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guksfairy · 20 hours

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I’m Tired Anyways

Jungkook x bubbly OC

playlist • original scene •

WC: 2K

In which Jungkook shows you he genuinely cares about you in his own way

💗: HEAVENLY inspired by that one scene in ‘When I Fly Towards You’! If you want to see the original scene I based this fic off of I linked it above and it starts at minute 19:32 💗 !

note: I wrote this fairly quick so please excuse mistakes 🥲

You wish you could stare at her with a genuine smile but how could you? There she was standing with your Jungkook! Maybe not yours yet but eventually your Jungkook!

You watched as they stood in front of a stand looking at all the souvenirs displayed on the table along with a variety of other objects.

“Are you aware you’re pouting like a kid who was just told no?” You stare back at your best friend of 4 years and let out a breathy sigh.

“Sua, do you think they’re still close?”

“Considering this is their first time seeing one another after 2 years…no,” you begin to smile, “but who says people can’t reconnect,” and it goes away in an instant.

“You’re not helping,” you say fully turning and staring at the variety of sunglasses on the rack in front of you.

“You know I’m only joking! You can’t seriously be this upset because Jungkook and a girl from his old school are catching up,”

You walked out of your English exam tired as fuck. You looked at the other students walking out along with you and every single one looked tired. Your exam group had to get up at 6 AM for your test which would be from 7 AM to 10 AM.

Not all 3 hours were used but if you wanted a good mark than you better use them. As you walked down the ramp to the exit you catch a glimpse of Jungkook walking back and forth clearly waiting for you at the exit.

“Jungkook!” you run to him with a completely different emotion from the prior. His group was slightly luckier with their test only being 2 and a half hours long.

“I thought your test ended a half hour ago. Were you waiting for me?” you liked to tease him. He wasn’t big on emotions but even a smile would do for you.

“Oh- uh I just came out now,” you can tell he was bluffing but let it go realizing your other three friends weren’t with him.

“Have Sua, Jimin, and Minhyuk not finished their tests?” you question as you watch his eyes trail to the left and stared at the three crouching on the floor.

“She’s so in love with him she doesn’t even notice us,” you hear Minhyuk say as you smile shyly at Jungkook as he lets a barely audible laugh.

The three walk towards you and Jungkook.

“Well I need some food in my system. Should we look up places to eat here?” Jimin’s already taking his phone out before you can all agree but all your attention is quickly taken when you hear a voice call Jungkook’s name.

“Jungkook! Is that you? I thought I recognized you!” it was an older man walking towards your group with a girl who looked your age.

“Mr. Fukutomi,” Jungkook turns and greets the elder with a handshake. He wore a green badge signifying he was a teacher.

“It’s been a while since I last saw you! You remember my granddaughter, Tsuki,” she waves at your entire group and you try your best to keep a smile.

He remembers her?

“I’m assuming you came here to take your annual science exam? How was it?”

“I did and it was fine. I enjoy science a lot,” he speaks as the four of you just watch and listen to their interaction.

“Well it’s almost lunch time. Have you all eaten?” he asks and stares at us all.

“We were just on our way sir,” you hear Minhyuk behind you. You could hear the desperation in his voice for this conversation to end so he could finally grab some food.

“You should let Tsuki show you around town and then have lunch together afterward. She practically grew up here,” the elder suggests making a hand movement towards Tsuki who just smiled.

Again. You hear Minhyuk let a quiet sigh at the thought of doing something before eating.

“Oh we wouldn’t want to bothe-” ”Nonsense! I’m sure you two would like to catch up too!” he cuts off Jungkook before wishing you all a great day and walking away.

You all wave goodbye to him and watch Tsuki walk closer to you guys.

“I know this great sight seeing area but we need to walk a bit far for it,” she says.

“You think we can grab some snacks or something first,” Jimin asks.

“Of course. We can stop at the souvenir shop around the corner. They sell tons of snacks from around the world,” she explains.

“Lead the way,” Jimin replies as she lets out a small laugh and you all begin walking.

You walk shoulder to shoulder with Jungkook before realizing Tsuki was on his other side and they were laughing and conversating so you walk slower to be with Sua who was behind you.

“What’s wrong?” she notices your head slightly down as you wrap your arm around hers. You don’t even realize when Jungkook took notice of you leaving his side as he stared back at you.

You looked upset which worried him. Maybe he’ll ask you when you guys arrive at the shop.

“Tsuki’s pretty,”

“So are you, Y/N,” she replies.

“Tsuki seems smart,”

“So are you, Y/N. Stop sulking before I tell Tsuki to leave. Besides you know how head over heels Jungkook is for you,”

No. You don’t. Often times your friend group would tease you and Jungkook and would always say how in love he was with you but you never fully saw it.

Sure he’s defended you multiple times, has come to your rescue on multiple occasions, and always walks you home but maybe that was just him being nice.

He’d have to do much more for you to feel fully confident in his feelings towards you.

“Stop it. You would never,” you say leaning your head on her shoulder following the pace of the group.

“Tsuki!” you hear her call out and immediately panic resulting in you giving her a minor hit on her arm before staring at Tsuki and smiling at her. You end up making eye contact with Jungkook who also turned around.

“Nothing! Are we almost there?” Sua ask.

“We’re here!” she says pointing the bright shop filled with a variety of snacks.

Jimin and Minhyuk run inside grabbing snacks they know your group would enjoy leaving you, Sua, Jungkook, and Tsuki outside to stare at all the keychains, bracelets, and postcards.

Tsuki drags Jungkook over to a table opposite of you and Sua before she begins picking out random items.

“Got them! Let’s go” Jimin and Minhyuk walk out of the store with 1 bag filled to the brim of snacks for the 6 of you.

Tsuki begins to lead the group once more to a different destination in mind.

This time she led you to a steep hill. Not too steep but steep enough. You felt your legs giving out just from looking at it.

“I told you guys it was a bit of a walk but I promise the sights on the way up are so worth it!” she says with desperation in her voice hoping you all wouldn’t mind.

When you got ready this morning you weren’t exactly dressing for a hike.

Tsuki smiles and begins walking up and was followed by Jungkook and wherever Jungkook goes so do Jimin and Minhyuk.

“Let’s go,” Sua says walking a slower pace then the rest yet you still felt the burn after some time.

“Up ahead is a famous landmark if you guys want to go even further. You can see further out and it’s pretty during the day. Besides it’s a weekday and not many people are around if you guys are up for it,” Tsuki told the group.

You had all been walking for about 20 minutes and had finally reached an area with a bench and a sight.

“Is it the same one that people post all over their Instagram accounts to seem adventurous? Because if so, I am in,” Jimin’s eyes light up

“Yeah I mean we’re already here,” Minhyuk says with energy received after eating a bar of chocolate.

The group begins to move again before you interrupt.

“You guys go ahead! I’m going to rest here and wait for you guys. My shoes are making it slightly uncomfortable to walk,” you voice gets audibly quieter as you speak.

You look at Jungkook whose eyes don’t leave yours for a second watching you lift your leg off the ground just slightly to ease the tension in it.

“I’ll stay with you if you want,” Sua says staring at you.

“It’s fine, really, go enjoy the view,” you say looking back at the group and realizing his eyes haven’t left your face at all.

His expression read worried before his attention was pulled by Tsuki, “Jungkook, let’s go?” she begins walking away and Jungkook stares at you one last time before following suit.

You watch as the rest of the group continues walking uphill and sit on the bench staring out.

It had been about half an hour since the group left and you were growing bored.

As you take out your phone a hand reaches in front of your face holding a carton of strawberry milk with a straw poked in.

Jungkook always does it for you.

“You didn’t go with the rest of the group?” you say smiling up at him and take the strawberry milk from his hands.

“I saw a stand of drinks when we were walking and you said strawberry milk always makes you feel better,” you listen to him as you take a sip of the sweet drink and watch him sit next to you.

“Besides, I’m tired anyways,” he looks back up to where the group originally left from before speaking once more, “…they’re probably going to take a while. Do you want to explore?” he says looking at you.

“Explore?” you stare at him as he smiles at you and begins grabbing your bag and placing it over his shoulder and allowing you to get up before walking a bit further down.

“Tsuki failed to mention there’s a cable car that takes you directly to the land mark,” Jungkook says leading you to the cable car waiting for passengers.

“Oh my god if Sua found out about this she would be so annoyed! She was also starting to get irritated with all the walking,” you say taking another sip of your drink.

He’s staring at you like you hung the stars and leads you to the cable car before the two of you sit and watch the trees pass by as the machine gets higher and higher.

“You’re not afraid?” he says looking over at you and you shake your head.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of when I’m with you,” you say with the biggest smile and he stares away before you can watch his face flush

From there you completely forgot about your friends, Tsuki, and time.

Jungkook led you to other areas he thought you’d like. He bought you both ice cream and even bought you a small plushie to put on your bag because you said it reminded you of him. Eventually you two ended up on the beach collecting shells and staring at the sunset. Afterwards you decided to enjoy the view from the pier.

You watched him staring out at the birds flying above the waters and promised yourself you wouldn’t give up. Even if it took you years for him to reciprocate his feelings you would not be giving up.

When he turned to stare at you it caused you to immediately fluster and face the sea pretending you weren’t staring.

He was the one watching you this time. He was thinking about the carnival that’s coming to your city soon. He was thinking about the fireworks they would be releasing at 10 PM sharp. He was thinking about how you would react to him asking you out.

Would you turn him down? Jungkook was well aware your feelings for him were serious but he was never sure how to make it obvious he too had them.

Would you say yes and kiss him like you had in his dreams?

He would just have to wait and hope for it all to workout.

#jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook fic #jungkook imagine #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #bts #bts jungkook

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dinogoofymutated · 3 days

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So I'm warming up to the idea of Cable now with this new animation style. And now I can't help but imagine a mutant reader seeing him shirtless for the first time 👉🏽👈🏽. Maybe she's helping him treat a wound he cant reach on his back and he's too worn out to rely on his telekinesis for it. Sure she knows that he has a metal arm. Techno-organic viruses were nasty business. But she never imagined she'd get to see the stark contrast of metal and flesh up close. Just a tender moment where she gets to see him at his most vulnerable. Preferably sfw. Sorry if this is too long winded or specific. Really love your writing and enjoy what you share with us regardless if u choose this one or not 🫶🏽

SFW!Cable/GN!Reader OOOOGHHHH when I tell you I have been thinking about this since you sent me the ask!! I've been dying to write this but forced myself to follow a schedule :( I've never really been a Cable girly but this scenario has been in my head non-stop! I just hope this fic does the same to others!!! Speaking of which, I hope this isn't too OOC for him! This also might get a pt 2 with some smooching 😘

Read pt. 2 Here :)

-Ps- Heads up, finals week is coming up for me and I have a lot of essays and work to do. my writing is sadly going to slow down a bit. I don't think I'm going to close requests for now but it's not out of the realm of possibility! TWs: Can't really think of any. Gross depictions of techno-organic shit. As always, Reader written while picturing fem! but no pronouns mentioned. The reader is short in this one, sorry to all my Amazonian friends.

Prime sentinels were like wasps. Squashing one could be relatively easy with the right tools, but it was difficult to handle multiples at once. It had been a rough day, and your ears were still ringing from the sounds of blaster fire when you got to the safe house. Your hands are shaking from the adrenaline, body exhausted from overusing your mutant powers. Bruises are forming all over you, and despite the pain and soreness, you know you got off easy compared to Cable.

He’s got an arm slung around your shoulder, using you as a crutch as you help him limp over to the table- although you’re sure you’re not a very good one, too short for him to properly lean on. His gun clanks on the floor as he sits, grunting as the movement sends shooting pains through his body. You can tell his left arm is aching, the techno-organic virus fighting to beat the telekinetic powers keeping them still. You weren’t the only one who overdid it today, but you also weren’t the one who had to keep a virus from eating you alive.

Once Cable is settled, the routine starts. You cautiously make a round through the safe house, making sure blinds are drawn and entryways secured. Usually, the task was split between the two of you, being faster and safer than it would be alone- but he would take it over when you were badly hurt. It was only natural that you would do the same. You feel the sting of anxiety and worry in your heart. Cable had saved your ass today. He had done so many times, but normally the fighting wasn’t this extreme. You had been stupid, and he was suffering the consequences.

A series of pained grunts lead you back into the kitchen once you’ve finished, and you can tell Cable is pissed just by the tone of them. You’re facing his back when you walk in, noticing the large red stain that spans across the width of his shoulders. You try to hide the worry on your face as you approach him. He has the medkit sprawled out on the counter, sorting through the various items in it.

“Can’t believe this thing doesn’t have a damn mirror.” He grunts. You hum in response, looking him over before examining the items on the table.

“What do you need a mirror for?” You ask, voice coming out a little hoarse. You clear your throat, must be from the smoke earlier. Cable sends you a look, tossing his head towards his back. You mouth an “oh” before looking at him, unable to hide your worried expression. You’d seen him stitch his wounds up with his telekinesis before, when the fight was all guns and no powers. An action like that was child’s play for someone of his capabilities. For him to actively avoid it, and the way his arm seemed to be bothering him more than normal… It made you worried. It made you feel guilty.

You look down at the suture kit, open on the table from where Cable had unzipped it, and then look back at him, wordlessly asking. He gives you a cautious look for a moment, before it shifts into something much softer. He doesn’t bother nodding, choosing to simply take his shirt off instead.

You blush a little but quickly get to work, grabbing a pair of gloves and pulling them on. They’re too big for you, meant to fit Cable’s sturdy hands instead of your own smaller ones. You try not to get distracted by the sight of him shirtless as you pick up what you need and get behind him. The air has shifted between the two of you, forming into something a little more intimate. Something that builds itself on words unspoken, truths that neither of you is quite ready to communicate yet.

His back is broad and beautiful, dotted with scars and bruises. The gash on his shoulders is from a stray blast, starting at the top of his left shoulder and ending at the lower shoulder blade of his right.

You’re not sure if you had been ready to see the cut-off between flesh and metal.

The cords of metal attach to the skin of his shoulder in a way that makes your skin crawl. They sprout from underneath the skin, winding against each other in a way that makes no clear sense to you. The top layers of skin are rough, keloid scarring having formed at the impasse of skin and metal. It's horrific, the way the virus has both eaten and forced its way under the skin. The top of the gash is somewhat deep, the deep inner cording revealed by the wound cutting through the top of his skin has you unable to look away despite the horror that has taken you.

“I can feel you staring, you know.” Cable’s rumbling voice causes you to snap back to reality.

“Right. Sorry. I didn’t mean to…” You trail off, not fully able to place the words. He sighs, and you mistake it for annoyance. You quickly get back on track and begin to disinfect the wound. Cable hardly flinches as you do so. You’re overly cautious as you stitch him up, focusing on each stitch being perfectly placed. You know they wouldn’t stay for long. Cable had a habit of tearing his stitches. You hope that maybe you’d be able to keep that from happening this time.

You place both hands on his shoulder blades when you are done. The nerves have worn off as the pseudo-doctor in you took over. You’re trying to examine the stitches, but find that your attention keeps being drawn back to that stark contrast of his shoulder. If Cable notices, he doesn’t say anything. You glance at the back of his head, trying to gauge what he’s feeling.

Your left hand drifts a little. Cable shudders as your thumb gently traces that line of scarring, the metal of his arm feeling extra cold compared to the heat of his skin. You’re waiting for him to say something. To tell you to back off. To grumble and shake you off and avoid speaking to you like he used to when you first started to work together- when he was so determined not to get attached.

But he doesn’t say anything. Not at first, anyway. The tenseness of his shoulders slowly gives as the gently touching morphed into more purposeful touches, working the stiff muscles- what was left of the organic ones, anyway.

It’s intimate. It’s quiet. It’s… nice. Part of you wishes it would last a little longer. Part of you wishes he would let you touch him like this more often.

Cable stiffens again as the thought crosses your mind, recoiling away from you. He stands suddenly, turning around to face you. His towering stature used to make you nervous out of fear. Now you’re nervous for a completely different reason. Part of you had forgotten about the glimpses he takes into your mind. A flicker of anxiety ignites when you realize how much he might have seen. The two of you just look at each other for a moment, his brown eyes hard compared to the softness from earlier. You hadn’t meant to think so much. You didn’t think he was horrific. It was the virus. What it was doing to him. The energy and effort it takes out of him. That was what scared you.

Cable was used to the stares. The horror. Most recoiled at the sight of his flesh. It only made sense to him when you did too.

But Nathan… Nathan wasn’t ready for the depth of your thoughts. The care in your eyes. He wasn’t ready for the depth of his own feelings. The ones that cause such a storm within him. The ones that cause him to be stupid. The ones that make him focus more on saving you than the goal of every mission.

“Is this… Are we okay?” You ask. He didn’t need to be a telepath to sense the fear that has swelled within you. Most of your emotions were always written on your face. It made things easier for him when he didn’t have to search for your thoughts. That hardness in his eyes softens yet again, and he glances away for a moment.

“... Yeah.” Is all he says. His heart feels light when you finally smile at him, even though an underlying nervousness still resides behind that smile. You let out a relieved sigh, and he can’t bear to look at you any longer. Instead, he sits back down. He faces away from you, giving you the space to finish taking care of the wound on his back.

You don’t realize how late it is until you’re finished, and the mess on the counter has been cleaned and contained back in the medkit. The two of you sit together as you eat. The food isn’t great- consisting of an MRE that’s not exactly as advanced as the futuristic weapons and technology would lead you to believe. He doesn’t say anything when you lean on his shoulder, or when your breathing evens out, having fallen asleep on his side.

The aches and pains don’t really bother Nathan as he carries you to bed, but the thoughts of you, your feelings, your thoughts… Those keep him awake longer than any wound would.

#x men 97 #x men #x men comics #x men 97 x reader #x men headcannons #cable headcannons #cable x reader #cable xmen #nathan summers x reader #nathan summers #nathan summers headcannons #Cable imagines

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cricketnationrise · 1 day

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20 questions for fic writers

Thanks to @cha-melodius, @kiwiana-writes, and @happiness-of-the-pursuit for the tags!

How many works do you have on ao3?

253

What's your total ao3 word count?

481,635

What fandoms do you write for?

RWRB, Check Please!, Tortall, verrrry occassionally The Parasol Protectorate

Top five fics by kudos:

Going Platinum - camboy!Alex AU

Burnin' Through the Sky - speed dating meet-cute

Set in Platinum - camboy!Alex sequel

warm from the inside out - some stuff happens under a desk 😉

Downburst - In The Shadow of Two Gunmen/West Wing AU

Do you respond to comments?

I have responded to every comment so far!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't tend to write angsty endings. That being said, this Check, Please! ficlet I wrote for @shygryf is very angsty: Hotel Room, Mar. 1 (I did fix it with a later ficlet, but on it's own...)

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of them tbh. I'm an unrepentant happy ending lover.

Do you get hate on fics?

Nothing that comes to mind--I've been extremely lucky. I've gotten some baffling ones and some with a strange tone, but I think that's more down to English not being their first language, not hate.

Do you write smut?

Yes.

Craziest crossover:

I tend toward fusions/AUs rather than actual crossovers. Although there are Check Please! easter eggs in the Going Platinum universe.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of, although I would hope that any translator would have let me know so that I can flail in overwhelmed gratitude.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not yet, although there's one that's been sitting for a year-ish that I'm gonna be really excited to finally get to.

All time favorite ship?

I won't choose and you can't make me.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Not right now. All the wips I've got that are more than just like, one line or a title, I'm really excited about writing and sharing.

What are your writing strengths?

Immersive descriptions, humor, and metaphors. This bitch loves a metaphor.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Action scenes. I'm getting better, but any time I have a particularly big action scene I beg on my knees for @cha-melodius to get into the doc.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Only If I feel confident about the translation. I'll usually get a native speaker to check it over if it's more than an easy phrase I already know/can google, especially if it's a whole conversation.

First fandom you wrote in?

Check, Please!

Favorite fic you've written?

You're so mean to me making me pick. Le sigh, fine.

Check, Please!: How Delightful if that Were True - Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society AU (100% homegrown epistolary baybee)

RWRB: More Than Brick and Mortar - sentient Brownstone AU, magical realism

Tortall: i'll rise up in spite of the ache - hockey AU of First Test

Parasol Protectorate: No Small Matter - 5+1 pranks on Conall that I wrote for @homobiwan

(narrowing these down was absolute agony, btw. hope you're happy.)

Tags under the cut, but if you wanna do this, who am I to stop you? Aka consider this your open tag.

@celeritas2997 @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inexplicablymine @leaves-of-laurelin @anincompletelist

@firenati0n @missanniewhimsy @montrealmadison @doggernaut @parvuls

#cricket writes #writer games #20 questions #rwrb #omgcp #tortall #parasol protectorate #check please #personal faves

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itsonlydana · 23 hours

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Find a cure for my heart | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x human fem!reader 👑

On the eve of the battle, you and Thranduil spent a night that spurred a flurry of letters while Dale grew as a city and you both grew too, first apart, then closer again. However, you couldn't bring yourself to burden him with the truth that your health was deteriorating with each passing day.

warnings/tags: sickness, angst, mentions of death (reader is actively dying but only realizes after Thranduil helps) hurt/comfort, happy end

words: 5,6k

an: finally finished this fic after working on it since January. If you are interested in being tagged when I post new fics– comment that under this post or send it to me in my inbox!

+ masterlist + rules

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

Contrary to general belief, the elves did not return to their forests immediately after the battle.

In the stories told, there would be remarks, on how the Elvenking offered his help to the yet-to-be-crowned King Bard once more, bringing aid with however warriors he had left for disposal to search the endless chaos and ruins of Dale for survivors until many sunsets later.

They would speak about the sorrow of losing friends and family and neighbors to a war that had been won at costs no one could comprehend yet, and they would mention how the great Elvenking guided them through the darkest of nights for he had experienced this all before; the grief, the helplessness and the colossal question of What now, who's to say we haven't lost ourselves as well as those we have to bury?

Many had their own experience with the Elvenking, whether it was a hand pulling them off the ground, a loaf of bread delivered to them after days of fighting, or a warm blanket to huddle under to finally lay their body to rest under the watchful eye of Elves that had sworn to protect them.

You had your own story. A different one.

But it wasn't one with the Elvenking, no; the night before the battle, where the air was filled with the sound of blades being sharpened and children crying for their parents, you had met Thranduil, King of the Woodland Elves but most importantly: a set of strong arms that caught you as you stumbled out of Bard's tent.

You needed to run away from the discussions over how to draw the dwarfs out of the mountain.

You'd been a friend to Bard for many long years but standing in that luscious tent, being offered wine as the Wizard, Bard, and the Hobbit pondered over what was about to happen while you weren't sure your mind caught up on what had happened already, there was no room for friendship inside your panic-riddled chest.

Just as you flung open the tent flaps and tried to dash away to get some air, your foot caught on a root, and had it not been for Thranduil's fast reflexes, you surely would've planted your face into the dirt and mud.

Up until now, you had no idea what had transcended between the two of you at the moment where his arms held you up, his softening face looking down at your widened eyes filled with tears and your tongue too tied up and heavy to say anything other than: "Air– please"

Whatever it had been, likely an unspoken wish – by Thranduil or you, or maybe you both; it didn't matter – for someone who would not pass judgment over the urge to disappear from your skin and role and crown for one night, a fallen star flung across the darkened skies at the right time.

It felt as though Thranduil had pulled a sheet over your heads; your world narrowed down to this other soul and how beautiful and divine his body felt on yours as you found a way to survive the night before life as you knew it turned once more and the solid ground beneath your feet shifted and broke.

A few nights, while unforgettable and brooding with feelings neither of you admitted to, did not change that you had to move on somehow.

Although the Elves did not depart for Mirkwood immediately and Thranduil and you were given time in the aftermath to find the other in the cover of the night and under the pretense this was nothing more than mere distraction, a wishing star could only do so much shining before dimming out.

The day you awoke to a sunrise bathing the debris of Dale in a pinkish and warm light, pillars being rebuilt dipped into molten gold, and the cracks glued together, Thranduil's strong arms were wrapped around your middle as if he wanted to hinder you from sneaking away, you knew it was him who would leave you before the day was over.

And so he did.

Sunrise came and went and soon enough all the tents were packed up on horseback and wagons, leaving flattened grass as the only reminder they had been there at all if and there were goodbyes, political between Bard and the Elvenking who parted from the weary man and his children with the promise of support, and between you and Thranduil in the form of a slow nod.

Thranduil sat high on a dark stallion, dressed in silver and long robes that hid fingerprints that spoke of an attempt to cling to transience. His chin lowered, though his eyes were fixed on you.

You knew that nod carried the conversation you had whispered into the morning mist.

And it was all that wasn't said that motivated you to step away first and turn your back on the caravan that took away a King and a Lover.

There was much to do, the looming task of building up Dale needed everyone's full attention, and that included you.

Especially you.

There were houses to plan, accommodations to be made so that no one needed to sleep under the stars.

No one could ever pry the reason why you were keen on getting a roof under everyone out of your hands; a lonely part of you wanted the stars to remember you and Thranduil lying in the grass. And no one else.

The first letter arrived a few weeks after you hadn't had the heart to watch him go and threw yourself into one task after the other, dismissing even the smallest hint of sickness, like the heaviness inside your chest every time you lifted something heavy, or tiredness crashing down onto you in moments to catch your breath, to continue working, that you wouldn't find a moment to admit how much you missed him.

That utterly ridiculous mindset stopped as soon as the messenger Elf rode into the city and hand-delivered you the first of many envelopes with the nearly indecipherable handwriting of Thranduil.

Or the Elvenking.

Because the first letter, despite being addressed to you as well as Bard, who wouldn't have been able to read it in the first place, was a list of things the King would send and a question of what else was needed that he could provide.

"It's fine," you said to Bard through a smile that didn't reach your eyes as you read aloud the letter twice, from the greeting to the last paragraph that was signed 'the Elvenking Thranduil Oropherion, Lord of Mirkwood and friend of Dale'.

In the flickering light of the candle dripping wax onto the table between you, the dark circles under Bard's eyes were all the more prominent than when he was running around the city and there was a bottomless pit in your stomach that wouldn't want to add to the many things he was already worrying about.

"It's totally fine," you said to Bard when he asked if you had skipped over a private note from Thranduil or if there truly wasn't one (there wasn't, you had turned the letter over and over in your hands until the edges became soft and wrinkled) and you both knew that to be a lie.

You answered the letter in the same professional manner because even though you wanted to, you couldn't send a letter to a King helping however he could and expecting nothing in return with a smeared "I wish for your heart and our nights and for your voice to tell me we are alright" written under tears in another sleepless night.

The next few letters follow the same pattern, Elvenking Thranduil Oropherion would inquire if there was anything Dale needed and answer Bard's question on leadership and share his knowledge of what was fundamental for a new King, and you would write for Bard on the other side.

The weeks passed and so did the hope of rekindling that fire you had thought to burn in the both of you.

That Thranduil didn't see the need to reach out was a punch to the gut that left little room for anything else but disappointment of putting your effort into pulling on a rope that wasn't attached to something on the other end.

Why waste the dwindling energy of your exhausted body on someone who would live longer than the memory of you?

Every time a new letter arrived by messenger you would find Bard until one late evening you opened the letter by yourself and saw your name written in that beautiful sharp handwriting, not Bard's added in front or behind; only your given name and not your title.

Your hands shook as you stood in the frame of what was to be your house and the ink glued together the cracks of your heart.

'Forgive me for not writing to you sooner and for how sentimental I must sound. It has been weeks since I last saw you and every time I wander through my familiar halls, I find there is no soul around that could understand me how you did, whom I could tell what plagues my mind. The time we spent together has not left my thoughts. Neither has the promise to not grow apart too much and I apologize for not contributing to that. Now, if you would still have me, I would like nothing more than to hear how you are faring. As for me…'

Nothing had the power to stop you from running off that giddy feeling that spread through your chest as Thranduil, finally Thranduil, wrote about the happenings in Mirkwood; not even the cough that sat deep where suppressed laughter spilled into the grass you fell into– the letter clutched into your hands.

Thranduil and you fell into a routine then, one that was no obstruction for the many tasks at hand but made room for each other to hold on to the promise.

You would send out two letters, one on behalf of Bard whom you taught his signature as well as a few more words every fortnight you sat down together, and one addressed to Thranduil, filled with all the thoughts that ran through your mind that you wanted to tell him.

It was by no means as precious as the talks you had now many weeks ago, not when there were days you had to wait for a response instead of seconds.

You appreciated them all the same, every bit of himself that Thranduil wrote into his messages was countered with a confession of your own.

When he said he wished to know where his son had disappeared to or rather if he followed the direction Thranduil had given to him, you admitted to the nightmares that still plagued your mind, the dreams of fire and a monster that still rested in the lake.

You offered piece after piece, chipped bits of your heart into every letter that you sent away, and after a few weeks had passed, and Dale was taking shape with its houses raking their roofs to the sky and its people planting seeds and flowers, rooting themselves into what now was theirs, there was not much left of your heart that was completely yours and not Thranduil's and the letters of his proved that the same could be said about him.

What you did not mention, not with one drop of ink, was that the nightmares were no longer confined to the few hours of sleep you fell into.

There was a dragon, not just in the cold lake where your old home lay in ashes and was drowned in the ruthless darkness, but by the heavy weight on your chest, it felt like there was one inside you as well.

You were coughing as if there was smoke blocking your lungs, blackening out what little air you heaved for when a coughing fit took over your whole body.

It started small, a cough then, a sleepless night there; both accumulated to an uncountable amount and it got only worse as the season changed and the autumn winds lost their last warm touches and the trees bared their wooden arms.

You waved it off as a common cold, nothing that would hinder you from your tasks to becoming a liability the city didn't need in its time of growth.

Then, the coughing got worse, rougher, sometimes taking your voice for a moment until you found some water although that only helped for a small moment, like trying to extinct a burning building with just the water your bare hands could carry.

The worst part was the blood that stained the cloths, the sweats that not only held you awake at night but weakened you at day as well.

"I'm better!" you promised Bard on a night when he had to sit next to your bed, wringing out the cold cloths that lay on your fevered forehead.

His voice was a low whisper when he dabbed away the sweat, pushing your wet hair back with hands that were far too gentle for what you deserved for rotting in bed and not pulling your weight, "You're not, an' that's clear for everyone but you. Did you tell him?"

"Yes," you lied through your teeth, eyelids dropping close from exhaustion but you knew sleep wouldn't come, "he said it would pass, nothing to worry 'bout."

Three days later you were on your legs again, if not a bit shaky and needing more breaks than ever.

You sat in Bard's kitchen, a warm bowl of soup in front of you that tasted like ash and firewood, and ignored the silent pleading in his eyes to tell him what was going on and why you could barely lift the spoon of a soup that you clearly did not enjoy.

Winter wore your body down like rough sandpaper on soft oak, the cold winds and dark hours an enemy far worse than what you had to encounter on the battlefield. This had no logical explanation, nor was there an enemy you could see.

Your own body betrayed you and you had no idea what you had done to deserve it.

You knew that somewhere was a solution to it all, that was the string of hope leading you through the snow outside and the fire in your blood and bones, singing down what little fight was left on the days when the sun pushed away gray clouds and you felt normal and healthy.

The sole reason why you lied in letters filled with otherwise honesty as pure as heaven's snowflakes was that you did not want to be a bother.

Thranduil wrote how much of his time the dwarfs and their trading demands swallowed; he did not need another burden and you would be damned if he came because you had a small cold you couldn't get rid of.

You had promised Thranduil to visit him in spring when the soil was rich enough for the seed to take and the livestock could roam the meadows. If you weren't better by then you would ask him.

Until then work demanded all of you. Even if that was through a white knuckle grip on the last bits of health in aching bones.

⸺

Spring brought forth daffodils pushing through the cobblestone streets. Tilda, the youngest Bardling and a wonderful distraction on the days when getting out of bed was the hardest bounced excitedly beside you and pointed at the flowers.

"Like stubborn trumpets proclaiming winter is finally over!" she said as you followed her outside. "Spring is finally here!"

You disregarded the pain echoing through your body, the weight of guilt forcing you to spend the day with the girl.

She had been knocking on your door every morning, angelic eyes asking if you wanted to come and play with the lambs that she had taken too and this morning, you couldn't disappoint her.

"Aren't they just so pretty?" Tilda crouched down, gently cupping one of the blossoms in her small hands.

Lowering your gaze from the burning brightness of the sun you got a short glimpse at the yellow dots decorating your doorstep.

Then, suddenly, black spots appeared on the edge of your vision, taking you by surprise though they have been your companion for the better part of the last few days.

"Tilda–"

You tried to hold on to your doorframe, bruised hands frantically searching for a grip on the warm wood but they slipped and caught only the edge.

The last thought that crossed your mind was that you should bring Thranduil some of those flowers before you blinked and crumbled to the ground.

⸺

You woke up to the confusing taste of grass on your heavy tongue and the dizzying realization that you were not spread out on the street but tugged inside your bed.

Above you, moonlight fell through the opened window in the slanted roof above your head and you immediately closed your eyes again.

This had to be a dream.

Though your dreams had not been like this in a long time.

Peaceful. Comfortably warm. Silent except for the croaking of toads, the buzzing of insects outside, and the laughter and clattering of your neighbors probably enjoying the night more than you.

A groan passed your lips as you tried to sit up; a seemingly impossible task with the heaviness of your bones as well as the mountain of blankets that covered you.

"What do you think you are doing?" a voice you knew all too well sneered.

For a second you thought it to be a hallucination, a projection or your dazed mind still lulled in the fog of unconsciousness.

The bones in your neck cracked as your head snapped to the other side. There was no way you did not imagine the tall figure that should be across the woods in his palace; not in your bedroom.

"What are you doing here?"

"Merely strolling through the neighborhood," Thranduil's voice dripped with sarcasm, yet a subtle tension marked his stance beside the bed. "Now, enlighten me. Did you conveniently forget to mention this sickness in your letters?"

Ah, straight to the point.

"It's trivial," you waved it off, attempting to assert yourself by sitting up.

Naturally, consciousness promptly slipped away once more.

This time you were not that surprised by the sharp taste of grass on your lips when you came to your senses once more, pushed back into the pillows that had never felt this stuffed. You were still unable to move your leg more than from one side to the other under the blankets and Thranduil was still there, glaring at you through dark furrowed brows and hardened eyes.

You wanted to say something to break the heavy silence but all that passed your lips was a giggle that was more desperate and closer to insane than amusement.

One brow lifted. "Oh, how glad I am you are entertained by this," said Thranduil. He was as rigid in a frightening calm way but all of that was overshadowed by the cloud of confusion that muddled your thoughts.

"Noo," you drew out the word and continued giggling. This had to be insanity. "You jus' look very out of place here – wait. Turn around? I need to make sure you're really here."

He didn't fit into the cramped space of your house, his fine clothing stood out against the poor backdrop of crooked furniture, used towels hanging over stools, and the small layer of dust that covered the areas you hadn't been able to clean in a while; which was most of the bedroom and you didn't dare think about the state of the kitchen.

Where he deserved a throne out of gold you could only offer the chair next to your bed, the one that was crooked and leaned heavily to one side.

That being said, nothing took away the sheer amount of power he radiated.

It easily filled every nook and cranny or tight corner of your humble house, his voice as well as the image of Thranduil, King of the Elves, towering over your bed in long robes and bathed in the light of the night sky, glittering silver like the moon knew the importance of the Elf in front of you.

Thranduil remained stoically still. "I will definitely not do that," he said. "I am here. Where I should have been a while ago."

The accusation would have hit harder if you weren't drugged up on whatever medicine he had apparently fed you while you were out cold.

You shrugged your shoulders as well as you could with your arms bundled under the blankets. "I saw no reason, it was just a cold. Nothing I couldn't manage."

Well, you hadn't managed to handle it, that was the worst realization of the whole lie.

"Clearly," Thranduil said sarcastically and ground his teeth against each other. His arms were behind his stiff back and the way he tilted his head down to you made you feel like a child being admonished for bad behavior. "Do you know how much despair I felt when Bard's letter arrived this morning?" His voice was even but there was a resonance in it – a deep rumble akin to the ominous approach of distant thunderstorms over the sea. "Nearly indecipherable scrambles where he begged me to come; telling me that you have been asleep for two whole days?"

A crack in the form of a small tremor broke through the mask of the all-mighty Elvenking.

"This morning?" you asked, caught up by the first part and ignorant of everything that followed after, and you huffed while running the calculations through your head. "Thranduil, this can not be, the journey is not manageable in one day."

"Is this truly the point you consider most important?" He closed his eyes as a pained expression passed over his face. "You deem it impossible, yet I assure you, nothing could have hindered my arrival here; the boundaries of possibility, for once, were not a barrier but an aid. It reveals your scant regard for your circumstance if your worry fixates on my journey through the land. Not on the sickness that nearly stole you from this world. Two days –" Thranduil took a deep breath, "two whole days where those around you had no idea if you would ever awake again."

"But –"

"No, you can speak when I am finished," he commanded sharply. "You were reckless. Ignorant of your health as if your life was not precious." Thranduil spat the words out cold yet they burned. He was blind to the way you flinched and lowered your burning eyes to the blankets.

You shrunk deeper into the pillows, a hollow ache inside your chest that had felt empty from the pain ever since you awoke the first time.

"But –" you repeated helplessly. This time, he allowed you to continue and you did so in a whisper: "I didn't want to be an inconvenience."

"An inconvenience?" he sneered back at you, the flickering lights of a few burned-down candles casting shadows over the creases of anger edged into alabaster skin.

He took a step toward the bed and you saw a twitch in his lips that had you blanching.

The fury brooding inside him was not new, you had seen it on the battlefield before. In ice-cold cuts of his sword as he flawlessly executed the most brutal movements while his face resembled a mask of the most dangerous kind of rage – stillness.

Now, there remained little of that stillness.

"You were a greater inconvenience by nearly throwing away your precious mortal life, all because of your unfathomable stubbornness!"

"There was lots to do!" you snapped back. Shortly but surely, you were fed up with his anger and the insults he was throwing at you. "This town was suffering far more than me and don't you dare tell me I'm wrong," you had to bury your teeth into your lower lip to stop it from shaking. "Dale needed me!"

The pale skin was flushed red around his heaving chest and delicate ears. "And I do not?" Thranduil road and his voice boomed through your little bedroom loud enough for the cicadas outside to fall silent.

Immediately, your eyes watered. You felt trapped under his gaze, engulfed in pure heat hotter than any dragon fire.

You searched for a response inside you but found none.

All there was was chaos – the loud beating of your heart against your chest like iron being beaten and shaped though all that was formed was pain sharp like a sword edge; cutting through the layers of protection you had wrapped around your heart.

Thranduil slightly lifted his nose, staring down at you through thick eyebrows and a clenched jawline. "You were dying," he said and his nostrils quivered. "I can not fathom how you through that would not have been a greater inconvenience.

His expressions made up in sound for the lowered voice he'd used to speak about what you previously refused to acknowledge.

Never before had you seen him this out of control of his emotions, not even on the nights he had bedded you where he still had a hold on himself.

The way he stood before you, dressed in fine robes not fit for riding, the hem of them stained by dirt, his boots muddy, and his face full of anguish, it was as if he could have been kneeling at your feet.

You ignored the tears slipping silently down your cheeks. "It wasn't that bad, was it?"

"It was indeed, and far beyond that."

The tears made it impossible for you to continue looking at him and your head dropped down as a sob broke through you. "I didn't know," you panicked, "It didn't happen fast so… so I thought it'd pass but – and then it got worse and worse and I was so afraid to speak to anyone about it." The words tumbled into your lap, where, under the blankets, your hands were balled to fists now that the strength to do so had returned to your body, "I – I couldn't," the night air stung as your breaths turned into gasps, "They – Bard was exhausted and –"

Thranduil's face softened ever so slightly, pushing away the furious frown. "You are too pure for this world," he said quietly and – dealing a fatal blow to your ever-fragile heart – slowly went down on one knee next to the bed until you were eye to eye and his cold long fingers could gently caress your wet cheek.

He stopped, most of his fingers covered in the glistening tears he'd freed you from and his thumb rested on the plushness of your lower lip. "The world would have lost its sunshine had you perished," his robes rustled as he drew closer, silver hair falling onto the blankets like stars flying across the skies, "You must promise me to be more careful or darkness shall be my companion from that day on."

How could you do anything else but break into tears once more?

They flooded your face too fast for Thranduil to catch them with his hand and he did what seemed more reasonable yet utterly out of character: he rose to push away some of the blankets and sat down on the mattress.

While his face showed some revelation of his thoughts at the meek bed of hay that surprised him, he said nothing except for a lowered: "Hush now, shh." while his arms found your shaking body and pulled you into his side.

He cradled you until there were no more tears to cry, until your cheeks hurt and your lashes clung together awfully damp, and then some more, his hands on your back, cooling down the firing heat that spread through you and the other in your hair. With tenderness, he massaged his fingertips into the areas where your head throbbed uncomfortably.

You cried for all the nights where you had suffered, drawing closer to a death you hadn't seen coming.

You cried out of relief that this was finally over, that you could breathe and inhale only the rich scents of Thranduil instead of smoke.

You sobbed uncontrollably long into the night, not caring one bit that by the time the wailing grew quiet and exhaustion rendered you weak enough to fall into his chest even more, Thranduils robes needed to be padded dry.

"Thranduil?" you asked and burrowed your nose into a spot of fabric that wasn't salty. "Can you tell me what was happening to me?"

He didn't start directly. Thranduil waited, his heart stuttering for a second that made you marvel that the muscle was affected by you at all despite the many proofs he had laid to your feet.

Were it not for the pounding headache you fostered and tried to push away by shutting away all the lights and leaving your eyes closed, you would have looked at his face to check for those minuscule expressions he only showed to you.

"At first I could not figure it out," Thranduil admitted at last and his previously stilled hand continuing the circular movements against your scalp, gathering hair between his fingers, "and that frightened me more than anything else. There was not a scratch or a wound, nothing that explained why you were hardly–" he flinched and his other hand held your waist tighter, "hardly breathing. Bard was the one who explained how much you fought against this illness all winter, ever since autumn to be precise. He spoke of the meals you denied, the coughing and shaking, the blood-soaked cloths, and how.. how you rarely slept and if you did, he told me he heard your whimpers and sobs whenever he passed your door."

"He noticed it all?"

"He loves you," Thranduil said, "He loves you just as much as his offspring."

You shut your eyes even closer, turning your head more into his chest as another layer of protection against the feeling of pain that flinched over your face like a stone skipping on water, leaving ripples of agony at the memory of the many times Bard had pleaded you to talk to him. "I never wanted him to hurt at my expense."

"He is aware you thought it to be better this way," Thranduil lovingly stroked your hair – and it was love, soft and beautiful like the elf who abandoned his kingdom to race to save you – "To go against his word to you declares him a strong man and leader, Dale will flourish under his guide and your gentle hand will provide your people all they will ever need."

"So what was it?" you asked the question eating away at you, "This sickness?"

Thranduil's fingers twirled a lock of hair as he hummed lowly, "The beast in the lake is at fault," he said, "and its body infesting the in any case dirty water that you used to still your thirst."

You lifted your head at that, staring up at Thranduil whose gaze was already on you. "The dragon?" you repeated perplexed, "I got sick because of that damned dragon?"

Thranduil nodded, "I sent out the order to have its carcass removed this instant, so no one else has to suffer this fate."

You drew your eyebrows together, the hard crease between them immediately found by Thranduil for him to smooth the frown away with his thumb and a soft click of his tongue.

"So I was the only one?" The conclusion was confirmed by another nod that sent you down another spiral of confusing thoughts and loose threats of a riddle that made no sense to you.

"A mystery," Thranduil said as if he could read your thoughts, "There is no explanation as to why you solely were affected and quite intense at that. I was glad to have brought Asëa aranion with me – although you required more than a handful until your heart finally calmed."

In a moment of contemplating silence, you barely managed to stifle a yawn.

Now that your body seemed to be fine again, all your muscles yearned for the sleep that had evaded you for the longest time.

Thranduil's pleasantly warm body around you lulled you into a state of calmness, his body heat and the memories of his touch you replaced with the feeling of his strong chest in your back, and his hands threading hair through his fingers.

He was curled up in your bed, in your home, not some tent under the stars though you could see them if you looked up and through the window.

As you did so, your eyes didn't travel further than Thranduil and the watchful look on his face.

"You're as beautiful as the day you left," you remarked in a whisper like a slip of your tongue but you meant every word.

While your body ached and wore new scars his hands and mouth hadn't explored yet, he could've been away for a day or less.

You lifted a hand to stroke over his left cheek, over the faint scarred muscles that you knew by whispers hid what he deemed hideous.

Thranduil caught your hand before it reached his cheekbones and his lips pressed a light kiss against the calluses, the signs of hours of work.

"Rest, meleth nîn, you need it."

There was no denying that the elvish words had meant something important, that was clear by the way his tongue had wrapped around the words and breathed them out like a kiss but his lowered lashes and downturned lips hindered you from asking what he had said.

This was not the time to question what was probably just for him.

Later, when you were not falling into the depths of sleep cuddled against Thranduil's chest, when you would step outside your house with his looming presence in your back ready to help you with every foot you set on the grounds, there would be stories awaiting you.

Stories of the Elvenking storming into the city on horseback and all alone, the wind seemingly carrying him faster than possible and the fury and worry on his face lowered all citizens to the grounds as he yelled for their King.

They would speak about the way he nearly broke down Bard's door and how he carried your unconscious body in his arms to your house, demanding for the crowd to make themselves rare before he had them all seized and locked into his halls for obstructing his path; and even though he had no authority, Bard was close on his heels and no one dared to object.

You would hear about the day he sat by your side, caring for you and barking out orders for more water, not the one from the lake but from the springs, and how Bard and his children were the only ones allowed to visit – explaining the yellow flowers that took up every single glass your house had to offer.

Thranduil would tell you the meaning of the words he had said that first night he had spent in your bed, fully awake and watching your sleeping form in his lap until the birds woke you up in the morning; and he would say these words on all the nights that followed.

With him in Dale, or you in Mirkwood – never apart from then on.

#thranduil x reader #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil x you #thranduil #thranduil oropherion #king thranduil #king of mirkwood #the hobbit x you #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit fanfiction

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junkanimate · 1 day

Text

EHY I'VE BEEN READING A LOT OF FANFICTIONS LATELY

I know, who would have guess?? Anyway I wanted to send some appreciation all around to some of the fanfics I've read, because writers need some more appreciation in general.

so, in no particular order:

✨Here's a list of fanfics I've read/I'm reading that I think they're pretty good✨

Solid Stone Turns To Clay by @randyzorra - MK fic

A solid Johnshi fic set in a pirate au, I'm absolutely obsessed with it. It's a beautiful slow burn, where Johnny is a disgraced bounty hunter who's trying to regain his fame by stealing The Shadow, legendary cursed ship. Ship that so happens to have a certain someone as her captain. Honestly not only I love the romance, but also the friendship between Johnny and Kung Lao and Johnny and Baraka.

Beware that this fic is tagged as explicit, so check the tags carefully

Back There by houndhead - MK fic

Ehy, have you ever thought that Raiden wasn't there when the others went to Outworld to find Shang Tsung? Yeah what if they never told him what happened back there because of good ol' classic trauma? I'm in love with this concept and houndhead explores it in a very interesting way, showing us how each character would act after experiencing what happened at the lab. I also really love how the characters interact with each other, in the last chapter Tanya and Tomas are just perfect.

Raise The Blade (Make The Change) by cherrycola94 - MK fic

A very fun Johnshi fic that's written a little bit like a script, it has some added scene set before the game, some exploration of the canon through a Johnshi lense, ad finally it continues as a post canon, with a very fun story. While I was reading it I could see in my head the scene perfectly, like it was actually a movie. The second chapter has an AMAZING SCENE, like I was so in love that I have a wip of that scene. I should come back and finish it honestly. The new chapter had exactly the kind of scene I was craving for recently, I'm so happy they wrote it!

But I lowered my sword when you held me and swore (you'd stay, stay, stay) by @necromanticzz - MK fic

It's a johnshi fic with a Kenshi pov, where Kenshi has so many walls up doesn't want any help but Johnny just seems to be able to go through them without any problems. Honestly I also advice the other fic necromanticzz wrote about them, the way Kenshi gets chracterized in both of them is just *chef's kiss* perfect, beautiful, amazing. The two fics are just my favourite in the way Kenshi is written, applause all around, love it.

Koffee Shop Kombat by @loujitsushotsoup - MK fic

Because a classic coffee shop au is always needed. We have multiple ships, different writing styles between chaptes, changing with which character's pov we are following, and I love the creativity that was put in it. You maybe saw this post where I drew one of the scenes in this fic, so YOU KNOW that I mean it when i say that I love this fic. And I'm a big sucker for coffee shops as a setting, really love them in real life as well.

Cole's Chilli Recipe by @before-time-had-a-name - Ninjago fic

Another fic where I drew one of the scenes and it's because it deserves it. It's a lostshipping fic, very sweet, very cozy, honestly Cole and Geo make me incredibly emotional everytime and this fic also straight up picked me up and squashed me. I saw in some of the reblogs on my post that people went to check out the fic and I'm so happy about it because they deserve his work to be checked out. And honestly if I can give her more spotlight I will take the chance. Go check out this fic, it's very cool.

Here Comes Casey Jones by Invader_Sam - TMNT MM fic

Very sweet rasey fic that takes place post movie, with the turtles going to highschool and Raph meeting for the first time Casey Jones. What can I say? I just really love Rasey, and I love they're both clearly crushing on each other but they're not really saying it. And the fact that there's no unecessary teenage angst, they just really like each other, and I love that for them ❤

Think Of It As War Paint by less_depresso_more_espresso - TMNT 2012 fic

Another Rasey one, short and sweet, where both of them honestly are giving so much gender in my humble opinion. It's hard to explaning it without just saying all the fic, so we could say it's about them just chilling on a roof.

A Garden Across Our Collarbone by PittedPeaches - LMK fic

I think everyone and their mom already know this fic, and if you don't it would be my honor to talk to you about it. This for me is THE spicynoodle fic, it was one year of my life and honestly at the end of it I cried. This is a soulmate au, where demons sometimes have soulmates, and when that happen it's like they share skin, so they can write stuff on their body and it will appeared on the skin of their soulmate. It mostly starts like a rewriting of seson 1-2-3 by Red son's pov with this new dynamic, and then it becomes a new original timeline. The way this fic is everything to me, every chapter was an incredible experience, I fell in love with this fic at every chapter. So many beautiful scenes, written so beautifully, as I said this fic was 1 YEAR of my life. It was also a very difficult year, and I'm honestly so happy that this fic was there for that time of my life.

Desde el Principio by ShippingMyWorld - Nicktoons United fic

Okay idk If you saw me reblogging a bunch of Nicktoons fanart like two days ago, but just so you know I'm totally going into the rabbit hole of this fandom and I will be lost for a while. Now, this is a Danny Fenton/Manny Rivera fic, the tag has only two fics and both of them are from this writer.

I wish I had this commitment in my life, to just being THE ONLY one creating a specific content for something and still having the motivation of doing it

I read this fic last night, I finished it at 5 a.m. and I do not regret it at all, this was amazing

I actually recommend reading both fics because they are very good, I'm giving a shout out to this one because I think it's the one that made the biggest impact to me personally. ShippingMyWorld you did it, you converted me, I ship this now.

And that's the list, thank you so much to every fanfic writers that give us such amazing art everyday, you're the backbone of fandom!

#mortal kombat #lmk #tmnt #lego ninjago #nicktoons #always wanted to do a masterpost of fic recommendations and I finally did it #they're clearly more mk themed #because it's the only tag I've been browsing for a while #and if you see that all of them are tagged as johnshi no you didn't #it's not like I have the johnny cage/kenshi takahashi tag open 24/7 #fic rec

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mars-mystic · 2 days

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Hiii Glance is something I hadn't considered before at all, wanna share some of the appeal?

I am very confused but intrigued

I’m gonna let you in on a little secret nonny, follow me. *takes you by the hand and leads you through many well lit corridors, ending with a final door. It is simple, but welcoming, already propped open for you.*

This is where the magic happens. *you step into a room. It is brightly lit, and filled with animate conversation. However, neither George nor Lance is anywhere to be found*

What’s this, you say. I thought you were gonna show me the appeal of glance. *I nod, cryptically*

I am. *as we walk around the room you begin to notice a large group forming around one corner. As we walk by, a massive cheer goes up, turning everybody’s heads*

What was that, you ask.

They did a thing, I say, grinning. We’ll come back once you’ve finished your tour. *we walk around the room in companionable silence, a few eyes on us, watching me, watching you.*

Do you get it now?

It’s just a bunch of people in a room, you say, confused. I wanted the appeal. Tell me about their history, their canon events. Do they even interact at all?

Oh that doesn’t matter, I say with a smile. It’s all about the people. The community. We built this place for ourselves, for our stories. So that we could share them with each other, and you. That’s the appeal. Glance is whatever you want to make of it.

***

Ok but listen up. They do have history. The raced together all the time as kids. They have a rivalry. They were somehow always around each other. They share a birth year. They never talk to each other anymore. Doesn’t it make you curious? Don’t you wonder what happened? What’s going on?

That’s the beauty of glance, how little we know about them. We don’t know their full history, but we know enough to be compelled. The rest is all guesswork babeyy, and it’s FUN. (I’m sure there are people out there who could give you a better idea of their history, but that’s not me. I’m not the historian, I’m the propaganda department).

Their capacity for rivals to lovers is unMATCHED. One sided hatred, one sided rivalries. They are opposites. They are the same. Uptight vs laidback. Cares sooooooo much vs doesn’t give a shit. It shouldn’t work but it DOES.

They are both insane, but in different ways. Insane4Insane. It’s about balance.

***

Shall we peruse the bookshelf? When I got here we only had one (maybe two) pages on ao3. Now we’re at five and counting (let’s go squad!). List is obviously abridged and also woefully incomplete. (I’m not saying this is y’all’s BEST fic (i mean it might be), I’m saying I’m just a girl. Also don’t ask what the categories mean. They are based vaguely on publishing dates but also vibes.

Early works

1. Parallel Players by crimandclove (@parallelplayers). This TOME was my first intro to glance and let me just say… it was convincing. Compelling. Some would say life changing (I would). This is THE glance bible. Pretty sure all of us have drawn at least a little bit of inspo from it for our own fics (I know I have).

2. cheque please by weegreenbean (@weegreenbean)

I would be remiss in talking about glance without mentioning my beloved. Doing god’s work over in strollonso but also over here in glance nation. Shoutout to this one because I read it last night, and it is textbook Early Glance™️. And because you couldn’t pay me to pick a favourite, there are too many to choose from.

3. Kamikaze by pitconfirm (@pitconfirm). Now with sequel. And both make me want to scream. One of the first fics I read when I got here.

4. The Worst Way to Love Somebody is Quietly by LilShiro (@lil-shiro). Ok I also read this one last night. But it’s soooooooooo them.

Post-modern Reformation (or whatever)

1. off-schedule by Anonymous. Always worth a reread. Always making me insane

2. good luck, babe! by Anonymous. Another fic I read last night. This might just be a list of fics I read last night, now that I think of it.

3. Superposition by girlcowboy3 (@girlcowboy3)

4. I tried so hard to remember where, when, why, how- by abovecalamity (@abovecalamity)

Special Notes

- There is an abundance of girl!george and/or girl!lance fics around. I mean… it is rule 63. Only fair. They are ALL amazing, go check them out

- glance is where I first found out about the soulmate goose trope. That was an… odd but fun period in my life.

- some of you guys have a lot to say (which I love), but you only get ONE mention. HOWEVER I would highly recommend clicking on the little author name button and seeing where that gets you.

Thank you for the ask nonny, hope to see you around (whoever you may be). My inbox is open if you ever wanna chat <3

#glance #glance nation #maple scone #1863 #i am a glance propagandist that’s my job #so here you go nonny <3 #hope this helps :)

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moviemandy · 2 months

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Not Strong Enough

Summary: How could anyone win a fight of will, when their opponent was Angela? Amanda sure as hell couldn’t, and she didn’t want to. Amanda enjoyed allowing herself to be enveloped in the solace of Angela, and reveled in the way her touches would burn her skin so beautifully. She wanted to be cared for and doted on, and Angela would never turn a blind eye to a friend in need, especially if that person is Amanda.

#finally finished my first fic of these two!!#the brain rot was too strong #never done a mood board before but this is the general vibe I felt writing it #smosh #amangela #amanda lehan canto #angela giarratana #smoshblr #smosh fic #my fics #also yes the title is from a boygenius song #I had the opportunity and so I took advantage of it #smosh fanfic

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laurzzz · 4 days

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Majestic Oppositions: Sibling Dynamics

I couldn't stop thinking about this meme days ago and I just HAD to put my boys into it heheheheh. Slight spoilers for Chapter 3 with Eclipse's magic showing... I actually finished Chapter 3 a few days ago but idk what's stopping me from posting it LMAO

Majestic Oppositions is an AU that I made about Assassins DCA x Royal Y/N. You can read the fic of the full series as I work on it here!

#dca fandom #laursdraws #majestic oppositions #assassins au #royalty au #assassin sun #assassin moon #assassin eclipse #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #fnaf eclipse #cw suggestive humor #i'll upload chapter 3 in a day or two maybe...#i ended up finishing that first over the animation bc of my arm pains and i just rlly wanted to finally write eclipse into the fic lol

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fogwitchoftheevermore · 26 days

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(context for watcher/listener!sausage can be found in the “videos” tag on my blog if you want it, but this ficlet can be read without said context)

- - -

“Y’know, of all the Hermits I was expecting to be pulling me into a dark corner tonight, I did not expect you to be first, Grian! I love the initiative!”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Grian says in a voice near a hiss. He’s got Sausage by the wrist, leading him into a small area of the upper floor of the tavern in Sanctaury that does look like it was built for the exact purpose Sausage is implying. Grian decides to ignore that as well.

“What are you doing here?” Grian’s straight to the point. He always has to be, with these Things, if he doesn’t want to get trapped in a loop of slant rhyming pleasantries.

“What do you mean?” Sausage asks, shaking his wrist out of Grian’s tight grip and leaning comfortably against the wall. “This is where I live. It’s my home. If anything, I should be asking you mysterious strangers what you’re doing here, but I’m sure you’ve heard that question enough for one day.”

“You know exactly what I mean.” Grian crosses his arms and tries his best not to look petulant, but he sure feels like it. “I thought They’d given up on trying to snatch me back, so why would They send you of all people? What’s your game?”

Sausage laughs, honest to god laughs, like he can’t believe Grian’s even asking him such a question. Grian thinks it’s a reasonable question, in this scenario, but what he thinks and what’s reasonable rarely seems to matter with these things.

“They didn’t send me,” Sausage looks him up and down in that way that makes Grian have to physically stop himself from curling inwards. This is why he never talks to Them. “Nobody sends me anywhere, they don’t tell me what to do and I like it that way! I just do my own thing. Isn’t that what you’re doing?”

“No you’re not! You’re not- you can’t be! That’s not how this works!” Grian begins to notice that he’s no longer whisper-shouting and starting to just-normal-shout and takes a deep breath, trying not to draw the attention of his friends enjoying themselves on the floor below. And, realistically, in the other dark corners Sausage seems to have built into this place.

“That’s exactly how this works. You didn’t think you were the only person who’d left, did you?”

Grian opens his mouth, closes it, and thinks. In hindsight… yeah, he had kind of assumed he’d been the only person who’d left. Not for lack of trying, probably- but They’d tried for so long to get him back, kept him closely surveilled even when They’d accepted he was gone- surely some people had caved to that pressure eventually. When there was no sign They’d ever let up, ever let you go… he could understand eventually letting it overtake you.

“Did- did you leave, too?” Grian doesn’t remember the last time he saw Sausage’s face. He didn’t know him back then, of course. He probably would’ve connected the man with the person Pearl so often spoke about sooner. But he knows it’s been a long time, maybe even longer than the last time Grian had gone There. He doesn’t think Sausage had been There, that day. This might explain why.

“Eh, not quite?”

“What-“ Grian flails, both mentally and with his arms a bit. “What do you mean not quite?”

“Exactly what I said! I was never- it’s complicated, y’know?”

“Explain. Now.”

“Well, uh,” Sausage seems to flounder for the first time since this conversation started, which Grian is choosing to take as a victory. “Look, I wasn’t- they didn’t pick me. For this, or for anything, ever. Sometimes things just happen and you get yourself into a place you shouldn’t have and then… they can’t get rid of me, I can’t get rid of them, it is what it is.”

Grian stares at him for a long moment. Really stares at him, in the same way Sausage had looked him over earlier, in the same way that makes you feel like you’re under a microscope. Judging by the sudden nerves in his eyes, Grian can assume he feels it too. Grian remembers his face. That had been the first thing he’d noticed, when the Hermits had arrived. It had been a long time since they’d seen each other, but Grian knew his face. And now that Grian was studying him, really trying to remember… he’s not sure he quite likes what memories he’s dredging up.

“What are you?”

“Grian!” Sausage’s voice drips with mock offense as he puts his hand up to partially cover his mouth. “We only just met, do you think that’s polite?”

“Answer the question,” Grian sighs. How Pearl deals with this man on the regular, he doesn’t know.

“Well, if you insist.” Sausage sighs, somehow even more exaggerated than his previous movements. “It’s just… if you’ll believe it, it’s somehow even harder to answer the first question.”

“It shouldn’t be,” Grian says. “They’re two very different People, you know.”

“But they’re the same species, when it all comes down to it. Like, you might be very different than a chicken, but you’re both birds in the long run.”

Grian pauses, fanning his wings out a bit behind him as he considers. “I don’t think that metaphor’s quite landing the way you want it to.”

“No, me neither. Anyways, let me continue.

When they don’t pick you, things go a little differently! You don’t get sorted onto one side or the other since, well, you’re not really supposed to be there? So I’m… whatever I want to be, really. I think I’m feeling like more of a Listener, today, but we’ll see how the mood shifts.”

Grian flinches at the Name, on instinct. He doesn’t know how to feel about that, so he files it away to be dealt with at a later date. As for the rest of what Sausage said-

“What?”

“You heard me.” Sausage shrugs. He’s so nonchalant, Grian thinks he might strangle him, if not for the worry that that’s exactly what he wants out of this, somehow.

“Did I? Did I hear you?” Grian wants to pace, but that requires leaving the security of the corner, so he forces his feet to root themselves to the floor. “I thought- I thought you had to- if you wanted to change sides, I thought you had to-“

Grian closes one eye and takes his thumb to it, twisting the finger into his eyelid. The gesture seems to get the point across.

“Well, that’s the funny thing about this, actually.” From the way he’s been talking, Grian assumed Sausage thought this whole thing was funny. He restrains himself from saying that out loud if only so Sausage will finish his explanation.

Sausage reaches up to his left eye, pulls his eye lid back a bit, and unceremoniously pops out his prosthetic eye.

“All these processes and rituals actually have a lot of loopholes.”

Grian doesn’t know what face he’s making, but it’s enough to make Sausage giggle while he pops the eye back in. Because of course he does. Because this how his day is going, apparently. Walk through a weird portal in his basement and wake up in a world filled with his friends who don’t recognize him and also a guy he only ever saw There, who he was never supposed to see again. Sure. Of course he’s laughing about it. Grian thinks if he was a slightly different person, he’d be laughing too. It is, undeniably, absurd.

“Well, I think we’re done here then!” Grian would probably object if he weren’t so shocked about the loopholes. As it is, he just stands there a bit stupidly.

Sausage turns away to return to the party before turn around again for just a moment, reaching over, and ruffling Grian’s hair. That shocks him enough to shake him out of his stupor and swat Sausage’s hand away, though not before his hair is suitably messed up.

“What was that for?!”

Sausage smiles as he reaches up to rough up his own hair as well. “I assumed you didn’t want your friends asking questions about why you were dragging me into a dark corner, you know?” Sausage even goes far enough to pull his shirt a bit out of where it’s tucked into his pants, because of course he does. Grian tries not to cringe, but Sausage is right about this one thing. It is the easiest way to dodge any questions about where he’d gone off to- at the expense of the many knowing looks and teasing remarks he’ll be getting from the other Hermits instead.

“Have a good night, Grian!” Sausage calls over his shoulder as he turns to leave for real this time. “And remember, drinks are on me for all you guests tonight! You look like you need it.”

#empires smp #hermitcraft #grian #mythicalsausage #hermitfic #empiresfic #long post #my writing #….do i need to tag shipping on this #they’re not actually DOING anything. and i would say i’m not really going much further than sausage usually does #but like. idk man. if i wake up in the morning and decide i need to tag shipping i will #anyways. fics for an audience of like two people total #but that’s ok cause i like this SO MUCH #the first few sentences have been rotting in my tumblr drafts for like at least two months #and i finally kicked myself into gear to just finish it #and i had fun! i liked the way i used capitalization here to really wedge the difference between how these two think of the watchers #(and listeners)#grian doesn’t necessarily respect them but he does still see them as Other. and he’s maybe a little afraid #so all the important stuff gets capitalized #sausage doesn’t. he doesn’t respect them and he doesn’t fear them and they’re just a weird bureaucracy to him #so no capitalization!#also ten seconds after posting this i got a post on my dash #of sausage posting a screenshot of e’s tumblr post about him checking tumblr in their twitter replies #terrifying. hey king if you see this keep the bit up. i think it’s funny

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coffeeghoulie · 2 months

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Eternal Heatstroke

chapter 5: til the earth starts to crumble and the heavens roll away (i'm yours)

The last leg of the Re-Imperatour doesn't go quite as expected. But that's alright.

The incredible @ghuleh-recs drew art for this chapter, and I cannot believe I managed not to gush about it for four weeks. (well, I did tell one irl friend. but anyways) Thank you so much, Liss, it is amazing and I've been staring at it for weeks.

The band spends two sold-out nights in Los Angeles. Papa pulls the ghouls aside, a meeting hours before set-up for the first Ritual, gathering them into something like their pre-show huddle.

"I got word from the Clergy. These two are to be filmed," he informs them. "I want you at your best the next two nights. I know it is short notice, but I have faith in you. Perform your best, play it up. Make it look good for the cameras, sì?"

The ghouls all nod, grinning at one another.

Despite having come out of their shell, Aeon's still quiet when they want to be. They perform, play it up, soaking up the audiences' attention, but most of all, they watch.

Read the rest on ao3, or start from the beginning.

#i know #'dot did you seriously schedule posting this fic so the last chapter would come out on the anniversary of your first ghost fic?'#yeah #bite me i'm a sentimental bastard #the swiss/aeon finally comes to fruition #this is the longest fic i've ever finished #and i've spent the last two months obsessing over it #now to find something else to fill my time lmao #there might be some secret fire ghoul!swiss lore posted later if i finish it #the band ghost #swiss ghoul #dot's writing #aeon ghoul #eternal heatstroke #the band ghost fanfiction #swiss/aeon #phantom ghoul #swiss/phantom #nameless ghouls

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ohbo-ohno · 3 months

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i made the horrendous mistake of watching the start of an old rdr2 playthrough while taking a break from writing and it was possibly the worst decision i've ever made

#my mind is torn between western au and hockey au bc i can't stop thinking about sid crosby and nate mackinnon at the asg #(neither are what im writing for my exchange)#there are so many fics i want to read... but if i let myself pick them up before finishing this fic i will be proving my lack of selfcontro #ceil's ko-fi fic AND new chapter of the price fic????? i want them so BAD but i like actually just cannot let myself #i have good asks in my inbox but i canNOT let myself answer them #it took me soooo long to figure out what to do with this fic AND i have two abandoned drafts from when i first got my exchange person #so i've been stuck here for like. ever. with no progress made!!!!#((that's not true i've actually made a good amount of progress on this final draft but let me complain))#i am Not going to have time to edit as much as i usually like to btw so like. if it's a little rough around the edges NOBODY say smth #not that anyone would?? i've never gotten a bitchy “constructive criticism” comment but im terrified of them lmfao #welcome back to: venting in the tags #y'all im distractible and stressed

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cicadaknight · 9 months

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Finished binding volume 1 of Becoming Whole!

@pikapeppa thank you for being so lovely and sharing your writing with the world! (And for hyping me up and sending me pretty photomode screenshots)

#hfw #mine #my art #fan fic bookbinding #i think this took me… 4 months?#mostly because i’m a fool and i did the layout in indesign and had to resize it twice #and i wanted screenshots for filler pages and the end of chapters so i had to find and edit all of those #and i decided to draw illustrations for each chapter heading #and then i went wild in the author's note section with qr codes for links and art credits #i bound the textblock/glued it/made a cover but i put off finishing it because if i fucked up the final steps i’d have to redo everything #and also i was scared the end papers were too fragile and the whole book was gonna fall apart so i just let it sit for a month on my desk #but it’s in my makeshift press overnight to make sure the glue sticks properly and then it will be readable!!!#I MADE THIS WITH MY OWN TWO HANDS #AND NOW I GET TO READ ONE OF MY FAVORITE FICS FOREVER #at least the first 17 chapters #3 more volumes to go #plus another set for pikapeppaaaa :)))))))))))))#excuse the goofy pics and glue all over my desk

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thaliagrayce · 2 months

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Contrasting Colors

Link: ao3 Pairing: Jason Grace/Nico di Angelo Fandom: Percy Jackson & the Olympians Tags: post-Heroes of Olympus, Not TOA compliant, fluff, jealousy (but like only a little bit)

Word Count: 2,998

Summary:

There was a stranger on the subway who had been staring at them on and off since they had boarded the train. That wasn’t too unusual, but it was rubbing Nico the wrong way today. He shifted from one foot to the other as their car passed from the light of the last station into the darkness of the tunnel system once more. Maybe it was the fact that the stranger was a boy who looked just a little older than him. And taller. Broader, too, although he was almost certainly less experienced at actually using the muscle filling out his expensive name-brand athlesiure. He’d been looking between Nico and Jason since they left the shopping center they’d spent the afternoon at, but mostly he’d been looking at Jason. (or; Nico and Jason's journey to self-expression and belonging through really dumb shirts.)

There was a stranger on the subway who had been staring at them on and off since they had boarded the train. That wasn’t too unusual—Nico and Jason had both lived as demigods for long enough that a little staring wasn’t going to ruin their day unless it came with violence—but it was rubbing Nico the wrong way today. He shifted from one foot to the other as their car passed from the light of the last station into the darkness of the tunnel system once more.

Maybe it was the fact that the stranger was a boy who looked just a little older than him. And taller. Broader, too, although he was almost certainly less experienced at actually using the muscle filling out his expensive name-brand athlesiure. He’d been looking between Nico and Jason since they left the shopping center they’d spent the afternoon at, but mostly he’d been looking at Jason.

Nico shifted again, hyperaware of the space between them. Were they standing close enough? Was it too close? They had walked onto the subway car together, but it would be plausible that they just happened to be standing next to each other while they were waiting for the train. The platform had been crowded, it could have looked like coincidence.

Nico knew that he and Jason didn’t look like a matched set. There was about a foot’s difference in height when they were both standing straight, and Nico almost always made it worse by slouching. Their resting expressions were completely different now that Jason’s updated prescription let him see clearly without squinting at the world. And, most noticeable, there was the difference in style: Nico was comfortable in his all black, and Jason was wearing one of the colorful and dorky t-shirts he’d bought on this trip.

(“Look, Nico!” he had said after dragging them both into a store that was about 50% anime merchandise. “It’s me!” He held up the shirt for Nico to see: a pale blue t-shirt with a white cloud-shaped breast pocket. The cloud had a cutesy blushing smiley face on it. Nico raised one eyebrow in question, and Jason pulled the pocket open. The fabric underneath the cloud was printed with a rainbow. It was a terrible joke, and Nico had laughed anyway.)

Nico glanced at the shirt—which Jason liked so much he’d found a bathroom and changed into it as soon as they left the store—out of the corner of his eye. The white of the little cloud almost glowed in the terrible subway lighting. It was so bright, and Jason looked tall and handsome and at ease, and that boy across the train car was looking at him and Nico kept noticing.

Nico brought his right hand up and fidgeted with the blue bandanna he’d bought and tied around his neck on an impulse as they were leaving the mall. The train slowed down to approach another stop and Nico braced himself not to stumble. He wasn’t used to wearing anything around his neck, but it wasn’t terrible. He could maybe do it more often.

On his left, Jason brushed his knuckles against Nico’s in a signal they had developed early on in their relationship, when they figured out that their comfort levels with PDA were decidedly different. I would hold your hand right now if you wanted me to, it said. Nico turned to give him a smile.

Jason was looking down at him, head tilted in a way that reminded Nico that he’d technically been raised by wolves. There was some concern in between his brows. He was completely focused on Nico. It was possible that he hadn’t even noticed the boy across the way, or that he’d dismissed him as mortal as quickly as Nico had and then not thought about him again.

Nico knew that, if he wanted, he could take Jason’s hand right now and prove to all the random strangers in this train car that they were a matched set. He could tell the boy that might or might not have been checking Jason out to fuck off without even opening his mouth. A tiny, possessive part of him wanted to.

Instead, he took a deep breath in and brushed his knuckles back. They both heard the thank you, I love you that implied. The taste of jealousy was bitter and Nico didn’t want to let it linger. He let the breath out.

---

This whole endeavor had started about two months ago, just after they started dating. Nico had been accompanying Jason on a lot of his Pontifex Maximus duties, meeting up with minor gods and drafting temples across the country. Nico’s shadow travel got them places on time and Jason’s flight got them back to where they were staying when Nico got too tired to jump again.

That particular day had been a bit rough. Nico had jumped the both of them halfway across the country to Nowhere, Iowa and was already exhausted when a hydra melted out of the cornfield next to them. Nico was no help in the ensuing fight.

Jason didn’t really need the help, though. He managed to kill it on his own in under ten minutes while Nico slumped against a nearby bale of hay, sleepily cheering him on.

Unfortunately, killing the hydra was not a neat process, and it managed to get him a few times with its acid spit. They worked together and managed to do a halfway decent job of burying the final head underneath Nico’s hay bale before Jason realized that half of his shirt had melted off during the fight.

He had only packed pajamas.

They managed to find Jason a new (ish) plain shirt at the one Goodwill in town quickly, but Jason seemed reluctant to leave. He kept looking back at one of the clothing racks they had passed by, even after they paid and were heading out of the store. Nico gave in to his curiosity.

“What was it?”

“Huh?” Jason asked. He tore his eyes away from the rack one last time and pulled the door open, holding it to let Nico pass first.

“You keep looking back. What caught your eye?”

“Oh, I…” Jason smiled. They headed off toward their motel at a decent clip; they didn’t have a whole lot of time to check in, have Jason change, and leave again to get to their meeting with the eccentric minor agricultural god. “It was nothing. There was a shirt that made me smile.”

“Oh?” Nico prompted.

“Yeah. It was kind of goofy, y’know. Jelly bean print.”

Nico huffed a laugh. “I can picture you in that.”

“Really?”

Nico raised an eyebrow. He had planned to tease Jason, but the hopeful look on his boyfriend’s face stopped him. Raised eyebrows and a hint of a smile and that light in his eyes were all because of a jelly bean shirt?

“Sure,” Nico settled on instead. “Why not? Goofy print for a goofy guy.”

It was evidently the right answer. Jason’s smile grew as they walked into the motel, checked in, and shuffled off to their room. Nico sat on one of the twin beds with his chin in his hands as Jason took over the bathroom to change.

Technically, Nico wasn’t needed here at all. He usually tagged along to these meetings to have something to do, but he knew that if he even hinted he might be feeling tired…

When Jason got out of the bathroom, Nico was lying face down on the bed. Jason fretted and fussed and insisted that Nico stay behind to take a nap, as Nico knew he would. As soon as he left, Nico got up and put his boots back on. The meeting probably wouldn’t take more than half an hour and he wanted to be sneaky, so he had to be fast.

Besides, if he was quick enough, maybe he really could take a nap after he got back from the thrift store.

---

The Jelly Bean Shirt was the most obnoxious shirt in the entire world and Jason loved it. It was a short sleeved button down that was just a touch too small across the shoulders for Jason, which meant that he often wore it open over a different shirt.

The only other shirts Jason owned were either bright purple, bright orange, or the solid green shirt they’d bought for the meeting. Jason very quickly became the easiest person to spot at camp. Leo and Piper teased him about it, but he took it with a smile and continued wearing the shirt.

The next time they left camp for Pontifex business, Jason asked if they could go shopping again afterward.

“I know it’s not really necessary,” he said, sheepish, “but it’s kind of nice. I’ve never really picked out my own clothes before.”

Nico stopped in the middle of rifling through racks of secondhand sweatshirts. Had… had he ever seen Jason in anything but camp shirts? He really tried to think. The t-shirt for the meeting last time didn’t count, it was just the closest functional replacement clothing for the job. They’d picked it out specifically to be unobtrusive. And then there was…

Nope, then there was the Jelly Bean Shirt and nothing else. Jason had been raised by the Legion and dumped into Camp Half Blood and he’d never had the chance to be anything but a representative of those two places, or of his father, or of the minor gods.

Nico might have dressed himself like a walking Hot Topic advertisement, but he chose to do that. He’d been choosing how to dress himself since he was ten. He looked at Jason’s sheepish expression out of the corner of his eye.

“You’re dating the son of the god of wealth. Why are we looking in Goodwill?”

“Target doesn’t have this kind of selection,” Jason answered.

“I can afford Armani, why would we go to Target.”

Jason eyed a sweater that might have been handmade, complete with giant pink applique teddy bear on the belly. He held it up to his chest and wilted when he noticed it was about three sizes too small for him.

“Armani would look too… business. Probably.” Jason put the sweater back and moved on to a more summery section. “I don’t know anything about fashion, but big labels like that sound way too fancy.”

“Right, you prefer designers who are more in touch with their inner six-year-old girl.”

Jason shrugged. “It makes me more approachable, doesn’t it? I’m not the Son of Jupiter, ex-Praetor of the Twelfth Legion, Titan Slayer, Champion of Juno, Hero of Olympus, Pontifex Maximus like that. I’m that guy with the unicorn shirt.” He then pulled out a t-shirt that had pom-poms dangling from every hem. “Is this too much?”

Jason held the stupidest shirt Nico had ever seen in his life up to his chest and Nico realized he might be in love with him. He bought the shirt.

---

And he’d kept taking Jason out, on dates and on trips to make his wardrobe feel like him, and that’s what landed them on the subway that morning. They’d gotten as far as they could on public transport, then clasped hands and slipped into the shadows.

“What’s with the scarf?” Jason tugged at the bottom of the bandanna once they settled into the familiar comfort of Cabin 13. Nico untied it to let Jason take a closer look, and to get the fabric off of his neck. It was, other than Jason himself, the brightest spot in the room. That felt like a pretty apt metaphor.

Gods, Nico didn’t want to admit it. He was working on being able to talk about his feelings, but it still sucked every time.

Jason never made fun of him, though. Nico took comfort in that fact as he staunchly refused to make eye contact, instead focusing on taking out and folding the new black skinny jeans he’d gotten to replace his old black skinny jeans. (He’d been wearing the old ones last time he attempted the climbing wall. It hadn’t gone well.)

“You like color.” It wasn’t a real explanation, he knew, but it was all that would come out at the moment. Nico smoothed away a few more wrinkles in the jeans.

“I like the way you dress, too, though. You look really good in black.”

Nico hid his reddening face behind his hair as he shoved the meticulously folded jeans into the drawer with the rest of his balled-up pants. He knew that. Jason, once he realized that it wouldn’t scare Nico away, was not shy with compliments. Nico knew very well how much Jason liked the way he looked. It was a lot sometimes, but it was… nice. It was really nice.

“I. Thanks.” Nico took in a breath and shut the dresser drawer, then stood up and let it out. He could do this. He turned toward Jason, who was still holding the bandanna. It almost blended in with the light blue of Jason’s new shirt. They weren’t exactly the same shade, but they were close enough to suit Nico’s purposes.

“We look really different. And that’s okay, I’m happy that you’re finding clothes that you like. But we don’t…” Nico walked over and took the bandanna from Jason’s hands to better demonstrate his point. “We look really different,” he ended up repeating. “And I just wanted.” It was suddenly hard to form words around the lump in his throat. When had that gotten there? This wasn’t a big deal, what was he even upset about?

“Can I hold your hand?”

Nico looked up. Jason had a hand extended to him and obvious concern furrowing his brow. Nico stepped past the hand and fitted his body against Jason’s instead. Without other people around, he didn’t have to worry about spite or jealousy or whatever motivating him. Everything was a lot simpler when it was just the two of them. Nico could take what comfort he wanted.

Jason wrapped his arms around Nico, just like he knew he would.

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Nico mumbled into the blushy cloud on Jason’s shirt. It still smelled like the mall.

“The scarf looked nice on you, but you don’t need to wear color to be beautiful.”

Nico groaned and buried his face in his boyfriend’s chest. “I know.” He was starting to feel stupid for his insecurity. Jason didn’t act like this for anyone else, why would a few stares bother him? The arms around him tightened.

“Besides, I think we look cute together like this.”

Nico looked up at him without bothering to step back at all. His chin was probably digging into Jason’s sternum, but that was Jason’s fault for being so tall. Jason looked down to meet his eyes and smiled.

(Nico was never, ever going to tell him how funny he looked from this angle.)

“Mismatching is cute, Piper keeps telling me that. It’s cute to wear mismatched socks. I think we’re cute together.”

Nico snorted. “I saw Piper’s bunk on the Argo II, I think she just can’t find matching socks.”

Jason pulled a face. “You might have a point. But Piper had one, too. A little variety and a little difference is good.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Nico’s hairline. “I think we look perfect together.”

“Sap.” The hug and the conversation and the visual angle all made Nico feel a lot better. Or maybe it was just being around Jason, honestly. Having honest conversations.

Maybe talking about his feelings wasn’t the worst.

The next day, the two of them had plans to head to New Rome to visit friends and work on Pontifex business. They were supposed to meet up at Thalia’s tree after breakfast and packing.

As usual, Jason was already waiting when Nico climbed up the hill. He smiled at Nico and extended a hand for him to take.

He was wearing one of the shirts they’d found yesterday—a pink button down with little dinosaurs printed all over it—under a denim jacket that had probably started its life black, but had faded into a dark grey over the years.

That was new. As in, that was new since yesterday afternoon. Nico would have remembered a jacket like that. He took Jason’s hand, but didn’t stop staring at the jacket.

“Where’d you get that?”

“Huh?” Jason brought his other hand up to fiddle with one of the buttons on the jacket, and Nico noticed that his nails had been messily painted black.

It looked… He looked…

“Oh! The jacket.” Jason laughed and it sounded a little nervous. “It’s Piper’s, actually, but she said I could have it. It was too big for her anyway, she was just planning on cutting it up for one of her projects. Said I’d get more use out of it.”

Nico stepped forward and ran his free hand over the denim. He didn’t comment on Jason’s obvious nerves.

“I like it,” he said. “You look good.”

Jason’s shoulders relaxed and he gave Nico a little grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Do you like it?” he asked. This effort alone was enough to squash like, half of Nico’s insecurities, but this wouldn’t do any good if he were limiting Jason’s self-expression just like the Camps did.

“I do. It makes me feel more connected to someone pretty important to me.”

“Good.” Nico smiled at him. “I’m gonna steal it so often.”

“Hey! That defeats the purpose!”

Nico’s hand wandered to the jacket’s collar and he tugged on it, urging Jason downward. “Hmm,” he hummed into a kiss. “I’ll give it back sometimes. Don’t worry.”

Jason was smiling like a dope. He wound his free arm around Nico’s waist.

“That’s okay, then. We can share.”

Nico liked the sound of that. He kissed Jason one last time and tugged him into the shadows.

#jasicobingochallenge2024 #prompt: color matching #fanfiction #jasico #thunderworld #that ship name just tickles me. it's delightful! i love a good portmanteau!#my writing #mj talks #and i am finally starting to post my bingo prompts #i think i'm gonna get a bingo! despite the fact that this is the first one i'm putting out into the world!#i have another one completely finished and two more that are far enough along to give me hope #and they're all in a row baybee. diagonal straight through the middle using a free space.#it kinda feels like cheating to use the free space but like. with a full time job and an active social life and adhd we take the wins we ca #I FORGOT TO ADD THE FUCKING. TEXT. THE FIC. I MEANT TO ADD A LINK AND THEN THE FIC ITSELF.#whoops lol

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