#Forgotten fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

amplifyme · 2 years

Text

What Rough Beast

This one’s for the SanSan Circle of Love. It’s been awhile. Not newly written, just newly posted. Read on AO3. Sandor Clegane & Sansa Stark. Teen & up. WC: 1,166. GOT TV Series Canon Compliant. Missing Scene. The Old Gods and the New. The Bread Riot.

He didn’t know how he’d found her. It had been a flash of her red hair, caught from the corner of his eye, that’d made him pass Joffrey off to another guardsman and sent him in her direction. He’d seen when she’d been cut off from the royal party and he’d gone after her without thought. But how had he known to turn down that particular passageway? Might be he’d heard her cries, though it seemed impossible he would have over the din in the streets. Men screaming, women wailing, steel clanging. Yet he had pivoted at that open doorway and followed the long corridor down, until he’d heard her pleas for true.

Four rats he’d found circling her. One holding her arms, one at each leg; the fourth wedged between her open thighs. That one had been the first to die, his guts spilling out onto his feet as he went, the light in his eyes extinguished like a candle’s flamed snuffed out by calloused fingers. Sandor had tossed him aside and the second and third died just as quickly, the fourth crouched in a corner, no doubt pissing himself.

Sandor ignored him as he handed the girl up and settled her over his shoulder. He was halfway to the street when she started gagging.

“Please,” she moaned, slapping at his back. “I’m going to be sick.”

He bent and eased her to feet, and she immediately twisted away, sinking to her knees and retching onto the straw-covered cobblestones, the front of her gown hanging in tatters.

He glanced right and left as she coughed and spat and loosened his sword in its scabbard; it was sticky with blood. The metallic rasp startled her, and she looked up at him, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Blood had begun to trickle down her cheek, but from where he couldn’t tell.

“Are you finished?” he asked.

A sharp nod came in response, and she wiped a sleeve across her mouth. Instead of pulling her back up he squatted down next to her, the pop of his knees loud in narrow hall. She flinched and scooted away until her back was pressed against the wall. Her eyes were glassy and red, and he frowned at the fear in them. He reached to push back the hair from her forehead, and she squeezed her eyes shut and turned away.

“Hold still,” he growled and grasped her chin, gently turning her face back to his. “Let me have a look.” His eyes flicked over the deep cut on her eyebrow and her bruised cheek and then the rest of her face, acutely conscious of her wary study of him. She trembled like a frightened animal caught in a trap, and the larger truth of that did not escape him. Lips pulled tight, he yanked off his right gauntlet and reached into the left for the scrap of cloth he kept there. As he dabbed at the cut he told her, “This makes twice I’ve stained a kerchief with your blood. May as well keep this one, too.”

She blinked up at him and there was more of her there than had been. Her mouth came open as he pressed the cloth into her hand and he could already hear the pleasantry about to escape it, so he spoke before she could.

“That man,” he asked, tipping his head toward the room that had become an abattoir, “did he…?”

“No,” she squeaked.

He nodded at that. It was good that he’d gotten to her in time, though what was ahead of her was no less dangerous. His mind played back images of the aftermath of the Imp’s gift of whores to the young king, and he wondered for the hundredth time when enough would be enough for him. He’d thought it might happen after he’d cut down the boy on the Kingsroad, the night the girl had lost her wolf. And then had thought it again in court when all he’d been able to offer her was his cloak after she was beaten. But even that hadn’t been enough to move him, and instead he stood his spot day after day and did as he was told and kept his mouth shut. Looking long at the girl, disheveled and jumpy, he realized the line had finally been crossed. The time had come, and his choice made.

He stood and drew his sword. “All right, then, let’s get you out of here. You’ll go back on my shoulder.”

“Might I walk instead?” she asked, her cheeks suddenly flushed red.

“No, we’re a smaller target, together. And harder to pull you off there than from my arm. I need to be able to swing my blade full, besides, without worrying about cutting you in half. Wouldn’t do to bring you back dead, now, would it?”

She blanched at that but stood, and he gave his arm to steady herself before he bent and grabbed her above the knees, settling her high on his shoulder. He knew his armor would dig into her already tender gut, but there was nothing to be done for it.

He made the street, and it was chaos, but not so bad as it had been. The gold cloaks had arrived in force and between them and the Lannister guard, the angry mob was dispersing. Bodies littered the ground, already attracting flies and thieves in equal measure. The smell of blood and shit hung heavy in the humid air. He held his sword high and at the ready and snarled into the faces before him. No one tried to stop him, and the girl made not a sound, hanging limply against him.

He was soon pushing past the Lannister guard and through the double doors of the storehouse where the royal party had taken shelter. Suddenly the Imp was beside him, pointing at a stack of bulging burlap sacks just as he folded at the waist and set the girl gently down on them. Like bees to honey, the handmaidens swarmed, patting, and shushing at her.

“Are you hurt, my lady?” the Imp asked.

But Sansa Stark had eyes only for him, and they were wide again, and haunted. He wheeled, stepping around the dwarf and toward the corridor where he’d seen Trant disappear. Though he tried, he could not look away from her, not while her eyes held him captive.

“The little bird is bleeding.” He was dismayed by the weakness in his voice. He sounded as shaken as he felt. “Someone take her back to her cage, see to that cut.”

The Imp rounded on him. “Well done, Clegane.”

He stopped and glared down at the smallest of the Lannisters as the little bird’s maids led her away. Stunted little prick.

“I didn’t do it for you,” he rasped.

Didn’t do it for the king either. I did it for her, he thought as he went in search of Joffrey. I did it for myself.

#sansan #sansan fanfic #game of throne #the old gods and the new #what rough beast #missing scene #forgotten fic

9 notes · View notes

stevebabey · 4 months

Text

have sum steddie! maybe modern!au, no upside down!au & a meet cute <3

Steve sits in the booth, his foot tapping away mindlessly under the table, with half a mind to abandon the table entirely.

In fact, the only reason he hadn’t yet was because of the $20 he was hanging out for at the end. And the bragging rights, of course.

Robin had set him up on this blind date, plied him with all the promises in the world that he would enjoy it — said she’d spent a decent amount of time hunting for the right first gay date for Steve.

She also conceded that if he, for whatever reason, didn’t enjoy it, she would cough up 20 whole bucks for his wasted time. But he had to actually see the date through for the prize to be claimed.

And the bragging rights were so that Robin — with her uppity, healthy, and happy relationship that Steve was only a little bit envious of — could ease onto the breaks when it came to Steve’s love life.

So it was looking a little bleak at the moment, so what? Every stallion or… lion or whatever had their moments, right? Moments where their mane is a little uncouth and food is low and…. Where was he going with this?

The point was, that Robin got into one relationship and suddenly decided she was fit to become a high and mighty matchmaker. Never mind that Steve had reminded her numerous times that he had dated a lot more than she had.

So, for 20 bucks and the right to stick his tongue out at his best friend when she tried to meddle, Steve could stick one night out.

Besides, she was right about one thing. They weren’t in Hawkins anymore — and San Francisco had a hell of a larger dating pool than his hometown.

Still, that didn’t make people anymore for prompt for dates though, apparently. Steve’s foot taps incessantly under the table, his knee bouncing up and down in his nerves. He runs a hand through his hair and checks his watch again.

7 o’clock, Harvey’s Diner, a cute little Italian place that Steve had begun to frequent since they moved to the city, and a date with a dude called Daniel whom Steve had no idea what he looked like.

This was his Friday night plans.

His watch reads 7:12pm and Steve sighs, his fingers beginning to fiddle with the strap of his watch just for something to do. Great. He had gotten all dressed up for this? To be stood up? How was this any better than his usual Friday night plans that Robin claimed were so pathe—

“Hi.”

Someone sits down in the booth across from Steve, landing with a thump loud enough to give him a fright.

Steve’s head whips up from its focus on fiddling with his watch and— woah. Steve blinks once, twice, and feels his jaw unhinge a little, his lips parting an inch as he gazes at the stranger across from him.

Holy shit, this dude was hot.

He’s got curls for days, dark chocolate ringlets all messy and unkept spilling over his shoulders— long and probably perfect for burying your hands into. Steve flushes a little at the unexpected thought.

He has beautiful brown eyes, widened with a smudge of eyeliner and framed with long lashes. Steve thinks he can spy a smattering of freckles across his forehead. His nose is long and his lips are plush and pink and holy shit, this dude was pretty.

“Oh— hi.” Steve manages to remember his manners. Only after he fully checked this dude out, of course.

God, couldn’t Robin have given him a better warning than just ‘he’s probably your type’? Couldn’t she have warned him that this dude was ‘do-a-double-take-on-the-street type hot?’ What the fuck Robin?

The man across from him grins, wicked and alluring all at once, and shucks off his heavy leather jacket. His eyes do a once-over on Steve, taking his time to check him out— which is great because Steve is stuck on all the glorious tattoos that have just been revealed. So much skin shown in his roughly chopped muscle-tee, swirling ink all down his arms. This dude is hot.

Silently, Steve curses Robin and the 20 dollars that is totally slipping away from him. Why did she have to be right all the time?

“Been waiting long?” The man, Daniel, asks as he makes himself comfortable across the table. He pushes his hair back with both hands, using one hand to gather it into a ponytail, holding it up to air out his neck and Steve now realises he is slightly puffed.

He must’ve run part of the way here, to avoid being later than he was. Steve can’t help but be slightly endeared by that fact.

The man grins again, “Promise I was trying to be on time but, you know how the subway is.”

Steve huffs out a laugh, any annoyance at being kept waiting melting away at his date’s sincerity.

“Not too long,” Steve admits, smiling to ease Daniel’s apparent concern. Across the table, Daniel slumps a little and releases his hair, his curls pooling back around his shoulders. Steve watches, entranced.

“Well, that’s good,” Daniel smiles, eyes bright like he really means it, and his hand darts out to steal the drinks menu from the edge of the table. He looks back over to Steve, a furrow in his brows. “You didn’t order anything?”

“I thought I should wait,” Steve says with a shrug. No point paying for food if your date never shows up.

Daniel looks up from the menu through his lashes and smiles, placing his elbow on the table and dropping his chin in the palm of his hand. “Aw, you’re sweet.”

Steve is a little embarrassed by how easily the compliment makes him blush, feeling his cheeks glow lightly. Across the table, Daniel seems to revel in it, drinking in the way Steve’s face filled with colour with a cheeky smile. His eyes flick back down to the menu.

“You know,” Daniel begins, keeping his eyes on the menu, scanning it with a hum. “Chrissy said you were good looking but I think she seriously undersold you.”

He takes his eyes off the menu to trail up Steve’s body, his gaze heavy. Steve feels a delighted zing go up his spine, feels the way he preens at Daniel’s attraction. Steve opens his mouth to respond, more than ready to return the flirt when—

“Can I get you two started with anything?”

The waitress interrupts. She’s poised with her notepad, standing at the edge of the booth. Daniel perks up and nods.

“Can I get a chocolate milkshake please?” He asks with a polite smile. Steve laughs lightly at his selection and Daniel’s gaze cuts from the waitress to Steve.

“What? Not a milkshake man?”

Steve tries to contain his grin, all too endeared by the man before him. He shakes his head and raises his hand in defense. “Nothing against milkshakes just… for dinner?”

Daniel gasps theatrically and his head snaps back to the waitress. “This man has never had the delight of a Harvey’s milkshake with his dinner. Please bring us two chocolate milkshakes!”

Steve watches as the waitress dutifully writes down the order and turns on her heel, heading for the kitchen. He turns back to his date and gapes, taken aback by the forwardness.

“Did you just order for me?”

“Did you just diss milkshakes?”

Steve scoffs, but even then he can’t stop his lips from curling up into a smile. He can’t believe it but he’s genuinely glad he waited this date out. It's not at all like he was expecting. Even Robin's short description of this dude pales in comparison to the real thing. Steve nudges his foot forward into Daniel’s shin lightly.

“I did not diss milkshakes,” Steve argues, his smile widening at how Daniel’s eyes dart to the table before back up at Steve with a grin.

“Uh huh,” Daniel nods, his voice sarcastic and 100% unbelieving of Steve’s insistence. “Just wait, okay? You’ll be changing your tune soon enough. Harvey’s milkshakes are class. I’ve had a thousand of my best ideas in here, sipping on a chocolate milkshake.”

Steve grins and leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. Under the table, he feels Daniel’s boot nudge against his leg gently— and he laughs to himself. This has gotta be the most teenage way of flirting and he’s fucking loving it.

“You know,” Steve begins hesitantly, letting his forearms lean up against the table. “You’re not quite what I expected, Daniel.”

Across the table, Daniel scrunches up his face, his expression one of pure befuddlement. He puts his hands flat on the table and leans forward.

“Wait, you think my name is Daniel?”

Steve splutters for a moment because even though the answer is duh, yes, it’s become increasingly apparent that the man across from him is not who he was expecting. But if he’s not Daniel, who is he?

Suddenly, the door chimes and someone else is entering the diner. It’s a man dressed like Steve — on the preppy side with hair that must’ve taken at least an hour. He scans the booth and spots Steve’s booth, wandering over, his eyes fixed on the man across from Steve.

“Hey, are you Eddie?” He asks confidently, ignoring Steve’s presence on the other side of the booth.

The man — Eddie — freezes as he glances up at the newcomer and then back down to Steve ahead of him. Steve deflates a little inside as he realises abruptly what’s happened— a mix-up of wrong dates that was completely warranted because this dude dresses exactly like Steve. Steve doesn't stare too long to see if he's any hotter.

Instead, he tries to give Eddie the all-clear with his eyes. He smiles polite as he can and gives a little nod to let him know it was alright to abandon him for the date he was supposed to go on. Not to get stuck with Steve.

Eddie clears his throat and smiles, not cheeky like he had with Steve, but stiff and polite. “Ah sorry man, I think you’ve got the wrong guy. My name's Daniel.”

Huh? Steve takes his eyes off the table to steal a glimpse at Eddie (is his name even Eddie?) and something inside him burns hotly when the man glances across at Steve and winks.

The man standing by the booth wavers for a moment, glancing between them in the booth as Steve schools his expression to neutral. After a moment of silence, there's a half-assed apology as the man retreats, heading back out the door he had just come through. The door chimes again on his way out.

Steve straightens up and peers over his shoulder, watching the door slowly swing shut. He turns back to the man across the booth and squints at him. The waitress returns briefly, dropping two large chocolate shakes onto the table, topped with a mountain of cream. She murmurs something about coming back to take their order in a moment.

"Wait, so who are you?" Steve asks, gently sliding his shake closer to him. "Daniel or Eddie?"

His date —well, his new date— has already begun taking a big long sip from his own milkshake, so enamored with it that when he pulls away there's a dot of cream on the end of his nose. He swallows with a satisfied ah and grins across the table at Steve, not noticing the dairy on his face.

"I'm whoever gets me talking with you a little bit longer."

Steve grins, an endeared roll of his eye at the blatant flirting but he can't deny how it makes his chest warm. He grabs one of the napkins and reaches forward, adoring how Eddie goes cross-eyed as he watches Steve smudge away the cream on his nose. He laughs sheepishly, giving his nose a little wipe with his own hand.

"I'm Eddie." He says, finally introducing himself. He doesn't offer his hand, just gives Steve a little nudge under the table and a grin over his milkshake. "And I think you just saved me from a terrible date."

Steve laughs, giving a little shake of his head. He finally goes in for a sip of his own milkshake— and it's just as heavenly as Eddie had promised, glorious chocolate dancing over his taste buds.

Steve groans quietly, eyes bright when he glances at the other man over his glass, entirely amused by how wide-eyed Eddie has become. He releases the straw and sits back, more invested in this date than he has been in... years. Stallion's got its mojo back. Or lion. Whatever.

"I'm Steve," He responds, giving a little nudge back under the table and a grin of his own. "And I think you saved me from being stood up."

#what..... is this????#i haven't really written modern au for them #and i wrote it in about 2 hours so hopefully its like. not terrible #wahoo !#i luv a little meet cute #meet cute #steddie #ruby writes steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie blurb #ummmm i haven't posted in literal eons ive forgotten all my tags oh well #enjoy ?

2K notes · View notes

ky-landfill · 5 months

Text

#living like a ghost in the manor of a father who did not choose him...#finding lost rooms that whisper the long forgotten presence of his grandmother #damian wayne #glacial by tim fain #fic recs of this vibe welcome

2K notes · View notes

patroclusdefencesquad · 4 months

Text

going fucking insane over them actually

#i'm reading throuple fics of them ngl but i had actually forgotten about this scene #doctor who

769 notes · View notes

bloodpen-to-paper · 11 months

Text

When Juanaflippa died, she was the first. No one knew how to react. Charlie and Mariana expressed the rage, the denial, and it was a spectacle of roleplay followed up by a wacky trial made for laughs. At this point, the rest of the server were still getting used to their eggs, so only Charlie and Mariana felt that twinge of pain from losing an egg. But when you remember Juanaflippa, you remember an explosion. A marvel.

Next Trump died. Maxo made you feel heartbroken with the image of a grieving father wallowing in misery and self destruction. But it was all still early, and most people didn't even notice. Trump died from neglect. Dan never saw him after adoption day. The server didn't come together like they did Juanaflippa. It was all very quiet. To this day, not many people in the community could tell you anything about Maxo's kid. About how hard his father bargained for his life between the gods. About how he failed. Trump was a whisper in the wind that only his father and those who watched him could bother to hear.

Then Tilín. At this point, the server was becoming more accustomed to the eggs. They were becoming attached. When Tilín died, it was depressing in every sense of the word. Quackity was somber, he barely spoke a word when he heard what had happened. A grave was built for Tilín by others with a heavy heart. There was no spectacle, and this time most people were involved in some way. Luzu came on to meet Tilín, and had to deal with that grief of being told his child was dead, something so heavy on him that he shut down completely. In life and in death, Tilín was the embodiment of sadness.

Bobby. The first death since Tilín. The first death in a long time. Everything had changed for the server. The eggs are their babies, their world. Everyone gathered to grieve Bobby, because they're a community now unlike ever before. But its different this time, they aren't there to witness a marvel from a distance, or grieve in sympathy. Bobby was a celebration. Music and dancing and memories. Toasts and cheering his name until the final moment. And having a final clap in his name after. Bobby was life. Because they're all scared now, terrified for their children. But they know what to expect this time. They're ready. They knew not to watch Jaiden and Roier grieve from the sidelines, they knew not to turn their backs on the two, and they would be sad but by god would they be happy as well. The server celebrated Roier and Jaiden, celebrated Bobby, and accepted his death with his name being shouted into the sky.

#its about the grief cycle #juanaflippa is anger/denial #tilin is depression #trump is bargaining which is often the most forgotten part #bobby is acceptance #their deaths all meant something different #now we wait and see what happens next #fic #qsmp #qsmp fic #qsmp analysis #qsmp juanaflippa #qsmp trump #qsmp tilin #qsmp bobby #qsmp tubbo

2K notes · View notes

pizzaqueen · 11 months

Text

Based on my post, which was based on a part in one of my fics haha

Another first kiss with a silly twist / rated T

Steve isn’t expecting it, when Eddie leans in. It’s not like it totally comes out of nowhere—there have been signs and things have been building—but he’s not expecting it in this moment. So, before he processes what’s happening, he jerks back. He can tell from the look on Eddie’s face, Eddie wasn’t expecting that.

Panic flashes in Steve’s chest. He opens his mouth to explain but then—

But then—

But then Eddie fucking headbutts him. What the hell?

It happens too quickly for Steve to dodge it—he only has a moment of thank fuck, he’s going to try again before their heads connect, hard enough that it hurts. Not a lot, but enough.

“Ow,” Steve says, rubbing his head, “what the hell, man?”

“What?”

“‘What?’” Steve rolls his eyes. “Why did you headbutt me?”

Eddie makes a face and shrugs.

Steve crosses his arms. “I thought you were going to…”

“Going to what?”

“Nothing,” Steve murmurs. He was sure Eddie was going to kiss him. But maybe Eddie was just being Eddie. Or, Steve thinks, glancing at Eddie sidelong, noting the look on his face, maybe he panicked after Steve panicked. Hm. “Thanks for the concussion, by the way.”

“Compliments of the house.”

“So, I guess that means no refunds or exchanges then?”

Eddie looks at Steve, searching his face. “What would you want to exchange it for?”

“Well,” Steve says, leaning toward Eddie, not missing the way Eddie’s gaze dips to his mouth, “I was thinking maybe this…” And, oh, Eddie was definitely going to kiss him. He smirks and leans in even closer and then he reaches up and he pinches Eddie’s nipple. Hard.

“Ow!” Eddie punches Steve’s shoulder. “What the fuck?”

“You headbutted me.”

“Only because you pulled away when I was going to—”

“Going to what?”

Eddie narrows his eyes, tilts his head.

And Steve can tell he’s thinking about whether or not he should tell Steve, and Steve gets it, but he’s also impatient. So, he sighs and he leans in again. Eddie blinks, and covers his chest protectively, but he doesn’t pull away. And, this time, when Steve reaches out, it’s to cup Eddie’s face. And, this time, when they lean toward each other, it’s their lips that meet. Gently and sweetly. And so so good.

“I didn’t mean to pull away,” Steve says, barely breaking the kiss.

“And I didn’t mean to headbutt you.”

Steve huffs and shoves Eddie lightly; Eddie grabs him and pulls him into another kiss. But he pulls a little too hard and they both lose their balance and end up on the floor.

The full weight of Eddie lands on Steve; Eddie presses his face into Steve’s neck, breath hot as he laughs. Steve groans. “I’m going to have to start wearing protective gear around you.”

Eddie pulls back. “Gotta keep you on your toes.”

“Or flat on my back.”

Eddie grins, tongue between his teeth.

Steve flushes. Before Eddie can say anything else, he shifts their weight, flipping them over.

“This works too,” Eddie says, eyes bright, a little breathless. He loops his arms around Steve’s neck, butting their foreheads together, gently now, before he leans up to bite Steve’s jaw.

Steve shakes his head—“You’re a liability”—and kisses Eddie again. He doesn’t plan on pulling away for a long time.

#steddie #Steddie fic #Steddie fanfic #pizzaqueenfic #trying to get back into the swing of writing—it’s only been like 2 weeks but I feel like I’ve forgotten everything I ever knew 🤣

1K notes · View notes

sunnydayaoe · 1 year

Text

For the forgotten ones fanart :)

#undertale au #utmv #utmv art #error sans #error!sans #for the forgotten ones #ftfo #eyestrain #tw!eyestrain #tw eyestrain #bright colors #he's so ittttty #I'm actually rather insane for how he's described in ftfo #he's Such a little animal #hope fresh shows up :) [I reallllly wanna see how this author writes him]#[adoreee their other characterizations so far ahaa]#[though I think I'd be content w/out him. this fic is absulutly Amazing already]#jbird's art

2K notes · View notes

oddinary4bts · 1 year

Text

The Forgotten Spaces | Masterpost (jjk)

☆summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

☆status: completed

☆pairings: photographer and dancer!Jungkook x dancer!female reader, Taehyung x OC (reader in What Was Hidden), Yoongi x OC (barely present in this fic), Jin x OC, Hobi x OC, Jisung x Felix (Stray Kids)

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: slow (SLOW) burn enemies to lovers, college!au, slice of life!au, angst (oop), smut and fluff

☆total word count: 146k

☆a/n: in love with this story. That's it, that's the note. I hope you'll love it just as much as I do <3

☆Special mention to @moonleeai for her work as my beta reader for all chapters of this fic

☆Inspired from What Was Hidden, a @daechwitatamic fic. You might want to read WWH before you read The Forgotten Spaces, as WWH takes place before The Forgotten Spaces

☆Read the sequel, When the End Comes, here!

☆☆☆☆☆

For this meeting of our end of the world

It's with you that I want to sing

On the threshold of the memories the dead of today

Them that breathe for us

The forgotten spaces

Je t'écris - Gaston Miron (rough translation by me)

☆☆☆☆☆

➳Teaser

➳Chapter one: when you meet again after a year (8.5k)

You didn't miss me?

➳Chapter two: when you ask your rival for help (7.7k)

You are as annoying as I remember you to be, Jeon Jungkook.

➳Chapter three: when you learn why Jungkook disappeared (10.2k)

And the worst part is, it hurts. All. The. Fucking. Time.

➳Chapter four: when you finally let go of old animosity (9.6k)

I'm just relieved you haven't changed.

➳Chapter five: when a weekend away changes everything (15.7k)

You've been confusing me all weekend.

➳Chapter six: when you realize you are too late (5.8k)

See, that's exactly why I do not want to talk to you.

➳Chapter seven: when you live with the aftermath of heartbreak (8.7k)

One day it won't hurt anymore, right?

➳Drabble #1

➳Drabble #2

➳Chapter eight: when he realizes what he lost (12.6k)

I care about you.

➳Drabble #3

➳Chapter nine: when the healing starts (7k)

You're a fucking idiot, Jeon Jungkook.

➳Chapter ten: when you start falling, slowly (14.7k)

We start here, right now, and we see where we can go.

➳Chapter eleven: when he shows that he cares (12.5k)

I think we're both still hurt by everything that happened

➳Chapter twelve: when he catches you (8.1k)

I thought then that you weren't supposed to be happy with me

➳Chapter thirteen: when a party brings you even closer (8.9k)

Make sure all I can remember is your name.

➳Chapter fourteen: when you finally make it official (13.1k)

I love you.

☆☆☆☆☆

1K notes · View notes

alabasterpickles · 15 days

Text

Have a little doodle I did about two weeks ago 🫣

I struggle posting thing individually, but I am working on fixing it

#I’m writing a fic for these losers too #I swear I’m not dead and I haven’t forgotten about anything #I’ve just been sick on and off for weeks 😂#this’ll be the the first published fanfiction I’ve ever made so #fingers crossed #anyway #Hermes #Persephone #hades & persephone #Disney’s Hercules #fan oc

310 notes · View notes

beyondthesefourwalls · 8 months

Text

And You Will Find Me

Summary: The last thing Bradley expected when he was assigned to the unofficial “singles without a plus one” table at an old friend’s wedding was to meet who he thinks might just be the love of his life. But that’s exactly what happened.

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n) (can be read as Forgetful Boy and Pumpkin from RYEWID, but not necessary to read that first)

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings: Language, fluff, love at first sight.

Notes: Written for @roosterforme's ‘80s Rocktober Playlist Fic Challenge, and as part of The Forgotten Moments Collection, but can very much be read by itself. Song selection is Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper.

The Forgetful Boy and Pumpkin first meeting one shot that I’ve been wanting to write since I referenced it in part three of RYEWID. The fact that I could do it for a challenge for one of my favorite people makes it even more exciting for me.

----

Bradley Bradshaw: Table Four

He grabbed the gold trimmed cardstock with his name on it, sipping on a glass of bourbon as he made his way into the reception hall. It didn’t take long to find his placement with the elaborate centerpieces displaying calligraphic numbers.

There were only two open seats left at the table, which was occupied by a group of people who were all staring down at their phones. He glanced around the rest of the venue, seeing all of the other tables bustling with conversation and laughter. He raised his eyebrows in surprise at the awkward silence that seemed to hang over this one in particular. No one seemed to know each other, and it didn’t look like they planned to make any effort to change that.

He groaned to himself and wondered, not for the first time, why he had thought attending this wedding was a good idea.

He hadn’t seen Sean in years, and had never even met Lucy. The two had been roommates for two years at UVA and had somewhat kept up with each other over the years, if only barely. They had always joked about how on the off chance either of them got married, they’d make each other's guest list. Bradley had laughed when he got the invite in the mail. He had waited until the last minute to send in the RSVP, but had ultimately decided why not? He wouldn’t know anyone there, and hadn’t managed to find a date in time, but he hadn’t been to Philly in way too long. He’d make a quick weekend out of it and see an old friend.

He hadn’t realized until he got into town how awkward going to a wedding on his own would be.

He sat in one of the empty seats, nodding to the guy on his right who forced a smile that looked just as awkward as it felt before turning his attention back to his phone.

Bradley was glad he had thought to refill his drink before cocktail hour ended.

He was scrolling through his phone when he saw a flash of orange out of the corner of his eye at the same time the seat next to him was pulled back.

He glanced up briefly to offer a quick smile to the new arrival and looked back down at his emails, only to do the quickest double take of his life. His breath caught in his throat and he swore his heart stopped, only to start again three times faster.

Holy hell.

“Is anyone sitting here?” you asked, and Bradley had to blink a few times before he realized you were talking to him, because your voice was mesmerizing.

“All yours,” he managed to say. He would have winced at how his voice cracked if he wasn’t trying to remember how to breathe. You offered a warm smile as you gracefully sat down. You were a vision in a long sleeve, burnt orange dress that looked like it would be silky to the touch. When he glanced down, he had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to stop from groaning when he saw the slit going up the side and the nude heels on your feet. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you were sitting beside him fiddling awkwardly with your place card as he stared at you.

“I’m Bradley,” he finally managed to introduce himself, extending a hand out. You looked at him in surprise.

“Oh! Hi.” You took his hand with a soft, gentle grip, your eyes locking onto his as a spark went through his whole body. Your eyes widened a fraction and he wondered if you felt it, too. He almost didn’t catch your name when you said it because he was so distracted by the feeling. “So, bride or groom?”

“What?”

You laughed softly, and he worried about going into cardiac arrest at the sound. “Are you here for the bride, or for the groom? I assume since you’re at this table it’s either one or the other and not both.”

“This table?”

You glanced around at your other tablemates, still busy with doing everything they could not to make eye contact with anyone else. Then you leaned closer to him, and he couldn’t help but do the same. You whispered to him like you were sharing something salacious. “The singles table. The ones who came alone and who wouldn’t know anyone else, and who they’re kind of surprised RSVP’d ‘yes’ to begin with.”

Bradley let out a loud laugh, and you giggled right along with him. The sound was like music. It earned you both curious and maybe even annoyed looks from all those at your table. He hadn’t considered that before, but now that he thought about it, you were absolutely right.

“Groom,” He replied, “College roommates. You?”

“Bride,” you told him. “Ironically, also college roommates.”

“Well would you look at that,” Bradley smirked, and he knew the amusement that sparkled in your eye was mirrored in his.

He was interrupted from saying anything else from the DJ tapping on the microphone to formally start the reception. As the bridal party danced their way into the room to Celine Dion, he kept stealing glances at you. To his pleasure, you were stealing them right back. By the time Sean and Lucy were seated at the front table and the DJ announced that dinner would be served momentarily, Bradley could barely look away. There was a smile on your face that indicated you didn’t mind at all.

It continued that way through the meal that was eventually placed on the table. You didn’t speak much as you ate, both of you feeling like you were disrupting the other six people spread out on either side. But you kept catching each other’s eyes and smiling before you looked away, and his cheeks were nearly hurting at how big his smile was.

Fuck.

Bradley barely even knew your name, and he was already down bad.

You leaned over to him during the speeches that started immediately after dinner, and he caught another whiff of your perfume. He tried his best not to noticeably take a deep breath of the scent. “Do we think the best man is already drunk?”

“Oh, he absolutely is,” he confirmed. The man in question was laughing hysterically at a joke he just told, already swaying on his feet. “I saw him throwing back an entire flask right before the ceremony.”

Your nose scrunched up in the most adorable cringe he had ever seen. “Yikes. I don’t really blame him though. The maid of honor is his ex-fiance. I’m pretty sure she left him for groomsman number three, but I can’t confirm.”

He looked at you with wide, curious eyes. “Did Lucy tell you that?”

“No,” you laughed, mindful of keeping your voice down to not draw any attention to yourselves as the slurred speeches continued. “I drove up last night and then was bored before the ceremony today. Social media is very informative, you know.”

Bradley choked out a laugh, absolutely amazed at you. “Are you a private investigator or something?” he asked, genuinely curious.

You picked up your wine glass with a smirk, and you winked at him before you took a sip. “A journalist, actually. But close enough.”

A journalist. Bradley filed that information away in a new folder in his brain that had your name on it.

Clapping drew his gaze away from you, and he realized he had completely shut out the rest of the speech. He cleared his throat and joined in, and the two of you watched as the bride and groom did their first dance. It felt like it lasted forever, but that was probably because he was itching for it all to be over so that he could talk to you again. He wanted to know more about you. In fact, he found that he wanted to know everything about you.

Everyone clapped again when the dance came to an end, and Bradley was turning to you before the DJ even finished announcing the beginning of the party.

“What are you drinking?” he asked, and he thought the look you gave him was a mix between delighted and amused. Your eyes cut to your mostly empty wine glass where he could very much see exactly what you had been sipping on. He felt heat creep up his cheeks in embarrassment.

“White wine,” you said anyway. “What are you drinking?”

He fought the grin that was threatening to take over his face. You were keeping him on his toes, and he found he quite liked it. “Bourbon.”

“Ah. Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m about due for a refill.”

“Is that so?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. You glanced around the table where the other occupants were back to scrolling through their phones or focusing on anything that wasn’t another human being. He almost laughed at the look on your face when you turned back to him. You grabbed your clutch from the table and the two of you rose out of your seats at the same time without even having to say anything.

“After you,” he grinned, and your smile made him dizzy. He ordered another whiskey while you got Pinot Grigio. He laughed when you told him you weren’t allowed another glass, because too much white wine apparently made for a very interesting night. He filed that little tidbit away, too.

With fresh drinks in hand, you turned to walk back to your assigned seating. The lights had dimmed and the music had turned to something upbeat and very cliche, and the majority of the attendees had converged on the dancefloor. You navigated around them carefully. His hand hovered over your lower back, not quite touching, but wanting to. You drew to a stop when you were only a few feet from the table, your head tilted to the side.

“I hate being seated at these tables,” you muttered. “Always makes me feel like maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

Bradley had been thinking the same thing until you had sat down beside him and shook his hand. He couldn’t help but flex his fingers as he remembered how his skin had buzzed at your touch. He glanced around the whole venue again, not quite knowing what he was looking for until he caught sight of the patio through the large windows.

“Do you want to ditch and go outside with me?” he found himself asking before he could stop himself. He held his breath when your eyes snapped to his, slightly wide in surprise. But they softened quickly, and you nodded, tucking some of your hair behind your ear with your free hand.

He held out an arm, and after only a moment of hesitation, you slipped yours into it. He almost felt like he was floating as he guided the two of you toward the open doors.

The patio was decorated beautifully. It stretched almost the entire length of the building, and twinkle lights lined the ceiling and the pillars holding it up. Smaller tables and furniture were spread out amongst the concrete and the two of you settled into the soft cushions of one of the outdoor coaches.

It was a mild night, even for early February in Philadelphia, and the heat coming from the fire pit in the middle of the table in front of you was enough for it to be comfortable. You sat in silence for a beat, but it wasn’t awkward. Your fingers danced over the rim of your wine glass and Bradley’s gaze followed as you brought it to your lips. You caught his eye as you swallowed, and he felt the heat creep onto his cheeks at being caught staring at you again.

He cleared his throat, taking a sip of his own drink to gather himself. “So. A journalist. What do you write about?”

“The hypocrisy of old men, mostly,” you shrugged, and Bradley’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You laughed at his expression. “I cover politics,” you explained. Your joke registered with the context and he chuckled.

“So just how hypocritical are the old men of Philadelphia?” he asked, and you seemed delighted that he was going along with it.

“Eh,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. “Very, I’m sure. But I cover Washington, which is definitely worse. I live in DC.”

Bradley’s breath caught in his throat. Excited disbelief had his eyes widening. There was no way. In the back of his mind he had admittedly already been thinking of how often he could feasibly make the drive from Andrews to Philly, because he knew he had to see you again. Tonight couldn’t be the only time, not with how he was feeling and how he was pretty sure you were, too.

“Small world,” he finally managed, trying to keep his voice steady despite his racing heart, and now your eyes were widening back. The happiness in them was hard to miss, and, holy shit, you were excited about this. He felt the urge to pinch himself.

“You live in DC?”

“I’m at Naval Air Facility Washington doing extended training at Joint Base Andrews,” he told you, still in a bit of disbelief, but feeling giddy.

“Ah. Navy man, huh?”

It took a moment for Bradley to realize his cheeks were red again. He doesn’t think anyone has ever made him blush before, or at least not as many times as you had tonight already.

“Naval Aviator,” he elaborated.

You smiled, and it felt like the whole world disappeared except for the two of you as you held out your glass. He raised his to tap against it in cheers. “Here’s to small worlds, then.”

“And to college roommates,” he added, and your laugh took his breath away.

The two of you sat there with your drinks in hand, and the conversation flowed effortlessly, talking about everything and anything. He found himself hanging onto your every word. He couldn't help but be drawn in by every single thing about you. He learned that you grew up here in Philadelphia and, like him, you were an only child. You got your undergrad in journalism and then a masters in political science and moved to DC before the ink was even dry. You were a little bit addicted to coffee and true crime podcasts, and you were a huge Philadelphia Eagles fan. He told you about growing up in Virginia and being in the Navy, and about his love of the 80s and playing piano.

But you talked about more than just the surface level stuff, too. As the occasional sound of laughter drifted outside from the dancefloor and the fire pit glowed in front of you, you told him how sometimes, you wondered if you were really cut out for your career, because the nature of what you had to cover drove you absolutely crazy, and you felt like people focused on the wrong things. You tended to have a self-imposed terrible work/life balance and your anxiety crept up on you because you’d ignore it for too long. You weren’t close with your parents, and your bucket list was full of things you were scared you’d never be able to do.

In return, he let you in on the reason he wanted to join the Navy in the first place, and growing up with a single mother and what it was like when she got sick. He confided how he had a bad habit of hesitating both in and out of the air, and how he didn’t really have any connections or relationships outside of the Navy that went more than just skin deep or a memory of what used to be.

He shared more with you than he had with anyone else, and somehow, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. It was like he had always known you, or at least like he was meant to now.

You were so caught up in each other that neither of you realized just how much time had passed. Before you knew it, the music from inside was starting to soften and the lights were turned back on, and the servers came outside to start collecting empty glasses and trash.

“Oh wow,” you breathed in surprise, “We missed the whole reception.”

You stared at each other in silence for a moment, and then at the same time, you burst into laughter.

“Can I walk you back to your hotel?” he asked you once you had calmed down. You had mentioned how you were staying just a few blocks away, and the thought of you walking alone or getting a car this late at night didn’t sit right with him. It was strange, how he already felt the urge to protect and care for you.

Plus, he wasn’t ready to say goodbye just yet.

“I’d like that,” you said softly, much to his relief.

The bride and groom were inside wishing everyone goodbye, and you both took a moment to speak to your respective reasonings for being there. Neither of you lingered for long, and the balmy night air greeted you again when you exited the building after collecting your coats.

You didn’t hesitate to link your arm with his when he held it out this time. He felt warm all over with you this close to him. Despite the late hour, the city was still alive with people out and about and laughter and conversation spilling out onto the sidewalk from every business you passed. He held onto you a little tighter when you walked by some decidedly way too drunk people, but you didn’t seem to mind. You kept the conversation going just as easily as it was when you were sitting on the patio, swapping embarrassing stories from your college days. You were walking through the park, nearly at your hotel, and it was when you mentioned something about dancing on a table at a frat party after too many shots of Fireball that he came to an alarming realization. He stopped so abruptly that you were slightly yanked back into his body, and you looked at him in concern. Before you could ask what was wrong, he was blurting the words out.

“I never asked you to dance.”

You gave him a confused look and then snorted in amusement. “I suppose you didn’t.”

“Oh my god,” he groaned, tilting his head back and slapping his palm to his forehead. “I had the perfect opportunity to dance with you and I never asked.”

You were still laughing, your feelings clearly not hurt at his lack of consideration. But he was already digging his phone out of his pocket and swiping open his music app. He held it out in your direction. “Pick a song,” he told you.

“What?” you laughed. “Bradley!”

“I’m serious! Pick a song.”

He pushed his phone a little closer, and with an amused look, you finally took it. You bit your lip as you thought for a moment before you started typing, and then the soft sounds of Time After Time were floating in the air.

“You said you loved the 80s,” you said almost shyly. But Bradley smiled, taking the phone back and slipping it into his jacket pocket. The music was muffled now, but you could both still hear it.

“It’s perfect,” he told you. He held out a hand for you to take, and once you slipped your palm into his, he pulled you close. You rested your head on his shoulder as you began to sway. The night was quiet and serene as you danced, and he didn’t know what he did for his night to turn out this way, but he was so glad that it did.

When the song came to an end, you stopped moving, but didn’t separate. You picked your head up and looked at him, your eyes locking together. You didn’t say anything at first, but eventually, you sighed and a soft, reluctant smile tugged at your lips.

“I should probably get back,” you whispered.

“Are you sure?” he asked, desperate to stay in your presence for as long as possible. You had entered his life so unexpectedly, and he was wishing with everything in him that you wouldn’t be leaving it anytime soon. “You aren’t going to turn into a pumpkin once the clock strikes midnight, right?”

You shook your head at his joke, giving him a playful wink in return. “I don’t know. This does feel a bit like a fairytale.”

Your words made him grow a little more serious, and he swallowed thickly as a charged energy seemed to settle over both of you. You bit your lip as you stared, your gaze wide and saying a million things at once. You had the most expressive eyes he had ever seen. He wanted to look at them forever.

"You know," he said, his voice lower now, like he was afraid to disrupt the moment by being too loud. He brought a hand up to your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “This is not how I anticipated my night going.”

The air between you crackled with unspoken words, his hand still lingering near your cheek. Then, in a move that felt natural and inevitable, he leaned in, and you met him halfway. Your lips touched softly, a spark of electricity passing between you. It was a kiss filled with promise, a taste of what could be. It was as if time stood still, the world around you fading away until it was just the two of you.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were left breathless. Bradley looked at you with a mixture of desire and genuine affection that should have scared him, but it didn’t.

"Wow," you whispered, your lips curving into a shy smile. He knew exactly what you were feeling with that one word, because he felt it too.

He brushed his nose against yours, breathing you in. “Tell me I can see you again when we get back to DC,” he begged.

You let your hand rest against his chest, and he was sure you could feel the pounding of his heart. “I was hoping so,” you said, and he breathed out a happy laugh of relief before kissing you again.

Standing there under the soft glow of the lampposts, Bradley thought he might love you already.

-----------

Masterlist

Notes: I hope y'all loved this one as much as I did! I miss these two so much.

Special thanks to Mak and Em for all of their help, and to Mak for the banner!

Tag List: @roosterforme @mak-32 @wildxwidow @gretagerwigsmuse @lilyevanswhore @too-fangirl-to-fuction @fav-fanficssss @notroosterbradshaw @teacupsandtopgun @sometimesanalice @sunflowersteves @littlezee80 @je-suis-prest-rachel @khaylin27 @infamous-reindeer @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @yanna-banana @avengersfan25 @wkndwlff @sylviebell @lt-spork @indynerdgirl @greatszu

@mssleepy876b @kassieesworld @mizzzpink @a-serene-place-to-be @sexualparkour @sadpetalsstuff @almostgenerallyalways @alilstressyandlotdepressy @ccbb2222 @taytaylala12 @shelbycillian @mavrellover91 @vici111 @lunamooncole @blackwidownat2814 @pisupsala @bellaireland1981 @jynxmirage @shanimallina87 @na-ta-sh-aa @callsign-magnolia @chaoticassidy

*I do not give permission to copy/steal, translate, or publish elsewhere*

929 notes · View notes

creative-caramel-coffee · 12 days

Text

Left Behind and Bleeding

Summary: you’ve been feeling forgotten all week when your period shows up you just want to curl up and hide. Will your girlfriends look after you this time?

TW: Angst, periods, being forgotten, anxiety, feeling left out, abandonment issues, self-doubt, mentions of drug use, teasing

Words: 1.2K

A/n: it’s that time of the month when I hit you with another period fic lol. Sorry it’s a bit short. Also … I may be projecting again … maybe hehe.

It had been a bad few days to say the least. To start off you had plans to hang out with Natasha, but she got given a last-minute mission, so you had to postpone. Which would have been fine on its own, but it seemed yo have sparked a pattern.

All week people had been cancelling on you, having some reason or another that seemed valid at the time but looking back made you overthink.

Wanda had some people she needed to visit, and you understood. But everyone seemed to be prioritising other things. Even your mother wasn’t answering your calls. Leading you to believe she was either dead or ignoring you.

On the fourth day of having nobody to hang out with in the usually very busy tower, you were getting fed up.

Your mind had been trying to spin a story that everyone simply didn’t like you. That they would rather hang out with other people and that you really didn’t have anyone in your corner.

Of course, you had been fighting the notion for days now, but it was getting harder to ignore as people continued to have bigger, better things to do without you.

Nat had gotten back from her mission and had immediately gone to do some training and after you caught her watching a movie with Clint. You had moped around your room all afternoon, feeling like you were a B-list avenger at best.

Your mind had convinced you that nobody cared and so you had spent the afternoon crying alone in your room.

When dinner came, it seemed everyone had returned. Something you had not been counting on, so your eyes were still red and puffy when Jarvis announced dinner.

In a panic you threw on some sunglasses in an attempt to keep the others from finding out.

Yet it had simply orchestrated a point of teasing for the whole meal. Everyone wanted to know why you were wearing them, but you kept your head down and tried to seem cheerful.

Sam was trying to convince people that you must have been high, while wanda could practically hear your loud thoughts from the other end of the table. Her and Nat exchanged expressions when you got up from the meal not even halfway through.

Feeling awful you almost cried when you got back to your room to discover your period had started.

Life seemed to be throwing more than a few curveballs at you, it was throwing the full field.

You stuck in a pad and threw on some warm pjs before crawling under the covers and letting a few tears fall while your breathing evened out.

Wanda had finished her dinner around the same time as Natasha had so, they had met up in the kitchen while washing their dishes.

“Wanda?” Nat asked from where she was drying her plate off.

“Yeah?” Wanda asked, her hands covered in suds.

Nat chewed her lip for a second before carefully selecting her words. “Was there … anyone off with Y/n these last few days?” Nat asked.

“I don’t know why?” Wanda said and Nat frowned.

“What do you mean ‘I don’t know’ werent you here?” Nat said.

“No? I told you I was visiting friends for a few days.” Wanda said.

“Oh my god.” Nat said feeling bad. “Did we both ditch her for a week?”

“No? I mean surely, she had the others to hang out with. Right?” Wanda said.

“Jarvis?” Nat called to the ceiling.

“Yes, Ms Romanoff what can I do for you?” The AI responded.

“Who in the past week has cancelled plans with Y/n?” Nat asked.

“In the past week I believe each of the avengers have been either ‘too busy’ or had ‘other plans’ to spend time with Ms L/n.” Jarvis said.

“Oh god.” Wanda said. “Jarvis? What has Y/n been doing this past week?”

“Ms L/n has spent most of her time in her room. Either sleeping or crying. She also has been avoiding everyone for the last half of the week.” Jarvis said and Wanda and Natasha’s hearts broke.

“We are the worst girlfriends ever.” Wanda said feeling awful.

“We should go check on her.” Nat agreed and the two of them headed for the lift.

When they stood outside your bedroom door Natasha hesitated for a second.

“What if she doesn’t want to see us?” Nat asked.

“Im sure she will, it’s Y/n. She may be sad but her hearts still twenty-four carat.” Wanda said and Nat nodded and knocked.

When no response came, she gently opened the door. Making out a Y/n shaped lump in the bed she entered and quietly walked over to your side.

Wanda took note of the chocolate wrappers on your bedside table and the hot water bottle you had cuddled up to.

You had seemingly used your powers to heat up the water-bottle and your brow was creased in pain.

“Nat?” Wanda said and Natasha nodded.

“I see.” She said.

Wanda sighed and slipped into bed behind you. Gently playing with your hair as Nat went to search for some pain medicine for you, knowing that you wouldn’t have taken any yet.

Wanda rubbed slow circles on your back and brushed a hand onto your cheek.

“Y/n baby, can you open your eyes for me my love?” Wanda asked softy. You let out a small whimper and Wanda’s heart melted.

“Wands?” You asked in a small voice.

“Yes, baby its me.” She said pressing a featherlight kiss to your cheekbone.

“Hurts.” You said softly and she nodded.

“Natty’s gone to get you some medicine.” Wanda said just as Natasha walked back in with some pills and a glass of water.

“Here you go my sweet girl.” Nat said as wanda helped sit you up, leaning into her side.

Nat passed you the medicine and you took it without protest, telling both girls just how bad you were really feeling.

“I’m sorry we weren’t here my love.” Nat said brushing a curl from your cheek.

“That’s ok. You had important things to do.” You mumbled into Wanda’s chest where you had buried your face.

“Baby girl, nothings more important than you.” Wanda said stroking your hair.

“Why don’t we put on a movie, and you can try and get some sleep ok?” Nat said gently and you nodded, shuffling over to make room for her on the bed.

Wanda used her magic to open the small mini fridge in the room and floated a pint of your favourite icecream and three spoons over.

“I got this for you before I left my love.” Wanda said with a smile passing you a spoon.

Natasha slipped in beside you and Wanda, passing you the remote you put on an episode of Parks and Recreation as you began to eat some icecream and cuddle.

After a few spoonfuls Nat stole the container, Afterall you have been making a mess. There was even icecream on your nose which wanda softly kissed away, making you giggle as you begun doze in the presence of your two amazing girlfriends.

210 notes · View notes

artsyhamster · 7 months

Text

Disease from within, called love

#ofmd #izzy hands #israel hands #ofmd fanart #izzy is like the poster boy for unrequited love how could i not hanahaki him #flower's a blackdahlia btw because i am a sucker for drama. it means betrayal #could either mean guilt for betraying blackbeard or feeling betrayed by being replaced and forgotten #idk pick your drama #i just wanted a new phone background so cheers #anyway i am HUNGRY for season 2 #oh yeah very loosely inspired by a fic called 'black velvet petunia'#altho obviously i chose a different flower sdghghj

415 notes · View notes

bg-brainrot · 2 months

Text

"When He’s all but Forgotten How to Love Again" - Astarion x GN!Reader - Series Masterlist

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader (Elf!Tav for plot reasons)

Genre: Reincarnation, Angst, Mystery, Slow burn

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Tags: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, POV Second Person, Canon-Typical Violence, cw: blood, cw: Astarion's entire backstory, cw: sex, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Eventual Fluff, Grief, Mourning, Developing Relationship

Series WC: 113k words and ongoing, 21/?? chapters

Summary: An Elf-Tav reincarnation story where Reincarnated!Tav dreams about Astarion in their nightly reveries and eventually seeks him out once they reach maturity. Things definitely totally go well.

Author’s Notes: I'm bringing over some of my multi-chapter fics from AO3, so if you've already read this, ty!! I love you and appreciate you so much! I will continue to add chapters as I format them, but the full fic is available on AO3 here if you're feeling like a binge.

Heads up-- while there will be explicit moments, this is first and foremost focused on romantic tension and yearning, asking the question: 'Would you still love me if I was someone completely different?’ Explicit scenes will be few and far between and very much focused on their feelings. It’s essentially an established relationship slow burn?

This has unascended Astarion, “good” choices are made in the original timeline, Tav needs to be an elf for this to work, but otherwise no specifics on past Tav. Present day Tav is a magic-user.

Chapters:

Chapter 1: Knifes and Nightmares

At 12 years old, you first dream of the Pale Elf. The encounter scares you and sets you on your path forward.

Chapter 2: The Second Encounter with the Pale Elf

Nearly 19, you think you have a handle of your past lives. However, not all of your past lives are created equal.

Chapter 3: What it Means to Love

Now 29, you're still trying to piece together parts of your past. In particular, what exactly was your relationship with Astarion?

Chapter 4: In this Lifetime

Now 99-years-old, you've managed to ignore your worst impulses to run off to Baldur's Gate. One night's reverie finally breaks you.

Chapter 5: Guidance from a Druid

After finally setting off to find Astarion, you receive a confounding memory from your past life. Ignoring what it might mean, you focus on your task and visiting Halsin, one of your past-self's friends.

Chapter 6: The Man of your Dreams

You make your way toward Astarion, trying your best to prepare for the encounter to come.

Chapter 7: Just One Night

You plead your case to the vampire.

Chapter 8: Who You Have Become

You try to learn more of who Astarion's become, while also trying to convince him of who you were.

Chapter 9: Ghosts of You

After he storms off, you try to track Astarion down only to find yourself on a trip down memory lane. Once you do catch his trail, you’re surprised to see where he’s gone.

Chapter 10: Overheard in the Underdark

You traverse a new landscape, looking for Astarion. What you find might be more than you bargain for, and what you hear might be too much to handle.

Chapter 11: An Interrogation

You spend the night in vampire prison and have a difficult conversation.

Chapter 12: The Source of his Pain

As you aim to leave and never look back, Astarion realizes that perhaps *he's* the one that made the mistake.

Chapter 13: And They Were Roommates

You and Astarion try to find a common ground between you. Things are awkward and tentative, and progress is anything but linear.

Chapter 14: A Blossoming Friendship

Now in your second week of living together, you and Astarion have to get past some of the hurdles your first week introduced, all while getting a bit closer along the way.

Chapter 15: More than Friends Pt. 1

Push finally comes to shove. As fun as living in the present is, Astarion forgets that present dangers are still very, very real. Afterward, emotions run high, and you find yourself in a familiar predicament.

Chapter 16: More than Friends Pt. 2

After talking through the previous night's tryst, emotions are confused, pasts are divulged, and everything comes to a head when your heart and soul want different things.

Chapter 17: What We are Now

When you’re left to your own devices, you find yourself knee-deep in mystery. Despite all of this, Astarion never leaves your mind. And perhaps you never leave his.

Chapter 18: Traveling with a Friend

You and Astarion travel together to Waterdeep. Emotions run high as you reconnect and reestablish your boundaries.

Chapter 19: The Wizard’s Tower

After traveling through Waterdeep, you and Astarion finally arrive at Gale's tower. Introductions are made, tours are had, and the relationship between yourself and Astarion continues to remain complicated.

Chapter 20: Sweets and Shopping

After receiving some advice from Gale, you and Astarion spend the day shopping and talking through your friendship.

Chapter 21: Dansarra’s Delights

Your wizard friend gives you a nigh impossible task, and you spend the day trying to find your opening to complete it.

Chapter 22 - TBA

...

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion masterlist #gn reader #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #astarion baldurs gate #bg3 astarion #when he's all but forgotten how to love again #whabfhtla #reincarnation trope #elf!tav #astarion x you #astarion slowburn

182 notes · View notes

bcyhoods · 3 months

Note

lovefool — “you’re welcome to stay, if you want” w eddie!!

librarian!reader is always calling my name so i needed to do something before i combusted | 1.1k fem!reader

Eddie’s got his feet propped up on the study table and his chair teetering on its hind legs. The dull sound of his rings tapping the hardcover in his hands fills the immediate space. Despite the fact that he’s actually read this particular horror novel at least thrice before, today it only serves as bookworm-ish guise.

The boy aimlessly flicks through the pages, eyes reflexively leaping over entire paragraphs to peak over at the reception desk. With each glance, he feels his heart start racing, his stomach starts flipping. And it has nothing to do with Stephen King, everything to do with you.

You’re sitting behind the polished wood with a pair of deep auburn-colored reading glasses perched on the bridge of your nose. Every so often, they slide down and prompt you to scrunch the muscles in your face and wiggle them back up. Whenever you ultimately give up and push them back into place with your finger, Eddie smiles to himself.

The pair of you have spoken quite a handful of times, but it only took Eddie seconds within that first interaction to be smitten. You’d worn a pretty color on your lips, an even prettier smile behind it. Your eyes lit up upon seeing the tower of Tolkien novels he’d placed in front of you to check out, then you’d complimented his taste, then his hair. Then as if to seal the deal, you reached underneath the desk to retrieve a flimsy bookmark with a map of Middle Earth and placed it on top of the stack.

Now, he’s proud to be a frequent library-goer. Admittedly he feels a little silly about it, at first. But the flash of recognition that crosses your face before you wave at him makes him forget.

You float through the building, burning hot under his watchful eye, shutting off yellow desk lamps and bidding farewell to patrons with a sweet smile. The closer you get to him, the more the familiar aroma of cigarettes and his cologne seem to engulf you. It’s your turn now to have your heart beat erratically in your chest.

“Hi, Eddie.” Your saccharine voice cuts through the silence and has him immediately closing his book. He gazes up at you, big brown eyes boring right into yours. Like he knows you’re about to swat his feet, he grins and kicks his legs down onto the floor.

“Hey,” he sighs out.

“Carrie’s that good, huh? ”

Eddie’s head twists in confusion. It’s like your presence sent him face first into a stupor, and now he’s racking his brain trying to figure out what you were asking. Only when you smirk and point at him does he realize you’re talking about the book. The book that’s in his hand, that he was meant to be reading this whole time.

“Oh! Yeah, Carrie,” he confirms with a gummy smile as he waves the novel up, “What can I say? The lady calls to me. You finished it yet?”

You wince at the question. A few weeks ago you’d each recommended each other a book, per Eddie’s suggestion. He’d read your recommendation within the week, returning it with a broad smile that made you feel giddy. It’s taken you a little longer. He sees it all over your face and gasps.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t read it, yet? You’re really hurting my feelings here, sweetheart.”

The nickname makes your heart catch in your throat and stumble on your words for a second. “It’s—I just…I started it! I promise. I just haven’t had time to read the whole thing,” you explain through a shy smile.

Eddie chuckles at your suddenly bashful demeanor before an idea pops into his mind. Even thinking about it makes him blush. He doesn’t give himself much time to dwell on the idea of your rejection before he’s blurting it out.

“I can read it to you.”

You watch him, surveying his expression to find any hint that he’s joking. But he’s got a doe-eyed look on his face. He’s dragging one of his rings across the curve of his lips with uncertainty.

“You’d…? You’re kidding,” you decide matter-of-factly.

He vigorously shakes his head, hair flying in every direction as he throws his hand over his chest. A bright smile shines across his face. “Cross my heart. I’ve been told I got a shot in the audiobook industry. Might even hear me on one of those little cassettes in the future.”

The boy is lying through his teeth. It’s rare that someone indulged in a positive conversation with him, let alone complimented his voice. Though, it makes you huff out a laugh, maybe a little too loud for a library setting and he swears his heart is about to break out of his rib cage.

You nod at him rather emphatically and agree, “Must be your charisma.” Your hand drops to pick at the chipped wood of the table and your gaze drops with it to hide from him.

“Hey, your words.” He tosses his hands up in the air, smugness tugging at the corners of his mouth. He clears his throat before asking, “What do you say? Think it’d be good practice for me to have a live audience.”

He looks so genuine, a soft expression taking over rough features. His leg bounces under the table with anticipation. His fingers move to where yours are, and he hesitantly reaches his pinky to your own. It’s just a tap, but it sends a tingle up your entire arm and has you reciprocating the touch.

He’s making it so hard for you to say no. You glance up at the clock on the nearby wall and frown. “Well, right now I’m kinda supposed to tell you that the library closes in a few minutes.”

Eddie spares a glance behind you and realizes that he’s the last person on this floor, maybe the entire building.

“Oh. Yeah, well…some other time.” His shoulders sink just slightly before he’s standing upright and smiling at you. “I’ll get out of your hair, m’lady.” He bends at the waist to bow at you, waving his arms theatrically.

You’re smiling at him again, something warm and entirely too sweet. As he turns to the exit, you feel something tug at your chest. Like he’s taking a piece of you with him. It has you calling out before you’re able to stop yourself.

“Eddie?”

He twists back and hums.

“You’re welcome to stay, if you want. I mean I’d love to take you up on the offer, if you don’t mind following me around while I reshelve some returns?” A nervous laugh falls from your mouth as you hitch your thumb towards the non-fiction shelves. Eddie spots your other hand still picking at the chipped wood.

He beams at you with flushed cheeks and a puffed chest.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

#the long forgotten celebration……………#im workikg throigh them! im motivated mow! not to fret!#ily roma thank you for sending this in <4333362525 #ᝰ cece’s scribbles #✸ 100 celebration!#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson hc #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #stranger things blurb #stranger things fluff #stranger things fic #joseph quinn

222 notes · View notes