#this would be a sick AU to write. maybe I’ll do it someday

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

Roommate!AU — Winter Soldier x Female!Reader

He’s the villain. She’s the hero. They are roommates and have no idea about each other’s secret identity.

moodboard masterlist

#this would be a sick AU to write. maybe I’ll do it someday #roommate!bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes moodboard #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes scenario #the winter soldier #winter solider #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #winter soldier x y/n #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan moodboard #marvel #marvel moodboard

[strawberryya]

The art of seduction - part one

pairing: jeong yunho x reader

synopsis: Since she left you, it feels like your life has been turned upside down, and you're struggling to find your footing. He sees that, and he wants to help. Or maybe it's not as pure as that. Perhaps he's just looking for a new plaything — an artist to inspire, or someone to slowly destroy.

word count: 4.5k

genre/cw: angst, smut, suggestive, fantasy, thriller and/or romance, yandere themes, supernatural au, faery au, leanan sídhe!yunho, human!reader, they/them pronounces for reader, I tried my best to keep all descriptions gn as well - I welcome all feedback on this area ofc, grief and death depicted/mentioned, specific smut warnings will be listed in each part.

rating: 18+

a/n: this has been a big project for so many people this year, and I would like to thank all of the inspiring people in this collab for all the fantastic ideas that has been contributed to make all of these fics possible. it has been a journey writing this, but this fic is only the beginning of the even longer journey that yunho and our mc will be going on ;)

this is part one of my first fic for the wonderful collaboration thrill of the hunt, hosted by @cultofdionysusnet - check out the other exciting and thrilling stories on the official master list here!

the second part to this story will be found here once it's posted. if you wish to be tagged in the continuation you can dm me, send an ask, or comment on this post <3

network tagging: @svthub @cultofdionysusnet @k-labels @kvanity-main

“Oh, he’s the most wonderful man I’ve ever met, y/n! He’s perfect… I didn’t think anyone could be so perfect until he came into my life. He makes me feel like I’ll never need anything ever again… like he and I are enough forever. I need you to meet him someday soon! I wanna introduce you to him, I promise you’ll love him too!”

You never got the chance to meet him. The more you think about it, the more you regret not making more of an effort to do so. Your best friend Anna had been in love with someone, and you hadn’t even had the chance to meet the man she spoke so fondly of. 

“I haven’t been feeling very good lately, y/n… I’ve been to the doctors and they say there’s nothing wrong. They said it’s all in my head, that I should go talk to someone… y/n, do you also think I’m making myself sick?” 

She only got weaker after that. 

And he had seemingly fallen off the face of the earth after she became bedridden. 

She said he came to visit, but she wasn’t in her right mind in those final weeks. Nobody had signed in at the reception. Nobody had seen a beautiful man with dark brown hair that gleamed blood-red when the sun shone. During all that time when she was admitted into the psychological ward at the city’s second-largest hospital you and Anna’s mom were the only visitors. 

They said she was mad…

You had wondered a lot about who he might’ve been during those times when she had talked about him as if she had just spoken to him, but nobody had seen anyone in her room. Had he been a fraction of her imagination the entire time? Or had her mind created a lie based on a man who had left her before her illness took over her mind and body? 

When she passed he was the one piece of the puzzle that you couldn’t let go of. If you had tried harder to meet him, would her illness have been caught earlier? Could it have been found and treated before it took her life…?

You’ve been staying late at the studio lately, trying to get through your feelings about losing her through your art. The shadows in the room seem to close in on you at every chance they get, and you don’t fight them. Hugged by the darkness is somehow better than being left so completely alone. 

The brush strokes soothe you like nothing else is able to. Fizzling seas crash along the shore, a looming tree stands barren and alone, and her face appears in the dark clouds. 

The only things you know to be true are that: she is gone, you are in pain, and you can only paint this one single picture. The lonesome tree at the cliff, watching the storms and waves trying to pull the ground away from beneath the large oak tree. You paint it over and over again, day after day, and you haven’t even paid any mind to when other artists have come and gone through the studio. People painted right next to you, people posed on the podium in front of you, and you didn’t care about any of it. All that matters to you is that you have been left all alone. 

Your best friend has died, and you can’t even do the one thing you have been able to do your entire life ー paint. You had pursued your passion fiercely, not budging even as your parents pleaded with you to be reasonable and try “having a career worth having”, and let painting stay as a hobby. It was how you had met Anna. She was a dancer, and she had gotten into the same art college as you. Back then you had both been carefree young adults, simply trying your best to survive on your own for the first time in your lives. Now, she has left you, with the bittersweet taste of the last conversations you had had with her on your tongue. 

“He inspires me you know, I’m just a dancer anymore when he looks at me, I become the air itself.” 

You had smiled and nodded at her nonsense, she seemed to be dreaming of it. Her limbs were too weak to be of use, but she had the same smile on her lips as when she performed. You had tried your best not to be mad at her for only speaking of this man even as she lay dying in a hospital, dreaming of her passion was at least better than dreaming of him. The tears had stung your eyes as you held her hand before leaving her to her rambling. 

It has been a while since her funeral, and you have practically been living at the studio. Home doesn’t make you feel any better, so you sleep on the small pullout couch in the corner instead. It isn’t meant to be slept on and your back is sore from the many nights in a row you have spent on it. But the art studio is at least comforting you more than home. You have too many memories of Anna in your apartment. Here you can focus on your art. At least, that’s the idea. You have had no inspiration since her death. It’s strange, she hadn’t exactly been the reason you painted, but everything that happened still affected even that part of you. 

You had begun questioning if you should give it all up, move home to your parents for a few months, and go back to your waitress job until you had processed all of this. But could you give up on your passion? After years of struggling to pass courses and hustling on the side of your studies just to make it all work? What would Anna say if she knew…?

You aren’t sure how it happened, it might've been a dream. It’s barely been three weeks since Anna’s funeral and you woke up with the clearest picture of a man you had never met in your mind. 

He’s handsome, just like she had told you. He has gentle features, and dark, captivating eyes that catch hold of your mind and refuse to let go. You can’t seem to escape the image of the stranger you know in your bones is the same man Anna had known. 

Sometime after the day you had first seen him in your mind, after hours in front of your easel and a blank canvas, you finally force yourself to pick up the brush. This couldn’t be the end of pursuing the only career you had ever wanted. You need to get over it and paint something, other than that stubborn tree and the punishing sea. His features burn your eyelids, and you see him as you blink and dream of him as you sleep. You can’t escape the visions, so you make him real, tangible. You create a portrait of the man in your head. Watching the finished portrait once you put down the brush. 

You look at it until it gets dark again, staring into his eyes until you fall asleep on the couch in the corner. 

You wake up with a headache. You groan quietly since you neither have the energy nor the will to get up and take something for the throbbing pain stemming from the sides of your head. Before you could even summon the will to get up despite this, you almost jumped off the couch in surprise. There is another person in the room. You’re still in the corner of the room, so the stranger might’ve missed that you were even there, you reason. It looks like a man from behind. His short dark hair lay in a rather messy way against the back of his head. He’s turned away from you, watching the painting you had fallen asleep staring at. He’s tall, his shoulders are broad. You panic, because what did this man want, and why was he here in the middle of the night?

“Who are you?” you ask breathlessly, jumping up from the couch, trying to see if he’s someone you know in the dim light. Could he be another artist here to paint at an odd hour? You don’t recognize him, but you aren’t the best at remembering people, so you’re not sure if you should be screaming or apologizing for your hostile greeting. 

The man didn’t even flinch at the sound of your voice. He didn’t seem like a threat, but then again, something about him creeped you out. You ignore the fact that he also intrigued you, and try to catch his attention again. “Hey, I asked you a question.” In response, he simply raises a hand as if to shush you. 

This man hadn’t just broken into the studio late at night – he was also incredibly rude. The air around him is so still, so calm that it’s giving you chills. You want to see his face. If he was going to murder you, you want to have looked the fucker in the eye so you can, at least, curse his existence. You take a step forward, grabbing a long paintbrush from the drying rack. Maybe you can get his eye if you’re fast enough.

“So aggressive, little dove,” the man finally says. His voice is smooth and deep. It’s an attractive voice, at least your murderer has a nice voice, not that that makes this situation salvageable. You’re still prepared to stab him with the wooden brush in your hand. 

“Wouldn’t you be aggressive if you woke up to a stranger in your bedroom as well?” 

You had tried putting on a brave face, hoping that he wouldn’t notice how scared you were. He seemed to see through this facade easily though, chuckling at your attempt instead of turning around to face you. “Not your bedroom. I’ve been to your bedroom and this isn’t it. Also, not really a stranger, am I?” 

Your breath won’t calm down, and your heart is beating mercilessly in your chest. This man had been in your apartment? And you know him? What the hell is he talking about? “Are you some kind of stalker you fucking creep?” you wheeze out, taking a step away from him. 

You desperately wish for this to be some kind of nightmare. 

When he turns around you’re sure it is because there’s no way the man you see in front of you isn’t just a fiction of your imagination. Dark hair, streaks of red when the light from the window hits it. Perfect lips, and captivating eyes. It’s him. The man in your painting, alive right in front of you. Your grip on the brush tightens, the bristles folding backward from the pressure of your palm. The world began to spin, he wasn’t real, he couldn’t be real. You see the edges of your vision blur and his smile widens at the visible panic you were displaying. 

He was right, he isn’t a stranger. 

“I think you might’ve heard about me, little dove. She used to talk about you ー the talented artist she had met in college.”

It couldn’t be, you hear the blood rushing in your ears like thunder. “Who?” 

He smiled innocently, “Don’t you remember your friend? Anna, I think her name was.” 

No. It couldn’t be true. The brush fell from your hand as you fell to the ground. Your already sleep-deprived mind couldn’t handle the thought that maybe the man Anna had spoken about was real, and right in front of you. Knocking yourself unconscious was the only thing your body could do to stop your heart from giving out. 

Have you gone mad as well? Maybe this was your way of grieving? Should you go to the hospital?

The questions spun in your mind. He was gone when you woke up. But the long brush in your hand and the bruises on your knees and shoulder felt like substantial proof that you had not lost your mind. He had been here, you know it, but who would believe you if you told them? Who would even care?

You decide to let it go, instead, you force yourself to go back to your apartment. A change of clothes was needed and you know that the lady down the hallway will be worried after not having seen you for days yet again. She had been at Anna’s funeral, wondering how and why your roommate had passed so quickly at such a young age. You hadn’t known what to answer. You still didn’t have your own answers as to “how” or “why”. At least, none that you could share…

You had managed to shower and get into some clothes when your neighbor knocked on the door. 

“Hi, Auntie,” you greet her as she had insisted you do ever since you and Anna had first moved in. She’s older than any of your real aunts, but remarking on that had felt incredibly inappropriate, so you had both simply accepted your fate and begun calling her “Auntie”. 

"Darling!" How are you? I haven't seen you here in days! I was beginning to worry. You know, this was just how it was with Anna, I didn’t see her for days and then she would show up saying she had been busy practicing and dating and whatnot!”

You don’t respond, forcing a smile. She meant well, but when she insisted on bringing you some food you wanted to refuse her. She didn’t mind your protests, “Oh, dear child, you don’t even know how sunken your face looks. You need some of my home-cooked food to get your spirits back up!” 

In the end, your refrigerator was filled with casseroles and little boxes of different dishes, and a bitter feeling, knowing you wouldn’t be here to eat it. You left your apartment as swiftly as you had arrived, not wanting to stick around long enough to see the traces of a life lived – a life you didn’t feel belonged to you anymore. You brought what you could carry in your bag back to the studio. 

You fall asleep again, after hours of trying to create something, only creating more pain in your back from sitting on the wooden stool all afternoon instead. It’s not like you hadn’t tried your best to think about anything else besides him, you had actually tried your very best! But in the end, your mind kept wandering back to the dip of his lips, and the grin on his face as you fainted. You painted the outline of his lips, over and over again. 

You hated him. 

Would he come back?

He had mocked you with his words.

Why had you felt such a rush when he spoke?

You never wanted to see his perfect face ever again.

Why couldn’t you stop wishing to see him just one more time? 

You woke from a cool hand on your hair. Slowly and gently he patted your head until you opened your eyes. It was still dark out, and he was back. Leaning over your sleeping body, a large hand caressing the side of your head. You scream, and he smirks. He shushes you, and you push him away angrily. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” you shout. 

“You wanted to see me again, I thought it best to wake you so your wishes could be fulfilled.” His voice coursed through you, giving you goosebumps again. “Don’t be angry with me, little dove.”

“I don’t want you here.”

“Don’t lie. It’s not polite,” he retorts as soon as the words leave your mouth. 

“I don’t care, I hate you. Leave me alone!” You bark out the words, tears stinging your eyes. You don’t know why you’re reacting so strongly to him. 

His tongue darts out to lick at his lips in annoyance. “Little dove,” he chirps menacingly, “Lie one more time and I won’t help you anymore.”

He terrifies you. He’s beautiful, but nothing about him feels true. He’s like those beautiful flowers forever trapped inside glass orbs. You wanted to protect the frozen beauty from getting the slightest scratch and smash it to pieces, all at once. 

“Help me…?”

The gentle smile on his lips came back when you revealed that he had managed to pique your interest. “Mm, I help people. Artists, especially… it’s an interest of mine, the arts.” He winked at you, which caught you off guard. 

“And you came here to help me?” 

He nodded, but you weren’t convinced. 

“Why? I didn’t ask for any help from you.”

He looked around the room, gaze wandering over the canvasses you had painted in the last couple of weeks, all depicting the shore and the dead tree. All except two. The portrait of him, and the sketches of his lips. 

“You did that?” You ask incredulously. His gaze snaps back to you sharply. 

“Of course. Didn’t it feel different? It felt like you had been inspired by something again, did it not?” His voice is honey in your ears, but the sticky feeling is making you want to flee for your life. You don’t. 

“Want me to prove it?”

You frown, “What do you mean prove it? Are you going to inspire me to paint something on the spot in the middle of the night?”

“Tell me you want it and I’ll make sure you feel inspired for the rest of your miserable human life, little dove.” 

His wording is so unnatural, you think for just a moment. You don’t trust him one bit, but perhaps this is the way to convince yourself that he is indeed just some creep that you need to get away from. You take a deep breath before answering, “I’ll agree if you tell me your name.”

The man stepped back, you had made him flinch. You don’t know why you made that exact demand. Maybe you had just really wanted to call him something other than “the one Anna spoke of” in your mind. It hurt each time you remembered her name.

“A name can be more powerful than you think, little dove,” his tone warned you of something. He seems on edge for the first time since you met him. 

You don’t budge, his reaction only makes you more sure that you need to follow your gut. “Tell me, and you can help me.”

He hesitated before seemingly giving in to some innate need that you didn’t understand yet. “Yunho. That’s one of my names… Use it with care, little dove.”

You turned his name around in your mind, tasting the sweet taste on your tongue as you said it out loud. “Yunho… Sure, help me find inspiration to paint again.”

The same excited and menacing grin he had worn the last time you spoke now grace his lips again, and you feel you have committed a horrible mistake. 

You look around the room, the sun is rising and casting long shadows from the easels placed around the podium. How has the entire night already passed you by? You have no memory of sleeping. You look at your hands, they are covered in paint. Why had you been so messy? You couldn’t remember right away. You know that you have painted. Yunho had kissed your hand, you can still remember the heat of his breath on your skin. Then you had picked up your brush. You hadn’t been frightened by the fact that you weren’t in control of your actions. After the weeks of forcing yourself to do the most basic human functions to stay alive, having something else move your hand in your stead was somehow freeing. 

When you look at the canvas your breath stops. It’s him, you have painted him again. He’s not completely like himself, however, he is just as captivating in the picture as he is in reality. You had managed to capture his beautiful features, from the way his cupid’s bow dips graciously on his lips, to the way his hair gleams blood red when light shines through it. But behind him is something new, something you have never seen belonging to a human before. Wings, almost translucent wings, appearing on the canvas as a shimmer of light blue and white, adorned with shimmering ruby gemstones. He looked magnificent. 

“Pretty,” you hear his voice whisper on your neck before you feel his soft lips press against your skin. You shiver, it feels good but you’re still in shock, watching the man who’s behind you on the canvas in front of you. 

“How is this possible?” you mumble.

“You were inspired,” he responds calmly, brushing your hair away from your face from behind. “Did you enjoy it?”

You have a feeling that the answer to that is yes, but you also know you shouldn’t reveal that. “I don’t remember.”

“I think you did… I know you did.” 

The way he seems to know everything, even the things you don’t, scares you a bit. But you might be addicted to the feeling of his touch, you’re addicted to what he can do to you, addicted to what he makes you feel deep inside. He has given you your passion back, he has helped you paint again, and you had enjoyed it this time. This shouldn’t be possible. Why does this man have so much power over you that he could help you paint as you had used to, for the first time since Anna’s passing? 

There’s no way he’s human, no human looked like he did. In the morning light, he was even more dashing, even more unreal. You want to smash his perfect exterior to pieces and see the flower inside rot as the air hits its delicate petals. 

“Go away. I don’t want this,” you choke out, pushing down the sobs that threaten to escape your throat. He kisses your neck again, but you don’t move. “I think I’ll die if I don’t end this Yunho. Please, just leave me alone.”

“It’s possible, but maybe you’ll be the one who makes it out alive.” His honey voice rang in your ears as the day began and his touch against your back disappeared. You cried yourself to sleep. You knew everything was wrong, Yunho was wrong. But there was nothing you could do about it anymore. 

Two days passed without so much as a glimpse of Yunho. The hours of the night when he didn’t come to see you had almost been enough to convince you that you had truly gone mad. But then, suddenly, there he was, as dashing as ever. Pretty eyes watching you stare at an empty easel. 

A chilling chuckle escaped him, nothing more. He stands and gazes upon your hopeless state for a while in silence. You will never get rid of him, you realize. You’re not upset about it. You can’t be upset. Nothing feels real anymore. 

Yunho circles you, a predator watching his prey. You don’t flinch under his gaze this time. When he leans his lean body against the stool next to yours you feel disgusted. You weren’t upset that he would never leave you alone, but you deserved to know why, at least. 

“What do you want from me?”

“Want?” He sounds almost offended. 

“You’re not here just because it’s fun to sit around and watch me paint all day.”

He didn’t give you an answer, he just smiled at you with that perfectly enchanting smile of his. He’s dangerous, his beauty is dangerous. He leans forward on the stool, his face now scarily close to yours. Will he kiss you…? You can feel Yunho’s breath, hot against your lips, his gaze burning as he stares into your eyes and flickers down to your mouth. Do you want him to kiss you…? 

What do you want from him?

You almost forget that he hasn’t given you an answer when he bends forward, his lips inches away from yours. This time you do flinch. Can he read your mind too? No, your eyes stare right back into his, a flash of maroon tints his irises an unnatural color before it disappears just as fast as it showed up. 

His thumb drags across the side of your cheek, a small smirk plays on Yunho’s deceptive lips. “I’ll make you a promise,” he whispers, “I promise to make sure you’re motivated to do what you love the most, for the rest of your life.”

His breath burns hot against your wet lips. You want to kiss him. “A promise…?” you exhale, mind not quite able to focus on his words, but they sound good to you right now. You swallow, eyes flickering to his perfectly shaped cupid bow, his rosy lips, and the tongue that teases behind his plump lips. “What… what would I have to do…?” 

“A clever dove, I knew you would ask the right questions.”

You didn’t truly understand though, too distracted by Yunho’s eyes mirroring your flickering gaze, teasingly watching the way your hands fiddled with the brush in your hand. 

“All you have to do in return is say that you agree, and I will fulfill all of your wishes.” His soothing hand moves around to the nape of your neck, his grip gentle but secure. 

Will he fulfill them all? 

Does it even matter? Almost anything would be good enough to accept right now, at least you can’t think of something that would be worse than walking through life as the zombie you had been since… Since Anna’s death. If you accept his proposal, will you find out what happened to her? 

“I agree.” 

Your stomach flips when plush lips are pressed against yours. It seems he had already begun living up to his word. At least he wasn’t playing a trick on you when it came to that part. His hands travel over your body, he knows exactly how to touch you the way you like it. Has he been watching you for a long time? Or is it something magical, like those shimmery wings you had imagined he had? You’re not sure, but knowing could wait until later. Right now you have a couple of needs. Needs that Yunho had promised to fulfill. His leg firmly presses open your legs, strong muscle relieving some of the intense pressure that had built up in your lower abdomen since the thought of having him in this way had sprouted in your mind. You need more. You close your eyes even tighter as you let the brush fall from your grip. Hands moving across Yunho’s perfect form without hesitation. 

The sound of the brush hitting the floor didn’t reach your ears. You were already lost to the world of humans. 

“Do you believe in fairies? I do. I think there are things we don’t know in this world. Magical things. If I could go there I would, I think it’s a beautiful place, nothing like Earth. I’d want to dance for them…”

Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕

#kwritersworldnet #thrill of the hunt #yunho smut #ateez imagines #ateez smut #yunho angst #ateez x reader #atz #yunho #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #ateez yunho

[pink-bandana-writes]

Margaritas and Misunderstandings

Raphael x Reader

Summary: Raphael never expected to meet his soulmate, especially not at a college Halloween party.

Notes: I love writing college-age turtles lol and I also really love soulmate aus and haven’t written any on this blog yet, so enjoy! Let me know if you want more parts to this one, I really like Raph and reader’s dynamic here.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing

Word Count: 2k

Reader Is: In college, female

Raphael had been convinced the words on his arm were a joke, some cruel reminder the universe had given him that he was unlovable. He wasn’t meant to have a soulmate. Look, he’d urge himself, standing in the mirror. Look at that. Ain’t no one gonna love all that.

The ink had appeared around the time Raph turned eighteen, about a month before his eighteenth birthday, in fact, when his existence was still, for the most part, a secret and every girl he’d interacted with thus far had fainted when they saw him, April included, though she was now a very dear friend of theirs. He was twenty-one now. He and his brothers were going to a human college on the surface, slowly but surely integrating themselves into human society.

Raph had been convinced, really truly convinced, that the words on his arm still didn’t mean anything, couldn’t mean anything. Until Leo met his soulmate, that was.

He remembered the frantic message to the group chat the brothers shared. Leo was at the library. The others were en route to study with him, but he’d gotten out of class before the others. Sure enough, he’d bumped into some quiet little bookworm in the library and said the words on her wrist, causing her to say exactly what was written on Leo’s in return.

That had been a few months before, right at the beginning of the school year. Leo was dating her now, obviously. Her name was Isabella and Raph thought she was…nice. It kinda made him sick how perfect she and Leo were together. Just reminded him how alone he was, but more than that, it stirred up the anxiety deep in the pit of his stomach, the constant reminder that he did have a soulmate and someday…they’d look him in the eye and say “Shit, I’m so sorry!”

Even if he did have a soulmate. Even if they did find him someday, what was the point? It seemed like they weren’t very happy to see him, whoever they were.

So Raph went about his life, trying to ignore the words on his wrist as best as he could, dreading the day when his soulmate would reject him, just as he knew they always would.

***

“Hey, (Y/N), you’re coming to the Halloween party this weekend, right? It’s at the Sigma House.” Your roommate said, sitting across from you at the library. Her name was Lindsay and she was a pretty blonde girl majoring in criminal justice. She was going to be a lawyer someday, ala Elle Woods and wanted to do her best to make the world a better place.

“I don’t know about that.” You chuckled, shaking your head. “You remember what happened at their homecoming party, right? I’m not much of a party girl, apparently…”

“Oh nonsense, you learned your lesson. You’re still just…learning your limits, is all. Gotta build up that tolerance somehow.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, from right beside the toilet maybe.”

“What, like lightning’s gonna strike twice? It’s Halloween! It’ll be fun! Plus, where else are you gonna wear your cute lil’ costume? It’s not like we can go trick or treating anymore.”

“Valid point.” You shrugged and chewed on the end of your straw. “Fine. I’ll go.”

“YESSSSS! I’m texting Isabella. She’s bringing Leonardo.”

“Ah yes, the elusive Leonardo.” You took a sip from your iced coffee. “Supposedly he has three brothers that all go here too, but I swear I haven’t seen any of them except him the, what, two times we’ve met him.”

“I think he’s nice.”

“I think he’s nice too, but you’d think it would be easier to spot them out and about.” You chuckled. “Oh never mind, I spoke too soon.”

“Where.” Lindsay turned around, catching a glimpse of the large, hulking turtle walking into the library, side by side with a slightly smaller turtle carrying a skateboard.

“Don’t look too fast, oh my god.”

“Ooh. He’s…”

“Hot.”

“I was gonna say ‘big’ but yeah, that works too.” Lindsay giggled. “Oh my god, (Y/N), I didn’t know you were into that. You know, I saw that Ice Planet Barbarians book at the B&N in the mall if you—”

“Shut up!” You hit her playfully with the book you had sitting on the table.

The large turtle in the red flannel caught your eye and smirked, giving a little half-wave. You waved back, cheeks fully flushed from your conversation with Lindsay.

“Oh my god he just waved at you. Oh my god!”

“Shut upppp!” You rolled your eyes, sliding down your seat.

***

The Sigma Halloween Bash finally arrived and you slipped into your costume, Raven from Teen Titans, right down to the cape you’d spent the better part of a day sewing yourself.

You looked over yourself in the mirror. You looked hot, you admitted, admiring yourself in the costume. It was no wonder she was everyone’s first cartoon crush.

“You ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.” You turned around to face Isabella, who was dressed as Belle from Beauty and the Beast. “Aww, you look cute!”

“Thanks! It was Leo’s idea.”

“Speaking of whom…are the boys coming over here first or…?”

“They’re meeting us there. Lindsay told me you guys saw Raph, huh?”

“Oh yeah. Forgot about that.” Your cheeks reddened at the mere mention of his name. “Raph, huh?”

“Raphael. He’s…nice. I don’t think he likes me all that much, but Leo says he gets better once you get to know him.”

“One of those.” You nodded. “Good to know in case I run into him completely shitfaced. Try to make a good impression.”

“Good luck with that.” Isabella chuckled, ushering you downstairs so you and your other roommates would walk the few blocks to the party.

For Halloween, it was pretty warm outside with a nice breeze, costumed college kids marching down every sidewalk to find whatever party they were headed for. And, as usual, you were following the biggest stream of kids, straight into the Sigma house.

The music was deafening and the second you stepped inside, one of the drunk frat guys handed each of you a can of White Claw, which you grimaced at and handed to Lindsay, who took it with a smile. Instead, you set out in search of a Margarita, the one drink you knew you liked, thus far. Your search was successful. You poured yourself a glass of the sweet lime drink and found your roommates again.

“There she is!” Lindsay pulled you to her and spun you around as you sipped from your drink. “You find your Marg?”

“Always.”

“The boys are on the way.” Isabella reported, bobbing along to the music while reading from her phone. “Should be any—Oh, there they are! Leo!” She waded through the crowd, pushing her way to the giant turtle who was dressed in the Beast’s suit from Beauty and the Beast. That was cute.

Raph wandered into the kitchen and out of your sight, but not before you saw the large foam spikes taped to his shell. He was dressed as Bowser. That was really funny, actually.

The party continued and you had a second margarita. You were deciding on whether or not to grab a third and then decided to commit when you saw him still hanging around the kitchen.

So, tipsy as ever, you walked through the frat house to the kitchen and poured yourself yet another drink.

“Ayo Raven! You look good did you make that yourself?” asked the shortest of the turtles, although he still stood at least six feet tall.

“I did! Thank you so much! I loved the show as a kid.”

He grinned. “I did too. I’m Mikey, by the way. You’re Isabella’s roommate, right?”

“I am indeed. (Y/N).”

“Well, (Y/N), it’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too!” You beamed, scanning the kitchen. Huh, not sight of Raphael. You wondered where he’d gone. You thought for a moment and second-guessed your third margarita for the night, decided to get a glass of ice water instead.

When you walked back out to the other room, you found him alright, stumbling right into him and spilling your water all over him.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” You apologized, looking up at him. He stared back down at you, his eyes wide.

“It’s you? Yer…Wow, I just, uh…I…I didn’t think it would be you.” He stammered, reading through the words that had been etched onto your wrist since high school. You rolled up your sleeve, glancing down at them to be sure before looking back up at him, sobering up almost instantly.

“You’re my soulmate.” You whispered, starstruck in his presence.

“Let me get ya some more water, alright?” He offered, taking the empty solo cup from you, his giant hand gentler than you could have ever imagined it to be. “I’ll be right back.”

“O-Okay.” You nodded, still, for lack of better word, shell-shocked where you stood, the world crumbling around you until he finally came back with another cup of water.

He handed it to you and you were sure you were gonna drop that one, too, but you didn’t, miraculously, holding onto it for dear life. “You wanna get some air?”

“Yeah.” You nodded.

Tentatively, Raphael offered his hand to you in the crowded room. He didn’t expect you to take it. In no reality could he imagine this pretty girl dressed as a superhero to take his hand, but you did, slipping your hand into his and letting him lead you out into the backyard.

The sounds of the party faded away. There were a few people out on the deck making out, but the grass was wide open, the perfect spot to get away from all the noise in there.

You were both quiet for a while, your heart hammering in your chest as you sat down next to him. You took a long sip of water, chasing the edge of the margarita away.

“So uh…it’s okay if ya…uh…I shoulda practiced this.” He shook his head, letting out a pathetic chuckle. “I get it, I mean, if yer not…into me. I saw ya laughin’ at me at the library the other day.”

“Oh fuck, no I wasn’t I…kind of the opposite, actually.” You admitted, counting your blessings you had some liquid courage in your body for this conversation. “I’m Isabella’s roommate. Lindsay and I both are and I…I just kinda blurted out that you were hot and she…she was making fun of me, not you. I’d never make fun of you.”

“Wait, you…” He grinned, amused. “Yer not serious.”

“I am, I swear.” You laughed, pulling your cape around yourself. “I like your costume, by the way.”

“Heh. Yeah, thanks. Low effort costumes are kinda my forte.” He shrugged. “Mikey did the spikes for me. Was kinda hopin’ you’d show up dressed as Princess Peach, to be honest.”

“You still wanted me to be the Peach to your Bowser even when you thought I was making fun of you?” You asked, pouting up at him. “Raph…”

“I wouldn’t’a held it against ya even if you were.” He shrugged. “Hell, my own sister passed out the first time she met the four of us.”

“You have a sister?”

“Her name’s April. We ain’t blood, but we are family.” He smiled. “I’d like ta introduce her to ya someday. If ya want, of course. I’m…I ain’t ever done this before.”

“Well you’re doing great.”

“Ya don’t have to lie.” He nudged you playfully.

“I’m not.” You giggled, nudging him back. “You are doing great.”

“You still drunk?”

“Not much.”

“Mmm.”

“What?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Those margaritas might be clouding ya judgement, shorty.”

“They are not.” You giggled, reaching for his arm, which he gladly gave to you. You grabbed onto him, a little cold now that you’d been out there for a bit.

“If ya need me to warm ya up, I can’t. I’m cold-blooded.”

“Oh right. That’s okay.”

“Ya wanna go back inside?”

“No.” You shook your head. “I just wanna sit out here with you for a while.”

He smiled, withdrawing his arm and putting it around you instead. He rested his head against yours, letting out a long breath as you sat beneath the stars. “I like that plan.”

Tags: @thelaundrybitch, @turtle-babe83, @dilucsflame33, @happymoonangel, @leleouwu

#tmnt aged up #tmntagedup #bayverse #raph x reader #raphael #raphael x reader #raph #tmnt imagine #tmnt imagines

[andiwriteordie]

hey remember when i wrote a byler percy jackson au and said i had other little snippets i’d share eventually?

no? well, here are the links:

Part One - I Dream About My Best Friend

Part Two - I Have An Audience With the God of Love 

anyways, here’s the last one that’s been chilling on my google docs! who knows. i may go back and write some more (because literally there are so many percabeth scenes that i would love to write as byler) whenever i feel like it! or maybe i’ll just word vomit all my headcanons onto a google doc and share that with you if i get bored lol

this is based of the final scene of the titan’s curse, in case you were wondering :) 

___

The Gods Throw Us a Party

Mike feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

I do not approve of your friendship with my son, Athena had said, amongst a lot of other things that Mike can’t even begin to wrap his brain around. I do not think it is wise for either of you.

“Hey.” Will nudges him, and Mike flinches slightly, glancing over at his best friend. There’s a small, somewhat shy smile on his face. “You sure you’re okay?” 

Not really.

“Y-yeah, of course,” Mike says, forcing a smile. Will just raises a disbelieving eyebrow, and Mike rolls his eyes, nudging his best friend lightly. “I’m fine. Just… got a lot on my mind, I guess.”

“Surprising,” Will says dryly. “And here I thought all you had in your brain was seaweed.” 

“Asshole.” Mike nudges him sharply in the ribs, and Will just laughs, throwing his head back and smiling brightly. It’s enough to make Mike’s stomach do a little somersault, which is… definitely weird. “I don’t know how I even missed you.”

There’s a sparkle in Will’s eyes as he turns to Mike and just smiles. “You missed me?” he asks, voice soft.

A familiar sort of warmth fills Mike’s chest, and his stomach does that silly little somersault thing again. “Yeah,” he says softly, and he offers Will a small, shy smile. “‘Course I did.”

Mike doesn’t, of course, mention the fact that he was worried sick about Will—that the entire time Will was gone, he couldn’t stop thinking about him and couldn’t stop wondering if Will was okay and couldn’t stop trying to figure out ways to find Will. But then again, Mike gets the feeling that he doesn’t really need to say those things… After all, it’s Will.

And just like how Mike knows that he would do absolutely anything in the world to make sure that Will is okay and safe, he knows that Will would do the same for him.

I do not approve of your friendship with my son. I do not think it is wise for either of you. Athena’s words echo through Mike’s mind once more, and he forces himself not to think about them. If caring too much about his friends—about Will—is supposed to be a flaw, then… well, then, Mike doesn’t really give a damn. There are only so many things that he’s willing to give up in the world in the name of this stupid saving the world and being the child of the prophecy bullshit, and look… his friends and Will in particular aren’t one of them. 

Will just smiles back at him, his cheeks slightly red, and he bumps Mike’s shoulder gently. “Thanks for coming and finding me,” he whispers, as if there’s any world where Mike wouldn’t have searched for Will until he was found. As if there’s any world out there where Mike wouldn’t do everything humanly possible to make sure that Will is safe and home where he belongs with…

…with Mike.

I do not approve of your friendship with my son. 

There’s like a hundred different things that Mike wants to say to Will—things that he’s been wanting to say for… for a while now and things that he can’t even fully wrap his mind around. But Athena’s words just keep playing like a broken record on loop in Mike’s mind, and he feels like all of the courage has been sapped out of him.

There are so many different things he knows he should say to Will, and maybe… maybe someday, he will. 

“Of course,” Mike responds, and he leans in close to Will, smiling slightly. “I know you’d do the same before me.”

The look on Will’s face softens, and he nods, just standing there close to Mike. The room is still loud and full of energy, but somewhere above the noise, Mike hears the song change once again, going from some upbeat pop song that Dustin would probably like to one that’s a bit softer and slower.

“Hey,” Mike blurts out, before he can lose any more of his courage.

Will blinks, and his brow furrows. “Yeah?”

“I, um… I think I owe you a dance,” Mike says quickly. Heat rises to his cheeks, and fuck, okay, okay, he can do this. It’s just a dance, and it’s just Will. It’s just Will.

(For some reason, Mike has a little flashback to his conversation with Aphrodite, from just a couple days ago, and um… yeah. Yeah, there’s that.)

“It’s just, um… we got cut off at Westover Hall,” Mike adds, stammering over his words. “Before everything happened, you know? So, I… I just thought that maybe we could… I don’t know… um, I guess—”

“Mike,” Will laughs, and Mike stops, closing his mouth and mentally berating himself for how stupid he sounds. Still, there’s a twinkle in Will’s eyes and a smile on his face, and even though Mike knows he sounds like an idiot, Will still takes his hand. “A dance sounds nice.”

(Okay. Okay, great. Okay. He can do this. Mike can do this.)

“Cool,” Mike says, a bit breathlessly, and he smiles back at his best friend.

“Cool,” Will echoes as the two of them make their way out onto the dance floor. Just like before, Mike awkwardly puts his hands around Will’s waist, while Will puts his arms around Mike’s neck, and the two of them sway back and forth in time with the music. 

Neither of them say much, which is kind of nice. It feels like this moment is just for the two of them, and though Mike’s heart is pounding inside his chest, he forces himself to just breathe and to focus on this moment… to focus on Will.

Up close, Mike can really get a better look at his best friend. He’s bounced back fairly well—or as well as one can after being held hostage for about a week—but there are still bags under his eyes and a tiredness on his face that Mike’s sure won’t go away for a while. Likewise, there’s a cut on his forehead that’s still healing and a few bruises that are still fading on his face. 

Most noticeable, though, is the single gray streak through Will’s brown hair—the one that matches Mike’s own perfectly. Their twin, painful souvenirs from carrying Atlas’s burden.

“We match,” Will murmurs, as if he can somehow read Mike’s mind. He hesitates for a moment, then reaches up and gently touches Mike’s own gray streak. 

“Yeah,” Mike whispers back, and he gives Will another small, shy smile. “We do.”

Will just smiles in return, and he lowers his hand from Mike’s hair once more, swaying back and forth gently to the song. Neither one of them says anything else, but Mike doesn’t really think they need to. Somehow, he gets the feeling that both he and Will are on the same page, together in this moment.

And so, as the song continues to play, Mike just lets himself get lost in this moment. He sets aside everything else that’s on his mind—from the prophecy that lingers over his head, to whether Henry is still alive and still out there, to Athena’s warnings to him—and he just focuses on everything about this moment.

The warmth of the lights on his skin, filling Mike with a sense of security and comfort.

The sound of his friends’ laughter—Dustin, over there with some nymphs and Lucas and Max laughing together as they share their own slow dance.

The song, soft and slow and a bit hopeful, that Mike hears, and the words that he tries to commit to his memory: Just like the ocean pairs well with the sand, I go with you…

And everything about Will—from the soft nervousness of his smile, to the warmth radiating from him as he hugs Mike closer, to the sheer sense of familiarity that comes with being around Will, as if he’s just someone who has always been there with Mike and part of his life.

Somewhere, distantly, a thought crosses Mike’s mind, and though his cheeks go warm at just that thought, he doesn’t let himself dwell on it too much.

Right here, right now, this is enough.

#byler #byler au #byler ficlet #byler fic #byler pjo my beloved #i'll come back to you one of these days #because this was so fun #also that song is absolutely the one i headcanon as what percy and annabeth dance to in ttc #as always you know if you want more #i can be peer pressured into it #andi writes not dies

[kacatshi]

hiya! ive been around this block before under this same url, but deleted that account ages ago. i’ve recently fallen into a black hole of my old fandoms and found my old crankiplier & friends fanfic, so i decided to make a masterlist of it on here since i orphaned that ao3 account. these are all from 2017, yikes, so beware of old references. these are all short one shots.

also i’m not really planning to go back to taking requests/writing fanfic. maybe someday, who knows. i’m still getting back to mark and ethan’s content so there’s a lot i’ve missed lmao but if you’re into RPing and you’re not a minor lmk 👀

Perfect (Mark/Ethan) "Sometimes he remembered being the guy with a small channel whose connection to Mark was being the backflip guy, and when he got back to his present reality Ethan had to physically keep from laughing out of pure glee." Prompt: Crankiplier, first date.

You Make Me Happy When Skies Are Gray (Mark/Ethan) "You never know dear, how much I love you Please don't take my sunshine away." Prompt: College AU mixed with the song Baby It's Cold Outside but less rape-like (too good not to quote word for word).

Home (Mark/Ethan/Tyler) "Whatever he was oblivious to didn’t matter; he still felt like he was home." Prompt: Ethan comes out to Mark and Tyler and things go well, but not when he comes out to his parents.

Storm (Mark/Ethan/Tyler) "There was something about the sight of electricity ripping through the sky and the loud boom that followed that had always scared Ethan since he was a child."

Can You Hear Me? (Mark/Ethan) Prompt: Ethan has a panic attack and Mark comforts him.

Don’t Worry, Baby (Mark/Ethan) It's enough just to make me go crazy, crazy, crazy... ... To be young and in love.

You Can’t Escape Now (Mark/Ethan) Certain offers were hard to refuse if only the right mouth spoke them. Prompt: Dark/Ethan crushy angst.

Homesick (Mark/Ethan) After getting back home, Mark ordered Ethan’s favorite and put on a movie. Ethan instantly brightened up when he saw the opening credits to his favorite film, and his smile grew impossibly wider when dinner was delivered. Prompt: Mark cheers Ethan up.

One Cannot Love Alone (Mark/Ethan)  "Despite feeling like his life had only really gained meaning after the bolt of electric blue had found its way into it, Mark could do nothing but wish… Wait… Hope. One can’t love alone, after all, but it seemed Mark was on his own."

Woes of Bronchitis (Mark/Ethan/Amy) ... Or, the time when Mark got sick (again) and was forced to get some TLC. Prompt: Ethamyplier, fluffy sick fic.

Look At The Stars, Look How They Shine For You (Mark/Ethan) “Alright, I’ll take that bet,” Tyler had said that afternoon with a look of smugness and confidence that should have alarmed Ethan right of the bat, but it didn’t. He couldn’t believe those were the words that would seal his fate. “But if I win, you’re asking Mark out.” Prompt: Crankiplier first date.

White And Gold (With A Dash Of Blue) (Mark/Ethan) He got the chance to admire the way the golden light bounced off Ethan’s bare back, his pale skin looking borderline ethereal in the morning glow. A mess of electric blue created a stark contrast against the crisp while pillows, and Mark sincerely thought the color scheme of the scene was worthy of a painting. Prompt: Crankiplier having a nice, soft morning.

Who You Gonna Call? (Mark/Ethan) ... Not Ethan, probably. “I promise it’s not that scary in there,” Mark said quietly to him as they walked behind the rest of the crew, his voice low as if he was telling a secret. “I’m not scared,” Ethan argued for what felt like the millionth time. “This is just not what I signed up for. ”Prompt: Ghost hunters AU.

Fire And Ice (Mark/Ethan) Pyrokinesis, the psychic ability to manipulate and speed up the atomic state to the point of combustion. Cryokinesis, the psychic ability to manipulate and slow down the the atomic state to the freezing point. Prompt: Crankiplier Superhero AU.

Swing (Mark/Ethan) Ethan thought it was a but unfair, really. How was it so easy for someone to open up the way Mark did? It simply came up in conversation one day, seemingly out of nowhere, and next thing he knew Ethan was processing the information that Mark swung both ways. Or every possible way, as Mark had put it. Ethan got a strange, vivid image of Mark on a swing flailing out of control and being completely calm about it. Prompt: Ethan and Mark coming out to Teamiplier.

Not Quite Romeo And Juliet (Mark/Ethan)  "In Ethan’s wildest dreams they would both get leading roles in the cheesiest love story to ever grace the mediocre stage of their school and they would repeatedly kiss in rehearsal because the final product had to be just right." Prompt: High school AU where Mark and Ethan are the leads for a play and the characters hate each other but Mark and Ethan are in love.

Soft Spot (Mark/Ethan/Amy) On the first day, Ethan left the coffee shop a little dazed after the smile the pretty blonde flashed him. The next time he went there he left the place downright melting after the handsome brunet winked at him. Around the sixth or seventh time Amy drew a heart next to his name on his cup; when Ethan walked into the apartment his roommate stared long and hard at the cup and then just turned around and left. Prompt: ethamyplier coffee shop AU

Swaying (Mark/Ethan) “Slow dancing is the easiest thing to do. You’re just--- Swaying.”

Hold On To That Feeling (Mark/Ethan) Mark thought his head was going to explode this past week alone. He hadn’t gotten to a concrete conclusion either, which made it all that much more frustrating… Until tonight, when Ethan was leaning against the wall staring at his can of soda, looking bored out of his mind in this “party” that he’d only come to because Mark asked him to. Why had Mark asked him to? Oh, right. He wanted an excuse to be with Ethan outside of school. The conclusion presented itself to him. Fuck it, Mark thought, and that was about it. Or: Mark insists he's not gay. Until he's not insisting anymore. Writing prompt: (high school au) Ethan has had a crush on Mark for a really long time. He’s told Mark and Mark had insisted that’s he’s straight. One night it’s just Ethan and Mark driving around, and they end up getting food or something and then making out.

#crankiplier #ethamyplier #and whatever we called the mark/ethan/tyler one #fanfiction #masterlist #srsly if u into rping please hmu i'd love a mark to rp crankiplier with

[cleaning-has-its-benefits]

Lately I’ve thinking of a fic idea I had, which I wasn’t really sure I would actually write someday. I guess I would call it’s status as “unlikely I will write this” rather than “I’ll never write this.” But I felt like talking about it so heck it.

It would have been a pre-canon fic from Kel’s pov. It didn’t have a title and the summary would have been “Kel’s thoughts regarding hanahaki.” As you might guess, it was a hanahaki au, although the way hanahaki works would have differed from the standard. There’s probably a name for it but I’m not too knowledgeable in hanahaki variations.

Cw for emetophobia.

So, here hanahaki is a non-lethal sickness, but it’s severity varies greatly from person to person, depending on the exact cause. The cause can be related to unrequired love, but said love doesn’t necessarily have to be romantic, it can be platonic or familial too. But in general, the cause of hanahaki is bottled up or unresolved feelings, not necessarily about love. So here, all the group suffers from hanahaki to various degrees.

Well, since this was mostly a monologue, there wasn’t that much plot. But it would have taken place during recess at school. Kel there would think about how hanahaki is rather common among students his age, and he wonders about what could have happened to them to end up with hanahaki. Considering his own experience, he find saddening how widespread it is. It’s probably a normal occurrence to find bloody petals (or full flowers) in the bathroom. Maybe sometimes he looks at the lower grades and feels certain nostalgia for the time when he was little and didn’t have to grown accustomed to living with the sensation of petals in the lungs. Although it’s not like children are strangers to the sickness.

For as long as he’s known them, Aubrey and Basil have always suffered from hanahaki. Maybe this sickness is the reason why they both bonded before meting the others. It wouldn’t be until his teenage years when Kel would actually grasp the implications of that, and sometimes he wishes he could have been more understanding at the time. Now though, Basil avoids him (and everybody, really) like the plague and Aubrey doesn’t want to know anything about him, so Kel thinks he cannot do much.

There might or might not been a plot point regarding Kel’s hanahaki affecting his practice in basketball, due to it making it more difficult to breathe or causing pain during intense physical activity, but him not being deterred by it. However, I think I needed to do research to actually point how hanahaki is treated in the sports world, so this is mostly a loose idea there.

If this reads as somewhat messy is because this fic didn’t get beyond the brainstorming phase, so maybe I should stop trying to give some order, and I’ll admit I thought more about the world than Kel’s thoughts regarding it. So now I’ll mention how the main group is affected.

Starting with Kel, he has a mild severity. This means that in the current time he just coughs petals like once or twice per day, although at times they can be bloody. He contracted the sickness on the day of his 13th birthday, when it truly hit him all his friends had… left him? Kel’s hanahaki comes from this uncertain status of the friendgroup. They never officially end their friendship, they just sorta… stopped talking and spending time. This lack of closure and longing is the cause. Even if at first it was shocking and confusing for him, overtime it has gotten milder and milder (though in the beginning it was really distressing, specially because he didn’t really understand his very messy emotions.) It’s expected that with more time, Kel’s hanahaki will cure on it’s own, but he has hopes that one day it will cure when he’s reunited with his friends once again.

Hero’s hanahaki started sometime after he snapped at Kel. Before, it wasn’t anyone’s guess how he felt. He expressed pretty clearly how devastated he was, so he wasn’t ‘bottleing it up’ and thus I think it makes sense if he didn’t suffer from hanahaki during his long-year seclusion. After it, though, he threw himself into a lot of work to keep himself busy and not think much about it. He didn’t want to worry his family, so he became more closed-off and tried to solve his feelings on his own. His hanahaki would also be considered mild, but is more severe than Kel’s, but Hero hides it better. The main cause is the guilt, that he tries to work on his own, that he “should have” helped Mari. Maybe it could get cured if he accepted he was fifteen and he simply didn’t know, but that’s a really difficult thing for him. Though I think he also feels guilty for leaving the others on their own and not taking his role as the older brother of the group. I think in general he blames himself for a lot of things. After the talk at the tree-stump, his symptoms would lessen considerably. He maybe feels he’s finally doing what he should have done four years ago.

Aubrey’s hanahaki started at a young age, due to her familial problems. If this fic was from her point of view, I think it would have been really angsty, imagine if her parents made her hide her sickness to keep their reputation. That would be messed up! But anyways, in her teenage years, her hanahaki has gotten worse. The cause it’s still her family issues, which have only gotten worse, but there’s also her unresolved feelings regarding her former friends. She misses them, but she isn’t willing to admit it. There was a scene I had thought of, where Aubrey is at Kim’s mother’s house, throwing up in the bathroom in the middle of the night. She’s not alone, however, Kim is there to accompany and help her, like by keeping her hair out of the way and rubbing her back. Probably Aubrey has a bit internalized what her parents told her, to hide her sickness, so her letting someone her help is a sign of great trust.

Like Aubrey, Basil’s hanahaki started when he was small, due to his absent parents. Although since he had his grandmother, his sickness was milder than Aubrey’s, and maybe he was a bit more open about it than her, or at least his grandmother didn’t make him feel like it was something he had to be ashamed of. After Mari’s death, though, his hanahaki would become very severe. Hiding the secret implied hiding many things, but what made his sickness to worsen so much was the feeling of not being able to be honest with anyone. Basil couldn’t talk about what tormented him so much, because no one could know, and since no one knows what he went through, then no one can understand what he feels… except one person. Basil’s hanahaki would probably be the closest to the standard hanahaki. There was an scene of Basil that was to parallel Aubrey’s, where he throws up in his bathroom in the middle of the night, though in his case he’s alone and trying to keep quiet, to not wake up Polly or his grandmother. While Aubrey uses the sink (because the flowers would clog the toilet), Basil uses the bathtub, since there he has more space to throw up whole flowers, and also can lie down a bit. In the scene, he would be doing that, pressing the side of his face against the bathtub’s border and trying to rest a bit. There’s a flower stuck in his mouth but at first he’s too exhausted to do anything about it. After a while, though, he reaches for it and pulls out a flower with a stem as long as his arm, and roots the same size, then he places it with the rest of the bloody flowers in the bathtub. He looks at the mess, although I didn’t decide if he sobs at it or if he looks indifferent. Either way, he knows he has to clean that up before he can go to bed, but all he can think about is how tired he is and how much he wants to sleep.

Sunny’s hanahaki started after Mari’s death and out of everyone in the group it is the most severe, although this isn’t obvious at first glance. Sunny coughs up bloody petals while he sleeps, and with just that it would seem his case is a mild one. However, that just means all the flowers are stuck at his lungs, and he feels a lot of pain, constantly is out of breath and even little exercise can be dangerous for him. He doesn’t give himself many chances to let them out, though in moments of high stress, such as the phobia fights, are when the lid is lifted and sometimes he doesn’t even get to the bathroom before throwing up in a rather violent way. Sometimes this can happen in the middle of a battle, so it is really stressful for him. I was going to think about how hanahaki affects headspace when I remembered this was supposed to be a Kel-centric fic and thus I didn’t really have room for that. As for the cause of Sunny’s hanahaki… where to even begin! At least I guess in the true ending it would be cured? Or at least get way less severe?

I might have include how hanahaki had been treated/viewed historically and culturally, maybe leaning towards it being encouraged to be hidden, but I wasn’t really sure about this.

Going back to Kel, the fic would have ended with Cris and Jay calling Kel to hang out with them. Turns out the reason why Kel was at recess doing nothing for like 2-3k words is because he was waiting for them, so he goes with them rather joyfully. This fic’s tone was to be more bittersweet than angst, maybe with Kel being mostly nostalgic, so I though ending it on a happy note would help with it. Or idk.

I was really torn between taking this seriously (in the sense of making a finished fic of it) or not, so I was going back and forth between adding it to my list of wips or leaving it as just a fun idea to think about. But since I still have a lot of wips, then I was leaning more towards the second option. Writing it here is a way of registering it and so it doesn’t get lost in memory, which I was a bit sad about. So yeah.

I almost forgot to add, this was inspired by a post I read a long time ago but I can't find it :(

I'll link it here if I find it again.

#ideas that i'll never finish or even start

[thenexusofsouls]

Thor opened her eyes, any sign of emotion gone. “Aye, Mother, I understand perfectly.” As the princess, she needed to be strong emotionally. “Mother… why is love forbidden? I love you, Mother. Does that make me weak? If so, I am sorry, for I loved once and still do.” Thor winced, preparing for the worst. Would she be exiled? If so, Thor wanted to admit everything now. “The soldier, Basch… I love him.” ~ Thor

{ {i am the caretaker of souls} Wait... WAIT... Did you MEAN to create a crossover with two of my muses, or did you mean to write somebody else’s name there? Because... I know I always say that Basch is pretty married to his canon world and background, but... now I’m imagining Basch and Noah in Freya’s world, and I’m honestly here for it? Like... Take Landis and plop it into the world of Snow White / Winter’s War, and then have Freya conquer it when Basch and Noah are just boys. They start being trained as Huntsmen but maybe this time instead of Basch being the one to leave, Noah decides to leave. Maybe he doesn’t like Freya or he doesn’t see a future working for her. So Noah leaves and becomes part of Ravenna’s whole deal, maybe replacing Finn. Basch stays with Freya and replaces Eric (which is funny since I use CH as Basch’s live action FC anyway, haha). I’m just not sure why Basch would choose to stay with Freya. maybe he feels some kind of strange sense of loyalty to her? Maybe he senses some kind of fragility in her and feels hopeful that she’ll change someday? Or maybe he thinks that being forced to conquer other lands for her is a punishment for not being able to protect his parents and his own homeland? I can make this work, though, omg. But okay, like... is this a mutual thing between Thor and Basch, or does Thor only have a crush on him and hasn’t told him? Because I thought Thor was younger in this AU but I might be getting things mixed up. Not having actual threads I can refer back to and see what’s what really messes with my memory sometimes, haha. }

Freya couldn’t believe her ears, or maybe she just didn’t want to. “It is forbidden, because-!” she began, a rare instance in which she raised her voice, but she stopped short when Thor said she loved her... called her Mother again. Freya turned away, her back to Thor as she was stunned beyond words for a short while. She could not stay to Thor that she wished her to stop loving her, for that was not true. Likewise, she could not say that she loved Thor, even though that was true, because it broke the one law of her kingdom. A law punishable by death. But she could not impose that sentence upon Thor. Never.

But Thor didn’t stop there. She admitted to loving Basch, and the temperature of the room suddenly dropped another ten degrees. He was one of her best Huntsmen, if not the best. Freya had trusted him... but apparently she had been wrong. That explains it. I should have known that a man was behind her corruption. Men... are always the ruin of women. “It is... forbidden...” Freya started again, her voice now soft and gentle yet cold, “because it is dangerous. Love is a plague, a sickness which can take us all if we do not remain vigilant.” She turned to look at Thor, now fully in control of her emotions. “You must banish these thoughts of love, Thor. I’ll not tolerate them. I have done... too much for you to... see you ruin your life with love.”

With that, she spoke slowly and with icy precision. “Now... about Basch. What has he said to you? What has he done?” It was clear from her tone that she was furious with him already.

#muse: freya

[lubdubsworld]

Perfect Imperfections.

Jeon Jungkook x OC 

Genre : Arranged Marriage AU! Angst! Explicit Sexual Content. 

Rating : 21+ 

Warnings : Ableism , Chronic disability. OC has limited use of her left leg, Emotional infidelity? Mild Cheating ( nothing very physical.. a kiss or so ) 

Summary : Marrying Jungkook is a mistake. Falling in love with him? Definitely the worst exercise in masochism . 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[ This is nothing but me indulging my love for writing bad cliches. That is it. Its literally a fest of cliche k drama tropes] 

Chapter 1

After the accident, my life had become something of a stagnant pond. 

Everyday began much the same. 

The alarm, mild but not jarring. Not very shrill but definitely insistent, sweeping away any lingering traces of sleep. I blinked awake, cobwebs of exhaustion still marring my vision but a few deep breaths, a few more blinks and I was awake .

And now came the harder part.

Getting my legs to work. 

It never got better, despite the many years that I’d spent in physiotherapy. All it really did was stop it from getting worse. Or maybe I’d just gotten used to the pain at this point. 

Deep breaths helped. Sometimes. 

But not today. 

“Mrs Jeon?” The familiar voice made me jump a little. 

“Sana...” I said, relieved. “ Could you come over? Seems like I’m going to need some help today.” I laughed nervously, gripping the sheets harder.” Could you help me sit up?” 

The girl moved closer, feet nimble and quick and sure and i felt my throat clench in envy. I swallowed it down though, just the way I swallowed every bad thing that came my way. 

It had been eight years ago.

 A fall from a fifty feet ravine. Cuts and scrapes all over my body, abrasions all over my torso. And legs that had absolutely shattered on impact. Multiple fractures. Motor Nerve Damage on my left leg. 

The skin stitched together. The bones grew back. 

But the nerve damage stayed. 

I wasn’t completely helpless. I could walk with the brace. Slowly and with a mildly awkward gait but I could walk. Even better if I was using crutches. 

But it wasn’t something I could hide. 

People looked at me and that was the first thing that they noticed. 

The girl who couldn’t walk. 

I sat still, gripping the edge of the bed as Sana carefully grabbed the brace and helped me put it on. I watched as she carefully set the loops in place, fixed the velcro and finally helped set my toes in place. 

“Thank you.” i whispered and she nodded.

“Mr. Jeon left early. He said that he won’t be home tonight.” 

I smiled a little. 

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to be caught between us. It must make you feel uncomfortable.” I said . 

She looked surprised but quickly ducked her head

“No, Mrs. Jeon.” 

I sighed.

“You may leave. I’ll come down soon.” I said quietly. 

How handsome he looked, in that beautiful dark suit. How strong and handsome and ...whole. 

Right next to a framed article about us from a magazine.

Jungkook ran  marathons and trained as a boxer. He worked as the managing director at a steel manufacturing unit . Spent his days overseeing workers in the smelting units, and everyone knew that it wasn’t uncommon to see the Jeon heir, shirtless and sweaty and covered in dirt and getting down and dirty with all the other workers as the ore got delivered. 

Someone like that... Someone that perfect.... Deserved a woman who would be an equal. Beautiful and graceful and perfect. And he had had her. My sister. For three years, I’d watched my sister and Jungkook be the perfect couple . Deeply in love and so happy. 

I watched her leave, gently closing the door behind her, before shifting my gaze to the large  portrait on the opposite side of the wall. It was a picture of my husband and I taken on the day we got betrothed. 

What they hadn’t counted on was how greedy our parents could be. 

Jungkook was the younger son. And his father had long written him off as unreliable. He was wild and headstrong. Had his own ideals and morals. Wouldn’t really bend to his father’s will. So his brother was the one who would be set to inherit the company. 

And my father , with his billion dollar empire wasn’t going to give away his precious daughter and all of her inheritance to a paltry second son. 

Jungkook’s brother had married my sister. And Jungkook had been forced to marry me. A comedy of errors , except it wasn’t really funny and no one was laughing. 

I swallowed. That was seven months ago. The first few weeks had gone in stony silence and hushed whispers. I knew he was talking to my sister. Knew she was sobbing in despair on the other end. My sister and I had never gotten along. And now, she had a genuine reason to despise me. 

Three months into marriage he had a small accident at the Manufacturing Unit.A small fall, not that far. Ten feet or so, but he’d crashed into a steel structure on his way down. He had a dislocated shoulder and some flesh wounds. Not that bad. 

But my entire body had gone ice cold at the news, when i first heard it. 

It was a brutal sort of realization. 

That perhaps I wasn’t as indifferent to him as he was to me. Six weeks, with him had changed things. He didn’t talk much, other than the bare minimum but I didn’t hold it against him. I helped him anyway I could. Typed out emails for him. Helped him eat and change. 

Hands brushing and time spent together meant tension. And a shift in the way he looked at me, sometimes. I noticed, wasn’t sure if I could act on it. But he was still my husband. And I didn’t really want to spend the rest of my life celibate. 

So, even though it was so unlike me... I’d made the first move. Linked my fingers with his. Brushed my lips across his. A gesture that meant a hundred things. A touch that invited more. And he must’ve wanted it, at least physically. Because he indulged me. Gave me a glimpse of heaven on his bed. 

And yet, six weeks of being as close as two humans could be didn’t change much.  

We were strangers who slept together. Who appeared in public together. Who did everything our family expected of us. And I wasn’t sure how to bridge that awkward gap between us. Jungkook was a fiercely physical person. His free time was spent in the gym , or cycling or hiking. 

I couldn’t walk across the room without having to grip the walls for support every few minutes.                                                              

Could anyone blame him for being bitter? For being distant? For not knowing what to do with me? 

And in all this time , I’d only learnt a handful of things about my husband. How he felt on top of me. How he sounded when he came, how he looked eyebrows furrowed as he talked into his phone  and of course, how little he cared about me. 

Yes, we would have sex. Yes, he bought me a couple of gifts when he was overseas. But otherwise his heart belonged to my sister. It wasn’t something he hid. 

As the days passed, I realized that it was time to keep myself safe. That I couldn’t show him all of me anymore. He was careful with me, guarded and secretive because he was smart. He didn’t want me to know anything about him. 

There was a reason. There had to be. 

So the best thing to do would be to do the same. Build that distance between us. This was going to crash and burn someday and I had to 

And the past few weeks, he’d been busy with more deals. Some kind of MoU with some supplier had gone south and they were looking for different suppliers. Jungkook was busy. I hadn’t seen him in ten days. 

And now apparently he had come home and left without so much as seeing me. 

Sighing, I moved to the garden, walking slowly to the marble bench set under the large sweetgum tree. I settled down , sighing. I ran a palm over my belly, soft and hesitant. 

I was two and half months along. It didn’t show...thanks to the oversized clothes I wore. But it wasn’t the kind of thing you could hide forever. I wasn��t sure why I started hiding it in the first place. It was just that.... I knew that no one would be happy for me. My family would be ecstatic but for the wrong reasons.

I could already imagine .

 Finally. Now he can’t leave you. 

I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of it. At the thought of someone talking about my baby like some sort of handcuff to lock Jungkook in. 

I would have to tell him. Of course. But I didn’t know when or how . I didn’t want to hide it from him. There was no point. But ... I wasn’t quite sure i wanted to see that look of helpless disappointment in his face. 

The sound of his car drew me out of my reverie and I startled, glancing over at the wide driveway. I glanced at the time . It was a little past eleven in the morning. What was he doing here? 

“Leah! Get inside!” Jungkook’s voice rang out and I jumped. 

“Jungkook?” I stared as he all but jumped out of the car rushing to me. 

“Come on.. get up.”

“What’s going on..?” I asked, heart pounding as he gripped my elbow, drawing me into his arms. 

“Dad fucked up. Got mixed with some shady bastards and apparently, they’ve put a hit out on me and hyung.”

My heart dropped.

“What?!!” I choked out, stunned. “ Jungkook...” My fingers curled over his chest, clutching the 

“Don’t worry... we know who it is and we have guys of our own. They’ll take care of it. No one comes for a Jeon and lives to tell the tale. I just wanted to make sure you stayed in. Don’t go anywhere. there are guards all over the place. but i want you to stay home. Okay? Just till this blows over?” 

I flinched, legs aching fierce as he led me up the stairs and he stared at me, eyes dripping with worry. The look was so foreign....so unlike the indifference I was used to that I could only stare. 

“Are you alright?” He asked urgently and I nodded quickly, hands curving over my stomach instinctively. 

“You’ll stay here right? With me...?” I asked softly and Jungkook hesitated. 

“I... I need to go check on Lisa.” He said stiltedly and I froze at my sister’s name.

“She’s with her husband, right?” I asked sharply, anger building out of pure fear. “ Why do you-”

“Don’t question me. Go in. Now.” He said quickly and I frowned. 

“You don’t have to go there. She has a husband of her own.” I said quietly, voice shaking. 

“I have to. I... I have to just go make sure she’s alright.” He snapped angrily and I curled my fingers into fists. 

Apparently, even when there was a very real threat to our lives, he would rather risk my life and his than let go of his obsession for my sister. i wanted to vomit. My skin felt clammy and my heart raced. I imagined him doing this when we had a kid....risking our child because he can’t stop thinking of her.... And he would do it..... Of course he would. 

“Then go.” i snapped, tears filling my eyes .  I yanked my arm out of his, stumbling a bit.

Jungkook looked shocked. 

“Leah...” He reached for me but I pulled back and away. 

“Go to her and don’t you dare come back here.” I screamed. Jungkook stiffened. 

“Leah... enough.”

“You’re right. I’ve had enough . Of your dirty pining. Of you. She’s married for god’s sake. To your brother. They’re together. Its over and done with. Why can’t you just accept it and move on?!!” I choked out. My chest hurt. 

“You knew I loved her when you married me.” He snapped back and I laughed in disbelief.

“Yes. And you knew I’d break someday. That I’d someday have enough of you treating me like I was disposable. Isn’t that why you kept at it for so long? You wanted me to be the one break things off right? So you could get out of your father’s anger...unscathed. Well, guess what. You got your wish.... I’m done!! “ 

He didn’t reply.

“Go inside. I have to go.” He said softly. 

I watched as he turned on his heel and stalked back down the driveway. 

Was it supposed to hurt this bad? My heart felt a bit like it was cleaving in two. Had I really just told him I had enough? What did that mean? Was I going to leave him? I felt my head spin , worry and fear laced with disbelief.

 Someone was out to kill him? How could he be so flippant about it? 

I shook my head. The Jeon’s were  a weird bunch. Although they were one of the richest families in our society, they lacked any of the charming social graces that came with it. For years, everyone had kept them at arm’s length because while all other families had aristocratic roots and beginnings, the Jeon’s came from a background of mining iron ore and making steel : a rugged and dirty business.

The only reason my father had agreed to 

And was I really going to leave him? where did I even begin? I couldn’t leave. I had no home to go to. My parents would take one look at me and send me back to Jungkook. I felt like a prize fool. I was stuck here. For eternity. That was all there was to it. 

A decade ago, I’d had a future. But that evening on that mountain trail had changed my life forever. I was , for all intents and purposes disabled. I couldn’t just walk out of here and build a life for myself. I wouldn’t last a day. 

I dragged myself to the living space, stopping when i saw how deserted the place looked. 

There were usually people bustling about. Especially so close to lunch. 

“Sana!!!” I called out, only to be met with the echoing silence of my own voice. And then a few seconds later she appeared , 

“Mrs. Jeon.... Is Mr. Jeon here?”

“He just left... Is everything okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Where is everyone? Are all of you busy?” I asked nervously. 

She bowed. “ Yes, ma’am.... The rest of us are cleaning out the pantry and Cook’s in the kitchen. Seul and Leejin are out in the backyard cleaning the statues near the koi pond. Mr. Jeon’s asked all the footmen and guards to stay around the perimeter. Will you need anything else?

“No... I’ll just rest till lunch.” I said gently, waving her off.

She left. 

The eerie silence that followed told me there was nothing to do but embrace the loneliness and I hesitated, moving slowly to the window and peering out. I couldn’t see any of the guards either. 

My fingers shook a little as I moved slowly to the entryway that led into the dining space. It was dark in here, the light from outside only illuminating the west wall which had large windows set in. I moved to the windows and stared out into the Jeon estate. 

Although Jungkook was the younger brother, he had been taxed with maintaining and caring for the family estate. Not because his father trusted him but because the old man knew just how much Jungkook hated the place. 

I played with my wedding ring as i remembered the countless times I’d watched the two of them fight, Jungkook coldly still while his father hurled abuses at him. Jeon Jaesook considered his son to be incompetent and disobedient, which made little to no sense to me. 

As far as i knew Jungkook had helped increase production and had cut down operating costs significantly over the seven years that he’d been working as the managing Director at Jeon Steelworks.

But it was obvious the old man favored Jihyun, Jungkook’s older brother. Jihyun worked in the air conditioned offices located in Gangnam, the CEO taking care of all their sales and marketing while Jungkook , who had an actual degree in Business spent his days slaving away at the smelting Units, a job that was physically and mentally exhausting. 

And while it always made my stomach twist, this unfair treatment he got subjected to, there wasn’t much i could do. My father had made it clear that he wouldn’t agree to the investment, unless both his daughters married the Jeon brothers. And Jungkook’s father had made it clear that if Jungkook didn’t agree , he would be out on the streets without a penny to his name. 

My leg began aching and I turned back around ready to go settle into my workroom where I usually worked on my writing when I heard his footsteps. I glanced up, frowning. 

Jungkook stood in the doorway staring at me with an unreadable expression on his face. 

I stared at him for a few seconds, waiting for him to say something. 

When he didn’t, I sighed.

“Did you think I was going to leave?” I asked bitterly.

He sighed. 

“I’m not going to cheat on you. “

I nodded.

“I suppose you want me to thank you for that?” I shook my head. “ You don’t have to keep your worthless vows. Go sleep with her. Why would it make a difference to me?” 

He exhaled sharply. 

“I thought you understood.” He said sharply.

“I did. I do.” I said curtly “ I understand that my parents screwed the two of you over. I understand that you had to do something you absolutely did not want to. But there’s something you need to understand too. Just because I’ve accepted this, it doesn’t mean I enjoy it. It doesn’t mean I have to be happy about my husband being in love with another woman, much less my own sister.” 

Jungkook nodded. 

“Right. Got it. “ He said curtly and I flinched when another muscle twitch told me I’d been standing for too long. 

“I’m going to go lay down.”

“Do you need me to get you a heating pad? For the leg? Or send one of the girls to massage your legs?” He asked softly, stepping closer and lightly gripping my elbow when my knees buckled. 

I didn’t have much choice than to grip his forearm, because the pain was intensifying from pins and needles to proper muscle spasms. Sweat began to bead on my upper lip and i felt just a little faint. 

“Yes. “ I said , feeling pathetic. I should have used the crutches. It had been a bad day even when I woke up. I should have sensed it and taken the proper measures.

“Leah... Should I run a warm bath for you? “ Jungkook's lips brushed my ear when he leaned to hold my weight up and i stiffened. 

“That won’t be necessary. I just need help back up to the bed, thank you.” I said shortly. He looked uncertain and shook his head. 

“ okay, but I’ll get Sana to run you a warm bath and make you some willowbark Tea.” He said quietly, and when I stumbled a bit on the first step he swore. 

“This isn’t going to work.... Come here.” He said gruffly and before I could protest he bent low, gripping the back of my knees and pulling me up into his arms.

i swallowed, head spinning as I cradled the curve of my lower belly. 

 Tell him... Tell him... Tell him...

 I felt my head throb as I kept my arms wrapped tight around his shoulders. 

“I’m pregnant .” i blurted out. 

Jungkook stumbled , nearly sending the both of us tumbling down the flight of stairs and i clung to him in terror. Okay, maybe the timing could have been better.

“What?” He looked ashen. Like he’d seen an actual ghost. 

“Just thought you should know.” I muttered under my breath. 

We reached the landing and he didn’t say anything, looking away from me, his jaw taut and lips set in a  thin line. I felt my throat go sandpaper dry. He waited till we were safely in the confines of our bedroom, placing me down on the bed gently and moving to close the door and lock it. 

I stared up at the ceiling, refusing to look at his face. 

“ Leah-”

“Its fine. You don’t have to say anything. I didn’t know till a week ago myself.” 

Silence. 

“Have you told your parents?” 

I exhaled sharply.

“No.” 

“Mine?”

“No...”

“Then would you consider.... “ He trailed off and i finally stared at him. 

“No.” I said softly. 

He sighed. 

“Alright. Should  I book an appointment with Dr. Lee?” 

I laughed. 

“How very practical of you..” i said. 

“What else do you expect from me..”

“Not even an ounce of support, that’s for sure.” I snapped and he growled.

“You want me to lie? Fine.. I’m happy!! So fucking happy that we’re bringing an innocent kid into our fucked up family. ” He shouted.

 This was why I didn’t want to tell him, I thought bitterly. 

“You’re the only one who’s fucked up, Jungkook. I’m perfectly fine with myself and my choices. I can give my baby all the stability they might ever need.”

“ That’s not hat I'm talking about. do you know what its like to grow up with parents who can’t stand each other?” Jungkook shouted. 

I gaped at him. Can’t stand each other? Is that how he saw us? 

“As long as you don’t walk out on us, we’ll be fine.” I muttered despondently. 

“ Don’t worry about that. I’m not going to run away from my responsibilities. ” He said quietly.

I finally turned to look at him, placing both my hands on my stomach.

“Do you want me to leave you?” I asked honestly.” Have you ever thought about it?” 

He didn’t say anything.

“So you have.” I smiled sadly. It wasn’t surprising but it did hurt. 

“Of course I have. You’re Lisa’s sister and Lisa is my... “ He paused, shaking his head, “ But, I know you can’t. I don’t expect you to either.” He said gruffly, grabbing the intercom.

I watched as he called the housekeeper, firing off instruction for Sana and then to the cook to send some tea for me. He hung up and turned to me again.

“Lisa and I are going to go to Japan for a week. She has a conference there and I’m going to scout for locations just in case we open up a distribution office there.” 

I turned away. 

“ You don’t have to tell me all that. You didn’t before, i don’t want you to start now.” I said firmly. 

He didn’t reply and i turned back to stare at the ceiling. 

Jungkook hovered for a few seconds before moving closer to the bed and grabbing the comforter and a couple of pillows. I felt a lump in my throat as he carefully picked my leg up, placing the pillows underneath. i was almost numb from the thigh down. 

i closed my eyes as he carefully pulled the comforter over my waist, folding it over my chest. 

“Rest well.” He said quietly before walking away. i heard the door opening and then closing. 

i waited till I heard his footsteps fades away before opening my eyes and staring at the ceiling. 

I should probably put some paintings up there, I thought. 

Author’s Note : This entire fic can be summed up as me not having any self control. 

#jungkook arranged marriage #bts arranged marriage #bts fic #bts arranged marriage fic #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkok fanfics #bts famnfics #bts fanfics

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Cult Girl (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 7

Sorry this took so long y'all. This chapter was difficult to write. Hannibal invites Theresa for dinner and y/n finally confronts her.

Trigger warning: mentions of suicide, child sex abuse; graphic descriptions of violence; confronting an abuser; body-shaming

The stitches in your cut hadn't even dissolved before Theresa intruded on your life again. Before you stormed out, Hannibal did in fact invite her to dinner. Polite society would rule the invitation null and void after that confrontation, but Theresa felt herself exempt from the laws of politeness. Like Evangelicals or craisins, Theresa loved to insert herself where she was clearly not wanted.

Of course, you were peeved at Hannibal for upholding the invitation when she called. But you could tell he had something planned. He was intrigued by her audacity and wanted to see how far it would take her. You couldn't begrudge him professional curiosity, as you too wondered what the fuck her problem was.

In truth, you saw what he did to your grandma, and you wanted to see him do it to Theresa. You wanted her subject to the same psychological torment that she put you through. And that, you realized, was why he honored that invitation. He wanted to vindicate you. And that was the sexiest damn thing you could possibly imagine.

Theresa showed up alone. That was her first mistake.

"Thank you for having me, Dr. Lecter." Theresa greeted, shedding her long coat and dropping it to the ground. "Will [F/N] be joining us?"

"[F/N] will most certainly be joining us." Hannibal said, his voice hardening. He noticed her coat in a pile on the floor and something in his head clicked.

"I hope I'm not overdressed." Theresa tossed her hair over her shoulders. 

She was. And you knew even before she showed up that she'd wear that green evening dress with the plunging neckline. It was the same one she wore to prom. She kept it as a memento all these years to memorialize the day she completely fucked you over. 

She was here to make history repeat itself. 

"Not all, Ms. [L/N]," Hannibal grinned, glancing at the staircase. "[F/N] is just touching up her makeup.”

“That sounds like [F/N].” Theresa laughed. “She always took the most time getting ready in the morning. And she was always the ugliest. It was quite sad, really.”  

Hannibal reminded himself what he had in store for Theresa before letting himself get angry. “If you could join me in the kitchen, I could use a little help with the appetizers.” 

Theresa took the bait and followed him through the threshold into the massive kitchen. 

“Could I trouble you for some psychological advice, Doctor Lecter?” She said, leaning against the island.

“That depends.” He answered, though the tone of his voice connoted a firm ‘no’. “Are you going to be honest with me?” 

Theresa mounted herself on top of the island and crossed her legs. “I’ve just been having quite a bit of trouble in my marriage.”

"Please get off my counter." Hannibal politely demanded. "I just sterilized it this morning."

“My husband just isn’t so excited by me anymore.” She pouted like a child. “He just doesn’t seem interested in... well, any of the things I have to offer him.” 

“Have you considered the possibility that you have nothing to offer?” You said. You approached them with purpose, the skirt of your purple dress fluttering behind you. Your favorite pair of strappy heels clacked against the tile and echoed through the room with every step. 

“[F/N] makes a valid point.” Hannibal agreed, taking you under his arm. “You’re an abusive narcissist, a serial adulterer, and you’re quite horrible at flirting. I certainly don’t understand what you could possibly have to offer.” 

“Nice to see you again, [F/N].” Theresa said, resigned to her defeat. “I didn’t want to say anything at the wedding, but you look like you’ve gained a few pounds.” 

You almost laughed. Growing up, Grandma had subjected you to every form of body-shaming known to man. Nothing Theresa could say would have any effect on you. 

“Really? Because I’ve never felt better in my life.” You smiled, knowing it to be true. “Hannibal is an amazing cook. You’d probably gain weight too if you were eating so well.” 

"Well, I have appearances to keep up." She refuted. "Gideon and I both have very busy schedules. Besides, he finds the kitchen more of a woman's domain."

"Unfortunate for you." Hannibal threw a dish towel over his shoulder and picked up a wine bottle by the neck. He kept his hands busy by pouring three glasses of wine. "That Gideon does not put in the time to keep you well-fed and fulfilled. Might I suggest not molesting children as a remedy?"

You snickered as he handed you a glass. You migrated to the dining table, where the trial was set to take place.

"Did you invite me here just to gang up on me?" Theresa leaned back in her chair. "Because if so, that's really mature."

"Of course not." You said, Hannibal pulling your chair out for you. You placed your napkin in your lap. "Well, maybe a little."

Theresa took a long sip of wine. "You're not going to get an apology if that's what you're after."

"Oh no." You shook your head. "I've stopped expecting basic human decency from you years ago."

"Good." Theresa huffed. "Since that's clearly what you want me to be, that's what I'll be."

"Don't give me that shit." You sighed. "I know what gaslighting is and you're not as good at it as you think."

"Y'know I never asked to be a parent figure to you and Anna." She crossed her arms.

"You may not have asked for it but you sure as hell enjoyed it." You countered, furrowing your brow. "Don't act like you weren't the dictator's right-hand man. You sucked up to grandma and always got preferential treatment."

"I was a kid." She shrugged. "You're really gonna blame me for the shit I did before my skull fully hardened?"

"Well, it exposes a way larger pattern of behavior." You explained. "You're a megalomaniac that wants power without responsibility. So you attach yourself to someone with power, probably another narcissist who's too self-involved to see what a leech you really are. It's what you did with grandma and it's what you're doing with Gideon."

Dressing Theresa down like that gave you a rush. It made you feel alive. But more importantly, it made her look small. It stripped her of her power.

"Well done, Sherlock." Theresa taunted. "But you're forgetting one thing. If I were a megalomaniac, why would I waste my time beating up on you? Some nobody with no power to speak of?"

"Because I'm a living reminder of your past." You narrowed your eyes. "I remind you that you can't just beat everyone into submission."

"Ladies," Hannibal interrupted, holding three bowls. He placed one in front of you, the savory broth enticing your nose. "This is pot-au-feu. It is a simple French stew made from beef, vegetables and potatoes. I added a marrow-bone for extra richness. It's the perfect combination of simplicity and substance."

You couldn't even wait for Hannibal to sit down. You'd been so hungry all day. Smelling the meat slowly braise over the course of the day was torturous. You went straight for the marrow, which was a recent favorite of yours.

Theresa picked the bone up between two fingers and dropped it onto the table, her face wrapped with disgust. "I think I'll pass. I'm not a dog."

"You are not." Hannibal said, spearing a piece of meat on his fork. "I find dogs much better company."

Theresa tented her fingers and glared at Hannibal. "So you're just going to let her rip into me? Aren't you supposed to be the professional here?"

"Don't discount [F/N]'s analysis just because she is a student." Hannibal glared back at her. "From what I know about you, she's dead on."

"Isn't this entire interaction a professional conflict of interest?" Theresa folded her arms. "I don't trust her to analyze me because she hates me."

Hannibal put his utensils down. Anger flashed across his face. "I don't think you quite understand what this interaction is. You are not owed an unbiased psychological profile, especially not from me. You are not my patient. You are [F/N]'s abuser."

Theresa narrowed her eyes and leaned over the table. "So if you understand that, why am I here?"

"You think very highly of your intelligence, Theresa." Hannibal glanced down at his dish. "Perhaps you can figure that one out yourself."

You coughed, narrowly avoiding choking on your food.

"Darling, please pace yourself." Hannibal instructed, though he seemed pleased with how enthusiastically you inhaled your meal. "You're going to make yourself sick if you eat too fast."

"I'm sorry." You said after taking a long sip of water. "I don't know why, I'm just so hungry today."

Hannibal dropped his eyebrows, looking worried. "Did you take your medicine this morning?"

"I think so." You nodded.

Theresa smiled and reached for her phone. The movement caught Hannibal's attention, and he could tell what she was up to right away.

"Theresa, it's very rude to text at the dinner table." He scolded, taking a sip of wine. "Surely, anything you're saying to your grandmother and Anna, you can say to us."

Theresa, too proud to back down, slipped her phone into her purse and met your eyes. "You're pregnant."

"Brilliant fucking deductive reasoning." You rolled your eyes. "A woman gains a little weight and has a healthy appetite? That's the only logical conclusion I would draw."

"Well, aren’t we defensive?" Theresa taunted. "Congratulations, by the way."

"Theresa, stop it." You gritted your teeth, trying not to convey how pissed you were.

"You're going to need to drop out of school to take care of the baby full time." Theresa sneered.

You knew exactly where she was taking this and you wanted more than anything to just disappear. You reached for the wine bottle and refilled your glass. "Shut up, Theresa. Shut the fuck up before you say something you'll regret."

Her face lit up from the satisfaction of finally making you angry. "And someday you'll blow your brains out just like your mother!"

This time, she would regret it. You chucked the empty wine bottle across the table. It hit her directly in the face with a deafening crunch before ricocheting off the table and shattering on the ground.

Theresa brought her finger to her nose, noticing the stream of blood trickling from her nostril. She stood up, stabilizing herself with the back of the chair.

"I didn't think you had it in you." She jabbed before collapsing to the ground.

You went silent, too afraid to look at Hannibal.

"For what it's worth, darling." Hannibal piped up. "I always knew that you did."

#hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #hannibal lecter #hannibal x you #tw violence #tw blood #cult girl #tw csa mention #tw suidice

[earlgreytea68]

Tagged by @setting-in-a-honeymoon​!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

An even 200!

2. What’s your total AO3 wordcount?

Um. 3,328,002

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Six:

Inception in the lead with 67 fics

Sherlock with 56

Fall Out Boy with 36

Doctor Who with 14 (this number is incorrect, I have written waaaaay more than that, they just live on LJ and DW)

and then one each for Sports Night and The Office (UK)

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Nature and Nurture

Saving Sherlock Holmes

Working on the Edges

The Radovljica Apicultural Museum

John Watson’s Twelve Days of Christmas

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

I try to! Sometimes I get busy or depressed or sick, etc., and I fall behind, but I try to respond, for a number of reasons - they give me so much joy that I want to acknowledge that they have brought my joy; it is so wonderful to see what people to respond to and love and laugh at and cry over, it definitely makes me a better writer, and so I want to acknowledge that, too; and comments when I’m in the middle of posting a fic are especially helpful to me because they often result in me tweaking what’s coming next in response to questions I see people have that indicate I’m not being clear enough, or maybe I’m not hitting the tone I want, etc. And so I like to respond to be like, “Thank you! You have no idea how important and wonderful this is to me!”

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Oh, wow. While I actually think I can write good angst, when I do it I try to have it in the middle of the fic, so that it gets properly resolved to give you a nice, happy ending. I’m sure someone’s going to be like, YOU ARE FORGETTING THIS HEART-WRENCHING THING YOU WROTE, but all I’m coming up with right now is that, in my long Doctor Who ‘verse I wrote, I did a fic in which their family dog died. That was pretty angsty. (omg I just scrolled down to see how I ended this story and OH MY GOD ahahah I forgot that I wrote this after I’d broken up with the Tenth Doctor and so it ends with Brem being like, “Plus, my father is useless so I have to hold the entire family together all the time” hahahaha what an extra-angsty ending, Brem, my love lol)

7. Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I do sometimes! I feel like most of my crossovers make some amount of sense. Like, okay, maybe you wouldn’t think to cross Inception with Fall Out Boy (this was a special request) but I think the premise of the fic makes total sense. And I once crossed Oliver with Brem, but those were my first two beloved precocious fic songs, so that made some sense, too. And I still think Inception and Sherlock crossed together made SO much more sense than actual seasons of Sherlock lol. So I guess if I had to choose the craziest I would go with the Doctor Who/Gossip Girl crossover I wrote lol. But wait, that one actually also made sense as I wrote it, I think, so I’ll go with the Sherlock/Fall Out Boy crossover because that was just bonkers.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes. I wrote a fic that was really horrible to Mary in “Sherlock.” I hate Mary. I feel like I can say that now. I haaaaaated Mary. But in those days “Sherlock” was an incredibly tense fandom to be part of and if you didn’t say that you loved Mary all the time forever and always then people were like !7@((!*(@(!& at you. I have a million massive warnings in all caps all over the fic, like, DON’T READ THIS IF YOU LIKE MARY, and people still would leave rude comments on it lololol. And then we wonder why I left that fandom lol. (I mean, many people in the fandom were wonderful, and I don’t always have REASONS why I leave fandoms, it’s not like anything is that logical or rational. But it wasn’t a very fun time to be in Sherlock fandom. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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

I do. My smut almost always has to be advancing some kind of emotional beat in the characters’ relationship. I’m never super-explicit because usually the whole point of the scene to me is what the characters are thinking and feeling, not really what they’re *doing.*

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Sometimes my fics show up somewhere without my knowledge. People are really good about letting me know when that happens.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yup!

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

Yes!

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

This is like asking who my all-time favorite child is.

14. What’s a wip that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I have this high school Peterick AU that I started at the beginning of the pandemic. For some reason, when schools shut down, all I could think about was all these bands that wouldn’t get formed because the kids couldn’t go to each other’s houses, like Pete Wentz couldn’t just show up at Patrick Stump’s to hear him play. So I started this story where Pete and Patrick meet right before the pandemic hits, and then everything locks down and they’re stuck Facetiming each other and coming to the realization that their soulmate is on the other side of the screen.

Anyway, I actually think this fic is super-hot?? And I never think I write hot things, but it’s got a hot phone sex scene and I’m really happy with it and I would love to finish the story...except that the pandemic turned out to be...this. And in my head, Idk, I thought there’d be this triumphant moment where everyone would be like, “Yay! We can see each other now!” and Pete and Patrick would reunite, and instead everything petered out into, “Can we see each other now........????? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ “ and I didn’t know what to do with that in my fic, it made it not as neat as I was wanting it to be.

But I hate to lose that hot phone sex scene hahaha. And also after the hot phone sex scene Patrick adds “Hotline Bling” to his and Pete’s shared Spotify playlist they’ve been working on and I’M SORRY, I FOUND THAT SO CHARMING, PATRICK STOLE MY HEART WITH THAT MOVE, anyway, as you can see, I love so much about the fic and I really want to find a way to make it work and maybe someday I will the end.

15. What are your writing strengths?

My dialogue.

Also I think I write the same story over and over (person realizes that they’re deserving of being loved for exactly who they are), but I think I’m REALLY GOOD at that one story lol

Also I like to think that I write family relationship stuff fairly well, like, Idk, I love doing that stuff, whether found family or biological.

Oh, and I think I usually get the ratio of angst::happy ending pretty good (in my view for my personal preference lol).

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

I don’t think I’m especially good at smut. I’m terrible at paying attention to things like setting, what the characters are wearing, what the characters even look like, etc. As mentioned above, I tell the same story over and over and over, and I’m okay with that, but yeah, I’d be bad at telling a story where people aren’t, like, nice people who you’re rooting for.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I think I couldn’t do it, because I don’t speak any other language, but I’m always happy when people translate my fics!

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Doctor Who. Although maybe, like, New Kids on the Block self-insert stuff counts from junior high??? But Doctor Who was first published.

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Please see above re: favorite child lol

I tag every writer who wants to do this and I hope every writer does this because I always think these are fascinating!!

[singtotheskiies]

dream come true // five hargreeves x fem!reader (royal au)

masterlist

summary: prince five longs for a taste of the world outside the marble walls of the castle he’s always known—and when he meets you at the annual ball, he discovers that it’s even more beautiful than he could have imagined.

request (by my absolute favorite anon): I was wondering if you'd be up for writing an AU one shot? I can't get the idea of something similar to a Cinderella (or prince/princess royalty AU) out of my mind. At some point Reggie throws a Grand Ball for some reason and thats where Reader and Five meet and fall in love and well idk if there would be conflict regarding Reggie and his approval (not like Five would ask) but happy ending? Whether Reader is a princess or a commoner or something else I'll leave up to you.

words: 2000

warnings: none besides reggie’s shit parenting lolz

a/n: i,,,,,, am BLOWN AWAY by this request it is so cute!!! i feel like i really could have done more with this, but here’s a lil unedited smth for you all to enjoy!!! (i wouldn’t be 100% opposed to writing more for this au at some point either)

✖️✖️✖️

Five rolls his eyes to the back of his head for what seems like the thousandth time today. If he has to listen to Luther and Diego tear into each other for five more minutes, he thinks he’s actually going to go insane.

He can see Allison glare at him from the corner of his vision, and he raises his hand in a choice gesture without bothering to look at her directly. Reginald’s cane comes down hard on the floor, voice slicing through the room and silencing Luther and Diego’s bickering.

“Five, your behavior is absolutely un—“ “Spare me the lecture, father.” Five cracks a humorless smile. “I already know what you’re going to say—the future of the kingdom is in our hands, all of us must be prepared since we never know when our moment will come, and so on and so on. Well, I’m tired of this! So tired. All we ever do is sit here and listen to those two—“ he pins Luther and Diego with an angry stare— “argue on and on while you just sit there all self-righteous and above it all, never having the decency to tell us who’s going to inherit—“ “That is quite enough,” Reginald snaps, voice taut with rage. “Out.” Five’s eyes narrow. “Out!” And so he finds himself outside the throne room for the third time in as many weeks, head lolling back against the cool marble. I’m really not cut out for this, he thinks. If this is all royalty is—just endless arguing and politics day after day—then I don’t want it. The mid-morning sun breaks through the clouds, shining through the huge glass panes that line the hall. Gold trimmings catch the light, and a glimmer hits Five right in the eyes. He stands up with a sigh and makes his way to the window, looking out on the courtyard and the distant hills beyond. He’s spent hours looking outside at those hills, longing to run for them with all his might. Small homes dot the slopes like beads on a necklace, and Five wants to walk among them, feeling the ground against his feet and listening to all the villagers greet each other as they go about their days. He longs to be free of marble walls and false smiles and instead feel the freedom that he imagines comes from interacting with real people. An impossible dream, perhaps—but a lovely one all the same. And when Reginald calls Five back to the throne room for a talking-to, it certainly helps take his mind off things. Maybe someday, he thinks. ✖️✖️✖️ The sun beams down bright and warm, and you’re grateful for the shade of your stall in the market. It’s been a slow day for selling, and you can’t help but wish that the time would go faster so that you can be free to roam about as you wish. As much as you love selling your jewelry, there’s other prospects that spark more excitement in you—namely, the yearly Presentation Ball being held in just two days. A smile spreads across your face at the thought of it. It’s going to be beautiful, you imagine, full of normal people trying to be their best for one night. And, of course, the royals will be there. Now, you’re not one to gush over a family who’s never seen in public, but a tiny part of you has to admit that the allure of the elite is tempting. This is the first year you’ve ever been able to go, and you wonder if the stories you’ve heard of rulers more statue than person are true. You hope to get a glimpse of them—just to see if they are, in fact, human. The pads of your fingers brush over the necklace in your pocket you’re saving for the ball, and a smile stays on your face for the rest of the day. ✖️✖️✖️ “You had better redeem yourself tonight, boy!” Reginald says to Five, all rancid decorum and thinly-veiled contempt. “I think it unreasonable to expect that I will sit still like—like some puppet all night, Father,” Five shoots back. “Not when our people will be there—I fully expect to speak with some of them.” “What have I always told you and your siblings ever since you were young? Commoners—“ “—Are to be avoided at all costs. Yes, I know. And I am telling you that I believe we cannot be true rulers without knowing who we are reigning over,” Five speaks earnestly, face flushed. “You are a disgrace to this family,” Reginald shouts, all traces of civility gone. “Your siblings would never—“ “Well, I am not my siblings! And I am certainly not going to sit there next to them and feign pompousness,” Five spits. “I’ve had enough of doing things your way.” His turns his heel, moving to storm out of the room.

“Where are you going, boy? The opening introduction will start any minute!” Reginald shouts after him.

“Do it without me! I’m going to be where it really matters—with my people.” Five yells over his shoulder.

Defying Father feels better than he ever could have imagined—and so he takes a deep breath and enters the crowd with a growing smile.

✖️✖️✖️

It’s quite possibly the most exciting night of your life, and you’re completely, heartbreakingly late.

You curse under your breath as you run up the castle stairs, dress gathered up in your hands to keep from tripping. Guards stand on either side of the grand, gilded entrance, and you breathe a sigh of relief when you see a small knot of people entering just before you. You reach the doors and hold out your invitation, smiling at the guard as he nods in acceptance. “Enjoy,” he says, and you beam back.

“I will.”

The ballroom is just as stunningly beautiful as you’d imagined. Gold swirls along the white marble walls, accents of royal red adding to the decadence. The huge room is chock-full of people smiling and drinking and making eyes at each other. You breathe deeply in awe, eyes shining as your head moves side to side, hardly knowing where to look next.

After several moments of looking around, your eyes land on the grand throne at the very front of the room, furthest from you. King Reginald is seated in all his harsh glory on it, flanked on either side by two of the princes. They’re dressed in brilliant royal clothes, trying their best to look as commanding as their father. Four other beautiful royals sit next to them, but your eye is drawn most to the empty throne at the end of the row. If you remember correctly, there should be five princes and two princesses—but only four men are sitting with the king. You wonder where the other is—perhaps sick or off on royal business? The kingdom rarely sees the royals outside of the balls, so it’s impossible to tell which prince is missing.

You turn away from the thrones, curiosity overcome by your thirst. Maneuvering your way through the packs of people is a bit tricky, but you manage to reach the refreshments table without any major accidents. A servant pours you a drink, and you thank him with a smile. As you turn to leave, you nearly bump into a boy about your age.

“I’m so sorry!” you exclaim, before continuing on.

“Wait,” his voice comes after you. You stop and turn back around, pleasantly surprised. “I’m sorry too. What’s your name?”

You tell him, and he smiles.

“I’m F—“ he pauses. “Felix. It’s very nice to meet you.” He reaches for your hand and plants a soft kiss on your knuckles with surprising grace. He’s really quite handsome, you think—slender, searing green eyes, well-groomed, thick hair. Most endearing of all is a dimple in his cheek that deepens as he smiles at you.

“Very nice to meet you too, Felix,” you grin, still-tingling hand slowly coming back down to your side.

“That’s a beautiful necklace,” he says with admiration. “Where is it from?”

“I actually made it myself! I sell my own jewelry at the market on weekdays,” you beam. “The wire is made from metal mined right here in the kingdom. It’s purer here than in any surrounding region.”

“That’s amazing,” Felix says with another soft smile. “You must know all sorts of things about jewelry.”

“I guess I’ve learned my fair share,” you laugh quietly. “Jewelry is how I make a living—and it’s one of my passions, so I suppose you’re right.”

“Tell me about how you make pieces,” he asks as the two of you find a relatively quiet place to sit, voice genuine and curious.

And so you do.

✖️✖️✖️

You’re the most beautiful thing Five has ever seen—high praise from a boy who’s lived in splendor all his life. As he watches you talk about your craft, he can’t tear his eyes away from your animated face and hands. How had he lived this long without realizing how beautiful people were? He’d never known something as small as a wisp of hair falling over an eye could make his heart swell nearly to bursting.

“Felix? Felix!” Your voice cuts through his daze, and his eyes snap to yours, embarrassed.

“Sorry, just got, um—distracted.” Was Felix really the best he could come up with?

“Am I boring you?” you ask teasingly, the corners of your mouth tipping up. He looks into your eyes, sparkling with amusement, and finds that nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, he’s so overtaken by his thoughts that he blurts them out loud.

“N-no. No! Absolutely not! I think you’re fascinating—and so beautiful.” He curses his voice for whispering those last words, and averts his eyes in shame.

“You’re too kind,” comes your voice, soft but somehow makes the pounding of his heart even louder. “If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re quite handsome yourself.”

Years of lessons in diplomacy and etiquette have done absolutely nothing to prepare Five for the feeling that washes over him when you say those last few words. He has absolutely no idea how to respond, and the best his mind can come up with is a “really?”

“Yes,” you giggle, and he’s suddenly aware of just how close you are to him. You smell so nice, and the skin of your wrist is brushing his forearm—and next thing he knows, his fingers are flickering over yours, filling up the spaces in your hand. The look you give him is so beautiful that he wishes he had met you years ago so that it would already be ingrained in his mind.

Your head is nearing his shoulder now, and he’s afraid to breathe in case he ruins your descent. The moment your hair brushes against his neck, he hears his name from behind him. He whirls around to see Klaus with an enormous grin on his face.

“I see you’re enjoying yourself, brother,” he quips. “Unfortunately, dear old father has just about reached his limit with you. If you’re not on your throne in the next few minutes, he’s going to send some guards to find you.”

Five’s eyes are wide as he meets yours. “I’m so sorry. I can explain—“

“No, I apologize, your highness,” you say. “I’ve no doubt broken some sort of royal rule tonight.”

“You were perfect—you are perfect,” he whispers, shaking his head vehemently. “I will find you later tonight—I promise.”

Your smile is more precious than any title he’s been given. “Then I will wait for you—Felix.”

He presses a lingering kiss to your soft hand, unwilling to tear his eyes away from you. And, when he still doesn’t feel satisfied, he moves his lips to the tips of your fingers, your palm, your wrist. He’s only drawn away by the sound of Klaus clearing his throat pointedly.

And for the rest of the night, Klaus’ endless teasing and Reginald’s equally endless scolding are mere echos in his ears—his head is filled with only you.

#five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves #number five #number five x reader #number five imagine #five hargreeves royal au #royal au #the umbrella academy #tua #tua x reader #tua imagine #umbrella academy #umbrella academy x reader #umbrella academy imagine #aidan gallagher #aidan gallagher x reader #aidan gallagher imagine #au #fluff #imagine #x reader

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

selfie | jjk | 2

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Is this a rom-com, slice-of-life drama with unsolicited social commentary about gender stereotypes, idol music, and the meaningless meaning of the word, “adult”? Yes. But also, Jeon Jungkook shouldn’t be in love with his hyung’s little sister and he is. Shit.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of depression, anxiety, loneliness; fluff, but also frustrating because flirt already, sheesh; loons-to-lovers; non-idol!AU - oppa’s bestfriend!Jungkook x SHINee fangirl!reader

happy lunar new year!! year of the ox - jk’s lucky year <3

–

previous episode.

2. in which the two loons getting somewhere, only for more misunderstandings to happen.

Is this too much?

You stared at the picture and the message. Jeon Jungkook once again. Sending a picture of himself at the gym. It was a while since the last one, so his hair was slightly longer now. Was he growing it out? Oh well, none of your business. You sent your usual reply.

?

You sighed and went back to your journal, only to have your phone aggressively sing ‘3 PM’ from the Animal Crossing New Leaf OST. Directly asking for a video call this time. You thinned your mouth into a line and closed your journal, sliding it out of frame before accepting the call.

Jungkook’s big brown eye filled up the screen, directly on the camera.

“Why don’t you respond like a normal person?”

“Why don’t you start conversations off like a normal person?” you shot back, placing a hand on your cheek and leaning against it. There was stationery scattered all around you, but your journal was behind the charging stand.

Jungkook withdrew his eyeball, frowning. You could see his entire face now, his long black hair tied up into a silly sprout on top of his head. He was still wearing the dark gray sweatshirt from the photo, but he seemed to be in his apartment. All you could see was the wall.

“What about the pic though? Is it too much?”

“Too much what?” you responded irritably.

He waved his hand, shaking the phone with his movement. “You know… Too, ‘Hey I work out and am attractive, pay attention to me’ much?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re not even looking at the camera. Or wearing a sleeveless shirt.”

He blinked at you. “Should I?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, those are things not to do. Picture is fine,” you added, shifting some pens away so you could rest your head on your forearms.

“Oh.”

He looked uneasy for a second before the camera jostled around as he scurried to a different part of the room. You puffed your cheeks and closed your eyes, not wanting to get motion sick.

“I’ve been playing Persona 5!” Jungkook said cheerfully, making you open your eyes to see him directing the camera at his television where the Persona music was merrily playing. “Just finished Sakura Futaba’s Palace.” He switched the camera back as you smiled and gave him a thumbs up.

“Nice.”

Jungkook seemed to spy your deflated form on your desk.

“What’s wrong?”

You breathed out. “Nothing.”

He frowned. “Doesn’t seem like nothing.”

You shrugged. “Just thinking.” Your eyes flickered to him, smirking a little. “You wouldn’t know about that, I suspect.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. Other than that, he didn’t react to your remark.

“Thinking about what?” he asked, leaning back into his gray couch. His long hair flared out, sprout blooming against the cushions.

Your eyes shifted to the pens all over your desk. To your tablet, where you had been practicing digital drawing for a little while now. Just little drawings of cute animals, no people yet. To your journal, where you had been writing your diary entry.

“Lonely.”

You said the word without thinking. It was the title of your diary entry. You hadn’t meant to say it, but it was the only thing on your mind right now. Your eyes flickered back to Jungkook, who was watching you carefully. You sighed, feeling the need to explain yourself.

“All my friends are busy with school and their jobs. Oppa is always at work or with his girlfriend. Parents are always working.”

You could feel the distance between you and your high school friends. They were chasing your dreams and you were chasing nothing at all. You weren’t distant from your brother, but you were respectful of how much time he wanted to spend with his girlfriend. She might become his future wife someday, after all. Would you have a future husband one day? You wondered what he would be like.

You shook your head and shrugged. “But I did it to myself by taking a gap year, so it can’t be helped.”

“It’s okay to feel lonely.”

Slowly, your gaze shifted back to Jungkook. He was getting up from the couch, holding the phone up as he walked to what looked like the kitchen.

“I mean, you can’t help what you feel, right?” he said as he set the phone in a cupboard and went to the fridge. “Feeling lonely isn’t some kind of crime, so you don’t need to lock it away or anything.”

Jungkook picked up a take-out container and opened it, stiffing the contents. He seemed to be debating if it was edible or not. How long had that been there? You wanted to ask but then again, you didn’t want to know. Jungkook shrugged and dumped the mysterious contents into a bowl.

“I’ll talk to you whenever you want.”

You scoffed. “Why would you do that?”

Jungkook placed the bowl in the microwave and set the timer. The machine hummed as he turned around.

“To prevent you from feeling lonely.”

A butterfly danced in your chest.

You chuckled. “Why would I want to feel annoyed instead of lonely?”

Jungkook shrugged, taking out some chopsticks. “At least you have someone to be annoyed at instead of being alone?”

Two butterflies danced in your chest.

You huffed and rested your cheek on your forearms.

“Have you been talking to your Confidants?”

“What?”

“In Persona 5.”

“Who?”

You slapped your forehead. “Listen up, you monkey…”

“I’m an ox in the zodiac.”

“I mean your monkey gameplay…”

You began to explain the importance of Confidants in Persona to Jungkook.

-

That’s how you ended up in video calls with Jeon Jungkook several times a week.

He would usually start the call by sending a selfie, to which you would respond with your usual question mark. He was going to university for graphic design and worked at an electronics store part time. You, on the hand, were doing nothing. Well, not nothing, because you were clumsily learning digital art, but unless you were showering, you were always by your phone. Checking idol social media, especially SHINee. Sometimes your brother and his girlfriend asked you to accompany them to dinner, but you always declined, because being the third wheel was weird.

Also, watching your brother in love was weird.

Bleh.

“They always make out in front of me,” you were telling Jungkook as he asked why you weren’t at dinner earlier with your brother and his friends. Your brother had taken his girlfriend, of course. “It’s weird.”

Jungkook winced. “Yeah, I get what you mean. But I was there.”

“So what?”

Jungkook raised his hands. He was in his bed, rolling around in gray sheets. “Maybe you care?”

“I’d like to be spared watching oppa’s PDA, thanks.”

As usual, you were at your desk. This time your tablet was in front of you. You pushed the pen around, indecisively drawing lines and undoing your last action, twisting your mouth to one side, not really looking at Jungkook. He wasn’t doing anything of note, anyway.

“You don’t like PDA?”

You shrugged. “It’s whatever. I don’t really care.”

“What are you drawing?”

“Nothing good,” you sighed, putting down the tablet pen. The little cat character looked back at you, its expression the same bored and dispassionate face you usually had. You hadn’t really decided on a color for it yet. Maybe gray. That’s how you usually felt, anyway. You knew the collar color was going to be aqua though. A nod to your SHINee obsession.

“Show me.”

“No.”

“Come on.”

You looked up to Jungkook’s smile. There was a radiance about it. You felt the two butterflies dancing in your ribcage once again, fluttering, fluttering. His two front teeth where just ever so slightly too large for his mouth. It was endearing, like seeing a bunny. You looked back down at the little cat you created. Maybe you would make a bunny for Jungkook.

Pfft.

Why would you do that?

You laughed, confusing Jungkook as you placed your hand over your mouth, eyes squinting as you chortled to yourself, trying to imagine Jungkook as a silly little bunny. Probably one that worked out too much and drank banana milk every day. Probably loved to take selfies too. A cool bunny who wrote sunglasses sometimes and was probably altruistic and interesting.

Not like you.

Your laughter died down, eyes on the cat. You picked a cat to represent you because it was lazy and didn’t do much. Spent all day sleeping and staring outside, but never actually trying. Curious about things, but never committing.

“What’s so funny?” Jungkook asked, lifting the camera and holding it above him. You saw his long black hair flare out around his head. He was casually handsome, the kind of attractive that didn’t need much to be that way.

That’s weird. Why would you think something like that?

“Your face,” you replied, missing the usual bite you usually had behind your words. “You need a trim.”

He raised his eyebrow, pursing his lips. “You don’t like long hair?”

You pointed at the phone even though he probably couldn’t tell what you were pointing at. “The ends of your hair are splitting. It’s not going to grow well at this rate.”

“Are you a secret barber or something?”

“I’m a human being who cuts her own hair,” you replied impassively, sitting back in your chair.

Jungkook looked surprised. “Really? Since when?”

“Since the last time oppa attempted to cut my hair in high school.” You cringed at the memory.

Jungkook looked apologetic and ready to burst out laughing at the same time. “He tried his best.”

“He did not,” you retorted, remembering the botched bangs and blunt shoulder length cut. It was horrible. You went to the salon afterward and had it trimmed into a short pixie cut, because you would rather be bald than look like an overgrown coconut.

“The pixie cut was cool though.”

“Eh.” You shrugged. “Too hard to cut it by myself. Need some length to hide my mistakes.”

“Your hair always looks nice though. A little messy.”

You touched the top of your head self-consciously. Maybe you should start brushing it before accepting his calls. You didn’t really brush it that often because, well, who was going to see you? You basically only brushed it when you noticed a tangle.

Jungkook was smiling at you. His dark brown eyes seemed sparkly because of the overhead lights in his bedroom. The butterflies in your ribcage circled each other, looping round and round. You made a disgruntled face, reaching up read the current time at the top of your phone.

“Don’t you have class early tomorrow? Go to sleep.”

And then you pressed the end call button.

For some reason, relief and disappointment washed over you. Relief because there was a palpitating anxiousness you felt when you looked too directly into Jungkook’s eyes. Disappointment because maybe you shouldn’t have hung up so abruptly. That was a little rude.

You noticed you had a text. From Jeon Jungkook.

Good night.

-

Jungkook placed his phone beside him after he sent the text. He thought about sending a selfie too, but maybe that was too much. She had just seen him seconds before, anyway.

Why had she hung up like that?

He smiled as he remembered her laugh. He liked her laugh a lot. She hid it behind her hands and her eyes always squinted when she did so, nearly making them disappear. It looked a little bit like a cat when it was purring in satisfaction. Jungkook wondered what made her laugh like that. It must have been a thought, because he could see her face changing as she observed him. When she stopped laughing, her face was different too, becoming introspective.

She looked pretty today too.

Her hair a little messy, combed through with her fingers. That’s how it looked best, he thought. She had a natural prettiness, the kind that needed no help to be that way. Every action she did seemed cute, from the way she held her pen, to the way she twisted her mouth to one side when she was working on something, to the way she touched the top of her head, lips parting in thought.

If she wanted to be a model, she probably could.

At least, Jungkook wanted to take her picture.

He frowned a little. He’d been consistently sending her selfies before calling her and she always responded with a question mark. Maybe she wasn’t used to taking selfies? Or maybe, and what was more likely, she probably didn’t even care about them.

Jungkook exhaled, flopping to his side. Should he give up? But then he remembered her face right before she looked at the time. It was like she was staring at the screen, at his face. And for a split second, he swore he saw her upper lip upturn a bit, shyness in her gaze, a bit of pink flushing her cheeks. Was it just the lightning or something? His mind playing tricks on him?

“Bleh.”

Jungkook made a weird noise and plopped his face into his pillow.

-

Jungkook stopped calling you.

You wondered why. You had been kind of rude to him last time. Maybe he was mad at you? Maybe he wanted an apology? But you weren’t really sure what to apologize for. And it was weird to call without a purpose, right? And besides.

You didn’t really need to apologize to Jeon Jungkook.

He wasn’t even really your friend. He was your older brother’s friend.

You chewed on your lip, staring at the last picture he sent you. He wasn’t your friend. He was… well, what was he trying to do? Why was he talking to you? Maybe he was bored. Maybe he was nosy. You did say you followed his art Instagram, so maybe he was enthralled with the idea of knowing he had a fan or something?

But you weren’t a fan, per se.

Well, a little bit. He was really talented.

But not that much!

Because Jeon Jungkook was kind of annoying. He still hadn’t returned Persona 5 to your brother. Not that your older brother noticed, at all. He never finished Persona 5 and it was mostly your game now, with how many hours you had sunk into it. Jungkook hadn’t even known about Confidants until you told him. Hmph. Didn’t he look up game guides? Well, he should. Confidants were really important to the game. They helped you with useful abilities during boss fights by developing relationships with the other characters.

You stared at the last selfie Jungkook had sent you.

You kind of wished he was looking at the camera.

Maybe you needed a Confidant. You certainly didn’t really know how to develop relationships with anyone, except maybe your older brother. But that was because he was your brother and familial responsibility. Well. Not true. Your brother was really nice to you.

That’s why you folded his underwear for him, even to this day.

Sigh.

Jungkook did like SHINee though.

At least that was one thing in common, right?

-

next episode: 3. in which only a major event can bring these two loons back together – SHINee is back!

--

masterpost

#jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

[cosplayingwitch]

A Study in Dirt and Stars

September 30 Day Writing Challenge

Prompt: cloud/star gazing

Part one of the five part as-yet-unnamed series. (If you think of a name, let me know in the comments!) Each part will take place a good amount of time apart from each other.

Summary Star Wars AU with fem!reader and Poe Dameron as best friends/roommates (more?) and grad students- reader in archaeology, Poe in history/library science. In this part, the two get stuck when Poe’s old truck breaks down and they have to wait for a tow truck.

Triggers none, unless you have an issue with waiting for tow trucks or dirt/dust. Oh, they do swear too.

Tags: @make-me-imagine

Other tags: light angst, two idiots in love, mutual pining, would this count as angst?

The sound of shovels clanging together startled you out of your focus. You’d been reading up on bioarchaological research methods- something so boring most would fall asleep even thinking about it. You, however, find the whole thing fascinating, enough to dedicate your life to it. That sound was the announcement by your students that the day was done. Normally you’d have let them know this, but in that focus you’d lost track of time.

You shout “Nice work today everyone! Same time tomorrow!” even though you didn’t even notice their actual work. Hey, as long as they didn’t fuck anything up enough that it can’t be fixed, no one would ever know. 

The university held a field school for archaeology students every year, mostly upper level bachelors students and the occasional early masters students. Given your status as almost graduating from the masters program, you were easily chosen by your favorite professor to GA the class. Which meant, per your professor, you’d be the one in charge for day-to-day goings on. But if you succeeded at this, it’d be a great addition to your work experiences. Very helpful for getting a job in this field.

Which leads you to look around, seeing that your slightly early dismissal was taken advantage of by the students- they left the equipment strewn about the site without regard for how long it would take you to clean up after them. They’d be in for definite trouble in the morning, you’d make sure of it.

You heard the sound of truck tires coming down the dirt lane that was the only access point for your site. You look up to see your friend coming to pick you up. With your car in the shop- all that dust was not good for the engine- he was your only choice if you were to get to and from work.

“Hey there, Indiana. Discover the ark of the covenant yet?” shouted Poe from the driver's seat. 

“Not yet. Did you manage to run out of books in the library yet?” you shout back.

It was always like this between you two. You’d been friends since your freshman year when you took intro to anthropology together. For him, it was a gen-ed class; for you, it was the start of your career path. He was a history major, now working on his masters, like you. He had managed to get a job in the university’s library, though he would probably describe it like he had gotten a job at the Smithsonian. But joking between the two of you was more natural than having normal conversations. One year, he decided to get you a hat for your birthday, one that was suspiciously like that worn by the movie archaeologist. From then on, he called you Indiana instead of your name as an inside joke between the two of you.

You wouldn’t ever tell him- but you kind of liked it.

“Can’t leave quite yet, Mr Librarian. The students left this place a mess, and if Professor Solo decides to pop by the site in the morning with it looking like this I’d lose all hope of ever getting a job.”

“So? I can help! As long as these aren’t some kind of state-of-the-art technology shovels.” he teased. You could tell, he just wanted to get home. And even with the both of you working together, this could take a while.

About two hours later, once everything was packed up for the night, Poe went to start the truck so you could get home to your shared apartment (who better to be roommates with than your best friend?). And it wouldn’t start. He tried again, and again. Nothing. I guess even momentary exposure to this dust could mess with an engine, you thought. Or maybe his twenty year old truck had just finally kicked the bucket. You’d teased him about that truck for a while now, always joking about it someday just giving up and leaving him stranded somewhere. 

Of course, you’d always imagine yourself as coming to his rescue, not being stranded with him. 

“I guess you were right about it up and dying someday.” admitted Poe. “So are we walking or what?”

“It is getting dark, but it will take forever to walk back to the university. We could call a tow truck? Sit around waiting until it gets here?” you suggest. “It gets so beautiful out here. Without as much light pollution, the stars really shine bright.”

Poe was never one to turn down an activity that involved astronomy. That was his ‘secret’ hobby. He told you once that his dream when he was a child was to travel among the stars, but with that not accessible to him, the best he could do was study those who made the advancements in astronomy. 

The tow truck would take at least an hour, the lady from the dispatch center told you. It was the bad luck of location and calling on a busy night. You didn’t mind, it was more time to spend with your best friend.

“It’d probably be more comfortable to lay in the back than in the dirt.” suggested Poe. You knew that wasn’t the only reason he suggested it. He also hated getting dirty, so the idea of laying directly in recently disturbed dirt had to be unthinkable to him. (This was another thing you teased him about often.) However, this time he did have a slight point. If anything, it would probably stretch your back out more than the ground could.

With both of you perched on the end of the truck bed, you watched the stars together. Poe pointed out the various constellations. Even though you knew most of them already, you let him continue because you knew how happy it made him. Not much of a sacrifice to keep your best friend/roommate, you thought. You zoned out while he started rattling off facts about famous astronomers. He’d be the one to know all this- astronomy+history would always mean Poe would know about it.

You thought about how nice this was. The two of you laying back, talking, nowhere to be until the morning. You could get used to this.

Every so often, you’d chime in with a fact about the mythology behind the names of the constellation. Poe assumed you knew these from your anthropology classes during your undergrad. Truth was, you’d learned them for him. That way you had something to add to the conversation when he was discussing astronomy, which was frequently.

It was inevitable that the tow truck did eventually show up, and your night of stargazing would end. It never seemed like two hours had gone by with just you and Poe laying there together. And just like that, your evening together was over.

When you eventually get back to your apartment, it’s past midnight and all you want to do is take a shower to get all the dust, dirt, and sweat off of you from that hell of a day you had yesterday. “Maybe I’ll call Professor Solo in the morning, see if he can take over for the day.” You think. After all, shouldn’t he be teaching his own class?

And maybe, if by some miracle your car was ready to be picked up before noon, you could return the favor by driving your boyfriend best friend to work.

You stop yourself in your tracks. God. Did I just think what I thought I did? 

Yeah. After a day like that, your brain had to be at least a little scrambled, right?

At least you didn’t say it out loud. Poe would never stop teasing you about that.

When the two of you got home after midnight, Poe was beyond exhausted. Luckily, he wasn’t scheduled to work until after noon tomorrow. Or, with it being after midnight, would that be today?

Whatever. I just need sleep, Poe thought.

But he couldn’t sleep that night. (Morning? Every time Poe thought about that it made his head hurt.) He was too wrapped up in thinking about the night you just spent stargazing together. Just laying there, talking, sharing space facts and constellation myths.

He just couldn’t get past the relationship the two of you had. No pressure, no one constantly asking when they’d get together already. Just two grad students, hanging out and having a good time together.

Maybe, Poe thought, he could even be glad his car broke down while picking up his girlfriend best friend from work.

Wait, Poe though. Not my girlfriend, my best friend. I’m not ruining our friendship because I had one thought about her that way. Besides, he continued, who knows if she’d even like me that way.

Poe did fall asleep a little while after that, but not before sending in a request to his boss for a sick day. There was no way he’d get enough sleep to go to work tomorrow.

Author Note- I appreciate any comments/likes/reblogs if you would! Also, this is my first fan fiction published on Tumblr, so please be nice (and leave constructive criticism if you have any). I’ll probably also post this to Archive of Our Own at some point, but for now it’s only on Tumblr.

I have to say, I do enjoy writing for my two idiots here. Next chapter/part will be published on 9/10, so come back for that if you like this. And if you really like this, message me to be tagged in the next part.

#meras30daywritingchallenge #star wars au #star wars fan fiction #Poe Dameron #fan fiction writing #writing challenge #still new to this #these two are idiots #angst? #i dont know

[luna-loner]

A GakuYuki Mulan AU

This is a story that’s been on my mind for some time now and my GakuYuki heart has been starving for some new content, so like a good shipper, I will feed it.

Note: Very long post.

Cast:

The picks for the lead roles are obvious. (This is a GakuYuki story after all), but I wanna talk about the trio for a bit.

I had considered giving these roles to the Terasaka gang. (Terasaka/Yao, Muramatsu/Ling, and Yoshida/Chien-Po), but honestly, I think Araki, Seo, and Koyama were better candidates. Seo just fits the role of Yao.

I know Chien-Po is a sweetheart, but the character book states that Araki is gentle-mannered (Though he still looks down on those he deems inferior.) I just feel like he’d fit the role.

I had considered making Ren Ling, but if I remember correctly (I haven’t watched Mulan in ages, so my memory’s pretty hazy.) Ling doesn’t have the best luck attracting girls. (I may reconsider this decision. Poor Ren’s the only one of the Big Five who doesn’t have a role in this story.) I also feel like Yuuji would fit this role, but it doesn’t feel quite right to have him with Seo and Araki, even if this is an AU.

More Characters:

I’ll be completely honest, I wasn’t completely okay with making Karma Mushu, because as funny as it is to have Karma say “Dishonor on your cow!”, let’s be real, Karma is nothing like Mushu. I actually considered giving this role to either Rio or Okajima, who I honestly feel like fits the role better. (There was that one scene where Mushu tells Mulan he can see through her armor and Mulan covers her chest and knocks him to the ground; I can definitely see Okajima doing that.)

Ultimately though, I decided on Karma after deciding to do some changes, which I’ll talk about later.

Nagisa as a cute, little cricket; no explanation needed. 

Hiromi as the matchmaker, because who else? 

Shiro as Shan Yu because I can't think of anyone else (Though, maybe Takaoka would fit the role as well). Shiro may not seem like a fighter, but he was willing to die for the sake of revenge.

Other Characters:

Gakuhou: Obviously General Li. Not sure if I’ll kill him off though.

Matsutaka: I’m torn between making him the emperor or the first ancestor.

Ono: Chi-Fu.

Karasuma and Korosensei: I’d like to add them in the story, but I honestly have no idea which roles best suit them.

Changes:

Unlike Fa Zhou, Yukiko’s father isn’t the only man in the family. I have a few scenarios for her brother:

First scenario: He’s dead, either due to illness, or in a previous war.

Second scenario: He’s alive, but Yukiko’s grandmother isn’t. Yukiko doesn’t want to lose another loved one, so she goes instead, pretending to be him. (He’s not happy about that.) In this case, her brother would take the role of Mulan’s grandmother.

Third Scenario: He’s alive and is enlisted, but Yukiko doesn’t want to lose another loved one, so she pretends to be a man from another family (Maybe Yada’s family since her brother’s sick and her father’s too old for war) just to protect him. Her brother finds out and is angry at her for this (Now that I think about it, it does sound outrageous for Yukiko to do this, but she doesn’t want to lose another loved one, so...yeah.)

Honestly, the first scenario seems like the best  and easiest option since it keeps the story faithful to the movie.

Now for Karma and Nagisa. Like I mentioned, Karma is nothing like Mushu, so I decided make some changes:

So, Karma is a lazy, mischievous dragon who gets into a lot of trouble. Despite that, he’s very clever and can be serious when he wants to be. So, when Yukiko sets off to war, one of the ancestors (Either Korosensei or Karasuma) convinces the first ancestor to let Karma go after her, rather than call on the Great Stone Dragon. This ancestor (Again, either Korosensei, or Karasuma) sees Karma’s potential and hopes that this mission will make a Karma a great and responsible dragon. 

Nagisa; I have two scenarios for him: 

Scenario 1: He’s a normal cricket, and his role in the story is the same as Cri-kee. (I call it the happy scenario because then, Hiromi won’t be his mom, yay!)

Scenario 2: Nagisa is the son of the matchmaker, and sadly, this means his backstory is the same as canon. One difference however, is that Hazama, his childhood friend who practices witchcraft, convinces him to run away with her from their abusive homes. They are caught, brought back home, and severely punished. Hazama sneaks into Nagisa’s room one night and is horrified to see that Hiromi....had done a serious number on her son. She panics and decides to use magic to quickly heal his wounds, but because she’s not yet experienced in healing magic, she accidentally transforms him into a cricket (On the bright side, his wounds are healed.)

Hazama hides the cricket Nagisa in her room and tries to undo the spell, but to no avail. One day, Nagisa accidentally leaps into the Kanzaki family’s garden and is found by Yukiko’s grandmother, who keeps him and treats him kindly. Hazama befriends Yukiko for the sole purpose of retrieving Nagisa, but after seeing how Nagisa is being loved cared for by Yukiko’s grandmother, she decides to leave him there until she finds away to break the spell. In the meantime, she still visits Yukiko, initially just to check on Nagisa, but then later, she and Yukiko become very close friends. Where am I going with this? I have no idea, I’m still developing this story.

Truthfully, I’m not planning on writing this, at least not at the moment. I might someday, but until then, I’ll just keep on daydreaming of Gakushuu singing I’ll make a man out of you.

#assassination classroom #ansatsu kyoushitsu #kanzaki yukiko #asano gakushuu #seo tomoya #koyama natsuhiko #araki teppei #akabane karma #shiota nagisa #shiota hiromi #yanagisawa kotaro #gakuyuki #asakanza #crossover #au #yukiko kanzaki #gakushuu asano #tomoya seo #natsuhiko koyama #teppei araki #karma akabane #nagisa shiota #hiromi shiota #kotarou yanagisawa

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

Soulmate September - Day 11

Day 11 - Pick your favorite Soulmate AU and write about it, it can be from this list or something completely different.  

(Balloon AU: you have a spirit-like balloon with the name of your soulmate written on it that only you can see. It will often drift towards your soulmate’s when they’re close by.)

Pairing(s): Romantic Logicality, Romantic Remile

TWs: Character Death (it’s loosely based on Disney’s UP, so y’all know whats going on), implied homophobia for a small section, unspecified heart condition mention

Author’s note: please forgive any inaccuracies in time periods and such, I did my best ;w; 

Also don’t let the tags throw you off, this story’s bittersweet but it’s really lovely, thank you if you do indeed keep reading, ily <3

–

They met when they were just children back in March of 1950. 

Logan Crofter had just come from the theatre after having seen the newest Walt Disney movie, Cinderella, when he overheard a commotion coming from the children’s park on his way home. He was always a cautious young lad but as he caught sight of his balloon begin to sway that way, Logan wasted no time in hurrying towards the sound of children arguing.

“Boys don’t wear dresses, stupid!!!”

“But it’s really pretty!!”

Logan arrived in time to see an older boy shove another boy about his age into a puddle, soaking the light blue dress he was wearing over a light t-shirt and dungarees. Upon realising the dress was likely ruined, the boy began crying. Logan wasted no time in getting between the two of them,

“Leave him alone, or I’ll inform the proper authorities!”

“.... You’ll what?”, the taller boy asked dumbfoundedly.

“It means I’ll tell your mom!!”

He was bluffing of course, Logan had no idea who the boy was, but the threat was enough to send him running. With a sigh of relief, he turned his attention to the boy in the puddle. Instead of crying anymore, he was gazing up at Logan in excited adoration,

“Wow!! You saved me!! Just like Prince Charming saved Cinderella!!!”

The boy wiped his face of tears and stood up to grasp Logan’s hands, “Thank you, thank you, thank youuuu!!”

Embarrassed by the overly sweet gesture, Logan cleared his throat, “You’re far too kind, I simply cannot tolerate bullying, I’m certainly no Prince Charming.”, he tried to assure the boy, “Truly, it was no trouble. Are you going to be alright, um-?”

“Patton!”, the boy, Patton, beamed.

A gasp left Logan, the name wasn’t that common, so perhaps….  “Patton Hart?”

The boy nodded, surprised, “That’s me-”, then realised, “A-Are you Logan Crofter!?”

Logan’s smile must’ve said it all as Patton threw his arms around him, “I can’t believe it! My soulmate saved me! I really am like Cinderella!”

“You are pretty like Cinderella as well.”, Logan offered shyly, shuffling his feet awkwardly. Patton giggled and took his hands. 

“Come on! I wanna introduce you to mama!! She’ll like you lots!!”

Patton was right, Logan adored Mrs Hart from the moment they were introduced. He loved the whole family with every member he was introduced to; it wasn’t hard to see where Patton got his shining personality from, happiness and warmth radiated from every one of them. Logan remembered the way Patton had introduced him to his parents and that summer he’d done the same for all his grandparents, his ‘tios and tias’ as he referred to them, and his many cousins who welcomed Logan with open arms.

He was grateful for such a loving family especially when his own disowned him. Logan had known from the day he finally brought Patton home to meet his parents - six years after they’d first met - that they would never accept his soulmate. Despite the majority of the world’s population accepting that the soulmate bond was a fixed infallible system, the Crofters had their minds made up that their son’s soulmate would be someone worthy of their expectations. Someone stoic and serious, not bubbly and energetic. Someone who was all work and no play, not someone who wanted to have fun and just enjoy life. Someone who was female, not another male. Logan hadn’t anticipated that extra twist of the knife but all the same, he wouldn’t trade Patton for anyone else.

It was hard being fourteen and having to turn his back on the family home he’d grown up in, but as Patton’s family helped him move his things into the room they’d painstakingly cleared out for him, Logan figured that feeling would soon pass.

--

Throughout high school, the two grew even more inseparable; Logan helped tutor Patton in math and science while Patton helped Logan with art and music. Logan joined Patton’s cooking club to support his cause while Patton would always attend Logan’s debates, captivated by his drive and dedication.

Another routine they’d started over the years was attending the latest screenings of each new Disney movie. In truth, Logan had lost his taste for “childish exploits” around the age of ten, but he would never admit out loud that seeing the way Patton would smile during their theatre dates made his heart race faster than any other sight on the entire planet. That was why for their 27th anniversary, Logan proposed to Patton during the double bill screening of The Many Adventures of Winnie The Pooh. He burned the moment Patton threw his arms around him in sheer glee into his brain forever. He would carry the joy of hearing his soulmate - no, his husband-to-be - cry out that wonderful “yes!” with him for eternity.

Sending out the invitations had been a nerve wracking affair for Logan, but Patton had assured him that everything would be okay in the end as he sent out his half of the invitations. He knew his parents wouldn’t show so he didn’t bother to invite them, but he wasn’t sure if his grandparents or distant aunts and uncles would. Aside from them, he’d never met much of his own family, most of them residing outside of the states. 

In the end, only his paternal grandparents and mother’s brother agreed to attend. Logan didn’t mind, he was just glad to have someone. Thankfully, his side of the church wouldn’t be too empty for the friends he made in his highschool years were more than happy to fill the pews.

Logan Crofter-Hart married his husband Patton Hart in the spring of 1981 after four years of planning and saving for their first home together. Logan’s endless studying and training to become a lecturer combined with Patton’s enthusiasm and drive to make money working at Foster’s Family Diner had all led up to this moment. As Logan placed the ring on Patton’s finger and promised to love and honour him - in sickness and in health, til death did they part - he couldn’t help but think himself the luckiest man alive. After the ceremony, his uncle and paternal grandparents had congratulated him, with the former asking what their next step would be.

Logan wasn’t sure about the far future, but at the time while he watched the love of his life dance and gesture for Logan to join him, all he could think to answer was “Simple, our Traditional Disney Movie Date.”, as he got up to indulge Patton’s request.

Said movie was The Fox And The Hound, and Patton, bless him, had cried for most of it. Logan draped his arm around his husband’s shoulders and softly wiped his tears with his other hand. While the scene where Todd’s owner sadly releases him into the wild played, Patton snuggled closer to Logan for comfort. Logan would deny that he teared up at that part too, though the memory of Patton humming the tune of Goodbye May Seem Forever would always stick with him even on his saddest days...

--

“Logan?”, Patton softly piped up as they lay in bed watching TV together one night.

Logan turned to face his husband, “Yes, starlight?”

“What do you think about...”, he hesitated, but continued at Logan’s nod of encouragement, “...us adopting?” 

The idea had indeed occurred to Logan. They’d been married only a year but he knew his husband would make a wonderful father. 

“.... Do you think I’d be ready, Patton?”, Logan offered unsurely. Patton softly removed his head from Logan’s shoulder and sat in his lap to properly apply one soothing hug directly to his darling husband.

“Only you’ll know for sure, but I think you’ll be an amazing father, Logie Bear.”

A soft kiss from his husband destroyed any doubt Logan had harboured. “Just imagine it, getting to watch our son or daughter grow up and get married someday! Ooh, or maybe they’ll become an astronaut! The second person to go into space!”

Logan chuckled, knowing Patton was playing on his fondness for space travel, “Perhaps, however, they would in fact be the fifth person to go into space-”

With a fond sigh, Patton brought Logan into a gentle kiss, one that Logan had no intentions of breaking to keep infodumping. He wrapped his arms around his husband’s waist, pulling him closer as if no amount of closeness would ever be enough. Another memory that would burn itself into his brain forever. Patton pulled back to his Logan with those puppy dog eyes that resulted in him getting what he wanted at least 80% of the time.

“So, does this mean you want to give adopting a try, Logie Bear?”

Feigning annoyance with a smiling eye roll and a forced huff of air, Logan replied, “Yeah. I guess-”

He spent the rest of the night returning Patton’s delighted kisses and listening to him ramble adorably about all the wonderful memories they’d make as a family.

--

The rejection hit the Hart couple hard; Patton even more so than Logan. 

Yes, he was just as crushed by the news, but Patton was distraught. 

They’d done all they could to be sure the adoption would be a success. Logan had been hired as part of the local university’s astrophysics division which did bring in enough money to allow the couple to renovate Logan’s old office room into a bedroom for their potential child. The day had been filled with laughter and, with some coercion from Patton, dancing along to the radio in between paint drying times. They’d been sure to go through all the steps, make sure their house was child friendly, even going as far as to secure references from friends and family in case they were needed.

Alas, some bad luck out of nowhere had been the first blow to the couple. After hanging on for a good decade or so, Foster’s Family Diner was bought over by a larger franchise and thus, Patton had been laid off with little warning to cut down the number of employees. The only comfort he found at the time was from his fellow staff who were devastated to see him go. The full weight of the situation really hit home when they realised it’d put enough of a dent in their income to make things a little less comfy for a while.

The second blow was the twins. Two young boys Patton had grown attached to during an Adoption Activity Day he and Logan had attended. Logan knew while he watched both boys painting his husband’s face with vastly different degrees of success, that they’d be the children Patton wanted to adopt. The boys seemed to love them too, going by their reluctance to let either of them leave at the end of the event. But the blow to their finances and the lack of a large enough room for twins had been a cause for concern with the agency, and try as the Harts might, they just weren’t able to get the room up to code in time.

Both boys were adopted that same week, and Patton further spiralled even further. Logan tried his best to try and cheer him up, but nothing seemed to work. As a last ditch attempt, Logan even requested to be able to be put in contact with the twins’ adoptive parents to ask for a visit but he was told, as anticipated, that the agency couldn’t allow it.

Logan refused to give up though. Using his university’s connections, he was able to find Patton a prospective new job; one of the researchers in the history department had a brother who worked for the local zoo. She assured Logan that with her brother’s approval, Patton would more than likely be offered the job opening they had going.

It wasn’t much, not really, but when he brought Patton to the zoo to surprise him with the offer of running the park’s souvenir shop, his husband’s glowing smile stole Logan’s breath away. For the first time in months, he heard Patton laugh with delight as he accepted the job.

--

With both of them working again, Logan put all of his effort into a new goal; helping Patton feel ready to adopt once more. It would be a slow venture; they cut out anything that wasn’t necessary and swapped the pricier items for store brands. The 80s rolled into the 90s and it felt like for a while the world would doom them to a life of endless saving, even having to eventually forgo their sacred cinema dates in favour of waiting for video and later DVD releases. 

But they were happy. 

Happy to have each other, and happily thinking of the day when they could try adopting again.

As the years went on, however, Logan began to worry. With he and his husband approaching their fifties, Patton’s hopes of adopting a young child to raise dwindled, knowing that they often gave other couples older children to look after. He knew Patton wanted to see them attend their first day of school, to teach them to ride a bike, to spend as much time as possible with them.

So Logan made a bold suggestion to Patton that night that they try again. 

Patton was quiet for a while causing Logan to fear it was still too soon, but his husband agreed that it had been long enough. They once more gave adoption a try.

--

The second time proved to be a charm and the Harts welcomed their son - six year old Emile - into the family in 1993.

He was an eccentric, curious young lad with a love of cartoons and biology; a perfect combination for the happy parents. Not that it would have mattered in the long run, they’d have loved their son no matter what.

Logan looked to the man asleep on his shoulder and their son who had also tuckered himself out watching The Nightmare Before Christmas with them. With a fond smile, Logan rested his head against the back of the sofa, catching sight of his soul balloon. It’d been years since he’d really paid much attention to it, but the name Patton Hart still glistened in wonderous golden letters set against the baby blue of the balloon. He glanced over to Patton, seeing that same cute sleepy face he always made. Logan wondered how, whenever he believed he had hit the maximum, he ended up falling more and more in love with Patton. 

The stronger the feeling grew, the more Logan felt like he could conquer anything, and he would do so in a heartbeat for his husband, and now his son too.. 

--

Love alone, however, couldn’t conquer all things. 

During Emile’s 14th birthday party, Patton collapsed. It was sudden and terrifying, but thankfully Logan was able to keep him out of harm's way until the paramedics arrived. Luckily, they were able to treat Patton at home, coming to the conclusion that heat exhaustion had been the culprit when they were informed that Patton had given himself little time to rest coupled with the unusually hot day.

Logan still wanted Patton to see a doctor as soon as possible, but Patton sweetly but stubbornly insisted he was fine. He didn’t want to cause more of a scene during Emile’s big day. Reluctantly, Logan let him make the final call, relief setting in as Patton went about the rest of the day as his usual cheerful self. Logan made sure to stay by his husband just in case, but the day passed without another hitch.

That couldn’t be said for the second time.

The call came for Logan during one of his lectures; Patton had been catching up with an old coworker from his diner days who’d come to the zoo with their granddaughter when he’d just crumpled to the floor without warning. Logan wasn’t sure what exactly happened, but the next thing he knew, he was parking his car outside the hospital and desperately asking the staff where his husband was being treated.

Fortunately, once again, Patton was more or less alright. When Logan saw him sitting upright in his hospital bed chattering away to a young girl in a hospital gown, he knew for sure his husband was alright. At least for now.

“Will you ever stop giving me a heart attack?”, Logan had sighed with fond exhaustion as he sat next to Patton with his hard carding through his soft umber hair. Patton chuckled and played with the blue tie Logan was so fond of, “Not if it means you’ll keep coming to my rescue like Prince Charming.”. 

Logan let out a huff of laughter, fondly recalling their first meeting. It felt like yesterday still…

“Does that mean you’re still my Cinderella?”

Patton tapped a finger to his chin and finally answered with a smile, “Maybe not. Glass slippers and fairy godmothers or not, I’d never leave your side for anything, Logie Bear.”

Logan wished Patton could have kept that promise.

--

The following years passed with a couple of stumbles along the way in regards to Patton’s health and still the doctor’s weren’t sure what caused his episodes. Logan was naturally worried; he and Patton were in their sixties, he knew that even though Patton kept bouncing back that one day statistically he wouldn’t be able to. That one day Patton would…

Logan didn’t allow himself to think about it. Instead he sat with his husband, enjoying the movie they’d put on; Disney’s UP. His attention wasn’t so much on the movie as it was on Patton. Every time he looked at his husband, Logan didn’t see the silver roots, eye wrinkles, and laughter lines; he saw the boy he’d moved in with at 14, the beautiful young man he went on regular cinema dates with like clockwork, the man whose excited tearful “yes!” still echoed in his brain no matter how many years had passed. 1979 felt both so long ago, yet like it was just yesterday. And now they were doing just what Logan had hoped; growing old together while their son was out in the world working as a therapist alongside his own husband. 

Logan had been skeptical of Remy the first time Emile had introduced them to his parents, but in spite of their sharp tongue and sassy attitude, Logan had easily grown fond of the person who would later become his child-in-law. Logan wasn’t sure if that was the term, but he did his best to keep up. He remembered the day Emile had come home from high school, excitedly babbling about his soulmate. Patton had been on cloud nine the whole time, and while Logan was just as delighted for their son, he was too wrapped up in admiring the happiness that radiated from his husband.

Goodness, when had Logan gotten this sentimental? He asked, knowing full well he’d always been that way when it came to Pat. He decided to tune back in to the movie only to realise he’d been lost in his memories for nearly the entire run time.

On screen, Carl Fredricksen had just discovered the rest of his late wife’s additions to her adventure book. The more stoic Logan of the past would never have been swayed by such a heart-string tugging moment, but well. The years had softened that stony exterior. At least, that's what he told himself while he felt tears roll down his cheeks silently. Patton’s gentle thumb wiping away his tears, drew his attention, noting that his husband was also tearing up. But my god, that smile. Logan could’ve stared at that sunshine grin til the end of time itself. Seizing the moment, Logan gently leant in to give Patton a kiss, which his husband returned in kind.

At that moment, Logan had an idea. It took a lot of string pulling to make it happen, granted, but he refused to allow anything to get in the way of his plans. 

January of 2010 saw Patton’s 66th’s birthday roll in, and Logan first surprised his husband by driving their old car, a blue 1955 Ford Thunderbird, into the driveway. It wasn’t in the greatest condition, having been kept in their garage for years, but Logan had secretly washed and maintained it leading up to today. It still had their cassette tape in the player; the Beach Boys’ Wouldn’t It Be Nice played just as it had back in the day.

The car was only one of the surprises Logan had in store; he’d found an old diner that, while it wasn’t much like Foster’s, was dedicated to capturing the 1980s vibe they were both familiar with. After a couple of milkshakes and Patton’s insistence that they dance together when the jukebox would play their favourite tunes, Logan parked outside of a familiar sight.

Their old theatre and origin of Patton’s nickname, The Starlight; it’d been renamed of course, but thankfully the former owner’s daughter remembered the couple from back in her father’s day, and so Logan had asked if the old sign could be replaced just this once. She’d done one better, adding a lovely “Happy Birthday Patton!” banner underneath. Logan wasn’t sure if hugs could be fatal, but the one Patton sent his way nearly crushed him with the weight of it’s love.

Once inside the foyer, Logan directed Patton to their private screening of Cinderella. He had wanted the same movie he’d proposed to Patton with initially, but alas, the owner couldn’t track it down in time, thus they went with the movie that had led Logan to his soulmate in the first place. The Harts sat in a comfortable silence throughout the film; they didn’t need to say anything, their intertwined hands and soft sighs of adoration were enough. When the movie ended, they began to drive home until Patton spoke up, “Logan, look!”, he gestured out the window towards a familiar sight; the park where they’d met.

The old equipment had been removed and changed  somewhat over the years, but the familiar landmarks were all still there. Logan didn’t need to be asked the question as he parked nearby and walked with his beloved towards the spot where they’d met. The small indent in the ground where the same puddle he’d helped Patton out of was still there in all it’s sentimental glory. Logan raised an eyebrow as Patton sat at the edge of the former puddle until he realised what he was up to,

“Oh no! I’ve fallen! And I can’t get up! Oh where is my Prince Charming who shall come to save me?!”

Logan had to stifle his laughter with his hand for a second before offering it to Patton, rolling his eyes fondly as he stated, “I’m here, I’m here, don’t worry, fair Cinderella.”

He helped Patton to his feet, stumbling a little but thankfully he caught his husband in his waiting arms. With a smile that shone like the gold of his soul balloon’s cursive, Patton met Logan’s eyes, whispering a soft, loving, “I love you, Logan.”

Logan gently brushed a strand of Patton’s hair away from his soulmate’s eyes, “I love you too, Patton.”

The two began to walk back to the car, hand in hand, while Patton explained to Logan where he’d gotten the blue dress he’d met him in when Patton stopped. 

“Patton? Is everything alright-?”

Patton’s breathing hastened, and before he could try and say he was okay, he curled in on himself, grasping his chest. Terrified for his husband, Logan called 911, doing his best to get Patton to the car to drive him to A&E.

--

Nothing was alright.

Logan stayed by Patton’s side in hospital when the doctors delivered the bad news. 

Heart failure. 

The doctor was apologetic the whole time - “I’m so sorry” “If only we’d caught it sooner” “Too late for a transplant” “Surgery would only prolong the inevitable” - but Logan couldn’t bear to hear it. The love of his life lay dying in a cold, sterile room when he should be at home; dancing around their living room, baking with him in their kitchen, laying next to him in bed as they held hands and regaled each other with happy memories and countless “I love you”s. 

The decision wasn’t difficult, not for Logan anyway. The doctors offered to let Logan take him home so he could pass in the comfort of his own home, and while Emile had tried to convince his parents to try for more time in hospital, his fathers both refused. Patton was stubborn when he wanted to be, and Logan even more so. They’d wasted three days with Logan having to stay in hospital with Patton, he wasn’t about to jeopardise any more time. 

Emile and Remy came to visit each day once Patton came home. Neither one would comment on just how tired he looked, but Logan could see the concern in their faces. They both knew as well as Logan that any day could be Patton’s last. Every time they left, both would hold Patton tightly, making sure to always leave with an “I love you, dad”, no matter how late it made them for an appointment or the like.

--

One night, Logan noticed Patton was sitting outside on the porch step in the early morning sunrise, in one hand was a pack of balloons, and in the other, some string and markers.

“What’re you up to, starlight?”, Logan questioned curiously, unable to stop himself smiling as Patton sent him a smile at the old nickname.

“Just wanted to try something, Logie Bear. Here, you can pick out your color.”

Ah. Logan understood, rifling through the pack for the right shade of baby blue to make his soul balloon. He and Patton had of course described their balloons to each other, “Mine’s this lovely dark blue with silver writing! Bold and smart, just like you, Logan!”, Patton had said. He watched Patton try to blow up the balloon, but upon giving himself a coughing fit, Logan went to get the helium pump he’d used for the balloons at Emile’s 14th birthday. 

Once both balloons were safely inflated and tied with some string, the Harts set about writing each other’s name in an imitation of their respective soul balloon. Patton wasn’t sure whether to write Logan’s married name or the one on the balloon, but Logan assured him he didn’t mind. With both balloons finished, the couple tied the ends of their strings together, Patton requesting Logan take some pictures with his phone to show Emile and Remy later. With the request indulged - along with some depicting the couple sat cuddled together with their respective balloons - the two held out the tied end of the balloons and let them go.

Bobbing in the wind, the balloons carried themselves into the sky, twirling in a dance as they soared towards the clouds. The Harts watched until they could no longer see the pair anymore; eventually just sitting side by side on the porch, their fingers locked together and their heads rested against one another. 

The morning was stunning; soft cloudy skies that let the sun peek through while a warm breeze drifted by. 

“Hey, Logie Bear?”, Patton quietly requested. His voice ghostly even in it’s happiness.

“Yes, starlight?”

Logan couldn’t explain how or why he knew that it’d be the last thing he heard Patton say, but he simply held his husband of thirty nine years, his soulmate since birth, even closer as Patton’s last words carved themselves into his memory;

“Thanks for the adventure.”, his stunning eyes met Logan’s one last time, “I love you, Logan.”

“You too, Patton,”, Logan couldn’t stop the tears that rolled down his cheeks, “I love you too.”

Even as Patton’s grip loosened, as his eyes closed, as his breathing shuddered to a halt, Logan stayed with his husband for hours. He knew he’d soon have to break the news to their son before the poor lad and his husband found them still sitting together like always. But Logan couldn’t bring himself to move an inch. 

“I’d never leave your side for anything, starlight...”

--------

I’m not crying I’m SOBBING

This one has me in tears just rereading it to make last minute corrections, god...

Day 12 will be back to much happier themes, I promise!

@tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses @fandomsofrandom

#logicality #logan sanders #patton sanders #emile sanders #remy sanders #my fics #fanfic #soulmate september #tsshipmonth2020 #remile #UP AU #logan #patton #remy #emile #I genuinely started ugly crying #probably because I wrote this while listening to #Married Life the whole time #please don't let the sadness stop you tho #this made me like #happy cry too tbh #its so bittersweet #also yall have no idea the amount of research that went into this #like damn #im scottish i dunno shit about 1940s to 1980s merica #but it was p fun ngl

[sevengraces]

Blog Master Post

I’ve got a few things now so here’s a map (:

In case you didn’t read my bio:  Use they/he/she or star/stars when in reference to me.

My general tags that you're gonna find are listed and explained here:

grace is talking- me just saying things

grace is writing- me and my original works of fiction/poetry

theory- typically paired w grace is talking, for serious conversations

venting- says it in the name, here to complain lol

I ofc am gonna have various specific tags like tw's and AU things, but in the more generic sorting sense this holds true. All my random reblogs that either I don't add anything to or only add a little joke or smth don't get any tags at all, barring tag game stuff. Enjoy!

Writing:   -Poetry

Books

Time

Marching Orders  

Dancing With The Devil

Beauty In Disaster

Celestial Friendships

Pomegranates  

Introvert Surrounded By Extroverts

Lying To Yourself Isn’t Victimless

Sympathy To The Violent Victims

Suffragettes  

Technoblade Farewell

Resurrection and Murder (a mirror)

   -Prose

That Stars Romance Thing 

Dialogue Attempt 1 

Angst City Anonymous

  -Fanfiction

          Link to my AO3

Sanders Sides

Humanity’s Ongoing Need To Fuck Up  AO3 

This Wouldn’t Happen If You Would Communicate With Each Other AO3 

To Suffer Fucking Sucks AO3

Don’t Be Nice To Me Or I’ll Cry AO3  

Good Boys Do Not Rob Banks (Usually) AO3

The Adventure Zone: Balance

Angus And Their No Good, Very Bad Day AO3

The DreamSMP

A Eulogy For Medusa, Odysseus, Theseus AO3 

Childhood Catchup Series 

DC Universe

someday I'm gonna be somebody people want AO3

Talking:

  -Venting/Serious

Don’t Gaslight People? Please 

Hope For the Future 

Complain abt Surgery etc

Gender Dysphoria; A Gift From Dad (:

Dad Gift 2: Electric Boogaloo

Transphobic Family

Ex Friend Prose shit

Judas Religious Trauma

Humanity Rant

Penelope Scott Music Analysis

Friendship aches

Sick ):

Ableist Microaggressions

Neopronouns and noun self pronouns are valid

  -Fandom

Sanders Sides

Crying abt prinxiety

Do I have a favorite...... maybe 

The Adventure Zone

TAZ:Grad Thoughts 

Percy Jackson

Percabeth Babe

Percy and Nico

Doctor Who

Doctor Who “discourse”

Merlin

Merlin nonsense    

Supernatural

Supernatural

Dean Playlist

Dean Daddy Issues 

The Murderbot Diaries

MB Meta analysis

DC Universe

Tim Drake & Jason Todd rec

  -Hello

Simping ig 

Art:

  -Generic

   Ballerina  

  -Sanders Sides

Virgil Is Babey 

Virgil 2 Electric Boogaloo 

  -The Adventure Zone

Kravitz is Badass 

Angus McDonald my Beloved

Content Suggestions:

  -Merlin

Octo Merlin animatic

  -Supernatural

Never Love An Anchor Dean animatic

#masterpost #grace is talking