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slothquisitor · 8 months

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There for the Taking

In which Liv has a crisis, and Astarion is kind of mean. Or what if your good character was just a tiny bit tempted by Astarion's suggestion you take over the cult? Thanks to TheWyvernRising (on AO3) for letting me borrow Rowan and also naming the fic. Titles are hard. Liv x Astarion, 4.6k, just angst.

Also on AO3.

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Blights and shambling mounds sharp as razors leap from the darkness. Here the shadows cut and slice. Despite her hypervigilance in this place, Liv is surprised all the same. She lobs a bolt of fire at the nearest blight, hoping that they might be vulnerable to fire damage. It explodes into flames and needles, and she feels as if she’s being stung by a hundred bees at once on every exposed bit of skin.

Astarion has used the distraction to try and get close, stepping around the back side of the shambling mound. He gets in two quick dagger strikes before the mound’s long, vine-like branches snap his way. The tendrils twist around his feet, pulling him down to the ground where the mound rips into him.

His name catches in her throat as she uselessly screams his name. It had been a bad idea to come up this path. It had been her decision, and she had walked them right into an ambush. They’re looking for a house Halsin had seen, apparently surrounded by wildflowers in this bleak and desolate place. It might well be the key to breaking the curse on this land, but right now, she’s not sure why they’re bothering when everything here wants to kill them.

And Astarion hasn’t moved. His pale skin is marred with gashes and scrapes, and he isn’t fucking moving.

Karlach is trying to get to the mound while contending with two smaller blights, and Shadowheart is slowly making her way toward Astarion’s still unmoving form. Liv hurls another spell at the mound, determined to give Shadowheart a clear path. Liv had been trying to conserve her magic, but the fight is looking far more dire than she’s comfortable with. She isn’t about to lose any of her friends to fucking trees .

She conjures a tiny mote of flame that snakes into the backfield and then explodes into a fireball. The outward in a burst of heat very nearly engulfs Karlach, her great axe slicing and splintering through a blight. A few more strategically fired scorching rays and swings from Karlach’s unrelenting axe, and the last of the cursed trees fall. Liv is breathing hard, her magic sputtering. Despite her best efforts to stay out of the fray, her arms and face are covered in small cuts from exploding needles, they sting as her sweat runs into them.

Shadowheart’s spiritual guardians dissipate, leaving them in darkness once more. She’s kneeling at Astarion’s side, and Liv realizes with a certain degree of horror that his injuries are much worse than she thought. And it hurts .

She knows what this is. What they are. She doesn’t get to cry out his name when collapses. She doesn’t get to have her heart squeezed vice-like while she watches Shadowheart’s healing magic pour into him. That’s not what this is.

Shadowheart swears as a healing spell does nothing, and then looks up at Liv. “I need a scroll!”

Liv digs into her bag, drawing out one of their precious scrolls of revivify. They’ve only had to use these twice. Once when Lae’zel was knocked into a chasm by a minotaur in the Underdark, and another on Wyll after a thunder arrow knocked him into the lava of the Grymforge. They’re lucky to even have these scrolls, to have options to avoid the finality of death. But it doesn’t help her feel any less panic as she hands the scroll over with shaking hands.

This sort of magic isn’t her forte. She can craft a fireball, mimic lightning, and throw up shields to protect herself, but she has no spells for moments like this. She cannot heal or ease anyone’s pain. She’s barely been able to craft them healing potions. All of her magic…her studying…what is it for if she can’t truly help people?

A moment later, filled with a burst of divine magic, Astarion’s eyes open. He’s alive. Well, as alive as he was before anyway. And the tightness that had settled in Liv’s chest loosens. She’s more than simply relieved; she’s grateful. She wants to yell at him about being too close to enemies, at his infuriating cockiness, and she wants to pull him into a hug, make sure that he is in fact alright.

She doesn’t do any of that.

“That nearly ended me,” he says quietly. He’s inches from death’s door, his skin a collection of bruises and cuts, but he’s fine. He’ll be fine.

“Only nearly,” Shadowheart replies with a small smile of triumph.

They’re all looking a little worse for wear, and one glance up the path tells Liv that this is a dead end anyway. “This is certainly not the right way. Do we need to go back to Last Light?” Liv asks.

“And risk another ambush?” Karlach asks, eyes darting about the darkness.

“We should take an hour here, at the very least,” Shadowheart says, hands still hovering over Astarion’s wounds. Her magic glows a bright blue and the worst of his wounds stitch together.

She doesn’t love the idea of waiting around here in the darkness or something else to find them, but Karlach has a point. They can at least light some torches and keep the worst shadows at bay for now. Around them there is nothing but the crumbled remains of what was once a tower, perhaps it was a lookout on this ruined battlefield. “Alright then, let’s take an hour.”

She busies herself setting up a perimeter of torches, but it’s not quite distracting her from the image of Astarion crumpled on the ground, all life gone from his eyes. It’s startling how precarious all of this feels, and how much she cares . There are many things from her past life she has tried to leave behind, but caring for those who wouldn’t give a second thought to her doesn’t seem to be one of them. It’s stupid, really. She’s at least ten years too old for this sort of behavior and far too clever for it besides. She knew what Astarion was when she met him in that clearing and she knew what he was offering. Looking for more is simply an exercise in heartbreak.

And yet. Her foolish fucking heart wants anyway.

She sits down against the base of the tower, as far away from Astarion and Shadowheart as she can manage and still be within the safety of the torchlight. She pulls out her spellbook and begins looking for anything she might have learned that she can prepare, something that might be more fucking useful.

It surprises her when Astarion shuffles over, cradling a health potion and still battered and bruised despite Shadowheart’s healing. She curses her stupid heart for racing when he sits down heavily beside her.

“Well, I think I might have argued to stay in camp today if I’d known the trees were going to attack us,” he says. “Really, what is it with this godsforsaken place? It’s downright awful.”

“Really makes you miss dirty goblin camps, doesn’t it?”

“Shockingly, yes,” he replies, flashing her a slight grin before downing the healing potion with a grimace.

And then he tips his head back, eyes falling closed as he tries to rest. She lets her gaze linger on him a moment longer, convincing herself that he is in fact safe. Then, she turns her attention back to her spellbook and tells herself that his presence beside her means nothing. Right?

***

Shadowheart’s healing magic had done good enough work in bringing Astarion back from death’s door, but there was something vaguely disquietening about having been dead. It’s a different sort of death than what he experienced when Cazador turned him. Still hurt like the hells though. He feels a disconcerting distance between himself and his own limbs as if he hasn’t quite settled back within his body. In some ways it’s kind of pleasant, to be floating above his body instead of trapped within it. It’s easier to pretend he’s somewhere else.

And he does, for a while. Though Liv’s shifting and the quiet sound of her turning the pages of her spellbook occasionally pull him back. But even that is kind of nice. It’s…easy to be with Liv. It’s not like that with their other companions. Karlach and Gale make him tired. Wyll and Shadowheart are fun to trade words with, but even they feel like work. Lae’zel and Liv seem to be the only members of their little group who seem to value a comfortable silence. And Liv seems to always sense when he doesn’t want to talk, seems content to just be.

Liv had looked…bothered when he’d come to. Her expression was schooled into something cool and impassive, but her eyes…her eyes were filled with worry. He thought for a moment she might fuss over him, express some outward concern for his safety the same way he’s sure she’d yelled his name when he fell, but instead, she’d simply stepped away. It had seemed almost forced. Even after tendays of traveling together, he’s not sure what’s going on in her head half the time.

So perhaps that is why he presses forward, headlong into a conversation that might be best left alone. “So…Moonrise towers approaches…”

“Assuming we ever actually make it there, yes,” Liv replies, not looking up from her spellbook.

“You know…I feel a connection with you. Like we’re two souls walking the same path,” he says. That gets her attention, gets her to look up from her spellbook. There’s something that looks perilously close to hope in her eyes. Something about it bothers him and he almost abandons the whole conversation. But there’s no time like the present, and he needs to know what it is she plans to do. “You might be a little naive in the ways of the world, but I see promise in you. Ambition .”

She frowns and whatever had brightened her eyes dims. “What do you mean naive?”

He needs to be careful with this. Guide her to the conclusion he’s come to. Gently. “Just that you…have a big heart. You like doing what’s right. So I was thinking, what would be the right thing to do when we get to Moonrise Towers? When we come face to face with whoever is controlling the parasites in our heads.”

Her brow furrows. “The right thing to do would be destroy the cult and end its evil forever.”

Ugh. Really? She’s unwilling to let go of this ridiculous hero streak of hers. He rolls his eyes. “Gods. No…try to think outside the box. Just a little.” She’s clever, he’s begging her to consider the implications. “Consider the parasites in our skulls and think - how many others have the mind flayers infected? Hundreds? Thousands? And they’re not just goblin trash - there are powerful people in the worms’ thrall. And whoever’s waiting at Moonrise Towers controls it all. But if we can take that control from them, imagine the power we’d wield.”

“The power we’d wield? Are you…you’re being serious,” Liv says, words slowly rising in pitch. “What is it about me exactly that would lead you to believe I’d have any interest in that kind of power?”

She sounds almost hurt, offended, even. It surprises him, but he doesn’t stop pushing. If only to see just how far he can before her careful control breaks. “So much for hoping you had ambition. I’m just saying there’s an opportunity here. If we can control the tadpoles, we can keep ourselves safe and liberate the world from this evil.”

“By making people our slaves? I thought you of all people would see the problem inherent in that.”

Anger flares in him, bright and fast and razor sharp. She doesn’t know anything . She’s never had to experience what it’s like to be powerless, to have no control over your own fate. If there is power on offer, and if there is a way for him to gain an advantage over Cazador he will fucking take it. “So much for thinking you had ambition. Isn’t that supposed to be the hubris of wizards? How utterly wasteful.”

She closes her spellbook with a snap, leaning far away from him. “This is clearly going to be surprising to you, but I don’t want power. Certainly not that kind.” Then she stands and brushes the dirt from her robes.

“You don’t have to be so wet around the ears about it,” he laments. He knows that he’s hurting her feelings and probably jeopardizing whatever this thing between them is that he had fought so hard for, but he can’t seem to stop. He's always doing this, pushing her and watching for the point where her patience, her unyielding kindness finally breaks because he doesn't seem to know what else to do with these things she offers him.

She stares at him for a moment and shakes her head. “You know, saving you from Cazador and liberating everyone with a worm in their head aren’t mutually exclusive.” And then she walks away without another word.

He’s sure she believes what she’s saying. She’s fundamentally honest. Even when she’s convincing cultists that their group is friendly or persuading mad doctors to let their nurses slice them to ribbons, she’s not a liar…so he’s not sure why her comment gives him little comfort. The tadpole is the thing that’s set him free. It’s given him back his life and given him the advantage over Cazador. He’s no longer compelled, controlled, chained. And even after everything he’s told her, she would strip that protection away, make him a slave to Cazador’s whims once more.

He doesn’t know how to tell her that her world is different from his. That cruelty has ruled his life for longer than she’s been alive. He knows what survival really takes.

She wants to help him. He knows that; he can sense it whenever he tells her about his life under Cazador’s thumb. But she doesn’t understand the power, the absolute control because she is too damn afraid of taking it herself. But what he can’t fathom is why….she grew up with power, in power. And yet…she seems so damn afraid of it. Their dream visitor offered her power too, and she absolutely refused it. Even Gale had at least been willing to hear their guardian out.

He’s going to have to apologize for this whole conversation later when she’s not so upset and he can be convincingly contrite. A part of him rankles at the thought, at the memories it stirs up. But he’d had a plan, it wouldn’t do to ruin it all now.

***

It’s late in Last Light, but Liv can’t stand to be in camp tonight. So instead, she sits at the bar by the fire, nursing a glass of…something. She’s not really sure what it is, the label was too faded to read, but it smells strong and tastes just sweet enough that she welcomes the burn with each sip. She’s not alone in the downstairs of the inn, though the other folks here are just as solitary as she is this evening.

Almost everyone left in the bar area is mourning in some way, Harpers who lost friends on the road. Tieflings who were separated from friends and kin. Flaming Fist who feel they failed their Duke.

Liv feels like an interloper. She’s not mourning anything except perhaps the future heartbreak that’s sure to crush her sooner rather than later. She can’t shake the conversation she had with Astarion earlier today. Would he take that sort of power for himself? Does he think she would? Is that what he really thinks of her?

She’s been accused of being many things she doesn’t find particularly accurate over the years. Some have found her cold, too impassive, too unmoved by things. Others still have told her she is too passionate, too set in her ways and her belief in right and wrong. She’s not sure if the truth lies somewhere in the middle. Most days the only thing she feels she has in excess are feelings. She feels too much and too deeply, and simply ends up hurting too much of the time.

She wishes that she didn’t want Astarion to be the person who knows her best. Especially when he’s so wrong about her, but then…there had been a moment. A small, small part of her was tempted. Just for a moment. It made her sick.

Perhaps he did know her well enough to know she’d be tempted. Well enough to echo words she’s heard before: a lack of ambition, a bad wizard, what a waste. Fuck.

“Mind if I join you?” asks a soft voice at her side, and Liv is startled from the downward spiral of her thoughts.

Liv recognizes the elven woman, Rowan. She’d been injured badly when the inn was attacked, and while she’s not a Harper, it’s clear Jaheira trusts her. She doesn’t really want company, but perhaps it can’t be worse than whatever one wizard pity party she’s been having for gods know how long. She summons a smile she doesn’t particularly feel. “Not at all.”

Rowan sits beside her, her long red hair falling like a curtain between them. She tucks it behind her ear and sighs. “You’re looking a little too long-faced to be the long-awaited hero here to save the day.”

Liv liked being the hero back in the Grove…before she realized how heavy the weight of expectation could land on one’s shoulders. Hope shone in the eyes of the tieflings from the Grove when she and her companions arrived here to Last Light, and she couldn’t help but meet that hope with promises and reassurances she’s not sure she can make good on. Even when she tempers expectations by promising nothing more than to look for friends and kin…it still feels dishonest.

“Isobel is the real hero here. We couldn’t make it more than a few miles down the road today before being ambushed by shadow-cursed trees,” she says. She doesn’t mean for the words to twist bitterly in her mouth as she speaks, but they do anyway.

Rowan watches her, amethyst eyes sharp. She doesn’t say anything for a long while. “Are you alright?”

This is the one question that goes unasked amongst her companions. It’s been avoided for tendays now, ever since it became clear that they’re no longer in immediate danger of turning into mind flayers. The answer itself is fairly obvious for them all, who would be alright under these circumstances? And Liv is tempted to force a smile, to be a good little Vires.

“No,” she whispers. There’s something freeing in the admission, given to this stranger. She doesn’t want to interrogate why it is so much easier to admit this to someone she hardly knows instead of her friends. Her eyes burn so she takes another sip of her drink, keeping her gaze focused on the far wall.

She has a tadpole in her head and everyone wants her to save the day, and she is falling in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same. She and her friends are flung into danger every day and today she has nothing to show for it, but scrapes and bruises and new nightmares to haunt her. Halsin keeps looking at her like she can help him break the curse on this fucking land…and the heroes in the books she’s read never mentioned the fucking anxiety that comes with all these people relying upon them. She’s not cut out for this.

After all, Astarion had looked at her and said to himself that she’d want power, no matter the cost…and is there something buried in her soul by her fucking family that she can’t smother no matter what how she tries? Sometimes her last name feels like a stain she can’t wash out.

“Oh shit,” Rowan says, offering her a handkerchief and pouring more of whatever she’s drinking into her glass. “I was really trying to help, not make things markedly worse.”

It’s then that Liv realizes she’s crying, tears streaming down her cheeks. It takes some effort, but she manages to slow her breathing down and get a hold of herself. Gods, she can’t remember the last time she cried, much less in front of someone else. “You’re very kind…I am so sorry. It’s just been…a bad day.”

Rowan nods, looking at her with concern. “Just…slow down. It’s alright.”

It’s not, but Liv is grateful for the assurance anyway. She can sit here and have a drink with a stranger and be perfectly normal. She’s sure of it. She takes a sip of her drink and nods. “You’re looking better than when I last saw you,” she attempts.

Rowan snorts softly. “You mean when my insides were practically falling out of me?”

“Yeah…sorry.”

“Just lucky there are plenty of good and willing healers around,” Rowan says, and Liv doesn’t miss the way her gaze wanders to the door where Halsin sits vigil over the man who had somehow survived the Shadowfell.

Isobel and Halsin and Shadowheart have magic that is actually useful; magic that actually helps people. “Very lucky,” she agrees.

“You know, at the risk of providing unsolicited advice…I often find that things look better in the morning. Nothing drains the hope out of a situation like being tired.”

Liv nods. “You’re right.” She’s unlikely to find any answers at the bottom of this glass anyway.

“For what it’s worth, you’ve already done a lot for the people here. Don’t let whatever defeat found you today keep you down.”

Liv pushes up from the bar, her limbs heavy with exhaustion. “Thank you for the company.”

Rowan offers a smile. “Any time.”

She wishes she had something more to offer than thanks. She worries over the interaction all the way back to her tent, as if admitting she’s not okay has opened up something, some vulnerability that everyone else will be able to see. It’s an old fear…and not very generous in the face of the kindness she received tonight.

Their little encampment next to the inn is quiet, the fire has already burned down to the embers. She doesn’t want to see Astarion, but some part of her can’t resist glancing at his tent anyway. He’s not there. Which is just as well. She’s not sure what she’d say to him anyway.

She glances up at the bright moon, at the shield Isobel keeps around this place, and tries to tell herself that all the hopes she carries aren’t misplaced.

***

Astarion has spent a tedious hour hunting around Last Light for any creatures he can drink from. He’d managed to find a few small animals, and he tries to remind himself that he’s survived on far less and far worse, but it’s hard to remember because he’s hungry now . Besides, animal blood doesn’t hit quite the same now he’s had the blood of thinking creatures.

But they’ve spent their days fighting shadows and trees and shadow-cursed zombies, and so he’s had to make due in other ways. He could ask Liv for blood; she’s been willing enough in the past, but there’s something about the fact they’ve slept together that changes everything about asking for her blood. He seduced her for safety, for security, asking for her blood in addition to that feels like taking far too much.

He takes and he takes and he takes. Beyond the sketch she drew of him, he’s never taken anything from her that wasn’t already offered. And he’s not sure when it began to bother him, but it happened sometime between figuring out that the sadness in her eyes only truly disappears when she has something to offer someone and realizing that she never asks for a damn thing. He is well-versed enough in starvation to recognize it in another, but he can’t figure out what she could possibly be lacking.

He sees her coming down from the inn towards their encampment. She’s pulling her long hair loose from the tight bun she keeps it in most days. She’s almost to her tent when he intercepts her, falling into step beside her. She jumps when she notices his presence.

“Gods, don’t do that,” she says. “Where in the hells did you come from?”

“I was simply walking back to my tent. I can’t help that you’re unobservant.” He wants her to ask him where he’s been, so he can tell her about his less-than-successful hunt. Perhaps if she offers her blood it will feel less like taking.

But she doesn’t.

“Well, good night then,” she says without looking at him. He can smell the alcohol on her. She drinks little, so it is more than a little surprising. Warning bells are going off in his head. Something is wrong…off. Suddenly, this thing between them feels tremulous and fragile.

“Are you upset with me?” he asks. Genuinely curious. She doesn’t seem the type to hold a grudge, but he’s been wrong about her before.

She looks back at him, brow furrowed. “No, Astarion. I’m not upset with you.” The words are brittle things, but they don’t ring false.

“A pity. I’ve been told I’m quite good at apologies,” pitching his voice down, filling it with dark promises. The sentiment isn’t true. He’s been told he’s good at groveling, and that’s not the same thing. But it’s a half-truth; it’s the only thing he seems to have to offer her.

She’s feeling distant, and something about that makes him want to grasp tighter to whatever this thing is he’s orchestrated between them. As if he could wrench back the simplicity, the surety he felt when he invited her to join him after the tiefling party.

“I’m tired,” she says. It’s the truest thing she’s said so far, and it feels suddenly the most dangerous.

She doesn’t want him. It’s the most freeing thing in the world, there’s a certain relief at her refusal, and yet some part of him is disappointed.

He doesn’t show it; instead, he smiles. “Well then, goodnight, my dear.”

She disappears into her tent without so much as a glance behind, and he is the one left there standing in the darkness, wondering what it was she actually needed this evening and why he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

He had intended to twine himself so inextricably to her that the safety, the brightness, and the implicit trust she is afforded would fall easily on him too. And it has. The hope and expectations she was loaded up with the second she appeared at Last Light have followed him too. But it hasn’t filled up whatever lives inside him, whatever empty void is left of his heart.

He’s startingly glad she turned down his company and simultaneously worried that he’s lost the only skill he’s ever had. He likes being in her presence, likes talking with her. She has an ability to listen when others talk in a way that makes him feel seen and heard. Who wouldn’t want her undivided attention when it feels like that?

And that’s all this is, isn’t it? An enjoyment of her attention. Nothing more. He tells himself that she’s getting just as much out of their little arrangement as he is, but even as he thinks it he’s not sure it’s true.

Perhaps whatever has gone wrong today is simply a byproduct of their surroundings, of the general disquiet in this place. Perhaps tomorrow will be different, better. Perhaps she will keep offering him beautiful, impossible moments of comfort…and he will keep taking them. And perhaps it won’t bother him.

#astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate fanfiction #astarion x liv #bright lost things #slothquisitorwrites

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sanguinarysanguinity · 9 months

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Tagged by @verecunda, thank you! I've lost track of who has been tagged, so please jump in if you'd like to play!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

176, give or take a few that are in currently anonymous collections.

2. What's your total AO3 wordcount?

737,590

3. What fandoms do you write for?

My current main fandoms are the Hornblower novels and The Flight of the Heron. But I also write one-offs as please me, either for exchange assignments or pinch-hits, or because I got bit by a plot bunny. (Yes, plot-bunnies are carnivorous!) This year, I've written for Hornblower (novels and TV), The Flight of the Heron, Vokosigan Saga, Elementary, ACD Holmes, Leverage, A Rip Through Time, and Wild Things (1998).

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Sincerity of Dust (Mycroft/Lestrade - Sherlock TV) Etta Candy's Last Stand (Etta Candy/Wonder Woman) Three Continents and Many Nations (Elementary gen; Joan Watson has broken hearts around the world) Baker Street Papas (Holmes/Watson, kidfic) Foundations (Elementary gen; Bell-centric fixit AU)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, because I was taught to write thank you notes. Also, because sometimes I can lure a commenter into a conversation, which is always fun -- and sometimes they even become a friend.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Heh. *rubs hands gleefully* I have a little sideline in fics that made people cry. Let me show you some of my favorites!

The Golden Sand Bush/Hornblower Once again a prisoner of the French, Hornblower awaits his execution.

Cock on the Right background Bush/Hornblower/Maria For as long as he bears them, Bush's tattoos protect him faithfully.

Telling the Bees Elementary gen Sherlock returns from Switzerland, but Watson does not.

Brandy and Soda Holmes & Watson; Mary/Watson (7 Per-Cent Solution) Holmes returns to Baker Street.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oh, fuck if I know. I've been accused more than once of writing only bittersweetly happy endings. But here, have a story in which Horatio Hornblower, that sad wet miserable bastard, is simply happy for a day:

Nothing So Much Worth Doing

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not often. Earlier this year a commenter objected to a pwp being a pwp. Which. Dude. As a later commenter replied (so I didn't have to! blessings on their house!), the story was exactly what it said in the tags and summary, so take some personal responsibility and don't click on what you don't want to read.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes. Slash, femslash, threesomes; vanilla and kinky; realistic and fantastical; first times and well-seasoned olds. I haven't yet written anything that would bring the antis after me, but that's the kind of thing that I'd put under a different pseud anyway.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Absolutely. Probably Elementary x Bee-Man Comics: THE BEST BEE FIC ON MARS.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I had a couple requests this year for permission to translate a story (both granted), but I don't know the current status of either project.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

@phoenixfalls and I have a story we've been co-writing; every once in a while we talk about finishing it. I'd very much like to; I think it's great fun.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

Pass.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have a Twin Peaks x Buffy crossover that I quite like, but which I am extremely unlikely to ever finish. Every now and then I think of it wistfully, though.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Well-organized and precise prose, and strong characterizations.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Inelegant prose, and wobbly characterizations.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

An insidious trap, if your characters speak the other language better than you do. (With the exception of William Bush in French, they always do! Why do I write all these classically-educated assholes?)

My usual solution is to paraphrase the dialogue through my pov character, at whatever their level of comprehension is. After all, that's what the reader needs to know: what the pov character understands. Paraphrasing also circumvents the wild card that some of my readers will know the language and some won't -- this way, no reader has an advantage and no reader is left scrambling for a translation.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Ask Dr. Eldritch! a webcomic written by the talented evannichols.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Whichever one someone just left a lovely comment on.

#my writing #query memage

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junkissed · 2 years

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junkissed wips.

masterlist ->

☆ please read my guidelines before making a request! ☆ last updated: 12 july 2024. this is a list of all my current wips and projects in progress. this post will be updated frequently, so check here to see the status of your request! — if you're particularly excited for one of these and want me to make it a priority wip, send me an ask! the more interest there is in something = the more motivation i have to write, so i will try my best to get it done :) genre key: [🤍] = requested; [🐈] = requested for 1k event; [ M ] = smut; [ F ] = fluff; [ H ] = humor; [ A ] = angst; [ ☆ ] = high prio wip

• virgin!shua corruption ☆ [ M ] - status: currently writing (1.2k)

• minghao + wedding night ☆ 🐈 [ M, F ] - status: currently writing (2.0k)

• the king's gambit 95z collab [ M , A , F ] - status: unfinished (currently 22k) planning to finish this summer!

the fics i have started but am not currently working on; will revisit soon.

• model!woozi [ M, ? ] - status: on hold (1.5k)

• svt reaction - another member walks in on you ☆ 🐈 [ M ] - status: unfinished (2.8k)

• ex!jun x new bf!minghao (not a threesome) [ A, M ] - status: drafting

• actor!jun x actor!reader 🤍 [ M ] - status: unfinished (0.8k)

• joshua + corruption drabble [ M ] - status: unfinished (0.3k)

• college ta!hoshi [ M, F ] - status: unfinished (currently 0.4k)

• assistant teacher!seungkwan [ F, ? ] - status: unfinished (currently 0.6k)

• joshua + fake dating [ M ] - status: unfinished (currently 0.9k)

• junhao bondage threesome for bee 🐈 [ M ] - status: unfinished (currently 0.5k)

• jealous jun 🤍 [ M ] - status: unfinished (currently 1.9k)

• santa claus hoshi [ F, M ] - status: unfinished (currently 0.3k)

• mingyu + valentine's day edibles [ F, M ] - status: unfinished (currently 0.8k)

• wonwoo "a boyfriend for christmas" part 2 🤍 [ M ] - status: on hold indefinitely (0.9k)

• seungcheol "mistletoe inn" part 3 🤍 [ M, A, F ] - status: on hold indefinitely (1.9k)

the asks currently in my inbox that i plan to write! if yours isn't listed, then i may still be considering whether or not i'll write it due to time/inspiration, or it may have been combined with another similar ask.

• bf!shua + birthday surprise 🤍 [ M ] - status: not started

• jun - bathroom exclusive (bedroom exclusive part 2) 🤍 [ M ] - status: not started

• cat hybrid!jun for mars 🤍 [ M ] - status: not started

• vampire!jun + royal au for mars 🤍 [ M ] - status: not started

• jun + ot13 exhibitionism blowjob for mars 🤍 [ M ] - status: not started

• husband!jun blowjob 🤍 [ M ] - status: not started

• jun + premature ejaculation 🤍 [ M ] - status: not started

• jun + horny in public for kai 🤍 [ M ] - status: not started

• jun + spanking/pussy slapping 🤍 [ M ] - status: not started

• jun + size kink 🤍 [ M ] - status: not started

• virgin!jun + corruption for 💤 anon 🤍 [ M ] - status: not started

• woozi + post-workout sex 🤍 [ M ] - status: not started

• woozi + manhandling for alicia 🤍 [ M ] - status: not started

• soft dom!hao + dumbification for mika 🤍 [ M, F ] - status: not started

• hard dom!hao + dumbification for 💤 anon 🤍 [ M ] - status: not started

• minghao x nude model gf [ M ] - status: not started

• mingyu + sensory deprivation for freya 🐈 [ F ] - status: not started

• dk + scavenger hunt proposal 🐈 [ F ] - status: not started

• dom!vernon + dumbification 🤍 [ M ] - status: not started

• vernon + marking 🐈 [ M ] - status: not started

• vernon eating you out + fingering for nova 🤍 [ M ] - status: not started

• sub!jun & dom!vernon threesome for alicia 🤍 [ M ] - status: not started

• best friends junhao poly threesome for mars 🤍 [ M ] - status: not started

• virgin!dino & bf!jun threesome 🐈 [ M ] - status: not started

#[🎟️] — navi #[💒] — june.wips

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starwalker03 · 1 year

Note

I am curious about insignificant details. Does the remains of the Team get to celebrate birthdays or holidays? If so how do they celebrate? Do they have any memorable ones? Does Black Manta celebrate atlantean holidays?

Ooooooh good question. Hmmmmmmm.

Black Manta isn't actually Atlantean is the thing. I'm not entirely sure what the official canon is but I have my own story of how he came to know an Atlantean woman and why that love turned into him waging war on the king (which I hope to unpack in the fic). I think with this in mind he does celebrate Atlantean holidays and he attempts to have Kaldur celebrate with him every now and then. However I think these attempts largely get phased out after the first few years. Kaldur loses time very easily, and being reminded 'hey it's time for the equinox' would trigger him because he'd realise it's been three months since the solstice when he thought it was mere days or weeks. The smart thing to do would be for David to give Kaldur a means of tracking time and allowing him to leave the house so the days are different. Instead he just removes the trigger best he can and hopes for the best.

Artemis would celebrate holidays with Jade to her heart's desire. Mostly mainstream ones but I'm sure there's cultural holidays that Jade introduces her to. Whilst still with her dad there's be holidays they'd just be tense and meaningless facades.

Conner doesn't get holiday celebrations necessarily, but he's invited to all the company parties of unspecific denominations. Which is generally one big party around november-december with generic winter decor. Birthdays are reliant on coworkers involvement. I think Lexcorp probably doesn't allow for birthday time off but you're permitted celebrations provided it's done during break time. So Conner probably has a birthday every few years cause his co-workers get the chance to organise something like a cake to bring to work this does rely on them knowing his birthday, which they probably don't for the first couple years till someone points out 'hey I don't think any of us have ever mentioned it' and then manage to needle the info out of him. Other than that... I don't think he'd get holidays or vacations. Even if Lex gets time off Conner is his bodyguard so he just gets to stand there.

M'gaan probably gets to celebrate holidays alongside Bee. So whatever Bee does to celebrate M'gaan can enjoy beside her, she might even be a parent of the celebrations in some ways if you know what I'm saying. But for the most part I think M'gaan is a bit jaded about holidays. I think on Mars her experience with holidays was probably pretty shit considering she's a white Martian, so when she came to earth that time with the team was probably the closest she got to real family and real happiness and real holidays. Now she's probably just given up on the notion but still nostalgic for the time she spent with the team.

Dick's experience would be entirely reliant on what Slade wanted. The first few years I think Dick got nothing. Perhaps he was even left alone under lock and key while Slade spent time with Wintergreen, and eventually Rose. Once Slade trusts that Dick is broken and remade and fully his, he would be brought along to whatever holidays Slade had with people. Slade isn't hugely sentimental, though, so he probably picked and chose what he wanted to do based entirely on his own preference. Dick's heritage is Romani and a circus so he was probably used to observing so many different holidays of the people in the circus with all kinds of traditions. Then he was with Bruce who observed Jewish holidays and also made the effort to let Dick celebrate what he wanted, and that all changes with Slade. He probably gets the occasional Christmas and New year's, maybe some Easter celebrations because rose is young. Birthdays are the same I guess but I think Slade would find his own fucked up way to make dick acknowledge the passage of time and how utterly owned he is.

Wally is going to immediately make them celebrate everything.

Also! Ask every inconsequential question dude cause it's making me think of things I don't initially consider. Also I love answering questions about this fic.

#dick grayson #dc comics #fanfiction #angst #deathstroke #young justice #wally west #conner kent #kaldur'ahm #artemis crock #mgann morzz

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icyfox17 · 1 year

Note

1, 4, 8, 22, 26, 29, 30, 32, 35, 40, 52, 58 (It’s Golden Hour Somewhere :) and 61 (Wilbur Soot and Lovejoy!)

I know that’s a hekkin ton, so you don’t have to answer all of them XD

1. Are you an albums person or a singles person?

Albums !!! I think . askdfjksd

4. Is there a song you love but don't like its music video?

oh i am sure there are lots... especially songs from when i was a kid bc radio music always has hypersexualised music videos and those always made me feel so so uncomfy... can't think of an example rn though :0

8. Is there an artist or song that you like, despite being of a genre you don't usually like?

OOOHH HTHIS IS AN INTERESTING QUESTION HMM

Scared of the Dark by lil wayna, ty dollar sign, and xxx. i do Not like mumble rap and i really didn't like the verses but the CHORUS WAS SOOO GOUGHOGHOUGHOG EXPLODES that i listened to it on repeat and now i love the song (even tho i find the guys voice in the verse funny)

29. Songs you love to dance to:

funny you should ask that bc i have a playlist~ ... I JUST DELETED IT BY ACCIDENT FUCKKKKKK AWOFEIJAWEFLK

anyways. i will fix that later welp KFJSAKDJF

come on eileen by dexys midnight runners is A CLASSIC AND MUST BE ADDED IT'S THE BEST DANCING SONG EVER IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY AND EVER SINCE I READ BEES FIC HONEY AND TANGERINES IT MADE IT EVEN BETTER I CANNOT DO THIS RAHSSSSSS

disco by surf curse is another song that is just INSTANT DANCE VIBES how can u NOT dance to it

kiss goodnight by IDKHOW is another really lovely song that always makes me want to dance :)))

30. Songs you love to sing along to:

now this one i ALSO have a playlist and i will NOT delete it this time ohmgyod im actually so sad i loved my dancing playlist HELPS FDKJKJD

songs that are Simply Bangers hehehe this one's for when i just wanna shout lyrics at the top of my lungs

but for specific onesssss

Locked Outta Heaven by Bruno Mars // IT'S SO GOOD IT MAKES ME FEEL UNHINGED IL OVE IT SO MCHUH ABRKARKJWBAEKAWJKB unfortunately the lyrics make me feel Uncomfortable singing bc . major ace here woOOO but it's fine i just live in denial and try to remind myself that most ppl are actually yknow normal about sex unlike me LMAOFASJKFKJ

You Make My Dreams by Hall & Oats // literally any 80s song makes me so inexplicably happy and i Need to sing the lyrics aloud at the top of my lungs man

40. Which was the best concert you’ve ever been to?

i love ALL of the concerts ive been to but... half alive . half alive was SO FRICKEN COOL DAWGWGAOJIAWEAAEWR THE LIGHTS THE DANCING I CANT I CANNOT GET OVER IT IT WAS ONE OF THE GREATEST MOMENTS OF MY LIFE /SRS IT WAS INCREDIBLE OHMYOGDDD

52. Do you make playlists to be listened to in a specific order or in shuffle? Or both?

so i used to. hate shuffling. bc i am very very picky about the order of songs i listen to (like when i shuffle i will just . look at the queue and edit it intensely). so i used to make them for a specific order and actually one of my favourite things to do is figure out songs that transition super super nicely into each other oguhoguhgo so making a playlist that is perfect from start to finish is my dream... however rn i have such a big?? music taste??? that the playlists are so long and curating it to be the Perfect Experience would take too much time so now i just add shit and shuffle ofssdlkfd

58. Send me a song and I'll tell you the colors it made me think of, without looking at cover arts or music videos.

well that's just kinda unfair the word gold is literally in the title HELPPP but i picture the field that's in the music video (wait help "without looking at the music video" too late for that buddy it's engrained in my memory with how many times ive watched it), like that greenish colour that's what i think of yellowish green

but okay okay im turning it on now and the colours i get while listening to it is faded pastel yellow from the guitar intro, it turns more brownish orange in the verses, DEF a deep yellow/brown when the bass comes in

the chorus is green to me, the ooOooOOo is green and yellow to me

gosh i love golden hour

61. Make me choose between two artists/songs/albums.

ooohhh this one is hard bc like lovejoy has so much more stuff but wilbur soot changed my life

im choosing wilbur bc of since i saw vienna but do know that this hurt me asdjkfasdjkhf

#WOOO #thank you so much gracie #feel free to send me more colour ones :DDD #i LOVEEEE talking about songs and colours it makes me so so happy #im normally a basic bitch and have it related to the album art but i try not too !!!#foxieasks #grace tag #ask games

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ughgclden · 2 years

Note

i love hearing from u every time <3 it just takes so much for me to respond for some reason shdhshs BUT i understand that on an insane level, ive just been smoking mary jane n reading it and i LOVE it sm, out of my two friends that have read it they both agree i’m moony so i’m not sure what that says but it makes me happy

YOU DESERVE IT ALL BEE MY LOVE!! remembering insignificant things is such a love language of mine i- i understand the down bad, how’s it going with him! did you guys hangout? did he bring over take out food from his uncles restaurant just to see you? does he carry a book in his pocket? hehe

i’ve definitely been resting a lot recently! i also started therapy which i think is helping with everything (: plus everything is winding down and i’ll be traveling home soon and i’m kinda excited to be back home, with my full wardrobe and my dab pen to be quite honest shdhs…but month wise october and april have my heart, i love rainy gloomy weather so they’re currently battling for my affection, like i love spring but i love fall n it’s so sweet and spooky

no new dates thankfully, i have a deep hatred of men forever and always but this truly put me in a different spot. the audacity. but thank u for ur well wishes, i’ll find someone eventually but i’m in no rush, honestly i really enjoy being alone!! p.s i forgot to tell u i dyed my whole head red! like bright red! it’s cutie but i’m excited for it to fade already shdhs

i love you lots my bee!! congratulations on 1.5k that is literally fucking insane!! you deserve everything and more. forever will be my fav writer on here and i shall celebrate by participating in ur celebration and reading ur fics of course (:< (i’m sorry for how long this is shdhs)

mars mars mars!!! its now my turn to apologise for my disappearance,, ive missed you! that honestly sound like. an amazing way to spend your time and i am eternally jealous that im not doing that rn.. i think that's an amazing compliment tbh (and you DO give such moony vibes!!!)

and... we went on another date a couple of days ago>:) we went to a really cute cafe n then explored the christmas markets and he held my hand so he wouldn't lose me in the crowds so its safe to say im. being so calm and normal about him. and BSHJBDFJ i wish smh😔 he has however been giving me incredible book recommendations which is not helping with my whole down bad problem.

i hope therapy is treating you well!! i know it can be super helpful,, along with resting a lot,, so im so happy to hear!!! heading home is always absolutely lovely, i hope its nothing but calming and cosiness for you!!! incredible month choices i must say (and they also make so much sense in the best way!!!)

being single is so underrated tbh!!!! sometimes being alone is ten times better than being stuck with an average man,, in fact it nearly always is. BUT that sound so so pretty, and i bet you look absolutely stunning with it!!!!

i love you lots and lots mars,, thank you so so much wtf!!! sending you all of my love and well wishes, and happy first of december!!!

#mars<3

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modern-naiad · 4 years

Text

Fluffy Fic Songs

Here is a list of 35 songs I believe would make amazing fluffy fics, use the lyrics or just get inspired! There is a Spotify link is at the bottom, have fun writing and be sure to tag me if you use one of these, I’d love to see the end product!

YOUTH- Troye Sivan

Night Changes- One Direction

What A Feeling - One Direction

I.F.L.Y- Bazzi

Mirrors- Justin Timberlake

Tongue Tied- Grouplove

Best Part- Daniel Ceasar ft. H.E.R.

Paris In The Rain- Lauv

Teenage Dream- Katy Perry

Adore You- Harry Styles

Eyes Off You- PRETTYMUCH

Strawberries & Cigarettes- Troye Sivan

Sofia- Clairo

Lucky- Jason Mraz & Colbie Callait

Ocean Eyes- Billie Eilish

Sweater Weather- The Neighbourhood

Out of My League- Fitz and The Tantrums

She Looks So Perfect- 5 Seconds of Summer

Best Years- 5 Seconds of Summer

A Thousand Years- Christina Perri

In My Life- The Beatles

Your Song- Elton John

More Than A Woman- Bee Gees

All of Me- John Legend

Young and Beautiful- Lana Del Ray

Our Song- Taylor Swift

Stereo Hearts- Gym Class Heroes ft. Adam Levine

Rhythm of Love- Plain White T’s

This Love- Jessica Sanchez

I Wanna Be Yours- Arctic Monkeys

Marry You- Bruno Mars

Still Into You- Paramore

Paparazzi- Lady Gaga

Everything- Michael Buble

You Are the Best Thing- Ray LaMontagne

Listen to the playlist using this Spotify link:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7C88BQwnPxZcYvBbTZDZbk

Feel free to reblog 💕

More Coming Soon!

- @marvel-ing-at-it-all <3

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moonstruckwytch · 3 years

Text

Muggles Are Extraordinary

i was inspired by @softlystarstruck and her 8th year ficlet response to the prompt cowboy. it included a bunch of my favorite things, ridiculous, curious draco malfoy, awkward, dorky, harry potter, the sheer joy of learning, and sharing, random information. it was a challenge to write something this contained for me (it’s only 1k !!) - most of my writing tends to sprawl until i’ve got a ton of lead up into the middle and no end in sight. i hope i did the concept justice. (you can also read bee’s fic here)

“Muggles,” Draco says one day in the 8th year common room “are extraordinary.”

He states this plainly, as though it’s a fact, which it is. Nevertheless, the entire room seems to exhale, letting go of a breath most of the occupants didn’t even know they were holding.

Harry ambles over to where Draco is seated with Pansy and Blaise, curious if there’s more to the statement, anticipating that there is.

He’s right of course.

“Really they are,” Draco is saying “Did you know they’ve been to the Moon?”

“They have not.” Pansy says, looking scandalized.

“Oh but they have Pansy, dearest” Draco waves a book in their face. “I read ahead in our muggle studies book. They went to the Moon, and an American named Michael Collins even orbited the far side. He’s the only man who’s been that far from the rest of humanity.”

“How for the love of Merlin did they do that without magic?” Pansy’s nose is scrunched up like they’re thinking particularly hard.

“Rockets.” Harry supplies from where he’s standing behind Draco, who starts at the sound of his voice.

“You’re going to need to be more specific.” Pansy says, frowning “On second thought, leave it at that. I don’t know what a rocket is, and I don’t think I want to.”

They make a grabby motion towards Blaise, who stands and takes their arm without hesitation. The two of them head out of the common room to do who knows what, who knows where. Harry’s not particularly fussed about it.

He walks around the couch Draco is seated on, and settles next to him. “Space travel this week, hm?” he asks.

Draco’s shoulders had slumped when pansy and blaise had left, clearly disappointed in losing his audience, but at the sound of Harry’s voice and shift of the couch he looks up.

“It’s fascinating really, do you want to hear more?” He looks tentatively excited, grey eyes bright with just the slightest undercurrent of insecurity in them. It’s a look Harry doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to Draco turning on him.

“Yes, please. If you’ve got the time.”

“Only if you’ve got the time to listen.”

Harry leans over and pokes Draco’s side. “I’ve got all the time in the world to listen to you talk.” It comes out too fond, to genuine, and he feels himself flush, wishing he could take it back.

Draco simply smiles at him and presses their shoulders together where they rest on the back of the couch before launching into what he’s learned about the muggles this week.

“I went to Pince and asked for more books, and she got me this one by this American woman, it’s called Packing For Mars, and it’s about how the muggles did all of the weird small things no one thinks are going to be difficult until you’re actually in space and zero gravity is making it hard to use the loo.”

Harry snorts

“No really. Apparently one of the most beautiful sights in space is droplets of flash frozen urine drifting past the craft’s windows in the sunlight. And that’s not the only thing - they tried to send them up there with just nutritional paste to eat, but that went over terribly, so they had to do all sorts of experiments and in the end they managed to ‘freeze dry’ things? I’m not quite sure what that means but it sounds absolutely mad.”

Draco talks with his hands, emphasizing the important points, marking things he finds particularly ridiculous about the muggle’s journeys into space. He’s rambling, but Harry doesn’t mind.

One of the things Harry wasn’t expecting about befriending Draco 8th year is just how relentlessly curious the other boy is. He’ll spend hours reading whatever he can get his hands on, absorbing information on completely random topics, and then simply relaying it to anyone who will listen. Where Hermione is focused in her studies, Draco is a force of chaos. He’d probably win a pub night trivia game all by himself if given the chance.

The topic usually changes with the week. this week it’s clearly space travel. Last week was the functions of the human body, particularly the digestive tract, but there’d also been a whole day devoted to the ‘Microbiome’, whatever that is. Two weeks were dedicated to the muggle search for the afterlife, and their perception of ghost stories. One memorable week he’d managed to get a book about the history of sex research from Pince.

Most of the others are less charmed by this pursuit of knowledge than Harry is. There’s something about hearing Draco’s voice used for something other than taunting and ridicule that eases his breathing, and makes him feel altogether at peace. He’d listen to Draco talk for hours without getting tired if he could.

“Harry. Harry are you listening to me?”

“Huh? Sorry, I got lost there for a second. What were you saying?”

“I was /saying/ that the muggle’s next goal is Mars. They want to colonize a whole other planet! It’ll never work.”

“You said it yourself that they’re extraordinary. I think they’ll manage.”

“You would.”

“I would what.”

“Make it sound so /easy/“ Draco narrows his eyes and does his best impression of Harry “I think they’ll manage.”

“Oh don’t be a prat.”

“I’m not!”

“You are too!”

“Harry Potter only you would reduce the absolute madness that is not only getting to another planet but staying there and keeping people ALIVE to something ‘manageable’!”

Draco flops onto his back in Harry’s lap with a huff “they’ll manage” he repeats again.

It’s almost without thinking that harry starts to card his fingers through Draco’s hair. Draco starts off on another story, something about a flag and not burning it up in the atmosphere, but Harry’s mostly watching him talk at this point, letting the tone and cadence of Draco’s voice wash over him.

“Earth to Potter. Come in Harry.” He hears a while later.

“Huh... wha?” His head feels muzzy, and his mouth is dry.

“You nodded off on me. I didn’t realize i was boring you.” Draco looks embarrassed and a little cross. He’s sat up from Harry’s lap and his legs are folded under him, but he hasn’t moved away yet, which Harry takes as a good sign.

“I’m sorry - you’re not boring. It’s just” Harry’s not sure how to say this without giving Draco the ammunition to mock him for life. “It’s just that your voice is very soothing.” He turns and looks into the fire, his heart kicking at his ribs uselessly.

Draco grabs his wrist. “In that case...” he says slowly “perhaps i could keep talking elsewhere? I wouldn’t want you to wake up with a crick in your neck.” He’s smirking when Harry looks over, but it’s undercut with something softer, almost shy in his eyes.

“Er... yeah, okay?” Harry says, uncertainly.

“Fantastic then.” Draco hauls him up and starts pulling him towards the boys dorms. “Okay - so, back to the food thing. They’ve actually managed to grow potatoes IN space” he starts, and Harry’s more than happy to keep listening.

#drarry #drarry ficlet #harry potter #draco malfoy #h/d #harry/draco #cori writes #the book packing for mars is real and i’ve read it #it’s by mary roach who is one of my favorite authors #she’s also written about the search for the afterlife (spook)#and the history of sex research (bonk)#mayhaps i projected a little bit onto draco in this but i think he’d be a fan #this was fun to write #i’m pleased it’s only about 1k cause everything else i write tends to go VERY long

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podcastbigbang · 4 years

Text

Throw All Our Sleeping Minds (Without Damage)

Synopsis:

Jon and Martin manage to travel back in time to their first day in the Archives, but due to some mix-ups and mishaps along the way, neither knows that the other made it back with them. And both of them are too stubborn and self-sacrificing to allow this past version of their love to get involved with everything.

Rating: Teen

Pairings or Main Characters: Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood, Tim Stoker/Sasha James, Melanie King/Georgie Barker

Author Intro:

@herding-octokittens : Hi! I’m Brie (or Bee or Hey You, I’m not picky), and while this may technically be my first tma fic to be published, this is most definitely not my first time infodumping and hoping for the best in this fandom. I really like astronomy and am currently working to convince my entire school that Pluto should be a planet (results are varied).

Artist Intros:

@lentej : Hi! My favorite pastimes are drawing podcast fanart and stalking the Supernatural tag on tumblr for the latest twitter drama.

@eggdoesartsometimes : Hi I’m Mars and I’m an artist for this fic!

@magical-hobo-cat : Hello! I’ve been drawing fanart forever and lately have been really into podcasts. I love designing the characters! I usually sell at conventions, but the pandemic has put that on hold for now.

Beta Intros:

@oceanfangirl : I’m Ocean and I’m very excited for this fic since I am also terrified for the canon ending

@pensysto-writes : Hi, I’m CR! I love time travel stories, and I’m super excited to be a beta for this fic!

@ceaselesscow2011 : Hi! I'm Avery and I can't wait to be beta-ing this fic and having fun with this adventure!

@pinkninja236 : Hi I’m Kathryn and I’m a beta for this fic!

#podcast big bang 2021 #podcast big bang 2021 fic intros #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #tim stoker #sasha james #melanie king #georgie barker #fpbbmagnus

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i-bleed-strawberry-milk · 4 years

Text

T e n n i s (Shane Madej x Reader) (Smut Fic)

Request: "pfff uh like best friends who are both sexually frustrated and so they fuck??"

You and Shane have been good friends for years now, having a weekly movie night has just become a part both of your schedules. Without fail, each week you take turns hosting the night and choosing the movies. Tonight it's your turn and you've decided the theme for the night will be cringey rom-coms. You're on your third movie of the night, you've been talking back and forth the entire night, cracking jokes every time something unrealistically cliché would happen. You're minutes away from the end of the movie when you begin to speak, "God, I wish my life was a movie sometimes. You know, I'd never have to worry about my hair, or having to go to the bathroom. And then, when I'm at my lowest point, some guy would chase me down the street, pour his heart out, and we'd kiss. Happily ever after." You gesture to the TV with your beer bottle in hand, "I mean, a horse and carriage? Come on, that is awesome." You furrow your brows, bringing your bottle to your mouth.

Shane jumps in, "Not as awesome as this ambiguously upbeat pop song that has nothing to do with the plot they put at the end to try convince you that you had a great time at this shitty movie." He smiles, pointing to the TV as Count on me by Bruno Mars begins to play. You frown slightly in thought, "You know, why don't they ever make a movie about what happens after the big kiss?" You ask, turning to look at Shane. "They do Y/n. It's called porn." Shane states matter-o-factly, chuckling slightly. You groan, "God, I miss sex. Right? I mean, sometimes you just need it. It's like..." You begin to lean your head back against the back of the couch, cracking it slightly, " I don't know, it's like cracking your neck."

Shane raises his eyebrows, widening his eyes and nods his head, "Right! Why does it always gotta come with complications?" You nod, "And emotions." "And guilt." You roll your eyes and groan, "Guilt." Shane shakes his head, "It's women's fault." Shane says, raising his bottle of beer to his lips. "What?" You exclaim, irritated. Shane tilts his head, looking you in the eye, "You heard me. 'Hold me. Let's spend the rest of our lives together.'" Shane mimics a female voice. You raise your eyebrows, smiling slightly in disbelief, "Oh, please, you are no better. 'Oh, yeah, baby, come on, now. Say my name. Yeah... I'm done. How was I?'" You say, impersonating a mans voice. Shane cringes slightly, "Who have you been with?" He shakes his head. You frown slightly. "Why can't it not be like that? It's a physical act. Like playing tennis. Two people should be able to have sex like they're playing tennis." Shane says, shrugging his shoulders as he slumps in his seat.

"Yeah, I mean, no one wants to go away for a weekend after they play tennis." You shrug in response. "It's just a game. You shake hands, get on with your shit." Shane nods his head, again bringing his beer to his lips. "Yeah." You nod. "Yeah." Shane nods back. You take another sip of your beer, now seeing that its emptied, "Mm. You want more beer?" You ask, standing up and clearing up some of your and Shane's mess. "Mhm." Shane hums. He tilts his head as he eyes you up and down, rising his brows as you bend over picking up some pizza boxes. He bites his lips slightly as you walk away, your hips swaying deliciously. "Okay." You say, opening your fridge, grabbing two more beers. Shane squints his eyes in thought, "Y/n!" You nod still rummaging through the fridge, "Yeah?" You yell back. "Let's play tennis." Shane says, standing up. "What?" You giggle, shaking your head.

"Let's have sex like we're playing tennis." Shane says, walking into your kitchen. "Get the hell outta here." You chuckle turning to look at Shane. "Don't laugh. This could be great. This could take all the weirdness out of it." Shane says, taking the bottles from your hands and placing them on a counter top. "Well, we talked about this. I don't like you like that." You laugh, shaking your head. "I don't like you like that either. That's why it's perfect." He nods. "I don't even know if I find you attractive." You smirk, crossing your arms. "That's cute." Shane smiles smugly. "Ah, well, I do have a thing for jerks." You nod, smiling inwardly, "And I don't even know if you find me attractive." You shrug, un-crossing your arms, now placing your hands on her hips. "That's cute." Shane continues smirking, crossing his arms over his chest. "No, no! Before getting to know my awesome personality, what did you think? Strictly physical. First time you saw me."

Shane squints his eyes, "Strictly physical." You nod, "Mhm." "We're just two people? Just talking. Alright. I thought you had beautiful eyes, never thought I'd seen such big beautiful eyes." Shane smiles charmingly. You tilt your head slightly, "I liked your lips. Thought you might be a good kisser." He grins, "I am. Your breasts." "What about them?" "They intrigued me." "Really?" You furrow your brows, looking down at your breasts with a confused expression. "Yeah." "Oh, I think they're so distracting." Shane shrugs, "Still breasts." You smile, "Thanks. I liked your hands." "Mouth." "Butt." "Voice." "Chest." "Eyes." "You said that." "I meant it." Shane says softly.

You pout in thought, "You swear you don't want anything more from me?" "You swear you don't want anything more from me!" Shane points at you accusingly, "I know how you girls get." You squint, "Okay, if we're gonna do this we're gonna have to get things straight. No relationship. No emotions. Just sex." You say, sticking your hand out in front of yourself palm down. "Whatever happens, we stay friends." Shane says, placing one of his hands on top of yours. "Swear." You say, placing another hand on top. "Swear." Shane palaces another hand on top. "Swear." You say in unison. You tilt your head as you both take your hands away from each other slowly, "Okay," You nod slowly, "I guess we should go to the bedroom." You say, making a bee-line for your bedroom with Shane at your heels. You flick on the light as you both stand awkwardly in the doorway.

You both stand in uncomfortable silence until you decide you've had enough. You huff loudly, taking one of Shanes hands into yours, dragging him over to the bed and pushing him on top of it so that he's sitting on the edge. "I haven't had sex in months, I am not letting awkwardness ruin this opportunity." You say, pulling your shirt over your head, "But we only do this once." You say watching Shane unbuttoning his shirt hastily as you take your pants off. Shane nods his head as he begins undoing his belt and pants zipper. He quickly pulls them down, tripping slightly over his own feet as he takes off his socks. He sits back down on the edge of the bed, now only dressed in a pair of black boxer shorts. He watches impatiently as you stride back over to him, taking you in, from the curve of your waist to your plump thighs.

As soon as you've straddled him, Shane was on you, kissing you, moving his hands over your body, curling his fingers around the hem of your panties and yanking you against him. You felt his erection grow through his boxers. You get up off his lap, disconnecting your lips, much to your own dismay. You crawl atop the bed and lie down only to have Shane climb on top of you. "Ready?" He asks huskily. You nod, jerking your head up and down once.

Placing soft kisses down your throat, Shane worked his way down to your breasts. He gently slides his hands behind your back, undoing the clasp. He slips the bra off, kissing one of your breasts reverently. He tongued the nipple for a moment, then pulled it into his mouth and sucking firmly, causing you to gasp and rush a hand into his hair while your other grasps at the sheets. Shane lets out a low groan as you claw through his hair, the vibration causes goosebumps throughout your body, making you take in a sharp breath. Shane then pushes himself up, his forearms are on either side of your head so your trapped between his arms. He's inches away from your face, you can feel his breath on your lips, making you shiver. He has a slightly predatory expression, just the lustful look on his face alone is tying knots in your abdomen. You rub your thighs together, the wetness pooling between your legs causing slight discomfort. You whine slightly, making Shane smirk.

Shane then began to work his way down your body. When he reached your legs he pulls off your drenched underwear and grasps one of your knees and pulled it up without hesitation. "Open for me, baby," he told you, pushing the knee sideways to expose your pussy. "Shane, you don't have-" You interrupt yourself as emit a loud moan as Shane spreads your legs wider and gently delves into your folds. He was pleased to feel the wetness there, and moaned in appreciation. "You're drenched, Y/n. Gorgeous. Does that feel good, baby?" Shane says teasingly, now bringing his hand down, circling your clit with his thumb, massaging it gently.

"Yes," you breathed. You feel amazing, legs spread wide, head back, panting in intense arousal. Shane moved his head lower, kissing your navel and stomach, then moved to your core. He lifted your thighs and slipped his hands under your bottom, holding it firmly. Then he took a long look at her creamy folds, practically dripping with her feminine honey. You gasp and shut your eyes as Shane's tongue drew a path along her pussy, and then flicks at your clit. The sensations are incredible as his talented mouth sucks and licks you with a gentle but intense rhythm which had you writhing under his hold. Again and again he licked you, then penetrated you and licked inside. As he returned to tantalise your clit, you feel your eyes roll back as you begin huffing. Hot, hotter, and a building rush as if you were heading for a cliff, When Shane gets a firm hold of your nub and sucked it, you let out a cry and are suddenly pushed over the edge, griping Shanes hair tightly.

You sigh, shivering slightly as Shane moves back up your body. You and Shane were face to face again as you continue to catch your breath. He then leans down and catches you in a feverish kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips, making you moan slightly. You move your hands up to his chest, pushing Shane onto his back, climbing on top of him. She moves down his body, yanking down Shane's underwear, his erection standing straight up, begging for attention. You take Shane's cock into your hand and brings it to her mouth. You lick up the side making him groan lowly, he then brings his hands to your hair, balling it up in his fist. You bring it into your mouth sliding down onto it slowly, causing Shanes hips to thrust up into your mouth, making you gag. You measure the rhythm of your sucking to Shanes thrusts. You hollow your cheeks, moving up and swirling your tongue around the tip. Shane gently continued guiding you up and down on his cock, hurrying you without forcing you to take more than you were comfortable with.

You hollow your cheeks again, making Shane to shoot into your mouth, and you spluttered a bit, swallowing most of his essence, with some dribbling out the side in a very erotic manner. You rub it away with your thumb and put in your mouth, sucking it off. You then proceed to lie down beside Shane, taking a breath. Shane then gets on top of you, making you raise your eyebrows in surprise, "We're not done." Shane says, pinning your hands above your head, making you smirk, "Condom. Top drawer," you smile slightly, nodding your head in the direction of the bedside table. He takes one hand away from your wrists, rifling through the drawer, taking the condom and tearing it open with your teeth, putting it on, then returning his hand back to your wrist. He knees your legs open, and you comply easily. Shane poises at her entrance, his cock just touching her. He spends some time pushing up and down your folds, teasing your clit, until you're panting and writhing under him. When he felt another gush of moisture, he pushed firmly at her tight core.

You held your legs wide and lift your hips, offering yourself to Shane in abandon. As you felt him pressing you, you almost cried with wanting. "Yes, Shane, please..." You say, your body loose and open, nectar flowing steadily with the extreme state of arousal you were in. Shane needs no further invitation. He enters slowly, only to have you wrap your legs around his wait, pulling him so that he was fully sheathed inside of you. You cry out in pleasure and struggle to release your hands, which Shane still have clasped above your head. He frees you, and you bring your hands back to his hair, massaging his scalp, making him groan deeply. Shane withdrew a little, then re-entered, eliciting another gasp from you. You start to move with him and find a rhythm. Shane steps up his pace, he's deep within you, balls hitting your ass each time he thrusts forward. He then rears away from your body and reaches in between the two of you to finger your clit. It was large, engorged with blood, and very sensitive. Your cries become louder and closer together. Shane increases his thrusts still further, and feels his own climax approach.

"Jesus, Y/n, you're so fucking tight," he groaned out, and flicks her clit rapidly with his thumb. You convulse under him, bucking your hips and clenching around his cock. His release lashed through him and shot into the condom, pulling her hips to him as he jerked against her. You both come down slowly, Shane pulls out and disposes the condom, crawling back into the bed beside you. Pulling up the sheets, covering both you and him. "You know, technically aftercare is a big part of sex." You say, crawling closer to Shane. He nods his head, smiling slightly, "You're not wrong." He says, opening his arms for you, holding you close to his chest. He kisses the top of your head, "Night Y/n."

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sanguinarysanguinity · 4 months

Note

never have you ever written a story set in space?

One of my very first fics ever published (judge it gently, please!), No More Trouble Than It's Worth. Torchwood x Firefly, set on the Serenity, while she's in transit in spaaaaaaaaaaaaaace!

There's also a couple with incidental space travel. THE BEST BEE FIC ON MARS (in which Sherlock Holmes is kidnapped to Mars by a Martian bee queen), and Bellies to Scritch, Ice to Skate (in which Yuri and Viktor go to Barcelona, the planet of poodles with no noses).

#writer never have I ever #ask box is open if anyone wants to play!

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rosesformark · 5 years

Text

allure - mark lee : [02]

genre: angst, fluff, college au, fratboy!mark

pairing: mark lee x reader

word count: 5.7k

synopsis: attention and affection, the things he thrived off and wanted most in the world. but would it be at the expense of the one he loves most?

A/N: hi guys! part 2 of allure is finally up hehe :) it was honestly really fun writing when oc and mark met but i didn’t expect for it to end up so long LOL it’s the part in italics which is basically a flashback,, i was going to start the party scene here but i wanted to break up the parts so it’ll be in part 3. hope you guys enjoy the story so far because it’ll get angsty in the later parts :) and i just realized that my fic photo isn’t black haired mark but o well LOL might change later,,,

also, quick question! are any of you guys going to neocity? :0

*special thank you to @nctmrkl99 and @whatmarklee for the lov and support hehe, you guys ultimately gave me the motivation to post this!! uwu*

MAR. 27, 2019

[2:31 PM]

“I don’t know, I kinda just find it interesting that you guys talk in the first place? You were really close to each other and if I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought–”

“Soo. Cut it out, we’re just acquaintances.”

You didn’t even bother looking up at Kyungsoo’s accusing eyes as you focused on scribbling the notes from the lecture. He realized that you weren’t going to give him the answer he was looking for and slumped in his seat. It took him exactly four seconds for him to spring back up and made it a point to come closer to your calm figure next to him.

“I heard there’s a party going on at his frat today–”

“There’s a party practically everyday, Soo.”

He narrowed his eyes at your interruption and continued to speak, ignoring your retort, “Are you planning on going?”

You let out a sigh and finally looked up at his eager eyes, settling your aching hand from taking notes down and turning slightly in your seat towards him. You didn’t know why he was being so curious all of the sudden, especially parties. Parties and Kyungsoo don’t mix. You knew he was trying to provoke a reaction out of you and weren’t letting up.

You gave him a look as you held eye contact with him, seeing just how curious he was being. A couple seconds passed between you two as the professor’s rambling voice reminded you of the notes you had to take. You turned back towards your paper and sighed, “Even if I planned on going, it wouldn’t be for him.”

“So you are going.”

Kyungsoo’s voice turned more accusatory if that was even possible. It made the guilt from not telling him of your relationship with Mark arise again but you quickly swallowed it down, ignoring the ball in your throat.

“Yes, Soo, I am going. I’m a sophomore in college, why can’t I go to frat parties? They’re fun”

“You never bothered going to parties before.”

“I did, you just never saw me going to one.”

It was true, even before meeting Mark, you went to frat parties with your other friends. You knew that Kyungsoo more often than not preferred to stay in to study so you never bothered asking him to go to one.

You didn’t realize that your tone slowly became more exasperated as Kyungsoo let out a heavy sigh, glare turning into a subtle pout. When you say subtle, you mean subtle. Kyungsoo was known for a lot of things, but adorable was not it, excluding towards you, his best friend.

“Y/N, I’m not trying to interrogate you, okay? It’s just that, you know that I don’t like Mark and I don’t want you to get hurt. Friendship or not”

Oh, there goes the guilt coming up again.

You slowly looked up to his eyes again, this time they were softer and you could see the protectiveness in them. You didn’t understand why he didn’t like Mark so much, whenever you tried bringing it up he would always change the subject. Assuming that it’s a sensitive topic, you never pressured him but your curiosity never faded. You felt the twinge of guilt hit your heart as the reminder that you’re lying to your best friend flashes through your mind right next to his pout.

You treaded lightly with your next words, “Soo… Underneath his little act, Mark’s a nice guy. Why not give him a chance?”

A shadow passed through his face as he chose to stay silent and wordlessly turned towards the front, successfully ending the conversation. Your shoulders sagged a little at his lack of response. In a perfect world, your best friend would approve and get along with the guy you liked. Sadly, that was not the case for you and your mood turned almost sour as the silence dragged on and enveloped the both of you.

No words were exchanged during the rest of the lecture and the slight tenseness was smothering you. You ached to break the tension but one look at Soo’s blank face made you turn back towards your notes until the lecture was finally over and both of you started packing up.

You smiled a little seeing how Kyungsoo still decided to wait for you even though he was peeved. He patiently waited at the corner of your desk as you packed up the last of your pens and highlighters, then hoisted your backpack onto your shoulder.

Loud chattering broke your focus from Soo as your eyes drifted towards the noise. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Mark boisterously walk into the lecture hall, gaining the attention of others who immediately greeted the most popular boy on campus.

No matter where he went Mark always had the attention on him, mostly in a positive way. He outshined others with his personality, academics, and charm and that ultimately had boosted his confidence and how he interacted with others. He was like a star, drawing in others with merely just his presence and successfully capturing their attention.

Just like how he did with you.

Your eyes lingered on him as he strided up to his group, waiting for all of them to head out and grab lunch. You couldn’t take your eyes off on the way he shone, the way he grinned and talked with multiple people with ease. It was fascinating seeing him in his social zone.

Kyungsoo’s impatient, but gentle, shove broke you out of your trance and you wordlessly started walking down the stairs and towards the door. Your cheeks burned at the fact that Soo clearly caught you staring at Mark but you couldn’t help but take another glance.

There was a familiar tug at your heart as you saw a smirking Mark swing an arm around a girl’s shoulder, you recognized her as Jisoo, one of the girls in his designated group. The action could’ve been seen as friendly but the way Jisoo blushed and leaned her head on his shoulder proved otherwise.

It was a friendly gesture, you told yourself.

Just a friendly gesture.

Even as your eyes started looking a little more sad, you continued walking at the same pace, not wanting to draw attention and cause traffic. However, your efforts were futile as the guy walking in front of you suddenly stopped walking to greet Mark, making you smack in the middle of his back. For a second, your textbook dug harshly into his back making him yelp unnecessarily loud out of pain.

His whole body indicated heavy annoyance as he was prepared to turn around and snap at you for not paying attention (Even though it was his fault for stopping out of nowhere). Before he noticed you though, Mark clapped him on the shoulder and greeted him loudly, shifting the boy’s attention from the pain to the man of the hour (or year).

You didn’t get a chance to see Mark as Kyungsoo swiftly maneuvered you around their interaction and towards your escape from the wild beast. You internally thanked Kyungsoo for thinking ahead of you but you longed to look at the boy that you were infatuated with. Kyungsoo showed no signs of stopping so right before walking out, you peered over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of him. You blushed yet again as you caught Mark already looking at you and smiling softly in your direction. Upon noticing your attention, his smile turned into a grin as he dropped his left eye into a wink then turned back to his friends. Just from that little acknowledgment, your body heated up in happiness and you smiled softly to yourself. Not being able to interact him in public made the small gestures mean even more to you. You knew it was borderline dangerous but Mark made feeling things so easy that you found yourself not caring that you were digging your own hole deeper and deeper.

He made falling in love too easy.

“...party with you.”

Kyungsoo’s voice startled you from your train of thought as you looked up at him as both of you made your way to the campus dining hall.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

Kyungsoo’s eyes turned towards you and for the first time in a while, you couldn’t read his expression. It was like a mix between comprehension and worry, making you feel uneased underneath his gaze.

“I said, I’m going to the party with you.”

Surprise was shown on your face as you opened your mouth to question him, though he beat you to your own question.

“As you said, I’m a sophomore, why can’t I enjoy my college life while I can and go to a frat party to have fun?”

You narrowed your eyes at his retort and reference to your previous words. It felt sketchy, Kyungsoo wanting to go to a party, it made the uneasiness settle even deeper. He continued staring straight ahead as your skepticalness was showing so long as he was deliberately avoiding eye contact.

After a couple of seconds, it didn’t make you feel any better when he followed up with, “Besides, I’m your best friend, we should be partying together, don’t you think so?”

⋯

NOV. 15, 2018

[11:07 PM]

As you entered the bass filled house, the smell of alcohol mixed with pineapple flavoured vape immediately hit your nose. Your group of friends surrounding you erupted in cheers at the lively atmosphere and bee-lined for the dance floor, pulling along your laughing figure as a familiar song came on and your body danced to the beat.

You were in the middle of the dance floor as beams of light kept hitting everyone at different angles. Everyone besides you were either swaying side to side or getting it down with their partners. At first you were a bit stiff and nervous, seeing as this was your (along with your friends) first frat party, you wanted to watch yourself. But naturally, your body started moving along to the music and it made you feel less tense and anxious, not even five minutes passed before your skin started prickling with sweat and your heart was beating with adrenaline. You grinned at your friends having the time of their lives and motioned to them that you were going to the kitchen for a drink, expecting them to follow along.

Halfway towards the kitchen, you turned back and realized that your friends were in fact not following you and you were by yourself. Your body stiffened with nervousness and your confidence dwindled a bit as the area around suddenly became so much smaller. Pushing your nervousness aside, you continued your trek in getting a drink because you were at the point of dehydration where you could feel yourself passing out any minute.

Entering the kitchen, you scrunch your nose in disgust at the sight of at least three couples heavily making out. One pair was going at it in front of the fridge, where you assume the drinks would be. You were about to tap on the guy’s shoulder when his partner suddenly flipped them around and aggressively attacked his neck. Your eyes widened in slight shock and that’s when you decided to pivot on your heel and out into the hallway again.

Maybe there was a water cooler somewhere else, you thought. You’d go through hell and back before interrupting a couple on the verge of practically doing the nasties right then and there in the kitchen.

The dim lighting in the house was obscuring your vision as you made your way around the house. You didn’t notice a sudden hand reaching out and tugging your wrist into a separate room. You yelped in surprise as the door slammed shut and whipped around in defense mode, heart going a hundred miles per hour.

Your eyes met with one of your friends that you came to the party with, body relaxing just a tiny bit as you gave Eun-ji a questioning gaze. You noticed her eyes were a bit hazy as she was leaning more than she should on a boy standing next to her.

“Y/N! We were about to play a game and I saw you walking by! C’mon, we need one more girl playing.” Eun-ji didn’t give you a chance to reply as she dragged you towards the circle of people in the middle, plopping you down on the couch right next to her. You grabbed both her shoulders before she could pull away and looked into her eyes in worry. Her face was extremely flushed as she playfully pushed away your hands despite your protests.

Your eyes darted to the boy she was leaning on before and saw him passing a blunt to her lips. She graciously took in a breath and giggled at your worried expression.

“Y/N I’m fine! Loosen up a little, here! By the way, this is Johnny.”

She passed you a red solo cup and you winced at the amount of vodka sloshing around in it. You’ve drank before but with your friend clearly intoxicated, you didn’t want to risk being out of it too in case something happened.

You also just felt extremely uncomfortable in this setting and it was putting off your mood to party.

Eun-ji kept on giggling as her attention focused on the boy you supposed was Johnny as he smirked at her attention and started whispering in her ear, with her shamelessly responding to his flirtatious actions and feeling around his chest.

You took a moment to finally scan your surroundings, the bass from the living room was slightly muffled from the closed door and there was a machine in the corner that caused beams of lights to bounce off the walls that mimicked the ones in the living room. There were, you estimated, 15 people scattered in the room, with an equal ratio of girls to guys.

That was when you recognized one by one that the guys in the room were in fact the group of boys hosting said party you were in. You didn’t know them too well but from what you’ve heard, they never failed to throw the biggest parties and have quite the experience with girls, especially Mark, the guy who ran the whole frat. You thought you’ve never seen any of them before but a couple faces you recognized, Donghyuck and maybe, what was it, Jeno? Most of them were paired up with another girl and were flirting up a storm, except for one black haired boy that stood up and started gathering everyone’s attention.

You did a double-take as even in the poor lighting you could tell the guy was extremely attractive. He was clad in a black, floral button up with multiple necklaces hung around his neck, hair parted slightly to the side and swept in with a comma look.You could tell he was the most sobered up one out of everyone as his eyes darted around with clear intent and no haziness detected.

Well, maybe a little but you were sure it was from the adrenaline.

He was looking around the room and when his eyes landed on you, you took a sharp breath in. His eyes were intensely looking into yours and even from far-away, you saw that they were glittering and pulling you into their abyss. They were brown, very dark brown, and almost intrusive-like when he eyed you curiously. It was like the whole room stopped and it was just you two there, endlessly staring into each other’s orbs.

You could tell he was equally as affected as you were when he blinked out of his trance and shook his head a bit to gather his thoughts. He followed up with a smirk that made your heart skip a beat and proceeded to turn to the others. You looked around and saw that none of them noticed your little moment and was rather focused on their partner of the night. Attention was immediately drawn to him naturally as he held an air of confidence and poise, the other girls were swooning over him before he even talked and you wondered just who was this guy that held so much power.

“Okay, let’s all gather in a circle and we’ll start”

His voice was husky and you shivered in your spot, heart beating faster and faster when he walked up to the spot next to you and sat down near your feet on the floor. You could only see his hair from your angle and you had to refrain from running your hands through it as it softly bounced up and down when he settled into his spot.

Your attention shifted to a boy across the room who was chugging a half empty bottle down his throat. Everyone around him was cheering as he finished the bottle within seconds and placed it in the middle of the circle. His eyes were wild with intoxication as he grabbed his own solo cup from a table nearby.

“Hey guys, I’m Yuta and before everyone starts making out, let’s all take a shot!”

Bottle? Circle? Making out?

Everyone cheered and raised their cups up and that was when your mind put everything together and realized you stumbled yourself into a game of 7 minutes in heaven. You whipped your head to Eun-ji who pulled you into the game in the first place and saw her happily taking her shot instead, not noticing your glare.

“And I mean, everyone.” Yuta’s voice caught your attention as he made eye contact with you and winked before knocking back his own cup, everyone clearly taking more than one shot.

You looked around nervously as the others were finishing up with their cups and Yuta started going around with a bottle to refill them back up. It’s just a little shot, you thought. Your hands started getting more and more clammy the closer Yuta got to you. Along the chain of refilling cups, Johnny didn’t finish his shot in time which made Yuta pour more than what was in there before, cheering loudly as Johnny was encouraged to chug more and more.

You kept staring at the liquid in the cup, contemplating why you were here in the first place. You felt anxious, pressured, and all things bad. You should’ve known you had to drink at some point and you dreaded the burning feeling you would feel in your throat–

You blinked for one second and realized that you were no longer clenching your cup, feeling someone swiftly snatch it out of your hands.Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion as you looked to your left and saw that the black haired boy next to you grabbed your nearly full cup and shoved his empty one into your hands. He knocked your cup back with ease and experience, not wincing at all at the bitter taste and swiped a lime from a nearby table to suck on just in time for Yuta to come by and refill your cup.

“Took you long enough, princess. Here’s for round two” Yuta winked at you yet again and took the liberty of refiling the cup in your hands back up to the top, repeating the action to the boy next to you.

Yuta moved onto the next person in line as it took you a moment to comprehend what was just happened. The boy next to you just drank for you. He wordlessly took your cup and drank for you when he didn’t even know you. A smile tugged at your lips as your heart warmed at such a genuine action that you couldn’t help but glance at him again.

His eyes were already on yours when you turned and it made your heart skip a beat again. (Damn Y/N, get it together!) Maybe it was the dimmed lights or you were second-hand high but your mind couldn’t help but bring its walls down one by one the longer you stared at him. He was leaning back against the adjacent couch and rested his head in the palm of his hand, lazily drinking the sight of you in and grinning. You were about to ask for his name when Donghyuck(?) interrupted you by going in the middle and explaining the rules of the game.

“Okay, ladies and gents, here’s how it's going down. We’re gonna spin the bottle twice and whoever it lands on gets to have their lucky time in the room out that door.” He stopped and pointed to one of the doors that you assumed lead to another bedroom. He turned back towards the group with a grin, “A twist though! After the bottle is done being spun, the one who got picked first gets to choose whether or not they want to have their 7 minutes in heaven or not. If yes then you have to go in! No excuses, or else whoever refuses has to finish this entire bottle.” Donghyuck smirked and held up the bottle that was used to refill all the cups and you saw that there was well over half left in it.

Your mouth dried at the thought of drinking the rest of it. The chances of you getting picked was low, right? And even then, as long as you were picked first, then it didn’t matter because you would choose no.

Your eyes caught the attention from another boy across the circle. He was staring at you but it wasn’t like the gaze that the boy next to you had, it was sleazy as his eyes raked up and down your figure in an extremely unsettling way. He licked his lips and sent an unflattering wink across the room that had you looking down in embarrassment and discomfort.

“Let’s start!” Donghyuck spun the bottle and the game had officially begun. One by one, people were being chosen by the bottle and so far no one has said no. The first half hour consisted of couples coming out the room together with flustered faces as the sexual tension grew stronger by the minute. Everyone was excited when the bottle landed on them as you assumed it was because everyone in the circle was actually really attractive.

You, on the other hand was just not feeling it. You wanted to have a good time with your friends, not participate in some dumb kissing game that was only an exchange of germs everywhere.

The bottle was spun again as it slowly landed on a girl that you recognized to be a classmate, Jisoo. She was extremely pretty and smiled at everyone as she leaned forward to spin the bottle again, eyes lingering solely on the boy next to you.

You admit that your heart sunk a bit when it actually landed on the boy who has been on your mind for the past hour or so. Jisoo squealed delightfully as she wasted no time in standing up and holding a hand out for him to reach for.

Your heart sunk yet again when you saw him smirk and reach for her fingers. She shamelessly giggled at him as she dragged him towards the room that has been hastily occupied by couple after couple. The last thing you saw before the door closed was Jisoo flinging herself at the boy and attaching her mouth against his. He didn’t hesitate in reciprocating as the door slammed shut and everyone was whooping from outside.

You can’t say that you weren’t disappointed. Hell, you didn’t even know the guy but you thought that there was something spoken between the eye contacts both of you exchanged. Maybe it was just in your mind though, maybe he did that with all the girls he comes across with just to pull them in. You should’ve known better than to actually expect something from a frat boy at a frat party. You couldn’t help it though when your mind kept reeling back to his warm, beautiful, captivating eyes.

7 minutes felt the longest when finally the door opened up and the cheers were heard again as the couple stepped out. The boy’s hair was clearly ruffled and messed with as Jisoo looked even more flustered than ever. Both of them had slightly bruised lips as Jisoo giggled and reached for his hand to hold. It surprised the both of you when he simply ignored her and bee-lined to his spot next to you again, smirking at everyone except for her as she wordlessly took her seat, eyes glancing almost desperately at the boy for eye contact.

You didn’t know what to think, from your angle, you saw many hickies dotting around his jawline so you thought he had enjoyed it. Why did he ignore her like that? A bit of an asshole move if you asked yourself.

Almost as if he could hear you, he turned his heads towards you and raised an eyebrow.

“What’s an asshole move?”

You gasped quietly and brought your hands up to your mouth, realizing that you were voicing the last bit of your thoughts out loud. You stammered out a “nothing” before facing forward and ignoring his prying eyes on the side of your face.

“Okay! Last one before we end this game and go back out to party!” Donghyuck exclaimed. “Mark, would you do the honors?”

Mark?

The black haired boy reached forward and spun the bottle and your eyes widened. Mark? Head of frat boy Mark? Player Mark? The one that Soo hates Mark? The boy who you were completely infatuated with for the past hour?

Your confused state almost made you miss the fact that the bottle landed on him again and people started cheering for him. He laughed before spinning the bottle again and you shivered at the sound of his deep, breathy laugh.

You were staring at the blue and purple spots on his neck when another round of cheering caused you to look up. You blinked as everyone was staring at you with wide smiles and choruses of “Okay Mark, get it!” echoed around the room. Your eyes darted to the bottle and indeed, it has landed on you.

“No– I, uh, I don’t–” You frantically gestured no with your hands as you felt someone grab them while you were flailing about. Your head whipped to Mark as he pulled up off the couch and lead you inside the room. Your mind was reeling with what was happening and all of the sudden the door closed and you were standing between Mark’s legs as he sat on the bed.

No, you guys weren’t kissing. He was simply staring at you while resting his hands on your hips. Your hands were fidgeting around, not knowing where to place them when Mark grabbed both of them to rest around his neck, then settled back on his spot on your hips again.

In this moment, it felt right. He felt like a missing puzzle piece to your body, fitting in the right places but not in an unsettling way. It was comfortable and his gaze on you made your body burn hot as you subconsciously fiddled with the hair at the nape of his neck.

He was holding your eyes captive again. Why did he have such a strong effect on you?

“We don’t have to do anything, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Your ears perked up at his deep yet soft words. It was quiet between the two of you, the music in the background barely being heard.

“Then why did you bring me in here? You could’ve said no if you knew I wasn’t going to do anything.”

He stared at you as you spoke, not answering your question but just staring. You thought he was offended so you began pulling away but his grip on your hips tightened and pulled you closer.

“As cheesy as it sounds. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to just stare at you.”

Your cheeks heated up as you shyly looked down. Your thoughts were racing at his statement. So he felt the same way as you? Why was he being so awfully sweet? He didn’t like that you looked away so he used one of his hands to lift your chin up, effectively capturing your gaze again.

“There’s just something about you. If it were up to me, I could just stare at you all day.”

You stared at his lips as he spoke, his tone sounded so sincere, so genuine that you couldn’t help the smile that graced your face as his eyes lighted up at the sight of your beautiful smile, it was breathtaking to him.

He was being so sweet, so unlike his actions towards Jisoo just minutes before. Which reminded you as you darted your eyes towards his neck and saw the hickies littering his skin. You gently brushed your fingers against the marks as you felt goosebumps arise after your touch.

“Very unexpected for the Mark Lee to say, wouldn’t you think so?”

“So you’ve heard about me?” His ears perked up at your question, eyebrows also raising in question. “I hope all good things.”

“Hmm, it depends on how you look at it.” You playfully responded as his lips turned up into a knowing grin. He knew of reputation and clearly wasn’t ashamed of it, in fact it almost seemed as if he embraced it. “Which makes me wonder if you’re just all talk or do you actually mean the things you say.”

His eyes lingered on you as you spoke, like he’s mesmerized by your voice. “Believe me love, when I say that I can’t stop looking at you even if I tried to. I wouldn’t even mind a kiss or two.”

His grin was wide as he said those words and it made you question his intentions again. You guessed your face contorted with disgust as he let out a hearty laugh at your expression.

“I’m just kidding baby, don’t take it so seriously.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t, seeing as you’re excellent with the ladies.”

“But you feel different.”

His words took you by surprise as he said them seriously without hesitation. Your heart stuttered at his next words, “I feel so many things when I look at you. It’s like I’m floating high above the ground but at the same time, I’m grounded.” He whispered the words into existence as he tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear. “I don’t even know you and you make me feel this way. Crazy, right?”

Crazy enough that you felt the exact same way with him. Though, you didn’t voice this out loud. You stared at his glinting eyes, his eyes that showed no signs of joking and just pure adoration. From the bruised lips to the high cheekbones that showed when he smiled, he was breathtaking in every way possible and you couldn’t look away. His black hair melded into the darkness as you finally reached up to run your fingers through it. He sighed in content as his whole being relaxed in your arms and the moment was so peaceful, you would give anything to not break it.

Sadly enough, a round of knocks interrupted your moment as Donghyuck’s impatient voice shouted through the door, “Hey! Your 7 minutes passed like 5 minutes ago, quit your nasties and come out so we can all have a final shot!”

You pouted at the moment broken as you unwillingly pulled away from Mark as he stood up from his spot. His eyes looked a little hazed out of nowhere and he seemed discontent to move away.

Nevertheless, he gave you a smile and said, “I’ll drink your shot if you’d like.”

You chuckled, “No thanks, I’ll just leave before he can give me one.”

“Like that’ll work.” He playfully rolled his eyes as you smiled at his teasing tone. “I didn’t even get a thank you.”

Maybe it was because the moment was too perfect that you didn’t want to break the chemistry both of you had, or maybe it was the fact that he was being so unlike all the rumors you heard of him. You knew for a fact that it wasn’t the alcohol talking since you didn’t drink at all but you really weren’t sure what compelled you to reach up on your tiptoes and press a soft kiss to his lips.

He froze at your action as his whole body stiffened at the unexpected contact. It wasn’t a crazy or intrusive kiss but it had the effect of seeing stars and fireworks behind your eyes. It was a small, slight peck compared to the aggressive one Jisoo had delivered before that you chuckled a bit at his confusion of such an innocent kiss. You pulled away with a smile to catch him still closing his eyes and you internally cooed at such an adorable sight.

“Thank you, Mark” You whispered as you saw a visible shiver run through his body at the sound of your voice. You wholeheartedly smiled before turning towards the door.

You were about twist open the knob before he tugged you back by the wrist and frantically spoke out, breathlessly, “Wait, I didn’t even get your name?”

You looked back and he seemed so adorable and flustered in the moment that you couldn’t believe that this man was the head of his frat. His walls were down as his eyes displayed a sort of desperateness to it and you knew this feeling was unfamiliar to him.

“Maybe I’ll tell you the next time we talk.” You smiled after your response and just as you saw the protests coming out of his mouth, you slipped out of the door and away from the prying questions from the others. You felt Jisoo’s eyes lingering on you as you walked towards the door. Ignoring the other’s protests from walking out on them, you exited and went back into the bass filled living room.

Throughout the whole night and even before the both of you fell asleep, a smile was set on both yours and Mark’s face as you longed to see one another again, to shamelessly fall in each other’s abyss without a care in the world.

⋯

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beautymercurydragon · 5 years

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Fun facts about my ML next-gen/plot changes

Originally, it was supposed to be a story where Alya’s son and Marinette’s daughter were Chat Noir and Ladybug, and they fell in love with each other over time, while Kagami’s daughter Kimiko tried to set them up

Maddie never existed in my original concept. Originally, Adrien and Marinette were supposed to have fraternal twins named Emma and Danielle, the latter of the two being Ladybug. They had another two children; twenty-three year old Hugo, and their twelve-year-old Louis.

Kara didn’t exist either. Originally, she would have been a boy named Peter, but that got changed around as I wanted to go for a more unique next-generation plotline. Kailie was going to have been named Caitlin.

Vivienne was going to be Chloe and Nathaniel’s daughter, and she was going through a hard time with her parents’ divorce because Chloe cheated with Kim.

Luka would have been with Lila, and their daughter would be named Anna. Kagami’s husband was a Japanese suitor chosen by her mother who died, leaving her to raise her daughter alone. Anna and Emma were school bullies, and joined Lila as supervillains, them becoming Bluebird and Farfalla.

There was a plot where Lila would have taken the Fox Miraculous and became Scarlet Fox, head villain of Paris, but as you may have guessed from the actual story concept that I went through with, the name was changed slightly to Scarlett Fox and made a superhero identity.

Kimiko went through a hard time due to Kagami turning into her own mother, feeling trapped in and stressed from her mother’s orders. She soon enough runs away, and lives on the streets for a little while until Peter’s older sister Mars finds her and takes her in.

Rose and Juleka’s daughter Daisy, helping her cousin Anna out, steals the Miracle Box from Master Fu and assembles a team of villains with the remaining Miraculouses.

Now, onto the current concept in the fic itself:

Maddie (Adrienette child), Kara (DJWifi), and Lilli were the final group of three, as opposed to Peter, Danielle and Kimiko, whom along with the original darker concept were scrapped as a whole, obviously.

Emma, instead of being Danielle’s sixteen-year-old twin, is thirteen years old. She’s much kinder and well-reasoned, along with more friendly and sociable as she helps her BFF, Kara’s thirteen-year-old sister Kailie in her journey of showing she isn’t all of the rough ‘n tough tomboy act she seems. When Kayla (Max and Alix’s 13yo) moves to Paris and joins the school and Harmony (Myvan 13yo) gets away from her private school, she helps them gain more friends than expected and makes them part of her ‘pack’. She’s also much more ambitious and energetic, and participates in much more than original!Emma did.

Rebecca, Chloe and Kim’s fifteen-year-old, has been through a lot: Experiencing extreme biphobia from her ‘friend’ and more-so enemy Brooke Anciel, Lila’s younger daughter with Marc, facing scrutiny from her soccer team, and her reputation in theater, fashion and drama clubs along with being constantly humiliated in the hotel’s restaurant has really lowered her self-esteem. But with her friends Vivienne and Jade by her side, along with Jade’s cousin Viveka, she slowly finds her way back to earth. Putting her not-so nice past behind her, she doesn’t try to fix her mistakes, but live with them and strive to be better for everyone: Her family, her friends, and most importantly, the entire city of Paris.

Viveka and Maddie used to be attached at the hip, but ever since Viveka started showing her care and appreciation for Rebecca in her hard time, Maddie’s started considering her as a traitor more than an older-sister figure. Viveka explains to Lilli that she still cares for both her sister and Maddie, but that Rebecca very well needs someone like her as a source of comfort in the time being. Viveka’s main struggles in life center around two things: The media refusing to believe she’s bisexual after stating her crush on Aurore and Mireille’s oldest child Andrew, and her going away to college in England soon once her final school year comes to a close. Considering they both have their own trials over their sexualities, Rebecca and Viveka find each other bonding over the subject in question.

Jade, out of all the children in the Couffaine family, has several things on her name: Being the smartest kid in her entire school, a prodigy in the violin, and a regional champion in archery, gymnastics, and karate. But as her dream as a child to go to the Tsukiryu Boarding High School for girls in Japan changes from an old fantasy into a sudden possibility, she learns that sometimes, sacrifices make or break a person. But thankfully enough, her cousin’s crush’s sister/her longtime best friend/wingwoman’s presence alongside her is just enough to break through her trials and errors that come her way in high school. Not to mention, despite her straightforward and strong-willed exterior, it would shatter her heart into a billion pieces if it meant leaving her seven-year-old sister Violet, who’s also one of her best friends in the universe behind.

Vivienne has a whirlwind coming her way too: Just as she’s began growing closer to her mother Sabrina’s new partner Wayhem, they suddenly split without her knowing a single piece of information on what happens. Not to mention, her father Nathaniel’s soon-to-be marriage to his boyfriend of seven-plus years Marc is just around the corner, and she doesn’t have many positive experiences with him and Lila’s daughter Brooke much, as well her BFF Rebecca. But thankfully, Brooke’s seventeen-year-old sister Victoria completely understands her almost stepsister’s struggle, and begins to assist her as her superheroine alter-ego: Dragon Queen, ruler of elements.

The supervillain Red Robe, a vampire-obsessed malice to the Parisians is rising, along with their ruthless partner Seigneur Guepe. But as the new team of superheroes prove themselves to be even greater than any other Team Miraculous to come before them, they join forces with the cruel and insane Brooke and hand over the Raven Miraculous to her, resulting in the fifteen-year-old’s promise to help them out as Shadowetta - when the time calls, that is.

While in England, his hometown of almost thirty years now, Master Fu mysteriously regains his old memories of being the Guardian, prompting him to take Marianne back to Paris as he senses an evil force; one like never before. Taking back the Box from Marinette one night, the duo assigns a whole new team of heroes: Maddie as Ladybug, Emma as Kitty Noire, Kara as Scarlett Fox, Kailie as Shellie, Rebecca as Queen Bee, Vivienne as Wingwoman, and last but not least, Jade as Tropica. But just in case they’re needed, he also prompts Victoria and a boy born of a rich family, Hugo DuValle to become Dragon Queen and King Cobra.

Kara’s dream after so long is to become a famous TV star, and a contest starting at the second week of school gives her a perfect opportunity to launch the new kids’ hit of Paris: Codename: Scarlet Fox. But along with some opportunities to flee to the West End and become a theatrical star with her friend-rival Viveka, Kara discovers how much being Scarlett Fox really means to her, as well the presences of her friends, family, and boyfriend.

Maddie’s dreams of ballet lead to many things, one being the welcoming a new ally, the seventeen-year-old friend to Viveka and Victoria, Maisie Bruel aka Sourisine to Team Miraculous and the other a way to be recognized for not just her parents’ status and her looks.

Vivienne also gains an opportunity after her group and Maddie’s group make up for everything and become friendly with one another: Working as a mentor for Ladybug Style, Marinette’s multi-million fashion company. There, she learns how to gain the confidence she needs and learns important lessons from the older woman, growing into the butterfly she saves the day as.

Hugo and Maddie build a deep and caring bond, soon enough sneaking out to meet each other on Friday and Saturday nights and going on dates with each other and starting a romantic relationship. But as she discovers the shocking identities of Seigneur Guepe and Red Robe, will she put the safety of the ones she cares about and her home first, or her feelings for her handsome partner in a snake suit?

Emma, confused and frustrated with her fruitless and overwhelming civilian life, develops a crush on Rebecca around Christmastime, the person she’d least have expected to fall for. In a forced attempt to hide her sexuality from those around her, she begins a fake relationship with her childhood rival Simon, but soon enough realizes that it’s even more toxic for her as opposed to revealing herself as a lesbian.

Kailie meets her parents’ old friend since forever, Alix, and shares her sky-high dreams of becoming an all-star roller-skater much like she is. And when Alix says that she ‘has her ways of helping dreams come true’, she really does mean it well.

Brooke’s ways of wrongdoing step up to another level, resulting in an absolute pandemonium of hell for those that know her. And soon enough, that results in the terrorizing villain counterparts of all the heroes but Ladybug: Featherbird, Monarque, Honeybee, Tortureoise, Fireheart, Wolfie Noire, Ryusenshi, Hydre and more.

As the chaotic demeanor[s] or Red Robe and Seigneur Guepe level up and make Paris head into insanity, Maddie runs to Masters Fu and Marianne in need of one of the most helpful Miraculouses for a trail such as this: The Rabbit, letting the spunky and helpful Kayla Kante become Timekeeper. But will her ability to see the future from the present show a successful or drastic outcome for Team Miraculous?

@extremely-pearlmethirsty since you need name inspo for your own next-gen (not for this fandom lmao), here’s some fun facts from my original concept that you can feel free to use! For those interested, character bios are coming out tomorrow.

And @ultranimallover33 it isn’t character bios, but here’s some of what happens! I’m not even done with chapter three lmao, but I have so much in store for it already tbh XD.

Ask me questions about my next gen and more!

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thetunewillcome · 5 years

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[Fic] Empty and Desolate, The Air

Relationship: Aziraphale/Crowley

Rating: Mature (graphic descriptions of violence)

Important Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, South Downs, Language and Communication, T.S. Eliot-Inspired

Word Count: 3871

Summary: Ever a guardian, Aziraphale kept watch. Sliver-shafts of moonlight sliced ribbons across Crowley’s face. The emptiness of it unnerved the angel. Even in slumber, his expressive face had always told stories. Syllables shifted in the corners of his mouth; sentences found themselves punctuated with the movement of an eyebrow. Now, only still silence, even in sleep. Heavenly forces decide the best way to get their once-dutiful soldier back is to slaughter his only real reason for rebellion. Their attempt leaves Crowley wounded and voiceless. Aziraphale tries his best to heal him and accept the soundlessness of this new verse of their song.

[Read on AO3] or below (hidden under the cut b/c violence)

"Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,

Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not

Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither

Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,

Looking into the heart of light, the silence.

Oed' und leer das Meer."

- T.S. Eliot, The Wasteland

All was silent save for the language of the garden: birdsong and the buzzing of bees.

The blessed blade slid through skin and sinew, stilling as it settled inside his ribcage. Searing pain burned in red-hot flashes across his chest. Breath caught; lung collapsed. Gritting his teeth against the gnawing heat of the metal, he squeezed his eyes shut, bowing his head in a silent refusal to give them the pleasure of hearing his torment, seeing his fear. A disobedient, agonized grunt escaped his lips as the angel dragged the blade out, inch by inch, deliberately slow. Warmth blossomed across his stomach. Through slitted eyes, he watched his silver blood stain his shirt, drip from Sandalphon’s retreating hand.

Think of something, his mind pulsed. Think of something. Say something. Do something. Or else. Weakly, he lifted his knees an inch from the soil, the start of an attempt to stand. The metal shackles binding his hands behind his back scalded his wrists. A hand grabbed a fistful of his auburn hair, jerking his head up and back. Golden eyes met lilac ones.

“Come, now,” Gabriel chuckled from where he stood behind him. “You’re doubly trapped. You’re not going anywhere.” A pause as Sandalphon shifted closer and Gabriel said to him, “we need to get a move on, before we’re interrupted.”

Oh, you’ve got time, Crowley thought. Aziraphale wouldn’t be back from the shops for hours. Jaw clenched tightly, he glanced sideways at the empty patch of ground he had intended to fill with lavender that afternoon. Infuriatingly fitting that his story would end here, in the garden he had so carefully tended for nearly forty years, behind the home they had come to cherish. More so, even, than Eden, this place was their beginning; now, with one blind step across an invisible line, it would be his destruction and their end.

Gabriel spoke again to Crowley, voice full of arrogance and loathing. “You fooled us back then, I’ll give you that, but look at you now. I knew if we gave you time, let you play human in this stupid town for long enough, you’d let your guard down. We’ve had that circle sitting out here for, oh, months now – concealed from demonic sight, of course – and you walked right into it. So you will die, and Aziraphale will eventually forget why he turned away from us. He will return where he belongs and he will fight for us again, in the new war to come. In time, he won’t even remember you.” Gabriel smiled, inverted in Crowley’s field of vision.

“Never,” Crowley choked out. “He would never go back to –“ Something hot and wet pressed against his neck: the blade. Instinctively, he jerked sideways and felt the edge cut a small track in his taught skin.

Gabriel’s grip on his hair tightened. “Enough. Time to die.” His eyes fell shut, inner voice pleading with him to take action while the throbbing pain in his gut pulled his focus and slowed his thoughts. Nothing came to mind but Aziraphale: the horror that would mar his lovely face when he discovered Crowley’s body, the crumble and collapse into grief, his blue-green eyes dulled under pooled tears. Every speck of power Crowley possessed trembled uselessly just underneath his skin, detained by the shackles and the circle around him. There was nothing he could do.

A tremor hummed through the air as the blade bit into his neck. A breathy cry, foreign to his ears but coming from somewhere in him, penetrated his cotton-muffled consciousness. Nails drew droplets of blood from the palms of his clenched fists. Light was streaming in from somewhere to his right. Metal cut deeper and his voice sputtered to silence. All was blinding pain and light and quicksilver sticky warmth cascading down his chest, and then, a lightening. His hair, released. The blade, lifted.

Eyes flew open and took in the garden cast in brilliant white, a photo negative. A hallucination, perhaps, as braincells starved and withered? Or the light humans said they saw before death claimed them? Air moved around him. A flash: a lightning strike? Head heavy, he folded forward, ink spreading across the edges of his vision. One final fall, into darkness yet again.

Soft hands caught him: one cradling the back of his head, the other amplifying pain with firm pressure on his neck. A burst of short-lived strength. The circle had been broken. The restraints tumbled from his wrists. He was laid gently down in the cool embrace of fern and columbine. White curls. Bright, panicked eyes. Aziraphale, he tried to say, run. They want you back. What are you doing wasting time on me, you perfect idiot? Aziraphale, he tried to say, I love you. I’m sorry. But instead of words, a sickly, wet sound.

“Shh, don’t – Don’t try to speak.” Sweat and tears mixed on the angel’s face, and flecks of gold dotted his skin. Fingers stroked his cheek. His face was wet, too. “I know it hurts and I – I am so sorry, dear, but I have to staunch the bleeding.” More pressure. Waves of agony behind his eyes.

“They’re gone now. You’re safe. You – oh,” and Aziraphale’s tender voice broke as his eyes swept over Crowley’s chest. A hand found the gash in his stomach and pain bloomed there, too. “I know it was holy metal, but – we have to try." The angel's voice was an unsteady song, breathy and full of vibrato. "Crowley, listen, with anything you have left, you need to try, okay?” With a reassuring nod, Aziraphale closed his eyes.

Hazily, he lingered in the homecoming of Aziraphale's face before him, a sense of misplaced calm settling over his body. It wouldn’t work – Angelic blades permanently injure occult entities deep beneath their corporations’ flesh. – but he would try, for him. Crowley reached down into his core, desperately shoving pain aside, and found reserves of frantic energy. Power surged through his veins. Cells divided, mercurial blood replenishing. It wasn’t a solution, but it would buy him time, and it was the best he could do.

Aziraphale’s warm energy flowed over his neck and ribcage. The sharp stinging calmed slightly to a pulsing ache. Weak and exhausted, Crowley watched Aziraphale concentrate, beautifully in his element, until the angel’s eyes reopened and fear took back its hold on his visage. Shakily, the hand on his neck lifted. Crowley read surprise and slight relief in the angel’s eyes.

“An improvement, certainly,” he said, trying to sound calm, though his breath came shallow and quick. “Bandages, now. Ready?” A snap sounded in the distance; gauze wrapped tightly around his wounds, covering rows of stitches that had strung themselves through jagged skin. “Much better. You’ll be alright.” You’ve always been a terrible liar, he thought. Superficial patching was all their energy could do. “Let’s get you inside.”

Tenderly, Aziraphale gathered him in his arms and lifted him. Fresh pain burst forth as his body shifted. He fought to keep heavy eyelids open and caught still images of the scene: evening primroses inching open for the night; hyacinths, named for the one whose blood first created them, dripping with silver; the smudged, broken edge of a devil’s trap in the dirt; a tree trunk sprayed with golden spatter.

At the last image, his eyes opened wide, mind sharpened with worry. He ran a heavy hand over Aziraphale’s chest, earning him a concerned look. An attempt to say Yours? required breath that wouldn’t come, and so he gestured vaguely at the tree and looked up into the angel’s pale face.

“Oh, darling,” and the hold on his body tightened, “it’s not mine. Don’t worry.” Eyes fell closed. “Here, we’re almost there.” The creaky hinges of their front door. The click of the lock behind them. The ten footfalls to their bedroom. The soft give of their duvet. Aziraphale’s presence began to draw back and Crowley shot out his hand, grabbing a wrist that froze at his touch. “I’m not going anywhere, but I can’t let you–“ His voice tightened and he swallowed thickly. “I’ll clean you up, change of clothes, okay?”

A snap, but nothing happened. Aziraphale swayed on his feet, blinking. “Shit,” he whispered, then recovered his soothing tone. “Have to do it the human way, then. But…” Brows furrowed, he glanced at the bedroom door, then back down at Crowley. “Well, in a moment, when you’re settled.”

His vision darkened, then returned as he felt the familiar pressure of the angel’s body on the mattress next to him. Aziraphale moved cautiously, studying Crowley’s face as he settled down and slid fingers through rust-red hair. Lips pressed a kiss to his sweat-slick forehead.

Sleep tempted him with escape, but as his eyes closed again, he heard a panicked “You – Crowley?” and forced them back open. “You need to stay awake. It’s vitally important.” Tears tumbled down Aziraphale’s face, and Crowley tried desperately to obey, but there were shadows curling in around the edges of his eyes. More than anything, he wanted to speak, but their energy had only been enough to stop some of the bleeding, not repair deeper damage. Thank you, he would have said. Stay. I’ll return. Against his will, he slipped into sleep.

---

A sweet smell drifted into the cottage's studio on dreamy, heavy afternoon air. Perched on a stool, Crowley glared at a canvas smeared with azure hues. The paint was not behaving properly, and the whole piece was one more bad brushstroke away from spontaneous combustion when the sound of the door opening made him pause, paintbrush raised. Aziraphale entered, and the sight of him spread a grin across Crowley’s face: he was dotted from head to toe in flour.

“That’s off to a beautiful start,” the angel said, words slowing as he took notice of Crowley’s expression. “I like… What?” A glance downward. “Oh.” A sheepish smile. “I thought I’d try my hand at brioche. The book made it look simple enough, but, well, I ran into some difficulty with the mixer, and then after it all, you’re expected to have the patience to wait for the dough to rise for hours before baking it…”

Grabbing hold of his hand, Crowley tugged Aziraphale closer to him and wiped flour from his cheek with a thumb. “Couldn’t wait, could you?” he asked slyly, and guilt crossed the angel’s face. “Well, it smells delicious.” Leaning on the edge of the stool, he spread his legs wider and pulled Aziraphale forward by the hips until the space between them disappeared. “Still, I thought patience was a virtue,” he murmured as he tilted his chin up and kissed Aziraphale’s lips.

“It is.” Another kiss. “But there’s no harm in speeding things along, either, sometimes.”

There was an absurd beauty in the realization that the angel before him could drown nations, burn sinful cities to the ground, plant dreams into the minds of men that would alter the course of human history, and yet, here he was, settled in South Downs with a demon, miracling dough to rise. Crowley looked up at him as if he were the sun itself, wondering if Aziraphale had any idea of the limitlessness of his power.

As he had done countless times since the move, since the peaceful seclusion of the cottage had made it first safe to voice his ancient adoration, Crowley opened his mouth to say I love you, angel, but only heard a sickening sputter. In horrified confusion, he pulled shaking hands away from Aziraphale’s hips and touched the ruin of his throat. Where there had been blue paint on his fingertips, now, there was argent blood. When he looked up from his hands, Aziraphale had disappeared and the stool was collapsing under him and he was falling, voiceless, back into the darkness of sleep.

---

The feeling of falling jolted him awake. Gold eyes flew open and a second passed and then the pain rushed back to him all at once in a train-wreck of sensation. Teeth ground. Muscles seized. Hands dug into the duvet. Then Aziraphale’s hands were on him, warm and healing. Dark circles had formed under bloodshot blue eyes, and his skin looked frighteningly pale in the half-light of the room.

Angelic energy smoothed the edges of the pain, but it still rang through him, the equivalent of covering one’s ears against a shrill alarm. The hands withdrew and he watched Aziraphale wipe his face with a shirtsleeve. He had no idea how long he had been asleep.

“You… you’re…” Aziraphale, voice hushed and relieved, reached for words that unraveled on his tongue. "I..."

Testing his body, Crowley managed a small breath in, all that his collapsed lung would allow, but the air died silently in his throat. He raised his hand and mimed writing in mid-air.

“Oh! Um, yes, hang on,” and Aziraphale grabbed a book and pen from the nightstand. “Here,” he said as he held the pen out to Crowley, opened to a random page. “Write in the margins.”

In jagged script, Crowley scrawled two words and tipped the book so Aziraphale could read them. “Love you”

A stifled sob. “I know. And I love you. You know that. You're my world, my everything.” Aziraphale’s thumb traced his jawline and Crowley leaned ever so slightly into the touch.

"They’re after you. Go”

Shock and offense at the suggestion. “No. I won’t leave you, and you’re in no condition to be moved. Don’t be absurd.” A deep breath. “They’re not a threat anymore. Not for the time being, anyway.”

Crowley raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

For the first time in two days, Aziraphale looked away from Crowley, gaze hardening. “I’m not exactly sure what happened. It was all a blur. My only concern was you. Whatever I did to them, well, they deserved it, and I doubt they’ll be able to return. At least, not soon. But if they do, I’ll be right here” he said quietly, voice warming as he returned his focus to Crowley’s face, “and they won’t come near you again.”

"Should be dead” To clarify, he added an “I” to the left of the phrase.

Aziraphale winced and exhaled slowly. “And yet, you’re not. You’re here. Perhaps I interrupted them before… Or… I don’t know…” His voice grew high and tight. “I’m not going to question it. You can’t… because I couldn’t…”

The emotions battling on Aziraphale’s face became too much for his foggy mind to handle. Crowley looked away and noticed his stained, torn clothes. With a look of disgust, he gestured at them and the angel’s face twisted in guilt. “Sorry. Any ounce of energy that returns to me, I’ve routed right into healing you. So I can’t miracle you clean, and I didn’t want to hurt you, doing it by hand.” Not to mention he’d have to leave the room to get supplies, and he couldn’t pry himself away from Crowley’s side.

Crowley’s expression told him he was being ridiculous. “Fine, if you feel up for it, I will.” A small, weak nod. “Okay, I’ll…” Aziraphale stared at him as if worried he would disappear. “I will be right back.”

Drifting in and out of consciousness, Crowley heard Aziraphale reenter the room, felt the gentle tug of fabric being removed from under him. Like that magician’s trick, he mused, with the tablecloth and plates. Except he was already shattered into sharp pieces. Not much more damage could be done.

Wet cloth slid over skin, back and forth on silver stains. Humans have been bathing bodies just like this in parlors and in morgues since their departure from the Garden. Crowley had seen them do it, feeling like a voyeur in the face of their human grief every time. He had heard them speak to the dead: apologies, confessions, questions hovering permanently in the air without answer. Only silence from the dead, and now, from him. What power lived in language, to prove I am here. I can ask and answer. Listen. Under the reverent attention of his angel, he was lulled to sleep once more.

---

Ever a guardian, Aziraphale kept watch. Sliver-shafts of moonlight sliced ribbons across Crowley’s face. The emptiness in it unnerved the angel. Even in slumber, his expressive face had always told stories. Syllables shifted in the corners of his mouth; sentences found themselves punctuated with the movement of an eyebrow. Now, only still silence.

Crowley’s presence had always felt thunderously loud to him. Even in the early days, he would shatter Aziraphale’s peace with surprise greetings, bursting forth from a crowd or calling his name across a room. Always a retort, always a bark of laughter or a groan of discontent. Somehow, even when he listened, he listened with his whole body; Aziraphale could read volumes in the shifts of his feet and the tilt of his chin. Sharing a home allowed him to hear new sounds he hadn’t been privy to before. After a night of drinking, Crowley snored. When concentrating in quiet spaces, he hummed to himself. He shouted at sappy films and cursed at cooking mistakes and Aziraphale, who had always lived in lonesome quiet, had come to cherish every word.

Exhaustion ignited into rage. They had no right to his voice, his life. What did they even know of him? Ancient questions? Disobedient objections? He was so much more: faltering bravado, endearing temper, sibilant begging, whispered affection, unwavering love. His. He was his. And Aziraphale would do whatever needed to be done to keep him here.

Shifting into his true form that day had taken so much from him, and he had regretted it instantly upon realizing just how deeply they had injured Crowley. Angelic energy took time to rebuild once depleted, and as it sparked and replenished in his core, he drained it into Crowley’s body, emptying himself again and again. He hadn’t left the room for days, at least. Dust had settled around them on the four-poster bed.

His mind wandered, recalling memories and verses to pass the time, but when it ventured near that afternoon in the garden, he stopped it. He refused to consider what he had done to Gabriel, what it meant for him. If Crowley’s life could only be purchased with Gabriel’s, if he had incurred a debt only repayable with his own Fall, he accepted those terms without hesitation.

Every instinct in him called for prayer, but his belief in a God who listens had withered half a century ago. Still, he spoke. It was a prayer, yes, but not to Her. It started with an invocation, the one name in which he held unwavering faith. “Crowley,” he breathed, lingering on the holy sound of his name. “You’ve always been so strong. Your will becomes reality here on Earth. I’ve seen it happen. Give it a try. For me. Forgive me for not being enough to heal you on my own. Forgive me for needing you so selfishly. You can save yourself, I know it. You have the power, somewhere. This can’t be it. We’re meant to have forever.” And ever. Amen.

---

“Look like hell”

“Just the sight of you awake is lovely, my dear.”

“Not me. You”

A shaky laugh. “Haven’t exactly had the energy to keep up appearances, now. So sorry.” He had lost track of how much time he had spent lying quietly next to Crowley, watching, healing, hoping.

Crowley, propped upright now against the headboard and pillows, gave a fond smile and wrote “Standards?”

“Oh, stop,” Aziraphale chuckled as he unbuttoned Crowley’s pajama shirt.

Crowley’s physical pain was still present, but it had dulled significantly, and somehow, inconceivably, the invisible cancer of the blessed metal’s damage had ceased to spread. It should have consumed him, and yet, it hadn’t. They each had their separate theories – Aziraphale’s strength, Crowley’s willpower, the humanizing effects of isolation from above and below, the otherness of their own side – but neither would ever voice them. Neither dared to question it. And he was still far from out of the woods: he couldn’t even draw the breath required to ask for a compass.

“Focus, now.” Aziraphale placed both hands on the bandage below Crowley’s left rib and closed his eyes. Crowley did his part, meeting Aziraphale’s energy with the little of his own he had cultivated.

When they were both spent, Aziraphale leaned back, their shoulders touching. Slowly, Crowley laced their fingers together. His eyes were closed. A scar ringed round his wrist, a souvenir of captivity. The silence of the room pressed heavily on Aziraphale’s eardrums. He wished for anything to shatter it: a word, a laugh, a breath, even, just the whisper of an inhale. Nothing came.

He tried to be thankful for the silence. After all, the air could be filled with angelic fury, with the sharp hissing of fiery weapons. It could crackle with burning feathers. It could carry a death rattle to his ears, bringing with it his ending, too. The way things were headed, they still could communicate; it could have been much, much worse. Aziraphale sat, warm palm pressed against Crowley’s cold one, and attempted to accept the soundlessness of this new verse of their song.

---

Eventually, Crowley urged him away from his post.

“Eat something”

“Shower”

“I’m fine”

"Get some fresh air”

“Please eat”

An irritated eye-roll when the angel insisted he wouldn’t miracle up food for himself. “Pears are ripe on the trees. Go”

Finally, he listened, disappearing for an hour here and there but always returning, a homing pigeon carrying stories and healing hands back again to Crowley’s quiet sanctuary. One day, as he reluctantly walked down the hall, bedroom at his back, something stopped him.

Aziraphale had heard the first word ever born on a human tongue. When Adam opened his mouth and began to name the creatures of the Garden and the Heavens, a strange and lovely music formed, so different from the celestial language of angels it defied comparison. As Adam christened his wife, baptized his body – bone, flesh, rib – the young angel cherished each vibration. How precious, the melodies of the human voice. Out of that language, variations branched forth, harmonies. Eventually, Babel brought discord, baffling and beautiful. The early ages had rippled with vocal ringing, and as Aziraphale loved the humans, so he loved their languages.

But, oh, no word ever mattered more than this. Its sandpaper sound was a shipwreck, dredged out of the deep, tempest-tossed nearly past recognition, but within its hull lay golden promise. It was a name, just like the first. Its syllables rose and broke over him, shattering months of silence and leaving him shaking in its wake. “Aziraphale,” he heard. A clipped song, a single note of adoration. Spinning, he took in the impossible sight of Crowley leaning against the doorframe. Carefully, carefully, with stunned and speechless gratitude, the angel wrapped him up in trembling arms.

Notes: It's not every day that you write something, go reading some of your favorite poems looking for inspiration for a title, and find lines that almost exactly describe what you've already written. (If I've been possessed by Mr. Eliot, I have absolutely no objections.)

The title comes from “Oed’ und leer das Meer” which means “empty and desolate the sea." Eliot borrowed the line from Tristan und Isolde.

Aziraphale’s prayer is very loosely based on the Lord’s Prayer.

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redgillan · 6 years

Text

One Girl & Two Boys - part 11

Bucky Barnes x Reader x Steve Rogers

Summary: Reader is dating Steve until he gets hit during a mission and dies. Slowly, Reader and Bucky will get to know each other better and turn their friendship into something else. Until…

Word Count: 1,274

Warnings: Language

A/N: *gasps* I’m updating this? Yes, it’s not a mirage. I’m tagging the old og2b tag list even if it’s been a while since I updated this fic. Sorry about that, 1 or 2 more chapters and we’re done :)

One Girl and Two Boys

Bucky’s farm, Wakanda |3 months after you left Wakanda

It had been two months since you decided to leave Wakanda. Steve and Bucky went to Bucky’s farm where they refused to talk to one another for over a week. To keep his mind off you, Bucky kept himself busy making repairs to the farm equipment, chopping firewood and fixing the roof.

Steve, on the other hand, had discovered the true meaning of relaxation, much to Bucky’s annoyance. It was the first time in his life, Steve didn’t have to worry about a thing and he truly enjoyed that.

By the end of the fourth week, Bucky had trained his goats to bleat loudly at Steve whenever he took a nap in the field behind the farm. In retaliation, Steve convinced the kids –with the help of a giant bag of candies- to call Bucky ‘the Big Jerk’.

Somehow their stupid pranks had helped alleviate some of the tension between them. They never talked about you, they weren’t ready to open that wound yet, but they managed to spend more time together.

After a while, Steve started asking questions and these questions made Bucky very uncomfortable because they brought back memories he tried to forget.

“Why do you want to know that?” he grumbled, fidgeting in his seat.

“I’m just curious,” Steve replied with a one-shoulder shrug.

Bucky considered his friend’s question for a moment before he huffed out a defeated sigh, “We kissed under a waterfall.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Steve said. “I asked you who initiated the first kiss.”

“I don’t know,” Bucky groaned. “It happened too fast. But it doesn’t matter because when she realized what she was doing, she pushed me away.”

“Ah,” Steve replied quietly.

Then there was a short, awkward silence while they both gazed up at the night sky. It reminded Bucky of the first night you spent together, making love under the stars. Life was a lot simpler back then.

“And who-” Steve started, but Bucky snapped at him. He came back a few seconds later and threw a little notebook into Steve’s lap. “What’s that?”

“My journal,” Bucky grumbled as he sat next to him, avoiding his friend’s curious gaze. “Just read the damn thing, I don’t want to talk about her again.”

Carefully, Steve opened the notebook at a random page and read:

I told her I loved her today. She didn’t say anything, I knew she wouldn’t, but it still hurt. I don’t know what hurts more; that she didn’t say ‘I love you’ or that I said these words to my best friend’s girl.

He looked back at Bucky who was pretending to look at the sky. Despite his best effort to look unaffected, Bucky was holding his breath.

I followed her to Wakanda without knowing what was going to happen. Losing Steve was hard for the whole team, but us... it destroyed us. It’s all my fault. He saved my life, and the one time he needed me I wasn’t there.

Steve could feel his heart tightening in his chest. He wasn’t sure what to say, but he was starting to understand what his friends had been through while he was away... when they thought he was dead.

If she can love someone like me, then I’m pretty sure I’m not that bad. Tonight she showed me her heart was big enough to love more than one man. She lost the love of her life, but she won’t lose me. If Steve’s watching us, he knows I’m loving and protecting her the way he was.

“Buck...” was all Steve managed to say as he closed the book.

“Don’t say anything,” Bucky warned. “It doesn’t matter anymore. She’s gone.”

“She’s home, and maybe we should go home, too,” Steve said, rising from his seat. He held out a hand to help him up. “C’mon, pal, let’s go home.”

Bucky took Steve’s outstretched hand and got to his feet. There was a flicker of hope in Steve’s eyes and something else, too. He couldn't put his finger on it exactly; something akin to fear, but it wasn't quite that.

Avengers Headquarters | 3 months after you left Wakanda

You woke up with a start and sit up in bed. You knew you had been screaming, you could still hear your screams bouncing off the walls.

“You okay?” Sam asked after he knocked on the door.

You cleared your throat before answering, “I’m fine, Sam. You can go back to sleep, sorry.”

“I was ‘bout to make breakfast. Want some?”

You smiled to yourself and climbed out of bed. This might have seemed like a trivial question, but it was actually Sam’s way of saying: “I know you’re not fine and I’m worried, please talk to me.”

“Nice nightie, grandma’,” he joked when you opened the door.

You walked together to the kitchen where you set the table while he was cooking. You poured orange juice into two glasses and took a long sip as you took a seat.

Soon, the kitchen smelled divine and you were afraid it would attract the others. Natasha and Rhodey were the only two other Avengers staying at the compound these days, but still, you liked being alone with Sam.

“Eat up,” he said, placing a plate in front of you, “while it’s still warm.”

Immediately, you dug into your meal and mumbled praises around a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

“So wanna talk about that nightmare?” he asked, taking a sip of coffee.

“It’s not really a nightmare, it’s more like a memory.”

Sam nodded, he understood perfectly. His nightmares were just memories replaying themselves in his subconscious. Feeling a bit awkward, you put your fork down and cleared your throat.

“I’m sorry I’ve disappeared for so long. You didn’t deserve that.”

“No, I didn’t,” Sam confirmed with a tight lipped smile. “You’d think I’d be used to it by now. My friends have a nasty habit of disappearing into thin air.”

“I’m sorry, really.”

He shrugged. “At least take me with you next time.”

You laughed.

You talked about your plans for the day, which included a trip to the store and a couple of hours at the gym. At some point, there was a lull in the conversation, so Sam decided to ask a question that had been bothering him for a long time.

“So, you and Barnes, uh?”

“So what?” you replied, a little more defensively than you had intended.

“Nothing,” Sam raised his hands in surrender, shaking his head. “I always told Steve to watch out for that tin box. Sad dude with blue eyes and a tragic backstory...” he tutted, “that’s dangerous, even for Captain America.”

“But Cap’s also a sad dude with blue eyes and a tragic backstory,” you replied with a teasing smile.

“My point exactly,” he exclaimed, pointing his fork at you, “you have a type.”

“Maybe, but there was nothing going on between us before Steve died,” you air quoted.

Sam watched you finish your food, a sigh leaving his lips. “They’re coming back tonight,” he revealed.

“I know,” you replied without looking at him. “Nat told me.”

“What are you going to do?” When you stayed silent, he continued, “Don’t forget that if you decide to run away, you have to take me with you.”

“I’m going to talk to them,” you replied. “I don’t want to make things awkward between us, especially if we’re going to be living under the same roof.”

“See? I’m so good, my cooking skills turned you into an adult,” Sam teased, ducking to avoid the balled-up napkin you threw at his head.

Part 12

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#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #steve rogers #steve x reader #stucky x reader #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #redgillanwrites #redgillan #one girl and two boys #queued post

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