#anyways to anyone who reads the tags this far: this is actually the first fic i've finished

[aranarumei]

the anomalous agate (epilogue)

for anyone who has no idea what this is about, go here for part one

for those who do, here's the ao3 link

there's a lot I want to say. the first, I guess, is that this isn't quite over—like I've mentioned many times before, I still have a bonus scene that's all hanzawa to tashiro. but this, here, is the end of the anomalous agate as it exists in seigi's pov, and as a case in the case files of jeweler richard.

out of curiosity, I found the longest case I could think of in the first two volumes of cfojr—case 2-3—and checked the word count. it totaled an approximate 21k, and with this epilogue, my case reaches the same total.

this is by far my favorite fic that I've ever written, so I could talk about it forever (I really might). but here, I won't say any more, and leave the epilogue under the cut:

case 2-x: the anomalous agate (epilogue)

Richard had always liked to read during his downtime. Rather than keep a stock of books in Jewelry Étranger, he liked to cart them back and forth from his home. Once, when I asked him if he’d ever considered purchasing e-books, we spent the next hour discussing the value of physical versus digital media. There were a lot of arguments for either side, but after analyzing the various pros and cons, Richard admitted that he just preferred the sensation of flipping pages and having the weight of a book in his hands. I tried to imagine Richard scrolling pensively through a tablet in his downtime, and the image was so jarring I almost apologized for asking about e-books in the first place.

Still, one of the cons we’d discussed about physical media was the fact that it took up way more space. Despite that fact, it felt like Richard always had a new book in his hands. I’d never seen his place, so I could only imagine that he lived in a palace with a sprawling library. Or, more realistically, a luxury apartment with a room the size of my apartment allocated for his books.

Most times, the things he read were texts about jewels that went entirely over my head, or books so thick that they were similarly impenetrable. Sometimes they were both. Today, though, Richard was flipping through the pages of a thin book with an illustrated cover. It was a deep blue color, and though Richard’s hand obscured some of the illustration, the blue of the sky was dotted with golden stars—almost like lapis lazuli.

This was enough to pique my interest, and I had downtime in spades, so I sidled up behind him.

From his relaxed position in one of the red armchairs, Richard glanced up at me. I must have successfully conveyed I’ll pace around the room unless you entertain me with my face, because the corners of his mouth quirked upwards.

It had to be an awkward angle, looking up to see me leaning against the back of his chair and unrepentantly staring, but Richard made every move with elegance. I watched the way his hair began to fall away from his face as he tilted his head, opening up his expression into something a little more unreserved.

“What book is that?” I asked. 

“Le Petit Prince.” 

Le Petit? Sheepish, I said, “My English isn’t that great yet…”

Richard raised an eyebrow. “It’s French,” he said, and though the words themselves weren’t laced with malice, I could read the obvious Surely, Seigi, by now you must have learned enough English to distinguish it from other languages in his expression. “The translated title would be The Little Prince. I was reminded of it recently, so I’ve been rereading portions.”

I peered down at the page Richard had open. Sure enough, though I recognized the letters, none of the words made any sense. “What’s it about?” 

“Many things. But there was a particular scene…” He thumbed through the pages until I saw a simple illustration of a fox and a boy dressed in green. “The novel deals with a lot of things—it has a lot to say about the world, but one of my favorite moments in the travels of our titular character is when he meets the fox. The fox asks to be tamed by the little prince—here, he explains what it means.” Without hesitation, Richard translated the French before me into Japanese. “‘But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world.’”

“…Tame?” 

“It’s an interesting word, isn’t it?” Richard said. “The fox defines it first as ‘to establish ties,’ but it’s still a peculiar way of expressing friendship. More truthful, perhaps.” He smiled. “Either way, I was reminded of the complications of your troublesome client.” 

There was only one person he could’ve been referring to—the one who’d bought blue lace agate earrings just the other day. I wondered if Richard had remembered the book because he’d seen the same bit of Tashiro’s green hoodie that I had, or because the cover had reminded him of lapis lazuli. But these musings took only a moment; I was stuck on the word tame.

It wasn’t something I’d ever heard used in the context of friendship, but the idea clicked with me. The word evoked a kind of dependency that I felt keenly. I glanced towards Richard. A tamed creature becomes unique, huh? If it was me… Richard couldn’t be anything but a prince.

“What’s on your mind?” Richard asked. 

I’d only recently put my foot in my mouth by comparing us to a married couple, so I refrained from trying to make comparisons. Instead, I chose to bring up a different curiosity of mine. “I was just thinking about how quick Hanzawa’s last visit was. I wish I could’ve heard him explain his choice a little more…” 

Richard set his book to the side. “The blue lace agate?” 

“It wasn’t even something you’d mentioned, so…” 

“I think that was Hanzawa-san’s way of showing initiative,” Richard said. “And it was a rather perfect stone for him. I was not needed for his choice in the slightest.” 

“That’s not true,” I said. “I—there’s no way what you said was unimportant.” 

Glossing past my words, Richard continued his speculation. “I’d mentioned, then, that agate is often dyed to enhance its visual appeal—judging by Hanzawa-san’s reaction to the word ‘truth,’ I’m inclined to think this is somewhat of a sore spot. But what it did tell me was that he was sincerely considering the jewel as a reflection of himself.” 

“…You really know everything,” I said. I’d run into Hanzawa twice, but Richard’s understanding of him matched mine.

“Not everything,” Richard said. “Agate is not metamorphic like lapis lazuli, but its banding pattern demonstrates a subtler uniqueness and complexity. I would think that choosing a naturally colored type of agate, which carries these qualities inherently, was a matter of pride for Hanzawa-san.” 

Pride was really the perfect word—I suddenly remembered Hanzawa’s words about needing strength to be anomalous. To be happy as you were… like Mami-san had expressed, it was certainly a hard thing to do.

“Maybe not everything,” I allowed, “but seriously, you’re spot on. I talked with Hanzawa a lot more than you did, but I didn’t make any of those connections.” 

Richard straightened up in his armchair, obscuring his face from my view. With a sigh, he said, “In this case… I have something of an unfair advantage.”

“Unfair?” I asked, leaning to get a better look at his face.

“Hanzawa-san and I… I believe the expression is, ‘cut from the same cloth?’ That’s the way we are. It makes me feel ill-suited to speak to him, and I suspect the feeling is reciprocated.”

“I don’t think you’re alike at all, though,” I said, studying the mild discomfort on Richard’s face. 

He looked back up at me, curious. “Why do you think so?” 

I wracked my brain for an explanation. If anything, I felt it was Hanzawa and I who were similar, but I couldn’t say why. I could see glimpses of Richard in Hanzawa—something about the grace they made look effortless, but it wasn’t enough for me to truly compare them. Finally, my gaze strayed to the cover of The Little Prince, and I blurted out, “You’re a prince, and he’s a fox.”

As if to prove me wrong in an instant, Richard laughed, his lips curving into a foxlike smile. But even as he did so, he looked like a beautiful, otherworldly prince who could have traveled to many planets before the two of us could meet. “It isn’t that literal,” he said. “Fox or prince; they tame each other the same.” 

Well, I thought, drinking in the visage of the beauty before me, I’m probably not smart enough to be a fox, anyways. “Maybe there’s something you haven’t noticed yet,” I said like the fool I was. “Tell me more about the book?”

After some hemming, hawing, and a promise of milk pudding from yours truly, Richard agreed. He opened the book at the beginning and translated the words before him in a smooth, beautiful tone.

My weight braced against the back of his chair, I closed my eyes, and let his words wash over me.

…If I was ever in Kyoto, maybe I’d get him some kitsune senbei.

-THE END-

[grimmsbride]

▗▬̸̎͞/̄͆̅ ̎ ̎̿͞͞͞͞͞͞͞͞ι̚━─ ⠀ NYCTOPHILLIAC ⠀ ⠀ 𑄼ల۫ thanos / reader

getting caught up in thanos’s web was a mistake, especially when it interfered with your sleep.

𓂂 ͜ᩘ ̵̼͓̥��̾͘𑣿 ⁣⁣⠀ TAGS unconsensual voyuerism (thanos & reader have sexual relations in her bed while everyone is asleep. even though they are asleep, i still put this warning because i know some people can get uncomfortable). ooc thanos (first time writing for him). oral sex (fem. receiving). porn no plot. mentions of past sexual relations. fingering. dirty talk. unrealistic expectations of quiet sex(?). overuse of pet names (senorita, mama, etc.) etc.

𓂂 ͜ᩘ ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘𑣿 ⁣⁣⠀ NOTES please heed the warning above as i would hate to make anyone uncomfortable while reading this fic. with that said please enjoy and i apologize for any grammar mistakes or typos.

Despite different games being assigned each day, it all felt the same — as if you had just stepped inside this odd room, surrounded by strangers that held far too many similarities with you. You couldn’t count the amount of times you flinched or teared up as you watched and heard bullets tear people apart, how their strangled cries escaped in a last ditch effort to somehow convince the ruthless guards to spare them. You nearly screamed yourself when blood hit your cheek, tainting the already sweaty area — which you gingerly cleaned up the moment you got time to.

You somehow survived, in just the nick of time too. You wondered if you had any right to be happy for your victory, or you should be remorseful for all the lives lost today. You pondered it for a complete moment before deciding doing so was useless, and not impertinent to your current situation.

Getting out with enough money was of the upmost importance, nothing more and nothing less.

Which is why you were quick to settle into bed the moment the opportunity arose, slipping out of your socks and jacket, pulling the blanket up over yourself, and shutting your eyes. The world around you seemed to cease — aside from the old man’s snoring beside you — your body melting into the mattress. Sleep was the only comfort you could afford to cling to in this situation, anything else was an unnecessary distraction.

Including the one that stood infront of you, taking form as a purple-haired devil.

You never intended to get entangled with any of the other contestants. You could smile and cheer together, but it wasn’t a secret how quickly that relationship could turn sour. Mixing any type of deeper attachments just seemed like a bad idea.

But you fucked up horribly, one thing leading to another, with you in the arms of a man named Thanos, who said just the right words at the time.

You promised yourself that one time was it, you wouldn’t slip up again. You couldn’t afford to slip up anyway.

“Thanos.. go away.” You murmured, courteous of the other contestants around you. You wondered if the two of you were the only ones awake.

Through the dimmed room you could spot Thanos tilting his head, elbow pressing against your bed as he leaned closer.

“C’mon don’t be like that.. just checking on you.”

You rolled your eyes, growing more frustrated by the minute. You desperately wanted sleep- actually, you needed it. You refused to suffer the next morning, especially since your life was literally on the line. You adjusted your pillow, basically staring daggers into the man.

“I’m fine, now, go to your own bed—“

“And.. I’m also cold.”

You blinked rapidly, nearly slapping that stupid smile right off his face. You decided to turn your back to him, ignoring that soft sound of disapproval he released.

“Wear your jacket or something.. hell— steal your friend’s blanket. Just let me sleep.”

You chose to ignore the second sound he released, which seemed to be an unusually pitiful whine, mixed with an obnoxious groan. You wanted to tell him off for his volume, but decided not to— trying to seem as stern as possible so he could finally leave you alone.

But Thanos wasn’t the type to let up, something you quickly learned the moment you met him. Seeing as his fingers began to graze your blanket, rising closer just so his lips were hovering over your ear.

“But you’re right here.. can’t we share some warmth until morning? You wouldn’t want me to freeze, right?”

Thanos’s words were tempting, as usual. Whether you liked to admit it or not, he knew just what to say. Which is why you called him a devil, a sickening demon with that silver tongue.

You bit the inside of your cheek, desperately trying to fight mind over matter. Not only was this bad for your sleep, you were also at risk for breaking some unknown rule. And if you got shot over cuddling, you would definitely haunt this place like a vengeful spirit.

But in the end you gave in, the reason fleeting at the moment. You could only focus on the fact he would hopefully shut up when he got what he wanted. So, wordlessly, you brought up the blanket behind you; hearing his small giddy voice as he climbed in with you.

At least the man was nice enough to allow most of the blanket to cover you, the rest of your exposed self covered by his larger frame. Thanos made quick work of wrapping his arm around your waist, tugging you closer to him as his face found your neck.

“You have to leave before morning.”

Whether acknowledging you or not, the man just let out a hum, lips treading across your warm skin in the process. With a shiver you attempted to focus on sleep, admitting to yourself that the extra warmth was comforting. It also allowed you to truly relax, knowing your back was covered— literally.

Your hand found the back of his, fingers spreading along it as your eyes settled shut. You felt your self slipping in slowly, body growing heavier as that relaxation began to reach its peak.

Only to tumble down the moment you felt a thumb play at the waistband of your pants.

“Thanos..”

“Hm?”

You slowly turned your head, tight-lipped and squinting at him through the darkness. “Don’t fucking hm, me— what are you doing?”

The shit-eating grin that developed was telling, his thumb now slithering under your shirt and rubbing small circles into your skin.

“Not a thing.. yet.”

“We’re supposed to be sleeping!”

The man was quick to raise his free hand, placing a taunting finger to his lips. “Don’t wake the others Señorita, that’ll be just plain rude.” The circles on your skin continued, Thanos closer as his lips brushed against your own yet didn’t fully touch.

“This will help you sleep better. Erasing alll your worries in the blink of an eye.” He breathed, eyes flicking low as if attempting to see beneath the blanket. Instead his hand did the seeing for him, fingers breaching your pants and underwear; tips stroking your soft cunt. He couldn’t help the little twitch of a smile the moment he felt you release a strangled breath, using two long fingers to spread you open to his hand.

And when your lips parted to speak, his own covered them; a gentle kiss that caused your mind to grow dizzy. You couldn’t help your legs spreading, hand wrapping around Thanos’s wrist the moment you felt him at your clit. He rolled his thumb so perfectly, applying delicious pressure to the little bud that caused you to see stars.

The moment you needed to breathe you regretted leaving his lips, seeing as you struggled to keep your voice down. He wasn’t even touching you much yet here you were, panting and releasing the softest moan. With a quick raise of your hand, you covered your mouth— teeth biting into the flesh the moment you felt a finger slowly sink into your wetness.

“Wish I could see..” The soft comment made you groan softly, hips rising the moment he began to piston his finger. Within moments a second was joining, scissoring you open and plunging deeper then your own fingers could. Your eyebrows knitted close, the pain of your bite washing away with each thrust of his digits.

“Thanos.. please..”

“Oh no.. keep your voice to yourself— I wouldn’t want anyone else to hear how pretty you sound.”

As usual his words held such a teasing tone, face moving back to your neck to kiss and bite gently. Even with his small request the man wasn’t making the situation any easier, especially when his thumb moved right back to your sensitive clit; rubbing those same dizzy inducing circles.

You felt way too good right now, your body practically shaking with how much you struggled to keep in. The thought of anyone waking up right now with you in this state — under the mercy of a certain purple-haired, tattooed rapper — was a thought you couldn’t even imagine without your heart pounding with anxiety.

The best thing to do would be to push him off before things progressed. You hadn’t a clue how far he wanted to take this, nor did you think it would end in time for the lights to cut on. And Thanos wasn’t a creep, he would listen to you the moment you expressed actual discomfort from the situation. But you weren’t, that pain you felt all day, that anguish; did truly wash away in seconds just from the flick of his fingers.

The thrusts against your velvety, soaked walls were perfect— your eyes rolling to find your skull the moment the ferocity increased. A metallic taste invaded your mouth from how bad you were biting yourself, but you didn’t care; it was a concern for morning [Name], not horny [Name] who was currently being cared for by the hottest contestant in this god forsaken place.

“Oh, all this clenching— you’re close aren’t you? Can barely get my fingers out.”

The smile in his speech was obvious, breath fanning against your skin as he urged you more and more; curling his fingers just right to hear your muffled sounds peak into a small squeal.

Your nails dragged across his tattooed hand, feeling it flex with each movement of his fingers. Your mind was growing cloudy, barely being able to register the words that were being pressed right against your ear.

“How about I get a taste, huh? Wanna come all in my mouth, mama.. it’ll be such an easy clean up.”

Before you could even think to speak Thanos was pulling his hand out from within you. You had little time to protest when you felt him grabbing your blanket, pulling it over his body as he crawled down your own. Your eyes slowly widened, realizing his words and actions; a new sheen of sweat finding your skin. Your nerves were on fine at this point, inner mind screaming to tell him to do anything else but that.

However, the moment you felt him pulling down your pants and his lips finding your pretty cunt, all hope was lost. The back of your head quickly found your pillow, hand going right back to your mouth to bite down even harsher than before. His tongue exited his mouth in a long stride, gliding across your wet center, and parting you easily.

Thanos created similar ministrations with the tip of his tongue like his thumb, circling your bud and slowly pulling it between his lips. There, he began to suck, the sound noisy but muffled by your blankets and other’s snoring.

Muffled gasps pushed against your skin, hips rising and legs closing around his head; bringing him even closer to you. The peak that was steadily approached seemed to pick up speed far too quickly, your mind turning to mush.

No more were you number so-so, victim to madmen and their sick games. No, you were simply [Name], moaning wantonly with little care for the environment around you.

Your other hand slithered under the blanket, finding his hair and tugging the soft tresses; feeling them stick between the gaps of your fingers. Shamelessly you rubbed against his face, desperate for that sweet release. Your pussy convulsed with each struggled breath you took, stars impeding your vision as you got closer and closer.

You felt it before you heard it, Thanos’s sweet urges right into your pussy. His wet words of make me a mess, pretty girl— don’t hold back on me now, causing you to tip over the line.

His mouth latched to you, drinking up your release as if you tasted better than any drug within his cross. It didn’t help he was practically praising your taste, a sloppy groan being delivered right into your pussy. Gingerly, Thanos licked you clean, assuring not a single drop was left.

Only when the man was fully satisfied did he let up, climbing up from the blanket and popping his head out to look down at you.

“See, it helped— you can barely keep your eyes open right now.”

You released a soft breath, a mix of a chuckle and a sigh as you stared up at the man. “You gonna let me sleep now?” You spoke softly, watching his wet lips curl into a gentle smile.

“Of course. Good night, [Name].”

[louisjude]

I feel like atp even if there were plans to make bvddie canon theyre gone now. if tim minear is even half as petty as I am he would see that reaction and go u know what fuck you u actually don't get what you want now cause ur acting so goddamn entitled. like when tarlos fans got mad about the deleted scenes instead of appreciating them being released and his reaction was to say "okay fine then I just won't release deleted scenes anymore" (like I'm sure it was mostly a marketing decision but part of me thinks they intentionally released a scene about bucktommy just to prove a point.) idk man it's just really upsetting as a bi man to see the absolutely vile shit bvddie stans are saying and even tho I love the ship I now never want it to go canon cause they've fuckin ruined it

hey anon, at first let me agree with the fact that i do in fact also love bvddie a lot and i still love reading fics for them, the edits of them are fantastic and the fanart is S tier. it’s a great pairing with a lot of potential there IF the writers decided to ever go there but…

huge answer below

yeah, i agree. i honestly think before tommy was introduced again in 7x03 and the kiss in 7x04 that in my brain, bvddie was the most logical endgame for buck until it wasn’t.

i came into the show shipping bvddie much like a lot of new fans to the show but instead of hopping onto the tommy anti express hate train i found myself falling in love with buck and tommy together. at first i was still on board with bvddie still being endgame but as each episode aired after 7x04 i became faced with the reality of the situation (at least the way i see it) that bvddie might always be fanon and that’s ok because fandom keeps ships alive whether they’re canon or not. some of the biggest ships EVER are non-canon (i mean, cmon spirk? one of the OG MM ships?) so it didn’t really deter me from enjoying bvddie to this day. what HAS deterred me from interacting with bvddie content is toxic bvddies. i don’t like using the lil nicknames, idc if other ppl do, whatever, but i prefer just referring to certain kinds as just toxic plain and simple.

toxic shippers have made it difficult for anyone who multiships to interact with bvddie content. while there are incredibly nice & welcoming bvddie endgamers out there, it doesn’t overshadow the hateful ones in my online experience at least. i’ve blocked so many ppl over this ship discourse, which ive never had to do with any other fandom before the extent i have with 911. everyday i still find new ppl to block, you go under almost any comment section on the 911 insta and its filled with nasty comments abt tommy and only caring abt whether bvddie will be canon in s8. people projecting their hatred of tommy/lou onto the cast/crew of the show when it’s be said and proven time and time again that it’s quite the opposite. now im certain there’s bad apples in the bucktommy side as well, but from what ive seen online so far it is not nearly to the caliber of the bvddie side. ive blocked maybe a handful of bucktommy’s for being hateful towards eddie or being toxic overall, but ive probably blocked over 100+ toxic bvddies. i can only imagine it’d be worse if i was active on 911 twt which i’m not (thank god) but i have ventured into the tags before on there and let me tell you, it’s fucking horrifying how gross ppl are over there. twt is a cesspool for fandom anyways tho, the fucking asshole of fandom, it’s a septic tank really.

now im my own opinion which could be completely untrue of course, but just basing my thoughts on what i’ve seen online and interviews and such, tim seems to be really happy about bucktommy and idk how ppl believe otherwise. tim has expressed he loves LFJ and wanted him back on the show. tim showed up on set for the kiss scene. tim posting an entire youtube vibe abt bucktommy being soulmates that touches on the invisible string theory and explains how they accidentally found buck’s perfect match. tim sharing the deleted tommy scene is also huge but im waiting to see if he releases more (because i remember seen somewhere that he said there’d be more?) and if he does then great but it’s also still pretty telling to me after the whole karaoke fiasco.

oliver has said nothing but praises towards buck’s queer storyline. he quite literally said if you dont like it then watch something else. despite ppl saying he’s never interacted with bucktommy content online, that’s a lie because he has liked fanart of them.

aisha, kenneth & tracie have all expressed how they like tommy/lou and love working with him.

jlh said she loved bvddie before but is excited to see where buck and tommy go and then on an insta live said she doesn’t think bvddie is happening and was bombarded by toxic fans to the point of ending the live early.

ppl think it’s all some ruse to make it seem like bvddie is never happening so when it does happen it’s a “surprise” ……..

the nasty hate comments are doing nothing but exposing these types of ppl for who they are and that honestly to them, 911 is just the bvddie show to them. the people who run these social media accs for 911 are looking at these comments and cringing, they aren’t running to tim and abc being like “we must give these crazies what they want!” they’re mostly likely being ignored or honestly, as you said, being looked at and just reinforcing their decision to most likely make tommy buck’s endgame so as long as his schedule is open for filming.

what gets me the most about the hate these types of shippers spew online is how they aren’t embarrassed because they are so sooo convinced they will be right one day and therefore their insane, nasty behavior online will be justified. oliver stark literally left twt because of fans like this, people act like he was joking around, that he was shooting the shit probably because “he’s british and british people just have that kind of humor” which yes to a certain extent but let me just add these posts to set an example to why if oliver were still on twt he absolutely would not be happy with the way toxic bvddies are acting right now.

oliver (and ryan&other cast too) being positive abt bvddie never meant it was going to be canon of become canon one day. they do not decide these things, whether they believe it should or not. a lot of bvddie shippers come from previous fandoms where queerbaiting was there, where they were made fun of by actors of their ships, by the creators of the show! so i understand the frustration but oliver is not queerbaiting and buck is not a queerbait character when he quite literally is now confirmed bisexual and in a relationship with a man.

he’s just not the “correct” queer to these people. despite headcanons (hell even i hc eddie as queer!!) eddie so far, in canon, is not queer. by the end s7 he is still shown to not be over shannon and ruins his relationship with his son over this. ryan has stated in interviews he sees eddie as heterosexual, possibly pushing this because of the influx of ship discourse, and he’s glad to see a vulnerable and deep friendship that buck and eddie can have as a straight man and a queer man and how important he thinks it is.

every single thing that points to bvddie never going canon is like they’re being shot point blank in the chest. i get it, your ship not becoming canon sucks, but again, that is what fandom is for! shipping has never been about how canon smth is, there is 20k fics out there for bvddie and they aren’t canon. they can turn that into 40k, 100k, 1M if they really wanted to! instead they use their time and energy posting death threats, wishing death upon a gay character, bullying ppl online for enjoying a ship.

meanwhile from what ive seen bucktommys are rolling with goofy ass spy tommy theories created by antis and making jokes for our own fun.

so yes, i agree overall. they truly don’t deserve what they think they do. we didn’t whine and scream for a deleted scene. they did. we got ours without even expecting it and are having fun.

maybe if they behaved better i wouldn’t be so petty abt it. it’s a shame because of how much potential it has, unfortunately it is just not going that way atm. and even if it does one day, it is not because they paraded online with hate, it is because that’s the story tim and the others wanted to write and abc approved it.

🫳🎤

[danaewrites]

you with the dark curls (you with the watercolor eyes)

part i: and while you were asleep, i was surely awake

james potter x reader // read it on AO3

word count: 2.8k

summary: “Falling in love with your best friend was never a good idea, but you’d managed to do the idiot thing anyway, carrying a torch for a boy who would never look past Lily’s emerald eyes to see the watercolor ones that had always been by his side.”

tags: best friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, based on the song "dear arkansas daughter" by lady lamb, fem!reader

author's notes: hii y'all, sorry for not posting in a year :P my only excuse is that i didn't feel like taking the energy to actually write out my story ideas. also perfectionism. anyway i somehow wrote this in two hours while procrastinating my college app essays and have plans to make this a multi-chapter fic despite intending to write an angsty oneshot request for a completely different fandom (i see you, beloved anons, and i raise you this completely unrelated fic <3)… the brain of a writer works in mysterious ways.

read it all here: part i, part ii, part iii (coming soon!)

You were in love with James Potter.

It was a fact of life, just like how the sky was blue, or that his favorite dessert was treacle tart, or that you were the only person he’d ever let see him cry besides his mother. You’d loved him from the moment you met him on the train to Hogwarts as a shy, anxious muggleborn unsure of the new world of magic and prejudice you’d been thrown into without so much as a warning. He hadn’t cared at all about your blood status- didn’t even think to ask about it. He had launched himself into your compartment and began talking at you a mile a minute, beaming with every tooth showing once he found out you were hoping to get into Gryffindor, his hazel eyes alight with the joy of making a new friend. And friends indeed you had become; you were proud to remember that you’d known him before Sirius or Remus or Peter did, though it took only an instant after the Sorting for him to become best mates with the rest of them, too.

You and James were inseparable from that moment on, giggling at Professor Binns’ failure to notice Sirius’ antics in the back of class and reassuring each other when home seemed too far away for comfort. He stole sweets from the Slytherin table for you at meals, and you covered for him when the teachers almost caught him pranking Snape– after all, who would believe that sweet, innocent Y/n would ever be involved in such shenanigans? The soft-spoken demeanor and love of everything pastel you’d thought would eventually oust you from the close-knit Gryffindor boys’ group proved to be quite the useful asset when affirming their ‘innocence’.

Not that they only wanted you around because you were helpful, of course. You had quite the talent for exaggerating stories until even Sirius fell off his seat laughing in disbelief, and your creative mind made for some glorious pranks and entertaining mistakes. Peter would blush for an hour straight if anyone mentioned The Great Plum Pudding Incident of Christmas 1974, all thanks to your clever meddling. And Remus– well, he was eternally grateful for your mother-henning during the worst of his moon cycles. You’d been the first to figure out his “furry little problem”, and upon learning that enjoying chocolate was his favorite method of escapism, showed up every month without fail with an armful of Honeydukes sweets. The little ways in which you loved each Marauder meant the world to them. They would do anything to protect you and make sure you were okay, James most of all. You often teased James that he was more bodyguard than friend, with his deep glares at too-forward Hufflepuff boys masking the big softie you knew he was underneath. You remembered fondly the summer days he spent chasing you around your house, scaring your mother half to death with his colander-and-pot ‘armor’ as he declared that as a chivalrous knight, he was meant to save Princess Y/n from the terrible Acromantula King. Privately, you thought James had a few too many Arthurian legends for bedtime stories as a child, but what could you do?

Even now, as sixth years, the bond between you and James never changed, your love for him ever-growing. Your heart melted every time you glanced over your shoulder in the hallway, only to find him chatting softly with a sniffling first-year and guiding them to Professor Sprout’s office for a hot cuppa and a biscuit. You cheered at his Quidditch victories and were euphorically lifted up onto his broad shoulders afterward, whooping as he galavanted through the common room in celebration. You were there when he needed a shoulder to cry on when his grandfather died, softly stroking his hair as he fell asleep in your lap with tear tracks still running down his face. And he adored you in return– braiding your hair while you worked on Herbology essays, racing you on his beloved broom when you stayed with him during the summer, distracting you from your rants about Slughorn’s unfair grading with a trip to the kitchens and a blissfully soft blanket.

James was your lifeline and you his– and nothing in the world could change that.

Except, perhaps, one tiny little complication. A complication with vibrant red hair, sparkling green eyes, and a natural affinity for Potions. A complication that had sparked your jealousy since the first time you noticed James glancing dreamily at Lily Evans in second year Transfiguration, jealousy that had only gotten worse with his grand declarations of love every week. He’d begun to announce his affection for the muggleborn to anyone who would listen in third year, and it didn’t stop there. No, when James Potter loved someone, he loved hard, and that meant that you had to watch as beautiful bouquets appeared on Lily’s nightstand nightly while the rest of the girls in your dorm whispered and swooned. You were a wallflower when he sighed about how lovely her skin was and how bloody talented she was at everything she did during one of your late-night chats in the common room, curling in on yourself with every word he spoke. When he asked her to Hogsmeade the first time (and the second, and the third, and the fiftieth), you observed as she rolled her eyes and shoved past him, despite the small smile on her face.

It wasn’t that Lily wasn’t smart or pretty or talented– far from it. She deserved every good Potions grade she got, and even the pureblood Slytherins begrudgingly noted how she was the darling of Hogwarts society. But you thought that the way she treated your best friend, refusing his advances quite harshly but sending him flirtatious glances and making a show of wearing his flowers in her hair, was rather unkind and misleading. She had James wrapped around her little finger and didn’t seem to want to let go of his attention anytime soon, despite Snape’s protests about how much time he was spending with her. You disliked Severus, but didn’t think he deserved Lily’s bad treatment either. Sometimes you’d see him staring at James and Lily deep in conversation, and shoot him a glance of communal disappointment– before realizing who you were sharing the moment with and resuming an expression of disgust, at least.

At first, you ignored your growing angst about his new obsession, chalking it up to sleep deprivation, stress over your upcoming exams, and even your monthly. But when you started to run out of excuses for the despair slowly overtaking your heart and flashes of his dark curls began to appear in your sweetest dreams, you were forced to admit that your feelings for James ran much deeper than a platonic friendship. From the way he spun you around in the snow to the way he snorted at Remus’ awful puns, you were head-over-heels smitten with your best friend.

The way he’d filled out since the end of fourth year hadn’t escaped your notice, either; you were pretty sure that his pecs should be considered a traffic hazard, with the way you’d fallen flat on your face after seeing him shirtless after a match. He’d rushed over to clean up every one of your injuries, of course, with a touch so gentle it released a whole menagerie of butterflies in your stomach. You’d barely managed to mumble a coherent thank-you before sprinting to take a very cold shower and scream into your pillow with embarrassment. How on earth did Lily Evans even think around him?!

Alas, you’d read your fair share of romance novels, and you knew how this story would end. Falling in love with your best friend was never a good idea, but you’d managed to do the idiot thing anyway, carrying a torch for a boy who would never look past Lily’s emerald eyes to see the watercolor ones that had always been by his side.

That was the state Sirius found you in, broody and lost in thought in a quiet corner of the library. He grinned rakishly, planting a well-polished boot on a nearby chair and leaning over to tap your forehead. “Lots going on in there today, huh?”

You snapped out of your daze and smiled sheepishly up at him. “Sorry, Siri, didn’t mean to ignore you. Just, er, thinking about my Potions essay, do you know how many uses there are for mandelwort? Quite fascinating plants, hones–”

Sirius winced and slid back far across the table. “Oh, no, you are not discussing horrid Potions work with me today when there are so many other wonderful topics.” He gestured to a table of swooning fifth-years gazing dreamily at his backside. “For example, those lovely ladies,” he crooned, sending an exaggerated wink towards them and smirking when they sighed.

You wrinkled your nose and scoffed. “Oh, please, as if I haven’t heard enough about your conquests already. I’m already scarred for life from your stories about that Belgium Veela, let alone the muggle sailor you nearly broke the Statute of Secrecy for.”

He waved a hand, dismissing your allegations of the mental injury caused by his excruciating attention to sordid detail when slightly tipsy in the common room. You made a mental note to charm his shampoo to turn his hair bright lavender for the next week for that little snub. Although, being Sirius, he’d probably just use it as an excuse to sway the rest of the Hogwarts population into going to Hogsmeade with him. “Ah, but darling Y/n, that’s what I’m here for!” He furrowed his brow and stroked his chin in mock consideration. “However, I can’t seem to recall a time when you–” here he poked you in the cheek for emphasis– “confessed to a little tete-a-tete in the hallway. Ever. Which means we have a problem,” he grinned.

You felt rather like prey being hunted for sport. “That would be because I’m not interested in anyone, you dolt!” Crossing your arms, you turned your face back towards your homework. Maybe if you denied romantic interest for long enough, Sirius would leave you alone and go flounce off to flirt with the noisy table of fourth years. “Anyway, I heard Marlene’s been circling Dorcas like a lovesick pigeon lately, so perhaps you should be putting your matchmaking efforts to her benefit instead.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “C’mon doll, I know you weren’t actually thinking about Potions when I arrived. Who’s the lead actor in those fantasies, mm?” He snatched up your favorite pink gel pen, twirling around his fingers as he looked at you expectantly.

Drat. He wouldn’t be so easily distracted with the latest gossip. You opened your mouth to protest yet again when you caught a flash of red over Sirius’ artfully tousled locks. You watched as James strode up to the alcove where Lily and her friends were studying, transfigured a sheet of parchment into a butterfly clip and held it out to her with a grin. Her laughter pealed out through the library as she let him lean over her shoulder to place it in her hair. He seemed oblivious to the titters of the girls around him while he gazed at Lily adoringly. You felt your heart clench as you recognized the expression on his face; you’d seen it on your own in the mirror after spending time with James, after all. And it seemed like maybe Lily was finally starting to be swayed into accepting his starry-eyed proposals, if the pretty blush on her cheeks was anything to go by.

Sirius tracked your despairing gaze to the couple and immediately paled in realization. “Oh, shit.”

Shit, indeed. Your face turned bright red as you scrambled to pack your bag and leave the area as fast as you possibly could, not sure how you could face Sirius knowing your deepest secret now. The boy had no self-control, fueling the Hogwarts gossip mill with the wild stories he overheard, and he had even less discretion when confessing things to his friends around the common room fire. It’s no wonder he wound up in Gryffindor, you thought miserably. There’s no way he’d be able to keep a secret like the rest of the Slytherins, and definitely not from James. It would only be a matter of time before he let it slip about your feelings to the rest of the Marauders, and— well, you’d just have to face losing your best friend for good once he heard.

Sirius broke your train of thought by wrapping his hands around yours, looking up at you with concern. “Hey, doll, wait— I didn’t know—“

You sniffed and wiped the tears threatening to fall from your eyes away fiercely. “That’s exactly it, Sirius, you didn’t know because you won’t be able to keep it from James.”

He looked guiltily down at the table. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a bit of a git with keeping things private lately, yeah?”

You nodded, covering your face with your hands. Sirius reached out, placing them back down on the table, and softly said, “Listen, I shouldn’t have pried so hard. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” He broke off, pausing to scramble for a handkerchief from his bag to wipe off your rapidly disintegrating mascara. “And I promise not to breathe a word of this to James,” he finished.

You looked up at him, startled. “Are you serious?” At his answering grin, you groaned. “Don’t answer that. But really, are you sure that you’ll be able to resist telling him everything?” You fiddled with the now-soiled handkerchief and whispered, “You two are so close, I don’t want to drive you apart. If James thought you were hiding something important from him, it would destroy him,” you sniffed.

He frowned. “Doll, you know you’re just as important as James is to me, right?” At your answering slump, his jaw clenched and he continued on with more intensity. “You’re like my sister, Y/n, there’s nothing you could do to make me care for you less. Especially not asking for your privacy. Clearly, I haven’t been treating you as well as you deserve if you doubt that.”

He walked around and took a seat in the armchair next to you, pulling you in to lean on his shoulder. “And I can be discreet, you know. I might not show it often, but growing up in a family of the most intensely secretive purebloods ever to exist taught me a few things.” You glanced at him doubtfully, the tiny quirk of your mouth the only sign that you were joking. “Hey, I’m being serious!” He laughed, then quieted suddenly. “This thing with James— you really love him, don’t you?”

You gave him an exasperated look out of the corner of your eye. Sirius released a breath and gazed deeply into the space in front of him. “Hey, we’ll figure this out together, okay?” He poked you in the side. “If he’s too focused on the smell of Evans’ hair or whatever to see that he already has the perfect girl in front of him, he’s not as smart as you think he is.” You giggled slightly, his words warming you. Sirius smiled, happy to see you cheering up a bit.

“Why don’t we go raid the kitchens? The coolest person I know once told me that elf-crafted mint chocolate chip ice cream is the best way to heal a broken heart,” he teased. You groaned, remembering how you’d told him that as a last resort to get him to stop complaining about how he missed his sailor ex-boyfriend every time you two went to Hogsmeade. At least your random advice wound up benefiting you now, you thought as you collected the last of your stationery and exited the library.

Neither you nor Sirius saw how James watched you smile up at Sirius as you walked away, holding his arm and laughing loudly at something he muttered. Anna Dumotier, a Hufflepuff fifth-year and one of Lily’s friends, would remember later that night how he seemed to tune out Lily’s voice for a moment and stared at the doors to the library with a strange expression on his face. His brows were furrowed like he was trying to decipher the answer to an unfamiliar puzzle, his eyes widened with confusion and a glint of something she could only identify as jealousy before Lily brought him back to the conversation with a graceful flip of her hair. But no— she shook her head— that couldn’t be right. What could James possibly be jealous of when he finally had the girl of his dreams in his arms?

taglist: @magpiencrow @that-kid143 @lilly-aliyah @itmustbegreattobecalledtheitgirl

comment if you'd like to be tagged for any of my works/fandoms in the future! :)

read on: part ii

[byslantedlight]

Hello OFMD Tumblr thingie, and all the amazing people who are out there, and especially the ones who've been making all the posts that have made me so happy over the last few months. 💖💖💖 First and most importantly, thank you, thank you, thank you, to anyone who sees this!

This is my first post to Tumblr (probably pretty obvious from my huge lack of Tumblr sophistication! And the length of this post...) If you don't count reblogging things that I wanted to be able to find again. I've braved up to comment thank you to people a couple of times, but that's been it so far. I must admit it all looks a bit scary from this side of the glass, even though I can also see how friendly people mostly are.

But OFMD fandom is big! And you've been here a long time! I loved Series 1 when I watched it, and knew I wanted to watch out for Series 2, but it wasn't until I re-watched it when the Series 2 trailer came out on BBC iPlayer that I fell veeeery in love with it! And by then you were already here, and there was a language and debates about things I'd barely even noticed, and it's mostly me staring with big eyes thinking wow, and sometimes huh? and... well, you know. Plus there's trying to work out Tumblr, which I definitely haven't actually managed to do yet, and possibly never will, so... I decided to just jump in and post summat. Even just rambling, which is a bit of a specialty of mine... I mean - what's the worst that can happen, right? 😬

So... how come now? Well, I can't make art or gorgeous screenshots or gifs. I do write, but I'm still hanging out to get the right voices in my keyboard... I know them when I hear them, but you've gotta get the right rhythm going, and I'm not quite there yet, I don't think. Although really, I should probably just sit down and try (and stop waiting for work to shut up and give me time - I should be a pirate and take it!)

Anyway (told you about the rambling...) what I'm mostly doing apart from rewatching the eps on a constant loop is reading the fic. I'm picking it according to kudos on AO3, and according to recs that I see on Tumblr, and it's occured to me that alot of the stories I'm loving must have been recced looong ago, and that newbies like me totally missed them, and so maybe I could do my own recs, even if they are of older stories, and someone might find them useful. You know, if I work out how anyone else might ever see my posts. 😁 And if people aren't put off by my probably age-revealing use of emojis. (But I am entirely age-appropriate for Ed and Stede, and if I had to look up what zaddy meant too, well, that just means I matched Rhys Darby's expression in the bts, right? 🤨)

So it's not much, but I'd like to contribute even just a tiny bit to OFMD fandom in return for everything it gives me, so... yeah. That's my plan. I'll start in a bit, but this post is probably already too long since it's just rambling. And kind of dull. I should probably have said tl:dr at the top, shouldn't I, but then maybe anyone who actually saw this wouldn't, so... See, I kind of live in hope. 😊

Okay. Tags next, right? ... ack ... why won't it let me create new tags instead of just using ones from the drop down...? Well, those will have to do for now... maybe someone who sees this will have mercy and tell me how? I'll just be over here being a slight failure at Tumblr... And if you've made it this far (how long is an acceptable post over here?! Not this long, I don't think...) - thank you hugely for just that, and may your dreams be OFMD and joyous!

[deeppenguinstudent]

My FAVOURITE kevjean fics of all time (take note of the tags).

God, this was beautifully written. I think they captured the essence of Kevin and Jean beautifully, especially Kevin. You guys just need to read it. I love it so much. This is exactly how I imagine Kevin to be if he ever gets into a relationship with Jean. I promise you it's worth it. I would recite poetry about this, but I don't want to spoil anything for you.

Okay, this is in Russian, but you can translate it directly on your Google Chrome page. There's a feature like that. I love love LOVE this trope. If anyone else writes about exchange student Jean, please, oh please, lmk!!

Depressing one-shot where Kevin is on call with Jean as he kills himself. God, I love this so much, I reread this all the time, lol.

Absolute cuties, I adore this feel good one shot!

This was actually my first ever kevjean fic, and gods, it's so amazing. The pacing, the way Jean learns to love other people? 40 000 of pure unadulterated joy when I read this

Party animal Jean is my LIFELINE. And the first chapter had me hooked beyond measure it's so well written!! like genuinely this fic is my guilty pleasure

A cute no exy fic about nerdy Kevin trying to pick up hot worker Jean at an aquarium. Fics like these give me LIFE honestly

This fic makes me so so happy whenever I read it. It's not really canon compliant but who cares?? It's beautifully written and oh my god its just such an awesome read.

Soulmate AU anyone??

Crazy how I remember this fic by heart. I think about it in my daydreams honestly.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17754014

I've used up my links lol but anyways fake dating AU kevjean makes me so happy!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54077899

Jerejean best friends and Kevin Day playing Frisbee shirtless? I'm sorry this was the pinnacle of spectacular honestly 😭😭

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27438619/chapters/67076011

Here's another kevjean reunion, is it a wonder what my favourite type of fic is? Lol.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38524621

This isn't outright kevjean, it's mainly focused on Neil and Kevin's friendship but it's so fucking funny I definitely suggest you read this if u need something light and funny.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50032441

Another outright amazing fic. God this was hilarious. Again it focuses on andreil but kevjean is there in snippets! Kevin basically thinks Andrew is cheating on Neil because he sees Andrew kissing spiderman. And spiderman is essentially Neil.

I think that's it? So far😭😭

[rizatouchesthewalls]

everyone who writes and supports miles smut can block me, that includes 42 btw.

PLEASE SHARE THIS TO ANYONE WHO SUPPORTS AGED UP MINORS (SPECIFICALLY MILES MORALES)

TW: BELOW THE CUT IS DISCUSSION OF P//DO, UNDERAGE CONTENT. (I don’t go too far into detail but I know some people have been affected by it).

elaboration on why aging up (for sexual purposes) is bad

miles is canonically 15 and dont even pull that “he’s aged up” shit with me cause you know damn well on aged up fanfics they use pictures of CANON MILES. so its pretty obvious u have the teen in your mind. and you know what the ones that are around his age are annoying too but it doesnt put nearly of a bad taste in my mouth as the GROWN ASS ADULTS who make that shit.

and btw dont go and say “oh, it’s hormones and plus miles has hormones” and to that i have to say:

1. if you are a child who likes miles like that, fine, deal with that shit in private tho. you posting s*xual content of a minor is catering to creepy adults online

2. if you’re an adult saying that shit then i can say nothing less that you have the mindset of a groomer. You’re not very far from the mfs who say that “teenage girls are at their ripe age at 16.” you as an adult SHOULD NOT be using teenagers having hormones to your advantage and excuse. That’s disgusting.

“they’re just a fictional character” 😟 can you get a grip? go outside. Miles is a fictional character who is BUILT and DESIGNED to look like a teenager. And astv aint that unrealistic that you can say he’s ambiguous. He’s not. And even if he was he does activities that I do as a teen—I go to high school, I’m nervous about my future—miles is literally a relatable teen, as he was designed to be.

“Then stop looking for the smut posts.” I DONT NEED TO! It infiltrates my ASTV tag and at times the Hobie Brown tags too. You act like your tags aren’t public. If someone wanted to read a Miles fic that was normal fluff they would have to scroll through some smut too!

anyway thats all and dont even both coming up in my comments and reposts throwing a hissy fit you niggas r weird asf and can block me. maybe then id see less weird shit on my tag page. do us all a favor and log off.

+ Update: His ages from any other media isn’t a valid excuse. If you were clearly writing for canon adult miles you wouldn’t have astv miles as the icons and astv as the tag.

+ Update: Miles is CANONICALLY 15 in the first movie, and somewhere in the last movie he was YOUNGER. As mentioned above, mentioning other media as an excuse is bs when in the movies your writing for (itsv, atsv) he’s clearly a minor.

+ The thing that pisses me off the most is how ya’ll act like the people who are uncomfortable are weird. Are you not writing s*xual content about a 15 year old on a daily basis? please.

+ Fiction DOES affect reality. Why do you think people have nightmares after horror? Why does a sad film make people cry? Why does a deep movie change perspective?

+ In the scene where Miles argues with his parents, he says something along the lines of “I’m 15!!!” So if you think he’s not underage, you either didn’t pay attention or don’t have google. Plus what 18 year old discusses college that late? (without any other discussions prior?)

+ if you like little boys stop tryna hide that you like little boys it makes you even more manipulative and gross. no but in all seriousness telling minors that behavior is okay has gotta be SOME form of grooming on a more subtle scale. sorry if that’s too bold for ya’ll but as someone who’s been tricked into thinking content like this was okay when I was younger, I can confirm that this isn’t okay.

+ If to prove character that’s canonically a minor isn’t one you have to pull up seven different source materials that barely correlate to the one you write for, that character is still a fucking minor! It’s giving “she’s actually 3000!!!” when she looks 8.

yeah. kay bye!!!

[anincompletelist]

feb + march recs <3

[other rec links below the cut!]

y'all know the drill! as always, please remember to leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed the fic or show support in other ways, and be kind! mind the tags and if you come across something you dislike, please kindly (and quietly) move on.

I had quite a few recs to catch up on - and am STILL catching up on - as I have been MIA with physical/mental health shenanigans as of late (so please excuse the fact that these are a bit angsty skjdhkjhd). thank you as always to these authors and their beautiful words for being a comfort! I love having a full 'to-read' list! :D

see you again soon, and happy reading! <3

+

I've Always Loved New York, Since Garlic Aioli | KingCaspianX | E | 12k

Alex would say that this date is going really, really well. It hurts to admit because he now owes Nora a six-pack of beer, but he’ll happily swallow his pride if it means he gets to spend as much time as humanly possible with the cute librarian with the elbow patches who’d asked him out last week. The cute librarian, Henry, is not wearing any elbow patches this evening, but is instead dressed in cream linen pants and a soft blue oversized shirt. There’s a slight sheen of sweat on his skin, on his collar bones, down his neck from the balmy New York air but instead of being gross, the way Alex probably is, it’s sinful. He’s glowing. Alex wants to lick his throat. Jesus, he could have sworn he was straight a minute ago. Or, Henry asks Alex on a date. Alex, straight, accepts.

Henry's an Asshole (I Want to Kiss Him) | anarchyat4am | T+ | 7k

At the NYE Gala, Henry starts feeling the hazy edges of anxiety and an uncomfortable tightness in his chest. It takes him longer than it should to take notice of the feeling, and even longer to realise that the cause is likely the binder he’s been wearing all day. He escapes the party, Alex gets him upstairs to his room to change, and the rest of the night goes far differently than Henry could have expected.

getting good now | Standinginmoonlight | M | 20k

Alex sighs and balls his hands up into fists, digging them into his eye sockets until he sees stars, and then he’s speaking without his brain giving his mouth permission. “I can’t believe I’m going to marry someone British.” Or: the Love is Blind AU that no-one asked for.

cause you're classic and I'm reckless | @firenati0n | T+ | 5k

“I've, actually, uh. I've never done this before.” At this, Henry stops short, takes a second as his gaze moves up and to the left, trying to recall something. “I've seen your films. You most certainly have done intimate scenes.” Alex clears his throat. He hopes his nerves aren't completely obvious, the slight waver in his voice about to give him away. “Yeah, well. Never with a man, so. Not at this scale, anyway.” “Would it help to, er, practice?" Henry winces a little as he says it, which does not inspire confidence. But Alex is shocked nonetheless. What the fuck?

love was just an ocean (I would drown before I float) | srrafoxjournals | NR | 21k

There are moments in Henry’s adolescence, maybe even later, when he feels he doesn't belong to anyone. He is no one’s son. He is no one’s little brother. He is no one’s partner. He isn’t related to anyone at all. He’s just there really, just existing. Just an entity. Though he thinks he’s realistically always felt this, it doesn’t make itself known until he turns thirteen. Or: moments from Henry's pov

It's Not Rotten Work If It's You | a_stray_thief | E | 31k

After years of taking suppressants to hide his omega status, after the email leak and the election, after things finally settle, Henry and Alex spend Henry’s first heat together.

say you'll see me again (even if it's just in your wildest dreams) | @coffeecatsme | T+ | 21k

5 times Henry is too scared to come out to Alex and 1 time Alex gives him the courage. Or, 6 times Alex slowly falls in love with Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, for exactly who he is.

*I HIGHLY recommend this entire series! check it out here!

What are the chances? | @wordsofhoneydew | E | 2k

Nora helps June achieve her first vaginal orgasm.

Bang a Gong (Get It On) | @cactusdragon517 | E | 11k

AKA ouroBROros, as dubbed by the Brownstone. The long awaited foursome fic. -- It’s late when they end up out in the yard, the fire from the firepit casting all of them in golden syrupy light under a dark sky. It feels like a night for secrets and Liam thinks it’s why he asks, Spencer’s hand a gentle pressure on his thigh.

cut | validvali | E | 12k

Holy fucking eyelashes. He’s all tan skin and bright eyes and charming smile— everything that makes Henry weak in the knees. Pretty brown eyes dart between the lineup and his clipboard, trying to put two and two together, but all Henry can focus on are those arms. Those hands. That arse. “Can I call you up, handsome?” Henry almost blacks out. [or, the five times alex and henry shoot a video together as (not so) strangers, and the one time they do as a couple.]

Silence & Sound | @nocoastposts | E | 2k

Alex tugs at his hair and tries to focus on choosing his next words. He knows that Henry will help him - that he wants to help him. He knows that all he has to do is say the word. Henry stands and steps closer, holding Alex’s chin firmly and tilting his head up so their eyes are forced to meet. “You need me to clear that lovely head of yours, hm?” “Please,” Alex says in barely a whisper. or: Henry helps Alex fill the silence before indulging in the sound.

Through All My Cards | @cactusdragon517 | E | 7k

Alex, preparing for top surgery, gives in when June suggests he not recover alone. Enter her friend, Henry Fox.

I love you (ain't that the worst thing you've ever heard) | coffeecatsme | E | 20k

Henry doesn’t doubt that, just as much as he doesn’t doubt now that Alex won’t have a single issue with him being trans. In another life, when Henry whispered it in the quiet hours of the night, he didn’t. In another life, when he kissed Henry anyway, he didn’t. In another life. In this one, when Alex meets his eyes, all there is left behind them is a cold glare that freezes Henry to his soul. One year ago, Henry had a whirlwind of a day with Alex after a chance meeting in a coffee shop, only to leave in the morning to protect his heart. He doesn't expect to see Alex again, until he shows up at June's wedding and finds out her brother is the same Alex he hasn't been able to get out of his mind for a year - and he's pissed.

Can You See Me? (I'm Waiting for the Right Time) | @affectionatelyrs | T+ | 7k

“Whose turn was it?” Henry asks while Alex is busy pondering the merits of throwing himself out their fifth-story window and hoping his boner doesn’t take anyone’s eye out on his way down. “Forgive me, but I am a bit tired. Do you think you could take it?” There’s no way that Henry’s not doing this on purpose. He makes words mean things when put in a certain order for a living, for fucks sake. Alex almost quips back depends on how big it is just to see how—or if—Henry would react. “Yeah, um, no problem.” There. Much more normal. He could steal Henry’s job at this rate. “Truth or dare?” [Or, Alex’s world gets flipped on its axis during a game of truth or dare]

At the end of a bar | @hgejfmw-hgejhsf | E | 9k+

Alex has a supremely shitty day at work and finds himself wandering into a bar where a mystery man catches his attention.

What do you have against color? | jumpsuit | E | 11k

Upon opening the hardcover of a found sketchbook to locate the owner's contact details, Alex discovers only this inscription: In case of loss, please return to: Instagram @henryfox.usk He, of fucking course, knows who Henry Fox is. That striking yet humorless, rude, and self-righteous British prick he met on the first day of the symposium. [Or, an AU where Alex and Henry are urban sketchers. A short story of how they get to know each other, fall in love and in bed within one day.]

Sunless Dusting Libraries | @itsmaybitheway | T+ | 7k

Henry should leave, he should wait until everyone is asleep and then silently leave, without a trace. As if he never existed in Alex's life, as if he never touched Alex's body, as if he never wanted only exist in his heart and mind. Because that is what Alex deserves. Alex deserves someone who can love him out and proud, someone who is not shamed for his existence, someone as bright as him, not the pale starlight gleam Henry is. But lying there on the pile of mattresses they piled together and called a bed- Henry can not even find it in himself to breathe, let alone get up and go. Betrayed by his own existence, once again. [or: what-If taken by a depressive episode, Henry can not leave the lake house?]

each time we touch / I wanna take too much | firenati0n | M | 1k

Alex keeps his head angled away from the couch, leaning his back against the base for support as he pretends to be engrossed in conversation with Pez on the floor; pretends not to shamelessly eavesdrop on Henry's conversation with some girl on the opposite end of the couch, a classmate in Henry's course on human sexuality and expression. He digs his fingers into the frayed edges of the shaggy rug, feeling the soft strands slip through his hands as he keeps his eyes on Pez. Keeps his ears on Henry, who's sitting behind him, his knee occasionally nudging Alex's back as he talks animatedly, his whole body moving as he gestures; all languid limbs, lithe body, loose lips, lazy smiles.

to repair a hollowed heart | coffeecatsme | E | 28k

Alexander Claremont-Diaz, the young ruler of the Underworld, the presider of souls that have passed away, has been banned from Olympus his entire life, on account of bringing death and destruction wherever he goes. His seat in the highest council of gods has been left permanently empty until someone sees all that he is and still falls in love with the man behind. It's been twenty centuries since the curse has been put upon him, and Alex has long since given up on finding the right person. [Or, a Hades and Persephone AU no one asked for]

+

back with more soon! see my other recs below:

vol i

vol ii

vol iii

vol iv

vol v

emotional hurt/comfort

kid fics

tag for all recs

xx

[crescentfool]

What are your ryomina headcanons? I've loved these two since I played P3 FES, and I'm so excited to get back into the fandom^^

hi!! thank you so much for the ask, welcome back to the p3 fandom, it's always a delight to see new and old ryomina fans alike! 🥺💛💙

as for headcanons, here's a "few" i that i tend to come back to a lot! my interpretations of them are influenced from both the source material and other's fanworks, so i've linked to them as i saw fit! hcs in no particular order under the cut because oops this got long (900 word bullet point list, mentions of reload content up to 1/1)

minato's hair is dyed blue (hair originally brown, you can see it in his roots!) and he has a beauty mark on under his left eye. i like mirror imagery and there's definitely a few arts i've rb'd that portray them this way :) (e.g. this one by feliichu and this one by marasschino)

as far as i'm concerned the bathhouse scene from the manga where ryoji's hair down = similar shape to minato? that is canon to me. this art from xierru is a fun depiction of hair down ryoji :D

ryoji is homeless. everyone say thank you foxmulder_whereartthou for this awesome fic it's why i have the headcanon! but like seriously. we have no idea where ryoji lives and i could believe this.

minato dying at the end of the game is sad to an outsider's POV BUT!!! ryomina gets to be together in death for the rest of their lives (this illustration from mafuwara is a gorgeous representation of them as nyx avatar + the seal)!

speaking of the seal, they are like telepathically communicating to me in the great seal together. (mymp3 had a comic wip with this. give it a looksie :D)

ryoji likes cuddling with minato because he's warm :) (something something orpheus has fire affinity, minato is warm by extension and ryoji is cold because he's death)

ryoji's camera roll is filled with pictures of minato! ryoji... loves life, to me. and i feel that photography and journaling are perfect ways of expressing gratitude and capturing the moments in life that are most important to you :3

my other favorite activity for these two is stargazing- i feel like it's something they could appreciate either in life or death (looking at the stars from the great seal...)! they do a bit of this in the fic eurydice's vow by crescentmoontea (P5R spoilers, takes place in third sem it's a very fun fic concept).

between ryoji and minato i feel like ryoji was the one who fell in love first- and it doesn't really click in place for minato that he loves ryoji until december hits (appriser reveal + ryoji transforming into thanatos). its about the realization that ryoji was with him for his whole life and that he gets him like no one else does.

ryoji is like a sad and wet puppy who is so scared minato won't like him back. he is so scared of being rejected by minato to me like. this boy straight up deflates after he does his "i know i said i wanted us to be friends, but... i actually want to be something more." / "what about you?" on 12/1 ???

AND SPEAKING of wet puppy ryoji. ryoji is like. every animal in the world to me. he's a bird. he's a cat. etc. and also ryoji knows every language in the world ever and uses it to express his love for minato. see this fic from superheroics to see what i mean.

both of them are lactose intolerant. "this isn't lactose, it's milk!" i definitely think ryoji would make himself sick eating ice cream and milk he doesn't know what lactose is. (i made a silly poll about this once and the tags were very entertaining.)

i see minato as transmasc or nonbinary depending on the day (schrodinger's headcanons babey they're simultaneously true and not true at the same time!!). either way he's not cis to me and ryoji is like. His Gender. anyway go read this fic by nail_gun for t4t ryomina :D !

ryomina are WEIRD GUYS TO ME!!! they are so strange and they understand each other better than anyone else because of the circumstances of their relationship!!! if you asked them to do the "i wonder what i taste like" meme i think they'd start biting each other (affectionate) tbh but that's just me.

after ryoji gives minato the music box in 12/31 on reload, minato listens to the music box every night in january. this boy has insomnia and also chronic illness to me (things that housing death does to you). but i think he finds comfort in the melody and memories he made with ryoji.

in general, i think it's fun to imagine minato taking ryoji to places and show him things he's interested in! i feel that ryoji takes a lot of interest in minato's life, this isn't really a hc because in reload, minato DOES give ryoji a tour of the school (11/9) and possibly port island (11/12). but ITS CUTE OK! (tangentially related fanwork: this series of doodles from vinnigami: 1, 2, and 3)

not a hc but minato's kindness is like the backbone of their relationship and i think we would not have the ryomina we know and love today if minato wasn't such a kind soul. oh minato.... we can learn so much from you... like ryoji did!

anyway! that's all the hcs that i could think of, thank you for the ask! i had a lot of fun answering this, these two mean a lot to me 💛💙

i hope you don't mind the links to the fanart and fanfic as well, the fanwork people have made for ryomina have really made an imprint on me! if you want to see more of them, i definitely recommend looking through my tag for them because oh. i got a lot of them reblogged alright 😂 (<- SOOO NORMAL)

[hotdamnhunnam]

✨ Tag Game ✨

Okay so the weekend totally got away from me, but I am now doing this FINALLY, tho I know I’m sooo late to the party 🙃

Thank you all so much for tagging me lovelies 🥹💕 @whatever-lmaoo @honeydewwboo @daryldixonpls @puffins-muffins @songsforthesaints

Not tagging anybody, as I’m pretty sure that most of my tumblr loves have been tagged/played this game already! 😘

………………………………

I feel like my answers to these (especially re: tattoos/piercings) expose the fact that I’m pretty boring honestly 😅

last song you listened to? “Wait - Kygo Remix [2024 Edit]” 🎶 I love the original M83 song sooo much (@red-orchid I know you feel me on this!! 💞) and have also been loving this remix!

silver or gold jewelry? I love both, and often change it up to match my clothes, but lately I’ve been leaning into the gold layering that’s been trending, as my jewelry collection happens to include a bunch of different gold chains and pendants! 🌟

do you have any tattoos? Nope 🙂‍↔️ I’m too much of a baby about anything painful unless Charlie is inflicting it on me lol

piercings? Nope 🙂‍↔️ Again I’m a baby and thankfully there are enough holes in my body for Charlie to fuck already

currently reading or favorite book? Hmm I haven’t read anything (book or fic) in far too long but will say that the last fic I read is Part 4 of Breathe by my bestie @laurfilijames and that it remains my favorite fic I’ve ever read (though I’m currently woefully behind on it 🥲) and that it’ll be the first thing I pick up when my brain is in the right state to read again, and for anyone who’s not already reading it I highly recommend!! 💖

a hobby you would like to try? Sucking Charlie’s cock 24/7 (more a full-time job than a hobby I suppose but anyway that shit would be literal heaven 🤴🏼🍆🛐)

coffee or tea? I love both brews, but tea if I must choose! 🫖

favorite video game? I don’t think I’ve ever actually played a video game unless Tetris on my laptop counts as one lmaooo, even that I haven’t played since back in college though 😆

star sign? Capricorn ♑️🐐 and idk the other info sorry 🙈

who is your hear me out? Well I am a very one-track hoe who is thirsty for one man only (I know this is so atypical of me) — the one character of Charlie’s for whom I CANNOT bring myself to thirst is Bosie (fugly bastard in Cold Mountain 🤢), and his upcoming role in Monster is a whole other story (horrified to imagine him playing Ed Gein 🫣), but among the rest of his roles, I can’t think of any that are hear-me-outy lol… maybe this guy below?? ⬇️ (just came up in the gif search but wtf is this I don’t even know 😂 lmaooo would still smash tho)

[scenetocause]

AO3 Wrapped!

stealing this off @strawberry-daiquiris even tho no one tagged me either because if u can't be a bit self indulgent on new year's day when can u etc

Works Published: 6 (not counting girloscar, altho i think i did write most of that in 2024)

Word Count: this took me an unreasonably long time to work out bc i initially added up all the fucking kudos didn't i. not like my job involves numbers or anything!!!! incredible i can tie my fucking shoelaces. anyway it's 10,999 which feels like a very curséd number

Top 3 Kudosed Fics:

taking girloscar out of the equation bc girloscar who receives 2-3 kudos a day still is an outlier and should not be counted

so far, i've given it up - bit surprised by this, thought the first one in this series would be higher but turns out you lot love lando coming in his pants on the peej

2. that dog in me - less surprised by this, who doesn't want a puppy oscar

3. you know i can wait - feels like it's actually mainstream to want to impregnate lando these days

my top ships and that are boring cus i basically just wrote landoscar and also the rancid pimando threesome.

What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?  you know idk if i'd call it pride but maintaining my streak of being day one on various lando and/or maxf ships with starting the max fewtrell/lando norris/pietra pilao tag is the sort of structurally important fandom work i think of as "my role"

What work of yours got more feedback than you expected? idk i'm always surprised anyone reads any of my nonsense tbh

What work was the quickest to write? i banged out the landoscar wanking on a private jet fic in literally 30 mins before i had to go to work because that's what you have to do when @goingxmissing tells you to do it

What work took you the longest to write?  girloscar by thousands of miles

What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag? lmao it's rimming. damn right!!!!!

Your favourite character to write this year? as always it was lando. i know other people hate being in his head but it's def my comfort zone (and entirely why i started writing fic again back with time thrown down the well)

The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year? girloscar in the sequel to climb up to your lips. she's not actually troublesome herself but some of it is so acute it makes me have to pause and detach myself from her a bit, which is why it's taking me so long to write.

What’s one pairing you want to explore next year? i have a horrid wip that's jenson/lewis/ollie bearman, along the lines of the jenson/lewis/lando from a few years back and that will be sinning its way onto the internet sooner or later

Favourite work you wrote this year? idk i mean it is definitely girloscar but then that feels a bit cheesy doesn't it. but i do love her and i reread that fic a lot, partly for referencing things into the sequel but also because i am genuinely amazed i finished it. i generally assume i'll fail at things because my parents didn't hug me enough or whatever and so being able to look at over 110k words and be like cor yeah i did do that innit is - don't wanna say like a point of pride or something wank but at the very least concrete evidence even i can't deny that i did finish something.

[olderthannetfic]

Why DO fandom olds get angry about TWs anyway? "TW: CSEM" is two words long but I've had people tell me in comments that it's offensive and hand-holding and I'm just over here going, "Bro it's a 100+ chapter fic of related oneshots, the cloud of tags doesn't do shit to tell people what content is where, this lets them know so they can skip this chapter if this isn't something they want to read." But it really seems to anger a lot of people, even people who read your blog, and I don't get why. I wouldn't go so far as to say it 'triggers' them, because that word has an actual meaning, but it definitely induces anger that is disproportionate to two words being uttered in the author's notes.

And at the risk of this being seen as a bad faith ask... well, don't like, don't read is a thing. Skip the author's notes where the TWs are if it angers you or "breaks immersion" or whatever (I would argue all authors notes break immersion and not just this, so if that's a concern people should be skipping beginning and end notes on AO3 regardless). This feels like an extremely easy to fix problem. I don't like it when one author I read spends the author's notes addressing individual commenters instead of replying to them in the comments, so I scroll past it. It's a fairly easy thing to do.

IDK, maybe I'm hardened by years of death threats, rape threats, suicide baiting, slurs, antisemitism, accusations of pedophilia, being told I'm faking being trans, etc. but I feel like 1. this is not a big deal and 2. the back button/blocking/a quick scroll of the mouse is a very easy solution to this "problem". What I don't get is why it's a problem at all. Why is this inducing any anger in anyone in the first place? Why is it even worth raging about? In a fandom climate rife with harassment, queerphobia, racism and sexism, two words letting you know this is the chapter with this in it is the *real* enemy here? Why?

I hope none of this came across as angry because I'm not. I'm just confused. All of this seems so unnecessary and dramatic and I just want to be able to post my fics without drama. That's all I've ever wanted from fandom.

--

Who says it's the old? That's the thing that makes this asks sound like it's in bad faith.

A lot of olds would just mute you for posting a 100-chapter selection of oneshots instead of posting separate fics separately.

[altfire]

WELCOME TO AERMAINH

Book One: RAPTORA

tag: #aermainh status: planning/in progress genre: high fantasy/romance

Summary

One hundred years ago, the people of Aermainh waged war against their own gods and sent them back to the realm from which they came in an event known as the Godsend. Since then, magic has been a finite resource - the blood of the gods' only casualty, metered out slowly, and this precious ichor is running out.

The spoiled youngest son of a governor, Velius Mattia could not care less about the ichor running through his own veins when he drops out of Laryce Academy for Mages. Frustrated with his lack of innate talent and the grueling coursework, he runs away to the capital city of Elaboros to celebrate the first centennial of the Godsend and avoid the wrath of his demanding family.

Ortag Garrok has never left the arid northern desert of Aermainh or, indeed, his own village before he's banished. Accused of a crime he didn't commit and far out of his depth, he travels deep into human territory looking for somewhere new to belong.

On the beach of the Elaborate Sound, these unlikely companions are enlisted to aid a forgotten minor god, Raptora, who has been trapped on Aermainh for a hundred years with no way home. They resolve to help the Lord of Oaths open the gate to the Aviarium in exchange for all that they dream - but Vel and Garrok will soon discover that there's good reason Raptora's otherworldly kin were banished.

(Character list + some notes/thoughts/additional info below cut!)

From left to right: Lioren Florianus, Hermiscia "Miscia" Mattia, Velius "Vel" Mattia, Ortag Garrok, Adaric "Daric" Mattia III, Adaric Mattia II, Caysin Rea. Right click + open in new tab to take a closer look - the image is huge and took me forever lmao. Also the bird represents Raptora :3c

I'm not really a writeblr bc I barely write and also barely -blr, but I follow a couple and I'm super inspired by their passion and posting so I'm. Trying it out. Idk I'm nervous but whatever.

I've been working and thinking about Aermainh forever - I first thought of the name and gods in 2018, and this iteration has been in progress (though on a backburner) since late 2022. I wanted to create my own fantasy world for a couple reasons:

Firstly, I've been writing Elder Scrolls fic with OC focus since 2016 and wanted my own world to play with since I was basically writing original fiction without having to do any worldbuilding, but using someone else's world has its own drawbacks

And second, I want to create the kind of book I want to read, in the most self-indulgent sense possible. M/M romance, maybe explicit smut (still deciding lol), but all alongside the sweeping, immersive world and wonder of my favorite paperback fantasy novels. I'm especially inspired by Scott Lynch's Gentlemen Bastard Sequence and the Nightrunner series by Lynn Flewelling.

Also, I just think big lizard people are neat. Maybe that's my TES-brain disease. I love Argonians so much.

ANYWAY this post is super long and if anyone actually read this far, thank you!!!! If you have any questions about any of this - the story itself, the characters, the world (I have a map!) - feel free to send me asks!!!!

[farfromstrange]

Butterfly Effect | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Chapter 1: Toffee Nut Latte

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader (afab)

Summary: Michael decides to check out the new café down the street and meets a kind-hearted barista who is determined to make him smile. Or, you serve a rather broody customer that seems like so much more than he lets on, and you decide to take the first step.

Warnings: None. Some angst in the beginning, but nothing serious, unless you consider bad flirting a warning.

Word Count: 5k

A/n: This is my first time writing for Michael. This really was a challenge and I hope I managed to get his character down right, but the man just needs a goddamn break in his life. I’m literally so nervous for y’all to read this… Also, I read some fics on AO3 and I watched some more Michael edits and tried to get the Irish accent on his end as right as I possibly could. I also googled a lot. If you want to be tagged, let me know! (Also, if you haven’t tried a toffee nut latte in December, you have to! It’s my comfort drink during Christmas time.)

The sky above Dublin is littered with gray clouds. A promise of rain goes through the news and every radio station with the weather report. There is a storm warning for those in Ireland who live close to the sea, but the city is told to be vigilant for any harsh winds. And as the first raindrops cascade down onto the asphalt, the clouds turn black.

Michael doesn’t mind the rain. It’s not because he was born and grew up in Ireland; it’s mostly because he has been lacking the feeling of nature in its rawest form for years. Eight years. Prison doesn’t treat anyone well, and he knows the weariness after getting out is normal, but he can’t seem to find a way to wrap his head around the changes around him. The world is so much different now than it was back then. But it is less the fact that gentrification has progressed to the point he has lost count of the family businesses that have disappeared and rather himself who has changed.

He lost everything eight years ago and paid the ultimate price. He is still paying for it. He truly believed that after getting out of prison, he could get back on his feet and get Anna back - it’s all he’s been looking forward to for eight years, to finally see and hold his little girl in his arms again, but she is not that little anymore and all laws and rules seem to be against him as he continues to try, try and try, and yet he always seems to lose. 

Jimmy and Amanda are happy. They pretend to be, anyway. Their kids are bigger now than when Michael went to prison, but they’re still boys. Looking into Amanda’s eyes again after all this time has made all the guilt resurface that he tried to swallow while he was fighting for his survival in the dark confines of his prison cell. 

He’s made mistakes, a lot of mistakes, and he doesn’t consider himself a good person, far from it, actually, but he wants to be better. He wants to be a father. He failed to be a husband and that led to a loss he can’t possibly put into words without tearing his heart out and putting it out into the sun for the flesh to melt off while his nerves are still connected to his conscious being.

He knows he screwed up and that he has no right to see Anna again, but he is selfish and there is so much he has to make up for. He can’t roll over and die, he has to try, and no matter how badly his family wants him back in the saddle, he wants to leave the man he was before behind. If not for him, he has to do it for his daughter. He owes that much to his wife, and he owes it to everyone else he has hurt to try. 

A lot has changed around and inside Michael. He is sadder now, he doesn’t remember what it’s like to feel joy, he’s lost, he can’t find his way back, and the nightmares still keep him up. He can’t sleep. The bullet holes are still there. Every corner of his house is haunted. It reminds him of what he did, of the sacrifices he made in the name of his family, in the name of money, and he gets sick at the sight of his reflection. He loathes himself.

And as he finds comfort in the rain, he walks the streets of Dublin with a nauseating feeling of nostalgia eating through the sensitive skin of his insides because even the city itself seemed to scream at him in the same degrading tone his entire life already likes to take with him. 

But he can’t say he doesn’t deserve it. He can’t say he doesn’t deserve the pain the universe and himself are projecting onto him because he does.

The rain grows heavier and he pulls the collar of his coat up to his throat. Some of the droplets get caught in his bear. He should probably shave, but he can’t find it in himself to try. 

The streets are empty. A lot of familiar storefronts have shut down, buildings have been demolished and modern architecture lines the streets. Even the coffee shop he and Jimmy used to frequent is gone now. But instead of a new, fancy business building, a seemingly normal café has replaced it. 

He stops. 

Butterfly Effect.

If his education hasn’t failed him, the butterfly effect describes the power of even the most minuscule change to have a huge impact on your life - everyone’s life, really. Everything affects everything. The flapping of a butterfly’s wings on one end of the world can cause a natural catastrophe on the complete opposite end. It’s chaos theory. 

Or, a nice cup of coffee can change the course of your day within seconds. That’s what he supposes it means. Otherwise, the name wouldn’t make any sense. An odd name for a café, he thinks. But the smell of roasted beans and sugary treats draws him in like a moth to a flame. 

The bell above the door rings, signaling the arrival of another customer. Compared to the storm raging outside, it’s cozy and warm inside the café you work at. The mostly brown interior reminds you of a cabin in the woods in the middle of winter. You’ve grown used to the noise of conversations overlapping, the sizzling of the coffee maker, and the occasional ding of the oven whenever someone wants one of the snacks from the display heated up and ready to go, or ready to dive into it in a comfortable armchair somewhere close to the plants. It’s the work-free section of the café, and it has become rather popular during people’s most stressful times. 

You have been working there for only a few months. After deciding to make a living from writing and quitting your nine-to-five desk job, you realized that money isn’t so easy to come by, so you let desperation lead you to the city and landed a job at this café that, at the time, had just opened. You were miserable at first because nothing was going your way, but you learned how to live with it because quite frankly, the place is nicer than you thought. After putting aside the pessimism, you found somewhat of an optimist inside of you, and that’s something you never thought you’d say.

The café is now your favorite place to be. It’s not a coffee shop because the main purpose isn’t to sell as many coffees to go; the place is perfectly decorated for people to stay and drink inside (and outside in summer). You get the occasional walk-ins, but most people stay for the atmosphere, and you can’t blame them.

It’s busy most of the time, there is a lot of work, and the stress wears you down and often takes the inspiration to create something outside of work away from you, but it’s not every day that a stable job comes with nice people and a nice ambiance. It’s better than staring at a computer screen all day, anyway. 

You wouldn’t call yourself ‘the norm’. You’re a mess most of the time, you still can’t make doctor’s appointments without rehearsing your speech a million times beforehand, and doing the dishes isn’t your favorite thing to do, but you have a routine. You have friends. You’re as happy as you can be, and you only find yourself having an existential crisis every two days now rather than every hour, which seems to be a big improvement that should be celebrated. You’re a mess, but you stand by it. 

Most people would have given up their dreams by now, but you have always been a dreamer, it keeps you alive, so giving up and returning to a life that doesn’t make you happy is not a decision that is even open for discussion. So many people have told you and keep telling you that you are never going to make it, but in your mind, you’re right where you want to be because that is where you can be, and everything else will come with time. 

Even the smallest changes can lead to a sudden 180-turn in your life. Butterfly Effect. The place of your employment seems to be a little too on the nose with their name. 

A rainy day usually means a lot of work for you, but you don’t let that sway you from admiring the beauty of Dublin hulled in gray in the afternoon. 

The bell above the door rings and you look up. The man that walks in is wearing a sweater as dark as the weather, but it’s green and it reminds you more of a sad field than the gray clouds in the sky. His hair is dark though, and the dark strands of his beard surround a mouth that looks like it hasn’t smiled in a while. 

He’s absolutely beautiful. 

The stranger approaches you and the air gets stuck in your lungs. He eyes the menu, his brown eyes narrowing to get a closer picture of the writing - it’s yours. You updated the signs this morning, and you paid close attention to detail. You wonder if it was too much, your cheeks starting to burn bright red, ready to apologize and read it to him, but then he finally nods and steps up to the counter. 

“Hi,” you say, your voice higher than usual, “Welcome to the Butterfly Effect! What can I get for you today?”

Your voice is like a breath of fresh air. Michael’s eyes fall on you, and he is instantly captivated by the force of your smile. It’s almost unfair how kind you seem, your little apron fitting perfectly around your waist and your hair only tied up enough to keep your face visible to the public. You’re open, painfully so; he suddenly feels like a smudge of black on a colorful canvas, and that canvas is you. Your smile is welcoming, it draws him in, but he doesn’t want to come closer. It’s light like yours that often gets ruined by the likes of him. 

“Just a double espresso,” he says. It’s his old regular. 

Compared to the volume of the bustling café, he’s quiet, but you still hear every word. There is a low vibrato to the way he speaks, and the new sensation makes you shiver. You have seen many people around here, it has become a favorite spot for people to hang out, but he’s a total stranger. And he’s different from the usual clientele that comes in. He’s mysterious, but he’s not dark. You wouldn’t describe him that way. He fits in with the furniture, you realize, and he would definitely make a cozy accessory.  

If only he could see himself the same way. It’s not hard to tell that he doesn’t, or he wouldn’t carry himself the way he does. You can almost smell the sadness radiating off of him, and the lack of a smile makes you feel almost sad with him. And of course, for him. 

“A double espresso?” you question. 

Your curiosity is piqued. 

He’s not sure why you sound like you’re insinuating something. Are you… judging him?

Michaels shifts from one foot to the other and says, “Yeah. A double espresso.”

“You know we have other options, right?”

He does. He can see the menu. His frown deepens. He finds himself taken aback by your candidness. He lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “It’s what I usually order. If ya don’t have any, I can look for somethin’ else.” 

You smile a little at his shyness. He’s on the completely wrong path when it comes to interpreting your intentions. It’s not like you’re judging him, not at all, but there is more to him, there has to be. Every person has a story. You work with people every day, you’ve encountered rare personalities and yet there are always those who exceed your expectations. Michael seems to be one of those very people. 

You can’t explain how you know, it’s merely a feeling, but your feelings are hardly ever wrong. You’ve been working in customer service for a while, and it comes with a certain sense of how people tick, what they’re like, and it makes you speculate about who they are inside, too. It’s what you’ve been doing from the beginning. At first, you felt bad, but you soon realized you aren’t doing anything harmful by observing. You are just studying human beings in their natural habitat, and it truly helps you get a better sense of who people are.

Coffee is the first indicator of the kind of person someone is. Unique coffee doesn’t instantly mean you are an adventurer unless there is something about you that would suggest it, just like the way you would order it or the kind of toppings you prefer. Keeping that in mind, ordering a double espresso also doesn’t mean you’re basic or ‘normal’ just because many people drink it; it’s the kind of person you see before you combined with the order that paints you a picture of who the person is.

You brew coffee for other people and make a living with that, so of course, coffee is something you judge based on. Sometimes, you memorize coffee orders simply to get to know the regulars that come in. People-watching is by far your favorite activity. 

With Michael, it’s not just the coffee that gives it away though. The second he opened his mouth, you knew. Even though your conversation runs based on customer and service provider, the air between you and the way he carries himself intrigues you because you have to admit, it’s not often you feel this starstruck by a random man coming into your place of work and ordering a boring double espresso.

But he isn’t just a random man, is he? 

The aura that consumes him and the clouds that follow him – they’re a testament to something else, something you don’t know about but that inevitably draws you in. He’s a magnet, almost. He shows so much without actually showing it, and he doesn’t even seem to know it. Perhaps that’s why he looks so surprised at your open and affectionate nature. He’s not used to people being nice to him. A lot of people that come into the café aren’t, but he surely is the most conflicted one. It’s a gut feeling that drives you.

“Oh no, that’s not what I meant!” you quickly assure him. “I get it, believe me. But let me let you in on a secret–“ You look deep into his eyes, and it’s enough to crack his foundation just a little. 

You meet his eyes and Michael gets flustered. Eye contact has become a means to intimidate, but the way you look at him is far from that. It’s different. He licks his lip and hopes you can’t see too clearly that you have caught him off guard.

Well, needless to say, you have. The second you meet his beautiful eyes that appear almost black in the dim light of the room, you see his stern expression falter and a sense of humanity flashing through. It’s a broken, painful sliver of humanity, but it’s human nonetheless. 

Shaking off the whirlwind of thoughts that almost turns you mute, you regain your composure. “We have this new toffee nut latte on the menu that tastes best with a little caramel and cinnamon on top,” – you point to the sign above your head – “You strike me as the kind of guy that could use more than just a boring espresso, especially on a day that’s already darker than our furniture,” you say before quickly adding, “No offense.”

Michael catches himself before he can lose all of his dignity. He chuckles awkwardly, looks away, then looks at you again. His eyes roam your face, then the sign behind you. He’s never been more grateful to his beard for hiding most of the blush on his pale cheeks. When he meets your eyes again, you’re still staring at him, and your smile is contagious.

You look so cute like this, with your apron and the butterfly clip that holds your name in place. Michael finds himself smiling at you, but it’s not because he’s nervous or shy – okay, maybe it’s because he is shy – but it’s because you are smiling at him so brightly, he forgets his name and he forgets what air feels like. His lips naturally curl up and mirror your expression, and he swears he can feel the blush rising to his head. A spark of warmth ignites in his eyes that was dormant for far too long. 

Whatever you’re doing to him, it’s working, and you’ve barely talked. 

I actually quite like the furniture, he thinks to himself, but the words wouldn’t find their way onto his lips. 

“None taken,” he says instead. 

You let out a sigh of relief. It’s hard to place the expression on his face, but his smile offers a lovely sight. “Oh, good. With gentrification and everything I really can’t afford scaring off a paying customer because of a toffee nut latte that you could get at Starbucks for twice the price. So,” you say, and you once again bite yourself in the ass for the inappropriate joke. 

Why are you still talking? You were so confident, so in your element, but now he has you blushing again and rambling like a teenager. If your boss were to hear any of the things you just said to the poor man, you would probably end up having a lengthy conversation about etiquette. 

You bite your cheek and close your eyes. “I’m so sorry, I should probably stop talking now. Just pretend you didn’t hear any of that. I really need this job. You probably think I’m crazy now.” 

Michael’s lip twitches again, much to his own surprise. “That depends, are ya tryin’ to sell me on overpriced or good coffee?” he asks. 

You feign a gasp. “Good coffee, of course!” You pause before adding with a wink, “Or so I’m supposed to say.”

You should shut up, but how can you when he is teasing you so effortlessly?

“That was a joke. Our coffee is excellent, and I’m not just saying that… okay, so, I’m mad, huh? That’s what you think. It’s official.”

He chuckles, his hand raising slightly as if to calm you down. Perhaps you have started talking a little fast, but rambling comes unfairly naturally. It’s your defense mechanism.

“I don’t think yer mad,” he says.

A blush spreads across your cheeks at the soft tone of his voice. He’s not as stressed as most of your customers; there is a calm amidst the storm.

“But if yer gonna rob me of five quid for a latte,” Michael adds, and there he goes again, teasing, “ya might as well get me an extra shot of espresso with that or I’ll start thinkin’ that ya are. Wouldn’t be good for business, would it?”

His words elicit a small giggle from you. “You can have as many as you like. On the house. But only today.”

You also shouldn’t be doing that, there’s a reason you’re supposed to charge for any particular changes like extra espresso or extra whipped cream, but you’re not thinking rationally anymore. Years of customer service training seem to be gone all of a sudden.

He shrugs again. “Just one’d be grand, thanks.”

“So, one toffee nut latte?” You meet his eyes. They remind you of ground coffee beans. You wonder if he smells the same, or if he smells like the rain outside mixed with the distinctive scent of wet grass in the air. You can't explain why the thought crosses your mind, but as soon as it settles in, it refuses to leave. “Or did I get that wrong?” you ask to clarify. 

Michael shakes his head. “That’s right.”

“Okay”

He nods to the pile of paper cups next to the register. “Actually, could I get that to go?” he asks. “Please?”

“Sure,” you reach for the cup, “I can make that happen. One more thing though, and then I’ll leave you alone. Can I get your name?”

He frowns.

“For the order,” you add.

“Oh, right. Name’s Michael.”

“Michael…” His name is just as beautiful as him. You use the Sharpie next to the register to write his name in bold letters onto the coffee cup. “I hope I got that right,” you murmur more to yourself than him, but he hears you nonetheless.

His eyes crinkle in the corners from how hard he's smiling. The glint they’re carrying is just as teasing as before. On the counter, his fingers start patting a steady rhythm. “If ya wrote it with a k, yer wrong,” he says.

“I didn’t,” you say.

“Then you’re good.”

You try not to pass away from the sight of his smile or the subtle praise he throws your way.

You eye him and hesitate before moving a line lower and adding, 

“You have a nice smile :)”

You consider putting your number as well, but that would be too much of a bold move, even for you, so you leave it be. You’re not even sure if he is as intrigued as you are; you develop crushes fairly easily, and it’s worse when hot men come in during tea time and order a coffee from you. You don’t want to creep him out, you just want to be nice. You want to make his day. He seems like the kind of guy that could use a pick-me-up, and you have your work cut out for you. 

Handing the cup over to your colleague, you return your attention to the man before you. “Anything else you’d like, Michael?” you ask. 

Swiftly taken aback by you saying his name so casually as if you’ve known each other for a while and he didn’t just walk into a café on a normal rainy day in Dublin like any other person around you but that you’re actually long-lost friends, he snaps out of it and shakes his head. 

You can tell he’s not that much of a talker, so you accept his soft ‘thank you’, and name the total. He hands you the money, and he tips graciously.

Michael isn’t even sure why he does it, but then your eyes light up even more and he realizes that’s why. He wants to see you happy. He wants to brand your face into his brain with a hot iron. 

The question ‘What the fuck is wrong with ya?’ Nudges him. ‘Stop it.’

He wants to, but he can’t.

You put the tip into your jar and offer him another smile, but this time your eyes are the ones holding the playful glint. “Well, thank you, good sir!” you say.

There can’t be much wrong with him. You are the kind of person many people would feel drawn to. He just doesn’t like the way it makes him feel.   

He looks away. “Sure. See ya,” he says, and when he turns around to pick up his order at the counter a few steps over, he reads the name on your nametag and calls your name most deliciously. 

You shudder. 

“That’s…” you peek at your name tag. “That’s my name.”

He said your name. Good God you feel like such a teenager.

Did you make the right decision by writing him that note? You’re not sure, but you hope he gets your hint and comes back because he has proven to be quite something else – someone else – and you’d be damned to let that beautiful stranger slip through your fingers like any other man you could have had in the past.

It’s just something about Michael that has you yearning for more. Something that entices you and pulls you in. Maybe it’s the mystery that surrounds him or the dark cloud that you seem to have been able to clear for just a moment, but you could see the rainbow following the rain. Someone just has to shine enough light on him to make him smile again.

As you look to your right, your co-worker casts you a knowing glance. She smirks, her arms crossed over her chest. “You have a nice smile,” she quotes. 

You roll your eyes. 

“Do you write that on all customers’ cups or just this lad?”

“Sarah,” you warn.

“I mean, he’s hot, but come on! What was that?”

You can tell she’s trying hard not to laugh at you, and you are this close to smacking her in the head with the whisk closest to you. For a moment, you consider it. 

“You need to get out more,” she says. “Learn how to flirt properly. That was just sad to watch.”

“Oh, fuck off!” you say, but the tone of your voice is playful.

You know the note was a pathetic attempt at flirting, and chances are he won’t reciprocate them, but at least you can sleep better at night knowing you’ve made his day better because you made him smile, and that usually goes a long way on a bad day. 

Michael, at first overwhelmed by the sweet taste of his coffee, quickly comes to the decision that he likes whatever drink you made him buy. It reminds him of Christmas, of simpler times, and it makes him feel warm inside.

He likes his coffee strong, you took note of that. While he can taste the espresso clear as day, the sweet hints of cinnamon and caramel mixed with the warm foam and whipped cream explode on his tongue. He would have never ordered it if you hadn’t recommended it, that’s for sure, but the different tastes blend perfectly and don’t take away the essence of what he truly likes about the double espresso he usually orders. It’s different, but it reminds him of home. 

The latte itself isn’t what causes him to pause though. It’s the written words underneath his name. Your handwriting is unique, fitting for someone like you, but he has no trouble deciphering it. 

“You have a nice smile :)”

The compliments he receives are usually comments made by his family, and they’re never that special. Not that Michael would consider himself special, anyway. He can’t remember the last time someone complimented his smile; his smile had never been the center of anyone’s attention before. Until now. He’s flirted with women, he’s been around, but the purity of your compliment paired with the carefully drawn smiley face next to your note feels different than where his conversations usually lead.  

He looks over his shoulder into the café where he sees you leaning over the counter through the runny glass of the window, a lolli in your hand as you hand it to a little girl. Your interaction flows effortlessly, just as it did with him. 

The child points to the butterfly clip that keeps your name tag in place. You reach into the pocket of your apron and find a spare clip to hand her. The girl’s face lights up and you look even happier than before. It's a smile not many people have, and a power that even seems to enchant children. 

The mother seems a lot more relaxed now that she’s talking to you. Michael begins to wonder if maybe your smile is the butterfly effect and not the coffee itself. Maybe you are the reason so many people come to the café. You offer solace, a smile, and some hot coffee. It’s every stressed person’s dream, he thinks, to be served by someone like you.

The rain cascades down on his tired features, but he’s not cold. He has his coffee and he has the thought of your smile etched into his brain, and there is something about you that won’t allow him to forget, no matter how hard he tries. 

He glances back down at the note, his lips curling into another smile. If someone passed by him and would ask him why, he wouldn’t even know what to answer. Is he smiling because of the note or because of you? Or is it the taste of something new? Or maybe he has just gone insane, he’s not sure anymore. 

The short moment of relief he felt inside the café is gone and instead replaced by the familiar feeling of dread. The gray of the clouds returns to his soul, and the light you have tried to light in his heart has gone out. The smile turns bittersweet before it dies on his lips, but then he looks back at you through the window, the rain turning your face blurry, and he wants nothing more than to scream at the clouds to go away. 

Michael is too weak to fight what’s eating him inside. It’s inevitable. People around him get hurt and he hurts himself in the process. He would be foolish to think otherwise.

But then there’s you. You are a kind-hearted breath of fresh air. You are good with people. You seem like the kind of person who could never do something bad. You’re an Angel. You’re the complete opposite of him, and opposites attract. It’s a treacherous feeling and it’s dangerous, but he can’t help it. 

A minute it took for you to make him smile. If that is not a record that piques his interest, he’s not sure what is. Not that he would admit his reason for going back to be your smile or the lovely note you have left on his coffee cup. He likes to think it’s the toffee nut latte and the ambiance, but deep down, even Michael knows that is not the reason he is truly smiling. 

Coffee has become his new favorite drink and he knows exactly where to get his fix. 

Tagging: @bellaxgiornata @loveroftoomanyfandoms @acharliecoxedfan @lina-mar @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella

[honeyhotteoks]

i think a bit back you mentioned not being open to fic recommendations (and im not entirely sure if you read member/member fics) but you mentioned how close to your heart priest yunho is and it would be literal sin if i did not even mention this regency era, clergy, omegaverse, angst hurt-comfort yungi fic i read. its a wild set of tags (and honestly thats what drew me in ugh) but i promise it all works out. genuinely has some of the most gut wrenching lines on earth, ala "my love for god was shaped my love for you." which like ow that hurts! i wont link it cuz id hate to feel pushy but again, sin to not mention it

also i think you should reblog whatever you like - it is your blog at the end of the day and if you would like to mix fandoms i say go for it! your recommendations have always been fun so i trust you

hi hi! first off..... please my god send me that?????

also as far as fic recs go..... i'm super open to them actually, i just feel a little bad if someone recs me something that i didn't like or wasn't super into it, especially if i don't repost it. but that's probably me being an overthinker lol, so i'm okay if people send me recs i just don't want anyone to be bummed if i don't get to it or don't share it out if it's not my fave.

the other thing is that i used to get a lot of people popping up in my DMs/asks to share their own writing with me, which sounds really nice but ultimately ended up being the person asking for feedback or workshopping advice, which is something i'm not comfortable doing. i certainly support other writers, but i'm not the kind of fic writer who does beta work / workshopping anymore, it's way too much of a time sink unfortunately

but i def read member/member, though i do have "ships" i prefer more than others tbh. if i'm reading ships it's mostly yunho paired with anyone (lol) or woosan or sanhwa. i just don't write member/member exclusively b/c i feel a little more comfortable writing from pov or afab perspective.

anyways, thanks so much for sending this because i def want to read it!! also just wanted to use this to clarify a couple things so other people feel comfortable sending stuff in too. ty!!

[spaceorphan18]

WIP ASK ME GAME

I was tagged by @bitbybitwrites (thank you dear) who has a lovely header - I wish I was savvy enough with such things to have a banner for writing. <3

Anyway, here's where I am at with writing (and you guys are always welcome to come chat with me about them) but more so, an update for anyone who is interested.

WIPs I'm Actually Working On (in order of priority)

Head Over Feet - The canon divergent post-Season 5 reunion fic I always wanted to write. All of my writing got sidelined during my unfortunate excursion to Indiana last year, but now I'm back writing pretty regularly. I'm hoping to have the next chapter out maybe next week-ish. I've loved writing this one, as I've had the idea for this in one form or another for a long, long time.

In The City That We Love - Tells the story of the year leading up to what we see in the flashforward at the end of Season 6, and based on a sketch I wrote years ago for the 'last' season of the show. They're kind of individual stories tied together, and I've only written the first 'chapter' but I do plan on getting to this once I wrap Head Over Feet

The Spaces In-Between - The Following Kurt Through Cannon fic that I've been picking away at for years now. I know I'm not far, but I have an idea for this one that will follow a long with a giant rewatch and analysis of the show. I just need to get organized...

The CrossRhodes Saga - This is my mystery/noir fic where Kurt is a detective looking in on sketchy happenings at a bar run by Santana. I think I may revamp the first few chapters and start clean with it, but I really would like to get back to it once my other big things are done.

The Smut Challenge - I mean it is what it says on the tin. I feel like I should get back to this every once in a while just to keep it going. I feel like it'd be an impressive feat just to write 365 mini fics of porn.

And that's what I've got for now.

I have no new ideas, but as I was originally thinking of wrapping up my fic writing days in order to focus on some original fiction. But who knows -- I'm already thinking I'd miss writing fic if I stopped, so I'm kind of hoping I get a new big idea....

I think most of the people I know have already been tagged but please do this if you're reading it!