#panic! in the fandom would be a good band name | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lastbluetardis · 1 year ago

Note

🎵 i just think we, as a society, need more taylor swift-inspired tenrose fics & james x rose AUs 🤍💫 (sorry i’m late btw)

I agree this fandom needs way more TSwift-inspired Ten/Rose AUs 😂

Song: Ivy

AU Idea: Another somewhat angsty song and idea, also with themes of infidelity due to the nature of the song.

This would make for another good ye olde time piece where James and Rose are each in an arranged marriage/betrothal to other people, but neither of them particularly ever wanted to get married, and they especially didn't want to be forced into a marriage. Both their marriages/betrothals are loveless and as a result, they're each miserable and depressed and want to burn the world down.

James is taking his betrothed out on the town, chaperoned of course 'cos God forbid anything untoward happen if he and his fiancée are left alone, even though everyone is aware of how much James hates being engaged. Perhaps Rose is a barmaid or something at the little pub James and his partner are at, and while she isn't his server directly, they keep locking eyes from across the room. James had never seen anyone so beautiful, and he's enchanted by her easy smiles and bright eyes whenever she interacts with a customer. Rose, meanwhile, thinks he's gorgeous and it's the first time she ever considered wanting to corner a stranger in a dark hall and kiss him silly.

Rose's shift ends before James and his fiancee finish their meal, and James sees her leaving and panics, because even though it's stupid and irresponsible, he wants to know her name and wants to see her again. He pretends he needs the toilets, and he follows her out the back door of the pub.

"Excuse me!"

She turns, and a delighted smile crosses her face to see the man she's been lusting over for the past hour. She smooths her hair back, and James's stomach sinks to see the wedding band on her finger. He nearly stutters out an apology, because surely she's a better person than him and doesn't despise her husband, but Rose saw the way he went a little dumbstruck at the sight of her ring, and she grimaces. He's confused, so he oh so loquaciously asks, "Er... married?"

She sighs. "Unfortunately. Earlier this year. Never met him 'til my wedding day."

Part of him aches that someone as seemingly lovely as her seems so unhappy, yet another part of him rejoices that he's not the only terrible person that hates their soon-to-be spouse.

"Yeah, I know what that's like."

"Oh? Miss blonde in there...?"

"Arranged. Parents need me to "carry on the bloodline"."

Rose giggles a little, and she holds out her hand. "I'm Rose."

"James." He shakes it, and it's like electricity shocks through him, stealing his breath and making his heart stutter deliciously in his stomach. "Say... I know this is odd and improper... but d'you... d'you maybe want to... take a walk with me sometime?"

Rose considers, and he's almost certain she's going to decline, but then she nods and says, "I take morning walks through the farm fields. I like watchin' the cows. I start my route on Henrick's street. Maybe I'll see you there?"

And she walks away, leaving him feeling giddy but so, so wretched.

And so a routine is borne. James and Rose regularly take morning walks together. Not every day, and not the same routes, because they're trying to avoid being noticed. It takes all of a week for James to tentatively reach for her hand while they stroll, and another week before he braves kissing said hand. They're each sick with guilt that they're essentially courting each other while they're promised to someone else.

But they can't seem to stop.

After the first month, they share their first kiss.

After the second, they make love in the shadow of an unoccupied barn.

That's their new routine. Walking and kissing and making love. But one day they're caught by the farmer whose barn they regularly commandeer, and word gets back to Rose's husband. He beats her to within an inch of her life.

James only finds out through whispers going 'round the town that Rose cuckolded her husband, and that she deserved the punishment she got, and that really, it could have been a lot worse.

He runs to her house to check on her, but she dismisses him and slams the door in his face when she sees him. It wasn't quick enough, because James hears a man shouting down the hall, asking who it was, and soon this hulking mass of a man is on the porch and takes a swing at James. The two of them skirmish, exchanging blows, with Rose pleading for them to stop. But all James sees in the swollen, bruised mess of her face and the arm she's got cradled in a sling. James punches her husband right in the nose, knocking him out.

James holds out his hand for Rose. "Run away with me?"

"Run away? Where are we going to go?"

"Does it matter? Anywhere is better than here. I know this is mad, but I'm in love with you, and I can't bear the thought of you staying in this house a moment longer. I can't bear the thought of not being with you, of not falling asleep and waking up beside you. Sod the rules and sod the expectations, and especially sod this horrible brute of a man you call a husband."

Rose wavers for a few seconds, eyes filled with tears, but she nods. She wiggles her wedding band off of her finger and slips it onto her husband's pinkie.

James almost collapses with relief, but he takes her hand and ushers her away into the morning. James has a bit of money saved up, so he sneaks into his house and grabs it all, leaving behind all of his material valuables. After all, he's got Rose. What else could he possibly need?

Send me a 🎵 and I’ll shuffle my Taylor Swift playlist

#cosmicallytragic #ash answers #doctor who #ten x rose #ten x rose au #this got away from me too 😂#ivy is one of my favorite songs #it's so beautifully tragic #honestly everything from evermore is my favorite 😂

76 notes · View notes

gok1bvri72 · 1 year ago

Text

I adore Len and Rin! I have been trying my hand in x readers lately by making a load of Lyney x Reader so why not make some nostalgic (for me at least) Len x Reader🤔? As cringe as it may sound I've been reading all the fics left over by the fandom of old since I was 10 I'm so obsessed with Len>< So I pretty much have a headcanon for everything under the sun about him! So this mini thing will be a breeze:>

Len is a very cautious lover.

Used to all the memes and hate he used to regularly get back when the Vocaloid fandom was rampant; he is very hesitant with just about everything he does lest it become yet another meme and another reason to make fun of him.

As you can guess this leads to major anxiety and constantly feeling like he has done something wrong.

Please don't let him feel this way.

This being said, he is great at recognizing panic/anxiety attacks long before they happen.

He has a tendency to memorize what triggers them and avoids those places/topics entirely.

It's almost like he was built to be some form of anxiety relief android. Maybe he has some beta coding for future therapy androids?

Either way despite his physical age and mindset his is incredibly observant and can read a person pretty well.

He has a tendency to make assumptions though.

Brush his hair and don't tell him he needs to whack his ponytail off.

He'll love you.

Maybe he will let you braid it if you ask nicely.

He owns a saluki named Happy. No questions asked.

No he does not co-own her with Rin. Happy is *his* dog and neither him or the dog will accept otherwise.

If his dog approves of you 9 times outta 10 he will too.

He also likes cats, he and Rin are just allergic.

If you're someone like me and covered in cat hair 24/7, he will sneeze around you all the time.

It's cute though.

Len sneezes are adorable.

He is bad at english/kanji class please help him.

That being said he is a math wizard.

If you're like me and suck at math he can help you don't need to worry.

He would probably just do your homework for you if you ask.

Which is why you shouldn't.

Len has a problem with doing things for others so he'll do just about anything (within reason) for you if he loves you enough.

We already know he would die for his sister if I had to guess he would die for you too if you won him over.

He will take his hoodie off for you and let you wear it. He never takes his hoodies off.

Please please protect him.

Him is verr ee wholesome.

Len has some serious self doubt issues (as I mentioned earlier) so remind him that he *is* talented and that his sister isn't any better than he is.

I mentioned earlier he is good at recognising the signs of a panic attack and I think he is just as prepared to handle them as he is good at sensing them.

If you need words of comfort he can provide you with those but if you just want him to hold you while you cry he can do that too.

He actually prefers the latter because he is afraid he may say something wrong.

He has attachment issues and separation anxiety.

To certain extent he has separation anxiety with his sister and dog but it's not as bad as it is with you.

He gets so nervous and scared. He doesn't like being without you.

He is also super attached to you because you aren't mean to him.

That's probably one of the big reasons he loves you so much; you treat him like a person.

Len gets angry when people say he is a little gay twink.

He likes girls too!

He thinks no matter what's in your pants if your beautiful and kind you are beautiful and kind>:[

Please play minecraft and animal crossing with him♡♡♡

He is often littered with band-aids for no reason. He thinks they look cool lol.

Big cuddler!

Winter and autumn are his favourite seasons because he can cuddle with you in bed and wear layers:)

He has *so* many blankets and he shares all of them with you!

Doesn't mind if you fart in the bed. Doesn't run away squealing in disgust like his sister. Literally could not care less it's no different from a sneeze to him. True manliness right there.

Apple cider is his favourite!

He loves the smell so much his room has diffusers everywhere in it and they all have the scent:)

He also has his windows open a lot of the time!

So it smells like that windy-open-window-bedroom *and* apple cider!

If you open his door without expecting it, it's like being hit in the face with essence of bard. (If you get it you get it.)

Hates anything to do with zombies. They trigger panic attacks in him because he knows he would survive because he is an android but he wouldn't know how to keep you and your loved ones safe.

Not knowing what to do in certain situations enduces anixety and panic attacks in him whether it be an on the spot question from a teacher or just thinking about a situation like such his room.

He cries a lot.

I mean he is adorable and it's impossible to not find him cute when he does cry but he has one of those crying faces that makes you just feel so much guilt and a need to protect him.

Smooch his cheeks when he cries, if you do it enough he cries a little less.

Don't make him bottle up his emotions though, but also help him to stop crying because it's not very good for his eye cameras.

His eyes can glow in the dark by the way.

Every android's can.

But his are so pretty! When they glow they are a bright, electric blue that fades into a slightly deeper shade and they are *so*, SO sparkly!!

Make sure to tell him his sparkle eyes are beautiful✨✨

He has a lot of plushies.

He likes Journey to the West and is a Sun Wukong enthusiast!

He really likes Dragon Ball so he wanted to know about the design origins of Goku and you get the picture.

He doesn't quite understand all the symbolism in JTTW but he still enjoys it regardless because MONKEY KING SMASH!!!

Has a lanyard that he really likes and doesn't take off often.

He has a Vocaloid tomogatchi and the little character in it is the same Rin he has had since he first got it back when they were released.

He can't let his sister die on him!

His sister has one with him in it that she takes just as good care of♡

They may argue all the time but they really do love eachother!

Len and Rin are you best friends and Len is the best, most accommodating boyfriend you could ever ask for so please treasure him and his sister you lucky you!

Handle with care U^U

#adelita writes #vocaloid #len x reader #len kagamine #kagamine len #vocaloid x reader

77 notes · View notes

facedented · 7 months ago

Text

GET TO KNOW THE MUN. || respond to the prompts out of character!

what made you pick up the current muse(s) you have?

uhm well i've been obsessed w/ this band & these characters ( especially 2D ) since i was a wee teenager,,,,,, his muse kinda came out of nowhere after a few years of being quiet & ran me over. he does not have a license.

is there anything you don’t like to write?

well obviously i wont write anything reprehensible or nasty but just like, surface level?? not that i can think of. it depends who / what muses im writing with, too.

is there anything you really enjoy writing?

any opportunity i can get to swim around 2D's head & make him retrospective is always a good time. i love exploring the complex thoughts characters have that we, as an audience, don't really get to see often -- or only catch glimpses of. i like getting messy & philosophical with it. but ofc angst tropes i adore, as well as found family. certain ships with 2D i also wouldnt mind exploring.

how do you come up with headcanons?

a lot of it is lived experience, i think. it'll be like "this character is just like me fr" & then i'll think of ways to make them even MORE like me. it's nice to see yourself represented, even in little ways. but sometimes i'll be inspired by fanfictions, music, tv shows . . . like i listened to an old panic! song & came up with a hc for 2D that way lmao. sometimes i'll just see humans doing human things & relate it to characters. my mind just doesn't shut up tbh

do you write in silence or do you play music?

always music. i feel like i'll pass out if i don't have some kind of sound going on constantly

do you plan your replies or wing them?

9 times out of 10 i'm winging it. sometimes, especially with first time interactions with muses from different fandoms or oc's i do some planning -- just to kind of get a grasp on who the other person is playing & how 2D would interact with them, or how their worlds would intersect. but if i worry too long it just makes me anxious haha so i just try to have fun with it & hope everyone else does, too!

do you enjoy shipping?

im lowkey kind of reserved with my ships for 2D fjksljflks i only really have two & im not really looking to do shipping rps unless someone mused those characters & felt comfortable, but it's fun to reference his feelings in threads!

what’s your alias/name?

you can call me cal!

age?

24 years young.

birthday?

september 7th! 5 more months.

favorite color?

probably green!

favorite song?

i love music, it changes all the time.

last movie you watched?

a friend of mine showed me the second avatar movie lol

last show you watched?

'baby reindeer' on netflix. chilling.

last song you listened to?

superfast jellyfish -- gorillaz. ( shocker. )

favorite food?

idk man i love to eat but uh. i am always in the mood for chinese food.

favorite season?

fall, by far.

do you have a tumblr best friend?

not atm! most of the gay ppl in my phone are on discord lmao

tagged by : shamelessly stole it

tagging ( only if you want to! ) : @rebelpuff , @manaborn , @poeticvocals , @okoden & @moralpuppet. & anyone else who would like to!

#( ooc. / dash games . )#should get to replies & things when i'm not so sleepy ghsjfs #so here's this in the meantime <3

3 notes · View notes

alltimefail-sims · 1 year ago

Text

I actually understand exactly where you're coming from. I find myself checking the wiki for more info on sims in TS4 and leaning heavily on other people's interpretations sometimes whereas I have a very clear understanding on who sims from TS2 franchise were. And what's crazy is that even the more popular sims in this community are popular not necessarily because of who the sims team "intended" them to be, but because of the fandom's interpretations/ability to fill in the plot holes.

One thing the sims team is going to do every time is give us some underdeveloped, half-baked townies!! (Although for some reason, in my opinion, they really delivered with the Horse Ranch townies for some reason?!)

This is a really interesting question! I think Mortimer listens to mostly wordless music: classical/baroque music/traditional Spanish-influenced instrumental music. Bella would also love instrumental music with traditional Latin/Spanish influence, but I think Bella also enjoys lyrical music/pop music with a good beat as she is a vivacious firecracker who is full of life and the life of the party imo! If they're listening to music with words (Bella does this more than Mortimer), they're probably listening to music sang entirely in Spanish/music by Spanish-speaking artists nearly every time. In fact, I personally think the Goths would speak Spanish mostly at home as well because I've never seen any of them as white people (yes this includes Mortimer!)

As for Cassandra and Alexander, I imagine they both enjoy alternative music in general - early 2000s pop punk is a shared love, and this is mostly Cass having an influence over her baby brother because he was a kid when those bands were popular haha. I could see them both screaming the words to any song off of MCR's "The Black Parade" album. But that's about as far as their similarities go: as they get older the differences in their personal tastes of music are more prevalent.

Cassandra loves classical/instrumental music like her dad. She also loves death metal and screamo, the more avant-garde the better (if most people would find it weird, niche, wild and/or loud, she enjoys it.) I don't listen to this kind of music, so I don't have an example off the top of my head but as a little bonus: I think Yuki Behr turned her onto Baby Metal lmao.

Alexander, on the other hand, likes a wide variety of music. I think he's probably the biggest "music lover" in his family who kind of just enjoys different stuff all across the board. He learned how to play piano through classical and baroque music, but he's not listening to that in his free time: he finds it far too rigid/restrictive. His favorite kind of music would probably be alternative rock that leans more indie/acoustic/folk like Hozier or Lord Huron. I think he enjoys some pop music, so long as it has good lyrics. He also was in drama club in high school and I think he enjoys several musicals! I also see him especially into stuff from the doo-wop and Motown era: anything between the 30s and 60s, and that's why I always say that Stephen Sanchez's music reminds me of the kind of music Alexander would make due to its spanish/doo-wop/pop fusion. (Listen to his new album "Angel Face" and you will get what I mean! I actually would consider Stephen Sanchez's singing voice/songs to be my Alexander Goth's voice claim!)

But those are just my personal takes and how I play them!

I don't have a ton of my own headcanons about Jesminder! I think her and Arun probably cause bisexuals to panic as they're both stupid hot!

All jokes aside though, I think they're criminally underrepresented townies. Jesminder has always struck me as this multi-talented person who lights-up-every-room and has that special kind of vibe that you can't put a name on - she just is charming, drawing people to her. I don't think she's a talker so much as she's a listener; she's wise and when she speaks it's because she actually has something to say (she doesn't just talk to talk). I think because of this, I imagine that as a bartender she has had many people confiding in her/asking her for advice lmao. She's the kind of person that calls you sweetheart and then will drop the most provocative, to-the-point rhetorical question or advice on you and it will change you forever you know?

And Arun is just like this super sweet hipster tech guy who probably drinks kombucha, rides his bike to work, and loves his wife like crazy and can't wait to be a dad. He has no idea how he bagged this woman but he is not about to question it in case she realizes she could "do better" (they're annoyingly in love though and she does not like when he jokes like that lol).

Someone needs to make a story that focuses on them because I think they seem to be an adorable couple with a lot of potential. I just think they're neat! (djservo's "Bros" story with Joaquin and Sergio has given me some Arun and Jesminder content but I need more!!!!)

#'I don't have a lot to say about Jesminder' I say like a liar and then word vomit. Lmao. Sorry about that!#the goths #the goth family #jesminder bheeda #arun bheeda #bella goth #mortimer goth #alexander goth #cassandra goth #sims headcanons #atfs ask #anon

7 notes · View notes

mathew-adams · 7 months ago

Text

◌◦☆!!INTRO POST!!☆◦◌

🄽🄰🄼🄴:

💌I go by many names/ nicknames so you can call me Jay , Mathew (I like spelling it like that don’t judge) , MJ, creative ik.💌

🫧🄿🅁🄾-🄽🄾🅄🄽🅂:

I consider my self androgynous so I don’t really care what you use for me ,but preferably leaning to more neutral pronouns🏳️‍⚧️:)!! (He/him/they/them/she/her for ref.) And yea I’m pretty fuckin gay ,bi to be exact , don’t know if you could tell my bowie being plastered all over

I AM A MINOR‼️‼️

BD{22-5},GEMINI :D!!.15-17, I like adding an element of surprise to my self ;)

🎨🖌️🄷🄾🄱🄱🄸🄴🅂:

Kind of a boring person but I’d like to believe I’ve got a few quirks in me

self proclaimed artist, I draw like a shit ton . I also read from time to time and would LOVE new recommendations. Kind of a movie nerd and really wanna get more into video games and comics . Huge fan of musicals . I also love studying fashion and fashion trends and thrifting.antiques and trinckets collector:D. Kinda into politics .

🎸🄰🄴🅂🅃🄷🄴🅃🄸🄲🅂/🄲🄾🄼🄼🅄🄽🄸🅃🄸🄴🅂:

Got a bit of everything in me ,

goth/gothic subculture , into the music , the fashion and the politics (still kind of a baby bat)

new wave, punk movement(into the music and still researching the politics),grunge, emo(into the fashion and music) , scene, vkei (listened to a few bands /songs and buy still very new to it !) and whatever the fuck David Bowie is on.

🕷️🄵🄰🄽🄳🄾🄼🅂:

prolly will forget a shit ton

JJBA, Good omens , banana fish, dorohedoro , y.o.i, given, Skate the infinity, saiki k, helluva boss (fandom and creator kinda sketchy tho) ,spooky month , salad fingers , modika magica ,adventure time,Steven universe forgot a shit Ton, hope I can edit this later 🥲 🎧🄰🅁🅃🄸🅂🅃🅂: mitski, david bowie ,the cure, dazey and the scouts, mcr, peirce the veil, panic!(before the controversy),joy division, deftones, siouxsie and the banshees, the smiths ,the cranberries, Depeche Mode, queen, fall out boy, mcCafferty(not anymore after learning what happened tho),the front bottoms , cheap perfume , and more !!

DNI‼️‼️‼️

I mean these should be obvious but whtvr

pro-shippers

haters (why you hatin 🤨)

weirdos

Toxic peeps

pro-isnotreales (get tf outa here) this a pro Palestine page🇵🇸🇵🇸

homophobes/transphobes /terfs

biggots

pro-millionaires and billionaires, there are no ethical billionaires 😐

annoying people over all , like I don’t mean it in a mean way but like if you’re just here to be annoying find somewhere else

☆I don’t tolerate any form of harassment/bullying/racism ect.☆

Hope I did this right :)

#goodomens #mitski #intro post #introduction #small artist #bowielove #bowieforever #Goth #new wave #alternative #emo #rawr xd #scene boy

6 notes · View notes

ao3feed-larry · 2 years ago

Text

Eternity

by lousfineline

"Why, H?" His lover's voice was tight, "Why did I act as such? Why didn’t you stop me?" He took a step closer. "It was you and I. What possessed me into such an act of betrayal?" He fisted the unbuttoned sides of Harry's blouse, "Speak to me, I beg. Speak to me, H." "Just because my darling," Harry whispered. "Just because what?!" Louis' gentle broken tone altered, evolving to one of anger, pure rage, his face crumpled in unshed tears. "What is life if it's not spent with my person for the end of my eternity?!" He sobbed.

The 17th century was one filled with magic, for the good and bad, selfish and self-less, forbidden words to be only used at desperate need and perhaps the feeling of desperation was taken too lightly. Harry was the son of a family that held legacies and heirlooms of powerful magic, magic that bloomed in health and hospitality of the hurt. And so the book said, if a mortal was to give up their human years and health, to the confines of another ill mortal, then they shall live in seclusion away from the remains of their spell. Or the spell would break, but not as easy as it came, not without drawing out the life of the spell using mortal.

Words: 9699, Chapters: 1/3, Language: English

Fandoms: One Direction (Band)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Zayn Malik, Niall Horan, Shawn Mendes, Helene Hørlyck

Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Additional Tags: I dont want to spoil anything so this will be extremely vague, Immortality, Sad with a Happy Ending, Angst, Poetry, Cuddling & Snuggling, alot of sappiness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Major - Freeform, Kissing, Protectiveness, Worry, Sad, Trying to move on, Pet Names, Life is unfair, Nostalgia, alot of it, I suck at this sorry, tryna be secretive and all, Fluff and Humor, Love, Eventual Happy Ending, Emotional Roller Coaster, AU, OT4, Domestic Fluff, Affectionate Insults, Panic Attack, Lots of kissing, Insecurity, Cheesy, A Bakery

via AO3 works tagged 'Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson' https://ift.tt/6Tw4lyX

#author #larry stylinson #larry fic #ao3 feed larry #Eternity #<p>by <a rel= href="/users/lousfineline/

10 notes · View notes

dailytomlinson · 4 years ago

Link

2020 is finally coming to an end, and we can’t say we’re disappointed about it. It sure has been a long way for everyone, yet some artists had a lot on their plate. Take a look at Louis Tomlinson’s year. As complicated as 2020 has been for him, he still unlocked achievements and outdid himself in the best way. So let’s take a look at how Louis Tomlinson made 2020 his year, let’s go!

Louis Tomlinson Released His Debut Solo Album Walls

After four years of anticipation, and a good two years of teasing, Louis released his debut album, Walls, on January 31st. The record received positive critics and fantastic feedback from his loyal Louies. From the party anthem ‘Kill My Mind’ to the emotional ‘Two Of Us’, with a few sweet escapes such as ‘Too Young’, not to mention the punchy ‘Always You’, the album brought the fans everything they had hoped for. In addition to that, Louis stole our hearts with heartfelt and sincere lyrics that only he has the secret of. Magic.

Louis Started His Worldwide Tour And Gave His First Solo Show

Louis started his worldwide tour in March before it got interrupted. Touring was what he had always been looking forward to, ever since he’d decided to start a solo career. Louis had expressed the exciting feeling and positive stress that he feels right before going on stage. Luckily enough, he had the time to perform twice in Spain at the beginning of March. His first whole solo show took place at Razzmatazz, in Barcelona, and reunited around 2000 fans (sold out). An hour and a half of musical bliss, a performer who shares a lot with his fans, and an incredibly talented band. What else?

Walls Went Number #1 In 53 Countries And Worldwide Upon Release

Louis Tomlinson made 2020 his year in the charts too. He always had a dedicated fandom, and that’s no surprise. However, he seemingly wasn’t expecting the global success of his debut album Walls. Indeed, it went number #1 on iTunes in 53 countries upon its release on January 31st, including the United Kingdom and the major part of South America. Not only that, but the album also climbed the iTunes Worldwide Chart to reach #1 in a matter of hours. Legends only.

Louis Released The Music Video for ‘Walls’, And It’s A Masterpiece

January 16th revealed the final single off Walls, the album, which was none other than the title track itself. Louis described it then as his proudest song on the album, with strong influences of Oasis. A few days later, on the 21st, Louis blessed us with the music video, shot in Morocco by Charlie Ligthening. The camera follows Louis through the Sahara desert and traces his path through a ballroom and dancing crowds. Some other scenes show him surrounded by masked people, or behind four silhouettes that he identified as his four former bandmates. The Easter eggs, the quality of the video, and the suit (yes, the suit, don’t you lie) made it a fans’ favorite, for it now counts more than 12 Million views.

Louis Reached 1.4 Billion Streams on Spotify

It looks like the fans’ streaming parties paid off this year. With only one album, four other songs, and remixes or edits, Louis reached the milestone of 1.4 Billion streams on Spotify this year. Additionally, he also made it to 4 Million followers on the platform. The numbers speak for themselves, and the achievement is huge for an artist who only received little promotion for a debut album, stopped on its way due to the pandemic. Here’s to his first billion, and some more soon! Overall, Louis knows he can count on his devoted Louies to increase the number of streams significantly with new challenges, the way they did it in December with #12DaysOfWalls. (Original idea by @miss_always_you).

He Launched Only The Poets Internationally

If you’re a Louie, there are big chances that this name rings a bell. Only The Poets, a band coming from Reading in the UK, literally skyrocketed this year. After their first performance as Louis’ first act on stage at Scala in February 2020, their popularity started increasing. And Louis confirming them as his first European act only made it better for them. They continued their year with live-streams, private Zoom calls, and pre-listening sessions of their singles with fans. They ended it with a social distanced show in Banbury and a Zoom Tour in a few European countries and South America. And the mutual support Louis and these lads give each other is heartwarming.

Louis Decided To Part Ways With Syco

This one is for the fans. After ten years of collaboration with Sony’s label, Syco, Louis decided to part ways with them for a new adventure. He officially announced his decision with a tweet on July 11th that took no time to break the Internet. Soon enough, hashtags related to the news trended around Twitter, other artists, and radios congratulated him on his decision. Louies celebrated with funny memes and GIFs but made sure to surround Louis with love and support through it all. Now we wait (for the new label announcement).

Louis Didn’t Only Postpone His Tour, He Made It Bigger

Another proof that Louis Tomlinson made 2020 better. Not only did Louis pursue his dream and goal to tour, but he also grew it out. After postponing the tour three times, the newly announced European dates include a few more stops, including Reykjavik (Iceland), Warsaw (Poland), Prag (Czech Republic), Vienna (Austria), Zurich (Switzerland), and an additional date in Paris (France)! The shows sold out in less than 40 minutes, making it more than 15,000 tickets purchased. Due to the high demand in Zurich, the venue changed and 500 more tickets went on sale! In Argentina, a wild mobilization of fans on Twitter led him to open the whole Movistar Arena in Buenos Aires. Some additional tickets went on sale for the Chilean show as well. And guess what? They all sold out.

Louis Was Crowned Artist Of The Summer With 13 Million Votes

Still, doubting that Louis Tomlinson made 2020 his year? A radio station from Philadelphia, @965TDY, launched a Twitter award ceremony last summer to crown an artist ‘Artist Of The Summer’. Many polls, 13 Million votes, and 26 Billion points later, Louis was elected and was all over Twitter thanking his fans for their dedication. Louies had acquired the absolute record of 26 Billion points thanks to their votes on the radio station’s website, and thanks to their mass voting parties. Another proof that Louis and his fans are unstoppable altogether. The support is always undeniably strong, and so is the bond between the artist and the fans. Happy days.

Walls Magically Rises On The Itunes Charts In October

Indeed, nine months after its release, a new wave of fans bought the album on iTunes and made it rise in the charts. The magic truly happened after @UpdateHLD (a Twitter update account), reminded new fans to purchase the album if they had not already. Considering Louis gained a certain amount of fans during the global lockdown, the initiative went successful, and soon enough, Walls was climbing the charts just like it did on January 31st. As incredible as it seems, it even received its first #1 on the USA iTunes chart. Louis didn’t miss on thanking his fans for their continuous support, expressing how amazed he was by the chart climb.

Louis Offered An Online Live-Stream Show, #LTLivestream

Early December, Louis announced his first live-stream show from London for December 12th, entitled #LTLivestream. He promised a very special show, hosted by the platform Veeps, and didn’t lie. The general sale for the tickets (of course) crashed the website, making everyone panic. Louis then confirmed that the tickets were unlimited. The show was as incredible as originally announced, with an orchestra, fans participating through a digital wall, and a new haircut that conquered the fans. The numbers later revealed that Louis had sold over 160,000 tickets. #LTLivestream is the most sold live-stream for a male solo artist in 2020. Being the generous philanthropist that Louis is, he has given the $2.8 Million raised to many charities and his touring crew. The charities benefitting from the funds are FareShare UK, StageHand, Crew Nation, and Bluebell Wood. And they wonder why we love him.

Louis Surprised His Fans With A New Song Called ‘Copy Of A Copy Of A Copy’

Last but not least, after spending a year on a rollercoaster, Louis revealed a brand new song during #LTLivestream. He had been hinting at it through a teaser for the live-stream and via a cryptic tweet that made everyone think he was referring to ‘Copy Of A’ by Nine Inch Nails. However, he proved everyone wrong during the show with a brand new song. ‘Copy Of A Copy Of A Copy’ reminds us of the general sound of ‘Walls’ (the single), and stole everyone’s heart and soul once again. Immediately after the show, the fans asked Louis when the single would be out, to which he replied that he wasn’t sure about it being one. The disappointment faded away when he said it remained an option and would put it on the second album. We’ll take that.

And that, folks, is how Louis Tomlinson made 2020 his year for us! We have so many memories of Louis this year and can’t pick a favorite! What would be yours? And what do you think is yet to come from Louis next year?

#the honey pop #long post #press #2020 #louis tomlinson #291220

810 notes · View notes

thursday-writes-fanfics · 3 years ago

Text

Choose, part 4. (Reader x Jack Sparrow or Will Turner. )

Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean, Will Turner, Jack Sparrow.

Warnings: None lmao

Words: 2.3 K

First - Former - Next

It's been a while since my last update, so here you go!

One year had passed since the faithed night in Tortuga, where Y/N left everything she once knew behind, to seek the truth she needed to find within. One eventful year where she had gone alone through more than most would in their lifetime. Travelling along with different crews, battling across the seas and polishing her hastily growing reputation as one of the most fearsome pirates the world has ever seen. None dared voice their annoyance with her being a woman, for she had allies all across the seven seas. She had seen so much of the world, her confidence grown and her heart set aflame with adventure. Y/N was an even finer pirate and woman than she had been ever before.

Other pirates either wished to be her or be with her, the secrets of many slipped into her ears. It amused the young woman, and the many who worked in the brothels along the coasts. When Y/N needed information, it was not other pirates or navy officials she sought out. No, it was the brothels’ gossip she tuned her ears to. For the women there knew far more of the world than any other. All news came to their homes and it was all available for the famous pirate.

She had earned an even better reputation with them as well, as she sought out the women there the first thing she did each time she came ashore. She treated them kindly, paid for their food and brought along gifts, treating them like friends. Her actions earned her a handsome reputation with the women, and in each town she could always find a loyal embrace to keep her safe. After all, the women of the brothels ruled the cities from the shadows. To anger one of them was to anger an underground nation.

Y/N’s locks had grown long since the night one year ago, her clothing expensive and proud on her frame. A treat she gave herself due to her wide success in both informal and formal businesses. She was a true pirate, yet could strike a bargain with the British navy without a problem. After all, they too were afraid of her.

The feather on her black hat curled down to her shoulder, its size another show of her wealth and power. The weaponry which clad her shape were the most efficient, on all the ships of the sea, not even the British army able to supply her better. Only the finest for herself, the woman had decided. Dual pistols she had strapped to each side of her chest, and upon both hips she held blades, one magnificent sabre and one deadly cutlass, all adorned with the most elaborate details. These were all weapons to show, the rest she had hidden in pockets and secret departments on her curves. Small explosives and hidden blades were better kept in subtle crevices than to be seen by the naked eye when one made deals. All about the fearsome pirate screamed confidence and to show respect, and that respect she had earned many times over.

“We’ll be docked in an hour, lass,” came the captain’s voice, the merry band she was travelling with now not as roughhousing as most of her fellow pirates. Mercenaries of the law they were during the day after all, and they weren’t too keen on going out during the night when there was ale to be drunk with stories to be told in old taverns. It was a life-altering change from how they had once been, when the captain and his crew had been young and adventurous. A smirk clad Y/N’s lips when she faced the man, her fingers fiddling with the sabre’s handle. “Aye, thought it was about time to dock, Captain Henry. And still I’m not sure if I will take my leave of you when we get there, or if I will meet the navy together with you in the morrow,” her deceptive nature made the captain laugh, for he knew just how little control anyone had over the young pirate. He joined her side with a few strides to the railing, gazing at the sea from the quarterdeck.

“Aye, ye do as ye wish, lassie,” mused the older man, finding his gaze once more sought out her face. “Yer not notorious for knowing every pirate for no reason. Can’t keep ye in place forever” he snickered, his mind on the many rumours he had heard over the past year of the pirate. He had seen it himself a few times too, how the famous Y/N had stepped off one ship only to board another in the same port. Her name was known by all, whether they liked her or not. Her presence on a ship could deter a dispute between two crews, for no one wanted her gone. And those who did were quick to find themselves cornered and silenced for good after voicing such atrocious thoughts aloud.

“Oh shut your gob, “ sneered the woman in reply, earning more laughter from the captain as his head fell back to let the thunderous noise wash over the ship. A simple “Never,” Henry retaliated, winning their argument as he strode to attend his crew and ensure the docking process would flow smoothly. Y/N watched the sea for a moment longer, trained on the horizon in an attempt to find a peculiar ship. One which carried black sails. Fingers carded through her hair as she thought about her old companions, but discarded the thoughts just as quickly. A turn of her heels and the woman came to face the incoming port, nothing she wished to see there either. A defeated smile curled her lips when she ventured to help her current crew, missing the hint of black that rounded a nearby island with a course for their port.

“ Alright, lads!” with easy leaps and muscles bunched for one last jump, Y/N climbed halfway up the crow's nest and gazed down at the many faces who all gave her their full attention.

“ I’m saying this just once because Henry doesn’t seem to be able to get it through your thick skulls. If we don’t get this cargo to the bay within the first few hours of us getting to port, the taverns will be full and the brothels closed,” the crew stared at the woman, most having just woken up from their midday nap. Too many faces were disinterested, the woman sneering maliciously as she knew exactly what would get them on their feet.

“Which means, no ale and no lovers!” Y/N roared, drawing enjoyment from the panic growing in the men’s eyes. They had been at sea for a month now, and the lot needed more than the icy waters could ever offer.

“So unless you wish to mope around the ship for the entire night, alone, get to it!” the crew leapt to their feet, their rushing steps and loud cries satisfying to Y/N’s ears. The pirate’s piercing eyes found the captain who let his chest heave with a sigh, not one to question the woman’s authority. She had gotten the crew off their asses with a single threat, when he had shouted at them all day to get ready. The ship groaned when they threw down the anchor, straining against it as it still wished to traverse further. A gangplank found its hold against the port, the cargo soon to cross over it. Both the captain and Alexandra oversaw the process, to ensure their goods would be gone by the hour.

“Ye know,” Captain Henry spoke after a long while, arms crossed over his broad chest. “Ye should consider becoming a captain one day,” Y/N snapped her head to face the man, eyes threatening to fall out. “Me? A captain?” she ridiculed, shocked by his words. The captain let a snicker pass his lips at her surprise, for being able to shock the immovable Y/N was quite amusing. Work roughened hand, tainted by the deep sea came to rest on his back, clasped together.

“Just sayin’. Ye’ve got the guts and respect for it,” with a smirk the captain passed his current crewmate, stepping onto the railing. “I will leave the rest to ye, for I am in need of a drink,” a wink was sent the woman’s way before Captain Henry made his way down the docks, disappearing without a trace. His back was followed by Y/N’s incredulous gaze.

“You fucking bastard,” Y/N shouted after him, her spiteful words only a show of affection to them both. With a shake of her head and a smirk on her lips growing when she heard the captain’s faraway laughter, the pirate got back to work. With an easy step, she leapt atop the railing, gazing at the crew working by her side.

“We’re making good time, lads! If you keep this up you’re probably going to be one of the first crews of the night to get to the pubs!” Y/N encouraged them. The merry men laughed and cheered whilst their work pace increased tenfold at the praise and promises of entertainment. Even the stand-in captain dared to laugh herself, unaware of how many eyes watched her joy from far out at sea.

It started with Ragetti looking through the captain’s spyglass, minding his own business as they had yet to start preparing to get docked. When turning his eye to the port city, he could tear his wandering gaze when it laid eyes on an extremely familiar figure. Too far away to make out entirely, yet the pirate was certain of who he saw. None he had ever encountered before looked and stood like their old acquaintance.

“Oh, would you look at that!” the pirate laughed, Pintel looking over at him with a raised brow. The spyglass fell from his eye, Ragetti free hand pointing to one of the largest ships docked in the nearing port.

“Y/N is aboard Henry the Savage’s boat!” the words he spoke carried over the deck, the silence that followed deafening, the group trying to comprehend what had just been said. A moment later and the crew rushed like a stampede for the two pirates who shrieked in fright at the threatening approach. The spyglass was taken from Ragetti’s hand and passed to them all to get a look for themselves.

“I can’t see ‘er!”

“Is it really Y/N the Courageous you saw?”

“Courageous? No! Her title is the Unbeatable!

“No, she’s Y/N the Ace of the Sea! The greatest pirate yet!”

The commotion on deck drew Will and Jack from the captain’s cabin, the crew’s loud and incoherent discussions about titles and names soon finding their ears. The former blacksmith was with the crew temporarily, as he had a job to be done with them before they ventured to Port Royal. Both captain and his companion froze in their steps when a well-known name echoed across the crew over and over. A shocked gaze was shared, but the two strode forth together for they could not believe in illusions just because a name was mentioned a few times.

“Right. What’s all this then?” came from the captain’s chest, the crew jumping at the sound of his voice. Jack Sparrow regarded them all with his hands propped on his hips, the loyal blacksmith at his side. Gibbs was the first to speak and took matters into hand, roughly pulling the spyglass from the nearest pirate’s. “It’s Y/N, Jack,” his words piqued further interest in the two newcomers, the two striding through the parting crew to the first mate.

“Y/N?” Will asked, unable to hide the hope that bubbled up in his voice at the mention of her name. The blue eyes grew clearer, not the wistful one’s the crew had come to be familiar with. Jack snatched the spyglass from Gibbs’ offered hand and turned to face the port. With his gaze, he followed the finger pointing at the supposedly familiar pirate. Jack froze upon seeing who they meant, eye narrowing when he stared her down. “No, it can’t be her,” the captain muttered, more to himself than anybody else.

“Far too curvy and longer hair. She didn’t look so cheerful to everyone all the time,” the jealousy and denial dripped from the captain’s tongue, the disbelief he held in his heart fading with each second.

“Can’t be her. No way, you’re all dreaming,” Jack continued before yelping as Will tore the spyglass from his hands, the force of it almost making the captain fall overboard. The blacksmith’s own gaze sought the port for the one they spoke of, his heart beating so quickly it drowned out all sound.

He too came to stand still once he found her form. She stood proud and tall upon Henry the Savage’s railing, her hand thrown out as she barked orders to the crewmates. And there on her lips was a grin, a grin that only the closest of her friends had seen before. Now as she shared it with the rest of the world, the former blacksmith’s blood boiled with jealousy.

“It’s her. There’s no way it’s not her,” Will snarled in reply to Jack’s incessant mumbling, handing the spyglass to Cotton. Will turned to the Black Pearl’s crew, and just like the woman on the other ship, began to bark orders. Where hers had been kind and joyous, he’s were angry and determined orders, none on the ship daring to stand in his way. The desperation in his anger was evident, and the fact that their own Captain Jack did nothing but mumble was a telltale sign that this was a serious matter. Otherwise, Will would have had a sword at his neck for even attempting to command the crew. Their efforts to hurry were doubled, when Jack regained his mind only to shout orders alongside his friend.

Oh, how oblivious the woman they had sought for was, for she heard none of the shouting on the nearing ship. For her well-beloved face was already being shown in one of her favourite taverns.

158 notes · View notes

2af-afterdark · 2 years ago

Text

Kinktober '21 - Day 19: His and No One Else's

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: F/M

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Relationships: Belphegor/F!MC

Characters: Belphegor, F!MC

Additional Tags: Semi-public, jealousy, possessive behavior, unhealthy relationship, cunnilingus, dark fic, dubious consent

Summary: Belphie caught you talking to someone else

A/N: Belphie is yandere? Maybe? IDK! He just decided to be a very bad person in this fic.

Word Count: 849

It’s not like you were flirting with that demon! All he did was stop to ask you for directions and all you did was point him where he wanted to go. It was the kind of conversation that barely registered as a blip on your radar; you couldn’t even remember the demon’s hair color because of how inconsequential the interaction had been. But Belphie didn’t seem happy with you speaking to another demon. In fact, the faint smile on his lips as he waved the other demon off and dragged you away while taking your hand in his was a thinly veiled threat; you are mine.

He gripped your hand so tightly in his own that you thought your fingers were going to break. There was no rush in his walk, allowing the panic and fear to build up inside of you as your thoughts ran wild with what was possibly going through his head. You were sure that no one around could tell as you both walked past the crowds and other demons, but he was pissed. How dare you talk to another demon.

Neither of you stopped. Instead, he simply threw you into the first ally he could find and guided you just far enough away from the crowd that you wouldn’t readily attract attention. His knee pushed against your mound, rubbing you through the fabric of your underwear and listening to the uneasy sounds you made. How he wished he could hear more of those sounds. He just couldn’t resist.

“Shhh,” he whispered into your ear, “This will fill good as long as you’re good.”

You felt his hands sneak into the band of your panties, which he pulled down with one swift motion so that you were now standing with them around your knees and your short skirt was the only thing keeping you decent.

A smile painted his face as he stared up at you, sinking slowly onto his knees. His hands massaged your thighs, loving the feeling of his finger and claws sinking into your skin as he held you still so that he could give a long, languid lick to your tempting folds. Your essence lingered on his tongue and he saw stars. You were so good. You knew better than to let other people flirt with you. You knew better than to attract their attention or pique their interests.

“It’s alright, Sweetheart, I forgive you. I know you love me. After all, you wouldn’t let anyone else do this to you, would you?” He smiled up at you from between your legs before shifting his attention to the little bundle of nerves he’d been carefully avoiding.

He practically keened at the sound you made as he began to suck softly at your swelling clit. If he didn’t know better, he would assume it was inhuman in origin -- broken and reverberating in his ears like the lamentations of a specter -- but he did know better. He knew that it was just the sound of him slowly wringing pleasure out of you.

He wanted the entire world to hear it. Let each of these demons learn whose name you cried as they brought you pleasures that humans couldn’t fathom. Let them see first hand that you belonged to him so completely that he could have you however, wherever, and whenever he wanted. Let them see his pact on your skin and understand that he had long claimed ownership over the human that dared call themselves master over one of the Devildom’s lords. Then no one would dare to approach you.

But, at the same time, he refused to share this side of you with anyone. The expressions on your face, the sounds you made, the way your legs trembled for him… all of it belonged only to him. If anyone else saw this side of you, he couldn’t help but imagine how angry he’d get. At them for daring to look at you, and at you for daring to attract their attention. Both crimes were unforgivable.

Even so, he wanted both of them. Let them come. Let them see. But let them learn that it is a mistake they will only make once. Learn that you are his, then let them learn that encroaching on what is his comes with consequences.

“If you’re so loud, someone will come to see where all the noise is coming from.” He snickered at his own words, watching as panic spread across your face and thinking about how stupid you were. Of course he wouldn’t let anyone get away with seeing his human in such a state. He would rather rip their heart out in front of you for daring to interrupt this moment before returning to it, but he knew you. He knew you knew how he’d react if that happened, and he knew you didn’t want it to, so you forced yourself to stay quiet, and he would enjoy each moment of trying to break your resolution so he could finally decide where he stood on the matter. It was only a matter of time...

#2af writes #obey me smut #belphegor smut #afab fic #cw possessiveness #cw oral sex #cw public sex #cw dubcon #cw unhealthy relationship #kinktober 2021

9 notes · View notes

baku-bowl · 3 years ago

Text

broke 1,000 followers (the fuck? I don't even make content people), so decided to write up a list of some (but not all, I'll make other lists later) of my favorite Bakugou-centric fic recs. my tastes run towards hurt/comfort, as you'll probably figure from the list. if there are some Baku-centric fics that you've enjoyed that aren't on here, please add them - this is definitely not a complete list of the ones I've read and love, but I'm always up for some recs. <3

fair warning, most of these are wips.

------------------------------------------------

Social Media 101 by WindsChild8178

Part 1: Survival Guide to Fucking Up

[Solely Bakugou’s point of view]

Katsuki Bakugou doesn’t have a gentle bone in his body. He’s aggressive in everything he does and does everything with 100% of his heart in it. After the Sport’s Festival, Katsuki starts to get harassed by strangers for his unheroic demeanor. It starts with letters but it doesn’t end there. The moment Katsuki realizes the harassment has entered dangerous territory and he needs to tell someone, it’s already too late.

Part 2: Post Traumatic Life Disorder

[Point of View opens up to Bakugou, teachers and classmates]

When the Dorms are finally built, everyone is settling in well, but things become tense as people begin to realize something isn’t right with the recently rescued Bakugou.

[Cannon compliant right up to after the License Exam]

hands down my favorite fic in the fandom right now. it’s the one that converted me into a Bakugou lover. if you have any fondness for Bakugou as a character then it’s likely you’ve read this one already, but if not, I can’t recommend it enough. incredibly depressing, but with the hope that comfort is coming soon in the next few chapters.

The Kids Will Be Alright, Eventually by NotWithThatAttitude

Bakugou is spiraling in the aftermath of Kamino and his friends are starting to notice. He's stubborn, aggressively independent, and less than willing to dig into his past, but after a breakdown that ends with a painful secret revealed, he starts to get help.

Whether he likes it or not.

Meanwhile, a new kind of villain threatens an uneasy peace following the loss of Allmight. Whispers build as a new narrative slowly takes shape:

Hero society needs to change.

Feat. Therapy, Dadzawa, best boy Kirishima, dysfunctional families, healing, growing up, and the mortifying ordeal of being known

guys.. the medical accuracy of this fic is just... *chef’s kiss*

I rarely see mental health genuinely handled well in fics, but this one goes above and beyond. kudos to the author for doing such excellent research into psychology, and making the application of it in here not-boring. also, while this one does have abusive!Mitsuki, it’s done in a way that feels realistic, and how I usually will see it occur in real life, rather than just for the hurt/comfort feels.

fair warning, the fic can be incredibly triggering (themes of severe depression, PTSD, panic attacks, rape survival, abuse survival, suicidal ideation/attempted suicide, among other things), so be safe and heed the tw’s if you decide to read. legitimately one of my Top Favorite fics in this fandom.

Lock and Key by autochorystalize

Bakugou made a choked, gravelly noise before croaking out a low, “You can’t be serious.” His fingers ached to blow up everything in the room.

“I’m sorry, young man, but you can’t change reality! This sometimes happens.” Recovery Girl clicked through his file, adding a new symbol in a previously empty slot.

- - -

A pair of eyes discreetly locked on to an explosive blond plowing his way forward, parting people in his path. He recognized the kid, of course. Anyone in the underbelly of society would recognize him, after the publicity of both UA’s Sports Festival and the events leading up to All Might’s fall. The uniform he was wearing cast away any doubts about the young man’s identity.

It was a bit of a surprise that the little firecracker presented as an omega.

- - - - - - - - -

Or: there are certain types of evil that seemed too distant, archaic violations and perversions that would never actually threaten bright-eyed heroes-in-training in the clean, modern world...but sometimes those evils aren't as distant as one might think.

remember when I said that I love a/b/o fics that are full of plot and world-building and gender-induced tension? that’s this one. the OC’s are fabulous and you love to hate ‘em. also, it’s the fic that made me fall head-over-heels for the TodoBaku dynamic, so it’s got a special place in my cold, dead heart.

be warned, there are rather explicit non-con scenes between an adult (OC) and a minor (Bakugou) in this one, but the author warns for them in advance, and you could likely skip those parts without missing too much if you need to.

Never and Always, Eventually by Wawa_Boonliang

"Katsuki can remember the exact moment that he and Deku…that he and Midoriya Izuku became friends. He can also remember the moment he and Izuku became fierce rivals, a time when they were almost enemies.

However, what he remembers most clearly about their relationship is the moment that they moved passed rivals and became something more close than mere friends. Something more like brotherhood, something forged in fire and secured in the middle of a battlefield or in the midst of natural disaster where the number of the dead was climbing ever higher. And then it was torn from him."

Katsuki is given a second chance. A chance to save everyone. A chance to change everything.

But should he?

y’all. I’m a slutty, slutty whore for time travel fics. a time travel fic with autistic!coded Bakugou? it was love at first read.

Lessons Learned by Sif (Rosae)

Rather than the police station, Katsuki's friends bring him to a hospital after rescuing him from the villains. His wounds were minor, but it didn't make having them treated any less important. As it would so happen, Best Jeanist was also brought to this hospital after the attack.

Sometimes, small choices have a big impact on how a story plays out.

classic Bakugou hurt/comfort. this fic opened me up to the potential that could be a genuinely good Best Jeanist & Katsuki mentor-mentee relationship, and I kind of dig it and search ravenously for it in other fics now. I’m also a huge fan of the behind-the-scences Pro Hero Chat group.

Slope by sunfleurmoon

“I’m not a hero. Or a good person,” Katsuki says, giving Aizawa a pointed look, “So leave me alone. I don’t care about the League or UA, or you—” The two years he’s been away have been fine, more than fine, fucking fantastic actually if you ignore the bi-monthly near-death experiences. He doesn’t need this place. He doesn’t miss this place.

And yet, longing, a childish desire to tear up, or maybe blow something to bits, they all twist in his chest like a band of traitors regardless. “—I just want to go home.”

Or: the one where Katsuki and Izuku fail the first term exam, Aizawa discovers their pasts, and Katsuki is booted from UA. Featuring questionable descriptions of villain organizations, a slightly illegal moving shop, and your favorite emotionally constipated badass in distress with a newly discovered penchant for collecting strays.

paaaaaaiiiiiiiin. the hurt is ALIVE in this one. lots of tortured, angsty exploding child goodness. the OC’s are excellently crafted, and the Bakugou & Eri relationship? beautiful. definitely deserves a read.

Ground Zero by WindsChild8178

In the wake of Kamino, Katsuki is tested more than anyone could imagine. Bound by a villain’s quirk to keep his silence or die, he lives each day knowing it might very well be his last. He continues to work towards becoming a hero, keeping his secret from his classmates and teachers, focusing on making it through each day and trying not to allow the panic or depression to get the best of him. When the villain finally corners him with demands in exchange for his life, there is really only one answer Katsuki Bakugou can give.

honestly don't know which I want updated more - social media 101 or ground zero. this author's fics are amazing, and I really wasn't expecting the twist in this one. can't wait for windschild to come back to this fic some day.

The Defect by LadyGreenFrisbee

"Why do you want to win the Sports Festival so badly?"

Because I want to see if the defect could usurp the masterpiece.

(In which Endeavor holds a terrible secret and Bakugo has to suffer since childhood for it.)

a great concept, and I adore the shouto and Katsuki sibling interaction here. hoping the author will come back to this one some day.

A Name That You'll Remember by Heronfem

Kirishima Eijirou is a Hero. Bakugou Katsuki... is not. Trapped in his toxic workplace and increasingly desperate to get out, Red Riot's days are only brightened by a new villain known as Caution, who's not exactly villainous and keeps accidentally doing good deeds. But when a real villain appears, a threat from the past that demands that Red Riot make the ultimate sacrifice to keep the public safe, Bakugou is forced into saving the day... and eventually, Red Riot himself.

sob story good guy villains are my weakness, this fic is a gem, and I'd kill for the sequel.

Our Hero by AnonymousTwit

He felt everything jerk to the side and throw his balance off before he saw anything, dust clouding his vision and irritating his lungs as the earth itself opened up to swallow them whole. For a single moment, in a millisecond's time, his wild eyes locked with Raccoon Eyes', hers alight with fear and adrenaline-fueled desperation. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that it was the first time she'd looked at him with something other than long-deserved hatred in days.

And then he was free falling.

After a particularly nasty encounter between childhood friends, the class learns about Bakugou and Midoriya's dark history and practically ostracizes Bakugou while trying to defend Midoriya. An earthquake during an outing has all sides regretting their decisions.

just fucking tear apart my self-sacrificing faves in every way imaginable while their loved ones watch on in terror. 💖🥰💖 this one is heavy on the Bakusquad and Class-1A feels, and VERY heavy on the Mina & Bakugou relationship (platonic).

Running back the tape, watching it replay by Faralyne

For someone ripped from their time, ripped from the few but strong relationships built by time and personal development, by self-reflection and swallowed pride, ripped from the one thing that made him feel worthwhile and needed and put-together, and forced to forge everything over again—Katsuki thinks he is handling it pretty fucking well.

A villain’s quirk sends a 29-year-old Bakugou back in time to his middle school days.

am I a sucker for time travel? yes. am I a sucker for vigilante!bakugou? also yes. am I a sucker for this fic? literally refreshing the page in wait for an update as we speak.

Liability by sandelf

After All-Might dies rescuing Bakugou from the League, Bakugou is determined to prove it wasn't for nothing.

But the world is against him, his grief is overwhelming, and his stability is splitting at the edges.

very self-indulgent bakugou angst. tw for harassment, severe depression, and suicidality.

Special Mentions:

How To Win The Sport Festival: A Step By Step Guide by mhwright

Short re-imagining of the Sports Festival Arc if Shinso had planned a little better and worked a little harder to win the Sports Festival and if the match-ups had been slightly different. Self-indulgent fic of watching him succeed.

this is completely Shinsou-centric, not Bakugou-centric, but I love and adore it and am dying for a sequel. Shinsou is Best Boy here and you'll be rooting for him the whole time.

#fic rec #katsuki bakugou #bakugou #seriously though if you have a rec for me please always assume i will be unbearably grateful for it #and hit me up with it in the comments or through messaging #thanks for the follows y'all!

62 notes · View notes

makeste · 4 years ago

Text

BnHA Chapter 300: Days of Our Todorokis

Previously on BnHA: Hawks was all “hey Jeanist, wanna go on a road trip with me to my mom’s house?” Jeanist was all “you know it,” and so they hopped into Jeanist’s jercedes and took off. Hawks took a nap and had a flashback to his Dickensian childhood living in a abject poverty with his jerk mom and jerk dad, thinking heroes were make-believe until one day Endeavor arrested his dad and Baby Hawks was all “OH SHIT.” And then he saved a bunch of people, and the HPSC was all “what do we have here,” and blah blah blah, you know the rest. Back in the present, Hawks was all “well my life is currently in shambles, but on the plus side there’s no one bossing me around anymore so that’s pretty cool,” and then decided he was going to talk to Endeavor. Fandom was all “I can’t believe Hawks would side with his childhood hero over the man who burned his wings off and posted a video calling him a violent murderer who took after his abusive dad,” so that was fun and stuff. I can’t wait to see what piping fresh takes this new chapter will bring.

Today on BnHA: Our old friend Carbonation Carl tries to loot a Starbucks and gets his ass kicked by a senior citizen. Society is all “YEAH, WE’RE REALLY STARTING TO GET SICK OF THIS SHIT.” Old Man Samurai is all “this room won’t stop me because I can’t read it” and abruptly decides to retire, which, fun fact, is literally THE LEAST HELPFUL THING ANYONE HAS EVER DONE. Anyway so then a bunch of other punkasses follow suit, and while I won’t say that I’m actually starting to root for Stain to kill some peeps, just for the record I’m not not saying that either. Back in the hospital, Endeavor cries some tears because his life sucks, and then is confronted by his entire family, LED BY QUEEN REI, FIRST OF HER NAME, BACK IN BUSINESS AND LARGE AND IN CHARGE. Rei is all “fuck feeling sorry for yourself, we have a rogue Murder Son on the loose” and I swear to god I have never felt so alive.

so here we go! and just for the record, even though the last two chapters have been phenomenal, I don’t necessarily have any sky-high expectations for chapter 300, mostly because chapters 100 and 200 consisted of Mei Boobs, and Toadette and her horrific quirk lmao. so go ahead Horikoshi, what are you gonna pull out of your hat for this one

oh, back to this stuff again. sob

I guess there was only so much time we could spend having hospital antics and exploring Hawks’s past before we got back to dealing with the whole “the world has gone to absolute shit” issue huh, lol

omg

what’s with these bizarrely cute Noumus. why do I want to pet them

so the narrative text is going on about how people have been super paranoid about the Noumu ever since the USJ incident a year ago. so yeah, I guess the fact that there are now a bunch of them confirmed to be running around is really freaking people out even on top of everything else

wtf is happening here

what did this poor lil glass ever do to anyone. r.i.p.

OH MY FUCKING GOD

SODA SAM IS BACK ON THE LAM

tsk tsk tsk. my man has graduated from snatching purses to raiding cafes. going after that big money. this man has no business sense whatsoever lmao

OH BUT WATCH IT NOW!!

OH SNAP THE PEOPLE ARE FIGHTING BACK. WHATCHA GONNA DO NOW SAM

THIS MAN IS 172 YEARS OLD AND HE’S NOT HERE TO PLAY GAMES!!

WTF IS HE LIGHTING THIS THING ON FIRE OR SOME SHIT. GETTEM GRANDPA YEAHHHH HE’S CHARGING AT EM YEAHHHHHH

lmao so that was fun. and now we’re cutting to Wash!! omg. look at him

he’s so dedicated. too bad you don’t have a car like Best Jeanist. probably takes a while when you’re just running everywhere

you see?? you were too slow!!

NOOOO, GRANDPA. he defeated Pepsi Pete, but lost his life in the process. this is too tragic

anyway so the good news is that the cafe has been saved! but the bad news is, there really isn’t much of a cafe left. huh. I guess that’s one of the reasons why people are supposed to get a license to use their quirks like this

oh snap and now everyone is coming outside, and they’re none too happy to see poor old Wash over here

seriously Wash, get a bicycle or something. also the way this guy is gesturing so dramatically with his hand in this sort of “YOU SEE!! YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENS!!” manner is sending me

OH MY GOD

HE SPEAKS. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS. IT MEANS JEANS PUNS ARE YESTERDAY’S NEWS, FOLKS!! MAKE WAY FOR THE LAUNDRY PUNS. CAN’T WAIT TO WATCH THIS ALL... UNFOLD

“the heroes had dwindled away” okay real talk you guys, it is literally only a matter of time before they press-gang the children into picking up their slack. I still don’t know how to feel about that, but it is happening one way or the other regardless. Child Soldiers 2 Electric Boogaloo. wonder if we’ll see a rise in vigilante action as well

OHO WHAT’S THIS? THIS IS A CHAPTER OF GRANDPAS HUH

-- no fucking way

WOW. WOW. WOWWWWWW

wow. so he didn’t do a fucking thing while the rest of the top ten were being turned into red mist in the previous arc, and now that it’s all over and they need his help more than ever, he decides... THAT IT’S TIME TO RETIRE. holy shit. “fuck you” doesn’t even begin to cover it my guy. you stand there and soak up those boos you coward

ohhhhhhh shiiiiit you guys. oh shit

the “I am not here” breaks my fucking heart for real though y’all. oh man. everything he worked for is gone just like that

(ETA: okay so a couple of the takes I’ve seen on this make it seem like All Might is somehow the bad guy here?? “this is what happens when society puts a bunch of glorified cops on a pedestal”, “finally the cracks in hero society are showing”, etc. etc. so, just a friendly reminder that this isn’t happening because of too much trust and a lack of critical thinking; this is happening because the villains killed all the heroes and broke a bunch of murderers out of jail. it’s happening because an organized league of terrorists succeeded in terrorizing, and so society is now understandably awash in fear and panic. like, it’s just wild to me that AFO is RIGHT FUCKING THERE, and yet week after week fandom still has their “IT’S ALL THE HEROES’ FAULT” signs still up on their lawns. BUT WHATEVER, MOVING ON.)

also though, so exactly how much time is passing here now? I wanted to go straight back to the hospital and see what happens with Deku and the Todorokis. please don’t tell me we’re jumping ahead sob. my aaaaangst

OH SHIT

STAIN. LISTEN UP BUDDY. I KNOW WE’VE HAD OUR DIFFERENCES, AND I STILL DESPISE YOU FOR CRIPPLING TENSEI AND TRYING TO KILL MY BEST BOY TENYA. BUT AS IT HAPPENS, THERE ARE ONE OR TWO OTHER HEROES OUT THERE NOW WHO I WOULDN’T MIND YOU PAYING A VISIT I’M JUST SAYING

LOL BUT IT ACTUALLY ISN’T THIS MAN, FFFFFF

sob. yeah I was talking about Old Man Samurai actually but YEAH. HEY THERE ENJI

also is this entire hospital actually run by characters from Super Mario Bros though. first Yoshi and now this guy, come the fuck on that is not a coincidence

lmao they stuck him in another one of these cavernous creepy hospital rooms

wtf is it with Horikoshi and these giant fucking rooms lately. Kacchan’s in chapter 298, then Tomie’s colossal house furnished with like one table and a TV, and now this. and the weirdest thing about it though is that “huge space with nothing to fill it up” is like the exact opposite of what you’ll usually find in Japanese homes lol

so now Enji is just sitting there thinking things like “my head is fuzzy” and “I’m alive” lmao okay. not quite all there yet, huh. I’ll give you a minute

I’m so fucking curious as to who his first visitor is going to be omg. either way it’s going to be interesting af, and either way fandom is probably going to feel some way about it but OH WELL

okay now his thoughts are getting more coherent! and he’s remembering Touya, and feeling regret for freezing up and forcing Shouto to deal with everything instead

!!! OH HERE GOES BRACE YOURSELVES Y’ALL IT’S ABOUT TO GET SPICY

NO TOUYA PLEASE DON’T CRY HONEY NO PLEASE

ohhhhhhh man

okay, I mean I didn’t expect you to, but so instead then you’re just going to do... what? lie there and wallow in regret and self-pity for the rest of your life? son you know that’s not how we deal with our problems here in Shounen

though also, I totally do get it though. honestly, thinking on it, I probably would have been disappointed with any other response. but so this is where the rest of his family (including his adopted son) come into play now though, because like it or not they’re all in this thing together. and so friends, I am once again asking you WHO IS GOING TO BE THE ONE TO VISIT ENJI FIRST

AHHHHHHH

KRANCH!!!! OMG AND THE OTHERS ARE SO TINY NEXT TO HIM THAT I ALMOST DIDN’T SEE THEM AT FIRST. IT’S BECAUSE THEY’RE TWENTY MILES AWAY ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS REGULATION HOCKEY RINK OF A ROOM

holy shit I’m so excited lkjlklhlglkasdsjldfk

SDKFJLSKHLKJL

the way she has him by his collar lmaoooo. “lol nah you’re not going anywhere pal.” damn straight, siblings have to be ride or die in situations like this. banding together for survival. strength in numbers

OH MY STARS I’M JUST WARNING YOU NOW THAT I’M ABOUT TO DISSECT EVERY LAST REMAINING PANEL OF THIS CHAPTER PROBABLY YOU GUYS. WE COULD BE HERE A WHILE

love how Fuyu has absolutely no idea how to segue into THE SINGLE MOST AWKWARD CONVERSATION SHE’S EVER HAD, so she just GOES FOR IT in pure small talk mode like they’re meeting up for brunch somewhere

I KNOW IT’S A SMALL THING, BUT I APPRECIATE THAT THE FIRST THING ENJI ASKS IS WHETHER THEY’RE OKAY

lastly while I can’t wait for more of this delicious Natsu angst, I also just have to say that Enji has as much reason to cry right now as anyone on the planet. you can’t deny that being confronted by your not-dead-but-you-thought-he-was-dead son who’s all “SURPRISE DAD I GREW UP TO BE A MASS MURDERER AND I HATE YOU AND EVERYTHING IS ALL YOUR FAULT AND NOW I’M GONNA MAIM YOUR OTHER KID” with a side order of “EVERYONE HATES YOU AND SOCIETY IS CRUMBLING AND NOTHING WILL EVER BE GOOD EVER AGAIN” is enough to bum pretty much anyone out. there’s a Pagliacci the Clown joke here somewhere. BUT DOCTOR, I AM THE NUMBER ONE HERO

oh man lol he is seriously falling apart

damn. like you guys, I’m sorry, go ahead and cancel me, but I do feel compassion for the man. it’s therapeutic for me to see an abuser actually feel remorse and be truly sorry and want to change and want to make it up to his family. and it’s also compelling as fuck to read a narrative about a family that’s trying to grapple with that, because let me tell you straight up, as someone who’s done a version of that song and dance -- it is exhausting. it is a piping hot mess. it’s a gigantic mishmosh of extremely volatile emotions that all somehow all contradict one another. love, hurt, hope, anger, betrayal, resentment, attachment, longing. it’s something you can both be desperate for and also want nothing at all to do with. and attempting to portray all of that and write about it is a monumental task, and one which Horikoshi has done so, so delicately thus far, and damn but I appreciate it. anyway, so I’m here and I’m ready for my latest helping of Todoroki Fam Feels you guys

GASP

oh man. OHMANOHMANOHMAN. CAN IT REALLY BE. IS THIS THE REDEMPTION ARC OF CHAPTERS 100 AND 200???

LMAO SHE’S ALL “WE ALL FEEL BAD YOU JACKASS STOP CRYING ABOUT IT”

LAY INTO HIM REI!! SORRY ENJI YOUR PITY PARTY HAS BEEN CANCELLED IN FAVOR OF A “SO WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT” PARTY COURTESY OF QUEEN ELSA OVER HERE. THE PEOPLE TOOK A VOTE AND WE WANT LESS WHINING AND MORE ACTION

oh my god look at this lady folks

NOTE THE HAIR BLOWING IN THE NONEXISTENT WIND. NOW WE KNOW WHERE SHOUTO GOT THIS POWER FROM

(ETA: btw guys, seeing Rei handle this crisis like an absolute champ despite everything she’s been through is everything, though. I’m reminded of Hawks’s line last week about people sometimes unexpectedly finding liberation when they’re backed into a corner. like things may be shit but goddammit her kiddos need her.)

THE CHAPTER IS ALREADY ENDING SOB, IT’S ONLY A 17-PAGER THIS WEEK, BUT GODDAMN WHAT A WAY TO CLOSE

oh my god. oh my god oh my god. AND FUCK YOU HORIKOSHI FOR CUTTING IT OFF THERE sob. it’s like each week the wait for the next chapter becomes more painful. the Todofam is about to get real, and on top of that Hawks is gonna crash the party at some point down the line, and on top of that we’re still waiting for Kacchan to have his own heartfelt discussion about What The Fuck Are We Supposed To Do Next with his best friend who’s currently in a coma. all I want to do with my life is read about these three things, and all I can do is simply wait as they are portioned out in agonizing, addicting little installments every week

anyway! tune in next time as we answer the question of whether or not fandom will finally run its train of logic all the way through to its natural conclusion and somehow manage to cancel Noted Abuse Apologist Todoroki Fucking Rei. don’t act like it can’t happen. you all know nothing is sacred lol. anyways but I’m ready for anything lol, bring it

#bnha 300 #endeavor #todoroki enji #todoroki shouto #todoroki rei #all them todorokis #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #I can't believe I've done 300 of these now lol #think I'm gonna finally have to update the post index again

341 notes · View notes

johaerys-writes · 3 years ago

Text

Fandom: The Song of Achilles

Pairing: Achilles/Patroclus

My entry for Day 1: Music & Day 2: Deities of @patrochillesweek 2021! Where the Greeks in Troy celebrate Dionysus' festival, and Achilles and Patroclus spend some time alone (~4.5k words, rated E for smut, check Ao3 link for full list of tags)

Read on Ao3!

Chapter 1: With a Shuddering Gasp

The music from the lyres and cymbals drifted through the camp, mingling with the crackling of flames from the many bonfires that had been lit. The celebrations for Dionysus’ festival had been going on for most of the day and the night before, and the scent of incense and wine hung heavy in the air.

I had never before attended such a festival. It wasn’t celebrated this widely in Opus or Phthia, where I had grown up. The Dionysia was among the largest festivals in Athens, celebrated with days and nights filled with drink, dance and theatrical performances of all kinds. Here, in the Achaean’s camp, where people from the farthest reaches of Greece gathered, it had quickly become a tradition.

I had been in the healers’ tent for most of the day, and now the moon hung high over the dark sea. My fingers were red from scrubbing, my eyes were tired, and the pungent scent of astringent was thick in my nostrils. I was weary, but it was a pleasant sort of weariness. When I worked, my mind was free of thoughts, of worries. I focused only on the act of healing, on helping the wounded soldiers as best I could. A bloody skirmish earlier that day had filled the beds in the tent to bursting, yet no lives had been lost. Perhaps the Trojans had been as tired of bloodshed as the Greeks were on that chilly February afternoon.

“Your wound needs to be cleaned and dressed once a day,” I told the soldier I'd been tending to, securing the bandage around his arm. “And stay away from the thick of the fight, if you can help it. Sweat and dirt will only slow down the healing.”

He nodded and stood up, limping away. I brushed the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand, letting out a soft sigh, just as Philomela, one of the healers’ assistants, approached me.

“It’s late, Patroclus,” she said. “You should join the celebrations, before they are over.”

I smiled at her. She was small in stature, with her wild curly hair bound in tight braids. She was one of Menelaus’ women, taken after an attack on one of the northern villages of Troy. She’d been brought to me one day with a cut on her thigh, her knees scraped, her eyes wide in panic and terror. I had been the first to treat her, and she had since regarded me with kindness and reserved affection. Menelaus was kind with his women, and he often let her join me while I worked, helping me, and I taught her what I knew.

“I don’t often join festivals like these,” I told her earnestly. “There's too much noise and commotion, and I am not a heavy drinker.”

“What about your prince?” she asked, her gaze darting away before settling on me again. “Achilles?”

The name was uttered quietly, almost apprehensively. It always stung, just a little, to know that the captives thought of Achilles with so much trepidation. His exploits had earned him something of a reputation, as I understood it: the Greeks revered him, while the Trojans feared the very mention of him. Philomela had visited our camp once or twice, and had seen that Achilles was quiet, almost gentle, when he wasn’t in his armour, yet a hint of disquiet was always there.

I shook my head, dipping my hands in the brass bowl that we used to clean ourselves. The water was cold and refreshing when I splashed it over my face and neck.

“Achilles does not much enjoy noisy gatherings like these either,” I said. “He... prefers being on his own these days.”

It had not always been so. Achilles relished the attention of others; he blossomed with it, and there was bound to be much of it if he joined in the celebration. His campaigns over the last couple of months had been met with overwhelming success, filling his men’s coffers with gold and riches and their camps with slaves. The leaders of the Achaeans would toast him and drink plenty of wine in his honour, the bards would sing of his achievements and his skill in battle until the early morning. Yet, boasting such as this was not always met with alacrity. There were many amongst the Danaans that envied Achilles the power of his station, and sneered at his reputation when they thought he was out of earshot.

Achilles was proud, and rarely paid attention to rumours and gossip. Yet, when he sometimes refused to grace Agamemnon’s lavish dinners with his presence, I could tell it was because the leader of the Greeks occasionally had trouble holding his tongue, especially after a few cups of wine. That was when the older man would gloat and boast, often blowing his own achievements out of proportion, in an effort to measure up to Achilles’ greatness, his promise of glory, the prophecy that had followed him since the moment of his birth, his reputation that only grew, day after day.

One does not need the blood of a goddess, he would say, his cheeks flushed from the drink, eyes gleaming, after recounting a story that was supposedly about a hero of old, if they have the favour of one. Would you not agree, Pelides?

Achilles pretended not to hear, not to know. He would smile at Agamemnon with all his teeth and toast him graciously, as Peleus had taught him, but he was still a man. He had learned to hide his true feelings from others, but I could still see how the whispers fuelled his frustration, how they turned him bitter, even when he insisted they did not.

Achilles was sharp and direct from nature; it troubled him when others were not. He wanted things to be simple and clear-cut, yet, here, they were anything but.

I sighed again, patting my hands dry on a linen towel. Philomela was by my side when we walked out of the tent, and into the festivities. The bonfires were burning high into the night, and from the lit braziers tendrils of incense smoke curled towards the stars. Soldiers and their women gathered around the heat, drinking and dancing to the rhythm of the music that the bands were tirelessly playing. Not a few were wearing animal furs, their faces darkened with soot, as was the custom.

No sooner had I walked out than someone grabbed me by the arm and thrust a cup of wine in my hands. I blinked up, startled, to see Diomedes grinning at me.

"Come," he said. "Drink. Celebrate with us."

I smiled politely and shook my head. "I really should be going back."

"What for?" Odysseus was quick to appear beside him, his usual easy smile ready on his lips. "You've been working all day. Everyone deserves a break, from time to time."

"That's right." Diomedes' wolfish grin got wider, his dark eyes sparkling. "All work and no play makes people dull, haven't you heard?"

Odysseus smiled encouragingly at me behind the rim of his own cup. "Have a drink with us. Just because he doesn't join us anymore doesn't mean you can't."

Of course he was referring to Achilles. It had not gone unnoticed that he had been avoiding gatherings such as these of late. I swallowed as I accepted the cup and reluctantly brought it to my lips. If my presence there could smooth those ruffled feathers, then a drink or two couldn't be that bad, could it?

The wine hit my tongue in a rush of heat, honey and spices. It warmed me as it glided down my throat, pushing the edges of my weariness away. I took another draught, letting its acidic sweetness jolt me awake.

My mild surprise must have been plain on my features, for Diomedes clapped me on the shoulder, chuckling knowingly. "That's it," he said, "that's a good lad. Now, drink up."

I didn't need further encouragement. The wine was unlike any I've ever tried; before long, I had drained my cup, and a servant had filled it to the brim again. The wild cadence of the drums and the flutes matched the beats of my heart, and I wasn't even thinking about my tired and aching limbs when Menelaus' arm wound around my shoulders, pulling me towards the writhing, undulating crowd.

In the smoke of the fires, in the heat of so many bodies moving close together, I forgot about my troubles, my worries. The edges of consciousness blurred, a mist that curled around me, rendering me indefinable. I closed my eyes and simply moved to the rhythm, blending into the crowd like a single petal amongst countless falling cherry blossoms, swirling with the wind.

In the depth of that mist, in the midst of that insubstantial territory, I saw him.

Achilles.

I saw him as he was once, years before, far away from the fires and blood of the war, from the intrigue, the whispers, the jealousy. I saw him running down the beach in Phthia, the pink undersides of his feet flickering. I saw the rich honey brown strands that hid in the depths of his golden hair, the wind that combed through them and brought them before his eyes when he turned to look at me. I saw him swimming in the stream in Pelion, the water running down his limbs in laze swirls.

I could see him clearly in my mind's eye, as if he were there. I could see him laughing, singing, playing his lyre in the pale light of morning, golden and vibrant and carefree. And in him, I saw myself.

I opened my eyes as the beat of the music reached a wild crescendo, as the people cheered and sang at the top of their lungs. Cups were raised high up in the air, wine swirling, overflowing, spilling from its confines and mixing with the brown dirt underfoot. Menelaus was dancing with one of his women — Aristea, his favourite, the fabric of her colourful dress tangling at her ankles as he swirled her about. Her laughter was drowned out by the noise, fading away.

I took a deep breath to center my focus, and stepped back, away from the crowd. My heart was still beating fast, and the music was hypnotic, but I knew I had to return to my own camp before it got too late.

Odysseus and Diomedes were caught in the festivities as well, so no one noticed me slipping away. Only Philomela's eyes caught mine amidst the sea of bobbing heads, and pushed her way towards me. She was holding a bowl filled with the sweets that the slaves had made earlier that day for the festival, dried fruits stuffed with nuts and drenched with syrup.

"For you," she said, smiling warmly at me, "and your prince."

The music and noisy chatter from the festival had dulled to a hazy, distant thrum by the time I made my way back to our camp. I was still feeling lightheaded from the drink, breathless from dancing and weaving through the endless rows of tents and throngs of inebriated, laughing soldiers. My brow was damp with sweat despite the chilly night, and my pulse still thumped in my throat in a strange sort of anticipation, a restless hunger. I clutched the bowl close to my chest, and hurried on.

The soft, plaintive sounds of Achilles’ lyre reached me as soon as I caught sight of the Phthian banners, fluttering in the breeze at the edges of our encampment.

Achilles was sitting on a bench, my mother’s golden lyre nestled in his lap. His fingers ran over the strings languidly, plucking notes that were brighter than water from a babbling stream, sweeter than honey. In the fire’s trembling halo, he seemed ethereal, very nearly transparent, yet at the same time more vibrant than I had ever seen him, dispelling the darkness of the night beyond. His hair caught the amber light on the flames and reflected it in aureate strands, his skin shimmered like polished gold, the muscles of his arms rose and fell underneath it like waves with every movement.

Beautiful, my mind supplied, as it always did when I looked at him. I had been gazing upon him since I was a child; it still was not enough for me to get used to him, to the effortless grace of his presence, the perfect symmetry of his eyes, his lips. The festivities that had been raging for a day and a night may have well been for Dionysus, yet it was Achilles, right there before me, who looked like a god, one for whom people gathered on wintry nights like this, to drink and dance and fornicate in his honour.

Would people remember him with kindness, I wondered, many years from now?

His jade green eyes snapped up to mine, and the familiar heat rushed through me, brushing away my swirling, distracted thoughts.

He set the lyre beside him and stood up. “You stayed with the healers until late tonight,” he said.

“I did,” I replied simply, standing at the edge of the fire. The bowl with the sweets was still cradled in my chest. Achilles glanced at it curiously, then at me.

“Is there something amiss?” he asked.

Of course he could tell I was different, just by looking at me, without me having to say anything. He always understood so much more about me than he let on.

“I just like looking at you.”

Achilles tilted his head ever so slightly to the side in question, a tiny fox’s smile curling the edges of his lips. He stood up and paced towards me unhurriedly, his footsteps barely audible on the soft earth.

My pulse raced ever so slightly when his finger brushed carefully under my eye. “You’re flushed,” he said.

“I had some wine. At the festival.”

“Ah.” His finger travelled higher, tracing my cheekbone. “Your pupils are larger than usual. What did you do?”

“Nothing.” I smiled. “It’s so I can see you better.”

Achilles huffed a quiet laugh at that, his features softened by pleasure. He always liked it when I gazed at him, praised him. The sound of his laughter slithered down my spine like warmed honey.

I do not know what possessed me then. Perhaps it was the drink, or the moon that hung high above us like a silver coin, or the way the firelight danced in his eyes and caressed the side of his face, but I had to be alone with him.

I took his hand in mine, walking backwards towards our tent. I could not look away, nor did I want to.

“One of Menelaus’ women gave me these sweets,” I told him. “They’re for you.”

“Is that so?” he hummed, amused. He caught on the game I was playing instantly, by reflex. “Then I’ll be sure to try them.”

We stepped in the tent together, the leather flap closing soundlessly behind us. I set the bowl on the low table that stood in the center of the place that we had come to call home, ever since we’d come to Troy.

We stood opposite each other across the table, facing each other, our breaths the only sounds. I swallowed; I did not know why I was feeling so restless all of a sudden, like it was the first time we had found ourselves alone.

“Take your pick,” I said, gesturing at the bowl.

Achilles quirked a fair brow as he glanced down at them, like a lord perusing a lowly merchant’s stall. “I will not choose at random,” he replied in an artfully haughty tone. “You must choose for me. You are my therapon; I know you will choose well.” He was in a playful mood, smiling at me like a mischievous boy; I loved it when he got like this. I didn’t often get to see him like that anymore.

I picked up one of the sweets and brought it to my lips. My teeth sank in the supple flesh of a dried fig, the walnuts within it softened from the syrup. I chewed slowly, my eyes never leaving him.

“How is it?” he asked. “Is it good?”

I shook my head. “Not good enough for you, my prince.”

Achilles bit back a grin, eyes shining. “Go on, then. Try another.”

And so I did. I picked up the syrupy fruits slowly, one after another, watching him. Every time Achilles asked me how it was, I answered in the same fashion: “Not good enough for you, my prince.”

I tried one of every sweet in the bowl, until my tongue clung to the roof of my mouth with the sweetness. When I had finished my thorough examination, Achilles crossed his arms leisurely before his chest.

“So, what is your verdict?” he asked, smirking. “Which one amongst them is the sweetest for me?”

I licked my lips, sticky with honey and spices, as my heartbeat soared. I reached into the bowl and dipped two fingers in the syrup, then slowly, holding Achilles’ gaze, I lifted them to my neck, dragging them across my skin.

“I am, my prince.”

Achilles’ eyes flashed in the half dark. There was something feral about the way his gaze honed in on me; a hunter’s gleam. He circled the table, closing the distance between us in two well-measured strides. I could smell the sweet scent of his sweat as he leaned in close, and a deeper, muskier one; the smell of his arousal. I bit the inside of my lip as his arm wound around my waist, pulling me until I was flush against him.

“Then I shall have you,” he whispered in my ear.

I shivered when his tongue brushed the side of my neck, warm and slick, velvet smooth. My head tipped backwards and I clung to him, holding him tight against me. His skin was hot to the touch underneath the fabric of his chiton, hotter than my own. Achilles’ mouth traced the hollow of my throat, the line of my jaw, the curve of my chin, before brushing over my own.

“I believe,” he hummed, his tongue flicking over my bottom lip, “this, here, is the sweetest yet.” His hands were on the base of my spine, drawing me in, and I was helpless in his hold. “You chose well.”

A soft moan escaped me, my fingers sinking into Achilles’ fragrant strands while he kissed me until my breath was all but gone from me. I followed the line of his neck, his shoulder, undoing the golden clasps that held his chiton in place. I could feel the weight of his waking interest pressing up against my thigh, and I suddenly couldn’t bear the feeling of clothes between us, or anything else; it had to be just us.

I pushed the fabric down, caressing and kissing every inch of skin I uncovered. I looked up at him when I had sunk down on my knees before him, bare as he was, his form illuminated by the shifting light of the brazier. My pulse hummed in my ears as I let my gaze follow the muscled planes of his chest and stomach, the definition in his arms, the strength of his powerful legs. He was watching me, too, through eyelashes that gleamed like threads of gold.

“My sweet Patroclus,” he whispered, thumb brushing over my lips, and in his gaze that familiar fondness lingered, unchanged through the many years I’d known him.

This. This was how I liked him best. When he was naked before me, body and heart, looking at me like this, touching me like this. This was when I knew he was mine, and mine alone; the world could not take this from me. From us.

I leaned forward and wrapped my lips around him, taking him in my mouth. Achilles shivered underneath me, his lips falling open on a quiet moan. His emerald eyes were dark with wanting, bottomless, when he reached down and threaded his long fingers through my hair. I was caught, pinned under that gaze, magnetised.

“Achilles,” I breathed, kissing the smooth skin of his navel as I stroked him, breathing in the musk of his sweat, the scent that rose from him: sandalwood, pomegranate, almonds and earth.

His hold on the back of my head tightened. He pulled me up gently and nudged me towards our bed, and I followed, half stumbling over my own toes.

My back sank into the furs as Achilles climbed over me, hovering above me. His smile was half-obscured by the trembling shadows, framed by the curtain of golden hair that fell around his face. The scent of the oil he used wafted in the air when he opened the vial that lay beside our bed.

“There’s more I haven’t tried,” he said.

“Is there?” I whispered. I spread my thighs wider apart, sighing when I felt the pressure of his fingers between my legs.

“Yes.” He kissed and nipped his way down, glancing up at me mischievously every time his fingers and tongue drew more shivers from me. His breath was hot over me when he said, “I have saved the best for last.”

I laughed, but the edges of my laughter broke on a strained sob of pleasure. I could feel him everywhere, his hands wandering all over me, the heat of his mouth swallowing me whole. I closed my eyes and surrendered to him, to this blissful, blessed torture. I was helplessly drawn to him, in his hands a mere plaything. Like the lyre he played, I was but an instrument, his touches drawing sounds from me that were meant for his ears alone.

When my heart had been filled to bursting, just when I thought that I would unravel in his hands, he pulled back, climbing back up the length of me again. His cheeks were flushed and so were his lips, his length hard against my skin where it touched me.

I reached up and cupped the back of his neck, heart beating wildly in my chest. “Is there more you’d like to try?” I asked in a teasing whisper. “Or have you had enough?”

“Enough?” His laughter was husky, a tad breathless. He kissed me deeply, reaching for the oil once more. “I’ll never have enough, philtatos.”

I gasped softly when he pressed against me, opening me up. My arms and legs wound around him, as if by rote, clutching him hard, pulling him to me. We were flush against each other, our bodies locking perfectly like two pieces of a whole. There was no one else but him in the world; there was no room for anything else. Just my skin touching his skin, the smell of his hair and the sweetness of his mouth, his quiet sighs in the half dark, and this hunger: these endless wells of aching want that existed between us, this fire that burned eternal.

We moved and breathed in unison, the edges between us blurring once more, our bodies melting into one. I closed my eyes and lost myself in that heat, that pressure, the pleasure that built and built, yet it was still him that I saw behind my eyelids. Even when my gaze turned inward and I drifted, swimming in the deepest recesses of my mind, I could always find him there, waiting for me, his image crisp as if he were right before me. He was a part of me, as I was of him; there was no me without him.

Achilles buried his face in the crook of my neck as he thrust deeper, harder, more urgently. His brow was damp with sweat now, his fingers digging into the flesh of my thigh where he held me fast. I was pinned underneath him, legs spread open at either side of his powerful hips, my hands roaming over the taut muscles of his back. Muscles that I knew better than my own, lines and angles that I could trace in the dark, with my eyes closed.

“Patroclus,” Achilles said in a shuddering gasp against my throat as his thrusts got faster, more erratic. “Patroclus—”

Achilles often got impatient, chasing his finish like a lion locked on to a deer, yet I didn’t want this to end just yet. I didn’t want to lose this warm, melding feeling. I hugged him tightly and pushed him to the side, flipping us both around.

I pinned his wrists above his head and held his gaze as I rolled my hips slowly, sinking down on him.

Achilles looked up at me, flushed and panting, his skin glistening, his hair spread in lazy golden swirls about his head. I leaned down, pressing my forehead to his.

“The fastest of the Greeks,” I hummed, “in all things, it seems.”

Achilles laughed, the sound vibrating through me where we were connected. “A champion in all things, you mean.” He grinned wickedly, yet it wasn’t long before his laughter turned into breathless, shaky moans again, his length stiffening within me. My name poured forth from his mouth with every breath, over and over, kissing it onto my lips, whispering it over my flushed and warmed up skin.

Achilles had never told me that he loved me, and I had never told him. It was always understood between us, a truth as natural as breathing, buried deep beneath our skin and woven in our bones. Yet when he said my name like this — Patroclus, Pa-tro-clus — repeated it like a chant, like it was holy, I knew well what he meant.

And so did he.

“Achilles,” I whispered into his hair, threading my fingers through his. “Achilles,” I gasped when he bucked, arching underneath me. “Achilles,” I breathed, when I felt the warmth of his pleasure blossoming inside me, when he melted in my arms, when his eyelids fell over his eyes like the petals of a nightflower at dusk.

We lay like this for a long while, arms and legs tangled atop the furs. I held him tight, long after our breaths had eased and our heartbeats had found their natural rhythm. The music and voices from the festival drifted through the leather walls of our tent, mingled with the trill of the crickets, the hoot of distant night birds hidden in the trees. Though I knew where we were, what lay beyond the safe haven of our small home; though the weight of a long day of healing death was quick to return to my limbs, it did not quite stir the peace between us. I had him, like this, soft and pure and unblemished like the first time I’d seen him, the first time I’d kissed him, the first time I’d laid with him. No one could take this from me. From us.

“Patroclus,” Achilles sighed sleepily, nuzzling into the hollow of my throat, arms coming around me to hold me close.

Yes, I thought. I knew well what he meant, when he said my name like this.

“Achilles,” I whispered in return, and closed my eyes.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated :) If you enjoyed this one-shot, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Have a great day! <3

#the song of achilles #tsoa #Patrochilles Week 2021 #patrochilles #patroclus #achilles #patroclus x achilles #patroclus/achilles #achilles x patroclus #tsoa fanfic #achilles/ patroclus #johaerys writes

59 notes · View notes

randombubblegum · 3 years ago

Note

what’s weird is I remember right after dallon left panic, fans online would be super adamant that he left on good terms even tho there wasn’t really anything to prove that?? idk my time in the panic fandom taught me how much fans will blindly follow someone and not accept the possibility of their fav being a bad person which yeah is a hard pill to swallow but sometimes you gotta y know??

yeah OHHH my god the toxic positivity was off the CHARTSSSS lol, even i as a relatively new fan could immediately tell “oh shit this got ugly huh”……. like all of idkhows early songs SPELL IT OUT without saying his name, also for years before dallon officially left there were reports of brendon not letting him wear flashy outfits onstage, being a huge dick to him and encouraging other members of the band + zack to do the same, just like. EXTREMELY blatant what was going on. but everyone who liked panic refused to see it bc it would mean accepting that their fav was a dick. meanwhile i was over here like wait yall are telling me you DIDNT know brendon was an asshole this whole time?? i thought we were all very aware???

#i still liked him knowing he was a huge selfish egotistical asshole so ppl denying it was like #bro what are you talking abt he doesnt hide it #theres a vid of him and other members making fun of dallon for being mormon and dallons clearly super pissed #but he just turns the other cheek and lets them wear themselves out #makes me sooo mad but hes stronger than i am and im glad he won #mail time!

13 notes · View notes

nicknellie · 4 years ago

Text

Anonymous requested: Can I request a one bed trope for willex?

Oh, you absolutely can request that! I’m a sucker for this trope and I think this is my second time ever writing it (first for this fandom) so this was a lot of fun to get into. Thank you for the request, anon!

Champagne and Roses

Alex was never trusting Luke to book a hotel again. There was a reason Flynn handled admin for the band despite not being in it, and that reason was that all the actual bandmates were useless at it. Still, Luke had found a hotel that he had described as “super insane, like bro, it’ll be awesome, I promise” and had insisted on being the one to book it so nobody had the surprise of what was so good about it ruined for them. But it looked like Alex was set to reap the consequences.

Technically, Julie and the Phantoms were on tour, but what they were really using the opportunity for was something more akin to a road trip with just their nearest and dearest. Alex, Luke, Julie, and Reggie were there to attend their shows and meet-and-greets, Flynn had come along as their manager, but Carrie and Willie were also tagging along for the fun of it. So far they had stopped off at six different venues around North America, and they were on their way to the seventh, namely the hotel Luke was so pumped about.

He hadn’t stopped talking about it since they’d got in the tour bus the previous night, and it was starting to drive Alex a little insane. He was sat on one of the bus’s plush sofas with a cushion clamped over his ears as he tried to drown Luke’s voice out, but it wasn’t working all too well. Sat next to him, Willie was clearly trying not to laugh at him.

“I know I said I wouldn’t tell you guys anything about the hotel,” Luke was saying, the biggest grin plastered across his face, “but just wait until you see the pool. It’s gigantic, and there’s like a thousand slides. And Reggie, bro, you’re gonna love the breakfast buffet they set out, from the photos on their website it looks like they’ve got literally everything.”

“It sounds expensive,” Flynn called from the front seat, sat between Julie (who was taking her turn at driving the bus) and Carrie, who was somehow managing to paint her nails immaculately in a moving vehicle on the highway. “If you’ve blown the band’s budget on a hotel, Luke Patterson, I’m going to hop back there and murder you.”

“It wasn’t that expensive,” Luke said, looking sheepish. Still, Flynn’s threat shut him up a little – Alex decided it was probably better not to ask how much Luke had spent on the booking. “Besides, I saved money by booking shared rooms instead of individual ones.”

That grabbed Alex’s attention. If ever they were away as a band they shared rooms – Alex would buddy up with Luke and Reggie, and Julie and Flynn would be together – but this time there were two extra people in the mix, and Alex didn’t really see how it would work having Willie and Carrie share a room when they hardly spoke to each other outside of this kind of setting.

“Who’s with who?” Alex asked, removing the cushion from his ears and setting it down next to him. A moment later, Willie reached across Alex’s midriff, plucked the pillow from the sofa, and put it behind his own head, laying back comfortably. Alex’s pretended that he wasn’t blushing profusely at the brief touch.

“Well, we can probably change it if we want to once we get there, but I’m with Julie, Flynn and Carrie are together, Reggie’s got a room to himself, and you’re with Willie.”

Alex had no idea how to react. The moment Luke had spoken, his mind had imploded. At every other hotel they’d stayed at so far, everyone had got their own room, purely to give themselves some alone time because they were spending every minute of every day together on the tour and it could get a little suffocating. To go from that to sharing a room with Willie of all people?

Luke had to have known what he was doing. He knew how Alex felt about Willie, so this plan had to have been formed in the deep dark corner of his brain that was designated for doomed matchmaking. It wasn’t like Alex had never shared a room with Willie before, but they had always chosen to, it had never been forced upon them like this. He couldn’t help but wonder what Willie made of it, if his heart was hammering the same way Alex’s was, if the thought of sharing a room made him giddy and nauseous all at the same time too.

He cast a quick, careful glance in Willie’s direction, only to see that his expression had remained completely unchanged, which was unhelpful. Complete neutrality could mean anything. Still, Alex supposed it was better than Willie looking annoyed or disgusted or downright angry at the thought of sharing a room together.

This was silly, Alex told himself. He had shared a room with Willie before, they’d had the occasional sleepover and it had always been lovely. There was no reason that this time should be any different. He tried to calm himself, school his features into something resembling nonchalance.

“Alex,” Reggie said, sounding concerned, “are you feeling travel-sick again? You look like you’re about to vomit all over Willie.”

Apparently nonchalance hadn’t worked.

Alex seized the opportunity. “A little bit of fresh air might be nice,” he said.

Julie pulled over a minute or so later and Alex hopped out of the tour bus. They had pulled off the highway a while back and were now on a much smaller road lined with tall hedges and completely deserted except for their bus. Alex let a gentle wind wash over his flushed face, closed his eyes, and let himself calm down a bit.

It would be fine.

“Hey,” came a voice behind him, startling him. Alex jumped and looked to see Willie stood beside him, his hair blowing elegantly behind him. Not for the first time, Alex wondered how he managed to look like an angel constantly. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Alex replied, trying to smile. “The roads were getting a little twisty. I’ll just take a minute to cool off. I’m fine, though.”

He leaned back against the cool metal of the tour bus and felt Willie do the same. He could feel Willie’s side pressed against his and his heart starting beating faster at the slight contact. Their fingers brushed gently together and Alex felt a smile tugging at his lips.

“If you don’t want to share a room with me, that’s fine,” Willie said. He rushed the words out as if he didn’t really want to say them, avoiding eye contact until he’d finished speaking. Then he turned to look at Alex – Alex was bad at reading expressions at the best of times, and all he could make out of Willie’s right then was something close to nervousness. He just couldn’t pinpoint why.

“No,” he assured Willie quickly, “I don’t mind. I do. I do want to share with you, I mean. It’s cool. We’re cool.”

“You sure?” Willie asked, sounding unconvinced. “Because the moment Luke mentioned it you freaked.”

Alex felt himself blush faintly. “No, I told you, it was just the roads getting too twisty. I’m not worried about sharing with you, if that’s what you think.”

“So we’re okay?”

“Of course.”

“Great,” Willie said. He beamed, and Alex couldn’t help but smile back. It was impossible not to smile when Willie did. “I’m going to head back onto the bus. Take as long as you need – I don’t think any of us want to clean up after you again.”

“That was one time and it was four years ago,” Alex protested, though he couldn’t help but smile at Willie’s teasing. At that, any nerves he’d had were gone; how could he be worried about being with Willie when doing just that was so easy? “I’ll come back in a minute.”

As Willie disappeared back onto the bus, Alex closed his eyes and leaned his head back again. His panic was replaced with butterflies in his stomach, silly with excitement at the thought of what the night might hold. Not much, he reminded himself, it was just sharing a room with a friend. Still, he suddenly couldn’t wait.

To Luke’s credit, the hotel was amazing. They arrived there in the late afternoon, checked in, and had their luggage taken up to their rooms for them, leaving them free to explore the hotel. The pool looked bigger than the actual building, with six different slides, people zooming out of them gleefully every few moments. They found the restaurant, which was currently preparing for dinner, and the smells wafting from the kitchen were to die for. There were bikes to hire (Julie suggested a group bike ride which led to mixed responses from the others, ranging from Reggie’s immediate enthusiasm to Carrie stating monotonously that she’d rather do literally anything else), an enormous duck pond nearby, and a small cinema which that night was showing some generic action film Alex had never heard of. Overall, Luke had really outdone himself with the booking.

They busied themselves for the rest of the evening, splashing about in the pool (or, in the case of Alex, Willie, and Carrie, relaxing by the side of the pool on the sun-loungers) and spending far too long in the mini arcade that Reggie had stumbled across. Luke hadn’t been wrong about the food either – the staff set out an enormous buffet that had every food Alex could think of. Alex tried to stick to a regular meal because mixing so many different foods felt strange, but Luke’s plate was piled with pizza, curry, and a slab of chocolate cake.

The evening had been so hectic and jam-packed that by the time Alex and Willie bade farewell to the others, he had almost forgotten all his whirring thoughts surrounding the shared room. But by then he was too full and tired to be too bothered anyway. It was just sharing a room with Willie – what could go wrong?

Willie pushed open the door to room seventy-three and entered ahead of Alex, flicking the lights on as he went. Alex was exhausted and his vision slightly blurred as his eyes kept closing, but he could still make out that this room was nothing short of luxurious. There were chocolates on the pillow, complementary tea and biscuits, a bottle of champagne cooling in a bucket of ice, a vase of roses, a flat-screen TV so big it looked as if it would fall off the wall, and a gorgeous king-size bed with rich red satin sheets.

It took Alex far too long to realise that there was something a little off.

He looked around again. Chocolate pillows, tea, biscuits – that was fine, that was normal. Flat-screen TV – expensive, but every hotel room he’d ever stayed at had a television. But champagne, roses, only one bed… Alex felt the pieces click in his mind.

“This is a couples room,” he said.

He was never letting Luke book a hotel ever again.

Willie looked just as bewildered as Alex felt. They had both frozen in the doorway when they saw the room, but now Willie headed in cautiously, picking up the champagne and one rose as if trying to work out whether they were real. He smoothed down the bedsheets, not that they were rumpled, and then turned back to Alex. His expression was infuriatingly neutral and hard to read again.

“Yep,” he agreed, “definitely.”

Alex carefully followed him into the room and looked around. Those old nerves about sharing a room with Willie came back – if they had to share this space then surely it was going to be incredibly awkward. Especially since they weren’t even dating.

“Do you think there’s been some sort of mix-up?” he asked, eyeing the singular bed. It looked invitingly comfortable, and Alex was knackered. He wanted nothing more than to just crawl in and sleep beside Willie as the room was clearly telling them to do. But he couldn’t do that, not if Willie wasn’t comfortable with it, not if there had been a mistake.

“I don’t know,” Willie said, shrugging. “It’s definitely the right room, otherwise the key wouldn’t have worked. I could go and ask at reception if there’s a different room, if you like? With two beds?”

There was something in the way Willie said it that caught Alex’s attention, but he couldn’t identify what it was. But he could see that Willie was watching him carefully, looking for all the world like all he wanted was to make sure the night went well. He thought, Alex realised with a start, that Alex wouldn’t want to share a bed with him. It nearly made Alex laugh, but his nerves stopped him.

He did want to share the bed, but the idea terrified him.

He shrugged, trying to seem indifferent. “If you want. It’s up to you, I don’t mind.”

“You sound like you mind,” Willie countered.

“I don’t.”

They stared at each other for a minute or two, sizing one another up. Alex didn’t want to seem like the idea of sharing a bed with Willie made him uncomfortable, but equally he didn’t want to seem too eager. He wasn’t sure what the middle ground was – indifference maybe? But if he seemed like he didn’t care at all then it could look like he simply didn’t feel one way or the other about Willie.

He decided he was reading too much into it, worrying about it too much. So he was the one to break the silence.

“I don’t mind sharing a bed with you, Willie,” he said. “It’s late and I’m exhausted, I could sleep anywhere right now. And I’m sure you don’t really want to go all the way back downstairs just to ask if they have another room. It won’t make any difference. We can share a bed – we’ll be fine.”

Willie blinked, seeming surprised, but then he smiled lightly. Alex felt his heart flutter despite his exhaustion – it was incredible how Willie could have that effect on him no matter what.

“Okay, hotdog,” Willie agreed, nodding resolutely. Just with the use of the nickname, any tension in the room dissipated. Suddenly they were just two guys about to share a bed and it was completely fine. “You’re right. Let’s get some sleep.”

They took turns getting ready for bed in the bathroom (which was far bigger than a bathroom had any business being, Alex thought) and eventually settled down into the bed, side by side, plenty of room between the two of them. Though the day had been hot, the night had turned cold, and the satin sheets were doing very little to keep them warm. Alex burrowed further into the covers, pulling them up to his chin and trying to settle himself. He was still a little nervous, it would have been impossible to be completely chilled out about the whole situation, but he was too tired to really notice.

There was total silence for a few minutes before Willie quietly said, “You talk in your sleep sometimes.”

Alex turned to his right to face him. Willie was laying on his side, facing Alex, one hand under his head on the pillow and the other hidden by the duvet. The top he wore was oversized and revealed most of his collarbone, his hair was mussed as it spilled out over the pillow, and he had the sweetest little smile on his tired face. Alex, heart hammering, mirrored his position without realising he was doing it, but he did register that his movement brought them much closer together.

“Do I?” he asked, voice low and hushed.

Willie giggled gently, nodding. “Yeah. I’ve heard you on some of our sleepovers.”

“What do I say?”

“Nonsense, mainly,” Willie told him. “But sometimes you talk about the band, that’s always sweet. It’s a change from you calling Luke and Reggie annoying so often. And it’s nice to know you love them really.”

Alex grinned. “Of course I love them. They’re my brothers and Julie’s my sister. Although I am still annoyed at Luke for this whole thing.”

Willie’s expression changed abruptly, from amused to… what was that? Hurt? Had Alex said something wrong without realising it? Oh god, had he just changed the tone of the situation back to awkward?

“I thought you were okay with this,” Willie said. His voice was a different kind of quiet. Small now in a way it hadn’t been before.

“I am,” Alex said quickly. “I’m more than okay with this.”

“Then why are you still angry at Luke?”

“Because he knows how I–”

He stopped himself abruptly. He knows how I feel about you. That had been what he was about to say. The late hour had loosened his tongue and he had almost ruined everything. He stopped, changed course, started again.

“He knows how I get nervous about this kind of thing. If I’d been sharing a room with him and Reg like normal then there wouldn’t have been this whole problem.”

“Why is sharing with me a problem?” Willie asked, brow furrowed in confusion. “Would you have been like this if we were just sharing a room, not a bed?”

Alex opened his mouth but couldn’t think of anything to reply with that wouldn’t prompt further questions. He couldn’t see this night ending well for him at all. It was barely midnight and already he had offended Willie by saying the wrong thing. How was he meant to carry on from this?

“I wouldn’t have been so worried if there were two beds,” he admitted slowly. Willie deflated, nodded, curled into himself slightly. It broke Alex’s heart. “But it’s not because I don’t want to share a bed with you.”

“Then what is it?” Willie asked pleadingly. “Just tell me, Alex – whatever the reason is, it won’t change anything between us. I won’t hate you or anything like that. Just tell me what’s on your mind.”

Alex couldn’t help wondering from that if Willie had already guessed. And if he had then there was no point in pretending anymore. Perhaps he wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t been so tired, his brain working so slowly, but he made his decision then and didn’t back down.

Willie’s hand had come out from beneath the covers and was now resting in the space between them on the mattress. Alex placed his hand over it and linked their fingers. He heard Willie gasp quietly and didn’t stop to think whether that was a good or bad sign.

“Luke knows how I feel about you,” Alex said. His voice wavered nervously and he couldn’t look Willie in the eye, but he still felt a thrill knowing that he was finally saying this, taking an enormous weight off his shoulders. “He knows that I’ve liked you for as long as I’ve known you. He knows how much this could mean to me, but also how nervous I’d be. I don’t know if you feel the same way, Willie. If this is weird or I’m out of order or anything like that then you can tell me to stop talking. I was just nervous because Luke did this, got me this close, without telling me about it and it threw me off. You threw me off. I’m sorry if I’ve upset you or made you uncomfortable. But that’s what’s on my mind.”

Alex finally took his eyes of his and Willie’s interlinked fingers to look Willie in the eye. Willie’s eyes were sparkling, an incredulous half-smile on his face. Alex took that as a good sign.

“Really?” Willie asked.

Alex swallowed heavily and nodded once. “Really.”

Willie said nothing. He just used their intertwined hands to pull himself closer to Alex and rest his head on his chest. Alex was glad his heart was on the other side of his chest, otherwise Willie would have been able to hear how fast it was beating. Willie had thrown an arm over Alex’s waist, holding him close, so Alex’s wrapped his around Willie’s back. He felt Willie sigh contentedly, and on a burst of confidence he pressed the lightest kiss possible to the top of Willie’s head.

“Does this mean you like me too?” Alex asked. He was fairly certain, but it was always good to double check.

Willie chuckled and Alex felt his heart swell with love. “Yeah. I like you too, hotdog.”

“So the couples room worked out after all, I guess,” he joked.

Willie tilted his head to look up at Alex, looking for all the world like an angel on Earth.

“Definitely,” he agreed. “But I think we finally use this bed for its real purpose and get some sleep.”

“Goodnight, Willie.” Alex reached over and flicked off the little bedside lamp, plunging them into total darkness.

“Goodnight, Alex.”

Taglist (if you want to be added or removed just let me know): @ace-bookworm @williexmercer @willex-owns-my-heart @itstiger720 @the-reckless-and-the-brave @that-one-newsie @bluedarkness @lookingthroughmirrors @tmp-jatp @salty-star @julieandthequeers @lmaohuh @sunnysbright @sylphrenas

85 notes · View notes

bearlytolerant · 3 years ago

Text

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Solavellan (Modern AU)

Ch Rating: T

Ch WC: 2169

AO3

Chapter 7

Another day at the office. Editing, emails and the ever elusive caller that enables equal opportunities for playing phone tag. A game Solas never enjoys participating in. The morning slides by and Varric is at his desk, twirling his keys around his finger.

“Lunch?”

Solas glances up and sighs. “I’m trying to get a hold of Seeker Pentaghast. Sera said she had more info on an agent that might have a lead on Crystal Red.”

“That sounds like a lot of maybes and probablys and a whole lot of I don’t give a fuck. You’re allowed to take a break and get some lunch.”

“What if they call while I’m away?”

“They can leave a message. Now let’s get out of here before we don’t have any time at all for food.”

Solas shoves back his chair and follows Varric. “I did pack a lunch today,” he mentions.

“Save it for tomorrow then. I’m craving some street tacos and there’s a truck just up the road. I’ll buy so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“I am less concerned about finances and more concerned about getting food from a truck.”

“Ah, live a little Chuckles,” Varric says as he gives Solas a whack on the back.

“If living a little, as you say, means spending two days on the toilet. Perhaps I do not wish to live a little.”

“Well come with me and grab something else. I’m sure there’s something you’d find worthy of your tastes nearby.”

A half hour later and Solas is holding a taco that’s worth the regret he’ll experience from his future self. Some chipotle mayo dribbles down his chin and he swipes it away while pulling out his phone.

He checks his messages. One from Sarya and one from Veda. He taps on the one from Veda first.

Connor went home sick. Pick me up after school today?

He checks the time and swears. How did he not realize he took such a late lunch? She needs to be picked up right now. He dials her number as he stuffs his arms into his coat.

“Veda needs to be picked up,” he tells Varric as he shoves the remainder of his taco in his mouth.

“Got you covered,” Varric replies.

He mumbles a garbled, “thanks” then takes off down the street. Solas is just a block away from his car in the parking garage when she picks up.

“Hey papae!”

“Hello. I apologize. I just now saw your text. I will be late.”

“No worries. I can always watch the band practice until you get here.”

“I will be there soon.”

“Okie doke.”

He says he loves her and hangs up. Sprints the rest of the way down the street, half choking and wishing he’d at least drank some water but makes his way to his little car without incident. He hops inside. Starts it and zooms out of the garage. He’s speeding which has him checking his rear view mirror constantly. But of course, the city has a million stop lights and he hits every red one. He gets to her school later than he ever intended.

He parks, shoving his glasses all the way up his nose, and searches for Veda at the stadium. He spots her in the bleachers, chin resting in her hands and her copper braids coming undone in the breeze. He takes the stairs to meet her two at a time.

“I am so sorry to make you wait,” he says as he wraps her in his arms.

“Seriously, papae. It’s not a problem at all.”

“But what if it had rained? Or stormed like yesterday?”

“I would’ve just stayed inside. Besides, that didn’t happen.”

He sighs, berating himself a little internally. Then he walks with her back to the car. Slides in and clicks his seatbelt in place.

“What’s this?” Veda asks.

Solas glances over at her. She has Sarya’s camera in her hands. He hadn’t even noticed it there. He calmly says, “a camera.”

“Pssh, obviously. But I don’t remember you having a camera.”

“It’s a friend’s,” he says. “We went out for lunch and they must’ve left it.”

“Oh,” she says. “How was work today?” She’s still fiddling with the camera.

“It was work,” he says. Thankfully she easily dropped the subject. “Not much was accomplished.”

She gasps. “Your friend is so pretty. You’ve never mentioned her before. New coworker?”

“No. Just a new friend I met.”

“She looks familiar—and she’s a wonderful photographer. Maybe we should have her take some pictures of us. We haven’t updated our family photos since I was ten.”

“That’s a wonderful idea Veda. However, my friend is only visiting for a short while. I’m not sure there would be enough time to squeeze some family photos in.”

“Bummer. You look so happy around her.”

“I don’t always look happy?”

“You look a different kind of happy with her. It’s nice.”

He takes her words and holds them close to her chest. “Anything interesting happen at school today?”

“Yeah,” she says, then she unloads a multitude of stories. How one of her friends got their tooth knocked out by a basketball in gym. How she accidentally used Elvhen in her Tevene class and didn’t notice until the whole class was just staring at her.

“Did you feel embarrassed?” he asks as they pull into the garage.

“A little. But I mostly found it funny. The way the other kids looked so confused.”

“Does anyone treat you differently when you speak Elvhen?”

She shrugs. “There’s a couple of kids who say stupid things but I don’t hang around them.”

“Veda, I’m happy to speak with the administration if your having trouble with other students—“

“While I appreciate that, I can handle a couple of kids who are jerks.”

“Very well but if you ever—“

“I know.” She slings her backpack in her back then kisses his cheek. “Can I go to Varric’s house? I want to see the cats and hang out with Cole for a bit.”

“Yes, so long as you check with—“

“Already did.” She steps out of the car. “Going to drop my stuff off inside then I’ll see you later.”

“Text me when you want to leave. I’ll pick you up.”

“Okay. See you later, papae.”

Solas sighs. He’s glad she still talks to him and he still gets to see her but there’s also this tiny ache in his chest that misses her always being around the house. But he reminds himself that this is a good thing. It’s just new and he pulls out his phone to read his messages from Sarya.

Hey I’m going to try and stop by your work around 3:15 today.

I stopped by your work but you weren’t there. Saw Varric though! He introduced me to everyone and it was fun! I really like Sera. She’s hilarious! And Merrill was so sweet! Anyway, hopefully I’ll see you sometime soon. 😉

—

“I fold,” Sarya says, she takes a drag from her cigarillo. Then throws her cards face up on the table.

“Already?” Han asks. “What a shame.”

“Your mind must be elsewhere, Sarya. I’ve never known you to throw a game,” Vilanti says as she shows her cards.

Han takes the game and lets out a whoop as he gathers them all to shuffle.

“I still can’t believe Dallen just up and left us. Did he say anything to either of you? About his plans.”

Both of them shake their heads.

“It’s really odd.”

“I don’t know why you care. Easier to keep yourself from using him. Easier for him to be happy this way,” Han says.

“Ouch,” Vilanti grimaces, then gestures for all the cards to be handed over. She shuffles.

“I do agree with that actually. It’s just that most who move on from our happy little family tend to give us more of a notice. We didn’t get to give him a proper goodbye.”

“I don’t mean to sound callous here Sarya, but you were the only one who cared about the guy. Makes sense why he moved on.” Vilanti deals.

Sarya picks up her hand and stares straight through the cards. “That’s not true.”

“Basically,” Han argues. He draws a card.

“Sometimes you both are mean.”

“Not mean. Just honest,” Han says.

Vilanti draws. “On another note, I heard Makon made a new friend today.”

“What?” Sarya nearly drops her cards. “Our Makon? Makon—stoic, quiet, unsociable Makon?”

“Yep. Met her at the gas station. She was passing through on her way to Wycome and her motorcycle broke down. He fixed it up for her on the spot and they exchanged numbers I guess.”

“What the fuck?”

“Good for him,” Han says.

Sarya draws a card. “Yeah, seriously. I hope that works out.”

“Our next gig is in Wycome and he plans to see her then.”

“Was it love at first sight or something?” Sarya asks. She folds and picks her cigarillo back up. Her interest in cards declining by the second.

Vilanti shrugs and plays her cards, taking the game. “By the way he keeps talking about her, I’d say yes.”

“What’s her name,” Han asks, gathering all the cards into a pile.

“Athi. Athi Lavellan.”

“Another Lavellan huh?”

“Guess so. Maybe she’s related to you two,” Vilanti says.

“Doubt it. Or if she is, it’s very distant,” Han says.

In the distance they hear yelling and smashing bottles. They all exchange looks.

“Wonder who the hell set Deshanna off—“

“Let’s go see if we can smooth things over,” Han says with a sigh.

“You two can go. I’ll probably make things worse. I don’t think he likes me much.”

“That’s because you push his buttons. Definitely better for you to stay here,” Han tells her.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Then she waves at them as they slip out the door and finishes off her cigarillo.

—

It’s dark and quiet and Sarya gazes longingly out the window at a small patch of stars. The only patch not hidden by the clouds. She sighs and startles at the sound of knocking. Straightening herself out, she rubs the redness from her elbows and opens the door.

“Solas,” she says it like she’s expecting him but she’s truly surprised. She steps out with him, shutting the door behind her.

“You forgot your camera,” he tells her, holding it out in his hands.

She takes it from him, hanging it around her neck. “Thank you. I should really start keeping better track of my things or you’re going to start thinking I’m trying to bait you or something.”

“I would bite every time,” he says, his hands clasped behind his back. There’s a certain sparkle in his eye and she can’t read him. But she knows she wants to kiss him. So without another thought, she stretches up on her toes and takes him by surprise. He is frigid and she panics, certain she has misstepped. After all, friends don’t kiss like that.

“I’m sorry,” she says, a little out of breath. “I don’t know what…”

Her words are caught on the edge of his lips as he captures her mouth again. His kiss is unreserved but not what she’d call passionate. Like the kiss of a long time lover. A kiss of promise. Of commitment. Her mind screams at her to let go while simultaneously wishing and longing for more. His leg is pressed into her inner thigh and despite the chill of the air, she’s certain she is on fire. Her nails are in his shoulder, the camera even hurts just a little as it presses into her chest, and she doesn’t mean to let out a moan but it’s too late for regrets as he pushes her against the side of her trailer. One hand above her and the other in her hair. With each breath she steals between kisses, she studies his face. Memorizes it and stores it for always. Freckles for days and the tiniest scar above his brow. The only sign of his age lies in the lines of crows feet near the edges of his eyes and she tells herself to ask if he has a skincare routine. He certainly seems the type.

She studies his closed eyelids, there’s two freckles on the right and a singular small one on the left and she notices that there’s even some red in his brows and wonders if they’d have red headed babies.

She gasps then. Pulls away. Why in the hell is she thinking of babies?

“Perhaps I should…”

“Kiss me again,” she says to him. She won’t let one ridiculous thought ruin the moment. She knows that she’s falling for him. Too fast, too soon but she’s holding on for another day.

When they break apart she doesn’t want him to go. But it’s too much to ask him to stay. So she waves goodbye then clicks her camera, saving the image of him walking away.

#dragon age #solavellan #modern au #solas x Sarya Lavellan #circus au #free falling #bear writes

19 notes · View notes