#i am in the midst of writing a fix it fic for her

[always-a-king-or-queen]

Miss Pevensie, they say, can you identify these bodies for us? And you try, gentlest sibling, you try your best. But the tears are thick in your throat and the grief is bitter on your tongue, and when you shut your eyes you see fire and steel, twisting together and crushing the breath from their bodies.

You look at your father, and mother, and cousin, still and silent on their backs, bruised and bloodied and unsmiling, and their faces are anything but familiar. Were their eyes open you would be looking into the face of a stranger. You press your hand over your mouth, and you do not cry, and you tell them what they want to know. These are my parents, you hear yourself say. This is my cousin. They nod, they thank you, they direct you forward. More, more, more corpses to identify. More losses to count.

You look at your eldest brother, golden blond hair spread across his forehead, thick like the mane of a lion. There is gravel in his skin and soot on his cheeks and his face is pale, hands folded over his chest and blood threaded into his yellow sweater. Red against gold. For a moment the combination brushes your brain, touches a distant memory of battle and clashing swords, but you blink and it is gone. This is my brother Peter, you say, in a voice choked with grief. The sky looks black outside the window, and your brother’s arm still feels warm when you touch it a final time.

You look to your younger brother, dark hair tousled, blood leaking between his lips. His skin is frost pale, like snow, so white he appears to be made of stone. Shrapnel cuts into his cheeks and sends crimson trails across his face. His hands are clenched, cap askew on hair smeared with blood. They tell you he died with his sister in his arms, body curled around her in a vain attempt to keep her safe. You stare at him with a lump in your throat, and for a moment you seem to see him, silver crown upon his head, smiling with quiet gentleness. It fades, and you whisper, This is my brother Edmund. The tree outside the window seems to wilt a little as you speak. Your brother’s cheek is like ice beneath your fingertips.

You look last at your sister. She is peaceful, lips lifted in a smile, hair tangled beneath her head and shoulders. She grips something in one hand— a tiny wooden carving. A lion. Your throat clenches to see it, but you do not know why. Her skin is warm, like sunlight, but there is such coldness in her face. Such emptiness. Blood smears her sky blue dress, and you weep to see it. Blood does not belong on your baby sister. For a moment the red makes you remember her, dancing wild by a fire with berry juice smeared on her hands and mouth, but surely not. Surely such a thing never happened. This is my sister Lucy, you murmur, and are able to say no more. For a moment it seems as if a mist touches the window, and your sister’s skin is hot against your palms.

You turn away, raven-dark hair falling over your cheek, and stare out the window with tears burning your throat. There is no sun, and you think that perhaps there will never be sun again. It has been taken away forever.

(For a moment you seem to hear a voice, deep, gentle, loving. To the radiant southern sun. For a moment you feel the weight of a crown in your hair. Perhaps you are losing your sanity, bit by bit. Perhaps it was shattered the moment you heard the news).

They asked you to identify the bodies, and you did, because they are your family. They were your family. You loved each and every one of them. You loved your mother's soft fingers in your hair and your father's deep chuckle. You loved your older brother's fierce kindness and your little brother's quiet demeanor and your baby sister's merriment. You loved them all. And now you stare through the window at a sky that is heavy with rain and think of flames and twisted metal and the blood on your siblings' skin.

You close your eyes. For a brief moment you think you smell lilies, and salt, and Lucy is laughing and Edmund is smiling and Peter's arms are slung around their shoulders, and then they are looking at you and beckoning and there is a lion with golden eyes and the sun is rising into a damp new sky.

Your eyes open slowly, glazed over with tears that spill down your cheeks like rain.

And for a moment, just for a moment, you remember.

[mihii-i]

Hey hope school is going well !,i was wondering if u could do a yae miko modern fic where she's dom ^ ^, I have adhd low key can't think past that lol

not-so-sweet angel.

Pairings: yae miko x fem!reader

CW: nsfw, female reader, modern au, college au, shorter fic (I am sleepy stop), mentions of masturbation, fingering, semi-public sex, lazy writing, I don’t like how this came out, smoking, sesbian lex, girls kissing I don’t know leave me alone, wlw, sough rex, leave me alone, upset author, not proofread.

A/N: @y0ka13 was a little tired to write mizu fics and I’m kinda sleepy so yes let’s go also this fic wasn’t the surprise I was talking about but earlier so put ur panties back on bc the time of said surprise depends on another author is all im gonna say. 🕯️

Indistinct chatter ran rampant in the halls paved in the direction of your lecture hall, your feet planted firmly against every square of stone peeking out between the crevices of which they were cemented together. The soles of your shoe mindlessly dragged along the stone in a scratchy grating noise as the clouds above peeked past the peak of your campus building, allowing you to get lost in the fluffed up white heaps bundled up along the sky.

Two thick books were hugged against your chest as you wandered off into thought during the gap between your back to back classes, cool air batting to your face while carefully lowering yourself down onto a nearby bench conveniently situated behind you. Years of hard work at this institution felt like nothing but slaving away at the endless stacks of paper scribbled with lines of overinflated texts, dreams of grasping at your goals only straying further and further as you constantly found yourself questioning the point of studying so hard if everything went to shit anyways.

You were slowly going insane. That much was obvious. From the way you found yourself hunched over a desk countless times, while the sky simmered into a dark wash of pitch black peeking through your dorm window, with sprinkles of stars caught in the corner of your eye if you looked close enough. Every night seemed like torture as you aimlessly scrabbled for the information to stick inside your brain, temples aching alongside your weakened limbs.

The overflow of assignments accompanied your sleepless nights that began to creep into every aspect of your life as the norm, ink hovering in a large splotch above the clean sheet of paper your pen bled against. Bitter notes of the aftertaste of coffee seeped into your mouth every morning post all nighter, tongue pulsating as your face scrunched up in distaste at the sting nearly making you crash mid lecture, while you struggled to fix your eyes open through the barrage of content.

Yet in the midst of the draining haze of merely living to keep up, a certain someone surely soothed that throbbing ache of fatigue eating away at you slowly, her presence alone pushing back your worry as you spent quite some time staring at the woman stood tall in the distance everytime. Honestly, having a crush on Yae Miko was meant to be a little distraction, merely a puppy crush that wasn’t supposed to grow to be anymore than—well, just that.

However, it spiked up progressively throughout the course of each month of the dragged on semester. Finding yourself noticing little things, such as how strands of her pinkish hair were perfectly smoothed over, reflective in the sunlight like that of a model. Eyes fixating on her as her lips parted to push out a sigh building on her tongue during a lecture, or the way she held her pen between her thumb and index finger in a squeezed grasp, resting her cheek onto her palm to stare unamused at the polished wooden podium with disinterest.

Yeah, it was obvious you weren’t just crushing like a dumb highschool kid.

You just couldn’t help it. Miko was practically perfect, it was pretty easy to get lost in the swirling purple that plunged you into the depths of her irises, swallowing you up like an electric storm. Yet gentle enough to nurture you into a cradling embrace between swirls of said storm.

Relying on someone who only occasionally talked to you as her friend a few times to be your ground was…probably too much. Yet you couldn’t help it.

Either way, it wasn’t like you simply stared at her to get the stress of the cluttered workload off your shoulders. Of course, you did indulge in yourself quite a few times, even if that little voice urged you not to. Rocking your hips back and forth against the ridges of your fingers hilted deep inside your cunt as your legs parted on either side of the bed, sharp intakes of breath pumping through your nostrils in rapid successions.

Your mind would always wander to Miko’s gentle smile sadisticallly stretching her lips as her hand planted you down, imagining her long nails scratching along your warmth with each stroke, voice rasping out her name in the confines of your dorm on those particularly stressful nights.

Being the perhaps not-so-sweet angel you were, you’d feel that awful cramp of guilt clinging onto you every time you came, nervously looking down at your clear coated, slick fingers stringed with your juices as you feared her finding out somehow. Would she be disgusted? Would she never even look at you again? It really was too much to take in, chest lurching as you attempted to push away any thoughts to dive back into the depths of your study sessions again.

“(Name)…”

You were still lost in thought, contemplating upon every minuscule occurrence that snaked into your life.

“(Name).”

Was someone calling you? You were pretty out of it to notice as an odd ringing trickled into your ears slowly.

“(Name)!”

Your head finally shot up to the pink haired woman observing down before you, hands on her hips as her low cut shirt exposed slivers of her pale skin in the wake of sunlight outdoors. Glancing around, you noticed how it was nearly empty outside, before looking at your phone, panicked. Damn, you were so out of it you probably had a mini sleep in your whipped out daze.

“Miko..?”

She continued to stare down at you, allowing you to take her hand as she helped you up onto your feet, your books still clutched in a hook within your freehand. Rubbing your eyes, you squinted over your blurred vision to get a view of her, nearly panicking when you realized the situation you got yourself into as a consequence of the grueling night you spent staying up.

“Easy, (Name). You looked like you were about to pass out, darling.” She muttered in a low chuckle, your breath choking up at the mere pet name she threw out there.

“I have to-“

“Don’t bother. Let’s just skip together. I mean your professor won’t get off your ass if you don’t won’t he?”

You managed a tiny nod, tensing up as she grasped your hand boldly with that elegant smile of hers, stretching her peachy lips into a grin that beheld her sophisticated nature.

God, you were attracted to her like a sore loser.

—

Even in those little fantasies of yours that you had conjured up on stressful nights, nothing could rival the crashing wave of pleasure that coiled up between your thighs in this particular moment as Miko’s thumb pressed against the swollen nerves of your clit, teeth grazing along the deep, purple bruises littered freshly along your skin with her fingers lodged inside you.

Who knew that Miko’s innocent request to skip class and hang out would evolve into you being railed out in the open, shielded from few sets of eyes, yet easy enough for anyone to spot if they bothered to look.

She had originally led you to the balcony of a building through a fire exit that only faculty knew, the cool steel of the stairway smoothing your palms as you climbed up to behold the view of the entire campus. Kindly, she had offered up a firm cylinder that slipped between your fingertips almost naturally, not taking long for you to notice that it was in fact a cigarette.

Of course, you couldn’t turn down your crush casually handing you a smoke, an intimate gesture presiding within the palm of your hand as you saw it. Upon lighting it, you couldn’t miss the flicker of gold roused in her purple irises, staring at you with what you had perceived to be a sort of hunger to be satiated.

And you were in fact right.

Her lips against yours felt like a saccharine taste of a sweet you couldn’t quite put your finger on, yet one of which you savored as the unexpected motion lingered onto your tastebuds as something to commit to memory. You didn’t even hesitate when her nimble, slender fingers undressed you briefly, pulling your trousers down far enough to have access to your pussy, yet far enough up so you weren’t fully unclothed down your lower body.

Head blanking at the overwhelming sensations, you couldn’t manage out anything but pathetic squeaks and moans at her rapid pace, far too quick for a session that tore near pornographic moans out of your throat, yet occurred in a setting where any student could walk outside and see her fucking you against the cold stone of the grey railings.

Miko only chuckled at the pathetic compliance you exhibited before her as your fingers squeezed at her wrist, attempting to slow her unforgiving pace to no avail. Each obscene noise wrenched out of you only spurred the pink haired woman in her ruthless onslaught against your walls clenching around her digits, nails dragging along your g-spot, reached by the deliciously perfect length of her fingers.

Each sharp breath rolled off your tongue in motion with the squelching of slick pooling from between your thighs, Miko’s gentle praises mixed with her harsh words ringing in your ears at each fervent thrust of her fingers slamming up into you at a steady angle that brushed up against all the right places of your heat.

The familar build up in your stomach mirrored that of the various times you’d touched yourself thinking of Miko, yet you would’ve never imagined her actually being there to quench that thirst roaring in you for so long, eyes rolling back from the slightest push of her fingers, plush against the warmth your slick walls. The mushy texture nearly making her slobber all over your neck like her last meal before whispering out.

“Come on, you can cum for me before anyone sees, can’t you?” She purred, freehand brushing against your bottom lip in an attempt to alleviate the overwhelming pleasure flooding your whole body accompanied by coaxing more moans out of you. You only responded with a weak nod, hips harshly bucking foward into her fingers repeatedly.

Until you gradually sank down in one final thrust, lips pressed into an “o” shape as you cried out with your juices spilling down to decorate her knuckles, a small whimper rasping out of you as she withdrew her fingers from your hole. Her perfectly manicured, rose pink nails glossed over in a wet layer of your cum. Miko eyed her fingers with a satisfied expression, dragging her tongue along her middle and ring fingers as her gaze pierced into yours with that same hunger that she exhibited before doing...that with you.

Before you could utter out another word, Miko quickly shoved your textbooks back into your hand, which you barely were able to balance considering your legs were spent—and snapped back, helping you slip up your underwear and zipping you pants before squeezing your shoulder as crowds of students poured out back into the outdoors of campus.

“Not a word that we were here.”

A/N: I have no words for this a/n. Only that I’m in a bad mood and this turned out shitty lmfao I absolutely despise how this fic turned out I’m sorry 😭

I sincerely apologize for the bad fic I will make up for it 🙏

[sturniolo04]

can you write a fic where madison has ocd and how chris helps her through it

A/n:  ofc! I absolutely love these requests I have coming in, you guys are amazing!! I hope you love it! And remember to leave requests in my inbox! If you don’t like the pre added name in my works you can simply put in your own or don’t read it, it up to you :)-Charli

dividers: @issysh3ll

Madison for the longest time was considerably a neat and organized kid. like from a very young age she always put her toys in a way that seem too neat for her young brain to understand. Little did chris know she fully understood it perfectly.

Madison had been professionally diagnosed with OCD which was no big deal from the inside but on the outside looking in she was always freaking out about when things either werent where she put them or if things are 'missing' but simply just not in the correct place.

"dad did you move my airpods i left right here next to my tv remote so i know where they are"

madison exclaims frantically looking all over the house for them. Chris had put madison's laundry away while she was out with her friends and he might have moved her case to the other nightstand without the tv remote next to it.

"um i might have put it on the other nightstand in your room mads"

he states as he watches her fumble through the pillow cushions on her bed. Madison stops and climbs off her bed looking at the other stand seeing the sparkly case sitting perfectly on top.

"dad seriously put it back next time you know that drives me insane"

madison huffs out grabbing the case and begining to fix her pillows once again.

"im sorry sweetie i know i was putting your laundry away and forgot to put it back"

chris sighs out.

Chris geuninely wanted Madison to get better about being okat if certain things were out of place items wasnt the end of world but he did understabnd that is was a challenge that she was definitely going to have to work through that was definitely not an over night process.

"hey sweetheart can we chat for a minute"

chris asks his daughter coming into her room and sitting nxt to her on her bed as she nods her head 'yes'

"sure whats up what happened is something wrong"

she rushes out anxiety bubbling to the surface.

"no i just want to let you know that you do know you dont have to have everything always in the same spot you know life happens we get busy and sometimes things get out of order in the midst of that"

chris trails of seeing his daughter physically tense up at the very thought of things being out of order at all.

"why cant it always be in order though if i can control it"

madison asks.

"i mean you can but it gets hard to do so over time is all i am saying so maybe we should just consider letting life take its course and let things happen"

chris states as madison's face morphs into pure worry.

"but what if i loose something or cant find something or even misplace it even"

madison huffs out scared of the thought of that actually happening to her or any of her items she owns or touches on a daily basis.

"hey its okay if you do any of those things then we can look for them together alright i promise its no the end of the world okay"

chris coos outs as madison takes a deep sigh mumbling a quick 'okay'

"would i ever lie to you mads"

chris asks her as she giggles and lets out a simple 'no'

"exactly"

chris chuckles bring her in for a side hug.

Taglist🗂️

@mintsturniolo @spicymuffins03 @dirtylittleheart333

@stayingstromboli @wh0resstuff @ksturnz @chaoswithus @emely9274 @ivysturnss @sturniolo-szn2 @lezleeferguson-120 @courta13 @chrepsi @lyingonchris

@tezzzzzzzz @babytomatoes21 @sturniolosymphony @zenithsturniolo @bernardsbendystraws @sturnioloslut101

[chiharuhashibira]

Hello everyone!

Writing here a next part to my first fic here in Tumblr, 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐤𝐨 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐝'𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞. But yep, as you can see, I am Chiharu Hashibira and my fave part there is Inosuke's confused part. So, I'll write for my baby Inosuke HAHAHA

Also applying here the correction that was pointed out last time XD Using Kamuro now instead of Oiran on the flashbacks 💓 Also, this is kind of a Fix-it Fic for Inosuke. So if you don't like it, feel free to scroll XD Sankyuuu!

Hope you'll enjoy this Inosuke lovers!

W/N=wrong name

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

𝑪𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒈𝒖𝒊𝒔𝒆

𝐀𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐈𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐚 𝐗 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Content Warnings: Curse words but fluffy!

Preview:

Back when you were a kamuro, you caught Inoko red-handed. Yes, apparently, he is a man, Inosuke Hashibira, and he tries to find the demon that seems to be lurking in the Ogimoto House. But then, he needs to find that demon before Monjiro finds it first, so he tries to make you forget what you saw by... kissing you. Oh well, the guy had seen a man and a woman do it, and apparently, the woman had forgotten that they were in public. So yeah, you just ride with what he thought. (He is naive and adorable.) But the catch is... you need to stop him from making other people "forget".

Timeskip to ten years later... Ten years after the fight with Daki and Gyutaro. Also ten years of not seeing Inosuke ever again after he had saved your life.

It was unexpected. You didn't plan on liking Inosuke, but after that first incident, and after he had really saved you from the demon who roamed in your town, things became deeper.

You can't forget about his green eyes, his wonderful face, and that naivete. It's been years since you last saw him.

Yes. Years.

The Inoko and Inosuke that you met that night are now only lurking within your dreams.

"Perhaps he's already 25 by now. If he's still alive, perhaps he's even married by now."

You wondered as you looked up at the night sky. The day when he tried to "make you forget" came back into your head, which made you smile. You have missed the softness of his lips.

You will never exchange that moment for anything else. And perhaps that is the reason why you walked out of the possibility of being an oiran. You wouldn't want anyone to kiss you ever again, unless it was that beautiful kamuro... That same boar-head boy that you met ten years ago.

Surprisingly, despite turning down the opportunity to be promoted as an oiran, you still lived in the same town.

After the Daki and Gyutaro incident, you went out of the house and tried to find a good future outside the district. But that's when you got sick, and fortunately, a wonderful old woman had taken you in as her granddaughter. And after she passed, here you are, managing the house that she owns.

For years, you had been desperate, wishing that Inosuke would even drop by as a client. But that time never came, and you tried your best to make peace with the thought that perhaps the boy had died.

Inosuke had saved you after Daki's obi had already almost absorbed you. That's the last time you've seen the boy, and until now, you've still missed him a lot.

You stopped walking and fixed your kimono as you watched how lively the streets were tonight. For some reason, you felt eyes on you, and that caused a shiver on your spine.

You looked around, feeling confused, and there, in the midst of the crowd, your eyes landed on a man clad in a bright blue kimono. You swear that you will never forget those raven locks that are fading into blue at the tips. Also, those unruly bangs surprisingly don't cover his marvellous green eyes.

"Inosuke?"

Your whisper seems to travel into his senses, despite him standing 10 feet away from you. The curious lad turned in your direction with wondering eyes. The naivete in those green eyes seems to have long faded, but the same familiar aura envelops the man. This is definitely Inosuke.

His eyes pierced yours, and he walked in your direction with wonder. When he's finally face-to-face with you, Inosuke crosses his arms and tilts his head to the side. "Why do you know me?"

A tinge of pain stabbed your heart. Of course, why would he still remember you? It's clear that you're just one of the hundreds of people that he has saved.

You looked down in dismay and tightened your grip on your sleeve. But despite the dismay, you composed yourself and looked into his eyes. He made you forget before... Now, you'll make him remember.

"Oh... uh. I don't know if you can still remember, but I was a kamuro in the Ogimoto House ten years ago."

"Ogimoto House?"

"Yes. You... were... uh... Inoko back then."

Inosuke's eyes widened when you said that name. It seems like a part of him suddenly turned on.

You suddenly felt his hand wrap around your wrist. Inosuke suddenly pulled you onto a less busy part of the street, and there he placed his hand on your shoulder.

"So... you didn't forget?"

Your eyes widened. It seems like he still remembers the thing he did to you. "Inosuke..."

"Just so you know. We won over that demon!" Inosuke said proudly, with a smile that brought you back to how he looked back ten years ago.

"You actually saved me from that obi demon." You said that made the lad shrug his shoulders. "Glad to know that, W/N."

"Actually, I'm also glad to see you... alive. Like, why are you here, Inoko—I mean, Inosuke?"

"I was looking back to places where me and my old friends went when we were still slayers. But wait. How do you remember me?"

"Uh, like how you remembered me too? So, did you make lots of people 'forget'?"

You sighed and waited for his answer. What you really wanted to know was if the man had kissed a lot of women in those ten years.

But if he did, He would have known that kissing doesn't make people forget. Or is Inosuke really dumb?

"Forget? Pfft! Why would I want to make anyone forget about the great Inosuke Hashibira? I just did that on you because you might blow up my disguise."

So... he hasn't kissed anyone! The thought killed all the doubts in your heart. He's still the naive Inosuke, and that's what attracted you to him in the first place.

It's like with Inosuke; you can explore everything from a fresh perspective. He's the new perspective, and you cherished those little moments ten years ago for so long already.

"Inosuke, just so you know too... What you did won't make anyone forget it. It will make people remember you more."

Inosuke blinks and smiles. "Do you think I still haven't known after ten years, W/N?"

His next words made you astounded. Is this man pretending? You bit your lower lip and looked away, blushing. You wanted to ask him and know everything about his facade and mysteriousness, but Inosuke has already spoken.

"I've seen my friends kiss the people they love. Actually, I'm glad that you're the first one I kissed, even if that happened because of my stupidity."

You rolled your eyes at the man whose smile was big and proud. His features aren't as girly as before. It might seem like Inoko was just a dream of yours, just by looking at how Inosuke has grown.

You felt your heart beating as his green eyes pierced against yours with an unexplained glimpse. "Why?" You managed to ask, which made Inosuke hold your hand and squeeze it tight.

"I was actually wondering why I had this faint memory of a girl in this district, but even if I tried to ignore it, it always came back. So, I decided to solve this mystery, and you found me. Caught me in another disguise once again."

You blinked in confusion and crossed your arms. "What disguise are you talking about?"

"Disguise as the same innocent Inosuke as before. I've grown. And I hope you'll still be curious and want to know me for who I am today."

"Oh well, you've had that wisdom now. But you'd still be the same cute Inoko for me."

"You find Inoko cute? How about me?"

"I see you as my great saviour and the man whom I've always wanted to be with, even if you had already almost forgotten about me."

Inosuke rolled his eyes and patted your head. "Oh well. Perhaps we could start again then? Let me just make you forget about my idiocy a while ago."

And with that, the boar-head guy, the lad you have been dreaming of, finally closed the gap between your faces and kissed your lips passionately.

The feeling had brought you back to how it really felt ten years ago. You groaned against his lips, which made Inosuke smile at your kisses. After you pulled out...

"What just happened?"

"I just made you forget that we're in public. But I don't care anyway. Hmm, go out with me, Y/N?"

That's the first time he got your name right, which made you blush. You patted his cheek and said, "Of course, Inosuke. But this time, I won't let you escape."

𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒐 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉

I'm so in love with Inosuke just so you know~ 🥹

So... there might be more aged up fics and NSFW stories for him soon hahaha! I'll do that when I am ready XD

Anyways, feel free to comment, reblog, or request a new fic!

Thank you once again my lovelies~

~𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓾-𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷🌸

[idabbleincrazy]

We Make Our Own Destiny: Ageless (Ch.5)

Fandom: Smallville

Rating: M (E overall)

Pairing: Clex

Characters: Clark Kent, Lex Luthor, Lana Lang, Evan, Chloe Sullivan, Jonathan Kent, Tanner Sutherland

Word Count: 2779

Warnings: angst, episode rewrite, teen parenthood

Summary: Clark tracks down Tanner, everyone deals with bad news.

A/N: I probably could have added another scene to this, but I kinda wanted to blend a couple scenes together in the next chapter, and am still working out altering Tanner's fate slightly. Sorry this fic keeps taking so long to write, I really think I got in over my a head a bit with this series 😅

Clark had managed to make it to the school just as the last class was dismissed, and within seconds, he tracked Chloe down, and caught her up on the situation as they head through the halls to the Torch's office. 

“Well, our friendly phone company just got friendlier. I was able to trace the 911 call back to a cell phone. His mother was Karen Gallagher. She was a senior here.”

Chloe hands him the Smallville High yearbook, showing him a picture of Karen.

“I remember hearing about her. Was she Wall of Weird material?”

Entering the office, Chloe heads straight for the computer, setting things up as they talk.

“I got a couple blips on the radar when I heard that she had a knack for shorting monitors whenever she walked into the computer lab, but I had no idea that super-fast pregnancy powers were part of the equation.”

“How long was she pregnant for?”

“Well, last weekend, Christina Varrano had a party at her house, and Karen apparently went NC-17 with some guy in the bedroom. Christina has no idea who the guy was.”

“So she got pregnant and delivered a baby a week later?”

Chloe nods an affirmative, just as bewildered. 

“We need to find Evan's father. He's the only real hope we have at saving him.”

Chloe settles into her chair, Clark's pain obvious in his eyes. Even Lana had sounded like she'd been crying recently when she had called a few minutes before Clark showed up. This kid must really be something.

“Okay, gimme a minute.”

She's not typing for long before she finds a trail to follow.

“Looks like Christina used e-vite to send out all her invitations. I guess ours got lost in the electronic mail. Let's just check all the RSVP's and try to track him down.”

Chloe pulls up a list of names and Clark looks over them. She separates the boys from the list, and after five minutes of applied knowledge of the current rumor mill, whittles the list down to five names. Printing up the list, she turns to Clark. She feels a tug of guilt at what she really wants to ask, more leading questions that would push him into telling her about his abilities, and forces out a more relevant question.

“You really care about this kid, huh?”

“Yeah, Chlo, I do. And so do Lana and Lex. It's…it's really hard, knowing that this is mostly out of our hands, what happens to him.”

It hurts, to see him put on that forced smile even as his eyes grow watery, and not be able to comfort him the way he needs to be, to not be able to pull him into her arms and tell him that no one expects him to save everyone, even with all his powers. She feels it, deep down in some place she cannot name, that that will never be her privilege. Maybe someday she'll at least be granted the honor of acknowledging what she already knows, but this is not that day.

“I'm sorry there isn't more I can do to help, but if you need any more info, just gimme a call, okay?”

Clark nods and rushes out the door. Chloe turns back to her computer screen, unnerved. It's not often that Clark is faced with something his powers couldn't fix, and she remembers how bad it got for him when he lost Ryan. She just hoped Lana could help keep him from sinking into that funk this time. Or Lex. Lex always had a special knack for brightening Clark's world; when they weren't on the outs, anyway. And considering how close Clark is keeping Lex in the midst of all this, she's more apt to put her money on Lex this time around. She senses a shift of monumental proportions has taken place, and honestly, it's about damn time. 

The first two guys on the list had led to dead ends, one having hooked up with a different girl at the party, the other embarrassedly admiting to getting sick after a few beers and leaving early. Neither had any idea who Karen even was, let alone who she'd snuck off with to one of the guest rooms. Checking into the third name on the list, Clark entered Massey's Garage, paper still in hand. He steps up to a middle-aged man working under a lifted car.

“Excuse me. Does Tanner Sutherland work here?”

The man paused and looked up at Clark. “Yeah, he's over there.” He points towards the back of the garage with his wrench.

“Thank you.”

Clark walks to the back where Tanner is working on a car, hidden behind the lifted hood, tinkering.

“Tanner?”

Without straightening up from his work, Tanner calls out.

“Leave your car around back, I'll get to it.”

Clark walks around the hood to see Tanner. He recognizes the kid from one of his classes last semester, remembers he hadn't been all that social, time split between studying and picking up extra shifts to help his parents out. And now, he might have a kid of his own. A dying kid who's already almost their own age. Clark takes a breath and approaches the young man.

“Hey, were you at Christina Varrano's party last week?”

Tanner hedges, finally looking away from the engine he was fiddling with. There's a nervousness to his demeanor that even Clark can pick up on. 

“Uh, I don't remember. I…” He wipes his hands with a rag, avoiding eye contact with Clark. “I think I was working that night.”

“So you didn't hook up with Karen Gallagher?”

“What do you want?” Tanner's tone sharpens, stepping around the car towards Clark. “Who the hell are you?”

“I'm the guy who found your son, laying in the middle of a field.” 

Clark feels a surge of protective anger, sure that Tanner is Evan's father. He knows evasive when he hears it. Tanner's face pales, even as he shakes his head in denial. 

“Look, dude, I don't have a son, and...and I don't know what you're talking about, all right? I got work to do.”

Tanner tries to walk away and Clark grabs his arm roughly. He knows it's a lot to lay at someone’s feet, but he can't lose this one chance to save Evan’s life. 

“I'm not going to let you walk away from this.” Clark pulls Tanner around to face him, schooling the building anger off his face. “Look, I know you didn't mean for it to happen, but it did. You have a responsibility.”

Tanner tugs at his unbreakable grip, his voice breaking.

“Get off me, man. What's your problem?”

“My problem is that your son needs your help. Now tell me how he got in that field.” 

Clark feels Tanner's defeat, the shorter teen slumping in his grasp. He lets him go, watches him remember.

“I got with this girl at a party. I was drunk, we both were. I didn't even think about condoms or anything, I screwed up. The next day, she calls me up, crying, saying she's...she's pregnant. And yeah, seemed a bit early to know that, right? But, I go over, and her stomach...it was already…” Tanner shakes his head in disbelief. “A week later, we were in my car, we're speeding to the hospital and she's screaming, it's coming!, and she starts glowing! And then the car, it went up like a freakin' a-bomb! That wasn't a baby. It was some kind of monster. It killed Karen.”

Rage wars with understanding, and Clark struggles to keep his voice even.

“He's a human being, Tanner, and he's your son. His name is Evan. He's aging rapidly.” Clark steps closer, like he's approaching a wounded animal, needing Tanner to understand “He needs your help. He needs a bone marrow transplant. You're the only one who can help him. He such a brilliant kid, if you could just-”

“What? No! Look, I can't deal with this. I never wanted any of this to happen, but, I'm sorry. I can't. I hate that I just left Karen like that, but I was so scared. Christ, I'm just a kid myself, man, how…how am I supposed to deal with this? I just want out of this crazy-ass town!”

Clark feels a warning rush of sad calmness, Lex, soothing his growing ire as Tanner steps around him and walks out of the garage. He lets Lex's projected stoicism surround him, stopping him from speeding after the teen and forcing him to understand. The cell Lex gave him rings in his pocket, and he pulls it out, grateful for this weird bond between him and his boyfriend. 

“Lex…”

“I know. I'll meet you back at the farm in half an hour. We'll find a way.”

Back home, Clark distracts himself with chores as he waits for Lex, moving bags of feed in the barn and talking to Jonathan. He still has to fight against the urge to run through Smallville and track Tanner down.

“How could someone do that to their own son?”

Jonathan sets his own bag down onto the pile and steps over to Clark, hating the anger and fear he sees in his son's eyes.

“Clark, being a father is an enormous responsibility. The kid is just too young to handle it.” 

“I'm handling it! Lex and Lana are handling it! He's Evan's only hope,” Clark can't stop his voice from cracking, “and Evan's going to die if we can't convince him to help.”

“I know that, son, and we're gonna figure it out.” God, he hopes they figure it out. That Lex can use that genius brain of his to save his son from this heartache. “But what's more important right now is what are we gonna tell Evan?”

“Maybe it's best I don't even tell him I found his father. He's gonna take it pretty hard.”

Jonathan claps a hand on Clark's shoulder, sighing.

“Son, an orphaned child has every right to know about his origins. You should know that better than anybody. I'll tell you what...I'll talk to him, okay? I mean, I do have a little experience in that department.”

Clark gives his father a half-smile, shaking his head.

“Thanks, Dad, but I think I should tell him.”

“Tell him what?” Clark turns to see Lana and Evan walking through the open doorway, Evan's face lighting up. “Did you find my father?

Clark doesn't answer, his throat dry, and his heart clenching. He had hoped Lex would get here before they did, to help ease Evan into the bad news. Another wave of comfort trickles through the connection, a ballast for his nerves. 

“Clark, where is he?” Lana's lips curve in a worried frown, and he suspects she's figured it out. 

“He works downtown...at Massey's Auto Garage. His name's Tanner Sutherland.”

“When can I see him?” 

The hopeful look on Evan's face tears at Clark’s already shredded heart. He flounders for a response, and breathes a quiet sigh of relief when Jonathan intervenes.

“Look, Evan, um, sometimes, when you meet your biological father, it can be painful.”

“Why? I don't understand.”

Clark thinks of Jor-El's imprint, of the pain and confusion and disappointment. 

“They don't always live up to your expectations, Evan. Trust me, I know.”

“But I want to see him.”

Lana turns to Evan, the weight of the situation heavy on her heart.

“Evan, we're just trying to protect you.”

“You can't protect me. No one can.”

“Just calm down, okay?” Lord knew Clark was angry enough for the both of them. 

“Stop telling me what to do, Clark!” Evan aims his words to hurt, lashing out through his own pain. “You're not my father.”

Evan runs up the stairs to the loft.

“Evan!”

“Clark.” Jonathan shakes his head, stopping him from following after Evan. He knows from angsty teenagers. “Give him some time to cool down.”

Clark is about to protest as Lex steps into the barn behind them. 

“From the sound of things, looks like I missed some upsetting news.”

It takes everything in Clark not to rush to Lex, to pull him into a tight embrace. Settles for the split-second glance of sympathy cast his way, the mental brush of warmth along his spine. Receives a placebo in Lana wrapping an arm around him in Lex's place; not the comfort he wants, but the comfort the trio knows Jonathan will not think to question. 

“Evan's father, Tanner, refuses to have anything to do with this.” Jonathan feels a little more of his icy regard for Lex melt away at the obvious pain radiating from the young man's eyes, the only hint at emotion the stoic businessman will let show through. He reminds himself that Lex has felt loss far too often for his age, an infant brother, followed too soon by his mother. “Have your scientists found any other option to slow this thing down?” 

“No, Mr. Kent. None of the tests so far have yielded any positive results. I've even flown in a doctor that specializes in progeria, but she thinks the treatment will only buy us a few hours, a day at most. But I haven't given up.” 

Jonathan looks between the three younger adults, for that's what Lana, what his son, are now. Adults, with a responsibility thrust upon them that they are ill prepared to handle, and he feels a swell of sadness, and pride, for this trio, dealing with this hard task so bravely. A major shift had taken place, and Jonathan had the feeling he wasn't seeing the entire picture, something niggling at the back of his mind that he couldn't pin down.

“Look, why don't the three of you go help Martha with dinner. She's already called the school to excuse you and Lana, for today and tomorrow. The rest of the chores can wait till later. I'll see if I can get Evan to come back to the house.”

“Thanks, Dad.” 

Clark gave Jonathan a watery smile and followed behind Lex, easing himself out of Lana's embrace as nonchalantly as he could. He appreciated the gesture, but it didn't compare. As soon as they were out of sight of the barn window, he fell into step beside Lex, taking up the offered hand. He could feel pain and anger to match his flowing between them, knows Lex has become just as attached to Evan as he has. 

Lex slows their pace, letting Lana continue up to the house ahead of them. 

“Where does this Tanner kid work? Maybe I can…convince…him to change his mind.”

“Lex-”

“With money, Clark, not threats. The procedure for a bone marrow transplant often leads to a lengthy recovery, so many people decline donating. Maybe if I take care of the financial aspect, talk to his boss about time off, he'll agree.”

“Maybe. He did say he wanted outta Smallville.” Clark looked at Lex, seeing only earnest desperation. “Okay. He works over at Massey's Garage. I don't know how late his shift runs.” 

Lex is interrupted from responding by the shrill ring of his cell. 

“Luthor.” Lex's expression darkens as he listens to the person on the other end, and Clark feels a spike of fear through the bond. He tunes his hearing to listen to the other side of the conversation. “Is there any possibility of an error?” 

“We've run the projections three times, sir. Even with the progeria treatment, there's no way to stall it without the donor marrow.”

Lex growls and flips his phone closed, squeezing it tightly in his hand. Clark tries to soothe him through the bond as he steps closer, taking Lex's hand and uncurling his fingers from around the cell that would have gained a cracked screen if Lex had been any stronger.

“What's wrong?”

“I've just been informed that Evan's cell division is increasing exponentially, along with the energy he expels when he ages. We have only a few hours to stabilize Evan with Tanner's marrow. According to the projections, Evan is building towards a massive chronological event.”

Clark gasps, calculations and permutations running through his speeding mind.

“So he'll, what? Be about eighty the next time he ages? He's still going to die too soon?”

“It's even worse than that, Clark. The next time Evan ages, he'll release enough energy to kill himself and anyone else at hand. We have to find Tanner and make him change his mind. Evan doesn't deserve this, he deserves a full life.”

Clark wrenches his teary gaze from Lex's at the sound of Jonathan shouting.

“Evan ran off. Three guesses where he's headed.”

~~~~~

@leatafandom

[onyxedskies]

ooo please tell me about savina!!!!!

AH OK

so

i made her when i was like 13 so i have a ton of lore for her so this might take a moment to sort out

she’s ingrid’s cousin on her dad’s side, making her a lady in some fairly small capacity. however, she was the second crestless child of a second crestless child, so her role as nobility is greatly diminished. she knew that, but she still wanted to make a difference to the common people; so, with her 15 year old brain, she decided that running away around the same time glenn became a knight to become a mercenary was the perfect way to help her people, as she sent the vast majority of her funds back to galatea territory in one way or another under a pseudonym.

and then she got hired by lord arundel.

she wasn’t told the nature of the job until she arrived. she was told to go to duscur to kill a “corrupt knight”—she knew there were plenty of those, so she didn’t question it until she actually arrived at duscur in the midst of the tragedy. she saw glenn shoving little dimitri into gilbert’s arms before running back into the chaos, and so she followed him. i have two ideas of how her story goes, one where she saves him and another where she doesn’t, but i’ve been thinking about him lately so we’ll go with the one where she does.

she manages to pull him out of the fire and heal him with the concoctions she had on hand and the minimally-better-than-elementary understanding of healing magic she had, but he was still incredibly wounded and, when he woke up, was missing his memory, not recognizing her or any of the things she tried to do to fix his amnesia. as he healed, it became clear he retained his sword prowess, and so he joined her in her mercenary endeavors until they eventually met the savage mockingbird on a job in adrestia around a year and a half after the tragedy.

they kept meeting the savage mockingbird, who eventually joined up with them. he disappeared for a while, eventually joining them again and leading them to abyss to set up home base there. he introduced himself as yuri, and savina introduced herself by name instead of the nickname “black sky”, which she had received for her use of thunder magic.

i am running out of time cause i have to get ready for an event but yuri and savina do eventually date and are an established relationship by the time canon starts. however, she and glenn are on a mission regarding their eventual goal of revealing arundel for his part in the tragedy, and thus do not meet the students and all them between chapters 4 and 5 when the dlc actually occurs. instead, they are met in chapter 10 (i think it’s 10), where savina stops kronya from killing jeralt.

i might be writing a fic about her i haven’t decided yet we shall see hehe

[theluckywizard]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers (if you’d like). Spread the self-love ♥️

Ohhh thank you for asking! 🥰

In no particular order (I love all my children):

Kiss Me Moonstruck

Explicit | Hawke x Trevelyan | WC 50k+ (WIP) | Dragon Age 2 | Fluff and Smut | Fish out of Water

This Satinalia romantic comedy is set during Dragon Age 2, Act 2. Old friends Leandra Hawke and Alsatia Trevelyan have conspired to fix up their incorrigible children Garrett and Rose. 100% inspired by the madcap romantic comedies of my youth in the 90s and writers like Stella Gibbons and P.G. Wodehouse smashed up with a little Georgette Heyer and Jane Austen, this fic is perhaps most representative of my life's work as a writer 😂 Shamelessly romantic, funny, a little bit ridiculous and underpinned by the madness and angst that is Dragon Age 2/ Kirkwall. I'm really super proud of this one.

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

Thirst

Mature, WC 6450, Angst and Whump | Cullen POV

This is a big brained companion fic to my DA:I long fic In the Shattering of Things in Cullen's POV (though it pretty much stands on its own). He's on the outs with his love interest Rose Trevelyan, he's struggling to feel like he belongs in the position of Commander and there are a bunch of extra delicious flashbacks to Dragon Age 2 featuring Samson and Meredith. Dragon Age 2 Cullen has always fascinated me because you really only get to see his growth if you make certain choices and pay close attention. This fic is my exploration of his growth, particularly his relationship to The Order as the situation in Kirkwall deteriorates and how that relates to his current predicament in Inquisition. I am also extremely proud of this fic! (I will note that it is *not* a deep exploration of his relationship to mages, so please don't go in expecting that).

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Something Wicked This Way Comes

Mature, WC 7,380, Angst & Action, Multiple POV

Yet another companion fic to my DA:I long fic In the Shattering of Things but I think it would be an interesting read without the greater context. The premise is that Inquisitor Rose Trevelyan has disappeared in the midst of the Peace Talks Gala at the Winter Palace and follows the POVs of Cullen, Garrett Hawke, Josephine, Vivienne and Orlesian Bard Fidencio Frye (my friend @monocytogenes's OC) as they learn she's missing and try to find her. This is a very non-canonical take on WEWH. It was an incredible challenge to write and i think I did a bang up job capturing the tension and stakes.

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

The Boy Who Talked too Much

Explicit, WC 2373, Fluff Smut, Alistair POV

This is one of my older fics, born of a writing prompt for Dragon Age Drunk Writing Circle. Mostly I was having a wonderful time getting into Alistair's head as he experiences a bit of a sexual awakening with a bold, but also inexperienced Elissa Cousland. In addition to feeling that I captured Alistair really well, I also think I nailed the kind of fumbly, youthful awkwardness that is mutual first times. It's a bit smutty but it's also just really sweet and funny.

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

In the Shattering of Things,

Explicit | Cullen x Trevelyan | Hawke x Trevelyan | WC: 450K + (WIP) | DA:I | Epic | Multiship | Slow burn | Fast burn | Complications While Saving the World

I would be remiss if I did not recommend my Inquisition long fic (which I'm still working on-- currently approaching Here Lies the Abyss). It's also a little bit complicated because my writing talent has come *a long way* since I began the fic in January '23. It basically begs the question: what if the Inquisitor is in over her head and what's it like trying to navigate falling in (and out of) love when the world is falling apart. It's got it all: romance, humor, heartbreak, ridiculously high stakes, a delicious but grown-up love triangle and a protagonist you can root for that is imperfect but doing her bloody best. When it's all done, this fic will probably be my greatest achievement and I will lie on the floor crying.

[gontagokuhara]

OKAY I FORGOR💀 TO MENTION THIS actually idk if I already said this but I LOVE the way you write kokichi? Like kokichi's jesterism clowncore energy is not talked about enough in this fandom, he's not just a lying troll, he can also be a corny little canned-bit filled jokester! He can be your angle! Or yuor devil! But he and Kaede give off such an "annoying little brother"/"exhausted oldest sister" vibe in pointy objects it never fails to make me laugh and also feel feelings!

Also ngl writing my lil (literally >2k) review gave me the energy to do my writing assignment so thank you for indirectly but also directly contributing to me not failing my class LMFAO

hi hello!! first of all thank u again for ur very sweet comments i keep rereading them . actively working on the next chapter and i reread them like an hour ago <3 also you are so me re: the writing thing literally i am writing this long ass response out as a warm up to getting started on the chapter again I SEE U. solidarity u got this class

as always below the cut because i like to yap (no spoilers butttttttt call it a small hint of what's to come next chapter)

ANYWAY !!! im glad people like that choice <3 his general silliness tends to get lost in canon in the midst of such a heavy fraught situation (where his dumbass is instigating fights constantly......) and so i feel it more natural to have it bleed into him in pointy objects you know? his backpack also offers just unreal opportunities for clownery and i can't help myself. i have issues with a lot of canon/fanon portrayals of kokichi so with him (as i do miu, and kiyo, and kaito, etc) i like to do the classic mogul move yoink & twist. i take character that needs fixer-uppering, mash 'em around like playdoh, and make them mostly the same but......better in my humble opinion. i feel like i do that pretty well with kokichi, and hearing those choices are appreciated makes me very happy <3

in that vein the kaede/kokichi dynamic is SOOOO important its one of my favorites ive worked into pointy objects i think. justice for my real protag kaede BUT her biting the dust so early both robbed canon content of what a friendship between them could look like. but it also gives me LOTS of room to pick up their barbie dolls and make them have good moments together. speaking of pointy objects canon, they arrived at camp within about a year of each other, before a lot of the other mainstay demigods began living there full time. gonta, miu, kaede, maki, and kokichi spent a lot of time as the only ones at camp; kids like kirumi/tenko/himiko/angie/kiyo are all summer-only, and full-timers ryoma, kaito, and kiibo came later (ages 14, 16, and within a few months of sonia giving them a soul [roughly the same stretch of time as ryoma's arrival], respectively).

all that lore TO say: kaede and kokichi grew up together in a lot of really important ways, and the dynamic that developed over the years very much is that exhausted older sister/exhausting little brother who are fiercely and kind of unexpectedly protective over one another. i could go on about all of the early full-time campers' dynamics because there's a lot within those five especially that i've like. developed in my brain? but havent fit into the 170k words 💀 the mind palace of spiderwebbing character relationships is very vast for how much has actually made it into the fic.....but wink wonk we WILL see a taste of it this next chapter

and finally, re edits: i did my one BIG edit fest back in may, and since then there haven't been any major changes. that said, i do reread the prior chapters quite often (checking details to make sure new writing doesn't have any discrepancies, getting myself back in the headspace to write shuuichi's voice, etc) and do occasionally find typos or phrasing or sentence flow i like changed, so i do fix those as i see them. that said, i DO know what you're talking about with chapter 3; that was a chapter i did pretty majorly redo in may, and there was definitely some redundant word use and odd sentence structure i went back and corrected. but i haven't made any changes that drastically alter the contents of the story; not more so than i did back in may, at least!

ok this as always got very long but it was as always very fun to answer!!!! thank you again for all your support MWAH MWAH and im sure we'll make contact again soon enough!!

[audi0med1c]

Hi👋 while im reading through everything again I have some general questions about your writing (which I love!). I’ve never wrote anything before and I’m in awe of people who can.

Here’s my first couple ( I have a lot 😅)

How did you come up with the story? Has the story changed much from your initial ideas to the chapters you’ve posted so far?

Aw love it keep 'em coming there's never too many!

The story idea came just from listening to some T-Swift vault songs on repeat in the midst of churning through a bunch of other fanfics and just listening to "Is It Over Now?" gave me the idea of a story about toxic sassy Clexa exes who just can't quite quit each other.

I was deeeeep into my canon fic, "Hold Me Down", and just wanted a fun break/escape from the realistic-Clexa that I was trying to keep as close to show-version of Lexa as possible. “Hold Me Down” felt very heavy and like I carried some unspoken obligation to ‘do right’ by this universe that had SO MUCH POTENTIAL…and I genuinely wrote that canon fic as my own personal outlet to fix that god-awful show with a much more interesting plot that focused WAY MORE on the grounder's and their dynamic and conflicts that would have arisen from Clexa's relationship.... and much less on the skyrats (also we deserved ONE REAL showdown btwn Lexa and Skaikru and I am very proud and happy of how I wrote that stand-off at the blockade outside Arkadia).

but back to your second question..... OH BOY has the story changed a lot since the initial concept haha .... mainly in DEPTH bc my initial idea was just me wanting a chance to write hella gratuitous *spice* with some LOOSE plot to string it all together.

Originally it was meant to be quick, (short), and basically just these two running into each other all over LA bc of their shared friend group and just having SO MUCH secret hooking up while still playfully hating each other with nonstop banter and bickering and blaming each other for why they weren't still actually together.

As the writing went on, I just could not help myself adding deeper emotions and significance (sorry ima Pisces but also I had way too many taylor swift songs to play off of with my loose outline) and it REALLY spiraled from there lol, I think because (to me) it's so natural for every version of Lexa to be so much of a strong facade she puts on for the rest of the world, but underneath she's just a little puddle of feelings. So I enjoyed (perhaps too much) running with Lexa's celebrity persona and then exploring all those deeper themes of "public" self vs real self, social media curation, and the damage of assumptions and mis-communication (or hell ZERO communication in this case). Also bc of the way the story shifted, if they HAD been constantly hooking up nonstop much earlier it didn’t make nearly as much sense how they would have stayed apart long enough to get to my later plot points.

Examples of how some things changed:

#1- Costia's character was originally meant to be a shallow, vapid wanna-be influencer who was NOT malicious in any way...but still was def just in-it for the exposure and maybe did care about Lexa innocently but just not on such a deep genuine sense. She was originally meant to be a very easy low-maintenance booty call who was always down for the late-night "you up?" text bc she enjoyed showing off her close affiliation to the actress and playing it up as more than it really was.

^^You maybe get that sense from those early chapters....but as the story went on esp after the rough Game-night chapter, and I (not-so-accidentally) made things much deeper and more harsh for Lexa, I needed at least ONE PERSON in the story to actually see her pain and care about her beyond her celebrity status, and that person just had to be Costia imo. What Clarke did/does to Lexa, even if it's just a fanfic.... I would not allow Clarke to be the one who breaks her but also gets to be the one to put her back together. Lexa needed to have a REAL attachment with someone else to make it significant that she just still can’t let go of her love for Clarke despite how awful Clarke was/is to her.

Costia becomes the embodiment of "you can be perfect, but still not perfect FOR ME..." An example in how to try and support someone, to LOVE someone who is at war with themself and trying to heal (and for those knowing what was happening in my real life while writing this whole story that probably makes a lot more sense.) I'm so defensive of Costia because I unknowingly was writing her for myself. Bc I related too much to what Lexa was going through with her view of herself and fucked up relationship with intimacy, where I needed a Costia in my life. Examples: what costia tells her when she makes the IG post after game night in “Mine(Costia’s version)….. how Costia responds when they are falling asleep at the end of “New Romantics”…. And how she treats Lexa after the vegas trip in “I can fix her” ch….

….so yea she's more protected than CLEXA in this story probably lol those two are toxic as hellllllllll but we still love them anyways as they figure their shit out).

#2 -Raven was NEVER meant to become the sort of villain she is right now? That was def a complete accident as the story got deeper. Though honestly the story isn't meant to have any one real villain? I wanted all the characters to be flawed, and noone in this story is innocent or blameless(except costia🤍).

I liked everyone having faults, and written where you SHOULD be able to "see" their perspective and why each character in this story is motivated to act the way they do (except Clarke, she's the biggest idiot here, she and I have BEEF). Wanting this to feel like it had more weight to it, I did NOT want it to pretty much be the whole friend group WANTING them back together because then what would really be keeping CLEXA apart? The friend group, and their opinions, had to be yet another obstacle (not just public scrutiny/fans opinions) for these two to overcome. Feels very natural that Clarke's best friend would "choose sides" thinking it was Lexa who wronged her bff....so we see Raven taking on that brazenly aggressive stance, not afraid to push buttons and antagonize bc that's def who she is....versus Octavia who is still on Clarke's 'side', but much more passively and only bc (right now) she thinks its what Clarke wants.

We will definitely see some shifts in the friends as more unfolds. We've already seen Murphy's impact once he was brought into things.... and Anya can read her best friend like a BOOK and called her out on the rekindled fling... but from a much more cautious and semi-judgmental way. How do we think Octavia or Lincoln would act if they also found out what these two are doing over the summer?

#3 - There was def supposed to be a bit of a Bellarke arc.... nothing major... just exploring a little bit more of Bellamy's unrequitted feelings. Seen in Ch 2 when Clarke texts three ppl after leaving the restaurant... Bellamy was only ever going to be that 'big brother' type of comfort friend where at most when they'd hang out for some venting/deep convos maybe she'd lean against him on the couch to watch a movie.... or little things that always kept them in some quasi-limbo giving Bel hope 'maybe one day'.... which was scrapped bc Luna's character just made more sense to keep as an ongoing presence to serve as a REAL threat... with both halves of CLEXA having a perfectly healthy option avail to them in Costia/Luna...

...but in initial outlines the two of them were gonna get closer as Lexa makes plenty of a mess with all her shenanigans, with Clarke wanting some company besides Raven's intense energy all the time, and Octavia was even going to support it, softly encouraging Clarke to maybe not overlook people who care about her and have always been around where she wasn't even looking.

The Bellamy side-arc was leading up to an IG post from Octavia that she was going to post, a cute *INNOCENT* pic of Clarke and Bellamy with the (T-Swift) caption "Maybe what you've been looking for has been here the whole time" and while nothing was ever ACTUALLY happening romantically between them, seeing it sends Lexa off on another destructive spiral. (Clarke, lost in her own emotions seeing Lexa’s retaliation antics does try to see Bellamy thru that lens, they were going to have ONE KISS before she realizes no this was never gona be anything and re-friendzones him again as a brother-like figure to her)

Wow did not mean to ramble for that long whoops.... but feel free to shoot over any other questions!!

[ao3feed-alienstage]

Dark Roasted Daydreaming

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/QbxYFyH by TheasMostlikelyWriting Ivan, a world famous korean model, and Till, student barista doing his absolute best. Till has never been away from his mother before. He’s been by her side through thick and thin. But in the midst of dealing with a disease that leaves her in a wheelchair, Io insists that Till follow his dreams and leave off to college. Hesitant but determined to make his mother proud, Till leaves home, moves in with his aunt, and begins working at his best friend’s cafe to pay rent. Enter, The Model. Ivan has spent most of his life in airports and planes and photoshoots and design studios, so when he gets a chance to settle and do something as mundane as go to college, he revels in every moment, determined to engage with all the things he never got to experience in his childhood and formative years. Small, calm things, like going to cafes. Enter The Barista. Self-indulgent fic inspired by cute and cheesy shoujo manga/anime!! Rating subject to change :3 Words: 2599, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English Fandoms: Alien Stage (Web Series) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M, Other Characters: Ivan (Alien Stage), Till (Alien Stage), Sua (Alien Stage), Mizi (Alien Stage), Hyuna (Alien Stage), Luka (Alien Stage), Dewey (Alien Stage), Isaac (Alien Stage), Hyun-Woo (Alien Stage), Minor Characters, Io (Alien Stage), Original Female Character(s) Relationships: Ivan/Till (Alien Stage), Ivan & Till (Alien Stage), Sua & Till (Alien Stage), Mizi & Till (Alien Stage), Ivan & Mizi & Sua & Till (Alien Stage) Additional Tags: oh right, I have to do tags...., Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, sorry I had to get the attention-seeking ones outta the way, Rated teen for language, But I don't swear in real life so it might seem awkward, Ivan-centric (Alien Stage), Till-centric (Alien Stage), Till is Bad at Feelings (Alien Stage), Rating May Change, If I learn how to write smut maybe, ...Anyway, Modeling, Barista Till (Alien Stage), Model Ivan (Alien Stage), Ivan and Mizi are Best Friends (Alien Stage), Flustered Till (Alien Stage), lowkey an angry twink, Not completely compliant to Korean culture I am so so sorry I'll fix itttt, Background Relationships, Unforuntely, MiziSua is just background lesbians but they will get they own fic someday, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Indulgent, Fluff, Shoujo Inspired, Slow Burn, Not Beta Read, :') read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/QbxYFyH

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted on Tuesdays.

Interview with Lydia Bower

Lydia Bower has written some true classic X-Files fics. Do yourself a favor and dig into her collection! She has 29 stories at Gossamer and 35 stories at AO3.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Actually, yes, it does. With AO3 becoming the premiere spot for fanfic (rightfully so, by the way) I assumed most of the newer fans were unaware of the Gossamer Archive and the few other sites still available for the older fics. So I was delighted to come back into the fandom and see folks reccing a lot of the classics.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

I remember how incredible it felt when I initially found people who got me, who were just as stupidly invested in this weird little TV show as I was. It was like nothing else I’d ever experienced. There were message boards and newsgroup lists and email lists; anything you wanted to talk about, you could find a place to do it. I loved the post-episode discussions and would spend hours at that. We had a week (or months) between episodes, so nothing went undissected. We were all very, um, focused. Yeah, focused is as good a word as any.

And then the fanfic started showing up. That was it for me; I was all in. I can still remember going first to Vincent’s archive and it was like achieving a state of nirvana. The heavens opened up, the birds began to sing, and all was right with the world.

What did I take away from it? More friendships and good memories than I can count. That’s something I’ll carry with me for the rest of my days. Oh, and the two best imaginary friends a person can have: Mulder and Scully. I carry them too, etched indelibly on my being.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

I was involved with all of it in the beginning. I bounced from newsgroups to mailing lists to message boards to web sites. Around the 5th or 6th season it got to be a bit much since I was also doing a lot of writing then, so I narrowed things down and got the majority of my fix from The Haven message board and the smaller Primal Screamers email group.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

As I said before, the friendships and the good times with fellow Philes. I also took away a better sense of who I am as a writer and how to use that to hone my skills. I learned how to look at media as a whole with a more critical and analytical eye and to dig beneath the surface of what I was consuming. I learned how to better express myself and maintain a cool head while in the midst of a fiery discussion. I became more confident of who I am and the worth of my opinions. I finished growing up, basically. Most of all, I learned how to just let go and enjoy being a fan of something so incredible that still connects with people almost 30 years later. That’s a legacy to be proud of.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I’ve always been drawn to the paranormal and the strange, and when I caught an ad for TXF, I made sure to tune in. The Pilot itself was enough to hook me. It was creepy and a little scary and the two leads were incredibly smart. It didn’t hurt that they were also good-looking and had smoking hot chemistry. Like the kind that jumps in through your eyeballs and settles into a low boil somewhere below the waist.

The final act of my undoing came with the episode Conduit. By the end of it I knew the show had a firm grip on my soul. Mulder captured my heart that night, too. He still has it. He’s one of a very small handful of characters I’ve encountered over the years that I just get, at a bone-deep level I can’t even begin to explain. I am him and he is me.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

I’d been writing fanfic since the mid-80s but hit the proverbial wall that is writer’s block right around the time the show premiered. I wanted to write TXF fanfic from the start, but the muse wasn’t having it. She reappeared not long after The Field Where I Died first aired. I hopped around on the web a bit and found much wailing and gnashing of teeth on the shipper front. The muse decided we needed to give my fellow shippers something to make them feel better and give them a bit of hope. So I wrote Games. And the rest is history.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

I reacquainted myself with it earlier this year after an extended absence. I walked away from the show and the fandom after my utter disappointment with the direction the show took after the 7th season. I just couldn’t choke down what TPTB were trying to feed me in S8, and completely tuned out of S9 (with the exception of the finale). I saw IWTB a couple years after it was released in theaters and watched the revival, too. Sadly, nothing I saw there made me want to dive back in. Then one night this past spring I was poking around for something to watch and caught Paper Hearts on a broadcast channel. That was all it took. That feeling I thought I’d lost came roaring back and I settled in for a complete S1-7 rewatch. I poked around looking for a spot to call home and came back to my safe place on Tumblr.

I’m neck-deep now, for however long that feeling lasts, and devoting a lot of my free time (again) to this weird little show about aliens and monsters and two people who love each other dearly. And I’m writing fanfic again - after another bout of writer’s block that lasted almost seven years.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

I got pretty deeply involved with the Game of Thrones fandom when the show began. I was already a fan of George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Fire and Ice book series and liked what I saw the first few years. I wrote several fanfics in the ASOIAF universe, and I’m still involved, but only from the perspective of a book fan. The show went too far off the rails toward the end of its run and killed my love for it.

Compared to TXF, I think it’s a much more segmented fandom. There are several small groups built around dozens of characters there, instead of what I see in TXF fanbase as a larger, more inclusive community. I think it’s safe to say we’re all here for Mulder & Scully in one respect or another. The other characters get their share of love too, but it’s the MSR that draws us in and helps keep us here. Other than that, fangirling is fangirling. You find your tribe and take it from there.

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

Well, let’s start with Fox Mulder, with the why of it being what I tried to explain earlier. Dana Scully, because I want to be her when I grow up, but without all the emotional and physical damage she had to endure. I’m also a fan of Sandor Clegane from ASOIAF. Stu Redman from Stephen King’s The Stand. Kevin Garvey and Nora Durst from the HBO show The Leftovers. Olivia Dunham and the Bishops from Fringe. The Three Musketeers that make up the core group of the TV show Evil. I could go on, but I don’t want to bore you. Suffice to say I’m drawn to characters who are complex, damaged, and deeply flawed, but are trying their best to do the right thing and who are ultimately perfectly imperfect human beings.

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

At present, every day. I’m very much back in over my head right now. If I’m not watching it, I’m writing about it, or talking about it. I don’t know how to obsess just a little bit when it comes to TXF and Moose and Squirrel.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

Absolutely! It’s almost overwhelming how much fanfic I have to catch up on, let alone the new fics being posted daily; and all that while trying to reread some of my old favorites on Gossamer and the other OG archives. I don’t have time to read fanfics in other fandoms right now. Maybe someday.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

How much room do you have for this? <g> Okay, in no particular order and no doubt forgetting some folks, I’ll read anything by these OG authors: Karen Rasch, Terma99, Nascent, Jill Selby, Madeleine Partous, Meredith, Kipler, MCA, Anne Haynes (Paula Graves), Penumbra (@mashnotesofthemythopoeic), Rachel Anton, Joyce McKibben, Tim Scott, Darwin_xf (@darwin-xf), Suzanne Schramm, Prufrock’s Love, Sue Barringer, Mustang Sally, Rivkat, Dianora, Plausible Deniability, A.I. Irving, Rachel Howard, MD1016, Punk Maneuverability (@seepunkrun), bugs, Dasha K (@dashakay​), Khyber, Blackwood, and OneMillionAndNine.

As far as new to me authors (OG or not), these folks are also talented wordsmiths: leiascully (@leiascully), Aloysia_Virgata (@aloysiavirgata), audries, and lepusarcticus (@lepus-arcticus). I’m sure there are more great authors out there, but I haven’t had as much time as I’d like to dig into the newer stuff on AO3.

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

TXF: Pass You By, Light Don’t Sleep, Red Letter Day, Primal Sympathy, In the Ruins, Dance Without Sleeping, and Incomplete. I’ll stop there but please understand that they’re all my babies and I love them equally. I’m also very fond of the Let Everything Happen to You series I recently completed.

ASOIAF: These Scars We Wear, The Calling, Beggar’s Banquet.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

I’m doing both. I’ve written and posted 10 new fanfics since I came back into the fold and I’m working on another one right now. I also have a casefile WIP I’m struggling with that I began during the early part of S4 and set aside when the cancer arc reared its head.

I’m also in the process of bringing all my older stuff from Gossamer and my defunct website over to AO3. I think I still have 2 or 3 shorter pieces still to be moved and one post-Fight the Future fic I wrote that’s lost somewhere on the net. If anyone has a copy of my fanfic titled Shift laying around, please give me a holler! [Lilydale note: Fic found! I had a copy and sent it to Lydia.]

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

See above!

Where do you get ideas for stories?

From the ether. Seriously. Something, whether it be a line of dialogue, a question, an image, or a scene, will just pop into my head and demand my time. I’ve written 6,000-word fanfics just to slip in a single line. I don’t know how the muse works or why; I’m just along for the ride.

What's the story behind your pen name?

I always published under my own name until I set up my AO3 account. I went with wonderland there because I’m like Alice when I’m writing: I fall down the rabbit hole into Wonderland and enter a different reality.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

Yeah, they know I write it but not where to find it. Though I suppose a Google search would make it easy enough to locate. My family and friends have always been supportive of my writing, albeit confused that I’ve chosen to write fanfic instead of “real” fiction. Yeah, I know.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

wonderland on AO3

@amplifyme on Tumblr

amplifyme271 on the bird app

Lydia Bower everywhere else

Thanks for your invitation, Lilydale, this was fun!

[whisperofsong]

Only You

Chapter One

Pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x Female OC

Summary: Jocelyn and Jake are reunited after high school.

Word Count: 2,241 words

Warnings: Some language and sexually suggestive remarks

Note: I am thrilled to finally release the first chapter of my Jake fic!  I am tagging individuals who may be interested.  However, please message me if you would like to be removed from or added to the taglist.  Thank you so much for your support💛

____________________________________________

Ten Years Ago

“When it comes to being a writer, there’s much to consider, but there’s one component that’s often overlooked: voice.  All twenty-four of you could include an identical piece of information within a sentence in your essays, yet there would be twenty-four versions of this sentence because no one’s voice is identical.  And this is something you must remember with each piece you write not only in my class, but also in other classes and beyond.”  

Jocelyn’s pen presses firmly on her lined notebook paper as she records Mrs. Livingston’s sage words.  Since she was ten years old, she’s envisioned herself not only becoming a writer, but also becoming a very successful one.  Therefore, she wanted to learn as much as she could in the meantime so this dream could become her reality.

In the midst of documenting this information, she hears snickering behind her.  She peers over her shoulder to see where it’s emanating from, only to discover the culprit is none other than Jake Seresin and one of his friends.  Their eyes are fixed on her, likely poking fun at her studious nature as they are apt to do.  Jocelyn rolls her shoulders and does her best to ignore their mocking; however, this does nothing to minimize her irritation.  

When the bell finally rings, Jocelyn swears she’s never heard a more melodious sound as she gathers her belongings and places them in her backpack.  A figure appears beside her desk and when she glances up, a sour expression crosses her face.

“You do realize there’s no extra credit for being a kiss ass, right?” Jake smirks.

“Actually, I’m just doing what any responsible individual would do and that’s taking notes.  You should try it some time,” she answers in a caustic tone.

“I’d hate to rob you of your fun.”  He winks before sauntering off towards the doorway and catching up with his buddy.

Jocelyn rolls her eyes at his retreating form.  It’s guys like Jake Seresin that try someone’s patience. She sighs in an exasperated manner before putting on her backpack and heading to her next class.  When she approaches the stairs, she passes by Jake once again, who is currently leaning casually against a locker as he converses with a girl in their grade.  Jocelyn can’t comprehend why the majority of girls are drawn to him.  Is he handsome?  Of course.  But his personality?  A complete disappointment that significantly detracts from his features.  However, she is one of the few who believes this and, as a result, is dedicated to limiting her interactions with him.  

Despite her attempts to avoid him, he seems to be everywhere. He’s an athletic star and has a tendency to be front and center at various school events.  He’s even been interviewed for the school newspaper several times as a result of donations made to the school, courtesy of his affluent parents.  The ample attention only inflates his ego and, with the female population salivating over him, the guy might as well be levitating because Jocelyn is convinced his feet abandoned the ground a long time ago.

As she works on the warm-up problem in her next class, she can’t help but reflect on Jake’s earlier classification of her: a kiss ass. Is that how it appears on the outside looking in?  If Jake is thinking it, it’s possible others possess the same perception.  That’s not what it’s about, though.  

Jocelyn has always placed an exorbitant amount of pressure on herself because she desires to not only succeed, but to excel.  The high she receives from a stellar mark on a test or a killer grade on a paper containing an in-depth analysis is something she has chased throughout her years of schooling for herself and herself alone.  Not to please her parents, not to impress her teachers, not to outshine her classmates…but to satisfy herself.  And even though she knows this to be true, Jake’s criticism remains at the forefront of her mind.

____________________________________________

Present Day

“C’mon!  Pleeeeeaaaase?  Indulge me this once!”  Danielle implores.

“Just this once?  Seriously?  What do you call that EDM concert we attended in June and that guy I kept company just so you could flirt with his friend?”  Jocelyn retorts.  “What was that party I attended with you last Halloween where some guy spilled bright red punch all over my costume while you made out with a guy dressed as Hercules?”

“Okay, fine, so you’ve done it on more than one occasion. But this place sounds perfect! Hot aviators, a chill atmosphere, reasonably-priced drinks…we can’t pass this up.”

Jocelyn refrains from rolling her eyes at Danielle’s comment. Danielle is a stranger to “passing things up,” which often leads to trouble of some kind…and, being the loyal friend she is, Jocelyn’s usually the one bailing her out of said trouble. However, she’s in need of a potent drink and a distraction, so she acquiesces.  “We’ll go,” Jocelyn says in a dry voice and Danielle leaps forward to envelop her in a tight hug.

When Jocelyn arrives at the Hard Deck with Danielle in tow, she’s relieved to snag one of the last parking spaces remaining.  It’s not lost on her that it’s a Saturday night and bars are a prime attraction on this particular day of the week. Nevertheless, she didn’t expect such a large crowd and this only heightened her apprehension about going as she was never one to gravitate towards packed spaces.  Danielle must sense her uneasiness because she links her arm through Jocelyn’s and gleefully guides them towards the entrance.

The din of the bar is almost disorienting and the numerous people milling around provide plenty to observe for the next few hours.  However, Jocelyn knows Danielle is not here to observe, but to let loose and tonight, she’s craving the same thing.  A middle-aged woman is running the bar and makes it look effortless as she smoothly grabs various glasses, fills them quickly, and speaks amicably with the patrons gathered around the bar.

Danielle approaches the bar and squeezes between two burly men as she leans over the bar top to share her drink order with the woman. Jocelyn remains standing off to the side as she prefers to distance herself from the crowd, but keeps an eye on her best friend to ensure she doesn’t become distracted by a guy.  A couple minutes later, Danielle returns with Jocelyn’s vodka mixed with sprite and the refreshing combination soothes Jocelyn’s nerves.

“Whaddya think?  Cool place, right?”  Danielle prompts.

“It’s um, definitely busy,” Jocelyn acknowledges before proceeding to raise her drink in the air.

“Oh, Jocelyn.  Thank goodness you have me to bring some fun into your life,” Danielle teases before pulling her in for a loose hug with her free hand.  Jocelyn only smiles in response.

Jocelyn surveys the crowd, scrutinizing the array of people surrounding her when a chorus of cheers greets her ears.  Her head swivels to the left and for a moment, her brain short circuits.  She squints before her eyes widen dramatically as she takes in the sight only feet away.  The man she spent a good portion of her high school years dodging, the one who made it his personal mission to mock her.  The one so many put on a pedestal while she could never pinpoint what made him worthy of one.  It is none other than Jake Seresin.

He's laughing heartily with guys who are likely his friends, his blindingly white teeth on full display.  One of his friends pats him on the shoulder as he lines up his cue to prepare for his upcoming shot.  Jocelyn swiftly turns around so that her back is now facing him and grabs Danielle’s elbow more roughly than she intended.

“Ow!  What’s your-“

“We need to leave.  Now.”

“What?  We literally just got here.  Besides, I haven’t even had a chance to scope out all the guys, although there are a couple I have my eye on…”  Danielle’s eyes lead to the area in which Jake can be found and Jocelyn mentally facepalms herself at her friend’s questionable taste in men.

“See, that’s the problem,” Jocelyn begins to explain.

“Well, well, well” a deep voice says from behind them. Jocelyn tentatively turns around. Although it’s been a decade since she last heard it in person, she would recognize that voice anywhere and anytime.

Danielle eyes him appreciatively with her lips pursing in approval, but Jocelyn clenches her teeth.

“Either this drink is stronger than I thought or you’re extremely lost.”  Jake playfully chews on the toothpick in his mouth as he stares Jocelyn down.

“What are you doing here?”  Jocelyn asks in a disgruntled tone.

“I believe you owe me an explanation first,” Jake teases.

“I’m here with my friend.”  She motions to Danielle with her thumb, but Danielle is oblivious as she continues to gawk at Jake while biting on her straw.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” he asks.

“Danielle, Jake.  Jake, Danielle,” Jocelyn grumbles, regretting her decision to accompany her friend here more and more by the minute.

Jake extends his hand to Danielle.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, darlin’.”  

“Likewise,” Danielle replies flirtatiously.  “How do you two know each other?”  She looks back and forth between the two of them, her eyes gleaming with eager anticipation to learn the backstory.

Jocelyn opens her mouth, but Jake beats her to it.  “High school.  Her nose was always in the books, not one for extracurriculars.  I was more of a social guy,” he explains and winks at Danielle, who giggles impishly.

“I don’t know if I would call fondling girls behind the dusty bookshelves in the library an extracurricular activity,” Jocelyn bites back while cocking her head at the infuriating man in front of her.

“You’re just jealous I never took you there.  All you had to do was ask,” he says smoothly.

“Wasn’t interested then and not interested now.”

“You keep telling yourself that, Jocelyn,” he replies breezily. Before Jocelyn can think of a comeback, Jake asks, “So, Danielle, how did you meet this one?”

“We met freshman year of college.  We were both English majors before I switched to education.” Jake nods with a smug smile forming on his face.  

“I shouldn’t be surprised.  Jocelyn was always writing something in high school,” he states.

“Would you look at that?  My drink seems to be empty.  Excuse me,” Danielle says politely while she slinks away to the bar and Jocelyn makes a note to self to reprimand her so-called friend later for leaving her alone with him.

“Back to my question.  Why are you here?” Jocelyn asks in an unfriendly tone.

“You’re looking at one of the newest Top Gun graduates.  I’m here for a special assignment,” he boasts.

“You’re an aviator?”  Jocelyn asks incredulously, unable to envision Jake Seresin in such a role.

“That’s right,” he confirms as he puffs out his chest.  “I’m no hero, though.  I’m still a regular guy despite my very important job and prestigious background.”

“Save it for one of the desperate bimbos in here that you’ll undoubtedly lure into your cheap bedding later tonight,” Jocelyn answers before taking a long sip of her drink.

“Oh, I don’t have to do much luring at all.  They fall into it easily and willingly,” he declares with that notorious grin that he flashed frequently in high school.

A minute passes by as the two of them watch each other, akin to two animals sizing up one another, determining who is the more dominant one of the two and unwilling to back down.

“Why are you here?” Jake questions.

“Danielle wanted to come here,” Jocelyn answers in a tight voice.

“No, not at the Hard Deck.  California,” he clarifies.

“I’m a writer for an online magazine, so I can essentially work anywhere.  When Danielle expressed an interest in teaching here a couple years ago and asked me to come with her, I went for it.”

“Quite a departure from life in North Carolina,” Jake comments. “Do you miss home?”

“Now more than ever,” Jocelyn responds.

“I think this may be fate.  Of all the places in the world, we end up together in the same one…again? That’s definitely not a coincidence.”

“Yes because reuniting with you is the pinnacle of my life,” she says bitterly.

“Glad to hear you admit it.”  He smiles wryly, his eyes never leaving her face.

“Still the same pompous Jake Seresin from high school,” Jocelyn remarks as she shakes her head disapprovingly.

“Still the same uptight Jocelyn Sanders from high school,” Jake replies, smirking as he says it.  “Enjoy your night.”  

He turns around and begins his walk back over to the pool table before he faces her once more.  “Oh and darlin’?”  Hearing him call her that only heightens her annoyance, but she holds onto her dwindling composure because she’ll be damned before she allows him to know he’s gotten under her skin.  “My bed sheets have had a lot of women grace them, but I’d be more than happy to let you see ‘em for yourself.”  He shoots her a devilish grin before turning around again as he strides over to the pool table in the cocky manner that only Jake Seresin could perfect.

Jocelyn’s disdain for this man is alive and well, but she has to admit that the man is committed to being an arrogant asshole.  Even she has to give him that.

@bradshawsbaby @luminousnotmatter @roosterforme @bobfloydsbabe @demxters @callmemana @gigisimsonmars @sebsxphia @therebeccaw @gretagerwigsmuse @novagreen04

[wellsayhelloaagin]

What If...? (Part Two)

Thanks @rebeliz777 for asking me to write part two, dream come true to work with one of my favourite authors.

Make sure you go check out part one here before reading this part.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f.reader

Request: A Natasha variant (preferably the one in What If.. who was a survivor of the Ultron apocalypse and then moved to a different timeline where the Avengers Initiative failed) arrived in the ‘canon’ timeline and then meets the reader who happens to be the wife of the ‘canon’ dead Natasha and reader also happens to be dead on Natasha variant’s own different timelines.

Am I making sense? Lol. Anyway, basically, the multiverse is in complete chaos here and different variants arrive in different timelines and Natasha and the love of her life meet each other again in the midst of all chaos. It would also be cool if Natasha variant gets shocked that her wife reader is in fact close to her Russian family. Would also really love Yelena to show up in this fic.

Words: 3.6k

What If...? is a collaborative writing project. Each chapter will be written by a different author but will follow the same storyline based on the request. Each author will add to the story until the request has been fulfilled.

Part Two

The past few hours had been a whirlwind. Yelena had taken you to a small private airport on the outskirts of the city where she led you to a light aircraft. You shouldn’t have been surprised when she had begun to set up for take off, Natasha was able to pilot most aircrafts so it made sense that her sister, a fellow widow, would possess the same skills.

You had strapped into the remaining seat in the cockpit, a wave of nostalgia washing over you as you recalled the countless times you had been a co-pilot for your wife. The memories of the easy smiles she would give you from the pilot's seat, headset resting atop her red locks as she looked over at you with nothing but love and adoration causing your heart to constrict painfully.

You turn away from Yelena, not wanting her to see the tears that were beginning to well in your eyes. You press the heel of your hand to your eyes, rubbing at them to try and get your emotions under control.

Yelena begins to nudge the small plane down the runway, the wheels lifting from the ground as the two of you become airborne. You adjust the headset over your ears, the noise from outside dulled by the noise suppression as your sister-in-law adjusts the dials on the control panel as you reach the desired altitude.

“So where are we going anyway?” you ask, your voice crackling through the headphones. You hadn’t thought to ask before now, too caught up with Yelena’s sudden appearance in your life and the prospect of meeting the rest of Natasha’s family.

She doesn’t even glance at you as she answers, her eyes fixed on the sky ahead as the plane glides through the air.

“Ohio.”

//

Thankfully the flight wasn’t long, an awkward silence filling the cockpit for the entire duration. You had so many questions but you were unsure how to bring them up, not wanting to dredge up any unpleasant memories for the woman who was clearly still struggling with the loss of her sister.

Instead, you watched the clouds as they rolled by, the sky a bright blue backdrop to one of the strangest days you had experienced in a long time. You hadn’t really done anything since Thanos, spending your days in your small apartment lost in the memories of happier times. The life you once led, days filled with missions and time spent training for the next threat were long behind you. You doubted you would ever be able to go back to it.

Not without Natasha.

When you land, the sun is high in the sky but the heat barely cuts through the late November chill. You’re glad you thought to bring your coat with you, wrapping it tighter around you as you climb down from the plane.

You’re surprised when you see the vehicle that Yelena is leading you towards, a blue pickup is not what you would have expected the blonde assassin to be driving. You don’t say anything as you clamber inside and neither does Yelena as she starts the car and begins the journey to your destination.

After ten minutes of driving, you can’t take the silence anymore and you reach for the radio. You thumb through the stations, trying to find a song that you recognised and smiling when the familiar notes of American Pie float through the air.

You close your eyes as you remember the look on Natasha’s face every time it would come on, the serene smile that would cross her face as she would close her eyes and sway gently to the beat. She never mentioned it but you knew it was one of her favourites and you were glad that the memory didn’t bring with it the usual wave of grief.

The music cuts off abruptly and your eyes fly open, looking over at Yelena and seeing the scowl across her features as she stares at the road ahead.

“No.”

She doesn’t offer any explanation and your stomach lurches as you realise that the song must be tied to one of her childhood memories with Natasha. Why else would the song elicit reactions from the both of them?

You turn your head to the window once more, watching as the truck navigates through the town. You pass shopfronts, football fields and rows and rows of houses; the neat, manicured lawns reflecting the ideal suburban life. You watch kids running around their yards, their laughter ringing through the air.

Yelena turns down a side street and you spy bikes resting against houses, trampolines standing tall in backyards and you even spot a tire swing hanging from one of the many trees. The houses are more spread out here, surrounded by trees and bushes and creating an almost magical, forest feel.

“This is where you grew up.” You don’t pose it as a question, not even looking to Yelena for confirmation.

Natasha had mentioned her time spent in Ohio, a wistful look on her face as she described the idyllic life she was able to lead for those few short years. Your heart had broken for her, knowing that the majority of her childhood had been filled with fear and pain. But you were glad she would always have the memories of her perfect life in the suburbs, even if it was all for show.

Yelena doesn’t respond, pulling into a driveway on the street and cutting the engine of the truck. She sits there for a moment, hands resting on the wheel as she gazes at the house before her. You catch the shimmer of her eyes and you know that the house represents more than you could ever imagine for her.

“C’mon,” she begins after a moment, reaching for the door handle. “Better not keep them waiting.”

She doesn’t wait for you, opening the door and exiting the vehicle. You watch her walk up the driveway, her plaid, yellow coat swaying as she moved. You take a deep breath, steeling your nerves as you follow suit.

Yelena is already waiting at the door by the time you catch up to her, the sound of the doorbell echoing from within the house. You hear footsteps moving closer and before you have time to worry about what awaits you on the other side, the door swings open and you’re face to face with a tall, middle-aged man whose wide smile you can only just make out through his thick beard.

“Lena,” he exclaims, wrapping the blonde in a tight hug. “Your mother said you were coming but I didn’t believe her. You haven’t been to see the house since we moved in.”

Yelena pushes herself from his grasp trying to act annoyed by his attention but you catch the smile tugging at her lips. You realise this must be Alexi, the pseudo father that Natasha had told you about. She had always said he had a way of putting his foot in it despite his good intentions and you could see what she meant.

But still, the way he looked at Yelena, you could have sworn he was her biological father.

“And you’ve brought a friend?” His attention was now turned to you and you fight the urge to shrink under his gaze, despite the friendly look on his face.

“No, she’s not a friend,” Yelena answers him, her tone leaving no room for argument. “She’s family.”

You turn to look at her but she’s already pushing past Alexi to walk inside the house, leaving the man standing there looking at you dumbfounded.

“Well,” you say after a few moments of awkward silence, “this wasn’t how I expected to meet my in-laws.”

//

After the initial shock had worn off, Alexi had ushered you inside. You had followed him through the house to a small kitchen at the back where you saw Yelena being embraced by an older woman with dark hair. As they parted, the woman cupped Yelena's face in her hands while smiling down at her and you knew that it had to be Melina, no one else would look at her with such motherly affection.

Alexi cleared his throat and Melina’s attention fell to you, her smile faltering for only a second before she took a step toward you.

“And this must be Natasha’s wife, I’m so glad to finally meet you.” Her hand was stretched out toward you and you took it in yours, trying not to react to the grip so similar to your wife's’.

“Wait, you knew?” Alexi cut in, the outrage clear on his face.

“Of course I knew,” Melina rolled her eyes as she guided you to the table nearby, her hand gently gripping your elbow. “I knew our Natasha was in love the second I saw her again at the Petersburg house. Plus, she’s still wearing her ring”

You sit at the table, Yelena taking the spot across from you and looking at you with an unreadable expression. Melina moved back to the kitchen, busying herself with arranging food onto dishes and bringing them to the table. Alexi sat down at the head of the table, eyeing you warily as he methodically buttered a roll that Melina had placed in front of him.

“She never really talked about you,” Melina continued as she worked, her eyes flitting to you, “but I wouldn’t take that personally, dear. She was still so guarded around me, even after we took down the Red Room. I don’t blame her, we lost so many years together and I betrayed her trust.”

“She talked about you,” you say after a beat, Melina's eyes flicking to you hopefully. “She had a lot of things she kept secret, it was hard for her to open up, even with me. But sometimes she’d mention something from her time in Ohio and she always seemed happy when she was remembering her time here.”

You feel a warm weight on your hand and your gaze travels from Alexis hand resting over yours to see his eyes shining with emotion. You offer him a smile in return, realising how loved Natasha truly was.

You just hoped that she realised it too.

Melina placed the last dish on the table and the tension is broken as Alexi clears his throat and begins to pile food onto his plate. The rest of you follow suit and soon the room is filled with cutlery clinking against plates and the satisfied sounds of people eating.

“So,” Melina turns to you after a few minutes, “tell us about your Natasha.”

You pause, finishing the food in your mouth before you begin. Once you start, it's hard to stop. You share stories about your time with Natasha, talking about how you first met all those years ago. You share details of missions with her, how proud she always made you, how she always made sure to keep you safe.

It wasn’t all one-sided though. In between your stories, the others would share their own anecdotes about your wife. It was nice to see her through their eyes and to know that the strength she radiated around you was noticed by others.

As emotional as it was, it was nice to be able to talk about her with people who really knew her. They were her family and talking to them made you feel connected to her, something you hadn’t felt for many months. They were all you had left of her and you were glad they had welcomed you so openly.

The food was long gone, the remnants of lunch littering the plates as you all continued to talk. You laughed as Melina told the story of Natasha dying her hair blue when she was younger, an act of rebellion on her part. You even caught Yelena smiling a few times, something you were sure she was incapable of from the solemn attitude she had presented up till now.

“You should go visit her,” Melina says and you catch Yelena stiffen beside you.

You’re confused, unsure exactly what Melina’s words meant, your gut telling you that Yelena’s reaction wasn’t a good sign.

“Visit who?” you question quietly, the light atmosphere that had settled around the table now thick with tension once more.

“Natasha,” she answers you and your breath catches, hope filling you for the briefest of moments. “There was no body to bury but we had a gravestone made and placed nearby. Yelena can take you to see it if you want.”

You try not to let the disappointment show on your face, of course Natasha wasn’t still alive. If she had been, she would have found you before now, she wouldn’t have let you suffer in your grief all those long months.

You can sense from Yelena’s posture that she isn’t thrilled with the idea and to be honest neither are you. You don’t want to be faced with yet another reminder of your loss, of the fact that you were all alone in this world. But Melina’s offer didn’t really leave much room to decline the invitation and you had just found this piece of your wife to cling onto, you didn’t want to ruin your relationship with them before it had really begun.

“Okay,” you agree, trying to return Melina’s smile.

//

The blue pickup rumbled down the road, the crisp November air swirling through the open windows of the cabin and filling your lungs.

Yelena doesn’t talk and neither do you, the two of you sitting in silence once more as she drives to your destination, every second that passes filling you with dread. The truck turns off the main road, following a dirt track carved out between the trees.

Suddenly, Yelena stops the pickup, the engine idling for a moment before she turns the key and the air is silent around you aside from the sound of birds nearby. You take a deep breath, eyes darting around trying to find what you had come here for.

Your heart clenches as you spot it, a small collection of stones at the end of the path. You don’t have to ask which one is Natasha's, even from where you sat you could make out the Black Widow symbol, her gravestone littered with flowers and other small tokens. You weren’t sure who had put them there but you knew that even though they didn’t know what had happened exactly, the world was thankful for all that she had done for them.

If only they knew what her sacrifice meant, how responsible she was in bringing everyone back.

“Are you ready?” Yelena’s voice catches you off guard, tears springing to your eyes at the thought of leaving the car.

“I can’t do it,” you reply, your voice trembling as you shake you head. “Even though she’s not really there, I just- I can’t.”

Yelena just nods in response, her hands tightening on the wheel for a moment before she reaches over to open the door.

“Come on, Fanny,” she grunts as she steps down from the pickup, the tan dog that Yelena had retrieved from the house following her out.

You smile as a memory of Natasha flashes to your mind, her complaining about one of the aliases she had been given and how ridiculous the name was. You were once again reminded how much Natasha’s legacy was interwoven in other people’s lives, not just your own.

You were glad that you weren’t the only person who was fighting so hard to keep her memory alive.

You watch Yelena as she walks up the path towards the headstone, sitting solitary under a tree. She crouches down for a few minutes, tidying up around the stone. You see her fingers tugging at the weeds that were growing there, adjusting the items that had been placed in Natasha’s memory.

She moves to the side of the headstone then, pressing her head against it and you have to look away, not wanting to intrude on such a private moment of grief. You had lost your wife but Yelena had lost her sister. You were lucky that you had the last five years with Natasha, time was something that Yelena never got.

She rises after a moment, walking to stand in front of the gravestone. You watch as the bottom of her yellow coat sways with the breeze, the cool air whipping through the still open window and making you shiver. You reach over to wind the glass up and by the time you look back to Yelena, she’s no longer alone.

A lady in a black coat is now standing beside her, the two of them seeming to be engaged in a conversation. You wonder if Yelena knows this person, the stiff set of her shoulders radiating annoyance.

The mystery woman reaches into her bag, handing something to Yelena. They talk for a few more minutes and then Yelena is walking back toward you, leaving the woman standing over Natasha’s grave.

Yelena opens the door, ushering the dog inside before climbing in herself. You want to ask about what you just saw but you don’t know if you should, or if she would answer your question anyway.

“I need to go back to New York,” Yelena tells you. “I have something to take care of there.”

It’s the only explanation you get.

//

It had been a few weeks since your trip to Ohio. November had ended and the days were getting colder. You found yourself dreading the upcoming Christmas, not wanting to spend yet another holiday without your wife.

You hadn’t seen Yelena since she dropped you back home but you had heard from her a few times. You didn’t want to ask how she had acquired your number but every few days she would send you a message checking in, or a random memory of Natasha to share.

The two of you had started to form a tentative friendship but you still had no idea what it was that she had to take care of in the city. Anytime you brought it up she would just brush it off, saying she was getting ready for a job.

You had no idea what she even did for work and to be honest, you were too scared to ask.

//

Things had been strange in the city the past few days.

Some strange creatures had been spotted around, destroying buildings and terrorising the people of New York.

You had thought about helping whatever team was left but Strange had been in contact with you, telling you he had it all under control for now and that he’d let you know if he needed help. You were fine with that, not really wanting to get caught up in all that craziness again.

Last night had been the worst of it, the sky had lit up across the city, looking like it was about to crack open. You had no idea what it all meant, but by the time you had woken up this morning, things had looked like they had settled down.

There were no more sightings of giant lizard men or people dressed in green suits flying around and dropping explosives. You hoped that Strange had fixed everything, you knew that he had the potential to do some wild things with his magic and you wondered what exactly he had gotten himself into.

You spent the day wandering the city, the biting cold distracting you from your thoughts as you walked. The closer it got to Christmas, the more you were thinking about Natasha and all the traditions you usually shared with her.

You thought about reaching out to Wanda, but you hadn’t heard back from her in months and you figured that she didn’t want to be contacted. So instead you let your feet carry you through the city, the snow falling around you as you shoved your hands deeper into your pocket to try and fight off the cold.

The sky was beginning to darken, so you decided to return home, not wanting to get caught outside at night in the snow. You trekked the familiar path to your apartment, admiring the lights of the city along the way.

You had to hand it to New York, they certainly knew how to celebrate Christmas.

You step off the elevator, walking towards your apartment door. You’re almost there before you notice it, the flicker of a shadow underneath your closed door. Your breath stops short, someone was in your apartment.

You figure it must be Yelena again and you vow to have a talk to her about breaking into people’s houses instead of knocking but just in case, you retrieve the gun hidden in the vent across from your door.

You unlock the front door, opening it slowly and stepping into the dark entryway. You flick the light on, gun raised as you move inside. The door clicks behind you and you strain to hear any kind of movement but all you’re met with is silence.

You decide to do a sweep of the apartment, maybe you had imagined the shadow but your years of training wouldn’t let you rest until you had checked every room.

Taking a deep breath, you turn the corner with your gun still raised and you’re met with another gun pointing back at you.

Your instinct tells you to pull the trigger but you hesitate, the flash of red hair behind the gun stopping you in your tracks.

You take in the intruder. Her hair was shorter than you remembered, her green eyes looking more haunted than they had before the Time Heist but it was her. Or at least a version of her.

You see her falter as well, her gun lowering slightly as she looks at you in recognition and disbelief. She whispers your name, your chest constricting as you hear her voice. Something you never thought you would hear again.

Your voice sounds choked as you reply, your whole world shifting in one moment.

“Natasha?”

Onto part three, take it away @vancityfire13 ! I can’t wait to see where you go with it ❤️

[notnctu]

push & pull | PREVIEW

❀ slytherin!doyoung x hufflepuff!femreader ❀ genre - SLOW BURN, smut, fluff, a bit of humor ❀ details -  hogwarts!au, friends to lovers?, fwb to lovers?, y/n is a player lol, jealous doyoung, mutual pining, doyoung is a lil mean its honestly just about doyoung pining so hard for y/n but doesn’t want to admit it...... and y/n teases him a lot about it... ❀ teaser word count - 609 ❀ expected word count - 8k-10k?? ❀ warnings - explicit language, possessiveness, dom!doyoung, angry sex?, dirty talk, penetration, fingering, praise kink  ❀ synopsis - in which a prideful slytherin and an oblivious hufflepuff play a clueless emotion game of tug of war. 

❝I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?❞   

❝People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you pursue me?❞ ❀ a/n - i want to preface and say that the magic is not canon to harry potter, and that the only thing im using are the sectional houses. besides that, everything is mostly made up LMAO also pls b lenient with me, i read hogwarts!au but writing it is very out of my comfort zone and am very bad at creating anything magical taglist - @tytae-24​ , @soliverse​ , @infnteen​​ | lmk if you want to be on it by sending me an ask/reply :)  - this fic is dedicated to my love @slightlymore​​ ;; in celebration of green coming out and for converting me into the slytherin!doyoung supremacy ily!!

READ HERE

“If you two are nothing, then why are you acting like you two are something? Get a grip, it’s practically sickening watching you fume over a ditzy Hufflepuff.” As Yuta prepares to bite into his delicious soft bread roll, it flies out of his grip, down the long table and onto another person’s plate. 

Both boys are quick to stand to their feet and face each other chest to chest. Neither one of them is intimidated by the other, but their other friends around them are rather shocked by the sudden discrepancy. 

Doyoung forcibly brushes off an imaginary dust off his good friend’s shoulders and draws a perfectly strained fake smile, knowing that others may be watching and he is a Prefect after all. But most importantly, you could be watching. “Call her that again, and your dinner won’t be the only thing that’s thrown across the table.” His threat is loud enough solely for Yuta to hear. 

Yuta, with glaring eyes, picks up his dinner tray and walks off with his chin held high and a brisk in his stride. Doyoung clears his throat in the midst of the brief silence and out of habit, fixes his tie back in place.

He takes a seat back down and the chatter at the table resumes, but he’s beyond embarrassed and disappointed at his loss of temper that everything around him drowns out.

Almost everything. He feels a light tap on his shoulder and out of annoyance, he spins around hastily and sharply snarls, “what?” But his eyes land on your fearful wide eyes and the slight cower in your stance, knowing that you caught onto his bad mood. And he’s half in disbelief that you’re approaching him right in the center of the Great Hall, that you’re standing so beautiful a foot away from him.

Instant regret and guilt fills his chest, his sharp eyes soften at your pout and the concerned furrow in between your brows. Nonetheless, he doesn’t have any words to say… he can’t get himself to apologize for his behavior.

“Do you want to walk to Herbology with me?” The quiver in your voice made you seem so small, so desperate for him, that he can hear the reactions of his friends. They’re laughing, at him, at you, at the whole scene that’s unfolding. He feels mocked, being a laughing stock isn’t something he’s very fond of.

His lips form a tight line, and in a snarky tone, “you don’t know your own way, Puff? Mind you ask your own Prefect to guide you.” Fuck. He tried to find the nicest way possible to brush you off, but his friends laugh a bit louder and intensely. And you didn’t like that one bit.

Your lips part slightly in a frown, an eyebrow raised and a hand on your hip. You look as if you’re ready to attack him, to jinx him, to probably pinch at his skin. But he knows you, and you’d do none of the above.

Instead, you say the one threat that causes his heart to sink into the pit of his stomach, “don’t talk to me in class.” You’re slipping away from him as you pick up your pace, exiting all the commotion in the Great Hall. He stares blankly at your backside until you’re gone, complete shambles on the inside.

He tries to hide the disappointment that stems from his chest, and his heart beats with an inexplicable dull pain. All he can think about is the twist of your expression and he’s gathering his things rather quickly to follow after you, without even a bid goodbye to his clique.

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

13 Going on 30 pt.1

A Peter Maximoff x reader fanfiction based off the movie 13 going on 30.

Summary:  You are so excited when the most popular girl in your school agrees to come to your 13th birthday party. But after a cruel prank you find yourself wishing that you were popular and older. By some miracle your wish is granted but isn’t as wonderful as it seems. You turn out to be a major jerk and you don't even talk to your best friend Peter anymore. Can you fix everything and get back to normal or are you stuck living like this forever 

Warnings: Angst and some suggestive content. But it’s mostly pure fluff. (Also peter has no powers in this and some scenes will be changed to better fit Peter and so I can be creative with it!)

Word Count: 2759

I am so excited to share this fic with y’all! 13 going on 30 is one of my favorite comfort movies and I thought that adding Peter Maximoff to it would make it even better. 

It was 1987 and your birthday party was next week. You were so excited you could barely contain yourself. You were turning 13, you were finally becoming a teenager. It was time to abandon all childish things and live a life of adventure and romance. One that all the movies told you was guaranteed once you became a teenager. You were writing in your notebook during lunch checking off the things you had already gotten for your birthday party. “Balloons, check. Party favors, check. The cutest outfit, check!” 

“Your best friend in the whole world who is getting you the best present. Check!” Peter added as he sat down across from you, dropping his lunch tray down on the table. You just rolled our eyes at him.“So I was thinking for this year we should go to the arcade then get ice cream.” Peter muttered his mouth full of the school’s signature sloppy joe sandwich. “Cause if I eat too much ice cream before we play that dance game you love, I'm gonna get sick again.” Some of the sandwich meat dripped out of the corner of his mouth. You handed him a napkin to wipe it, not even disgusted at this point. 

You and Peter had been best friends since birth. You had lived right next to each other as kids and you had done everything together. Learning how to walk, the loss of your first tooth, the first day of school. Always together no matter what. That’s what made you so nervous to tell him what was on your mind. “Actually, I was thinking of having a party this year.” You gave him a nervous smile. 

“What?!” He choked out in the midst of a coughing fit having nearly choked on his milk. Kids turned around to look at him and you shushed him. ”Peter stop shouting.” You scolded through gritted teeth. 

 He spoke up again this time, his voice back to it’s normal level. “But it’s always just us.”

You winced, you had figured he was going to respond like this. “I know, I know. But hear me out.” Peter sat back in his chair, arms crossed. “Lucy said she’d come to the party this year, and she’d bring Dylan! You know how much I like him.” You gushed and Peter narrowed his eyes at you. 

“How did you convince the most popular girl in school to come to your party?”

“Way harsh peter.” You reached over to his tray attempting to steal one of his fries. His hand slapped yours away. “You make it sound like she doesn't even know I exist.”

“That’s exactly what I’m implying, you and I are at the bottom of the social food chain and you know it.” He pushed his chair back even further, now only balancing on two legs. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” You defended. 

He held your gaze with narrowed eyes as you tired your best to maintain eye contact. The minute you looked away he knew he had you. “I know you're lying (y/n). When you can’t look me in the eye you’re hiding something. Spill it.” 

You muttered really quickly. “Imayormaynothavedoneherhomeworkforthepastmonth.” 

He gave you an exasperated look. “What?”

“I said I may or may not have done her homework for the past month.”

He gave you a disapproving look. “Don’t look at me like that. “ You pouted. “It was the only way she was going to bring Dylan.” 

“I don't even know why you want that guy at your party. Or Lucy for that matter. They’re all a bunch of jerks.” Peter got up to put his tray away. You shoved your notebook back into your bag and got up to follow him. 

“You don’t even know them Peter.”

“Neither do you.” You frowned at him before turning on your heel and walking away from him. “(y/n) wait.” You sped up and he sped up with you. He caught up to you and grabbed your arm. You refused to look at him. 

Peter’s harsh look softened and his grip on your arm loosed. “Look.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “ I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

You gave him a soft smile. “I won’t especially not with my best friend around.” You bumped your shoulder into his. He returned your smile after a while and your face lit up. “It’s going to be fun!” 

“If you say so.”

On the day of your party you couldn't even sit still for a single second. Pacing by the front door waiting for Lucy and her friends to arrive. The doorbell rang and you threw open the door, but your smile dropped when you saw it was just Peter. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Geez, it's good to see you too.” He pushed his way into your house as you closed the door behind him. 

“Sorry I just thought it was Lucy.”

“And you were disappointed when it was me.” He joked making himself at home on your couch.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“No, I get it. Suddenly you get new friends and I’m old news. Hung out to dry. Dead and buried without a moment to grieve.” He milked his performance trying to make you feel guilty. You sat down next to him knocking his feet off your mother’s coffee table. 

“Shut up.” You laughed, he watched you and smiled. You noticed the keyboard strapped to his chest and groaned. “Did you have to bring your keyboard?”

“Duh. It’s part of your gift.” 

“I hope that’s not all you got me.”

“Hey!” He mocked being hurt by your words. “And it’s not by the way.” He sat up and made his way to your front door. “I gotta go get it, I left it on your doorstep.” He opened the door and was gone for a minute, making you anxious with anticipation. He poked his head through the doorway and a sweet smile plastered on his lips. “Close your eyes.”

You quickly covered your eyes with your hands. You heard Peter’s sneakers shuffling as he made his way closer to you. “No peeking.”

“I’m not!”

“Yes you are, I can see you looking through the slits of your fingers.” You giggled at the accusation and squeezed your eyes even tighter. You felt the couch dip from his weight as he sat back down next to you. You feel his hands close around yours, and the small action making you blush. He carefully removed your hands from your eyes. “Ta-da!” 

Sitting on the coffee table front of you was a huge handmade pink doll house. “I decided to make you your own (y/n) dream house.” Your eyes widened taking it all in. It was beautiful.

“Petey did you make all this?” You asked, heart swelling at the sweet action. 

“Yeah,” He admitted a little embarrassed. He scooted closer to the table. “See that’s you in your bubble bath. Reading your favorite magazine” It was a Barbie doll with a picture of your face tape on it. You giggled.” And there’s your room with the giant closet you’ve always wanted and a huge stereo collection. I know how much you love music. And there’s that bum Rick Springfield, sitting on the couch.” As you took in all the details you fell even more in love with the house. Peter had put so much time into this and you adored it.

 “And uh, there’s me.” He smiled sheepishly. A picture of him was glued to a piece of cardboard. His picture was making that ‘I’m watching you’ gesture at Rick Springfield. “I’m making sure that creep keeps his hands to himself. He’s only here for his musical talents, nothing else.” You smiled at him. He smiled back and for a second you could have sworn he glanced down at your lips. “Oh! I almost forgot.” He pulled out a red packet and shook it lightly. “Wishing dust.” 

You scooted closer to him so you guys could read the package together. “It says wishing dust knows what’s in your heart of hearts. They’ll make all your dreams come true.” He whispered the last part, his eyes cast downward as you watched him rip open the package. He stood up and sprinkled the dust down on the house. You watched in wonder as all the different colors rained down together and decorated the whole house in a pretty shimmer. Your eyes met his and you could feel yourself tearing up. He was so sweet and he didn't even know how much this meant to you. 

Just then the doorbell rang and you jumped to your feet. “They’re here!” You wiped away the tears that threatened to fall really quickly before dashing to the door.

“Yay.” Peter cheered sarcastically. You ignored him and sprinted to open the door. Lucy was there along with her friends and Dylan in the back. She was wearing a neon pink dress, the same one you had begged your mom to buy you last week. She had said no obviously. 

“Hi Lucy! Thanks for coming!” She just gave you a tight smile and let herself in. She looked around your living room and a sneer made its way to her face when she saw Peter on your couch fiddling with his keyboard. 

“Sup Freak.” Lucy shot Peter a sickly sweet smile.

“Sup slut.” Peter replied, mirroring her smile. You felt your mouth open in shock and shot him a deadly look. Lucy just pressed on trying to get a reaction out of Peter.

“I see your hair is still as gray and as ugly as ever.”

“At least my hair is naturally this color. From the look of your roots you should really look into getting a better stylist. You ain’t fooling anybody honey.” 

They continued to glare at each other until Lucy finally broke away from his gaze and turned to face you. “Where is this party happening anyway.” 

“It’s um downstairs, in the basement.” You motioned towards it, Lucy and her friends made their way down the steps. Peter followed them carrying your dollhouse, but you held your arm out to stop him. “What was that? Why were you being such a jerk?” 

“She started it!” 

You huffed. “I know, but it’s my party so please try to be nice to her.” He opened his mouth to say something but then decided against it. He pushed past your arm and went down the stairs to the basement. Taking two at a time. 

“So this is it.” Lucy picked at the neon colored table cloth. You didn't know what to say as she looked around. “What are we going to do anyway?”

“Well we could play twister, Peter is really good at it.” Peter gave a small salute in acknowledgement as they glanced towards him. “Or we could watch a movie.”’ You said excitedly, making your way over to the VHS rack.” I have a lot of good ones.``

“Lame.” Lucy announced and her friends echoed in agreement. 

You felt embarrassed of thinking that they would enjoy such childish things. “Why don't we play a new game?” Lucy suggested.

“What kind of game?” Peter asked, suspicion laced in his tone.

“A fun one.” She made her way towards you and placed her hand on your shoulder as she turned to address Peter. “Not that you would know anything about fun Maximoff.”

“Not that you would know anything about fun.” Peter mocked back in a high pitched tone.

  “Real mature.” Peter stuck his tongue out at her.

She turned back to you. “Let’s play seven minutes in heaven.” She leaned in even closer. “You can go first (y/n), and I think you’ll like who you get.” She glanced back and you followed her gaze towards Dylan. He shot you a smile and you felt yourself blush. 

All of a sudden you heard your mom. “(y/n)!” Your mother yelled down the stairs. “Your cake is here come and get it!”

“Peter go get it.” Lucy commanded.

“What? No.” He scoffed. You met his gaze and shot him a pleading look. “Fine.” He put the dollhouse away in your closet on the top shelf and made his way to the stairs. “Thanks Petey.”

“Yeah, yeah.” 

Lucy took off her scarf from around her neck and placed it over your eyes, knotting it tightly in the back. She led you towards the closet and you felt your heart rate pick up. You could hear the giggles of her friends as they closed the door. You stood there in the darkness waiting for Dylan to come in. It had been a while since Lucy had led you to the closet, you sat down putting your arms around your knees hugging them close. 

Peter came back down the stairs carrying your cake, as he was coming down Lucy was going up the stairs, her friends trailing behind her. “Hey where are you going?” 

She didn't answer, just smiled at him placing a hand on his shoulder. “(y/n) is waiting for you in the closet.” He gave her a confused look, he didn't know he was part of this game. Lucy and her friends continued up the steps, Dylan swiped your cake with his finger smearing the icing and eating it. Peter yanked it away and continued down into the basement. Madonna was playing softly in the background, he put the cake on the table and made his way to the closet, opening the door. He saw you sitting there  on the floor, you upon hearing the door squeak open were smiling up at him. “I didn't think you were going to come.”

He nervously smiled back at you and sat down on the floor across from you. You reached your hands out towards him. “Where are you?” He let his hands find yours, fingers intertwined in one another. He had held your hand before but this time it felt so different. He saw you lean in and he did the same. He was inches away from your lips when you whispered. “Oh Dylan.” He pulled back abruptly. 

“It’s not Dylan, It’s Peter.” You yanked your hands away from his and tore the scarf away from your eyes.

 “What are you doing here?” You felt panic take over you. “Where is Dylan?”

“He left. They all did, no one is here.” You stood up and saw that Peter was right. Your snack table stood untouched and Lucy, and Dylan were no where to be found. You immediately turned on Peter. “What did you do?” 

Peter looked at you in disbelief. “Nothing!”

“Yes you did!” You were screaming at him at this point.

“I just went to get your cake!” He screamed back. 

“Get out.” you whispered. Peter looked at you, clearly hurt that you were pushing him away. “GET OUT!” You screamed as you pushed him out of the closet. 

“(y/n) wait!” He tried holding the door open as you desperately tried shutting it. “(y/n) let me talk to you!” 

“Peter stop.” You cried. 

“(y/n)-”

“No!” You managed to shut the door and lock it. You sat back down on the floor and put the blindfold back over your eyes.

“(y/n) Please!” You could hear Peter on the other side of the door even with your hands covering your ears. “Please come out!”

“I hate you!” You screamed as his voice stopped. 

“You don’t mean that.” He muttered, tears of his own threatening to spill.

“Yes I do! I hate you! I hate me! I hate everything!” You were so angry and embarrassed and that you really thought Lucy was your friend. And that you were going to get to kiss Dylan.

“(y/n) what are you talking about?”

“I want to be thirty!” You wailed through your tears.

“Just let me play you this song.” Peter yelled back. He slung his keyboard over his head and started to mess with it trying to find the right key. “It’ll make you feel better!” 

You ignored him continuing to cry. “I wanna be thirty! I wanna be thirty and flirty and thriving.” You swing your head back shaking the shelf behind you. The wishing dust from the dollhouse fell down all around you but you didn't even notice. You could faintly hear Peter playing some tune on his keyboard but you ignored it. Just muttering through your tears over and over how you wanted to be thirty, flirty and thriving. At the moment you wanted to be anywhere but there.

[five-rivers]

What are your thoughts on Ghost Royalty AU??? (I.E. the au where along with Danny being the ghost prince, Sam is the adoptive daughter of Undergrowth and thus a member of ghost royalty -Since he's the ruler of his domain- and Tucker is still a Pharaoh)

Hmmm... I've always liked Ghost King Danny and Pharaoh Tucker, but I'm sort of lukewarm on Undergrowth adopting Sam.

I could see it happening- If Undergrowth was, hm, fifty-seventy percent less evil, and maybe Sam made a deal with him to stop Vlad's development and try to make Amity Park greener, fix ecosystems, etc, and they actually had a real relationship. Something where Sam kept her independence and Undergrowth wasn't using her as a doll. Maybe after things fell through they'd keep in touch.

It'd be an interesting series of events to explore.

A lot of my ideas about Ghost King Danny and Pharaoh Tucker are in my fics. Actually, I'm in the midst of writing a passage about Pharaoh Tucker for Mortified right now! One that will probably make any Egyptologist that sees it cry in pain, because I am using wikipedia as a source and most likely mixing stuff from several different dynasties! Anyway, I'm not going to go into depth about that here.

All of them together is another thing. They'd have so much power in the Ghost Zone, both in their persons and because of who they're related to. They'd use this power to get in trouble, but also to help and support one another. I can also see them turning just a little bit towards the dark side- power corrupts, after all. Maybe becoming a little more ghostly, a little more controlling with fewer human limits.

It's a fun idea!