be breathless whispers of ‘…Hi’ accompanied by a lovely smile as you met him in a hall or elsewhere.

He fit in perfectly in your group of misfits. And after nearly half a year of growing closer, it was finally time to explore the Cursed Vault hidden somewhere in the Forbidden Forest. The only problem was locating it, but thankfully, Tulip had snooped around and found a chamber that might contain a map. Bill was supposed to accompany you. That idea did not sit well with Charlie. So after thinking it over, the same night his older brother was supposed to meet you in the dungeons, he had caught him in the Common Room.

It was a clear night, starry. It was four in the morning and only ashes left in the fireplace. The Common Room was void of life, just books scattered, pillows lying on the floor, and blankets messily thrown to the side – they were remnants of activity. Charlie called his brother in a raspy, sleep ridden voice, and Bill had nearly jumped out of his skin, already near the portrait.

“Can I go, instead?” Charlie asked. Bill had frowned, about to question why on earth he would want to, but Charlie quickly interjected, “Please.” He mumbled, “You already went with her…Can you just…give me a chance?”

Surprised and a bit reluctant, Bill had agreed.

That’s how it had happened. Of course, when you had gasped seeing Charlie loitering about the dungeons and not Bill, he had explained to you that “Bill’s busy. Completely forgot about the essay he put away for the last day. Woke me up ten minutes ago, to be honest.”

The dungeons are damp, cold, and quiet. Your footsteps echo off of the walls and short ceiling, almost creating vertigo. It’s dark. No light, just a dim glow of the glossy walls. He can’t make out your face, just your silhouette, and even then only after a while of walking in complete darkness. It is a bit eerie. You can’t afford to shine Lumos – that might give you away. If Snape is even anywhere near these parts, he would surely notice the odd change in lighting.

He grows unease by the minute. You are uncharacteristically quiet. Granted, you might just be scared to speak in case of a spy lurking about, but still, not even a comment? Joke? Inquiry? Completely unlike you, and he knows you well enough by now that you are a chatter box that will argue her way into her grave so having you not whispering or giggling is highly disturbing. He figures you are scared. That’s fine’. He is, too.

“Don’t worry.” His voice never grows higher the sound of your soft footsteps, as his hand, clumsily grasps yours in the dark, “I’m here.”

Your fingers intertwine with his firmly, and he feels warmth spread through his whole body, “You were so silent that I forgot.” You murmur. He practically hears you smiling.

The walk to the secret chamber grows ridiculously short. He feels as if he had just gotten used to feeling your small hand in his when, inevitably, he had to let you go. The passage way had opened with a charm that fell from your lips and a spark from your wand. Once the two of you entered, it closed shut behind you, solid as stone and as if never there to begin with.

The room is airy and cool; a familiar lilac glow illuminates the scarce décor and he has to shut his eyes hurriedly as they sting from the sudden change in lighting, Once he adjusts, he is alert and ready to assist you. He finds you immersed in some letters found in a nearby bin.

“This…” You start, eyeing the papers warily, “Might take a while.”

Charlie shrugs with a sympathetic smile, “I’ve got time.” He assures you.

“Up for some light reading?”

“Define light.”

“Thousands of pages.”

“…Can I skim?”

“If you find the map or at least an allusion to it, you can eat these papers for all I care.”

“Don’t say that to Barnaby. He might be tempted.”

He felt emotionally and physically beaten after thirty minutes or so. The letters you had given him were mostly about books and taxes and other boring things alike, and before long he had sat down onto the ground. There are no seats here, after all, and the floor is hardly the most comfortable, but it beats standing. What is more, he is tired, and sleepy, and if it was not for the pinching cold he is reminded of each time he exhales a puff of smoke, he would surely be snoring.

He notes you squirm after a while. You had been sitting next to him, then away, and then close by again, lastly you had laid down, but even then your attempts were futile. It was painful watching you. So ridden with stress, sleep deprivation, and his feelings for you, he had, without even contemplating, suggested that—

“You can sit in my lap.” That promptly woke him up; choked up, he added, “I already carried you…so…it’s like that. Just…I’m sitting. And it’s cold. I could start a fire, though.” He suggests awkwardly, a bright red blush blooming on his freckled cheeks. You simply stare at him, void of words, the letters between your fingers long forgotten. After a pause, he notes you blush like a rose and nod shakily. You pick yourself off of the ground – and the letters that spill from your grasp – and make your way to him. He watches you approach with a racing heart. Merlin, why can’t he be cool and collected like Bill is?!

Your body is like a furnace, heating his frosted fingers and making him smile shyly into your shoulder. His arms wrap around your waist and your back hits his chest. You hurriedly pull the parchment to hide your face, and he wonders can you even read anything from so close. He catches a whiff of your perfume and his heart skips a beat. Really, this was not a good idea. How will he focus now?!

“…Hey…Charlie?” You squeak. He clears his throat.

“Yes, (Name)?”

“You know… The Yule Ball is coming up, and I…wasn’t planning on going, but...” You tilt your head to get a look at him; once your eye meets his, your lips quirk upwards into a lovely smile, “If…you wanted to go…”

“I best get my suit ready, then.” He grins at you, squeezing you closer. With a pleased smile you turn back to the letters, “But…shouldn’t I be the one to ask you?”

“Were you going to?”

“Well…no—“

“My point exactly.”

 BONUS:

The windows are dotted with snowflakes; outside a storm rages over the castle, icy wind howling. A glimpse of it can be caught once doors open. It is usually Hagrid carrying Christmas decorations, or an occasional pine tree.  Festive music echoes in the halls. The students whisper amongst themselves what they will do on holiday, who they will invite to the dance. The atmosphere is sweet and gleeful. Couples in love use the odd mistletoe to smooch and be screamed at by Prefects and teachers alike.

It’s late in the evening and you had just picked up some Potions books from the Library once you ran into Bill. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d say he was waiting for you to emerge. You greet him with a smile as you pull the heavy tombs closer to your chest. He returns the grin with a nervous twitch, and falls into step with you. The two of you chat the whole way to the staircase leading to the dungeons, where you stop to give him a quick hug. Once you turn to leave he calls after you, breathless, a question leaving his lips.

“Do you want to go to the Yule Ball with me?”

You freeze in place. Gulping, a tad saddened to be the bearer of bad news, you look at him helplessly, offering an apologetic smile, “Oh, I’m sorry, Bill…But…Someone already asked me…” You admit, “And I said yes.”

His face crumbles a bit, but he soon glosses over the obvious hurt of rejection with a cheery, “Oh! Well, save me a dance, then. Catch you later?”

“I’m sorry, Bill—“

But he’s already on his way back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

 requests:  can you do a cute lil charlie weasley x mc?? it can be about anything tbh,, i just love him so much and i adore your writing!!! /  Your “won’t he?” gave me soooo many feelings! In the part 1 I saw you hint (sort of) a Charlie/Reader. I love Charlie since forever, so could you write a OS with him, pretty please? /  HEY ITS ME THE CHARLIE/MC ANON IVE HEAD REQUESTS ARE OPEN gfgfhg so if its really ok to request what about charlie with the biggest crush on mc ( a slytherin girl like in won't he? ) and just. he is such a dork. idek what to write im too excited just plz gimme lovesick charlie fghgh /  OMGGGG YOUR HOWARTS MYSTERY FANFICS ARE SO GOOD ITS JUST..AHH! SO SO CUTE! BUT broke my heart with bill, i do love felix ❤❤❤ but what if you try write a what if bill did tell her how he felt?? or more a one shot where charlie finally got the guts to talk and spend time with mc??? its all so good i cant wait for more! /  Heyyy can you write a Charlie Weasley from hogwarts mystery please? /  can we please get some charlie weasley fics going ? or one shots ? 😩 hphm charlie has me head over heels 😭

forever tags: @scarletraine- @brahwhytho- @smilesfromabove- @pharaohkiller - @victoriaelvendorkweasley-@onehellofdevilotaku- @eyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy- @phillipas00- @xxcrowfeatherxx- @cupcakestyleshood- @invisibilityrocks- @nephalem67 - @chwechwechwe - @porpentyna - @lesbianheartbreaker - @banjosanjo - @madswheelers - @sombodymaybeawatson - @disneyfanatic77 - @superanonymousreader - @aliypop​ - @slytherinyour-chambers - @onehellofdevilotaku - @victoriaelvendorkweasley - @pharaohkiller - @smilesfromabove - @brahwhytho - @scarletraine

#charlie weasley #imagine #imagines #hogwarts mystery #charlie weasley x reader #bill weasley #bill weasley imagine #hm #harry potter #tulip #barnaby lee #charlie x reader #rowan khan #penny haywood #tonks #felix rosier #angelica cole #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #fandom #multifandom #Gryffindor #slytherin #hufflepuff #ravenclaw #hogwarts #hp #hp imagines #hm imagine #reader

[greenslime69]

A Fighter and a God (Pt. 6)

A/N: Wow it's been a while huh? This chapter is shorter than the others, it may take me a bit to properly get back into writing.

Super sorry this is so late I've been totally stacked up with searching for jobs and preparing for my dad’s wedding which is in a weeks time!! Also I spilled Domino’s garlic and herb sauce on my keyboard about a month ago, turns out that's not really good for the keys lmao so most of this was typed up on my phone haha

This fic is also on my AO3

You can support me here too (if you like)

Summary: You’re a fighter on Sakaar with the power to teleport over short distances (similar to movie!Nightcrawler) and Loki takes an interest in you.

Pairing: Eventual Loki x Reader

Pt. 1 / Pt. 2 / Pt. 3 / Pt. 4 / Pt. 5 / Pt.6

Your POV

It was three days after Loki last visited when the doctors said you were being sent back down to the rest of the fighters. You'd known from the start that they only wanted to make you able to fight again, no one up top cares about a fighters wellbeing. Except Loki, but he hasn't visited since you told him to help his brother. You assume that means he has taken your advice, which is good, but you do miss seeing him. The girl with a plastered on smile in a skimpy outfit is waiting by the door as you gather the few possessions you have before she escorts you back to the fighters' quarters. "Okay, I'm ready," you finally sigh. The girl just continues to smile and gestures for you to walk through the door.

You both walk out of the hospital area in somewhat awkward silence. The girl's posture would be perfect if she didn't look so uptight as she walks slightly in front of you. You haven't had any sort of friendly interaction in days so you guess it’s worth a shot.

"So I've seen you around before uh, what do you do?" You attempt to sound casual. She stops walking and looks at you quizzically, still keeping the smile on her face. "I serve." She answers simply and continues to walk, as if nothing had interrupted her. Your brows furrow a little as you both step inside an elevator. "You don't have to be so uptight around me, y'know? I have to serve those pricks too." The girl's smile falters minutely. "I don't know what you mean." She purposefully looks upwards and you follow her gaze to see a camera. "Oh..." You say under your breath, returning your own gaze to the floor. The girl mustn't be allowed to relax at all, you guessed if she did she would be punished.With nothing else to do you begin to fidget with your hands and let your thoughts wander to the pale, dark haired man who trusts you enough to tell you his entire terrible life story. For some reason you feel that you can trust him too. You frown as you realise that you trusted him even before he opened up to you. You are pulled from your thoughts as you see the elevator doors part in front of you and the girl gestures for you to follow her again.

You stop at a door and a guard punches something into a number pad to unlock it. The girl leads you in and the door closes behind you. You’re filled with some sort of ease as you take in the familiar sight of the fighters’ quarters.

“It’s okay, there are no cameras in here.” you say, as soon as you’re sure the guard on the other side of the door won’t hear you, “They don’t really care what we do outside of the ring.” The girl looks around, still unsure, so you give her your best reassuring smile. Her own plastered on smile slowly changes to a small genuine one. “So do you have a name?” you ask, “What can I call you?” she thinks for a moment.

“My friends used to call me Cloud,” she answers. Now she has relaxed her voice sounds soft and tired. You make a ‘follow me’ motion and lead her further in to where you assume the other fighters are hanging out.

You get a few welcome backs and pats on the shoulder from some of the fighters. Korg is overly concerned about your wellbeing and attempts to hug you before realising it could do more harm than good. No one seems to care about the new person you brought in and Cloud looks a little anxious about all the people so you decide not to introduce her yet.

After a short while Cloud is introducing herself and getting along well with some of the less scary looking fighters. You smile to yourself, happy that you could at least lighten someone else's day.

You, however, are still in a low mood due to Loki, or rather a lack of him. Back in the hospital any time you weren't occupied your thoughts would drift to him. You have friends, even close ones, among the fighters but they don't plague your mind as Loki does. What is it about him?

Suddenly there comes a loud blast and the door you and Cloud entered through is blown inwards. The disk on your neck makes a noise and falls to the ground, you notice this is happening to everyone else too. Korg stands to move in front of all the fighters in a protective manner. A women with a large gun appears where the door was seconds ago. You recognise her as one of the scrappers.

“I'm looking for Korg.” you feel someone grab your arm and turn to see Cloud, terrified. You place your hand over hers and give here a reassuring smile. She didn't need to know that you were scared too.

“The lord of thunder sends his best.” this brings your attention back to the scrapper woman. You recall Loki saying something about his brother and thunder. She throws her gun to Korg who cocks it and proudly lifts his chin. Your own posture relaxes.

“The revolution has begun!”

Tag list: @first-name-last-name @crofting-through-tombs (just shoot me an ask if you want to be tagged in future updates!)

#slimes writing #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x you #loki fanfiction #a fighter and a god

[maychorian]

Weekly Voltron Fic Recs #50

I am still not caught up on all the fics I’ve read that need to be commented on and recced. You might be getting another list in a few days, if I can keep up the momentum I’m currently on.

Rules: You can find past weekly rec lists here, and non-list recs in my general fic rec tag. Also follow @maychorianrecs for individually tagged posts, the easier to search and reblog. This is stuff I like, and I have a huge bias toward Lance, hurt/comfort, and general fluff, in that order. Gen unless otherwise noted. Please comment on the fics if you read and enjoy them!

Keith Doesn’t Have Time for Ghosts by aeruh for Forest_of_bread Words: 5,309 Author’s Summary: The Castle of Lions is haunted again, for real this time. Thankfully, Keith is a witch and knows how to deal with it. Unfortunately, he’s the only one who knows how to deal with it. My Comments: Keith’s approach to witchcraft and exorcism is absolutely hilarious. This was such a fun read from start to finish.

Breaking the Barriers by wingedflower Words: 4,277 Author’s Summary: A sequel to “Break Out, Break Down”. After Lance’s claustrophobia has casued him to collapse mid-training, Shiro decides it’s time for the paladins to have a heart-to-heart talk about their fears and phobias. My Comments: Sequel to a previously recced fic that’s one of my absolute favorites. It’s actually saved in my Favorite Fics folder at work so I can break it out when I’m feeling particularly in need some good Lance h/c. Anyway, this one is more focused on everyone else rather than Lance, but it’s still really lovely to see them all talking things out and supporting each other BEFORE it hits the fan.

BLUR by limeadepeels Words: 1,209 Author’s Summary: “Allura,” Lance says, “I don’t want you to freak out, okay?” “Why would I–” “You have a hole in your tummy,” Lance says like the soft words will minimize the seriousness of the situation. “I have my hands over it and I’m trying to seal it off. I need you to help me by not moving and not freaking out until we have an extraction, all right?” Allura does her part and stays very, very still. My Comments: Hurt Allura and comforting Lance is such a fantastic dynamic. I would love to see more like this from the fandom.

Precipitous by mongoose_bite Words: 1,933 Author’s Summary: Kolivan knows orbital decay when he sees it, and knows if too much force is applied to correct it the object will be flung into space, unrecoverable. Nevertheless, he resolves to try. After the events at Naxzela someone needs to talk to Keith. My Comments: Great fic with Kolivan taking pains to ground Keith after he almost flew off the rails. I’m a big fan of this sort of father-son interaction between these two.

Identity by Revasnaslan Words: 1,034 Author’s Summary: Cubs weren’t supposed to be up in the middle of the night, but Kolivan does his best to be patient with the ones that are. — Written for Keith Birthday Day 2 (Identity) My Comments: Very cute interaction between Kolivan and wee Keith.

Not Just Another Rescue by Eastofthemoon Words: 8,568 Author’s Summary: Keith spends some time with his new human friends at the mall. However, when he finds himself whisked away by Kolivan to return home, last thing Keith expected was for his new friends to come chasing after him. My Comments: Sequel to a previously recced fic in which the other paladins run across BoM Keith in a space mall and decide to befriend. I love the misunderstanding that fuels this one, and seeing Keith comfortable enough to be a brat with Kolivan was really cute and heartwarming.

The Lost Paladin by prettyshiroic (AnalystProductions) Words: 17,991 Author’s Summary: If he doesn’t leave, all of him will be reduced to cinders. But if he leaves, all of him will be undone. A course that he will choose to chart, no matter how it breaks his heart. It’s a battle that cannot be won.- Their names burn inside him, seared onto his soul. Black coal sits in the centre of his chest, fuelling a fire that was soon to be smothered by the very people that set it ablaze. My Comments: This is painful, but very well done. After the war is done and it seems like Voltron is going to disband, Keith leaves the team before they can leave him. Years together he’s found again, but it takes quite a bit of work to reconnect.

Safe Spaces by BluePlanetTrash Words: 1,620 Author’s Summary: Whenever Lance felt sick at home, he would find a small place to curl up until he felt better. Too bad the other paladins didn’t know this when Lance suddenly goes missing. My Comments: Cute little fic with everyone panicking over Lance, aww. He’s fine.

something wicked by ashinan Words: 8,206 (2/4) Author’s Summary: It’s been weeks since Shiro went toe to toe with the white haired demon in that old house. When the next haunted excursion leads the gang to a supernatural Bed and Breakfast, a new player makes itself known. My Comments: Sequel to a previously recced fic. This AU is so good. I love Shiro’s protectiveness, as always, though it’s a bit frustrating and I just want him to TELL the others what’s going on, holy crow. The spooky descriptions and action sequences work really, really well, and it’s just all around delightful to read and immerse myself in this story.

what goes up by eugyne (AreteNike) must come down by eugyne (AreteNike) the law of gravity by eugyne (AreteNike) Words: 2,991, 3,255, 2,713 Author’s Summary: All Mark Kogane has left is his infant son and the empty sky. All Mirana Espinosa has left is her infant son and the memories of other times. All Colleen Holt has left is her teenage daughter and her husband’s collection of extraterrestrial paraphernalia. (This series can be read in any order.) My Comments: I really loved this canon-divergence AU built on the POVs of three parents who lose their partners, their foundations, and their children. The worldbuilding and character interactions were both fantastic and fascinating. Each story is satisfying alone, but reading all three really gives a sense of meat and heft to the world. I would happily read more in this ‘verse.

i used to recognise myself (it’s funny how reflections change) by watervld (helpmechildren) Words: 2,671 Author’s Summary: Everyone expects Lance to be with Hunk, because that’s the way it works; Lance and Hunk, side by side, taking down whatever bad guy stands in their path through excessive screaming and heartfelt reunions. Lance isn’t with him. Everyone starts to worry. My Comments: Lance disappears, and when he’s found again, he has amnesia and it’s years later. Bittersweet, emotional fic, kinda sticks in the brain. There’s a note of hope at the end, but it’s not a fluffy fic, just to warn you.

Two Inch Trust by SilverArson Words: 2,361 Author’s Summary: The Velqi have mastered transporting large amounts of material through small containers. When the paladins attempt to rescue victims of an illegal slave trade, Lance is trapped and they aren’t sure how to get him out. My Comments: A cracky premise treated seriously, which is the best way to do a cracky premise, sometimes. Anyway, Lance gets shrunk and stuck in a jar, and it’s more intense and scary than funny. Great protectiveness from the team.

Tastes Like Coffee by itsthevoid Words: 2,213 Author’s Summary: All Hunk has ever wanted was to live a normal life. Being a technopath who works at the most supernatural café in the word, that is all but impossible. At least Lance is still normal, even if he drinks Pumpkin Spice Lattes a bit too often. Or: AU where everyone is supernatural and works at an even more supernatural café, and neither Lance nor his coffee is what Hunk thinks it is. My Comments: The worldbuilding in this AU is fantastic, and the Hunk and Lance interaction is wonderful. I would happily read something much, much longer in this setting.

make yourself right, never mind them (don’t you know you’re not the only one suffering?) byorange_yarn Words: 3,143 Author’s Summary: Missing scenes for Reunion & Black Site. Matt feels the need to make amends. He’s not the only one.Fill for the “atonement” prompt on my hurt/comfort bingo card. My Comments: I wish we got something like this in canon, but fanfiction is great for filling in these emotional gaps.

sleep now, and dream of the ones who came before by prettyshiroic (AnalystProductions) Words: 1,746 Author’s Summary: Keith pulls his own strings, but his trembling hands can hold nothing right now. The final pieces of his composure slip, evade his reach. He trips, on the verge of his own unravelling. My Comments: Kolivan is a good dad. 4.01 missing scene.

Serenity by this_book_has_been_loved Words: 1,238 Author’s Summary: Lance has trouble sleeping, and decides to take a walk My Comments: I always love Pidge and Lance supporting each other.

Nightmares by luoup (ravenic) Words: 1,599 Author’s Summary: Day 1 Prompt 2: Nightmares Nightmare coping techniques My Comments: Cute and midlly bittersweet fic with the entire team coping together.

Icarus et Dea Tacita by DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee Words: 7,356 Author’s Summary: She’s drenched in blood; she’s literally cut open, how-? Keith doesn’t know, and the closer he is to her the more certain he becomes that he’s seen her before, that this is one of Lotor’s generals, but he knows he’s going to try to save her. No soldier or civilian left behind. Shiro’s taught him so much, but he learned that one from Pidge and Lance and Hunk.While on a mission for the Blade, Keith finds a dying Narti and saves her life. Friendship ensues. My Comments: What a fantastic premise. Keith and Narti form such an interesting and natural friendship, two people who don’t quite feel like they belong anywhere. It was a pleasure to watch them slowly figuring out how to relate to each other. The worldbuilding is great, too. I would be pleased if canon was something like this.

Of Tremors, of Quake, of Rushing Landslides, of Broken Vale by twilighteve Words: 12,268 Author’s Summary: Lance’s eyes widened. “Oh man. You’re like our own Toph from Avatar.” Hunk blinked, because that was actually a pretty accurate description of what he was feeling. “I’m like Toph,” he echoed, a smile on his face. Hunk discovers his powers and beats a bunch of giant alien insects with the team. Also, he cusses alien badgers a storm. My Comments: Part of a series in which the paladins discover they have elemental powers. I love to see Hunk coming into his own in this. The worldbuilding is great and the action and adventure aspects are super fun, and protective Hunk is fantastic. Just a really, really fun read.

Number One Fan by Araloth Words: 4,255 Author’s Summary: Lance discovers a forum for fans of Voltron after one of their shows and can’t help diving into it. My Comments: Absolutely adorable. I loved how the mystery was solved in the end. Protective teammates are the best.

The Drifter by Bandity Words: 15,959 Author’s Summary: The team needs to figure out what’s wrong with Lance, before it’s too late. My Comments: Very cool fic with a great premise and fantastic execution. There are several scenes that were really memorable, and the worldbuilding is interesting and feels like a real place, if a bit spooky. Love Shiro and Hunk taking such a good care of Lance, as always. A great fic for Halloween. Going into my favorites, of course.

Previously Recced Fics That Updated:

As Color Fades Away (205120 words) Why it sucks to be a snake in space(47136 words) The Sea In Between (74253 words) Young Blood (7636 words) Road Trip to End Times (20349 words) Shadows of Stars (52425 words) Fusion Confusion (21601 words)

#voltron legendary defender #weekly voltron fic recs #fic rec #vldgen

[askullinajar]

The Shattered Frame (Part 5/7)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Fic info: this is a sequel to my previous fic, The Living Ghost so go read that or this won’t make sense. Rating: General. Pairings: Lucy/Lockwood, Holly/Rani. Ao3 link: here.

A cluster of hauntings in a decrepit manor and the dripping spectre of a woman dressed all in black hits a little too close to home for Lockwood & Co’s newest member.

WARNING: There’s some detail about near-drowning at the start. Idk if anyone will be affected by that, but if you are, I won’t be offended if you skip it. Just Ctrl + F your way to ‘strong hands’. Happy reading, everyone!

Part 5 – An Icy Swim

The cold hit me all at once, seeping into my clothes, biting into my skin. My heart raced, blood rushed in my ears, I almost gasped for air in my blind panic. As a reflex, I thrashed around, frantically trying to get back to the surface, but I’d fallen in at an odd angle and struggled to contort my body the right way around.

After a terrifying few seconds, I managed to force my way to the surface, but I barely had time to gasp for air, and to see Lockwood being blasted back from the pool with Elizabeth reaching out for him, before the water churned around me and dragged me under again.

Lockwood. He needed help. I needed to help him.

I kicked my legs frantically, trying to fight against the heavy equipment on my belt that was pulling me down, but my hefty boots weighed my legs down. That, the numbing cold, the ghost lock creeping into my heart… it all made my movements sluggish.

I reached out and grasped at the edge of the pool, but my hands slid on the slimy tiles. My lungs screamed for oxygen. I tried to keep a grip on the edge of the pool, tried to gather enough strength to haul myself up.

Distantly, I heard people shouting. I recognised my friends’ voices; George and Kipps, then Holly and Skully. They’d help Lockwood. He’d be okay.

My head pounded painfully, my chest burned. I was cold, so cold. And tired.

I couldn’t stifle my reflexes anymore. I gasped for air, and water rushed into my lungs in its place. My fingers slipped from the tiles…

Then strong hands grabbed my arms and hauled me out of the water.

I sat there, on the wet grass, pressed up against Lockwood’s chest and coughing water up.

“Lucy? Lucy, are you alright?”

I gasped for air between coughing fits, and each breath seemed to rip my throat apart on the way down. I clutched at the arm Lockwood had around my torso for support, shivering violently. He was staring at me, eyes wide and frantic.

“Oh, I’m just dandy,” I croaked out at last, though I guess I didn’t convince him because he removed his coat and wrapped it tightly around me.

The others stood nearby, looking terrified as they gazed down at me.

“What happened?” I said.

“We got here just as it… Elizabeth was about to touch Lockwood,” Holly said. “Skully sort of…blasted her away.”

I looked over at my friend. He seemed pale and was staring into space with hollow eyes.

George seemed to have noticed, too. “Alright there, Skully? You look like –”

“If you say like I’ve seen a ghost, I’m cutting you,” Skully said, looking up abruptly to shoot George a glare.

“Jeez, why’re you so tetchy?” George said, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

“Maybe because my best friend nearly drowned!”

“Oh, so now you care about people?”

“Lucy? Sure. If you wanted to take a dip in the pool, however –”

“Stop it!” I shouted. “Both of you, stop it! You’ll only make her stronger if you fight.”

“Maybe we should just call it a night,” Kipps suggested.

“No,” I said. “We can get this place cleared tonight, I know we can. I’m not letting that bitch hang around, so she can try and drown anyone else.”

“Lucy, you’re soaking wet and freezing,” Holly tried to reason. “You need to warm up or you’ll catch a cold. Or worse.”

“There’s a fireplace in the living room, we should be able to start a fire,” said Lockwood. “At least stay there and warm up while the rest of us handle this.”

I didn’t want to agree with him – I wanted to track that ghost’s source down and snuff it out for good – but I guess I wouldn’t be much use in the state I was in, so I nodded.

Holly still looked concerned. “It’ll take forever for your clothes to dry. You could still get sick.”

“I’ll dry her off first,” said Skully.

George raised an eyebrow at him. “And how d’you plan on doing that?”

Skully cracked his knuckles. “I have my ways. Luce, see that porch railing? Go hang onto it as tight as you can.”

It was with great apprehension that I slipped out of Lockwood’s coat and approached the railing, but I was desperate to warm up; my sopping clothes weighed me down and I was numb all over. I wrapped my stiff fingers as tight as I could around the railing.

“Ready?” said Skully.

“No.”

The gust of psychic wind nearly sent me flying, but I held on even tighter and squeezed my eyes closed. My hair whipped painfully against my face, my clothes flapped harshly around me. It wasn’t nearly as cold as most ghostly winds, I’d give him that, but still far from pleasant, and when it finally died down, I glared daggers at Skully.

“I h-h-hate y-you,” I said as my teeth chattered together and I shivered violently.

“You’re welcome,” said Skully, as Lockwood came over and wrapped his coat back around me. I was still freezing, but at least my clothes were now relatively dry, if completely wrinkled.

I sat, cross-legged, in the centre of the iron chain in the living room while the others ran around collecting firewood and building a fire. I don’t know how she’d managed to find them, but Holly bundled me up in several moth-eaten blankets, so Lockwood could have his coat back.

“Try not to smother her, Hol,” George said, snickering as Holly continued to fuss over me, pouring me mugs of boiling tea from our thermoses. I didn’t mind so much; with the roaring fire, the piles of blankets, and the warm cup of tea in my hands, feeling was finally starting to return to my body. It hurt like hell, but at least it was something.

Lockwood eyed Skully, who was still seeming a little off; he hadn’t insulted George in a whole ten minutes, it was kind of disconcerting. Lockwood clapped a hand on his shoulder. “How about you stay here and keep an eye on Lucy. Make sure she stays out of trouble.”

Skully shrugged. “I mean, I’ll try, but I can’t promise anything.”

I shot both of them an unimpressed look.

Lockwood came over to where I was sitting and knelt in front of me. “You sure you’re okay, Luce? You gave me a fright there.”

I smiled at him. “I’m fine. Had to add nearly drowning to my list of near-death experiences at some point, I guess.” I didn’t tell him that my lungs still burned. That I could still feel the water pressing in on me.

Lockwood laughed, but it was short and sounded forced. “I’d rather you stopped having any near-death experiences at all.”

“Yeah, well, join the club.”

Lockwood just looked at me for a moment, his brows pulled slightly together, and his mouth tugged up a little at the corners. I wish I knew what he was thinking. Then he leant forwards and pressed his lips to my forehead.

“We’ll get this place sorted out. Stay safe, Lucy.”

“You too, Anthony.”

His cheeks got a faint pink dusting at that, and I committed that look to memory. Then I watched as he, George, Kipps, and Holly ventured back out of the living room to confront the Visitors, leaving me alone with Skully.

He walked forwards and sat beside me in the iron circle. I unwrapped the top blanket layer and draped it over both our shoulders.

“You okay?” I said.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just seem a little off, that’s all. Do you wanna talk about it?”

I was met with silence. I took that as a no and looked back at the fire.

“My family are only a few hours away from here,” I said, changing the subject. “I’m half tempted to pay a visit.”

“Why don’t you?”

I shrugged. “My sisters are all scattered. I don’t really get along with my mum. I could always just visit Mary, I suppose.”

“She your favourite?”

I glanced over at him. “Didn’t you have a favourite sibling?”

There was a pause, then, “My twin, I guess.”

I nearly spat out the tea I’d been sipping on. “Twin?! There was more than one of you in the world?!”

He rolled his eyes. “Twin sister.”

“Marginally better, I suppose,” I conceded. “Which one of you was born first?”

He huffed. “She was. But that made me the incredible seventh child, so can’t complain much.”

I frowned. “I’m a seventh child. Why’s that so special?”

“Not heard all the folklore around seventh children?” he said. “Why d’you think your Talents are so strong? Why d’you think Bickerstaff hired me?”

I shrugged it off, though I had been wondering why my Talent had been doing the opposite of fading as I got older. “What was your sister like?”

He shrugged. “Stubborn, bit of a temper, wanted people to think she was all strong and mature but she was actually a huge dork.”

The description sounded like someone I knew, but I couldn’t quite think who. “She sounds cool.”

He picked at a loose thread in the blanket. “Yeah, she was.”

He seemed uncomfortable with the conversation, so I let the matter drop. I shuffled closer and rested my head on his shoulder.

“You’re being soppy again,” he told me.

“I nearly froze to death. I need the warmth.”

“I don’t know how much warmth you’re gonna get from a half-dead guy.”

“Shut up and let me be soppy.”

We sat in companionable silence for a while, watching the flames dance and listening to the wood crackle. I could hear a few distant sounds – water dripping, faint voices – but no Visitors bothered us in the living room.

“Thanks for saving Lockwood, by the way,” I said, after a while.

“You would’ve killed me if I didn’t,” Skully replied.

“True, but we both know that’s not why. You’re becoming best buds.”

Skully scoffed. “Sure. I’ll be the best man at your wedding.”

I ignored the way my heart jolted at the thought of marrying Lockwood one day. “Shut up,” I told him. “Besides, you can’t do that when you’re giving me away.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Am I, now?”

“I mean, my dad’s dead. I don’t have any uncles or brothers or anything. You’ll have to do.”

“Charming.”

We heard a crash come from downstairs. I sat bolt upright, listening. I heard a scream – Kipps, I think – followed by a shout from Lockwood, then, faintly, the gush of water.

I lurched to my feet and grabbed my discarded rapier.

“Lucy,” Skully warned. “You need to rest. They can handle it.” But I was already charging out of the door, towards the stairs to the basement.

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#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #locklyle #lucewood #jonathan stroud #fanfic #fic #teg #post teg #i didn't make you wait too long this time #youre welcome #lets just ignore the fact that i have an essay due in like a week #i have a cold anyway #also #i figure after what i just put lucy through i should let her swear #heads up the next chapters gonna be super angsty #sorry in advance #rowan writes