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drivestraight · 16 days

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Obv no pressure!!!!!!!!! And sorry if it comes off that way ❤️❤️ I was just wondering if u would ever consider posting the 4fic?? Just on tumblr even

i keep forgetting OMG but here is part 1 (4.2k)

THE SET-UP

They don’t do this very often anymore. Hang out, just the four of them.

George, Alex, Lando, and Charles.

To get closer to the truth, it’s not like the four of them ever properly hung out at any point in time, in the strictest sense of the phrase. They’d stream together on Twitch during COVID, yes, and they get on well in the paddock. But that doesn’t exactly count, when George thinks about it. Not even in 2019 did the four of them ever really hang out willingly, outside of work, not even just George, Alex, and Lando, no matter how much media they were shoved into together throughout the year. These past four years, they’ve just all been too busy. Besides, Charles and Lando have their own friend circles. Charles prefers his hometown Monegasque friends. Lando has Max F and Max V and Martin G and Daniel R and Quadrant and—whatever the fuck ever, really.

George and Alex, well. Different case. Not the point.

Even closer to the truth: they had more time and less fame before Formula 1, and they would hang out outside of races. Underage pub crawls, house parties with friends from secondary, even during their F2 season. Which George won, by the way.

So.

Formula 2.

George, Alex, and Lando were close back then despite being competitors. They were the weirdos. No one liked Lando because his dad was rich and bought him a spot in McLaren’s junior academy; no one liked Alex because he was a Red Bull junior and Asian, but not Asian enough; and no one liked George because—he was George.

Jokes on everyone else. They were the winners. They’re the ones who made it to F1.

All this to say: the three of them were close back then, but they’re not as close anymore. Still, good times. They had many good times.

One memory George holds quite dear to his heart is Alex accidentally knocking Lando into a bush that George puked on. Yes, George is quite fond of that night.

But then, that three-way friendship didn’t exactly include Charles at all. All of them were friends and friendly with Charles even in karting, but those days, Charles wasn’t exactly part of their little group. It was just George and Alex and Lando. Or George and Alex.

Which is probably why they’re here, in Charles’ teeny tiny flat.

They were in Spa, the four of them chatting before free practice. Alex had offhandedly asked why they haven’t gone on their little drunken adventures like they used to. Then, Charles made a shocked noise, small and offended, and demanded to be included.

Demanded is probably a strong word. His eyes went wide and curious. He tilted his head to the side and pouted at Alex, then Alex spluttered and said, Of course, you should come!

As if they had tangible plans.

However, they ended up making plans, and it was a miracle that they all had a weekend free in Monaco before Alex fucked off with Lily to Majorca.

And it’s not like George doesn’t like Charles.

He likes Charles a lot, actually.

It’s just, sometimes—

All the time.

It’s hard to tell what his humor is. George’ll say something, try to crack a joke, and Charles will look at him with these big, round, open eyes. Not understanding, or worse, understanding, and choosing not to play along.

Not in a, like, malicious way. But in a why did you say that? sort of way. Which is probably worse. He’s always very nice about it, very earnest. But his sincerity knocks George off-guard. Sometimes, George wishes Charles was more like Alex, laughing at everything and playing everything off like a joke just to maintain an ounce of control. Twist things the way he wants them to be twisted.

Right, yes. Charles.

It’s easier with him online. Voice chat. That way, George doesn’t have to see his microexpressions and feel self-conscious, analyzing each of their conversations.

Charles has a very expressive face.

Alex gets on with him a lot better.

He makes Charles laugh, a lot. A lot. And while George has made Charles laugh plenty of times, it’s never actually been on purpose. It is more like—George saying something unintentionally funny, and Charles slowly bursting into giggles, or Lando and Alex making George the butt of the joke and Charles laughing along just because he wants to fit in.

Ah. George needs to be more charitable.

Returning to Charles’ teeny tiny flat:

They’ve just gotten back from Jimmy’z. Honestly, George was having a great time: Alex was all giggly on his shoulder sipping on a fruity cocktail and Lando had been up by the DJ stage and Charles was off at the bar chatting with some girl. But then Charles sprinted to them and tugged on George’s arm and said, We need to leave.

So they left.

They found Lando first, of course, floundering as he tried to get this girl’s number. They dragged him out of the club, the four of them squeezed into an Uber, tried to be as polite as possible to the driver, and here they are now:

Charles’ teeny tiny flat. On the floor circled around the coffee table in the sitting room. Lando took the couch because—of course he did.

“So?” Lando demands, frowning. His cheeks are flushed, his curls a mess. “Why’d we leave? I thought the point was to get pissed, and I’m not even.”

George would disagree. But, well.

Charles huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “I saw someone that I did not want to talk to.”

Alex snorts. He flushes this lovely color of pink whenever he’s drunk, George has noticed. Quite lovely. Very lovely. “Who? An ex-girlfriend?”

Charles kicks lightly at Alex’s thigh. They’re deep into summer, hot, sticky. Alex is wearing these little shorts. Not so little, really, but right now, George can see the meat of his underthigh, muscle hidden.

“Ex-boyfriend,” Charles corrects.

Alex dyed his hair to this auburn shade of brown the other month. George likes it better, like this, if he’s being honest. Obviously, Alex looked amazing as a blond—Alex looks amazing no matter what, but he looks softer like this, not a blond bombshell, alien and out of reach, grabbing everyone’s attention. Instead, just George’s best friend.

“Which one?” Alex asks, propped up on his hands, flat to the ground behind him. His shin hairs tickle George’s. Under the table, George only now realizes, they’re touching.

“Jean,” Charles answers.

“Oh,” Alex says, brows furrowing. Overdramatic. Alex likes being dramatic like that. He looks a little goofy right now. Silly, maybe. “I never liked that guy.”

Charles sighs. “It has been a while, but our breakup was…” He turns to Alex. “How do you say it…”

“A shit show?” Alex supplies, grinning warmly. George feels so warm.

Charles laughs, shoulders coming up to his ears. “Yes, a shit show,” he repeats, the syllables odd and unfamiliar on his tongue, mouth curling emphatically. “He—”

He.

Charles keeps talking.

But George:

“Wait, wait, wait. Your what?”

Charles turns his head to George. Blinks. Slowly. Tilts his head to the side. Confused.

“My ex-boyfriend,” he repeats, like this isn’t earth-shattering information.

George gawks. Mouth open. Jaw unhinged. Eyes bug-wide. The full mile. He glances over at Alex, who looks just as confused as Charles, then Lando, who’s looking down at his phone, disinterested.

Charles blinks again, seeming to understand George’s confusion. “Oh, you don’t…?”

“I don’t what?” George snaps, feeling like he’s just had the rug pulled out from under him. Feeling like the odd one out. For the first time in their little quartet, George feels like the outsider.

“I am gay, George,” Charles deadpans. “Did I never tell you this?”

“Uh,” George says, wincing at how his voice cracks, “no?”

“Oh,” Charles replies, blinking. His mouth parts into a small circle. He bats his eyelashes, demure, and George feels something ugly twist in his belly. “Well. Sorry, I think I forgot.”

George suddenly feels very sober.

“But you—your girlfriend—”

Charles shrugs. “She is a good friend. It is always good to have a public girlfriend.”

Well. This explains a lot.

“Lando,” George starts, head whipping toward him, “did you—?”

“Mmh. I didn’t like Jean either,” Lando replies, still not looking up from his phone.

George makes a noise. “How do you guys know this Jean?”

Alex snorts and rolls his eyes. “George, you know Jean. F2?”

Jean. Jean Jean Jean. George thinks and thinks and—

“Oh,” George says, Jean’s face materializing in his head. George never really talked to him; they ran in different circles and drove for different teams, but George vaguely remembers narrowly missing out on a win because Jean wouldn’t get out of the fucking way when George was trying to lap him. He lost the win by three seconds. To Lando. That’s about all he remembers of the guy. “Wow.”

Charles… dated him.

Suddenly self-conscious about how he’s coming off about this whole thing, George stumbles to clarify, “I mean, mate, obviously I don’t care. It’s not a problem. Like, of course I don’t have a problem, I’m just shocked, mate. I would’ve—”

“Oh, calm down, George,” Alex says, grinning beatifically. “Yes, yes. You’re an ally. You’re teammates with Lewis Hamilton. Love is love. We know. You don’t need to give us a little speech.”

“Sod off,” George mutters, kicking Alex under the table. “Why did no one tell me this?”

“Not my fault you have a stick up your arse when it comes to sex,” Alex jibes, kicking George back. “I think talking about gay sex would’ve given you a heart attack.”

George huffs, cheeks warming. Like, fine. George is self-aware enough to know that he gets a bit dodgy when it comes to sex. But that’s the way he thinks it should be, anyway. “Doesn’t have to be about gay sex, does it?”

“You should try it,” Alex says. “It’s fun. Quite different.”

Charles hums carefully, eyes big and curious, assessing. George feels like he’s being taken apart. “Yes, George. I think it would loosen you up,” Charles says, too sincerely.

From the couch, Lando snickers, chewing on his hoodie drawstring.

Charles frowns and glares at him. “What?”

Ah. Charles hadn’t even caught the double entendre.

Wait.

His head whips to Alex. “You have?” Had sex. With a man. George can’t get any of the words out.

“Oh, c’mon,” Alex says, easy and casual like George’s whole world isn’t falling apart. “You know I like blokes.”

Well, sure. George did know that. He knows everything about Alex. Alex is his best mate, after all. But Alex’s sexuality was an irrelevant, inconsequential little fact that George’d merely hold in the back of his mind. His best mate happened to be bisexual. That didn’t change anything.

“Yeah, I guess,” George admits, “but—Lily?”

“Again,” Alex says, “you know we have an open relationship.”

George laughs nervously. Yes, right. He’d forgotten about that.

He’d honestly—

He doesn’t know. He hadn’t actually thought Alex and Lily were acting on that.

“You’ve never thought about it?” Alex asks. “A little hanky-panky with the lads? Never?”

George chokes. “The lads? Plural?”

Alex waves his hand. “Hyperbole.”

Lando, hoodie drawstring still in his mouth, asks, “What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

“Hyperbowl,” Lando butchers. George isn’t sure how he made it past primary.

“Like,” Alex says, “when you tell your girls on Raya you have an eight inch dick. Hyperbole.”

The drawstring falls out of Lando’s mouth. He sits straight up, inflamed. “I do not tell them I have a—”

“Lando, you have an eight inch dick?” Charles asks, suddenly very interested in the conversation.

Alex snickers. “The point is that he doesn’t.”

Tomato-red, Lando bumbles, “Oh, bugger off. It’s not like you’d know.”

“Anways, George?”

George scratches the back of his head. Is it hot in here? Is it just him or the shitty insulation in Charles’ flat?

He thinks back to the original question and replies, “I cannot say I have thought about it.” He swallows. Because honestly, he hasn’t. He’s, like, twenty-five now. That’s far too old to be having sexuality crises anyway. Still, drunk, and a little too honest for his own good, he starts to ramble, “Like, I don’t think I. I mean. Haha. I am very happy with, er. Women.”

Not like George has been getting much lately, not after his less than ideal breakup with Carmen at the start of the season. And he isn’t like Lando either: going on apps or picking up a girl at the club is, like, his worst fucking nightmare. Rock fucking bottom. He’d rather go celibate than go on Tinder.

“So, like. You know. Men don’t.” God, why is George still talking? “I have my own, er. Likes. And I don’t think that—”

“Oh,” Alex sighs, exasperated, “don’t be such a prude, Georgie. Here—”

Fireworks. Butterflies. Violins.

No, none of that, actually. Just Alex’s mouth. George wouldn’t trade it for the world.

It has been so long since George kissed someone. Since George was kissed by someone.

Alex has a hand cupping his cheek—so tender and gentle that George shivers beneath him. Yes, beneath him. George isn’t on his back, but it’s taking all of his core muscle strength to keep himself somewhat upright with Alex half on top of him and half in his lap, kissing him. Alex, Alexander, Alexander Albon is kissing him.

His tongue runs along the seam of George’s mouth, and with a gasp, George parts his lips, mouth going slack, finally realizing that Alex is kissing him, and he isn’t kissing him back. He’s a bloody idiot, that’s what he is, he thinks, as he surges forward to return the kiss, and—

Ah.

Alex sitting back on his heels, eyes a little wild, mouth pink and slick.

Anticlamactic.

George makes a soft noise, feeling like he’s just been taken apart, disemboweled, ribs in all the wrong places.

It feels like—

Feels like the comedown after Brazil 2022. He got a taste of a win, and now he’ll spend the rest of his life knowing what it feels like to stand on the top of the podium.

Now, he’ll spend the rest of his life knowing what Alex’s lips feel like against his.

It’s not like it was a fantastic kiss, or anything. George has had better. Loads better. This wasn’t even a proper kiss. George hadn’t even managed to kiss back. And it wasn’t like it meant anything either.

It was just Alex.

“Hey,” Charles whines, sounding like he’s pouting. Only sounding like it—George couldn’t possibly know what Charles looks like right now. He isn’t looking anywhere but at Alex. It just isn’t possible for him to take his eyes away. “Why do you kiss George and not me?”

Lazily, Alex throws his head to the side, looking at Charles. In the meantime George stares at the lovely column of his throat. “Been there done that, Charlie.”

George sucks in a breath.

“Don’t look so jealous,” Alex says, chuckling, his gaze returning to George. George doesn’t even want to imagine what he looks like right now—what Alex sees. “It’s not like you were up for grabs.”

“Ah,” George says, shuddering. It’s just—the way Alex’s voice sounds, the way he’s looking at him—

“Oi, oi,” Lando sounds, swinging upright so that his shoes are finally off the couch and on the ground. “This is getting a bit too gay for me. I’m calling a Lyft.”

“Lando,” Alex laughs, “you are quite literally dating a man.”

Lando, ever prey-like and anxious when it doesn’t matter, blushes and says, “Oh, fuck off. Me and Max aren’t dating. We’re just, um…”

He reminds George of a snapping turtle, in a way: hard-shelled, prickly, and goes through puberty late.

At Lando’s words, Charles’ head rises, which is rather striking, George reckons, since he hasn’t said a word this whole conversation. His face scrunches up, brows furrowed, almost irritated. He’s frowning when he asks, “Lando, you are with Max?”

“Fewtrell,” Alex clarifies.

“Oh,” Charles exhales, tension releasing from his shoulders as Lando blushes an even brighter red and blubbers incoherently.

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Lando says, flustered and bitchy. “I’m not with Max. Fewtrell or Charles’ Max—”

“Um,” Charles says, looking a little furious, “he’s not my—”

“Whatever,” Lando says, waving his hand vaguely. “Anyway, I’m leaving—mmph!”

Oh, alright then, George thinks, watching as Charles yanks on Lando’s wrist and pulls him down to the floor for a kiss.

Lando yanks himself away, and in the process, bangs his knee on the underside of the coffee table and hisses as he falls onto his back. Clearly still very drunk. Charles is laughing at him. So is Alex, honking and boisterous. George feels too shocked to find the humor in this.

Scrubbing his mouth with the back of his sleeve, he stammers, “What was that for?”

Charles shrugs. His face is pink and filled with glee, eyes sparkling. “Alex wouldn’t kiss me.”

“That’s the only reason why?” Lando asks, lifting a brow.

Charles giggles. “I like you, Lando,” Charles says, like it’s nothing, like Charles Leclerc liking someone means nothing. George wonders what that is like, to be able to say something like that without shame or anxiety. To be able to throw things into the air like that. I like you with the self-assurance to know that it will be well-received. That your attraction will be reciprocated.

“I think you are very cute,” Charles finishes, swaying a little.

“Not cute,” Lando huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, which strangely, George reckons, makes him look cuter. “I’m sexy.”

“Yes,” Charles says, giggling harder, his shoulders rising to his ears, “you are very sexy, Lando.”

“You’ll say anything to anyone,” Alex snorts, watching them with curiosity.

Charles keeps his eyes on Lando when he says, “When I want them in bed, yes.” Lando’s throat bobs, a mouse caught in the trap. Yes, George thinks, that’s what it’s like being looked at by Charles: caught in a trap. “Is that something you would like, Lando?”

“Uh,” Lando squeaks.

“Or will your Max get mad at me?”

Instantly, Lando shakes his head, a bit like a dog coming out of the bath. Doesn’t even make a snippy comment about your Max.

Charles kisses him again.

It isn’t anything like the last kiss, abrupt and awkward. It isn’t anything like when Alex kissed George either. This one is—

George has to look away, face hot.

“Oh, don’t do that,” he hears from the side.

“What?” George asks, his insides feeling gooey.

“Look,” Alex says, then his hand is on George’s burning cheek, turning it to face Charles and Lando. Lando, who is sitting in Charles’ lap. Charles, who has his hands firmly on Lando’s waist.

George swallows. The room is far too small and the only sounds are the slick-wet sounds of kissing, and heavy breathing. Now that George is looking, he can’t look away no matter how much he wants to. Like a car crash, he thinks absently. Sweat drips down the side of his neck, where Alex’s hand is placed now. George’s whole body feels on fire.

Alex isn’t saying anything. They only—watch. Watch as Charles slides a careful hand under the seam of Lando’s shirt, snaking along his lower back. Lando squeaks and pulls back from the kiss, panting against Charles’ mouth. Desperate, George thinks. They both look a little desperate right now.

More than a little. Faces flushed, clothes wrinkled, making out on the fucking floor in front of a fucking audience.

“It’s kind of late,” Lando mutters, so quietly that George can barely hear him over the sound of his own breathing.

“Yes, ah,” Charles says. Lando crawls off of him, uncoordinated; whatever spell the both of them were under seems to be broken. Charles turns toward George and Alex, his lips swollen, looking thoroughly kissed. His shirt is riding up. Lower: a massive tent in his jeans. George forces his eyes to drift back up to Charles’ face, settling on his mouth. “Maybe everyone should go.” After a beat, he adds, “I am very drunk.”

Lando is avoiding eye contact, playing with his fingers, hands positioned conspicuously over his crotch, inhibitions remembered.

George swallows, his voice hoarse when he says, “We can tell.”

Alex collects Lando off the floor, and George and Charles follow them to the door, silently.

“I’ll get these two home safe,” Alex promises, clasping a hand on both George’s and Lando’s shoulder. Lando bats his hand away.

Leaning against the wall, Charles smirks and says, “You owe me a kiss, Alexander.”

Alex smiles back at Charles. George stiffens at the reminder that Charles has Alex wrapped around his fucking finger, even now. “I’ll pay you back with interest next time, Charlie.”

After that, they start to shuffle out the door, but then Lando, still inside the flat, says, “Charles.”

George and Alex turn around.

Head tilted, Charles asks, “What is it?”

And that’s all he’s able to get out before Lando is grabbing his face and kissing him. Hungrily. Charles makes a shocked noise as he’s backed up against the wall, melting.

It’s a chaste kiss, all things considered. After only a moment, Lando pulls away with a smug smile, and Charles looks—dazed. Kiss-stupid and slack-jawed. George wonders if that’s how he gets when he isn’t in control.

“We should,” Charles starts, throat bobbing as he stares at the three of them in the hall. He licks his lips, cheeks red like his car, and scans each of them with his eyes. “All of us. Again.”

All of us, George thinks. Not just Lando, not just Alex. All of them. All four of them.

“I mean. Only if you all want.”

Charles, George registers, is looking at George. That’s where his gaze has settled. And George realizes that, yes, he is the limiting factor here. Because apparently, a-fucking-pparently, Charles has a history with Alex, and George’s more than half sure that if Charles and Lando were only marginally less drunk than they are, they would have fucked tonight.

Alex and Lando are looking at him too.

What’s the harm if George says no?

No, no. Wrong question.

What’s the harm if George says yes?

He doesn’t want to be the odd one out. What he wants is—

He turns to look at Alex, looking at him with curious eyes. George’s gaze drifts and drifts—Alex’s pink mouth, the shape of it, remembering the feel of it against his own.

George made his decision a long time ago. Charles and Lando—they’re just the implications.

Shuddering, he turns back to Charles, and nods his head.

Monaco is small enough that practically everything is just a walk away. Lando’s flat is the closest one to Charles’; George and Alex drop him off. On the way, surprisingly, they don’t chat about what happened back at Charles’ place. Instead, they grill Lando about whatever’s going on between him and Fewtrell, only to get absolutely nothing.

George’s flat is the closest to Lando’s, so Alex walks him back. And they don’t talk at all, at least until they’re outside the front door and George is about to walk in.

“Hey, um,” Alex says, biting his lip. “Tonight was a lot.”

“Yeah,” George admits, finding no use in pretending otherwise.

“So,” Alex starts. “Are you, like, sure? About—getting all together again? I feel kinda bad that like—I dunno. It was kinda like, we were ganging up on you. If you feel pressured in any way, I couldn’t live with myself, so, uh—”

Alex rambles. He’s a rambler. George knows this about him. Alex is a horrible storyteller, always telling the punchline first, then filling in all the gaps. Even then, he always forgets important parts, tells it all non-linearly and it never makes sense to anyone but him.

The truth is, as much as Alex’s blithe, carefree nature obscures, beneath that persona, he does just as much overthinking that George does.

And George—

Perhaps he isn’t as sober as he thought he was, but he feels clear. For the first time tonight, he feels in control. Brave.

He does what he wanted to do earlier, back in Charles’ flat, when Alex pulled away and George surged forward.

He kisses Alex. Mid-sentence, mid-word, mid-apology.

It’s just a peck, really. George thinks that if he properly kissed Alex right now, he might do something absolutely stupid, like drop to his knees and try to blow Alex under the cameras of his building. Even if he’s never done that before, he thinks he’d do that for Alex.

If Alex asked. If Alex wanted. He’s too afraid to ask if that’s what Alex would want.

Alex is smiling at him—and it’s one of his soft smiles. George feels so dizzy and stupid. “Not so straight then, are you?”

Heart hammering, George remembers to be brave. “Probably not.”

Alex licks over his mouth. George wants.

“Alright then,” Alex says, pupils wide. “We’ll talk in the morning? All of us?”

Yes, George thinks. They will.

And, against all odds, they do.

#4fic #the fic is called “the anatomy of a joke”#i still don't love it but...#my writing #there's like 3k more in the doc but none of it is coherent

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sparrowsingsstories · 1 year

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Some Sentence Sunday

Or six sentence - if you are counting...which I'm not.

Tagging: @alder-berry @adventuresofmeghatron @twolargepepperoni-and-a-calzone and @sendhelporcaffeine and @boxonthenile

From the next chapter in Cry Mercy. Jake tends to be the voice of reason in this polycule. And it's no exception here:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I think you should let her do what she does best. I get your job is to keep her safe, but I’ve been hearing stories about her since I walked into Sanctuary. She single-handedly saved Preston Garvey, who to hear tell it, is the last Minuteman in the Commonwealth. He said she took on twenty raiders and a deathclaw all in an old beat-up suit of power armor and a minigun,” Jake said.

“It wasn’t twenty…was it?” Mercy narrowed her eyes as she seemed to count on her fingers. “One…two…oh no…yeah. Maybe that many? Maybe a few more? It was night time. Guns were flashing and that deathclaw…man…I couldn’t see anything out of that helmet.”

#some sentence sunday #six sentence sunday #Fallout 4 #Cry Mercy #Mercy Hamilton #Fallout 4fic

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eulaties · 3 years

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PERCY JACKSON FIC RECS ★ #4

fics that have an asterisk (*) in front of them are my personal favorites! also, all of the fics listed are completed unless otherwise stated.

this list was last updated on 12/30/22.

*in dreams: book 1 • gen, multi-chapter (31/31)

TAGS: demigods reading "the lightning thief”, the premise sounds generic but this is actually a really good fic, in-character interactions, set between the lost hero and the son of neptune, percabeth, jasper, fluff, angst, humor

NOTES: one of my holy grail pjo fics! i especially loved the way that the author characterized everyone and actually made the premise interesting. this trope may seem overused but this fic is definitely a must read :) also, i recommend that you read along with your book (the author didn’t put full quotes from the book out of respect for rick riordan).

*in dreams: book 2 • gen, multi-chapter (22/?)

NOTES: the sequel to the previous fic! this time, the demigods are reading “the sea of monsters”. the fic is currently a work in progress.

*where the heart is • percy/annabeth, one-shot

SUMMARY: “in which percy and annabeth are soulmates who've given up the search, but end up finding each other anyway.”

TAGS: soulmate au, fluff, humor, slight angst at beginning, modern au

*not by design • percy & paul blofis, one-shot

SUMMARY: “paul's journey from that guy dating sally to being percy's father.”

TAGS: paul blofis pov, father-son bonding, healing from trauma, family, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, paul blofis appreciation, ngl this fic made me cry

CW: percy has panic attacks and ptsd-like symptoms in this fic

*the things we could be • percy/annabeth, one-shot

SUMMARY: “the three times where annabeth is prematurely called mrs. jackson, and the one time where it's long overdue.”

TAGS: post-canon, fluff

*the holiday for giving thanks (and old friends) • gen, one-shot

SUMMARY: “the thanksgiving following the sea of monsters is one percy plans to spend with grover and his mum. that is, until a snowstorm blankets manhattan and a certain daughter of athena shows up on his doorstep, thalia grace at her side.”

TAGS: takes place directly after sea of monsters, friendships, fluff, developing relationship, thanksgiving

*cheeseburgers and fries • gen, one-shot

SUMMARY: “we'll see," thalia promised. "after this is over, you, annabeth and me: cheeseburgers and fries at that hotel on west fifty-sixth."

TAGS: percy’s pov, written exactly like riordan’s writing style, takes place directly after the last olympian, everyone catches up with thalia at a diner, friendship, newly-established relationship, thalia has no idea that percabeth are dating

*SERIES: in the canon universe • gen, multiple fics (12/?)

SUMMARY: all of @/unsureavenger’s percy jackson fics that take place in the canon universe, in chronological timeline order.

TAGS: all canon relationships, ignores trials of apollo, found family, friendships, many fics take place during canon but there are some that take place post-canon

NOTES: both “the holiday for giving thanks (and old friends)” & “cheeseburgers and fries” belong to this wonderful collection!! absolutely love this author’s writing style, so i highly, highly recommend checking out all their works here <3

not a date • percy/annabeth, one-shot

TAGS: percabeth from sally jackson’s pov, sally jackson being the best mom, fluff, dense percy, percabeth mutual pining we love to see it!

freaks and geeks • gen, multi-chapter (5/?)

SUMMARY: “demigods don't tend to be too popular at school.” basically, a series of one-shots of how the demigods are viewed at their schools.

TAGS: humor, mortal pov, angst

NOTES: this fic is unfinished but all of the chapters are meant to be read as one-shots! the first chapter is about percy, the second one is about silena, the third one is about jason, the fourth one is about luke, and the fifth one is about nico.

kids turned out fine • gen, multi-chapter (6/?)

SUMMARY: “while digging through the big house attic, piper, leo and jason find some tapes.”

TAGS: demigods reading the books but there’s a twist, again the premise may sound generic but the fic is actually good, some jasper and percabeth, takes place after the lost hero but before the son of neptune, fluff

NOTES: this fic is unfinished but i still recommend that you read it! :)

why do bad things happen on field trips • percy-centric, one-shot

SUMMARY: “percy's internet history during that fateful field trip with yancy.”

TAGS: humor, lowkey kinda sad, takes place at the beginning of the lightning thief, percy is baby, someone give him a hug

CW: percy goes on the internet for help, but the people on the internet are kind of...toxic lmao. so there is some mental health stigmatization in this fic but it is important to note that the author themself does not agree with those opinions!

when silence is comfortable • percy & jason, one-shot

SUMMARY: “it wasn't as if jason didn't like percy. on the contrary, he'd count the older demigod as a friend and an ally. it was just that percy seemed to be so much more than jason—so much better. jason couldn't help but feel as though he had been measured and found lacking compared to the other demigod. percy, on the other hand, liked jason well enough, but between recovering from tartarus, the war, school, and life in general, he didn't tend to think of the son of jupiter often."

TAGS: character study, road trips, bromance, how they went from friendly allies to actual friends

little scraps of wisdom • percy & paul blofis, one-shot

SUMMARY: “paul couldn't do much for percy, not really. he couldn't see through the mist, couldn't help him train, couldn't heal him…but he could offer him a home and a listening ear. he could remind him about school work, prod him to get out of bed, to eat, could take care of him when he was ill, and just be there for him. what percy needed now was to be clean, comfortable, and have someone look after him. and paul would happily be that person for the boy he loved like a son.”

TAGS: found family, comfort, healing

burial shrouds and beach therapy • percy & leo, one-shot

SUMMARY: “the hephaestus cabin is out of service and leo needs a place to stay. where better than one of the only cabins in camp that stays (almost) completely empty?”

TAGS: leo’s pov, post-tartarus, reluctant bros percy and leo, hurt/comfort, they honestly both need a hug, developing friendship

CW: percy has panic attacks and ptsd in this fic

#pjo #percy jackson #annabeth chase #heroes of olympus #percabeth #pjo fic recs #percy jackson fic recs #percabeth fic recs #eulaties fic recs

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specialagentlokitty · 5 years

Text

Abby x reader - Fallen

I understand if you don't want to write about this topic or simply that you already have a full plate.But do you think you could write something with Abby X fem Reader. Where the reader used to have a bad cigarette problem but then after a bad case she secretly starts smoking again trying to hide it from her gf(Abby) but eventually gets cought. You can end it however you want. I'm just a hoe for sadangst PS I Absalutely live for your writing!I don't know how you can write 3-4fics a day!❤💛💚💙💜 - Anon ❤️❤️

The cold air nipped at your already freezing hands, they couldn’t stop shaking. Tears burned the back of your eyes but you didn’t let them fall. Sitting on the back of the bench, feet planted on the seat, you brought your shaking hands to your lips and sparked the lighter. The flames jumped you, slightly warming your hands but it was soon put out. Drawing a breath and letting it out you smiled slightly.

“Back so soon my old friend?” You mused quietly.

The slight glow from the lit cigarette brightened then dimmed like it was laughing at you. Mocking you for coming back. This had been your third pack in a day, wasn’t it funny how you try so hard to stop but it’s so easy to start?

With a heavy sight you brought the thing back to your lips and drew on it again. A few people walked past and they didn’t look at you once, probably not wanting to get involved.

Oh how you wanted someone to ask what was wrong, but you knew you wouldn’t speak to anyone.

A heavy weight fell in your chest, she’s going to hate you now. She had every reason to. Would she understand?

Drawing another breath from the cigarette, you felt better with the toxic smoke in your lungs. Watching as it mix with the night sky when you let it go.

“(Y/N)?”

Turning your head downwards you didn’t bother putting out the cigarette she could probably see it. She stood right in front of you, plucking the cigarette from your hands and stomping it out. You just pulled another from your pocket but she took that one as well. Her hand reached into your pocket and pulled out the packs in there, full and empty.

“Oh my god how many did you smoke?”

Shrugging you made a feeble attempt to get them back but Abby walked over the the bin and dropped them in.

“I want those...” you mumbled.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine...”

She took your face between her hands and tilted it up, that’s when you spotted she wasn’t alone. The whole team was there. Even Ducky, Palmer and Vance had come, each face etched with worry.

“Look at me.”

Slowly dragging your eyes to hers, she didn’t look angry. She looked hurt and upset.

“What happened? You were doing so well, you hadn’t touched a cigarette in months now you’ve gone through nearly three packs in a day.”

“Go...”

“No I’m not leaving! You’ve been avoiding us all day, your my girlfriend and I love you but I’m also worried for you.” Her voice sounded chocked.

“It’s.. it’s bad Abby.. it’s bad...”

Abby knew what this meant. She pulled you into her chest, you let a few tears out. Arms wrapping around her midsection as you held her close, breathing in her familiar and calming scent.

“Tell me about it.” She whispered.

“He look so much.. he looked.. my brother.. Abby he looked so much like my brother.. but he’s.. he’s dead.. he’s dead Abby and our victim looked so much like him.. i didn’t want to remember... wanted to forget what happened.. it plays in my head every night.. it haunts me... it won’t stop!”

Tears streamed down your face as you gave her the broken explanation. Abby didn’t understand it fully but she understood it enough from what you had told her. Her lips pressed to your head as she held you close, that’s when she felt it. Her heart broke you sounded so small.

“Your freezing!”

Shaking your head you pulled her closer, Abby didn’t know what to do. Casting a look back over her shoulder, Gibbs walked over and dropped his coat over your frame. Sawdust and bourbon took over your sense. You knew Abby was still there.

“Take me home Abby... I want to go home...”

Slowly standing up, you still clung heavily to her, with the deep fear that if you let go she’d be gone.

“Come on then, we’ll go home.”

She wrapped Gibbs’ coat around you more, wrapping one around your shoulder while the other held her coat closer to her. Tears stung Abby’s eyes, never had she seen someone so strong so broken, never had she seen her own girlfriend so small and fragile. It hurt her, it hurt her so much, but she had to be there for you, because you were always there for her

#ncis #ncis fic #ncis fanfiction #ncis imagine #abby sciuto x reader #abby sciuto #ducky mallard #gibbs #tim mcgee #tony dinozzo #jimmy palmer #leon vance

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ficrecsforklaine · 5 years

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do you know any summer camp aus? either as campers or councelors?

sure! here you go!

Opening Yourself Up To Cheer by Januarium [AO3] (1,814words rated G)

Kurt is excited when he first meets Blaine at Cheer Camp, but not for long.

Traffic Lights by singingquietly (wintercrystal) [AO3](4,232words rated G)

Since they had so much fun last year, best friends Kurt and Blaine decide to join their university’s Freshman Adventure Camp again; but this time as camp seniors. AU!Klaine

Crushing on a C.I.T. by fhartz91 [AO3](3,582words rated Teen&Up)

When Blaine is taken to the nurse’s office after accidentally cutting his thumb and forefinger, he finds out that Kurt Hummel, McKinley High School’s head cheerleader, is a C.I.T. (counselor-in-training) volunteering there. Blaine is too terrified to tell Kurt that he likes him outright, so he comes up with a plan to see him every day in the hopes of getting under his skin.

AU where Blaine (plus some of the other Warblers) and Kurt attend McKinley. Even though Blaine has seen Kurt before, they don’t meet officially until they go to the same summer camp their junior year. Warning for mentions of minor injuries including a cut with some blood, a sprained ankle, a black eye, and poison ivy. Inspired slightly by awful 80s movies of the Meatballs oofa.

Slightly Misguided Attempt by Hadelli[AO3](1,584words rated G)

When Kurt’s mom dies, Burt sends Kurt to summer camp in the hopes of breaking him out of his shell. They were both surprised to see how well it worked.

Or: How Kurt and Blaine could have met if Kurt hadn’t spend his childhood having tea parties.

Lightning by Dandalion [AO3](987words rated Teen&Up)

Camp counselor Blaine didn’t expect to find love at camp, but sometimes life surprises people.

Untitled by dahlstrom & icedwhitemocha [AO3](11,542words rated Teen&Up)

Summer camp counselors AU!

Language Barrier by BunniesAndBooks[AO3](4,218words rated Teen&Up)

The first time Kurt met Blaine was during the first piano lesson of summer camp, and they are quickly enamored by one another. The problem? They don’t share a joint language, making actually speaking to each other difficult.

The Summer I Didn’t Eat by whyyouleavemewantingmore & blackbirdklaine [S&C] (29,484words rated M) [PDF]

Kurt Hummel always strove for perfection in everything he did from singing to how he looked. After developing an eating disorder he sets out on a secret agenda to attend a weight loss camp over summer break. He recieves help, from a closeted trainer and counselor by the name of Blaine Anderson, in more ways then one. He quickily falls for the boy, but will soon learn what it’s like to have your heart broken. When Blaine has the courage to admitt his feelings for Kurt nearly a year later will it be too late to mend the broken boy? Triggers for a eating disorder and self harm.

Camp Cardigan by tonks42 [AO3](4fics 76,858words total rated Teen&Up)

AU Klaine. During the summer between his junior and senior years, Kurt returns to camp as a Junior Counselor. His plans for having his best summer ever change when Kurt becomes a friend and mentor to a hurting new guy, Blaine.

Interruptions by whatstheproblembaby [AO3](1,217words rated Teen&Up)

Kurt and Blaine are counselors at arts camp for the summer and have to keep all the teens from making out. This eventually takes its toll.

A Rose for You by lilyvandersteen[AO3](4,911words rated G)

Rachel and Kurt go to theatre camp together. Kurt ends up working backstage, but still manages to catch the eye of an admirer…

Nature Boy by orphan_account [AO3](4,128words rated G)

To escape from the troubles of bullying at school, Kurt heads to summer camp. It’s not what he was expecting.

Fortune Favours The Brave by pureklaination [AO3](30,598words rated Teen&Up)

Blaine Anderson has been at Dalton his whole life. Some would say he’s privileged, but most would describe him as honourable to a fault. When a misunderstanding sees him kicked out of home and Dalton, he has to seek his cousin’s help to rebuild his life. But Mike has plans and a life of his own. Enrolling at McKinley was inevitable for Blaine, but exams, parties, summer camp, and someone falling in love with him weren’t on the agenda. Surely if he can get through this, he can get through anything. Courage

Camp Arborwood by PickingViolets [S&C](18,409words rated M) [PDF]

Kurt is seriously lacking when it comes to extracurriculars for his college applications. Camp counselor is going to look great. Now, if he can just survive the summer. A fun-loving, curly-haired co-worker will make the summer more than survivable though. It might just be downright amazing!

Brix Brax by 7895764757[FFN] (30,566words rated T)

Blaine has been going to camp Fire Light since he could walk. It’s his home away from home, but no one there knows he’s gay. He didn’t keep it a secret, but no one had asked and so no one knew. At camp he didn’t have to be the gay kid. He was just a kid. Now that he’s staff, will a new Waterfront director topple this carefully crafted logic? Klaine camp counselor AU

Camp Glee by MoonShoesWarbler[FFN] (13,987words rated T)

12 year old Kurt meets 12 year old Blaine at camp, along with a few other faces he’ll see again when he reaches high school. Got the idea from a pic of Darren at 12 on tumblr. Submit ideas for what you’d like to see happen and I’ll put them in the story.

The Klaine Trap by GleekOutKlaineStarkid1 [S&C] (13,100words rated G) [PDF]

Kurt and Blaine never met at Dalton.They did however meet at a show choir camp in 2010 when their glee clubs Tied at Sectionals…with Regionals coming upBoth schools are pumped…Kurt and Blaine also have an eye for each other…But what happens when an annoying atrocious looking rival from Vocal Adrenaline named Sebastian gets in the way?

Camp Reed by NargleCatcher [FFN] (1,209words rated T)

Kurt never thought he’d be going to a summer camp, but who’s the boy sitting in front of him on the bus there? Cute and classic. Technically, AU, since it doesn’t go along with the show. Rated T for the ending. One shot. Read and review.

Camp Glee by onceawarbleralwaysawarbler [FFN] (24,500words rated M)

Kurt & Finn attend a summer camp, & meet some interesting people. Along the way, Kurt falls in love, falls out of it, becomes confused, & decides that maybe he likes camping a lot more than before. Very Klaine centric. Rated M for some fun in tents.

Be My Best Friend by Keitorin Asthore [FFN] (9,906words rated K+)

Eight year old Blaine was really hoping he would find a best friend when he went to football day camp. He just didn’t expect it would be the shy little boy hiding in the equipment shed. Baby!Klaine. Oneshot. COMPLETE.

Summer Nights by missbeizy [AO3] (2,829words rated Mature)

Prompt: anon requested: “kurt and blaine meet at a summer camp. they could be counselors”

Victory by RumChocolateSouffle[FFN] (1,460words rated K)

Some semi-rivalish Klaine. Kurt and Blaine are camp counselors and are leading opposite teams of children in a game of capture the flag. Includes cocky!Blaine.

this list was a lot longer than I thought it’d be…

#klaine fanfiction #summer camp #Anonymous #reply post #download link included

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n4mina · 2 years

Text

tags so you don’t get too lost in my world. . . !

#n4mina: all original works

#sina talks: thoughts, shits n giggles, random words that leave my mouth & hope makes sense

#[member]: to easily navigate through members!

#4RB: any reblogs excluding fics

#4FIC: any reblogs that include any type of fanfiction work

#sina’s mail: any answered asks — feel free to send in anything

#navi #tags

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mocacheezy · 3 years

Text

Wanted to make a seperate post for this, because this stuff will go under a readmore. (damn it got long)

Added my two cents on this post, but here is what I do when I do have the energy leave comments on fics (and some extra thoughts on my kudoses):

Comments

There is such delight when I find a fic that I have to write my thoughts down while reading, because I love to scream my joy @ the author in the comment once I am done with the chapter/fic itself.

And hopefully by the time I reach the end of the chapter I can calm down enough to actually write something coherent aside from screaming and keysmashing.

Some fics get me that excited!

Some fics I had to put down while reading, so I could pace around the room, because the possibilities for where the situation could go are ENDLESS!

Some fics I've put down and picked up MONTHS later, because a chapter was just so good and made me feel SO MUCH, I was unable to read further!

There are fics I forgot about and returned to years later and was DELIGHTED to see them finished or still going (there was this one back on fanfiction.net that I adored with all my heart, and I plan on checking out what happened to it. The author went on a break around the time another fandom took my attention, but the fic was so good I still remember it from time to time. It made my life more than just bearable, it made me laugh to tears at some points. )

When a fic gets me that excited, I noticed I tend to either comment short excited comments before nyooming to the next chapter, or read all of it over a course of a couple of days, gather my thoughts and leave an almost essay long comment, because the whole fic was just so good and I want to say it all in one place!

There were a couple of fics that I actually WANTED to write essays on, because I appreciate the authors writting style so so so much! For some I still do, because holy hell, the writing and characterization is great, while ALSO gives us things canon/source material didn't explore. But, if I do that, I wanna do it good because KUDOS TO THE WRITERS!

There are also fics that have me grinning and commenting on what's happening outloud, but there isn't really that many questions popping up for me.

It's the delighted gasp and a "Bitch, you said WHAT? 8D".

It's the "Ohohohooooo this is going to h u r t".

It's the grimace or a snort of "You fucking bastard, I knew he was planning something."

With fics like that, I can sit still or do something that isn't too demanding attention wise.

It's relaxing. It's nice, it let's my usually very active and overwhelmed brain rest, WHILE ALSO giving me serotonin and the excitement/feels, but on a smaller scale.

With fics like this (especially one shots), I tend to leave shorter comments, because if I want to comment, but don' t have much to say, I'll still comment and tell what the fic made me feel.

"I liked/loved/really enjoyed this fic, it had me experience x"

Because I do like it! And so far almost every fic I read gets atleast one kudos because this stuff is so good and the authors are amazing.

I just don't have much to say at that moment. Or what I want to comment is missing something and feels too flat to me.

If I know I'll want to reread a fic, I usually bookmark it and write down some highlights/what I liked about it/make a comment of its own in the bookmark! Because looking at older bookmarks/bookmarks from a fandom you are no longer involved with can bring back quite the laughter... AND get you back into the fandom even!

Reading fics is supposed to be a thing you enjoy. If you are starting to dread it because you feel obligated to say something, hey.

Take a step back for a while. This kind of fear happened to me at some point when I was younger, especially when I started interacting with active content creators. They appreciate comments and those comments help so much when an obstacle presents itself and it seems like abandoning a story will be it. Comments and encouragment bring back the fire and joy of writing.

There is a comment I have yet to reply to, that's been sitting in my Ao3 inbox for 160 days (ALMOST 6 MONTHS, MOCA, GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER AND REPLY ALREADY!).

It's from an author who really wasn't feeling motivated and the comment brought them such joy and excitement!

Why is it taking me so long to reply?

I never expect/wait for a reply from authors. ESPECIALLY not if it's a fic that's older (there are some amazing fics that were posted in 2013!!! Who knows if the author is still active in the fandom!*), or if it's an ongoing one that gets alot of comments. In the second case, it's because the author is already writing the fic, editing said fic and uploading it, could also be working on a bunch of different fics (because writting inspiration strikes at the weirdest of moments and as someone who has around 4fic ideas happening simultaniously, people who ACTUALLY WRITE THEM? Kudos. You are amazing.), not to mention most fic authors do this in their free time. So there's also their jobs, social circle outside the internet, on the internet and the amount of energy they have for social interaction with strangers online. Who am I to expect a reply to that behemot of a comment I left on their fic? If it made them happy, great! If it made them go "woah, that's alot of words" *shrugs*, eh. I am a rambler, it's what I do, if they like it they like it, if they don't they don't. Not much i can do about that, though I did leave a note on my ao3 profile that they can contact me if long comments/ramblings annoy them, so I can stay off their comment section and scream about my love for their works somewhere else. Noone has asked me to stop as of yet, but I like to offer just in case.

Most of my comments are actually posted as if I was at cafe or a restaurant, and was offered the Book of Complaints, Suggestions and Compliments/Thanks.

Complaints? I don't have complaints to leave, because it's my decision on what content I consume, and if I don't like it, I can always search for something else.

And if I didn't read the tags? Well, that's on me. That's like ordering a new dish when you have a food allergy, not reading the provided and highlighted allergen notes and warning, and then screaming at the staff when your food arrives. It's not THEIR job to know what kind of allergies their customers have. It's the customers.

Suggestions? Is the author asking for those? If not, no suggestions from me! If they do ask, and I don't have an answer I usually take some time to see if I have anything to offer.

Compliments/Thanks. That is the thing I love and what I click the comment box for. If a fic made me FEEL something, I will let the author know.

Do you know how amazing it is to read a fic and sit staring off into space after you finish it because "woah... that. That made me feel so much at once that I can't even name it." ?

When you read a crackfic, and keep snickering and chuckling, before you finally burst out in laughter or wheezing or snorting with tears in the corners of your eyes because "OH THIS GOLD, I haven't laughed like this in a while!" ?

When you read angst that tugs at your heartstrings and causes actual tears to run down your face and feel the anguish the characters feel?

When you read angst, but the story has a happy ending? Any you get to see the characters claw their way towards it, and actually reach it?

When you read hurt/comfort and there is that gentle care and love and safety that makes your heart melt?

When you read a fic that feels like sitting by a window with a cup of warm coffee while relaxing music plays? (this last one is becoming my favourite of them all and is actually the one I struggle to comment on the most.)

There is such a variety of works out there! So many talented and amazing writers, with their AUs and a billion different ways of writing!

3. I am a very forgetful person, who has to check her inbox more often. Plain and simple. Nothing more to it.

4. Some of these authors write back such lovely comments that make me smile everytime I open my inbox. I think I might make a scrapbook of some sort, to keep track of them, because getting the feedback of "HEY YOUR COMMENT MADE ME HAPPY/EXCITED!" or "I really appreciated this comment, thank you." makes me smile. ^u^

Seriously fic authors are amazing, and this is why "Kudos to them." has become a thing I say irl as well, and in any conversation where someone creating a thing is brought up. I may not know or have a strong opinion on the stuff someone enjoys creating, or have nothing to really say, so "Woah, Kudos to them." is my way of saying "I admire their work (but don't have anything else to say about it)."

Learning it means Glory? Hell yes, those works are worthy of praise,and the authors really are glorious.

So here's where that lovely button comes in.

Kudos

I use the kudos button both when I have a comment to write and when I don't. I spam that button when I like something so much words fail me, and I click it when a fic reads like I have just finished a cup of coffee.

If I use the cafe/restaurant thing I talked about before as an example, leaving a kudos, to me, is like giving a smile or replying to the waiter with "It was great." when they asked if you enjoyed it.

I enjoyed it, but I don't have anything else to say.

Maybe it was just an interesting read, even if not to my usual tastes. It might get a kudos.

And if I read something that I thought I would like but it turned out I didn't like it or I felt meh abput it?

Well, *shrugs* well.

I don't have anything nice to say, and I probably won't read stuff from that author. There are others who will and others who will leave a kudos.

I don't think much about it because I read fics for fun.

I ramble about them because I am having fun and finally know I can share my experience with others.

You guys have probably seen the "Holy shit two cakes!" comic, which was originally about how artists/writers feel bad when creating something with a concept that many other more skilled creators used.

I remember that comic at some point also being used to explain that "It really sucks when you bake a cake, but noone wants to eat it."

I can't speak as a writer, because I don't post the fics I daydream about (yet! I don't post them yet!), but here's a little thing my daydreamer self likes to think.

I baked my cake, and I can eat it too, but I hope the cafe I frequent has something similar too.

Translated?

I wanted to read a fic like this, I made a fic with the idea I wanted, I enjoyed the process and the result, but I sure do hope someone else also makes a similar fic in the future.

I do however mostly daydream my fic ideas. So again. These are just my thoughts on the whole thing that is Comment > Kudos/Like > Reading > Not Reading

#moca talks #fanfiction #Comments #Kudos #kudos to the writers #And kudos to folks who leave comments #And a kudos for the kudos givers #Long post #Like... One of the longest ones I've written I think

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