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mrprettywhenhecries · 25 days ago

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i don’t think you notice (what you did to me) [b.h]

one. | the new arrival

Billy Hargrove ✘ Win Lewis (oc)

✗ w.c. 2.9k words ✗ warning(s). canon x oc pairing, f!oc, suggestive language, smoking ✗ a/n: I decided to update/rewrite parts of this fic, and repost it, changing it to eventual Billy/oc/Steve further down the line in a completely self-indulgent move. Most of the major changes will begin in part two, but there will be slight changes/additions in these next few chapters, and hopefully some of ya'll will still be interested. Even if not, I'm still excited to tell Win's updated story. 💚

[ masterlist ] [ win's bio ]

7:00 AM.

It was the innocuous click of Win’s clock radio that woke her. Ever since she’d moved to Hawkins, sleep had been elusive. It was too quiet – the familiar sounds of the city that used to lull her to sleep were long gone, now replaced with nothing but the lonely chirping of insects and the wind. She thought waking up to the radio would make the process easier, but she usually ended up hitting snooze before the music even began to play.

Groaning, she rolled back over, pressing her face into her pillow. She thought after nearly three months she’d be at least a little used to Hawkins, but it was starting to seem like it would never feel like home.

A faint sound from the kitchen caught her ear and she lifted her face. The scent of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air – the strong brew her father liked after a long shift at the lab, even if he often fell asleep in his chair after drinking only one cup.

At least some things never changed.

He’d actually made it home before she had to leave; most days she never even saw him, leaving for school before he returned home and going to bed before he woke.

Knowing it was only a matter of time before her alarm went off again, Win pushed herself up to get dressed, turning her alarm off as she went. By the time she washed her face, applied her makeup and fixed her hair, shaking it out as she sprayed a cloud of Farrah Fawcett hair spray to give it that bounce, she’d have just enough time to toast some Eggos and down a glass of OJ before her ride arrived.

When she finally walked into the kitchen, she found her dad leaning heavily against the counter, coffee cup forgotten in one hand, half raised to his lips as he stared blankly off into space.

“Dad.”

At the sound of her voice, he roused, nearly splashing the scalding liquid over his wrist in alarm.

“Shit, sorry,” he breathed, hastily setting the cup back down and running his hands through his thin dark hair. “I was just… thinking,” he mumbled, shaking his head wearily.

“They’re working you too much,” Win said, crossing the kitchen to the fridge, pulling out the carton of orange juice before opening the freezer for her waffles.

“There’s a lot going on. You wouldn’t understand, sweetheart.”

“You always say that,” Win muttered, placing two frozen waffles in the toaster and pressing down the lever with more force than necessary. “Why can’t you just go back to your old job?” she asked, pouring herself a glass of juice. “If you’re going to be working the same lame hours, can’t it at least be somewhere better than here?”

“You know I can’t do that,” David sighed, adjusting his thick glasses on the bridge of his nose. “We’ve talked about this, Win. You’re just going to have to make the best of it here. You’ll make new friends, find fun things to do,” he insisted. “What about those girls that drive you to school?” he asked, gesturing vaguely toward the street.

Win snorted, collecting her waffles and dropping them to her plate, letting them cool a moment before taking a large bite and downing her juice. “Heather’s nice, and Tina’s alright, but Vicki Carmichael and Carol Perkins are her friends,” she said, as if the distinction were important.

David sighed, the long deep tired sigh Win came to expect from him. “Just… just keep your head up. Things’ll get better,” he finished wearily. It was his mantra–the only thing he could think of to say anytime Win complained about their situation.

Win rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue, knowing it was fruitless anyway.

“It would be nice if I had my own car to drive,” she ventured, not for the first time.

“You’re not driving the Chevelle,” her father said, knowing exactly what she was hinting at.

“But–”

“No buts,” he said, cutting her off. “Do you know how much that car cost? Besides, that’s not a car you drive every day, not with the price of gas as it is now.”

“That’s bullshit,” Win grumbled, the sound of tires on gravel pricking her ears. “You just don’t trust me.”

“We’ll get you your own car once I get some money saved up,” David said, trying to placate her, avoiding her last comment.

“Yeah, a piece of shit,” Win muttered under her breath as she slung her backpack over her shoulder.

If her father heard her, he made no sign of it. “Plus, look on the bright side, at least you don’t have to take the bus.”

Just then, Tina honked her horn impatiently, and Win scowled. “Yeah, I’m super lucky,” she mumbled, pulling open the front door.

“Try to have a good day,” her father sighed, following her to the door. “Love you!” he called and Win raised her hand in acknowledgement as she made her way to the back passenger door, yanking it open.

“What took you so long?” Tina asked as soon as Win slipped into the seat, reaching for the seat belt.

“Arguing with my dad about the car again,” Win replied, leaning back in her seat to look out the window as Tina pulled back onto the street and drove off. The trees that slid past were already in full autumn bloom, the ground beneath decorated with fallen leaves.

“Ugh, he’s so lame. It’s not like you’re gunna wreck it,” Tina scoffed in solidarity.

“Is he one of those guys that treats his car like his baby?” Carol asked with a derisive snort.

“Sort of, but not quite that extreme,” Win explained. “He always says it's for special occasions, but like, what if I want every day t’be special?”

“Speaking of special,” Vicki segued, already tired of the topic, “What is everyone wearing to Tina’s Halloween party this weekend?” she asked, flipping down the visor to check her lip gloss in the mirror.

“I’m dressing as Madonna from the ‘Like a Virgin’ music video,” Tina exclaimed excitedly.

“I’m going as Alex Owens from Flashdance,” Carol added with a grin.

“How about you, Win? Do you have a costume planned yet?” Tina asked and the others turned expectantly, waiting for her answer.

“I was thinking of going as the Road Warrior,” Win answered, tearing her eyes from the Indiana scenery to look at them.

“What?” Vicki asked, her face scrunching up.

“You know, Mad Max?” Win added. “But that’s a dude,” Carol pointed out, giving Win a strange look.

“So?” Win asked, meeting her stare head on. “I look good in leather.”

“Ooh, all leather. Sounds bitchin’,” Tina laughed, pulling into the school parking lot.

As Win stepped out of the car, the roar of an engine filled the crisp air and a dark blue Camaro with California plates whipped into the stone lot, kicking up a cloud of dust in its wake. Parking a few spots over, the car screeched to a halt, its engine still revving loudly, competing with the heavy metal music blasting from its speakers.

Suddenly the engine cut out and the driver’s door swung open. A booted foot hit the ground, and moments later Win got her first glimpse of the occupant. Clad all in denim, save for his tight white undershirt, one of the most gorgeous guys she’d ever seen straightened, shaking out his rumpled golden curls as he fixed the collar of his jean jacket and surveyed the parking lot, an unimpressed look on his face.

“Who is that?” Vicki exclaimed, gaping at him shamelessly.

The other girls stared just as enthralled, their gazes following him as he passed.

“I have no idea, but would you check out that ass?” Tina gasped, her mouth falling open as she ogled him, twisting a lock of dark hair between her fingers. “Just look at it go!” she giggled, biting her lip.

Win rolled her eyes at their reaction, but found herself looking nonetheless. His snug Levi’s left little to the imagination, hugging his hips just right, making looking at anything other than his ass nearly impossible.

“He has to be new,” Vicki exclaimed, hurrying to shut the car door behind her and follow after. “I would have definitely remembered that face.”

"Or that ass!" Carol laughed.

“C’mon, let’s go find out who he is,” Tina said, grabbing Win’s arm and hauling her toward the entrance.

It didn’t take long for the new kid’s name to be on everyone’s lips, his appearance the most interesting thing since Win’s own arrival.

“Did you hear? That new kid, Billy Hargrove, is from California!” Heather Holloway exclaimed as Win set her lunch tray down next to hers.

“Yeah, I saw the plates on his car.”

“Do you think he knows how to surf?” Heather mused, resting her chin in her hand. “He’s so bodacious!” she sighed.

“He certainly is,” Win agreed dryly, bemused by her friend’s reaction. “He might even give Steve a run for his money,” she murmured, catching sight of Steve Harrington as he walked past with his underclassman girlfriend, Nancy Wheeler, and her lips twitched downward. Before Billy had arrived, Steve was the best looking guy in their class, but he was decidedly off the market, much to Win’s chagrin.

“No way. Billy’s way hotter than Steve,” Tina argued, joining them at the table, followed by Vicki.

“I’m gunna make a move and ask him for a ride home,” Vicki said, wearing a smug grin.

“You do that,” Win muttered as she opened her milk carton.

Wanting to sneak a cigarette before afternoon class, she finished her lunch quickly, slipping away while the others were preoccupied, still discussing boys.

Pulling her half empty pack from her jacket pocket, she plucked one of the slim rolls free and placed it between her lips as she made her way to the bleachers by the practice field. A group of guys were lounging near the top and Win spotted none other than Billy Hargrove’s windswept mullet as she made her way to her secret hiding spot.

Ducking into the shade under the metal bleachers, she fished her lighter free and lit up, inhaling deeply. Blowing the smoke through her nostrils, she felt the instant calming effect of the nicotine roll over her and she leaned back against the support beam, closing her eyes.

It wasn’t long before the boys’ conversation above drifted down, pricking her attention, and Win tilted her head to listen in.

“What’s it like there?”

“No man, what’re the babes like there?”

Billy let out a scoff. “They’re way hotter than any of the cows you have around here.”

Several guys laughed, clapping Billy on the shoulder while a few others–the ones with girlfriends, no doubt–muttered under their breaths, not wanting to seem lame in front of the new cool kid.

“You saying you haven’t seen any chick you like yet?” Tommy Hagan asked, and below, Win rolled her eyes, flicking a line of ash from her cigarette.

Wait til he hears his girlfriend has a hard on for his new hero, she thought smugly.

“None that I’ve seen. I’m starting to think high school girls might be beneath me anyway,” Hargrove answered and Win had to fight back a derisive snort.

“Asshole,” she muttered under her breath, crushing her cigarette butt underfoot as the bell rang.

The rest of the afternoon passed unremarkably and Win was rather relieved she didn’t share any classes with Billy. She didn’t think she could stomach any more girls fawning over him, especially after what she’d overheard at lunch. Just because he was attractive didn’t mean he was a catch.

“Win!” Tina called as the final bell rang and everyone funneled out into the hall. “Help me pass out the party invites?” she asked, pulling a stack of orange flyers from her backpack as Win waited for her.

“Yeah alright,” Win agreed reluctantly, taking half the stack, knowing she wouldn’t be able to leave until Tina’d passed them all out anyway. At least with the two of them handing them out it would go faster.

“Great, you’re the best!” she chirped. “Meet me by the parking lot once you’ve handed them all out. Oh! And only give them to upperclassmen, okay?” she called as Win headed in the opposite direction.

Sighing, Win positioned herself by the bottom of the staircase, handing a flier to every student that passed, whether they were seniors or not, just wanting to get the task over with.

“Halloween night, come get ‘sheet-faced’ at Tina’s!” she exclaimed flatly, reading off the words on the page.

“Oh hey, can I snag one of those?” Steve asked, shrugging the strap of his backpack up higher on his shoulder as he stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

“Uh, yeah, you thinking about going, Harrington?” Win asked, passing him one of the orange fliers.

“Yeah, it’s been too long since I’ve just cut loose and partied,” he admitted, looking over the sheet before slipping it in his bag.

Win had heard stories about King Steve, and how he’d lost his touch since dating Nancy Wheeler, at least according to Carol. Apparently she, Tommy, and Steve had been pretty tight up until last year when they had some falling out and Tommy had beat the shit out of Steve.

“This’ll be my first official party in Hawkins,” Win mused. “I kinda doubt it’ll hold a candle to the parties I’m used to though.”

“Probably not,” Steve chuckled, shaking his head ruefully. “But I’m sure it’ll be fun, nonetheless,” he shrugged. “Beats staying home.”

“I guess you’ve got a point,” Win agreed, sharing a small grin with Steve.

“Well, I better get going, I gotta find Nance,” he said, glancing at his wrist watch. “See ya, Win.”

“Yeah, see ya,” Win muttered, sparing him a glance as he walked away, her grin souring.

Once she’d been wiped out of fliers, she went in search of Tina, finding her just finishing up as well.

“Do you think Billy’ll come?” Tina asked as they walked to the parking lot together.

Win huffed an annoyed breath. “Who cares? That jerk’s so full of himself,” she muttered, noticing his blue Camaro was still parked ahead.

Tina’s brows rose, wondering what Win could possibly have against him already. “That’s fine, if you’re not interested, all the better for the rest of us,” she laughed, flashing Billy her best smile as they approached.

True to her word, Vicki was already at his side as he leaned against his car, chewing on a toothpick, as if waiting for something.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Billy mused as he smirked, looking Win up and down appraisingly, completely ignoring Vicki.

Before Win could sling a snappy comeback Tina answered for her, eager to please. “This is Win, and I’m Tina,” she added, batting her eyelashes at him.

Billy rolled the toothpick to the corner of his mouth, his tongue lazily swiping across his bottom lip. “You’re not from around here, are you?” he asked, still looking only at Win, though it was less of a question and more an observation. “You can tell that just by looking at me, can you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

The low chuckle he let out in response made her stomach somersault, but she kept her face straight, not giving anything away; reacting would only fuel his ego.

“Oh, I can tell a lot by just looking at you.” Billy’s words held a cocky insinuation and though Win couldn’t deny how fucking attractive he was, there was nothing she wanted more than to knock him down a few pegs.

“I thought High School girls were beneath you,” she said, wearing a calculated frown, her brows pinching in faux confusion as she repeated what she’d overheard back at him. At her words Tina and Vicki gaped at her as if she’d grown another head.

Billy, however, merely huffed in amusement. “That’s till I met you,” he said, leaning in closer, his blue eyes flashing at the unspoken challenge. “I’d definitely like you beneath me,” he said, tilting his head as his gaze flicked up to hers, a coy smirk playing at his lips.

Win’s own lips twitched as she stared back, a wicked grin suddenly gracing her features. “Too bad, I prefer being on top,” she said with a shrug.

Without another word, she slipped past him, smirking at the look on his face, while Tina shared an incredulous look with Vicki before giving a start and hurrying after her, directing a wistful look back over her shoulder as she trailed behind.

“Your sister coming, or what?” Vicki huffed, jealous of the almost predatory way Billy’s gaze followed Win.

Annoyed at the interruption, he tore his eyes away, a scowl marring his features. “She’ll be here, she knows better than to make me wait.” He pulled the toothpick from his lips, turning his head and spitting. “And don’t call her that–” he snapped, pointing at Vicki over the top of his car.

“What?” Vicki asked, frowning at his sudden shift in mood.

“Sister,” he exclaimed. “She’s not my sister.”

“What the hell was that?” Tina cried, rounding on Win as they reached her car.

“What was what?” Win asked innocently, waiting for her friend to unlock the doors.

“I thought you weren’t interested!”

Win fell silent, unsure how to answer. As she climbed into her seat, she looked back toward Billy’s blue Camaro, trying to ignore the way he’d made her insides flutter. Maybe he was a smug bastard, but Win couldn’t deny there was something dangerous and exciting about him, not to mention the fact he was sex on legs, and unlike Steve “the Hair” Harrington, single.

“I’m not,” she insisted, though it was clear she wasn’t fooling anyone.

Tina rolled her eyes as she put the car in gear. “Yeah, sure.”

✗ Taglist. (if you'd like to be added to the taglist, let me know!) @super-unpredictable98 @thecatkingsthrone @heartbreak-sandwich @sailorskunk

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x f!oc #oc: win lewis #otp: lewgrove #fic: i don't think you notice #joz.fic

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atouuu · 8 months ago

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Amethyst (a Silvercandle fanfic)

(Note from the author: putting something different here than on ao3,,but this is my first fic first off and this is only the first chapter here. ALSO BTW THIS IS VERY MUCH SILVERCANDLE FLUFF AS YOU CAN TELL FROM THE TITLE SO..if you dont like the ship this one isnt for you,, For more context i suggest you see it on ao3 but this spawned from a twitter thread between me and a mutual and basically its silver and candle and some other ii characters and my personal ships playin minecraft in candles attempts to cheer up silver during a rainy week,,constructive critisism is encourgaed since im very new to this so ye,,enjoy chapter on and here is the ao3 link to the fic as i will be updating it with the other chapters as time goes on so rn im just really testing the waters,,,OKAY ON TO THE FIC!!)

Chapter 1: A Rainy Week Ahead

Silver lay awake one night at hotel OJ; it had been raining for practically the whole day, and Silver usually was fine spending these particularly gloomy days for him in his hotel room reading (that is when Lightbulb wasn’t trying to get him to “cheer up”). Though, this time felt different...Silver didn’t exactly feel himself..this whole self betterment journey he’s been..feeling off.. According to the forecast it was gonna be like this all week, and Silver surely didnt have enough books (or emotional stability) to just stay in his room for a whole week. So he decided, instead of sleeping, he’d talk to Candle; even though she was definitely asleep by now…

Deep breaths …Silver Spoon thought to himself. He reached over to his bedside table to get his phone and opened the messenger app, but he hesitated. He hated seeming too clingy towards Candle…even if he knew, she did care about him..and love him..a lot…He didn’t just want to talk to her..he wanted to be with her, physically. Silver sat there, for at least 10 minutes, just staring, gazing, daydreaming, as he looked down at his phone in silence; the rain outside gradually beating down even harder on the window of the room. He winced at the sound of thunder. God he hated this. He really couldnt stand this much longer. He threw off the ugly orange covers of his Hotel OJ bed and hopped out of bed, dropping his phone in the process. “Whoops..” Silver Spoon said softly to himself ...praying and hoping to God that he didn’t wake Lightbulb…the LAST thing he would want in this moment was to be questioned. Silver could have seen her moving under the covers (though he was also wondering how she wasn’t suffocating by now) but she didn’t seem to have woken up.. “Phew…” That was close. He snatched his phone off the ground and walked to his closet and got the baby blue robe that Candle got for him and threw it on over his pajamas, opening the room door very gently and closing it as such before tiptoeing down the hall to Candle’s room.

Unfortunately for Silver just as he was about to knock on the door; very hesitantly; BOOM, there was the thunder again, scaring the poor guy off his feet nearly, so if he wasn’t gonna go through with knocking before, he’d definitely done it now as he practically slammed his face and phone into the door, leaving him standing there in front of Candle and Goo’s room in a daze. Click click. “Silver Spoon…my dear, are you alright..?” Silver, standing there with his knees still shaking and his heart basically trying to beat out his chest, took a moment to register her voice… “Silver…” Candle gently rested her hands on his shoulders as she tried to calm him down, eventually patting his back and leading him into her room and onto her bed. Silver at this point had eased back into his senses as he sat. Candle, after gently closing the door as to not wake her roommate, sat beside him, a concerned look on her face it seemed, though it was difficult for Silver to make it out because, the lights in the room were off, the only light being the dimly lit night light Goo had plugged in on his side of the room, where he still lay soundly asleep. They sat on Candle’s bed in silence for a moment. “So..is something wrong?” Silver, of course, not wanting to admit to just..wanting to be in her embrace, instead of admitting it, he hesitantly wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in for a hug; resting his head on her shoulder in the process. “No..it’s nothing..” Silver said, though it was muffled considering his face was buried in Candles embrace, which she returned in response to his own. “Hm, right of course, you came all the way down the hall here, in the middle of the night, for..nothing, dear?” Silver groaned as he sat up; “Okay FINE it’s not nothing…I just wanted to..see..you..” Candle chuckled lightly, which was enough to give Silver even more of a warm feeling inside (than he already had from actually being with her now). “Oh Silver-” Another crackle of thunder. Silver shuddered and huddled even closer to Candle without even noticing; he paused and backed away for a moment, blushing out of sheer embarrassment. “..S-Sor-” Before he could finish his needless apology though, she quickly but gently hugged him back with a soft look on her face as she looked up at him, still quivering. “I see what it is now…” Candle got up from the bed and took Silver’s hand; subsequently setting his pale white cheeks to a rosy pink shade yet again. He followed her out the door and down to the first floor and into the lobby.

“Sit down for a moment.” Candle whispered, as she seated him onto the couch, going into the kitchen, and getting Silver a glass of water before sitting down next to him. “Need anything else..?” She switched on the TV which was, to Silver's dismay, playing the weather channel, to which Candle quickly switched to what seemed to be some kind of nature documentary. “I’m..quick alright, my dear..” A beat of silence passed, as Silver took a quick sip of water. “...Thank you..by the way..I know it is rather…late…” Silver, getting comfortable and crossing his legs criss-cross-apple-sauce style on the couch while gently resting his head on Candle’s, considering their height difference, chuckled lightly before yawning. “Oh wow, so you’ve come all this way just to fall asleep again?” Candle snickered as she leaned in towards him, awaiting a response. “Well, it is rather difficult to sleep when the rain outside is practically trying to break in with how hard it’s pounding on my window!” Candle chuckled at this even more, resting her head on his shoulder. “Oh Silver…this week is surely going to be a wild ride for you, hm?” Silver crossed his arms and scoffed at this, but ultimately sighed and chuckled. “I suppose I could..use some new ways to occupy myself…”; remarked Silver. Candle paused to think for a moment. “A new way to occupy yourself huh…” Candle scanned the room for a moment; and again…and yet again. One more time; ding, there it was. She had it. “I have just the plan. That is if you’re willing to strengthen some bonds..?” Silver gave her a very clear look of confusion as the two layed eyes on the console, which belonged to Pickle, on the entertainment stand below the TV. What on earth did she even mean by strengthening bonds..?? “..And that is supposed to mean what exactly, my dear..?”; Silver wondered. “Oh, you’ll see, trust me, it’ll be fun.” Despite the obvious confusion conveyed by Silver, she got up and began to head upstairs. “You stay here, I’ll be quick.” “C-Candle..” She was already up the step before he could raise his voice. “Well..I do suppose she did say she’d be.. quick …” A blanket of silence fell across the room. BOOM; another crackle of thunder. Silver jumped, pulling his legs closer into his chest and he waited eagerly. Speaking of blankets..he really could have used one right now…

(Note from the author AGAIN: thaks for reading all this, if you have thoughts dont be hesitant to lmk really i do wanna know what people think IK THIS IS VERY LONG WINDED AND OFF FOR WHAT I'VE POSTED ON HERE BUT BEAR WITH ME THIS WAS ACTUALLY KINDA FUN..if you want me to post any other chapters here i will anyways..have a good day/night <3 -Atou)

#inanimate insanity #inanimate insanity fanfic #fanfic #silvercandle ii #silver spoon ii #candle ii

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lovesbitca8 · 4 years ago

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Reactions to the Final Chapter of The Auction (2/?)

Anonymous said: I’m just gonna say it. Shrapley can get it. He came through for us in the clutch. We owe him so much.

Anonymous said: I kind of ship narcissa and shrapley. I mean I absolutely love love love lucissa but now that he's dead I think she definitely could date him. I definitely imagine shrapley playing mind games with draco just like lucius👀👀

junogriffith said: Thank you so much for the torture that was The Auction. I don't typically do dark fics but since it was you writing it, I went for it. It was beautiful and I loved reading it ♥ Now, I'm going to pretend like it never happened and it was just a horcrux induced nightmare that Hermione had and keep TRTTD as the absolute truth. Excuse me while I reread it so I can see Hermione and Draco be happy together, as is the truth.

THE JOY I GOT OUT OF THIS

Anonymous said: Forgive me but f*k pov draco. I want the story from Lucius eyes. Lucius you created is my fav even compare canon. By the way I wondered if you write anything for theatre?

I do write for theatre. Nothing that has been professional produced yet.

Anonymous said: i recently came across your writing and I ABSOLUTELY FELL IN LOVE WITH IT! I was sooo thrilled when I discovered your rights and wrong series and how you wrote aus of your aus! I’ve love them all! The Auction was fantastic and I think the ending was great! You’re a fantastic writer and I love how you write dramione! ❤️

Anonymous said: oh jules, i have to tell you i was so very much enjoying all the lawyery stuff happening in this chapter and i was totally picturing this american lawyer as like an oj lawyer type guy and laughing through it all but i was also anxiously looking at my scroll bar like there isn’t enough time! how are they going to wrap this and let us see draco with hermione for real again how! (i do this thing where i think if i scroll slower when it nears the end it will somehow make the chapter longer lol) and then the outcomes happen and i felt emotions (i’m keeping this spoiler free as much as i can) and then she went to that place and i was like, oh my god and then she said “i’m sorry we’re just closed” and i immediately cried jules, i had to put the ipad down and walk away because i was hyperventilating and then i came back and finished it and i sobbed and i promise you jules i’ve never cried at a fic before not even the ones that really got me ya know? but i’m still cying now like as in i’m sorry if there are mistakes here my screen is all blurry crying. i just i really encourage eveyone who hadn’t read the other two works in the series to read them it makes the end ache so much deeper like i feel so many emotions because of how it all tied together. hope, pain, joy, and i don’t even know what else cause i’m bad at naming emotions, it’s why i’m in therapy, but it’s a lot of things. and it’s like of course we people love fluffy clear hea wrapups and we have all your other works to know they are gonna be just fine but ending the way you did, very “ok what next” like was just so perfect for the tone of this story. anyway i’m done now i must process things but congratulations jules, cat, and mar at least in my opinion you definitely stuck the landing. ps loved the little dress with pockets easter egg i’m gonna go read that now to try and stop crying and then i’m gonna read all three of these fics back to back and probably cry all over again. xoxo and happy holidays you deserve your break

Anonymous said: I know that this is just one minor opinion in the sea of praise that you absolutely deserve, but I wanted you to know that I’ve never read anything as amazingly mind-blowing as the Rights and Wrongs Series. You’ve created masterpieces. Not only did you end TA with the perfect blend of justice and HEA, but you’ve poetically concluded Hermione’s story. I hope you can ignore the mean trolls, and know that you have a beautiful talent making art out of words. Thank you, for everything that you do!

Anonymous said: Will there be any post-Auction drabbles written for All Right or is that only for TRTTD/ATWT?

Currently, it is only for TRTTD/ATWT. I have no intention of writing post-Auction drabbles.

21stcenturyrapunzel said: Okay 1) The Auction is finished 2) I cried a lot reading it 3) thank you for creating that awesome story 4) if you’re still driven to create it Id love a post-port key Draco perspective to see where he was and to see the moment he read the paper where Hermione says she loves him still. Okay, back to crying ❤️

Anonymous said: The description of Charlotte and how she died hit me harder than I expected. The fact that she was enslaved but was also free to a degree because she was able to fight back and help the True Order but she ultimately died under imperius and died for the people who did this to her breaks my heart. Obviously people die in war and she's a fictional character but fuck if it didn't make me wanna cryMy therapist will DEFINITELY hear about this lol

letssingintherain said: i was studying for my math final and i suddenly remembered that theo died in the auction. so now i'm sad af

letssingintherain said: ok i'm rereading the last chapter of TA and tears are just streaming down my face HOW ARE YOU SO TALENTED

#The Auction #I do not ship Shrapley/Narcissa #lol

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themagiciansreccenter · 6 years ago

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Five @ Five @shmazarov

As a part of our author spotlight, we’ve asked each writer to highlight 5 fics and tell us a little about their experience writing (or reading) them.

If It Makes You Feel Better by lazarov

"Jesus Christ," Quentin moaned. "I am such a fucking asshole! All I remember is that Margo started kissing me, and I was all emotionally jumbled up and she was crying and you were there, passed out -- and this was a huge, horrible mistake.” He paused. “Uh, no offense.”

“Mhmm.” Eliot rolled his eyes and pulled out a bottle of Cuervo, pouring two sloppy fingers into a tumbler and topping it up with what could generously be called a splash of OJ. He slid it towards Quentin. “Tequila sunrise pour vous? ”

“Please no.”

“Suit yourself.” He slid the glass back towards himself and took a sip, before furrowing his brow and examining Quentin’s face. “Did you say Margo was crying?”

Twitchily, Quentin shifted under his gaze and shrugged. “It was just leftover bottled-up emotion brain-junk. No biggie.”

“Alright,” he said slowly, and Quentin suspected he wasn’t quite off the hook. But Eliot’s forehead relaxed and he changed the subject, pacing in a circle and waving his drink around, explaining: "Look, you were extremely drunk and hopped up on bootleg magic. The cheap, street stuff is like bottom-shelf tequila: nobody can be blamed for their actions after a few shots, worm and all." Eliot paused, quirking an eyebrow and leaning his elbows on the counter. His robe slid an down his shoulders, revealing a fucking bite mark under his left clavicle, and Quentin dragged his eyes away, doing his best to convince himself that the reddish-bruised imprint was way too small to have come from him. "To be honest, boo, I didn't think you had it in you."

This was my very first fic for the Magicians fandom, and my first attempt at developing an ear for Quentin and Eliot's voices. I didn't quite hit the mark, but I think it was a decent early start. It's satisfying to see how much further I've come in developing a feel for these characters.

Caught You by lazarov

"I thought that after all this turned out to be real, that I wouldn't..." Quentin sighs and thumps his head backwards against the wall, frustrated. "I shouldn't still be doing this. I shouldn't want to..." He trails off.

"Why?" Eliot says. "Because of magic?" He spits the word out like it's vinegar in his mouth, then sighs. "The fact that magic didn't fix all your problems doesn't make you ungrateful. And you're not stupid."

Quentin quirks the corner of his mouth, a doubtful sort of 'maybe.'

Eliot's hand have finally stopped shaking enough that he can let go of Quentin's arm ("You take over," he murmurs) and start to form a spell. There are probably better ones, stronger ones, but his brain feels scrambled and it's the only one he can bring forth with reasonable certainty.

His hands work methodically but cautiously as he moves through the procession: slow, carefully-drawn arcs and deliberate patterns. He nearly stumbles on the third movement, a transition from bhramara to Flamel's Interlock, but he manages to keep going, the energy building in his hands like glowing coals. Quentin watches him with tired eyes, tracking the movements with clear interest; it's not a spell he'd've learned yet, second-year Fundamentals of Wellness spellcasting stuff, and something twits in his stomach as he realizes Quentin is committing it to memory.

I love Caught You, the whole series is so important to me. Not just because I feel it was vital to explore what could've-been with Quentin's depression after Dean Fogg suggested he go off his meds, but also because I think this fic is the one where I found my voices for Eliot and Q as well as my personal style for writing hand-spellcasting.

Stories We Tell by lazarov

They stayed wrapped in each others arms for a long while: warm, slippery skin pressed together in cold water, the immediacy of their thoughts drowned out by the constant, soothing white noise of the falls, only occasionally pierced by the sound of songbirds sweetly singing to each other across the clearing.

"Will you tell me what you thought when you first saw me?" Quentin asked, his breath hot on Eliot's shoulder. He dragged his teeth against Eliot's trapezius, eliciting a shiver.

"At Brakebills?"

Eliot felt Quentin nod. He nosed against Quentin's temple: "I thought you were beautiful" - he pressed a kiss to Quentin's cool skin, over his eyebrow - "and intriguing" - another kiss, between Quentin's eyes - "and I immediately began plotting an intricate plan to make you fall head-over-hells in lust with me."

"You're supposed to tell the truth," Quentin said quietly, giving Eliot a gentle, admonishing bite.

"I know," said Eliot. "I am."

He was.

I generally have an extremely hard time writing romance but this? I was proud of this. There's something about setting a mood and teasing out exactly the moment you want from the setting you've created that is satisfying as fuck. This fic is an off-shoot of Caught You, but stands on its own as well: Quentin and Eliot trying to figure out how to be alone with each other - and take care of each other, despite their respective hang-ups about feeling loved - in Fillory.

One and the Same by lazarov

“Well, I hope that jackrabbit got eaten! Mashed up and squished right between a killer turtle’s teeth so he can’t call me names ever again.” Still draped over Quentin’s shoulder, Rupert did his turtle impression again. He poked Quentin in the back. “Turn me so I can look at dad.” Dutifully, Quentin spun so that Rupert was level with Eliot’s eyes. “What do you think? About him getting eaten?”

“Well.” Eliot tapped his chin with one finger. “First of all, I don’t think turtles have teeth. Second, I guess whether or not I wish a horrible death upon him depends on exactly what name that rabbit called you, buddy.”

“He called me a…” Rupert frowned, reconsidering, and waved Eliot closer. Eliot dutifully leaned forward so that Rupert could whisper with one hand cupped around his ear: “A two-legged idiot.”

“Well,” Eliot said gravely, rocking back on his heels. Quentin’s shoulders were bobbing with silent laughter and Rupert bounced gently along with them. “That is particularly rude. And I’m glad you chose not to repeat it in front of your dad. We both know he’s very sensitive”—

“Hey!” Quentin protested.

“But, if we’re talking eaten-by-turtles bad? I think I could find it in my heart to let that rabbit go. Mercy is a virtue, no?”

Rupert nodded, pleased with the answer, and Eliot stepped towards them. He pressed his lips against the sun-warmed top of Rupert’s head, before nosing at the soft, stubbled spot below Quentin’s ear. Gently, Quentin leaned into his touch

—

“Jesus fuck.” Eliot slammed one angry fist on the table and then buried his face in his hands. The sharp pain in his wrist helped to draw him out of the memory, but he was still stuck half-in and half-out: he could still smell Quentin’s hair and the damp of his skin after working on the mosaic in the afternoon heat. He could still feel a tiny hand tugging at his linen shirt. Eliot suppressed the urge to throw his chair backwards and rip himself away from it. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he said again, wounded, his lips muffled against his palms.

“Hey,” Quentin said quickly, shooting one hand out to gently grab Eliot’s wrist. “El? You okay?”

He couldn’t answer – paralyzed by the memory, he opened his eyes and slowly blinked before taking stock of himself: they were in a shitty diner in midtown. In front of him, there was a scuffed white plate with a bagel on it. There was lox on the bagel. Quentin was sitting across from him. Quentin was wearing a grey sweater. He could feel Quentin’s foot touching his foot. Quentin’s warm hand was on his wrist.

This is an in-progress series about Eliot and Quentin dealing with their memories of the mosaic timeline. I tend to write what I want to read and, if I could read nothing except fic about Quentin and Eliot emotionally processing flashbacks of that timeline for the rest of my days in this fandom? I would be very lucky indeed.

spring sooner than the lark by greywash

"I love you," Eliot says, very quietly; and Quentin says, "I know."

"I'm in love with you," Eliot says; and Quentin says, "I know," and then lifts up his head.

Straightens. Quentin reaches up. Rubbing a thumb against Eliot's burning cheek: Eliot can't stop looking at him. His lovely serious sweet face.

"I think I've always been in love with you," Eliot says, barely breathing; and Quentin nods, cupping his cheek.

"I know, sweetheart," he says, really gently. "But that's not what I asked."

His big dark, sad eyes.

Eliot swallows. There is an odd, unstable sort of a wobble, buried somewhere under his sternum. "If I said no," he says; and then takes a breath, and corrects: "if. If it doesn't work out."

Quentin closes his eyes, and then touches their foreheads together.

"Then we'll figure it out," he says, very quietly, "that's not what I'm asking."

Eliot closes his eyes; and Quentin takes a breath.

"This is your home," Quentin says, very quietly. "I'm—yours, whatever happens, we're yours, I'm not going to leave, and I'm not going to—to take Teddy away from you, or something"; and Eliot—Eliot can't— "Oh, Christ, El": Quentin slides his arm around Eliot's middle.

Pulling him. Close.

Eliot curls up. Tucking his face into Quentin's throat.

"You know you gave him to me, right?" Quentin says, very quietly. "You're as much his father as I am"; and Eliot presses his eyes to Quentin's warm rough sweat-smelling skin.

Get the FUCK out of here with that intensely gorgeous prose. Talk about setting a mood. Ever since I read it, this gorgeous fic has spurred on my desire to write for the Magicians and my desire to WRITE BETTER.

#the magicians #the magicians rec center #author spotlight #author spotlight: lazarov #author: lazarov #five @ five

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jeff-better · 7 years ago

Text

Back To School . Jeffery Atkins

A/N:okay. like usual, this has no plot like always but i was just in the mood for a jeff atkins fic and i was really feeling back to school (eww, right?) sooo. enjoy a fic about my fave.

NOT EDITED

Summary: going back to school sucks usually but it sucks a little less when jeff’s there.

Warnings: PDA, school,

“Ready, lil sis?” Monty questioned as he stepped off of the last step of their staircase, making his way to his sister who was sitting on the couch in their living room.

Y/N rolls her eyes, turning away from the television on the wall that was playing Teen Titans Go. “I’m younger than you by a month,” She comments, biting into her granola bar before offering Monty the rest.

“Hmm, still counts,” The older male takes the breakfast bar and bites into it, smiling through a mouthful. “Now, hurry before we’re late.” He rushes after swallowing the contents in his mouth. As he walks away he mumbles something along the lines of ‘Do we have any OJ, or Vodka? Either would work. ‘

Y/N chuckles at her brother slightly, pulling her phone out from under her thigh as she felt a vibration from it.

‘Morrnnnin!!!!!!111!!!!111′

A text from Jeff read. Y/N smiled, quickly responding with the exact same message. Locking her phone and standing to her feet, Y/N walked into the bright kitchen and leaned against the granite counter top across from Monty who was pouring Vodka into OJ.

“Hmm, drinking already?” She comments, playing with her nails a little before glancing up and smirking. Monty flicked her off with the hand that wasn’t holding a glass.

“You don’t expect me to face that place again sober, right?” Y/N chuckled, reaching in her pocket to grab her phone once again. She slid on the marble counter with ease. “Jeff?” Y/N nodded.

‘Tell Monty to hurry his ass up and get here. i wanna see my girl’

“He says to hurry your ass up because he wants to see me.” Y/N can practically hear Monty’s eye roll. He doesn’t respond for a few seconds, probably because he’s drinking his Vodka OJ.

Hearing a large gulp and an ‘ah’ from her slightly older brother, Y/N turns around to see Monty putting up the alcohol. “Tell Atkins I said to not rush me and that he can fuck my sister later.” Rolling her eyes, Y/N did as told and slid off the counter, checking her phone.

“Okay, if we leave now I have time to get a coffee from Monet’s.” Monty furrowed his eyebrows and pointed to the cabinet where the kept their teas and coffees.

“But we have our own-”

“Coffee? I know. But I gotta buy Alex his favorite drink so neither of us die on this horrible and dreaded day.” Lightly chuckling and letting a small smirk rise to his lips, Montgomery grabs his car keys and gestures for his sister to grab her things and get in his car.

The younger hops off of the granite counter top in a hurry and gathers her things, turning off the TV and all lights before running outside and hopping into the car that’s going to take her to hell.

After singing along to many songs, the two arrive to Liberty High and both hop out the Jeep, heading inside to their lockers. Their school kept the same lockers all 4 years. When you become a Senior you’re giving up your locker to a freshmen and that freshmen becomes a senior and gives their locker that they got from a senior to a freshmen who will become a senior.

It was a repetitive process.

“Y/n!” The dark haired girl turned her head from her locker decorating to see Hannah Baker and Sheri Holland running towards her, hand in hand. She smiled sweetly, waiting for the couple to meet her so she she endure them in a warm hug.

“I’m glad to see my favorite couple survived through the summer.” Y/n stated, finishing up decoration her pastel themed locker. Sheri nodded, sighing softly and flicking a straightened piece of hair over her shoulder.

“Barley. This one went to France and didn’t even tell me until a week later. I was nervous that she had found herself a French girlfriend but she kept me updated through snapchats.” The fruit named girl pecked the cheek of her girlfriend, smiling to Y/n who almost melted at the story and kiss. “How’re you and Jeff?”

Almost on too perfect timing, the girl felt a familiar pair of strong arms wrap around her waist and lifting her from the ground before placing her back down.

As she spun around, she was met with the beautiful smiling face of the named baseball player. It seemed like his teeth got even whiter over the summer.

“Speaking of the handsome devil.” Y/n spoke. The two haven’t seen each other since July 4 when Jeff left after seeing fireworks with his favorite girl. He went to Puerto Rico to see his dads side of the family, staying there until 3 days before school started.

Considering Y/n was busy with her own life, she hadn’t been able to see her long time boyfriend since the fourth.

“Did you get buffer?” She placed her hands on Jeff’s shoulders, tracing down to his exposed biceps through his black shirt. “Damn.” She whispered to herself, biting on her bottom lip.

Jeff chuckled, leaning down to peck his girlfriends lips. “I’m pretty sure you’re glowing right now. More than usual that is. The beach did you well.” He responded, referring to the beach trip the De La Cruz’s took over the summer.

“Hann, look how cute our otp are.” Sheri complimented, leaning into her girlfriend who literally had tears at the brink of her eyes. “They’re seniors now and they’re getting older.”

Y/n turned to look to her two best friends, smiling softly before sarcastically rolling her eyes. Jeff just pulled her head towards him again, softly pulling her chin upwards towards his face so he could easily connect their lips.

“Woah, Atkins! I’d prefer if I didn’t see you sucking my sisters face off.” The voice of Monty broke the two apart. He had his signature smirk placed on his lips and Justin Foley at his side.

“I actually would like to see that.” Justin piped in, making Monty punch his shoulder and tell him that he was speaking about his sister and teammate. Justin just shrugged and walked towards Alex Standall who was on his phone while walking through the hallway, sipping from the drink Y/n had given him when she saw the blond boy earlier.

“Well, last year of highschool. How do you wanna start it off?” Jeff questioned to Y/n who smirked and leaned up towards his ear, whispering words that made Jeff bite onto his bottom lip. “Who knew you were into that?”

Then, the two ran off towards the bathrooms.

#jeff atkins #jeffery atkins #Brandon Larracuente #13 reasons why #13 rw #jeff atkis imagines #monty de la cruz #montgomery de la cruz #alex standall #hannah baker #dylan minette #clay jensen

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